Page 59 of Josh’s Play

“I could have handled it better,” he confessed. “Last week, after you stayed over, I panicked. I figured you wouldn’t mind too much if I took a step back. I’m not a hookup guy, but you are.” He whispered the next part as if it was difficult to say. “I guess I just figured you wouldn’t miss me too much. But still, I shouldn’t have ghosted you.”

“You didn’t.” I sounded pathetic. “You came back,” I said hopefully.

“It’s just, I like talking with you. So much. And I like being with you. So much.” I could see the stress his words were causing him, and I knew what that meant for him and his game. He ran his fingers through his hair, and that was the final tell.

I had to let him go. I knew in that moment that I had to walk away. My heart felt like it was about to explode from my chest; like it was fighting to make its way across my crappy dorm room and wrap itself around his. I watched him worry his hair while I thought of the right thing to say. Something about our stupid project. Something about staying friends, something about always remembering him, something about becoming a Buffalo Blizzard fan. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

Cam opened his at the same time and asked, “Who was the guy?”

“At the party? Do you mean my roommate? That was just Devon.”

“No. Not him. The guy you walked in with. With the hat,” he muttered.

I racked my brain and finally realized what Campbell must have seen. Vance and me, walking in arm in arm.

I chuckled, happy to clear up his confusion, speaking quickly when my laugh caused a furrow in Cam’s brow. “I told you I have a million brothers. That was Vance. He’s not much for parties. I still don’t know how my sister talked him into coming with us. When we got there? That was just me dragging him in, making sure he didn’t turn around and head right back home.”

“Oh.” Campbell laughed as well but it was strained, not free and happy. I ached. Because I wanted to be the one to make him laugh with abandon, but I knew I was the reason he wasn’t. “Not a date then?” he said softly, sounding sad.

“No, not a date.” My tone matched his, but I tried for a more neutral one when I blurted, “Our project is due in two weeks.” It was as good a place to start as any, providing as it did, a concrete deadline.

“I know.”

“I think … I mean. I want us to be friends, Cam. But you’re right. You’re not into hookups, and this was just a hookup.” I wanted to take the words back as I was saying them. My heart screamed lies, lies, lies so loudly that I was surprised Cam couldn’t hear it.

I focused my thoughts and my breaking heart on Cam, remembering him dancing on the ice in front of his goal, exuding that complex mix of focus and abandon.

I stood with purpose, walking over to kiss his cheek. “We can finish up the project by emailing back and forth. I’m almost done editing episode five; we just need to review everything we’ve got and decide what episode six should be. Think about it and let me know. Okay? We probably have enough stuff recorded, or we can meet online or something.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

He stood but didn’t move for a minute. I could see a million thoughts running over his face, all of them a distraction from what he needed to be thinking about. He said none of them, instead nodding in determination and heading for the door.

“Oh, and Cam?”

“Yes.” His hand was on the knob, and he turned to look at me.

“Have a good game next week.” His entire face collapsed when he understood what I was saying, that for the first time this season, I wouldn’t be there for a Badgers home game. He nodded again and left.

He guided the door closed so it wouldn’t slam. “Goodbye, my prince,” I said, knowing I’d done the right thing, even when it hurt so much.

I stayed in the dorm room for a while, tears rolling down my face as I cursed the closet and the NHL and his possibly ignorant parents. I blamed all of those things for taking Campbell from me. If it hadn’t been for them, I could have told him the truth. Confessed that I’d left the hookup scene behind the day I met him. That I’d left it behind for him.

I imagined being with him, coming clean to Devon instead of pretending I was still wearing a rut in the Guys4Guys app. Walking hand in hand through the forest to introduce him to my parents and inviting him to their holiday party to meet my brothers and sister. Watching him circle the ice with Vera’s tiny hand in his huge one. The thoughts made me smile even as the pain in my chest tightened.

I walked around campus for a while and eventually got a coffee at Arise. The new barista was cute, but I didn’t care.

I made it back to my parents’ house and ran into Devon in the foyer, looking flushed. I felt really guilty for leaving him and opened my mouth to apologize, but the empathetic look of concern on his face at seeing me, dejected and tearstained, had me saying, “I don’t want to talk about it,” instead.

“Fair enough,” Devon replied. I started talking anyway.

“I should have stuck to our whole playing-the-field, one-night-stand motto. It’s worked for us for the last three years. Nothing wrong with having fun in college, right?”

Devon looked utterly shocked at my confession, and I felt like I was letting him down by not having shared with him what was going on with me or maybe for changing my ways, like I’d become some different person behind his back.

“Holy shit, dude. You really care about him, don’t you?”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t fucking matter, does it?” I felt the tears bubbling up again, so I changed the subject, asking Devon if he was up for hanging out with my family that night. I would have understood if he’d rather go out, but I told him I was going to hang out at home. Devon seemed eager for more Marchetti-Gordon family-fun time, so we stayed in that evening.