CHAPTER 39

Before the team went West Coast and Elia went North, Jonathan, Elia, Pat and Amanda got together for a night out. They had dinner at a new restaurant, Tavernita, before heading to Millenium Park for some good old fashioned ice skating. It was a weeknight so the rink was fairly quiet. Only a handful of children, and a few couples here and there. They started out skating four across in slow easy circles around the rink. Jon and Patrick decided somehow that they needed to race though, and took off away from the girls. Kaner won, of course, and Jon started complaining about having to go around some kids. Their show of speed caught the attention of the other skaters and everyone realized who they were. Everyone ended up taking pictures with everyone. Slowly, the families filtered out. After a while Pat and Amanda were skating so close they looked like one person. Elia was impressed at Pat's ability to simultaneously skate backwards and make-out at the same time. She assumed part of it was being able to keep Amanda from falling too. With the young lovers engrossed in each other, Jon and Elia decided to walk over to the Cloud Gate, better known as the Bean and changed out of their skates. They sat down beneath the mirrored sculpture.
“So what's the movie you're doing in Toronto?” Jon asked.
“It's about the future where I make out with Tom Cruise and fight aliens, or robots. Or alien robots. I don't know, I haven't actually read the script,” she replied, smiling mischievously. Jon was surprised.
“Why are you doing it then?”
“I read the part of the contract where it listed my salary and said 15 with six zeros after it. And I only have to be there for a month, and it's mostly green screen, so yeah. When I was younger I would have said 'fuck no' but I'm getting older and more sensible about balancing my artistic credibility and my bank account.”
Jon nodded. He couldn't believe she made that much for a month of work standing around, while hockey players were busting their ass all year long for so much less. They were silent for a few minutes. The thought of her making out with Tom Cruise made Jon shudder, but at least there was no chance she would end up dating him.
“I'll be back on weekends though,” she said suddenly.
“That's great,” Jon replied, trying not to sound overly enthusiastic.
“Hey, how was your date the other night? You've been seeing this girl for a while right?” Elia asked.
“Oh, yeah. I, uh, ended it with her, the other night. Just didn't see it going anywhere.”
“Oh, sorry.” Elia replied. “You know, I could always set you up with someone.”
Jon didn't say anything back, he just shrugged.
“How are you doing?” Elia asked.
“I'll be back playing when we go to Vancouver. But our defense is still sucking and we are fucking blowing it on the power play.”
“I asked how you're doing, not how the Blackhawks are doing.” Elia said. Jon looked at her, feeling annoyed.
“Ask me in the summer how Jonathan Toews is doing,” he replied. Elia shook her head. Jon looked away, running his gloved hands over his head. She leaned over and put her arm around his shoulders.
“Tell me about summer Jonny Toews,” Elia said, smiling at him now.
Jon didn't respond for a while. He wasn't sure what Elia was trying to do. He told her about camping with his buddies, his best friend Dan and his brother David. Canoe trips in the Woodland Caribou Park outside of Winnipeg. The lake his family had a summer home on, where they went boating and water skiing.
“You mean you aren't sitting around stressing out about the next season?” she asked sarcastically. Jon shook his head, “I still work out and get ready, but there's not much else I can do. Have to trust the other guys are keeping in shape.”
“Right now there is nothing you can do either, but you are still stressed out and holding this all on your shoulders.”
“I'm the Captain, I have to,” he said, somewhat desperately.
“On the ice, yes. But off the ice, let me help me.”

He put his arm around her, and they sat under the bean leaning on each other. A flash went off somewhere, they couldn't tell where because the light ricocheted off the mirrors all around them. They heard foot steps moving quickly away from them. It might have been Kaner, they hoped it was Kaner, but either way it was creepy. They got up and went to find out where he was.

“I'm sorry I never watched 24. The whole concept is just, ugh it seems so tedious. Each episode is one hour? It's hard enough having that to live that time scheme in real life. And then to wait a week to see what happens next? I can't handle it. I can't.” Elia was saying, her voice full of exasperation.
“What is it that you do all day again?” Elisha Cuthbert asked.
“Hey, I have a job now,” Elia said matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, that you just started today,” her friend teased.
“Goddamn this game is boring.” Elia said, leaning backwards and stretching.

