23. MATTHEWS

MATTHEWS

I found a group of players, including Cael and Dean, in the living room watching a university hockey game. They were strung around the furniture with bored looks on their faces. Van was hanging upside down on the living room chair with a camera over his face and clicked the trigger as I came into view.

“Who’s playing?” I asked.

“St. Louis and Pittsburgh,” Cael groaned, not looking over from the TV. Pittsburgh were up by three goals in the third period and it didn’t look promising for the other team.

I shrugged and leaned against the archway with my arms crossed. “Is this what you guys do during off season? Lay around and watch hockey?”

“Pretty much.” Dean shrugged. He had a binder open in his lap and he was scribbling notes from a textbook beside him on the floor. “Were you expecting grand parties every night?” He asked, looking up at me with his lips pressed into a thin line.

“No,” I said, but absolutely. “Isn’t that what university is about? Parties, drinking, girls.”

Van snorted. “Cael’s sober, I’m committed, both Todd and Jensen are on probation with Coach, and Dean has slept through most of the male sports teams.”

Dean growled at Van and kicked his foot against the bar that controlled the foot rest of the chair he was sprawled across. The motion sent Van tumbling downward onto the floor, protecting his camera with lanky arms as he hit the ground.

“Ow,” he grumbled and shoved a leg against Dean’s binder.

The two of them lunged at each other on the living room floor rolling around in a ball of strong limbs and curse words as they wrestled. The rest of the boys either kept their eyes on the game or egged them on.

“Is there anything fun to do in Harbor other than hockey games and amateur wrestling?” I asked as Cael jabbed Van in the ribcage to give Dean the advantage. Seeing the opening, he flipped Van on his back and hooked his arm around his face, squeezing it between his forearm and bicep.

“Tap,” Dean grunted as Van wiggled to get free. “Just tap, Mitchell,” he said again when Van tried to pinch his way out of the hold, but Dean used his other hand to swat him away.

“I tap,” Van coughed out and pushed away from the floor. “We could take her down to the stadium…” Van looked over at Cael as he straightened himself out. “You know…” He wiggled his eyebrows at him and Dean let his head fall backwards to stare at Cael upside down.

“Oh please, Caely ,” he whined. “It'll be so much fun and we haven’t done it in so long.”

“Caely?” I mocked and Dean gave me a dirty look.

Cael sighed, looking around at all of us. “Get Ella. If we do it without her she’ll kill us.”

“Yes!” Van pushed his giant body into motion and disappeared from the living room as Todd and Jensen started moving.

“We’ll go get the stuff,” they both chimed together and were gone without another word.

“Do dumb and dumber always finish each other's sentences?” I asked as the front door shut. Dean laughed as he collected his school work and nodded as he wandered by. Cael seemed unimpressed by all the shenanigans, which wasn’t like him at all; usually he was the center of them.

“It gets worse when they’re drunk,” he said. “Just wait.”

“Remember, when we get there,” Cael sauntered over to me, the bored look on his face still solemn, “ you wanted something fun to do.”

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked him quietly .

“Nothing.” He looked at me, his eyes trailing down my body, taking in the light athletic sweater and tights. His eyes glimmered for a moment before the light died as he looked back up at me.

“You hate hockey.” I poked him in the chest and he grabbed my wrist.

“You’re right, I do .” He kissed the inside of my wrist like he couldn’t help himself and turned me toward the TV with a spin. “But I love watching Hart get kicked around by the Pittsburgh defense.” He lowered his voice, his face brushing against mine as he nodded at the TV as Kiefer Hart was slammed into the boards.

My heart sank seeing his face as his helmet was spun off onto the ice, a gripping feeling like I had been planted in concrete planted me to the ground in front of the TV. His dark, sweaty hair stuck to a fresh cut on his forehead as he yelled in the face of the ref.

“Oooh tough. You’re mocking an NHL player…” I tried to deflect the way I felt. The way it made me feel that Cael held that grudge even today, but the words came out shaky and a nasty, beautiful smirk formed on Cael’s face.

“He’s still a pussy,” Cael whispered with malice. “Come on.” He tugged me away from the TV as Dean came back down the stairs. “Where’s Ella?”

I looked back at the TV. The puck had been dropped again and the image of Kiefer was gone but the feelings that surfaced upon seeing him after so long lingered. Sometimes when I closed my eyes I could still smell him, feel his hands, and it ran a chill down my spine.

“Here.”

The sound of her voice snapped me from my nightmare and I turned just as she appeared from the kitchen with Van on her tail and Zoey on his back with a bright grin. “I heard we were hazing Mary.” Ella beamed.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I warned you,” Cael said quietly, and wrapped his arm around me until his fingers were tucked into the pocket of my sweater.

“What fun can be had at the stadium that isn’t the batting cages?” I asked Cael as we all walked the path down the hill. He was still glued to my side and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the constant contact.

