HENRY

NATE HAWKINS IS SITTING ON the living room couch. I blink once, twice. Desperately try to remember if I’ve hit my head today.

“At least pretend to be happy to see me, bud,” he says when the surprise of him being there stops me in my tracks in the doorway.

“Do you say bud now because you’re a fake Canadian?” Robbie asks him.

They’re both sipping from their favorite mugs, and a nostalgic wave drags me under when I realize how familiar the sight of Robbie and Nate gossiping in the living room drinking coIee feels.

“How about I stick my foot up your ass and you can tell me how fake that feels,” he snaps back. “Hen asked me the same thing a few weeks ago.”

“Are you going into the house?” Russ asks from behind me. I drop my bag at the end of the couch and sit beside Nate, resisting the urge to poke him to check that he’s real.

“So,” he says, turning in his seat to face me. “How’s it going, Captain? How’s Faulkner?”

Robbie and Russ both loudly groan, but before I can respond Russ holds up his cell phone. “JJ is video calling me. Did you tell him you were coming?”

Nate shakes his head as Russ accepts the call. “I sensed something was happening,” JJ says immediately. “Having a reunion without me, are you? Sel1sh bastards.”

“Aren’t you playing in Florida tonight?” Nate asks him. “Sensed something was happening, my ass. You saw it on my close friends.”

“Why do you have a Canadian accent?” JJ says, screwing up his nose.

“Thank you!” Robbie shouts, making me jump, and Nate mutters something under his breath. “I said that when he got here and he said I was making it up.”

JJ’s smile is huge. I suspect it’s the success of annoying Nate from the other side of the country. “There is de1nitely something distinctly moosey about you these days, Nathan. Very oI-putting. So what are we gossiping about? What’s the 411? Or the tea as the youth say.”

“When you say ‘as the youth say,’ are you talking about when you said that, like, two months ago?” Robbie asks. “Nate was asking Hen how being captain is when you called.”

JJ makes the same groan Russ and Robbie did a few minutes ago, and I feel like my friends have conveyed my feelings without me even needing to say a word. “Why the fuck does everyone keep groaning at me?” Nate says, looking confused.

I should step in and explain how I feel, but in all honesty, I’m too tired. Me talking about my feelings leads to my friends oIering mountains of advice to make me feel diIerent, but it doesn’t work. I can’t escape the constant worry that everything is going to go wrong and it’s going to be my fault.

“I’m just tired of Faulkner’s incessant need to talk to me about hockey,” I say, opting to go with my easiest annoyance. “I don’t want to see him as much as I do.”

“Henry takes everything too personally,” Robbie says to Nate. “He’s internalizing every mistake and holding himself responsible for them, even though we’ve all told him it doesn’t work like that.”

This starts a conversation I can largely sit back from while everyone, as predicted, weighs in. Robbie explains how he’s trying to mediate between me and Faulkner, Russ talks positively about how the season is going, and Nate gives a speech about teamwork.

JJ clears his throat. “Is no one going to point out how our faithful leader fucked oI to play in tights for several months last year? Hen, as long as you actually play in games you’re gonna be better than Nate. Don’t even sweat it.”

I can hardly tell what anyone else is saying over the sound of JJ laughing at his own joke, while Nate lists every single thing he covered JJ’s ass for in the four years they lived and played together. By the time they’re done, I feel like my head

might explode from all the advice they’ve given me. I successfully zone out, only mentally rejoining them when Nate starts giving Russ’s phone the 1nger. “Friends are allowed to have diIerent opinions on how to handle things, Jaiden. I don’t have to agree with you because I know you’re wrong.”

JJ immediately 1res back, but I’ve already stopped listening again.

“Are you coming to the gig tonight?” Russ asks Nate when it quiets down again.

Russ’s brother’s band, Take Back December, is in town tonight, and Russ got everyone tickets. I said I didn’t want to go because I don’t like their music, and more relevantly, I think Russ’s brother is a jackass.

“No. I’m only here for twenty-four hours—I don’t even think it’s that. I need to leave soon to watch Stas at the rink and then I’m taking her to a bookstore. She’s really stressed out at the moment. Well, I guess you guys will have noticed. Plus she’s struggling with the distance.” Nobody says anything. “Shit, we both are. It fucking sucks, but I’m going to give her my full attention while I’m here. She’s in a meeting with her professor right now so I had time to stop by.”

I didn’t know Anastasia was stressed out because I haven’t checked. She’s always busy, and since I started studying with Halle and didn’t need her study group, I’ve barely seen her. It was easy when she lived here because I saw her every day. It’s easy to make sure the other guys are okay because they turn up at my house almost daily. It’s made me realize that I’m not good at maintaining friendships that don’t appear in front of me, and that I need to add checking in on her to my priority list.

When Nathan says goodbye and leaves, Robbie is the 1rst person to say something. “We need to keep a closer eye on Stassie. I’ll speak to Lola. I don’t know why she hasn’t mentioned it. She’s pretty busy, too; maybe she hasn’t noticed.”

“I feel really bad,” Russ admits. “I knew she missed Nate, but I thought she was okay otherwise.”

“I didn’t know,” I say. “I haven’t asked her how she is.”

