MAY 2007
When Sidney Crosby told me he wasn’t going anywhere, he was right. The two of us became best friends. I told him when he was being an arrogant bastard and he told me when I was a pain in the ass. We played weekend games of tennis, met for lunch at Shep’s every Wednesday when he wasn’t on the road and hit the clubs with the Pens’ crew. He met my friends, and even hooked up drunkenly with one of my friends. He helped me study for tests, and I passed pucks to him out on the ice.
I was lounging on the couch at home one day when my sister-in-law Stacey came in. Stacey was seven months pregnant with our first niece or nephew, and we were all so excited.
“Hey Stace,” I said.
“Ugh, can the next seven weeks just go already? I’m over being a pregnant lady, I want to be a mommy already!” Then she paused, “On second though, no, I still need to get something to cover the …… what do you call it? The electric thing?”
“What? I have no idea, pregnancy brain.”
“This thing!” She gestured.
“An outlet?”
“Yeah, we need two more of those. So, not yet!” she said, talking to her belly.
Just then my phone lit up, and my face did the same.
“Oh look at you! Who is it texting you?”
“Danny.”
“Danny who? Is this the boy you’re always texting, sissy?”
“No, that’s Sidney.”
“Right. Sidney. Where is he? Who is Danny?”
“Sidney’s just a really great friend. Danny’s the guy I’ve been crushing on.”
“Oh, okay. Anything happening?”
“We’re making progress. He wants me to go out and visit him in California.”
“Not before this baby’s born! My sister Dawn just booked a trip to the Bahamas a week before I’m due.”
“Not me. I’m not going anywhere.”
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
March 2006
MARCH 2006
Anna Kirschner’s point of view:
I glanced at the invitation again. It was so chic and tasteful; I’d expect nothing less of my friend. I’d been to plenty of parties at the Warhol Museum, and they were always exciting. It was just hard to dress up to the high expectations of the classic art hanging on the walls. I knew a few people that would be attending- my big brother, Jake, for one. Jake was the reason I was included in this circle. He just happened to live three floors below Max Talbot, the crux of the Penguins’ social circle. A chance meeting in the elevator with Talbot got me included, plus the fact that Max was a known womanizer and thought I was cute. I went to a game with Jake, and got to meet the “WAGs” of the Pens. Melissa, Vero and Abby were sweethearts and ushered me into their glamorous inner circle. I still had my college friends, but it was nice to hang out with the Pens’ once in a while. Plus, I was fast becoming the devoted hockey fan my dad and five older brothers always hoped I would be.
I slipped into my dress, put on my new high heels and teetered around my bedroom to test them out. They’d be fine, I surmised. With one last spray of my hair, I decided I looked presentable enough and walked shakily down the stairs of my apartment and out to my car.
Twenty five minutes later, I was early for the party. The birthday girl, Vero, looked as beautiful and poised as ever. I was chatting with Colby Armstrong, when a guy of medium build strolled in. I knew immediately who it was- Sidney Crosby. I hadn’t met him yet, but everybody in town knew who he was: the star rookie from Canada. The girls, and even their guys, had been trying to set me up with him. But he kept insisting he was too busy for a girlfriend. Plus, I had my eye on somebody else: Danny Wuster. I’d met him a few weeks ago, when he transferred to Pitt from Pepperdine University in California. He was your stereotypical surfer-guy with tousled, sun-kissed blonde hair and eyes that matched the color of the ocean he’d left behind.
“Anna?” Abby said, snapping me out of my reverie, “What are you doing?”
“Oh, hey!” I said, as we hugged.
“You were just staring at Sidney Crosby, but nobody looked home….”
“Oh shit! I was? How embarrassing.”
Abby laughed, “Silly girl. It’s okay, we all do it.”
In typical Vero fashion, she’d made adorable place cards for us and as I took my seat and looked to the place card to my left, I couldn’t help but look at Vero and snicker. She flashed an eager smile and thumbs up. Goodness, the girl was persistent. I gave her credit.
Sidney Crosby yanked the chair to my left, and sat down. Was his hair wet or was that a lot of gel? I was mulling this over, when he spoke.
“Hi there,” he said to me.
“Hey, I’m Anna Kirschner,” I said.
He looked at me and nodded, “Jake’s sister, right?”
“If you insist…”I said, with a faux dramatic sigh and a look at my brother, who was sitting in uproarious laughter with Max.
Sidney laughed, “Funny girl. I can tell. Same eyes.” He looked closer, looked at my brother, and then back at me. His intense gaze that wasn’t meeting my eyes made me shift in my seat, “Same mouth, too.” My mouth broke into a smile, and his gaze lingered before it rose back to meet my eyes. Sweet Jesus, this boy was intense. I signaled for a glass of champagne.
Sidney’s point of view:
Anna Kirschner proved to be a lot of fun to talk to. She wasn't as alienated and creepy as she seemed when I first saw her gazing absently at me, like a nutty puckbunny. With a witty sense of humor and a definite sweetness about her, we really hit off. I was sad when the partygoers started to slowly leave, and realized I must part from Anna’s entertaining company. The moment really hit me when Anna came to give me a good-bye hug, and found myself offering to walk her to her car. As we arrived at her hand-me-down navy blue Jeep, I leaned against the driver’s side door and said,
“Hey, do you want to exchange numbers? I’m not really looking for a girlfriend or anything right now…but I’d love to hang out.”
“Sure,” she said, she wrote down her number on the back of her place card. “Now, you have to give me yours, because I really like these place cards.”
