Page 46 of Josh’s Play

Ethan raised his plastic red cup and signaled for everyone else to do so with his other hand.

“It was one hell of a game tonight, for all of us. But for this man right here”—he clapped Campbell on the back, and people started chanting, Cam, Cam, Cam—“for this fucking powerhouse of a goalie, it was one for the history books. To Cam!”

“To Cam,” we all shouted, and Cam looked my way before the team closed in on itself in a huge group hug. The guys were starting to get a little rough when someone shouted, “Check it out, Cam, you made TV!”

The group quieted down as the music stopped, and the volume was raised on the TV. Shot after shot of Campbell deflecting goals flashed on the screen. The party went wild, shouting and screaming and crowding in on Campbell. I stood in my corner and took it all in, and once the feature was over, Campbell looked over his shoulder to find me once more.

I gave him a careful smile and ignored Diane’s scoff as Cam took off in the opposite direction. I silently nodded to myself, disappointed that he hadn’t come my way but understanding just the same. Diane started to talk about the game, and Noah joined us, casually wrapping his arm around his girlfriend. I’d been to hundreds of college parties even before I was in college, and never once had I felt jealous or left out when partners showed affection in front of me. Usually, I was too busy clocking the room and trying to pick someone to hit on. But watching Noah sidle up to Diane was like watching a slow-motion scene unfold in a movie. I watched as their heads slowly turned to offer each other a soft smile; I stared as his arm wrapped around hers; and I even leaned into an invisible warm body as Diane leaned into Noah. I hoped to shake it off by trying to find the old Josh, the one who would look around the room to see what willing guy might be checking me out, but I realized with absolute finality that I had no interest and no intention of finding someone to fool around with. I hadn’t for months. In that moment, I knew I had to find a way to make things work with Campbell, while at the same time not messing things up for him. In the same slow-motion fashion, a ton of bricks landed on me as I finally gave in to my feelings.

Noah and Diane prattled on about the game, and I nodded politely while my world inverted and turned into something else entirely.

After a few minutes, Noah pointed at me. “What are you drinking?” He extricated himself from his girlfriend. “Beer?” All I could do was nod as Noah turned in time to see Campbell heading toward us, a red cup in one hand and the silly trophy mug in the other. My God, his smile. He was directing it at me, but I knew it was about the amazing night he’d had and his talk with the guy from the NHL.

My heart smiled back, but all I did was nod at him until he extended his arm and handed me the plastic cup. I could barely contain myself after that, but I reined it in before quietly saying, “Thanks,” and smiling into my cup instead.

Diane looked from one of us to the other before saying, “Come on, babe, mine’s getting warm.” She and Noah took off for the kitchen.

Campbell and I stood there sipping beer and looking at each other. I don’t know who started it, but before long, we were both laughing again.

“Good day, huh?” l’d meant it as a joke, but Cam didn’t answer right away.

“I remember the day my financial aid information came in. That was a pretty fucking awesome day.

“If today had just been an exceptional game, or the day I met the scout, or”—he leaned in close to whisper in my ear—“or the day a guy kissed me in the back hallway of the arena, any one of those would have been a really good fucking day. Today … today, Joshua Marchetti-Gordon? Today was a great day. An amazing day. The perfect day.” He was standing tall and speaking out loud, that ridiculous mug, which I would later learn was in the shape of the Stanley Cup, held high over his head in victory. “Today was an amazing day!” he shouted.

The crowd cheered, and he was surrounded by the team again. The beer never stood a chance in that silly mug, and Campbell emerged from the group hug with moisture weighing his hair down over one eye and the shoulder of his dress shirt soaking wet.

Laughing and yelling at his friends, Cam shoved the mostly empty cup into one of his teammate’s hands and pulled out his phone as he turned and walked away from us.

My phone vibrated in my pocket as Cam yelled, “Thanks a lot, assholes. Now I have to go clean up.”

“We may be assholes, but we’re the assholes who just won against the defending champs while playing with a future member of the NHL,” Ethan shouted out, and the cheering and mayhem that ensued drowned out my gasp as I read my message.

Finn: You remember how to get to my room?

I did my best to shrink into myself as I found my way to the stairs, clutching my cup of mostly gone beer as I slunk up to Campbell’s room. He was exiting it as I arrived, holding a towel.

“I’ve got the key. Lock the door.” Campbell was back to being part confident sports god and part awkward college kid as he looked shyly at me as we crossed paths in his doorway and turned to face each other once more. “I’ll just be a minute.”

Laughter from below had him nodding toward his door before turning and entering the bathroom. I did as he asked and closed myself in Campbell’s room.

I sat at Campbell desk, distractedly placing my cup near the edge. I pulled out my little notebook, which was almost full from all the writing I’d done before the game. I took in Campbell’s simple surroundings, the solid-gray comforter, the desk that held a few books neatly stacked, the laptop, the few framed photos, including one of a smiling Campbell and his smiling brothers.

I started writing again, scribbling frantically as I heard the door open behind me. The noise of the crowd was temporarily louder before quieting down again. I finished my thought and was talking before I’d even turned in my seat.

“I’m going to write an article about you. I was thinking …” I did turn then, and Campbell stood before me, a towel around his waist, the tiny key in his hand.

He was holding the towel up with one hand and waving the key at me with the other. The excited energy that had surrounded him all evening appeared to have turned nervous or even anxious.

“I practically dropped it three times. It’s like my hands don’t want to work. Didn’t you hear me knock?” I almost didn’t hear his question since I was too busy drooling at the site before me. Cam’s skin was flushed from the heat of the shower, from his shoulders to his pecs. Moisture dripped from his hair and down his chest, like he hadn’t taken the time to dry off before heading back to his room. His hair was slicked back as if he’d run his fingers through it, with just a bit of his bangs hanging forward near one eye.

He crossed the room and placed the key on the valet organizer on his dresser.

“Huh?” I said to his back. “Now I get it when my dad or my brother Vance are in the zone. You can be talking right to them, and they don’t hear a thing. Interesting. Sorry. Anyway, while you get dressed, let me tell you about this piece I’m writing.”

“Oh,” Cam said, disappointment clear in his voice. I turned in the chair, hoping I knew him well enough to read his face. Other than Devon, there wasn’t anyone I thought I could confidently read. I wanted more than anything to figure out what was stressing out Campbell.

“Ohhh,” I said in return, understanding blooming. I stood quickly, causing his desk to wobble. We both watched as my plastic cup teetered and thought about tipping over before righting itself. I could have easily reached out for it, but instead I just stared at it, foolishly mesmerized.