TWENTY-ONE

Instead of returning to my apartment, I drove to Marc and Sylvie's house. I was relieved to see Sylvie's gray SUV in the driveway, signaling she was home. I entered the house without knocking and found Sylvie in the living room, flipping through her portfolio.

"Hey," she greeted. "Isn't it a little early for your lunch break?"

I shook my head. "Left the office early. Last day," I stammered. "Water?" I fell onto the couch and clenched my eyes shut. I felt like I was about to pass out. My right hand was gripping the manila folder that Christopher had given me so tightly the pages were beginning to wrinkle.

Sylvie hurried into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. "What happened? Did you tell Sidney?" I shook my head and handed Sylvie the folder. She opened it with a very confused expression on her face. As her eyes scanned the various documents all relating to Paris, she slowly began to understand. "They even gave you your plane ticket," she observed softly.

"Look at the date," I said between gulps of water.

She couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm sorry, this isn't funny," she immediately amended.

"Oh, no, it's hilarious. My entire life is a fucking joke," I spat. "I mean, not that it matters I'm leaving on Valentine's Day, because by that time Sid and I will have broken up."

"Wait," Sylvie interrupted. "You're going to break up with him?"

"I don't have a choice, Syl. What am I supposed to tell him? 'Sid, you're a great guy and I am madly in love with you, but I have to leave for Paris on Valentine's Day. PPG's forcing me to accept a promotion there because the universe hates me. I don't know when I'll be back, but you'll wait for me right? I mean, it isn't like you have tons of women throwing themselves at you everyday.'"

"He would wait for you," Sylvie replied quietly.

"I can't ask him to do that. It's so unfair."

"Are you going to be okay?"

I sat up and took the folder from Sylvie. "Yeah, I'm going to be fine," I replied with determination. "Because you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to bury this somewhere and not think about it until after January 1st. Because I'm going to have a good Christmas, damnit!" I yelled the last part, causing Sylvie to flinch. I jumped to my feet, feeling completely energized for the first time in a week.

I sped the entire way home, arriving at my building in record time. I ran up the stairs and into my apartment, where I shoved the wrinkled folder into my desk drawer. I brushed off my hands, feeling like I had been contaminated by even touching the plane ticket, and walked into the living room. I had an irrepressible urge to play hockey, but I didn't want to drive all the way to Southpointe and I didn't feel comfortable playing in the Igloo without Sidney. I glanced at the empty wastebasket sitting beside my desk and grinned. I set it on its side against the far wall of the living room and retrieved my stick and a soft street hockey ball from the bedroom. Standing in the kitchen, I raised my stick and executed the perfect slapshot, with the ball landing dead center in the wastebasket. I repeated this over and over, with each shot harder than the last.

"What the hell are you doing?" I heard Sidney ask after I was into my second hour of my indoor slapshot marathon.

"Accuracy drills," I replied shortly, hitting the soft rubber ball so hard it spun the waste basket around. I gave Sid a kiss. "How was Boston?"

"Cold," he replied. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"We all left early," I lied.

"Cool. Nathalie is making the team lunch if you wanna come."

"No thanks. I need to start packing." Sid and I were leaving for Montreal as soon as his game on Sunday was over, and then were returning to Pittsburgh on the 26th.

Sid dropped his bag in the bedroom and retrieved a clean pair of workout clothes and packed a duffel bag with everything he would need for the game tonight. "Alright. I'll see you tonight, then."

"See you." As soon as Sidney closed the door behind him, I reclined on the couch. My arms felt like jelly, but I had succeeded in pushing Paris far out of my mind. As far as I was concerned, that manila folder didn't even exist.

***

By game time that evening, my zombie-like state had returned. I had spent the day packing suitcases for Sid and me, which was an activity that involved a lot of time for me to think. As I folded several outfits into my suitcase, I had thought about how I would be doing this with all of my belongings in two short months. I began to sob uncontrollably, glad that Sid wasn't around to see me. January 7th now loomed like an unpleasant deadline: by then, I had to tell Sidney about my job. He had accepted my lie that I had two weeks off for the holidays without question, but there was no way I could convince him PPG gave me a two month vacation.

