A Life Time of Ice Time

“So then what did you say?”Andrew Ladd asked me as he wiped the sweat from his forehead with a towel.

“I told him I'd think about it.” I shrugged as I leaned back into Patrick's stall. “I mean, I wasn't about to forgive him that easily.”

I turned my attention toward Patrick as he sucked in a deep breath. He had a towel wrapped around his neck since he had just come from the shower. “Bad move. You should've apologized to him for freaking out. It's not even like he technically did anything wrong.”

I scoffed as I stood up so that he could grab a change of clothes from his stall. “What was I supposed to do?” I asked him skeptically. “Get down on my knees and say 'Forgive me your highness. I'm terribly sorry for having feelings'?”

“See?” Patrick snapped and pointed a finger in my direction. “Why can't all girls think like you?” He laughed when I pushed him before turning away so he could change. “All I'm trying to say, is that you guys should just make up already. Are you in third grade?”

“Plus there will be no chance that he'll ask you to go to California if-,” I snapped my head back at Patrick who was frantically waving his hand in front of his neck to signal for Antti Niemi to shut up.

“He was going to take me with you guys to California?” I asked Patrick as I examined him accusingly from Duncan Keith's stall. “Why wouldn't you tell me that?”

“Well it was supposed to be a surprise.” He shot Niemi a look who looked away guiltily in response. “But now that you know, it gives you all the more motivation to make up with him.” He leaned sideways so that he could be closer to me. “And you do want to go to California, don't you?”

“Of course.” I quickly ran my fingers through my hair and sighed as I leaned back in the stall. “But I don't see what I could do-.”

“Taylor?” Everyone's eyes turned on Jonathan as he walked in the room. “Would you mind doing me a favor?”

“Here's your chance,” Ladd attempted to whisper to me but I'm sure that everyone in the entire locker room could hear him.

“Sure,” I said, my voice cracking slightly as I nodded. “What is it?”

“Well I sorta have a date tonight.” I nodded for him to continue when he looked around uneasily at all of the guys staring at him. “And if you can't tell, I'm not so good at that type of thing.” He laughed at himself under his breath. I opened my mouth to say something but he held up his hand to stop me. “Don't worry, it's not with Amanda.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a habit I noticed that he did when he was nervous. “It's with some girl I met at a bar last night.” He looked around the room and sighed before grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the locker room. I waved to Patrick who shook his head and smirked at me before we disappeared from their view. “Sorry, it's just that I'm already embarrassed enough and I don't need all the guys hearing about this.”

“That's okay.” I waved my hand in his direction to dismiss what he said. The words “Don't worry, it's not with Amanda” still rang in my head. “So what do you need me to do?”

“Well I was thinking that I could make her something to for dinner.” He quickly ran his fingers through his wet hair. “But the only problem is I don't know how to cook.” He smiled sheepishly down at me. “So would you mind helping me out?” I followed him as he started to walk back to his car. He smiled when I nodded. “Cool. Well we can go to the store now since she'll be over in a little while.” I opened the passenger seat to his car and rolled down the window as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“So what's this girl like?” I asked as I dangled my hand out of the open window. I pulled it back in when a car passed by. When I was little, my father always told me not to stick my hand out the window or a car driving past would chop it off.

He shrugged quickly. Too quickly. “I don't know.” He shifted uncomfortably and readjusted his hands several times on the wheel.

“You don't know?” I asked him skeptically and shivered as the cold Chicago wind shot up the sleeve of my jacket. I pushed the hair out of my face as the wind blew it into my eyes. He nodded again and I rolled my eyes at him. “Will I like her?”

“Does it matter?” He asked, laughing slightly under his breath as we pulled into the grocery store parking lot. “I'm the one dating her, not you.”

“True.” I mused as I skipped to keep up with his brisk walk as he led me through the automatic doors into the store. “But I am helping you out, so the least you could do is make sure I approve.”

“Whatever you say Taylor.” He grabbed a squeaky cart and narrowed his eyes as he examined the tiny signs hanging down the aisles. “What should we make?”

I shrugged. “The only thing I can make decently is spaghetti.” He let out a deep breath. “What? Then cook something yourself!” I snapped when he seemed to be disappointed at my lack of culinary experience.

“Okay, okay calm down.” He bit his lip and followed me as I walked down the aisles, grabbing boxed noodles and tomato sauce.

“Can I at least guess what she's like?” I asked as I carefully placed the glass jar in the cart.

“No,” he said quickly as he continued to push the cart down the aisle.

“You're no fun,” I pouted as I crossed my arms over my chest.

“That's why they call me Captain Serious,” he mumbled, forcing me to crack a smile. “Do you think we need anything else?” He asked as he examined our mostly empty cart.

