Page 15

She lifts her cup again, still looking far too interested in the tickets.

"My brother plays for San Diego. I’m not sitting in Wolf’s seats at a Hawkeyes game."

"You’ve been to Hawkeyes games."

My nose scrunches up at the idea of being in the enemy's barn, but yes… technically she’s right. "When they play San Diego, yes."

"Fine. Continue."

"He said he was sorry about Beau."

Ellie lowers her cup. "See! Look, he apologized."

I lean forward in my seat. "Yeah. Six years too late."

"What did you say?" She swirls what’s left of her cappuccino in her cup.

"I asked if he meant it."

"And?"

"He said yes. Then he reminded me that Beau is playing again and said he never meant to hit him."

Her smile disappears. "Okay. That part could have been better."

"A little."

"I’d like him to try that again without explaining why you should feel better."

I look past her at the order forms. "My family hates him, Ellie. It doesn’t matter how else he tries it again."

"Maybe you’re right… Maybe you’re wrong."

"Beau just got his chance. He still calls me after a game and talks about whether they’ll give him the same minutes next time. He’s icing his knee for hours after every practice and every game. My parents don’t see Wolf on TV and think about how funny he is with reporters. They think about the surgeries. Watching their son in pain. At least that sports foundation for non-pro athletes paid for Beau’s surgeries, or else it would have bankrupted my parents."

"I get it. I’m not trying to be insensitive to what your family has endured to get Beau back on the ice," she says again, quieter this time.

"And I saw it. I was sitting right there."

"I was sitting with you. I saw it too."

"You screamed, remember?" I ask her. She was sitting with me and my parents at that game. My parents picked us up from our campus apartment at Boston University to make the drive over to Boston College. "So don’t tell me it was six years ago and I should get over it."

She puts her cup down and looks at me.

"I’m just saying there might be more to him than the guy you remember from that game."

There might be. This morning, I found out his dad had a heart attack two months ago, and he hasn’t seen his mom in twenty-two years. Neither was information I expected to get when I told him to give the tickets to his parents. I felt like an asshole. I still do, a little. But having a complicated family doesn’t erase what happened to Beau. I can feel bad about one conversation without changing my mind about six years of being angry.

"I need a kitchen," I say. "I don’t need to figure out Wolf."

She nods. "Fine. Whatever you need to do. At least tonight is covered. If you need tomorrow too, we could–"

"No." I point my finger at her. "Tonight only. We already agreed."

Ellie folds her arms. "Then what are you going to do?"

I look at the framed photograph on the shelf behind her. The two of us outside our freshman dorm, a year before Beau got hurt. We’d just bought matching mugs from the campus bookstore. We thought we were very grown-up.