Prove It To Me
Slow Motion For Me
*bang bang bang*
"Sid, wake up. You're gonna make the whole team late for practice, its mandatory today!" someone with a French accent bangs on the door.
Must be Flower. I look up at Sid, who still has his arms snuggly wrapped around me. His eyes flutter open and he smiles.
“I’m up… I’m up!” Sid yells back while yawning in-between, “what time is it?”
I roll over to look at the clock.
“Ten thirty,” I reply.
“Shit,” he whispers under his breathe. He rips off the blankets and starts rummaging through his suitcase.
“Could I watch you practice today?” I ask.
“Yeah sure, just quickly throw on some clothes, there’s no time to put makeup on or anything,” he says quickly as he puts on a shirt.
“Fine,” I say with a sigh.
In five minutes we’re ready to head out the door. Sid is wearing is signature yellow crocs and Pens baseball cap, along with jeans and a Penguins track jacket. I’m wearing this: http://www.polyvore.com/prove_it_to_me/set?id=88201645. We sprint to the bus to find all the guys sitting and waiting for us impatiently. I feel awkward being the only girl, Sid seems to sense it, and he takes hold of my arm and leads me to the back of the bus where there are two empty seats. Along the way I notice there are mixed emotions on his teammate’s faces. Some are smirking, some are glaring, and others are just flat out laughing.
“Don’t mind them,” Sid says rubbing my arm.
“Good morning Sid… Rebecca.”
I turn my head to the seats across the aisle from us to find James and Geno grinning.
“Morning,” I say.
“You both sleep good?” Geno asks, elbowing James and grinning.
“We slept fine,” Sid replies sharply and stares at the seat in front of him, eyebrows furrowed.
James and Geno burst into hysterical laughter. It’s so contagious, that I start giggling too. Eventually, Sid lets out a smile. For the rest of the ride to the rink, we continue to be tortured by them. Once inside the arena, I see Dan walk towards the group with an unreadable expression on his face.
“Sid, I need to talk to you,” Dan barks.
“Umm… ok,” Sid replies, uneasy.
They walk off together into another hallway for privacy. I think I hear Dan ask Sid if he’s gotten his messages. Now that I think about it, I don’t think Sid has checked his phone since we got to Boston.
“We go change now, you can sit in seat by ice,” Geno informs me, interrupting my thoughts.
“Ok thank you,” I respond.
I continue to stand and wait for Sid to get back from his discussion with Dan, but Geno also continues to stand behind me, waiting for me to go. After a few more awkward seconds I relent with a sigh and go find a seat in the stands behind the glass. As soon as I sit down in a spot behind the bench, I feel my phone vibrate. Because of long distance charges, I’ve neglected to check my phone since we arrived here, but while the boys are still changing and I have nothing else to do, I might as well just see who’s texting me. When I unlock my screen I find twenty messages. Fifteen from Lindsay, and five from my parents. It suddenly hits me that I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving town. They all must be so worried. Even though it costs around ten cents per text, I send a few messages to both my parents reassuring them of my safety and to Lindsay that no, Kyle did not kidnap me, rape me, and lock me up in his closet. Just as I finish up replying to everyone, I hear the soothing sound of skates gliding onto the ice. I look up and see Sid in his practice gear. He smiles at me, but it’s forced. Before I can say anything, Dan appears at the bench and the rest of the guys start hitting the ice. Dan blows his whistle and they all gather around the bench.
“So today we’re going to fine tune our….” He starts to yell, but I soon tune it out and focus on Sid.
Sid looks troubled. I spend the rest of practice watching him, trying to figure out what’s wrong. Either his teammates don’t notice, or this is normal after a talk with the coach.
After practice, I wait outside of the locker rooms for Sid. He’s the last one out, which is apparently normal because of all the interviews he does with the media.
“Hey,” he says.
There’s that forced smile again.
“Is there something wrong?” I ask, concerned.
“We’ll talk about it back at the hotel, ok?” he answers, avoiding eye contact.
We don’t talk on the way back to the hotel. There is a tension in the air between us now that I don’t yet understand.
Once we’re back in the hotel room, I immediately ask, “What did you and Dan talk about?”
