Love Bites

----- Grace Hartin

"I can't do it."

"Yes you can."

"I actually can't though Amanda, I'm pretty sure my legs have fused with the sidewalk."

Amanda grabbed my hand and pulled me forward so that she could whisper my ear. I wasn't sure how she was feeling, but she sure wasn't jumping for joy.

"Relax okay?" she smoothed out the bottom of my little red dress and continued to usher me forward less violently than before. "This will be fun and no you will not get caught."

It was like she read my mind.

"My sister got us great IDs and as long as we act the way we did when we pretended to be Harvard students so that we could explore what's now your school," she poked me in the stomach and I couldn't help but smile fondly over the memory of that day, "we will be fine. Okay?"

I honestly still wasn't sure, but Amanda had a way of convincing people to agree with her. That was one of the main reasons she was going to business school. "Fine Amanda. That went fine and so will this."

She smiled like she always knew I was going to agree with her and shook my arm excitedly. "I knew you'd come around! Plus, fucking Patrick Kane is going to show up just for us."

For you. But okay, you mean the best.

Ahead of us were a couple pairs of girls and a group of guys. Like us, the girls were standing in the cold evening with dresses that could only dream of ever covering their knees and heels skinny enough to thread a needle while holding their wearers 3 inches above the ground. The pair at the front of the line was living our cover story. One had on a 'Happy 21st Birthday' crown while the other threw her hands around in excitement. The pair following them in line stood with their heads close together while they shot the occasional glances at the guys behind them. Other than the one guys with sunglasses on, even though the sun had gone down hours before, the group of frat boys seemed average. None of them particularly attractive and none of them interested in us.

Actually, no one in line seemed to care about us. Other than the occasional wandering glance not a single person gave us any reason to believe that they knew that we were underage, or they just didn't give a shit.

I was completely okay with that and could feel myself relaxing by the second. All my energy seemed to go to Amanda as we neared the door until she was practically throwing the IDs at the big guy in the black on black outfit.

"Sorry," I smiled as I took our IDs from him and entered the club.

Inside the entrance it was darker than it was outside. The walls were a dark purple and geometric designs were used everywhere from the floor to the indents in the walls. A few lights were scattered in the ceiling, but other than that there was only the glow from the coat check to our left.

"Do you want to check in out coats and bags?" Amanda began taking off her coat while handing me her bag, but she didn't once look at the coat check. Her eyes were peering through the double doors for any sign of Patrick Kane I assumed.

When she took her coat off I gave her her bag back and did the same, "Nah, I'll be at the table the whole time so I can watch our stuff."

I followed her through the double doors into a room with the same dark walls and geometric designs being lit up by flashing lights that swept from side to side while others changed colors as the bass pumped. If she didn't have her hand latched firmly around my wrist I probably would have lost her as we made our way around the edge of the dance floor, past the bar and into the obstacle course that was the seating area.

"Come on Grace," her grip got tighter and she pulled me harder and faster through the tight spaces. I tried to hug my things close to my body and stay on my toes, yet I still found myself hitting people and barely missing their glasses perched precariously on the edges of their tables.

Without a word Amanda stopped abruptly while I ground to a halt and watched as she switched gears into her sexy walk. On the train she demonstrated how when she steps she crosses her feet so her hips sway and she is forced to stand up straight to keep her balance. Of course the train had shook during this and she fell, but she continued to practice it in the hotel.

"Keep your cool," her voice was muffled by the noise in the room, "don't look like we were just running."

I liked to consider myself in shape, but there was no way that my breathing would be able to return to normal before we reached the table. My midfield position gave me the ability to run fast and for long periods of time, not slow my breathing like meditation.

Ahead of us a thin curtain was pulled back from the entrance to a private booth. Inside a funky lamp cast a warm light over a similar color scheme and design to the rest of the club. The table was a smooth dark wood and just large enough to hold drinks without taking up all the space.

"Hey," Patrick stuck his head out as we approached.

"Hey," Amanda spoke just loud enough to be heard as she slid into the booth next to him. I chose to just nod from the side of the booth opposite them to avoid giving away my trouble breathing.

The three of us sat there for a second coming to terms with what was happening. Just hours before Amanda asked Patrick out in a very cryptic manner at the sacrifice of my embarrassment. Now we were all sitting around a table in a club. Casual, yet uncomfortable.

"I'm Grace," I began the conversation like I did my whole life with new people, but this time it seemed foreign and awkward.

Any tension that Patrick and Amanda might have felt suddenly melted away. She tucked her stuff away in the back and he called over a waiter for a round of beer all without knocking into each other. Her body slid under him as he leaned over her to get the waiters attention, yet in this modified human pretzel there was not one piece out of place.

