Page 44 of Speak in Fever

P ercy stares at his phone for a full ten minutes before finally dialing his mother's number. It's Sunday evening, and he's sitting in his kitchen with leftover Thai food and the kind of restless energy that comes from spending too much time in his own head.

"Percy!" His mother's voice is warm and immediate, the way it always is when he calls. "How are you, sweetheart? How's the season going?"

"Good," Percy says automatically, then pauses because that's not entirely true.

The season is going well—they're winning games, his stats are solid, the team chemistry is better than it's been in years.

But everything else feels complicated in ways he doesn't know how to navigate. "Actually, it's... complicated."

"Complicated how?" There's that maternal radar, instantly zeroing in on his hesitation.

Percy gets up from the kitchen table and starts pacing, phone pressed to his ear. "Hockey's good. Really good, actually. We've got this new dynamic that's working really well, and I think we might have a real shot at making a playoff run this year."

"That's wonderful, honey. But that doesn't sound complicated."

"It's not the hockey part that's complicated." Percy runs his free hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to explain without revealing too much. "It's... other stuff. Personal stuff."

His mother is quiet for a moment, and Percy can practically hear her processing this information. "Are you seeing someone?"

The direct question catches him off guard, even though he should have expected it. His mother has always been good at reading between the lines.

"It's complicated," he repeats, which is probably answer enough.

"Oh, Percy." Her voice softens with understanding. "Tell me about her."

The automatic assumption that it's a woman makes Percy's chest tighten, but he pushes past it.

"They're... incredible. Smart, funny, talented.

They challenge me in ways I didn't expect, make me want to be better at everything, not just hockey.

When I'm with them, everything feels easier and more complicated at the same time. "

"That sounds like the real thing," his mother says gently. "So what's making it complicated?"

Percy stops pacing and leans against the counter, staring out the window at Portland's evening skyline. "I don't know how to do this, Mom. I don't know how to be in a relationship. My track record isn't exactly stellar."

"Percy, you're twenty-eight years old. You've learned how to be a professional athlete, a team leader, how to handle media and pressure and all kinds of responsibilities. Why do you think being in a relationship is beyond your capabilities?"

"Because it's different," Percy says, frustration creeping into his voice. "Hockey has rules, strategies, clear objectives. Relationships are... messy. Emotional. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with all these feelings."

His mother's laugh is gentle and knowing. "Sweetheart, relationships aren't that different from hockey, in some ways. They require communication, trust, teamwork. You know how to do all those things."

"But what if I mess it up? What if I hurt them? What if they realize I'm not good at this and decide they deserve better?"

"Oh, honey." His mother's voice carries the particular warmth she reserves for moments when he's being hard on himself.

"First of all, everyone messes up relationships sometimes.

That's how you learn. Second, if this person cares about you the way you clearly care about them, they're going to be patient while you figure it out together. "

Percy closes his eyes, thinking about Rath's easy laughter, the way he challenges Percy's overthinking with gentle teasing, how he seems to understand Percy's need for control while also knowing exactly when to push back against it.

"They are patient," Percy admits quietly. "More patient than I probably deserve."

"Then stop borrowing trouble," his mother says firmly. "If you care about this person, if they make you happy, then focus on that. Stop worrying about all the ways it might go wrong and start appreciating all the ways it's going right."

"It's not that simple—"

"It is that simple, Percy. Not easy, but simple.

" He can hear the smile in her voice. "Love isn't about being perfect.

It's about being honest, being present, being willing to grow together.

You're good at commitment, sweetheart. You've been committed to hockey for your entire adult life.

This is just committing to something else that matters to you. "

Percy feels something tight in his chest start to loosen. "What if they want things I don't know how to give them?"

"Then you ask them to teach you, or you figure it out together. That's what partnerships are for." His mother pauses. "Percy, are you happy with this person?"

The question is simple, but the answer comes immediately and without hesitation. "Yes. Happier than I've ever been."

"Then that's your answer right there. Don't sabotage your own happiness because you're afraid of doing it wrong. Just... be present. Pay attention. Ask questions when you're confused. And remember that if this person chose to be with you, they must see something worth choosing."

