Perfect Symmetry

Jazz’s perspective

When Thursday came around, it didn’t really strike me as a national holiday, but I was grateful for the day off work. Hailey went home to her parents in Springfield, and she invited me to join her, but I decided to stay home instead. I called my parents in the afternoon, and I spoke to my mom for a few minutes, but she was hosting a neighborhood Thanksgiving party, and couldn’t talk for long.

Hailey left me a few messages, but she wasn’t the one I wanted to hear from. I kept waiting to hear from Jon, but there was no call or text. When the phone rang again at around five, I raced to the phone.

“Hello?” I was breathing heavily, having raced to the phone from the bathroom.

“Hey, Jazz!” Pat’s exuberant voice reached my ears.

I rolled my eyes and sunk onto the floor in defeat. “Hi Pat. What’s up?”

“Aw, not much. You know, it’s Thanksgiving,” he offered helpfully.

“Yes, I’m aware,” I replied acidly.

I heard some muffled voices before Kane came back on the line.

“I heard about what happened with Tazer,” he admitted.

I sighed. “Look, he’s the one being stupid. If you’re going to give anyone the lecture, it should be him.”

Pat laughed quietly. “Do you want to come over?”

“You act like I don’t have anywhere else to go,” I huffed.

“Do you have somewhere else to go?” he asked out of kindness.

I sniffed. “Not the point. Anyway, I don’t want to intrude, you probably have family over and stuff.”

“Nope, the family’s back in Buffalo. I told them I’d head up there for Christmas this year instead,” Pat explained.

“Well I can definitely hear people in the background,” I remarked in suspicion.

He chuckled. “Gee, detective, nothing gets past you.”

“What can I say, I have highly trained senses,” I joked.

“It’s just some of the guys – Stally, Keith, Hjalmarsson, and it looks like Seabs just showed up,” Pat’s voice grew distant as he greeted his teammate jovially.

“All the single boys, huh?” I teased with a smile.

“We can make it the singles club! Come join us,” he coaxed, “we’re not doing much; just beer and video games. Possibly some Star Wars action later on.”

“I dunno, Pat...” I trailed off, looking at the comforting bed that was just asked for me to fall asleep in it.

“Aw come on, Jazz. It’s just a little get together. Jon won’t be here,” he added enticingly.

All right, that settles it. “You had me at Star Wars,” I admitted.

Pat texted me his address and told me to tell the doorman my name and then to just come on up to his apartment.

I drove to the complex and parked my car just around the corner from the entrance. I practically ran over to the door, since it was pretty much freezing outside and I was wearing a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt. The doorman was a large, bald man who eyed me with suspicion as I stood there in my ridiculously cold outfit, shivering my ass off. When I gave him my name, the thankfully opened the door for me, and gestured toward the elevator and gave me quick directions. I nodded gratefully and hurried inside.

The rush of warm air that greeted me was much needed, and I hopped up and down in the elevator, partly to get the circulation going and partly to calm the nerves that were building up in my chest.

I knocked on the door marked 1985, and waited. I could hear cheers and laughter from inside. I fiddled with my hair nervously. I probably looked horrible. Pat answered the door with a smile on his face.

“Jazz! You came,” he greeted me cheerfully.

I raised my eyebrows. “You didn’t think I would?”

“I had my doubts,” he grinned, “come in; we’re just about to watch some TV.”

Pat’s apartment was nice. It was big, open, airy, and a bit messy, but generally nice. The living room was packed with big hockey players. They all turned around when I entered the room.

“Hey, everyone,” I smiled nervously, sticking close to Pat.

I looked around, trying to identify everyone without the jerseys on. Niklas Hjalmarsson and what looked like Brent Seabrook were sitting on the sofa, near a pair of discarded video game controllers. Duncan Keith was stretched out on a barcalounger, eating from a bag of chips, and then I saw Stalberg, sitting lazily on the floor.

“Go on in; do you want a beer?” Kaner asked me as he headed for the kitchen.

“Yes please!” I called back, walking over and plopping down on the floor next to Viktor.

He smiled at me when I arrived. “Hey, how are you?”

