Chapter 7

Paige and I walked into our coffee shop the following Wednesday afternoon. I’d had a quiet and uneventful few days at school so far this week and I liked that. We got in line and ordered our drinks idly chatting about our day. When they arrived we found a table and sat down.

“Have you talked to Patrick lately?” she asked after taking a sip of her drink. I rolled my eyes at her. Lately every conversation with her turned to Patrick at some point.

“I talked to him on Sunday actually,” I told her. Her eyes lit up and a smile spread across her face.

“What about?” I thought back to the phone call and smiled.

“I thanked him for offering Nathan and I tickets, he told me about his game from the night before, and that’s about it,” I explained. Paige looked disappointed.

“That’s it?” I nodded and took a sip of my coffee. “Really?”

“Sorry that I don’t have anything juicier for you,” I apologized sarcastically.

She changed the subject after that and we continued to sit and talk for a while about other things. Even though we weren’t discussing Patrick anymore, he was still on my mind. It had only been a few days since I’d talked to him but I found that I wanted to talk to him again. Paige and I went our separate ways and I headed home with Patrick on the brain.

On one hand I didn’t like that he was having this kind of effect on me, and yet I did. It was a strange predicament I’d never found myself in before. I absentmindedly greeted Loxley when I got home. I decided to go for a run to clear my head and took Loxley with me. By the time I was home I wasn’t anywhere close to getting Patrick off my mind.

I spotted my cell sitting on the coffee table and narrowed my eyes at it. Did I dare? What would I say? I couldn't just call Patrick to talk, could I? I needed an excuse. I sat down on the couch and thought. Finally something popped into my head and I picked up my phone. I highlighted Patrick’s name in my contacts list and hesitated. Do it now before you chicken out, I told myself.

“Hi, this is Patrick. Sorry I missed you. Leave a name and a number and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can,” his voicemail picked up.

I panicked and hung up. As soon as I did I smacked myself in the head. He was going to be able to see that my number was the missed call. You idiot, Gabrielle. Now what? Without thinking about it, I called his number again. This time I didn’t hang up.

“Hi, Patrick, it’s Gabrielle. Sorry about the last call. I got disconnected somehow. I was actually just calling about the tickets for Nathan and I. I realized that I hadn’t explained the schedule of games we could attend to you. Just give me a call back when you can to discuss it. Thanks.”

It was a lame excuse to make the call, but I did it. I tried to make myself sound as professional as possible in the message. I went over what I’d said in my head a few times before chiding myself. You’re not in high school, you’re an adult. Get a grip. I pushed Patrick out of my mind and hopped into the shower.

After taking a long hot shower I searched through my cupboards to see what I could do for dinner. I decided on something easy and grabbed out the ingredients for a shrimp stir-fry. I put on some music and made dinner. When I finished eating I fed Loxley and then walked into my studio. I studied the painting I’d started on Sunday.

Just as I was about to sit and continue, I heard my phone ring. I sprinted out of the studio and into the living room to my phone. I practically dove at it, hoping to see Patrick’s name on the screen. I saw that it was and took a moment to compose myself before answering.

“Hello?” I answered casually.

“Hey, Gabby, it’s Patrick. I got your message.” I felt my stomach do a little flip at him calling me Gabby. He’d never done that before. You only used nicknames with people you liked being around, right?

“Oh, good. I realized we hadn’t talked about it and I didn’t want you leaving tickets for games we wouldn’t be attending.”

“I have Friday free. Why don’t we get together for dinner and discuss it then?” Wait, hold on, what? I’d figured we were just going to talk about it now on the phone, not over dinner. Even so, I couldn’t help but smile.

“Friday sounds great.”

We figured out a time and a location before hanging up. I fell back onto the couch in a kind of daze. Patrick and I were going to be having dinner in two days. Sensing something was up, Loxley made his way over to me and began to nudge my hand. I gave him a pat on the head and laughed.

