Page 27 of Daydream

“Most things? What are you bad at?”

“I’m not telling you that,” he says instantly. “Mainly because I can’t think of anything. I was trying to be humble.”

“I appreciate the honesty, but I don’t think we can mess this up. We just need to stick to the rules and follow the recipe and all should be well.”

He scoops some buttercream I’ve mixed with his thumb, licking it off slowly. “Following rules might be on the list of things I’m not great at.”

“Well, you’re lucky I’m a habitual rule keeper.”

He sighs, but he’s smiling at me. I’m smiling back, trying not to start laughing, and I don’t even know why. “Weird use of the wordlucky.”

Chapter NineHENRY

“TURNER, MY OFFICE!” COACH YELLSinto the locker room.

There’s a chorus of “ooooooooos” from my teammates, which I ignore as I walk past them all in the direction of Faulkner’s office.

“Take a seat,” he says, not looking up from whatever he’s writing. I watch his untidy scribble mark the page over and over before he eventually stops and sits back in his seat to look at me. That’s the thing with Faulkner: he couldn’t make it clearer that he does not give a shit about anyone’s time but his own.

“How do you think things are going?” he asks casually.

“I think I wish JJ and Joe were still here,” I say honestly. “But I think we’re in a much better place than we were. Matthews and Garcia are working hard—I’ve talked to both of them. I think we’ll be okay next week.”

“Okay or great? Because I need you to be great, Turner.”

I want to let out a loud, tired groan, but I don’t. I hate this side of things. Of course I want us to be great; the entire team wants us to be great. It’s almost like if I don’t hit the buzzwords then I’m not doing things right. Why does it matter if I say okay or great? I want us to win and so does everyone else.

“I think we will be great,” I say back, apparently hitting whatever benchmark of enthusiasm I’m supposed to.

“Happy to hear it. How are you getting on with your classes?”

Did Nate have to answer these questions?Probably not. I doubt Nate’s ever failed a class in his life. He made balancing hockey, studying, and having a relationship all at the same time look easy.

“Great,” I respond, remembering that “okay” doesn’t cut it. “Rocky start, but I listened when you said to do whatever it takes, and someone is helping me now. That’s what I’m doing tomorrow after I do my workout; I have an assignment due on Tuesday.”

He runs his hand through his nonexistent hair, not picking up on my hint that I want to leave. “You’re paying a tutor?”

I think Halle would make a great tutor. She’s so patient and soft-spoken. I can’t imagine her ever getting irritated when someone can’t work something out. “Not quite. She’s a friend.”

“From your class?”

I’ve seen her doodles. I’m not sure she’d make it through a fine art BA. “No. She studies English.”

“I’m confused.”You and me both, big guy.“How can she help you?”

“She’s done Professor Thornton’s classes before, so she knows what he’s looking for. And she makes the research material more accessible for me. Making it less overwhelming to face,” I explain, repeating how Halle worded it to me when we talked about it again while making the cake.

“And what are you doing for her?” Faulkner asks. I don’t know what he means, and whatever expression my face has twisted into is telling him that. “If she’s doing all this work for you, and she isn’t a paid tutor, what are you doing for her?”

I think about it for a little while before finally answering him. “Nothing. I bought her flowers to say thank you when I received good feedback on my essay. We’re friends. She’s a nice person.”

“Hmm,” he says, and that little noise maybe guts me more than him barking my name. It’s the noise people make when they’re about to say something I haven’t considered. Then I spend the rest of my day mad that I didn’t consider it. “Make sure you’re not abusing her kindness. You don’t want to lose your friend. You don’t need distractions this year. That’s all, Turner. Enjoy your weekend.”

Abusing her kindnessplays on a loop in my head as I exit Faulkner’s office. The locker room has emptied out now, my teammates eager to get their Friday started. Russ is waiting for me in the lobby, smiling at his cell phone. I think maybe I need to use my savings to buy myself a car instead of relying on him. Am I abusing his kindness by getting him to give me rides everywhere? I give him gas money.

“You okay, man?” Russ asks as I approach.

“Do I give you enough gas money?”

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