Page 78 of On the Edge

“No, but probably this week. I will call Jakob to help me with the forms.”

Carter raises a hand in acknowledgment as the defensive coach calls out to him, letting him know he’s actually done for the day and they’ll regroup tomorrow. Clearing his throat, he turns toward me fully. Knowing Carter as well as I do, I can tell by his expression that he’s about to embark on what he considers to be an uncomfortable conversation.

“I want you to stay with us, instead of moving back into the dorms.” I sigh, but Carter continues with a scowl before I can interrupt. “It’s your last year, Vas, you shouldn’t have to stay in the fucking dorms. Our house is more comfortable, and it’s close enough to campus for you to still walk to class if you want. You can cook your own food instead of eating the café shit.”

“But, Carter, what about Zeke’s grandmother? I thought she was to be moving in with you?”

He snorts violently. “Yeah, the two of you could give lessons on stubborn. She won’t budge for now, saying she doesn’t want to impose on us.”

“I do not wish to impose, either,” I point out gently. “You have been kind to let me stay over the summer, but?—"

“Zeke hates being alone when I’m gone. I hateleavinghim alone when I’m gone. If you moved in permanently, you’d be doing us a favor and making yourself more comfortable in the process. I’d feel better, knowing you were there.”

I pause. Carter isn’t a liar—he wouldn’t tell me something about Zeke unless it was truthful. Playing for the NHL means Carter is gone a lot during the season, and it’s entirely plausible that Zeke finds the loneliness uncomfortable.

“You have already talked to Zeke about this?” I ask carefully.

“Yeah. He loves having you there and so do I. You’re already moved in, Vas, juststay.” I can tell by his expression that he’s fast losing his ability to maintain this conversation.

“I will pay you the housing fee that is usually paid to the school,” I tell him, holding up a hand to waylay the angry outburst I know will follow that statement. “It is fair, Carter, you cannot pretend it is not. You have given me room and board for a whole summer for free. That is enough. If I am to stay, I will pay.”

“You can pay the same thing Zeke did when he first moved in,” Carter offers, and I jump on it immediately.

“Okay,” I agree, though my confidence wavers when he smirks at me. I thought I’d just won that argument, but now I’m unsure. Carter looks far too happy for someone who just agreed to something he loves fighting me on.

“Great. It’s settled, then. Apparently I’m done for the day, so let’s get out of here. I’m fucking starving.”

Max’s car is already in the driveway when I get home, and a quick glance inside the vehicle confirms he is already in the house. After going through my usual motions of putting my shoes and coat away, I find Zeke where I usually do: the kitchen. Max is sitting on one of the island stools, looking serious as he carefully places pepperoni slices on a pizza.

“Hello, my friends,” I greet them.

“Vas!” Zeke replies exuberantly, walking over to give me a side hug.

“Hey, Vas,” Max greets me, sharing a quick smile before he goes back to putting pepperoni equidistance apart on the pizza. “I came a little early, so we made pizza.”

“That looks delicious,” I tell them truthfully, walking over to the sink and washing my hands. “How may I assist?”

When Carter gets home, the kitchen is ringing withlaughter and music; there are two homemade pizzas in the oven and one being cleaned up off the floor. I look up from where I am kneeling on the hardwood, searching for stray cheese.

“I thought you were right behind me,” I comment, earning a grunt in reply.

“Got caught up talking to some of the guys. What happened there?”

“Slipped off the pizza spatula thing,” Max explains, lifting up the item in question to show Carter. “Don’t worry, we’ve got another started.”

He gestures to the dough spread out on the island. Carter leans over to steal a few toppings and pop them into his mouth, before walking over to rest against the island next to Zeke. I go back to cleaning up the floor and the cabinetry, while Max finishes putting the toppings on the next pizza. He talks aimlessly as he does, him and Carter falling into their usual NHL chatter. Once I’m satisfied that the pizza mess is sufficiently cleaned up, I leave to dispose of the towels into the laundry and take a detour to my room to change. After pulling on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, I have a sudden inspiration.

Taking a quick photograph of myself in the bathroom mirror, I text it to Atlas.

Atlas

oh my god am i witnessing the death of the khaki right now

Henri

I wore the khaki pants to work.

Atlas

---