"I need to say something." He seemed totally taken aback by my comment, but was willing to listen.
"What's up?" The car was in park, he was completely focused on me, and his eyes followed mine.
"Well... How do I put this nicely... Patrick Kane is a douche bag." I totally lied.
"Well, yeah, everyone knows that. Is that really what you wanted to tell me?" I nodded.
"Yes. You can go home now."
Jesus, lying isn't easy, but hey, I can do it.
What really killed me was saying that I actually like him back. But I couldn't tell him that. I was not about to say, "hey, I really like you" And throw a huge-ass curveball at him.
"Danielle, you've barely said a word to me since-." He sounded so annoyed. I put a hand up.
"I'm just tired," I lied again.
He kept his eyes on the road and drove me home.
"Are you mad," I asked quietly.
No response.
"Jonathan I'm sorry if I-." He cut me off.
"No. You're fine." We got to my house and I got out, slamming the door for effect.
Once I got inside, I noticed Miles was gone, so I laid on the couch and watched TV.
My phone buzzed but I wasn't bothered to answer it. Then I got a text message but wasn't bothered to read that, either.
I'm pretty sure Jonathan's mad at me, but I'm also pretty sure I don't give a fuck.
"Danielle, open this door. I've got a pizza and a friend with a six-pack of beer." I couldn't tell if it was miles or Jonathan.
"Wait, if you're Miles, you'd barge in instead of waiting for me to open the door." I still sat there.
"True, but I have a friend with me, and he says for you to open the door." Okay, so it was Miles.
"I'm coming." I got up and there he was with a six-pack and Jonathan.
"Hello," he retorted.
"Jonathan," I muttered.
"What was that?" He eyed me very carefully.
"Oh nothing. Come on in!" I put on a fake smile and sounded as cheerful as I could.
"Where do you want the beer and pizza?" Miles asked, trying to break the tension.
"In the kitchen, thanks." I walked back over to the couch and started channel surfing.
"Hey, can we talk?" Jonathan asked, turning off the TV.
"Hey, I was watching that," I snapped.
"Talk to me." He blocked my view.
"No." I stood my damn ground.
"Uh, pizza's getting cold guys." Miles smiled awkwardly.
"We'll be there in a sec." Jonathan answered for me.
"Alright, I..." I couldn't find the right words to say. "I...I really...I really hated going up to Winnipeg." My arms were crossed and I was facing the wall. I just can't say it.
"You should've said something to me earlier. You seemed so pumped about going," he said quietly.
Damn, I hate it when he gets all quiet.
"Well, let's eat, huh?" Miles came into the room and escorted us to eat.
"Hey, thanks for the pizza, but I've gotta head out. I promised crow I'd help him out some with slap shots." He nodded us off and left.
"I hate him so much," I muttered.
"Oh, so now you hate him? Please, tell me more." Miles said with a hint of sarcasm.
"Oh shut up." I pushed away my half-eaten pizza and unopened beer and went upstairs to bed.
I laid in bed for what seemed like hours until I felt a pair of arms wrap around my still, and lifeless body. I was a bit surprised to see Miles laying next to me, but I guess I really wasn't.
"Are you okay?" He asked quietly.
"No. He's real mad at me for not enjoying the quick getaway to Winnipeg." I turned to face Miles and buried my face into his chest.
"I'm sure he's not that mad... He's probably just tired from traveling, that's all." He kissed the tip of my head before leaving.
"I mean I did like the idea and whatnot, but once I realized I was hungover, I was not that happy." I tried to keep Miles in the room, but he had peaced out.
I could hear my phone ring just as I settled into dreamland.
"Hello?" I answered carefully.
"Hi, Danielle. Care to join me and the guys for a drink?" Jonathan responded.
"Um, no thanks. I've got a lot of work to do," I lied.
"Oh. Okay. Well, call me when you're done. I want to-." BAM! I shut him off just like that.
He wants to apologize, but I won't let him.
He's done way too much to me already.
YOU ARE READING
Own The Moment
Fanfiction"I'm Jonathan Toews," he stated. "I know," I replied. He put his arm around me, letting my head fall slowly onto his chest. "Then why does it matter if I'm a hockey player?" He asked suddenly raising his eyebrows, "It doesn't," I muttered, going...
