“That’s called shrinkflation, Nicholas. Welcome to capitalism,” Olli announces as he strolls into the living room, then claps his hands. “Now listen up, kids, I’m calling a roommate meeting!”
“What? What for?” Nicko groans, just as Sasha points out that: “Lind and Marisol are missing.”
“Just Marisol. I’m here.”
Linden’s hair is damp from the shower. A few stray drops fall from the tips, darkening his oversized shirt. I bet half his clothes would fit me just fine, even though I’ve got five inches and at least sixty pounds on him. There are shadows under his eyes, just like the day he walked in on us in the bathroom. I give him a small smile when our eyes meet, and he tilts his head in response.
“That’s fine. I’ve already cleared this with her.” Olli waves Sasha’s objection off like he’s batting at a fly and sinks into the armchair.
“Can’t this wait until we’ve decided what to do about dinner?” Nicko complains, but he’s sitting down as well, crumpling up the empty chips bag in his hands.
“Hush, you’ll live, and this is important for you,” Olli corrects him. “It’s about who’ll get your room after you move out.”
“That has literallynothingto do with me!” Nicko throws his hands up, then reaches for his cell phone. “I’m ordering burgers. Who’s in?”
“I’m good,” I announce quickly before a small commotion breaks out, everyone leaning over their cell phones and scrolling through the menus. Nicko selflessly takes it upon himself to place the order. Though I suspect he’s also using the opportunity to check in on his boyfriend, who flew out to Oregon this morning to see his moms.
The moment he leaves the room, Linden drops into the space beside me on the couch. He lets out a groan as he sinks into the cushions, low and tired, and I can practically feel the sensation underneath my ribcage.
“Tough day?” I ask him, but Olli cuts me off with a snap of his fingers.
“Focus now! We need to talk about Nicko’s room,” he chides, and I sigh. Nicko will move out once the hockey camp he’s teaching wraps up. After that, he’s planning a summer trip to the Netherlands with his boyfriend and twin brother before reporting for training with his NHL team. It still feels crazy to imagine my sullen, socially averse roommate as a professional hockey player. The college kid who’s currently ordering half a truckload of food in the hallway will get into fights with hockey legends—because we all know he will—on national TV.
I wonder how I will feel about all of this next year, when it’s my time to move to the next stage of life. College football draws a lot of attention, but I still feel protected in our campus bubble. BTech’s made a name for itself as a football talent factory over the past two decades, but I mostly fly under the radar—covered by the giant shadows players like Seb or Evander cast with their family legacies. I’ll have to step out from under them soonerrather than later if I want a future of my own, which brings me back to the messages on my locked phone screen.
“Micah?”
I jump when Sasha elbows me in the ribs, knocking me sideways into Linden’s space.
“Ouch!” I complain and rub my side. That girl’s a hockey player through and through, every jab a weaponized hit.
“Sorry,” she apologizes sheepishly. “But you kinda zoned out on us.”
Three pairs of eyes are fixated on me, and I blink back in confusion, only realizing now that a whole conversation must have gone right over my head.
“Sorry, what?”
“Olli asked if you wanted first pick on Nicko’s room,” Linden explains.
“Oh, uhm…” I bite my lip, my eyes dropping to my hands. Nicko’s room is amazing—the biggest one in the house, with large windows and a nice view. But the rent is probably astronomical.
“The thing is, I kinda already promised it to someone else,” Olli admits with a crooked grin, unknowingly saving me.
“Olli!” Linden protests on my behalf, his forehead furrowed. “If Micah wants the room, he should get it. For one, his current room is tiny. And also, Johnson promised he’d install an AC up there when he moved in, but never did. He deserves first pick.”
“True.” Olli hums and throws me an apologetic smile. “Sorry, man, I didn’t think about how cramped your space was. I’ll tell Vince no then.”
“Wait!” I interject when I see him reaching for his cell phone, my mind reeling as I try to catch up. “Who’s Vince?”
The contrite look on Olli’s face quickly disappears when he raises a brow at me. “My friend I just talked about? He’s searching for a room for next year—didn’t you listenat all?!”
“Sorry, I…had a long day,” I mumble, then hurry to add, “But he can have Nicko’s room then! I’ll stay in the attic.”
“Are you sure?” Linden turns to me, still frowning. “It must be sweltering up there right now.”
Actually, it feels like the ninth circle of hell, but I’m not going to tell him that.
“Nah, I’m good.” I laugh instead and wave him off. “Nicko’s room would be wasted on me. As soon as training and classes start again, I’ll be gone the whole day. And with away games on top of that—just give it to that Vince guy.” I keep an easy smile on my lips, even as the words gnaw on my insides. It’s for the best—I couldn’t afford that room anyway.
