Everything Can Change

“Cecily, I have to be honest with you,” Lori started, looking over her gallery with a neutral expression on her face. I bit my lip nervously, awaiting whatever critiques she had.
“This is one of the best beginning of the year projects I’ve seen in years,” she stated, smiling at me. My mouth dropped open slightly, and my heart swelled in pride.
“Oh, wow, thank you,” I sputtered. “That means so much-”
“What was your inspiration for this?” she asked me, gesturing to the photos. The day of the shoot had been perfect, and I’d convinced one of the models at the school to jump into the Charles on a freezing cold raining September day. She was dressed in a flowy dress that we’d found at a thrift shop, and had all sorts of sheer pieces of fabric sewn onto the dress and draped around her hands. The picture of her in mid air flying from the bridge was my personal favorite. There were aerial shots of me standing on the railing of the bridge, looking down on her. There were also behind the scenes pictures of the lighting crew, makeup artist, and the model. They were laughing, and concentrating, and I was really proud of the project I’d done, and the fact that my teacher loved it was icing on the cake.
“I don’t know. I never do, it always just is in here. I’ll see something that gets my imagination going, and then…” I said, my voice trailing off.
“Well, they’re splendid. You can expect some high marks on this one,” she informed me, squeezing my shoulder before walking to look at the other projects in the gallery.
“These suck,” someone said from behind me. I turned, slightly affronted, but a giant smile split my face when I saw who it actually was.
“Oh my god!” I gasped, pulling him into a giant hug. Connor Kogan was my younger brother, and my best friend. We’d grown up completely inseparable, and even now, we were still close.
“Hey sis,” he laughed, resting his chin on the top of my head.
“What’re you doing here?” I asked, pulling away.
“Mom said that you had this project, and she felt bad that she couldn’t show, so I came instead,” he told me, shrugging.
“You’re a sophomore hockey playing phenom, and you’re spending your Saturday night at you sister’s art gallery?” I asked incredulously.
“Do you not want me here or something?” he laughed.
“No! Are you kidding? Of course I do, wow, this is awesome,” I rambled.
“Speaking of awesome, nice pictures,” he said, inspecting my project.
“Thanks,” I said as he looked over them.
“You’re really good, Cecy,” he told me, looking closely at the picture of the girl dropping through the air.
“Thanks,” I said, the smile not leaving my face.
“Want to walk me through the rest of the gallery? I’ve never been to one of these things before,” he said. I nodded, and laughed slightly.
“You even got all dressed up,” I teased, jabbing him in the stomach. He was in a nice jacket and tie, with khakis.
“Mom told me to. And I have to look respectable,” he said, grinning at me.
“Mkay, big guy, c’mon,” I laughed, heading for the other photos on display tonight. I’d give him my interpretation of what I thought the picture meant, and then he’d continue on with some completely BS analysis of the picture that had me laughing. In between each picture, he’d ask me about school, or I’d ask him about hockey, until we’d gone through each one and Lori had given me permission to go.
“Do you need a ride?” I asked him as we walked out of the gallery.
“I don’t think so, Halbo should be here,” he replied, scanning the parking lot for one of his teammates.
“Is that him?” I asked, pointing to a guy who was waving in our direction, leaning against the side of a pickup truck.
“Yeah, that’s him. See ya, Cec,” he said, giving me a quick hug.
“Thanks so much for coming. It means a lot,” I told him.
“Anything for you. See you later, ‘kay?” he said, jogging towards his friend.
“Bye!” I shouted. He waved, and I turned to head for my own car. My phone started ringing, and I pulled it out of my pocket to see my roommate and best friend, Lexie, calling.
“’Sup?” I said as I climbed into the Toyota I’d had since my junior year of high school.
“Cecy, girlfran, you wanna grab some things from the grocery store on your way home?” she asked.
“Yeah, what?” I replied.
“Um… Actually, come home first, I’ll make a list,” she told me.
“Can’t you just text me?” I asked.
“No, come home!” she pleaded. I sighed, and said,
“Fine. I’m on my way.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said, grabbing a basket and entering the grocery store.
“If they don’t have the ice cream, don’t get it. I don’t want fucking frozen yogurt, or some shit,” Lexie said sternly into the phone. After a brief stop at my home to change into more comfortable clothes and get Lexie’s list, I was at the store. En route, Lexie had called me to clarify a couple of things.
“Yeah, Lex, I got it,” I replied, browsing the options.
“Okay. Love you,” she cooed, dragging out the ‘u’.
