Chapter fifteen

“Avery, get out of the goddamn car,” Emma snapped at me after 5 hours of driving that day and 8 the day before. Needless to say, we were both a little sick of each other’s company.

Emma somehow talked me into getting into my little 5-speed Soul with her and driving 12, let me emphasize that, TWELVE hours with her over 2 days, just to get to Raleigh to see Sidney. I don’t know. She said something about finding myself and living in the moment.

            The first day of driving wasn’t too bad, driving through cute little towns like Berkeley Springs in West Virginia. All I could think about was Radiator Springs from Cars, one of the best movies ever made by Pixar, let alone made. We stopped in Winchester, Virginia for some Taco Bell and continued on down through the rest of the state to Richmond where we spent the night in some cheap little hotel with homeless people living on the sidewalk outside it. The day was mostly filled with off-key singing and riding with the windows down, one of my favorite things to do with Emma, no one else.

            The day we made the trek all the way to Raleigh, we didn’t leave until around noon. The morning was spent doing constructive things of course, like Emma flirting with the concierge to try and get us free things. Once we got into North Carolina, we were flying. We only had one little hang up with the beltway. The numbers went from 4 straight to 327, which confused us a bit. We got ourselves back on the right track and eventually ended up at an Applebee’s five minutes from the arena around 5:15, two hours and fifteen minutes away from seeing Sidney play.

            Now, I was being banished from the car to go find a scalper with two tickets. I always hated those guys. They gave me the creeps. I always thought that when I pulled out my wallet to pay them, they’d grab it and run away laughing. And I always wondered who would go to the game and willingly sell their tickets. It always seemed like such an incredibly silly concept to me.

            “Two tickets,” some guy, whom I assumed was a scalper, with no front teeth said to me as I walked by. If I was going to buy these stupid tickets I wanted to do it from someone with teeth. I felt like I was doing a drug deal or something. After walking by at least three more toothless men, I found a decent looking guy with decent seats.

            “One hundred twenty dollars,” he barked at me, making me jump a little. I grabbed my wallet out of my purse and pulled out the bills Emma and I had stuffed in there the night before. I handed him what he asked for, took my tickets and speed-walked back in the general direction of where I had come from. I pulled out my phone on the way and called Emma, trying to see where she ended up.

            “Did you get them?!” she shrieked into the phone without even saying hello. People were running everywhere and some guy had a Penguins flag he was running around the parking lots with. He ran up to me and gave me a high five upon seeing my Crosby jersey. “Avery!? Don’t ignore me!” she yelled. Every time we’re put into a stressful situation, she basically has a freak out and starts getting nervous.

            “Calm down,” I reasoned with her. “I just had to high five some guy, and yes, I got the tickets.”

            “But you didn’t high five me!?” she shrieked, on the verge of hysteria.

            I was not doing this now. “Emma, I’m talking to you on the phone. I can’t high five you. I’m going to go wait for you in front of the entrance,” and with that, I hung up on her before she could complain some more.

            I stood there with our tickets, waiting for Emma, being jostled around by Hurricane fans and getting booed by complete strangers when I finally wondered why I was standing here in unseasonably humid weather waiting for my psycho friend. Yeah I wanted to be here and I wanted to see this game, but really? I could have just waited for Sidney to get home and accept the fact that he has some crazy pregame ritual. Just as I was about to start off to find the car and leave, having wasted one hundred and twenty dollars on tickets, Emma grabbed my arm from behind.

            “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” she snapped at me before pulling me back in line to get inside. Just looking at her reminded me of why I was here. She hadn’t convinced me to come down here; I had done it out of my own free will. I wanted to see Sidney and I wanted him to accept that I was going to be with him the rest of the playoffs. I wanted him to know that what I was feeling for him was more than just a fling. I didn’t do flings in the first place, but if I had to pick anyone to have a fling with, it’d be him.

            “Thanks Em,” I said, turning around to face the arena with her. We kept each other in line. I kept her from doing stupid things and she kept me from being a prude. For that, I love her.

            “Now where are our seats?” she asked, still slightly hysterical.

