The Best Years Of Our Lives

i]No taxi’s Patrick. I thought to myself as I saw one of the yellow cars tear through the snowy streets in the dark Chicago night, it’s headlights cutting through the darkness and putting a spotlight on the swirling snowflakes. Remember what happened last time. I seriously have not taken a taxi since the little accident I had with a taxi driver.

The snow was coming down really hard, and there were cars zipping up and down the streets from the United Center. I was wearing a hoodie and sunglasses even though it’s 11:30 at night. I’m trying to avoid being noticed by any Blackhawks fan. I even have a Buffalo Sabres snap back on shielding my eyes for emphasis on the fact that I am not Patrick Kane.

“Patrick! Patrick Kane!” Someone shouted, blowing my cover. I stuffed the dark shades in my hoodie’s pocket and took off the cap. I turned around to see my best friend and captain Jonathan Toews. I wanted to hide my face as he approached me, his feet crunching the fresh snow on the ground. We’d lost the game 4-2. I had a lot of giveaways, one of which led to an ‘unassisted’ goal. The thing is, it’s not unassisted. I assisted it. I gave Casey Cizikas a free goal. And I ended up literally giving them a free goal. I scored on Crawford. I was going to backhand it out of the crease, but I accidentally knocked it past the line. No doubt Captain Serious was going to be upset with my off game. Then again, Jonny hadn’t had the best game of his life either. The only one who had even a mediocre game would be Patrick Sharp with our two goals. “Patrick, what the hell are you doing here? A few guys wanted to drink the game away, and I was told to invite you.”

I contemplated it. Getting wasted would certainly take the edge off of my guilt and anger towards myself, but last time I got totally hammered that didn’t end so well for me or the Blackhawks organization. “Not tonight.” I said with along sigh, a puff of cold air followed, making a white cloud in the dark night. “And if you’re not going, what are you doing?” I already knew the answer.

“Oh, just hanging out with Sophie.” I could hear it in his voice. The kid is lovesick. “What’s up with you Kaner? You’re sitting at a bus stop and a bus passed by as I was walking and you didn’t take it. There’s like a fucking blizzard going on around you.”

I’m in no mood to joke around with him. There is nothing more I’d like than to be totally slammed and about to fuck some slut. But that’s not the route I’m taking for this tonight. No, not tonight. I could feel his serious stare on me and I just said bluntly, “I blame that loss on myself.”

“Yeah, I know. And it is your fault dumbass. But please, stop being such a girl and get the hell over it. You can stay at my apartment. Just please don’t try and catch a fucking bus right now Kaner.”

“Fine.” I said, getting up and purposely kicking snow in his face, making him grimace at the cold icy droplets that hit him.

* * * * * * * * *
Jon threw me the key to his apartment when we stood right outside it in the little hallway. I looked down the narrow pathway with no paint on the walls, no pictures, no mirrors, no decoration. The doors to all of the apartments are made of dark wood and they all have gold knocker things on them that have always looked to me like little shields. This place reminds me of a sketchy airport hotel that looks like has starred in a bunch of horror movies.

“This is the hellhole you live in now?” I asked Jon, who was knocking on the door across the hall.

“Hey, my apartment’s furnished. I don’t have to do anything.”

“Yeah, my house was furnished too.”

Jon shook his head; “I’ll meet you inside Pat.”

I opened up his door and got my first look at his new apartment. The furniture is so nice, very clean and new looking. The walls are coated with a nice light shade of red, and there’s a Chicago Blackhawks flag on the wall that catches my eye quickly. The couch is black leather, and it looks like the basement of a die hard Hawks fan. There’s a bubble hockey table on one side, and an air hockey table pressed against the wall on the other side of the room. There is a Toews jersey hanging on the wall that looked to be signed by all the Blackhawks players. After further inspection, I realized I had signed this jersey.

I heard the door squeak, and I whipped around to see Jon leading some girl into the apartment. Jon gave me a smile and said, “I told you, it’s furnished.”

“ This is furnished?” I asked, my voice full of astonishment. Jon and his kid girlfriend both giggled.

Jon gestured to her and said proudly, “Patrick, this is Sophie!”

I rolled my eyes at him. It’s disgusting that he’s standing here with a 20 year old girl. 4 years younger than both of us. Apparently she’s still in college. And she’s not even old enough to drink. I’ve heard a lot about her from Tazer, the whole team has. A few of us has pointed out that Sophie is seriously too young for him. But he pretty much ignores us and claims that Sophie is ‘perfect’ for him.

But I looked her over anyway. She has long and shiny blonde hair that’s in a thick braid over her right shoulder. She has pretty green eyes and nice eyebrows as well. It looks natural. I can tell she’s wearing a little bit of makeup, but not a lot. She’s really pretty, and a bit shorter than me. She’s covered up well, so she’s not a puck bunny. I think. That’s a change for Jonny, even though a lot of people don’t know it, he’s usually brining in the puck sluts. He probably has a worse record than me, I’m just way more obvious. Damn I wish I had a girl with me tonight. I looked at her again, and for a split second, she looked super familiar. But in a flash it was gone.

I shook her hand, “Hey, I’m Patrick Kane. You must be the much talked about Sophie.”

She gave me a small smile, “I guess I am.”

“Nice to meet you.” I said and gave her a nod.

She didn’t say anything, just smiled. Strange. She plopped herself down on the leather loveseat next to Jon. She had a pen and paper, and she was scribbling something down.

‘What’s that?” I asked rudely. I’m having a hard time knowing that there are six bud lights in the fridge only a few feet away. Jon gave me a death glare, as if I was going after his underage crush. She’s waaay too young. And she’s still in college. She must be living off campus.