“Love you too. I’ll be home in, like, 20 minutes,” I told her. Lexie Knare had been my best friend since kindergarten, when we got seated next to each other in the table groups. We’d grown up together, and by some twist of fate, we’d both ended up staying in Boston to go to school. She went to Boston University, and I’d decided on Massachusetts College of Art and Design. I’d had the options to go to more prestigious art schools, but after an unfortunate turn of events within my family, both Connor and myself had decided it would be best for us to go to school near home. Not that Connor was forced to sacrifice much. Going to BC had been a dream of his for as long as I could remember. Lexie and Connor had a feux-rivalry between the two of him, given the rivalry between their two schools.
“’Kay. See ya’,” she said, and then hung up. I first made my way to find frozen pizzas, selfishly wanting to take care of my own list first. I headed for the frozen food aisle to get a frozen pizza, and grinned victoriously when I approached the freezer and saw that I was going to get the very last one. But just as I was about to reach in and grab it, someone appeared behind me and took it first. I turned around, slightly offended, and gave the thief a snarky look.
“Excuse me,” I said, raising an eyebrow at him. I hid my surprise when I saw the Tyler Seguin standing in front of me, and kept my ‘mad’ face on.
“What?” he asked, a smirk decorating his already handsome face.
“I was here first. That’s mine,” I said, pointing deliberately at the pizza.
“But I was faster. I got it first. So, in theory, it’s mine,” he replied.
“Seriously? What do you need a frozen pizza so badly for?” I sighed.
“I’m hungry,” he laughed like it was obvious.
“Can’t you order a pizza or something?” I asked.
“Can’t you?” he retorted.
“I’m a broke art student, I can barely afford shampoo,” I scoffed. “You, on the other hand, are a professional hockey player.”
“Oh, so you do know who I am!” he said, smiling devilishly.
“What- of course I do. How is that relevant?”
“I figured you’d be friendlier if you knew who I was,” he returned.
“That’s a stupid thing to figure. I’m not friendly to rude people,” I said snarkily.
“I’m rude?” he asked, the first real look of shock crossing his face.
“Yeah.”
“You’re the one who’s being a-”
“I’d choose your next words very wisely, superstar,” I hissed, poking his chest. He let out a surprised laugh, watching me in disbelief.
“Jerk. I was going to say jerk,” he informed me. I scoffed, and shook my head.
“What’s your name?” he asked me curiously.
“Why?” I asked slowly. He shrugged, and I sighed.
“Please, please give me the pizza,” I tried. “I really, really want that pizza. I’ve had a long day, I’m tired, I’m not usually such a bitch, and I just really want a frozen pizza.”
“Tyler, did you make a friend?” a new voice asked. I glanced down to the end of the aisle, and saw Brad Marchand strolling casually towards us. If I weren’t as frustrated as I was, I would’ve been freaking out. Two of my favorite athletes from my favorite sports team standing right in front of me. Internally, I was doing back flips, but I kept
“Yeah. This is…” his voice trailed off, looking at me expectantly to fill in the blank.
“Please give me the pizza,” I sighed.
“No,” Tyler answered, shaking his head.
“Give the nice girl the pizza man,” Brad said, winking at me. I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t stop the blush that crawled up into my cheeks. Brad smirked at the reaction he’d provoked. “What’s your name?”
“I’m done with this,” I said resolutely, shaking my head and strolling away, basket in hand.
“What? Wait-” I turned the corner of the aisle, out of earshot. I grabbed all the stuff on Lexie’s list, which was basically phish food, soup, and tootsie pops. I headed to the express line, and pulled out my wallet to pay. I was heading pack to my car when I felt a hand land on my shoulder.
“Who- what do you want?” I sighed, glancing at Tyler.
“Here you go,” he said, handing me a grocery bag. I smiled and laughed when I saw the contents. It was the pizza.
“You don’t have to,” I told him.
“I want to,” he replied.
“I’m Cecily, then,” I told him, extending a hand.
“Nice to meet you,” he said, excepting my hand. I smiled and turned around, beginning to walk for my car once again. As soon as I got home, I screamed for Lexie.
“Jeez, who died?” she demanded, walking into my sight.
“You’ll never guess who I bumped into at the grocery store,” I gushed, dropping the groceries on our couch.
“Who?” she humored me.
“Brad Marchand and Tyler Seguin,” I said, grinning madly.
“You’re shitting me! Seriously?”
“No! Tyler bought me that pizza after I practically begged for it in the freezer aisle,” I explained.
“Begged for what, exactly?” Lexie asked suggestively.
“Oh my god, you pervert, the pizza,” I giggled. She beamed at me, and started rifling through the grocery bags.

Notes

Okay, so like I said in the summary, this is like the dallas trade never happened (even though i'm kind of falling in love with reilly smith)(like seriously, what a kid).
Vote, comment, subscribe, and thanks for reading :) ~Candi