I couldn't concentrate on the game at all, and it was over before I even realized we were in the third period. The Pens lost to the Islanders by two goals. As much as I hated to admit it, I was slightly relieved the Pens lost, because I wasn't in the mood to go out and celebrate a win. I knew after such a disappointing loss Sid would just want to return home.

Sid drove to the apartment, both of us not saying a word but for completely different reasons. I unlocked the door and immediately went to bed, while Sid stayed in the living room and watched television. I pretended to be asleep when he slid into bed beside me an hour later, but I was actually wide awake. I didn't sleep until four in the morning.

TWENTY

"It's great to see you again, Karine!" Trina greeted me with a warm hug. "How have you been?"

"I've been well," I replied as Sidney pulled out my chair for me. We had met Troy, Trina, and Taylor at a steakhouse only a few blocks away from our apartment. "Taylor, how's school going?"

Sidney's 12-year-old sister shrugged. "I'm on holiday break until the second week of January. I would rather be out for the summer."

"So, Karine, how's work?" Troy asked.

I tried to maintain a neutral expression and plastered a fake smile across my face. "Work's going well," I replied robotically. There was an awkward silence, and I realized the Crosbys were expecting me to elaborate. But I had nothing else to say.

"Karine isn't feeling very well," Sid said, almost apologetically. "She thinks she's getting a cold." I nodded, that stupid smile still fixed on my face.

"Oh, no," Trina replied sympathetically. "And this close to the holidays. Well, take care of her, Sidney."

"Speaking of the holidays, I understand you're stealing my son for Christmas," Troy joked.

I forced a laugh and nodded again. I probably looked like a freaking bobble head. "My parents bought us plane tickets and told us we were spending Christmas in Montreal…I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," Troy replied. "You'll just have to spend next year with us."

My fake smile grew even wider as I tried to hide the pain that came with Troy's mention of 'next year.' Next year, I would be in Paris. Next year, Sidney and I probably wouldn't be together anymore.

I passed the rest of dinner by never allowing my painfully false smile to leave my face. I didn't talk much, limiting my conversation to brief, vague sentences. I hid behind the excuse that I was getting sick, even though I knew I wasn't. My physical state had nothing to do with the common cold. I was exhausted and stressed because I knew my life was about to do a complete 360 degree turn in a very short time.

"Go to bed," Sid ordered when we returned to the apartment. "You look terrible."

"Thanks," I replied sarcastically. I trudged into the bedroom and pulled on a pair of flannel pajamas. "I'm sorry I was so weird at dinner. I just feel like I'm going through a cloud right now."

"Do you want me to call Christopher and tell him you won't be in tomorrow?"

"No, I have to go to work. I'll probably be fine after a good night's sleep."

"Okay." Sid brushed my hair out of my face and kissed my forehead. "If you need anything, I'll be in the living room. Are you warm enough?" he asked as he tucked me in.

I smiled at his concern. "I'm fine," I promised, resting my hand against his cheek. "Just don't try to cook, okay?"

Sid laughed and kissed my hand. "Okay."

***

"Karine! Karine!" Sidney's voice sounded almost frightened and he was shaking me awake.

"Huhhh," I groaned, turning to face him.

"You were yelling in your sleep. Something about Paris?"

My stomach lurched. "What…what did I say?" I stammered.

"You kept yelling 'I won't go.'" Sid smirked. "You know, for being French, you really hate that city."

"You have no idea," I replied bluntly.

***

I spent the next week cleaning out my desk and discreetly moving things from the office to my apartment. Sidney was on a two-game road trip to Philadelphia and New York from Tuesday to Thursday, so in that time I buried boxes of office supplies and documents deep in our closet where I hoped he wouldn't find them.

On Friday, I entered the office to find a large banner hanging above the door. "Au Revoir, Karine!" it read in huge red letters. I contemplated turning around and leaving the building, but instead gritted my teeth and was greeted by all my coworkers gathered around a large cake decorated to look like the Eiffel Tower.

