“I should be,” I said honestly, then got up. There was the scent of coffee in the air. The pot was traditionally empty, but that was a small problem to solve. “Fuck, but I should be,” I muttered to myself.
“Why don’t we go out one of these nights? Just the three of us. Forget about the team and everything,” Andrei said.
“Sounds like fun,” I said without committing to it. I liked these guys. I liked them enough to want to be friends with them, especially since they had been put through hell in order to say the things they had never dared utter aloud. Griffin had declared his love for Andrei on a livestream before hundreds of thousands of viewers. The clip of him kissing Andrei on the ice in front of a cheering crowd of hockey fans had exploded, getting fifty million views on theBlades of NorthwoodTikTok alone. That didn’t even come close to the number of fan edits that took the internet by storm in the months that followed.
But his speech about the way we’d all lost parts of ourselves to the newfound fame had shifted something critical last year. The show had switched its tone and production rate to be more respectful of its subjects. We had all lived a little freer last semester, thanks to Griffin. We all owed him for that.
I’d never had the balls to fall in love like that. Well, almost never. I’d come close a couple of years ago. It was something I didn’t like thinking too much about. It had gone nowhere, so it didn’t warrant dwelling on.
As the coffee maker slurped the water from its container and heated it into the steam above the filter and the finely ground coffee, my gaze wandered out of focus.
A July evening replaced the August morning. Instead of the house and the coffee and the teammates, there was a field of grass, an apple tree, and a shirtless young man with hands tucked under his head, a round face satiated and glowing with comfort, eyes twinkling with mischief, and the shadows of defined muscles still trembling from exertion. He’d pulled his shorts back up, as had I, but the taste of him still lived on my tongue.
That was a week after his nineteenth birthday, though I hadn’t been invited, of course. I was returning to Northwood soon for my sophomore year, and he was leaving home for the first time, going to Chicago. Something had finally broken free from the ice between us. I’d gotten him a gift. Helluva trouble to find it. But it was packed in a neat, blue box with a golden inscription. The ribbon was a lighter shade of blue, like a morning sky over a deep ocean.
“What’s that for?” he asked.
“Happy birthday,” I said, licking my lips as if there would still be traces of him left there. That had been my first time with a guy, as was his, and we hadn’t gone beyond each other’s mouths, but it had been more exhilarating than anything I could have imagined. “It’s also a parting gift, I guess.”
“Should have gotten me two gifts, cheapskate,” Seth whispered, narrowing his eyes at me.
“Don’t like you that much,” I muttered.
His cheeks burned brighter as he untied the ribbon. “Fuck, D. You should have,” he said as the brand name was revealed.
“A future marine biologist,” I said, shrugging. “Felt right.”
He shot me a scolding look, then opened the box, already knowing what was inside. The brass compass sat on a fine silk cushion.
Seth threw his head back and laughed so loudly I was sure his family would hear us, sure his brother would come running. “You asshole,” Seth said, gleaming. “You took out the needle.”
I nodded. “So you could get lost at sea,” I said agreeably.
He shook his head, still laughing. “Fuck you, D. It’s too sweet.”
We shared a look that was all playful hatred, masking the mutual recognition that this had lasted way too short.
“Thanks,” he said. “I didn’t get you anything.”
“No more than I’d expect from you,” I said, but the humor was leaving my voice. A year before that, just before I’d left home for the first time to join the Titans at Northwood, Seth had walked with me into a forest not too far from our homes, and we’d kissed. It had terrified me, awakening a dormant feeling that I had been aware of for years.
The kiss had shattered something in me, breaking it like I’d broken the compass, and I hadn’t been able to find my way back. Then, Seth left, and so did I, and a year passed before we were in the same little town again. But if I hadn’t wanted to remember our first summer together, I absolutely refused to think of the last.
My coffee was done, fresh and hot and bitter like sins. I poured a full mug and carried it out to the front porch, memories threatening to drown me.
TWO
Seth
“That’sthe last of the boxes,” Nick said after dropping it on the floor. He’d barely broken a sweat. Years of conditioning and clashing on the ice had made him into something superhuman, and you could trust him to point that out in all the ways.
“Good. Thanks. Um…” I shrugged, practically tilting my head to the door.
“Hungry?” he asked, not getting the message.
“We ate two hours ago,” I said. “I don’t burn calories the way you do.”
Nick scratched the back of his head. “How often do we get to hang out?”