Chapter Five

I won the argument over our outfits and Bridget stopped at her apartment to change before driving us to the arena. When we arrived, most of the other fans were arriving too, so it was pretty crowded. Bridget picked up our tickets and we headed up to our seats. There were four other women sitting right near us.

“Vero!” my sister shrieked in her fake “I’m so pleasant and not a seething bitch at all” voice.

“Hey Bridget,” she replied, smiling pleasantly. I immediately noticed how pretty she was. “You must be Blake.” She quickly enveloped me in a warm hug. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, but actually I go by Maddison,” I said.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry I forgot!” she said hastily.

“Oh no, don’t worry about it,” I said. I felt bad for correcting her in the first place, but I wanted to get it right at the beginning.

“Well let me introduce you to the rest of the girls,” she began, brightening. “This is Kelsey.” She pointed to a girl sitting behind us. “She’s dating Tyler Kennedy. This is Heather.” She pointed to a petite blonde sitting next to Kelsey. “She’s Brooks Orpik’s girlfriend. And this little butterfly sitting next to me is Michelle, Jordan Staal’s girlfriend.” It was clear that Vero and Michelle were the closest. “And, as you already know, I’m Vero. Marc-Andre Fleury is my boyfriend.”

“It’s great to meet you all,” I said taking my seat next to Vero. Bridget moved to the other end and sat next to Michelle. I immediately liked Vero. Everything about her was just more than welcoming.

“You know, you and Bridget look nothing alike,” Vero said quietly after a few minutes.

“Yeah, we get that all the time,” I answered, involuntarily rolling my eyes.

“Oh no! It’s not a bad thing! I think you’re absolutely gorgeous,” she said, putting a hand on my knee. “I know this sounds stupid, but once I saw pictures of you, I was actually a little intimidated. But you seem like such a nice person, I know I was just being silly!” Her smile was stunning. I found it hard to believe that someone with her looks was intimidated by someone like me. It was certainly a confidence booster.

“Wow, I don’t know what to say,” I said. “I’ve never gotten that before. Thank you.” Compliments already? Vero gained even more points in my book. She smiled again at my remark.

“Don’t mention it. So I heard that Kris has a thing for you?” she asked, winking at me.

“Oh yeah, that. Bridget loves to play matchmaker, so we’ll see what happens,” I said, unable to keep the annoyance out of my voice. It was just so frustrating. I did more than alright in the dating field without her help.

“He’s a sweetie. He has a really good heart,” she replied, looking down to the ice.

“Which one is he?” I asked, squinting down in that direction.

“Number 58 with ‘Letang’ on the back,” she answered, pointing him out.

“Oh, okay, I see him,” I lied. They were moving way too fast for me to catch a good glimpse. I settled myself in for a long two and a half hours. Throughout the game, I chit-chatted with Vero about my life and New York and she told me all about herself in between trying to explain what was going on in the game. I think that maybe if I hadn’t been opposed to it, I might have even enjoyed it, but I really wasn’t in the mood. All I kept thinking about was the moment when Bridget would finally tell me about her little surprise date. The game ended uneventfully with the Penguins winning effortlessly over Atlanta. When we got up to go, I felt Vero’s arms around me once again.

“I hope I see you again soon,” she said departing with Michelle. I began to follow Bridget out of the stands when she grabbed my hand.

“I have something so exciting planned!” she squealed. I abruptly pulled my hand away and glared at her.

“Something exciting like what?” I asked.

“You’ll see,” she sing-songed and led me out of the arena. She drove like a bat out of hell back to our parent’s place which I noticed was vacant. Damn them for going along with this idiocy. Bridget summoned me to my room and I was not to go downstairs until I heard the doorbell. Once in my room, I realized that all of my things were unpacked and my mom had ironed a dress for me to wear tonight. It was hanging on the back of my adjoining bathroom door. It wasn’t one of my favorites, but it was nice enough. A black, strapless number. She also put my silver heels underneath the dress. I rolled my eyes, changed my clothes and sat on my window seat. I just stared out of the window down to the street below until I finally saw a car pull up and Kris and Geno emerged, ringing the doorbell seconds later. I slipped on a silver headband before taking the stairway to hell.

