Who Wouldn't Want To Be Me

—Jordan’s POV—

The last couple of weeks had been hell for me; I couldn’t seem to go anywhere or do anything without thinking of Cam. The way he hadn’t been himself at the rink, hadn’t been a hundred percent into practices the past couple days, and it hurt to see him like that. I knew that it was probably my fault too; I’d been going out of my way to avoid him. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to him, I really, really did, but I just couldn’t handle it right now. Not without feeling like some stupid, hormonal teenaged girl who was going to start to bawl. I shouldn’t have been surprised at the way he’d reacted; hell, if TK had come up to me and said that he didn’t know why but he’d had feelings for me and didn’t care if that made him gay I would’ve panicked too. I was still panicking, but I didn’t know what else to do; Cam means the world to me, and I couldn’t ignore the way I was feeling now that I knew what it was.

We’d just finished up practice, and again Cam had seemed to drag his feet, so much so that even Dan had noticed. He was getting worried, afraid that Cam really hadn’t been ready to handle the wear and tear of the NHL this early. I’d defended him, saying that he was going through some rough personal stuff that was wearing down on him, but I failed to mention that I was more than likely the cause.

What made it all worse was that the one person who I needed to talk to and who would make me feel better was the one I was trying to avoid.

Everybody knew something was wrong; neither of us had been on our game since it happened. We were playing sloppier; dropping passes, and we weren’t just feeling where each other were anymore. We couldn’t even be in a room together for more than a few minutes without being awkward and needing a way out.

“Hey, do you wanna do something tonight?” TK asked, coming and sitting down beside me. I shrugged, not really in the mood to do anything but sit my ass on my couch, have a couple beer, or a lot of beer, and feel miserable.

“Come on Staalsy, you haven’t come out in forever,” Kris pushed, and finally I caved, agreeing to go out with them to Diesel. Maybe it was what I needed; something to take my mind off of Cam.

I stayed at the rink longer than usual, and when I got out to the parking lot found out I was the only person who hadn’t left yet. I went home, and made myself a sandwich before deciding to take a long hot shower. I almost thought I heard someone ring the bell, but I wasn’t expecting anybody over so didn’t make an effort to hurry out of the shower or anything. I changed my clothes and waited for TK to drive over to get me.

I ended up nodding off, and woke up when someone knocked on the door. I stretched, letting out a yawn before getting up and answering, finding TK and Tanger standing there waiting for me. They both looked excited and ready to go, but I found myself dragging my feet even more and looking less forward to it the closer we got to the club. As TK parked I could hear the loud music pounding out of the doors, and felt the start of a headache behind my eyes.

There was no hesitation for us being ushered inside and into the sky box, where the Pens always got seated. Usually being above everything and being able to watch the dance floor and all of the people enjoying themselves while the lights flashed and the music made everything seem to pulse was my kind of thing. Usually I lived for this sort of thing, but tonight it was making me feel sick. All I wanted to do was pound back some liquor and hole myself up in my room.

“Come on, you need to lighten up and have some fun, maybe even find yourself a girl,” Tanger laughed, nearly yelling over the music. That was the last straw for me, I downed my drink in one swallow and stood up, deciding I’d take a cab or something to get home.

“Whoa, Gronk, where are you going?” he asked, looking around like he didn’t know what was going on.

“I’m going home,” I told him, as if it weren’t obvious enough.

“Aw, Come on man, what’s crawled up your ass and died?” he complained.

“I’m just not feeling it, all right? Just drop it; I’m heading home,” I told them, pulling out my phone. I was going to call a cab but then Sidney texted me, wanting to know how the club was. I replied that I was done and ready to go home, not feeling well, and he offered to pick me up. I made my way downstairs, dodging a few puck-bunnies and fans on my way, the strobe lights making everything look like it was happening in slow motion. I just wanted to be at home, or maybe at Cam and Becka’s… shit just anywhere but here right now.

Sid texted me when he was outside, so I bolted out the door and easily found the familiar Land Rover that he liked to drive so much.

“Thanks a million Sid,” I sighed as soon as I had my seatbelt on and he pulled away and left the long and loud lineup that was outside of the club. It only took about five minutes for us to reach the quieter, more suburban areas and although I was rubbing my temples my headache wasn’t getting any better.

“What’s up Staalsy? You not wanting to go out?” he asked, and I let out another sigh. I wasn’t ready to tell anybody about what was going on, even Sid.

“Just not feeling up to it, I guess,”

“That’s not right, something’s been bothering you or a couple of weeks. It’s not like it’s not obvious; you’ve been in a rut and acting like you’ve lost your best friend,” he said, and I winced at his blatant honesty.

“I did,”

“You—what?” he asked, even tapping the breaks in his surprise. He looked over at me, obviously waiting for an explanation.

“Cam… we can’t even spend any time together without getting frustrated or feeling weird. I miss it; he’s the person I want to talk to about it too,” I admitted, finally getting it off of my chest to someone. It was what I’d needed to do since that ‘incident’ had taken place, but I damned well couldn’t tell my parents or my brothers about it. Everybody in the locker room would feel awkward if they had any inkling of what had taken place, so I’d kept it all to myself.

“I’m sorry man. Have you tried talking to him about it? I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding,” a guy could always count on Sid to be diplomatic and clear-headed.

“No, it was pretty clear,” I shook my head, but the look he sent me had me second-guessing himself.

“You don’t know that, Jordan. I know how stubborn you are and how easily you can get offended. Just talk to him, it’s not gonna kill you. And even if it doesn’t, at least come to terms with each other so you can still work together at the rink,” he told me, and I nodded slowly as he pulled up outside of my building.

“I know, I know. I don’t think he’ll want to talk to me though,” I said, but the look Sid gave me said he knew otherwise.

“He’s just as miserable as you are Jordan; he misses you just as much as you miss him. It’s so fucking obvious it’s ridiculous,” a tiny grin found it’s way to my lips.

“Sure Sid, sure. Thanks again for coming to get me,”

“No problem, now get some sleep; I can smell the booze on you,” he smirked, and I gave him a half-assed wave as I got out of his vehicle and headed inside my apartment building. I’d have to get over myself and talk to Cam, before I lost all hopes of having my best friend back.