Blake’s lips twitch. “They’re good guys. Even the insane ones.”
“Looks like Trainor’s fitting in well,” Elliot says.
“Yeah, although the guys keep calling him Choo Choo and I think he’s gonna snap one of these days. I’ll be surprised if we all make it back from that roadie in one piece.”
They finish their drinks and Elliot walks Blake back to Penn Station, like he always does. He’ll take the Subway from there.
“Hey, when’s the next time we see each other?” Blake asks.
“December, I think?” Elliot says, even though he knows it’s December 2nd. He doesn’t want it to look like he has all of their games memorized. He just happened to stumble across the date the other day.
“We should hang out before that.”
“Yeah,” Elliot says.
“You can cook for me. Something crispy, yeah?”
Elliot gives him a shove in reply.
“I swear to God, if we weren’t friends, I’d think you’re trying to injure me.”
“Sorry,” Elliot says and goes in for a hug. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Yeah, we’ll compare schedules,” Blake says and hugs him back, ruffling Elliot’s hair before he goes.
#
They manage to hang out a couple of times, but their schedules usually clash and most of the time there’s no point in going to each other’s places when they can’t hang out for that long anyway. They try to meet in the middle, which is somewhere around Penn Station. It’s not actually the middle, but it’s better than the alternative.
Blake spends most of his time off at Charlie’s, or Charlie will come downstairs, hug both of Blake’s cats and then complain because Blake’s grilled cheese is not as good as his. It’s true. Charlie’s grilled cheese is a revelation and Blake’s grilled cheese is… just regular grilled cheese.
Charlie now sits next to him on the plane, always gripping the armrest, knuckles going white as the plane takes off. Blake offered his hand on their second flight together and Charlie took it, head ducked, probably hoping that no one would see. Blake is pretty sure that only Mattie noticed and Mattie generally couldn’t give less of a shit about chirping anyone. He keeps telling Blake that he’s getting too old for all sorts of stuff, chirping included.
They go to Toronto, then Winnipeg, then Minneapolis and Charlie’s parents come to the game and Charlie’s mom gives Blake a hat she knitted, in Knights colors, and thanks him for showing Charlie around in the summer. Which is funny, because Charlie’s a year older than him and doesn’t need a babysitter.
“She thinks I’m absolutely useless as an adult,” Charlie says to Blake on the plane. “And she’s right. But does she have to say it?”
“You’re doing okay on your own.”
“I had to call my dad the other day because I didn’t know what a roux was. And don’t ask me what happened when I got a Costco membership.”
Blake can’t help but snort.
“See?” Charlie says. “I am useless.”
“You make really good cookies, though.”
“True. My only redeeming quality.”
Brammer’s head appears between the seats in front of them. “Choo Choo, you make cookies?”
“Yeah,” Charlie says, “but only for people who don’t call me Choo Choo.”
Brammer sticks out his bottom lip and disappears again.
“My mom hates cooking, she only bakes, so the first thing I learned how to make were cookies,” Charlie says, voice lower now. “And then there’s obviously the hat thing… Don’t feel like you have to wear it or anything, by the way.”
“I like it,” Blake says.
Charlie’s smile is soft and sheepish. “Okay.” He wiggles in his seat. “Where do your parents live? Do they ever come to games?”
Brammer resurfaces, glaring. “Hey, Choo Choo–”
“Bram, sit down,” Blake says.
Brammer pulls a face, but does sit down.
“My parents died when I was eleven,” Blake says lowly.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry…” Charlie chews on his bottom lip. “I shouldn’t have asked, I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay, you didn’t know.”
Charlie wiggles again. He’s so nervous on planes, poor guy, and this conversation isn’t making this flight any less awkward for him.
“It was a really long time ago,” Blake says, “and I… I mean, I miss them, and it sucks that they can’t come and see me play, but… I’m all right. It’s not like you can’t mention your parents around me or talk about families or whatever.”
During the season, it always hurts the most during the dads’ trip, but after a few years of this, Blake knows that it’s coming and their PR team has made sure that Blake could pretty much disappear.
Charlie shoots him a glance, then he whispers, “My dad isn’t actually… He’s my stepdad. The other guy left when I was four.”
“Sorry, man,” Blake says.
“Like, I’m not trying to go for pity points or whatever,” Charlie mumbles, “just… if you wanna talk about stuff. I don’t know. I’m probably not the first person you’d go to, but…”
Blake has never really talked to anyone about his parents, other than his grandma and Evan. When they were home, him and Evan, usually Evan, would say, “I miss Mom and Dad,” and Blake would say, “Me, too.” And then sometimes Evan would pull out stories, mumble them to Blake, and then say, “Sometimes I don’t know if the way I remember them is actually the way they were.” And Blake never really knew what to say in return. When they were little, their grandma would talk about their parents a lot, when they got older, it was a lot more of, “Your parents would be so proud,” and, “I wish they could see you right now.” And Blake never knew what to say in return to that either. That he wished they could see him, too? Of course he wanted them around. Of course
