Fourteen:

I hastily handed Jon his phone back and pulled out my own. I really don’t know who the fuck my brother thought he was trying to boss me around like that, but all I knew was that he wasn’t getting away with it. I scrolled through my contact list and clicked ‘call’ when my brother’s name showed on the screen. “What Cole?” he snapped as he answered the phone.

“Wow, uh that’s a nice greeting…” I began.

“Well honestly, I don’t really want to talk to you right now,” he replied rudely.

“Well honestly,” I imitated in a mimicking tone, “I don’t really give a fuck. Who the hell do you think you are? I can do whatever the fuck I want without your permission.”

“Oh are you all pissed because you and Jon can’t be together?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Says who?” I asked smugly.

“Me.”

“Haha, that’s funny. I’m nineteen, a legal adult. Who are you to tell me what to fucking do? You’re my brother… not my dad, remember that Patrick.”

“Uh I can, if you want a roof over your head.”

“You’re honestly gonna hold that over my head?”

“You bet.” He replied simply.

“And you don’t think that I have other friends that I can live with?”

“Haha, I’d love to see that happen. Have fun paying bills and actually getting a job.”

“Fuck you.” I then heard the dial tone. That fucking dick hung up on me. I sighed and set my phone on the table. “Well that was successful...” I said sarcastically.

A few moments later, my phone began to annoyingly vibrate on the table. I rolled my eyes when I noticed the message was from Patrick.

You think I’m fucking bluffing Cole? Break things off with Jon, or I really will send you back home.

“Jon…” I paused for a moment, “are you 110% positive that you want to be with me?”

“Of course… why?”

“Because things are about to get ugly…” I replied.

Haha, funny joke Patty. What? Are you gonna force me on the damn plane?

If that’s what it takes…

Here’s a tip for you: stop constantly hovering over me, and take things for what their worth. Or in simpler words: get the fuck over yourself.

No.

Whatever dude, I’m done talking to you.

And to think that everything was going to finally be okay.

I guess I was wrong.

“Jon, can you do me a favor?” I asked.

“Yeah sure babe, what?”

“Take me home.”

He nodded as we both got to our feet. We paid and tipped the waitress before heading out of the restaurant and into his car. I sat down in the passengers seat as I heard him start his car. He placed his hand on my thigh and I watched him pull out of the parking lot and into the street.

Within fifteen minutes, we had pulled into my driveway. I began getting out of his car, when he grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into a quick kiss. “Don’t worry, everything’s gonna be okay.” I nodded and forced a weak smile before heading inside and straight up to my room, knowing that Patrick would probably be walking in the door at any minute. I laid down on my bed and quickly fell asleep.

*

I woke up a few hours later when I heard a commotion downstairs. I reluctantly stumbled out of bed and made my way downstairs and into the kitchen where the loud banging continued. “What the fuck are you doing?” I asked while attempting to rub the remainder of sleep from my eyes.

“I’m making food… what does it look like?”

“Well sorry,” I paused and rolled my eyes, “asshole.” I added almost silently as I walked out of the kitchen and into the living room to watch TV.

“Hey, I’m having some friends over tonight. So either go upstairs and put some clothes on, or leave.” He called to me from the kitchen. I looked down at my apparel, a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top.

I rolled my eyes once more before heading upstairs, straight to the bathroom, and into the shower. Soon after, I hopped out and readied myself for the guests that Pat was having over. I wasn’t exactly sure who was all going to show up, but I assumed the majority would be his teammates and their girlfriends.

An hour or so later, I headed downstairs and noticed that quite a few people had already arrived. I scanned the room for a familiar face, and immediately noticed Kris Versteeg stationed in the corner with a plastic cup in his hand. “Hey Kris,” I said when I made my way over to him.

“Hey Cole, how are you?”

“Great,” I lied, “and you?”

“I’m doing good.”

“Well that’s good. So, do you know whose all coming tonight?” I asked, hoping to hear Jon’s name.

“Uhm, no… actually I don’t,” he said with a slight chuckle.

“Haha oh okay.”

We made small-talk for the next half hour or so, until I decided to head into the kitchen to get a drink and see who was all hanging out in there. When I stepped through the door, I saw Adam Burish, Patrick Sharp, Duncan Keith, and Brent Seabrook all lined around the counter filling their cups with alcohol that they probably didn’t need all that much. “Hey boys,” I announced, as I joined them around the counter.

They all greeted me, and we all talked for a few minutes until Brent and Duncan headed into the living room to talk to some other guys. Adam, Patrick and I remained in the kitchen for the next hour or so, as the alcohol kept flowing.

“Alright guys, I think I’m going to head back into the living room…” I said as I stumbled my way over to the doorway.

“Cole, don’t even bother looking for him, cuz he’s not here.” Sharpie called from behind me. I immediately stopped and turned around. “I didn’t plan on looking for him anyway, I figured he wouldn’t show up.”

“Okay, just letting you know.” He said innocently as I stepped out of the doorway and into the living room. The floor had transformed into a dance floor, full of intoxicated bodies like my own, and so I decided to make my way into the middle of it. As soon as I did, I felt a pair of arms around my waist. I looked up to see Kris standing behind me with a grin on his face. I figured he was probably intoxicated, so I didn’t really bother pushing him off of me. We danced to a few songs before heading up into my room and talking for a few hours, before passing out.

I woke up the next morning with a pounding headache. I looked to the opposite side of the bed to see Kris was still passed out. I chuckled to myself as I rolled out of bed and grabbed the Motrin from the cupboard in the bathroom. I headed downstairs to see who was still here from the night previous. The usual, Sharp, Burish, and Seabrook passed out on the couches in the living room, like I figured. I grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and took the Motrin before heading back out into the living room and watching some TV.

An hour or two later, Sharpie began groaning on the couch. I looked over in his direction, his eyes were shut, and he was rubbing his temples. “Rough night?” I joked.

“Oh, don’t even get me started…” he said as he sat up.

I let out a slight laugh, “I feel you, don’t worry.” I then focused my attention back to the TV.

“Hey, uh, do you think I could talk to you for a minute, Cole?” Sharpie asked me a few moments later.

“Yeah sure.” I said as I shot him a quizzical look, before standing up and following him into the kitchen.