Page 37 of Full Body Hit: Part 2
“Sorry for not texting,” Sammy was saying, but he was also pushing inside the apartment, forcing Chase to stumble back. “A pipe burst in our apartment.”
Shock crystalised into concern. “What? Oh, my God. Is your apartment okay?”
“Well, the landlady is there, she’s going to sort everything out, but we need a place to stay for a few days. Oh, hello. You must be Mrs. Spalding.” Sammy punctuated his explanation with a wave to Chase’s mom.
“Nice to meet you,” she replied, but her eyes were hard, mouth pursed. “I’m afraid Chase’s apartment is full right now. I’m sure there’s a hotel nearby, though.”
“Oh, no—I spend so much time in hotels, I simply can’t stand staying in another one.” Sammy blinked at Chase. “We can stay, right? Crash in the living room with you?”
“Sure,” Chase said even though it was a bad idea. Rude, actually, to have guests over when his mom was there and she obviously didn’t appreciate the company.
And yet…
The dynamic changed instantly. His mom tried to steer them to watching tape, but Sammy vetoed that immediately with a, “Oh, I really can’t watch the game right now, I have a headache.”
“It’s not for you,” Chase’s mom sniped.
“Yeah, but I simply couldn’t. Oh, there’s this documentary that’s so good…” and then Sammy was taking hold of the remote control.
When the food arrived, Sammy wrinkled his nose and made sandwiches, giving half to Chase. He made popcorn. He manhandled Chase to the ground to eat, leaving Noah sitting next to Chase’s mom, making awkward small talk with her.
“It was averyexpensive umbrella,” he was saying. “You would think it could withstand a little wind. I tried to fix it, but…”
Chase glanced at his mom, who had her eyes narrowed into slits, mouth a tense, wrinkled line.
A knee-jerk jolt went through him, the taste of metal in his mouth, but Sammy jostled him into another conversation, talking through the documentary even though he claimed it was amazing.
Before Chase knew what was happening, it was time to go to bed. Sammy roped him into piling cushions and blankets on the living room floor—Chase had enough of them to construct a giant bed.
“Well,” Chase’s mom said, inspecting what was obviously a very large nest. “Doesn’t that look cozy.”
“Right?” Sammy beamed.
Chase was genuinely unsure if Sammy didn’t get the sarcasm or simply didn’t care.
It was well past midnight by the time they finally settled, piled onto the cushions like kids at a sleepover.
Chase lay in the darkness, cradled between Sammy and Noah, feeling his eyes burn, his throat tight.
There wasn’t a burst pipe. He didn’t know how Sammy had found out about his mom—one of the guards, probably—but they’d engineered all this so that he didn’t have to be alone.
“Thank you,” Chase whispered.
Sammy wrapped around him, front-to-front. “Always.”
Chase shut his eyes and tried not to let the tears fall.
***
“Hey, Daddy.” Chase buried himself in the car seat as much as it would allow. He’d had no problem convincing Noah and Sammy to go to the arena early for practice or to give him half an hour of alone time, ensconced in the dark of the car park, feeling as close to calm as he’d been since his mom had arrived.
“Baby,” Aunix greeted, sounding harried. “Hey. Are you okay?”
Chase paused at the odd tone. The odd wording. “Areyouokay?”
“Me? Yeah, of course.”
“You sound weird.”
