Page 66 of Josh’s Play

Finally, Campbell dropped my gaze, his eyes hitting the ice. The music had switched again. We were back to a peppy pop tune from my middle school years. Despite the energetic exuberance of the song, it was easier to tune out than those pleas to have a little faith had been.

“I know nothing’s changed …”

Campbell paused, and I jumped in. “That’s a huge change. I’m really proud of you. I’m sorry if it didn’t go well.”

He sounded a little confused. “No, it did go well with my parents. I meant, I know nothing’s changed between us. So I guess … I guess I did all of this”—he waved his hand—“just to let you know …” He took a deep breath and heaved a huge sigh. Our surroundings had gotten darker, and though the hanging lights provided a soft glow, I couldn’t see the brown of his eyes anymore. I had to go with the images that were emblazoned in my mind.

The tenderness of his face and his tone were harder to miss as he continued. “I did all of this, selfishly,” he added, “because I needed to let you know how I felt.” He looked down and muttered, “Feel.” He didn’t continue, and I longed to make it better. I didn’t let my confusion over our conversation to that point stop me in that.

I began to skate forward, moving more toward the center of the pond so that I wasn’t skating directly toward him. He swung around and joined me. Hopefully, both of us facing forward would make the conversation go more smoothly.

“Now that the sun’s set, it’s too cold to stand still.”

“I used to go out at night, around sunset, after the evening chores were done, and skate around our little pond on the farm. I’d almost forgotten that. Mom or Dad would watch me from the kitchen window. I couldn’t do it every night, because some nights one of my chores was to help clean up after dinner. Huh.” I could tell Campbell was reliving the memory.

He sighed in remembrance at the same time I sighed, preparing myself for what I was about to say.

“I never want to be a distraction for you, Cam. Would it … are you … are you asking us to go back to the way it was? Would that help with your game if we went back to …” Why couldn’t I just say fooling around? There were a million names for it. Fuck buddies, friends with benefits, booty calls. If it’s what he wanted me to be, I would do it for him. So why couldn’t I say it?

“That’s not what I want.”

Okay, well, that was that. “Then I return to my original question: what are we doing out here, Cam?” As we skated in concentric circles, nearing the center of the pond with each pass, it put us further from the dancing lights and deeper into darkness. Even if I’d snuck a glance at his face, I doubted I’d be able to read it.

He took another deep breath, then spit his words out rapid-fire, his feet picking up pace as he said them, like he was running away from me. I worked my much shorter, much less experienced legs hard in an effort to keep up.

“I wanted to tell you how I feel! But it’s not fair. Because I know it’s not what you want. And I don’t want you to compromise yourself! I would never ask that. Not for my game, which I don’t give a fuck about, and not for my heart, which isn’t your problem. I’m being selfish and stupid. Diane told me people change, but I don’t want you to change, Josh! I just want you to want me, and that’s a fucking contradiction.”

I’d kept up enough to hear every word, but I wouldn’t be able to continue as he raced around the pond. “Cam!” He stopped immediately, held his back to me for a few beats, then turned around.

“What do you mean, you don’t give a fuck about the game?”

“I just meant, that’s not for you to fix. None of this is for you to fix.” He took another deep breath. “I like you, Josh. A lot. And it was selfish of me to think you needed to hear that. To think that might make it better. To think …”

My heart was racing, and I knew it wasn't from the workout our sprint around the ice had caused.

“To think I might want you too?” My voice broke at the end, and my heart hammered. I closed my eyes and imagined his doing the same. I knew him, I reminded myself. I could tell how he was feeling. He wanted me. I’d known that. But was it possible that wanting me wasn’t the distraction?

He shook his head no as I skated toward him. I would have to convince him. “I’ve missed you, Campbell. I think about you all the time.”

“No, Josh. We want different things.”

“Do we, Cam?” I stopped in front of him, straining in the darkness to see him, to really see him and to implore him to see me.

“Because I want you too. And I know you said you don’t care about your game, but I do, and I don’t want to do anything to mess that up. I never wanted to be your distraction.”

We were inches apart. I could see his expression then, all of it, including those eyes that could never lie to me. “Oh, but you have been, Joshua Marchetti-Gordon. From the moment I laid eyes on you, you have been my distraction.” He took one more deep breath. “I’ve been falling for you since that day, and I want to be with you. I know you’re probably back to hooking up, or whatever, and I don’t expect you to change that for me, so I don’t even really know what I’m asking. Maybe we can go back to being friends?”

I couldn’t help but scoff at that, and my hand moved quickly to caress his cheek so he wouldn’t think I was rejecting him. “I don’t want to be your friend, Finn, and I don’t want to be with anyone else. If you can promise me, promise me I won’t be a distraction, then all I want is to be with you.”

He was shaking his head no again, and I felt I’d gone too far. “I can’t come out of the closet. My parents …”

I hated to think that his parents were forcing him to stay in the closet to play hockey, but I understood how difficult it would be to be out as a professional sports figure. It was something I had been thinking a lot about between Cam and Hunter, and something I had been researching over the break. Cam’s family might not be handling it well, but I hoped that when it was Hunter’s turn to go pro, he’d have an easier time. I wasn’t so naive as to think he’d have an easy time, I just hoped for easier.

I dropped my hand from his face and held his hand, leading us back into a leisurely skate despite the continuance of the bubble-gum music.

“We can do this, Cam, be together. We can be in the closet. You can live your dream.” He stopped us once more. “I have faith in us, Campbell Ryan. I just need you to have a little faith too.”

Effortlessly, he swung himself around, never letting go of my hand as he skated to a stop, pulling me to him, our bodies flush, his other hand wrapping around my waist.