Shut Your Eyes

*Max POV*

I left the house before Maggie woke up.

It had been three long weeks since her night terrors started, and they’d yet to stop. Sometimes she woke herself up, other times all I could do was stand in her door and wait till it was over. They only lasted about ten or fifteen minutes, and there was only one a night. Every night. At first she was fine and would wake up the next morning full of energy, but after about a week the nightmares started to take their toll.

The girl who used to wake up at eight o’clock on the dot was now sleeping until ten or ten thirty. She’d actually managed to injure herself during one night, slamming her arm against the nightstand and leaving a nasty bruise on her skin. She was also starting to stay up later – making excuses to stay out of bed like a child would.

So when I’d gotten up for practice that morning, I left Maggie in bed to sleep as long as she could. It wasn’t one of her “running days” with Jordan, so there was nothing she needed to be awake for. I’d let her enjoy as much dreamless sleep as she could, because I knew it’d just start all over again the next night.

As for me, I was holding up as well as could be expected – but my constant yawning in the locker room as we got dressed for practice was causing the boys to look at me strangely.

“Didn’t you sleep last night, Talbo?” Marc asked from a few lockers down. On my left, Kris smiled and bumped me on the shoulder.

“He probably had a girl keeping him up all night, isn’t that right Max?” We all laughed, and I gave Kris a sly smile. I knew what he meant, but went along with it anyway. The statement itself was true enough.

“Not all night.” I conceded. Kris whistled while Marc shook his head with a smile.

“I don’t know what the problem is Sid, you’re acting like I escort her to orgies two times a week.” The three of us turned around and watched Jordan and Sid walk into the locker room. Sid was first, a frustrated expression on his face and hard amber eyes. Jordan followed after him wearing a similar look, and an exasperated tone. Geno followed after both of them looking quite annoyed with their conversation.

“What’s the problem, guys?” Kris asked calmly and was promptly ignored by both Captain Canada and the blonde giant as they stalked to their own lockers. Conveniently for their argument, their lockers were only feet away from each other. Geno wandered over to his locker by Marc, and set his stuff down.

Kris looked over to him and nodded a head in Sid and Jordan’s direction. “What crawled up their asses?”

Letting out a sigh, Geno pointed at Sid and began talking. “Sid is mad because Staalsy runs with Myshka all the time.” His large finger swung towards Jordan before he continued.

“Staalsy thinks Sid overreacts.” He made an explosion noise with his mouth and mimicked one with his hands.

I looked back over in the direction of Sid and Jordan, and watched as they bickered back and forth like an old married couple. Suddenly Jordan whipped his head in our direction and gestured towards Sidney with his arm.

“Max, can you please explain to Casanova over here that Maggie and I are just running partners?” Sid rolled his eyes.

I chuckled a little bit, still remembering the look on Sidney’s face when he found out about Jordan and Maggie’s new hobby. Although he and Maggie had gotten a little closer over the month she’d been in Pittsburgh, he’d never had the alone time that Jordan was now getting twice a week – every week; and now he was getting frustrated.

The first time Jordan told Sidney he was going running with Maggie after practice Sid’s eyes had nearly popped out of his head. Part of me understood why he was so bummed out about it; there was a good reason Jordan didn’t have friends that were girls. Usually once Jordan started hanging out with someone who lacked the Y chromosome it was only a matter of time before he slept with them.

“Jordan, he’s probably just worried because of what happened with your last running partner.” I reminded him with a grin, thinking of the blonde beauty that he’d “gotten to know” over many mornings spent running. It only lasted about two weeks before he’d slept with her and ‘lost’ her number. Hit it and quit it should have been tattooed on Jordan’s forehead.

“Hey! You leave her out of this!”

“She can stay out of it if you can tell us her name.” Kris countered with a pointed look.

Jordan opened his mouth to answer but no words came out. He stood there silent and pensive for a moment before muttering quietly to himself, “Sally…Sadie?”

“SOPHIE!” We all yelled back at him. He snapped his fingers together as he remembered.

“That’s it!” Staring back at him with unamused expressions on our faces, Jordan just rolled his eyes and began getting changing into his workout clothes. Today’s practice was optional, meaning a lot of the guys that showed up were here to exercise – Jordan obviously included. Stripping his shirt off, he turned back to Sid.

