Status: One Shot and Done
You Want to Be Mine
You Want to Be Mine
“Are you sure about these?” I asked, pulling the stocking up my leg.
“Lucy! Just wear the damned things,” Rebecca shouted from the other room.
Okay. I smoothed the lacey band over the thigh, stepped into my shoes and looked into the mirror. Here goes nothing.
____
In early August, a new girl set up her workout step bench next to mine in the BodyStep classroom at Gold’s Gym in Market Square. Some of the choreography was a bit tough, but she smiled at me when she missed a step. At the end of class, she introduced herself as Vero. Before long we were taking the same 3 classes a week and becoming friends.
After about a month, we went for coffee after a CardioFusion class. She was funny and outgoing. The only thing she wasn’t forthcoming about was her life in Pittsburgh. I knew she was from Quebec, and she simply explained that she’d moved to PA with her boyfriend and she worked for a non-profit. We hung out a few times over the next weeks, and she never elaborated. I always thought that was the tiniest bit odd.
In October, I invited Vero to my birthday party. She RSVP’d with a +1. When Vero swept into the bar that night, all long hair and high heels, I suddenly understood. Her smile was hopeful and slightly apologetic at the same time. So here’s my big secret, it said. Her boyfriend was Marc-Andre Fleury, goalie for the Pittsburgh Penguins.
“I knew you were hiding something good!” I whispered to her as we hugged.
Marc shook my hand and passed me a small, wrapped parcel. “Vero talks about you all the time. Sorry we haven’t met before now.” I opened the gift – a super cute blue workout top from Lululemon and a pair of tickets to the next day’s Pens game.
Ten minutes later, Rebecca squished herself between me and the bar. “Is that Marc-Andre Fleury at your birthday party?”
“Hold it together, Becks!” I handed her a beer and the tickets. “We’re going to the game tomorrow.”
Vero sat with us at the game. She apologized ten times that we couldn’t go to the locker room that night – the guys were heading right out for a road trip. “Marc said they would win one for your birthday.” And they did. We had a great time.
Ten days later, Vero bounded into class on a Tuesday afternoon. “Lucy, we are throwing a Halloween party. Will you come? Please say you’ll come! It’s the first year that Marc and I are doing it – it’s going to be epic.” She was practically cackling with glee. And who doesn’t love an excuse to wear something slutty and call it a costume?
___
“I’m nervous!” Rebecca hollered. Her heels clicked around the hallway floor and I could hear hairspray in the air. I was a little nervous too. Meeting an entire team of hockey players was bad enough. Doing it at the legendary annual Halloween party wearing a dress that barely covered my ass was something else entirely. Vero promised us a night to remember – I had a hard time seeing how it could be anything but. With a flip and shake of my hair, I was ready.
“Shit Luce, you look hot.” Rebecca stood in the doorway, pinning up the apron on her shirt, low cut red and black striped costume. The little crown perched atop her head glittered with red jewels on every spire.
“The joker ain't the only fool, who'll do anything for you,” I sang from that old Juice Newton song ‘Queen of Hearts.’
___
We pulled into the driveway behind four other cars. It was barely 9 PM and I realized that Vero had probably asked us to come early. I hoped to make at least a few friends before her hostess duties pulled her away. I knocked on the door, next to a paper skeleton head, and let myself in.
“Hello?” I called.
“Lucy!” She yelled as she flew into the entryway. “Oh my God!” She stopped dead.
Her eyes were all over my Hermione Granger costume. I wore black high heels with a little buckle on the toe – very school girl – and white thigh-high stockings that Rebecca had battled me into. My little grey dress had maroon and gold trim and a very deep v-neck. Over my shoulders I had a black cape with a white collar. The short, attached necktie in Gryffindor colors ended suggestively at my cleavage. The outfit was really, really short, so I’d added little black shorts that only showed if I leaned over too far. My naturally curly brown hair was the piece de resistance - spiraled and fluffed into a mane spilling down my back.
Vero was dressed as a flight attendant – short, mod dress in bright sky blue, a little cap skewed over her forehead. High white boots and a scarf at her neck completed the sexy, almost 60’s retro look.
“I did not plan this, I swear!” she said, throwing a hug around me. Before she could explain, two heads popped around the corner.
“Shut up,” Jordan Staal called. His blond hair was slightly longer than usual, and had been carefully gelled into a messy, moody mop. He wore a gray button down shirt, open to the navel. Some kind of makeup made his skin two shades paler, and he’d been rubbed down with glitter. He smiled through a set of fangs.
“Edward Cullen,” I nearly died. “Best. Costume. Ever.”
He laughed. “You haven’t seen us all yet.” And he gave me a hug.
A hug? Did Jordan Staal just hug me? This dress must be shorter than I thought. Am I covered in glitter?
The other face at the corner was smiling like a jack-o-lantern. I pointed my wand at him. “Happy Halloween!” Max Talbot wore a butler costume – top coat and tails, cummerbund and gloves. Only the bottom half had not pants - just boxer shorts, socks and wingtip shoes. I shook my wand next to my ear, like a broken light bulb.
“Stupid spell, I accidentally made your pants disappear.”
“Next time, aim a little higher,” he said. Another hug, and one for Rebecca.
The house was large, but not pretentious. Vero had hung decorations and lights everywhere. A full-size coffin-shaped wet bar was elevated in the middle of the living room with a tarp underneath. There was even a tub for bobbing for apples. Vero led us into the kitchen.
