Page 72 of Friendzone Hockey
Travis beckons me with a hand, and I close the door behind me. “Everything, okay?” he asks.
“I think so. We haven’t talked about Dash in a while.”
He frowns. “Do we need to? Thought he was looking forward to the season?”
“He is. He’s also looking forward to dating,” I tell him, leaving out that the someone he wants to date is me.
The air in the room changes from summer to frigid winter. “So soon after the trial?”
There’s a whole hockey season and part of an off-season of space in time away from the trial, but I guess to a parent, it might as well be yesterday. I don’t call him on it. The way he is with Dash is as adorable as he ever gets.
I nod.
“That’s not happening. I’ll have a chat with him.”
Fuck. I guess I know Travis well enough by now that I knew it was a possibility, but I feel like I just told on Dash, which was so not my intent. I wanted—fuck me—I was hoping his response might indicate that I’m overreacting about the whole thing. Maybe Dash and I wouldn’t be the worst thing. But it’s more like Dash’s tears broke me down again.
Travis makes things clear in my brain: Dash is off limits.
“Already did,” I try, hoping to save Dash that lecture.
Travis hums. Once the man makes up his mind, there’s no changing it.
When Dash finds me in the kitchen at home later that night, doom scrolling, it’s clear he’s worked himself into a fury.
“You told him.”
“I—”
“You only threw me under the bus, though. Thanks for that, Alderchuck. Don’t worry, I didn’t dare let him know it was you. With how pissed he was, he would have moved me outta hereso fast, and despite how much I hate you right now, I still don’t want to leave.”
I shouldn’t feel so much relief, but I do. If he stays, I can make it up to him. Eventually.
“I wasn’t throwing you under the bus. You know I’d never do that. I was concerned.”
If humans could breathe fire, that’s what he’d be doing, but I’ll take his anger over his heartbreak any day. I’d let him burn me alive if it would make him feel better. “I’d like it if you stopped going to my dad about shit.”
“You know I can’t do that.” It’s the one thing I can’t do for him.
“Then your loyalty is with him first and me second.”
“Not true. It’s because you’re first that I went to him. Do you think I liked having to do that? I don’t have all the answers. Sometimes I need a damn adult too.” My voice is a trembling thing I don’t recognize, and my fist smashes the table, trying to release even just a thimble-full of the emotions pent up inside of me from years of pining after Dash without end. There are other emotions too. Ones I never let see the light of day because I need to be the rational one. The one with his head together. Everyone expects it, looks to me for guidance, but who do I get to look to?
Dash takes a step back. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I didn’t look at it that way.” He races off to his room and for once I don’t follow. I’m empty. I’ve got nothing left to give until I fill up.
Two nights later, Dash joins me on the couch. Saddles right up to my side and puts his arms around me. “I’m a jerk, can you forgive me?”
“Call yourself a jerk again, and I’m telling your dad on you.”
He laughs. It’s instant healing.
“And there’s nothing to forgive, sweetheart.”
“Do you think things can go back to normal?” he says. “Forget I said anything to you?”
I’ll never be able to forget what he said to me.Or what I said to him.“I plan on things going back to normal.”
And they do.
