Page 31 of Line Change

I step over the threshold. “Thanks for having me.”

Fraser looks at me again. “Sure.”

Someone calls his name from the living room, and he turns away.

The apology is going to have to wait.

Fraser’s apartment is already full. The couch and mismatched chairs are taken, so guys sit on the floor or lean against the walls. Records are stacked beside a turntable under the front window, although tonight the music is coming from speakers connected to somebody’s phone. A bike hangs on the far wall, and another blocks half the hallway beside a guitar case.

The couch cushions sag, and the floor beneath the guitar case is scuffed.

Nobody stares at me when I enter. Caleb lifts his beer in greeting. Anton tells Bobby he’s already lost twice and should save himself the pain. Two younger guys make room near the television, then go back to arguing over controllers.

Apparently the neon sign is only in my head.

Fraser moves through the room carrying bowls, changing the music, and taking shit from three conversations at once. His shirt sleeves end high on his arms. The ink I licked in Arizona disappears beneath black cotton at his shoulder.

He catches me looking, and this time I hold his gaze.

For one second his mouth tightens. Then he points toward the television. “Your line needs a fourth.”

I sit down before wanting him becomes visible to somebody with better instincts than Bobby.

The game is a four-player racing game that Anton claims requires strategy. It mostly requires ramming the car beside yours whenever it tries to pass. Bobby does that to me twice. The second time, Haugen throws a couch cushion at his head without taking his eyes off the screen.

“You’re dead,” Bobby tells him.

“You’re in last place,” Haugen says. “Worry about yourself.”

Haugen wins the race. He’s wedged into the corner of the couch with enough room that nobody can bump him, wearing a smug grin as Bobby puts his controller down.

“Nara says I might get back on skates next week,” he says when one of the younger guys asks. “If the next check goes well.”

Bobby stops reaching for the cushion. “She said might?”

“That’s what I just said.”

“Yesterday you said you would.”

Haugen hands his controller to Caleb. “Yesterday you were annoying me, and I wanted you to go away.”

The room laughs. Bobby does too, but his attention stays on Haugen as he gets up and heads toward the kitchen.

He moves carefully. The rest of us let him cross the room, but Bobby makes it three seconds.

“What do you need?” he asks.

Haugen doesn’t stop. “For you to sit down.”

Bobby sits.

I take the controller Caleb offers me and lose the next race because Fraser walks behind the television carrying a stack of plates. My car goes straight into a wall. Anton asks whether I need the rules explained again, and I tell him to shut up.

I play three more races, then a fighting game I haven’t touched since juniors. Food appears from the kitchen and disappears just as fast. Fraser sits on the arm of the couch long enough to finish half a beer, but Caleb is talking to him about the next home stand. When Caleb leaves, Bobby takes his place. Later, I follow Fraser toward the kitchen and find four other people already in there.

He looks at me over an open cabinet. “You need something?”

An apology in front of a backup goalie and two defensemen isn’t happening. “Water.”