Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Alex: I have an idea.
Mitch: Does it involve phone sex?
Alex: No. I mean, now it does but… No. Listen. There’s a café in the Channel District that’s looking to hire full-time employees for the summer. I know the owner. I could put in a good word for you? It’s minimum wage, but it’s full-time plus tips.
Mitch: Is this your way of asking me to move in with you?
Alex: I’m going to take that as a yes.
Mitch: How far of a drive is it?
Alex: It’s a five-minute walk. I live in the Channel District.
Mitch: Don’t be mad but…can I talk to Cody first?
Alex: Why would I be mad? I can put in a good word for him too.
Mitch: Huh?
Alex: He can have the guest room in the loft. It means you and I won’t have much privacy, but…
Mitch: Are you for real?
Alex: You think I don’t know that you come as a package deal?
Mitch: Cody’s in!
Alex: That was fast. Did you even ask him?
Mitch: Yeah. He’s right here. He’s texting you now.
Alex: What’s YTFBE?
Mitch: Cody-speak for you’re the fucking best ever.
* * *
Despite the team finally coming together over the last month and a half after a dismal start to the second semester, the Glen Hill College Mountaineers were officially done for the season as of the first weekend in March.
They didn’t make it to the Frozen Four. Hell, they didn’t make it to the Hockey East Quarterfinals.
They played in the Hockey East Opening Round and lost twice against Providence.
It was a bitter end to the season, especially for the graduating seniors.
Mitch, however, still had two years of college left, which meant two more tries for the championship.
He dragged his feet into the house on Saturday night after losing Game Two and stood in the kitchen, staring aimlessly at the island counter.
Cody had dropped him off before leaving again to pick up their to-go pizza at Mama Jean’s, but in the meantime Mitch had reading to catch up on, a creative writing assignment to start, and three—count ‘em, three—lab reports due next week.
All he wanted to do was to pass out on the couch. It looked so inviting with all those couch pillows. He could sink into it and be asleep in less than a minute.
Stomach gnawing at him, he dropped his equipment bag right there in the middle of the kitchen and sank onto one of the barstools before he swayed off his feet.
He was running on maybe twenty hours of sleep this week total, and had eaten nothing but protein bars and smoothies. Alex would be appalled.
Speaking of Alex... Mitch got his phone out of his pocket, ignored the message from his mom, and gave Alex a call, but it went right to voicemail.
Right. Alex was playing in a different time zone tonight.
Dallas? Or was tonight the night of Alex’s team’s annual end of season charity game?
Fuck, Mitch couldn’t remember and was too tired to care.
All he knew was that he wanted Alex here.
He missed sex with Alex, sure, but more than that, he missed talking to him, cuddling with him. He missed being able to reach out and touch him or kiss him whenever he wanted. He missed Alex’s strong arms and steady, calming eyes. Alex propped him up. And right now, Mitch felt like he was falling.
Shit, he really was falling. Off the barstool, that was. Had he fallen asleep sitting up? He was so damn hungry, and his hands trembled from lack of food. He’d eaten today, hadn’t he?
His vision darkened when he got up for a glass of water to wet his dry mouth.
Any second now, his stomach was going to claw its way out of his body in search of food.
Limbs heavy, he walked back to his stool with his water.
Jesus, had he played like this? Lightheaded and nauseated?
No, he’d been alert for the game, he was sure.
It had been afterward that the exhaustion had hit, with the loss hanging heavy over his head, and the too-busy last three weeks catching up with him.
Three weeks since Valentine’s Day and his weekend at Alex’s.
They talked every day and although it wasn’t the same, it made Mitch feel closer to him.
He missed the counter trying to set his water down, and the glass fell to the floor, shattering into tiny shards against the ceramic tile.
The sound was loud in the otherwise quiet house, maximized by the throb already pounding behind Mitch’s eyes.
He sighed miserably and considered leaving it there, but he didn’t want Cody to come home and step in it.
He got the broom and dustpan from the closet and the garbage can from underneath the sink.
But when he bent over to sweep the glass, his vision grayed and went dark.
* * *
The lights were too bright when he woke up on an uncomfortable bed that was barely wide enough to hold him and there were people in his room.
His dad, sitting on the windowsill and plugging away at his iPhone.
Cody, lounging in a chair with his head tilted back, mouth open in sleep.
And Alex, pacing a path from one end of the tiny room to the other.
Mitch must’ve made a sound because all three heads turned to him at once.