They sat in the Air Canada Centre watching the Maple Leafs play the Penguins. Soon after she had arrived in Toronto she had gotten a text from Elisha, asking if she wanted to get together. They had met several years before when Elia was dating Emile Hirsch. Back when Elia couldn't care less about hockey, or anything that happened north of Minnesota. She had always liked Elisha though, the diminutive blonde was known to speak like a sailor, or as Elia knew now, a hockey player. She always spoke her mind, and loved hockey more than any woman Elia had met. As far as Elia knew, she was also the only person to have ever purchased L.A. Kings season tickets.
Elia had been ecstatic to find out the Pens were in Toronto her first night in town, but it had been a dull game so far. Nothing was happening. They were mid-way through the second period and there had been no scoring. Not even any fights, only a couple boring penalties like hooking and holding. They had been passing the time chirping Sid via text, and getting too many beers. He was sitting up in a suite somewhere, still on the injured list.
Elisha had also brought a copy of the newest edition of US Weekly, which featured Elia and Paul's twitter picture on the cover. They had been shown on the jumbotrons holding up the magazine and making goofy faces. The press had gone nuts over the picture. Anyone who hadn't seen it on twitter had now seen it in the grocery store check out line. Elisha had a lot to say about that. It wasn't a bad idea to date hockey players, she said. It was just important to pick the right kind. Find the ones with the letter C on their jersey.
“Ovechkin is a captain, and he is far from dating material,” Elia had contended.
“Well according to this magazine you've already gone down that road too,” Elisha teased. There had been a rumor circulating regarding Elia's previous comments at the Blackhawks game. She explained to Elisha that she had only seen “it” in the locker room, and it had been borderline sexual harassment. It was her first year in the NHL, Elia had been sitting, talking to Mike Green, minding her own business when naked Ovechkin had decided to stand next to her.
“I mean, I still exchanged phone numbers.” she said.
Elisha laughed, “Why?”
“I don't know. I don't know why I do things. He used to text me all this stuff in Russian but I never figured out what it meant. Let's send him some texts.”
They started giggling like school girls, coming up with bullshit texts to send Ovechkin. Finally, they sent one: “Hey.” For some reason this made them laugh even harder. The second period ended without any goals, once again. They walked the concourse, stopping to take pictures with fans. They found a table set up with poster boards and sharpie markers, sponsored by Sharpie. They grabbed a couple posters and markers and headed back to their seats. The third period started. Ten minutes in they still hadn't scored. There was a stoppage in play so the girls held up their first sign. It said “Sidney Crosby's mom still does his laundry”. Once they had gotten the attention of the cameras they flipped it over, “but never washes his jock strap.” The camera found Sidney next, and he was shaking his head and smiling. Elia got a text: “going to kill you.” While she read it and laughed Elisha held up another sign, “Downs is single and ready to mingle her # is: 312-244-4032”. The entire stadium started cheering and Elia looked over, screamed and grabbed the sign. She got another text from Sidney, “haha guess you already got yours”. It was Elia's office phone number, thankfully, but she still wanted to kill Cuthbert.
“Well you do need to get back in the game. Pining over Brad Marchand is fucking stupid.”
Elia looked at her through narrow eyes. She wasn't so sure she was ready.
“I'm saving myself for Michael Fass--”
“Michael Fassbender, I know, maybe you shouldn't have blown him off the first time around. By the time you actually make it with Fassbender your vagina is going to be old and dusty.”
“Eew,”
“Yeah, that's what he'll say.”

The Leafs finally scored half-way through the third period. Elisha cheered while Elia booed. Nothing else happened the rest of the game. The girls waited in their seats for the guys to finish changing. Sidney came up first since he didn't have to shower. He was game to go out, along with Malkin, Letang and James Neal. Elia was disappointed not to see Fleury. Dion, Elisha's boyfriend, called her from the locker room to tell her they would meet her at The Guv. Sid texted Letang, then took a cab with the girls to the Guvernment, a dance club in downtown Toronto.
The place was overwhelming. It was a huge warehouse like building on the outside. Inside it was an insane amount of people dancing, with lazer lights and EDM. Elia wanted to turn around and go back outside but Elisha dragged her through. They passed through a few large rooms the size of gymnasiums, and entered a smaller room. It was completely red, red walls, red floor, dark red furniture. They could still hear the music but it was quiet enough to speak to each other. The table had been reserved for them all night. Elisha took control ordering a couple bottles for the table. Sid had some catching up to do on drinking, and got right to it. Elia had never actually seen Sid party like a normal person and was interested to see how it played out.
Elia's phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out to find a text from Alex. “Hey, Lisha, check it out,” she showed Elisha the text back. “This you?” was all it said, with a screen shot of Elia and Elisha at the Leafs game and the “Single and ready to mingle” sign. Elisha laughed hysterically. Sidney read over her shoulder, remembering the sign incident. “You know, I do my own laundry now. I mean, I have someone that does my laundry, but it's not my Mom. Why are you texting him?” The girls shrugged and laughed. They didn't really have a reason. Elisha sent a text back and handed Elia the phone. The Penguins boys had finally arrived, and sat down around the table next to Sid.