"Pittsburgh didn't keep you long, did it?" Brad said as he handed me a slice of cake.

"I would rather be in Pittsburgh than Paris," I mumbled.

"You don't want to go?" he asked, looking shocked. "Why? It isn't because of Crosby, is it?" I noticed Brad said Sid's last name with a hint of contempt in his voice.

"I don't want to talk about it."

A few minutes later, Christopher called me into his office. "We have everything arranged in Paris," he said brightly, handing me a manila folder. I opened it and found a plane ticket and information regarding my apartment and new job.

I hesitated before picking up the plane ticket. My eyes flew to the departure date: February 14th. Valentine's Day. This has to be some kind of sick joke, I thought.

"Is there a problem, Karine?" Christopher asked, reading the disgusted expression on my face.

"Probably not," I replied bitterly. Christopher looked at my strangely and I gave him a half-hearted smile. "Is there any reason for me to be in the office today?"

"Well, no, not really. I mean, unless you wanted to say goodbye to everyone."

"I'd rather go home," I replied sharply.

"Alright. Well, good luck in Paris. I know you'll do spectacularly." I shook his hand and quickly left the office, not even glancing at my coworkers as I walked out the door.

NINETEEN

Sid returned home around midnight, looking absolutely exhausted. "I would rather play eighteen straight periods of hockey than do an interview and photo shoot," he groaned, joining me on the couch. He glanced at the half-empty wine bottle that was resting on the coffee table and a frown passed across his face. "Have you been drinking?"

"Yeah," I replied in what I hoped was a calm voice. The minute Sid walked in the door my heart began to race. I looked into his brown eyes and ran my hand through his silky hair and smiled sadly. I felt a sob begin to form in my throat and knew I couldn't tell him. Not tonight. "I'm celebrating," I lied. "Christopher told me that I have two weeks off for Christmas."

"Two weeks!" Sid repeated. "That's great! I'll drink to that." He poured himself a glass of wine and tapped it against my empty glass.

"I have to work all next week, and then I'm off until January 7th." I winced slightly, hating myself for how easily I lied to my boyfriend.

"You can come to the Winter Classic with me!" he said happily.

"Yeah!" I replied, trying to match the excitement in Sid's voice. I averted my eyes to the floor and blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears that were inevitably going to surface. It killed me that I was lying to Sidney, but I wasn't ready to tell him I was leaving. After the Winter Classic, I told myself. I wanted the holidays to be perfect, and although the situation would be looming over my head I didn't need to have Sidney worry about it too.

***

I stayed in bed until two the next afternoon—something very out of character for me. Sidney had left earlier in the morning for New York, where the Penguins were playing the Islanders at seven. He had asked me to come with him, but I made up an excuse about having to catch up on work. Another lie. The truth was I couldn't even look at Sidney without wanting to cry. I knew I needed to tell him about France, but I just couldn't. I was being weak and I hated myself for it, but I knew Sid would be devastated to learn that I chose a job over him.

I was completely awake but couldn't find the motivation to get out of bed. I was mentally exhausted and all I wanted to do was lie in bed all day and not speak to anyone. Unfortunately, I had invited Sylvie over to watch the game tonight.

I rolled out of bed, took a shower, and threw on a pair of ancient sweatpants and a Penguins tee shirt. I cleaned the apartment and then contemplated going shopping and indulging in a little retail therapy, but I didn't want to leave my apartment.

This is bad, I thought. I had never felt too apathetic to shop before.

***

"I really hope Marc's ankle heals soon," Sylvie said as I turned on FSN to watch the game. "I've never seen him so mopey. It's almost unbearable."

"How long is he out?"

"At least two months. Maybe more, if Coach thinks Conklin is the better goalie."

"He'll be playing again soon. You can't keep the Québécois down."

"You've got that right, sister," she replied, raising her beer bottle in a toast. "Is everything alright? You seem kind of distant."

I rubbed my forehead and sighed. "Actually, I need to talk to you. I'm kind of…keeping something from Sidney."

