Page 23

23

Henri

The following morning, I wake up long before my alarm and immediately reach for my phone. I don’t have an active imagination by any estimation, but I can hardly believe that conversation with Atlas actually happened. And, based on my call history, happen, it did. Feeling a little better about our situation now that I know he won’t ignore me completely, I send him a text.

Henri

Good morning, Atlas. I hope you slept well.

Atlas

i slept on the floor which is to say i did not sleep at all

The reply came so fast, he must have been looking at his phone when I messaged him. Smiling, I prop myself up against the headboard and text back.

Henri

And what movie did we watch?

Atlas

the dark knight

ryan loves superhero comics

Henri

It was good?

Atlas

well christian bale is hot so

Chuckling, I hover my thumbs over the keyboard and try to think of something else to ask. What I really want to ask is if he will be my boyfriend on purpose, not as an accident. I want to ask if he will let me take care of him and treat him kindly—the way he deserves to be treated. Instead, I go with:

Henri

What are you doing today?

Atlas

unsure probably something with ethan though

dad has been making noise about going to a car show but i would rather drip battery acid in my eye than do that

might just come down with a cold and lie in bed all day

you?

Henri

I am working today, and then I will do a workout with my friend Carter. After that, I will make dinner with my friend Zeke. I am teaching German dishes.

Atlas

like the one you made me?

I smile down at my phone. Last Christmas is one of my favorite memories.

Henri

Yes! Zeke is a very good learner. Much better than me, who cannot remember the difference between tbsp and tsp.

Atlas

lmfao well to be fair those are pretty similar

I stare down at my phone in silence, unsure of what that acronym might mean. Across the hall, I can hear the soft noises of someone moving about. Probably Zeke, who usually wakes up earlier than Carter. Sliding out of bed, I pull pajama pants over my boxers and tug on a shirt, before leaving my room and heading downstairs to the kitchen. I’ve got eggs frying, and bread toasting when Zeke makes an appearance.

“Good morning, Vas,” he greets me cheerfully. I pick up the mug I pulled for him and pour him some coffee. My goal this summer is to make sure Carter and Zeke never have to do things themselves that I could have done for them.

“Good morning, Zeke,” I reply, which makes him laugh for some reason. Zeke is always smiling and laughing. He is, in many ways, the precise opposite of Atlas. Handing him the mug, I nudge him away from the oven .

“Take a seat. I shall handle breakfast,” I tell him. “Carter is sleeping in, yes?”

Zeke snorts. “Yeah. He told me he wants to take advantage of the off-season and catch up on sleep—he’s going into hibernation. But honestly, I’m so used to getting up at five, I don’t think I could reset my body clock even if I tried.”

“I am the same,” I agree. “Zeke, do you know what this ‘lmfao’ means?”

“It means: laughing my fucking ass off,” he tells me, taking a sip of coffee and eyeing me over the rim of the cup. “Did you end up reaching out to Atlas last night?”

“I did, yes.” The toast pops up, so I’m spared eye contact with him as I talk. Head down, I butter it carefully. “I called him and we are talking for a while. We are going to be friends.”

“Is that what you want?”

Carefully, I plate the eggs before pushing it across the island to him. He murmurs a thank-you, takes another sip of coffee, and gives me a politely questioning look. I wish I had a good answer for him.

“I…will be glad to see him still,” I answer diplomatically. “But no, it is not what I am wanting. I would prefer a…try again?”

“A do-over?”

“Yes, that.” I smile at him gratefully. “Atlas and I did everything all wrong, and I am wishing we could have a do-over. We are good together, he and I, and I think we could be better with a little more trying.”

“You’ve got the summer—maybe you could talk and get to know one another without anything else distracting you,” he suggests diplomatically.

I nod down at my plate, taking a small bite of toast and chewing through my thoughts. Carter once told me that Zeke is demi, but Zeke has never told me that. I’d like to talk to him about Atlas, because I think he, more than anyone else, will understand what I mean. But stronger than this desire is the worry that I’ll overstep and make him uncomfortable. Thinking that maybe the best way to broach the subject is to talk about myself, I set my fork down.

“I have always enjoyed dating, ever since I came here for school. I like to talk to people, and learn new things. But Atlas is the first person I looked at and…enjoyed looking at,” I finish, somewhat ridiculously. It’s not easy to find an appropriate way to explain that you wanted to have sex with someone for the first time in your adult life. “I am not wanting to scare him, but I am also not wanting to let him go. I worry there will never be another Atlas, yes?”

