My skates chopped across the ice, spraying little shards behind me as I glided past the defense. The puck whirred at my feet, swishing back and forth as my stick guided it to the net. I was hyperfocused, high on adrenaline and whatever beautiful drug they must have sent spraying through the AC vents. This was my element, and I was in the zone, calm and dangerous and light. Everything—the cold nipping at my cheeks, the clunky mouthguard covering my teeth, and the ice beneath my skates—felt so right.
Skidding to a near stop to sidestep a member of defense, I sent the puck flying between his parted legs, barely whizzing past Simon and sinking into the back corner of the net.
Behind me, my team erupted into a chorus of cheers, skating over to give me a solid pat on the back or a knock to the shoulder. Jason pried off his helmet in front of me, levelling me with a droll look. "Between my legs, Luke? Really?"
I grinned, spitting out my mouthguard. "Everything else ends up down there, anyways. Don't be so surprised."
"Alright, alright!" Coach called from the stands, blowing his whistle. "That's game. Everyone huddle up, chop chop!"
Quickly, everyone gathered into a sweaty thrum around Coach, who was tapping his clipboard with a pen. Thomas was to my right, leaning into my shoulder with a lazy grin.
"Lucky shot, dude," he said, knocking his skate into mine. His smile turned sharp. "But next time, I'm handing you your ass in scrimmage."
I snorted. "You can try."
"Quiet down," Coach said. The talking ceased. "I just wanted to run you all through the policy for Friday's game. We're taking the bus from school campus to the rink, but you're responsible for getting yourselves home. If you want to drive your own car to the event, ask me for a form before you leave tonight. I need those in by Wednesday to give to admin. As for the game, all of your positions are staying the same." Coach hit his clipboard with the butt of his pen, clicking it closed. "Check the athletics board tomorrow to see who's gonna be starting. Other than that, you're free to go. Just give me a quick: hawks!"
"Hawks!" the team cheered around me, hooting and pumping their fists in the air. Thomas brought his fingers to his lips and let out a shrill whistle. Coach tucked his clipboard under his arm and clapped once, grinning wolfishly.
"Now, go shower! You all smell like shit!"
Laughing, the team started to waddle off of the ice, collapsing on benches to unlace their skates and peel off sweaty helmets. Some ran for the locker rooms, trying to get the first showers. As I was undoing my skates by the rink, Jason came up to me, already out of his shin-guards and making a beeline to the shower stalls.
"Hey, I'm sorry to ask, but can you give me a ride?" he asked, glancing briefly at the time on his phone. "Mom wants me home in half an hour, but the bus doesn't leave for another forty minutes."
"Yeah, of course," I said. "Just give me ten minutes to change. I'll meet you by the car."
Jason visibly deflated in relief, grinning swiftly before running for the locker room. "Thanks, Luke! You're the best!"
I finished prying off my skates, shouldering my duffle to change in the locker room. Not the one by the rink, though: Robert had been kind enough to give me my own, designated locker where I could keep my things in the room attached to another rink down the hall.
Catching a quick glimpse at the time on my phone, I made my way down the hall, shouldering past the swinging locker room door and hurrying inside. Quickly, I dropped my bag on the bench and opened my locker, pulling off my shirt and spraying on some fresh deodorant. I made quick work of redressing, pushing out of the locker room, and making my way to the bulletin board in the hallway. Next to the hockey schedule was a poster for public skate days and one with big blue letters advertising some figure-skating competition. I snapped a picture of the board on my phone before getting on my way.
I hurried to my car, tossing my jacket in the backseat and getting comfortable behind the wheel. I was a few minutes early, but Jason should be out any minute, ready to go. So I cranked on some music and settled into my chair. My eyes had closed for just a second when I heard a knock on my open window.
"Hold on, Jase, I'll unlock the—"
"Not Jase."
My eyes snapped open to meet a familiar pair of green-blue ones.
The Boy was leaning against the car door, with one arm resting on the window and the other wrapped casually around a motorcycle helmet. He looked a little out of breath, like he had been running, in a soft grey tank top and with a dainty cross swinging around his neck. A lopsided grin pulled at his lips, a little awkward, and he had a heavy-looking skating bag slung over one shoulder and a jacket thrown over the other. He was backlit by the streetlamps, but his face still shone in the evening light, letting his freckles twinkle.
"Jesus, you scared me," I breathed, sitting up a little straighter.
The Boy's smile tightened and his cheeks flushed. "Sorry about that. I thought I saw you and I figured now was as good of a time as any to give this back."
With the bandaged hand that was braced on the car, The Boy grabbed the jacket that was tossed over his shoulder. In the low light, I didn't recognize it at first, but suddenly I realized it was my leather jacket. It felt weighty and familiar and, as he passed it to me, our fingers brushed.
"You left it in my cousin's car. I figured you'd want it back," he said with a shrug.
I dropped it in my lap, running my thumb over the sandpaper surface. The silver detailing caught the ceiling lights of the car. "Sorry I just left it."
