Monday, March 29, 2010

63.) Waffles

Soundtrack Song - Pearl Jam, The Fixer

“I can’t believe it’s the ‘Superstar’s’ birthday, and this is all we’re doing,” Flower moaned, slumping in his seat. He held his arms out around him, gesturing to the surroundings. “Once a year, Véro gives me permission to have one wild night out like this, and we’re spending it here?”

I looked around us, not seeing what the big deal was. Sure, it wasn’t what I had been expecting either, but I wasn’t complaining about that. Talbot was friends with the owner of Bossa Nova, so he had the restaurant closed down for the night and invited tons of people to come down and celebrate with him. The drinks were flowing, and there was plenty of food, too. The music was pumping through the speakers, so we had to shout to hear each other. It wasn’t Blush, but the night still reeked of Talbot. I shrugged and mused, “Maybe he’s starting to settle down?” Crosby shot me a funny look. “Or at least, you know, isn’t so hyper and crazy anymore? He’s twenty-six now.”

“I think Heather and Kelsey threatened him,” Flower sighed. “They told him no strip clubs, or else they wouldn’t allow Gronk and Turbo to come out tonight. Those girls had to ruin it for the rest of us.”

Biting my tongue, I had to stop myself from laughing out loud. Marc-André Fleury was desperately in love with his girlfriend, and he never would have done anything to jeopardize their relationship. This was all talk, just to show the guys that he wasn’t as whipped as he seemed. Véro may have given her permission for Flower to have a wild night, but he’d never actually go through with it if he were given an opportunity.

Sidney shook his head and smiled as he took a sip from the glass in his hand. “See, that’s why I’m single.”

That time, I couldn’t hold back the snort. It erupted from me, and Flower chimed in with additional laughter as he said, “Yeah, uh huh. That’s it. It has nothing to do with the fact that any girl that comes within five feet of you freaks out and tries to rip the shirt off your back.” Sid blushed and Flower let the subject slide. “What about you, Tanger? Didn’t Jo have a problem with you coming out with us tonight?”

“Not at all,” I told them with a smile. It felt kind of good to have a girlfriend that was so relaxed about all this, especially after hearing the stories about the other guys’ girlfriends. I remembered exactly what happened this afternoon, after Jo had the brilliant idea to get a little creative with a can of Reddi-wip. We had showered to get rid of the sticky film all over our bodies, and then she once again insisted that I go out and have fun and forget about things for a night. “Jo practically pushed me out the door. In fact, she’ll probably be disappointed when she hears that this is all we did.”

My two teammates shook their heads; not in disbelief, but in amazement. But I was like Flower and wouldn’t take advantage of the chance to get a little crazy. That wasn’t me, but especially not when I had Jo waiting at home for me. I hoped she was doing okay back at the apartment. It was difficult to be an observer in everything she was dealing with, but I couldn’t be proactive and do anything to aid her. I tried to lay out a foundation for her to build off of, but she was the contractor. It was up to her.

And Jo was doing so good, and had been making great progress since she moved in with me in December. I’d never tell her that. Not again, anyway. The first time I did, she bitched at me for being patronizing. But it was true, even if she couldn’t see it herself. I was seeing all the itty bitty tiny baby steps. Jo would eventually see the journey when she could look back and see how far she had actually come.

The hardest part was the dream. It was painful to see her go through all that and not be able to do anything. How can I stop a dream? Well, I can’t. As much as I desperately wanted to, I couldn’t. I knew how hard it was to deal with dreams.

When I dreamt about Luc after his death, it was always the same one: he and I would be riding motorbikes or something, and I would somehow cut him off or cause his accident. It would be my fault, and he would tell me so with his last breath. The guilt had seeped into my waking life, too, and had haunted me all summer long. But eventually, the dream changed and the accident wasn’t my fault anymore. And then eventually, there was no accident; Luc just hopped on his bike and drove off into the proverbial sunset. After a long while, I stopped having that dream at all. Now when I dreamt about Luc, it was always positive and never had anything to do with his ultimate fate.

Jo was having enough trepidation about her own dream, though, so I didn’t want to confess all that to her about my experiences. She was scared about moving on, so I didn’t know how she’d take that information that she was in fact going forward. Just like how she yelled at me when I tried to be encouraging, sometimes it made her cry, too. Either way, I couldn’t win.

