All I'll Ever Need

It felt like a nightmare, what I had experienced earlier. The only reason I knew it was real was because sitting in class, I started feeling the real pain and the stiffness.

Then, of course, when I walked outside of class, there his dark Range Rover sat . . . waiting on me to get in.

People from my class knew the raggedy Jetta I drove, so some stared as I hopped into the large Range Rover. The front bumper was dented, but overall, it didn’t look bad.

The eyes on me made my cheeks burn. It didn’t matter what they thought—I hadn’t stolen this or anything, hadn’t gotten a boyfriend who gave it to me. Some asshole ran into me and left me his car while he went out of the country.

Or was Sochi in the country?

I didn’t really know the answer to that, and I suppose if we had to talk, I could ask. To try and forget all the people staring at me, I reached over and opened up the dash.

He was right about the cash. Even though it was zipped up in a small pouch, I could tell there was a bunch of it, or at least a bunch of bills.

And then, taped onto the bag was a business card. The name on the front said Stella Dupris, attorney.

Girlfriend? Wife?

I pulled it off the bag and noticed something on the back—a number scribbled down in pen. It didn’t match the number on the front, didn’t have a name with it at all.

Yet that’s the number I put into my cell phone under “Sidney” since that was all I knew him as. It was what he told the Chief of Police, and I assumed that was accurate.

He was probably still on his flight, depending on where Sochi was, so I sent him a text.

Hey, Sidney, it’s Mika . . . the girl from the wreck? I wasn’t sure where Sochi was, so here’s my number. Call me when you get the chance.

And I put my phone in the passenger’s seat, turned the car on, and headed home.

Usually, the ride home took about fifteen minutes. Class got out after the school traffic had cleared, so it was pretty much a straight shot home.

Today, it took thirty simply because I drove half the speed limit and stopped much slower than usual. The Range Rover was simple to drive, though much bigger than what I was used to, but I didn’t wanna take any chances.

What if I wrecked it? Would it be insured? Would I get arrested?

I didn’t know, and I didn’t wanna chance it, so I drove slow enough to piss everyone behind me off. They honked and screamed, but I didn’t care. I wanted to be safe.

Matty loved sitting outside on the porch, even in the winter. Dad always had it too hot or too cold, and sometimes, he needed to roll outside and sit.

So I wasn’t really that surprised when I found him sitting on the porch when I got home.

I hated seeing my brother in his state. It wasn’t that he was any less my brother or any less of a person, but seeing him confined to the wheelchair he was stuck in broke my heart. He had huge dreams, dreams of being in the NHL, drafted for the Pittsburgh Penguins, and as close as he got to his dream, they were snatched away from him.

Matty’s expression changed from the usual melancholy frown to a concerned and confused frown. Obviously he didn’t recognize the car, and he must not’ve seen me sitting in the driver’s seat.

When I fell out of the SUV, that just amplified his confusion and anxiety.

“Where’s your car?”

I groaned. “On the side of the road somewhere. I’ve gotta call Suzie and see if she can get Chuck to tow it for me. It’s probably totaled.”

His eyes widened. “Who’s car is that?”

“The moron who ran the stop sign and hit me,” I muttered. “Hell if I know. He was late for his flight, I was late for class, and somehow, I ended up with his number and car.”

“That’s really sketchy, Mika,” he said, and now, his confusion melted into a frown. “Did you get any of his information?”

“I have his first name and cell phone number, and I know he’s friends with the Chief of Police,” I shrugged. “A policeman took him to the airport after he dropped me off at class and left me his car with a thousand dollars for repairs to his car and medical expenses, should I need to go to the doctor.”

“What if he’s in a gang or something, and he’s gonna have his crew come shoot us up and take it back?” he asked.

I had to stare at him for a few seconds and analyze his expression. A part of me thought that outlandish idea was just a joke, but the anxiety was back in his eyes. Matty didn’t joke about things that really worried him.

“He’s friends with the Chief of Police, not the head of a gang,” I reminded him. “I mean, he’s in Sochi or wherever for about a month, and then he’ll be back, and we’ll figure it all out. It’s gonna be fine, Matty.”

His eyes widened again, but this time, it wasn’t in alarm. It was complete shock.

“Sochi?” he whispered, and his eyes moved back towards the large Range Rover I was standing beside. “As in . . . Sochi, Russia?”

“I don’t know where the hell it is,” I said. “He just said Sochi.”

“What was his first name?”

“Sidney.”

Matty’s shock turned into an excited shock, one that turned his lips into a huge grin the moment I said it. “Holy fuck! This is Sidney Crosby’s car!”

I went into a state of shock as I looked back at the car. Though I was looking at it, that wasn’t what I was seeing. All I could see were the vague and rushed memories of the accident, of the attractive man that got me out of my car and left me his.

That was Sidney Crosby, captain of the Pittsburgh Penguins.

I didn’t watch hockey much. Dad hated watching it, so the only place to watch it was with Matty. As much as Matty still loved the game, I could see it hurt him to realize that he could’ve been out there, playing for whichever team drafted him.

Instead, he sat at home in his wheelchair wishing he could change everything.

At rehab, whenever he started to show signs that he might walk, he got discouraged when it wasn’t an immediate thing, and he lost all progress. Dad told him that he was weak, that he would never walk again. He would be my burden for the rest of our lives.

Of course that didn’t help him at all, and I stood up for him the best I could.

It’s harder than you’d think to yell at man on his deathbed, waiting for the AIDS to go ahead and kill him. No matter how terrible he was, no matter how mean and hateful he was, he was dying. Everything I said could be the last thing I ever said to him.

Not that I really cared if it was mean. All my dad had done all of our lives was create more problems than we needed.

I was sick of it, sick and tired of him kicking Matty while he was down. Matty would walk again, but he wasn’t gonna do it without more incentive.

He needed a push, and maybe if I was able to be at rehab with him, I could be that push. But I wasn’t due to conflicting class times. I was in my last year of the nursing program, and I needed to be finished as quickly as possible so that I could start making more money than what I got off tips at the diner down the street.

My mind went back to the things I said. The golden boy of Pittsburgh . . . I was so mean to him. I mean, it’s not like he didn’t deserve it. Sure, he was on his way to the Olympics, which was far more impressive than anything I would ever accomplish in my life, but that didn’t excuse totaling my car.

Matty was the first to overcome his shock. “How did you not know it was Sidney?!”

“I’m not as into hockey as you are!” I exclaimed. “I haven’t seen his face that much, and I was pissed! He ran a stop sign and totaled my car! I couldn’t be late for class!”

His eyes narrowed, though playfully, as he continued to stare at me. “Mmhmm. Feel stupid yet?”

“You’re a jackass,” I muttered, and after locking the Range Rover, I walked right past him and into the scorching living room.

Dad was, thankfully, bed ridden, so he didn’t ever have to know what happened. Who knew what he’d say if he did know?

“How could you be so stupid? Let some stranger just get away with destroying your car! He could file his car stolen, say it was you to blame! You’re an imbecile, just like your mother!”

Even just imagining what his reaction would be pissed me off, so I just walked back to my room and shut the door.

Maybe no one would bother me for the rest of the night.