“Lucy!” Marc put down a bottle of liquor and gave me a hug. He was dressed as an airline pilot – dark blue suit, wings on the lapel, hat and aviator shades on. Vero introduced Rebecca then Marc turned us away from the table.
I froze. Kris Letang had stopped cutting limes and was staring back at me. Dressed as Harry Potter.
Woah mama.
His long hair was parted at center, revealing a lightning bolt scar drawn on his forehead. Tape wrapped the bridge of his glasses. He was so clean shaven he must have done it twenty minutes before I arrived. He had a maroon robe, tossed back over a grey sweater and black pants. The cloak exaggerated the width of his massive shoulders. On the counter next to the cutting board sat a stuffed toy white owl. He was still staring at me. I felt his eyes move up my legs and over my dress like a piece of silk across my skin. It was a moment too long and everyone else was noticing too.
“’Ello Harry!” I faked a British accent, breaking the approaching-awkward silence.
He blinked. “Hi. Hello. Hermione.”
Sidney Crosby stepped around in front of Kris. “Sorry, he hit his head at Quidditch. I’m Sidney,” he shook my hand. I wanted to hug him, mostly for breaking the tension but also because of what we he wearing.
He was dressed as a soldier, in camouflage fatigues and a khaki green shirt with the sleeves torn off. A standard issue, short-brim cap was crammed over his brown hair. The nametag on his chest said ‘Captain’. He’d put a temporary tattoo of the Canadian flag on his massive right bicep.
Hug me, hug me!!!!!
Jordan pushed me from behind. “Hug her! Look what she is wearing!”
Sidney wrapped his arms around me and laughed. “Okay, now we’re friends.”
“Hey, I’m friendly!” Rebecca said, moving in. Sidney moved past me and hugged her too, then adjusted her crown.
“Yes, your majesty,” he said. She cooed then rolled her eyes.
From the corner of my vision, I caught Max making an exasperated face at someone behind me. The only person back there was Kris. Max nodded ever so slightly and his eyes were saying ‘Come on!’ I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Sorry about that,” Kris said as I turned. “I was just surprised to see your outfit. The Hermione costume I saw in the store had more… more costume.”
Oh my God. I tried to cover my blushing as I felt extremely naked standing in the kitchen.
“But I like it!” he blurted. “Sorry. I… er….”
Max to the rescue. He sidled up and put his arm around my shoulder. “Ask her if she wants to pet your owl.” That broke the ice. We both laughed, embarrassed and red-faced. I silently dubbed Max my new best friend and promised to thank him later.
Vero clapped. “Now everyone is friends! Lucy, would you mind taking that fruit to the bar?” She pointed to the limes Kris had been cutting. “And Rebecca, if you could get Jordan to break up those bags of ice?”
I grabbed the fruit and escaped from the kitchen.
____
“Smooth, Tanger,” Max said when she left. “You’re drooling all over your school robes.”
Sidney slumped against the counter. “Uh. Stockings.” He looked at his watch. “Is it too late for me to go buy a Ron Weasley costume?”
Kris closed his eyes, willing the guys away. What a tool, he thought to himself. How could I be so lame? Now I will spend the rest of the night hiding from her.
___
“Awkward turtle!” Rebecca made the hand motions as Jordan poured ice into the bar.
I blinked rapidly and looked around, like I was just waking up. “Sorry, what? I think I blacked out.”
Vero was pouring chips and gummy candies into bowls behind us on the coffee table. In the center, a crystal ball glowed green and the image of a witch’s face floated inside it. She pressed the button on the base and it made an evil hiss.
“Please excuse Kris, he is a little shy. I knew when I saw your costume he would be nervous. I didn’t think he’d be quite so incoherent! I feel bad, perhaps I should have warned him.”
Jordan took the limes from my hand and stationed them alongside the glasses. “And miss that show? No way. That was priceless.”
Oh, poor guy. I thought it was cute.
“It’s cool, Vero. Lucy loves that shy puppy stuff.” Rebecca met my eye, daring me to contradict. I couldn’t.
With his hands on my shoulders, Jordan pushed me back toward the kitchen. “Well its Awkward City in there with Kris and Sid, so back you go.” At the door, he gave me a hip bump and sent me tripping into the room. Max, Kris and Sidney stopped in mid-sentence and looked at me as I clattered across the tile floor.
I headed for the fridge. “I need a drink!”
___
Kris turned away, toward the counter, letting his hair cover his face. Pull it together!
___
Sidney leaned over me into the fridge. I passed a bottle of Newcastle back to him and grabbed a beer for myself. “Miller Lite?” he asked.
I pulled myself up and sat on the counter across from him. “I am a Muggle, I don’t know any better.”
We all talked as Vero buzzed in and out finalizing all preparations. She gave us tasks, but we gravitated back toward the kitchen. Kris seemed to ease up, making a few jokes and telling me he’d chosen Harry Potter over the Jack Sparrow because he was afraid someone else would have the same costume.
“My costume is called Wizard Wanda, actually. I don’t think the Hogwarts approves of the length of my uniform,” I said.
“To hell with Dumbledore, I am in charge here,” Max declared.
The doorbell rang, then rang again as people started to arrive. We could hear Vero greeting people. She rushed into the kitchen.
“Kris, you know that closet upstairs, in the back room? There are extra hangers on the top bar. Could you get them for me? We need a lot,” she turned, then stopped. “Maybe Lucy could help.”
Subtle, V. Like a stegosaurs. I was already out the door before Max could say a word. Kris led me upstairs. The living room was filling in – I spotted a few players that I recognized. Most were admiring the coffin bar and sparkly Jordan was pouring everyone’s first drinks.
