Elliot was still scrambling for an explanation when she nodded, like she was pleased that they didn’t trash the house, and wished them a good night. Elliot let Blake keep on sleeping. He never told him about that.
Blake’s grandma turned into one of his favorite people eventually, with her big black cat and all the kale in the fridge and her lesbian friends.
“You don’t have to sit there, you know?” Evan says.
“Do you want me to go?”
Evan chews on his bottom lip. “I’m just saying you don’t have to.”
“Okay,” Elliot says. “Well, if you don’t want me to leave, I’ll sit here.”
Evan nods, fiddles with his phone, and Elliot thinks he made the right choice.
#
It’s strange, pulling into the parking lot of the Ravens’ practice facility. It’s even stranger to get out of the car and awkwardly hover in front of the door, because he can’t just walk inside.
The parking lot is dotted with your typical hockey player cars – Blake’s Jeep fits right in. But he’s literally standing here in a Knights shirt. He pulls out his phone and gives Evan another call, tells him that he’s outside and waits.
Evan shows up a few minutes later, escorted by Elliot, who’s looking at Blake like he’s a ghost.
“Hey,” Blake says.
Evan doesn’t say hello, he just walks right into him and hugs him. And Blake is still keeping it together. He mouths a thank you at Elliot over Evan’s shoulder.
Elliot nods.
“Okay, let’s go…” Blake says and nudges Evan over to the car.
Evan nods at Elliot, who lingers in the door for a moment, then slips back into the rink as Evan and Blake get into the car.
“You okay?” Blake asks.
Evan doesn’t look at him, only shakes his head and starts crying and somehow Blake is still keeping it together. He needs to get them home first. It’s almost like it hasn’t really sunken in yet.
Blake reaches out, squeezes Evan’s arm, and turns the key in the ignition. They’re not that far from home and the stop they make at Evan’s place to get some clothes for him only takes them ten minutes. By the time Blake pulls into the driveway of the house they grew up in, Evan has stopped crying, his eyes still rimmed red. The place looks like it always does; Blake isn’t sure why he thinks that it should be different.
They go in, the cats running to greet them, and Blake keeps it together.
He keeps it together all day. They meet up with Aunt Beth, they help her organize the funeral, they’re running from one office to the next all day and when they get back to the house in the evening Blake is absolutely exhausted, ready to drop into bed, and it’s only seven. He didn’t even do much, because Aunt Beth clearly knew what had to be taken care of. Blake was just driving her where she told him to go while she was making phone calls, Evan in the backseat, quietly wiping away tears.
Blake doesn’t know why he hasn’t cried yet. He isn’t a crier in the first place, but he knows that it’s coming and he wants to get it over with already. It’s been building up all day.
They drop off Aunt Beth at her house and they pick up dinner on the way home at a diner they used to go to when they were kids and they sit down at the kitchen table and Evan doesn’t eat and Blake doesn’t have it in him to make him, because he can barely convince himself to take a bite right now.
“I…” Evan says. He picks up his pickle and puts it down again. “I feel like I should have come home more often. I was barely here during the summer and… I just thought… I don’t know… Shit.”
Blake was here for a few weeks during the summer, but it makes no difference at all. They probably could have spent every single day of their lives here and it wouldn’t feel like it was enough.
“And…” Evan draws in a shuddering breath. “It’s just us now.”
“I know,” Blake says. He was thinking about that while he was on his way to pick up Evan. It’s just them now. Aunt Beth will still be around, they grew up with her popping in several times a week, but it’s not the same.
“I don’t even remember the last conversation I had with her, like, she called me on my day off and I was so distracted because I was about to go out with this girl and I–”
“Evan, don’t do that.” Blake puts his pickle on Evan’s plate because he always does, even though it looks like Evan isn’t going to eat anything.
Evan stares at him, then stares down at his burger. “She’d tell us off for having fucking burgers right now.”
“She’d also tell you off for saying fuck,” Blake says. “And she’d tell you off for not actually eating your food and just poking at it.”
“I hate this.”
Blake takes a deep breath. “Me too.”
He eats his food, watches Evan until he’s eaten his as well, including the pickle Blake gave him, then he shoves Evan out of the kitchen, cleans up their mess, and feeds Angus and the orange cat, Squid. His grandma always had the radio on in the kitchen, so now it seems too quiet. He can hear the murmur of the TV down the hall and finds Evan curled up on the couch, hugging a pillow.
Blake sits down by his feet, phone in hand. He pretty much ignored everything all day, has a few missed calls, a bunch of notifications from the team’s group chat, texts from Mattie and Noah. While he’s staring down at his phone, trying to figure out if he has it in him to reply
