He scoffed and turned to face me. “Yes,Dad. I ate today.”
“Mm, no.” I reached for him in spite of myself, fingers grazing over his jaw. “Maybe Daddy, if you really want.”
“Fuck you!” He pulled away from me, but he was unable to hide his smile or the flush that crept over his cheeks.
I let my hand fall back to the steering wheel. “Mm. Maybe later. If you are very good boy.”
“I hate you.”
I smiled. “No. I don’t think you do.”
He didn’t argue, which was something. We fellinto another comfortable silence until we got close to his place. I thought maybe he’d dozed off. I was exhausted, too, after the game, and if it weren’t for Micah, I would have definitely been in my bed.
But then he shifted and said, “I really am sorry about this morning.”
“It’s okay.” It wasn’t. Not really. But I understood.
He nodded. “Did you, ah…did you win your game?”
“Yes. Not great points, but new goalie took the last period, and we finished 2-1. He’s going to be good player, I think.”
“Are they thinking of trading you, or?—”
“No. Probably backup goalie. San Jose want him, I think. But it’s all difficult now with new owner making so many changes.”
“Yeah,” Micah said with a scoff. “Journey’s a good guy, but he can be such a pain in the fucking ass.”
“Journey?” It took me a second to place the name, but then it struck me. “Oh. Pretty guy, friends with Ben?”
Micah went pale and didn’t brace himself when I took the turn onto his street. “Oh shit. You’re not supposed to know that yet.”
“Don’t worry. I am vault of secrets. But that makes me feel better. I meet him the other day. Wasn’t bad guy.”
“No. He can be a bit of a dick, but he’s not a bad guy.” The way he said that told me there was more tohim and Journey than old friends, but I was going to let that lie for the moment.
“He was worried about you.” I hesitated, then said, “He tell me to be careful with you too. That you are only interested in one thing.”
In the dark car, I could see Micah’s cheeks darken. “Yeah. I’m not surprised. It’s fine.”
I didn’t think it was fine. I think it hurt him. Once again, the people he loved didn’t know him, and that had to sting.
Micah said nothing as I pulled into the spot near his place, and when I moved to turn the car off, his hand darted out, and he grabbed my arm. “Thanks for the ride. Catch you around?”
“Micah—”
“Please don’t walk me in.” He let go and grabbed his cane, slamming the door behind him as he began to hurry away.
It only took me a second to realize that his bag was in the back, so I shut the car off and grabbed it, racing after him. “Micah! You forget your—” My words died when his front door came into view, and the moment I saw it, without thinking, I dove at him.
He was moving slower than me, so I had caught up to him, and he let out a sharp cry as I tackled him to the ground.
“Vanya! What the fuck are you doing?—”
“Quiet,” I snapped. He obeyed like he was born to do it. I shifted my weight off him, my eyes on his door, which was sitting partly open. I let out a breathas I gathered him close to me. “Your front door is open. There is someone there.”
For a brief, hopeful moment, I thought maybe he was going to tell me that he knew. That a friend was waiting for him. But instead, he froze, and then he began to shake.
“What do you mean it’s open?” His voice trembled in the back of his throat, and I held him tighter as I rose to my feet, taking him with me.
