Status: just for fun
Je t'aime, tu sais?
Emergency//Urgence
"Emergency." Was all the text from Alex said. Jamie thought momentarily as she saw her phone flash silently next to her in the library. Last night.
Jamie had spent the morning beating herself up. She had never been too much of a drinker, although she did like good wine and having a good time. She criticized herself in the morning for having a slight headache, but more so for wishing somehow that she could have woken up next to Patrice again without it having been too weird or fast. Then, she further criticized herself for being sad about wanting such a thing; she was here to work, execute a thesis, and find a job. She was here not to fall in love, but to fall into a field of research she had been dreaming about since following her dad into the embassy as a little girl.
Jamie grabbed her phone, her travel mug of tea, and hitched it to the mud room of the library. She dialed her friend, and wondered what could have happened once she and Patrice had dropped Alex off at her apartment complex.
"What, what's happening?" She asked breathlessly as her friend picked up on the other line. Jamie tried to quiet her voice in case it traveled through the doors and back into the library, but was nervous of the situation.
"I did something bad," she moaned.
"What, what is it?"
"Really bad..."
"Oh my god, if you don't tell me-"
"Tyler spent the night!" She hissed. "I'm one of them! I'm a hockey slut!"
"Seriously?!" Jamie quickly exited the building and immediately regretted her decision as the snow pounded her sweat shirt clad body. "Alex!" She scolded her friend.
"I knooooow," Alex moaned.
"Is he still there?" Jamie whispered.
"No! He left early; I was so ashamed I pretended to sleep through it."
"Did you sleep with him?"
"I don't know, Jamie! I don't know..." her friend sighed. "Oh my God..."
"Well did he have to get dressed in the morning?"
"He had to pull his shirt on, I think. Maybe his pants; I don't know! Oh my God... I'm not a slut! I'm really not!"
"I know you're not, I know Alex." Jamie comforted her friend. The two sighed and Jamie's head whirred. This is why we never look up from our favorite books, she thought to herself. This is all just plain nuts.
"I can't believe us last night," Alex sighed. "It was a lot of fun though." Jamie agreed. She had shared a few shots of Patron but other than that, was at a happy buzz throughout the night with Milan, Guill, Gretta and Patrice. Her friend, on the other hand, and the man they called Marchy and Segs were a little more wild, however. The three of them danced and dared each other to shot after shot after shot. Jamie could see why Alex had a lot of fun; she had two men faunning over her the entire night--two famous men at that. What else did the poor girl have to do but get drunk and try to enjoy herself? Maybe... she thought; maybe, I should just try to enjoy myself, too.
"Can we... can we watch their game tomorrow and eat ice cream?" Alex asked, shyly.
The girls sat on the green velvet couch in yoga pants and Harvard sweatshirts--the staple to every Ph.D. student's wardrobe.
The ice cream sat on the trunk that doubled as a coffee table as they watched NESN make the pregame announcements. Neither found they had much of an appetite, but rather, had knots in their stomachs and slightly sweaty palms. How had these two fallen into such a whirlwind?
"Did you exchange numbers or anything?" Jamie asked her friend, quietly.
"I don't know. I think this is his; I don't know another Tyler..." she said, showing Jamie her contacts list. "You've exchanged right? You said he's texted you."
"Yeah, just not since his one thanking me for helping him welcome his brother and girlfriend into town. It was really sweet."
Alex shook her head. "How did you get us into this mess, James?" She laughed, sighing.
The crowd on the television erupted as the players took the ice for warm up skate. Jamie felt her head swirl and her heart beat faster. There was no way in hell that that man on the ice had been pursuing her; there was no way, she thought. Alex went silent too.
"And now, down on the ice, we drop to Naoko with Brad Marchand!" The TV announced.
"Oh my god!" Alex gasped, grabbing Jamie's arm. "Oh my god!" It was him. They definitely sat with him two nights ago; Alex had even poured a shot of Patron down his open mouth. "Oh my god..." she whispered.
"... the time off was wonderful, but honestly I think most of the team is just ready to get back and hit the ice," he said, looking between the reporter and the camera.
"Oh my god..." Alex continued.
The reporter thanked Marchy for his time and the camera panned out to show the entire rink. It focused on the goalie, and then zoomed in on Patrice.
"OH MY GOD!" Alex screamed. "That's really him! Oh my GOD! JAMIE!"
Jamie's head and heart thudded and she felt dizzy. The camera only showed him for a few seconds. He watched the puck with intimacy and then kicked off to skate the warmup drill, biting his lip. She bit hers. He hadn't been lying. He was a hockey player. Her temperature rose and she felt perspiration on her forehead. She could hear Alex shrieking next to her, her hands finding their way to her hair as she said something about Tyler Seguin. There was another shot of Patrice stretching. She continued to bite her lip, and thought to herself in French: I can't wait to see you again.