"Is everything okay?" Sylvie asked, panic rising in her eyes. "Are you…pregnant?" she added in a hushed tone.

I smiled bitterly. At this point, I would prefer pregnancy to France. "No, no. It has something to do with work. I got a promotion."

"Karine! That's amazing! Why won't you tell him?"

"It's in France."

"Ohhh," Sylvie replied, her expression darkening. "Are you going to take it?"

"I don't have a choice. If I don't go to France, I lose my job."

"Oh, no," Sylvie breathed. "When did you find this out?"

"Yesterday."

"Why haven't you told Sidney?"

I shrugged. "It's so close to Christmas…we're going to my parents' on the 23rd and I want it to be a good time. I don't want this dark cloud hovering over us during the holidays."

Sylvie paused and took a sip of her beer. "I think you're making excuses. I think the real reason why you haven't told Sidney yet is because you're not sure if you should leave, and by telling him it would make it final." She held her breath and braced for me to argue.

I opened my mouth to protest, but then I realized Sylvie was right. "I don't want to go, but I have to," I said, tears running down my cheeks.

"When are you going to tell him?"

"After the Winter Classic."

"Do you think you should wait that long?"

"I won't be leaving until February. And I really want the next couple weeks to be good, you know? I don't want us fighting over Christmas." I sighed and peeled the label off my beer bottle. "I don't know how I'm going to tell him."

"Are you sure it's worth it?"

"I don't have a choice, Sylvie."

"You could find another job."

"I was lucky to get this one. Even if I did find a different job, I'd probably have to move anyway."

Sylvie nodded slowly. "You're going to break his heart."

Tears clouded my vision. "I know," I whispered.

Sylvie and I watched the game in near silence. I could tell she was stressed out about Marc's injury and his future in Pittsburgh, and I wanted to be there for her, but my mind was full with thoughts of Paris. I ran through all the possible ways I could break the news to Sidney and the ways he would react, each one worst than the last.

I went to bed as soon as the game was over, and Sid accidently woke me up when he arrived home early in the morning. My eyes fluttered open and I realized it was still dark out.

"Sorry," he whispered when I turned to face him as he was sliding into bed beside me.

"It's okay," I replied thickly. "Good game."

Sid brightened. "I wish you could've been there." He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. I rested my head against his chest and inhaled deeply. He smelled like soap and a familiar sweet smell I couldn't identify—all I knew was it was his smell. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

I clenched my eyes shut tight and nodded. "I'm just tired."

"I'm sorry for waking you," Sid replied softly, kissing my forehead. "We can sleep in."

"I love you," I whispered.

"I love you, too."

***

I woke up a few hours later and smelled something burning. I hurried into the kitchen, where I found Sidney scraping a charred mess off of a skillet and into the trash.

"What happened?" I asked, trying to stifle a laugh.

"I tried to make you scrambled eggs," Sid replied apologetically.

"Sweetie, you should know by now…"

"I know, I can't cook. But that doesn't mean I have to stop trying."

"Well, ah, maybe you should," I said, peering at the blackened mess that must have resembled eggs at one point. "It's okay, I'm not hungry anyway."

"Hey, are you feeling alright?" Sid asked, staring at me with a slight frown. "You don't look so good."

"Yeah, I'm just tired," I replied with a weak smile. And that, for once, was the truth. The past two nights I had slept more than usual, but I had never been so exhausted. I knew it had everything to do with work.

"Go back to bed. It's only eight."

"No, I won't be able to fall back asleep. Besides, someone has to make you breakfast."

"Crêpes?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course."

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. My parents are in town for the day. They were in New York for the game yesterday and came back with the team. They want to take us out for dinner."

I stirred the batter and nodded. I had met his family at the home opener, but hadn't seen or spoken to them since. "So they know we're together?"

Sid grinned. "Yeah. I told them in November. After we, uh, made up," he said awkwardly. I poured the batter into a skillet and didn't say anything. Our fight was still somewhat of a sore subject. "My father said he knew the first time he saw you with me we would end up together."