“Nice house,” I said as we moved through the hallway. There were skylights overhead, and open doors revealed nicely decorated bedrooms and bathrooms. The last door had a pirate flag on it – skull and crossbones emblazoned with Keep Out!
“Master bedroom?” I pointed at the sign.
Kris laughed. “Just in case the party gets too rowdy.”
He turned a corner and opened the door to a game room. A Wii and Playstation sat atop tangled cords in front of a flat screen TV. A guitar leaned against the wall next to a sled and two pairs of skis. The wall showcased a panoramic photo of the Mellon and a huge picture of the guys on the ice, crowded around the Stanley Cup. I stopped in front of it. Kris opened the closet door, but then came over next to me. My eye was drawn to the center, where Sidney and Jordan were squeezed in among the faces nearest the trophy. I looked around, and Kris held out a hand to the far left side of the glass.
“There I am,” he pointed. “Max and I were talking to a French TV station.” Sure enough, Max was right below him, sasquatch beard and all. They looked thrilled and stunned.
“Amazing,” I said, turning. I put my hand on his upper arm in congratulations. He flinched, slightly, and his muscle flexed beneath my fingers.
Pant, pant, drooooool, said my brain.
I’d never seen a closet with a vaulted ceiling before. Above the normal rack of clothes and top shelf was another rack, way up high, with a bar full of empty hangers. The bottom of the closet was pretty full and the whole space wasn’t that deep. Kris poked his head in alongside mine.
“I am not going to fit up there,” he said.
“I might,” I offered. He grabbed a chair from the card table. I slipped off my shoes, since they didn’t make me any taller than standing on my toes anyway. Kris held the back of the chair, I put my hand on his shoulder and stepped on. My shoulders just fit between the closet wall and all the stuff crammed inside. I held a soccer ball for balance then stretched up.
____
God bless you, Vero, and your neat-freakishness. Thank you for not throwing the coats on some bed, Kris thought.
Lucy was on her toes, on a chair, in a micro-mini skirt above white thigh-high stockings, with her arms over her head. Her elongated legs were a mile long and Kris felt a little dizzy. He greedily took the opportunity to look from her heels, up her sheathed calves and thighs. The urge to measure her bottom with his two hands was overwhelming – he clenched the chair in his fist. Her rounded, feminine hips dipped in at a narrow waist then her body flared back out into her ribs. Deep brown curls tossed down her back.
She’s wearing short under her dress. Kris swore to himself he’d be the only person at the party who got to see those tonight.
____
Kris Letang is looking up my dress!! I should be alarmed. But I’m not. Mwahahahahaha.
I could feel Kris’ eyes on me again, the way I had in the kitchen. His gaze seemed to have weight and texture. Like a touch it sent a shiver of pleasure up my spine. I barely grabbed a handful of hangers and passed them down to Kris. As he moved his hand to take them, the chair rocked slightly. I gasped then Kris grabbed me. Both his arms went around my thighs in a hug, holding me up. His face was pressed to my lower back.
“Sorry!” he gasped. “Okay?”
“Yes, just don’t let go of the chair.” Don’t let go of my legs is more like it. I tossed the next two batches of hangers onto the floor. I balanced on Kris’s shoulder again and I climbed down. He was standing closer than before as if still afraid I might tip over.
“Sorry you almost fell,” he said, inches from my face.
I shook my head, waving away his worries. The next words out of my mouth would have been ‘Lay down so I can accidentally on purpose fall on top of you.’ So I said nothing.
Hangers safely stowed downstairs, Kris followed me to the bar. Glittery Jordan poured Kris a whiskey and opened a beer for me. I didn’t want to walk away but my brain was still spinning from upstairs. I needed something to do. Once again, Max to the rescue.
“Why don’t you introduce Lucy to the rest of the guys?” He said it to Kris, but he was looking at me.
“Uh, yeah,” he said, looking around. When his head was turned, Max rolled his eyes at me. Kris steered me across the room.
Tyler Kennedy and Evgeni Malkin were leaning on the wall, watching a pair of girls dressed as pirate wenches bob for apples. They were being as dainty as possible, trying not to stick their faces in the silver basin, but I could see this would be a wet t-shirt contest before the end of the night.
“Hey hey, Tanger has date!” Malkin said as we came up. Kris blushed.
“I’m Lucy, Vero’s friend. The matching costumes were an accident.” I shook his hand.
“I am Geno,” he said. “That dress no accident.”
Kris slugged him on the arm and I laughed. Leave it to the guy with the least English to say the most. Geno straightened his tie and smiled. He and TK were kitted out as the Blues Brothers. Kris introduced me around to some other people – Matt Cooke and his wife, Craig Adams and wife, a few girlfriends, some friends. The party filled in and people started dancing and drinking in earnest. Vero was graciously mingling, keeping everything moving smoothly. Marc stood near the bar, watching her.
“Having fun?” Marc asked as we circled near.
“It’s a great party! I knew Vero was holding out on me, but I would not have guessed this.”
He laughed. “She’s so friendly, but it’s gone badly a couple times. Some girls get very scary around… around….”
“Around hot, rich, famous guys? Around Jordan Staal covered in glitter?” I suggested.
“Yeah, that,” he said. “She usually does a little test when she starts thinking about inviting a new girl over.”
Someone jostled Kris as they passed us. He stepped into me, catching himself with an arm around my back. Marc grabbed the beer in my hand as I put my other one to Kris’ chest. Swooooooooooon. He was holding me, my hand over his heart where his pecs started to rise out of the center of his chest. We stood like that a second too long before he unwrapped me. Marc was watching us carefully.
