Boston Garden High School

"What up?" Patrice said to Zdeno after the school day was over. "Heard Tuke got into some trouble with the cops."
"You should ask Krech and Quaider about that one." Zdeno said, shaking his head. "They found him on Cambridge Street in handcuffs at the side of the street, being interrogated by a cop."
"Why?"
"Apparently someone thought he murdered someone else." Zdeno pulled out his iPhone and typed in the code to unlock it. "I got the text right here. It's the last one from Tuukka." He handed his phone to Patrice as they walked out of the building.
"Christ, Z." Patrice was at a loss for words as he gave the phone back to Zdeno.
"Damn, don't I know it." Zdeno said, pocketing his phone. "So I hear your big brother's coming with us to see TMNT tonight."
"Yeah, Looch and Marchy thought I should invite him. Is Savvy coming, or..."
Zdeno's eyes darted back and forth as he looked for any signs of Marc. "No. And don't invite him either. He'll just go on a rant about how there's no point and how much his life is ruined since his accident. Goddammit, I love the guy, but he's a bit... Off."
"I've suffered through post-concussion syndrome and it's not nice. He just needs understanding, Z."
"What? When...?
"Remember back in 2007, when I fell off that ladder?" Now that he had been prompted, of course Zdeno remembered it. Patrice and former teacher Tim Thomas-before he took a sabbatical and got replaced-were decorating the hallways for Halloween. They had dome most of the school and were decorating the Maths block. There was an almighty crash and the teachers left their classrooms to investigate. When Zdeno left his, he found Patrice lying motionless on the floor, his face caked in blood. Zdeno rushed over to check if he was alright and demanded from former teacher Andrew Ference to call an ambulance as he did CPR. Paramedics brought the unconscious Patrice to Mass General, where he lay in intensive care for a few days. Turns out he had a fractured skull and a broken nose. When Patrice seemed to be getting better, he took a turn for the worse and everything bothered him. He was diagnosed with post-concussion syndrome and feared he'd never work again. He bounced back the next academic year, but Zdeno has desperately tried to block out that memory ever since. Nobody wants to have to desperately try to resuscitate their good friend.
"Z?" Patrice said. "Yo! Z!" Zdeno was still unresponsive. "Zdeno Chara! Earth to Zdeno! Do you read me?!" Patrice took out his iPhone and text Zdeno. Zdeno took out his phone and saw a text from Patrice. He looked down at the smiling French Canadian by his side.
"Sorry, Bergy. I was..."
"Thinking about my accident, I know." Patrice said. "I don't remember it, but you do. You should see someone about it, it seems to be really bothering you."
"Nah, I'm fine." Zdeno shook his head as they both entered the teacher's parking lot. "Kick Ass at quarter to seven?" Patrice nodded. "Damn right I'll be there." Zdeno opened the door of his silver Ford and climbed inside. It was a lot easier getting inside a car when he was the one not driving. Because of his height, everything was so uncomfortable. It was like being crushed inside that blasted rooster ride at Canobie Lake Park.
Patrice, on the other hand, was well at home in his dark green Jeep. It was suitable for his size. He opened the glove compartment and pulled out a photo of himself and his wife on their wedding day. He laughed at how elegant his wife looked in her flowing white gown while he stood by her side wearing a suit, but with his arm in a sling. That made the first dance rather awkward... Sure, he was accident prone, but he wasn't going to change, rather he accepted it. Patrice put the photo back, adjusted the rear view mirror and drove back home.
When he arrived, he entered his house not knowing if his wife would be there. She was.
"Salut, Stephanie. J'su retour." Patrice said, taking off his black jacket and putting it on the coat rack (Hey, Stephanie. I'm back).
"Comment votre jour aller?" Stephanie called back from the kitchen (How was your day?).
"Bien. Je sais." (Alright. I think.)
"Ah. Très bon." Stephanie emerged from the kitchen and Patrice wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a hug.
