Who Wouldn't Want To Be Me

I’d had more difficulty packing my bags from place to place; between New Jersey and Buffalo more of the guys had found birthday gifts for me, and I was having issues fitting it all in my bag. A couple of silly shirts, a second dog-tag necklace; one with a Pens logo and my number on the back, that I now wore along with the one my dad gave me, a coffee mug, and a few books and CD’s.

“Nervous?” Jordan asked, and I nodded. Our game against the Flyers was tonight, and I wasn’t looking forward to standing across from Max Talbot on the ice.

“I’ll keep an eye out for you, all right? I got your back,” he reminded me.

“And who’d be stupid enough to mess with you?” I chuckled, making him re-adjust the collar on his dress shirt proudly.

“Exactly. So don’t worry; go out there tonight and kick some fucking ass bro,” he sent me a big grin, making me laugh. How Jordan could pretend to be so cocky sometimes I’d never know, it wasn’t really who he was at all. Sometimes I was sure it was just because he was nervous, and other times because it’s what he thought people expected him to be like. Whenever girls were all over him this cocky persona came out, and while they all swooned over him it pissed me off. They didn’t know Jordan, how could they say he was this and that if they didn’t know who he was? That he was incredibly funny, that he was loyal to the end for his friends, and that he’d die trying to accomplish his goals, along with the fact he was stubborn as a mule.

“Cam? Dude, are you in there?” he snapped his fingers in front of my face, and I realized I’d zoned out.

“Shit, sorry, what’d you say?” I asked, and he laughed.

“I asked if you wanted to go chill out with Marc, TK, Tanger and Sid,”

“Sure, sound good,” I agreed, grabbing my room key and following him down the hall to TK and Tanger’s room. They were all playing Call of Duty, and I sat down on the bed to watch while we all visited. I knew that they were wondering if I was okay, but I couldn’t seem to get out of my own head and pay attention to what was going on in the room.

“Cam? Cam?” my eyes snapped open and I jumped, looking up to see Marc, Sid, Jordan, TK and Tanger standing over me.

“What? What?” I asked, and they all looked relieved.

“You were tossing and turning and mumbling in your sleep; we were getting a little worried about you,” Sid admitted, and I felt my face heat up. So not only was I falling asleep on them I was mumbling too, and I had no doubt what I had been mumbling about either; I could only hope it hadn’t made enough sense for any of them to catch on.

“O-oh, shit, sorry guys. I didn’t even know I was tired,” I stuttered, not knowing what to say.

“It’s okay; road trips take a lot out of a guy,” TK assured me, as did the rest of the guys.

“Well, I’m gonna go take a nap; it’s one-thirty,” Sid announced after they’d all made sure I was ‘okay’.

“Me too,” Marc yawned, and Jordan and I went to leave. We walked to our hotel room where I collapsed on my bed again, still feeling exhausted after my rest.

“You feeling all right? Maybe you’re getting sick,” Jordan said, sticking his palm to my forehead. I shook him off, laughing at his attempt to ‘mother’ me and make sure I was okay.

“Yeah, I’m fine; just tired. Like Sid said, road trips take a lot out of me,” I assured him, taking my shoes off and crawling under the covers.

“If you’re sure,” he warily agreed, pulling the curtain in the room so we could fall asleep and setting his phone alarm for three thirty. It only took a few minutes for me to fall asleep.

“Ready to go?” I nodded, not looking up from the floor as I continued trying to hold my composure, taking deep breaths and trying to visualize the game going insanely well for us.

“Atta boy Bates; ready to score some goals?” Sid asked, and I shrugged. I was pretty positive that Max was going to make this game as hellish for me as was physically possible.

“Course he is,” Jordan answered for me, making all of the guys holler and cheer before Dan came in.

“Sid, Duper, Neal, you guys are our starting line; Geno, Staalsy and Cam, you’re our second line. Are you guys ready to destroy Philly?” he asked, and we all replied with a loud “yes!” before we grabbed our helmets and made our way out to the tunnel and onto the ice.

As we skated a few laps of our end to warm up Philly was doing the same, and already the beaks were being traded across the rink. There was even more animosity between the two teams than usual, as ‘one of our own’ was now our opponent.

“Ready to get your ass handed to you shrimp?” I turned to see Max’s cold sneer facing me, and decided he wasn’t worth replying to.

“That’s what I thought,” he called after me, and Matty chirped something at him, while I decided to just ignore the both of them and make my way over to the bench.

“Don’t let him get under your skin,” Brent suggested from where he sat, down the bench from me.

“I’m trying not to,” I sighed, and when Jordan sat down beside me felt him elbow me playfully.

“Remember what I said, I mean it. If you keep making him mad it gives me an excuse to kick his ass,” he grinned, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Trust Jordan to find it a good thing to have to beat someone up.

“Whatever you say Gronk,”