Dancing With a Stranger - Connor McDavid

One • Grayson

The buzzer sounded after a heartbreaking loss, and the fans flooded out of Rogers Place. Upset that the playoff spot which was within reach had been all but a dream after the 3rd period. The boys were pissed off. They had been in so many fights, the penalty minutes raked up and bruises and cuts were sprinkled out amongst the team. The other teams chirps getting into their heads a little too much. Especially Connors.

I can see from my seat against the glass how frustrated my best friend is when he lets out a few expletives, breaks his stick and walks off the ice. I know he was going to go to one of those girls apartments later to try to forget what happened here tonight. And my heart aches at the thought of it.

I slowly make my way to the locker room and lean against the cold brick outside of it. It's so quiet I could hear a pin drop. One after one the boys shuffle out. Leon and Darnel give me a slight nod, as they head toward their girlfriends. Connor comes out last, like he usually does, but his eyes are red, knuckles white. He has a few cuts around his hands and a bruise on his cheek bone. He rarely lets his temper get the best of him. But when he does... I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end.
He walks toward me, the anger seething off him and I refuse to say anything until he does. I think I coware back, and he seems to sense this, as his features soften for me just enough to where I can read him. He's hurting. Physically and emotionally. "Are you ready?" He asks lightly, still angry but trying not to take it out on me as much.

"Yeah let's get out of here." He kisses my forehead and grabs my hand guiding me out to the car. I walk behind him, hands connected, but not saying anything. His stride was hard, and when he looks back to make sure I'm keeping pace I can see his jaw clench. It's sexy almost, seeing him so mad. I hate that he's upset, but damn, it's kind of a turn on.

Connor would never see me that way. He has his string of girls he goes to for pleasure. And as much as I would love to say it doesn't bother me, because we are just friends, it does. It always does.

We both grew up in New Market, and I had lived down the street from him. It was a wonder he was even my friend, because he was gone so much. I had admired him from afar in elementary and middle school, playing hockey on his concrete driveway and in the garage, always stick handling or having his dad pass him pucks to shoot. He was always the hardest worker wherever he went. Finally I had a class with him freshman year and he said hi to me out of the blue.

"Hey, don't you live down the street from me? I see you walking from school a lot. I'm Connor." He said as we sat down next to each other in chemistry.
"Yeah, I'm Grayson nice to meet you." I blushed, surprised that he even knew who I was. "You play hockey right?" He nodded. "I see you working on it in the driveway sometimes. I've wanted to say hi, but you always looked so focused, I didn't want to interrupt."
"You could've interrupted me." He laughed, "Sometimes I just need a break."

From there he asked me to eat lunch with him and we were inseparable ever since. We were attached to the hip. Everybody knew where Connor was, Gray was, and vice versa. I was always at his house after practice, I went to every game, and I was there for the draft. I was at as many Erie Otter games as I could afford to go to and he took me to all the school dances he could afford to go to. He made sure to talk to me every chance he got when he was away. When we had free time, we were together. He was at mine, I was at his. He sort of became this protective brother type. He would always shoo boys away from me, saying he knew what they were like and he didn't want me to get hurt. He stood up for me when people would pick on me, and he was always there to shelter me. It only made sense when he made the move to Edmonton that I would go with him. I hadn't left his side since the 9th grade. We had become so close. People started asking when we were going to start dating when we moved here. He would always shake it off and say, "No it's not like that, were just friends."

I don't want to be caught up with him because I know his life is hectic, and there isn't really room for a serious relationship. But it hurts. Because it feels like in the tiniest of moments, he might be in love with me too.

The way his finger tips graze up and down my back as he hugs me when I'm upset says otherwise.
The way he plants kisses on my forehead whenever he greets me says otherwise.
The way he grabs my hand to lead me anywhere we're going says otherwise.
The way he barges into my apartment whenever he wants, because he has a key, just to say hi or to see me says otherwise.
And the way I'm always the first one he calls after a game, win or loss, to talk about it, or to not talk about it, and everything in between, says otherwise.

But all along it's just, "We're just childhood friends, it's easy with her."

Maybe I had imagined all of those moments. They were miniscule. To the bare eye it didn't seem like much, especially since we've been around each other since forever, but to me, it feels like something, means something more. It also feels like I'm grasping at straws. But then again I know better. Once Connor got drafted and girls started throwing themselves at him, I vowed to myself I wouldn't be just another hook up to him if things ever did change. His friendship is too important for me to just throw caution to the wind because I think I'm in love with him.

We're on the highway before he says anything. I had been on instagram, just scrolling through when he clears his throat. The gravelyness of his voice breaks the slight hum of the radio. "Thank you."
"For what?" I turn to look at him, locking my phone and putting it in my lap.
"For sticking by me when things go to shit." He frowns.
"Con-"
"I'm so grateful for you, ya know. You've been my rock." I grasp his hand over the console and slightly rub the bandaged knuckles. He lets out a small smile.
"Of course. I would do anything for you. I'll always be there for you, you're my best friend." The words sting, even as they roll off my tongue.

I want more than that. It feels like my lungs close up sometimes when I think about it.
He looks slightly irritated again so I decide maybe a movie night wouldn't hurt. "You wanna come over and watch a movie? I can pop some popcorn? And I think I still have some Jujubes left from last time." I try.
He looks hesitant, "I can't, I have some business that I have to take care of."
I try to not look hurt, "Oh okay, maybe next time then." I say.

I know that line. It's the one he uses on me when he has a quick fuck lined up, and I feel my heart drop out of my chest. By the time he pulls up to my building I had already gathered my stuff.

He starts to lean over to kiss my forehead. Like he does every time, but I turn away and get out before he even gets to the center console. I don't want those lips on my skin when I know where they'll be in a few hours.
He looks confused and then moves in his seat to readjust, "Night Gray." His eyes never meeting mine.
"Night Connor." I give a weak smile, shutting the car door.

He waits until I'm in the lobby before driving away and I wave as he leaves with a little piece of me. Like he does everytime we say goodnight.