“Don’t worry, buddy, Mama’s okay,” I assured him.

The next day flew by in a blur for me. Before I knew it I was sitting at home after school was out on Friday. I was playing tug of war with Loxley when a sudden panic hit me. What was I going to wear? I jumped up and stared into my closet and groaned. I didn’t exactly own date-worthy clothes. I picked up my phone and called Paige.

“I’m having dinner with Patrick tonight and I don’t know what to wear,” I told her.

“I’ll be right over,” came her reply. She hung up the phone and I sat down on the couch, fidgeting nervously until there was a knock on my door.

“You’re better at this stuff than I am,” I said as she walked through the door. I noticed then that she was carrying a bunch of stuff with her.

“I’m going to move right past the fact that you neglected to tell me about your date with him and get right to work,” she quipped.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. No one said date,” I said defensively. She put her stuff down and gave me a disbelieving look.

“Where are you going?” she asked. I relayed the information to her and she put it into a search on my computer. The restaurant’s website popped up and we looked at it. A knot started to form in my stomach. “How did dinner come up?”

“I called him and told him we should talk about the games Nathan and I would go to so he knew ahead of time. He suggested talking about it over dinner,” I explained. She lifted her eyebrows and a smile formed on her face.

“Couldn’t you have talked about it on the phone right then?” she asked.

“Sure,” I responded slowly.

“Keep that in mind while you look at the website for the restaurant you’re going to and tell me it’s not a date.”

I looked back at the computer screen. While the restaurant wasn’t black tie, it was hardly a chain place. There were linens on the tables with candles and mood lighting. Oh no. I, Gabrielle Tunney, was going on a date. A date?! I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been on a date. No way, this wasn’t happening.

“I can’t be going on a date. I don’t know how to date! I’m not good at it!” I exclaimed in exasperation.

“No one’s good at dating, Gabby. You’ll be fine,” Paige reassured me. It didn’t help.

“What if it’s a disaster? What if we don’t have anything to talk about?” I was in full on panic mode.

“Hello, you two have already had a dinner and talked long after the food was gone. You’ll be fine. Now sit down and let me get you ready,” she demanded.

I did as she said and sat down, allowing her to do my hair and makeup. When she was done with that she went to work picking out something for me to wear. She grabbed a black halter dress and a black cardigan to go over it, nothing too fancy, telling me I should look classic. I changed and she gave me a nod of approval.

We walked out of the building together. She gave me a few more words of encouragement before I got into a cab and headed to the restaurant. I nervously fidgeted around the entire drive and stumbled as I got out. Thankfully it didn’t seem like anyone saw and I tried to pull myself together before walking in.

“Gabby,” I heard Patrick say my name just after I walked in the door. I turned to see him standing up from a seat. I panicked once again thinking I was late. I was never late.

“Oh no, am I late?” I asked him. He smiled and shook his head.

“No, I was just early. I didn’t want to sit until you got here.”

I relaxed and smiled back at him. I took a moment to look him over. He looked amazing in his dark wash jeans and fitted shirt. We followed the hostess to a table and sat down. I took a silent deep breath before picking up the menu to distract myself a bit. I needed the distraction, because otherwise I was going to be thinking about how nervous I was.

“Do you want to get a bottle of wine?” Patrick asked.

“Unless you plan on drinking most of it, it might be a waste. I never have more than a glass,” I told him. He smiled over at me.

“Just a glass each then it is.”

We put in our drink orders and then continued to look over the menu in silence. I was practically hiding behind mine. Our waiter arrived with our drinks and we gave him our orders. Now that the menu was gone I didn’t have anything but the wine to distract me. I forced myself to only take a small sip and take my time drinking it.

“So you wanted to talk to me about the games you and Nathan could attend,” Patrick said. My nerves relaxed a little bit and I nodded. This was why we were here afterall.

