Remember Me

"Bon matin, ma petite fleur." A deep, raspy voice woke Alyssa's slumber just in time for her to feel the rough scratch of Marc-Andre's facial hair against her cheek. Scrunching her nose up, she giggled as he rubbed his own cheek against hers once more, just to annoy her.

Monsieur," she whispered, turning over to face him completely. "You need a shave." He was so close that when he laughed, Alyssa could feel the rumble of his chest against her body.

"You don't like? I've been told it suits me," he replied. Aly shook her head incessantly, forcing a frown upon her lips. Marc attacked her seconds later, smashing his lips against hers and making sure she got the full sense of his unshaven beard.

"Stop!" the blonde protested amidst the beginning of his tickling tactics. "I give up! White flag!" She screamed through her laughter, trying to move her way out of his grasp but it was no use.

"Say the magic words!"

Alyssa took in a deep breath and stopped wiggling around beneath him, "You win! You win!" Marc laughed, pulling away from the petite girl he had locked between his legs and rolled back onto his side on the bed. He laid there and watched her.

"I'm gonna be in so much trouble," she groaned, throwing her hands up to cover her face.

"Your uncle won't—he won't—I mean—" Suddenly Aly burst into a fit of laughter, because of—what he could only guess—was how much he was freaking out about the idea of Pascal finding out.

"Oh God, no," she laughed. "I'm pretty sure he just thinks I'm out making 'friends' with kids in my class."

"How's that possible? He knows you." His words caused him to get smacked in his chest.

"I'll have you know back in New York, I was one of the most popular girls in school."

"What'd you do, bribe them?" Marc laughed, flinching even before her fist came into contact with his shoulder. "So, care for some breakfast?"

"Nah, I should get home before a search party gets sent out for me." Alyssa slithered around on the bed, trying to keep herself covered before she found her clothing strewn about the floor in Marc's bedroom. He watched as she slipped on the final article of clothing and paused with her back to him.

"So, uh, I'll see you later." There was something in her voice that made him think that was a lie, but he brushed it to the side and nodded his head when she finally turned around to look at him again. And just like that, the girl was gone.



"She's like the perfect girl. How did you land her, Flower?" Jordan questioned his teammate with a chuckle, and that smart ass smirk playing on his face. "Basically you get all the benefits of having a girlfriend, without actually... having the side effects of it."

"Are you sure you want to be saying that, Staalsy?" he countered, popping up an eyebrow and bringing his gaze over towards where his own girlfriend was standing, just inches away. "Your own girlfriend's right there."

He shrugged, chuckling as though it was no big deal. He had probably told her what a pain in the ass she was anyway. Their relationship was far from perfect, or healthy for them. It just seemed like they stayed together because of the comfort of it—kind of like Marc and Vero had. "I'm just saying, why are you complaining? You could probably call her up right now, and get laid without putting any effort into it."

Marc groaned, rolling his eyes. His teammate clearly didn't share the same views, or values, that he did. "Never mind, Staal. I don't even know why I told you, anyway." Moving away from Jordan, he made his way into the bowling alley where the Pens and Pins bowling charity event would be taking place. He and Jordan had arrived at the same time, but Heather seemed to be taking a little longer to get everything out of their car, so Jordan had to wait behind.



Her hair was straightened, and she had on a great pair of skinny jeans that complimented her curves very well. She was chatting with Carol-Lyne and Tanger's girlfriend, Katie, and every time she laughed he couldn't help but smile along with her. Although it wasn't always easy to get, her smile was contagious. Much like many said about his, it always seemed to light up the room. As the blonde turned her head, it was as though everything was in sudden motion and he was suddenly in an old '80s movie. Her perfectly done hair flew back and his eyes met her own; she smiled a small smile, sending him a short wave before getting—obviously—teased by Carol-Lyne when she noticed who she was greeting.

But why would she wave at him, and not return his phone calls?

Marc grinned widely, almost about to decide to walk up to the women before someone stopped him. "Enjoying yourself, Flower?" Pascal asked, causing him to fix the widely embarrassing grin at the sight of his teammate. His teammate who obviously knew exactly who that smile was shot toward.

"Glad to hear it," Duper spoke without waiting any longer for an answer, patting Marc-Andre on the shoulder before proceeding to walk over to the group of women in front of them.



"I didn't know you were gonna be here."

"I had a free night," she shrugged, offering her plate filled with meat lover's pieces of pizza. "Care for some pizza?"

Marc shook his head, for once opting out of eating something completely covered in grease, as he slinked into the chair next to Aly. "So, did you break your phone or..." Alyssa stared at him, trying to figure out just exactly he was trying to get at. Her phone was working fine. She had received his calls, but she figured he'd get the picture when she didn't answer after the third time. It wasn't that she wasn't interested, she was—very much. But everything she ever touched seemed to mess up somehow, and the last thing she wanted to do was screw things up for one of the nicest guys she had ever met.

"Lost it." Judging by the slight smart-ass smirk playing on her lips, Marc knew she hadn't lost her phone.

"Couldn't find it in your pocket, or what?" he cocked an eyebrow, and heard the girl laugh quietly.

"What can I say? I've got some deep pockets." Alyssa meant it as a joke, but Marc didn't seem to take it that way as he just stared at her like she was crazy. Like she was meant to be taking this seriously.

"Right," he groaned, standing up and kicking the chair away from his body. "Well, I'll leave you to sort out your pockets then."

As much as he was intrigued by this girl, Marc-Andre was seriously starting to wonder if she was worth all the effort. He was trying so hard, and every time he thought he was getting somewhere with her, it was as though she slapped him across the face and they were back to square one. He could go and find a nice girl—one that didn't seem so weighed down by baggage, and that wasn't afraid to smile and laugh, and actually answer someone's phone calls.

Marc didn't even turn around as he overheard her calling after him: "What?! I was joking!"