Kiss and Tell

I sat in front of the TV with a bowl of orange sherbet, possibly the greatest edible invention ever. I had practically cleaned out the container, but I’d just buy more to replace it. I was cuddled up with a blanket and a movie. (Not Sweet Home Alabama, if that’s what you’re thinking). It was some cheesy flick on the satellite.

Jon was at practice and I would be lying if I said I didn’t care. I wanted him to myself, I wanted to hog him, I was sick of being lonely. I hadn’t seen any of the guys in a week, since my first night here, and he seen them more than he’s seen me. Selfish, yes, but I missed him.

Refusing to go to practice was digging my hole deeper. They boys wouldn’t respect me if I didn’t try. I wasn’t going to put in effort only to be ridiculed though. Coming back to Chicago was one thing, but squeezing my way into their inner circle once more, their rink, the Blackhawks territory was probably intruding far too much.

I heard the door open and I glanced around the wall and saw Jon walk in. He had his bag, which he dropped at the floor. I watched him grab a Gatorade from the fridge before walking towards me, a smile on his face.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” I said back, as he sat next to me, “Stop leaving so much, I’m lonely.”

He laughed and shoved me lightly, “It’s my job. Stop eating all my sherbet.”

I looked down at the bowl innocently, “It’s my job.”

He beamed, before looking at the TV. His smile instantly sagged downward, before looking at me again with a disgusted look on his face, “ what are you watching?”

I took a spoonful of sherbet and shrugged, “Iunno.”

He rolled his eyes and flipped the channel. I scooped up another orange spoonful and placed it in front of his face. He sighed, opening his mouth and eating it. He didn’t like eating junk for his ‘diet’, but sometimes, you need a little sugar to make everything right.

“How was practice?” I asked, like I always did.

He shrugged.

I frowned, he was usually so eager to tell me everything, “What happened?”

He glanced at me and once again, shrugged, “Nothing, you don’t want to hear about it.”

I placed my bowl on the table and leaned forward, forcing him to look at me, “Yea, I do.”

He sighed and looked at the TV, “Brent and Pat just got into a little argument, that’s all.”

I nearly fell off the couch; I thought that was over and done with. It had been two years and they’ve adjusted to no longer speaking, why the sudden change? I could tell you why, because I’m back and I have a tendency to fuck everything up without a second thought.

“Why?”

He turned to me and gave me a soft smile, “Don’t worry about it, they’re fine.”

I shook my head and leaned forward to give him a hug, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” He told me, hugging me back, “It’s not your fault, but you need to get out of this house, so after the game tonight, you’re coming out.”

I sighed; it was going to happen eventually. I would have to see them all again, as much as neither party wanted to. I glanced at the TV, thinking about how tiresome it was to watch them play through a screen. I looked at Jon, who was waiting for an answer.

“Would it be possible,” I started, nearly muttering, “To go to the game too?”

He burst into a huge smile and nodded, like a proud friend, “Yea, it would be possible. Do you want to go alone, or are would you want to go with Em?”

I nodded, “Emma.”

He laughed and reached for his phone, prepared to make the ticket call and the Emma call, “I’m on it, Lee.”

I smiled at him and nodded, “Thanks Jay.”

~

What do you wear to a Blackhawks game when the only jerseys you have are your ex boyfriends? I glared at my wardrobe, why hadn’t I invested in anything else Blackhawks. The only things staring back at me were Seabrook- and they just wouldn’t fly. I groaned, slamming the closet doors. I guess team spirit was not on the agenda for tonight.

Jeans and a simple top would have to suffice. The rink would be cold, so I could wear long sleeves, but I’d never really been to a game without proper Hawks attire. I frowned, dropping onto the bed. Maybe Tazer would lend me a jersey? I really didn’t want to ask. I was going to be the only girl there who wasn’t dating a player, or wearing a jersey. I was going to stick out like a sore thumb.

This was a stupid, stupid idea. I never should have suggested it. I couldn’t turn my back on the game now, Jon would kill me, and he was looking forward to it. Sitting with these girls, most of which, couldn’t stand me, and one who was dating Brent was a recipe for disaster. I hated myself for even mentioning it. How stupid could I be?

Sulking was getting me nowhere, so I stood up and threw on some clothes. A pair of tight fit jeans and a loose white top was the outfit of choice. I didn’t have anything else to wear, or anything that I would feel comfortable in. I would NOT be wearing green or blue to a came against the Nucks.

My phone started to ring and Emma’s name was clear on the screen. I answered.

“I’m outside!”

I nodded, “Ok.”

Hanging up, I took a breath; I was in for it now.