"Smart guy," I replied simply.

"Do you want coffee or something? You seem really…off."

"I'm sorry, babe," I sighed, pulling him into a hug. "I think I might be getting sick." I suppressed a sigh as the lie escaped from my mouth. Besides being competely exhausted, I felt physically fine. I just didn't want Sid asking questions and forcing me to tell him about work before I was ready.

Sid stepped back. "Don't get me sick!" he exclaimed.

"You don't want my germs?" I stuck out my bottom lip and crossed my arms, pretending to be hurt.

"I'm going to get you medicine. I can't afford to get sick right now. Not with Marc out." He pulled on his wool pea coat and grabbed his keys. "I'll be back soon."

I laughed as I watched him hurry out the door, and then suddenly got very sad. I tried to push all thoughts of work out of my head, but once again the phrase relocate to Paris floated through my consciousness. I hummed a random song loudly, trying to concentrate on anything else.

EIGHTEEN

I happily drew an "X" over December 14th on my desk calendar. The work day was officially over, and I only had one full work week to push through before I could leave for Montreal with Sidney for Christmas.

"Karine, could I talk to you in the meeting room?" Christopher asked as I was gathering my things to leave. "We won't keep you long." I hesitantly entered the meeting room and was greeted by Christopher and another man I recognized as the head of International Affairs. "Have a seat," Christopher said with a huge smile. "You know Mr. Litton, our head of IA."

Litton gave me a small nod as a greeting and cleared his throat. "Karine, we have an offer to make."

"Oh?" I replied, feeling my spirits lift slightly. I had assumed I was being called into the meeting room because I had done something wrong.

"As I'm sure you know, PPG has been working to acquire several French firms and expand our overseas operations," Litton explained. I nodded. My coworkers and I had been working on what Christopher had dubbed 'The French Connection' project for some time. "Well, we need some people from the States to go over there and get things running. You are the ideal candidate, not only because of your strong work ethic and impressive résumé, but also because French is your first language."

"Sir, am I to understand that you're offering me a position in France?" I asked timidly.

"Yes."

I felt the blood drain from my face at Litton's one word answer. "Are you sure I'm qualified?" I was beginning to panic. I liked my job in Pittsburgh. I liked my life in Pittsburgh. The last thing I wanted to do was move overseas for who knows how long.

"We think you're more than qualified," Litton replied tersely.

I inhaled sharply and closed my eyes. "I don't mean to question your judgment, but I've only been working here for a few months."

"And in that few months you've really proved yourself," Christopher said in an encouraging tone.

"PPG will pay for your living arrangements in France. We have an apartment ready for you in Paris, only a few blocks away from the office. You will also receive a significant pay raise and a private car with a driver for your personal use," Litton said.

Nerves began to attack my stomach. The job offer sounded amazing. It would probably do wonders for my career, and I wouldn't have to pay for rent. But would it be worth leaving Pittsburgh and Sidney? "How long will I be in France?" I asked softly.

Christopher and Litton glanced at each other. "At least a year," Litton said. I could tell he was lying. This job was more long-term than they were letting on.

I swallowed and tried to clear my head. Before I gave any kind of answer, I needed to think long and hard about what this would mean. I needed to talk to Sidney. "This is an amazing offer, and I am flattered that you both think I'm qualified for the job, but it's a big move for me. I need some time to think. How long do I have before I need to make a decision?"

Christopher and Litton traded another glance. "We've…already found your replacement," Christopher replied quietly.

I opened my mouth, but no words would come out. My mouth was impossibly dry and my head was reeling. "So…if I don't take this job…" I stammered.

"Your services will no longer be needed at PPG," Litton replied firmly.

I nodded and stared at my hands. "Karine, I understand that this is a major transition for you, but we're going to ease you into it. You'll be working here next week, and then you will have two months off before you need to relocate to Paris," Christopher said in an almost warm tone.