Elisha pulled Elia over and said into her ear, “Why aren't you hooking up with any of the Pens, you hang out with them a lot?”
“Tanger, Neal, Gino and Fleury are all involved with someone already, Sid says he lost interest in dating me once he got to know me,” Elia said, laughing at the last part.
“Are you talking about me?” Sid asked, getting in their huddle.
“Yeah, I said you said I was too weird to date.”
“Oh that's true, you are.” Sid confirmed, laughing.
Soon after the Pens arrived some of the Leafs showed up. Dion had brought with him Phil Kessel, Nazem Kadri, Joffrey Lupul and Tyler Bozak. There was a moment of awkward silence as the two teams sat opposite each other, unsure of what to say. Elisha took care of the conversation, and with the alcohol flowing everyone started to loosen up. It became clear to Elia that Elisha had been wanting to set her up with a Leaf. She decided they needed a bathroom meeting and took Elisha away from the table. She was unapologetic.
“You need a rebound, any one of those guys would be perfect,” Elisha quipped.
“I can already tell Tyler Bozak is an immature party boy, Joff definitely thinks he is way hotter than he actually is, and while I do kind of think Nazem is sexy he is so young!”
“He's not that young,”
“I'm an '85 baby, he was born in a whole other decade!”
“I'm not trying to find you a husband here Elia. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Didn't that used to be your motto in life?” she took out her phone, “Siri, is the best way to get over someone to get under someone else?”
“I may have said that one time, but I now feel it is quite the opposite.”
“Okay let's see what can we do about you,” Elisha was ignoring her now, “What are you wearing under this chambray shirt?”
“Nothing. Well, a bra, but,”
Elisha was taking off her own sweater. She was wearing a loose white tank underneath and took that off as well, handing it to Elia. She yelled at Elia to change her top.
“At least you have a sexy bra on.” Elisha said, looking Elia up and down. She was now wearing a mostly see-through white tank with a clearly visible black lace balconette bra. Elisha put her sweater back on and shoved Elia's top in her big purse.

The girls made their way back to the group to find that some of the guys had left the table to go dance. Sid, Geno and Kessel all noticed that Elia had changed her top, so she made something up about Cuthbert spilling a cranberry vodka on her shirt. Elia sat down at the table and checked her phone. Ovie had texted her back.
“Geno, translate this for me.” She handed her phone over to Malkin. He looked at her, confused, then looked down at the phone. His eyebrows raised as he read.
“I'm not saying that out loud to any women! All you said was 'hey' and then this? Who sent this?”
Elisha was whispering something to Sidney, and he was looking at Elia now. He stood up and told her they were going dancing. Elia was reluctant so Sid did another shot with her first. They walked out of the red room back to the main dance floor. As Sid and Elia walked on to the dance floor people stopped dancing momentarily to stare at them. A girl that looked like Elia Downs may pass unnoticed, but a girl that looks like Elia Downs walking with a guy that looks like Sidney Crosby? Not so much. Some people tried to discreetly snap pictures as they walked through, but they weren't fooling anyone. Towards the middle of the room on the right side they found Letang, Lupul, Neal, Bozak and Kadri. James and Tyler were dancing with a couple girls while Letang and Kadri stood talking to each other. Sid started dancing with Elia. He was a really good dancer, which Elia wasn't expecting since he normally had the disposition of a boy scout. After only a few minutes though he quit.
“Hey, these lights and the music and the dancing, I'm feeling really dizzy,” he motioned for one of the other guys to stand in for him. Letang was ready to volunteer but Sid shook his head and pointed to the other one. Nazem looked confused. He looked behind him as if another guy must have been with them that was surely a better choice. Elia frowned, “Don't make me dance by myself!” Together they joined the other half of the group and started dancing. At first they only danced in the general vicinity of each other, but slowly they ended up closer and closer together. Elisha and Dion came down eventually, bringing more drinks.
Elia couldn't tell how long they had been out, or how long they had been dancing, but it was long enough to be hot and flushed. Nazem was right behind her now, his body pressed up against her back. His hands had started high on her waist, and slowly over time fell lower on her body. She could tell he was wondering how far he should try to go. She leaned back into him, and felt his hands pull on her hips. He moved one down, lower, rubbing down on the inside of thigh before bringing his hand back up, past her waist and up below the tank top. They kept moving to the music, but now they were grinding up against each other. She turned her head to right and leaned back. He instinctively moved his head down, and she felt his lips find hers. She opened her mouth a little more and felt his hand on her cheek as he pushed harder into her mouth. The beat dropped for a second and Elia opened her eyes, “Do you want to go somewhere a little more private?” she asked, looking up at Nazem. He tried to respond without sounding bewildered. “Yeah, yeah. Let's go...to...” “To your apartment.” Elia finished for him. She grabbed his hand and started walking towards the exit.
“Let's go back to your place instead.”
Elia stopped and stared at him, “You better not have a fucking girlfriend.”
“No, no. I don't. That's not what I meant.”
Elia didn't know if she was over reacting, but he was acting really weird. He looked back at her with his mouth open like he was about to talk, but no words came out. She raised her eyebrows at him and tilted her head, gesturing for him to just say it.
“I don't have an apartment in Toronto. I'm not totally on the Leafs yet, I mostly play in the AHL in London. I've only been up for a couple games.”
Elia couldn't help but laugh. An AHL'er, of course. Of course she would find herself making out with the guy that was not in the NHL. Nazem looked a mix of offended and embarrassed.
“I'm not laughing at you, for real. I'm laughing at myself. Okay, we'll go to my place.”

