Page 19 of Jack Frosting

“Congrats! That’s great news! Wait…doesn’t Henry have a hockey game on Friday?”

“Shit, I think you’re right.”

I kept my eyes on the road, but could tell he was on his phone.

“You’re right.” He sounded so disappointed. “It’s the first game of the season.”

“I mean, he’ll understand. I can go if you want, and I’m sure the interview won’t take as long as the game.”

“You’d do that for me?” Clayton asked.

“I’d do that for you and for Henry.”

“That means a lot, thank you.”

I couldn’t help but feel just a little warm and fuzzy the rest of the ride home, and I was happy Clayton had an interview. He deserved it.

When we got home, Clayton said he was going into his office to start prepping for the interview, so I decided to stay in my sweatpants and relax in the living room.

I got sucked into Bob’s Burgers. By the time I realized how much time had passed, Henry was walking through the front door. After slamming it.

“Everything alright?” I called, hearing him pass behind me.

“I don’t wanna fucking talk about it.”

Whoa.

“Hey,” I said, launching myself off the couch, “I don’t think your dad would appreciate you talking like that.” I beat him to the stairs and blocked the way.

“Leave me alone.”

He was trying to avoid looking at me, so I did the only thing I could think of. I put my hands on his shoulders and hoped Clayton wouldn’t mind my interference.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

I knew that phrase. I said it more times than I could remember as a kid. Something went down and I didn’t want my parents or brothers to know about it, but I sure as shit should’ve talked about it. It was either something awkward or sensitive or both. I just had to be delicate.

“Well, let’s grab a Gatorade and see if you change your mind.”

“This isn’t going to work,” he said, but he let me guide him into the kitchen. I heard him drop his backpack on the table while I grabbed the drinks from the fridge.

“I hate to say it, Henry, but I’d rather you not leave this kitchen until you tell me something, though I can’t force you to say anything,” I said, putting the bottle in front of him. “I just want to help, and it can stay between us,” I added.

I hoped to God that was true. If it were something serious, I’d have to tell his dad. After downing half my bottle, I took a seat across from him, leaning back with my arms crossed and waited. There was no point in pushing.

Henry sighed and pushed the bottle around the table.

“My girlfriend broke up with me.”

I thought I’d have to wait longer and was thankful it was something simple.

“She…she said I wasn’t kissing her enough.”

Okay, so it wasn’t simple.

“To be honest, Henry, it’s hard to find the right balance with…kissing, even as an adult. Everybody has different…interests.”

Fuck, this is hard to talk about without getting explicit.