Little Lies

Like my parents, BJ’s live an hour or so away. They bought a piece of property on Lake Geneva a few years ago, and when our dads—along with my uncle Miller—decided to start their own training camp, they moved out there too. It didn’t hurt that some of their former teammates and friends had also moved back to the area.

So of course that means BJ’s parents are coming to assess the damage. Within the hour, I have a call from my mom, telling me they’re coming too, along with the Romeros and the Bowmans.

BJ and I end our respective calls, during which there is no room for argument, and both exhale the same, long, distressed breath. It sucks that we’re the only ones here to deal with this.

“My parents aren’t going to tell Mav before the game,” I report.

BJ yanks on his beard a couple of times. If he keeps doing that, he’s going to start pulling it out. “Yeah, but, like, everyone on the block has seen the spectacle, and for sure people were recording it out there and posting it. Someone’s gonna send something to the guys.”

I bang my head on BJ’s biceps. He’s right. It’s going to get back to them. “I guess it’s better coming from us?”

“Probably.”

“I’ll call my brothers?” River might be at practice, but if he catches wind that BJ’s house caught on fire, he’ll be worried because those two are pretty tight. I make a face like I’ve sucked on a lemon. “You can call Quinn and Kodiak? Or Mav can tell them?”

BJ nods resolutely and pulls up his contact list while I call Mav and tell him what happened.

“Oh shit, Kody’s gonna flip his lid.” Is pretty much all Mav has to say.

After that, I call my twin. I assure him everything is okay and he tells me he’ll be home in a couple of hours.

BJ and I sit on my back deck, where the nosy bastards who are filming and posting on social media can’t see us. There’s now a police barricade at the end of the street to keep people from driving by. Neighbors are throwing porch parties, watching the fire crew clean up. It seems like the worst of it has been taken care of, but the air is sharp with smoke.

“Everything is going to smell like a freaking campfire. Kody is going to lose his mind.” BJ keeps rubbing his beard.

I tip my head back and look up at the sky. “Do you think he’ll have a meltdown?” Kodiak has always been very particular about his things.

“Absolutely.” BJ laces his hands behind his head. “He’s being a fucking idiot.”

I glance at BJ. “What do you mean?”

“He’ll for sure have some sort of massive attack, and it won’t be pretty because he’s Kody, but I’m not talking about the house. I mean with you. He’s being an idiot. I know he’s been nothing but a dick to you.”

“He really hasn’t been anything to me since we were kids.” Such a stupid lie.

“If you want to play it that way, you go right ahead. But I’ve known both of you my entire life. You two were tight, like it was . . .” He shakes his head. “I remember being jealous as a kid.”

“Jealous? Of what?”

“I don’t know exactly. It’s weird. Everyone wanted to protect you all the time, and I get why, because you went through a lot.”

Like everyone else, BJ talks around the carnival incident.

“River has always been the worst, and I understand why, ’cause he’s your twin, but Kody, man, he lived for you, and you were the same. You had this thing no one could touch. It drove River fucking insane.”

“Everything drives River insane, and we were kids.”

“Nothing drives River more insane than the way Kody was with you, and you know it.”

I nod because it’s true.

BJ crosses one leg over the other. “I get that we were kids, but like I said, it’s weird shit. We all knew it was something way bigger. Like, I’m tight with Quinn and River as much as anyone can be, but you and Kody were an extension of each other. He’s never been like that with anyone else. He even keeps Maverick at arm’s length. But back when we were kids, when you moved, he moved. You were completely in sync with each other. It was like watching a perfect-ten pairs performance on the ice.”

I’ve watched BJ skate pairs competitions before. He’s absolutely amazing, and it’s easy to see why pretty much every partner he’s ever had falls hopelessly in love with him. He pretends it isn’t happening.

I consider how my relationship with Kodiak must have appeared to our friends. BJ’s right; Kodiak and I always had a very strange kind of connection.

“Everyone thought it was so cute, but after that night you got locked in the closet, things changed.” BJ looks away from his smoking house, all sorts of questions in his eyes.