“The coach,” I correct. “And instead of coach to you, could we change my title, actually?”
I finish washing the dishes, so I turn off the water.
“What were you thinking?”
I shrug, drying my hands. “I like your company. You’re chill. I’m chill. I was thinking we could be best friends.”
His eyebrows fly up. “Best friends?”
I nod. “That’s a big label, isn’t it?” I shrug. “It would be nice to have a guy best friend. I haven’t had one since high school, and it’s honestly the best. But I feel like I have to get to know you better if I’m going to go around and call you a best friend.”
He laughs. “Yeah, no kidding. It’s only been a week.” His eyes are searching around, widening.
“Are you okay with that?” I ask, not knowing how to read his tone or body language. I can’t tell if he’s going to run for the hills or not.
“Yeah, I’m down for that. I’m not friends with any women. It’s near impossible today, and I agree. You are chill, and so am I. I enjoy your company too.”
I lighten up a little as I say, “This is completely platonic then.”
I can breathe!
He nods. “Yeah, I’m not looking for anything more.”
I sigh in relief. “Perfect because I was a little worried for a second there.”
“Worried about what?”
“I was worried you were looking at my ass coming up the stairs.”
He smirks. “I was looking down at my own feet, making sure I didn’t trip and fall. I wasn’t looking, I swear.”
“You’re a perfect best friend for me.” I groan. “I’m so relieved. I’m so tired of everyone needing or wanting something out of me, you know? It becomes really exhausting after a while. Dylan, it’s everyone I meet that has these extreme expectations, and I’m starting to think it’s me.”
He says, “It’s not you. You’re really cool, and people like to take advantage of cool people.”
“I’m cool?” I question.
He nods. “And kind and outgoing and—are you always like this? Or am I only seeing a fraction of you?”
I smile. He is so insightful and thoughtful, and I love the heck out of it. “I don’t know. I’d like to think that I am, but people tell me that it’s fake, that I do it for show, or––”
“Stop right there. Don’t let those words live in your head. Just be yourself and fuck the haters. They’re winning every time you recall their words.”
I grin. “Yeah, fuck the haters. Do people use you, too?”
He leans back and sighs. “Apparently, I’m only good for my hockey stick. Hooking up with a hockey player who might go pro means I’m treated more like an object than a person. And if I’m being honest, I liked that for a long time, and then it just got old.”
“Your ego needs new things to get high off of. You’re experiencing hedonic adaptation. Totally a normal human thing. It happens to me with posting or getting brand deals. I get very excited and overly happy, then the thrill dies down. But I’m able to take the action still.”
“I think that’s cool as shit you have that, Ce. People care about what you have to say; they buy the shit you post about. Being an influencer is cool as fuck. You should be proud of yourself, and not in a mocking way. I know it’s not easy, so seriously be proud of yourself.”
I smile at his kind words. “Thank you. That means a lot to me, bestie.”
He rolls his eyes. “If we’re gonna call each other best friends, we need to know everything about each other. Down to the nitty-gritty. Once word gets out to the team about you? And they find out how cool you are? What you look like? I’m going to catch aload of shit from all of them, so if we’re doing this, we need to do it right. And once you start coming around, they’re all gonna want to hook up with you. I don’t know if you want that.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t hook up. I lost my virginity to Bethany’s brother. And then I slept with my boyfriend. And that’s it.”
“Two guys?” he asks with two fingers in the air. “You only slept with two guys?”