Rubbing a finger over my brow, I look down at my food and wish I had the appetite to eat. That was a terrible way to explain what I mean, but I can’t think of anything better. Zeke is going to think I am a crazy person.

“I think you and I are very similar, Vas,” Zeke says carefully, drawing my gaze back to his. “And I think your concerns are valid. There are a lot of people in the world who can go through heartbreak, turn around, and find another person they are just as attracted to. But there are also people that struggle with that—people like myself—and it’s perfectly reasonable to want to hold on to that feeling once you’ve found it. I don’t know what I would do if Carter left me. I honestly don’t. I’ll never love anyone the way I love him. I think I would end up dying alone.”

“Well, this is simply not going to happen,” I tell him, slightly alarmed at the words. Zeke smiles and takes a bite of egg .

“I don’t think so either, but the point remains that I’m probably more likely to be struck by lightning than find another person in the world that I’m attracted to, or that I love as much as Carter. And the same might be said of you.”

I heave a sigh of relief. “Yes, you are right. As always, you are right. Thank you for understanding.”

“Atlas might understand as well, if you give him a chance.”

“Perhaps, yes. Maybe it is as you said, and we shall take the summer to get to know one another the proper way.”

Zeke and I finish breakfast, chatting companionably as we eat. Carter has still not made an appearance when I have to go to work, so I leave Zeke with a request to bid him good morning from me, and walk out the door. After parking my car, there is a message waiting from Atlas.

Atlas

have a good day at work

Henri

May I call you later?

Atlas

you may

Smiling, I tuck my phone into the pocket of my khaki pants and walk inside, thinking about Atlas as I do.

The next couple of weeks pass in a haze of long days working my internship, evenings spent in the company of my friends, and nights on the phone with Atlas. In many ways, I am having the best summer of my life. Never before have I had so much to fill my time, or so many people asking for it.

Feeling absurdly grateful, I walk the halls of the rink with a smile on my face. Everyone I pass greets me by name and an answering smile. I really, truly love it here. Finished for the day, I stop by the practice rink to watch a little bit of their training. Carter is on the ice but not in goal. Troy Nichols is working on one-timing slap shots, fed by one of the coaching staff, and it would be dangerous to have their goalie in the net. Seeing me standing by the boards, Carter skates over.

“Heading home?” he asks.

“Yes. How is practice?”

“Good,” he grunts, head turned to watch Nichols. “Once they finish with this, I think they wanted to run through a few face-off drills working from the defensive zone. I’ll probably be awhile, still.”

“Max is coming over tonight, yes? Zeke mentioned?”

“Oh, yeah, he is. Luke is off doing what-the-fuck-ever.” Carter waves a hand and I bite back a grin. He loves to pick at Luke, and pretend not to like him. Carter is not such a good liar that he thinks he is.

“We shall have to invite him another day. Otherwise we will miss out on the pleasure of his company,” I say mildly. Carter eyes me, like he knows I’m giving him a hard time.

“Mm-hm,” he hums noncommittally, eyes flicking back to where Troy Nichols is still firing missiles into the back of his net. “You heard from housing yet?”

Surprised by the change of conversation, it takes me a second to think through the question and answer him. He leans against the boards with an elbow, eyes still on the ice but attention on me .

“No, but probably this week. I will call Jakob to help me with the forms.”

Carter raises a hand in acknowledgment as the defensive coach calls out to him, letting him know he’s actually done for the day and they’ll regroup tomorrow. Clearing his throat, he turns toward me fully. Knowing Carter as well as I do, I can tell by his expression that he’s about to embark on what he considers to be an uncomfortable conversation.

“I want you to stay with us, instead of moving back into the dorms.” I sigh, but Carter continues with a scowl before I can interrupt. “It’s your last year, Vas, you shouldn’t have to stay in the fucking dorms. Our house is more comfortable, and it’s close enough to campus for you to still walk to class if you want. You can cook your own food instead of eating the café shit.”

“But, Carter, what about Zeke’s grandmother? I thought she was to be moving in with you?”

He snorts violently. “Yeah, the two of you could give lessons on stubborn. She won’t budge for now, saying she doesn’t want to impose on us.”