I sighed heavily. “I’m okay. I’m missing my family, I guess. I like being with people at this time of year.”

Viktor put his arm around me and I blushed. I could feel the muscles through his thin shirt and it fit snugly around my shoulders.

“I know how you feel,” he said simply.

Seabrook kicked me from the sofa. I turned to look at him questioningly, and Viktor’s grip on my shoulders slackened.

“Yes, Brent?” I asked him

“Why aren’t you hanging out with Tazer?” he queried lazily, leaning back on his seat.

My cheeks burned. “Why do you ask?”

“I dunno, the two of you seemed pretty joined at the hip for the past couple of weeks. Tazer wouldn’t shut up about you in the locker room,” Seabrook seemed to be studying my face for a reaction.

Recognizing this, I kept my expression brightly neutral. On the inside, however, my heart was pounding and I was screaming in my head. was that true? Did he really talk about me to-NO stop. He’s being an asshole, remember?

“I haven’t seen him since Sunday,” I replied coolly.

Just as Brent opened his mouth again, Pat re-entered the room with drinks for everyone. We all sipped our beer and then Pat wanted to watch a movie. Keith suggested Star Wars, which everyone was in favor for. The question was, where to start?

“Episode I,” Seabrook said definitively.

“Episode IV,” Keith argued.

“Are you serious, Keith? They numbered them for a reason,” Niklas rolled his eyes.

Duncan groaned. “They made them in a specific order for a reason, douche.”

I laughed. “I think we should watch them from Episode I so that the best one comes last.”

“But we’re never going to get through them all,” Viktor reminded me.

“Okay!” Pat cried out. “We’ll just watch the last three. Those are the only good ones anyway.”

Once we settled on that, we settled down to watch A New Hope. Pat sat above me on the sofa and dangled his legs in my face, which I tried fruitlessly to avoid and shove off. Niklas was sprawled out on the floor near me now, and Viktor took his spot on the sofa. Keith bagged the lounger and the TV remote, giving him full power of the volume and pause button. He liked to raise the volume anytime Darth Vader and the Storm Troopers were in shot, and paused it just as a very important event or phrase approached.

When he did this, we all yelled at him, and one of the boys, usually Pat, tried to take the remote from him, which never worked. Duncan held off on his power as we reached the climactic bombing of the Death Star. Just as it looks like Luke is beat, Duncan paused it and cackled like a hyena.

Angered by the pause in the flow of possibly the most important scene in the movie, Pat leapt on top of Keith and wrestled with him until he pried the remote out of his fingers.

The rest of us laughed loudly at them. Pat switched the TV over to the Thanksgiving football game, and immediately the room was split.

Keith, Hjalmarsson, and I were rooting for the Pittsburg Steelers. Pat and Viktor were supporting the Dallas Cowboys. It got pretty fierce. By the time we tuned in, the fourth quarter had just started, and the Steelers were up 27-21. It was close. Every play consisted of yells and cheers, and at the end, pillow throwing. I was usually the one who get hit, since Pat liked to target me when the Cowboys couldn’t manage a first down.

With ten seconds left, the Steelers made an interception and ran it down the field, just about 20 yards away from a touchdown. Keith, Hjalmarsson, and I stood up in excitement, shrieking at the TV and cheering the Steelers on.

We screamed as the guy reached the end zone and threw the ball on the ground in triumph as his team engulfed him in tackles of congratulations. Time was up. The game was over. Duncan Keith leapt on top of me in celebration, and squished me into the couch. I was laughing hysterically, but I couldn’t breathe due to the heavy Keith on my back, and I was laughing even harder because of this.

I punched him weakly in the stomach to try and get him off.

“Keith, you idiot I can’t breath,” I said in between giggles.

He was spluttering too, trying to get off but then collapsing in laughter. I could hear Pat and Viktor whining as Hjalmarsson attacked them with pillows, gloating. I could not believe this chaos.

In the middle of it, the front door opened, and we all turned, in the midst of our hysterics to see who it was. At first glance, I sobered up immediately. Duncan, feeling me tense, turned to look at the door at well, and he immediately clambered off me.

Jon’s stony face stood at the door, appraising the situation.

“What’s going on here?”