“It’s just really important that I talk to him, you know. He was Carter’s idol,” I whisper back, my chest tightening and softening again. My eyes flicker over to Josh and he’s standing up out of his seat, pulling at his blazer, flashing a smile to no one in particular.
“I know, Miles. I just don’t want you to freak him out with your fangirling,” she laughs, pushing out her chair from the table. I ignore her comment and reach for her hand as we start to walk over to his side of the room.
She squeezes my hand and looks up at me, the fairy lights in the room casting a luminous glow into her eyes. I squeeze back and my heartbeat picks up when we’re five steps away from him. What do I say? What do I do now that I’m so close to meeting the person that Carter would have sold his left lung for? I inch closer towards him, trying to make this interaction seem accidental. He’s dressed in a dark blue suit and tie, his black hair cornrowed down to the nape of his neck. This is what greatness looks like.
Holy shit, I’m totally freaking out.
Maybe I should have let the girls listen to Taylor Swift on the way here for good measure. She's supposed to calm nerves."Taylor Swift just gets me, you know?"Wren said once. He catches my eye and smiles. Instantly, I smooth out my shirt before extending my hand.
“Hi, I’m Miles Davis, current right wing for the hockey team,” I say, my voice an octave higher than I intended. Josh looks down at my hand, then to Wren who is beaming at my side, and then he shakes my hand. It’s firm and sharp.
“Josh Raymond. It’s nice to meet you, Miles,” he says, a dimple popping out on his right cheek. Carter would be going insane right now. Honestly, so am I.
“I’m a huge fan of yours, like, truly. You’ve inspired so much of my team but especially me,” I ramble, not knowing whether to look into his eyes or somewhere else.
“Thank you. I really appreciate it,” he replies. “How’s the season going? I came to see your final last season, it was insane.”
“It’s off to a good start. Competition is a lot tougher this year. Wait– You came to one of our games?” I ask when the realisation hits me. I’m sure I would have been able to recognise him out of a thousand clones, there’s no way he came to our game without me noticing.
“Yeah, me and a few of the guys went. It was a low-key thing. We didn’t want to spook you, so we kept it quiet,” he explains with a shrug. “If my memory is right, you were really good. And there was another guy. I think he was number ten. He was, like, a professional level player. Is he here?”
“Carter,” I whisper, the smallness of my voice catching me completely off guard. He remembers him. Josh Raymond remembers Carter. I clear my throat as Wren wraps her arm around my bicep, silently reminding me that she’s still there. “Yeah, that was Carter. He, uh, he got into an accident a few weeks after that game and he…”
“Oh, I’m sorry, man. Seriously. I only came to that game, but he was truly amazing,” Josh says, his eyebrows drawing together with sympathy as shakes his head lightly. I nod in appreciation. “It’s not easy to lose a teammate. How is your team doing?”
“We’ve all dealt with it in different ways but we’re getting back into it,” I explain, adjusting my collar which has suddenly got too tight. The lights in the room start to dim as the slow jazz music comes into play.
Not only is this an event for the sports students but it’s an opportunity for the faculty members to remind us about the old middle school dances we would have. I don’t know where this conversation with Josh is going to go but I want to find out. Wren pulls at my arm and my gaze drops down to her expectant eyes.
“We should dance,” she whispers into me. I tense at the way she slowly drags her nails from my bicep down to my hand where she interlocks her fingers into mine. She smirks at me, knowing it drives me insane.
“Yeah, in five minutes,” I whisper back, and she pouts, turning both of our attentions back to Josh.
“You guys should enjoy your night. I don’t want to keep you from having a good time,” Josh says uncertainly, tugging at the sleeve of his blazer. Wren looks up at me again, her blonde curls falling into her face before I brush them back.
“No,” I say quickly. “I wanted to ask you a few things, if that’s okay?”
“Yeah, if you’re sure,” he responds, looking between us. The music floats into a slow song and Wren squeezes my hand. I squeeze back but shake my head.
“No, it’s cool,” I say to Josh before dipping my head to Wren. She’s got her lip pulled between her teeth the way that makes all the senses heighten. “You should go and dance with your friends.”
“Fine,” she grits out. I know she’s pissed. She tells Josh it was a pleasure to meet him and she drops my hand with a tight smile. She turns around and struts off into the opposite direction, her ass hypnotising me as she walks away. I’m going to have to make up for that later. Josh’s voice brings me back to the conversation.
“I’d like to know more about your team and Carter – if you want to,” he asks, and I nod.
We float instantly into a light-hearted conversation as if we’re old friends. He tells me about his stories while playing for the Bears at NU and how it wasn’t easy for him to get to his position as captain. I tell him our game-day rituals. He walks me through his foolproof tactics and how to ensure a win. Talking to him about Carter feels so easy, like he gets him the way I do. It doesn’t feel like we talk about him as if he’s doesn’t exist.
We talk about him as if he’s in this room with us right now.
I don’t know how long we’ve been talking before I turn back to the crowd when the hundredth slow song plays. I scan the crowd and I spot Wren’s red dress.
I can only see her from the back, but it only takes a few seconds before I realise that her body is pressed against someone else’s.
No.
Nope.
Not happening.
