“Can’tyoucall him?”
Arlo snorted. “And tell him that? Might be weird coming from me.”
“No, that like—uh—I mean, don’t tell him I miss him—or—or maybe you should? Maybe just ask how he is. See if he misses me too.”
Fuck, he was such a mess. What was it about Harrison that made him incapable of speech?
Arlo gave him a long stare. “Can I take a hose to you? You’re giving…desperation.”
Jett opened his mouth but was interrupted by the waitress returning with their drinks, a beer for Arlo, and a strawberry daiquiri for Jett. She asked if they were ready to order food, and he realized he hadn’t even looked at the menu, despite arriving before Arlo.
Luckily, Arlo seemed content to take charge of the situation. A minute later, the waitress was gone with their orders.
Jett picked at another napkin, that awful gnawing feeling in his stomach that had nothing to do with hunger. His eyes pricked with tears as he remembered that last day, curled in bed with Harrison while they talked about embarrassing hockey stories and Jett’s eccentric father.
He hadn’t realized how affection-starved he was, and now it seemed impossible to go without it. He also thought about how he’d chickened out from trying to kiss Harrison again, but it was all he could think about.
Jett jumped when Arlo flicked a sugar packet at him, and he quickly flicked it back, realizing he’d been lost in thought.
“I’ll call him,” Arlo said. “But you should too—text or call, whatever feels right. You don’t have to spill your guts, just start with a hello. Talk about the weather, talk hockey, complain about your clearly less-talented teammates. The guy’s been through it, and he’s been alone for a long time.My guess? It wasn’t about not wanting to move. It was about leaving the safety of what he knows. That kind of isolation becomes a shield.”
Arlo had caught on to the main reason for Jett’s sulking, which was why he wanted to have this conversation with him, not Ryan.
“You think so?”
Arlo nodded. “You know, my mom is his dad’s sister. My mom married my dad and had me, and she thought she was too good for the family. We lived in Halifax and never talked tothe poor Killingers. Then Harrison’s dad’s business took off, and suddenly my parents tried to get in with them again.
“When I came out at sixteen, my parents kicked me out. I hitchhiked to Windsor and begged Harrison to take me in. He’s my cousin—we’d never even met before that. It had only been a year since the accident, and he was still a wreck, but he let me stay. He drove me to school every day, made sure I was safe, and pushed me to stay on the hockey team. He was there when I graduated high school, and when I got accepted to Acadia on a scholarship. He doesn’t like the judgment that comes with the hockey world, but he still loves the game. And more than that—he shows up for the people he loves. Even if it takes him a while to talk himself into it.”
They were quiet for several minutes after that, but Jett’s heart thumped hopefully in his chest again. He needed to convince Harrison to come to Toronto, but he understood that he had to give him time. Just because Jett often jumped into things head-on didn’t mean everyone else did.
“Do you—have you spoken to your parents since then?”
It was such a personal question that Jett regretted asking it the second the words left his mouth. He could see both sides of it—wanting to reconnect with an estranged parent, and also needing to keep that distance for self-preservation. He didn’t let himself think about talking to his mother anymore. But when it came to his dad... he loved him so deeply, he couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have no parent in his life at all.
Arlo grimaced and let out a dry, humourless laugh. “Yeah, don’t tell Harrison—but they messaged me two weeks ago, right after the news broke that I was headed to Montreal. Somehow, in just two paragraphs, they managed to congratulate themselves, ask me for money, and guilt-trip me. Impressive, really.”
“Fuck them,” said Jett, surprising himself with the amount of fury in his tone. “If joining this business has taught me anything, it’s that the people who show up foryouare the ones who matter. You make your own family of friends and teammates, so you don’t need them.”
Arlo looked grateful, and then he began to laugh. “Oh shit.” He laid his head down on his arms, choking on laughter.
Bewildered, Jett waited for him to explain, laughing a little and taking a sip of his drink.
Arlo sat back up and wiped at his eyes. “I just got the best idea of how to get Harrison’s attention. Do you know anyone who works in the Sunbursts store at the arena?”
Harrison
It was a beautiful September day, and Harrison couldn’t care less. There was nothing like realizing that your life was bleak after your only social outlet was gone.
Arlo called him often enough, but he was busy and immersed in the experience of hockey. Training camps were a brutal dawn-to-dusk of drills and exercises, and trying to sort out lines and positions.
That deep-buried jealousy spiked again, and Harrison couldn’t help but think he’d be doing the same thing now if things had gone differently.
Then again, if he’d been in the NHL at nineteen, he wouldn’t have taken Arlo in. Arlo likely would have gone to his parents, who would have still been living in Kentville because they weren’t driven out by grief and shame. Arlo would have been best friends with Luca, and Harrison would have flown them to Toronto to watch him play on Christmas vacation, showing them the arena, his fancy condo and his teammates.
With a heavy sigh, he headed to his home gym. He’d promised Jett he wouldn’t sink as low as before, and he’d been surprised at how much he didn’t want to disappoint him. He hadn’t counted on the tugging loneliness, and the clouds swarming his brain the moment his sunshine boy was gone.
Before he was halfway down the path, the alert went off on his phone to let him know that someone was coming down his driveway. Heart racing, he opened the security camera app on his phone, his brain somehow automatically jumping to thoughts of Jett appearing at his house like an angelic vision of curly hair and warmth—but it was just a FedEx truck.
