horribly, getting better grades on some than on others, so he supposed he’d been successful. He was meeting the minimum GPA requirements necessary to keep being a Mountaineer, so there was that. He’d never had Casey’s grades anyway, and never expected to.
“I don’t think things will slow down until after exams,” he said. And even then it would be temporary, with things picking up again with the start of the new term in January.
“How are your classes going?”
“Ah . . .”
Briefly, a memory popped up, front and center. A fifteen-year-old Ethan crept into his parents’ bedroom a few weeks after Mom died, desperate for Dad’s comfort. Desperate to talk about Mom, to remember. When he tried with his sisters, it just made them cry.
“Dad? Can you tell me again how you and Mom met?”
Dad had stared at him, unseeing, before rolling over on the bed and giving Ethan his back.
Shaking himself out of the memory, he sucked in a breath of cold air. “Classes are . . .” good, he meant to say, but something made him tell the truth. “Actually, they’re harder than I expected. And trying to keep up with coursework and studying on top of hockey is kind of kicking my ass.” He let out a huff of unamused laughter that clouded in front of him.
There was a beat of silence on Dad’s end, then a cleared throat and a gruff, “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You’ve always been resourceful. Now let’s talk about Saturday’s game! Laura and I watched on the GH website. Sorry about the loss.”
Ethan stared at his feet, shoulders up to his ears. Dad didn’t want to hear about his problems. Right. Why should anything have changed in the past five years?
“You win some, you lose some,” he said dully. “Hey, Dad, I’ve got to go. I’m supposed to meet Casey.”
“Tell him I said hello. And do me a favor and call Laura tonight? She’s got a math test coming up that she could use your help with. You know how I am at math.” Dad chuckled, the sound inviting Ethan to join in.
All he could do was force a smile. “Sure thing.”
It was warm inside the store, and he blew out a breath, the bells on the door jangling behind him. The front of the store was a long stretch of hallway. Several feet up, it opened into a larger space, curving to the right where there was a cash desk and, beyond that, the storage room.
Ethan liked it here. What Casey called cluttered and disorganized, Ethan called cozy and charming. He especially liked Sasha the kitten, and the way Casey’s eye twitched when something wasn’t put back in its place, and more than that, the expression that lit Casey’s face whenever Ethan dropped by unannounced.
Speaking of the kitten, here was Sasha, trotting up to him as he pocketed his phone. Picking her up, he cuddled her in his arms and let her knead the fabric of his coat at his shoulder.
“Have you been taking good care of Casey?”
She didn’t answer.
As he approached the back of the store, Joyce’s voice drifted out to him. “Forget hydrogen, you’re my number one element.” The button he’d pinned to Casey’s backpack weeks ago. “Did a girlfriend give you that?”
“No. Ethan,” came Casey’s voice, and just the sound of it lifted Ethan’s spirits.
“A boyfriend then. I thought there was something more between you the first time you came by.”
“What? No.” Casey sounded bewildered. “Why does everyone think we were together when we weren’t?”
“Hm.” There was the sound of papers rifling. “There was something between you. I don’t know how to explain it. A familiarity? Comfort? Quiet intimacy? It spoke of something deeper than friendship, so I assumed you were together.”
Ethan had never needed validation that he and Casey were perfect together, but hearing someone else acknowledge that truth squared his shoulders, and he stepped around the corner with a grin on his face.
“Hey, Eth.”
If it was possible for his soul to happy dance, it would have at the delighted grin Casey gave him.
Casey’s lips went flat when he spotted Sasha perched on Ethan’s shoulder. “She likes you better than me. I guess there’s no accounting for taste.”
Throwing his head back, Ethan laughed, depositing Sasha onto the counter next to Casey’s open laptop. “That’s rich coming from you.” The guy who’d had his tongue down Ethan’s throat just yesterday. “Hi, Joyce.”
“Hello, Ethan. What brings you by?”
“Just popping in to visit with Casey.” She normally wasn’t