Tears began to form in my eyes. Relocate to Paris. "Right," I replied thickly. "Thank you." I shakily stood up, shook both Christopher and Mr. Litton's hands, and left the office in a daze. I didn't notice the biting December wind as I slid into the driver's seat of my car and robotically drove to my apartment. I tried to make sense of what had just happened, but my brain couldn't process everything. All I kept hearing over and over was relocate to Paris.

I entered our apartment building and climbed the stairs, feeling in danger of passing out at any second. I hesitated before unlocking the door and tried to collect myself. I needed to be completely calm when I explained the situation to Sidney.

I took a deep breath and pushed the door open, only to find the apartment was empty. A note was resting on the kitchen counter, weighted down by a bouquet of white roses. I smiled at Sid's consideration and read the note. "Karine, I have some annoying media stuff to do at the arena, so I'll be home late. Stop by if you want. Love you, Sidney."

I breathed a sigh of relief and poured myself a glass of wine. I was glad Sid wasn't home. I still needed some time to think and clear my head.

I found a permanent marker and scribbled "pros" and "cons" on top of a napkin. I needed to think about this as logically as I could. Under "pros," I wrote: great for my career, living in Paris for free, pay raise. Under "cons," I wrote: no Sidney, moving to a foreign country alone (again), there for at least a year.

I closed my eyes and rested my head against the back of the couch. Being logical was getting me no where. "What's more important?" I said quietly to myself. "Sidney or my career?" My mind flashed back to the first time I met Sidney. I saw him standing in the doorway of my room at Uncle Mario's with that goofy smile on his face, and butterflies rose in my stomach. As unbelievably tacky as it sounded, I fell in love with Sid the first time I saw him. I had never felt so comfortable with anyone. He had completely changed my life in the three short months I had known him.

For the first time, the fact that we had only been together for less than three months hit me. Our relationship had moved very fast in that time. Too fast, maybe? He had basically moved in with me. I couldn't remember the last time he hadn't spent the night at my apartment—in fact, I had taken to referring to it as "our apartment" lately.

Things can change quickly, I thought pragmatically. My heart sank. As much as I hated to admit it, I couldn't see into the future. Although Sid and I had what Sylvie referred to as 'the perfect relationship', who knew what could happen three months in the future. On of my Grand-mère Lemieux's favorite sayings flashed in my mind: "The only thing you can be certain of is that nothing is ever certain."

I needed to keep my job. I didn't get into McGill, one of Canada's best schools, and slave through four years of business school to quit my first job after only working for three months. I had always been an independent person, and I was not the kind of girl who would pass up an amazing career opportunity for a guy. Even when he was the most amazing man I had ever met.

"Growing up fucking sucks," I groaned aloud. I glanced at the white roses Sid had left and felt a pang of regret. I knew I couldn't expect Sid to wait for me to return from France—I didn't even know how long I would be there. It would be selfish and wrong of me to try to cling to our relationship when we were on separate sides of the Atlantic Ocean.

I tried to will the tears away that were clouding my vision. I wondered when Sid would return home, and hoped it wasn't soon. Breaking up with Sidney was going to be the most painful thing I would ever have to do.

PART SEVENTEEN

I couldn't concentrate at all at work the next day. We had only stayed at Colby's for a few hours, and in that time Lauren played the role of devoted girlfriend perfectly.

"See?" Sid said once we had returned home. "Lauren and Colby are fine."
"Whatever, Sid," I had sighed. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"I'm going to bed," he had replied tersely, shutting the bedroom door behind him. I found a blanket and pillow and camped out on the couch. I understood that Sid wanted Colby to be happy, and from what he saw Lauren made his best friend the happiest man on the planet. But the fact that he didn't believe me when I told him what Lauren was doing at the bar really made me angry. I couldn't even look at Sid. I was his girlfriend. We were supposed to love and trust each other no matter what. He only hears what he wants to hear, I had thought.

I stared at my computer screen, not registering a single thing I was supposed to be reading. I looked around the office and picked up my cell phone to text Sylvie.

"Do you play hockey?" I typed. I had a lot of excess energy and emotion that I needed to get rid of, and hockey always managed to do that for me. Unfortunately, my usual partner was Sid, the last person I wanted to see at this moment.

