Chapter 14 #5
The last block back to Beaumont was the loneliest of my life. And Rikker must not have gotten my message until late. Or else he wasn’t alone. Because he didn’t call back.
The next day had me feeling pretty stir-crazy.
After spending way too many hours trying to get me ready for the history midterm, Mom and I were annoyed with each other.
We’d just come back from a bite out at the sushi place.
I’m sure she would have left me alone for the evening already, except she’d left her book in my room.
“And that’s what I usually do after I read to you all day,” she said. “Read some more.”
“I’m sorry, Ma,” I said. It didn’t sound like fun for her either.
She just smiled. “I know we’ve had a couple of tough weeks, and that your head still aches. But a couple of years from now I’m going to look back on this time like a gift. When your kids grow up, they don’t need you anymore. I don’t mind a bit of drudgery for one more shot at helping you.”
At that, I felt myself tearing up again. Oh, the joys of concussion. Everything made me either mad or turned me into a total pussy.
I turned on my TV, sifting for a hockey game. Although I’d settle for basketball if necessary. Mom was gathering her things when somebody knocked.
“It’s open,” I said.
Rikker came in the door. “Hey G. Hi, Mrs. G.”
“Johnny! Congratulations!” My mom ran over to hug him.
I stayed put, of course. It’s not that I didn’t want a hug. But there wasn’t going to be any kind of PDA in front of my mom. Ever.
“You look tired, honey,” Mom said to Rikker.
He grinned. “Well, ouch. But you look fabulous.”
She ruffled his hair. “Tell your coach that he has to keep to the twenty hour rule, even during the post-season.”
“I will fire off that memo first thing,” he said, his dimple showing. “But before I do, I came to drag your son off to Capri’s for a couple of hours.”
“I don’t think so,” I said quickly.
Rikker crossed the room and took the remote out of my hand. He muted the TV and crossed his arms. “I know you feel like crap every night. But getting out of here might do you some good.”
“Maybe another time.”
He put my remote in his back pocket. “It will be quiet there tonight. Sunday night and all. Seems perfect to me.”
I lunged, but he anticipated me, weaving to the side well before I could get to him. And I wasn’t willing to tackle my boyfriend in front of my mother.
“You should go, Mikey,” she said gently. “Johnny is right.”
Great. Now the Mom-guilt was kicking in. “Naw. You go ahead, Rik.”
His face got serious, and he sat down on my desk chair. “Come on, G. I'll make a deal with you. You go to Capri's, and I’ll stay away tonight. God knows I see enough of that place.”
Way to make me feel like a total asshole. And I could feel my mother watching us, wondering why he would offer to do that. “That's not cool, Rik.” I mumbled. “It’s your celebration.”
“And yours.”
I shook my head.
“Your friends are going to wonder why you’re ducking them. I mean, they’re playing for the Eastern cup next week. Show your face.”
Ugh. I couldn’t even look up at my mom. She just stood there, silent, listening to Rikker and me have this disagreement.
Walking into Capri’s with Rikker at my side wasn’t something I wanted to do.
But I couldn’t ask him to stay away from the we-just-clinched-the-conference party, either.
I was a jackass. But I wasn’t that big of a jackass.
“We'll both go,” I said finally.
Rikker’s smile lit up his whole face. “Get your jacket.”
I’m not proud of the way that I broke into the cold sweats as Rikker pushed the door open and stepped inside. Daft Punk was playing on the sound system, but the beat was drowned out by one of the Capri brothers’ voices calling “pie number thirty-seven!” over the intercom.
I don’t know what I was expecting, exactly. But the room did not go absolutely silent when Rikker and I walked into that place together. Nobody turned to point and stare. The ground did not drop out from under my feet and swallow me up.
Rikker was on to me, of course. He knew me too well. So, after we passed the pizza counter, he paused in the doorway to our usual room to talk to Orson. Without a glance in my direction, he let me pass by, working my way toward the three or four tables the hockey team had commandeered.
“Hey!” Hartley crowed. “Does anybody recognize this guy? He looks vaguely familiar.”
“He needs a glass,” someone said.
There was an open seat at Bridger McCaulley’s table, and so I slid in next to his eight-year-old sister, Lucy. “Hi there,” I said to her.
“Hi Graham. I thought you were hurt.” Her freckled face tilted up toward mine, her eyes scanning me for injuries.
“My head was injured, and it’s not done healing,” I told her. “Still hurts.”
“Looks the same, though,” she said, setting down the crust of her pizza.