I giggled like a teenybopper. “Was that the test?”
____
I have to get away from all these people. I have to get her out of here. I can’t think. Kris excused himself then wandered into the kitchen, hoping he might find a quiet place to hide a moment.
“Any luck with Lucy?” Sidney asked, stuffing a carrot stick into his mouth. Even at a party, Crosby was eating his vegetables.
“I don’t know, man. I’m not very good at this stuff.”
A slice of cucumber disappeared. Sid wasn’t shy, but he could be a bit awkward around girls himself. “Don’t worry about it. I hear she likes the shy thing.”
Kris looked out the kitchen door, across the backyard. He had an idea.
___
I was dancing with Rebecca and TK when Kris came back into the room. He worked his way between all the bodies, over to us. Someone’s iPod was churning out Akon.
Hell, he’s never going to make a move.
When he reached us, I didn’t ask. I just started dancing with him. Turning slightly in his direction, I reached out for his waist and stepped into him. Surprise flashed on his face then he almost smiled. He watched me for a second before he started to move. Soon his hands were on my hips. TK gladly took the chance to distract Rebecca.
He has good rhythm. You know what they say about…. The song changed to Justin Timberlake. Kris moved closer and slid his thigh between mine.
Well, I stand corrected. That was definitely a move.
He didn’t look up. I put my arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer. In my head, the emergency broadcast system sounded a warning. It was like a high-pitched siren noise that only I could hear. Back at my body, Kris seemed lost in his own thoughts. The muscles in his legs flexed as he moved, rubbing themselves against mine with a steady pace. My hips swiveled slowly into his. We weren’t grinding, not really, but this was as close as dancing got before it got serious. By the end of the song, I was holding on to him as much to be close as to keep from falling down.
“Hey! No dancing like that at Hogwarts!” Max pushed us apart. I smacked him with my wand. He looked at Kris, who just smiled. Then Max wrapped around my waist, lifted me as much as he could and hauled me out of the living room. I squealed as he walked me through the kitchen, past a bewildered Sidney and Vero, right outside. He put me down on the porch, ducked inside and locked the door. I knocked sadly on the window, but he stuck his tongue out and disappeared. A second later, his face was replaced by Kris’. Kris opened the door, but he was looking past me.
“Look at that,” he pointed over my shoulder.
At the next house over, someone had gone all out for the holiday. A bare tree was wrapped in orange lights. A witch stirred a cauldron on the lawn and a black cat arched its back against a moon on the roof. Tombstones littered the yard. Kris started heading over, then stopped. He reached his hand out for mine. We moved through reading the comedy tombstones. “RIP – Barry M. Deep,” “Here lies my wife, I bid her goodbye. She rests in peace, and now so do I.”
“This one is my favorite,” I said. “Here Lies Joyce. She'd rather not but has no choice.”
As I spoke, a light popped on inside the house. Whoops! Kris snatched up my hand and we hurried back into Marc’s yard. We stifled our laughter until we were on the porch. I sank down onto a bench at their outdoor table. They had a pool and a lovely little rock garden with water running over it. Kris sat down next to me, wedging himself into the bench. His shoulders were so broad there was nowhere for his arm to go except around my shoulders.
“Cold?” he asked as if that’s why his arm was around me. He was radiating warmth, the way some guys do, like their bodies have figured out how to produce unlimited energy. The moon was almost full and very bright. We sat without talking, looking at the stars for a few minutes.
“How do you know Vero?” he asked, his voice quiet after the ruckus inside the house.
“We met at the gym. We take the same workout classes.”
He smiled. “It looks like they’re working.”
“Thanks Potter.” I reeeaaaallllly want to kiss you.
He shifted, pulling his arm closer around me. I put one of my ankles over his, the most contact I could manage without scandal in this dress.
____
I really want to kiss her. She has her leg on mine. Does that mean she wants me to kiss her? Kris wondered.
“If I were dressed as a pirate, would you still be hanging out with me?”
I laughed silently, my body jostling against his. “Nope. I only like high school boys.”
Okay, I deserved that. What a creepy question, he scolded himself.
“If I wasn’t wearing these stockings, would you still be hanging out with me?” I asked.
“Depends. Would you still be wearing those shorts?”
I gasped and jumped up.
Oh shit, I’m such an asshole and now I look like a pervert. Only Max could get away with a comment like that. She’ll be running away now. Kris recoiled from himself.
“Kristopher Letang! You were looking up my dress!” I had my hands on my hips, feet apart. But I was smiling. He put his hands up to protect himself.
“I couldn’t help it! I’m sorry!”
A peal of laughter rang out of me. I pushed his hands down and sat on his lap. My knees came up and feet rested on the bench next to us as I would my arms around Kris’ neck.
“I would be very offended if you hadn’t. I mean, how hard can a girl work?”
And then I kissed him.
This is insane, you’re going to wake up any second, probably in the hospital with a bandage around your head. I thought this while I kissed him, almost forgetting in my stream of consciousness that his lips were still pressed to mine, his hands around my waist. When the soft, warm tip of his tongue touched mine, I was shocked back to reality by the fact that he was, in fact, kissing me back. This triggered another flood of less-random thoughts – costumes, nudity, that back room where we found the hangers. When he brushed an encroaching curl from my cheek, I imagined it was summer, the sun was hot and we had this backyard all to ourselves. He broke the kiss, found my eyes and I had to shake the vision from my head.
