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That, it seemed, broke the dam. The rest of the team started talking about how to beat one of the Coyotes’ fiercest rivals, while I sat humped up eating some darn good goulash. This school had top-notch chefs. Nothing like the public school menus. Not that the food back at my old school was bad, but… well, it paled compared to the meals here. And that was all about the budgets, I totally got that, but my old school cafeteria made some killer pizza. So did Chesterford, but this place made pizza with spinach and olives and designer flatbread crusts, while my old school was straight up tons of cheese on thick doughy crust. I sure did miss that pizza.
“… of us when we get to Hershey?”
My attention flew from memories of old friends and chewy pizza crusts to the Coyotes. They were all staring at me. Crap. What had been said?
I swallowed my mouthful of noodle, then tried to say something smart. “Just be yourselves. This is a photo journal of the real world of scholastic ice hockey. Don’t mug or anything, just do what you normally do, and I’ll be right there to capture it.”
Tyler got to his feet, his face pinched, and picked up his tray of half-eaten food. The others at the table stared at him in confusion.
“I have some work to do in the library,” Tyler said, then left, dumping his food into the trash before hurrying through the cafeteria doors. I stared at him until he was gone from sight, the swinging doors making the social events posters pinned to a large corkboard on the wall flutter. My gaze went to the rest of the hockey players. They were all trying not to look upset, but the vibe at the table was decidedly shitty now.
“I should go, too,” I said, rising to my sneakers.
“No, hey, man, sit,” Soren said, appealing to the others at our table. “Tyler is just feeling off the past week or so. Sit, seriously, dude, it’s all good.”
The guys mumbled along, but I could feel the weirdness. Still, I sat back down, forcing the food into my mouth, as one by one, the group finished eating, then headed off to classes.
“Sorry, man, they’re all wound up. This is a big game, and the locker room is cranky. But, in a way, I’m glad we have time to talk.” Soren swung sideways in his seat as the cafeteria emptied slowly around us. The bell would ring in about five minutes to call us to our afternoon classes, mine being biology and my sole AP class, African American Studies. “So, part of the reason I wanted to have you here, other than you being part of the team now and trying to fix things with Tyler, was to talk to you about Felix.”
That got my attention. “What about him?”
“Well, Felix is part of the issue with Tyler, and you…”
“And I’m the other.” Not a question, just a statement of fact.
Soren shrugged. “Yeah, you are. And while I’m still pissed at how you acted; this BS needs to be resolved. It’s affecting team morale, it’s messing with Tyler’s head, and it’s making Felix act like some sort of moronic bodyguard. Tyler is a sensitive soul. He takes things to heart more than any other person that I’ve ever known. Which is cool and makes him unique, but the two of you circling around him like sharks has got to be freaking him out.”
“You want me to drop my project?”
“No, totally not.” He lifted both hands for emphasis. “I love your idea. What I’d like you to do, if you’re willing, is to just talk to him like he’s not breakable. I’ve already got it in my head to tell Felix to back the fuck off and let Tyler breathe.”
“You want me to leave Tyler alone?” I was confused and felt like a turd. A bigger turd.
“No, I just wanted to float the idea of not looking at him like he brings you great sorrow every time you peep his way. Maybe try talking to him, instead of apologizing all the time.”
“But I need to make him see that I’m sorry.”
“He will. If you let him absorb the changes. I mean, you can tell someone that you’ve changed a thousand times, but that person has toseethe changes. So just be you, give him space, treat him like the great guy he is, and he’ll come around. And yes, Felix is going to get the same talk when he’s not stoned.”
The first bell rang. Chairs skidded across the tile floors as the lingerers stood.
“Okay, yeah, I can just be me. Give him space.” I wasn’t sure how not interacting with Tyler would show him I was sincere, but I was willing to give it a try. What I was doing now—long looks of great sorrow and regret—sure wasn’t doing it. “If you talk to him, tell him that I really am sorry and I really am trying to be a good person.”
“I think he knows that. You’ve said it often enough. Only good people care about the feelings of others. We all do stupid shit. Only the kind people try to make up for the stupid.” He tapped my bicep with the side of his fist, then got to his feet. “Got to run. If I’m late for gym, Mr. Dalano will make me run extra laps around the gym, and I need to conserve that leg power for skating. See you at practice!”
I nodded at him. He gave me a stare, grabbed his tray, and took off for the side door that led to the gymnasium. I sat there for a long moment, staring at my alien eggs in a cup, unsure of what kind of cool, yet caring, tact I could try with Tyler.
Maybe try dropping the tact and just be a nice guy. Let’s try that.
Okay, yeah, we could go with that. Soon as I figured out how.
ChapterFour
Tyler
I headed straightfor the library—away from Jonah and his hesitant smile, and the way he looked at me.
When he’d started at the school, I remembered thinking he was cute. A scholarship kid, he’d been a fish out of water, and he’d seemed shy. I had a feeling for him, just the one, a kind of protective wanna-be-friends kind of feeling, but nothing had come of it.