“What?” he croaked.
“Hey, kiddo.” His dad came over to him and took his hand. “How’re you feeling?”
“I…” How had he ended up in the hospital? Last thing he remembered was coming home from the game. Cody dropped him off and he went inside and… What?
In his confusion, he said, “Where’s the pizza? And how did you get here so fast?”
“Took the first flight out,” his dad said, patting his hand.
“No, I mean…” He looked at Alex.
“My answer’s the same as your dad’s,” Alex said, a growl to his voice, the anger underlying his movements palpable. He continued to pace, barely glancing in Mitch’s direction.
Something was wrong. What had he done to make Alex so angry with him? Nothing made sense. Had he gotten in an accident? “Did I hurt someone?”
“Just yourself,” Alex snapped.
“I… What?”
“Kiddo. You fainted. Do you remember?” His dad gestured to Cody. “Cody found you and called nine-one-one.”
Their conversation had woken Cody and he stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, his glower making his eyes burn. He was clearly as pissed as Alex.
“I thought you were dead, you asshole,” Cody growled. “I even stabbed you with your damn EpiPen.”
That was probably why his thigh hurt. “Did I get stung?”
“No. But I thought you might’ve.”
“In March?”
Cody threw up his hands. “What else was I supposed to think with you lying facedown in the kitchen in a pool of broken glass with a cut on your forehead? I didn’t know you’d passed out from fucking exhaustion.”
Is that what had happened?
“Wait.” Alex finally stopped moving. “You’re allergic to…bees?”
“Yeah,” Mitch said. “There’s an EpiPen in my backpack.” He looked around for his backpack, but it wasn’t anywhere in sight. “Or there was.” Fuck, he was so confused.
Alex stared at him head-on. “You didn’t think that’s something I should know? God, your short story makes so much more sense now.”
Had Mitch written a short story before passing out? It didn’t seem likely, but his brain was fuzzy.
Alex released a long sigh and headed for the door. “I’m going to get the nurse.” He was gone a second later.
“He’s so mad at me,” Mitch said. And burst into tears.
He was tired, he was confused, and combined with Alex’s abandonment, Mitch was just done.
But Alex was back less than a minute later, a tall nurse in turquoise scrubs in tow.
Alex took one look at Mitch’s face and his eyes widened in absolute horror.
It would’ve been funny under different circumstances.
Cody patted Mitch’s leg through the thin hospital blanket. “Don’t worry,” he said to Alex. “He only gets overly emotional when he’s exhausted.”
“How are you feeling?” the nurse asked as she fiddled with the baggie attached to his IV.
Mitch blew his nose with the tissue his dad passed him and nodded at his hand.
“My hand is throbbing. Whoever put the IV in is incompetent. My thigh hurts, but I figure that’s where Cody stabbed me with the EpiPen.
My forehead itches—” He probed it with his non-IV hand, only to find a small butterfly bandage over a cut.
“—but it’s not going to kill me. I have a headache that’s about a seven, a desire to nap for a year, and confusion that’s the size of the state. ”
The nurse blinked at him. “That was, uh, very thorough.”
His dad, Alex, and Cody all snorted in unison. It made Mitch give a watery giggle even though he had no idea what was so funny.
“The doctor will be in to speak with you in a few minutes,” the nurse said and left.
Mitch struggled to sit up, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. His dad took pity on him and lifted the bed. Once Mitch was semi-vertical, he said, “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”
“You fainted from exhaustion last night after the game,” his dad said, taking Cody’s vacated seat. “Cody found you and called nine-one-one. You woke up a few times since then, but this is the first time you’ve been aware.”
“I don’t remember that.” Mitch rubbed his forehead. “Wait. Last night? How long have I been out?”
“Almost seven hours. It’s six in the morning.”
Mitch shifted, wincing when his IV pulled.
His dad and Alex must’ve taken the red-eye.
He clenched his jaw and tried to find a comfortable position in the lumpy bed.
Punched his pillow a few times to fluff it up.
Kicked his blanket off. His hospital gown was bunched around his thighs, and they’d even removed his briefs for fuck’s sake, leaving his dick bobbing in the air, all do-si-do.
If waking up in the hospital wasn’t bad enough, he’d just flashed his entire family.
“I—”
“I see my patient’s awake,” the doctor said, coming through the door and interrupting what would’ve been a truly petulant I wanna go home. “How are you feeling?”
Pissed. Embarrassed. Overwhelmed. And frankly, a little scared.