"Stephanie, moi et le gars... Nous somme sortir cette nuit. Nous somme aller vois Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Guill va trop aussi." Patrice said, still hugging his wife (Stephanie, me and the guys... We're going out tonight. We're going to see Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Guill is coming too).
"J'ne m'inquiète pas, Pat. Vous êtes les deux grandes personnes. Je n'aime pas ce que vous faites aussi longtemps que ce n'est pas la drogue ou la prostitution." Stephanie said, smiling as she pulled away from Patrice's hug (I don't care, Pat. You're both grown ups. I don't care what you do as long as it's not drugs or prostitutes).
"Merci, ma chère." Patrice kissed Stephanie softly on the head (thank you, my love).
"Patrice!" She giggled as she trotted back into the kitchen. Patrice craned his neck to see if Stephanie had gone back into the kitchen and took his iPhone from his pocket. He punched in his passcode and sent a mass text to Milan, Brad, Zdeno, Johnny, Torey, Tuukka, Greg, David, Adam, Daniel, Chris, Matt and Jordan about the plans for the movie. He wanted to text the rookies, but he didn't know any of their numbers. He figured they'll join in the next Mass Movie Night. Almost immediately he had a text back from Brad that read 'can't go tonight, got a fight. I'll go next time :)' and another from Tuukka that read 'Jas mad I got in trouble with cops. Have to forfeit. Sorry bro.' The rest of the texts Patrice received were 'yes!' 'Can't wait bro' and 'awesome plans can't wait' worded different for each of the guys. He didn't receive one from Jordan, so he figured Jordan wouldn't be coming.
***
After the movie-which everybody but Chris could take or leave-most people decided to go home to their families, however Milan, David and Torey stuck around for the 'after-party'. They and Patrice trawled the bars down Boylston Street. Their first stop, Jerry Remy's. There was a game between the Red Sox and the Orioles going on around the corner at Fenway Park so that's primarily what was showing on the TV screens there. The Red Sox won that game, two to one thanks to a two run triple from Yoenis Cespedes. Chants of 'screw the O's!' broke out and the four men found themselves chanting it as well as they left the bar, quite drunk, and the four walked-staggered-down Boylston Street.
"Whoo! That game was freaking electric!" Torey shouted.
"That. Was. Amazing! Clay Buchholz is a beast, yo!" Milan screamed and then ripped his shirt.
"PEDROIA!" David took his phone out of his pocket and threw it on the floor.
"Krech, dude, you're drunk. You're gonna have to get... Get a new phone." Patrice slurred.
"You're drunk too!" Torey suddenly burst out laughing.
"I've had three..." Patrice began.
"And the rest!" Milan said loudly, causing Torey and David to chuckle loudly.
"... I can handle more!"
"So where to now?"
"We'll, it's half ten." Milan said, looking at his watch.
"The night's still young." David reasoned. "Let's go to the main part of Boylston and drink there!" The four men cheered at David's idea.
"What's the first bar?"
"Dillon's. Then it's... Cactus Club and after that... Uh... McGreevey's." Milan said, stumbling through the words.
"Oh McGreevey's! I go there all the time!" Patrice said, throwing his hands in the air.
The four then started babbling on about how great the game was, how amazing Clay Buchholz pitched and how much the Yankees suck, even though the Yankees series ended four days ago. Suddenly, Milan lost his footing and fell over.
"I'm gonna call a cab, I don't trust us to walk that far in our state" He said.
"If you're so drunk, then go home! It's only half an hour away!" David said.
"No it's more like 20 minutes away." Patrice said.
"Dude, we're almost there." Torey said. "It took us quarter of an hour."
"What? We're there already?" Patrice asked with a look of disbelief on his face.
"Dillon's, yeah." Milan pointed at the sign above the bar
"Screw Dillon's, I'm gonna McGreevey's. That place is always electric after a Red Sox win." Patrice carried on walking with David and Torey following. Milan paused for a few seconds, then ran after them.
"I already pushed the button, Looch." Patrice said, leaning on the traffic light.
"You know what would be fun?" Torey said, suppressing his laugher. "We just walk. Like straight ahead."
