Chapter 7

As I ledKenji back to the table, relief washed over me like a warm wave. Seeing him settle into the seat next to Soren and Felix filled me with a mix of satisfaction and happiness. They'd shuffled along the bench to make room, offering fists to bump, all smiles, and I slid in beside Kenji, feeling a surge of elation that I'd convinced him to eat something.

I hunched over, so I wasn't looming as much, and watched everyone at the table when I couldn"t shake the feeling of protectiveness that enveloped me as Kenji seemed small between me and Soren. I should have made it so he'd sat next to Tyler who was shorter and less threatening. My bad—I'd fix that next time.

Only, there was Tyler, across the table, his gaze settled on me with an unreadable expression, as if he didn't want Kenji at the table, which made no sense because Tyler was a good guy, and he and Kenji were friends. I kicked out to knock his foot and hit Dom instead, who'd been shoveling in an enormous amount of noodles.

"Watch it, Cap; I need my feet to skate," Dom grouched good-naturedly.

I winced. So much for tapping Tyler, who was still staring at me, making me uneasy, a knot of discomfort forming in the pit of my stomach. I wished I had gotten Kenji to sit next to Tyler instead, where I could keep an eye on him.

Felix leaned around Soren, nudging him out of the way, almost in Soren's lap.

"Hey, Kenji. Are you going to bust out the triple toe loop at the Snowflake Classic?"

Kenji paused, and then, it was as if someone had flipped his excitement switch. "Yeah, I"ve been practicing it a lot. I think I might just give it a shot," he replied. "That's if I get to go," Kenji murmured.

I hated that he sounded so flat. Of course, he'd go, I mean, I had no idea what the qualifications were for whatever the Snowflake Classic was, but Kenji was amazing, and he'd get a place.

"Do you have to earn a place?" Soren asked.

"Yes, and no. I mean, I've placed in all my events, but it's up to my coach if I'm ready." He pressed a hand to his stomach and bit his lower lip. "I want to go."

"What kind of sparkly stuff will you wear?" Dom asked.

I stiffened, waiting for the sneer, even though I knew Dominic Wishor was a good guy. He was big like me, rough around the edges, our biggest D-man, and had this way about him that was almost intimidating. In reality, he was a huge teddy bear who loved watching nature documentaries and cried at the last one he'd watched in my basement den because a couple of baby meerkats didn't survive an attack. "I saw your blue one, with the lines; it was cool."

"I have this black outfit, like an all in one, with a hood, and I added some diamonds to it, not real ones, of course." Kenji chuckled to himself. "But yeah, it's super pretty." Then, he stopped, as if he'd realized where he was—in the middle of a group of hockey players, and I swear, if anyone stepped out of line with him, I'd pummel them into the ground.

"So, when the light is following, you'll be all shiny," Dom said. "I sure hope you go, and maybe we could all go up and watch? What do you think, Cap? Road trip?"

"We could get one of my dads to drive," Soren announced, "or Grandpa, if they're away."

Yes. Absolutely freaking yes. "Sure," I said instead, "sounds cool."

"You'd come?" Kenji asked, as if that were a brand-new concept.

Dom held out a fist to bump. "Team Ice," he announced, and Kenji reached out to touch his small hand to Dom's.

"Team Ice," he whispered.

"So, what kind of thing is a triple toe loop?" Dom asked eagerly, but again, Kenji was quiet.

"Yeah, what is one of those?" I asked lamely.

Kenji shot me a glance of irritation, the flash of it obvious in his gorgeous dark eyes. "It's kind of boring," he murmured.

Dom rested his chin on his hands and all I could focus on was the smear of sauce on his nose—I mean, who gets sauce on their nose? "I think it's beautiful," he said with a sigh. "If I hadn't got so big…" He rolled his eyes in self-deprecation, and I assumed he meant he might have turned his skating skills to the poetry of figure skating, rather than the brute force he showed in hockey.