It takes him awhile to speak, when he’s ready he takes a deep breathe, “He said that you aren’t allowed to come on road trips with us anymore because you’re too much of a distraction, and that if I continue to lose focus in games then it might be best if I’m not in a relationship right now because I don’t seem mature enough to balance one with work.”
At first I’m mad, not at Sid, at Dan.
Then I say in defeat, “He’s right.”
“What?” Sid says is disbelief.
“Maybe its better you focus completely on the team. They need you.”
“The team needs me just as much as I need you! I’m sick and tired of every little thing in my life revolving around hockey!” he shouts in frustration, “look, I love the sport, and the team, but I have the right to a relationship with a beautiful and perfect girl. There’s nothing Dan can do to stop that.”
At this point, Sid has cupped my face in his hands. So I kiss him, and it’s even more passionate than the kiss the night before. This time, there is a hint of anger, roughness, but by the time we’re done we’ve both calmed down.
“Dan was serious when he said you can’t come on road trips anymore though…”
“That’s fine. I do need to work you know.”
“Oh that’s right. You have a job.”
We laugh together, so hard in fact, that we end up holding our stomachs on the bed. I really don’t know how it happens. Nothing we say is ever really that funny, I guess we’re just happy. Slowly our laughter is replaced with snoring, and we nap for a few hours.
I’m instantly awakened by the blaring sound of “Slow Motion” by Juvenile. That’s definitely not my alarm. I begin to laugh again when I realize it must be Sid’s.
“What? That’s my five o’clock PB&J alarm,” Sid says in his defense, which only makes me laugh even more.
He starts to dial a number on the hotel room phone.
“Hello? Room service? Yes, I’d like 4 slices of bread, peanut butter, and jam sent to room number eighty seven. Alright, thank you.”
“Is this seriously room number eighty seven?” I ask.
“Yes, didn’t you notice?”
“No!”
“Go check for yourself.”
I run to the door and open it a crack so I can see the number. Sure enough, it says eighty seven.
Shaking my head I return to the bed and flip channels on the television for a few minutes till the room service arrives.
Sid is already taking his first bite of his sandwich when he asks with his mouth full again, “are you sure you don’t want one?”
“I already told you I don’t like PB&J sandwiches.”
This time it’s Sid’s turn to shake his head as he takes another bite.
"Sid, wake up. You're gonna make the whole team late for practice, its mandatory today!" someone with a French accent bangs on the door.
Must be Flower. I look up at Sid, who still has his arms snuggly wrapped around me. His eyes flutter open and he smiles.
“I’m up… I’m up!” Sid yells back while yawning in-between, “what time is it?”
I roll over to look at the clock.
“Ten thirty,” I reply.
“Shit,” he whispers under his breathe. He rips off the blankets and starts rummaging through his suitcase.
“Could I watch you practice today?” I ask.
“Yeah sure, just quickly throw on some clothes, there’s no time to put makeup on or anything,” he says quickly as he puts on a shirt.
“Fine,” I say with a sigh.
In five minutes we’re ready to head out the door. Sid is wearing is signature yellow crocs and Pens baseball cap, along with jeans and a Penguins track jacket. I’m wearing this: http://www.polyvore.com/prove_it_to_me/set?id=88201645. We sprint to the bus to find all the guys sitting and waiting for us impatiently. I feel awkward being the only girl, Sid seems to sense it, and he takes hold of my arm and leads me to the back of the bus where there are two empty seats. Along the way I notice there are mixed emotions on his teammate’s faces. Some are smirking, some are glaring, and others are just flat out laughing.
“Don’t mind them,” Sid says rubbing my arm.
“Good morning Sid… Rebecca.”
I turn my head to the seats across the aisle from us to find James and Geno grinning.
“Morning,” I say.
“You both sleep good?” Geno asks, elbowing James and grinning.
“We slept fine,” Sid replies sharply and stares at the seat in front of him, eyebrows furrowed.
James and Geno burst into hysterical laughter. It’s so contagious, that I start giggling too. Eventually, Sid lets out a smile. For the rest of the ride to the rink, we continue to be tortured by them. Once inside the arena, I see Dan walk towards the group with an unreadable expression on his face.
“Sid, I need to talk to you,” Dan barks.
“Umm… ok,” Sid replies, uneasy.
They walk off together into another hallway for privacy. I think I hear Dan ask Sid if he’s gotten his messages. Now that I think about it, I don’t think Sid has checked his phone since we got to Boston.
