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His lips twitch into the closest thing they get to a smile. “Does that mean that he’ll come back to practice, sometimes?”
“He might, yes. I’ve been keeping him abreast of your progress this season, and he watches our games when he can.”
Carter brightens, the shadows of his face letting a little bit of sun peek through. “Cool.” He replies, succinctly. Chewing his lip, he settles back into silence while I wait him out. I don’t think he’s quite gotten to the point of this visit yet.
“I’m kind of like that, too, you know?” He says, sitting up straighter and eyeing me a touch more aggressively.
“Like what, Carter?”
“Like Tony. I like girls and all, but…” He’s moved to the edge of the seat and his hands are clenched on his thighs. Hewrestles with the words for a moment before spitting them out violently. “But I prefer guys.”
I’m not sure Anthony prefers guys overall, but this isn’t the time nor the place to correct him. Calmly, I watch as Carter half-deflates as though the words were taking up a large residence in his chest. The look in his eyes is a little bit timid; it’s possible he’s never admitted that out loud before.
“That’s alright,” I tell him, because it is.
“My parents wouldn’t think so.”
No, I imagine they wouldn’t. Not from what I’ve heard about them.“You haven’t told them?”
“No. Nobody but you. And the guys I’ve fucked, I guess.”
“Carter,” I warn, and something of his usual defiance dances back across his face. If he ever makes it to the NHL, they’d do well to keep him away from microphones and cameras. God only knows what he’d say during an intermission interview.
“I think…I might tell Vas, though. He’d be cool with it.” His eyes flash to mine and away again. “Right?”
There is a tremor of fear underlying the question, like he’s wondering how far he can trust his one, and probably only, friend. Martin Tremblay’s face floats to the front of my subconscious and I wrestle him back.
“I think so.” And I do. The team knew about Anthony and I, and Vasel hasn’t once looked at me askance. Of course, he could just be hiding bigotry behind manners, but I prefer to think well of him. “But you probably know him better than I do, Carter.”
“Yeah, maybe.” He slumps, slightly, spine curving against the hard back of the chair. “My dad bought me a house.”
I blink at the sudden change in conversation. “What?”
“A house. My dad bought me a house. He says I shouldn’t have to live in the dorms and that I’ll be able to focus on my studies more if I’m on my own.”
“Oh.” I might have to agree to disagree with his dad on that one—no eighteen-year-old kid would be better on their own. Certainly not this one, who is so starved for human interaction he’s as prickly as a cactus.
“It’s fucking stupid,” he tells me, and I bite my lip to keep from agreeing.
“Maybe you could get a roommate,” I suggest.
“Nobody will want to live with me.”
This is probably true, but I keep it to myself. “Well, you could try.”
“Are you and Tony going to live together?”
I’m going to get whiplash from this conversation. I give him a hard look. “Is that your business?”
“Sorry, Coach.” He stands, reaching down to grab his backpack and sling it over his shoulder. He walks to the door, pauses, and turns back around. There’s a look on his face I can’t identify—something between wonder and misery. “It’s pretty cool, you know? Two queer players in the NHL?”
“Yeah, it is.” I smile at him and he does his best to return it before heading out the door. Checking my phone, I see a text from Anthony saying he’ll pick me up whenever I’m done for the day. Sliding my work into my bag, I power down the computer and text him back.I’m done, I tell him, before exiting the office and starting toward home to pack a bag.
He’s at my door an hour later, knocking in a perfunctory way before letting himself inside. I’m upstairs, putting a few clothes and toiletries together, when I hear him call out.
“Up here,” I respond, and listen to his footfalls get louder as he comes up the stairs.
I turn when I sense him in the doorway. Nine days since we’ve seen each other, and the last time we were together I still wasn’t feeling my best. Judging by the expression on his face, I must be looking a lot better this time around.