            “Well, I think they’re up near the top. At least that’s what the scalper said,” I reiterated, glancing down at the tickets in my hand that each had a picture of Eric Staal on them. I’d much rather have ones with Sidney on them, but beggars can’t be choosers. I shifted the tickets in my hand and shuffled forward in line.

            There were some crazy metal detectors inside the doors. It was like going through airport security. Who would want to bomb a hockey game? It’s only Raleigh anyway. They made us do the whole thing where you take everything out of your pockets, stick it in bins and shove it through an X-ray machine. I’ve never quite known what those things were called.

            On the other side of the metal detectors, some guy was handing out free towels that said “Woooo!” on one side accompanied by a Hurricane’s logo. He half-heartedly extended his arm to me to wordlessly ask if I wanted a towel. I shook my head no and kept walking.

            “Are they free?” I heard Emma ask when I was two or three paces ahead of her. I turned around to see her looking excited at the prospect of getting something for free. I stared at her like she was crazy and turned around, not wanting to be associated.

            “Avery look! I got a free towel!” she called after me as I began walking around the arena looking for our section. “Wait, look!” she yelled, waving the towel at me when I turned around to look at her. I couldn’t help but smile at her cheap self.

            We once went to the movies and she ordered a small popcorn. The guy working the counter asked her is she wanted to make it a large. Her reply? If you do it for free. He shrugged his shoulders and gave her a large popcorn for the price of a small. She wouldn’t let me have any of it.

            “I see it Emma, now let’s go find our seats,” I said, linking my arm through hers and guiding her around the curving arena. After walking up two more flights of stairs, we reached section 316, at the top of the arena, a little above the suites.

            “Let’s go down to the ice before all the players go back into the locker room,” Emma said, starting to walk away towards the stairs down. I grabbed her arm before she could get very far.

            “No, let’s stay here,” I said, sitting down and watching Sidney from afar.

            “But don’t you want to see the look on Sidney’s face when he knows you’re here?” she questioned, taking a step back towards me. I know she wanted to go down to the ice, and I was tempted to tell her to just go by herself.

            “I don’t want to freak him out and then have him do a shit job,” I stated, pulling her down into the chair next to mine. She seemed to understand, but sat there sulking until the game started, then it was a different story. She was standing and screaming and yelling at Carolina fans all before the Penguins even scored a goal.

The first goal of the game was scored by Matt Cullen of the Hurricanes, which shut Emma up pretty quickly, but only until Geno scored about two minutes later on a power play. She was up and screaming after that, and even got popcorn thrown on us at one point. Sure, I yelled when Geno scored, but I’m pretty sure I’ve never yelled louder in my life than when Sidney scored late in the first period to put them up 2-1.

            Pregame curse. Psh.

            The rest of the game seemed to crawl by. I just wanted it to be over and the Penguins to be 3-0 in the series, so I could go down and wait outside for like all the other creepy stalker people.

            The final horn sounded with a score of 6-2. I felt kind of bad for the Hurricanes, but not really. I wanted the Penguins to win the Stanley freaking Cup, and if barreling over the Hurricanes meant winning the cup, I was all for it. I looked at Emma who was red in the face and could barely talk. This is the definition of playoff hockey: driving 12 hours to see your favorite team pummel another, not being able to talk after said pummeling and waiting for the players after the game is over.

            “Let’s go Em,” I said, walking down the stairs towards the ice where Sidney was doing an interview with a blonde lady. I practically sprinted all the way down. If I could let him see me, maybe I wouldn’t have to stand in the heat and wait for him. Maybe he would pull me back into the locker room and give me a passionate kiss. I was just hoping I wouldn’t have to stand outside, and if he kissed me, that would just be a plus.

            I got all the way down there, just as he was finishing the interview. He glanced up at the people crowded around the entrance to the locker room to give them all high fives. When he got to Emma, who was panting, and myself, he paused for a second to try and take in the fact that I was standing there in front of him with my best friend. His eyes said it all. How are you here?

            “I’ll be right back,” he said only loud enough for me to hear before continuing on into the locker room.