“Oh, can we get Oreos?” He laughed when I ran over to the shelf and waved my hand in front of them like a game show host. “They're on sale.”

He rolled his eyes but kept a smile plastered on his face. “Sure.” His eyes scanned quickly around us. “Girl like flowers, right?” I nodded and followed him into the walk in refrigerator. He pursed his lips and I thought it was cute how much thought he was putting into the type of flowers. “Which ones do you like?”

“These.” I smiled as I picked up soft orange roses. “Cool huh?” He smiled as he took them from me and placed them under his arm like a football. “Let me paint you a picture,” I said as I walked over to one of the glass walls in the cool room we were in to take advantage of the condensation filled windows. “Here's me.” I drew a quick stick figure with my finger. “And here's you.” I drew another identical one next to the one that was supposed to be me.

“How are people supposed to tell us apart?” He smirked as he mocked me. He laughed when I rolled my eyes and quickly added a hockey stick to his figure.

“You.” I drew a circle around his stick figure as I spoke. “Won't tell Taylor.” I drew a circle around mine too. “About your mystery girl.” He rolled his eyes as he realized where this was going. “And this makes Taylor very sad.” I pulled my lips into a frown as I drew a sad face on my stick figure. I put a smile on Jon's figure and pulled his eyebrows in to show that he was supposed to be smiling evilly. “But, this can be fixed.” I smeared out both of our faces with my thumb and waited for the condensation to build up again. “If you tell Taylor what she wants to know.” I redrew Jonathan's face with an open mouth, like it was talking. I turned to see the real Jonathan's amused expression. “Then we'll all live happily ever after.” I drew a giant smiley face around both of our figures.

He leaned his arm on the cart and pursed his lips as he examined me from across the refrigerator. “Cute. But I'm still not telling you.”

* * *

“She could still show,” I reassured Jon as he paced in front of his television. I only wished the girl would come so that I could rip her throat out for putting him through all this stress.

“Let's face it Taylor,” he sighed as he plopped down on the couch next to me. “It's been two hours. She's not coming.”

I chewed on my lip as I attempted to think of a response. “There's really bad traffic in Chicago. It's understandable that she could just be coming late.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head before I even finished. “She's not coming.” He sighed as he stood up. “Are you hungry?”

I nodded and followed him into his kitchen. “She's not even worth it.” He rotated his jaw as he scooped some pasta into a bowl and handed it to me. “There's millions of girls out there. One of them is waiting for you.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled and avoided my eyes as he ducked down into the refrigerator. He tossed me up a red Gatorade. “Gatorade and spaghetti.” He smiled as he opened it for me and led me into the living room. “The meal of champions.”

I laughed as I sat cross legged on the couch. We sat there in awkward silence for a minute as my eyes scanned his apartment. “You have a lot of trophies,” I commented.

“Yeah.” He shrugged indifferently as his eyes grazed the room. “But I don't have the trophy.”

“What's the trophy?” I laughed under my breath at how ridiculous it sounded even when I said it. I shoved a forkful of noodles in my mouth as I waited for a response.

“The Stanley Cup, duh.” I pushed him playfully, causing him to spill tomato sauce on his leather couch which probably cost more then my car. “Nice. Look what you did.” I rolled my eyes as he used his finger to wipe it up and then licked it off.

“Don't you only get like one day with that thing?” He nodded but his eyes widened slightly. “Don't look so surprised. I do know a few things about hockey.” He looked at me skeptically and went back to eating his dinner. “So what would you do with it?”

He sucked in a noodle before pursing his lips. “Um, I'm not sure.” He shrugged. “There's been a lot of things done with it.” He sat back with a determined look on his face. “I'd probably just walk around with it. Show it to the fans and stuff.”

“Why would you waste the only day with something that you have worked your entire life to get, showing it to other people?” An airy sound escaped my throat in disbelief.

“Well, what would you do with it?” He challenged me before taking a long sip from his Gatorade. I bit back my smile as a red ring formed around his upper lip where the top had rested.

I tapped my chin as I considered this. “I think I'd eat Frosted Flakes out of it.” A low grunt escaped from his lips.

“You only have one day with the greatest trophy in the world -,”

“In your opinion.” I interrupted him but he continued over me.

“And you would waste it by eating Frosted Flakes?” I shrugged at his astounded expression.

“You call it a waste, I call it a day in heaven.” He rolled his eyes as a light smirk played on his lips. He reached his hand behind the couch cushion he was sitting on and pulled out a remote. He flicked on the TV and started rapidly searching through the channels. I started to fall back into the couch as his weight pulled it down when he sat back satisfied when he had found the NHL network. “Change the channel.”

He crinkled his eyebrows at my sudden change in mood. “No. I want to see the highlights.”