Once, during a very weak and vulnerable moment, she complained about how she felt like she couldn’t handle it all. She confessed to me that I was the glue holding her together, and that she would simply fall apart without me. But I kindly disagreed with her and said that she was her own glue. And that she had all the tools necessary to fix her broken heart. I was just helping her figure out where all the pieces went. She bawled when I said that, and I had felt horrible because I thought I had said something wrong. But then she kissed me, so I guess maybe I hadn’t.

Again, I checked the time on the watch on my left wrist. It was getting close to one in the morning, and I wanted to go home. I couldn’t because I was Max’s designated driver—at the rate things were going, he could want to stay out all night. He was surrounded by three waitresses, who were scantily clad in such a way that Hooters girls would look frumpy compared to them. They were fawning all over him, and he was clearly enjoying every second of it. No way was he ready to leave yet.

I sighed and shoved my hands back into my pocket, wondering if Jo were sleeping or if she were still forcing herself to stay awake. Contemplating on calling or sending a message, I decided against it. First of all, if she were in fact sleeping, I wouldn’t want to wake her. She was so exhausted, and she desperately needed whatever rest she could get. And second, Jo would be mad if she thought I was checking up on her, because she told me to just have fun and not to worry about her. I tried to tell her that I’d worry no matter what, and that it wasn’t really “worry” so much as it was concern.

I just hated that I couldn’t do anything to automatically make it better, or fix it altogether. When I first approached Jo, way back when, I did so because I thought I could help her. There was something about her that drew me to her, and I thought the reason for that pull between us was because I was destined to help her and save her from immediate danger. But I couldn’t fucking help her. I told her that I had experience with losing a loved one and that I could help her through it, but it was all a lie—I was a useless bystander as she worked through this on her own. I could hold her when she cried, or listen as she talked, or reassure her that eventually this would all be over, but that was it. I couldn’t speed up the process or further her progress or take away the pain.

“If you wanna go, just go,” Crosby encouraged. “Not like he won’t be able to find someone to take him home tonight in his sloppy, drunken glory.”

“Don’t you think he’ll be mad if I slip out?” I asked back.

Flower chuckled. “I’m willing to bet any of those girls—if not all of them—will be glad to tuck him in tonight.” I bobbed my head, still trying to decide. Would Jo be mad if I went home, if she found out I had called it an early night? “You want to get home to your girlfriend,” he continued. “Talbo will figure you’re getting laid. He won’t care.”

That made me smile, because he had a point. Crosby added, “Besides, it’s not technically his birthday any longer. We’ve got a game tomorrow—er, I mean today—so I’ll be heading out soon, too.”

“I hate to cut out early though, because he made such a big deal over this party. But it’s not even like he’s hanging out with any of us. Jo’s just kinda going through a rough time right now,” I explained, trying to rationalize my decision to them. No one knew about James or what she was going through, and I knew that Jo wanted to keep it that way, too. “Stress with going back to school, on top of everything else. I just want to make sure she’s doing okay.”

They nodded, not really caring. It wasn’t that they were inconsiderate; since they didn’t know how big of a deal this actually was, they couldn’t appreciate the circumstances for what they were. But I left, quickly and quietly, and although I hated trying to slip out without Talbot seeing, I couldn’t wait to get home.

Jo was right where I had left her: sitting on the floor with her back against the couch, the coffee table pulled up to her with her books and papers spread out over the surface. She had a half-eaten Sheetz MTO sub and an empty, large Styrofoam cup of Sheetz coffee on the table, too. And she was still dressed her pink sports bra and my pair of blue-and-white striped boxers. I thought she was crazy when she dressed in that after our shower, but she informed me that she would be less likely to doze off if she were cold.

But she was sleeping. At least, I thought so. She had her pencil in her hand, which was resting above the sheet of paper. Her head was dipped, her chin resting against her chest. When the door clicked shut behind me, though, her head snapped up. Jo rubbed her eyes as she looked over at me. “Hey. Back so soon?”

“Yeah, it was a lame night. And we play tomorrow, so I didn’t want to be out too late.”

“Mmm,” she responded, so tired that she couldn’t even form words. She shook her head and tried to wake up more.

“So, what do you say we get to bed?”

“No,” she sighed, reaching for her coffee cup only to find that there was nothing in it. Jo made a face as she set it down, obviously disappointed. “I want to finish this assignment.”

“Didn’t you already tell me that you’re weeks ahead of the syllabus?”

“Yeah.” Jo rolled her eyes. “But I don’t want to go to sleep yet.”