“I do not wish to impose, either,” I point out gently. “You have been kind to let me stay over the summer, but?—"

“Zeke hates being alone when I’m gone. I hate leaving him alone when I’m gone. If you moved in permanently, you’d be doing us a favor and making yourself more comfortable in the process. I’d feel better, knowing you were there.”

I pause. Carter isn’t a liar—he wouldn’t tell me something about Zeke unless it was truthful. Playing for the NHL means Carter is gone a lot during the season, and it’s entirely plausible that Zeke finds the loneliness uncomfortable.

“You have already talked to Zeke about this?” I ask carefully .

“Yeah. He loves having you there and so do I. You’re already moved in, Vas, just stay .” I can tell by his expression that he’s fast losing his ability to maintain this conversation.

“I will pay you the housing fee that is usually paid to the school,” I tell him, holding up a hand to waylay the angry outburst I know will follow that statement. “It is fair, Carter, you cannot pretend it is not. You have given me room and board for a whole summer for free. That is enough. If I am to stay, I will pay.”

“You can pay the same thing Zeke did when he first moved in,” Carter offers, and I jump on it immediately.

“Okay,” I agree, though my confidence wavers when he smirks at me. I thought I’d just won that argument, but now I’m unsure. Carter looks far too happy for someone who just agreed to something he loves fighting me on.

“Great. It’s settled, then. Apparently I’m done for the day, so let’s get out of here. I’m fucking starving.”

Max’s car is already in the driveway when I get home, and a quick glance inside the vehicle confirms he is already in the house. After going through my usual motions of putting my shoes and coat away, I find Zeke where I usually do: the kitchen. Max is sitting on one of the island stools, looking serious as he carefully places pepperoni slices on a pizza.

“Hello, my friends,” I greet them.

“Vas!” Zeke replies exuberantly, walking over to give me a side hug.

“Hey, Vas,” Max greets me, sharing a quick smile before he goes back to putting pepperoni equidistance apart on the pizza. “I came a little early, so we made pizza.”

“That looks delicious,” I tell them truthfully, walking over to the sink and washing my hands. “How may I assist?”

When Carter gets home, the kitchen is ringing with laughter and music; there are two homemade pizzas in the oven and one being cleaned up off the floor. I look up from where I am kneeling on the hardwood, searching for stray cheese.

“I thought you were right behind me,” I comment, earning a grunt in reply.

“Got caught up talking to some of the guys. What happened there?”

“Slipped off the pizza spatula thing,” Max explains, lifting up the item in question to show Carter. “Don’t worry, we’ve got another started.”

He gestures to the dough spread out on the island. Carter leans over to steal a few toppings and pop them into his mouth, before walking over to rest against the island next to Zeke. I go back to cleaning up the floor and the cabinetry, while Max finishes putting the toppings on the next pizza. He talks aimlessly as he does, him and Carter falling into their usual NHL chatter. Once I’m satisfied that the pizza mess is sufficiently cleaned up, I leave to dispose of the towels into the laundry and take a detour to my room to change. After pulling on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, I have a sudden inspiration.

Taking a quick photograph of myself in the bathroom mirror, I text it to Atlas.

Atlas

oh my god am i witnessing the death of the khaki right now

Henri

I wore the khaki pants to work.

Atlas

for shame

no polo shirt though i am so proud

Henri

I was provided two uniform shirts to wear during my internship, and I get to keep them. Two new polo shirts for my collection.

Atlas

dear god they had no idea the monster they were feeding

Smiling, I tuck my phone into my pocket and head back downstairs. Everyone has moved to the living room as we wait for the food to be ready. When Max sees me walk into the room, he straightens and clears his throat.

“So, I’ve got news,” he says. Walking over to the couch, I take a seat next to where Carter and Zeke are sitting so close together, they appear to be conjoined. “When I was in Detroit a few weeks ago for rookie training camp, Luke came with me.”

I nod, because I’d already known this. Max left the day after graduation to join his NHL team for a few weeks of training. Next week, he’ll be flying back to stay for good, as the pre-season training begins in earnest. Carter, too, will be a busier man once more, the summer flying by and scattering my friends. My heart hurts, as it always does, when I think about how little I will see their faces soon. I smile at Max, not wanting him to know the reminder made me sad.

“Yes, Luke sent me a few photographs,” I tell him.

“So, yeah, he’s actually going to come with me when I move. We found an apartment. Together,” Max clarifies when nobody seems shocked by this pronouncement. Carter is the first to rally .