“Weren't you playing?” I asked as I set my bowl down on his coffee table. “You know what the highlights are. Change the channel.”

“I wasn't playing at every single game on every single team.” I followed his gesture towards the TV where they were showing highlights from a Penguins game. I ran my tongue along my teeth and crossed my arms in front of my chest. “Do you really hate hockey that much?” He asked and his amused tone was now more annoying then cute.

“I don't hate hockey.” He looked at me skeptically and easily moved the remote out of my reach when I stretched for it. “I just want you to change the channel.”

“Not until you tell me why.” I shot him an annoyed look as I propped myself up on my knees to try and grab the remote again. “We're friends now, aren't we? You can tell me.”

I sat back in defeat and ran my fingers through my hair. “It's a long story,” I stammered quickly. “You don't want to hear it.”

“I've got time,” he said as he turned the TV on mute, but not off. “Taylor.” He lightly rested his hand on my arm. “You can tell me.”

I chewed on my lip.“But just warning you, it's a really long story.” I waited until he nodded to continue. “I have never told anyone the entire story. Not even Matt.” He seemed genuinely surprised by this piece of information. I took a deep breath before starting. “Okay, so I might as well start from the very beginning.” I paused to search my mind back to the place where I had stashed these terrible memories for so long. I realized that I could just make up a story to tell him. Something along the lines of, “Yeah, I used to play hockey but then I broke my arm so I never watched a game again,” but for some reason, I felt like I could trust him. If I was going to tell anyone about what happened, it would be him.

“My brother,” I started. “Was an all-star hockey player. I meanPatrick Kane all-star.” I paused to smirk at him before continuing. “He was seventeen and I was only five. I know, a big age difference. So anyways, my entire family came to every single one of his games. We were all hockey fanatics. I knew every single statistic for every player ever. I could'v'e been the coach probably if I had wanted to.”

He laughed slightly under his breath. “Don't take this the wrong way, but I find that really hard to believe.”

I slapped him gently in the stomach. “Do you want to hear the story or not?” He nodded and signaled for me to continue. “So where was I – oh right, I could've been coach.” He laughed slightly again but I just ignored him. “So my brother made it to the championship game and there were all these college scouts there. We all knew for sure that he would make it in the NHL. He had by far the best record on the team.” I smiled slightly at the memories. “My brother always said that his number one inspiration was my father. But he wasn't able to make it to the championship game, so naturally my brother was devastated.” I intertwined my fingers together, debating whether I should include the next part. “We later found out that he missed it because he was sleeping with his secretary.” I paused before adding, “who is now my step-mother.”

“Ouch.” Jonathan shifted slightly so that he was facing me more.

“I know.” I laughed coldly. “And I haven't even gotten to the worse part yet.” I could feel him studying my features, waiting for me to continue. “My brother couldn't focus the entire game. He just kept looking out at my father's empty seat.” I tightly closed my eyes as I forced myself to continue. “Since he wasn't paying attention, some jerk on the other team decided to go after him.” Tears started stinging in my eyes but I focused on the orange flowers that Jonathan had set out for his mystery girl to try and hold them back. “He gave him a hard illegal hit. The kid got sent to the penalty box, but my brother's knee was blown out. We went to the doctor and they said that he wouldn't be able to play hockey again.” I let the tears slowly roll down my cheeks. “He was so upset that, that night he decided that there was nothing worth living for anymore and he-,” my voice was caught in my throat and I knew I couldn't force myself to say the words.

“He killed himself.” Jonathan whispered quietly beside me. I nodded and let him pull me into his arms. “I'm so sorry.”

I started crying into his chest and his muscular arms almost stopped my shaking as sobs erupted from my body. “After that, my mother left me so now I have to live with my stupid cheating father and his stupid cheating wife and his stupid cheating daughter!” My voice rose with aggravation and I suddenly wondered if people in the nearby apartments could hear us. I took deep breaths to calm myself down and get my heart rate back to it's normal pace. “So now you know.” I sniffed as I pulled myself away from him. He reluctantly let me sit back up.

“I'm so sorry Taylor.” His deep brown eyes looked over at me in concern. “I would've never made you come to the game if I would've known that-.”

“Jonathan, it's fine.” I shook my head, contradicting my words. “You couldn't have known.”

He sat in silence, staring at me for a moment. “So Amanda is the daughter of the woman that your father cheated on your mother with?” He shook his head when I slowly nodded mine. “That's really messed up.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “You okay?” He asked, pulling my chin up so I had to look at him.

“Yeah.” I shrugged as I wiped a tear off of my cheek. He didn't look convinced but I continued on. “Can I ask you a question?” He nodded as he waited. “There was no girl that was supposed to come here, was there?”

“Yes there was.” He tucked my hair behind my ear when he gave me this surprising answer. “And she was here the whole time.”