“I don’t have mine, I left it there.”
“Aw,” she said.
“Sorry.”
“Well, Crosby, you owe me a well-designed, trendy place card with your name on it.”
I laughed, “Alright. I’ll get on that. Stylish place cards are my specialty. Maybe I’ll even get napkins engraved.”
She winked.
I rose from my leaning position on her car door, and held it as she clambered in.
“Watch your ears, chief,” she said as she jammed the key into the ignition and turned it. The most painful, high-pitched sound ever witnessed to my ears elicited from the engine.
“It’s an old car,” she said, giggling at my pained expression.
“Have you had that checked?”
“Yeah, nothing they can do. I just need to save up and get a new, old, car.”
I chuckled, “Get on that. God. You could scare away cities with that.”
“And men,” she said.
“Not me, I’m not going anywhere.”
Anna Kirschner’s point of view:
I glanced at the invitation again. It was so chic and tasteful; I’d expect nothing less of my friend. I’d been to plenty of parties at the Warhol Museum, and they were always exciting. It was just hard to dress up to the high expectations of the classic art hanging on the walls. I knew a few people that would be attending- my big brother, Jake, for one. Jake was the reason I was included in this circle. He just happened to live three floors below Max Talbot, the crux of the Penguins’ social circle. A chance meeting in the elevator with Talbot got me included, plus the fact that Max was a known womanizer and thought I was cute. I went to a game with Jake, and got to meet the “WAGs” of the Pens. Melissa, Vero and Abby were sweethearts and ushered me into their glamorous inner circle. I still had my college friends, but it was nice to hang out with the Pens’ once in a while. Plus, I was fast becoming the devoted hockey fan my dad and five older brothers always hoped I would be.
I slipped into my dress, put on my new high heels and teetered around my bedroom to test them out. They’d be fine, I surmised. With one last spray of my hair, I decided I looked presentable enough and walked shakily down the stairs of my apartment and out to my car.
Twenty five minutes later, I was early for the party. The birthday girl, Vero, looked as beautiful and poised as ever. I was chatting with Colby Armstrong, when a guy of medium build strolled in. I knew immediately who it was- Sidney Crosby. I hadn’t met him yet, but everybody in town knew who he was: the star rookie from Canada. The girls, and even their guys, had been trying to set me up with him. But he kept insisting he was too busy for a girlfriend. Plus, I had my eye on somebody else: Danny Wuster. I’d met him a few weeks ago, when he transferred to Pitt from Pepperdine University in California. He was your stereotypical surfer-guy with tousled, sun-kissed blonde hair and eyes that matched the color of the ocean he’d left behind.
“Anna?” Abby said, snapping me out of my reverie, “What are you doing?”
“Oh, hey!” I said, as we hugged.
“You were just staring at Sidney Crosby, but nobody looked home….”
“Oh shit! I was? How embarrassing.”
Abby laughed, “Silly girl. It’s okay, we all do it.”
In typical Vero fashion, she’d made adorable place cards for us and as I took my seat and looked to the place card to my left, I couldn’t help but look at Vero and snicker. She flashed an eager smile and thumbs up. Goodness, the girl was persistent. I gave her credit.
Sidney Crosby yanked the chair to my left, and sat down. Was his hair wet or was that a lot of gel? I was mulling this over, when he spoke.
“Hi there,” he said to me.
“Hey, I’m Anna Kirschner,” I said.
He looked at me and nodded, “Jake’s sister, right?”
“If you insist…”I said, with a faux dramatic sigh and a look at my brother, who was sitting in uproarious laughter with Max.
Sidney laughed, “Funny girl. I can tell. Same eyes.” He looked closer, looked at my brother, and then back at me. His intense gaze that wasn’t meeting my eyes made me shift in my seat, “Same mouth, too.” My mouth broke into a smile, and his gaze lingered before it rose back to meet my eyes. Sweet Jesus, this boy was intense. I signaled for a glass of champagne.
Sidney’s point of view:
Anna Kirschner proved to be a lot of fun to talk to. She wasn't as alienated and creepy as she seemed when I first saw her gazing absently at me, like a nutty puckbunny. With a witty sense of humor and a definite sweetness about her, we really hit off. I was sad when the partygoers started to slowly leave, and realized I must part from Anna’s entertaining company. The moment really hit me when Anna came to give me a good-bye hug, and found myself offering to walk her to her car. As we arrived at her hand-me-down navy blue Jeep, I leaned against the driver’s side door and said,
“Hey, do you want to exchange numbers? I’m not really looking for a girlfriend or anything right now…but I’d love to hang out.”
“Sure,” she said, she wrote down her number on the back of her place card. “Now, you have to give me yours, because I really like these place cards.”
“I don’t have mine, I left it there.”
“Aw,” she said.
“Sorry.”
“Well, Crosby, you owe me a well-designed, trendy place card with your name on it.”
I laughed, “Alright. I’ll get on that. Stylish place cards are my specialty. Maybe I’ll even get napkins engraved.”
She winked.
I rose from my leaning position on her car door, and held it as she clambered in.
“Watch your ears, chief,” she said as she jammed the key into the ignition and turned it. The most painful, high-pitched sound ever witnessed to my ears elicited from the engine.
“It’s an old car,” she said, giggling at my pained expression.
“Have you had that checked?”
“Yeah, nothing they can do. I just need to save up and get a new, old, car.”
I chuckled, “Get on that. God. You could scare away cities with that.”
“And men,” she said.
“Not me, I’m not going anywhere.”
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