“There were no girls like you in my high school.” He pressed his mouth to mine again, lightly, lingering. I smiled beneath it.
____
“Lucy! Just wear the damned things,” Rebecca shouted from the other room.
Okay. I smoothed the lacey band over the thigh, stepped into my shoes and looked into the mirror. Here goes nothing.
____
In early August, a new girl set up her workout step bench next to mine in the BodyStep classroom at Gold’s Gym in Market Square. Some of the choreography was a bit tough, but she smiled at me when she missed a step. At the end of class, she introduced herself as Vero. Before long we were taking the same 3 classes a week and becoming friends.
After about a month, we went for coffee after a CardioFusion class. She was funny and outgoing. The only thing she wasn’t forthcoming about was her life in Pittsburgh. I knew she was from Quebec, and she simply explained that she’d moved to PA with her boyfriend and she worked for a non-profit. We hung out a few times over the next weeks, and she never elaborated. I always thought that was the tiniest bit odd.
In October, I invited Vero to my birthday party. She RSVP’d with a +1. When Vero swept into the bar that night, all long hair and high heels, I suddenly understood. Her smile was hopeful and slightly apologetic at the same time. So here’s my big secret, it said. Her boyfriend was Marc-Andre Fleury, goalie for the Pittsburgh Penguins.
“I knew you were hiding something good!” I whispered to her as we hugged.
Marc shook my hand and passed me a small, wrapped parcel. “Vero talks about you all the time. Sorry we haven’t met before now.” I opened the gift – a super cute blue workout top from Lululemon and a pair of tickets to the next day’s Pens game.
Ten minutes later, Rebecca squished herself between me and the bar. “Is that Marc-Andre Fleury at your birthday party?”
“Hold it together, Becks!” I handed her a beer and the tickets. “We’re going to the game tomorrow.”
Vero sat with us at the game. She apologized ten times that we couldn’t go to the locker room that night – the guys were heading right out for a road trip. “Marc said they would win one for your birthday.” And they did. We had a great time.
Ten days later, Vero bounded into class on a Tuesday afternoon. “Lucy, we are throwing a Halloween party. Will you come? Please say you’ll come! It’s the first year that Marc and I are doing it – it’s going to be epic.” She was practically cackling with glee. And who doesn’t love an excuse to wear something slutty and call it a costume?
___
“I’m nervous!” Rebecca hollered. Her heels clicked around the hallway floor and I could hear hairspray in the air. I was a little nervous too. Meeting an entire team of hockey players was bad enough. Doing it at the legendary annual Halloween party wearing a dress that barely covered my ass was something else entirely. Vero promised us a night to remember – I had a hard time seeing how it could be anything but. With a flip and shake of my hair, I was ready.
“Shit Luce, you look hot.” Rebecca stood in the doorway, pinning up the apron on her shirt, low cut red and black striped costume. The little crown perched atop her head glittered with red jewels on every spire.
“The joker ain't the only fool, who'll do anything for you,” I sang from that old Juice Newton song ‘Queen of Hearts.’
___
We pulled into the driveway behind four other cars. It was barely 9 PM and I realized that Vero had probably asked us to come early. I hoped to make at least a few friends before her hostess duties pulled her away. I knocked on the door, next to a paper skeleton head, and let myself in.
“Hello?” I called.
“Lucy!” She yelled as she flew into the entryway. “Oh my God!” She stopped dead.
Her eyes were all over my Hermione Granger costume. I wore black high heels with a little buckle on the toe – very school girl – and white thigh-high stockings that Rebecca had battled me into. My little grey dress had maroon and gold trim and a very deep v-neck. Over my shoulders I had a black cape with a white collar. The short, attached necktie in Gryffindor colors ended suggestively at my cleavage. The outfit was really, really short, so I’d added little black shorts that only showed if I leaned over too far. My naturally curly brown hair was the piece de resistance - spiraled and fluffed into a mane spilling down my back.
Vero was dressed as a flight attendant – short, mod dress in bright sky blue, a little cap skewed over her forehead. High white boots and a scarf at her neck completed the sexy, almost 60’s retro look.
“I did not plan this, I swear!” she said, throwing a hug around me. Before she could explain, two heads popped around the corner.
“Shut up,” Jordan Staal called. His blond hair was slightly longer than usual, and had been carefully gelled into a messy, moody mop. He wore a gray button down shirt, open to the navel. Some kind of makeup made his skin two shades paler, and he’d been rubbed down with glitter. He smiled through a set of fangs.
“Edward Cullen,” I nearly died. “Best. Costume. Ever.”
He laughed. “You haven’t seen us all yet.” And he gave me a hug.
A hug? Did Jordan Staal just hug me? This dress must be shorter than I thought. Am I covered in glitter?
The other face at the corner was smiling like a jack-o-lantern. I pointed my wand at him. “Happy Halloween!” Max Talbot wore a butler costume – top coat and tails, cummerbund and gloves. Only the bottom half had not pants - just boxer shorts, socks and wingtip shoes. I shook my wand next to my ear, like a broken light bulb.
“Stupid spell, I accidentally made your pants disappear.”
“Next time, aim a little higher,” he said. Another hug, and one for Rebecca.
The house was large, but not pretentious. Vero had hung decorations and lights everywhere. A full-size coffin-shaped wet bar was elevated in the middle of the living room with a tarp underneath. There was even a tub for bobbing for apples. Vero led us into the kitchen.
“Lucy!” Marc put down a bottle of liquor and gave me a hug. He was dressed as an airline pilot – dark blue suit, wings on the lapel, hat and aviator shades on. Vero introduced Rebecca then Marc turned us away from the table.
