Chapter Thirty (pt. 2) [Eli]

As more and more people keep flowing in, the recreational center starts to heat up.

My friends, cheeks flushed pink and eyes glimmering with laughter, don't seem bothered by the stuffy air, but I need to step outside for some air. I say this to Dean before disappearing and he just nods with a smile.

I leave my coat on the racks by the door and step out into the cool start of summer's night air in just my t-shirt.

She turns around when she hears the door open and we both freeze in place, staring at each other for a second, caught off guard.

"Didn't realize someone was out here already."

Natalie shrugs her shoulders, looking around at the buldings surrounding us. "Public street," she says.

"Not really. Guests and staff only," I mumble.

Nat nods, pursing her lips as she glances down at her feet. "I can go back in."

"No, it's fine. I can leave."

"You don't have to—"

"No, it's fine—"

"Eli," she interrupts me. "Seriously. I was about to head back inside anyway."

I nod. She walks past me and I step aside to let her get to the door. But, before she can enter—

"Nat."

She turns around.

"I, uh... I never really talked to you after... You know, after..."

She smiles softly. "Yeah, I do know. It's fine."

"I don't think it is." I shake my head.

She bites down on her lip, a small crease forming between her eyebrows as she looks at me, hands in her pockets. She's expecting me to say something.

"I just..." I trail off, scratching the back of my head over the beanie. As usual, struggling to find the words.

Nat and I dated for a full year. She asked me out after we were put in the same health class. I took her to the grill diner on the roadside between Brunson and Lake City, which was the only place in my budget, and after we had an honest good time eating together she made a casual deal of splitting the bill.

We spent a lot of time skating together at the rink and on the lake. She met my friends and they got along great, even though I never really met hers. I crossed paths with them, as people were bound to do in small towns, but her friends were always on another league, too caught up in their Lake City life. But Nat had a more grounded nature to her.

She was smart, and kind, and I really enjoyed spending time with her. I got no butterflies in my stomach when we kissed, and losing my virginity to her wasn't a world-rocking experience. But the thrill of being the object of someone's attraction, and being touched, and having someone care about me was all still there. I also cared about her, in a non-romantic way that made it so much easier to just hide in the comfortable protection she provided.

I was never much of a wordsmith, or a great feelings communicator, but there was a time when social situations were my thing. I just had a way with people. I liked making others laugh. So I repaid Nat's affection in my own way.

What we had wasn't my first love story, but it was still something that really mattered to me. More than the way she was always around in the beginning, I appreciated the way she gave me space after my parents died. When I didn't talk to anyone during the summer I spent with my first foster family, Nat would only occasionally text to say she hoped I was doing better and reassure me she was only a call away.

I never called, though.

When the school year started, I moved in with Owen's family and told myself I needed space from everyone to readjust to the new reality of the hometown that didn't really feel at all like my home anymore. Nat respected that, even if maybe she had a right not to.

When I broke up with her, on the night of the winter formal, I told her I just needed a break. She was hurt, but didn't pressure me into giving an explanation. She understood I was not in a place to give explanations when so much of my own life felt inexplicable to me.

I have always told myself the way I handled things between us was okay, because I would eventually go back and fix it. But how could I fix this?

It was more than just the way I handled the break-up. Our relationship had meant something completely different to the two of us. How do you fix something you've been screwing up from the start? How do you make ammends when you're not even ready to come clean quite yet?

You don't.

I can't.

"I'm sorry," I offer weakly. It feels so horribly inadequate. So insufficient.

Nat nods. Then shrugs. "You went through something horrible," she whispers softly. "I can tell you're still dealing with some things. I get it, Eli. I'm not holding a grudge."

"I know." I gulp. "But I thought I should still say it. Like I owe you that much." Especially when I can't give you what you deserve — an explanation.

"Thanks." She smiles. "Hope you do well in Calgary. It's good that you'll have Dean with you. He's a good friend."

"Yeah." I smile. "Will you have anyone at Weslyan?"

"No." She shakes her head. "Fresh start."

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes."

"What about skating?"

She laughs. "I love it. It will always be my passion. But I'm ready to find new passions now."

I nod. "I hope you do."

"Thanks," she says.

And just before the moment can go from clean to awkward, she turns to go back inside.

Without the immediate panic of possible confrontation, I start to feel the cold a little bit. But I don't go back inside just yet. Because, inside, there are people talking and laughing and having fun, and right now I need to be alone.

However, when the door opens to let out Dean and Owen, I don't feel an urge to get away. They walk up to stand beside me on the nearly deserted street.

"Hey, man," Owen says. "You said you needed air and then you completely disappeared. Thought you might have gotten lost."

"Or wasted," Dean adds. Because he just can't help his complete and total honesty.

I breathe out a silent laugh.

I know my friends worried. They've been worrying for two years. They don't mention it or press the subject, because they know I don't want to talk, but I can see it in the way they always keep an eye on me and never let more than a couple of hours go by without texting whenever we're not together. Even if it's just a stupid meme, just to a get a thumbs up emoji from me and know I'm alive.

And when I don't reply they don't really push either, but then they also know.

They both know a lot more than they let on, but neither knows as much as perhaps they should. And that's my fault.