I didn’t say anything, because I knew whatever I said to her would evoke an argument. We’d been through this before, and to make it worse, she was so cranky when she was tired. We just had to get through this; then everything would be fine and we could get through anything. So instead of saying something that would only set her off, I began to clean up by throwing away her meatball sub and empty coffee cup.

“Hey, I paid for that!” she said belligerently, reluctantly pushing away the coffee table so she could stand. She walked over to me and peered into the garbage can, almost longingly at the sandwich. For a second, I thought she debated on fishing it out of the garbage. “I was gonna eat that, you know.”

I looked over at her and her red eyes, wondering why the hell she wasn’t in bed. I sighed, wondering if this was going to cause an argument. This was one of those things we had to get used to about each other. “The bread was all soggy, it was probably sitting around for hours. Gross.”

“Still, I woulda eaten it. That’s just being wasteful.” Jo pursed her lips and shrugged, obviously not happy but too tired to get into it with me.

Changing the subject, I yawned, “I don’t know about you, but I’m tired.” I slung an arm around her bare waist and then dipped my head down to kiss her cheek, her neck, and then her shoulder. “Let’s get some sleep.”

“You smell like smoke. Where did you guys go?”

“Just to Bossa Nova, for food and drinks. It turned out to be a pretty boring night, actually.”

“I don’t believe it,” she replied with a smile, resting against me. I guided her toward the bedroom without a word; I knew that she hated feeling like I was taking care of her, but she needed that right now. She was hesitant to get some sleep, and although I fully understood why, she needed rest. “That’s all Max Talbot wanted to do for his birthday?”

“I couldn’t believe it, either.” I shrugged as I let go of her and she sat on the bed. Then I stripped out of my clothes and pulled on a pair of cotton pajama pants. Crawling into bed, I pulled her down with me and held onto her, thinking we could sleep now. “Apparently, Kels and Heather threatened Talbot to keep the night PG-13.” I kissed her cheek, and then her closed eyes. “Goodnight.”

“Kris, you still smell like smoke,” she mumbled, giving me a gentle push. “Go shower.”

“I already showered twice today,” I groaned. “Once after practice, and then with you. I’m tired. Let’s just sleep.”

“I can’t sleep if you smell like this. Please?”

I was frustrated, but I was willing to appease her if it meant she’d sleep. Very quickly, I jumped in the shower, hoping to wash the scent off me. Just because I couldn’t smell it didn’t mean it wasn’t there; after all, I’d spent the night in the restaurant so I was probably just used to it by now. Then I quickly dressed back into my cotton pants and headed back into my bedroom, where Jo had turned on the lamp and was flipping through one of her textbooks, desperately trying to stay awake.

“No, no, no. Lights off.” I crawled into bed beside her, pushed the book closed, and reached over her to turn the lamp off. Thinking if I made this seem about me, she wouldn’t be able to argue that I was doing this for her. “Time for sleep. I’m showered, just like you wanted, and I’m exhausted.”

“I don’t want to fall asleep yet. Tell me about your night.”

“Jo...” I said, not sure how to convince her that she needed to get some rest. I’d tried to be comforting, understanding, and reassuring, and then I’d tried tough love, and then I’d tried a bit of reverse psychology, too. It wasn’t working. So I tried honesty. “I know you’re afraid of your dream—”

“I’m more scared about how it’s gonna change,” she confessed quietly. I opened my eyes and looked down at her, barely able to faintly make out the lines of her face and the tear that streaked from her pinched-shut eyes. “If I didn’t even make it into the house, then, what happens now? As much as that dream bothers me, I don’t want to not dream it. The longer I can put off dreaming it, the longer I’ll have before it changes.”

I couldn’t argue with her logic. It made sense—especially to her tired brain. But she needed a new approach. “I know that you don’t wanna let James go, but you aren’t. This is a good thing, Jo. If you can dream about him without it hurting, then you can think about him without it hurting. I promise. And you can’t deprive yourself of sleep. That doesn’t help the situation.”

It took her a few seconds to respond. “Is this what it was like for you?”

I licked my lips and tried to think of the best way to talk about it. Pulling her in closer against me, I advised, “Yeah. The same bad dream, over and over. It is scary, when it changes, but hindsight is twenty-twenty. It might suck now, but it’ll be okay. Don’t be scared.”

“You’re wet,” she breathed, turning her head so her cheek was against my chest. I watched as her eyes fluttered, like she wanted to open them but physically could not. “I’m so tired.”