I froze. Kris Letang had stopped cutting limes and was staring back at me. Dressed as Harry Potter.
Woah mama.
His long hair was parted at center, revealing a lightning bolt scar drawn on his forehead. Tape wrapped the bridge of his glasses. He was so clean shaven he must have done it twenty minutes before I arrived. He had a maroon robe, tossed back over a grey sweater and black pants. The cloak exaggerated the width of his massive shoulders. On the counter next to the cutting board sat a stuffed toy white owl. He was still staring at me. I felt his eyes move up my legs and over my dress like a piece of silk across my skin. It was a moment too long and everyone else was noticing too.
“’Ello Harry!” I faked a British accent, breaking the approaching-awkward silence.
He blinked. “Hi. Hello. Hermione.”
Sidney Crosby stepped around in front of Kris. “Sorry, he hit his head at Quidditch. I’m Sidney,” he shook my hand. I wanted to hug him, mostly for breaking the tension but also because of what we he wearing.
He was dressed as a soldier, in camouflage fatigues and a khaki green shirt with the sleeves torn off. A standard issue, short-brim cap was crammed over his brown hair. The nametag on his chest said ‘Captain’. He’d put a temporary tattoo of the Canadian flag on his massive right bicep.
Hug me, hug me!!!!!
Jordan pushed me from behind. “Hug her! Look what she is wearing!”
Sidney wrapped his arms around me and laughed. “Okay, now we’re friends.”
“Hey, I’m friendly!” Rebecca said, moving in. Sidney moved past me and hugged her too, then adjusted her crown.
“Yes, your majesty,” he said. She cooed then rolled her eyes.
From the corner of my vision, I caught Max making an exasperated face at someone behind me. The only person back there was Kris. Max nodded ever so slightly and his eyes were saying ‘Come on!’ I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Sorry about that,” Kris said as I turned. “I was just surprised to see your outfit. The Hermione costume I saw in the store had more… more costume.”
Oh my God. I tried to cover my blushing as I felt extremely naked standing in the kitchen.
“But I like it!” he blurted. “Sorry. I… er….”
Max to the rescue. He sidled up and put his arm around my shoulder. “Ask her if she wants to pet your owl.” That broke the ice. We both laughed, embarrassed and red-faced. I silently dubbed Max my new best friend and promised to thank him later.
Vero clapped. “Now everyone is friends! Lucy, would you mind taking that fruit to the bar?” She pointed to the limes Kris had been cutting. “And Rebecca, if you could get Jordan to break up those bags of ice?”
I grabbed the fruit and escaped from the kitchen.
____
“Smooth, Tanger,” Max said when she left. “You’re drooling all over your school robes.”
Sidney slumped against the counter. “Uh. Stockings.” He looked at his watch. “Is it too late for me to go buy a Ron Weasley costume?”
Kris closed his eyes, willing the guys away. What a tool, he thought to himself. How could I be so lame? Now I will spend the rest of the night hiding from her.
___
“Awkward turtle!” Rebecca made the hand motions as Jordan poured ice into the bar.
I blinked rapidly and looked around, like I was just waking up. “Sorry, what? I think I blacked out.”
Vero was pouring chips and gummy candies into bowls behind us on the coffee table. In the center, a crystal ball glowed green and the image of a witch’s face floated inside it. She pressed the button on the base and it made an evil hiss.
“Please excuse Kris, he is a little shy. I knew when I saw your costume he would be nervous. I didn’t think he’d be quite so incoherent! I feel bad, perhaps I should have warned him.”
Jordan took the limes from my hand and stationed them alongside the glasses. “And miss that show? No way. That was priceless.”
Oh, poor guy. I thought it was cute.
“It’s cool, Vero. Lucy loves that shy puppy stuff.” Rebecca met my eye, daring me to contradict. I couldn’t.
With his hands on my shoulders, Jordan pushed me back toward the kitchen. “Well its Awkward City in there with Kris and Sid, so back you go.” At the door, he gave me a hip bump and sent me tripping into the room. Max, Kris and Sidney stopped in mid-sentence and looked at me as I clattered across the tile floor.
I headed for the fridge. “I need a drink!”
___
Kris turned away, toward the counter, letting his hair cover his face. Pull it together!
___
Sidney leaned over me into the fridge. I passed a bottle of Newcastle back to him and grabbed a beer for myself. “Miller Lite?” he asked.
I pulled myself up and sat on the counter across from him. “I am a Muggle, I don’t know any better.”
We all talked as Vero buzzed in and out finalizing all preparations. She gave us tasks, but we gravitated back toward the kitchen. Kris seemed to ease up, making a few jokes and telling me he’d chosen Harry Potter over the Jack Sparrow because he was afraid someone else would have the same costume.
“My costume is called Wizard Wanda, actually. I don’t think the Hogwarts approves of the length of my uniform,” I said.
“To hell with Dumbledore, I am in charge here,” Max declared.
The doorbell rang, then rang again as people started to arrive. We could hear Vero greeting people. She rushed into the kitchen.
“Kris, you know that closet upstairs, in the back room? There are extra hangers on the top bar. Could you get them for me? We need a lot,” she turned, then stopped. “Maybe Lucy could help.”
Subtle, V. Like a stegosaurs. I was already out the door before Max could say a word. Kris led me upstairs. The living room was filling in – I spotted a few players that I recognized. Most were admiring the coffin bar and sparkly Jordan was pouring everyone’s first drinks.
