Caufield's girl

Chapter Eleven

At this point, I'm so confused and thrown off that I don't even have a perception of reality until someone's voice interrupts me. "Sophia? Was that Cole Caufield dropping you off?!" Maddie asks in pure shock. "Oh, my God. What am I missing here?" She waits for my answer in great anticipation. "Jesus Christ, Maddie. Shut up! Not everyone on this campus has to know, and plus, it's not what it looks like." I say it in an attempt to shush her. "You have to tell me everything." She states this with excitement. "Alright. But not here." I say this as we're already walking into the dorm.

                                                                                                 ***

Yesterday I didn't really have any other choice but to report everything to Maddie, and everyone knows that her annoying exaggerations get on my nerves. But unfortunately, I can't do anything about it. Today, she insisted on the fact that she'd be my fashion stylist for the evening. "Maddie, I'm not trying to impress anyone. I'm just there to support the team. Nothing less, nothing more. It's that simple, and I don't give a shit what I'll wear." I am incredibly irritated. "Babe, you're going to the VIP section, where all the hockey wives and girlfriends are; it's fancy as hell, so you sure have to blend in." She tries to persuade me. "You're not going to let it go, are you?" I roll my eyes at her. "Not a chance." She shakes her head and gives me a wide smile.

After an hour of torture and arguing, I'm finally ready for my NHL debut in the VIP section. There's plenty of time till the start of the match, so I was planning to get my metro ticket and have a bite of some Mexican leftovers from lunch, but my beeping phone interrupted me. A message appears, and I decide to open it immediately. It says, "Be down in five." It doesn't take me long until I realize who it is. But what the hell?! This wasn't the plan. I stand there confused as I type in "What?!" and press send.

I gather my things as I say good-bye to Maddie, but she stops me. "Hey, why this soon? Weren't you supposed to go by subway?" she inquires. "Yeah, change of plans, I guess; I'll explain later. Love ya, bye." I say this before I rush out of the door, and Maddie doesn't have a chance to say anything else. I trail down the stairs, and I'm already out of the dormitory just when I spot him waiting, leaning against his black Mercedes. He's wearing a black suit with a tie and a white shirt. I must admit, he doesn't look bad at all. "What?! We didn't agree on this. What are you doing here?! I would've gone by subway." I said it in confusion. "Did you really think I would let my biggest fan go by metro?" he says as he opens the passenger door for me. "Thanks, but you didn't have to." I say it humbly as I get in the car.

"So, what do you listen to?" he asks out of the blue before he starts the engine. "Taylor Swift." I reply proudly. "Oh, that makes sense. No wonder you're this stubborn and determined. But no, really, she's great, I have to admit." He grins at me. "And I love one song in particular." He adds. "Oh really? I highly doubt that." I scoff in disagreement, but when 22 by Taylor Swift starts playing, I only manage to shake my head. "You egoist, you really can't get over yourself, can you?" I say this the moment I connect the dots and realize that 22 is the number of this jersey. Good lord, help me.

"What, can you blame me?" He laughs as he turns the steering wheel casually. "By the way, you look good." He adds as he eyes me down for a second while we're stuck at the junction. "Thanks; you don't look bad yourself." I try to compliment him back. "Actually, I forgot about something." He says this as he quickly grabs a black box from the backseat, just before the traffic lights turn green. "Here, open it." He hands me the package. "What is this?" I ask in confusion. "Go on, just open it. Don't worry, there aren't any body parts of my former victims, if you're wondering." He says it sarcastically as I open the box. "Seriously?!" I laugh when I pull out the Canadiens jersey with his number on it. "Wow, how original," I add. "Shall I sign it for you?" he teases me. "Nah, I'm good. Thanks tho." I relpy.