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“Barnes!” He claps Koda on the shoulder. “You made it.”

Koda looks at him and sees right through it.

“Waleska. Kennebeck.” Greeley steps back and holds the door wide. “Come in. Kitchen’s through there. There’s a keg out back.”

He says my name like nothing has ever happened between us, and he puts his hand on my shoulder as I go past, a friendly squeeze, and about six people see him do it. I don’t look at him. I keep walking.

Koda didn’t know it was Greeley’s house at first. He found out at Friday’s skate, when two of the juniors were talking about it in the hallway: Greeley’s place, Saturday, everybody’s going. By then he’d already told Paige we’d be here, and he’d been texting her for three days like a man with a second job. “It’s a party,” he told me yesterday. “You’re coming.”

“He lives there,” I said.

Rafe wanted to come for reasons that had nothing to do with Paige. Rafe wanted to come because Greeley would hate it. And now we’re all here.

Friday’s skate was a disaster. Dannebrog split us for good: Greeley stayed at second-line center, and I stayed at third, and it wasn’t a look anymore. Nobody said the word permanent. Rafe still wouldn’t pass to Greeley, not in a single drill, and when Dannebrog screamed at him about it, Rafe said, “I’m playing my game,” and Dannebrog told him to get off the ice. Rafe skated off and sat in the locker room in full gear for forty minutes.

Afterward in the tunnel, Greeley fell into step beside me with his helmet under his arm. “Doesn’t feel good, does it?” he said, quietly, pleasantly, so nobody else could hear. “Standing there watching somebody else run your line.”

I didn’t say anything.

“You’ll get used to it.” He bumped my shoulder with his on his way past. “That’s the good thing about third line. Nobody expects much.”

Dannebrog was standing at the end of the tunnel watching, too far away to hear a word, and what he saw was Greeley patting me on the shoulder like we were teammates who got along.

The kitchen is packed. The keg line runs out the back door, so I take a beer out of a cooler on the floor and stand against a wall and let the party happen around me. Rafe and Koda end up against the wall with me, watching. Greeley keeps greeting people like it’s a wedding reception instead of a college party, and I drink my beer and mind my business.

Ten minutes in, Koda says, “They’re here.”

“Who?” Rafe asks.

“Paige.” Koda nods toward the door. “The girls. She’s wearing black.” He pushes off the wall and goes.

I stay where I am, back to the wall, a view of the door and both hallways. My legs are sore from Friday, there’s no skate tomorrow, and I have homework due Monday that I haven’t started. I’m going to give this ninety minutes and walk home.

Greeley works the room the entire time. He’s laughing with the juniors by the stairs. He has an arm around a sophomore’s neck in the doorway, and then he’s refilling somebody’s cup. He’s the guy everybody’s glad to see. And every twenty minutes or so, he looks over at me without his face changing at all, and then he looks away.

At some point Koda comes back with Paige. She’s exactly like she was Tuesday, confident and direct, looking around the kitchen like she’s deciding something about it, with a cup in her hand and Koda walking about four inches closer to her than he needs to.

“You remember Nash,” Koda says.

She looks at me. “We’ve met.”

“Have you?” Rafe says, calling her out.

“Briefly,” Paige says, still looking at me.

Neither of us says anything about what happened in that room on Tuesday. I do a pass of the kitchen and the hallway behind Paige, and the blonde isn’t with her. My shoulders come down about an inch. Good.

“So where’s your friend?” Koda leans on the counter next to me and takes a drink. “The one who wanted to know if Nash was busy?”

Paige’s face goes red all at once, up her neck and into her cheeks, and she takes a sip from her cup that’s more about buying time than thirst. “She’s—” She clears her throat. “She was just with us.”

Koda knows exactly what he’s doing. “Is she coming over? Nash is right here.”

“Koda,” I warn.

“What? You’re right here.”

“She just got out of something,” Paige says fast, talking only to Koda now, like if she keeps her eyes off me it doesn’t count. “Like two days ago. Three years with the guy. He cheated on her at that party during welcome week. That’s why she was so—” She waves a hand. “That’s why she was like that.”