“Getting there,” I admit. “Big change from what I’m used to.”
“Remember, you belong here. Everyone wants you here, you hear me?” he says quietly.
I’ve never voiced my insecurities to any of the guys, but somehow JJ knows I keep myself on the outside of things. I called him perceptive once and he said it’s because he’s a Scorpio.
Whatever that means. I appreciate it anyway and for the first time in a long time, I feel understood. Which is a strange feeling to accept, since a lot of the time I don’t understand myself.
“I hear you,” I confirm. He slaps me on the shoulder before heading back to his seat in the living room. I follow slowly, throwing myself into the seat beside Henry.
Robbie claps his hands once, giving us all hockey flashbacks as we instinctively give him our immediate attention like well-trained dogs.
“Such a mini-Faulkner. Jeez,” Nate grumbles, shuffling uncomfortably in his seat.
“You know I flinch during rounds of applause now,” Bobby adds. “I think it’s an actual trauma response.”
“I hear that clap when I’m alone,” Mattie says, nodding in solidarity.
“Nah,” Joe snorts. “That’s Kris next door. Just the one. Clap her cheeks, singular.”
Robbie hisses something under his breath as Kris launches a couch cushion at Joe, which he catches and throws back, chaos ensuing.
“Where were these defensive skills when you played hockey, Joe?” Henry asks, catching him off guard long enough for one of Kris’ cushions to smack him right in the face.
“For fuck’s sake,” Robbie grumbles. “This party isn’t going to happen if one of you clowns ends up with concussion. Come on, one last time.”
A natural silence settles over the room as everyone reluctantly lines up to be told what to do by Robbie and there’s a weird moment where I think it occurs to everyone that this is the last party the guys are going to throw together in this house.
I’m lost in my thoughts, waiting to be told what to do, when JJ starts laughing and shouting. “Twenty bucks! You all owe me twenty bucks!”
“What?”
“Stas is crying!” He wraps his arm around her and kisses the side of her head, “and it’s before she’s had any alcohol! I win.”
Wiping her tears away with the backs of her hands, she looks around bewildered. “You guys bet on me?”
The guys all reach for their wallets, plucking out bills. Mattie shrugs as he slams it into JJ’s awaiting palm. “We technically bet on your tears.”
“This is unbelievable. Nate, did you kn—” She turns to her boyfriend, who’s discreetly pulling money from his pocket. “You’re such a douchebag! You’re all douchebags.”
Nate hands his five-dollar bill to JJ and tugs her into a tight hug, kissing her temple affectionately. “You didn’t even try to last. I could have bought you chicken wings with that money.”
“Unbelievable. It’s just so sad. You guys are all going your separate ways and there’s just an atmosphere.”
“If I told you Russ didn’t bet on you crying today, would that make you feel better?”
Her watery eyes meet mine and she grins. “Thanks, Muffin. You’re not on my shit list.”
I give her a nod of acknowledgment. Letting her think it’s because I thought she wouldn’t cry—which I knew she would at some point—instead of saying it’s because I don’t gamble.
“Excuse me,” Henry interrupts. “Neither did I.”
Henry also knew she would cry but decided he doesn’t gamble anymore in solidarity. JJ is still counting his money when Lola strolls in with bags full of red cups. She looks along the line and scowls. “She cried, didn’t she?”
“Yup,” the room echoes.
“God damnit, Anastasia.” Lola drops the bags into Robbie’s lap, bending to kiss him, before reaching into her purse and pulling out some cash. “This is the last time you’re ever getting my money, Johal.”
“Until I fail at hockey and follow my true calling in life,” JJ counters. “Stripping.”
“Until then.”
“Now everyone’s debts have been paid can we please get this shitshow started?” Robbie groans.
The silence from earlier returns, the same shared thought running through my teammates’ minds one by one. Nate clears his throat, nodding. “One last time.”
The weird atmosphere disappears as soon as Lola burst out laughing. “Alright, Alexander Hamilton. And I’m supposedly the dramatic one, jeez. Bunch of fucking drama queens.”