Stubborn

One more hour wrapped up in my bed covers (which I had strategically turned into a cocoon) and I knew I would slip into a comma. Hmm…that didn’t sound like such a bad idea. I couldn’t leave my dorm anymore, not without running into Jordan, who seemed to suddenly be everywhere I turned. All I could do was let myself wither away in my bed or, at least, hope for the Penguins to have an early season trade.

It was bright. Unnaturally bright. And made worse once Emma entered and let the everyday noises of college life follow her in. I listened as her keys jingled in her hands then fell on the table. After that, it was silent. She was watching me. Judging me on how I had given up. That, or she was trying to figure out if I was dead.

“Turn off the lights,” I moaned, only then realizing how hoarse my voice was after what felt like 72 hours of continuous sleep.

“It’s called the sun,” she snapped back. So she was judging me. She heaved a long sigh. “Are you going to get up or should I call an embalmer and get it over with?”

I breathed in deeply through my nose, my eyes still closed; shutting out the world and everything that came along with it, including friends. “The second one, if it means not having to move.”

Emma let out a groan, obviously upset at my quips even from an unmoving fetal position. “This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous!”

“You’re ridiculous,” I mumbled. One witty remark was all I had in me these days. How embarrassing.

I heard the padding of footsteps drawing closer and closer to my ears until I was stripped of my recent home and brought back out into the mild temperature of the world as an underdeveloped, fetal butterfly. I had never felt so naked under scrutinizing eyes. Well, that wasn’t exactly true…

“This is so sad,” Emma said flatly.

“I’m happy.” And I was. So what if my muscles had lost all their strength and my limps felt like spaghetti? Wasn’t that how evolution happened: the body forming to fit its new surroundings? Or maybe that’s what you felt like during a stroke. I wasn’t really in the right state of mind to think about it so I let a long silence spread between us. I opened one eye to see Emma looming over me, the covers that had adjusted to my body temperature scrunched up in her arms.

“Get up.”

“No.” My voice became muffled as I buried my face in the pillow, hoping to dim some of the sunlight. I felt two hands, cold and unforgiving, clamp around my ankles and before I could regain motion in my arms (something that could only be done with rehabilitation at this point) my body was pulled from the warm, enticing comfort of my bed and splattered on the rough, carpeted floor like a bug on a windshield. I was glad Aaron wasn’t around to see this.

“Get dressed.”

Gradually, I slid my arms underneath me and propped myself up. I wondered how often they cleaned the carpets in dorm rooms…and if ever. “Why?” I coughed lightly to get rid of the rasping in my voice. Forcing myself into a sitting position, I stared up at Emma who was fixing her make-up in the full-length mirror. I glanced down at my torn pajama pants and baggy t-shirt that I was 80 percent sure belonged to Aaron. Ignoring the obvious weirdness of that, I looked back up at Emma who had her hair done in a half-up hairstyle. She was dressed up.

She spun around and looked down at me then scrunched her face; an expression she usually gave to those animals that had lost a leg and hopped around everywhere. I was a legless animal in her eyes. Going against every instinct in my body, I hauled myself up on to the edge of the bed, allowing my socked legs to stretch out in front of me. On my head was, what felt like, a lopsided ponytail. I couldn’t be sure unless I looked in a mirror and I wasn’t willing to do that.

“We’ve gotta be somewhere tonight,” she said, adjusting the shirt under her leather jacket.

I attempted to cock an eyebrow, but I was pretty sure my eyebrows had fallen off from malnutrition. “Where?”

Emma groaned again and rolled her head to the side, annoyed. “What is it with you and your one word questions? Just get your smelly ass up and get dressed.”

“I don’t smell,” I replied indignantly. “And I don’t feel like going anywhere.”

“Not even to a concert?”

My eyes opened wide. Wider than I had been able to open them in the last few days. “A concert?”

Emma smirked at my aroused interest and positioned her hands on her hips, triumphantly. “No body famous, just a local band. But I’ve heard they’re pretty good. Thought we could check them out.” I hadn’t been to a concert in forever. Emma knew me too well.

“It’s tonight, right?” I asked slowly, still unsure if I wanted to leave the room and deal with– you know – people. She nodded. “Good. I don’t think my eyes are ready for direct sunlight.” She snorted with laughter then took hold of my hand, pulled me up off the bed, and shoved me into the washroom.

~

Aaron drove us, which surprised me because he wasn’t much for the indie band scene. I looked at the thick frost on the backseat window, realizing that winter was coming soon. We were still able to get away with jeans and a light jacket, but the weather had shifted to that strange stillness that preceded winter. I leaned back in the seat and allowed myself to enjoy the ride. I felt good. My hair was no longer in a greasy mess, my eyes weren’t stuck in limbo between wakefulness and sleep, and my clothes weren’t big enough to fit Emma inside them with me. I felt normal.

Aaron had his hand around Emma’s shoulder affectionately, blocking my view outside from the windshield. I rolled my eyes at their never ceasing, vomit-inducing, lovey-dovey romance. Valentines’ day was a fair amount of months away and they were oozing heart-shaped chocolates and rose pedals from their pores. The car came to an abrupt stop and I was glad I could step out into the chilly night and take in a deep, calming breath.

“So…” Aaron turned around to look at me. “We’re here.” Emma cocked her head over her shoulder with a meek smile.

I furrowed my brow and nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“We should probably get out,” Aaron said as he turned off the engine and pulled the key out of the ignition.

“Oh, you’re coming?” I asked, unbuckling my seatbelt and reaching for the door handle. “I thought you weren’t into underground bands.”

“Well…” he let his sentence trail off. Emma was being fairly quiet.

