Ice Cold

02

"Maybe."

Eventually we made it to Micah's room and I set my stuff down next to his bed. I had been here one other time when I went with Micah and his parents to move him in. He lived in a suite with other freshmen hockey players. The bedroom was small, but bigger than mine, and it was a shared room.

"My roommate is staying with his girlfriend this weekend," Micah told me, sitting down on his desk. "He said you could use his bed. He put on new sheets before he left."

I scowled at him. "I'm not sleeping in some dude's bed.

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, you can sleep in mine then. I'll take his."

"I'll take the floor."

"You're not sleeping on the floor," Micah denied, crossing his arms over his chest.

I let out a sigh but didn't respond. It wasn't worth arguing with Micah. He always seemed to win our arguments anyway, not that we argued about anything serious. He just didn't like to see me be stubborn or wallow in self pity.

"I think you'll like hanging out with my friends here," Micah said, obviously feeling like he had won our argument. "They're kinda low key. Not real big partiers. It's nice."

I had enough of parties in high school back when I was popular and so good at faking like I had my life together when I was really doing everything I could to hide who I really was. Back then, parties were where I could let loose and receive all the validation I never got from my parents. They were where I could be with girls and try to convince myself that was what I wanted.

Now a party seemed like the last place I wanted to be. I was beyond seeking validation and trying to convince myself I was straight. Now I just wanted to be left alone and perceived by no one.

"I can just stay here and you can go hang out with your friends," I told Micah, sitting down on his bed.

Micah shot me a look that told me that wasn't going to happen. He would rather stay here with me than leave me all alone. He thought I didn't socialize enough and he made sure to tell me that. Just like I made sure to tell him he wasn't my therapist and he could keep his mouth shut.

"I'm not leaving you here alone," he said, shaking his head. "So let's not even start an argument."

I nodded, rolling my eyes as I leaned over on his bed to plug my phone into his charger.

"Have you made any friends at school?" he asked me, though he already knew the answer.

I wasn't the friend making type. In high school, I had been friends with all those kids since we first learned how to skate. I never needed to make friends because we had been around each other before it was so hard. Then I became captain of the hockey team in high school and I didn't have to make any new friends then either. I had the hockey team and that was it.

It wasn't like I was trying and failing to make friends in college. I just didn't talk to anyone. I barely even talked to my team because I didn't want them finding out more about me than I wanted them to know, though I was sure some of them already knew. At least the ones my age who I had played against the last few years.

Eventually, Micah won our silent argument and dragged me over to one of his friend's dorm rooms. At least Micah was an honest person, and the gathering we headed to was actually low key. There were only four other people there sitting in front of a TV and playing NHL on Xbox.

The one who opened the door was taller than both Micah and me. His expression brightened when he saw the two of us and moved aside to let us in.

"Micah!" he exclaimed, his arms opened wide. "And you must be Landon. I'm Dylan, one of Micah's teammates."