Wasted

Early the next morning, I woke up to the shrieking of my phone. Checking the time as I pulled myself out of bed, I saw that I still had another thirty minutes before my alarm went off.

Fucking great.

It was Maggie, who had apparently tried calling me multiple times already.

“What, Mags?” I sighed as I accepted her call.

“No class today!” she cheered. “Guess who’s lying in bed all day? This girl!”

“No class?” I wondered. “What do you mean?”

“Have you looked outside? It looks like the world’s crack supply poured down from the heavens and coated Chicago in fine, white powder.”

I rubbed my eyes as I pulled open my curtains to see for myself. And sure enough, all of Chicago was covered in snow. I could see it blowing around in the wind and there were so far no signs of plows. That was strange for Chicago. Usually, the city was great about cleaning roads and keeping traffic moving.

“So every class is cancelled?” I asked hopefully. Bed sounded like a great idea.

“Unless you have a meeting with an advisor,” Maggie said. “Have you checked your email?”

“Seeing as I was sleeping the sleep of the innocent until you so kindly woke me up,” I yawned. “No, I haven’t.”

“Sounds like someone needs a few more hours of rest,” she snickered. “I’ll let you go. But thanks again for covering for me last night. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” I shuffled into my kitchen. I could already tell I wasn’t falling back asleep. “We’ll go shopping soon okay?”

“Sure,” Maggie agreed. “And we’ll go somewhere we can both afford. Catch you later.”

After hanging up, I poured myself some coffee and settled onto the couch to catch the news. After watching the weather, I saw that more snow would be on the way the following day. It looked as though I didn’t have to be anywhere all day, seeing as an email had also been sent out that Peplum would be closed that evening due to a power outage on that side of town. Why weren’t going to use the generator’s, I didn’t know, but I certainly wasn’t questioning it.

I changed the channel as browsed the internet, checking in on some of my own favorite blogs. Just as I was settling down to read about my favorite celebrity gossip, my phone went off again.

“Hey, Brandon!” I said too loudly. He had to have a hangover.

He groaned as expected. “Pipe down, why don’t you? Why you gotta be so noisy?”

“Just enjoying my day free from classes,” I said innocently. “You still at Jon’s?”

“Yeah,” Brandon grumbled. “I woke up in his guest room to him, Kane, Andrew, Corey, Hammer, and Stally banging down the door.”

“Sounds like a party,” I laughed. “Why are you calling me instead of bonding with your new teammates?”

“So I told you about that last night?” he referred to his roster spot.

“Indeed you did. But get to the point, Saad.”

“Can’t I call my favorite person ever?” Brandon asked and I could now hear voices in the background.

“What do you want from me?” I prodded.

“Jon’s got no food,” he sighed. “Will you come?”

“Why do I have to venture out in this weather?” I complained. “Unlike some people, I don’t have a world class parking facility. I had to park at the curb and I really don’t feel like digging my car out.”

“Oh, sorry,” I could all but see his embarrassment. His voice became muffled as he continued, “No go, guys. Her car’s snowed in.”

I heard a scuffle and a loud bang, making me jerk my cell away from my ear. “Hey, Steph. It’s Pat. Listen, I will pay you to bring us food. Jon has nothing. I don’t know how he survives.”

“It’s Andrew, Stephy!” another voice begged. “Bring us sustenance!”

“That’s a big word for you,” I teased. I glanced over the hour-by-hour weather and it looked like it would warm up just a little bit in a few hours. “I’ll try to make it over around lunch time okay? Can you make do until then?”

“If you found the apartment littered with bones and one less person,” I heard a new and unfamiliar voice. “Don’t blame us.”

I laughed. “I really hope you’re kidding.”



Two hours later, I was showered and dressed again in my pajamas. Except this time, I threw on a pair of leggings underneath the nightshirt I’d slept in since the beginning of my college days. With a warm wool jacket, scarf, and gloves, I pulled on my boots and ventured out into the cold Chicago morning.

Having checked my cabinets, I came to the realization that I had to stop at the grocery store along the way. Jon’s apartment wasn’t a terrible trek from where I lived, but it would take me a little while in this weather. At the grocery store, I gathered enough food for lunch and dinner, seeing as they’d probably be there a while. With the addition of a few snacks, I was back out the door in record time. Although, I was a little sorry to leave the warmth of the grocery store and the free coffee that they were handing out on the curb, of course.

The doorman was the same one that had been outside Jon’s building the night before and he recognized me.

“Mr. Toews called down and said he had a visitor,” the man smiled. “Go right on up. Floor 15, apartment 153.”

I thanked him and once I was in the elevator, I rested my head against the wall. My feet were killing me. All I wanted was to sit down in front of a heater and get the feeling back in my nose.

With my arms full, I got out of the elevator on his floor and knocked on his apartment door with my foot. I waited a few seconds, but got no answer. On the second try, I was still left standing in the hallway.

“Fine,” I groaned and dropped the bags. “We can play that way.”

I looked around for a possible place for an extra key. There was no mat under my feet, but there was a ledge over my head. Thanks to my long legs, I could stand on my toes and feel around. Sure enough, there was a house key stashed up there.

Quietly, I let myself into what I saw was massive apartment. Much too big for one person and the thought occurred to me. Did he have a girlfriend? I hadn’t met her at the practice, he hadn’t made mention of her at lunch, or even last night. And yet, that day in the parking lot he made it clear his troubled thoughts were about a girl.

I saw a few boxes lined up next to the door as I entered and wiped my feet. Ah, it was an ex-girlfriend.

The apartment was filled with loud noises and male voices. I rounded a corner and came into an open room that consisted of a nice kitchen, a dining room table, and a living room. The latter’s outside wall was made up entirely of windows, showing off a sweeping view of the city. I cleared my throat.

