Jayden

Hunter's house smells like a candle has permeated the drywall. It's a little overwhelming, but somehow makes the space more comfortable. It's strange to be here alone—Hunter is picking up Brenna and Ella—but I don't feel like I'm invading on the Tuckers' privacy. Hunter did give me the code for the garage, after all.

Trudging through the hallway, I enter the kitchen and heave the bags up onto the island. The cloth grocery bags are full of snacks and drinks: pop, potato chips, several different types of dip, and some reusable plastic cups for water and other drinks. There are also some drink mixes for margaritas and pina coladas.

For a moment, I stare at the bags, my mind lost in thought. Unfortunately, the thoughts are too negative, and the last thing I want to do is ruin the party.

Instead of dwelling over my parents, I distract myself by rummaging through the cupboards and drawers until I find bowls for the chips and dip. I fill the bowls and place them on the coffee table in the living room. Then I organize the drinks.

By the time I've set everything up, Nick, Drew, Evren, and Catina have arrived. They enter the kitchen while I'm nursing a glass of water and scrolling through my Instagram feed.

"Jayden!" Nick says, clapping me on the back. "When did you get here?"

I glance at my phone and shrug. "About thirty minutes ago. Hunter gave me the code for the garage." I jerk my head in the direction of the coffee table. "There are snacks on the coffee table."

"Sick. Let's go, Ev." Drew says. He takes Evren's hand and tugs her into the living room, leaving me, Nick, and Catina in the kitchen.

I set my drink down, watching as Nick starts collecting shot glasses and alcohol. "What are you doing?"

He grins at me over his shoulder. "Making us drinks."

While Nick concocts some kind of drink, Catina joins me by the sink. I immediately become uncomfortable. Unless I'm overthinking this, there's a high possibility she has a crush on me. Although I should tell her I'm not interested, I don't have the ability to hurt her. Catina is a little pushy, but she's a good person.

"Hey," she smiles.

I stuff my phone in my pocket, giving her my full attention. "Hey. How's it going? Happy classes are done until January?"

Catina rolls her eyes. "Ugh. Yes. I love the holidays." She pauses, picking at her nails. "How about you?"

Crossing my arms, I shrug again while also wondering if I've spent too much time with Shea. "It's not much of a break, to be honest. Hockey's still going strong. Lots of games lined up after Christmas. We have another tournament."

"Mhmm," she nods. "Lots of games."

We exchange a glance, and I note the peculiar expression on her face. Her lips are pulled to one side and she won't look at me for more than a second.

"Okay," I smile. "What the hell's going on? You're acting cagy, Cat."

Her shoulders deflate in sync with her sigh. She lowers her voice and says, "Don't say a word to anyone else, but I've been thinking about what Brenna said. About me taking Connor's place and playing for your guys' team." She goes back to picking her cuticles. "It would be nice for another girl to be in the league, right? Then Brenna would have some support and I could... I could see what the league is like."

My eyes widen. "Cat! That would be fantastic! You're ten times the goalie Connor is. We could certainly use you on our team."

Just then, Nick joins us, handing each of us a drink. "Bottoms up, sexy babies. Let's get this fucking party started. The rest of them can catch up later."

When I look at the concoction in the shot glass, I almost puke. "What the hell is in here?"

Nick squints at his shot glass. "Something, J. Just drink it."

"To hockey," Cat says.

I clink my shot glass against hers. "To new beginnings."

"To shitty drinks!" Nick laughs.

We toss back our shots (even though I feel a little guilty breaking the law) and set the glasses down on the counter.

Catina wrinkles her nose and fakes a gag. "What the hell is that?"

"Alligator sperm," Nick grins. "Melon liqueur and pineapple juice with a teaspoon of cream on top."

It's my turn to gag. Whether it's because of the name or the contents, I'm not sure. Either way, it's an all-around disgusting drink. "That's nasty. It's liked curdled milk that's been dyed green."

Nick throws his hands up. "Hence the shitty drink toast, J." He claps me on the back again. "Keep up, man. The night is still young. We're not even shit-faced yet."

I give him a look. "There's no way I'm getting shit-faced tonight. However..." I reach behind him and grab one of the beers. "I do need to wash that down with something better."

Using the mini-bottle opener, I remove the lid and take a long sip. I'll probably be nursing the same beer until the night ends, but at least having a drink in my hand will steer Nick away from getting me shit-faced. He can work his so-called magic on the rest of the group.

