“Trial and error.”My finger hooked the thread again, tugged until it snapped.“We iterate.”
His shoulders dropped as though those two syllables loosened a ratchet.He shifted, inching his leg until his knee touched mine.Contact light, deliberate.
I let my hand stay on his good shoulder.My heart pounded like a mis-set metronome, out of sync with the quiet room.
“I should thank Ryan,” I said, mostly to fill the silence.“I’m glad he knew to bring you here.”
“He threatened to tape me to the bench if I didn’t let him walk me back,” Luke said.He offered a smile—weak, but real.“He knows, Austen.He knows I’ve been avoiding you.”
“Great.So, the entire roster knows.”
“They’re not gossip hounds.But Ryan… he sees the ice better than anyone.He noticed I was drifting.And he knows why I was drifting.”
Luke closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into my touch.“I don’t know if I ever mentioned it, but the team knows I’m gay.I was very clear about that when I agreed to transfer here.I don’t hide that.”
“Why hide us?”I asked, the question slipping out sharper than I intended.“If they know, why not just tell them we’re dating?Why the secrecy?”
“Because once it’s public, it’s a thing.It’s a topic.It makes it… real.”
I pulled my hand back.“So, you’re ashamed of the reality of me?”
Luke’s eyes snapped open.He reached out, grabbing my wrist with his good hand.His grip was desperate.
“No.Never think that.You are the best thing that has happened to me in this school.But that’s the problem.”
“I don’t follow the logic.”
“My dad,” Luke said, the word heavy.“He’s known for years that I’m gay.Honestly, doesn’t care about who I sleep with.What he cares about is where my head is.”
Luke let go of my wrist, rubbing his face with his palm.
“Since I was six, it’s been drilled into me that the only thing that matters is the ice.Anything outside the rink is noise.Friends, parties, relationships—they’re all just distractions.Leaks in the system where the focus drains out.”
Luke looked up at me, his expression miserable.
“My dad wouldn’t care if you were a guy, a girl, or an extraterrestrial.He’d see you as a liability.And as much as I hate it… I still hear his voice in the back of my head.Every time I want to spend time with you, I feel like I’m failing him.”
The radiator hissed, steam filling the pause.The equation finally balanced.He wasn’t fighting me; he was fighting a ghost.
“Your father’s data is flawed.Trust me, I’ve spent my entire life trying not to depend on anyone.It doesn’t work.If it worked, I would have figured out a way to do it by now,” I said quietly.“But I understand the conditioning.”
I looked at him and saw the soggy peas drooping against his shoulder.“Time for another bag.”I stood, removed the bag from his shoulder, and swapped it for one that was frozen.He flinched, then settled.
“Lie down before you fall over,” I ordered.“We can debug the rest of the programming later.”
He complied, sliding to his side, good arm tucked under the pillow.The hoodie bunched; I straightened the hem, pulling the blanket over him.He watched, expression unreadable but soft around the edges.
“You don’t have to stay,” he murmured.
“I wasn’t planning to.”I grinned.I dragged my desk chair closer anyway, angled so I could time the ice rotations.Phone timer set to fifteen.
Luke exhaled, long.“If Coach benches me tomorrow—”
“She won’t.”
“You can’t know that.”
“True.”I leaned back, folded arms.“Admittedly, probability favors people who can lift their glove.Sleep helps that.”
