“So?” he asks.
I take a slow breath in until my lungs can’t hold any more air. I hold it for a few long seconds, and close my eyes on the exhale. “Ah, I don’t know. Sleeping on the dock for a few days in the dead of winter sounds kind of appealing. The dining hall will be closed, so I’ll get to practice my ice fishing. I didn’t do Boy Scouts or learn how to start a fire, so I’ll have to fucking … Sméagol that shit. And—” I open my eyes to find Cauler grinning at me. “You’re not stopping me.”
“It’s nice hearing you talk when you’re not being a total shithead.”
Don’t think too much into it.
“You call that not being a shithead?” I ask.
“No, that was you being a little shit.”
I roll my eyes, groaning. “I’m gonna regret this.”
He squeezes my hip. “That mean you’ll come?”
“I suppose.”
He was complaining about my breath a few minutes ago, but that doesn’t stop him from kissing me now.
TWENTY-FOUR
Finals are over, and there is nothing I can do now but obsessively refresh until my grades are posted. I feel pretty alright about biology, and I know I got a perfect score on my Italian exam, but algebra is a toss-up. My final paper for college writing was a mess. I think I’ll be good as far as staying above 2.0, but I want to do better than that.
I want to hit Dorian and Cauler levels of academic success. It’s not gonna happen in the span of two semesters, but at least it’s something to strive for.
Watching Dorian and Barbie load their bags into the Lyft is damn near soul-crushing. This is gonna be an abbreviated break. Not the whole month most of the student body gets. But it feels like I’m seeing them for the last time.
Jesus.
What’s it gonna be like to leave them in May?
I don’t even want to think about it.
Dorian hugs me tight, saying, “We survived our first semester, dude! We can only go up from here.”
Barbie claps me on the back, then thinks better of it and pulls me into a hug. He’s so tall, I feel like a toddler in his arms.
Once they’re gone, Cauler and I load our own bags into Zero’s car. Zero’s got one more exam to go before he drives us all to Boston later tonight, so the two of us pass the time in my room.
He’s tugging off my jeans when my phone vibrates. I push it off the bed onto the floor and ignore it.
He’s pulling his shirt over his head, knees on either side of my hips, when it goes off again, and pushing my hands down into the pillows the third time.
“Something’s wrong,” he mumbles. “You’re not this popular.”
“Fuck you. It’s probably Dorian updating me. I asked him to check in when he gets to the airport.”
“How domestic of you.”
We get another minute or two to ourselves before a video call comes through on my laptop, loud and upbeat and intrusive and relentless. We ignore it for a whole minute before Cauler gives up, groans, and rolls off me.
“Go see who it is,” he says, burying his face in my pillows.
“I don’t wanna,” I whine. But the ringing doesn’t stop.
“Go.” Cauler pushes me toward the edge of the bed and I get up, grumbling as I pull on the nearest pair of sweatpants on the floor. Of course they’re Cauler’s, long enough that I almost trip over them on my way to the desk.
I run my fingers through my hair and try to make it less obvious what I was just doing as I throw myself into my desk chair. “Shit,” I mutter at the sight of Madison’s picture on my computer screen. She never initiates contact. I accept the call and it takes a moment of lag before the video connects.
And it’s not Madison looking at me.
It’s Dad.
The video is frozen on his look of desperation for a second, like he was so sure I wasn’t gonna answer. “Hey, bud!” he calls out, and the image jumps and stretches a few times before his face catches up to his words.
I can feel how wide my eyes are. How tightly my jaw clenches even as I try so hard to keep the panic from showing. I haven’t talked to him since that game back in November. He’s called and texted and I’ve ignored and ignored and now it’s so awkward I kind of want to puke.
I glance at Cauler, almost naked in my bed, lying on his stomach with the pillow bunched under his chin. There’s concern on his face that I don’t deserve. Not with so many people out there who have much worse parents than me.
“Mickey? You hear me?” Dad asks.
I turn my attention back to him and try to speak, but my voice gets stuck in my throat. I clear it and try again. “Yeah. Hi.”
“I’m glad you picked up. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah.”
Dad opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything at first, looking like he feels just as uncomfortable as I do. He takes a deep breath, and when he looks down and rubs the back of his neck, I can almost see myself in him. I’m not as good at masking my discomfort as I used to be.
“So…” He still doesn’t look at me, keeping his eyes down or off to the side, anywhere but my face. “There was a lot I wanted to talk to you about. But I think it’d be better to do it in person. Your sisters are flying out in the morning. How would you feel about joining them?”
I feel repulsed, that’s how I feel.
“Little late to buy a ticket,” I say.
“I already took care of it. Why do you think I called so much?”
My bed creaks as Cauler sits up, and I look over to see him settle with his back against the wall, head tilted back, staring at Dorian’s side of the room. I can’t read his face. Is that disappointment or impatience? Maybe he’s just hungry.
I don’t know him at all. But here I was planning to go meet his family.
I swallow, bite the inside of my cheek.
I’ll get to see my sisters. All of them. That’s the only positive here.
“How long?” I ask.
“I want you here as long as you can be.”
I put my face in my hands and sigh heavily. My chest aches. I can barely process what’s happening. Seven-plus years being my freaking long-distance hockey coach and now he’s trying to be a dad?
But … I want it. I want the chance to have a family again.
I rub my hands over my face. Rake them through my hair. My voice croaks when I say, “Okay.”
Dad smiles, his shoulders sagging in relief. As if I even had a choice when he already went and bought a ticket behind my back.
“Great,” he says all breathlessly. “Bailey has the flight information. It’s an early one. Get some sleep.”
He signs off so quick it’s like he had his finger hovering over the button this whole time. I stare at the screen for a solid ten seconds before Cauler says, “You okay?”
I push myself to my feet. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s your family.”
He watches me as I swap out his pants for my own and finish getting dressed. Doesn’t try to interfere, which is good ’cause I can’t handle shit right now.
“Gonna get my bags outta Zero’s car,” I say.
“Want help?”
“No.” I zip my jacket all the way to my chin. Hide in my hood. Leave him behind. Pull out my phone and immediately message Bailey.
Mickey: This is your fault.
Bailey: Yep.
Mickey: Fuck you bailey.
Bailey: Get over yourself mickey.
You’ve been ignoring him for weeks.
I was on the phone with him for over an
hour last night with him panicking
about how if he didn’t get to talk to you soon he’d probably never get a chance to fix things As if anything needs to be fixed.
Mickey: A lot more than you think Bailey: Well congrats now you have a chance to air out all your petty childish grievances Mickey: I hate you
Bailey: I know how much you like to pretend you’ve had some horrible life full of endless suffering but it’s time to grow up mickey.
Mom and dad love you.
That’s a lot more than other people get.
Mickey: Real easy for you to say.
Our parents actually raised you.
TWENTY-FIVE