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Coach sat me down in his office, a firm look on his face as he slowly nodded. It was a long moment of silence, and by now the entire campus knew about me and Wren, which I really hadn’t wanted to spring on him, but when people are cornered, we fight to get free.

“I don’t know what to say,” he started with. “Somehow, it makes sense, you were young, and you’ve never dated, you’ve always been first in, last out. It’s why you’re the captain. Your team respects and trusts you. I was disappointed in you, Luke, when I saw it. But now, it makes sense. And I hope we don’t get any negative publicity about it, otherwise it could fall within the guidelines for disciplinary action.”

I understood the extremities of it. “Coach, you have no idea how much this team means to me. It’s my family. I don’t know who got those screenshots, but I’ve deactivated that account now.”

“Good. It’s a start. And Wren, I’m supposed to believe the two of you hit it off,” he grumbled, clearly suspicious, which he had every right to be. “You better be kind to him; he’s a sweet kid.”

“Don’t worry, I’m going to make sure he’s ok” Although I had let him leave alone. I should’ve brought him with me, but he had insisted on leaving. My teeth clenched, grinding a little to think about how he must’ve been so anxious all the way back to his place. I was already failing at this fake boyfriend stuff.

Coach rapped his knuckles on the desk twice. “Ok, and I’m gonna email the webmaster or whatever to get that post removed,” he said. “I wanna see you in here early with the team. So, don’t go wild for Jack’s birthday this evening.”

“Got it, Coach.”

Grabbing my bag from the floor, I swung it around my shoulder and as I left the office, I noticed Owen, peering out from the locker room. He vanished inside, as if I hadn’t already seen him.

“Hey,” I called out.

Owen was laced up in some old boots, unable to get too far. “Oh, hey, Luke,” he said, kicking the blade against the protective flooring. “I thought that was you in Coach’s office. He give you hell?”

In the blades, Owen was taller than me but only by an inch. He was one of the juniors, taking up the defense for the team. I couldn’t place the emotion on his face, but it looked like I’d caught him in the act. “No, we squared it all away,” I told him. “You good?”

“Me? I’m great. I was gonna head out on the ice while it’s empty. Gonna do some timed sprints.”

“I’m good, I’ve gotta see someone,” I said. “You’re sure you’re good.”

“Yeah, man. You think you’re gonna be suspended or something for a bit?” he asked.

He had to have been the one who took those screenshots and posted them. He’d wanted to be captain; he threw his name out a lot last season. It didn’t make sense why he would try and do it this way, considering once I graduated, he was a shoo-in for it, everyone like Owen, but now, I didn’t know if I could trust him. I didn’t know who I could trust right now.

Owen smirked, only biting into my thoughts about him being the one who knew what I’d said, and someone who would’ve searched my profile from all that far back.“Well, good luck,” he said, patting me on the shoulder and leaving to go to the rink.

I didn’t say a word; I had to keep my thoughts to myself right now. Anything I said could’ve fractured the team, and that wasn’t the right space we needed to be in before the season began. We had to be a strong team, and when the time was right, the answer would come to me. I would know who had tried to destroy my reputation.

* * *

Laid in bed, I stared at the ceiling. I’d texted Wren a couple of times already, and not even one of them had been responded to. I didn’t even know where he lived so I could physically check in on him. I feared I’d acted too haste with the entire plan. And now, it was the early evening, and he was expected to show up in an hour.

— I haven’t been ignoring you. Wren messaged me finally.

— I needed a nap, and then my head hurt, so I was not looking at my phone.

—I’m ok.

Cool relief swept across my brow. My head relaxed into my pillow as I stared at the ceiling and placed my phone on my chest. Until another vibration came through.

— I still want to come over for the party, because we should talk in person. He added.

That lined up to what I was going to ask, but I felt slightly self-centered for even wanting to bring it up.

— Good. I’m glad you’re ok. If you want to come over a little earlier, we can talk. I just want to let you know, I’m already regretting pushing this on you. I just figured you’d be open to it.

My nerves hadn’t been like this since my first day on the team when I was surrounded by the Orcas who I never thought I’d fit in with.

— I’m happy to help, but we’ll talk later.

I didn’t know if it was reassuring or not, but the photo was out there, people now thought of me as gay, which—again, didn’t feel like the right label for me. I couldn’t put my finger on it, maybe because I’d never really tried to.

Birthday were a big deal for the team, it was another team building moment, we could all bring a guest into the house assuming it wasn’t a closed event, but birthdays were to be celebrated and operated on a more the merrier policy.

Wren arrived at the house in a nice, checkered blue and white shirt, representing the team colors, and a small box in his hand, as well as a tote bag on his shoulder. We were locked in a staring contest the moment I opened the door to him, not knowing how to approach the moment, did we greet with a handshake, a hug, or should I wave him on through?

“I brought something for Jack,” he said, waving the box around. “I made it. It’s nothing, but I didn’t want to come empty handed.”

“It’s not nothing,” I said. “He’s not in yet, so should we go talk?”

