Wasted

I stretched my arms above my head and yawned quietly. Opening my eyes slowly, I saw that I wasn’t at home. But I was surrounded by hockey players. Oh, I was still at Jon’s.

After lunch we’d all taken turns racing on Mario Kart and competing on Wii Sports. I’d left them at around four to make dinner and once we’d all eaten, movies were voted on. I made through the Hangover before my eyelids got droopy and I realized how soft Jon’s couch was. Soon enough, my feet were propped up on Brandon’s lap and my head lolled back against the couch’s arm.

A quick time check showed that it was just after eight and pitch black out. Great, I was looking forward to walking home in that.

As I began to stir from the coach, I heard voices. I noticed that the sleeping mass of hockey players in the room was missing two key members. Pat and Jon were gone.

“Just admit it dude,” I heard Patrick say in an attempt to be quiet. “You looked like you were ready to kill Saad and he might as well be her little brother.”

“I was not,” Jon responded. “Her feet were on my couch, that’s all.”

“Feet?” Pat guffawed. “Dude, have you seen half the team’s feet? If you’re worried about Steph’s, then I think you have a problem.”

They lapsed into silence then and I began moving around the room to collect my things. I was exhausted even after my nap and I had class tomorrow, assuming that it wasn’t canceled.

I heard Pat begin to speak, but Jon cut him off.

“You want me to admit something?” he spat. “Fine, I think she’s attractive in pretty much every way, okay? But that doesn’t mean I’m going to ask her out or anything.”

“Don’t give me that bull shit,” Kaner scoffed. “You have a thing for Saad’s babysitter.”

“We’re not having this conversation,” I could practically hear Jon roll his eyes. “I’m not wasting my breath on it.”

“What are you so afraid of, man?”

“Maybe I just don’t think she’d say yes,” Jon’s voice was a little quieter.

“Lindsey said yes,” Patrick reminded him. “You thought she was out of your league too. But newsflash, Tazer, you’re a hockey player!”

Jon grumbled something and I sat back down on the couch, both to process what I had just heard and to make it seem like I hadn’t just heard everything they’d just said.

Jon thought I was attractive? In every way? I looked down at my printed leggings and laughed. They had fucking strawberries on them and my hair probably looked worse than it had when I’d arrived that morning. I’d practically broken into his apartment too. And I freaking blogged about him.

That was attractive?

And he thought I would say no. I’d probably pass out from shock and then say yes in every language known to man. That thought creeped me out to say the least, but it effectively described what I would actually do.

My face had to be bright red. But that was okay, it would keep me warm on my brisk walk home. I made my way into the kitchen only to see a nonchalant looking Kaner and a caught-in-the-headlights Jon.

“Everything okay?” I asked, trying to disguise my own nerves.

“Peachy,” Jon croaked. “You, uh, headed out?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “It’s getting late and I have class tomorrow.”

“You coming to the game tomorrow?” Pat asked. “The scrimmage?”

“I was debating,” I shrugged. “I don’t have work tomorrow night and my last class ends at two, so I might make it down with my friend.”

“Do you want the best seats in the house?” Patrick asked and I pretended not to see Jon staring daggers at him. Jealousy?

“Isn’t it a free game?”

“You and your friend could watch from the locker room,” he suggested. “Or up in the family box.”

“That would be pretty cool,” I consented. “I’ll have to talk to her and make sure she’s off too.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Jon announced. “Get you a cab.”

“I don’t need one,” I protested. “I can walk home.”

“Over my dead body,” Jon said as he helped me into my jacket. “Do you want any of the food you brought?”

“Nah,” I shook my head. “You probably need it more than I do.”

He laughed and we wandered down the hall to the elevators. Oh god, a small, enclosed space.

“I feel bad no one was there to let you in,” he said. “Consider it making it up to you?”

“But that’s no fun,” I bumped shoulders with him, shocked I was remaining so calm. “If you want to make it up to me, make it good.”

“Fine then,” he thought. “What do you want?”

A lot of things.

“Um,” I paused. “An interview? Like I sort of did with Pat, Brandon, and Andrew this afternoon? I have a project due soon where we have to take a well known figure and do a fictional interview with them about their lives. I think extra credit might be mine if I get a real interview.”

“Consider it done,” Jon said quickly. “When do you want to meet up?”

“I don’t know when your pregame rituals start,” I smiled. “But what about right after my last class tomorrow? We could meet for coffee?”

“Sure,” he nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll, uh, meet you at 2:30 at the Starbucks on Michigan Ave? Or we could go somewhere else.”

“That’s fine,” I assured him. “It should be kind of dead then.”

“Great,” Jon smiled. “Hey, Harold! Hail a cab please!” He spoke to the doorman.

“Jon!” I swatted his arm. “No cab!”