“We go change now, you can sit in seat by ice,” Geno informs me, interrupting my thoughts.
“Ok thank you,” I respond.
I continue to stand and wait for Sid to get back from his discussion with Dan, but Geno also continues to stand behind me, waiting for me to go. After a few more awkward seconds I relent with a sigh and go find a seat in the stands behind the glass. As soon as I sit down in a spot behind the bench, I feel my phone vibrate. Because of long distance charges, I’ve neglected to check my phone since we arrived here, but while the boys are still changing and I have nothing else to do, I might as well just see who’s texting me. When I unlock my screen I find twenty messages. Fifteen from Lindsay, and five from my parents. It suddenly hits me that I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving town. They all must be so worried. Even though it costs around ten cents per text, I send a few messages to both my parents reassuring them of my safety and to Lindsay that no, Kyle did not kidnap me, rape me, and lock me up in his closet. Just as I finish up replying to everyone, I hear the soothing sound of skates gliding onto the ice. I look up and see Sid in his practice gear. He smiles at me, but it’s forced. Before I can say anything, Dan appears at the bench and the rest of the guys start hitting the ice. Dan blows his whistle and they all gather around the bench.
“So today we’re going to fine tune our….” He starts to yell, but I soon tune it out and focus on Sid.
Sid looks troubled. I spend the rest of practice watching him, trying to figure out what’s wrong. Either his teammates don’t notice, or this is normal after a talk with the coach.
After practice, I wait outside of the locker rooms for Sid. He’s the last one out, which is apparently normal because of all the interviews he does with the media.
“Hey,” he says.
There’s that forced smile again.
“Is there something wrong?” I ask, concerned.
“We’ll talk about it back at the hotel, ok?” he answers, avoiding eye contact.
We don’t talk on the way back to the hotel. There is a tension in the air between us now that I don’t yet understand.
Once we’re back in the hotel room, I immediately ask, “What did you and Dan talk about?”
It takes him awhile to speak, when he’s ready he takes a deep breathe, “He said that you aren’t allowed to come on road trips with us anymore because you’re too much of a distraction, and that if I continue to lose focus in games then it might be best if I’m not in a relationship right now because I don’t seem mature enough to balance one with work.”
At first I’m mad, not at Sid, at Dan.
Then I say in defeat, “He’s right.”
“What?” Sid says is disbelief.
“Maybe its better you focus completely on the team. They need you.”
“The team needs me just as much as I need you! I’m sick and tired of every little thing in my life revolving around hockey!” he shouts in frustration, “look, I love the sport, and the team, but I have the right to a relationship with a beautiful and perfect girl. There’s nothing Dan can do to stop that.”
At this point, Sid has cupped my face in his hands. So I kiss him, and it’s even more passionate than the kiss the night before. This time, there is a hint of anger, roughness, but by the time we’re done we’ve both calmed down.
“Dan was serious when he said you can’t come on road trips anymore though…”
“That’s fine. I do need to work you know.”
“Oh that’s right. You have a job.”
We laugh together, so hard in fact, that we end up holding our stomachs on the bed. I really don’t know how it happens. Nothing we say is ever really that funny, I guess we’re just happy. Slowly our laughter is replaced with snoring, and we nap for a few hours.
I’m instantly awakened by the blaring sound of “Slow Motion” by Juvenile. That’s definitely not my alarm. I begin to laugh again when I realize it must be Sid’s.
“What? That’s my five o’clock PB&J alarm,” Sid says in his defense, which only makes me laugh even more.
He starts to dial a number on the hotel room phone.
“Hello? Room service? Yes, I’d like 4 slices of bread, peanut butter, and jam sent to room number eighty seven. Alright, thank you.”
“Is this seriously room number eighty seven?” I ask.
“Yes, didn’t you notice?”
“No!”
“Go check for yourself.”
I run to the door and open it a crack so I can see the number. Sure enough, it says eighty seven.
Shaking my head I return to the bed and flip channels on the television for a few minutes till the room service arrives.
Sid is already taking his first bite of his sandwich when he asks with his mouth full again, “are you sure you don’t want one?”
“I already told you I don’t like PB&J sandwiches.”
This time it’s Sid’s turn to shake his head as he takes another bite.
cute
4/9/14