Changes

I cringed as the front door to our house creaked loudly. It was nearly 1 o’clock in the morning and I had abandoned Pat’s house to come home. After Pat passed out on his couch, I couldn’t find it in myself to join him. My mind was too preoccupied with my newly recovered memory. It replayed over and over again in my mind, becoming more vivid each time. Pat and I had shared some sort of a moment together. Though we had shared multiple moments like this before, this one seemed a little peculiar. And ultimately, I found myself staring at the dark sky and extremely aware of the muscular chest pressed against my back. It practically drove me insane and encouraged me to make my way back to my house.

Though sneaking into my house was one of my fortes as a teenager, my extreme drunkenness hindered my skill greatly. I closed the front door slowly, trying to mask the loud creaks as best as possible, and kicked off my heels, grasping the slim straps in my hands. As I started making my way upstairs, I suddenly noticed a soft glow of light coming from the living room, followed by the low rumble of voices. Peeking around the doorframe, I spotted two figures seated in front of the television—my father and Grant. Though the television was on, the volume was turned down very low and the two were engaged in conversation.

“It’s great to have her back home for bit, you know?” my dad’s voice floated to my position in the doorway, “Even if she is running off with her friends.”

Grant stayed silent for a moment, giving my dad a chance to make another statement. “Don’t take it personally, Grant. It’s always been this way for Pat and Allie.”

He let out a defeated sigh, “How so?”

My dad chuckled softly, “Those two have always been like that—running away from the rest of the group to stir up trouble on their own. They were crazy children and it really hasn’t changed much.”

Grant was silent again and the volume of the television increased slightly. Assuming that the conversation had ended, I started to turn towards the stairs again, but the mumble of Grant’s low voice caused me to pause again.

“I really do love her,” he semi-whispered, “I just hope it’s enough.”

“She loves you, too. I can see it,” my father sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, “but sometimes, loving someone can never be enough. It’s just something you have to try once and if it doesn’t work out, you know it wasn’t meant to be—no if’s, and’s, or but’s. Just go with it; I think it’ll be worth it.”

“You think so?”

My father smiled with triumph, “Oh, I know so! Just take a look at my wife and me; it wasn’t all smooth sailing. Nothing comes easy, boy.”

Grant simply nodded, taking in the wise advice from my father, “Thanks, Mr. Barnes. Allie’s really lucky to have you.”

“That’s enough advice from me today. ‘Night, Grant,” he stood up from the couch and began making his way towards the doorway—and towards me. I quickly ducked behind the wall and slipped into the darkness of the corner. As his footsteps grew louder, my father received a quiet goodnight from Grant.

Suddenly, my father appeared in the hallway, making his way to the base of the steps. He placed a foot on the bottom one and turned towards me, smirking slightly. “Night, Allie.” My eyes widened to the size of saucers and I merely picked my hand up for a lame wave. With that, he continued his ascend of the stairs, chuckling lightly to himself.

After recovering from the slight shock, I pushed myself off the wall and slinked around the corner into the living room, acting as nonchalant as possible in my drunken state.

“Hey,” Grant offered me a weak smile as I plopped onto the cushion next to him, immediately tucking my body into his warm chest.

“I’m really sorry,” I whispered into his chest, placing a small kiss at the base of his neck.

“It’s fine, Al.”

I sighed and sat up slightly, running a hand through my hair, “No. It’s not. I left you when you were supposed to be my guest and I ruined the night we were supposed to spend together.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, “It wasn’t a big deal.”

I folded my arms across my chest and caught his gaze, “You’re just saying that.”

“I know.”

I let out a heavy breath and slouched my shoulders, “I’m not even going to bother with excuses. There are no excuses for what I did. I abandoned you in a place where you knew no one. But just know that I’m really sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” he countered quickly, straightening up and sending me a cold glare.

“What do you mean?” I snapped suddenly, “I’m trying to apologize to you, Grant.”

“You wanted to spend time with Patrick and you did. You didn’t think about what I was going to do.”

I straightened up at his snarky attitude, “I wasn’t just thinking about me, Grant. I sent you a text.”

He scoffed, “Yeah, telling me to go home.”

I raised my hands in defense, “I didn’t want you to sit alone.”

“Yeah, thanks for thinking of me,” he voiced dripped with sarcasm, “But that doesn’t change the fact that you abandoned me for some other guy.”

I stood up at his harshness, “Pat’s my bestfriend, Grant. He’s not just some other guy.” Standing up too quickly and being riled up by the argument caused the effect of alcohol to intensify suddenly. My speech was somewhat garbled and my feet were unsteady, causing me to sway.

After a moment, Grant stood up next to me and towered over my short frame. His blue eyes darkened considerably and were narrowed towards my own, “Are you drunk?”

I merely nodded in response.

“Let’s have this conversation when you’re sober, Allie. Alright?” he pushed past me, making his way out of the room.

♢♢♢♢

A large crash sounded from beside my head, causing me to shoot up immediately. I was sprawled across my outdoor couch, a newly shattered vodka bottle had just rolled off of the table next to me, and an empty Jack Daniel’s bottle rested on the coffee table before me. I attempted to piece together the previous night, but it was only full of blurred memories and faces.

I pulled my phone out of the back pocket of my khakis and slide my thumb across the screen. Text notifications littered my screen and I quickly opened the string of new messages.

Allie Barnes (12:32 AM): Hey, I just left your house. I couldn’t just leave Grant with my parents. Call me in the morning!
Erica Kane (1:08 AM): Drink and ditch. Classy ass mofo. Call me when you’re not dying from a hangover ;)
Mike Raut (1:36 AM): YOOO! I’m boutta tap PK’s sister ;) wish me luck
Mike Raut (1:37 AM): Shit. Sorry, Pat.
Erica Kane (1:45 AM): Control your friends. They’re gross.
Allie Barnes (10:12 AM): Call me when you’re awake please :)

I quickly dialed Allie’s number.

