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But that never happened again.
“Things will be different,” I vow, toweling off and redressing. My clothes stick to the wet outline of my swimsuit, but the sun is bright and warm on my skin as I head back to my car. I turn my face toward the golden light through my window and crank my music louder.
I breathe in deep.
Chapter 4
THEN: Freshman Year, August
Bennett
“It’s a little small, right?”
Max Koteskiy’s laugh is as booming loud and animated as the smile on his face. I can’t stop my slight flinch at the sudden sound, only settling when my dad sets a heavy hand on my shoulder.
“Of course it’s small. It’s a dorm.”
“It’s an athletics dorm, Max,” my dad snips back, but his tone stays quiet and calm. “I just feel like it’s too small.”
For me, he means, because I need the space. This is where I should say that it’s fine. “It’s only a year before we move into the house.” But it’s not really fine for me. I can’t force the words out, even to help my dad.
Rhys opens the door again, his arms full of boxes and his smile wide and identical to his father’s, dimples gleaming. I relax slightly.
Rhys Koteskiy has been my best friend since literal birth—the proof lives on my dad’s desk in a photo of him and Max holding each of us as babies in the hospital, with Anna Koteskiy in the background giving a thumbs-up and a cheery, tearful smile from her hospital bed. Since then, we’ve been inseparable. Even through the more difficult years for me and my family, Rhys never faltered in our friendship. Just like his dad never gave up on mine.
Our dads might’ve masterminded the origins of our friendship, but what we built beyond that was just ours. If we were always going to be a package deal, I am thankful to call the other half my best friend.
“Bennett?”
No one can help if you don’t verbalize what’s wrong.
I shake my head. “It’s—the bathroom thing. Sorry, Rhys.”
My best friend only smiles and shakes his head. “Not a big deal, Ben. Just want you to feel comfortable.” He sets his load of cardboard onto the floor in front of him, looking toward my dad. “They’ve got six townhouse-style dorms that are technically on campus. So, we wouldn’t be breaking Coach’s rules. Think you can work your ‘I’m a Reiner’ magic?”
Dad laughs and nods, slipping his phone out of his pocket and squeezing my shoulder hard as he walks back outside the dorm, followed by Rhys’s dad.
Our new roommate stumbles in right after, blond hair sweat damp and breath heaving as he slams down what looks to be everything he owns. My anxiety skyrockets and I want to demand he grab it and take it back outside or into the room that I know we aren’t staying in. Matt Fredderic and I haven’t known each other long, but it’s clear mess and chaos follow wherever he goes, which would be hard enough on its own. However, he and Rhys are already becoming fast friends.
You knew this was coming. Rhys has always been the easy friend, the one everyone wants to be or be friends with. He will outgrow you.
Rhys shakes his head at the messy left winger, but there’s a smile on his face. “Don’t get settled. We’re getting an upgrade.”
“Upgrade?” Freddy’s brow crinkles. He wanted to be called Matty, and I would’ve obliged, but Rhys called him Freddy just like the upperclassmen all summer at our training camp. And when in doubt, it’s easier to follow Rhys’s lead.
“Yeah.” Rhys slaps a hand on Freddy’s shoulder with friendly ease. “Pays to be a Koteskiy sometimes.”
And just like that, my best friend deflects the attention off me, like always.
“All good,” my dad says as he re-enters the room with Max close on his heels. They’re like two pillars of constant strength. “Ready, Ben?”
“Yeah,” I nod, grabbing my bag and two boxes—both heavy and filled with too many books—before following him out and back down the stairs, shoulders tight.
He waits until we’re in the car again before turning to me. “If it’s not okay, you have to tell me.”
People say we look alike; they always have. Same brown hair with a few honeyed strands dancing and weaving, all soft gentle curls. Same blue eyes, same startling height and build, same dark furrowing brows that made us a little more unapproachable when standing next to the Koteskiy men. But besides the looks, we aren’t the same.
Even with as much as he tries, he doesn’t really understand.