“I’ll pray for you,” he says, and then grunts from what I suspect was an elbow in the ribs from Zeke.

“That’s great,” Zeke tells Max. “Did Luke find a job?”

“Well, so that’s where he’s at right now, actually.” Max sits forward, voice rising excitedly. “He’s interviewing for a job with the Tigers! He’s been applying everywhere, and had a couple virtual interviews, but this is the first one that led to a second interview. He flew out yesterday to meet with them!”

I have no idea who the Tigers are, but I can recognize the enthusiasm in Max’s voice as a good thing. I beam at him.

“This is fantastic news. I do not see how they cannot offer him a job. Luke is very talented.”

Max smiles back. “I’ve been worried about it, to be honest. Luke can’t just sit at home and relax, he has to do things. I was…well, I was worried he wouldn’t want to come with me if he didn’t get a job, I guess.”

Carter snorts, drawing everyone’s attention. “I don’t think there was any stopping him from going with you,” he says, which I happen to agree with. “He would have folded himself up into your suitcase.”

“I am very happy to hear this. I would not have wanted you to go alone,” I tell Max, and when his eyes meet mine, I can see the unspoken words between us. He hasn’t told Carter and Zeke what he shared with me last year, about what happened to him, nor has he brought it up again with me. He smiles a small, soft smile like he knows where my head is at.

“Zeke and I have news, too,” Carter says suddenly, and his mouth twists into a decidedly wolfish grin. “Vas is moving in with us. Permanently.”

“For the school year,” I correct, as Zeke’s head whips toward me on a gasp, and a wide smile blooms on his face .

“Really? You agreed?”

“Yes, but I will be paying?—”

“—half of the utilities,” Carter fills in happily. I frown at him.

“Well, yes, but I had agreed to pay the same rent that you asked from Zeke,” I remind him.

“Right. Which was half of the utilities and nothing more,” Carter replies smugly. I gape at him. Zeke sends me a mildly commiserating look.

“I told you he won’t take your money,” he mumbles. Max, for his part, looks like he’s fighting a silent battle against a smile and losing.

“You tricked me,” I say to Carter, impressed with him, while also feeling annoyed at myself.

“Sure did,” he replies without a trace of apology.

Zeke’s pizza, just like everything else he makes, is delicious, and earns him no less than three appreciative I love yous from Carter. It doesn’t matter how fervently I wish for time to slow, however. Eventually the food is consumed, the kitchen is cleaned, and the day ends. I give Max a ridiculously long hug, trying to convey how much I care for him and how hard it will be when he is gone.

“Ich liebe dich,” I tell him quietly. He makes a low sound and squeezes me a little tighter. Max doesn’t speak German, but he doesn’t need to, to understand the sentiment.

“I’ll still be around,” he whispers into my shoulder, like my sudden melancholy is apparent to him. “I’ll text you.”

“Yes, we will still talk,” I agree, even though I know it won’t be the same. Just like when Carter left school. The loss of him at practice every day was like suddenly finding myself without my left hand. I would look for him in the net and feel a jolt of disappointment when I saw Micky there in his place. It will be the same with Max, I know. Perhaps worse, since I have played right wing to Max’s center for the past three seasons. How on earth am I supposed to play without him?

“We will fly out to watch when you play Carter’s team,” Zeke pipes up, and I share a grateful smile with him.

With Max gone home to call Luke and hear about his interview, Carter and Zeke retreat to their bedroom where I can hear the soft murmur of voices and the occasional burst of quiet laughter. After showering, I stretch out on my bed and call Atlas.

“Henri,” he answers, and I immediately feel less sad than I did before.

“Hello, B?rchen, how are you this evening?”

“You will never guess what happened,” he says, and then launches into a ridiculous story about a backyard baseball game gone wrong. A slow smile creeps across my lips as I listen to him talk about his brothers and a broken window.

“So, I am guessing your dad is likely unhappy about this?” I ask, and am rewarded with a throaty laugh from Atlas.

“Pissed! To be fair, it was kind of nuts to be playing baseball in the backyard. Especially with Ethan, who’s wild to the point of danger. But it was fun, and my stepmom wasn’t even mad about it. It was so funny, Henri, we were standing there just…staring at the window and trying to decide if we should make a run for it, and she came out the back door with the ball in her hand.”

“Uh-oh,” I muse, smiling.