I used to be a people's person before my parents died, and I haven't been quite myself lately. But therapy is helping. And one thing my therapist said was that a good starting point might be letting the ones who've always been around back in again.

I look at my friends as they stand next to me on the street.

"I'm seeing a therapist."

Owen and Dean share a look just between the two of them.

When they look back at me, I say, "Started three weeks ago. Saturday mornings."

Dean glances at Owen again. "How was it?" He asks me.

"I dunno."

I do actually, but it's hard to put into words.

This is Owen and Dean, though. Owen can communicate solid emotions with a single look, and we get it because it's us. And Dean once explained the entire plot of The Curse of the Black Pearl without once mentioning pirates, magic or ships, and we still got it because it's us and we understand each other.

I'm not a wordsmith and talking to people has been harder than ever lately, so I stopped trying. But I never used to make an effort with Owen and Dean before, because our friendship has always been effortless. Dean and I were bound to be best friends from the moment our fathers met as teammates at the Brunson High hockey team. And Owen slid in seamlessly, like the missing third piece, when he moved in next door fourteen years ago.

And lately, I pushed them so far into the background of my mind that it doesn't even feel like us anymore. I think I want that back. But I can't get it unless I make the move to bring them back in.

"It was strange," I say. "He asked me what brought me there. And then, when i didn't really say, he just asked me a bunch of stuff about my family and friends. What I do, what I like, what I don't, my eating habits, my sleeping habits... I kinda expected something a lot more... intense—" I shrug, "—but it was more like a get-to-know-you session."

"Were you comfortable to talk to him?" Owen asks.

"As much as you can be comfortable telling a stranger about your life," I say.

They smile.

"Actually," I shift my weight from one leg to the other, and then back to the first again, "it wasn't exactly like being with a stranger. It felt like... a break. Like, as soon as his office door closes I'm not talking to a stranger or a friend, he's just... my therapist, I guess."

Dean looks at me. "Do you think you'll keep it up during the summer?"

"Yeah," I answer. And then, because I know that's what he meant, "And I'll get one in Calgary too."

"That's good." Owen nods. "A pro athlete's life is hard. If you think therapy will help you, you should keep it up."

I smile tamely. Owen responds with another single head nod.

"Maybe I should go too," Dean muses.

"I agree," Owen says. "I saw the last English essay you submitted. You should probably get tested for dyslexia. I don't think I've ever seen so many different spellings of the word 'mockingbird'."

Dean's eyes widen. "You think so?"

"That you spelled 'mockingbird' wrong? Positive." Owen nods firmly. "There's no 'h' anywhere in that word and you slipped two in there once."

"Hilarious." Dean rolls his eyes.

"Maybe you should go too," I tell Owen. "Get tested for antisocial personality disorder."

Owen shoves his middle finger in my face and I laugh.

Dean frowns at the two of us. "What?"

"He's calling me a sociopath," Owen explains. "Dude goes to four therapy sessions and now he's the love child of John E. Douglas and Mark Olshaker."

"I don't know who those people are," Dean admits.

"I told you to watch Mindhunter," Owen exclaims.

"I didn't like it," Dean throws back in his defense. "It's too dark. Eli was with me when I watched the pilot. Tell him."

"He did have a nightmare that night." I nod.

Owen scoffs. "You're the one who made us watch Saw, and you can't handle Mindhunter?!"

"Saw is just torture porn," Dean exclaims. "Your shows make me feel weirdly violated. Like, in my head."

"Think that's your brain functioning. It oughtta feel foreign to you," Owen shoots back.

"That is mean," Dean complains.

"It's honest," Owen counters.

I shrug. "It was a little mean."

"Ooh, ooh." Dean jumps excitedly. "Maybe we could all go to therapy. Like a couple session, but for bros."

Owen snorts. "Yeah, sure. Final bonding experience before you two ditch me to go pro."

"We're not the ones ditching you. You're the one moving to Boston to be Mr College," Dean argues.

And wow. All year long I had so much on my head. This is the first time it actually downed on me. Next year, we will no longer be a trio. There's no more after-practice dinners at Owen's, listening him read his study cards aloud to me while I fall asleep. No more pizza nights at Dean's, watching hockey with Coach Miller before we go off to pull an all-nighter in Dean's bedroom. No more weekend morning practices just the three of us.

I'll have Dean, but we won't be in Brunson anymore. And Owen will be in Boston, two thousand miles away from us.

There's a completely new chapter of our lives starting. But a whole volume of it is closing as well.

***

And that's the last of Eli you'll read until the sequel!

What did you think of this chapter? There was no Liam in this part, but Nat, Owen and Dean had some prominent roles — how do you feel about these characters? Personally, they're some of my favorites from this story and I have a few things planned for them for the sequel.

(Yes, there is a sequel taking place four/five years after the end of this book, for those of you asking)

What other characters would you like to see more developed in the sequel? I have plans to focus more on side plots, now that the main characters' story will be set, but I'd like to hear about your expectations. I have an outline of the sequel in my head, but I haven't written anything down yet, so who knows — could still probably add, cut or tweak some things ;)

As always, thanks for reading. We're almost done!