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“Avery had a lot to say in his resignation letter, and none of it was very flattering.Thattook a lot of explaining. Fortunately, there was little fanfare around Hill being cut from the team. A room full of witnesses helped and the Dean has made his stance on homophobia very clear.” Nico inhales, long and deep. “Morgan is another story. Three game suspension, once the regular season starts, which is understandable if unlucky for us. Unfortunately, Brock Hill’s parents are making noise about filing criminal charges for assault.”
I scoff, but Nico grimaces and rubs a finger idly across the scar that bisects his eyebrow. “I’m not surprised, to be honest. Morgan had him on his back and was doing his best to pound his face in. I don’t suppose his pedigree is helping matters, either. They know his parents have money, and that they’ll likely pay up to make this go away," he tells me.
“So, what does that mean? Will he lose his spot on the team?”
“No, I don’t think it will get that far. The Dean is trying to talk Hill’s parents out of any further action, so hopefully that will be that.”
“I hope so, for Morgan’s sake. He’s a strangely likable kid.”
Nico chuckles. “He’s grown on me. Better get used to him, I suppose, seeing as I have him for another few years.”
He gets up, dropping his hand away from his scar and reaching for the empty food containers. Only two days left of summer training remain, which means our time together has to evolve or be finished. I know which one I’m hoping for. I’d like to ask Nico which side of that line he’s leaning toward.
“Hey, Nico?”
“Mm?” He looks over at me, eyes squinted and mouth turned down in his perpetual frown.
“Only two days of summer camp left, right?” I ask, carefully. He straightens, already knowing where I’m going with this. I don’t want to add more weight to his shoulders, but we’ve run out of time.
“Yes, that’s right.” He’s got one hand flat on the counter, fingers pressed down so hard I can see the strain. “I suppose we’d better figure out where we go from here.”
He doesn’t sound thrilled; the feeling is mutual. Nico heads for the living room and I follow in silence. A sick feeling of dread sits heavy in my stomach. The tension thrums between us, with the unspoken words making their presence known before they’ve even been given life. I have a sudden and intense desire to be back in Corwin’s sun-drenched backyard, playing a ridiculous game of croquet with my friends. This feels like a goodbye, and we haven’t even begun.
“I wish I hadn’t eaten so much food,” Nico says, sitting down and cracking a small smile at me. It doesn’t meet his eyes, but I appreciate the effort. I sit next to him and turn to the side so I can face him; close enough that I can still reach out andtouch him, which I do by resting a hand on his leg. I’d like to pull him into my lap, but that probably wouldn’t be conducive to a serious conversation.
“I know what you mean.” Mexican probably wasn’t the wisest choice. If this goes the way I fear, I might be puking up refried beans in the bushes out front.
“Well, this won’t get any easier, the longer we put it off,” he says, trying for humor again. I wait, watching him nervously. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to go first? Tell me what you think.”
Hell yeah, I’ll go first.“I think we should stay together. Actually together, though, not this shit where we hookup and pretend it’s nothing more. I think we should get rid of your rules, because I want to fucking kiss you and I want to spend the entire night together. There are a couple other things I want, too, but we can start with that.”
“I want those things, too,” Nico says, and I swear to god my heart nearly stops. “But, Anthony—."
“No, don’tbut, Anthonyme. We both want the same thing and we can have it.”
“Nothing is that simple.”
“Itisthat simple, Nico! You’re the one making this hard.” My voice has risen a couple octaves, and I struggle to bring it back down. I want to have a conversation with him, not a shouting match. “Give me one good reason why this won’t work.”
“Are you so eager to become a part of the media circus surrounding your friend? Your team? Look what’s already come of it, and you don’t even know what the regular season will bring.”
“I’m already a part of it. And since when do I give a shit what the media says about me?”
“You care about what they’re saying about Troy,” Nico points out, fairly. Annoyed, I blow out a hard breath.
“This is stupid, you can’t break up with me for something thatmighthappen.”
“I can’t break up with you at all, because we’re not together.”
The words feel like a slap. “Right. And we’re not together because you’re protecting me from faceless people on the internet who have nothing better to do than complain about who I fuck.”
“You, and also myself,” Nico responds, voice quiet. “I’ve done this before, and I’ve got no interest in being paraded out in front of the world again. You might be okay with being the center of attention as hockey’s newest queer, but I’m not.”
“’Paraded out’? What do you mean?”
He laughs, a short, sharp, and joyless sound. “You’ve never Googled me, have you? There are dozens of videos of the altercation with Martin posted online; dozens of videos of me being dragged from the ice and leaving a bloody trail behind. Hundreds of articles speculating about what happened, and hundreds more speculating about the brutality of the sport and whether things need to change. Reporters were showing up at the hospital, begging at the nurse’s station for a few minutes of time to interview me. I’m not doing that again, Anthony. I’m sorry, but I won’t.”
I open my mouth to interrupt, but he holds up a hand to waylay me. “You’re a big star around here. Bigger than Troy? Maybe not. But the outcome would be the same, and you know I’m right. Two players come out on the same team, and one of them is dating Nico Mackenzie. Time to trot out the tragedy.”