“Nice house,” I said as we moved through the hallway. There were skylights overhead, and open doors revealed nicely decorated bedrooms and bathrooms. The last door had a pirate flag on it – skull and crossbones emblazoned with Keep Out!
“Master bedroom?” I pointed at the sign.
Kris laughed. “Just in case the party gets too rowdy.”
He turned a corner and opened the door to a game room. A Wii and Playstation sat atop tangled cords in front of a flat screen TV. A guitar leaned against the wall next to a sled and two pairs of skis. The wall showcased a panoramic photo of the Mellon and a huge picture of the guys on the ice, crowded around the Stanley Cup. I stopped in front of it. Kris opened the closet door, but then came over next to me. My eye was drawn to the center, where Sidney and Jordan were squeezed in among the faces nearest the trophy. I looked around, and Kris held out a hand to the far left side of the glass.
“There I am,” he pointed. “Max and I were talking to a French TV station.” Sure enough, Max was right below him, sasquatch beard and all. They looked thrilled and stunned.
“Amazing,” I said, turning. I put my hand on his upper arm in congratulations. He flinched, slightly, and his muscle flexed beneath my fingers.
Pant, pant, drooooool, said my brain.
I’d never seen a closet with a vaulted ceiling before. Above the normal rack of clothes and top shelf was another rack, way up high, with a bar full of empty hangers. The bottom of the closet was pretty full and the whole space wasn’t that deep. Kris poked his head in alongside mine.
“I am not going to fit up there,” he said.
“I might,” I offered. He grabbed a chair from the card table. I slipped off my shoes, since they didn’t make me any taller than standing on my toes anyway. Kris held the back of the chair, I put my hand on his shoulder and stepped on. My shoulders just fit between the closet wall and all the stuff crammed inside. I held a soccer ball for balance then stretched up.
____
God bless you, Vero, and your neat-freakishness. Thank you for not throwing the coats on some bed, Kris thought.
Lucy was on her toes, on a chair, in a micro-mini skirt above white thigh-high stockings, with her arms over her head. Her elongated legs were a mile long and Kris felt a little dizzy. He greedily took the opportunity to look from her heels, up her sheathed calves and thighs. The urge to measure her bottom with his two hands was overwhelming – he clenched the chair in his fist. Her rounded, feminine hips dipped in at a narrow waist then her body flared back out into her ribs. Deep brown curls tossed down her back.
She’s wearing short under her dress. Kris swore to himself he’d be the only person at the party who got to see those tonight.
____
Kris Letang is looking up my dress!! I should be alarmed. But I’m not. Mwahahahahaha.
I could feel Kris’ eyes on me again, the way I had in the kitchen. His gaze seemed to have weight and texture. Like a touch it sent a shiver of pleasure up my spine. I barely grabbed a handful of hangers and passed them down to Kris. As he moved his hand to take them, the chair rocked slightly. I gasped then Kris grabbed me. Both his arms went around my thighs in a hug, holding me up. His face was pressed to my lower back.
“Sorry!” he gasped. “Okay?”
“Yes, just don’t let go of the chair.” Don’t let go of my legs is more like it. I tossed the next two batches of hangers onto the floor. I balanced on Kris’s shoulder again and I climbed down. He was standing closer than before as if still afraid I might tip over.
“Sorry you almost fell,” he said, inches from my face.
I shook my head, waving away his worries. The next words out of my mouth would have been ‘Lay down so I can accidentally on purpose fall on top of you.’ So I said nothing.
Hangers safely stowed downstairs, Kris followed me to the bar. Glittery Jordan poured Kris a whiskey and opened a beer for me. I didn’t want to walk away but my brain was still spinning from upstairs. I needed something to do. Once again, Max to the rescue.
“Why don’t you introduce Lucy to the rest of the guys?” He said it to Kris, but he was looking at me.
“Uh, yeah,” he said, looking around. When his head was turned, Max rolled his eyes at me. Kris steered me across the room.
Tyler Kennedy and Evgeni Malkin were leaning on the wall, watching a pair of girls dressed as pirate wenches bob for apples. They were being as dainty as possible, trying not to stick their faces in the silver basin, but I could see this would be a wet t-shirt contest before the end of the night.
“Hey hey, Tanger has date!” Malkin said as we came up. Kris blushed.
“I’m Lucy, Vero’s friend. The matching costumes were an accident.” I shook his hand.
“I am Geno,” he said. “That dress no accident.”
Kris slugged him on the arm and I laughed. Leave it to the guy with the least English to say the most. Geno straightened his tie and smiled. He and TK were kitted out as the Blues Brothers. Kris introduced me around to some other people – Matt Cooke and his wife, Craig Adams and wife, a few girlfriends, some friends. The party filled in and people started dancing and drinking in earnest. Vero was graciously mingling, keeping everything moving smoothly. Marc stood near the bar, watching her.
“Having fun?” Marc asked as we circled near.
“It’s a great party! I knew Vero was holding out on me, but I would not have guessed this.”
He laughed. “She’s so friendly, but it’s gone badly a couple times. Some girls get very scary around… around….”
“Around hot, rich, famous guys? Around Jordan Staal covered in glitter?” I suggested.
“Yeah, that,” he said. “She usually does a little test when she starts thinking about inviting a new girl over.”
Someone jostled Kris as they passed us. He stepped into me, catching himself with an arm around my back. Marc grabbed the beer in my hand as I put my other one to Kris’ chest. Swooooooooooon. He was holding me, my hand over his heart where his pecs started to rise out of the center of his chest. We stood like that a second too long before he unwrapped me. Marc was watching us carefully.
