Chapter 3

I hurried to my seat, still in shock from what just occurred. I was clutching the pass he gave me like it was lifeline, and if I let go, I’d float away. When I got to my seat, a worried looking Melissa was waiting. “Where the *uck have you been?!” Always subtle and caring. “My knee freaked out and I went to the training room…” I explained. A wary look crossed her face and she knew I wasn’t telling her everything. “How’d you get there, huh?” “I, uh, walked?” “No you didn’t and you know it. Now tell me the truth, and don’t leave anything out!” “Well you know that huge crowd? Sidney Crosby was in the middle of it… and he carried me…?” Her mouth dropped open and she looked at me in disbelief. “Tell me. Now”, she demanded.
-
I told her everything that went down. The handsome facial features, the sexy butt… oh and the part about my knee. But who really cared about that anyway? I ended with the fact that I was going out with him after the game. Her face was great; disbelief and jealousy all in one. She always got the guy. Always. Even back in high school. We’ve been best friends forever and I was, and still am, the sidekick. The girl the ugly wingman got just because I was there, and now, I got one she wanted. Sweet revenge. She was my best friend, so I did feel bad, but really, I was going out with Sidney Crosby. I didn’t feel bad about that part. The game flew by and Melissa questioned me the whole time, like I was a murder-case suspect and she was asking me what my motives were. I pretended to be annoyed by it, but in actuality, I was smug with the jealous look on her face.
-
The game ended with the Penguins beating the Devils 4-1, and Sid managing a hat trick, only his second in his career I was told by an overzealous, overweight fan who was sporting a neon yellow afro wig and bulging jersey. I gave Melissa a hug and said goodbye. I could feel her eyes on my back, and I knew she was happy for me, but she just didn’t really know how to deal with someone else getting the guy this time. I made my way down towards the ice to ask for directions to the locker room from a kindly looking usher. I marveled at the enormity of the Mellon. It really was a masterpiece, and a miracle it was still standing. The usher pointed me in the direction of a door labeled with the ever so cliché words “Authorized Personnel Only!” As I stepped through these doors, another Mellon worker startled me saying “Hi there!” I was a little confused. “Uhh, hi.” “Sid told me to expect you Ms. Spade. He said he’d finish up early, just for you.” That really touched me; the fact that he was going to all this trouble to make my night better than how it started. “You can sit right over there and wait.” “Thanks for your help”, I replied with a smile. The worker walked away through the doors labeled “Penguins’ Locker Room” as I walked over to the bench he indicated and set my purse down. I sat next to it and tried to control my racing mind. “Oh my God, am I really here? I am doing this? Why would you let yourself do this?!” All these thoughts were racing through my mind as I waited on that lonely bench. For all I knew, he might not even show up and this was all some sort of cruel joke. I was shocked out of my worries with the touch of his hand on my shoulder. I looked up from where I was sitting and saw a badly paired suit, dress shirt, and Calvin Klein knitted hat. I couldn’t help but laugh a little. Sid looked around wondering what I was laughing at and asked, “What? Is something wrong?” Concern was spelled out across his face as I continued to laugh. Then, to my horror, Max Talbot and Eric Godard walked out of the locker room in even worse ensembles. Max had on an ugly, ill-fitting, pin-stripe suit with a gross puke colored dress shirt underneath it, and of all things these extremely well paid players could put themselves in, Eric chose a fire-engine red suit, a wonderful outfit that included a red jacket, and matching red pants. I didn’t even get a chance to look at what his dress shirt entailed; I was rolling with laughter by this time. Sid turned around to see his teammates and upon seeing them, stifled a laugh. They stopped and Max demanded, “What’s so funny?” “Nothing man, go home”, Sid managed. “Whatever dude, you’re in for it tomorrow though”, Max retorted. My laughs came with much less force and I was able to breathe normally again. “Really, you guys have horrible fashion sense, and it doesn’t help that you’re all together all the time. It probably just gets worse and worse!” Sid just smiled and shrugged. “To be honest, it’s not a priority.” “Oh really? I couldn’t tell…” I laughed a little more, but all the giggles were gone. “Now that we’re done making fun of my fashion sense, let’s get going shall we?”
-
We were driving down the street in his Range Rover when I remembered something important about today. “Hey Sid, you know it’s my birthday today?” “I’m sorry you had to almost kill yourself today”, he joked. It was extremely easy to talk to him. He was so nice and easy to talk to I almost told him my whole life story. “Since it is your birthday, we’ll have to do something even more fun than what I had planned.” “And what might that be?” I asked in the cutest tone I could muster. “Do you really think I could tell you that?” he chuckled. “You know, you didn’t have to do this for me. I just have to deal with a knee giving out at random moments until I have surgery.” “You have to have surgery?!” He almost ran through the divider in the highway. “Uh, yeah. It’s not really that big of a deal, just what I have to do if I want to play next year. I’ve accepted it as a fact of life now.” There was a pause for a minute, but it wasn’t one of those awkward silences. It was one of understanding and I could have sworn I felt a static in the air. His voice broke the silence, but I barely heard it since he was almost whispering. “How long is rehab?” “Six months.” There was the divider again. This obviously upset him. “Sid, are you alright?” This question seemed to be the question of the day today. “Yeah sure, it’s just I’ve never had surgery or anything requiring six months of rehab in my whole career, and here you are, in college, and you’ve done something I could never think as happening to me. It’s just amazing you’re strong enough to get through it, and you have this whole outlook on next year, and what’s happening then.” The look on his face said it all: He hoped anything like this was never going to happen to him, and I didn’t blame him. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, but I was going to try to make the best of the situation I was in. “We’re practically the same age Sid, and it’s really not as bad as you think, I mean, yeah, I was crushed when I found out I tore it and that my season was essentially over, but I have this whole new opportunity to come back even better than I was. I’ll be OK eventually.” He was silent and I reached for the hand of this boy I met hours ago. He turned towards me and returned the gesture by intertwining his fingers in mine.