Double Booked

There was some kind of magic that accompanied waking up in the Black Hills.

Nora discovered that magic first thing in the morning, spending an extra fifteen minutes in the queen size bed just enjoying the comfort of the wilderness. The sun - streaming cheerfully through the window - was what had woken her in the first place. It’s touch was warm welcoming on her skin and she silently accepted that it must have been brighter and more effective out here in South Dakota versus in the city. With a stretch that eased the discomforts of sleeping in a bed that was not her own, Nora swung her feet from beneath the covers and onto the cool wooden floors of the cabin’s second story.

The stairs creaked loudly as she descended them, but thought indifferently about the noise. After all, it wasn’t like there was anyone else around to-

Oh. Right.

Midway down the staircase, Nora froze. Last night had become a grey area for her during her slumber; she still wasn’t sure if its events were the byproduct of a bizarre dream or something else. Something real.

With a pair of fingers crossed behind her back in hopes that it was really just a dream, Nora peeked over the stair’s railing to where the couch was nestled against the wall. And sure enough, there was that snoring lump of intrusion that had quickly turned her vacation into something rotten.

A string of curses trailed through her mind as she quickly - but most importantly quietly - retraced her steps up to the bedside table, where her phone was still charging. She grabbed it, along with her favorite sweatshirt and an ancient pair of pajama pants leftover from last night, before retreating to the first floor. She silently thanked whoever designed the layout of the cabin as she padded quickly across the floor for putting the front door so close to the steps.

As soon as she slipped through the door, she huffed out a breath she had been holding on to for far too long. After ruling out her dream theory, Nora had to configure a Plan B to accompany her efforts to save her vacation. It would have been one thing for a complete stranger to have crashed her vacation. But this was different, because while he may not have known her, she knew him. And - to Nora - that made things worse. Much worse.

Always one to be a quick problem solver, Nora formulated her next move. She’d call the friend that rented the cabin out, tell her side of the story, and hopefully something would be done about her dilemma. But first things first, she set out to find Reception Hill.

Because while many other young women might have disagreed, Sidney Crosby was not welcome to crash her vacation.

---

I’m all alone. It’s just me here. What happened last night was just some messed up sex dream.

Those were Sidney Crosby’s first thoughts upon waking that morning, and they were thoughts he was determined to believe. At least until he found proof that they were false.

That proof came sooner than expected as he sat up and found a suitcase that wasn’t his gapping open in the middle of the floor. He frowned, liking the idea of an unfortunate sex dream much better than this.

Reality. Ugh.

He supposed he should have done something to fix this right away, but according to Maslow’s Hierarchy, psychological needs - in this case, hunger - came before safety needs. And - being every last bit the male human he was - he responded to the grumbling in his stomach first.

If there was one benefit to the girl who was single-handedly demolishing his desperate need to be alone, it was that she had brought food. Milk, eggs, butter, flower, suger. Obviously, she cooked. Fortunately, so did he.

While his skills in the kitchen were no where near paralleled to his talents on the ice, Sidney knew the basics to creating a meal that was edible without being too bland. Rounding together the necessary ingredients, Sidney got to work. His rumbling stomach urged him to add the bag of chocolate chips he had found to the batter he was creating entirely from memory. For now, the situation at hand could wait.

Because when Sidney Crosby was hungry, Sidney Crosby was hungry.

--

“Hi, you’ve reached Emily. I can’t get to the phone right now, so just leave me a message after-”

Nora groaned at the pre-recorded message and rendered her seven minute hike to Reception Hill completely useless. She was never one for superstition, but it was hard to ignore that luck certainly wasn’t favoring her as of late. Wanting at least some sense of accomplishment for her fruitless journey, Nora did as she was directed and left a message after the beep.

“Hi, Em. Nora here. I made it to the cabin fine last night. Everything turned on just fine and I got the water working. But there’s just one tiny problem - I’m not exactly alone. As in you must have double booked the cabin because there’s a man sleeping on the couch in there as we speak. So…call me back when you get this. Or try to. Because the reception here sucks. Thanks. Bye.”

She stubbornly shoved the phone back into her sweatshirt pocket, already dreading the seven minute trek back to the cabin. But the emptiness threatening to worsen in her stomach was as much motivation as she needed to trudge forward. Her mind wandered back to the groceries she’d picked up in one of the surrounding towns’ grocery stores before coming out to the cabin and began to think about just what she could make out of them. Her stomach grumbled, and when it did she immediately made her decision.