After they hang up, Percy sits in his kitchen for a long time, turning his mother's words over in his head. Maybe she's right. Maybe he's been overthinking this, looking for problems that don't exist instead of appreciating what he has.

His phone buzzes with a text from Rath: Made dinner. Want to come over? Fair warning: it's probably terrible.

Percy finds himself smiling as he types back: On my way. Can't be worse than my leftover Thai food.

Challenge accepted, comes the immediate response, followed by a string of fire emojis that makes Percy laugh out loud.

Maybe his mother is right. Maybe it really is that simple.

Miles away, Rath is having his own complicated phone conversation.

"You sound different," Emma announces without preamble, five minutes into their weekly catch-up call.

"Different how?" Rath asks, settling deeper into his couch with the cup of tea that's become part of his Sunday night routine.

"I don't know. Lighter? Less wound up than usual. Are you actually getting enough sleep, or have you discovered some miracle cure for your chronic overthinker syndrome?"

Rath snorts. "I don't overthink."

"Oh, you definitely do. You’d spend twenty minutes picking out coffee beans if I let you."

"That was one time," Rath protests, though he's fighting a smile.

"Uh-huh. So what's different? New meditation practice? Better drugs? Did you finally take my advice about therapy?"

"I'm not on drugs, Emma."

"Then what? Because something's changed, and given that you've been playing the best hockey of your career, I'm assuming it's something good."

Rath considers how much to reveal. Emma is his closest family member, the person he's always been most honest with, but this situation with Percy feels too new, too fragile to put into words yet.

"Maybe I'm just settling into the team better," he says carefully. "Feeling more confident in my role."

“Oh my god.” Emma sounds gobsmacked. “Rath, are you seeing someone ?”

Rath swallows thickly. "It's not... we're just seeing how things go. It's not serious."

"Oh my god, you have a boyfriend!" Emma's delight is audible through the phone. "Tell me everything. What's his name? How did you meet? Is he cute?"

"Emma, slow down." Rath laughs despite himself. "It's really not a big deal. We're just... figuring things out."

"'Figuring things out' is what people say when they’re afraid of commitment." Emma's voice carries the smugness of someone who's figured out a puzzle. "So who is it? Someone from the team?"

Rath's silence is apparently answer enough.

"Oh, this is even better than I thought. A hockey romance! Is he cute? Of course he's cute, you have excellent taste. Is he nice to you? Because if he's not nice to you, I will drive to Portland and have words with him, professional athlete or not."

"He's..." Rath pauses, trying to find words that won't reveal too much while still being honest. "He's incredible. Smart, dedicated, really good at what he does. And yes, he's nice to me. Really nice."

"Aw, Rath. You sound happy when you talk about him."

"I am happy," Rath admits quietly. "Which is why I'm trying not to overthink it. We're taking things slow, seeing what develops."

"Taking things slow," Emma repeats skeptically. "That's very mature and practical of you. It's also completely unlike your usual approach to relationships."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're usually all-in from day one. Remember Jake from college? You were planning your future together after three dates. And Marcus from junior hockey? You were ready to move to whatever city he got drafted to."

Rath winces, remembering both of those relationship disasters. "Maybe I learned something from those experiences."

"Maybe. Or maybe this one matters too much for you to risk scaring him off by being your usual intense self." Emma's voice gentles. "Rath, there's nothing wrong with wanting something to be serious. If this person makes you happy, if you care about them, that's not something to downplay."

"It's complicated," Rath says. "There are... professional considerations. Team dynamics. It's not just about what I want."

"But what do you want? If all those complications didn't exist, what would you want this to be?"

The question hangs in the air between them, and Rath finds himself thinking about Percy's steady presence, the way he makes Rath feel valued and understood, the growing certainty that what they have is more significant than either of them is ready to acknowledge.

“I don’t know,” Rath says quietly into the phone. “I just… I really like him, Emma.”

"Aw, Rath," Emma’s voice is gentle. "Maybe it's time to be honest about what you're feeling, both with him and with yourself."

"What if he doesn't want the same thing? What if I push too hard and ruin what we do have?"

Emma pauses. "Rath, you deserve to be with someone who wants to be with you just as much. Not someone who settles for casual because it's easier."

After they hang up, Rath sits in his apartment thinking about Emma's words.