All I'll Ever Need

Suzie wasn’t as easy to let go what happened as Matty was. On any normal occasion, Matty would’ve been livid and wouldn’t have forgiven me until weeks after everything was taken care of. This time, however, he was a bit star struck.

I was driving Sidney Crosby’s Range Rover, and Sidney Crosby gave me his phone number.

It wasn’t as big of a deal to me as it was Matty. Sure, he was attractive—undeniably so—but he was just a hockey player who everyone in Pittsburgh idolized. I didn’t really even know if he was that good because I didn’t keep up with hockey.

Well, alright. I had heard all the tales of Sidney Crosby from both Pens fans and non-Pens fans. Some were scared of him; others thought he was a crybaby. Pens fans had nothing but wonderful things to say about their captain, so the general consensus I gathered was that he was pretty damn good.

Suzie didn’t really question it when I asked her to get Chuck to tow my car. She figured, hey, some asshole hit me, and I needed her to tow me and give me a lift.

She didn’t expect me to be waiting in a Range Rover with no cops, no other drivers.

She hopped out of Chuck’s oversized truck and walked over to me with raised eyebrows. “Um, you wanna explain?”

“Not really,” I muttered. “Some asshole ran that stop sign over there and hit me.”

“And where is said asshole?” she asked. “Or the cops?”

“The cops are all over the city, and said asshole is in Russia . . . .”

Her eyes widened. “WHAT?!”

Chuck got out of the truck now and looked as confused as Suzie, but he was in no position to try and tell me anything. He and I were already on thin ice after he bruised Suzie’s jaw those some odd months ago, and I still hadn’t learned to trust him yet—probably never would.

“It’s probably totaled, so I’m thinking I’ll just have to figure out a way to get it to the junkyard,” I sighed. “Maybe hold onto it for parts? The guy’s buying me a replacement.”

Suzie snorted. “Yeah because he’s here right now.”

“He’s not gonna bail on this, Suz, trust me,” I scoffed.

“Just because he gave you some fancy SUV while he’s out of town doesn’t mean he’s not gonna pull something stupid, like report it stolen or some shit like that!” she exclaimed. “Come on, Mika! I thought you were smarter than this!”

“Suzie, cops were called, and he told them it was his fault,” I assured her. “I have his number, his car, and a shit ton of cash to hold onto until he gets back from Russia.”

“Why the hell is he even in Russia?” she grumbled.

“He’s on a, erm, business trip?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Stop bullshitting me.”

“Fine, fine,” I said. “The reason I know he’s not going anywhere is because right now, he’s kinda at the Olympics, and when he’s not . . . he’s the captain of the Pittsburg Penguins.”

While Suzie’s eyes widened, Chuck let out a laugh and pressed his hand up against the side of the Range Rover. “Damn, Mika! This is Sidney Crosby’s car?!”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes. Now shut the hell up before you inform the entire neighborhood. I’m trying to keep this on the—” My phone ringing from the passenger’s seat cut me off. Suzie and Chuck knew that if my phone rang, more times than not, I had to answer it.

This was one of those times. It was Sidney.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” the cheerful Canadian voice of none other than Sidney said. “Mika . . . that’s an interesting name.”

“So is Sidney Crosby,” I informed him.

He laughed. “Ah, so you finally figured out where Sochi is?”

“Only because I got home and my brother had a come apart when he realized who you were and I didn’t,” I said.

When he laughed this time, it was much fuller, happier. It didn’t seemed forced with him, which was relaxing to me. Someone who was genuinely happy . . . . “Look, I think we got off to a rough start. I’m sorry. It was mostly my fault.”

“Mostly?”

“Alright,” he said through what sounded like a smile. “I’ll take eight-seven percent of the blame.”

Even though he couldn’t see it, my mouth fell open a little. “Why eighty-seven? You were the ass hat first.”

“Come on, Mika,” he snorted. “I was late for my flight to the Olympics. That’s not right. I’m not allowed to be late for that.”

I didn’t know why I was willing to surrender so easily, but I felt like it was a losing battle anyways. So, with a glare sent down to my feet, I said, “Fine.”

Suzie still didn’t look sure of what was going on, but she tilted her head towards the car. “We’re gonna get it loaded. You should get on home. You’ve gotta take Matty to his appointment by ten thirty.”

“Eleven, thank you,” I groaned. “You sure you’ve got this?”

“What?” Sidney asked.

“We’ve got it,” Suzie assured me. “Get on home. Don’t stay up too late.”

Normally, I would’ve made a comment about how much she sounded like a mother, but I felt bad about being on the phone having another conversation. So, I mouthed a thank you and climbed back into the Range Rover.

“There we go,” I sighed. “I, uh, had a couple friends helping me move my car.”

Sidney let out a nervous chuckle. “Uh, yeah. Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright,” I said. “I mean, it’s not like you did it on purpose. You were stupid, but everyone’s stupid at some point.”

“So it didn’t hurt you at all?”

I pressed my lips together. “I’m a little stiff and sore, but it’s nothing I haven’t had before.”

“So, was class good?”

The fact that he remembered he dropped me off at class wasn’t strange, but to me, the fact that he asked about it was. I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, so I just answered. “It was fine.”

“The weather’s nice here in Sochi,” he said. “It reminds me of home.”

Despite my confusion, I caught the small talk immediately. One of my pet peeves was, in fact, small talk.

Maybe it was because I was cynical. It’s what many people told me, to be honest, but I found small talk to be boring and a waste of time. What’s the point in talking to someone if you’re not learning anything about them?