"No, tennis. Why?"

I thought for a few minutes before typing my reply. I had played tennis recreationally in Post Secondary. I was pretty sure I had a racquet in my closet. Any physical outlet is better than none, I thought, so I typed: "Want to play around 5:30?"

"Sure," she replied quickly. "Come to my house. There are courts nearby."

At lunch time, I went back to my apartment and searched for my racquet. I could have stopped after work, but I knew Sid would probably be home then, and I didn't want to talk to him yet. I managed to find the racquet and a few balls buried in a box of old stuff from Post Secondary, so I hurried back to the office and attempted to concentrate until 5:00.

***

"Sidney is trying to see the best in Lauren, that's all," Sylvie said, serving the ball. "That's just his personality."

"I understand," I replied, hitting it back. "I'm upset that he assumed I was lying."

"Don't hold it against him. He just wants Colby to be happy."

"Colby would be better off without Lauren," I replied as the ball sailed past me. "Your point."

"Fifteen-love," Sylvie called out, serving the ball again. "Colby doesn't realize what Lauren is like when he's not around. But you have to admit, he's absolutely crazy about her. He's in love."

I sighed and ran to the far left side of the court to return the serve. "Do you think I should talk to her? Tell her to calm down a little?"

"If you want her to go crazy white girl on you, go for it," Sylvie replied.

I laughed. "I don't know what to do. Don't tell anyone, but Sid told me Colby is planning on proposing to Lauren on Christmas."

Sylvie gasped at this news and the ball bounced out of bounds. "No way."

"Fifteen-fifteen," I said. "And yeah. Now do you understand why I am so pissed off at her?"

"Well, maybe she'll calm down once they're engaged," Sylvie said hopefully.

"I just wish I could stop caring about all of this. Sid and I are still kind of fighting."

"My advice is for you to just drop it. It isn't worth you and Sidney fighting over. It's not your problem."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." I looked at my watch. It was 6:30. "I'd better get home. I want to get takeout from Sid's favorite Italian place."

"Sucking up much?" Sylvie teased as we walked off the courts.

"Hey, I can't cook anything but crêpes. Getting Sid something for dinner that isn't leftovers is my way of apologizing."

Sylvie laughed and gave me a hug. "Just forget about Lauren. You can't do anything about the way she is. The only thing you can do is be there for Colby if she breaks his heart."

I groaned. "Hopefully that never happens."

"Hopefully," Sylvie repeated.

***

"I got Angelo's!" I said loudly as I opened the door.

Sid was watching television and brightened as soon as he heard the name of his favorite restaurant. "Chicken alfredo?"

"Of course."

"I guess this means you're not mad at me anymore."

I smirked. "Sylvie thinks it's weird that I apologize with food."

"So that's where you were."

"Yeah, we played tennis."

Sid wrinkled his nose. "Tennis? Why?"

"Because apparently she doesn't play hockey."

"Weird," he replied, spooning some of Angelo's famous alfredo onto a plate.

"I know."

"I talked to Colby today," Sid said, handing me a plate that he had loaded with chicken alfredo and garlic bread.

"And?"

"And I mentioned that you and Sylvie are a little concerned about how much Lauren drinks."

I smiled at him and sat at the kitchen table. "You're tricky."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't say anything about how much Lauren drinks."

Sid shrugged. "I thought about it last night and today. I'm sorry I got so mad at you last night, but although Lauren may not be the best girlfriend, Colby loves her. But at the same time, she can't keep doing that to my best friend. So I just found the least offensive way to tell Colby that he needs to watch her."

"Even if she doesn't go out and try to get on guys anymore, that doesn't change the fact that she's only dating Colby because he's a hockey player."

"I think there's more to it than that. I think they're really in love," Sid replied, trying to keep his defensiveness at a minimum.

"Alright, if you say so. You've known them longer."

Sid reached under the table and found my hand. "I'm glad we're not fighting anymore," he said with a smile.

"I'm glad that all it takes is food to apologize," I replied.

"What can I say, I'm a simple man."