Chapter 39
FEE
“Ican’t believe you planned an after-party.” I’m standing in Mac’s kitchen surrounded by my friends.
Cammie hugs me. “As if we’d let this monumental moment pass without a celebration.”
“Was this all you guys?” I motion to the bunting hanging from the ceiling that reads OBSESSED WITH OUVRE OBSESSION! A collection of my posters from this semester are tacked to the wall under it. Based on the thoughtful layout, that was all Mac.
“The guys were a big help, and Mac was highly involved,” Tally explains.
Mac glances my way, as if he senses my attention on him.
He’s sitting at the kitchen table with the guys—except for Gage, who had to duck out to deal with a situation involving his sister’s bestie.
Mac brought me a drink a while ago, but he’s giving me space to celebrate with my girlfriends.
The conversation I promised him is coming, and with all the effort he’s gone to, I’m confident about the outcome.
“Seriously, it was so cool to see all your fans come out and support you,” Cammie says.
“How do you feel now that you’re out there?” Enid asks.
“It was overwhelming at first, but having all of you there helped a lot. Now that the stress of it is over, I’m excited to really own my work.”
“It’s freeing, isn’t it,” Cammie says.
“And affirming.” For a long time, I’ve been protective of my art. It’s strongly connected to my mom and her memory, and I wanted to keep it close. But sharing it makes me feel even closer to her, and I don’t want to hide myself anymore.
“We’re so glad you took the leap.” Tally bumps my shoulder.
I glance over to where Mac was sitting a few minutes ago, thinking it might be time to take another leap of faith, but he’s not there anymore.
Disappointment washes over me for a moment until he returns carrying a huge box.
He sets it on the kitchen table and motions me over. “We need you over here, Ophelia.”
I narrow one eye at him even as my heart stutters. “What’s this?” I tap the lid.
He pulls out the chair in front of him. “Come find out.”
I slide into the seat as our friends gather around the table, all of them smiling.
“We’re super proud of you, Fee,” Cammie says.
“We know it takes a lot of guts to share your art, and we’re so glad other people get to experience your talent.” Mac settles a gentle hand on my shoulder and flips the lid open.
Inside the box is a huge cake with CONGRATULATIONS! scrawled across it. Beneath the lettering is a scrapbook style collage of my art that mirrors the ones under the bunting and Mac’s bedroom. “You guys! This is amazing!”
“Mac took all your art and had a sugar overlay made. One of Rix’s friends made the cake,” Cammie explains.
“We need photos!” If there’s anything I’ve learned from losing my parents, it’s that snapshots of my world and my friends are wildly, unequivocally essential.
My friends gather around me and I grab Mac’s hand, pulling him next to me. I duck under his arm, and he curves it around my shoulder. I smile up at him, loving how good it feels to be close to him again. “Thank you for this.”
“I just wanted you to know how special you are.”
It’s only been a handful of days, but I’ve missed him. Despite the scary unknowns, I don’t want to push him away.
“Say cheese!” Todd calls out and we smile for the camera, my whole group surrounding me. I feel so fortunate to have such amazing friends and a twinge of sadness hits me, because so many of them are graduating at the end of the semester. But I promise myself that I’ll enjoy the ride.
Mac passes me an unreasonably large slice, and I only manage to eat half of it, but I’m unwilling to give it up because the cake has almost been completely devoured.
“Why don’t we put Saran Wrap on it and hide it in the fridge in my room?” Mac suggests, looking hopeful.
“That’s a great idea.” He grabs the plastic wrap and laces our fingers, guiding me upstairs.
“Can I close the door?” he asks once we’re in his room.
“Yeah, of course.” I breathe in the familiar scent: a combination of his cologne, shampoo, and laundry detergent.
I set the cake on top of his fridge and turn to face him, starting with the bold truth.
“I’ve never been in a relationship where we need to have this kind of conversation and it’s scary. ”
“It’s scary for me, too. I can handle conflict on the ice, but this is different.” He runs a hand through his hair, eyes soft. “I don’t want to lose you, Fee.”
“I don’t want to lose you either.” The thought makes my heart ache.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I applied to the overseas programs. I should’ve been honest about it from the beginning.”
“I understand why you didn’t, though, and that it wasn’t about a lack of trust. I know my reaction was probably difficult for you, and I’m sorry that we had to wait almost a week to talk it through, but I have a lot of big feelings for you and about you, Mac.
” I breathe through the tightness in my chest. If we’re going to make this work, we have to work through the things that scare us.
“Losing my parents was so hard, and sometimes it still feels really fresh. I get kind of…punchy about things I can’t control?
Logically, I realize the better route isn’t to cut and run, but the pain of missing my parents can be so overwhelming sometimes…
I’m terrified to lose someone I care about like that again.
And when I saw those applications, I just kind of...
panicked. All I could think about was how hard it would be to be separated from you like that and I got stuck in the spiral.
” It’s something I’ll have to work on, but even just telling Mac makes it better.
“I know you can’t make promises of forever, neither of us can.
I’m just explaining how it made me feel when I found the applications.
