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“Of course, I will. See?” he asks with a smirk. “It’s easy to admit you have feelings. At least, it’s easy when you’re not afraid to talk about them.”
“Who said I was afraid? Maybe I’m just not as, you know, in touch with my emotions, or whatever.”
“Whoever was in charge of snacks really did a good job.” Ryder pauses on his way into the open, airy living room area. “Oh, wait. That was me.”
He sits down between us in a third chair facing the enormous flatscreen TV bolted to the wood paneled wall. I reach over to grab a handful of chips and a soda while Soren does the same. I’d love to spend the afternoon with a cold beer, but whiskey dick is a very real thing and considering this is our last opportunity to be with Harlow for a while, I want to make sure I’m not screwing myself over later on.
Will I miss this? What a thing to ask. Obviously, I’m going to miss this. I’ll miss her. The thread that connects us more thoroughly than hockey ever has. I don’t want to imagine how much it will suck to be apart – especially when nobody knows how long it’ll be before we’re together again.
Isn’t this a bitch? I’m getting what I wanted. This is my chance to show what I can really do. A shot at the big leagues. The opportunity to impress the right people, to make a lasting impression. This is what it’s all been for. All the training, all the work, the sacrifices over the years. It’s all for this.
I didn’t expect to feel this… torn.
It’s a little weird around Ryder right now, too. He’s been cool with the way things panned out. Cooler than I expected, even. He’s not exactly a guy who hides his feelings, let’s just put it that way. My heart sank a little when I found out he wouldn’t be coming along with us. He wants it, too – he wants it bad. And he’s come a long way, refining that raw talent he was apparently born with. It would be one thing seeing him in the locker room, training with him, all that, but this prolonged proximity adds another layer to the situation. I feel like I have to watch what I say around him, and I can tell Soren feels the same. He always gets this pinched, almost constipated look on his face whenever we talk about work.
He likes to act like he’s always easy-going, unaffected by feelings, shit like that. Maybe I know him better than he knows himself. He doesn’t want to rub it in Ryder’s face or anything, and even though I know a lot of it has to do with keeping our relationship with Harlow steady and drama free, he doesn’t want to make things any worse for the guy. After all, we were already friends before we got together with Harlow. All the jealousy and tension from the early days aside, I would like to keep it that way. I know Soren would, too.
Obviously, I’m not the only one thinking along these lines even after we get the game started again. “I don’t think I’m ready to go back tomorrow,” Ryder muses.
It’s a funny thing about video games like this. When you’re playing, it somehow makes it easier to open up and say the things you wouldn’t normally say if you were looking somebody in the face. With all of us focused on the screen, it’s easier to say what’s on our minds.
“I know,” Soren agrees. “It’s been pretty sweet, being out here. Not having to hide anything from anybody.”
“And that’s easier for her, too,” I add. It seems sort of funny talking about her while I’m blowing the heads off some fake enemies on the screen.
“I guess I’ll have to keep an eye on her while you guys are gone.” Ryder’s voice is even, maybe a little too much. Like he’s pretending to be lighthearted and joking about it when underneath there’s something deeper.
“So long as you keep your eye on her and your hands off her,” Soren warns. He, too, wants to make it sound like he’s joking when I don’t think he is.
“Let’s not even go there,” I decide. “We all know the rules. It’ll be fine.”
“It’s not myself I’m worried about.” Ryder looks my way, then at Soren. “I’m more worried about you guys.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Yeah,” Soren agrees with me. “I don’t think a couple of weeks is too much time to go without getting laid. Fuck, did I actually say that?”
“That’s not what I meant.” Ryder expertly fights his way out of an ambush situation, blowing the heads off a bunch of shuffling zombies. “I was talking about the temptation you’ll come up against out there.”
“What temptation?” I shouldn’t scoff, but I have to. “I never even thought about that.”
“It’s going to be all around you when you’re out there. I mean, we all know how it is already. Go to the bar after a game and there are going to be plenty of girls there who recognize a bunch of jocks when they see them, even if they don’t know the names or the faces.”
“That’s true,” Soren muses. “It’s like they’ve got a sixth sense.”
“Go out after the game with some of the guys up there and see how much worse it’ll get – or better, depending on how you look at it.”
“Stop trying to put shit in our heads,” I grumble. “It’s not going to work.”
“Work? Who said anything about me putting shit in your heads?” he asks, all innocent. “I’m just trying to make a point.”
“Well, you don’t need to,” I retort. “We’re not going to be tempted.”
“I sure as hell hope not, because if you fuck this up, I might have to kill you.” Like he’s trying to prove his point, he fires a few rounds in the game.
I see his point, and how he has a stake in things. I mean, when we made our arrangement, it was the four of us together. There’s no excuse for sneaking off without the three of us guys being present all at once. It’s the three of us with her, or it’s none of us.
Meaning, if one of us drops out, it could be the end of everything.
