Secretly
One
“Dude,” Jonathan Toews said to his best friend as they both stepped onto the elevator. “What gives?”
They had both driven to Patrick’s apartment after practice and Jon had entered the garage first. Jon had turned his signal on, about to park, when his friend Patrick Kane zoomed ahead of him and took his spot.
“No one uses their turn signal anymore,” Patrick responded good-naturedly, giving Jon a lopsided grin as he pressed the number 90.
Jon just shook his head.
“Hold the door!” a voice called out as the sliding doors started to close. Patrick stuck a hand out and the doors opened. A girl carrying a medium sized cardboard box entered, smiling gratefully at them.
“Thanks,” she said, stepping in and turning to face the doors as Jon and Patrick backed up further.
The three occupants of the elevator formed a triangle, which allowed Patrick a great view of the girl’s backside. He eyed her appreciatively, from the dark messy bun atop her head, to her oversized flannel shirt, and down to her denim cutoffs, which exposed lots of long, lean leg.
“Dude!” Jon hissed, smacking Patrick on his arm. Hard.
“Ow,” Patrick frowned, rubbing his arm, which Jon knew was sore from practice.
Patrick gave Jon his usual You’re-No-Fun look.
The girl didn’t seem to notice their exchange, and instead glanced down at the buttons on the right side of the elevator. Patrick noticed that she didn’t press any other button when she saw that the number 90 was glowing.
Which means, he thought with a smile. We’re heading to the same floor.
The doors slid opened and the girl turned right. Patrick looked at Jonathan, raising his eyebrows suggestively as they followed the girl.
Jon just rolled his eyes.
“Practice wasn’t too hard today, was it?” Jon asked as they made their way down the hall.
“Nope,” Patrick answered noncommittally. He wasn’t paying attention to his friend and teammate. He
was watching the slight sway of the girl’s hips as she walked ahead of them.
“I’m pumped for tomorrow’s game,” Jon tried again.
“Yup,” Patrick said, still watching the girl. He liked the way she walked, straight and tall, like a supermodel.
“I’m adopting a parrot,” Jon tested.
“Sure thing.” Patrick mumbled. She looked like a supermodel.
The girl finally stopped in front of 90B, the apartment that once belong to Jan and Frank Perkins. Frank was cool, and Patrick had had a beer with him now and then. But Jan hated his guts, and wasn’t too fond of the all noise that came from his apartment. He was sad to see Frank go, but Jan was another story.
The girl must have been the new tenant, and Patrick couldn’t have been happier. He was sure that this girl, unlike Jan Perkins, would want to partake in whatever noise making he planned on doing in the future.
They had both driven to Patrick’s apartment after practice and Jon had entered the garage first. Jon had turned his signal on, about to park, when his friend Patrick Kane zoomed ahead of him and took his spot.
“No one uses their turn signal anymore,” Patrick responded good-naturedly, giving Jon a lopsided grin as he pressed the number 90.
Jon just shook his head.
“Hold the door!” a voice called out as the sliding doors started to close. Patrick stuck a hand out and the doors opened. A girl carrying a medium sized cardboard box entered, smiling gratefully at them.
“Thanks,” she said, stepping in and turning to face the doors as Jon and Patrick backed up further.
The three occupants of the elevator formed a triangle, which allowed Patrick a great view of the girl’s backside. He eyed her appreciatively, from the dark messy bun atop her head, to her oversized flannel shirt, and down to her denim cutoffs, which exposed lots of long, lean leg.
“Dude!” Jon hissed, smacking Patrick on his arm. Hard.
“Ow,” Patrick frowned, rubbing his arm, which Jon knew was sore from practice.
Patrick gave Jon his usual You’re-No-Fun look.
The girl didn’t seem to notice their exchange, and instead glanced down at the buttons on the right side of the elevator. Patrick noticed that she didn’t press any other button when she saw that the number 90 was glowing.
Which means, he thought with a smile. We’re heading to the same floor.
The doors slid opened and the girl turned right. Patrick looked at Jonathan, raising his eyebrows suggestively as they followed the girl.
Jon just rolled his eyes.
“Practice wasn’t too hard today, was it?” Jon asked as they made their way down the hall.
“Nope,” Patrick answered noncommittally. He wasn’t paying attention to his friend and teammate. He
was watching the slight sway of the girl’s hips as she walked ahead of them.
“I’m pumped for tomorrow’s game,” Jon tried again.
“Yup,” Patrick said, still watching the girl. He liked the way she walked, straight and tall, like a supermodel.
“I’m adopting a parrot,” Jon tested.
“Sure thing.” Patrick mumbled. She looked like a supermodel.
The girl finally stopped in front of 90B, the apartment that once belong to Jan and Frank Perkins. Frank was cool, and Patrick had had a beer with him now and then. But Jan hated his guts, and wasn’t too fond of the all noise that came from his apartment. He was sad to see Frank go, but Jan was another story.
The girl must have been the new tenant, and Patrick couldn’t have been happier. He was sure that this girl, unlike Jan Perkins, would want to partake in whatever noise making he planned on doing in the future.
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First fanfic! Comments would be appreciated. :)