Because they’d be merciless. Tristan Andrews had been whispered about for weeks when he arrived on campus as a freshman (you just sort of knew with him), and even though Luke had held his head high, he had too. I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t.
“Well, that actually reminds me,” Luke said, “I don’t think I’m gonna make it to the game. I have a history paper due Tuesday.”
“What?” I said. “Really?” I liked having Luke in the crowd, liked seeing him airborne after jumping off the bleachers when we scored.That goal was for you,I’d texted him from the locker room last week, in between periods.Bet you said that to all the girls,he’d texted back (but then later in his room, he declared hockey was the best sport and threw himself at me).
“Yup.” He lifted his leg and lightly kneed me in the jaw. “I’d like to bang it out this weekend.”
“But we’ll see each other later?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said. “If I make decent progress, sure.”
“And if I’m not held captive at dinner,” I mumbled.
Luke glanced up from his book. “Then don’t be,” he said. “If you don’t want to be held captive, C, then don’t be. It’s your life.” He kneed me again. “They’ll understand.”
But would they?I wondered.Would they understand?
Bexley ended up winning the game 4–3, and I felt like a douchebag by the time our appetizers were served. Sage had steered us away from Nick and Emma, but I caught her sneaking peeks at my brother.She wasn’t just fooling around with him, I realized once her hand found mine under the table.Whatever they had, it meant as much to her as it did to Nick.
I cringed when I remembered what I’d said to her, and worried that it was now too late to fix things between them.Don’t center the conversation at dinner around Emma,Nick texted our family group chat today.She gets shy sometimes. Please be cool.
He actually liked her; this was more than just a homecoming date. Nick was trying to move on, and I’d guess it was working based on the way he’d introduced her to our parents, smiling proudly with a hand on her lower back. “Mom, Dad, this is my girlfriend, Emma.”
He also wasn’t returning any of Sage’s stolen looks.
Not that it was easy to keep track—our table was loud and full, Nick and the guys trying to talk over one another. “I’m glad your last slapper went in,” Dad told Cody when things calmed down some. “Because, man, those refs…” He let out a low whistle. “Absolutely terrible. I’d say your buddy Jack had the best heckle of the game.”
“‘Get off your knees, ref!’” Paddy quoted. “‘So you can stop blowing the game!’”
They all cracked up, Emma giggling alongside them. Mom shook her head, but even she was fighting a smile. “Really, Jay?” she said as my spine straightened. “Really?”
“And who was that one Ames kid?” Dad asked once we got our entrees. I glanced down at my chicken piccata; my swishing stomach not interested. “Number nineteen?”
“Dan Richards, left wing,” Nick said automatically. He knew every prep school player and their stats. “What about him?”
“Nothing,” Dad said. “Just that he…”
“Twirls,” Paddy said, snorting. “He twirls instead of sprints, like he’s figure skating.”
“That’s because he figure skated growing up,” Emma chimed in, her cheeks pinkening a little. She knew her stats too. And did extra research.
More laughter, but it was drowned out by this buzzing noisein my ears. I felt myself slump down in my chair when I saw Dad open his mouth, which was when Sage decided to come to life, straightening her shoulders. “Don’t come at men’s figure skating, Mr. Carmichael,” she said firmly. “If I’m remembering correctly, youlost itwhen Nathan Chen choked in PyeongChang, and cheered the loudest when Adam Rippon won his bronze.”
Everyone was silent until Dad chuckled. “I wouldn’t dare, Sage.” He raised his beer. “To Chen’s comeback in 2022!”
Mom toasted her wine. “Hear, hear!”
Meanwhile, I slipped away to the bathroom, sagging back against the door after I’d locked it behind me. It was a one-person sort of deal. “How’s it going?” I asked when Luke answered his phone.
“In the library, starting the footnotes,” he said. “What’s up?”
I swallowed. “We’re still seeing each other later?”
“If you hang up and let me finish, yeah.”
“Okay, cool,” I said, and then asked, “Was it a pain to write?”
“Nah, pretty straightforward. I’m not sure it’s my best effort, but it’s done.”
