7. Brandon #2
“One of them actually responded. A baseball player, I think. Turned me down, but he was nice about it.” Gabe sat back down on his little stool to continue printing. Brandon returned to the bed, careful not to crush his prints. He took a sip of his seltzer.
They turned the conversation back to neutral territory. Gabe asked about hockey and told Brandon about his jobs and his classes and his roommates. It sounded like he didn’t get a single second alone.
Gabe finished the printing and carefully slid the prints into cellophane sleeves for safekeeping. “I gotta hustle if I’m going to make it to work on time.”
“When do you sleep?”
“A question everyone asks. I’m not sure.” Gabe shrugged, but he also yawned. He still had the same dark bags under his eyes that he’d had on their Zoom call.
“Can I buy you some coffee?”
“Now? I’m not sure how that would logistically work.”
“What’s your Venmo?”
Gabe gave him a suspicious look but rattled off his info. Brandon sent him thirty bucks.
“Do rich boys not know how much a coffee costs?”
Brandon wasn’t rich. You famously didn’t make all that much in the AHL.
But he’d never been a spender, he drove his mom’s old Forester still, and he lived in Iowa.
His savings account was padded. The AHL didn’t pay for his apartment, but it paid his expenses when they were on the road.
He couldn’t buy Gabe anything lavish or designer, but he could buy him coffee.
Plus, he was on a two-way contract, which meant he got paid a higher rate for NHL games, and he was playing one the next day.
“Buy yourself a couple. And thanks for the prints. And the conversation.”
“Hey…I am honored to be the first person you told.”
Brandon didn’t know how to respond to that, so he nodded.
Gabe grabbed his backpack and the two of them chatted for five more minutes in the kitchen as Brandon watched Gabe pack the saddest meal he’d ever seen for his meal break.
Gabe hugged him one more time before they got in their cars and headed out.
He got the impression that Gabe was a hugger. Brandon gave most of his hugs on-ice.
When he made it back to Jackson and Ryan’s place, he parked Jackson’s car in the garage and carefully snuck his prints inside.
The two of them were in the kitchen. Ryan stood at the stove, cooking dinner, and Jackson sat at the breakfast bar with a snack plate in front of him.
Brandon waved and dashed upstairs, hiding his prints in a drawer.
He changed—so he’d have a “reason” to go to the guest room immediately—then made his way back downstairs.
“That smells incredible,” he said, taking a seat next to Jackson. He wouldn’t encroach on Ryan’s cooking space now that he knew Ryan was proprietary about it.
“Chicken fettuccine,” Ryan said. “Jack’s favorite.”
Jackson slid his snack plate over to Brandon so they could share.
The way Jackson and Ryan looked at each other—still, after being together for years—made him burn with jealousy.
He tried so hard in that moment to tell them.
He’d done it once that night—said “I’m gay” out loud to another person for the first time. Why not a second time?
What was the point of that, when he didn’t have a reason to tell them? He couldn’t say “Hey, I’m gay, and I want you to know that because I have a boyfriend. ”
Brandon knew he had trouble with self-disclosure.
He grew up with a sister who, through no fault of her own, made him feel like none of his problems were real problems. Why complain, express concern, or disclose any information about himself when Ashley had to EpiPen herself the night before and their parents had to decide who went with her to the ER and who stayed home with Brandon, when they both wanted to be in the ER.
He wasn’t trying to make it into a sob story, but when he said things out loud, he liked to have a reason for it.
Otherwise, he felt like he was desperate for attention. He’d learned that was a bad thing.
“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Ryan asked, using tongs to pull long strands of pasta out of boiling water, placing them into the cream sauce he’d made.
“No. Yes. Of course I’m nervous. I’m excited. My dad is going to come.”
“Single dad?” Jackson asked.
“Um, no, my mom is staying home with my sister.”
“Kid sister?”
“She’s younger than me, but she’s an adult. She has really bad allergies, so she couldn’t come. She can’t fly—too much risk of breathing in peanut air. And my mom stayed in solidarity.” He rarely explained MCAS to people. “Really bad allergies” generally sufficed.
“God, that’s awful,” Ryan said. “I’m sorry they can’t be here to support you.”
“They’ll blow up the group text. I’m hoping that I’m up when the Northern Lights are in Utah so I can see them. She’s my best friend.”
“You’ll make ’em proud,” Jackson promised. And then they were dishing up, Lola patiently waiting for Ryan to drop a few noodles and some chicken in her food dish.
They were right. Maybe not that he was guaranteed to make his family proud—though he knew they would be—but that he should focus on the game the next day.
Jackson talked about his game day routine, when they were expected to show up for morning skate, and what time Jackson usually headed to the arena for the game.
After dinner, Ryan and Jackson took Lola for a walk, and Brandon headed up to the guest room.
He slipped the prints out of their cellophane sleeves, which held three or four prints each, and spread them across his bed.
There were a few he knew he’d be sending to Ashley.
The Minneapolis skyline. A winter scene.
Houseplants at varying levels of life. Gabe’s cat’s stretching routine.
There were some he was keeping too. One that looked like a still life of Gabe’s messy kitchen. A pair of feet in slouchy socks.
And then, of course, all of the explicit ones, which would forever remind him of the first time he came out to anyone.
He sent Ashley photos of the ones he was thinking of mailing to her and then packaged the prints back up, hiding all the explicit ones behind safe-for-work images. But not before giving each one a long look.
What he was going to do with them was still a mystery, but he’d liked meeting Gabe. Getting to know him was nice.
Ash
I want the one of the cat!! How did making friends go? How’s your fancy accommodations, aka your captain’s spare bedroom?
Ashley was extremely allergic to cats, which was one of life’s myriad cruelties. She loved animals.
Brandon
Making friends was good. Jackson and Ryan are extremely welcoming. The bed is comfortable, idk.
He sent her a photo of Lola, and she told him about how Logan, her official boyfriend , apparently, had planned a surprise picnic for her and had called their mom from the grocery store for help.
Ash
It was so sweet, but it’s also so frustrating that he had to call my mom just to make sure I could eat.
Brandon
I’m glad he did though.
It was hard to be a protective older brother from a distance, but so far, he approved.
Gabe sent him a text with a photo of a cup of coffee, letting him know he made it to work before the coffee shop in the grocery store closed for the night. Brandon tapped a heart onto the photo and told him he hoped his shift went fast.
And in the morning, he had a post-shift selfie, wishing Brandon good luck on his debut. He thought about inviting him, but then he thought about Gabe sitting next to his dad and couldn’t make his brain go there.
Maybe someday.
He sent Gabe a mirror selfie in his Minnesota Northern Lights t-shirt as he got ready for his day, and though it took hours because he assumed Gabe was sleeping, he got a string of heart eyes emojis back.