The two grabbed a cab outside and took the short drive to 15 Iceboat Terrace where Elia was renting an apartment for the month. She had only been there for a few minutes earlier in the day, and hadn't finished unpacking. Her suitcases were open and spilling out onto the floor where she had been trying to find an outfit earlier. They fumbled around trying to find the correct light switches for the rooms. The light coming in from the long windows guided them around the apartment. It was a small apartment so finding everything wasn't difficult. She poured them each a glass of wine from the kitchen and they stood awkwardly. It didn't seem like he was going to make a move. She set her glass of wine down on the kitchen island and started unbuttoning her jeans. Slowly she kicked off her heals and pulled the jeans off. Nazem took a drink of wine. She locked eyes with him as she lifted the tank top off. She walked over to him now, wearing nothing but a bra and lace tanga. As soon as she touched him he seemed to remember what he was supposed to do. Elia started working on his pants as he unbuttoned his shirt. She knelt to the ground and pulled down his trousers, looking up at him. He looked down briefly then looked back up. Next came his boxers.
“Are you okay?” Elia asked.
“Yeah, yeah, awesome.” He replied, glancing down only briefly. She took the boxers off. He was already rock hard. She was about to take him in her mouth when he stopped her. She stood up and he pulled her into him, kissing her hard. His body was taller and leaner than she was used to. He was toned muscle all over. He reached around and unclasped her bra, taking her breast in his left hand and kissing her neck. His touch was smooth and fluid. They paused to find her bedroom, then resumed making out. Elia felt alive. Maybe there was truth to the saying. She found the novelty of Nazem's body exciting, awakening something in her she hadn't felt in a while. Even though her mind occasionally wandered to Brad, it was different. She wasn't missing the things that he did, but reveling in the uniqueness of the experience.
“I want you inside of me,” she whispered in his ear. He stopped moving.
“Do you have a condom?”
“I don't know,” she replied, suddenly very worried they might have to stop.
“I'm going to check my pants, I'll be right back. Wait here! I'll be back!” He ran from the room. His body looked amazing in the light coming in from the window. Every muscle in his legs was visibly flexing as he walked. He came back from the kitchen with treasure. A condom. The night was saved. He sat down on the bed to put it on, and as soon as it was rolled down Elia pushed him down. She got on top of him, pressing against him as she kissed him, then slowly lowered herself down on, letting out a soft moan as she felt him push inside. She sat up straight with her hands on his chest. Behind her the windows opened out to Lake Ontario stretching out for miles, the street lights cascading over her body. He looked up at her slim figure. There wasn't much for hips, and her breasts were just a decent handful, but fuck it if she wasn't the hottest woman he had ever had. And that face. How had he gotten himself into this? She started rocking her hips forward and back, Nazem resting his hands on her hips. She pushed down, feeling him deeper. He held her still with his hands suddenly, “Hold on, hold on. Ahhh. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He let go and put his hand over his eyes. Elia sat on top of him for a moment.
“Did you just...” she started to say slowly.
“Yeah. I did. Fuck.” he said, his voice a mix of anger and humiliation. Elia carefully pulled herself off of him and lay down in the bed. She stared out the windows at the night sky, watching the walls sliding to the right, then back, then sliding, spinning.
“It's not a big deal you know, shit happens.” she was saying, “We can try again later.”
“You're Elia Downs,” Nazem said.
“Yep.”

A loud buzzing sound awoke Elia abruptly. She sat up and opened her eyes. The apartment was still dark. She looked for the source of the noise, she fell out of bed as she reached for the alarm clock on her night stand. It was five in the morning. She stood up, still spinning from the alcohol, and sat down on the bed. “What's happening?” a voice said behind her. She looked over to see a naked man laying beside her. The events from the night before came back to her. “Hi,” she said lamely. Nazem looked up at her, also trying to recollect what had happened. She stood up and stumbled into the kitchen to get some water. She downed a glass and poured another. “Do you want some water?” she yelled back to Nazem. “Yeah, water.” he said, sounding exhausted and out of it. She brought him a glass of water.
“I have to be on set by six.” she said.
“What time is it?” Nazem asked, propping himself up with one arm.
“Five o'clock.” she replied. He lay back down and closed his eyes again.
“You're welcome to stay here and sleep it off, I don't have any food here or anything, sorry. I had a lot of fun last night.” she said. “But. You can't tell anyone about this. If this gets around, I will deny it, and I will sue you for defamation.” He opened his eyes and looked at her. “I'm sorry but that is unfortunately the way it has to be. If you can live with that though, get my number from Dion. Maybe we can try this again.”
She walked back to the living room and grabbed some necessities from her suitcase. She took a quick shower, trying hard not to tip over, got dressed and left. She felt bad leaving under those circumstances, but she needed to get to work.

