Page 79 of The Roommate Game

I skated to the bench and thanked Boris for the towel he handed me. My stomach growled on cue. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and it was almost two o’clock already. There weren’t many affordable options in the immediate vicinity, and I was getting tired of fruit and ramen.

A sudden pang of loneliness battled with hunger.

I blinked back tears and sat to unlace my skates while Boris gave me his notes. I listened with half an ear, letting the sounds of the rink lull me. The swish and glide of blades, the echo of unfamiliar voices.

Fuck, I missed Celine, I missed Smithton…

I missed Gus.

“Are you hearing me, Rafe?”

“Uh, yes…I’m just—I should eat.”

Boris grunted. “Go. Eat. We leave in three days. I think you’re ready.”

I smiled as I changed my socks and slipped my left foot into my sneaker. Boris was terrible at small talk. “Thanks. I think so too. And thanks for…all this. I know I wouldn’t be at this club without your sponsorship and?—”

“I vouch for character,” he intercepted with a dismissive wave. “I’m not the one who pays the club on your behalf.”

“Right. I know that,” I sputtered. “It’s been so busy that I didn’t ask who I should thank. God, that’s terrible of me. I need to send a note.”

Boris cocked his head curiously. “You don’t know?”

Something in his tone set my exhausted body on instant alert.

“Um…no. Should I?”

“Yes, I think so. It is your friend.” Hummingbirds were in my ears now. But I heard him loud and clear. “Langley. Augustus Langley.”

My jaw fell open. “Gus?”

Boris nodded, his bushy brows knit like a white caterpillar above his eyes. “Yes. Go eat, rest, and use the facility for a massage.”

Gus? Gus…did this?

For me?

I stuffed my feet into my sneakers, zipped my bag, and jumped up. “I have to go.”

“Go? Go where? Rafe! Come back!”

No chance.

I raced to my car, my hands trembling as I put the key in the ignition, roared the engine to life, and headed north to Smithton.

At the edge of town, I pulled over to send a text.

Where r u? I need 2 c u now. Right now, I typed.

We hadn’t spoken in three weeks. I didn’t know Gus’s schedule anymore. I should have thought of that before impulsively skipping town. I stared at my screen, wondering what to do. He didn’t live in our house anymore, he didn’t have hockey practice. He could be anywhere…with anyone.

Hi. U ok?

No. Where? Please.

My cell lit up with an incoming call. I didn’t answer. I didn’t trust my voice, and I wasn’t going to cry. No way.

I’m calling u.