“Good to know,” I told her, and Bridger laughed.
Someone poured me a beer, and I relaxed a little bit. How many times had I sat here like this, listening to the evening’s latest smack talk? A hundred? Two hundred? I’d missed this. I sipped my beer, soaking up the sound of my teammates’ arguments and laughter.
Bridger and Lucy went home, but Bella took the empty seat instead. “Hi, Sweetie,” she said, teasing a straw wrapper around her finger. “You look a little better than the last time I saw you.”
I fiddled with my beer glass. “That’s because the last time you saw me was not so recently.”
She popped a hand under her chin. “Your mom is here.”
“So?”
Her green eyes rose to meet mine. But her voice dropped so low I could barely hear her. “It’s hard for me, okay?” It was just five words. But they said a lot.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. And it was the truth. I’d basically lost my best friend, and there was nothing to be done about it. I’d spent whole years of my life wishing that I could be attracted to Bella, or any other girl. But it just wasn’t there.
Still, I wanted to explain myself. “The reason we stopped…” I cleared my throat.
“…Fucking,” Bella prompted.
I sighed. “The reason we stopped, is because I was a mess.”
Her eyes grew shiny. “And you knew I was hung up on you?”
I gave my head such a hard shake that it actually hurt. “No. I didn’t know that at all. But I cared about you. You’re just about my favorite person at Harkness. And even though I kept hoping I could change, I didn’t want to keep dragging you through my little charade.”
Her eyes dropped to the tabletop. “I was pretty far gone already.”
I covered both her hands with mine, and squeezed. “Seriously, Bella. If I was into girls, you’d be the only one for me.”
“Don’t make me cry, you dick,” she said, wrestling a hand from mine to wipe her eyes. But she gave me a shaky smile then.
“Fine,” I told her. “But come over here and sit next to me. For old times’ sake.”
Wearing a grudging expression, Bella maneuvered around the table to sit next to me. And then the other side of the booth was taken up by Pepé and Frenchie, who told us a story about getting locked out of their hotel room at Colgate.
I didn’t say much all night. The music made my head hurt, and I nursed my beer like somebody’s grandmother.
You wouldn’t know it to look at me, but I was happy just sitting there letting the game stats and the smack talk roll over me.
Rikker was right that I’d been ducking this.
I’d been afraid to look my teammates in the face, because I didn’t know what would look back at me.
But I did it, and nobody died. There were a few curious glances coming my way. But it was hard to say whether those were the result of speculation about my head injury or speculation about my sex life.
Rikker stayed away from me, which was easy enough to do when there were three-dozen people in the mix. I caught him glancing at me once, probably checking to make sure that I was doing all right. Busted, he actually winked and then turned back to the conversation he was having with Trevi.
I watched Rikker for a while then, forgetting to care whether anyone saw.
The easy set of his muscular shoulders was something I always noticed about him.
He moved like a man who was comfortable in his body.
And that didn’t change whether he was walking naked across the bedroom toward me, or standing in a bar with his teammates.
I was attracted to it, and I envied it. All at the same time.
Tonight it was almost possible to be all the parts of me at once. The part that loved Rikker, and the part that insisted on being the same old Michael Graham.
I started to get really drowsy around ten, so I said my goodbyes. Then I walked outside and texted Rikker. I’m out front. Wait 4 U or go home?
A minute later, he answered me by coming out the front door. We both said “hey,” at exactly the same time.
Rikker grinned. “The jinx machine is out of order. Please put in another quarter.” Turning toward College Street, we headed into the night. “Was it okay?” he asked.
“Absolutely.” Then, after verifying that we were alone, I grabbed his hand. Bringing it up to my lips, I kissed his knuckles before dropping his hand again. “Thank you,” I said, my voice rough.
“No sweat.” I couldn’t tell from his voice, but I’d probably stunned him with even that miserly show of affection.
When we approached the turnoff to Bank Street, and Rikker’s dorm, I went even further. “Come home with me?”
He followed, wordlessly. Before, I’d never said it out loud. And we’d never walked into Beaumont together.
I hoped he knew that I was trying.
We were both awfully quiet on the way back to my room. I opened the door, and he stepped inside. Once it was closed and locked behind us, I put my arms around him. For a long minute we just stood there, holding each other.
“You were brave tonight,” he whispered.
“Brave is driving a tank in Afghanistan,” I argued quietly. “Brave is stealing the puck from a Red Wings defenseman.”
He chuckled into my ear. “Kiss me, moron.”