Circle the Drain

"Papa, je vais bien. Je vis à Chicago, avec mon copain." (Dad, I'm fine. I'm living in Chicago, with my boyfriend.) I was not expecting my father to call right now. Sure, he checked up on me every so often but when I left home at 18, I ran and never looked back. I felt guilty about lying, but not guilty enough to not lie.

"Tu me manques, ma chérie. Pouvez-vous s'il vous plaît revenir à la maison pour Noël? Je peux payer pour vous." (I miss you, sweetheart. Can you come home for Christmas? I can pay for you.) I hated hearing the desperation in his voice. I loved my dad and my brother. I just couldn't go home. I couldn't get caught in my lie and sure as hell did NOT want to see my mother.

"Papa ... S'il vous plaît. Tu sais que je ne veux pas rentrer à la maison. Je vais bien ici par moi-même." (Dad... Please. You know I don't want to come home. I'm doing fine here by myself.) I rolled my eyes as the lies slipped so easily off my tongue. I heard him release a shuddering breath.

"Rester en sécurité. Je tiens à répondre que le petit ami de la vôtre. Il ferait mieux de se traiter ma droite petite fille." (Stay safe. I want to meet that boyfriend of yours. He better be treating my little girl right.) I squeezed my eyes shut. I was quiet for a few moments as I rummaged through my suit case.

"Il est bon pour moi, papa. Je dois y aller. Je t'aime." (He is good to me, dad. I have to go. I love you.) My voice cracked as I lied about Patrick. I hated lying to my father.

He sighed. "Je t'aime." I hung up the phone and tossed it on the dirty hotel room bed. I wanted nothing more than to crawl back to Chicago and make Patrick into the same man I fell in love with.

Oh, shut the fuck up, I scolded myself. You are a strong, independent woman who doesn't need him holding you back. I was looking into the mirror while giving myself this pathetic pep talk. I'm already going bat shit crazy.

Pat had called another 46 times since the bar yesterday. He left voicemail after voicemail, which I had been stupid enough to listen to. I was only torturing myself.

I was regretting leaving on a whim now, not really having that many clothes with me. I continued to rip through my bag until I found a nice pair of jeans and a cute top.

After changing, I made my way over to the new bar I got a job at. I blasted Oasis in the car and I instantly thought of Max. I started smiling before I knew it. I had no idea if I was kind of hung up on him because he was the first person to make me laugh after leaving Patrick or what. All I know is that he did make me laugh and made me feel all giddy inside, just like Patrick used to. I really need to stop thinking about Patrick Kane before he drives me crazy.

Max's POV:

"Hey! Douche! Pass the God damn puck!" I was snapped out of my thoughts by my best friends voice. Shit, I needed to focus. I quickly passed the puck to Sidney, who was across the ice, not saying anything. He gave me a weird look as he rused in and was shot down by Marc-Andre, one of my favorite people on the team.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, man?" Marc-Andre spoke as I tipped my head back, getting a drink of water. "I know it's not a chic, cuz you're too good to actually like them so--" I cut him off.

"Nah, I met this girl last night and--" It was his turn to interrupt.

"Woaaaah, woah, woah, back the fuck up. You, Maxime Talbot, are fixated on a girl? As in one?" He burst out laughing and I threw the water bottle at him.

"Asshole. You would be too, if you met her." I informed him and he shook his head, still smiling.

"Nah, I got Vero. So what's her name? You got the digits?" I could tell he missed the bachelor life but I knew how much he loved Veronique. Everyone did.

"I have no idea." I stated simply and he gave me a look.

"You don't know?" He asked and I confirmed by nodding. "So you're fucking up the practice, thinking about some chick, that you don't even know her name? She must be sexy as all hell then."

"She is. But she was so easy to talk to and seemed so smart and witty... She didn't take my usual shit either. She up and walked away." I shook my head at the memory. I wasn't used to being shut down. Sure, it hurt my ego a little bit but I recovered quickly.

"Flower! Get back in the net! Max, get on the bench and try not to fuck up the drill next time." Dan barked out and I obeyed. I took a seat on the bench, thoughts of Raven in my head. That was my name for her, because of her long, black mane.

"Max! Get on the ice! Now!" Coach yelled again and I jumped up quickly and hopped over the boards. I got distracted by the gold-ish color on Kris' practice jersey. It was the same color of her eyes. I forgot to swing my left leg over and fell onto the ice. I groaned and just laid on my back, not hurt, just distracted. That girl was going to be the death of me and I didn't even know her name.