“Yeah, I did. We’ll only need tickets for weekend games. I just wouldn’t feel right bringing Nathan to a game on a weekday with school the next morning. So basically Friday nights, Saturday, and if there are any Sunday afternoons,” I explained.

“Sounds good. I won’t worry about the rest of the nights then. I’ll just automatically have the tickets at will call waiting for you guys each game,” he told me.

“Thanks again for doing this for him.”

“You need to stop thanking me. I’ve told you it’s not a problem at all.” I blushed a little and nodded before taking another small sip of my wine. Now that the issue with Nathan was sorted out I didn’t know what to say. Thankfully Patrick spoke up. “I know that we probably could have said that over the phone, but thanks for meeting me for dinner. It gets lonely eating alone all the time.”

“I know what you mean,” I told him truthfully. Very very rarely did I ever have a meal with anyone else.

“It doesn’t help that I can’t cook either. No one wants to come over when your specialty is pressing the speed dial for pizza,” he joked. I laughed, unable to help myself.

“You can’t be that bad,” I insisted. He rolled his eyes.

“I’ve been known to royally screw up spaghetti.” I laughed again and he joined in. “How about you? Do you cook?”

“Yeah, I do actually. I enjoy it. I mean I’m not a culinary master, but I get the job done,” I explained.

“Did someone teach you, or were you just naturally good at it?” he asked.

“I’m self taught.”

“Impressive. My mother spent years trying to teach me how to cook knowing I’d be on my own someday. She’s very disappointed to have an offspring who is useless in the kitchen.” I laughed again.

“I’m sure she’s not that disappointed. You must have other talents. Like hockey.” Patrick shrugged.

“Trust me, that’s hardly consolation to her. Now my brother, he can cook a mean roast. Makes her proud. Every year when I come home she keeps trying to teach me. My father just rolls his eyes at her determination.”

“Well, she’s obviously worried about what you’re eating. If pizza on speed dial is the specialty, I’d say she has good reason.” He laughed and agreed.

“So how about your family? What are they like?” It was an innocent enough question, but my smile faded. It was the first time my family had been brought up between us. I took a deep breath before responding.

“It’s just me,” I told him quietly, casting my eyes down to the table. I didn’t like talking about my family.

“Oh, Gabrielle, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize,” he apologized. I looked back up at him and gave him a small smile.

“Don’t apologize. It’s been 9 years,” I told him trying to shrug it off.

Our dinner came just at that moment and I was thankful. We both looked down at our food after the waiter had moved off, but neither of us made a move to start eating. Desperate to get the pall out of dinner I brought up the only thing I could think of.

“So how did you get started with hockey?” I asked. He looked up at me and smiled, obviously relieve at the topic change.

“Now that’s a long story,” he began.

“You’re Canadian?” I joked. He laughed.

“I guess it’s not that long,” he replied while still laughing.

The rest of the dinner went off without a hitch. We had more than enough to talk about the rest of the time, avoiding the topic of my family of course. He tried to insist on taking a cab with me back to my place to make sure I got home okay, but I refused because he had to head in the opposite direction.

Before I got in the cab he took my hand and pulled me close to him, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. I felt butterflies in my stomach flutter at the touch and I’m sure I was blushing. He said he’d call me before we went our separate ways. I got into bed that night with a smile, floating on cloud 9.

Chapter 6

I sat in front of a blank canvas and closed my eyes. Painting, along with running, was a kind of therapy for me. Right now, I didn’t need any therapy. I just wanted to paint. More often than not I didn’t have anything in mind when I got into this type of mood. Usually I just sat down for a while in front of the canvas and let my mind wander.

That’s what I was doing right now. I sat there with a clear mind for a moment before I thought of yellow. I wasn’t sure what to do with the color my brain gave me, but I picked up a brush and got to work. I began blending color trying to come up with the same yellow I had seen in my mind. The moment I got it right, I knew what I was going to paint.

