“You done?”I asked.
“For tonight, yeah.”He rubbed the back of his neck.“Exam’s still a cliff, but at least I can see the trail.”
“Trails iterate.”I stacked the worksheets, squared the edges.“Tomorrow, we drill adjusting entries.”
Luke groaned and threw back his head.“I won’t survive that.”
“You will.”I placed the stack on my desk, centered.“Now off with the ice.Fifteen minutes elapsed.”
He lifted the pea bag; water beaded off the plastic.“You timing?”
“Sort of.”My watch had been quietly counting down while we worked.I didn’t mention that.
He stood, rotated the arm, winced but less than earlier.“Pain scale?”
“Three if I don’t poke it.”
“Maybe Dalton knows what he’s talking about,” I said.
“He’s a good trainer.”He smiled, sheepish, reached for the towel, and patted the floor dry where droplets landed.Muscles in his back stretched under the T-shirt.I looked away before observation registered as staring.
He disappeared into the sink alcove, wringing the water, returned with the towel slung over one shoulder.The room felt bigger with him up, yet more crowded.
“Need anything else?”I asked, voice too even.
“Hot shower, eight hours of sleep, and one miracle midterm curve.”He opened the mini-fridge, grabbed two seltzers, tossed me one.
“Seltzer covers none of those.”
“Hydration’s a miracle in hockey.”He cracked the tab; hiss echoed the radiator’s last gasp.“Thanks, by the way.”
“For carbonated water?”
“For… all of it.”He gestured to the pad, the peas, maybe the space between us.“Nobody’s done that before.”
“Everybody has study groups.”
“Study groups don’t provide individualized tutoring and write twelve-point room constitutions.”
I sipped lime fizz.“Normal is relative.”
He laughed under his breath.“Relative to what?”
“Chaos with boundaries.”
He toasted the air.“I can live with that.”He drained half the can, then set it on the windowsill, condensation halo already forming.
“Trivia on Thursday?”he asked.
“Conditional yes.”I lifted my can.
His eyes crinkled.“Ryan said he’ll buy you fries.”
“Bribe rejected until after the exam.”
“Blueberry bar?Trade staple for staple.”
“Maybe.”My lips twitched.“I’ll run inventory.”