“Hey!” she answered excitedly before laughing quietly, “Oh! Sorry, was that too loud?”

I cringed at the sharpness of the laugh that followed her question, “Just a little.”

She giggled again, “Sorry, P.”

“It’s alright,” I shrugged, even though she couldn’t see me. “Drinking myself to oblivion probably wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had. I deserve it.”

She made a light humming noise, agreeing with my statement. Though Allie enjoyed partying with me most nights, she always reprimanded me for my poor decisions in the morning.

“So what’s this proposal you have for me?” I asked suspiciously, bracing myself for whatever Allie wanted me to do for her.

“Oh!” she quipped excitedly, “I almost forgot!”

“Just lay it on me, Al.”

She groaned, “Don’t be such a drama queen. Grant and I are going into the city today for lunch and he wanted me to invite you. He—uh—really wants to meet you.”

I groaned inwardly. I definitely did not want to be spending my Sunday afternoon with the lovebirds, especially since Grant probably hated my guts. I had badmouthed his girlfriend after he slept with her; and I stole Allie from him the previous night, only to have her return in the early hours of the morning obviously drunk. I definitely wasn’t on his good side.

“The things I do for you,” I sighed dramatically.

She let out a happy squeak, “Thanks, P! We’ll pick you up in like 10 minutes, okay?”

“Alright,” I agreed, “See ya.”

After hanging up the phone, I scrambled off of my couch and made my way into my house. I peeled off my suit from the night before and hopped in the shower, scrubbing away the dirt and grim that always accompanied the all too familiar hangover. Stepping out, I snatched up some clothes from my bedroom floor—a pair of khaki shorts and a simple t-shirt—and quickly pulled them on.

As soon as I was slipping on my Sperry’s, the doorbell sounded throughout the house. The door opened and closed and Allie’s voice rang out, “Pat! You ready?”

Instead of answering, I simply slipped in the hallway and followed her voice into the front foyer. She looked at my appearance, giving me a quick once-over, and smirked, “Just get out of bed?”

I scoffed playfully, “Maybe. How would you know?”

A small giggled slipped through her lips and she threw her head back, tossing her shiny hair over her shoulders. I offered her a cheeky grin and followed her obediently outside.

Once outside, my eyes landed on the car parked in my driveway, a rental that Allie had picked up at the airport. Grant stood outside of it, his arms crossed tersely in front of his chest and a tight smile spread across his lips. He didn’t look too happy.

“Grant!” Allie called excitedly, skipping over to him and placing her arm around his waist, “This is Pat.” Untucking one of hands, he extended it towards me. I grasped unsurely and gave it a firm shake—though it wasn’t as strong as his vice-like grip.

“Nice to finally meet you,” I smiled politely.

“You, too,” he agreed. “It’s nice to finally meet the famous Patrick; you’re all Allie talks about.”

I shifted my gaze to Allie, whose cheeks had suddenly become a shade darker. “Only good things I hope,” I laughed, shifting my gaze back to him. However, Grant’s smile faltered slightly, causing me to remember the events that had transpired over the previous weeks. Allie and I had made up less than 24 hours prior. Which meant that everything Allie said about me before this trip had probably been unflattering. I mentally slapped a hand against my forehead.

Grant reached a hand behind his neck and rubbed it awkwardly, “Yeah, don’t worry.”

Sensing the tension, Allie clapped with fake excitement and bounced on the balls of her feet, “Let’s get going, boys!” She slipped around the front of the car and hopped into the passenger seat, flipping on the radio and immediately turning to her favored station—country. Grant followed suit and slipped into the driver’s seat, turning on the engine.

I groaned as I slid into the backseat of the car, “Oh god, no! Al, turn it off!” I reached forward for the dial, but Allie simply smacked my hand out of the air.

She turned in her seat and pointed a stern finger at me, “You’re the only American hockey player in practically the entire NHL and you can’t even support your country’s form of music. Such a disgrace; might as well be Canadian.” She shook her head playfully and turned back around in her seat, spinning the dial and increasing the volume of the music. Though constrained by the seatbelt of the car, she danced wildly to the upbeat rhythm and mouthed along to the words.

Without warning, she flicked the dial to another country station. She squealed quietly and then turned towards me in her chair, singing along to the Luke Bryan song, “Baby you can crash my party anytime. Ain’t a spot downtown that’s rockin’ the way that you rock me. Ain’t a bar that can make me buzz the way that you do.” The music was extremely loud, but her voice floated clearly above it, hitting all notes perfectly and effortlessly. A large grin broke out across my face as I watched her sing the rest of the song.

As the background music started to wan, she let out a musical laugh and tossed her hair over her shoulder, spinning back around in her seat. At that moment, I glanced over at Grant. His hands clenched the wheel aggressively and his knuckles were beginning to turn white. His eyes were trained obediently on the road, but it was obvious that he had watched us in the rearview mirror.

Oblivious of his anger, Allie turned down the music from its loud volume and turned to me again, “I forgot to tell you what we’re doing today.”

I nodded, my gaze still partially on Grant’s clenched fists, “What’s the plan?”

“Dinner at Oliver’s and then we’re going to head over to Lux. We’re gonna show Grant the nightlife of Buffalo,” she grinned widely and sent me a wink, “We’ll show him how it’s done, if he can keep up.”

Grant rolled his eyes at her, “You act like I’ve never been clubbing before.”

“You’ve never been clubbing with us before,” she clarified, giving him a playful shove, “I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

He laughed lightly and turned his eyes back to the road, as we were entering the city of Buffalo.