I put the yellow I’d constructed off to the side and got to work blending the right colors for everything else. The yellow would be last. Loxley made his way into the room and curled up at my feet. I gave him a pat on the head before starting on the painting. I zoned out of everything and focused only on the canvas. I don’t know how long I sat there before a ringing broke me out of my concentration.

“Hello?” I answered my phone without glancing down to look at who was calling.

“Gabrielle, it’s Patrick,” the voice on the other end greeted. I felt myself smile as I put the current brush I was using down and got up from my seat.

“Hey, Patrick, how are you?” I asked. I noted that it was mid-afternoon and I’d been in my “studio” for a few hours.

“Pretty good. How about you?” he returned.

“Really good. So what’s up?”

“I just wanted to check in. I felt kind of weird about how things ended Friday night.” I thought back to our conversation with Nathan. Lying to him hadn’t settled right with me either.

“For the record, I hate that we lied to Nathan about meeting to talk about you giving us tickets for the rest of the year,” I told him.

“Same here. I could tell that you were uneasy about the direction the conversation had gone when we talked about getting coffee, and it was the first thing that came to mind. I’m sorry I put you in that position.” I smiled at the apology, even though it was a completely unnecessary one.

“You don’t have to apologize. I just have a rule that I don’t discuss my personal life with students, that’s all. It was my mistake for bringing it up in the first place,” I explained.

“Well, I’ll remember that for future reference.” Future reference? That meant he wanted to see me again, right?

“You really don’t have to give us those tickets, you know. I feel like this whole situation put you into a tough spot and I would feel awful taking them over a mistake I made.”

“Nonsense. Every guy on the team is automatically given two tickets for every home game. If I didn’t give them to the two of you, they’d go unused and it would just be two empty seats in the stands. Take them,” he told me.

“Are you sure?” I wanted to double check, because it still seemed like an inconvenience to him.

“I’m positive, and if you ask me again, the answer will stay the same.” I smiled on my end of the receiver.

“Well, thank you then. I can’t even believe the amount of things you’ve done for Nathan and I in the two weeks we’ve known you. You must be some kind of saint.” I heard him laugh at the other end.

“I’m not sure anyone’s ever referred to me as a saint before,” he joked and I joined in the laughter.

“So how did your game go last night?” I asked, remembering that they’d gone on the road after the game Friday for another game.

“It wasn’t great, but thankfully our goalie played out of his mind and bailed us out a lot. We ended up winning in a shootout,” he told me.

“Well, at least you won, right?” He let out a small laugh.

“And I managed to score a goal too,” he added.

“Well, congratulations,” I said with a grin.

Patrick and I talked for a few more minutes before we hung up. I made my way back into the studio and sat down in front of the canvas with a smile on my face. I got back to work, funneling my emotion into my work. To say that the painting was altered from my original idea at that point wouldn’t be doing it justice.

The next day I went into work just like any other day, except I knew that Gia was supposed to be coming in today. She’d skipped out on her last two appointments with me. At this point I didn’t care what we talked about, I just wanted her to show up. I said a silent prayer that she would come in before I got started on my day.

When 11:00 rolled around and the bell rang, signaling students should be in class I sat tensely at my desk. Please come in, please come in. On cue there was a knock on my door. I got up and pulled it open, revealing Gia standing on the other side. She didn’t look happy about being here, but she was here.

“Hello, Gia,” I greeted her with a smile.

She gave me a forced smile in return and I walked over to the chair I used during meetings with students. I didn’t like to sit behind my desk, feeling like it made me seem too formal. She collapsed down on the couch opposite me with a sigh and crossed her arms over her chest.

“So how are you today?” I asked. She rolled her eyes before responding.

“Fine.” I’d expected that response. It was the only response she ever gave me when I met with her.

“Good. So what’s going on in school?” I usually started off meetings with her like that. Talking about school at least gave us something to converse about before I tried to get her to open up.

“Not much. I have a math test coming up,” she offered. She looked none to pleased about that test either.