She looked at me with surprise lighting her eyes. She fixed me with an intense stare and replied, “Oh, this?” She showed me the back of her paper. “This is homework. Why? Why do you ask?”

Liar. I could see it on her face. “Just curious.” I replied lightly, smirking at Jon, who was still giving me the evil eye. “Plus, it’s quiet and awkward. Is that so wrong?” I asked her.

She gave me a strange look, like she couldn’t quite figure me out. But that’s understandable, I haven’t really given her much to work with. Jonathan cut in, “Um, Soph,”

She turned her attention to him and said, “Oh, sorry. It’s just, I don’t even know, I’m sorry. But yeah Pat, just homework. It’s boring. You can do it for me if you’d like.”

I wondered if she was joking. “Nah, I’m good. Maybe another time.”

If looks could kill, I would be six feet under. Jon looked so incredibly pissed off at me, and I don’t know why. Because I’m messing around with his underage girlfriend who’s actually not that impressive? She’s really awkward, Jon’s really awkward and even though I can be awkward, I’m the one who’s going to have to break the ice if the three of us could ever become friends. Hey, it’s not my fault that no one knows what to say. Obviously Jon disagrees with me on this one. “What’s up with you Tazer?”

“Nothing,” He hissed at me through his teeth.

Sophie looked down at her hands, and stood up “Maybe I should get going.”

“No! Stay! Please!” Jon stood up with her and grasped her hand. She sighed and sat down, and Jonathan pulled her close to him and she willingly snuggled into his chest. Oh COME ON! He could have been her BABYSITTER!

But when Sophie sat down, I got a glimpse of her paper. I might not have been good at math, but I’m not an idiot. And I went to school and I know what math homework looks like, and that’s not it. “What IS that?” I snapped at her.

She looked at me and with venom in her voice she spat, “Listen, nosy, it’s just math homework! That’s ALL!” But I saw the alarm that had been on her face, even if it had just been for a fleeting moment. I saw it.

Jon stood up and tried to keep himself under control once he saw I had upset his precious ‘girlfriend.’ “Patrick, I think that it’s time for you to leave.” He growled at me, like he was a great dane and I was small little puppy cowering alone in the allies of Chicago where there really are dog fights.

I glared right back and got right up in that big dog’s face and growled right back, “Yeah, but you were the one who offered me a free night at Casa de Blackhawks! Or Casa de I’m-Obsessed-Wish-Myself. Whichever suits you better!”

Jon sat back down, and I could tell it physically pained him not to punch me in the face. But that would be too gruesome for his little girlfriend. It would be like her watching a PG-13 movie. It hurt me to hold that comment back.

Sophie snapped at me, “Fine Patrick! You’ve got me, it’s not math homework. It’s statistics.”

“Statistics?” I asked, genuinely surprised by her answer. She threw her notebook at me.

“Bitch, do you think I’m lying? No, you can even take a look for yourself. But this was kind of my own little secret that no one knew about. So you better feel pretty bad about this Patty Cakes!” She said sarcastically. Seriously, Sophie looks so sweet, but she’s acting like a real bitch. Which made me even more eager to see what these ‘statistics’ are.”

Jon stole the notebook back from my hands and without even glacing at it he handed it back to Sophie. “Listen Kaner,” he spat, “This isn’t about you. This is about Sophie and her secrets! You don’t even know her!” Of course, he has to defend a kid.

Sophie whispered something in his ear and I sat there, looking at the two of them. I felt like I was going to explode. Sophie being a bitch isn’t what I need right now. Sophie handed it to me, “Here. Take it. “ She threw the notepad at me, and I looked through it from the beginning page. Her handwriting was scribbly, but still legible.

Boston/Toronto – 1-7 BOS goals: Bergeron(3), Marchand(1), Seguin (2), Lucic(1) Kesler (1)
New Jersey/Chicago – 2-1 NJ goals: Zajac (1), Zidlicky (1)
Buffalo/Montreal – 0-2 SABRES!!!! Kaleta (2)

It’s NHL scores. These are the three games that happened on October 11th. We played the New Jersey Devils and lost. 2-1. She was super excited that the Sabres won.

I looked up at her, and studied her facial expression. She looked like she was expecting me to say something. “This is pretty cool.” I choked out, handing the note book back to her. “Do you do that every night?”

She nodded, “Yeah. I like to do it. I used to do it with my neighbor all the time.”

She. Used. To. Do. It. With. Her. Neighbor. That’s what we would do all the time, me and Alison’s little sister… Sophie.

I looked at her. Blonde hair, blue eyes, 20 years old. No way. No fucking way.

Jon looked between the two of us and to make a point he kissed Sophie’s neck. Ew. Why is he kissing her neck? “You’re the woman for me.”

Woman. Ha. She’s like twenty! Then something else hit me. It’s January 17th, and Sophie’s birthday is January 30th. She’s 19. She is 19 years old and Jonathan Toews is kissing down her neck? I made a face that only Jon saw. If it wasn’t disgusting already, it’s even more disgusting that it’s Sophie. And it becomes 10 times more disgusting when she’s only nineteen years old. Not even twenty. It’s disgusting.

Sophie got up and said, “I should get going. Class tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Jon and I said at the same time.

I continued, “Can I ask you a quick question?” Jonathan’s eyes fixed me with so much anger in one stare. Like I was trying to pursue his kid girlfriend. Ew. She’s my friend. Or she was my friend. I never liked her or anything. That would have been creepy. Plus, I had a thing for Ali.

Sophie flashed me a familiar smile. “I thought you’d never ask Kaner. Alison’s fine.”