Bella had a giant duffel on one shoulder and a box under her arm, so I scooped the duffel off her shoulder as we walked along.
She gave me a smile. “Aren’t you the gentleman?”
“Once in awhile. When it suits me.”
“What are you up to today?”
“I have to hit the library for a couple of hours. You?”
“Team errands. Can I pawn one off on you? It’s on your way.”
“Sure?”
She stopped and beckoned for the duffel I was carrying. Unzipping it, Bella pulled out a newHarkness Hockeyjacket in its plastic wrapper. “Can you drop this off? It’s Rikker’s. He lives in McHerrin.”
Aw, Christ. “We don’t know if he’s home, though,” I said. “Why don’t you give me a different errand. I don’t want to carry that around all day if he’s out.”
She pressed the jacket into my chest. “I just texted him from the dining hall, and he’s there. He even propped the outside open for me. It will take you two minutes. He’s in the first entryway on the left, third floor.”
Damn. It. I couldn’t think of a decent reason to turn her down. “Okay.”
“You’re the best. See you at practice tonight.” She hefted her duffel again, which was now not quite so large.
She walked away without a backward glance, having no idea what she’d just asked me to do.
Even though Rikker and I had cleared the air in Boston, we weren’t pals. When I’d walked out of that hotel room after our crazy-ass conversation, I was shaking like a leaf. A few laps on foot around Boston had helped.
But I knew I couldn’t stay in that hotel room with Rikker. Talking to him had stirred up a lot of raw memories for me. I couldn’t lay there in the dark, listening to him breathe, and re-live the sound of pounding feet in that alley where we’d been attacked. “Cocksuckers!” they’d yelled. “Faggots!”
It used to be that when I closed my eyes, the voices were always right there, waiting for me. Along with the sound of their laughter. And the heavy thud of Rikker’s body hitting the ground when he’d tripped.
Once in a while I still heard that sound in my dreams.
“Get the other one!” someone had shouted. I’d switched into survival mode, and I just ran. Even after I’d gotten away, I kept running. I ran a mile in the wrong direction. When I’d stopped, the streets were unfamiliar. On shaking legs, I’d found a city bus stop. But I wasn’t that familiar with the bus system. It took me a couple of hours to get home. I was so freaked out when I finally got home that I might have broken down, telling my parents everything. But the house was empty. There was a note from my Mom on the perfectly clean kitchen counter telling me that she and my father had gone to walk around the sculpture garden.
While I’d left Rikker all alone to be beaten.
Panicked, pacing my kitchen, I’d had to run to our bathroom to throw up. I fell asleep on the bathroom floor after that. But somehow, when my parents came home, I’d gotten up and tried to act as normal as possible. Down in the basement, the game controllers sat next to each other on the sofa, right where Rikker and I had left them.
So I’d knocked them off onto the floor, then curled up in a ball and commenced hating myself. And I’d never really stopped.
Last weekend in Boston, I’d given those memories a couple more hours to churn. After pacing the streets, I walked back to the block where our team’s hotel was. But instead of going inside, I went into the hotel on the next corner. Sitting at the bar, I’d dampened those old memories with beer. (Only beer. Bella would be so proud.) Then I’d gone to the check-in desk and asked for a room. Two hundred dollars later, I walked into another hotel room. I didn’t even turn on the lights. I set my phone alarm, dropped my jeans and jacket, climbed into the bed and slept.
The next morning, I’d snuck back into the team’s hotel, and into Rikker’s room to retrieve my things. He’d been eating breakfast with the rest of my teammates.
Since then, we’d spoken only once. After the final game, we’d found ourselves standing next to each other at a fast food counter. “You okay?” he’d asked without removing his eyes from the lit menu board above our heads.
“Yeah, we’re solid,” I’d said.
That was it. Until now.
On my way up the stairs in McHerrin, I passed the rooms where Hartley and Corey had lived last year. When I got to the third floor, one of the doors was ajar. I tapped on it with my knuckles.
“Yeah!” he rasped. The familiar sound of his voice clocked me over the head like it always did, and I made myself take a deep breath before I pushed on the door.Please be fully dressed, I prayed as I entered.
Rikker reclined on his bed, two different textbooks open in front of him. When he glanced up, I saw him do a double take. In fact, he sat up so fast that one of the books slapped shut.
“Hey,” I said. “Bella asked me to drop this for you.”