“Ooh, math. Math was never my strong point,” I admitted truthfully.

“It’s stupid. What’s the point?” she complained. I thought for a moment before answering, afraid of saying something to anger her.

“Well, I think it’s to prepare everyone. You never know what career you might fall into, so giving everyone all the basics in every subject helps when people make decisions about that. That way they have the building blocks to get started in their chosen specialty.” She made a face.

“And in what career would I need to know about obtuse and acute angles?” she questioned. I gave her a small smile, knowing my answer would only annoy her.

“Engineering. It’s pretty important to know the right angles when you build something, otherwise it wouldn’t work properly,” I responded.

“Well, I’m not going to be an engineer.”

“What do you want to be?” She remained silent at that question. Instead of responding she looked down at her feet and picked at her cuticles. I realized that I was getting as far as I would with that topic and decided to change it up. “Is anything else going on?”

“No,” she replied curtly. She was hiding something, and I could tell. She was fidgeting far too much not to be. Even so, I didn’t want to push.

“Well, we still have some time left. What would you like to talk about? Anything is fine. Your choice.” I always asked her that hoping that anything she gave me would help me understand her.

“I just want to go back to study hall.”

When she said that, she ran a hand through her hair. Her left sleeve was shoved down just enough in the process for me to see that there was a bandage on her arm. It wasn’t on her wrist which signaled to me that she hadn’t been trying to commit suicide, but was most likely cutting, and recently. My heart ached, but I knew better than to push her about it right now. If I pushed her before I’d gained her trust, I’d lose her forever.

“You can do that in a minute. We’re almost done. Why don’t you tell me about photography? I heard you’re taking that this year,” I prodded. Photography was an elective in school, and I knew that only students that cared about it took it. Most students would rather have a study hall over another class.

“It’s alright, I guess,” she replied, trying to be nonchalant about it. Even so, I could see the twinkle in her eyes for just a moment. It didn’t last long, but it was there long enough for me to see that there was something positive in her life.

“You know, I never did have the creative eye for photography. It amazes me sometimes to see the work some photographers can produce.” Gia shrugged.

“It’s not difficult really. You just have to look around you and find something that moves you. Sometimes it’s people, and sometimes it’s just the formation of rocks. You never know what will touch you,” she explained to me. It was the most she’d ever said to me before. I smiled over at her.

“I’ve heard a lot of photographers bring their cameras with them everywhere they go. Do you do that?” I asked. She shrugged again.

“Sometimes. I try to if I can, but I really need a better camera before I can take anything worthwhile.” I decided to press my luck with the newfound openness.

“You sound like you really love it. Have you ever thought about making photography your career?” I watched her shut down right in front of me. Her body language changed drastically and the look on her face turned to a scowl. She didn’t respond. Someday I wanted to find out why she refused to talk about her future.

“Can I go now?” she finally asked a minute later. I smiled over at her and nodded.

“Yeah, sure. Let me write you a pass.”

I filled out a pass for her to head back to her study hall and watched her walk out of my office. It was discouraging to know that a teenager outright refused to talk about her future. That was never a good sign, especially connected with one who cut themselves. Despite that, I felt like I’d won a small victory. I’d finally discovered something that she loved. When they still had something they cared about, there was always a chance to help them.

Chapter 5

I walked into work the next morning and headed straight for my office. I went through my normal routine of putting away everything I’d brought in with me before checking my schedule for the day. Not long after I got there I heard a knock on my door. I looked up and smiled when I saw Paige poking her head in.

“Good morning,” I greeted her cheerfully. Her jaw dropped as she walked into my office.

“What did you just say to me?” she asked. I furrowed my brow in confusion. What was so offensive about ‘good morning’?

“I said ‘good morning’,” I repeated. She crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at me.

“Now why would you do that?”

“Because it’s the morning. What’s your deal?”