"Dude!" David shouted "Ya outta your mind? The hand says no!"
"Screw the hand! It's almost 11 at night!" Torey ran out into the road and David ran out after him. Cars honked their horns for them to get out of the way or be squashed in the road. The hand soon turned green and Milan and Patrice followed them safely across.
"Hey, Bergy?"
"Yeah Looch?"
"How did they cross safely the main road getting here?"
"I don't know. I don't remember... Going."
"You're so drunk!"
"I know! Don't tell the others!" Patrice and Milan laughed hysterically.
"Cactus Club! Cactus Club!" David jumped up and down flapping his hands as if he were a small child.
"Yeah! Let's go!" Torey said, joining David in the jumping and hand flapping.
"McGreevey's..."
"Aww, Bergy! We'll catch you up!" Milan shouted as he, Torey and David ran in through the entrance. Their intention was to have one drink. That one drink, however, turned to two, which turned to three and then four and by the time they left the bar, not only was it half past eleven, but they had forgotten about Patrice and were even more wasted.
"Aww! Shit!" Milan slurred.
"What-what is it... Looch?" Torey asked, setting down his drink.
"We forgot about Bergy!" Milan whispered, rather loudly.
"Oh!" David exclaimed, pulling out his wallet.
"Dude... What?" Milan asked.
"We need pay... Go... Patty... Money."
"You're drunk." Torey laughed.
"Your... Ass."
"That don't make sense."
"Neither... Neither does your... Ass."
"Okay, Krech, you pay. Torey and I... We go to McGreevey's now come on Krug."
Milan and Torey swiftly exited the bar and tried to run down to McGreevey's to catch Patrice. Milan however, lost balance and veered to the right before tripping up and falling down for the second time that night.
"Oh Looch! Are you okay?" Torey tried to help Milan up, but instead got pulled down himself. They hadn't got further than about 20 yards. David emerged from the bar after paying and saw Milan and Torey in a giggling heap on the sidewalk.
"Guys... What hell?"
"He fell!" Torey said and he and Milan burst into hysterical laughter.
"Left for Bergy!" David said angrily as he helped his two drunken friends up off the sidewalk. They carried on walking down to McGreevey's.
"Bergy's gonna be mad." Milan said seriously, before bursting into spontaneous laughter. Torey and David joined in.
"I spy with my little eye, something beginning with... D!" Torey said, giggling.
"Uh... Drunk?" Milan suggested. Torey shook his head.
"Debris?" David asked, noticing the golden leaves beginning to fall on the ground from the trees.
"Uh... No." Torey said, again shaking his head.
"Where's Bergy's brother?" Milan asked out the blue.
"Don't know. Do you give up?" Milan and David nodded and Patrice pointed at David. "David Krejci!"
"Dude, I think we've gone too far." Milan said, looking up at the sign for the next bar. But it wasn't a bar, it was a Staples.
"Dude, yeah. We need to go back... Uh... That way." Torey said, pointing the way they came. "It's like... A minute that way I think." They began walking the way they came.
"Dude, how did we miss it?" Milan asked.
"No pay attention." David slurred.
"Guys, it's here." Torey said and opened the door to the bar. When they got in, there was a lot of rowdy drunk people, a lot of mentions of Red Sox and a lot of TV screens, most of which were showing NESN.
"Hi, welcome to McGreevey's, can I get you a table..." A young waitress asked.
"Uh... We... Friend." David stuttered.
"Yeah, he looks like a Disney prince and he has dark brown hair." Milan said.
The waitress looked at them oddly. "I'll see what I can do." She walked off and talked with another waitress.
"I don't like the music." Torey said.
"Where good music?!" David whined.
"I kinda like it." Milan said. "It's the Dropkick Murphys."
"Guys, we gotta go!" Patrice said, rushing up to his friends. "Like pronto." Patricepushed Milan, Patrice and David out the door of the bar.
"What happen?" David asked.
