offsetting minors | s. crosby

Recipe for disaster

Awake, in Justin's case, apparently didn't mean out of the woods. 

Sidney and I had rushed into his room after Natalie had told us that he'd woken up, but we realized quickly that a side effect of his surgery seemed to be memory loss. Justin didn't recognize me at all and seemed shocked to discover that Sidney, who he'd only remembered from watching the games, was here in his hospital room. 

The next day, Dr. Alvarez did a post-op neurological workup on Justin. He seemed pretty confident that Justin's new symptoms were temporary and that they would go away as the swelling in his brain continued to decrease, which got Sidney to quit worrying so much. 

Today, though, was my first free day away from the hospital since I'd began working. So in an effort to actually enjoy my time off instead of concerning myself with the intricacies of Justin's case, I convinced myself that Justin was healing decently and that for the time being, I didn't have to worry about his condition declining. 

Just as I make my way out of bed- where I'd slept in for the first time in what feels like forever- and into the kitchen, my phone dings with a text from Sidney. 

Dress warm, I'll be at your place in 20.

A part of me had hoped that Sidney had forgotten about his promise to take me skating, or at least had some urgent plans come up that would prevent the upcoming tragedy from occurring. The reality of me on skates was a terrifying prospect- in my high school gym class, I'd been known as the girl with absolutely no hand-eye coordination. A trip to the doctor after an accident during a game of dodgeball confirmed that I was left brain but right hand dominant, which basically was a recipe for my disastrous efforts in any physical activity. 

Begrudgingly, I tug on an old college sweatshirt and a pair of my favorite leggings. My makeup is bare-bones- just mascara and chapstick- and my hair looks decent enough so I run a brush through it and leave it in its natural waves. My day off meant that I wasn't going to put any more than minimal effort into my outfit because it was the first time in a while that I could actually choose something other than scrubs to wear, and I was determined to be comfortable if I was destined to spend the afternoon falling flat on my ass in front of the best hockey player in the world. What a way to impress a guy, Elliot. 

I suppose, though, that impressing Sidney isn't exactly the first thing on my agenda since I'm really pushing for this whole 'friends' thing. And the more I think about it, a friend is really what I need in this city. Someone who I can have fun with and complain about my job to without all of the complications and expectations that come with a relationship. Which is why, as I look in the mirror at my casual and unassuming appearance, I feel confident that Sidney can deal with my natural face of makeup and outfit that doesn't do much to flatter my fairly plain figure. 

My doorbell rings a bit later, precisely when Sidney had said he would be here. I open the door to a smiling Sid standing in front of me looking dangerously casual in jeans and a black Penguins hoodie.

"I was really hoping you'd forget about this," I admit as I grab my purse and lock my front door behind me before following him to his Range Rover. 

"Forget a chance to take a pretty girl to the ice? Hell no, especially when it means an unlimited source of entertainment for the afternoon." He laughs and there's an amused smirk playing on his lips, and I know that he's going to be doing a lot of laughing at my expense over the course of the day.

"If you let me fall you'll never hear the end of it, Sidney Crosby." This is supposed to be threatening but I think Sidney just finds it funny because he just laughs and gives me a half-hearted reassurance that I won't be breaking anything today.