“I do have a degree,cabrón. Try to respect the education.”
I laughed weakly and pressed the peas back against my hand.
Ryan pushed away from the counter. “Anyway, she’ll be here soon.”
“You kicking me out?”
“You’re staying on the couch so don’t make it weird.”
“Pretty sure your version of not making it weird is standing in the kitchen eye-fucking her while discussing nineteenth-century symbolism.”
“Go to sleep, East.”
He switched off the kitchen light and disappeared down the hallway, leaving the apartment dim except for the weak lamp beside the couch and the city lights spilling through the rain-streaked window.
I lay back because sitting upright felt too much like waiting for something. The couch was uncomfortable, the blanket smelled faintly of detergent and my hand pulsed beneath the frozen peas.
Somewhere across town, Aura existed beneath the same rain, probably hating me.
Maybe missing me too.
Maybe both.
I closed my eyes and saw her face when I walked away. I heard my voice beside her ear, warning her what I would become.
For the first time since I said it, I wondered whether warning her had been a threat or a confession.
Then I turned my face toward the back of the couch and stayed awake until the rain stopped.
11
Easton
The morning after my first win as captain, I learned that my sisters were the only people on earth capable of making hockey players, one semi-pro graduate, and Cade Mercer show up at Waffle House before ten without violence.
Skylar had demanded breakfast in the group chat she had somehow bullied Briggs into creating under the nameWade Family Support Staff. It already had twenty-nine messages, three memes I didn’t understand, and one blurry photo of Briggs asleep with Vivi’s napkin drawing of a goalie crease beside his face like evidence of a religious experience.
Vivi:Waffles. Syrup on the side. The guys come too.
Briggs:I HAVE BEEN SUMMONED.
Rider:I’ll be there.
Ryan, who apparently had nothing better to do on his off day than act like he wasn’t emotionally attached to the team he no longer played for, added his own response.
Ryan:This is how cults start.
Cade:Ten.
I stared at the thread at eight in the morning with a headache behind my eyes, a split place inside my chest where Aura’s name kept cutting through, and the ugly memory of the Hockey House kitchen sitting heavy in my stomach.
My mom took one look at me across the hotel room and said, “Well, you look like a man who either got no sleep or lost a fight with someone important.”
Skylar, sitting cross-legged on the second bed with her mascara wand in hand, looked up immediately. “Did something happen?”
Vivi stood near the small hotel desk, lining up sugar packets by color with her headphones resting around her neck. “Easton’s eyes are red.”
“Betrayed by my own bloodline,” I muttered, shoving my phone into the pocket of my hoodie.