The Boy pushed off of the car, grabbing his matte, black helmet with both hands. "It's fine. You were kind of in a hurry."
There was a long silence where we both just looked at each other, unsure of what to say. I felt the night crawl up my spine, and the low hum of my music was suddenly more eerie than relaxing. To break the tension, I gestured to his bandaged hand, asking: "what happened?"
He looked surprised, flushing a light pink. "Oh, uh, yeah. I cut myself with my skate. No big deal."
"Oh, damn."
Again, the night swallowed our conversation. The Boy stood there, seemingly contemplative. Just as he looked like he was about to speak, the passenger side door opened.
"Hey, Luke," Jase said, climbing inside and tossing his bag on the floor. He leaned forward to catch a glimpse out of my window. "Who's this?"
My gaze darted to The Boy, only to see he was already looking at me with those impossibly big eyes. They shone like oceans, rippling with specks of light. "I'm Beau." He glanced at Jase. "Sorry to hold you two up. Have a good night."
As he turned to leave, I found myself calling a wavered "wait."
Beau turned around, arching a brow. He stared at me for a long moment, his gaze intense and deep and blue. I swallowed, wetting my lips.
"Thanks, Beau," I said. His name felt like caramel, melting on my tongue. "Have a good night."
A small smile tugged at his cheeks as I rolled up the window and pulled out of the parking space.
Right as I was about to turn the corner out of the parking lot, I caught a glimpse of him in the review mirror, still standing in the same spot, staring after us.
"So," Jase asked, "what were you and that guy doing?"
A faint smile caught my lips. "Just... catching up."
*+*❅*+*
The uneven road rumbled under the car as Jase and I drove nearly fifteen minutes to his apartment. The trip had been mostly quiet, save for the hum of my music, which was strange for Jase. By this point, he would usually be talking my ear off.
"Is everything okay?" I asked him, glancing at his slumped figure in my passenger seat.
Jason bit his lip, looking out of his window. "I don't understand why the fuck my Mom is like this," he sighed, running his hands down his face. "It's so frustrating that she just expects me to do whatever she wants, all the time. Especially with the twins."
I pursed my lips. Jason's mom and stepdad had recently had a set of twins, Kylie and Peter, and the two were often a handful. Whenever the couple would leave the house—which was pretty often, considering they were newlyweds still basking in their honeymoon phase—Jason was left to pick up the slack and take care of his half-siblings.
"You've tried talking with her, right?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer. Jase snorted.
"Yeah, and she just gets mad. Pulls the whole, 'look at everything I've done for you' bullshit. Threatened to make Paul beat the shit out of me. What an ass."
I frowned. "You want any help babysitting tonight?"
Jase shook his head. "I can manage."
"You're always welcome at my place if you need it, okay?"
His eyes softened. "Okay." A pause. "Thanks."
After that, he quickly shifted the topic to the new jersey designs.
We pulled to a stop outside of his apartment complex, where his mother and Paul were already trying to hail a taxi outside, dressed in a short black dress and a nice button-up respectively. Jase's mom had her hair tugged up in a pretty updo and her nails looked freshly done, painted with glitter. Paul checked the time on his golden watch, matching the ring on his fourth finger. The two were all high cheekbones and perfect, white teeth as they stood on the side of the road, an illusion of poise and grace.
Jason's eyes widened with sudden panic as he clambered out of the car while I was still parking, hauling his bag over his shoulder. He looked a mess next to them, sweaty and still in his practice clothes with dark, heavy bags clinging to his undereyes. "Mom? Where are Peter and Kylie?"
His mother scowled. It didn't suit her. "Waiting for you upstairs, Jason. You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago."
Jase looked ready to blow a fuse. "You left them alone?"
"Well, if you had just been here on time—"
"Thanks for the ride, Luke." Without a second glace, Jase brushed past them, running into his building. His mother glared after him, crossing her arms before she turned up at me, red-painted lips drawn down.
"He's such a handful, isn't he?" she asked me. This close, her eyes looked a little droopy in the outer corners, like she had already had a little to drink. "Not even saying hello to his own mother."
I said nothing to dignify her thought as I peeled from the curb to head home, leaving her and Paul to hail their taxi.
Jason's place was about ten minutes from my house, and I took the drive to think. I opened the sunroof, letting air rush in. Lights twinkled in the sky overhead, and although most of them were just airplanes and satellites, I liked to imagine they were stars. The night was clear of clouds, and the moon was bright and crescent.
My phone buzzed with a notification. At the light, I glanced at it to see it was Jase, thanking me again for the ride home. I asked if everything was alright with the twins. He said it was.
As I finally arrived home, I climbed out of the car and slid my leather jacket over my shoulders. Closing the door and shoving my hands in my pockets, I felt something nestled in the bottom of one. I pulled out an unfamiliar, pink page marker, written on with blue pen.
"Call me," I read, flipping it over to find a phone number scribbled on the other side. It was signed "—B."