“You’re not yelling at me. Are you using some sort of weird psychological thing on me? You’re being nice to me to get back at me somehow?” she questioned. Then it hit me.

“Oh yeah, I’m mad at you,” I said. She grinned over at me.

“You don’t sound very angry.”

“Don’t mistake my good mood for forgiveness. What you did still wasn’t right,” I told her.

“I don’t care if it was right or not, I just care about how it went. Tell me!” she exclaimed sitting down in a chair across from me.

“We walked for a bit, talked, had dinner. Nothing big,” I explained. Her eyes opened wide and her smile grew.

“You went to dinner?!” she yelled.

I knew it was best to just answer her questions now rather than blow her off and face them later when she’d had time to mull over them. I prepared myself for the rapid fire exchange that was about to go down. It was how Paige worked, and honestly it was easier for me as well.

“Would you quiet down? And yes.”

“Where?”

“A tapas place a few blocks from the coffee shop.”

“You went someplace you had to share little plates of food?”

“It looked good.”

“Who picked the food?”

“Both of us.”

“You agreed on stuff?”

“Everything.”

“How long were you there?”

“Just over two hours.” She paused and that wasn’t good.

“You ate at a tapas place for more than two hours?” she asked slowly.

“We didn’t eat for two hours. The food was gone in the first hour, and we talked the rest of the time.”

I realized my mistake as soon as I finished talking. I’d said too much. Paige had thrown me off by slowing down causing me to divulge more. It was a tactic she knew worked well with me when she wanted to know more than I was giving up. Damn her.

“Hold on, you met someone that eats the same food you do and you managed to have a two hour conversation with him? Marry him, and marry him now,” she joked.

I glared at her, not appreciating the joke. I was known by others as a picky eater. I didn’t agree with that assessment, but everyone accused me of being one. I just wasn’t adventurous when it came to food. I knew what I liked and what I didn’t, that’s all. The bell signaling the start of homeroom rang and saved me from any further conversation with Paige. She shot me one last grin before leaving my office for the day.

The next evening I pulled into the school parking lot a couple hours after leaving. It was Friday and I was picking Nathan up to go to the Hawks game. I saw Nathan sitting out in front and smiled. It was Halloween and I’d half expected him not to show up. I was relieved when I saw him.

He chatted away during the car ride. I did more listening than talking but I didn’t mind. The more Nathan talked, the more comfortable he’d get with me, and the more he’d open up. I thought about what a victory it was just to have him with me and out of trouble on Halloween, notorious for hijinks. I knew that even after the game ended, there was still plenty of time for Nathan to go out, but he wasn’t out there right now.

The game was exciting and the Hawks won 5-2 over the Stars. Nathan was the same way he was the previous game. He cheered the whole game, and during stoppages he talked animatedly about anything and everything. We used the passes Patrick had left us and went downstairs and stood in practically the same place as the game before.

As we waited I couldn’t help but feel a little anxious to see Patrick again. I hadn’t talked to him since Paige’s set up. We’d seemed to get along well, and had a lot in common, but I wasn’t sure how he’d felt about it. I tried to tell myself he wouldn’t have stuck around as long as he did if he hated me, but it wasn’t sticking.

The more anxious I felt, the more frustrated with myself I got. What was I worrying so much about? Patrick and I weren’t dating. That hadn’t even been a date we’d gone on. At least not to me. We’d been thrown together by my conniving friend and tried to make the best of it. Get a grip, Gabrielle.

“Are you okay, Miss Tunney?” Nathan’s voice broke into my thoughts. Great, I’d been ignoring him since we’d gotten down here. Way to gain his trust.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. I guess I’m just tired. What were you saying?” This time I listened as Nathan talked on.

“Hey, Patrick!” Nathan exclaimed a few minutes later. I turned around to see Patrick walking over to us, smiling, looking as amazing as before in his suit.

“Hi guys. How are you?”

“Really good. Great game tonight. And thanks for the tickets,” Nathan gushed.