Next to me, Kenji moved forward, resting his hands on the table. "Um, so the triple toe loop is one of those jumps where you really gotta nail the takeoff," he explained, and then, his hands were making shapes in front of him, and he wriggled against me as if his body recalled each movement. "You start with a strong edge, then you launch yourself into the air, pulling your knees tight to your chest to gain rotation. The key is to spot your landing and use your arms for balance as you come down." His voice was animated, and as Kenji demonstrated the triple toe loop with graceful gestures, he transitioned into another sequence. "And from there, you can flow right into a footwork sequence," he continued, as if the table was his rink, as if he were gliding across the imaginary ice. "You wanna keep the momentum going, linking one element to the next while maintaining speed and rhythm. It"s all about showcasing your agility and musicality, while keeping the audience engaged." He finished his explanation.

Dom's mouth had fallen open. "Wow," he said.

I didn't like the wow. I didn't want to hear that wow. I was… I don't know… pissed at Dom.

"You have sauce on your nose," I pointed at Dom, breaking the rapt attention of the people drawn in by the beauty of Kenji's words.

Dom scrubbed at his nose, and Felix took over the questions, which I tried to focus on given how much Tyler was glaring at me. I frowned at Tyler, asking him silently what was wrong. His gaze narrowed, and I thought he was angry at me. Not sure what for, but that was me. I wasn't good at picking up unspoken angst. Maybe, I'd done something, or said something, or maybe, and this was more likely, I'd pissed off his boyfriend Jonah, who was scribbling in a notebook. I didn't recall upsetting Jonah—he was the official team photographer, as well as all the other Chesterford teams, including I guess, Kenji. Whatever. I'd ask Tyler what the fuck he had going on with me after this.

Oh god, wait, did I have sauce on my nose?

I casually wiped it, just in case. But no, Tyler was still glaring.

"Anything else guys?" Tammy, our server, was scooting around picking up empty plates.

"What do you want, Kenji?"

"Oh, I haven't looked at the menu," Kenji spluttered.

I pointed at the wall opposite where the specific menu items were listed. "My treat," I added.

Kenji wriggled again, his hands clasped in his lap, biting his lip again. "Umm…"

"All the noodle options are good," I encouraged.

"I don't know…" Kenji murmured.

"Or rice, they have rice dishes." Kenji hunched in on himself, probably overwhelmed at the choices, and I patted his hand. "I can order for you," I said.

He stiffened and shrugged off my touch. "Vegetarian broth," he snapped at the server, or maybe at me, then softened the words with an apology to Tammy, who didn't seem fazed by any of it.

"You got it, sweetie, anyone else?"

The guys around the table put in orders, I added some of my favorite pickled radishes, a plate of vegetarian spring rolls—given I now knew Kenji liked vegetarian stuff—and another soda, and then, it was a waiting game for the food, and somehow no one was talking. Or at least, the ease of conversation about the figure skating had passed. Thankfully, the food began arriving, and I nudged the plate of spring rolls towards Kenji. "Here," I said, my voice soft. "You should eat something."

"No thank you," he said, and pushed the plate back to me, and I realized, of course, the damn things were fried.

"How about some radishes instead?" I offered him my bowl, but his glazed expression was a good enough answer, and then, his soup arrived. I mean, all the food in this place was good, but his soup was mainly some vegetables in a thin broth. No noodles, only a couple of mushrooms. Still, it was food, and he picked up the spoon and lifted a mouthful to his lips.

Someone kicked me under the table, and it snapped me out of the fact I was staring, and when I checked out who'd done it, Tyler was slumped in his chair, making cutting motions on his throat. They stopped when Kenji placed his spoon next to his bowl, so the indication that I needed to stop doing whatever I'd been doing was something Tyler didn't want Kenji to see. I was helping Kenji, just like I had wanted to. And what was wrong with that?

