Page 34

Nicko, February 25th

“ N ate just texted; he’s on his way back to the dorms.”

Xander’s words stop me mid-bite, my mouth hanging open, half an inch away from my hotdog. With the end of the season in plain sight now, our team has taken on extra training sessions on our free Sundays, meaning I had to skip a post-workout meal if I wanted to make it to Milo’s game on time. So far, I’ve managed to keep my word and visit every single one that didn’t clash with my own schedule. Even if it meant that I had to take Xander along in order to spend some time with him as well.

After our first date , we’ve been on another. And another. And maybe we casually hung out a few times in between.

I’m not sure what exactly is going on between us right now, only that there is an expiration date looming over our heads. We’ll both graduate this summer, either parting ways or becoming teammates. Whatever the Rebels decide to do with me, I can’t see how this would work out. I’m still stressed out of my mind whenever we’re in public together.

“I thought he was staying at some girl’s place tonight.” My voice comes out scratchy and almost inaudible, which causes Xander to snort.

“Told you you’d lose your voice from screaming,” he lectures, and I shrug. I can’t keep quietly seated when there’s action on the ice. Doesn’t matter if it’s a Stanley Cup final or a regular middle school game.

“Didn’t you mean to shut me up anyways?”

“True, but now that Nate’s going to be around, I’ll have to think of a PG way to do so.”

I scrunch up my nose at the prospect of my brother walking in on Xander and me. It’s embarrassing enough that he already caught on to us over Christmas. I definitely won’t be staying over with my twin sleeping a few feet away and making smooching noises every five minutes.

Xander seems to share my thoughts, because he lets out a soft sigh, the air leaving his mouth in little white clouds.

“Walk a bit before we drive back?” he suggests, and I nod reluctantly. It’s hard to admit, but I’ve been looking forward to tonight.

Xander is different from what I’ve assumed based on the small glimpses he showed me on the ice and whenever he snarked at me from across my brother’s dorm room. Yes, he’s still annoying as fuck when he reprimands me for going just a bit over the speed limit or frowns at me for not unpacking my hockey gear right away.

But then there’s the way he lets himself get bossed around by a tiny Chihuahua whenever we’re visiting the dog pound to take Lila and Violet on a walk. The care with which he pets their little heads and strokes their backs. The smile that spreads on his face when one of them snuggles up to him. It’s similar to the one he wears when he masters one of his silly word puzzles or finds out a new historical fact literally no one else cares about.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve learnt that Xander holds a special interest in European history and even has a list of places he wants to see. In handwriting! We spent a whole evening looking at pictures from my last family visit to the Netherlands, Xander asking so many questions my jaw hurt from talking.

To my delight, I also discovered that pouring hot water over instant ramen really is the pinnacle of his cooking skills, since his mothers spoiled him rotten by preparing his lunch boxes until he graduated high school. It’s one of my favorite things to bring up every time he calls me a brat.

“You could come to my place.”

My stomach growls to remind me of the important tasks in life, and I finally take a huge bite of the hotdog.

“Are you serious?” Xander stares at me as if I suggested we just camp out here.

I snort, then nod, too busy chewing to give a proper answer.

“O-kay,” he frowns. “But do your roommates know?”

“Yes,” I mutter between bites, coughing when a bread crumb goes down the wrong pipe. Xander raises his hand to thump on my back, but I fend him off. “Wait, what do you mean, do they know? ”

“Well, do they know we’re seeing each other? Do they know you’re bi? Will we have to pretend to be study buddies when we’re there? Because I’m not comfortable lying–”

I raise my brows at him when he talks himself into a frenzy.

“Okay Xanxan, calm down for a second. Of course my roommates know that I’m bi.”

“Of course they know,” Xander echoes me flatly. “I thought you weren’t out?”

“I’m out to the people I care about, not on Instagram.” I shrug. I didn’t mean it as a jab, but Xander’s face darkens instantly, so I hurry to add: “But not all of them know we’ve been going out.” Which is definitely not for a lack of curiosity on their part. They picked up on me spending several nights away from home.

“Linden knows,” I remind Xander when the frown on his forehead deepens. Plopping the last piece of hotdog into my mouth, I wipe my fingers on my sweatpants. Predictably he cringes, and I grin. My heart beats in my throat when I think about what I’m going to do.

“And the rest will just find out today,” I tell him as I reach for his hand.