“Hey!” Brandon stood up. “You’re here!”

“Indeed I am,” I turned around and entered the kitchen nonchalantly. Depositing the bags, I found Jon walking my way. “And you need to find a better spot for you spare key.” I dropped the metal into his hand before leaning around him and waving. “Hi, I’m Steph. Nice to meet you.” Niklas Hjalmarsson and Viktor Stalberg waved back, unsure of how to react.

“You just… let yourself into my apartment?” Jon asked as Andrew and Pat began nosing through the paper bags.

“Yes,” I swatted their hands away. “You were all otherwise occupied. Now unload these onto the counter so I can cook.” I left them in the kitchen, with Jon still staring surprised at me, and went to look out the windows.

It was a spectacular view and in the shiny reflection, I saw the Captain come up behind me while the rest of his ‘guests’ worked in the kitchen or continued playing video games.

“Hope that’s not too off putting,” I said as I toed off my boots and picked them up. “Me just waltzing into your apartment.”

“I should have been paying attention,” he said. “I’m sorry you had to do that.”

“It was fun,” I shrugged. “But I couldn’t help but notice the boxes…”

“You know it’s blatantly obvious you’re going to become some sort of reporter,” Jon laughed. But he quickly became serious. “She’s moving out.”

“Does she have a name?” I asked.

“Lindsey,” he said. “We’d been together for a while, but things weren’t working anymore.”

I nodded. “I see. Well, if it softens the blow anymore, she’s crazy to leave this view behind.” I made sure to dart my eyes away from him to the skyline.

“Stephy!” Andrew complained. “Are you cooking for us?”

“I doubt any of you idiots can work a stove,” I teased. “Well, maybe you two are the exception. I’ll probably like you two.” I pointed to Niklas and Viktor. “You’re quiet.”

Everyone barked out a laugh. “Or maybe not.”

The two players got up from their places on the couch to officially introduce myself and I found that Viktor was definitely the charmer and ‘Hammer’ liked to use his accent liberally.

“It’s gets the ladies,” the both said together.

I was pulled away by Pat this time and dragged to the kitchen. “Make us food!” he complained.

“Easy there, buddy,” I wiggled out of his grasp. “I like my arm in my socket, thanks.”

“Sorry,” he apologized.

“You can make it up to me,” I thought out loud. “Take a seat with Brandon and Andrew. I have an idea.”



Hey, my lovely HockeyPucks! I have quite the treat for you all today!

As I type this, a delicious lunch is in the oven for my hockey playing friends. Who, might I add, forced me out of my apartment in ridiculous winter Chicago weather to cook for them. But that’s what ever. I’ve got some guest bloggers for you all!

Big thanks to Captain Toews for letting me appropriate his MacBook.

In bold, you’ll have Mr. Kane. In italics, you’ll have Mr. Shaw. And in bold italics you’ll have Mr. Saad. I’ve also been told to point out that I’m sitting in the lovely downtown pad of the captain himself with one Corey Crawford, Niklas Hjalmarsson, and Viktor Stalberg. Oh, and Jonanthan Toews is here too. We didn’t just break into his apartment…

So, here we go, ladies and gents.

PK: I should start my own blog. That would so awesome, right? Steph is laughing at me. She says my grammar would be horrible and that no one would read it because I’d forget about it. I beg to differ. She says to talk about hockey because this is usually a hockey blog. I guess I have to listen to her. *sigh*

What can I say about hockey? I could do something cheesy like, it’s a game of heart that runs in our veins. If you’re not a fan or you don’t play, you don’t understand. But that’s not really my style. Hockey to me is the only worthwhile thing to do with my life. I want to lift the Stanley Cup again and win a gold medal. I want to see my jersey retired and who knows; maybe I’d make a good coach.

Lunch smells pretty good. I have no clue what she made, but she was using all these fancy knives that I doubt Jonny Boy even knew he owned.

P Kane 88 out.

AS: That sucked ass. Maybe I shouldn’t say that because my stall is right next to him in the locker room. Whatever.

I spent some time in Rockford this season with Saader and that in its self felt like a huge championship win for me. I was passed up in the draft multiple times, but now here in Chicago, it feels a life time away. I’m on an NHL roster, for God’s sake. It’s insane.

Steph wouldn’t let us eat anything before lunch. Even though we all saw other food in the bags. No! She just let Stally steal popcorn. I don’t understand this logic. Damn Swedes. Ah! Steph’s letting everybody but me, Kaner, and Saader eat. This isn’t okay. I repeat, this isn’t okay.

I must stop this injustice! And get myself some food…

Shawzer, out.

BS: There are very few sane people in this apartment. It’s actually alarming. I almost feel bad we dragged Steph out of her apartment. And made her walk in the snow because she couldn’t get to her car. Almost.

I grew up with Steph as a babysitter. Lame, I know. But she was cool and was probably the only girl I knew besides my mom that knew hockey. And she was a cheerleader, I mean, come on.

Getting to see her again, totally out of the blue, during the lockout was probably one of the best things I’ve had happen to me since the draft. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed her smart ass comments and pushy questions. (She claims it’s because she’s so into journalism. I beg to differ.)

Like Shawzer said, seeing your name on the roster or above your locker room stall is unlike anything else. It doesn’t feel like reality and I don’t know that it ever will.

I think mine was the best one of all, thank you very much.

Brandon Saad.

Hi, it’s me, Steph again. I have to say, that was rather interesting. Let me know what you all thought of our ‘guests’ maybe I’ll do something like this again?

Stay classy and sassy, never trashy.
XO- Steph

Current music- The stupid Mario Kart theme song because they won’t fucking turn the game off!