Barbie’s too busy smiling at his phone to retaliate. He’s so happy it makes my chest ache. Knowing it’s Nova on the other end of it is enough to make me wanna cry. If just one good, lasting thing comes from me being at Hartland, I hope it’s them.
I grab the tangled mess of my headphones from next to my pillow and work on fixing them. “Why do it here?”
Dorian arranges his laptop, textbook, papers, and notebooks around him on the floor in the most precise chaos I’ve ever seen. His notes are clean and organized and detailed and exactly what I’d expect from an astronomy major who was sitting at a 4.0 at the midterm of his first semester of college.
“Seniors are thesis-ing in the players’ lounge, and the library is fuckin’ lit tonight for some reason,” he says.
“Why?” Cauler asks. He tilts his head to the side, stretching the line of his shoulder and neck long and inviting. “You not want us here?”
His hair is starting to grow out on top. He’s got a dark freckle behind his right ear. The plugs he has in today are black roses, a birthday gift he got from Zero. He smells like fresh laundry.
“It’s Dorian’s room, too,” I say. Cauler chuckles and we are so obvious, how have we not been straight-up called out yet?
I get the cords untangled and slip the buds into my ears, plugging them into my laptop. I have an Italian assignment due tomorrow. Something simple that’ll take ten minutes and then I won’t have to worry about it in the morning. But I can’t focus with Cauler literally leaning against my bed when I can’t even touch him.
* * *
I’M BARELY AWAKE by the time Cauler and Dorian wrap it up for the night. Barbie fell asleep an hour ago, and Nova took to messaging me instead about how perfect he is, which is just plain weird when I can see him sleeping with his hand halfway down his pants and his mouth wide-open just across the room from me.
“Yeah, so, with this outline we could probably turn this thing in early,” Dorian says as he gets his books and papers together. “Get that extra credit, boiiii.”
“We can work on it after the game tomorrow,” Cauler says. He zips his backpack and slings it over his shoulder and doesn’t look at me.
“Good idea, dude. Party without guilt after.”
I have YouTube open in front of me and piles of homework to do and I feel like absolute garbage. These guys all have a future in the NHL, just like me. They still take college seriously. They’re kind of overachievers about it, really.
Dorian shakes Barbie awake. “Get out of here, flojo. Don’t you have homework to do?”
Barbie yawns, stretching both arms above his head. “I’m all caught up. See ya, Terzo.”
“Bye.”
Cauler doesn’t acknowledge me as he walks out, which is probably, definitely for the best, but it still feels like a punch to the gut.
“Y’know you guys don’t have to hide around me and Barbie, right?” Dorian says when the door closes. “We’re not assholes.”
“We’re not hiding anything,” I mumble.
“Sure,” he says, drawing it out and rolling his eyes as he turns toward his bed.
My phone buzzes. I look at it, expecting another text from Nova.
It’s Cauler.
Jaysen: Can we talk
Laundry room?
I take a deep breath. Tap my phone against my forehead a few times. My stomach doesn’t come with me when I stand up.
“Going to the bathroom,” I say.
Dorian doesn’t even look up as he says, “Think of me.”
I hesitate on my way to the door, blinking at him for a moment before shaking my head and coming back with “I always do.”
I feel sick with anxiety on my way down the stairs.
Can we talk.
The possibilities of what he’s gonna say are so immense and terrifying I’ll probably go into cardiac arrest if I try to grasp on to one.
I hesitate at the top of the stairs leading down to the basement. I can hear the TV in the lounge, just loud enough to know someone’s watching Say Yes to the Dress. And no, it’s not my sisters’ or Nova’s fault I know that.
I tiptoe down a few stairs and crouch till I can see two girls huddled in the corners of the couch with laptops in their laps, not paying any attention to the stairs or the laundry room. I quietly make my way down the rest of the way and into the room immediately to the right, easing the door closed behind me.
I keep one hand on the knob and the other flat against the wood for a moment, listening. The sound of the TV is muted through the door, but there’s no sign of movement in the lounge. I let out a heavy sigh and rest my forehead against the door for a moment before turning around.