"JOHNNY! YES YOU ARE COMING! And you're going to like it god damnit!" Carey exclaimed, barging past Jonathan Quick and rushing into his bedroom.
"Why would I want to fly to Washington to stay with you and a bunch of grown men?" He shook his head, his eyes pleading for Carey to leave.
After Carey had talked to John, he had immediately called Quick, asking if he'd help. After being shot down, Carey had booked his flight to LA, telling himself he would get Jonathan to Washington, one way or another.
"Because it'll be fun! The house is like a fucking mansion! You don't even need to be around them all the time! C'mon, Jo." Carey was getting desperate now, his eyes pleading as he paused from rummaging through Quick's closet. "I don't wanna be the only goalie," he added.
Jonathan sighed, fighting to not give in, he looked away from a pleading Price. "Ask Crow or someone, get your backup goalie to go with you."
Carey's face fell, not into a sad expression, but an angry one. "Damnit Jonathan! We need you, and you know that. If we don't go, I don't get to beat your American ass. So you're not just gonna stand there and watch me back your bags for you. You're gonna back your own damn bags, and we're gonna get our asses to the airport before we miss our flight. And on the way to the airport, you're gonna call Crawford, and I'm gonna call Karlsson. Now lets get going!"
Jonathan stood in front of Carey, his arms crossed over his chest, well Carey's hands were placed on his hips. With a clenched jaw, Jonathan narrowed his eyes. "Nope, I don't wanna embarrass you in Korea."
"Oh, so you're scared, huh? You're scared I'm gonna beat you," Carey challenged, narrowing his eyes into slits.
"Am not," Quick replied, taking a step forward.
"Then lets go Washington."
Jonathan didn't give in, "you can't make me."
__
"Sorry, what did you say ten minutes ago?" Carey asked as he buckled up his seatbelt in the back of the Uber.
Jonathan turned around from the front seat, "oh whatever, I went easy on you."
"No, I think you just suck at rock, paper, scissors."
Jonathan scoffed, "yeah well when you chased me around the house, you couldn't catch me."
Carey scoffed this time, pulling out his phone to text Dylan that they were on their way to the airport. Once he hit send, he returned his attention to Jonathan. "Whatever, we're here now. Call Crawford, I'll call Karlsson."
Jonathan pulled out his phone and dialled Corey's number. Though he kept it to his ear, Carey could hear the conversation that was going on between the two.
"No, I don't care Crow. Yes, you're coming and you're gonna like it god damnit," Jonathan turned around to look Carey, nodding with a smirk on his face and his eyebrow raised.
"I don't know, Jo," Corey retaliated, earning Jonathan to scoff.
"Yeah, well I do. We need you and we know you want to come. So you're gonna come to Washington and you're gonna drag Kane and Toews there too, before we have to come get you all, ourselves. And don't say you weren't warned; it would not be pretty." Quick said, completely serious, earning the Uber driver to look oddly and amazed at the two men in the car.
"Stop laughing, I'm not joking," Jonathan snapped, the laughter from the other end, dying down. "Okay, yeah I'll text you the details. Alright, well nice chatting with ya Crow, we'll see the three of you soon!" Jonathan spoke happily, ending the call with the Chicago goaltender.
"They're gonna come!" Quick turned around, grinning widely. "You sure you don't want me to call Erik?" He asked, gesturing to the phone securely in Carey's hand.
"Yeah, I'm sure." Carey said as he clicked Erik's contact. Placing the phone to his ear, he waited for the Swede to answer, but he never did.
"What the hell?" Jonathan asked, clearly confused as to why Carey ended the call when it went to voicemail. "He didn't answer?"
Carey shook his head, making a mental note to call back later. "I guess he's just busy-"
"Or he saw your name and he just didn't want to answer."
[authors note]
im tryin to power write
and get a bunch of chapters
prewritten, and so far, so good