Page 44 of Ethan

“You like him,” Avery pointed out.

“Yeah, in a lot of ways. As a friend first, absolutely. He’s a cool guy. Smart, actually. Smarter than any of us.”

“And yet you’re the one in college,” Avery said dryly.

“That means jack shit, and you know it.”

“Oh, I know,” Avery said. “So he’s smart. Funny, yeah?”

“How’d you know?”

“Please, you’ve got a good sense of humor. Someone would have to be sharp and funny to keep up with you. And he seems to be. Plus, there’s what Charlie’s told me.”

“Oh,” Ethan said a little stupidly. Charlie hadn’t really offered many opinions of Hank to Ethan directly, and Ethan hadn’t asked, because he wasn’t sure he wanted to get into it. Didn’t want another lecture, for sure.

“Let me guess, Charlie didn’t tellyou.” Avery laughed. “God, what are we gonna do with him?”

“Put him in a lab and study how someone so dumb can be so good at hockey?”

“Hush,” Avery said, but he was still laughing.

“I didn’t ask either,” Ethan admitted.

“So,” Avery said, “do you think he likesyou?”

“Charlie? I think half the time he kind of can’t stand me.”

Avery shook his head. “No, dummy.Hank.”

“Oh. Um. Well. We haven’t talked about it. Not specifically. Not exactly.”

“But you talk all the time,” Avery said.

And yeah, they fucking did. It had been on the tip of Ethan’s tongue to invite him to the lake house a dozen times already this summer. To make a barely veiled attempt to get an invite up to Toronto, where Hank was staying with his parents.

But he hadn’t, even though he wanted it so fucking bad. Even though he’d not gotten the call-up at the end of the season that he’d hoped for, and the closest Ethan had ended up being to New York was Michigan.

“Yeah, but we’re friends, you know?” Ethan shrugged, like that explained it all. But he knew it didn’t. At least not on his end. He couldn’t say for sure about Hank’s end, but hehoped, anyway.

Hoped, even as he tried not to get too ahead of himself before they were even in the same state again. By the time they saw each other in person again, it would’ve been a whole year. Twelve months, fifty-two weeks, three hundred sixty-five days, and it would’ve been like nothing—and everything—had changed.

“I don’t talk tomyfriends as much as you talk to Hank,” Avery pointed out dryly, “but if that’s the angle you wanna take, I’m not going to argue with you.”

“You’re such a giver,” Ethan retorted.

“But Iamgonna remind you again of the Avery’squeer-is-okaypep talk, if you need it.”

“I don’t think I will,” Ethan said.

Avery raised an eyebrow.

“Not because I don’t think anything’s gonna happen.” God,God, Ethan really hoped something would, but he’d been trying to reconcile himself if Hank wasn’t ready for it, yet, like the first fucking moment they saw each other again. “Because I know being queer is okay. You and Charlie are chill, you know?”

“Chill. Alright. I’ll take it.” Avery flashed him an unexpectedly bright smile. “But we’re not calling Charlie chill, not under any circumstances.”

“What’s this,” Charlie retorted as he pushed the glass patio door closed and flopped down onhischair. “Talking bullshit about me when I’m not even here. Not cool. Not cool at all.”

“You don’t even know what we were saying,” Avery reasoned.