Page 58 of Hockey Bois
Jenna May (9:38 a.m.)
I know you missed your boy but seriously?? You couldn’t wait til we woke up to say goodbye??
Nick (9:42 a.m.)
i’ve spent many new years eves with you i don’t think you can be upset
i’m surprised you’re up already
it’s not even noon
Jenna May (9:45 a.m.)
??
But oh god you’re right I hadn’t even checked the time
Just promise me you won’t embarrass yourself when you see him again
Nick (9:48 a.m.)
if i could reasonably make that promise i would
She was right, hehadgotten up earlier than necessary and bailed on his cousins and friends. They’d been quietly sleeping off their evening of drinking and movie watching, and he’d figured they wouldn’t miss him. He’d barely slept, and he hadn’t seen much point in hurting his back pretending to sleep on a couch in Mykala’s crowded living room.
Instead, he’d gotten up around six, gone home to change, and enjoyed a quiet run. He’d also taken his time showering and wrapping the gift he’d carefully selected for the Yankee Swap. After that, he’d gone through only seven outfits before he’d settled on khakis and a blue sweater he’d gotten for Christmas, and calculated his departure time down to the minute to make sure he arrived right at eleven.
And still, he had nearly an hour left before he had to head out.
Longest morning ever.
The team thing was going to be fun, but there was no point in denying that he was only this worked up because he hadn’t seen Brady in weeks. Yes, they had texted as promised. He’d gotten some pictures of Brady in his new Team USA jersey, several images with a huge black lab draped across his lap, and some selfies of him and the mysterious Lucy, who had in fact turned out to be his younger sister. Despite a huge size difference—she just came up to his shoulder—she obviously had Brady wrapped around her finger.
In turn, he’d shared some pictures of himself with Jenna and Terry playing board games, videos of said cousins falling all over themselves at an open skate, and random things he’d seen on runs or trips out. He posted a lot of them to Instagram and Facebook, but he’d long ago realized Brady only logged onto Facebook for the team group chat; anything he wanted Brady to see, he had to send to him directly.
It wasn’t complete separation—in fact, it was kind of nice because he got the impression that Brady wasn’t keeping up with anyone else on the team, and it stupidly made him feel special—but it wasn’t the same. Texting from a few miles apart, knowing they’d see each other later that week, was substantially different than texting from another state. It shouldn’t be, but itfeltlike it was.
Soon, the status quo would settle back into place. Games started up again in a week, and there was plenty of hockey to watch in the meantime. All he had to do was not go crazy before 10:38 a.m. when he could finally head out and arrive at exactly 11:00 for the team gift exchange.
He checked his phone. 10:01 a.m.
Fuck, this was going to takeforever.
*
Despite his carefully orchestrated plans to arrive on time, he ended up getting distracted by a call from his grandma wishing him a happy new year.
(“I called your cousins, but you weren’t there…”she’d said meaningfully, and he could hear his cousins teasing him indirectly through her words.“So I had to make a second call.”)
It put him behind schedule enough that he didn’t arrive until 11:33 a.m., which made him nervous he’d missed Brady’s arrival and squandered precious seconds of awkwardly trying not to gush that he was back.
Imagine his delight when he pulled into the unfamiliar neighborhood behind a black Jeep. They both parked about a half block away from Benns’s house, the only place with room left, and Nick had to take a few calming breaths before he jumped out of his car.
“Long time no see,” he said casually. Who’d missed Brady like crazy? Not him, nope.
“’Sup.” Brady acknowledged him with a nod and headed to his passenger door to pull out a basket, its contents obscured by bright-gold wrapping paper. “What’d you bring?”
Nick held up a small, neatly-wrapped-but-nondescript rectangular box. While Brady’s shone, his wrapping paper was a deep scarlet, like a black spot in the morning light.