            I looked after him and breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until that point, but just hearing him speak, and without an angry edge to his voice, made me relax. I stepped away from the railing and slouched down into the nearest chair to wait for him to come back.

            The kids that were crowded around began to disperse and Emma and I were left alone before long. None of the workers tried to clear us out; they just cleaned around us, and after what seemed like an eternity, Sidney emerged from the locker room without his pads and skates on.

            I didn’t get up. I was drained, emotionally and physically. Believe it or not, driving 5 hours, and screaming for your boyfriend who may or may not be mad at you is exhausting. He walked up the few stairs to me and pulled me out of my chair into a soft, sweaty hug before kissing me, like I was hoping for.

            “Pregame superstitions are dumb,” he said, resting his head on top of mine and wrapping his arms around my waist.

            I rested my head on his chest and breathed in the smell of dirt, sweat and water; not my favorite smell, but right then and there, it was. Everything felt so right. It felt like I was supposed to be there right then and there hugging him with Emma passed out asleep on the chair next to us. Everything was falling into place.

            “I love you,” I said softly, tightening my grip around his lean waist. He backed away for a second, and I thought he was going to run from the look in his eye, but instead, he surprised me and swept me off my feet, literally.

            “I’ve been waiting for you to say that for the longest time,” he said, looking at me with piercing eyes. I couldn’t help but look away and blush.

            “How long?” I asked breathlessly.

            “Since the day we went paint shopping,” he replied matter-of-factly. “Ever since I we went on that incline. Ever since we went to that coffee shop. You’ve always been what I want.”

            “Then why haven’t you said anything?” I asked, slightly ticked at him, even though he was holding me in the most romantic way possible.

            “If I said something first, you would have run. You would have been gone the next day and I wouldn’t have ever heard from you again. I needed to wait for you, and that’s what I did. Because I love you, Avery Jones,” he said kissing me. I reached up and pulled his head down closer to me. One hand around his neck keeping me from falling, and one in his sweaty hair. All I wanted was him at that moment. I wanted everything he had to offer, but he leaned back, forcing me out of the kiss, and leaving me wanting more.

            “And I also needed an interior designer,” he said, lowering me back towards the ground and lightly setting me on my feet. “If you had run, I’d have been left with an ugly house.”

            “Oh shut up,” I said, smacking him across the bicep.

            “Hurt your hand?” he asked me with a playful tone before leaning down to kiss me quickly. “I need to go. I told everyone I’d be back in five minutes. I’m pretty sure it’s been longer than that,” he stated, backing down the stairs towards the locker room. “I love you,” he said, a grin spreading across his boyish face. I was grinning myself. I couldn’t help it. I had a boyfriend I loved, and he loved me back. “On second thought,” he said, like he had just come up with it, “Come with me.”

            When I hesitated and looked back at Emma asleep in her chair, he came back up to me. “It’ll be quick. She’ll never know you’re gone.”

            “Okay, fine,” I said warmly, taking his warm hand in my cold one and walking down towards the locker room. “We’re going into the locker room?” I asked skeptically once we reached the door.

            “Yeah, don’t worry,” he breathed into my ear, making me melt, and putting me at his will. His breath on my ear had around the same effect as me having six drinks in an hour and a half. I was intoxicated.

            “Okay,” I managed before he opened the door for me and lead me through. Reporters were everywhere and once they saw I was holding hands with one Sidney Crosby, they were all around us.

            “Sidney! Sidney! Who is she!?” one reporter screamed at him, holding out a tape recorder.

            “Let me make a general announcement,” he began, putting his arm around my shoulders and pulling me towards him. I put my hand on his chest like those picture perfect couples do. “This girl, Avery Jones, is my girlfriend,” he said leaning down to kiss me softly. Flashbulbs went off all around me, but I couldn’t have cared less. Sidney was all that mattered to me at that moment; my world. He pulled away and looked at me with those hazel eyes. “I love you,” he breathed, intoxicating me again. That was the third time he’d said it in the last fifteen minutes, and every time, it was like the first time all over again. I was soaring, and miracle of all miracles, I loved him.