“Regardless. You’ve got to chill out, man. Just ask her out already.” The end of his sentence sounded a little whiny and made the rest of us laugh. Sid’s crush on Maggie was common knowledge in the locker room and provided a lot of fodder for teasing between the guys.

Suddenly I was struck with an idea to help Sid out a little bit. As Maggie’s brother, and a self-titled expert in these sorts of situations, I could throw him a bone. Not only would it give Sid a fighting chance, it would also give Maggie something to keep her mind off of her situation. I wandered over to his locker and threw an arm around his bare shoulder, bringing him close to my side.

“You want more alone time with Maggie?” I deadpanned. Sid nodded slowly, obviously confused as to why I was A: standing with him like we were in a bad 1930’s mob movie and B: offering up alone time with my little sister.

“Yeah…” He ventured, cutting his eyes towards me suspiciously.

“Go home and get into the clothes you wear when you’re sick – sweatshirt, shorts, the works. Scatter some stuff around the living room like you’ve been in there all morning and leave some medicine bottles out on the coffee table. After all that’s done, call me.” He stared at me like I’d just grown a second head.

“And why am I doing all this, exactly?”

I just smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder. “Do you trust me?”

He pursed his huge lips in thought for a moment before looking up at me slightly and shaking his head. “No.”

I laughed and slapped him on the shoulder again. “Well you’re going to have to. The less you know the better.” He still didn’t look convinced.

“Should I really be leaving practice?” He asked unsurely, glancing at his workout gear sitting in his locker.

“What does the word ‘optional’ mean to you, Sid?” He rolled his eyes.

“I’ve never missed practice.”

“Your girlfriend is well aware.” He looked at me with confusion written all over his face.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” Steering him towards the door, I handed him his things back.

“My point exactly. Now go do what I told you to.”

*Maggie POV*

I woke up to the sunlight shining in my eyes. The condo was completely quiet; in fact, the only sound I could hear was the soft hum of the heater pumping warm air into the room. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes as I contemplated getting out of bed. I felt like a caterpillar all wrapped up in a cocoon made of down comforter and pillows.

One look at the clock, though, made me realize I had to get up. It was ten thirty, meaning Max had probably just left for practice. He knew I wanted him to wake me up before he left, but he never did anymore – something about me needing my sleep, which is ridiculous because I get plenty of sleep.

Slowly stretching my arms over my head, I laid there for an extra moment and stared at the ceiling. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the glowing green light of the clock mocking me to get out of bed and make something of the day. I started making a list of things I could do to occupy my time until Max got home. I could edit the photos I’d recently taken of old buildings downtown; I could clean, although if I cleaned much more, I was going to scrub a hole in the counter. Then I remembered the gallons of eggshell white paint in the hall closet, just waiting to be used on the living room walls.

I willed myself out of bed and immediately wandered into the bathroom to take a shower. I didn’t take very long, not even bothering to wash my hair, just running a suds drenched loofah over my body a few times until I felt I smelled sufficiently like my favorite soap. After my shower, I threw on my painting clothes, as well as some leg warmers since the house was still a bit nippy.

I ate breakfast quickly, pouring a protein shake down my throat and munching on a handful of cherries from a bag in the fridge. I was eager to get started and after putting down the drop-cloth, I got right to work painting the wall that didn’t have any heavy furniture up against it.

The time ticked by slowly, minutes feeling like hours under the heavy silence of the condo. I was careful as I painted and tried to keep the paint off of the trim and off of the floor – even though there was a drop-cloth down. As I painted a smooth coating of ivory paint over the boring beige walls my phone began blaring from its spot on the kitchen counter. I already knew it was Max because it was playing Soul Man by The Blues Brothers – the ringtone he’d picked out for himself.

I put down my painting supplies and wandered into the kitchen before hopping up onto the counter and answering the phone with a lazy greeting. “Hé, Max.” (Hey, Max.)

“Maggie! Tu es réveillé, bonne.” (Maggie! You’re awake, good.) I smiled when I heard Max’s voice, he sounded upbeat and carefree – the Max everyone knew and loved. In the background I could hear other voices, most notably Marc’s and Geno’s, so I assumed Max was still hanging out in the locker room before practice.

“Oui, je suis éveillé. Tu n'es pas censé être dans la pratique en ce moment?” (Yes, I’m awake. Aren’t you supposed to be in practice right now?) I asked with a grin. Knowing Max, he was just stalling to get out of having to run on the treadmill.