He nodded, slipping the box into his tote bag. “I’ve had time to think about it now, and—”

“Somewhere private,” I said, gesturing up the flight of stairs from the entryway. “My room is probably the most private place.”

“Sure.” He sucked in a shaky breath. “I’m always in awe of this place. There are so many rooms. Like, so many. How do you even allocate them?”

“Seniority,” I told him as we walked up to my room. He was more verbal and open now to asking questions, and he didn’t seem to slow down with them either. “Captain picks first, then all other seniors, juniors, then sophomores. But none of the rooms are awful.”

He nodded. “I’ve only seen yours.”

On the tour, I had only shown him my room, briefly. Some doors were open as we passed, so he might’ve seen into those as well. “I really hope I haven’t done too much damage,” I let out, a string of words all jumbled fell from my mouth. “You know, with people probably asking you about me.”

Wren shrugged. “I don’t really have social media, so I wouldn’t even know.”

My room was pristinely clean. I knew I’d be bringing Wren up to talk, and I didn’t want him to see how messy I could be. I was trying to impress him, even if there was a pair of underwear on by the foot of the bed, right in front of the mirror where I’d changed. I kicked them under the bed and caught him smile. “You want to sit?” I grabbed the back of my desk chair on wheels. “It’s a comfortable one. Good for the back and posture.”

He sat in my chair and immediately gasped. “Oh my god, is this where all the funding goes?”

“Some of it, I suppose.” I sat on the edge of the bed and spun him around to face me. “We’ve probably got about thirty minutes until everyone is ready to surprise Jack, not like he’ll be surprised, we’ve got Jordan and Noah out keeping him occupied.”

“I realize I have the power,” he said. “And I don’t really like that. I’m not someone who likes that, I’m better at being told what to do, but obviously, there are boundaries and things, and consent, but—blugh, I’m getting off track.”

Placing my hand on his knee, I tried my best to calm him. I’d already gotten a picture of the way his anxiety had him wrapped. “I don’t want this to be a situation where I’m using you,” I told him. “I’m not even asking you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, just hold hands if we’re together in public until we can break this off and not because of anything bad, we’ll figure it out.”

He nodded. “I’m helping you with this, so maybe you can help me,” he said, his eyes at his fingers fidgeting in his lap. “The ice hockey fantasy league I’m in, I did bad last year, and I really want to do better this year. And maybe you could help me, because obviously, I can’t just pick an entire Orcas roster. So, any insight you have into the teams in the draft. And that will be the reciprocation.”

There were a lot of fantasy leagues, some of them had the Orcas in with some top D1 colleges, and others we were much better in. “I’ll throw in some skating lessons too,” he said. “You know, because I can’t be dating—fake dating someone who stops themselves by bashing into the barrier.”

Wren giggled and let out an adorable snort that tickled something in me, right where tickles shouldn’t be. This was a dangerous game I was playing now, and we were going to get hurt. “Ok,” he agreed. “So, you get me, a gay person to make you look good, and I get you, a team captain who will make me look good to my fantasy league.” He pushed out his pinky. “It’s a deal.”

“A pinky shake?”

“Yep. It’s more binding than a handshake.”

I wrapped my finger around his, locked in that embrace, I was inclined from a twitch of my lips to lean in for a kiss. So, I did. We kissed again, and this time, there wasn’t anyone around to see it happen.

Time must’ve stopped because it seemed like hours had passed where fireworks and pop rocks had bubbled over in my body. “Does that make it an even stronger bond then?” I asked. Wren’s eyes were still closed with his lips pursed.

“Mmh.” He nodded, slowly reopening his eyes. “You have the softest lips.”

“Yours too.”

“No, no, I put ChapStick on because if we did kiss again, I didn’t want you to feel the bits of my skin that I bite,” he said in a giant jumble stew of words all at once. “I only had this old strawberry one that was part of this moisturizer set, so yeah.”

“Relax.” Both hands on his shoulders, I sucked in a couple of breaths with him. “It was good. And I am not against practicing with you, you know, just in case we need to kiss and make out in front of people.”

“Make out?”

I didn’t know if this was the overstep. “It was just a thought.”

A thought he leapt on. We both leaned in and kissed again. Mouths opening, his lips did taste of strawberry, and his tongue of peppermint mouthwash. It barely moved as my tongue occupied most of his mouth, he really was the submissive he’d blurted about being earlier.

Pulling away and out of breath, I must’ve had the biggest smile aching on my face. “That was nice,” he said.

“Your lips tasted great,” I told him.

Wren’s hand grabbed at his other forearm. “I need to make sure this isn’t a dream. Because it’s really beginning to feel a lot like a dream. Did we just—”

I took his hand away. “It’s not a dream.”

“Yeah, but you’re—still straight.”

“I never said that.”

In fact, I don’t think I’d ever announced my sexuality, maybe because it had never been up for debate before. Never questioned, never even a thought. But I currently liked a boy, and while it was a weird situation, I think he liked me back.