Clarity

“Oh, Elena!” Caity exclaimed, bursting into my room at precisely 2 o’clock.

I had been laying on my bed since 12:30, trying to figure out what to do. I put on jeans and the Del Zotto shirt at 12:45, laid back down, and hadn’t moved since.

“Dude, c’mon, we gotta go,” she whined, walking over to my bed.

I sat up slowly, rolling my head back to crack my neck. “I don’t want to move.”

Caity shook her head. “You just did.”

“No, I meant like walking,” I retaliated, laying back down.

Caity groaned and grabbed my legs, immediately pulling me off my bed. “Don’t think I won’t drag you to my car, because trust me, I will.”

I sighed and stood up, grabbing a 50 dollar bill and shoving it in my pocket, along with the ticket that Carl had apparently dropped off before he even called Caity, hoping we would come.

“Let’s go,” I said.

We arrived at MSG at 2:50, our seats being a few rows behind the Rangers bench. We got to our seats at around 3:06, after buying a drink and some chicken fingers.

“So, why exactly am I here?” I asked, taking a sip of my Sprite.

Caity shrugged. “Wanna know what Carl said?”

I nodded. Caity swallowed her chicken and turned to me. “He said, and I quote, ‘Maybe if he at least thinks that she still cares, he’ll get his head out of his ass play well and stop moping.’ End quote.”

I leaned down, putting my head in my hands. “Ugh, I have to talk to him, I don’t want to be the reason he’s playing bad.”

Caity rubbed my back soothingly, trying to calm me down. “It’s fine, he’ll see you, and he’ll play a bomb ass game.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her comment, and I sat up once I heard the buzzer which ended warmups sound. I cursed silently under my breath, hoping that Michael would see me, but also hoping he wouldn’t.

Carl met up with him at the blue line, nudging his shoulder. Michael didn’t really move, and when they entered the bench, Carl looked up at Caity and I, and just kept staring and making dumb faces at us.

“He’s not even looking up here,” I sighed to Caity.

“Give him a second,” she said, and waved to Carl, who smiled and waved back.

Michael frowned at him, and began to talk, then followed his gaze up to where Caity and I were sitting. He stopped talking and his jaw dropped, staring at me. I gave him a small smile, not trying to get him thinking I had completely forgiven him already. We still had to talk. He bit his lip and reciprocated the action before taking a seat on the bench next to Carl.

Caity nudged my shoulder, and I looked over at her and gave her the same smile I had given Michael moments ago.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” she smiled.

“I hope so,” I murmured, my eyes on Michael’s back as he watched the game start.

First period. 2-0. Michael played well.

Second period. 3-0. Michael made some good plays.

Third period. 4-0. Michael played better in the last period than he did in the first and second combined.

Caity and I stood up once the game ended and watched as the team skated towards the locker room.

“You being here definitely helped,” she said after we had been standing for about five minutes while waiting for the arena to somewhat clear up.

I turned to her and shrugged. “I doubt it.”

“You guys need to talk,” she mumbled quietly as she started up the stairs to where Carl was standing. “Hey, dipshit,” she smiled up at him.

“Hey, guys,” Carl said, wrapping his arm around Caity’s shoulder. “I’m gonna take Caity to my car so I can drive you guys to yours. But, I gotta talk to her, so you’re wait right here,” she smiled at me as we approached the back exit.

I nodded and pulled my phone out of my pocket. I stood there and watched as Carl and Caity disappeared, then started scrolling through Twitter on my phone. I got bored after a while and put my phone back.

“Elena.”

I froze, not even blinking for a good ten seconds. I knew exactly who it was. Caity and Carl definitely took their own cars and left me. As if on cue, my phone buzzed. I turned slightly towards him, then unlocked my phone to see Caity’s text.

you two are gonna talk it out. I took my car, Carl took his, we’re going back to our place. have fun at Michael’s, and if you have makeup sex, please use protection. k thanks love you.

I sighed and turned around fully, Michael’s eyes wide. “Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” I murmured.

Michael coughed, and I looked up at him. “Thanks for coming.”

I nodded. “No problem.”

He reached back and started rubbing his neck. “So, um, I’m guessing you realized that Carl and Caity left?”

“Yeah.”

He bit his lip and brought his arm back to his side. “Do you want me to drive you back to your apartment?”

I shook my head. “No. I want to talk to you.”

His eyes widened at my comment and he started nodding rapidly. “Okay, that’s uh, that’s good, so, should we go, then?”

I couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his nervousness. “Yeah.”

His eyes brightened and he smiled, then proceeded to open the door and led me to his car.

“I really am sorry. I was out of line,” he spoke for the first time as we were about two or three minutes from his complex.

I looked over at him, my eyes wide. “Yeah, you were.” I was pretty shocked that he had cracked and apologized first.

He nodded. “It was a stupid ass comment, as soon as I said I regretted it. I don’t even know where it came from,” he explained, shaking his head.

We pulled into his complex and parked in his usual spot. We were silent in the elevator and when he unlocked the door, I went and sat down on the sofa in the living room.

“I didn’t know what I was thinking,” he mumbled, and I could barely hear it.

I bit my lower lip and looked over at him. He was leaning on the island in the kitchen, his eyes glued to the bobblehead of Wayne Gretzky that was sitting on the counter.

What strange men they are.

“I took it too hard,” I said quietly, looking at my hands. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his head snap up, his eyes burning into my skull. He had a confused look on his face.

“What?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I shouldn’t have taken too much offense. I overreacted.”

Michael walked over to wear I was and bent down in front of me, and tilted my head up so I was forced to look in his eyes. “This was in no way your fault,” he whispered. “I made a dumb comment, you had every right to be pissed off. You didn’t overreact, if I was you and some guy said that to me, I’d be mad as well. It’s not your fault. I’m sorry, and if you can’t forgive me, I understand.”

I stared at him for a while, taking in his words. If you can’t forgive me, I understand.

“Why wouldn’t I forgive you?” I asked him after a while.

He shook his head. “Because I’m a dumbass.”

I smiled a little. “But you’re my dumbass.”

A split second later, his lips were on mine, my back now pressed against the back of the sofa. He had one hand on one side of my leg, the other hand slowly rubbing my cheek. He brought his other hand up, cupping my face softly. After a few more seconds, he pulled away, and a small sigh escaped my lips. He grabbed my hands and pulled me up, then kissed me again, wrapping his arms around my waist. Slowly and steadily, we maneuvered ourselves back, and being careful, he led me down onto his bed.

Why was I ever mad at him in the first place?