“C'est une pratique facultative, je n'ai pas d'être ici. Si vous devez le savoir, je suis en attente de quelque chose d'autre qu'un tapis roulant pour être ouvert.” (It’s an optional practice; I don’t have to be here. If you must know, I’m waiting for something other than a treadmill to be opened.) He answered with a laugh.

I laughed along with him, but my curiosity got the best of me and I had to know why Max had called. “Avez-vous besoin de quelque chose, Max?” (Did you need something, Max?)

“Je fais, en fait. J'ai besoin de toi faire une faveur pour moi.” (I do, actually. I need you to do a favor for me.)

“Avez-vous laisser quelque chose à la maison?” (Did you leave something at the house?) I asked and gave the kitchen counter a quick scan for his keys or something else he might need.

“Pas exactement. J'ai besoin de toi pour prendre quelque chose à la maison de Sid.” (Not exactly. I need you to take something over to Sid’s house.) I furrowed my brows in confusion.

“Je ne comprends pas.” (I don’t understand.) I admitted slowly. “N'est-il pas à la pratique avec toi?” (Isn’t he at practice with you?)

“Non, il est malade à la maison. Il voulait venir à la pratique, mais Dan ne serait pas le laisser faire.” (No, he’s sick at home. He wanted to come to practice, but Dan wouldn’t let him.) A soft smile broke onto my lips. That sounded like Sidney alright. If there was one thing I’d learned about Sidney Crosby, it was that he loved his job, and devoted every fiber of his being to hockey. It was an admirable quality to be sure, and it was one that I found quite endearing.

“Eh bien, qu'est-ce qu'il a?” (Well, what does he have?) I asked cautiously. The last thing I wanted was to catch the flu, or worse, a nasty stomach virus.

“L'intoxication alimentaire.” (Food poisoning.)

I cringed. I’d had food poisoning before from a sketchy looking seafood restaurant that Max had dragged me, Will, and Franck to on a trip to Le Moyne a few years back. The next two days were spent lying face down on the cold tile floor of my parent’s guest bathroom. “Cela est terrible.” (That’s terrible.)

“Ouais. Quoi qu'il en soit, il ya un DVD de mes qu'il a eu envie de voir et j'ai pensé qu'il serait lui donner quelque chose à faire alors qu'il est coincé à la maison.” (Yeah. Anyway, there’s a DVD of mine that he wanted to see and I figured it would give him something to do while he’s stuck at home.)

“C'est très gentil de ta part, Max.” (That’s very sweet of you, Max.) I said with a smile. Underneath all his hockey gear and womanizing ways, Max had a heart of gold – even if he didn’t want people to know about it.

He scoffed, and I could almost hear his eyes rolling. “Ouais, ouais, ouais. Écoutez, c'est le Guy Lafleur DVD dans le boîtier du téléviseur. Est-ce que tu as son adresse?” (Yeah, yeah, yeah. Listen, it’s the Guy Lafleur DVD in the TV cabinet. Do you have his address?)

“Ouais, je me souviens comment y arriver.” (Yeah, I remember how to get there.)

“Très bien. Merci pour l'amener à lui pour moi.” (Alright. Thanks for bringing it to him for me.)

“De rien.” (It’s nothing.) I answered with a smile as I walked over to the cabinet to pull the movie out.

“Comment a ta matinée jusqu'à présent?” (How’s your morning been so far?) He asked and I sighed contentedly.

“Paisible. Je peignais le salon quand tu as appelé.” (Peaceful. I was painting the living room when you called.) He chuckled.

“Bon. Cette pièce besoin de ton contact.” (Good. That room needs your touch.)

In the background I heard someone yell Max’s name. He told them to hold on for a second before returning back to our phone call. “C'est mon repère. Je dois y aller, mais je vais t'appellerai quand je suis sur mon chemin du retour.” (That’s my cue. I’ve gotta go, but I’ll call you when I’m on my way home.)

“Très bien. Avoir une bon exercice.” (Alright. Have a good workout.) I instructed as I closed up the paint can and started putting away my supplies.

“Je le ferai. Je t'aime, Maggie.” (I will. I love you, Maggie.)

With a smile, I walked through the hallway to my bedroom so I could change my clothes and be on my way. “Je t'aime trop, Max.” (I love you too, Max.)