“Right? But she just tosses it to Ryan, points away from the house, and says: aim that way, please . Fucking hilarious . Of course, Dad blew his top when he got home. He’s convalescing in his sitting room now, probably drinking a bourbon and ruminating on how much better his life would be without kids.”

“I am thinking your dad is a little unreasonable.” Atlas snorts violently. “To be honest, though, I am unsure how my own parents might react to a broken window. I was a very well-behaved child.”

“You? I simply cannot believe that.”

“I know,” I agree seriously. “I am full of surprises.”

Atlas laughs again, and I miss him so badly it hurts. I miss the way his dark hair shines like it’s oiled, and the way his mouth only seems to soften for me. I miss kissing him, and touching him, and the way it felt to let him do it to me. I sigh, because those things are gone.

“What’s wrong?” Atlas asks.

“It is nothing. I am being silly. Tell me more about your day.”

He huffs. “Henri, come on. Tell me. You don’t sound like yourself.”

“Oh, it is only that I had to say goodbye to my friend today. Max is very talented, as you know. He is to play hockey for the NHL, and will be going to Detroit soon. I am happy for him, but I am also sad for myself because I will miss him very badly. It is selfish.”

He’s silent, and I imagine I can feel the quiet judgement. I should only feel proud of Max; glad of his good fortune and talent. I should not think of myself at all, because it has nothing to do with me. Opening my mouth to say this to Atlas, he cuts me off with a firm, “Don’t be an idiot.”

I laugh. Atlas is so much like Carter, it is sometimes worrisome. I imagine they’d get along well, if they ever met. They could sit in a quiet room and glare at one another.

“You are literally the least selfish person I know,” he continues hotly. “You’re allowed to miss your friend. Jesus, and people think I’m hard on myself. And just because he’s going off to be a hockey star, or whatever, that doesn’t mean he won’t miss you just as bad. You guys practically live in each other’s pockets during the season. You can’t tell me he won’t be sad when he looks over at his new teammates and realizes you’re not one of them.”

“Well, now I feel worse.” I sigh, and Atlas laughs again. How lucky for me to have heard it so many times tonight. “I worry for him, too. I would feel better if Carter or I were with him.”

“Isn’t he with that Luke guy?”

“Yes. He will be going along.”

“So, everything is fine,” Atlas says firmly. “You can’t always worry about everyone else. You’ll drive yourself mad.”

“You are right. My mother tells me I am a caretaker. She tells me it is born from my desire to make other people happy. She tells me I must try not to be these things all the time.”

“Your mom the doctor, right?”

“Correct.”

“She sounds kind of cool,” he says quietly, and I wonder if he’s thinking of his own mother. My poor Atlas. If only that were a hurt I could soothe.

“Yes, she is cool. People are always surprised, yes? Jakob and I did not follow in their footsteps. We are both choosing to do something different. Most people think we will be doctors, too.”

“You would be a terrible doctor,” Atlas says honestly.

“Yes,” I agree, smiling helplessly at the ceiling.

“You’re way too empathetic. You’ll be great at sports media, though. You’re the perfect guy to be impartial. Not to mention, you practically live and breathe hockey. And you’re killing it at your internship.”

I open my mouth to demure, but the fact is, he’s right. I am doing very well at my job, and have been told many times over. I decide to take the compliment instead of arguing it away.

“Thank you. I have other news, as well.”

“Oh?” The word comes out on a yawn, and there is the faint rustle of cloth in the background, as though he’s cozied up in bed. My poor heart is never going to survive this night of longing.

“I am not returning to the dorms for my final semesters. I will be here, at Carter and Zeke’s house. Carter tricked me into it, so I shall remain living here under quiet protest.”

Atlas snorts. “Better than the dorms, though. You’ll be able to make all the fancy German bread you want.”

“True.”

“And sleep in a bed that’s bigger than a prison inmate’s,” Atlas continues.

“True,” I whisper, thinking of all the enjoyable nights he and I spent in my small, dorm-sized bed; the mornings we woke up pressed together simply because there was nowhere else to go. Atlas yawns again, and I take pity on him, loath though I am to hang up the phone. “You are tired, B?rchen. Let us get some rest and we shall speak tomorrow, yes?”

“Okay,” he replies sleepily. “Text me in the morning?”

“Always,” I promise, remaining on the line with the phone pressed to my ear so that I can listen as he falls asleep.