"So, how is the hockey going?" Kenji asked, nudging the bowl away, so animated that it was clearly an act.

"Good," Soren said. "We're…"

I let Soren explain because Kenji was leaving the soup.

He wasn't eating the damn soup.

Fuck.

Soren and Felix left then, plus Dom, and the other players down the table, until it was only me, Kenji, Tyler, and a distracted Jonah, who was now fiddling with a camera.

"I need to go," Kenji murmured, his soup long since collected by Tammy, who never said a word that she was taking a near full bowl. "Can I get out?" He poked at me, and I slid out of the way, grabbing my jacket. "You don't need to leave on my account," he snapped, then sighed. "Sorry. Look, I need to go."

He sidestepped me and hurried to the door, letting in the cold before vanishing. I sketched a wave goodbye to Tyler, then headed out after him, catching him by his car. I wanted to ask him about why he hadn't eaten, and what was wrong, and why wouldn't his coach sign off for him to go that Snowflake thing, and why it was important for him to listen to me.

"You didn't eat!" I said instead.

He whirled on me. "You don't get to do that to me!" he shouted. "You made everyone watch me. You treated me like I was a kid! You made me feel sick!" He balled his hands into fists and pummeled my chest, and I let him. "I hate you!" Then, he climbed into his car before I could even think about what I'd done to upset him.

I watched the Volkswagen disappear around the corner and rubbed a hand on my chest. He hadn't hurt me, not really, but somehow, I'd messed everything up again.

"What the fuck was that?" Tyler snapped at me from behind.

"I don't know," I muttered as I turned to face him. "I don't know what's got into him."

"Not him!" Tyler was working his way up to angry, which took a lot. "You!"

He poked me in the chest at the same place Kenji had punched me, but this wasn't Kenji, and Tyler didn't get to poke me.

I brushed off his hand. "What?"

"You"re such an idiot," Tyler muttered under his breath, his tone laced with frustration. "Why did you bring him in there, in front of all of us?"

"What do you mean? I was trying to be friendly, and we're not going to be nasty to him, so?—"

"Stop!" Tyler sighed, running a hand through his pink hair. "Don"t you see? Food is a battlefield for him. Forcing him to eat in front of others, especially when he"s struggling, is just making things worse."

"I just wanted him to eat something."

"That's not how this works. Jesus!"

A hard knot formed in my stomach as Tyler"s words sank in and guilt washed over me at the thought I'd unknowingly—stupidly—added to his distress.

"But I just wanted to help him," I protested weakly, feeling helpless in the face of Tyler"s accusation.

"I know you did, Shaun," Tyler replied, his voice softening. "But sometimes, the best way to help someone is to give them space and support them from afar. Pushing them too hard can do more harm than good. Is he seeing a therapist for the eating thing?"

"He's not broken, Ty; he's strong, talented?—"

"You're not listening to me," Tyler interrupted and handed me a card, which I took. "Call this guy, okay. He's a figure skater, you remember him?"

I turned the card in my hand, catching the rainbow face of it in the streetlamp's glow. TRENT HANSON. "I know who Trent Hanson is," I muttered. "Why do I need to call him?"

"To understand. If you really care about Kenji."

"I care. You know I do. He's…" What was he? An old friend? Someone I admired? Someone I was scared for? Fragile? Small in my arms. Soft, but tough.

Mine?

Tyler placed a hand on my arm, and this time, I didn't shrug him off. "Promise me you'll call Trent, get some perspective; tell him how you feel about Kenji. That you want the best for him, and you're more than just friends."

I stiffened in shock. "I'm not into guys," I defended, and Tyler shrugged. Then, with no more words, he left to head back into the noodle place and Jonah.

And I turned the card over in my hands and felt so much weight on me I could have cried.

But I didn't.

Because I was a hockey player, who didn't show my emotions, wasn't at all gay, and wasn't wishing he could hold Kenji close and stop the world from hurting him.