"Yeah," Catina nods. "I need a drink, too." Leaving Nick and I behind, she saunters over to the fridge, where she removes a gin smash from it. She cracks the can open and takes a sip.

Nick gives her a puzzled look. "When did you get alcohol?"

"Yesterday," she replies. "Hunter's mom picked it up for us. And by 'us,' I mean me and Brenna. After she got approval from my mom and Brenna's mom, though."

The compliment directed at Hunter's mom makes my chest ache. I wish I could compliment my parents the same way. Praise them for doing something good. Instead, they turned their backs on me and decided to isolate their child.

I take another sip of my beer, letting the bitter taste will away the tears. Then I look at the bottle, thinking that maybe getting shit-faced won't be so bad after all.

*  *  *

My earlier plans of getting shit-faced are obscured by rationale. With the Christmas present exchange coming up and a heated game of Monopoly occurring, I haven't had time to wallow in my self-pity. Instead, I'm watching Nick and Catina argue over fake money.

"Come on!" Nick shouts.

Catina shakes her head. "Nope. Give up the game or mortgage your property."

Nick's mouth goes slack. "For eleven dollars in rent money?"

Catina's expression doesn't falter. She stares Nick down with vengeance until he tosses his money to the board and says, "Fuck this. I'm out."

After dividing his properties and money, he slouches against the couch and crosses his arms, muttering curse words while sipping his drink.

"Monopoly," Ella sighs. "The board game that destroys relationships."

Chuckling, I turn to the cooler beside my feet and I reach down to grab a gin smash. Ever since she sat down, Brenna's been sipping her drink and shifting her gaze to the hallway. KJ and Shea still haven't arrived, and I think Shea's lack of presence is bothering her. She'll never admit it, though, so I don't bother asking her.

"Brenna!" I wave the can in the air. "Catch!"

She catches it with ease and flips it upright to read the label. She smiles before opening the can and taking a long sip.

I also pass one to Ella, who smiles but doesn't open the drink. Instead, she stares down the hallway.

Glancing between the girls, I try not to laugh. Both are so hung-up over their guys, yet there are so many problems churning between each couple. Brenna won't admit she's in love with Shea. Shea keeps flirting with Brenna but can't seem to catch her attention. Ella and KJ... well, their story is a different one. There are external factors (AKA Ella's dad) that are messing with their relationship.

A sinking feeling spreads through my chest again. My parents would never judge their sexuality. To them, and most of society, being heterosexual is the norm. Being bisexual? That's a sin. Apparently I'm doing it to have my options. If I can't lasso anyone from one side in, then I'm using the other side to get laid.

I take another sip of my beer, just as KJ enters the room.

"KJ," Hunter says. He pushes away from the couch and gives him a half-hug. A sharp clap on the back. "When did you get here?"

"We let ourselves in," KJ replies. "Figured the party would be raging."

Although it's great to see KJ, I wonder where Shea is. Did he decide not to come to the party? Or did something come up?

"Where's Smith?" Hunter asks.

KJ jerks his thumb over his shoulder. "Gathering presents. He should be in right about... now."

Shea appears behind KJ like a ghost. One minute he's not there, and the next he is. I draw my bottom lip between my teeth and look away, trying to ignore his tan-coloured pants and dark-red dress shirt. His messy hair and the smooth skin of his chest.

I take another sip of my drink.

"Fuck," Catina whisper-yells. "He's hot."

Brenna elbows her in the ribs. "Shut up."

"Someone's bothered," Drew snickers.

When I glance at Brenna, all I can see is rage in her blue eyes. I have the urge to warn Drew and Catina about Brenna's rage, but I decide not to. They can learn the lesson themselves.

"Hey, Smith," Hunter says.

"Tucker."

They exchange a fist bump before KJ asks, "Where do we put the presents?"

Hunter points at the tree. "Right there. Can I get you anything to drink?"

The bag hanging from KJ's arm swings. "Already covered. Thanks, though."

Shea clears his throat. "Got any tea? I'm driving, and it was cold outside gathering the presents."

Brenna jumps to her feet. "I can put the kettle on."

Drew and Catina snort, but I'm not paying attention to them and their potentially short-lived lives.