“Just sleep, and I promise, it’ll be okay.” I knew I shouldn’t make that type of guarantee, but if my wanting her to have a good, uneventful night was enough to make it so, it would have. Usually, I tried to absorb any negative vibes, even if it seemed like a stupid and impossible idea. But tonight, I tried to send out good vibes to her as I closed my eyes and followed her into dreamland. I knew that if she was going to have her nightmare, I would need my rest, too, because I’d be up with her.

It was impossible to sleep through when she had an episode. She thrashed around and screamed, and I could almost feel a change in the room around us. It was scary, and I thought about how my mother would come into my room at night when I was having my nightmares. I had a new appreciation for her and all she did for me.

The sun was shining when I woke up. Jo had obviously slept through the entire night. In fact, she was still sleeping, and she hadn’t even moved at all because we were both in the same position we’d started out in. I figured that she had probably been so exhausted that her body forced itself to sleep and her mind let her have the peace.

I decided to get up and cook breakfast for us. When Jo slept through the night, we had good days together. It was like old times, the way things were supposed to be. The way things were going to be once we finally got through this. So I left Jo in bed and headed for the kitchen, where I pulled the box of Eggo frozen waffles out of the freezer. I slipped a few into the toaster and pressed the lever, but it didn’t work. With a yawn, I tried again, unsure why it wasn’t working.

Suddenly, Jo was behind me. She reached behind the toaster and plugged it in. That would explain why it wasn’t working. I turned to face her and say good morning, but I stopped myself when I saw her face was red with shame. She hated that she felt the need to unplug things, because she was afraid of a fire. I had tried telling her that I understood, but she hated hearing that. There were a lot of things she wasn’t happy about with her life right now.

Instead of trying to say something, I reached for the hand on the counter that had just plugged in the toaster. I brought it up to my lips and kissed the back of it, her fingers, her palm, all without a word. When I let go, she wrapped her arms around my middle and stepped behind me, holding onto me. Still focused on making breakfast, I moved about the kitchen to pull some eggs out of the fridge. Jo all while held on and moved behind me, which made me chuckle.

I pulled a bowl down from the cupboard to crack the eggs in, but Jo’s hands began to move. They went across my stomach, up my chest, and back down again. Then I felt her lips on my back, kissing a spot by my shoulder blade. She sucked my flesh into her mouth and bit down a little harder than I expected her to. I gasped both in pleasure and pain. Her hands kept moving all the while, one of them leaving my stomach and sliding up into my hair. Her fingers threaded through it and lightly scratched my scalp.

There was a loud knock on the door, and I was about to grab onto Jo and tell her to ignore it; however, she was already moving away from me. She unbolted the door and cracked it open, and then upon spying the visitor, closed the door and unchained it. When she opened the door again, she greeted, “Max. This is a pleasant surprise.”

“Tanger up?” he answered, stepping into the apartment.

“Geez, nice to see you, too. Yeah, he’s in the kitchen.” She pointed toward me and turned to head further into the living room or back into the bedroom—hopefully to put clothes on.

Talbot spied me and raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement, but something distracted him from talking to me. “Nice tat.”

“Oh, thanks,” she mumbled, straightening up the papers and homework assignments on the table.

“I’ve got a few myself. Not a hockey stick, though. Did you play, or what?”

I stopped making so much noise, so I could hear what she was going to say. I felt like I was in the wild, trying to observe an animal in its natural habit as I waited to see how she was going to answer Talbot’s question. “No, I didn’t. But my brother did.”

“He doesn’t anymore? Why did he stop?”

Jo never talked about her brother to anyone who didn’t already know him; it had been a really big deal to her that she had talked about him to me. And she especially did not talk about his death unless she had to. I was really curious to hear how she was going to respond to him now. I took the waffles out of the toaster quietly so I could listen in as she replied, “He, uh, died.”

For a second, Max didn’t say anything. I turned and watched him nod and simply say, “I’m sorry.”

Her lips curled into a slight, sad smile. “Yeah, me too.” Then Jo left for the bedroom, and Talbot headed over toward me.

“I didn’t know that,” he noted, grabbing a waffle from the plate and biting into it.

“Huh?” I asked, not sure what he was talking about.

“Jo had a brother. I didn’t know that. Did you?”

I wanted to laugh at Max’s obliviousness. Sure, Jo liked it better that no one knew, but it was something that she was unable to hide from me from the get-go. It was like the part of me that had lost someone had instinctively seen that in her, too. It was what drew us together through everything. “Yeah, I knew.”

“Oh,” he shrugged, scarfing down the rest of the waffle.

