Chapter 19 #2
“To new old friends.”
The sweetness of the cola mingles with something warmer in my chest as I drink.
Conversation swirls around us. Drew recounts the time Gerard accidentally set his own eyebrows on fire trying to light a birthday candle.
Nathan defends his protein-centric lifestyle choices.
Kyle threatens bodily harm to anyone who mentions his practicing dance moves in the shower.
But gradually, as the appetizers give way to entrées and the energy of our arrival settles into the comfortable rhythm of a meal shared among friends, the volume dims.
Our burgers arrive in red plastic baskets lined with checkered paper, the cheese perfectly melted, the buns toasted golden.
“So,” Oliver says, angling his body toward me as he picks up his burger. The movement creates a pocket of intimacy in the crowded booth, like we’re in our own little bubble. “Senior year. Last one. Kind of wild to think about.”
“What are you hoping for?” I ask, surprising myself with the question. Normally, I’d wait for someone else to carry the conversation, but something about tonight makes me braver. Whether it’s the music, the atmosphere, or Oliver’s shoulder, warm against mine, I couldn’t say.
Oliver takes a bite and chews thoughtfully.
“Honestly? I want us to win another championship. Four in a row would be insane. Historic, even.” He wipes a smear of ketchup from his lip with his thumb.
“But more than that, I want to leave the team in good shape. Make sure the freshmen are ready to step up. That Gerard doesn’t drive Kyle to actual homicide. ”
“A noble goal.”
“Someone’s gotta keep the peace.” He grins, then sobers slightly. “I also want to figure out what comes next. I’ve been so focused on hockey that I haven’t really thought about the ‘rest of my life’ part.”
“You’re a sports management major, right?”
“Yeah, but that’s such a broad field. Coaching? Front office? Agent work?” He shrugs. “I have too many options. It’s paralyzing sometimes.”
I nod, understanding more than he probably realizes. The weight of an uncertain future is something I know intimately.
“What about you?” Oliver asks, nudging my shoulder with his. “What’s Ryan Abrams excited about?”
The question catches me off guard. People don’t usually ask what excites me. They ask about my grades, my plans, my practical considerations. But excitement? That’s different.
“The lunar eclipse,” I say before I can second-guess myself. “At the end of the month. It’s going to be spectacular.”
Oliver’s eyebrows rise with genuine interest. “Yeah? Tell me about it.” He sets down his burger and gives me his full attention. “Seriously. Explain it to me like I’m a hockey player who knows nothing about space.”
“So, a regular Tuesday.”
“Smart ass. Go.”
I take a breath, and the words flow. “A lunar eclipse happens when the Earth passes directly between the sun and the moon. The Earth’s shadow falls across the lunar surface, and the moon goes dark—or rather, it turns this incredible reddish color.”
“Why red?”
“Because of Earth’s atmosphere.” I’m gesturing now, using my hands to demonstrate, completely forgetting to be self-conscious.
“When sunlight passes through our atmosphere, it gets filtered. The blue light scatters—that’s why the sky is blue during the day—but the red light bends around the curve of the Earth and reaches the moon.
So even though the moon is in Earth’s shadow, it’s being lit by all the sunrises and sunsets happening around the planet at that exact moment. ”
Oliver’s eyes widen slightly, the corners of his mouth lifting in that asymmetrical way they do when he’s genuinely surprised. He leans forward, elbows on the table, gaze never leaving my face as I speak.
“The ancient Greeks called it a ‘blood moon.’ Some cultures thought it was an omen. But really, it’s just geometry and physics and the way light behaves when it travels through gas.”
“You make science sound romantic.”
I duck my head, feeling the flush creep up my neck and spread across my cheeks like spilled watercolor.
“I—I find it fascinating. The idea that we can predict these things centuries in advance. That the same eclipse that terrified ancient civilizations is now something we can explain, can anticipate, can appreciate for what it actually is.”
“When exactly is it happening?”
“The twenty-seventh. Peak totality around two a.m. If the skies are clear, it’ll be visible for almost an hour.”
“We should watch it. I mean, if you want. You could explain what’s happening in real time. Make sure I don’t embarrass myself by asking stupid questions.”
“There are no stupid questions about astronomy.”
“Ryan, I once asked my high school physics teacher if the sun was hot.”
I choke on a laugh. “Okay, that’s a stupid question.”
“See? I need supervision.”
Across the table, Gerard’s voice cuts through our bubble. “Speaking of moons,” he announces loudly, “did you know that my buttocks have been compared to the moon? Multiple times. The Ice Queen even said it. That’s basically the same as a lunar eclipse, right? My butt blocking out the sun?”
“Gerard,” Elliot says flatly, “your butt does not cause astronomical phenomena.”
“It does too! People stop and stare! That’s a phenomenon!”
“It is categorically not the same thing.” Elliot’s voice drops into something dangerous. “And if you interrupt Ryan’s private conversation again, I’m going to make you regret it.”
Gerard’s eyes go wide. “Is that a threat or a promise?”
“It’s a guarantee that Principal Montgomery won’t be making an appearance later tonight if you don’t focus on your dinner.”
The effect is immediate. Gerard’s ears turn pink, his mouth snaps shut, and he suddenly becomes very interested in his blue-cheese-free burger. He takes an enormous bite and chews with exaggerated focus, not making eye contact with anyone.
Kyle stares at this display with undisguised horror. “I don’t want to know what that means.”
“You really don’t,” Elliot confirms.
Oliver leans close to my ear. “Principal Montgomery is apparently Elliot’s bedroom authority figure persona. Gerard has a thing for being disciplined.”
“I gathered.”
“It’s disturbing but also kind of impressive. Elliot has him trained well.”
I glance at Gerard, who is now eating his fries one by one, desperately trying to behave.
“So,” Oliver says, drawing my attention back. “The twenty-seventh. Two a.m. You, me, and a blood moon.”
“You’re serious?”
“Completely.” His green eyes hold mine, steady and warm. “I want to learn about the things you care about, Ryan. I want to understand what makes you light up, talking about sunlight bending through the atmosphere.”
“I’d like that,” I manage. “Teaching you, I mean, about the eclipse.”
“Then it’s a date.” Oliver’s smile is softer than I’ve ever seen it. “An astronomical date. The nerdiest date in the history of dates.”
“I think the nerdiest date would involve a planetarium.”
“Don’t give me ideas. I’d love to see you get excited about star projections.”
The band shifts into another song, and the dance floor slows as couples draw closer together. The melody drifts over us, sweet and yearning, and Oliver’s thigh presses more firmly against mine under the table.
Whatever this is blossoming between us—friendship, something more, something I’m too terrified to name—it’s happening. And I’m leaning in.