“It’s not a problem. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Definitely. I hope you guys can keep this up. Miss Tunney promised me that she’d take me to games on the weekends if I do well in school,” Nathan told him. Patrick looked over at me and I thought I saw his smile grow.

“Is that so? That’s really nice of her.” I found myself starting to blush as I smiled back at Patrick. “Did you enjoy the game?” he asked turning to me.

“I did. I don’t know much about hockey, but I’m quickly growing to like it,” I said.

“Good. Then it won’t be torture to drag this kid here then,” he joked. Nathan and I both laughed.

“Sharpie, can I catch a ride with you tonight?” another guy in a suit asked walking over to us. I recognized him as the same guy that had come over the game before.

“No problem, Burs,” Patrick agreed. The other guy thanked him before walking away and talking to a few of the wives or girlfriends.

“Burs? Is that the guy who gave you the ringtone?” I asked remembering “Barbie Girl” playing on his phone the other day. Patrick laughed.

“Yeah, that was him. I still haven’t figured out how to get him back for that,” he said.

“Barbie Girl?” Nathan asked, snapping my attention back onto him. Shit, I’d forgotten he was there. What was wrong with me?

It was a cardinal rule in my book to not discuss anything from my personal life in front of students and I’d just done it. Maybe it hadn’t been much, but it definitely implied that Patrick and I had at least talked to each other away from Nathan. Patrick unfortunately didn’t know my cardinal rule and filled in the blanks.

“Yeah, Burish changed the ringtone on my phone to that God awful ‘Barbie Girl’ song the other day. Then when he knew I was out with Gabrielle he called hoping to embarrass me. It worked,” he explained. Nathan looked between Patrick and I in surprise and I felt myself blushing again.

“You two went out?” he questioned.

“Well, we didn’t exactly,” I started. I paused trying to think of something to say.

“She just wanted to talk to me about bringing you to the games. I told her I’d provide the tickets for any games you were going to come to.” His response caught me completely off guard. He glanced over at me quickly and smiled.

“Really?!” Nathan asked excitedly.

“Yeah, so we’ll have those seats all season,” I told him, going along with the lie. I didn’t like lying, but it seemed much easier than getting into the truth right now.

“That’s awesome! Thank you!” Nathan exclaimed to Patrick.

“They were going to go unused otherwise. It’s not like I have anyone else to give them to,” he said glancing at me again. I didn’t have to read into that comment.

“Sharpie, we gotta go!” the same guy from before, Burish, called.

“Yeah, sorry about this. We’re on the road tomorrow so we’re flying out tonight. I’ve gotta get going. It was really nice to see you again. I guess I’ll be seeing you at the next game,” Patrick said.

Nathan and I said our goodbyes before making our way out of the rink and to the car. He spent a great deal of the car ride talking about how cool Patrick was for giving us those tickets. After I dropped Nathan off I went home. I tried to get to bed early, but thoughts about the night were keeping me up.

Patrick basically saved my ass by covering for me and making up a story to tell Nathan. I never let my guard down like that in front of students, but I’d screwed up tonight. He’d rushed in and rescued me without even knowing why he was. That touched me, and what touched me more was the fact that he was offering us tickets for the rest of the season. I still couldn’t believe it. I never would have asked him for tickets. I thought about turning them down, but decided against it. Nathan would never forgive me if I did that.

The more I thought about Patrick the more I liked him, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. On one hand I was scared and wanted to run away. Guys and I just didn’t mix. We never had. It had been years since I’d even allowed myself to get close to one, which just made this even more nerve-wracking.

On the other hand I was lonely. I hadn’t realized how lonely I was until the other night with Patrick. For years I’d told myself that I could live by myself and be happy. I thought I had been. I’d shunned every guy that had ever come along making myself believe that I would be happier on my own. Now Patrick had put a crack into that logic. I hardly knew him, which made it a very small crack, but it was a crack nonetheless.