“Oh, what’s this?” I asked in mock surprise. Geno suppressed a laugh and Bridget seemed utterly thrilled.

“We’re having a little double date!” she said excitedly.

“Whaaaat? I had no idea! You caught me utterly by surprise,” I said in my continued mocking voice. Geno couldn’t help it and he let out a snort, but Bridget was too wrapped up with herself to pay any attention.

“Wont this be fun?” she asked, clapping her hands together.

“It’s going to be oodles of fun Bridget, just oodles!” I said in a false tone. She turned to the dining room and I rolled my eyes and followed. “Hey Kris.”

“You look beautiful,” he said, handing me flowers. I took them and put them in the vase that Bridget had already set up in the dining room.

“Thanks,” I said smiling at him as he pulled out my chair. Bridget plopped down next to me and all of a sudden Brett emerged from the kitchen.

“I’ll be your waiter tonight,” he said. “If you need anything just ask.” I rolled my eyes again at the corniness of this whole situation.

“You knew about this?” I asked as he poured my water.

“Yeah, but I was sworn to secrecy,” he said apologetically.

“What about your date with Melanie?” I questioned, shooting daggers at him.

“We had it earlier today. So technically I didn’t lie to you,” he said and moved on to my sister’s glass. After the water was poured, he came out about two seconds later with wine, which I declined, and salad, which I also declined but he put it down anyway. The dinner started out awkwardly, but once Bridget became wrapped up in whatever Geno was saying, I was able to talk to Kris without much interruption. Our conversation flowed smoothly through the salad, the dinner (shrimp scampi with linguini) and dessert (cheesecake). I ate around almost everything and every time Brett took a plate back, he gave me a disapproving look to which I just shrugged. To my left though, I noticed that throughout the dinner, Bridget was throwing back glasses of wine like there was no tomorrow. She was annoying as hell when she was drunk. At the end of dinner, I excused myself to the bathroom.

“That’s right, now Maddison has to go throw up everything she just ate!” Bridget exclaimed, laughing hysterically. I stopped dead in my tracks and I heard Brett drop a utensil in the kitchen.

“What the fuck did you just say, Bridget?” I asked, turning to face her.

“Come on Maddison, I was just kidding!” she slurred looking at me with her head tilted.

“Shit like that’s not funny,” I said. She had some stupid superior smirk on her face in her drunken haze and it took everything in my power not to slap her. “Why would you say something like that?”

“Because you used to be a little bulimic,” she said poking me in the stomach. “Or anorexic, or whatever. Everyone knew. You weren’t hiding anything.” I felt the hot tears stinging in my eyes. I looked over to Brett who was now standing in the doorway, fuming. Geno and Kris sat there looking helpless and awkward. I stormed out of the dining room, grabbed my purse, and headed out the sliding glass door in the back. I made my way to the rock wall that my dad built when I was in seventh grade. I sat down, pulled out a cigarette and lit up.

“You smoke?” I heard Geno’s voice behind me.

“Only on nights like this,” I said, puffing into the night air.

“Brett’s in there laying into your sister. That was really uncalled for,” he said, sitting next to me. “Especially in front of Kris.”

“Apologize to him, for me,” I said looking down. “He didn’t need to know how screwed up I am on our first ‘date’. Neither did you for that matter.”

“I’m sure he won’t even give it a second thought. Neither will I for that matter,” he smiled at me.

“I don’t really feel like talking,” I muttered.

“Okay, I should be going anyway,” he put a hand on my cheek and rubbed it softly with his thumb. “You look pretty when you cry.” After he left, I wiped at my face, pissed that I had let him see me that weak.