Page 73

Crew

E ver since last week, things seemed to be moving in the right direction with my parents. They both texted me after dinner, offering another apology and assuring me that from now on, they’d not only stop shit-talking each other, but they’d play nice so that we could do things altogether sometimes.

My dad had been going on for fifteen minutes about the NCAA tournament starting this weekend and about the end of my brother’s hockey season. His youth hockey team apparently lost in the championship for their league, and Nate was heartbroken. I felt bad for the kid. I knew what losing a trophy felt like; it sucked. But it was better that he learned young that winning wasn’t always guaranteed. It was going to take hard work and years of commitment if he was going to reach all the milestones he longed for.

I was currently in the middle of that dream now.

With six days until the start of the tournament, I’d never been so focused on anything in my life. I came to Cedar University with the goal of winning an NCAA title and if I left this school without one, I’d be wrecked.

“He just keeps on crying,” my dad said through speakerphone while I folded my laundry in stacks on my bed. “I don’t know how to cheer him up.”

“Nate will get over it. He’ll probably be back to normal in a few days.”

Sighing, he said, “Yeah, hopefully.”

Whatever he said afterwards, I wasn’t sure. I zoned out, hearing the gruff timbre of Lane’s voice, accompanied with the sweet ring of Kota’s.

My two favorite people were hanging out in the living room without me? Immediately getting a rush of fomo , I stuttered, cutting my dad off. “D—dad? I, uh, can I call you back later? I’ve gotta run.”

“Oh, sure. Love you, Nick.”

“Love you too.”

“No,” Lane said as I wandered in, “Crew.”

“Did I hear my name?” I smirked, arms widened like the cocky son of a bitch I was.

But Kota’s wince broke my smile. She was sitting beside Lane on the couch, a soothing hand rested on his back. His shoulders were weighed down, head buried into his hands between his legs.

When he looked up, all I saw was a haunted expression, causing a pang in my heart. Eyes glossy, he let out a shaky breath.

“Is everything alright? Am I interrupting something?”

“Actually, uh,” Kota stood, “I think you guys should talk.”

“Okay...” I shifted my weight nervously side to side. “You wanna come talk in my room?”

“Yeah,” Lane softly agreed.

I closed the door behind us. “What’s going on?”

He stared at me for a moment, those gears in his head turning like he had no idea what to say. My heart was practically spasming inside my ribcage as I waited for an answer. I was about to grab Lane by the shoulders and shake him.

“I wanna sign with the Blackhawks,” he spit out.

I could feel my face light up, and I hopped up and down like a kangaroo. “Are you serious? Holy shit! I knew you’d come around! I knew—”

“Wait,” he stopped me, shoulders visibly shaking. After taking in my excitement and watching it disappear just as quickly, Lane’s skin paled. He looked like he could vomit. “Bridget wants to stay here.”

I gasped lightly for air, giving a small claw to my chest to feel for the knife wound. My disappointment was running through the air, thick like smoke. I stepped over to my desk, planting a hand on it to steady myself before sitting in my desk chair. “So...” I paused, soaking in the news, “you’re not coming with me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why can’t Bridget just come with? I’m sure Kota—”

“I tried that. She wants to stay here to be closer to her mom.”

Bridget was adopted, and after a lifelong search for her birth mom, she finally found her a few months ago. I didn’t blame her for not wanting to leave now.

I was torn between telling Lane to stay with Bridget and begging him to come to Chicago with me.

My voice cracked, “Lane... you know I’d follow you anywhere. I’d stay in Minnesota just to make your life easier, but,” I shrugged, “I’m already signed. My hands are tied.”

He stared at the floor. “I know.”

I flipped my wrist over, staring at the 1 that was forever etched into my skin. “But I want you to know I’ll understand if you choose Bridget.”

Practically whispering, Lane asked, “If this were flipped, would you choose Kota?”

“No,” I immediately answered. “Over anyone else, I’d choose her. But not you.”

I didn’t even have to think about it. My heart was with Kota, every bit of it. And that was why I put my fears aside to keep her in my life. Having her as part of my future was more important than remaining caught up in my past. She’s brought a lot into my life— love, happiness, patience, resilience.

But my soul was with Lane. We hadn’t spent longer than a few days apart in almost five years, and the thought of being nearly five hundred miles away from him was harrowing.

“You don’t have to rush this, Lane,” I said, watching him tug at his own chest, eyes still glassy. “You still have a little bit of time.”

“Barely.”

“Stop looking at it like the countdown to a bomb explosion. Try not to think about it anymore tonight. Sleep on it.” All he did was nod.

I was struggling to envision Chicago without Lane, but at the same time, what kind of brother would I be if I didn’t support whatever decision he made? Clearly, this was hard enough for him already.

“And just know that either way, I’m on your side,” I assured him. Offering a ghost of a smile, Lane opened his arms, gesturing for me to do the same, but I waved him off. “We’ve been hugging too much lately.”

He smiled wider. “Fine, didn’t want to anyway.”