"Something that means I'll probably never be able to go here ever again." Patrice said as the four carried on down Boylston Street.
"Patrice..." Milan said in a warning tone.
"I clogged Ken Casey's toilet, now can we go?" Patrice said as his face turned bright red.
"Ken Casey? The hell's that?" Torey asked.
"Dropkick Murphys bassist." Milan said to Torey. "And Bergy, it's not HIS toilet." He said to Patrice as they passed Staples once more.
"It IS his toilet, he owns the place... How are you so much more drunk than I am?"
"How did YOU clog that toilet?" Milan asked.
"I... Took a shit?" Patrice said as they crossed the road, not knowing what Milan expected him to say. "So how are you drunker than I am?"
"More drink." David said and he suddenly vomited on the sidewalk outside Whiskey's.
"Oh Krech, man. That's... Wrong." Patrice turned his head away, disgusted.
They carried on up to Walgreens-which was only a short distance away-not saying anything. By the time they walked past Chili Duck next door, they seemed to have forgotten all about David drunkenly vomiting on the sidewalk less than a block away.
"Hey guys!" Patrice said. "Why did Richie Incognito cross the road?"
"I don't know." Milan said.
"Because he was Richie INCOGNITO!" Patrice said with special emphasis on the 'incognito' and everyone burst out laughing.
"You hear about Tuke?" David asked, vomit still in the corner of his mouth.
"Yeah, he... What?" Torey said as he burst out into hysterical laughter.
"Tuke arrested. Quaider me bail out!" Everyone laughed again as they waited to cross the road without realizing this crosswalk had no traffic lights.
"Shall we just cross?" Patrice asked after five minutes of silent waiting.
"No! Traffic wait!" David said, pulling Patrice back from the road.
"No! No traffic lights!" Patrice pointed to the distinct lack of traffic lights.
"Oh. Shall we... Just walk?" Patrice said. And as if on cue, everyone crossed the road. Milan tripped up onto the sidewalk and fell over for a third time, but was helped up by Shawn.
"So there was a guy in the NBA back in the late 90's..." Patrice started snickering. "And his name... Was God Shammgod!" That sent everyone into hysterics once again.
"That's funny, even if you're NOT drunk!" Torey bellowed out.
"I'll tell you ANOTHER good joke then..." Milan began. "The 2013 New York Yankees!" They laughed until they reached Starbucks and Milan rattled off a list of why they suck, most of the list consisted of A-Rod and why he was able to play through a 211 game suspension, but the list went on until they reached the end of the block, with Torey, Patrice and David all contributing too.
"Guys, we just run!" Torey said once they reached the end of the sidewalk. "We run gaily across the road, like jaywalking!" Torey giggled like a little boy as he ran across the road. Milan, Patrice and David ran after him. They ran until they reached the Marathon finish line, just before which David abruptly stopped.
"Torey, buddy, you okay?" Milan asked as he put his hand on Milan's shoulder.
"How could they do that?!" Torey screamed as he flung himself on the finish line, crying. Milan, Patrice and David didn't know whether to laugh or not. What they were witnessing WAS pretty funny. A grown man rolling around in the middle of the road-drunk and crying. Never before had they seen such a wild emotional swing in Torey's behavior.
On the other hand, they looked around and saw... Nothing. No signs of the events that transpired nearly 18 months ago. It all seemed almost... Forgotten. Patrice sighed and pulled Torey from the road.
"Why'd he do that? It's stupid." Patrice shook his head as he dragged Torey back onto the sidewalk.
"Come on. We're going home." Milan said as they walked down to Copley station to take the subway back home. It was around midnight by now, so they'd make the last train home.
Once they were inside the subway station, they had a lot of weird stares from people. Torey was still crying hysterically and covered in dirt from rolling around on the road and David had vomit down his t-shirt from when he vomited not two blocks away, Milan's hands and knees were bloody from the times he fell over and Patrice's clothes were torn from trying to help Milan up, but falling over himself earlier in the night. They may have garnered a lot of attention, but these four men just wanted to get home.