“Well, I knew,” JJ says, and I had kind of forgotten he was there. “Guess I’m just better than you all.”

“Goodbye, Jaiden,” Robbie drawls. “Go and do your job.”

“Bye, friends. It’s been a pleasure as always.”

When it’s just the three of us again, I lie down on the couch. “I might go to bed.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come tonight? Aurora asked me to put Halle’s name on the list.”

I was supposed to see Halle last night, but I had to go to the studio to 1nish up a project, so came home instead. “Why didn’t she ask me to put her name on the list?”

Russ shrugs. “Dunno. Are you coming then? Since she’s going? Should I put your name on the list? It’d be cool if you came. No pressure, though, or anything. But it’s no problem if you want me to add your name.”

I still don’t want to go, but I do want to see Halle, and Russ is being kind of weird. Also, Robbie’s giving me the look I’ve seen him give Nathan a thousand times. JJ would joke that it was them communicating telepathically, but I’m getting nothing. I hate when people give me weird looks and expect me to know what the fuck they’re trying to say.

Everyone is being weird today.

“Sure, I’ll come. I’m going to nap here, though, before I get ready. I’m too tired for the stairs.”

My roommates both put their recliners up, nodding in agreement, and Robbie turns on Judge Judy. “I’ll set an alarm. Oh, this is a good episode.”

“WHY DO YOU LOOK SO mysterious and brooding?” Kris asks, holding his hand up to get the attention of the bartender.

“Thinking.” Trying to drown out the music by dissociating. “Not brooding.”

“Well, not to interrupt whatever plan you’re cooking up in that beautiful brain of yours, but Halle just walked in with her friends,” he says, nodding toward where our group is. “God, I’d let Cami Walker ruin my life.”

As excited as I am to see her, there’s something about Kris saying Halle is with her friends that makes me feel good. I think it’s because not that long ago Halle was saying she didn’t have any.

“Ask her out then.”

Kris scoIs. “I did. Last year at Robbie’s birthday party, and she told me she wouldn’t date someone younger than her. It’s a curse liking older women.”

Kris carries on talking about his recent unlucky spell with women, but I’ve stopped fully paying attention. I’m not sure one year counts as liking older women, but I don’t have the energy to debate it with him.

Halle’s taken the spare spot between Jimmy and Brody, two new guys from the team who love the band and were oIered tickets by Russ. I don’t like either of them. I wish Russ had thought more about his generosity. They’re good at hockey, but they took the douchey athlete stereotype and ran with it.

Maybe it’s because I was raised by two moms or maybe it’s because I actually

respect women, but I’m not a fan of how some of my teammates act.

“You might want to go and save her from Tweedledee and Tweedle Douche Bag,” Kris adds. “I’ll wait for the rest of the drinks.”

Brody is already hitting on Halle by the time I get over to them, which means I get to do the only good thing about dealing with men who respect bullshit hierarchy and misogyny more than they do human beings. “Leave.”

I feel like I’m pretending to be someone else when the harshness comes out of my mouth, but I do really want them to leave. Leave the venue, ideally.

“Sorry, Cap,” Brody says, hitting Jimmy on the shoulder to get his attention. “Didn’t realize she’s yours.”

She’s yours says everything anyone would ever need to know about these two,

and I’m embarrassed to know them as they shu e away to bother someone else.

I can tell Halle is buzzed as soon as she giggles and leans in to hug me. “My hero. I’m so happy I’m yours.” Her laughter is so loud I can hear it over the instrumental being played from the speakers while we wait for the band. “Sorry, that was straight out of, like, 90210 or some old teen show or something. ‘Leave.’ Oh my goodness, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you actually look intimidating before.”

Her laughter instantly makes me feel better. “I’m very intimidating when I need to be.”

“I’m happy to be your damsel in distress if you’re going to be Mr. Serious.” She pinches my chin and shakes my head a little, pouting, and that’s when I realize she’s more than just buzzed.

“How drunk are you?” I ask, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she rummages through her purse. “Do you need help?”

“I am *very* drunk. I brought you a present, but I can’t freaking find it.” She lets out a dramatic huff, still digging through a purse that’s way too small to justify all this effort. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so flustered. Finally, she pulls out a tiny drawstring bag and drops it into my hand. “Open it.”

I have no idea what to expect. “Is it seeds?”

“I love that I give you a small mystery bag at a concert, and your first guess is seeds, not drugs. Just open it, Henry.”

She watches intently as I empty two small black loops into my palm. “Thanks, but I don’t have my ears pierced.”

Halle bursts into laughter and takes the loops, carefully placing them in my ears. Instantly, the noise around us softens. “They’re noise reducers,” she explains. “So I can split my time between dancing with Aurora like I promised and covering your ears. I’m multitasking tonight, Turner. You’ll have to share me.”

I can still hear everything, but it’s like someone turned down the volume. The pounding in my head eases. I wrap my arms around her and pull her into a hug, genuinely grateful. “Thank you.”

She looks up at me with a smile, and I kiss her forehead, surprising us both. “You’re welcome.”

Right on cue, the lights dim, and the crowd erupts in cheers. Halle turns toward the stage, but doesn’t leave my arms. My hands rest comfortably around her waist, and she leans back against me.

Maybe the band isn’t that bad after all.