The Leafs left for a road trip the next day, and Elia didn't hear from Nazem. She did hear from Elisha that he had gotten her phone number. When Tyler Bozak and Joffrey Lupul had asked him about it at the next practice he had pretended they hadn't left together. He didn't see Elia Downs leave the club, he didn't know where she had gone. She wasn't worried about him calling her though. It had been fun, for a couple minutes, but it was on him to try again. She had other problems on her mind now. Work was exhaustive for the next week. She was putting in long hours on set and still trying to catch up from the lack of sleep on day one. February 10th was approaching fast, and before she knew it, she was getting on a flight back to Boston.

Charity balls were peculiar things in Elia's opinion. They seemed to hinge entirely on the idea that rich people had an inherent desire to see and be seen by other rich people. So much so, that they would pay great sums of money to go to these large parties where the food was usually just okay and the cocktails not much better. Elia had learned early on that money could buy you anything, and so could fame, but something equally as important was the ability to influence others with money. As long as she was still in, people would spend money to wear what she wore, eat what she ate, and buy tickets to charity balls just to say they had hung out with her for an evening. Staying en vogue had come naturally to Elia. People always wanted what they could never fully attain. As soon as she had put out the word that she was hosting a charity ball people were snatching up tickets. Expensive tickets. For a night of eating, drinking, dancing and hanging out with celebrities. The guest list was packed with athletes from all sports, socialites from Manhattan, a handful of actors, artists, and some journalists.
Elia had anticipated a strong paparazzi presence when she arrived in Boston, but it was beyond what she imagined. Just getting out of the airport took almost twenty minutes because of the photographers swarming the car. Kalah had made the trip with her and was so overwhelmed Elia thought she might have a panic attack. Everywhere they went they were mobbed. Luckily there weren't many places they had to go. Elia didn't even plan to stay the night. Once the event was over she was heading back to Toronto.
The event was being held at the JFK Presidential Library pavilion, a beautiful building near the University of Boston. It was built to overlook the Atlantic Ocean, and the architect I.M. Pei had designed half of the building as a large glass pavilion that exposed the sea as well as the sky. When she and Marc had been looking for locations, they both immediately agreed on the space. They stood inside the glass room, looking out between the strange steel bars that criss-crossed over the glass and had felt the same thing. This is what it was like living with post-concussion syndrome. Always seeing out into the world, but still always caged in.
Three hundred and fifty tickets had been sold, and another twenty honorary guests (i.e. people that didn't have to pay) were attending. There would be a cocktail hour, dinner, a few speakers, followed by live music, a silent auction and more drinks. Elia and Kalah arrived early to oversee the finishing touches on set up. A representative from the library walked Elia through the building, making sure she knew the layout. Bathrooms, off-limits areas, de-fibrillators, emergency exits. Two stages had been set up, one close to the tables against a wall with a projection screen behind a small podium. Elia was instructed on how to use the mic, the presentation remote, where to stand. A larger stage was set up further from the tables where special musical guests would perform.
Just before go-time Elia changed into a more formal outfit in one of the staff offices. She hadn't wanted to look too girly in a long formal gown or cocktail dress. Instead she had chosen a pair of sequined high-waisted shorts with a Tom Ford blazer as a top. It buttoned once in the middle, just above her belly button. Her hair was pulled back into a clean, high pony-tail. She put on a simple pair of Dior pumps and Marc Jacobs glasses.
“How do I look?” she asked Kalah.
“Like if Beyonce were teaching a science class?”
“Perfect.”
She was worried about seeing Brad. Maybe he wouldn't show up? She hoped he wouldn't. She needed to get the fire going in her blood. Get into character. Elia Downs is a twenty-six year old actress. Although recently dumped, she gives no fucks for her ex-boyfriend. She only gives fucks for brain health. She took her phone out and pressed play on the song Fuckin' Problems by ASAP Rocky.
“I love bad bitches, that's my fucking problem
And yeah I like to fuck, I got a fucking problem
I love bad bitches, that's my fucking problem”

She sang along, trying to get Kalah to dance.
“Girl, I'm Kendrick Lamar
Aka Benz is to me just a car
That mean your friends need to be up to a par
See my standards are pampered by threesomes tomorrow (uhh)
Brad Marchand is nothing to me Kalah. I'm fuckin' over it. This is going to be fine. Are you ready for this?”
“Uhh, yes?”
“Good. Me too.”