Jamie had spent the morning beating herself up. She had never been too much of a drinker, although she did like good wine and having a good time. She criticized herself in the morning for having a slight headache, but more so for wishing somehow that she could have woken up next to Patrice again without it having been too weird or fast. Then, she further criticized herself for being sad about wanting such a thing; she was here to work, execute a thesis, and find a job. She was here not to fall in love, but to fall into a field of research she had been dreaming about since following her dad into the embassy as a little girl.
Jamie grabbed her phone, her travel mug of tea, and hitched it to the mud room of the library. She dialed her friend, and wondered what could have happened once she and Patrice had dropped Alex off at her apartment complex.
"What, what's happening?" She asked breathlessly as her friend picked up on the other line. Jamie tried to quiet her voice in case it traveled through the doors and back into the library, but was nervous of the situation.
"I did something bad," she moaned.
"What, what is it?"
"Really bad..."
"Oh my god, if you don't tell me-"
"Tyler spent the night!" She hissed. "I'm one of them! I'm a hockey slut!"
"Seriously?!" Jamie quickly exited the building and immediately regretted her decision as the snow pounded her sweat shirt clad body. "Alex!" She scolded her friend.
"I knooooow," Alex moaned.
"Is he still there?" Jamie whispered.
"No! He left early; I was so ashamed I pretended to sleep through it."
"Did you sleep with him?"
"I don't know, Jamie! I don't know..." her friend sighed. "Oh my God..."
"Well did he have to get dressed in the morning?"
"He had to pull his shirt on, I think. Maybe his pants; I don't know! Oh my God... I'm not a slut! I'm really not!"
"I know you're not, I know Alex." Jamie comforted her friend. The two sighed and Jamie's head whirred. This is why we never look up from our favorite books, she thought to herself. This is all just plain nuts.
"I can't believe us last night," Alex sighed. "It was a lot of fun though." Jamie agreed. She had shared a few shots of Patron but other than that, was at a happy buzz throughout the night with Milan, Guill, Gretta and Patrice. Her friend, on the other hand, and the man they called Marchy and Segs were a little more wild, however. The three of them danced and dared each other to shot after shot after shot. Jamie could see why Alex had a lot of fun; she had two men faunning over her the entire night--two famous men at that. What else did the poor girl have to do but get drunk and try to enjoy herself? Maybe... she thought; maybe, I should just try to enjoy myself, too.
"Can we... can we watch their game tomorrow and eat ice cream?" Alex asked, shyly.
The girls sat on the green velvet couch in yoga pants and Harvard sweatshirts--the staple to every Ph.D. student's wardrobe.
The ice cream sat on the trunk that doubled as a coffee table as they watched NESN make the pregame announcements. Neither found they had much of an appetite, but rather, had knots in their stomachs and slightly sweaty palms. How had these two fallen into such a whirlwind?
"Did you exchange numbers or anything?" Jamie asked her friend, quietly.
"I don't know. I think this is his; I don't know another Tyler..." she said, showing Jamie her contacts list. "You've exchanged right? You said he's texted you."
"Yeah, just not since his one thanking me for helping him welcome his brother and girlfriend into town. It was really sweet."
Alex shook her head. "How did you get us into this mess, James?" She laughed, sighing.
The crowd on the television erupted as the players took the ice for warm up skate. Jamie felt her head swirl and her heart beat faster. There was no way in hell that that man on the ice had been pursuing her; there was no way, she thought. Alex went silent too.
"And now, down on the ice, we drop to Naoko with Brad Marchand!" The TV announced.
"Oh my god!" Alex gasped, grabbing Jamie's arm. "Oh my god!" It was him. They definitely sat with him two nights ago; Alex had even poured a shot of Patron down his open mouth. "Oh my god..." she whispered.
"... the time off was wonderful, but honestly I think most of the team is just ready to get back and hit the ice," he said, looking between the reporter and the camera.
"Oh my god..." Alex continued.
The reporter thanked Marchy for his time and the camera panned out to show the entire rink. It focused on the goalie, and then zoomed in on Patrice.
"OH MY GOD!" Alex screamed. "That's really him! Oh my GOD! JAMIE!"
Jamie's head and heart thudded and she felt dizzy. The camera only showed him for a few seconds. He watched the puck with intimacy and then kicked off to skate the warmup drill, biting his lip. She bit hers. He hadn't been lying. He was a hockey player. Her temperature rose and she felt perspiration on her forehead. She could hear Alex shrieking next to her, her hands finding their way to her hair as she said something about Tyler Seguin. There was another shot of Patrice stretching. She continued to bite her lip, and thought to herself in French: I can't wait to see you again.
♠ ♠ ♠
:)