Power Plays & Straight A's - Eden Finley Page 0,44

Zach …”

“That was a one-time deal.”

“Was it? I don’t recall a timeframe. Maybe I meant forever.”

“Maybe I meant to do this.” My brother flips me off.

“Nice.” I throw myself on the couch next to him and try to ignore the weird energy between us.

He’s watching some National Geographic show about snow leopards. It’s boring as fuck, but I don’t ask him to change it. I kinda feel like I don’t have a right to ask my brother for favors right now.

“How’s Zach?” he eventually asks. “I haven’t heard from him since the game.”

At least I’m not the only one Zach’s avoiding.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since Monday.”

“What did you do?”

I huff. “I didn’t do anything. Well, not really. I might’ve told him I wanted to fuck him. Maybe.”

“Jesus Christ,” Seth mutters.

“Well, it was more eloquent than that.” Not by much, but still. “But I haven’t seen him since. Or spoken to him. Or messaged him. You’re his best friend. What does it mean when he goes radio silent?”

Seth points at me. “This. Right here. This is why I didn’t want you two getting involved with each other. I refuse to be in the middle of you two and that includes giving advice on either one of you. I’m Switzerland.”

“Did you know Switzerland wasn’t completely neutral? They allowed Nazis to transport Jews through the country on their train lines.”

My brother’s eyes narrow. “I didn’t know you knew stuff.”

“I know lots of things. I don’t know why people think I’m dumb because I play sports.”

“Wow, hot jock and brains. No wonder Dad’s so proud.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Has he said something?”

Seth grunts. “No. No more than the usual anyway. If I do well this year, I’m all set to graduate top of my class with basically my choice of grad schools, but all Dad can talk about is how his hothead of a son blew the most important hockey game of the season.”

“The season hasn’t even started yet! It was a stupid game that’s gotten too big over the years. People think it’s important when it’s not. Everyone needs to let it go. I have.”

“Well, yeah, I already play second fiddle to you with Dad. I’m not going to do it with Zach.”

“You can give advice while staying out of it, you know. I don’t know how to read Zach. You do.”

Seth pauses. “It’s either one of two things: you scared him off and now he’s hiding, or he’s legit too busy studying and being Zach. He might not realize three days have passed or that you even exist in the same universe anymore.”

“That … doesn’t help at all. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

He goes back to watching his documentary, and I think that’s that, but nope. About five minutes later, he turns the TV off and swivels on the couch to face me.

“Why him?” There’s something in his tone. I can’t tell if it’s anger, resentment, or he plain can’t understand it. “You could literally have anyone on your campus. Why my best friend?”

“In queer terms, your best friend is hot.”

Seth folds his arms and scowls.

“I always thought he was cute, but you told me I wasn’t allowed to go there, so I didn’t. It was easy when I barely ever saw him. Then you asked me to look out for him, and it turns out I like him. I think he’s funny, and not in a making fun of him way. In a genuine way. His outlook on life is different, and he doesn’t even try to fit in. He doesn’t care.”

“Hmm, it makes sense you’d admire that side of him.”

“What do you mean?”

“When Dad forced us both into skates when we were seven, do you remember how sucky we both were? I gave up almost immediately, but you … it was like you forced yourself to learn how to do it so you’d be more accepted.”

I want to dispute that, but it’s probably the truth. I’ve worked hard, so fucking hard, to get to where I am, and it wasn’t easy. I wasn’t a natural skater.

And maybe, just maybe, back when we were that young I knew I was different. I knew I liked boys more than girls, and I still hadn’t completely figured it out seven years later when I came out to my brother. But I did know I was different. And that hockey players were cool.

“That might have something to do with it,” I admit.

“What do you actually want with him?”

I open my mouth to say

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