Guests began arriving at 6:00 p.m. Elia and Marc stood near the entrance, just a ways past the coat check, to greet everyone as they arrived. She had gone back and forth on the greeting scenario. Should she have Marc intercept Marchand, or should she just say hello and get it over with? I don't care about that, she kept reminding herself. Elia had been talking to Massachusetts Congressman Michael Capuano when it happened. He was going on about his "Young Witness Assistance Act", which normally would have interested Elia if she hadn't seen Seguin out of the corner of her eye. He stood out in a perfectly tailored light grey suit. And there was Brad, walking in next to him, with his hand holding on to the hand of a beautiful woman walking just behind him. He looked amazing wearing all black. Black suit, black tie, black button down. Black boots. His girlfriend was wearing all black too, a dress by Alexander McQueen that Kim Kardashian had recently worn. The top was sheer cut outs crossed with black fabric across the chest in an x and pointing up to the neck in a triangle. Before she could decide what to do, Tyler Seguin smiled and called out to her.
“It's so great to see you,” he said smugly, leaning down to hug her.
Elia returned the smile, “Thank you so much for coming Tyler.” She turned to Brad next, taking a deep breath and leaning in to half hug him. He said something and leaned in to kiss her cheek, but she didn't comprehend what he was saying. The familiar smell of his cologne had sent a jolt through her chest. Camera flashes seemed to blind her from every direction. She leaned back, trying to regain her composure. She smiled convincingly as she shook Katrina's hand and said how great it was to meet her. They started to walk away when Brad and Elia's eyes met. He was looking at her in a way that puzzled Elia. She couldn't look away, and it wasn't until Katrina pulled Brad forward that the gaze was broken. Elia was thankful to see a friendly face as soon as she turned back to the entrance. Sidney was arriving. He smiled at her.
“That was an amazing performance, you should be an actress or something,” he joked, giving her a hug.
“You think it was okay?” she asked, unsure if he was joking or not.
“No, seriously. I wouldn't have even known you two knew each other.”
She looked at him gratefully. “Thanks. And thanks for coming! I think you're sitting at my table so I'll see you later.”

Once everyone had arrived, Elia and Marc joined everyone for the rest of cocktail hour. Elia wasn't going to drink a lot because she had to give a speech, and had given Kalah strict instructions to make her drink a glass of water for every alcoholic beverage. She was glad that she had gotten the Brad interaction out of the way in the beginning. Now it would be acceptable to politely ignore him the rest of the night. She walked through the crowd, making sure to charm everyone she knew that had money, asking them to consider additional donations to the foundation. Several obliged, and walked over to a table set up for donation pledges. Things were going fabulously, and even an annoying attempt to rile her by Tyler didn't put a damper on her mood. She had been getting in an elevator to use the upstairs ladies room when he had jumped in with her.
“They make a lovely couple, don't they?” he had asked.
“You knew the whole time didn't you Tyler.” Elia said, not really paying attention to him.
He laughed, “Of course, I set them up.”
Elia just smiled and didn't respond.

Everyone sat down for dinner at 7:00. Elia was sitting at table near the front by the stage with her back turned to the Bruins table behind her. Sid was sitting across from her, next to a brunette in a black dress with a lace neckline. Elia had sat them together on purpose, but didn't want to make it obvious. She watched as Sid introduced himself. He was asking her what brought her to the event. She gestured towards Elia and started talking about how they knew each other. Her name was Jessica Springsteen, and she used to ride Elia's horse Cincinnati in eventing competitions before buying her own horse in the fall. She just so happened to train out of a barn in Somerset Pennsylvania, not too far from Pittsburgh. Jessica had made a name for herself as an accomplished equestrian, but was familiar with the pressures of fame because of her father, Bruce Springsteen. She was confident, classy and intelligent. Driven but calm in nature. Elia thought she and Sidney would be perfect for each other.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a conversation happening around her. One she was supposed to be a part of, she realized. She looked back and forth at the women sitting next to her. On her left was Amanda Hearst, heiress to the Hearst corporation and editor at Marie Claire. To her right was Evelyn “Byrdie” Bell, currently New York's It Girl. They were talking about a guy sitting at another table, Andrew Cortina. Byrdie had heard from Alexa Chung who heard it from Tinsley Mortimer that Andrew wanted to meet Elia.
“Which one is he? Don't look! Is he looking?” Elia asked them. They told her to to turn and look at her six o'clock. She started to turn around, trying not to make it look obvious that she was looking for someone. Unintentionally she caught eyes with someone else. Brad. He looked away as soon as he realized she saw him. Elia turned back around.
“I'm not sure which guy you're talking about,” she told them. They were disappointed, but excited to learn that Elia would be filming for a month in New York. Somebody would have to plan a party. Oh! A Hamptons party, it would almost be summer. “How about a weekend long yacht party?” Elia suggested. “Such a good idea Elia, you have the greatest ideas!” Byrdie chattered on enthusiastically. New York's best spring accessory for 2012? Elia Downs!
Elia was relieved when Kalah came to tell her it was time for her to get up on the podium. After she completed her speech she could stop watching what she was drinking. She walked up to the stage and clipped a mic to her top. From the back of the room the audio mixer gave her the thumbs up.

