18. Brandon
EIGHTEEN
brANDON
If anyone asked, Brandon had not missed Skylar.
“Tell me all about your boy,” Skylar said as the Ruby Reds/Golden Eagles game went to commercial. Skylar sat in the exact spot on the couch Brandon had been in when Gabe drew him. It felt like Gabe visited him eons ago, but it had only been a few weeks.
“What do you want to know?”
“Did he like Iowa?”
“Didn’t get to see much of it.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Skylar said with an arch of his eyebrow.
As much as Brandon occasionally wanted to shove Skylar out the window, he admired him.
Skylar moved through his life as though the concept of being closeted had never been explained to him.
Like his queerness was completely normal.
And Brandon knew that was true. Being gay wasn’t weird.
But the rest of the world didn’t always know that.
Brandon felt lucky to have ended up on an AHL team with a queer roommate in a very gay random little town.
“You’re in a good mood, all things considered. ”
“Got a good review from Coach DeVries. He pretty much said that if a D-man goes down this season, I’ll be the guy who fills the spot. And I’ll probably start out next season in Minnesota.”
“Fuck, dude, congrats.” Brandon tamped down the ping of jealousy he felt, but he couldn’t help it. Getting called up meant not only NHL hockey, but now it also meant Gabe.
“You’ll be up with your boy in no time,” Skylar said. Maybe he liked confident Skylar. When they both made the team, and Sky wasn’t being an annoying weirdo, maybe they could be real friends. “Is he coming down for Thanksgiving? Or Christmas?”
The idea of holidays sent a pang through Brandon’s heart. Considering his sister’s situation, his parents would both be staying home. By now, he expected to have the standard celebration with whatever teammates were also alone. He hadn’t considered that maybe Gabe would be available.
“I’ll have to ask him. Thanksgiving is next week.”
“And then it’s practically the new year.”
“Have you ever had a boyfriend before? Like, a real relationship?”
“I had a high school boyfriend. I don’t know if that counts as a ‘real relationship,’ but he was sweet. We keep in touch a little.”
“This is my first one.” He liked talking about Gabe with people who thought they were together. Testing the waters. Imagining. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“I’m not an advice guy, but just be considerate. Think about him. Make sure he knows he’s the one taking up all your thoughts.”
The game came back on from commercial and Skylar bumped the volume up, conversation over. Be considerate. Think about him . Brandon thought about Gabe constantly, at a rate that was inappropriate for not dating.
He opened Venmo and sent Gabe a hundred bucks.
Seeing Gabe in a school setting knocked Brandon off-balance.
Their small group was reconvening before the end of the semester to give feedback on each other’s stories before their final draft was due.
If he did this regularly, maybe he’d have something constructive to say instead of “I like the symbolism of the rake” and hoping symbolism was the right word. Maybe he meant metaphor.
Brandon hunched over a too-small desk in the hotel room he was sharing with his teammate Walker for the night, since Skylar got called up.
It was the first time Brandon had felt a sharp spike of jealousy knowing Skylar was headed to the Twin Cities.
Walker had noise-canceling headphones on, nose buried in his Nintendo Switch.
It wasn’t the glamorous scene that Brandon pictured when he thought about playing pro hockey.
“It was sweet,” Chloe told Brandon about his own story.
“I like the effort you put into making your sister feel valued and loved. Is there growth you could add there? For example, what if the way you made sure she had a safety net in a normally difficult situation made her feel comfortable doing something she previously found even scarier?”
Yeah, Brandon wasn’t handing out feedback like that. He wished he was recording their Zoom because he didn’t know if his notes about possible changes would even make sense to him afterward.
“I think there are some spots where you could choose some stronger verbs,” Haruto suggested, and Brandon just made the suggested changes right in his doc as they talked through it.
“I loved it,” Gabe said when it was his turn to give Brandon his feedback, and Brandon immediately felt more naked than he had on his couch while Gabe drew him.
He didn’t care how Chloe and Haruto felt about his story.
He didn’t know them. The stakes were low.
But Gabe knew him, and Brandon desperately wanted Gabe to like him.
“It was sweet. Ashley is going to love it.”
“Thanks, Gabe,” Brandon said, thinking about how he thought Gabe’s story was leaps and bounds better than his own. Gabe used words Brandon had to google, and even though his story was the shortest in the group, it was heart-wrenching. Brandon had told him as much.
Gabe looked down at his phone for a while, like Brandon could hardly keep his attention for three minutes before something more interesting came along. But then his phone buzzed with a text, and when he pulled it out of his pocket, it was Gabe.
Gabe
When you’re all done with it, send me the doc and I’ll format it into a book with the cover I drew. You can send it to Ash for Christmas.
Brandon’s heart was a pinball, getting knocked around to rack up points, dropping between the flippers, and then getting shot right back into play.
Brandon
Thank you. You’re wonderful.
“That probably wraps it up,” Haruto said, giving the group the same kind smile he always brought to these meetings. “It’s been nice to be in a group with you folks.”
“Good luck with the end of your semesters! Take a nap, Gabe,” Chloe said with a wave. Brandon ended the Zoom as the others did and got an immediate text from Gabe.
Gabe
I really loved your story. I’m proud of you.
In hockey, when your teammates were also your competition and the stakes felt so high, it could be easy to feel like some of the guys you play with were a little fake.
Relationships didn’t always last long, especially in lower leagues before you made it to the NHL, and Brandon had a cordial work relationship with a lot of the guys on his team. Just passing through.
Gabe, on the other hand, felt so genuine. Real. He was always holding a magnifying glass up to Brandon, noticing things about him that no one had ever picked up on. Prodding him out of insecurities. He felt like a friend.
Brandon wondered what would happen if he stopped sending Gabe money or buying him things. Would they still be friends? Was Gabe only this nice to him because of the money?
He felt good being able to lighten Gabe’s load.
Brandon liked that he could order grocery delivery for him so he could eat healthier, and make sure he could finish his degree this year.
He didn’t want to stop, even though he knew he should be saving his money.
A hockey career could end at any time for any reason, and he wanted to go into the NHL feeling like he was making smart choices about his money.
And then he thought about how Gabe said he’d been getting more sleep.
How he had more energy because he was eating well and not trying to subsist off packaged stuff and whatever food he could get for free on campus or at the grocery store.
Brandon felt good—useful—when Gabe sent him photos of the premade meals he brought to work or school with him.
He drew a still life of one of them once on the back of a napkin, and Brandon saved the photo Gabe sent him of it but didn’t know how to ask for Gabe to save him the napkin, which he was sure Gabe tossed.
Gabe had problems that Brandon could solve. And that made him feel good.