We’ve grown so close so quickly. The idea of you going away for the summer, and possibly ending up on a team outside of Ontario, or even Canada, too…
” I exhale the rush of emotion. “I was overwhelmed and scared, and I didn’t know how to handle it. ”
“I wish I could have a do-over for the last week. I was scared to tell you because I didn’t want to upset you, and I realized I was shying away from a potential argument.
” He sighs. “When my parents used to get into it, they would have these yelling matches followed by days of tense silence, and I hated it so much. I’ve spent my life trying to avoid that scenario because of how awful it was for me, but I know we’re not like them, and I’m learning that avoiding conflict just causes more hurt.
” He sits on the edge of his bed and lays his hand on the comforter palm up.
I take the spot next to him and settle my hand in his. “I think we’re both figuring things out.”
“I just want to be with you, Fee. I don’t know what the future holds, where I’ll be this summer, or if I’ll even get called up after graduation, but whatever happens, I want to figure it out with you.”
I turn and tuck my leg under me. “I want the same thing.”
He exhales a relieved breath and presses his forehead against mine. “I was so scared I’d fucked this up too much to fix.”
I curve my hand around the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I made you wait to talk things through.”
“Don’t be. We both needed the time to process.” He pulls back. “Can we talk about what we want this relationship to look like?”
“Yeah. Yes. Absolutely.” My stomach somersaults, but not in a bad way.
“I like sleepovers with you, but I don’t think I can have them every night because when we’re in bed together, I also want to have sex, because it feels good, and the connection is like…addicting,” he admits.
“You’re also not into the quickie at this point, and that makes it really tough to get enough sleep,” I finish for him.
“Exactly! Like maybe in a year, when I’m used to the way sex feels.” He blows out a breath, cheeks flushed. “But I’m not yet.”
“Okay, so no sleepovers before big tests or games, and of course this is open for revisiting every couple of months,” I suggest.
“That sounds smart. Obviously no keeping things from each other,” he adds.
“Agreed. You’re my boyfriend and my best friend, so I want to be able to tell you the truth, even if it scares me.”
“Same. I really love you, Fee.” He laces our fingers. “What do you want to do if I get into one of the programs overseas? Would you want to try to make the long distance work?”
“I would want to try.”
“Okay. Me, too.” He blows out a relieved breath.
“But if either of us is struggling with the distance, we can assess and adjust?” I offer, struggling not to let my fears of the future get between us again.
“Yeah.” His fingers tighten around mine. “I really hope I get into a local program so we can be close this summer.”
“I want that, too,” I agree. “So maybe let’s manifest it?”
“For real.” His thumb sweeps across my knuckles. “What else?”
“We never end a call angry,” I whisper. “Or go to bed angry.”
He brings my hand to his lips. “Never. Life is too precious to end a day in a bad mood.”
“Sometimes my feelings overwhelm me, and I need space to process them. It doesn’t mean I’m upset or angry, and I’ll do my best to make sure you know that,” I admit.
“Is it okay if I still check on you when you’re feeling overwhelmed?” he asks.
“Yeah, of course.” I shift so my knee touches his shin. “What about what you need?”
“Just some patience, I guess? I’ve never been in love before. I’m going to get stuff wrong, but as long as you can be honest with me, and we can talk things through, I think we’ll be okay?”
“I think so, too.”
“Can I hug you now?” Mac asks.
“Yes, please.”
He pulls me into his lap, and I bury my face in his neck and breathe in the comfort of this closeness. We survived our first argument and came out the other side stronger for it.
The calm is interrupted by the buzz of our phones.
Mac groans. “Our friends have realized we’re missing.”
“Seems that way.”
“They’ll be relentless until we come back down, won’t they?”
“Invariably, yes.”
I sigh.
Mac squeezes me, then lets me go. “You’ll sleep over tonight?”
“Ten out of ten, yes.”
“We’ll indulge them for like half an hour, then we can come back up here, and I can love you until we’re too tired to keep our eyes open?” he asks.
“Again, ten out of ten.”
“Then let’s do what we must,” he sighs, then grins.
We wrap my cake so it doesn’t get stale and put it in Mac's fridge, then head back to our friends. We hang out in the kitchen for a while, but Cammie is happy drunk and wants to dance, which means I get pulled into the middle of the living room. Chase and Mac join us.
Cammie and Chase get lost in their own little world, bodies pressed together, his lips at her ear, a smile tipping the corner of her mouth.
Mac moves in behind me, arm wrapped around my waist as his hips sway with mine.
I lift one arm and curve my hand around the back of his neck, tipping my head slightly.
His hair tickles my cheek as he lightly drags his lips up the column of my throat.
“We’re going back upstairs soon,” Mac murmurs.
“When this song ends,” I agree.
The front door bursts open and Gage walks in, rolling two bright pink suitcases behind him. A girl I recognize from movie night follows on his heels. She too is laden with bags.
“A little help here, guys,” Gage demands.
The music stops, and Mac and Brody rush in to take a bag from the girl.
She looks slightly horrified, and tired, and overwhelmed.
“Everyone, this is Andie, my sister’s best friend. Andie, this is everyone. Those two who just took your bags are Brody and Mac. They’re your new roommates. Guys, Andie’s moving into my closet.”