“Good evening! My name is Elia Downs, and I want to personally thank everyone who came out tonight for the inaugural Savard Downs Partnership for Brain Injury Research Winter Ball,” she paused for a moment, “And that was the hardest part of this speech to say, so I'm glad I didn't mess that up.” she paused again for audience laughter. “I hope that everyone has been enjoying themselves thus far tonight.” The room gave a round of applause.
“We are here today however, to raise awareness for an often overlooked consequence of sport: brain injuries. Proceeds from tonight's event go directly to the Boston University CTE Center. I would like to thank Dr. Ann McKee and Dr. Robert Cantu for their attendance tonight as well as their dedication to CTE research. I encourage all the athletes here tonight to speak to them if they get a chance.” Elia cleared her throat and took a sip of water from a glass in the podium.
“On October 26th 2002 I suffered a Severe TBI, or traumatic brain injury. I lost consciousness for almost two weeks, and when I did finally wake up, I had debilitating cognitive deficits to contend with.” She clicked the remote, and a graphic appeared on the projection screen. It was an animation depicting the impact on Elia's head, and the concussion of the brain as it was hit.
“My main point of impact was here, on the occipital lobe. This part of the brain is primarily responsible for visual processing. My eyes were fine, but my brain couldn't process what was coming in anymore. I couldn't see. My speech was slow and slurred. I had trouble controlling my limbs on the left side of my body.
I remember very clearly, the first words I heard when I woke up. Bob Baffert, the horse trainer I rode for, was there. When he saw me open my eyes he said, 'You've had your bell rung harder than I've ever seen kid.'
I think about that a lot. You've had your bell rung. I hear this a lot in sports, and to me it is incredibly symbolic of the perception of brain injuries. The phrase originates from the ringing sound you hear when you've been hit in the head.
My recovery was quicker than anyone had anticipated. I wasn't going to let this slow me down. The Dubai World Cup was in March. I already had twenty offers to ride in the Derby. It was my senior year of high school and I wanted to compete at State with my team. All I had to do was not get hit in the head again, right? My doctors cautioned that I should wait until my headaches subsided before doing sports again. I would say, 'Doctor, my headaches are totally gone. By the way I need a refill on the Vicodin please, thanks.' Nobody was testing my cognitive abilities. My coaches, my riding trainers, if I told them I was fine then I was competing. That was almost ten years ago.
We are taught from a young age to be brave. Bravery means never giving up, and throwing yourself head first into danger. When you fall off a horse, you get back on. I honestly believe the most brave thing I ever did, was to quit.
By the time I retired, I had already incurred permanent brain damage. Sometimes, I have difficulty recognizing faces and places. I frequently wake up with no recollection of where I am. It takes a long time for my brain to focus and figure it out. It's like living in a fog. Hotel rooms are the worst, because they all look the same. I never fully regained control of my left arm. I can't completely close my left fist tight. Sometimes I still get the dots. If I stand up too quickly or turn too quickly. An array of dots floats across my eyes. My memory loss is substantial.
I guess that's just the price I had unknowingly agreed to pay for the glory and all the silver cups collecting dust on a shelf in my office.
My neurologists can't officially tell me I have CTE. Currently it can only be diagnosed postmortem, but they are confident in telling me it will happen. CTE. Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy. It is a condition in which the brain tissue begins to degenerate. It could start tomorrow, five years from now, twenty years from now. The symptoms are varied, but can include poor impulse control, aggression, depression, and impaired judgment. I like to joke with my doctors that I already have all of those problems, so maybe CTE will turn me normal. They never find that+ amusing.”
The audience laughed with her. She continued.
“In a study of twelve American football players done by Dr. McKee between 2008 and 2010, all twelve were found to have CTE. Ongoing research has indicated that not only do repetitive concussions increase the risk of developing CTE, but so can sub-concussive hits to the head. Which means, every hit to the head where there are no concussion symptoms, can still be causing life long brain damage. Every collision a football player makes, every time a soccer player heads a ball, every time a hockey player hits the boards.
We do not yet know the lasting damage of these hits. But we still haven't figured out how to deal with concussions themselves. I'd like to read to you some text messages I received from a friend, who has chosen to remain anonymous at this time. Which is fine.
'Hey, El. Sorry I missed your call yesterday. I dropped my phone and it rolled under my bed. I didn't want to get up. It's just easier not to get up. I don't feel the nausea or spinning if I just lay down. I had to get up this morning. My girlfriend is at her mom's and couldn't bring me food.'”
Elia paused for a moment, taking a drink of water.
“The saddest part about this is that this man was cleared to play in an NHL game two days after sending me these messages. He still suffers from dizziness but hasn't stopped playing.
I'm not here trying to stop sports from being played. But I would like for players to be fully aware of the danger they are putting themselves into. Getting your bell rung isn't something to take lightly. We need to bring attention to brain injuries, not hide them. We need to research what causes long term damage and what the brain can handle. This isn't just about professional athletes, but the millions of children across the world that are participating in sports where they incur repetitive head impacts.
Thanks again for coming out tonight. I would like to introduce the next speaker, my good friend and now co-producer in an upcoming documentary about the NCAA, Houston Texan running back Arian Foster.”
She took off her mic and set it down on the podium as Arian walked up. “Good job girl,” he said to her as he gave her a hug. “I hope you have prepared something a little less boring,” she replied. He laughed and started to put on the mic.
“I love that girl,” Arian said, “You know that girl cares about everything in all sincerity. I want to thank Elia Downs and Marc Savard for organizing this and helping bring attention to this problem.” He indicated for the crowd to give a round of applause, then went into his speech, which focused on exposing the serious risk of concussions and taking the stigma away from sitting out.

