His patience would have made him a saint in a different life, but Harrison had shut that abusive shit down the moment he realized what was happening. The day he finally opened his door to Arlo and let him in was the last day anyone hurt him. Harrison had blown up the family over it, another reason why everyone kept their distance now, because he wasn’t going to stand back and watch someone suffer no matter how fucked-up he was after the accident.
Arlo’s parents had disowned him shortly after, and no one fucking cared. Arlo was thriving in his independence, and Harrison kept him playing hockey no matter what. School had been put on the back burner after seeing Arlo’s skates touch the ice in that first game. He had been coaching him ever since, supporting him like his parents should have been doing.
Who cared if Arlo was gay? He was athletically gifted, and Harrison knew the Townsends would come crawling back when Arlo got drafted in the NHL.
They could stomach his sexuality as long as he was a millionaire.
Not going to happen.
Harrison’s parents were useless while everything was happening too. His dad and Arlo’s mom were siblings, and when Harrison called his father to ask for advice, he received no support, and then radio silence. It was anot their kid, not their problemkind of vibe, and that had been the moment he learned how cold his mother and father could be to anyone they didn’t deem worthy.
His father commented about wanting to stay neutral, and it occurred to him later that staying neutral was, in fact, his way of choosing a side.
Harrison reached over and placed his hand on Arlo’s chair, halting the kid’s sniggering with a serious expression.
“What?” Arlo frowned, his eyes darting over Harrison’s face as he tried to spot the problem. “What’s wrong?”
Harrison shook his head. “You’re still too fucking nice.”
And then he yanked the lounger up, effectively dumping Arlo out of it and into the water.
Arlo hollered as he crashed into the lake, the splash soaking Harrison, who was too busy laughing to care. It was worth changing clothes, especially when Arlo popped his head out of the water, coughing and sputtering while scrambling back onto the dock.
“Dude! There are leeches in here!”
Harrison laughed harder and took his shirt off, wiping the water off his face. “Oh fuck, better get out of there before one suctions itself to your dick.”
“Fucking—” another splash indicated that Arlo had tried and failed to get out of the water, “—going to kill you!”
“I’m shaking in my shorts over here,” said Harrison, not offering to help as Arlo finally pulled himself to safety.
“You suck!” Arlo glared, looking pathetic as he stood there dripping wet. The sight only made Harrison laugh more.
“Occasionally,” said Harrison between chuckles, wiping the tears out of his eyes.
“Fucking dickhead.” Arlo flipped him off and walked around him, water trailing behind as he marched back to the house.
“Don’t get water on my hardwood floors!” Harrison called after him, laughing again when Arlo strung a bunch of curse words together that didn’t make sense.
There. Now they were even for the Fraser incident.
Harrison let himself sink into the pillowtop lounger, their conversation repeating in his head while he stared at the branches and the sky above.
What the fuck was he going to do?
Jett
“Last game,” said Mike, clapping Jett on the back hard enough to make him wince.
Fuck, he couldn’t wait to be done so he could get away from him.
“Yeah, I’m sad it’s ending,” said Jett, forcing himself to smile.
That was a lie.
As much as he enjoyed playing hockey, it was starting to feel more like a chore with every passing day he spent in Mike’s presence. He was never doing this again, not because he didn’t like anyone there, but because everything felt too forced.
It was obvious that Townsend was holding back so Jett could win, and he was the only guy playing on his level. It made it boring and passionless, but Jett had a feeling that Townsend didn’t want to listen to Mike bitching about losing either, so he was sacrificing his own game to keep the peace.