"I'm Patrick Kane," he did a little bow, "but call me Kaner, Patrick, anything really."

Who would've guessed that he was Patrick Kane? I mean it wasn't like I had seen him on stage earlier, or hundreds on time on the TV and online. He was trying to be nice and polite, but I couldn't help the sarcastic thoughts shooting around my head.

Amanda smiled, but instead of saying her name she moved to shut the curtain.

"Wait," he grabbed her hand just as a larger hand grabbed in end of the circular booth and pulled himself in.

Close up he was a much bigger person than he looked on stage. So much for 'skinny white boy'. If only he wasn't still folded up like earlier, then he'd look like a captain too.

It took my brain a few seconds to process what had just happened.

Jonathan Toews came and sat down next to me. He looked like he was having a terrible time, but he was having a terrible time next to me and I was happy with that. Compared to him not being next to me, not compared to him having a good time next to me.

Now Kane let go of Amanda's hand and the curtain fell over the opening. Not a second passed, with no one able to open their mouths before the waiter came back with our round.

Jonathan was the first one to grab his beer. We all watched him as he took a long swig of what seemed like half the bottle. If his eyebrows hadn't seemed slightly less furrowed afterwards we probably would have been worried.

Kane was more reserved than Toews with his beer, but if continued to have this 'connection' with Amanda and they were anything alike that would change very quickly.

----- Jonathan Toews

I don't know why I ever agreed to go out with Kaner. It was a spur of the moment thing where I finally felt kind of inspired by the girl that I now sat next to and anything seemed better than being home alone. This counted as something that was better than being home alone, but now what. Here we were, a couple of pairs that were strangers to each other at a club. Not the usual encounter with a stranger, but a planned one where we knew we were together while it didn't feel like we were together.

"So," I put my bottle down for the first time and watched the beer inside settle about 2 inches above the bottom, "you're the girl that managed to ask him out without anyone noticing." The girl next to Kaner smiled triumphantly like she had earlier and shifted into the curve of Kaner's arm as he lifted it behind her head and laid it over the top of the seat.

Her darker skin made her royal blue dress all the more rich. On top of the velvet purple cushions with her head held high she looked regal, and way too good for Kaner.

"That would be me. I'm Amanda," the whole table tensed, "but you can call me Mandy." A collective sigh of relief was released from all of us. Kaner acted like he was okay because I was a mess, but he had to admit that he was hurting over his break up too and her being named Amanda still looked like it hit a nerve for him.

Mandy seemed to recognize this and took over the flow of conversation. It began with talking about the day then the club and eventually I lost track of it. Most of the talking was between Mandy and Kaner. I tried everything that I could to keep to myself and the girl next to me looked engaged but only tossed in the occasional comment. She seemed to have the same plan as me.

At the end of my fourth beer in about an hour somehow the conversation had steered towards dancing and Kaner and Mandy were getting up to go to the dance floor.

"Where are you guys going?" The question left my mouth before I could process what I was asking when I knew they were going to go dancing.

Maybe they were going to hook up in a bathroom and not dance? Maybe they were leaving the club?

Kaner grabbed my shoulder, "We're going to dance." Dropping his voice down to a club grade whisper and pulling me in he spoke quickly before she pulled him away, "I think she's really good for me."

Together they slinked off into the crowd of sweaty bodies on the dance floor. Normally I would join because there was no way that Kaner was a better dancer than me, but tonight it was just like it had been for a while I couldn't bring myself to go.

"How are you?" a delicate voice to my right seemed to come from no where.

I had almost forgotten that there was still someone with me. She had slid over so that to look at each other we didn't have to turn our heads 90° without me noticing which was a little bit embarrassing. What drink was I on?

"How am I?" I repeated her question and she nodded me on.

The nodding made her long dark brown hair slide up and down along the sides of her body. Like the convention earlier that day she wore a deep red in the form of a dress with a v-cut neck that hugged her sides without making her look like she was going to pop out of it. Close up her eyes and lips really stood out, despite the purposefully dim lights that make anyone look semi-attractive. Her dark eyebrows matched her hair and made it impossible to miss her eyes, framed by her thick lashes. Plump lips were the next thing that drew attention. It didn't look like she was wearing any lipstick or gloss, but she wore her seemingly natural light cranberry lips perfectly.

"So how are you?" she repeated my repeating.

How long had I been staring at her face? When had something captured my attention like that and made me think so… artsy?

Light cranberry lips?

"Uhh," I reached for my beer, but when I brought it to my lips it was empty, "I'm fine. Just doing the same old. And you?"

She scoffed and placed her beer down. Suddenly I was panicking over what I could have said wrong. Had I crossed a line by asking her how she was? Maybe it was her time of the month, though I really didn't want to know about that. I also hoped that she wouldn't talk too much. Her friend umm Mandy said she was smart. Girls like that seemed to always feel like they had something to prove. "I had a great time today," she began with some positivity that I could feel led to a 'but', "but honestly I'm sick of talking about hockey."