Excusing myself, I followed Jo into the bedroom because I needed to see how she was holding up. As far as I knew, this was the first time she’d ever talked about James to someone else who didn’t used to know him. Besides me. This could be a very big moment for her. She had pulled on a pair of jeans and was in the process of tugging a shirt on. When her head appeared, I was utterly relieved to see that she wasn’t crying or upset.

“So what did Max want?” she asked, sitting down on the mattress to slip on her tennis shoes.

“Dunno. I didn’t find out yet.”

“So he’s probably out there, unsupervised, eating my breakfast?” she cracked.

I was torn between saying something about how happy I was, that she was so calm and okay about what she had just talked about, and not saying anything at all because she probably wouldn’t like knowing that she had just openly talked about James like that. It was a touchy situation, but I was so proud of her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Jo asked, eying me warily.

“Nothing,” I lied. “So, you’ve got class today?”

“Yeah. Calc. I just need to grab my stuff.”

Together, we walked back into the living room. Jo grabbed her bag and groaned, complaining that it was ripped and that she needed a new one. I was about to ask her what happened when Talbot commandeered the conversation. “So, Tanger, the reason I’m here. Did you buy your plane ticket home yet over the Olympic break?”

I glanced at Jo and then back at my teammate. “No, I haven’t.”

“Good! Because I chartered a flight to Montreal. We can just go together, eh?”

“Uh, actually, I’m not, um, going home.”

“What?!” Jo and Max simultaneously hollered.

“Are you going on vacation instead?” Max questioned further.

“But I thought you were going home?” my girlfriend badgered. “To see your mom. You’re always saying that you wish you could spend more time with your family.” She referenced Luc’s birthday, adding quietly, “And plus, the sixteenth. You told me, like, two weeks ago that you were so excited you could go back with everyone, since the season allowed it this year.”

Her sad eyes searched mine desperately for the answer. I had told her all that, but I never told her that I had changed my mind. Yes, I had originally planned to go home to Montreal to see my mother and then to go visit Luc’s grave in New Brunswick with his family and Charlene. Since his death, I’d always been too tied up because of the hockey schedule that I couldn’t go back with everyone on the big days, like his birthday or deathday. But I felt like Jo was in such a fragile place that I couldn’t just leave her here, alone, for a week and a half. She needed me here with her.

“Well, Jo,” I started, reaching for her hand.

“Kristopher Allen Letang!” she hollered, stomping her foot as she grabbed her calc book and notebook. Her eyes were flashing with anger because she read my mind. “I know exactly what you’re thinking, and fuck that stupid excuse. You are going, even if I have to drag you up there myself!”

“Then it’s a par-tay!” Talbot interjected, not caring at all that we were in the middle of a discussion that didn’t concern him. “I say, the more, the merrier!”

“Aren’t you going to Mexico?” I asked him, never glancing at him.

“Well, I’m going home first, see the fam, go out for a night, then hola, México! But it’ll be a lot more fun to take Jo out in Montreal, don’t you think?”

“But she has class,” I said. “Jo doesn’t have a break until March.”

She folded her arms in front of her, holding her books against her chest. “You’re not staying here on account of me, Kris. No fucking way.”

Talbot just wouldn’t stay out of this. “So what if she misses a few classes? It’s a chartered flight, we can bring anyone along. Why not?”

Jo raised her eyebrow defiantly, waiting for me to find something wrong with that compromise. And a compromise it would be—I wouldn’t be leaving her alone, and I’d still get to go to Luc’s grave on his birthday. “If your professors won’t mind...” I shrugged. “I won’t be held responsible for you slacking in your classes.”

Her face softened. She tugged on my arm and pulled me into the kitchen, even though the apartment was open and Talbo could still hear us. “I’m not going to tag along just because it’ll make you feel better, that I’m not alone. I would love to be there for you to help you through it, but only if you want me there. You were here for James’s birthday, and the anniversary of his death, and if you needed me to do the same for you, I would in a heartbeat. But if you’d rather just go with Charlene and Suzanne—”

I put my hands on her shoulders, and then I slid them down to her arms and rubbed circles with my thumbs through the fabric. I hadn’t thought about this possibility, about taking her home with me this time. The idea never crossed my mind. But the more I mulled it over, the more I liked it. She could see the side of me that she only heard me talk about. Maybe it would help her. “I would like it if you came. It would be a lot of fun for me to take you home. We could fly out right after the game, go out on the town for Valentine’s Day, meet my family and friends, and Charlene, and come with us. What do you think, Jo? Because I think I’d like it. I think this would be a great opportunity for us, so I want you to come.”