***

Despite my courage, I did hope at least some of my roommates would be out tonight. However, the driveway is packed when I pull up in front of the Nook. Xander throws me a careful look like he expects me to turn around and drive us to St. Bernard’s campus, so I can pretend to be Nate and sneak into their dorm room.

Instead, I kill the engine. We sit in silence for a while until Xander clears his throat.

“I didn’t pack a toothbrush.”

“You don’t have to give me an out.”

The corners of his mouth twitch with a suppressed grin. “Maybe I’m trying to give myself an out here?”

I shake my head at him as I open my door. I know this will prompt a whole lot of questions, and I already dread having to answer all of them. But I also know this is important. Less for myself than for Xander and my friends. And even if in a few months this will be nothing more than a memory, I know that it will still be safe with them.

The first thing I hear, when entering the house, is Micah’s deep Southern drawl. He is singing about taking the curve too fast in an old Corvette.

“You don’t even have a Corvette!” I holler from the hallway where I kick my shoes off, then reach for Xander’s hand. My heart is beating so fast right now, I feel dizzy.

“Nicko? I thought you were on a da–” Olli peeks around the corner of our living room, breaking off mid-sentence when he sees us. He blinks for a moment, his eyes going to our joined hands, and I instinctively squeeze my fingers around Xander’s.

“Oh,” he says. And then, after a moment: “Ahh! So your mystery date is Soft .”

“What?” I frown in confusion when Xander clears his throat next to me.

“Hello, Yardley.”

“You two know each other?” I gape, which prompts a chuckle from my roommate.

“All gays know each other, Nicholas. Haven’t I taught you anything?”

Xander rolls his eyes at Olli before turning toward me. “We’re both in the Bonham College LGBTQIA+ Alliance,” he explains, and I sigh.

“Of course you are.”

“And I call him Soft because it’s the opposi–” Olli starts eagerly, but I hold up one hand to interrupt him.

“No, no, please. I don’t even want to know.”

Dinner is actually fun. Micah always cooks like a Southern grandma expecting her whole family over for Christmas, so there’s plenty of food to satisfy all of us. Xander’s presence doesn’t prompt more than a few long looks and a hushed “But I thought he’s the enemy?!” from Marisol.

Still, I feel my shoulders slump with quiet relief once we’re climbing the stairs to my bedroom. My roommates have decided to huddle up downstairs for a spontaneous movie night, very pointedly not inviting us and turning the volume all the way up.

“What are they trying to tell us?” Xander chuckles when I shut the door on the barrage of fictional gunfire.

I rub the back of my neck in embarrassment as I dig out my phone to put a warning into the group chat before the cops come beating down our front door. “I think they’re trying to be supportive.”

“Do they do this every time you bring someone over?”

Xander is wandering around in my room, pointedly inspecting my shelves and desk. It’s pretty tidy, which stems mostly from the fact that I don’t hoard a lot of stuff. I’m neither into books nor movies. I always lacked the stamina to finish a whole TV series or video game. My biggest hobby is hockey—and it shows.

“Are you trying to subtly gather information?” I snort, when he’s so obviously fishing for my number of ex-partners.

“Can you blame me? You’re so closed off about your sexuality, but then you’re on Grindr and all your roommates know,” Xander trails off as he’s leaning forward to inspect the small collection of medals hanging from a shelf.

I wander over to him, hands buried in my sweatpants as I watch him turn them around in his fingers, the shiny material catching the beams of my overhead lights and reflecting them.

“I wanted to be out in college,” I tell him as I bring my hand up to his back, slowly tracing the crease between his shoulder blades. “But I also wasn’t sure which...label would fit me.”

“Okay?” Xander hums. He has let go of the medals but not turned around.

“Well, I only figured out I was into guys, too, at the end of high school. So when I came here, I was curious and ready to...experiment, I guess. But...I’m not big on going out and stuff. I told a handful of guys on the team, met up with a few people. And then the Pride Night disaster happened right before the draft.”

Xander’s shoulders stiffen under my hands when I remind him about the charity event that was overshadowed by the nasty statement of the Rebels’ former star player.

“Did that scare you?”

I put my arms around Xander’s waist, leaning my forehead against his muscular back as I silently bounce his question around in my head. I breathe in deeply through my nose, inhaling the citrusy smell that my brain automatically associates with so many memories of him.

“I want to say no,” I tell him as he turns around in my arms.