Everyone else had gotten further ahead of us; Zoey still on Van’s back, as Dean and Ella laughed back and forth, locked in a conversation we couldn’t hear.

“You’ll see.” Cael shook his head. “Impatient as always.”

I didn’t notice him drop back as we broke out from the path to the road, his quickened footsteps startling me as he slipped to the outside and held something out to me.

I looked down and between his fingertips was a flower with soft pink petals that could fit into the center of my palm. It was a cherry blossom. “Where did you find this?”

“There’s a tree just before the path breaks, it's down off the ravine. It blooms twice a year,” he said. “Do you still put petals in books?” He asked me, his eyes searching for answers I couldn’t give him.

“I haven’t in a long time…” My brows knitted together tightly. It was a wonder that he even remembered that, it was a silly hobby of a little girl who had too much time on her hands.

Something that mimicked anger flickered across his face. “Shame.”

He didn’t say anything else on the matter as I tucked the flower into my pocket. “What?” I asked him, catching up to match his long stride.

“Your books used to be littered with them.” He stared straight ahead, watching the road and his friends with that same dark expression. I hated that, his eyes were so dark and void of the sparkle they usually had.

“People grow out of hobbies,” I said with a small huff, the air cold enough outside that evening that it fogged the moment it left my lips.

“You’re right, but it’s a shame no one buys you flowers you want to last forever.”

“That's a wild assumption, Cael.” I brushed him off.

He turned his head to look at me. “You didn’t grow out of the hobby or you wouldn’t have put the blossom in your pocket. Which means either no one was buying you flowers, or someone was buying you flowers you hate.”

I hated that he wasn’t wrong.

Julien always sent red roses. Fickle ugly things, with delicate petals that died in a week.

“You sound jealous,” I deflected with a smirk.

“Until the day I die, Clem,” he grumbled as we got to the empty parking lot of the stadium. I could feel the heat rising on my cheeks from his words but I turned my head up to the sky to let the cool air bite at them as we walked.

I would never get away from how easily flustered he made me. How such simple honesty held such power over my emotions. The wind messed up his hair and forced pieces against his forehead as he turned to look at me over his shoulder.

“Come on, slow poke.” He nodded toward the door which Ella scanned to unlock.

Dean grabbed it from her and held it open for all of us and we made our way through the dim stadium halls. He wandered ahead, saying something quiet to Ella as they rounded the corner toward the players entrance to the diamond.

I wanted to ask Cael what was wrong but it didn’t really seem like the time or place until Dean cleared his throat beside me.

“This time of the year is hard because it’s when she started to get really sick again. Cael has good days and bad days,” he explained as we walked past Coach’s office, the light still on but Ryan hidden behind all the boxes and clutter. “It’s worse this year because he’s sober.”

The words were like a knife to my chest; how I hadn’t noticed that he was sad long before today caused a guilty sensation to bubble up. But I nodded, listening carefully to Dean’s warning, his caution clearly warranted and coming from a place of love.

“Baby gloves,” I said quietly and he turned to nod at me before tapping two fingers to his chest. My whole body tightened at the sight of it but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just a gesture I hadn’t expected to ever see again. It was warm and fond as the memory cascaded over my shoulders.

“It’s ready.” Jensen came crashing around the corner from the tunnel with a shit-eating grin on his dumb face and his feet tangled together like strings.

All the worry from the day seemed to fade away and Cael’s smile returned to his face, although it was half-hearted and still full of grief, the light shimmered in his ocean eyes.

“Alright Plum.” He turned to me, framed by Ella and Dean. “During the off-season we started having team building nights most of the time, that included us getting absolutely shit faced, until Silas scared all of us straight and demanded that at least one team building exercise was dry.”

“We fought him on it,” Dean added seamlessly.

“What we’re about to show you we take very seriously. There are three rules and under no circumstances are you allowed to break any of them,” Cael explained with a sly grin.

“What is this, Fight Club?” I asked and Ella snorted.

“We wouldn’t be talking about it if it was,” Dean quipped, clearly proud of himself for catching the reference, because Ella leaned over with a tiny enthusiastic thumbs up.

“No filming, you can’t say no, and if ‘ Party in the USA’ is played you finish your drink.” Cael listed them off and I went to open my mouth about the drinking. “It’s juice.”

“You play drinking games with juice?” I laughed. A few pieces of my hair fell from the half bun it was pulled into and tickled my jaw as I moved my gaze between the three of them.

“One percent pure apple juice with no sugar added,” Dean said, trying to keep a straight face as he crossed his massive arms over his chest.

“Do you agree to the terms, Plum?” Cael asked, extending his hand to me.

“Fine.” I said, shaking it.

“Oh you’re so fucked,” Dean laughed as he and Ella turned on their heels out the tunnel.