I suppose mentioning how the weather reminded him of home was something—he liked cold weather—but it was just a waste of time.

“I’m not interested in small talk,” I informed him. “It wastes time, and as I’ve discovered, time is precious.”

To my surprise, he didn’t find my statement cynical at all. As a matter of fact, he laughed about it. “Alright. What do you have in mind?”

The questions poured out of my mouth before I could even think to stop them. “What was your childhood like? What about your parents? Have any siblings? You afraid of death? You believe in an afterlife? What kinda movies do you like? Do you have a favorite movie? How about music? What’s your favorite artist or band? Even those you’re afraid to admit out-loud.”

A breath came out before anything else, and I heard some fumbling for words. But then, his answers came out so smoothly, as if not much thought had to go into them. “My childhood was hockey. My parents are great. I have a sister. I really don’t like to think about death. It’s kinda one of those things I try to avoid because I focus on living my life, not waiting for it to end. And I’d like to think there’s an afterlife. I mean, if there’s not, does any of this really matter? Movies like Rocky would mean nothing. I don’t really have a favorite band, but 3 Doors Down or Foo Fighters are good. I’m into lots of music. I don’t really have any bands that I like that I’m ashamed to admit, but the guys sometimes make fun of me for listening to Bon Jovi. Now, your turn. No small talk. Go.”

I had to pause for a minute to process all his answers, and when I did, a shaky breath pushed out of my nose into the receiver. “Uh, you don’t wanna know the answers to my questions.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t wanna know.”

“You’re such a happy person, Sidney,” I said. “My life isn’t happy. Nothing about it could possibly make you happy.”

The ten minutes we had talked, in total, were kinda reflective of how happy he seemed to be. Sure, he was in a rush and angry when he crashed into me, but he gave me his car and a thousand dollars to keep while he was gone. He trusted me without question, and now? He was laughing about everything, and his laugh . . . I found it to be mind-numbingly adorable. It wasn’t perfect and husky. To be honest, it didn’t sound like a grown man laughing, but it was. He was laughing because he was happy.

“That’s not true,” he said. “You’re alive, right?”

“Barely.”

“But you’re alive,” he insisted, and there was a determination to his tone that I didn’t dare argue. “That makes me happy.”

I didn’t even know how to respond, so I didn’t. I kept my eyes on the road and tried my best to focus on the task at hand, which was surprisingly hard to do . . . considering Sidney Crosby just told me my living made him happy.

“Now come on!” he laughed. “Answers.”

“I . . . didn’t have a good childhood,” I admitted. “My mom’s dead, and my dad’s dying. I have a brother, probably the best brother in the world.”

“Not possible,” he said through a laugh. “I’m the best brother in the world.”

I shook my head. “Impossible. You can’t beat Matty.”

And he laughed again, which just went on to further prove my “happy” point. Sidney Crosby was a happy individual, and anyone who said different was wrong. All they did was watch hockey games and assume they knew everything about him.

“Alright, alright,” he said. “I’ll let this one slide. Continue?”

I had to take a deep breath and think back to where I was—my family. “I’m not scared of death. Right now, death would almost be like relief. And if there is an afterlife, I’m going straight to hell. So sometimes, I like to think that maybe none of this matters.”

“I don’t see how you could be going to hell,” he protested. “That doesn’t make sense in my head.”

“You don’t know much about me.”

“So?” he scoffed. “You’re beautiful, Mika, and you seem like a good person.”

“The devil is beautiful,” I informed him. It was a fact I had come across years ago and could never escape. Though I didn’t find myself beautiful, people occasionally did, and when they told me, that always came to mind. “He was God’s favorite angel.”

Sidney snorted. “You saying you think you’re the devil?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I muttered.

“So there you go,” he said. “Now, continue.”

My lips quirked to the side as I fought back an argument. We didn’t know each other well enough to get into this discussion yet, so it was best to contain it. “I love the Boondock Saints and might actually cry if they don’t make a third. The way they ended the second kinda means they have to. It’s hard to pick a favorite band, but I’d say Paramore. Maybe Panic! At the Disco. My secret band that’s not really a huge secret? One Direction.”

He laughed so hard the moment I got the words out. It took him a minute to regain his composure because he lost his breath. “Oh, no. We can’t be friends, Mika. We just can’t.”

His laugh was infectious. I wasn’t a laugher, but something about his laugh kinda punched me in the face and brought a giggle out of me. A fucking giggle.

“Oh so that’s what we are?” I asked. “I thought I was just giving you your car back since you destroyed mine.”

“Hey,” he protested. “I told you some seriously personal shit, man. That makes it required for us to be friends.”

I could feel my eyes uselessly tighten, but a smile pulled across my lips anyways. “We’ll see.”

He let out a much softer laugh this time. “When’s your birthday?”

“August seventh.”

“No way!” he exclaimed, and my eyes widened. “Mine too! I was born in ‘87.”

“I was born in ’91,” I laughed, and about that time, I pulled into my driveway. Even though I turned the Range Rover off, I didn’t get out. The warmth was contained, so I was good for another five, maybe ten minutes.

“So you’re twenty-two?” he asked. “Aw. How cute. Barely able to drink.”

My eyes narrowed. “And you’re almost thirty.”

“Hey now,” he protested. “Let’s not pull the old man card.”

“And here I thought I was gonna help the elderly cross the street,” I sighed.

“You bitch,” he said, but there was no bit of seriousness in his voice or laugh. “You just went there.”

I smirked a little. “Convinced I’m a fallen angel yet?”

“Not even a little.”