I opened the door hoping for an explanation once we got inside the venue. The only problem was that there wasn’t a venue. Nope. It was the Consol Energy Center. How could I have been so stupid as to think that my friends actually cared about what I wanted?

“It was Em’s idea,” Aaron sputtered before I could say anything. Emma nudged him in the stomach and got out of the car to stand next to me.

“Don’t be mad,” she said.

“Well, I’m not happy,” I replied, folding my arms over my chest. “How could you just lie to me like that, Em? And then practically kidnap me and bring to the last place on earth I want to be? You know what this has done to me. I thought you were my friend.”

“I am.” Her voice was sterner now; something my mom would use when trying to teach me a valuable lesson. “And bringing you here to deal with this is exactly what a friend would do. Do you know how pathetic it is to just sit around the dorm all day? What happened to the Alex that didn’t give a shit about any guy? I’m sick of watching you pining away for Jordan!”

I slammed the door shut, gave a quick betrayed look at Aaron, and then turned back to Emma. “I’m not pining away for him. I’m doing this to avoid him.”

“It’s the same thing! Either way, he’s affecting your life.”

I licked my lips and kept quiet.

“You like hockey.” She said it in more of a statement, but I felt obligated to nod. “So don’t let this get in the way of a great opportunity. We have free tickets from Max and Tyler and all the other great friends we’ve made.”

I rolled my jaw and tapped my shoe, aggravated. “You’re right,” I finally said and Emma smiled. I let out a breath and shoved my hands in the pockets of my jacket. “Okay, let’s go watch the Penguins kick Bruin ass.”

“Atta girl.” Aaron smiled as he walked around the car and put his arm around me playfully.

~

“Are you ready to see your Pittsbuuuuurgh Penguiiiiiiiiiinnnnssss?!” The stadium immediately filled with roars from the crowed. Everyone was anxious, including me, though I had a different reason. We were closer this time. Our seats were right next to where the Penguins walked before getting on the ice and directly behind their bench. I shifted nervously in my seat. I desperately wanted to not care, but I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t just let it go after everything that had happened, after all the effort I had put into avoiding Jordan.

I knew that at any moment the team would be filing out and Jordan would inevitably walk past me. Would he notice and just ignore me? Would he give me a dirty look? I was on his turf now. There was no way to make it seem like I was in the right, not when I had (somewhat) willingly walked into his arena. My hands fiddled with each other as Godard, then Cooke, then Max walked out – all looking like soldiers ready for battle. Finally, Jordan came out. I tried to stand still and draw as little attention as possible, but somehow his eyes darted my way before he reached the doors leading to the ice. Even under the bleak lights of the arena, dimmed to add dramatic effect, I could see his blue orbs staring through me, past my skin and organs, and into something deeper.

I didn’t know what to do so I just flashed a meek smile, not wanting to ruin his mood before the game. Once I did this, his face seemed to soften. Even as he continued his wobbled steps towards the doors, his gaze was focused on me. His eyebrows rose somewhat surprised, the wrinkles around his mouth (usually present when he had his game-face on) seemed to smooth out, and even under his shoulder pads I could see his tense shoulders fall. All of this was seen for only a minute, though, because before he could reach the slick, welcoming ice, his 6 foot 4 body collided with the tough Plexiglas. He rebounded backwards a few steps, shook his head, and rolled his shoulders. A loud ‘Ooohh’ came from everyone who had seen this, including Emma, Aaron, and I. My hands flew to my mouth reflexively as I gritted my teeth, imagining what it must have felt like.

“Whoa!” the announcer cooed with a chuckle that reverberated throughout the stadium. “Looks like Staal’s managed to hit the boards before even stepping foot on the ice.” Others in the arena laughed. I didn’t. I was in no position to judge after having been holed up in my room like a hibernating bear. Jordan just hitched his stick up higher in his gloved hand and hopped over the barrier separating the bench from the ice. I watched the number 11 swerve back and forth artfully, his head kept down and his stick bouncing off the ice.

The game ended with the Penguin’s victory of 3-1. As soon as the final horn sounded, we all practically jumped from our seats with the excitement of the game still pumping through us. Even though I hated to admit this, Emma was right a lot of the time. Seeing Jordan hadn’t been the death of me and the Penguin’s win had put me in the euphoric mood most fans experienced for their home team. We sat in our seats for a while, waiting for everyone else to exit the arena before grabbing our stuff and heading down the steep steps. Each of us exchanged our favourite moments of the game in ecstatic chatter, the topic of Jordan coming up casually as we discussed his goal in the second period.

Reaching the main hall of the Consol Energy center, we realized that we had waited for a little longer than hoped. Most of the people had left, leaving the parking lot almost empty as we walked to Aaron’s car. Before we were able to hop inside without breaking our conversation, a black car pulled up next to us. The windows rolled down to reveal Max; a giant grin on his face.

“Hey!” he jeered, “I didn’t think you guys would come.” His eyes fixed on mine for a moment before looking back at Aaron and Emma. “Pretty good game, eh?”

“Amazing!” Aaron replied.

Max laughed. “You guys up for a party tonight at my house to celebrate the win?”

“Definitely!” Emma answered for all of us.

“Umm, I don’t know,” I began. “I’m kind of tired.” Emma gave me a look as though saying ‘you’ve been sleeping for the past week’.

“Come on,” Max coerced with his accent. “On the night I get my 20th goal you’re not gonna celebrate with me?” Damn him and his strange French powers! The fact that he knew my situation and still felt it was okay to invite me made me even more hesitant in saying ‘no’. Max was a good guy; I knew he wouldn’t force me into something completely horrible.

“Okay,” I said with a defeated sigh. He let out a cheer and I shook my head, laughing. Hopefully this encounter with Jordan wouldn’t lead to any more injuries.