She nibbled her lip, examining my face to make sure that this was, in fact, what I really wanted; she must have found whatever it was she was looking form. “Okay, Kris, I’ll come up with you.”

“Great,” I said quietly, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

Max interrupted us again. “Woo hoo, par-tay!”

7 comments:

  1. Yay! Montreal bound to my city. Such a sweet update, and I can totally imagine Max helping himself to breakfast. Roll on 64 :)

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  2. "Max interrupted us again. “Woo hoo, par-tay!"

    I can totally see Max saying this in the same type of situation. lol.

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  3. ahahahah ya gotta love Max

    great update:) And I'm excited they're going to Montreal xD I'm jealous.

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  4. Loved the ending, I wish I could go to Montreal with Tanger that would be like going to one of my favourite cities ever with one of the cutest guys ever. *drools*

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  5. I am so proud of Jo!!!! That was a huge step for her to mention him like that. I am really hoping there aren't any repercussions in Montreal because Max knows and as we all know he kind of has a big mouth. Bah, I am so excited for their trip! It will be so nice for her to be able to be there for him, and for her to see he isn't Superman. I am so excited for more!

    Great update.

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  6. As I go...

    "Biting my tongue, I had to stop myself from laughing out loud. Marc-André Fleury was desperately in love with his girlfriend, and he never would have done anything to jeopardize their relationship. This was all talk, just to show the guys that he wasn’t as whipped as he seemed. Véro may have given her permission for Flower to have a wild night, but he’d never actually go through with it if he were given an opportunity."
    ^^ This makes me love the boys at the reject table even more! But I honestly can't figure out why Max wouldn't just invite the gfs too I mean... if he was just going to the restaurant... is he that nervous of relationships? lol

    “See, that’s why I’m single.”
    That time, I couldn’t hold back the snort. It erupted from me, and Flower chimed in with additional laughter as he said, “Yeah, uh huh. That’s it. It has nothing to do with the fact that any girl that comes within five feet of you freaks out and tries to rip the shirt off your back.”
    ^^ BAHAHAHAHA Ohhh Crosby... trying to be 'one of the normal guys', that's not gonna work sweetheart...

    "When I dreamt about Luc after his death, it was always the same one: he and I would be riding motorbikes or something, and I would somehow cut him off or cause his accident. It would be my fault, and he would tell me so with his last breath. The guilt had seeped into my waking life, too, and had haunted me all summer long. But eventually, the dream changed and the accident wasn’t my fault anymore. And then eventually, there was no accident; Luc just hopped on his bike and drove off into the proverbial sunset. After a long while, I stopped having that dream at all. Now when I dreamt about Luc, it was always positive and never had anything to do with his ultimate fate."
    ^^ So... my emotions went all funky when I read this. At first I was super sad for Kris, but now I feel much more peaceful. I hope Jo finds that peace soon, and I hope you're still writing this awesome story when it happens, so we get to read it =)

    “If you wanna go, just go,” Crosby encouraged. “Not like he won’t be able to find someone to take him home tonight in his sloppy, drunken glory.”
    ^^ Oh Talbot and his drunken glory... really, is there any time he can't make me smile??

    “Kris, you still smell like smoke,” she mumbled, giving me a gentle push. “Go shower.”
    ^^ Ughhhhh! Sooooo upset! This really made me uncomfortable again. Why does he smell like smoke? Does he really, or is it in her head? Curse the dream!!

    “Just sleep, and I promise, it’ll be okay.”
    ^^ I know he honestly can't keep that promise, but really... isn't that what we all need? Someone to kiss us and tell us that everything's going to be just fine? And plus, if Kris Letang was saying it... wouldn't you believe him??

    “Jo had a brother. I didn’t know that. Did you?”
    ^^ /epicfail. YES MAX! Ughhhh some guys actually have real conversations with the girls they sleep with.
    Ughh what a moron! I mean that in the nicest way possible! I love Max but like... what kind of question is that, really? He's so clueless sometimes lol

    Max interrupted us again. “Woo hoo, par-tay!”
    ^^ lol. I don't even know what else to do... oh Max... oh my...

    This is going to be an interesting trip!

    Amazing as usual Jay... but now I'm all done, and have to wait for the next one =(

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  7. Yep, I am interested to see how the Montreal trip goes as well, and I am so happy that a professional athlete eats Eggos!

    Fabulous, as always, sister!

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