I chew my nail, suddenly unsure. I’m usually consumed with pulling my partners closer, wanting them with me every second of the day, and now here I am actively working to push him away. I feel sick.
But I also feel like I’ve made the right choice.
I can only hope he agrees with me.
We don’t hear a word about the application after I send it. The good news is, Richie has no idea, so if he doesn’t get a call for an interview, he won’t be disappointed. That disappointment is all mine.
I’m back to working my ass off with coursework, and the hockey team is thrown into regionals. It means we haven’t seen each other as much as we normally would have. It sucks, but it also means I don’t have that dishonesty hanging over my head.
Richie’s game tonight is in Worcester, Massachusetts, so he spends the day on the bus with the team, and it takes all of my self-control not to call him and wish him luck. The good luck blowjob I gave him last night will have to be sufficient.
Zach and I grab lunch at Bean There before driving the three and a half hours to watch Richie’s game. The team only has to win these two games, one tonight and one tomorrow, and they’ll secure their spot in the Frozen Four. On the flip side, one loss means they’re out. How do athletes do this every season? My heart’s in my throat the whole day, and I’m not even playing.
Zach works through the notes on his thesis on the drive because he’s close to finishing it up. At this rate, he’ll have his doctorate before I’m even done with my master’s, and looking at the silver lining, by the time I start my doctorate, Zach might be ready for his second. Maybe he’ll kick my ass into gear to get it done faster.
And as Zach talks about his move, I can see his plans taking place.
But not for him—for me.
Packing up at the end of summer and moving to Montreal. Living with Richie. Using any time he’s away with the team for study and getting through my coursework during the day so I can spend the time he’s home with him—assuming he travels at all. Joining Zach to cheer on Foster at home games.
That is, if Richie and I work out.
I have no reason to think we won’t other than the fact we’re young, and that’s a lot of pressure. But if Zach isn’t letting it hold him back, why should I?
The arena is already full of energy when we finally get there, and Zach and I seem to be little navy and silver dots in a sea of blue, red, and white.
Zach and I get seats as close to the rink as possible. I’m buzzing for Richie, feeling as invested in this game as any of Foster’s. The team is hungry for a back-to-back Frozen Four win. Jacobs and Beck are tense, Richie confessed last night he’s worried this game will be his last ever, and when we all caught up last weekend, even Asher kept to himself.
It’s a lot of pressure—one loss and they’re out of the whole tournament—but I’m keeping every damn appendage crossed that they make it through.
I know Richie’s final hockey game is coming, and I know it’s going to be hard on him to say goodbye, but if he ends it all with a second Frozen Four win, that’ll make hanging up his skates so much easier.
The pregame show seems to take forever, and when the players are announced, Zach and I scream for Richie when he appears. My gut is in knots, but the team looks confident, and from the second the puck drops, they’re on the attack.
Jacobs, Richie, and Asher work together so well, you’d never have believed they had issues earlier in the season. Their first goal comes easy thanks to Asher, and Richie follows it up quickly with another of his own. I jump out of my seat screaming, and Richie does a quick glance around. He smiles when he spots me in the crowd of people scowling up at me. I don’t give a fuck about them.
Zach and I have somehow managed to sit in UMass land. There’re others who made the road trip out here from CU, but we’re only forty minutes from the UMass campus, so it makes sense there’re more of them here.
Play starts again, and my high from Richie’s goal doesn’t last long. By the end of the first period, UMass has closed the gap and evened the score. My nerves are shot as UMass pulls ahead in the second period. Then Richie and Asher make an amazing play that’s so fast, I barely keep up. They light up the lamp before the goalie even knows what’s happened, so by the final period, they’re only one behind.