“The truth. That we’d like to talk to him and Wesley. That it’s important.”
I watched as Étienne typed, deleted, typed again. Finally, he showed me the screen.
Étienne
Hey, Griffin. Hope you’re doing well. This is kind of out of nowhere, but Marco and I would like to talk to you and Wesley about something important. Would you guys have time to meet this afternoon around 4?
“That works,” I said.
Étienne hit send, then set the phone down between us. “What if he asks what it’s about?”
“Then we tell him. He’ll understand.”
We sat there, both staring at his phone, waiting. Less than two minutes later, it buzzed.
Griffin
Hey! Good to hear from you. Yeah, we can meet. Everything okay?
Étienne looked at me. I nodded.
Étienne
We’re okay. Just need some advice about something personal.
Griffin
Got it. Come to my place? We can talk privately.
Étienne
That would be perfect. Thank you.
Griffin
Of course. I’ll text you the address. And whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.
Étienne’s hand tightened around his phone. “He knows.”
“Probably guesses, at least.” Anxiety crawled up my spine. Griffin was smart—he’d read between the lines of that text. “Need some advice.” He’d know exactly what that meant. “Griffin’s perceptive. And he’s been through this.”
A moment later, Griffin’s text came through with an address in Beaverton.
Griffin
See you later. Looking forward to catching up.
Étienne saved the address in his contacts, then looked at me. “I’m terrified.”
“Me too. But at least we’re doing something. Taking a step.”
We got up and showered together, two big hockey playersknocking elbows and knees in the small tub. I slipped back to my room at eight. The hallway was busy, teammates heading to breakfast, but no one gave me a second glance.
Just another player walking the halls.
Nothing to see.
We were meeting Griffin and Wesley this afternoon. Actually talking to someone about coming out.