Elia felt an emotional rush as she walked off the stage. She didn't mind giving public speeches, but it had been a touch too personal for her. The bartender was ready for her when she walked to the back of the room for a drink. He toasted her with a glass of champagne, telling her it was a great turn out. She thanked him, then turned around to watch Arian. He was a great public speaker, and most importantly, not afraid to criticize the league. She had needed a player that was willing to step forward and back her up. A lot of opponents had been saying she didn't know what she was talking about, she had never played football, or hockey or soccer. Not to mention she was a girl. There was a myth out there that female athletes weren't held to the same “toughness” that men were. The arguments were moot with Foster sending the same message she was.
Sidney came up to her as she was on her second glass of champagne. He gave her a long, tender hug. “Thanks for doing this.” he said, looking down at her. She looked up at him, her head still on his chest, “You're welcome. You're helping me next year.” She felt his chest move as he laughed. They pulled apart. Sid was getting two drinks. “Do you know this girl Jessica that's at our table?” Sid asked. Elia smiled. “Yeah, she's good people. She's mature.” Elia added. Sid smiled and nodded, then walked back to the table. Elia sat down on a bar stool. She didn't feel like sitting at her table right now. She looked outside at the ocean. Snow had started to fall. With the glass ahead and above she felt like she was in a snowglobe. Arian was finishing his speech and introducing the final speaker, Patrick Kiernan. He was going to give a quick talk on brain donation and the brain bank at Boston University. Elia was hoping some of the players there would register to donate by the end of the night. It was really the most important part of this. Money was easier to come by than brains, actually. Finally, Marc was supposed to get up there and announce the musical guest, John Legend. The tables had been cleared of food, and servers were circulating with drinks. Marc may have been afraid of public speaking, but he did a fine job introducing John Legend.
The band started playing, and John's soulful voice flooded through the pavilion.
“I see you move
I'm checking your smile
Working your back like it's going out of style
Shake just a little bit faster
Shake just a little now girl”

Elia got up from the bar to go upstairs. She wanted to let her hair down. Instead of taking the elevator she took the stairs. Now she couldn't be trapped in a small box with Tyler Seguin. Her heels echoed through the cement stairwell as she started up the steps. Part way up she heard the door open and close again. She turned around. Brad had followed her in. She turned back to the stairs and kept going up.
“Elly hold on. I want to talk to you,” he called to her.
She stopped on the landing and looked down at him, “We have nothing to talk about.” There were no words she could possibly think of that needed to be said. He reached the landing, and stood just a few feet away from her. He stared into her eyes, then slowly looked her up and down. Elia pursed her lips. What? He didn't say anything, but took a step towards her. She took a step back. He took another step forward. She bumped into the wall behind her. He put one hand on her face, and one hand on her waist, looking in to her eyes. Elia couldn't stand it. She closed her eyes. She felt him pull her forward, pull her into him.
“Are you with Bissonnette now?” he asked.
“That's none of your business,” she said, trying to push him away.
“I can't be with you,” he said.
“Good,” Elia replied, surprising herself.

“But I still want you.” He pulled her in tighter. She could feel how much he wanted her through his pants. Desire overwhelmed her. She still held her hands against his chest, but had stopped pushing him away. Brad unbuttoned her top and pushed her up against the stairwell wall. His hands on her body were rough. He put his mouth on hers, and the familiar taste and smell of Brad filled her mind. For a second, she thought about kissing him back.

Notes