“What?” he mimed not hearing me. “I can’t hear what you’re saying. You’re getting into a cab.”

He gently steered me towards the waiting yellow vehicle. “See you tomorrow!”



I stood outside the coffee house and wrapped my jacket tighter around me. It was a breezy day, adding to the chill of mid-January in Chicago. I was early, so it wasn’t like Jon was late.

“Hey!” I heard his voice behind me. “Were you waiting long?”

I shook my head and a few snow flurries fell from my beanie. “Not at all.”

“You could have gone in,” he held the door for me. “I would have found you.”

“I was fine,” I assured him. “And besides, you’re the one buying the coffee.”

Jon laughed and led me towards the register where the barista’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Once we had our drinks in hand, I opted for a back corner booth instead of my normal spot by the windows.

“So are you coming tonight?” Jon asked. “To the game?” His voice was eager.

“Oh,” I frowned. “I forgot to tell you after I called Brandon this morning. Maggie isn’t feeling well and I have to cover someone else’s shift. If I could get out of it, I would. But I owe this guy for covering for me last week.”

“I get it,” he assured me. “Just wish you could be there.”

“If a great captain could get me tickets to the home opener,” I smiled. “I’d be forever grateful.”

“Consider it done,” Jon affirmed. “But will a great girl be in my numbers?”

I’m blatantly flirting with Jonathan Toews, oh my god.

“Sorry,” I breathed. “I already have a white, number 20 jersey waiting for me.”

He made a face at me and I stuck my tongue out right back.

“So how does this work?” Jon asked. “I’ve been interviewed a lot, but never something quite like this.”

“Well it’s a first for me too,” I admitted. “I’m going to take notes on my laptop of what you say and then later tonight I’ll write up the formal interview and then reformat it for the blog. It is okay if it goes on the blog, right?”

“I’d be insulted if it didn’t,” he said. “Let’s get started.”



Hey, there all your fabulous people! Are you all anxiously awaiting the start of the NHL season? Yeah, same here.

Since so many of you liked my guest blogger bit yesterday, I decided to do something fun today as well! Being the over achieving, try hard that I am, I chose to take a class project and go a bit… overboard.

Yes, ladies and gents, I scored myself an interview with the Blackhawks captain for a class. And for you all, of course. Read on below for the exciting dialogue that I cut out of my serious essay.

Blog (B): So the NHL is returning! What were you doing when you heard the exciting news?

Jonathan Toews (JT): I was asleep, actually. Nothing too exciting. I was at my place in Winnipeg when my phone went off. I ignored it for a while, but eventually it got too annoying. Needless to say, I didn’t get much more sleep that night.

B: What do you think of the new talent that’s been brought in? *cough*Brandon Saad*cough*

JT: *laughs* They’re all really talented. And it’s great that they spent time in Rockford so that they’re not coming in stale, like some of us. And Saader’s got some exciting days ahead, I’m sure.

B: That was a good answer. But can you blame his babysitter for having pride in her former charge?

JT: Not at all. He talks about you all the time, actually. Definitely puppy love.

B: Well that’s funny. He talks about you a lot too. ‘Jon did this. Tazer did that.’ Blah blah blah. Let’s get to the fun questions now, okay?

JT: *apprehensively* Okay?

B: Most embarrassing moment since coming to the NHL?

JT: Oh god, uh, maybe the time I ran a kid over at a clinic? Or when I ran my car into a pole? Both of those were pretty bad.

B: I hear the pole is okay…

JT: So is the kid! He’s fine, I swear.

B: Just yanking your chain, geez. True or false, you’ve used your bilingual language skills to pick up a girl?

JT: Vrai, je parle francais. True, I speak French.

B: Moi aussi. *laughs* Think of how annoying we could be to the guys if we just started talking in French.

JT: You’ve got a devious mind. I like it.

B: Not so Captain Serious, huh?

JT: I’ve been trying to lose that forever! It’s not how I am all the time.

B: My first impressions of you said differently. But let’s talk about your game face. Or should I say faces…

JT: Is this interview just about embarrassing me? I’ve seen all the horrific photos. I never realize until after a game that I’ve been ‘derping’.

B: Derping is an understatement. Your new nickname should be Master Derp.

JT: Don’t let the guys catch wind of that. Wait, they read your blog…

B: Oops, now it’s definitely going on there! Hashtag sorry not sorry.

JT: That’s not fair!

B: You just said you liked my devious mind. Can’t help that I am what I am.

Those were just my favorite parts of the interview! And I’m pretty sure I had to cut almost all of them out of my essay because they weren’t ‘professional’. Whatevs.

Stay classy and sassy, never trashy!
XO- Steph

Current music- About a Girl by the Academy Is (because I’m still obsessed, okay?)