Heart of Man

“LET’S HEAR IT FOR AMERICA’S SWEETHEARTS! I MUST CONFESS! I’M IN LOVE WITH MY OWN SINS!” I sang along with my new friend, Mr. Patrick Kane, in the First Class seats of our flight to Vancouver, in which we all happened to have seats together, the rest of First Class was empty, and Jon Boy was trying to sleep. Talk about bonding in two hours? We made that possible.

“God, shut up.” Well, Patrick was shouting. I was more humming along, since I didn’t know the words to well, as his iPod was shoved into a dock on the table infront of us.

“Well now, we call this the act of mating. But there are several other very important differences between humans and animals that you should know about,” Patrick began again, only quieter, as the same song began filling the silence of the comfortable first class section.

“YOU AND ME BABY AREN’T NOTHING BUT MAMMALS, SO LETS DO IT LIKE THEY DO IT ON THE DISCOVERY CHANNEL!” I slammed my hands against my ears, as I put my forehead on Jonathan’s shoulder, trying to drown the blonde out, who was singing about his “waffle house waffles”?

~~~~~~~

“So, Anna, you have friends competing in the Olympics, I’m guessing? Any participation on your past?” Jon struck up the conversation, once Patrick had successfully fallen asleep in his chair, flopped everywhere. Good thing the players haven’t seen the roster yet. A. Trovato isn’t suspicious or anything..

“Not really. I’m just a spectator, for the most part. My friend is competing though, so I’m just here to help him out and support him.” I yawned.

“What country is he from?”

~~~~~~~

I pulled my jacket tight around me, as Jon and I waiting for the luggage carousel, when my phone began to vibrate.



I smiled, before flipping the device closed, when the horn sounded for the metal lane to begin moving.

“So where are you staying?” Patrick mumbled groggily, hair disheveled from his interrupted nap. I shrugged, hoping to avoid the situation. I hated conflict.

“No idea. My friend said I’d be staying with his cousin and sister nearby, so eh.” Kane just kind of shrugged, but unfortunately, Jon was paying too much attention to the conversation.

“Are they Canadian?”

“No. They are staying in a college friend’s empty house, since they are on their second honeymoon, and allowed us to use it.” I glanced up and down the metal lane, before spotting two Chicago Blackhawk hockey bags, and their respective owners’ bags behind them.

Following Jon, I grabbed Patrick’s bags, and dragged them out of the line of view. “Well, that was easy. Man, I’m bushed!”

I chuckled quietly, as Patrick pretended to wipe the sweat off of his forehead. “I’m sure it was. Anyways, I’m afraid I have to leave you gentlemen. I must find my own bags, and get to my cousin’s. Good luck, and maybe I’ll see you around!”

Patrick gave me a warm hug, before pulling my phone out of my pocket and putting his number in it. Jonathan shook his head, before messing up his dark hair and pulling me into a swift embrace. “I’m sure we will. Want my number too? Incase you are ever lost in Chicago?”

I laughed, covering my mouth out of embarrassment, as I pulled away, nodding. “That’d be nice.”

~~~~~~~

I waiting a good twenty minutes after I watched Jon and Patrick leave the area, before going back to grab my now visible hockey bag, and personal bag. Slinging the dark green bag onto my shoulder, past my satchel, before picking up the handle bag to my black equipment bag that felt as if it weighted a million pounds. Fucking Teemu..

I stood outside of the airport, and soon enough, I was standing infront of room 672, floor 6, and listening to some outrageous complaints about a hockey game, and the calls being made. I checked my phone for messages, in case something changed.













Sighing, I lifted my hand and knocked. And knocked. And knocked. And knocked some more. Pulling my phone out, I ignored the text from Patrick, whom I was conversing with in the taxi, and dialed the familiar number.

“Hello?” I could hear the TV in the background.

“Hey. Come open the fucking door, bitch. This bag has been pissing me off.” I smiled, before snapping the phone closed. I absolutely adored loved Teemu. We had instantly hit it off, and he felt like my other half at times, and other times, I wanted to punch him with a rock. But I guess that’s what you get, when you spent your life in some fancy smanchcy rich kid Italian school with no friends, your mother, father, and a hockey rink. No friends and a horrible sense of humour.

“ANNNNNAAAA BANAAAAANNNNNNAAAAA!” I groaned, as the door was ripped open to reveal my second other-half, Lasse.

It fucking sucked to be the youngest on the team, with the next youngest person being 2 years older than you.

Lasse was shortly followed by my other second-half? One could wonder how many halves a person could have. Valtteri Fippula stood behind him. While Teemu was my rock at the lowest points in my life, Val was the one I went to for advice, and life itself. He was the reason I was here. We had met at the World U18 Championships back in ’02, and he was probably one of my oldest friends.

After Lasse’s ambush of hugs, his attention span quickly focused on the now Call Of Duty game that played on the television, drawing him farther into the room.

“I can’t believe you actually convinced me to come. You look so much better than our last practice,” I smiled, while we slid my bags into the hotel room. Once it was done, without a word, he stepped into the hallway, closing the room door behind him.

His arms wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me into his t-shirt-clad chest, smiling softly. His eyes were as blue as the ocean. As blue as I can remember..

“Anna Banana, I missed you. Detroit seemed almost miserable without you,” he mused, his chest humming with laughter as I wrapped my arms around his waist, hugging my dearest friend tightly.

“Finland felt so empty without you, and the guys, Val. I got so sick of practicing with myself. Running, shooting, skating.... the days just seemed to blend together. I just felt so useless, and like a waste of time,” I sighed, resting my head on his chest, as his fingers made their way into my bun of hair, pulling it out slightly. “You were over here, working so hard, and I sat on my ass for 6 months. Kaipasin sinua niin paljon. (I missed you so much.)

“Anna, listen to me. You training and practiced hard. I know you did, and it shows. You look even more radiant that the first day I met you, eight years ago, and I never thought that possible. Piristää, Banaani. Olemme yhdessä tällä hetkellä, joten tehkäämme suurin osa siitä, okei? (Cheer up, Banana. We're together for the time being, so let us make the most of it, alright?) I smiled at the foreign words that reached my ears, as we began to walk down the hallway.

He entwined our fingers in a way I missed terribly, as we slipped down the hallway unnoticed. Just some regular Olympic athlete, and some regular puck bunny. As least to the usual eyes who saw it every day, that’s what they saw.

”Mitä sanoitte, että yö, saivat minut seuraamaan kautta, ja antaa tämän laukaus. Halusin vain sanoa kiitos.” ( What you said that night, convinced me to follow through, and give this a shot. I just wanted to say thank you.) I kept my head down, as we stepped into the first level entry way out of the metal elevator.

”You never have to thank me, Anna. Being your friend is enough for me,” he smiled, brining my hand up to his lips, and pressing them against the back of my hand. I grinned like a fool on Christmas.

”Anna?”

Too bad Christmas was ruined.