I giggled like a teenybopper. “Was that the test?”
____
I have to get away from all these people. I have to get her out of here. I can’t think. Kris excused himself then wandered into the kitchen, hoping he might find a quiet place to hide a moment.
“Any luck with Lucy?” Sidney asked, stuffing a carrot stick into his mouth. Even at a party, Crosby was eating his vegetables.
“I don’t know, man. I’m not very good at this stuff.”
A slice of cucumber disappeared. Sid wasn’t shy, but he could be a bit awkward around girls himself. “Don’t worry about it. I hear she likes the shy thing.”
Kris looked out the kitchen door, across the backyard. He had an idea.
___
I was dancing with Rebecca and TK when Kris came back into the room. He worked his way between all the bodies, over to us. Someone’s iPod was churning out Akon.
Hell, he’s never going to make a move.
When he reached us, I didn’t ask. I just started dancing with him. Turning slightly in his direction, I reached out for his waist and stepped into him. Surprise flashed on his face then he almost smiled. He watched me for a second before he started to move. Soon his hands were on my hips. TK gladly took the chance to distract Rebecca.
He has good rhythm. You know what they say about…. The song changed to Justin Timberlake. Kris moved closer and slid his thigh between mine.
Well, I stand corrected. That was definitely a move.
He didn’t look up. I put my arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer. In my head, the emergency broadcast system sounded a warning. It was like a high-pitched siren noise that only I could hear. Back at my body, Kris seemed lost in his own thoughts. The muscles in his legs flexed as he moved, rubbing themselves against mine with a steady pace. My hips swiveled slowly into his. We weren’t grinding, not really, but this was as close as dancing got before it got serious. By the end of the song, I was holding on to him as much to be close as to keep from falling down.
“Hey! No dancing like that at Hogwarts!” Max pushed us apart. I smacked him with my wand. He looked at Kris, who just smiled. Then Max wrapped around my waist, lifted me as much as he could and hauled me out of the living room. I squealed as he walked me through the kitchen, past a bewildered Sidney and Vero, right outside. He put me down on the porch, ducked inside and locked the door. I knocked sadly on the window, but he stuck his tongue out and disappeared. A second later, his face was replaced by Kris’. Kris opened the door, but he was looking past me.
“Look at that,” he pointed over my shoulder.
At the next house over, someone had gone all out for the holiday. A bare tree was wrapped in orange lights. A witch stirred a cauldron on the lawn and a black cat arched its back against a moon on the roof. Tombstones littered the yard. Kris started heading over, then stopped. He reached his hand out for mine. We moved through reading the comedy tombstones. “RIP – Barry M. Deep,” “Here lies my wife, I bid her goodbye. She rests in peace, and now so do I.”
“This one is my favorite,” I said. “Here Lies Joyce. She'd rather not but has no choice.”
As I spoke, a light popped on inside the house. Whoops! Kris snatched up my hand and we hurried back into Marc’s yard. We stifled our laughter until we were on the porch. I sank down onto a bench at their outdoor table. They had a pool and a lovely little rock garden with water running over it. Kris sat down next to me, wedging himself into the bench. His shoulders were so broad there was nowhere for his arm to go except around my shoulders.
“Cold?” he asked as if that’s why his arm was around me. He was radiating warmth, the way some guys do, like their bodies have figured out how to produce unlimited energy. The moon was almost full and very bright. We sat without talking, looking at the stars for a few minutes.
“How do you know Vero?” he asked, his voice quiet after the ruckus inside the house.
“We met at the gym. We take the same workout classes.”
He smiled. “It looks like they’re working.”
“Thanks Potter.” I reeeaaaallllly want to kiss you.
He shifted, pulling his arm closer around me. I put one of my ankles over his, the most contact I could manage without scandal in this dress.
____
I really want to kiss her. She has her leg on mine. Does that mean she wants me to kiss her? Kris wondered.
“If I were dressed as a pirate, would you still be hanging out with me?”
I laughed silently, my body jostling against his. “Nope. I only like high school boys.”
Okay, I deserved that. What a creepy question, he scolded himself.
“If I wasn’t wearing these stockings, would you still be hanging out with me?” I asked.
“Depends. Would you still be wearing those shorts?”
I gasped and jumped up.
Oh shit, I’m such an asshole and now I look like a pervert. Only Max could get away with a comment like that. She’ll be running away now. Kris recoiled from himself.
“Kristopher Letang! You were looking up my dress!” I had my hands on my hips, feet apart. But I was smiling. He put his hands up to protect himself.
“I couldn’t help it! I’m sorry!”
A peal of laughter rang out of me. I pushed his hands down and sat on his lap. My knees came up and feet rested on the bench next to us as I would my arms around Kris’ neck.
“I would be very offended if you hadn’t. I mean, how hard can a girl work?”
And then I kissed him.
This is insane, you’re going to wake up any second, probably in the hospital with a bandage around your head. I thought this while I kissed him, almost forgetting in my stream of consciousness that his lips were still pressed to mine, his hands around my waist. When the soft, warm tip of his tongue touched mine, I was shocked back to reality by the fact that he was, in fact, kissing me back. This triggered another flood of less-random thoughts – costumes, nudity, that back room where we found the hangers. When he brushed an encroaching curl from my cheek, I imagined it was summer, the sun was hot and we had this backyard all to ourselves. He broke the kiss, found my eyes and I had to shake the vision from my head.
“There were no girls like you in my high school.” He pressed his mouth to mine again, lightly, lingering. I smiled beneath it.
____