That was not what I expected.

"I love hockey, I really do. Just a whole day being surrounded by it made me realize how easily it can take over your life." She stopped and looked at me sheepishly, "Not that I'm saying that you're life sounds terrible to me. What I'm trying to get at is that it must be hard to keep your life separate from hockey and kudos to you for not letting it drive you bat shit crazy."

Satisfied with her explanation she took a sip from her beer while I waited expectantly for her to say something simple enough for me to understand with the buzzing in my head. It felt like forever until she finally looked back at me, "What?"

"I was waiting for you to finish."

This stumped her, "I was done. What else do you want to hear?"

I sat back in my seat and let myself relax. My muscles felt tight like I had been clenching them since we started talking how ever many minutes ago and with them stretching out my mind let go and I was at ease in the moment. "Usually girls like you try to impress me with statistics and facts about me that they think that I don't know or haven't hear before."

"Girls like me?" her voice sounded tighter than before, but it was probably because she was sitting up and not relaxing like me.

"Yea." I placed a hand on her arm which froze up under my grip, "Smart girls who don't think they have a chance with guys because of it so they don't get out much." I could feel my theory blossoming in my head as I began to explain to her. From her furrowed eyebrows I assumed that she didn't see my point yet and needed some more help understanding.

I really wanted her to understand me.

"Then when you do go out you don't know how to interact so you fall back into 'smart girl' mode and use that as a way to connect even though it's not the best way to get a guy to be honest with you. I want to be honest because I want you to succeed."

Succeed with me.

Her mouth opened and shut as she tried to find the words to thank me for my insight. Eventually she gave up and bit her plump bottom lip between her straight white teeth.

"I don't," her eyes looked shiny and her cheeks had gone rosy. I think they had at least, the orange lights made it very difficult to tell.

Before I could tell her that no thanks were necessary the curtain was drawn back and 2 sweaty bodies collapsed into the booth across from me. The two play fought as they climbed over each other to get the bag and jackets in the back.

"Hey guys," I recognized Kaner's voice from behind the royal blue, "we're going to another club. Ready to go?"

Words came back to the girl I was sitting with. "I'm done, I'll just head back to the hotel." She grabbed her things and a brilliant idea came to me.

"I'll go with," I pointed to the girl next to me, my hand flashing by my face, "her."

I didn't remember ever learning her name, or did I just forget it?

"You should go home," she placed her hand on my shoulder and used me to push herself out of the booth on the other end. The spot where she touched me felt hot, like she had left her mark on me.

Actually all of me felt hot.

"Wait, Grace could you do me a huge favor?" Kaner made his puppy dog eyes and began to speak to her in a pleading voice, it made him look really desperate.

If she was leaving then there was no reason for me to stick around other than the beer. The bottle in my hand was empty, so that left no more reasons.

"Take him home."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Please Grace we really want to go dancing and you said you wanted to explore Chicago."

The room was obviously too hot for my jacket, but it felt too heavy for my arm. When was the last time that I had worked out?

"Fine."

"We payed so just go to this address."

Both Kaner and his girl shouted 'thank yous' as they ran off through the crowd, trucking through anyone that happened to be in their way. Guess it was just me by myself then.

The door looked really far away, but if red dress wasn't going to stay with me then it was where I had to go.

----- Grace Hartin

I didn't want to take him home at all. After what he had said I felt humiliated, stupid and if he believed everything he had drunkenly said then there was no way that he wanted me to be around him anyways.

It was also really sad to see him swaying on his way out of the club. Kaner and Mandy hadn't been very understanding of the situation but he told me a little about how Toews was, or rather wasn't, dealing with his break-up which shed some light on his behavior.

Outside the club his jacket pocket got caught on one of the caps on the velvet rope poles. He shook it violently, trying to get it off while he muttered about how he wanted something cranberry really badly. I stood for a second watching him, relishing his lack of control and frustration. It felt good to see his drunk arrogant self not have something go him way. His conversation with me hadn't gone his way either, but I was pretty sure that he didn't know that.

"Hey," I placed my hand on his shoulder as I came up behind him and lifted his jacket off the pole, "I'm going to take you home okay? Patrick said you drove."

The color from his face drained and he nodded with his mouth open like he had seen a ghost.

I saw the outline of his car keys in his pocket and started herding him down the street. He nearly tripped over himself with his first step and probably would have fallen if I didn't have my hand in his pocket trying to grab his keys.

"Come on," I managed out as I pushed back on his heavy body, trying to hold him up while getting him to the blinking head-lights down the block.

Notes