The More Boys I Meet

I actually got to watch the game that night against the Penguins. I got all nice and comfortable on the futon, complete with my books and homework to do in between periods. I had a yogurt next to me that I was munching on every so often as dinner, because really? What college kid needed a well balanced meal? Not this girl.

My phone buzzed with a new text and I saw it was from Patrick. I laughed at his text and wished him and the boys good luck against the Pens.

Rachel walked in from her evening class and started to change. “Where are you going Ms. Social Life?” I snickered playfully.

She turned around and stuck out her tongue. “I have a study date in the library in ten minutes and I have no idea what to wear,” she started throwing clothes all over the place, mostly at me.

“With whom?” I asked, taking another spoonful of dinner.

She turned around, grinning. “Caleb!” she squealed.

“What?! No way?! Jesus Rach! You guys can have little babies that pop out with glasses and know stuff!”

She threw another shirt at me. “Can it No Life Ellie. Don’t your boys come on soon?”

“Mhm, like five minutes from now. Make that four and a half,” I checked my phone.

She laughed, pulling on her favorite black sweater. “Yeah? No?”

“How are you doing your hair?” I asked.

“Nothing. I have to leave!” she swore to herself and packed some random books in her bag. “Do I need anything else?” she asked me.

“Dinner in the fridge that was leftover from last night?” I asked, gesturing towards our mini fridge.

“Damn, what was dinner?” she asked, pulling out a wrapped half of a turkey sandwich. “Oh! Yeah! Hey, you actually want a real dinner?” she tossed me the sandwich. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. . .” she blushed.

I stood up so fast, I almost got dizzy. “No. Effin. Way. This is so not the first study date!”

She only blushed harder.

“Caleb likes you!” I sang. “He wants to kiss you!”

“Oh shut up! The Hawks are on! Don’t wait up for me!” she called, already running out the door.

I laughed and fell back with my real dinner and my boys. That was my life basically. And at that moment, I didn’t have too many regrets.

I was throwing my trash out when I heard the announcers yell at the hit. I raced back to see what could have possibly happened in the two seconds I was up for. I expected to see a replay. Instead I got a television screen full of John Scott beating the living shit out a Pens player. “Who in the hell was hit?” I searched my screen high and low for a guy on the ice. No one was. “Replaayyy!” I yelled at the announcers.

And they granted my wish. “WHAT THE. . . !” I didn’t bother finishing my sentence as I was already diving for my phone, fingers flying across the key pad, texting Vik, Pat, and Marcus.

It wasn’t until the first intermission that I got my answer. None from Marcus. Pat said he looked the same. Viktor said it was too soon to tell anything.

I sat in disbelief watching the replays of Marcus Kruger being slammed, head first into the boards by a Pens player during the first intermission.

I saw him on the bench in the second, so I wasn’t too worried, but somewhere during the second, Eddie O announced that Marcus Kruger was no longer on the Blackhawk bench.

Well there goes my motivation to do homework. I pushed my stuff aside and waited. Because that was the kind of person I was. A waiting kind of person.

I turned up the volume on Coach Q’s press release after the loss to the Penguins. He said that “he had to call him a few times and he just didn’t get back out there.”

I couldn’t call them yet. They would be on the plane back home by now. And so what did I do? I freaking goddamn waited. I would wait all night if I had to. Someone messes with my boys? I will raise hell.

So while I waited, I finished all of my paper, readings, and homework due for the entire week. It was a long time to wait.

It was nearing two in the morning when Viktor called me. “Yeah?” I answered, sending in Lab four via email.

“You’re still up?” he sounded surprised. “I was just going to leave a voice mail or something. Kaner’s phone is dead.”

“I’m just turning in some stuff. Oh by the way, I’m coming home this weekend, just FYI.”

“So all it takes to get you home for a weekend is an injury? I’ll have to remember that,” he joked.

“Seriously, what happened out there?” I asked. “I saw the hit! He got his skinny white ass right back up! Looked like always! No friggin emotion! Just kinda a blank stare, you know? You know, he doesn’t even look happy when he scores! Jesus, everyone looks happy when they score!” I waved my arms around dramatically, even though he couldn’t see it.

“Have some Coffee Ells?” he chuckled.

I paused, looking at the two cups I grabbed before closing time. “Now that I work at a coffee shop it tastes much more appealing than before.”

“Great,” he sighed. “Ellie on coffee. Cause the world needs that crisis too.”

“I know, right? Okay. So I am going to go. Go study for a test on Thursday. I will see you or some other form of a hockey player on Friday at two. Yeah? Yeah.”

“Sleep Ellie. Your body needs it or else you will die,” he looked at me.

“I can always sleep later,” I told him.

I heard the palm smack against his forehead. “Jesus Ells, you told me those statistics!”

“Did I? No recollection.”

“Liar,” he muttered.

“Bye Viktor. I will see you Friday because I know Pat will make you do it, since he hates road trips and you seem to love them.”

“Only cause I get to see my favorite little brat because she might keel over soon from exhaustion.”

“Love you too sweetheart,” I rolled my eyes and hung up. I was moving towards my textbook when my eyes got very heavy and the bed very comfy.

I could always study tomorrow.