“It’s okay, I was scared, too. When I saw that clip–”

“Where Resnikoff and Jameson called McCoy a fucking disgrace on hockey for organizing the Pride night?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I honestly debated pulling out of the draft because of it.”

“You did?!” I pull back to get a better look at him. Xander’s face is grim, his lips pressed together in a tight line as he gives me a subtle nod, his hands reaching to pull me back against his body.

“I wasn’t sure what would be worse. Playing against them or being stuck on a team with one of them,” I say bitterly. I remember hovering over my cell phone with Nate, watching the clip of two grown men carelessly degrading an entire group of people over and over again, until my brother turned it off.

Xander laughs, his voice shaking. “Yeah, same.”

“But you didn’t pull out.”

“No, and I’m glad I didn’t. The Rebels dropped Resnikoff a week later, after all,” Xander reminds me, and I nod as I suck my lower lip between my teeth. It’s reassuring to know that jerk was never able to play on a professional team again. Still, Resnikoff doesn’t hesitate to scream his head off about what he calls a “witch hunt” whenever he gets the chance.

A year later, Jameson’s team just didn’t renew his contract.

I’m not naive enough to believe the problem is taken care of, though. If the two hadn’t been recorded during a private party, the public would have been absolutely clueless. Jameson was even scheduled to participate in the charity event. Hell, Resnikoff could have still been playing for the Rebels then, becoming Xander’s and maybe my own teammate next season.

The thought has me shivering, which Xander must mistake for feeling cold, because he wraps his arms tighter around me, his hand rubbing over my back.

“Don’t you feel like the Rebels...sacrificed you?” I never thought I would actually ask that question after our horrible interview, but I just have to know what persuaded Xander to help them out after a big fuck-up like that.

By the way he’s frowning down at me, I’m not sure he understands where I’m coming from.

“I’m not saying you got drafted because you’re gay,” I hurry to point out. I’ve never meant to say that, not then and definitely not now. But I’m also horrible with words, and I’m fumbling again. Contrary to three years ago, there’s no host and no live audience. Instead, Xander gives me the time to explain myself, his hand keeping up the constant stroke on my back.

“What I mean is, they put a target on your back, Xan. Everyone knows Resnikoff and Jameson couldn’t have been the only douchebags in the league, but they pushed you out there on their campaign to save the team’s image. They took advantage of a young player.”

“I don’t feel like that,” Xander objects. His forehead has smoothed out again, and he’s jutting out his chin to try and put it onto my head.

“Hey!” I protest. “Don’t do that. I’m not fucking short.”

But he cups the back of my head, guiding it down to rest on his chest, and somehow we fit together perfectly.

“I never meant to hide my sexuality, and while the whole thing was a shock, I also knew before that there would be assholes. That’s just life. When the Rebels approached me, they gave me a chance to tell my story first and amplify my voice instead of having others speak for me.”

“Okay,” I sigh, obviously not fully sold on this. I know the Rebels didn’t mean any harm to Xander, but I’m also afraid of how the league will accept him next season. Of course, he’s doing good work, but a small and ugly part of me doesn’t care about that.

Not, when it means some assholes will single him out with dirty hits for it.

“You never answered my question,” Xander points out, and it takes me a while to catch on to what he means.

I chuckle softly when I realize he’s trying to steer us away from the heavy topic and pull me out of my own head.

“How many dates I introduced to my roommates? It’s a big, fat zero.”

“Zero guys or zero dates? ” Xander probes, and I snort at his adamancy.

“What is it with the twenty questions, Xanxan? Zero people .”

I laugh when I lift my head and find Xander gaping at me like I just told him I’ve been living as a monk all throughout college.

“Don’t worry, I’m not celibate.”

“You certainly didn’t give me that impression when I laid you out in the back of your car.”

“Shut up!” I swat at him as I feel my cheeks flush. “I never hooked up with anyone I felt comfortable enough with to invite over. My roommates are pretty cool—don’t tell them I said that! But they’re also...a bit unique sometimes. I wouldn’t want some stupid jock to make fun of Linden or Oliver, because then I would have to deck them and it would turn into this whole thing.”

Xander’s lips twitch, and I narrow my eyes at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replies, but now there’s a full-blown grin plastered all over his face. His hands grab me before I can protest, and the next thing I know he’s peppering my face with small kisses.

“What the– get off of me!” I laugh, but thankfully he doesn’t listen.