She was thinking pancakes.

---

“I was kind of hoping you’d be gone by the time I got back.”

Sidney wasn’t even allowed the luxury of hearing the door open before his unwanted guest made her presence known. He expertly flipped the pancake over in its pan before addressing her. “What a coincidence,” he said with feigned optimism. “So was I.”

She ignored his comment and took a seat at the kitchen’s tiny peninsula. “I see you’ve made yourself useful.”

Something about the tone in her voice struck a bad chord with Sidney.; he wasn’t used to people treating him with such disrespect. “Well,” he reasoned, trying to match her tone, “the food certainly wasn’t going to cook itself.”

Once again, the girl ignored his comment. “I just got back from calling the cabin’s renter,” she declared.

“And?”

“She didn’t pick up so I left a message. I’m counting down the seconds until she calls back and I can get you out of my hair.”

“Oh yeah?” Sid challenged, “How long’s it been?”

She grimaced. “I lost count at one hundred-eighty.”

“Can’t count much higher, huh?” Sidney quipped before he could stop himself, ready to duck out of the way of her swiping hand when it struck. Instead, she just narrowed her gaze. Before he could feel too bad about the snarky remark, he made up for it by sliding the first pancake onto a plate and setting it in front of her.

“Wow! For me?” gasped sarcastically, plucking a fork and knife from the basket on the counter. “Gee, thanks. I’m not sure how I can repay you-”

“How about by shutting up?” he retaliated almost reflexively, sliding the second pancake onto his own plate before facing the difficult challenge of choosing the seat next to her over the floor.

“You’re a real gentleman,” she deadpanned around a bite of pancake. She speared her next bite with a fork, but hesitated bringing it to her mouth. “I’m Nora, by the way.”

Sidney was struck by the immediate genuineness in her voice. No sarcasm. No insult intended. He cleared his throat, which had been partially crowded by chewed-up pancake. “Sidney,” he introduced.

“Crosby. Right.”

He about coughed up the pancake he’d worked hard to swallow at that. A million questions raced through his mind at once, but he was able to grasp onto just one. “How did you-?”

She snorted. “I don’t exactly live under a rock,” she countered, letting her gaze meet his for the first time that day.

The gesture was simple, yet held a great impact on Sidney. Up until then, he had only been able to think mean thoughts about this girl, even despite accidentally seeing her in the nude. But as he held her gaze, he formulated his first compliment towards her - she had great eyes. Ocean blue. Or maybe a steel grey. Something in between, he decided as he cleared his throat and snapped back to his old self. “Right,” he repeated, tearing his eyes from hers.

They ate the rest of their breakfast in a tense silence. Though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, there was something very uncomfortable about eating a meal alongside a complete stranger. What made it worse was that she at least had an overall idea of who he was. His knowledge of her?

Nada.

She was the first to finish her pancake. He silently observed her as she moved around the cabin, if anything for the reason that he had nothing else to pay attention to. She disappeared into the bathroom sometime during his last few bites and didn’t emerge until he’d washed the majority of the dishes.

He took a break from the soapy water to witness the noticeable change she had gone under during her time in the bathroom. The slightly repulsing oversize-sweatshirt-and-ill-fitting-pants combination had been replaced by a pair of dark-washed jeans and a plain white tee. She had pulled her not-quite-blonde yet not-quite-brown hair back into a single braid that reached about mid-back and had applied a minuscule amount of makeup. Just enough to compliment her eyes, he noticed in spite of himself.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his manhood beginning to feel out of place as he began drying the dishes.

“Out,” she declared, lacing up a pair of hiking shoes that appeared to be somewhat new and slipping on a black Columbia jacket. “I didn’t know I had to run my plans by you first.”

And just like that, their I-can’t-stand-you attitudes returned with a vengeance. “You don’t,” he remarked. “I was just trying to figure out how much time I‘ll actually be able to enjoy today.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed her keys from the counter. “I’ll be sure to take my time,” she assured him, making a point to meet his eyes once more before she reached for the door. “Thanks for the pancakes,” she added as she crossed the threshold and pulled the door shut behind her.

He wasn’t sure if he had detected sarcasm in those last few words or not. “You’re welcome,” he said to her departure, rubbing at his chin as he watched his co-vacationer head for her car and map her way to God knows where.

Exhaling, he turned back to the sink and grabbed another dish. Because, even though he was on vacation and was finally, finally alone, there was work to be done.