When Brenna offers to put the kettle on for Shea, a wave of conflicting emotions engulfs me.  There's way too much eagerness in her voice. Too much vigor in her step. I'm happy that, with every passing second, Brenna and Shea get closer to admitting their feelings for each other—it's about fucking time. But I can't say it doesn't hurt to watch Shea fall in love with someone else.

Once upon a time, I had a crush on Brenna. Although she's a threat on the ice, I can't help admiring her skills and determination. She's also gorgeous. But now that Connor's bet has taught Shea some hard lessons, the crush has shifted. I like this version of Shea. He's mellowed out and knows the difference between right and wrong.

There's just one problem: I don't want to lose my friendship with him. That's why I haven't said anything.

That, and Brenna is head-over-heels for him.

So I guess there are two reasons.

Bringing the bottle of beer to my lips, I take a long sip, trying to suppress the smirk. It doesn't work. When Brenna catches my eye, she furrows her eyebrows. Judging by her expression and posture, she definitely wants to do more than frown at me. Something tells me the next time our teams play against each other, I'll be the target.

Shea stares after Brenna and runs a hand through his hair. I watch as conflicting emotions pass across his handsome face, wishing I could be the one to comfort him. But I know it's a pipe dream.

Especially when he wanders after Brenna without glancing back at the rest of us.

*  *  *

When Truth or Dare begins, I remove myself from the room. This group is relentless with the rules—I can't count how many times I've kissed KJ or Nick throughout the years. Normally, I'm okay with that. But tonight? I just can't do it. Especially if the bottle lands on Shea. There are too many emotions bottled up in my chest to risk kissing him in front of everyone. And after the shitty experience of telling my parents I'm bisexual, I also don't want to risk losing my friends.

Cutting through the kitchen, I grab another bottle of beer. It's only the second bottle tonight, so there's no buzz in my head. Nothing to curb the ache in my chest.

Bottle in hand, I head down the hallway and notice the door to the backyard patio ahead. Sitting outside and getting some fresh air might be helpful to clear my head, but I know my sweater will not be enough.

Glancing over my shoulder, I set my beer down on the floor and open the closet. I feel like I'm invading private space, but I don't think Hunter will mind me borrowing a blanket.

Once I have the blanket and my beer, I saunter down the hallway and exit the house. Outside, my breath dissipates into the air in white clouds. The cold air bites at my cheeks and turns my nose red, but I ignore the chill and sit down.

The patio is a nice space. It's covered, so the snow that's falling isn't affecting me. There's also a hottub to my left and a set of chairs with a matching table across from it.

I tighten the blanket around my shoulders and take a sip of my beer. The bitter taste spreads across my tongue, making me feel sick.

When I think about the events that've happened today, I feel that familiar pang in my chest. With graduation coming up and a new year on the brink of starting, I thought now would be a good time to tell my parents I'm bisexual. For the longest time, I've felt an attraction to both sexes. At first, I didn't want to accept it because, ironically, I was worried about people accepting me. But as time's gone on and I've learned more about sexuality and seen more representation in literature and media, I've come to terms with it. I'm proud of who I am and what I stand for.

Even if my parents hate me now.

A tear slips down my cheek. Why are people who don't follow heteronormativity oppressed? When did being straight become normalized? Love is love, and my sexuality shouldn't affect someone else.

Especially my fucking parents.

As the tears continue to fall, I do my best to gain control over my emotions. At some point, if I'm gone too long, someone will come looking for me. Ella, Shea, and Brenna are the only sober ones left (aside from me). The three with the biggest hearts will start to worry.

I use the blanket to wipe away my tears, and try to talk myself down. Maybe the news was shocking to my parents. Maybe they just need some time to come to terms with it.

Or maybe they're just assholes.

Before I can eradicate that thought from my mind, the door creaks open behind me. My body tenses. Shit. Someone's coming.

I try to appear uninterested by staring off into the distance, watching as the snow falls into the silent darkness.

Their footsteps get closer and closer, until they stop and ask, "Mind if I sit?"

It's Brenna. And because of that, there's no way I can say no. She's been kind to me, and she deserves the same respect.

I take a sip of my beer again. "No one's stopping you."

The comment comes out ruder than I intended, but I don't make an effort to correct myself. There's a selfish part of me that wants to be alone. But there's also a piece of me that wants her company.

From the corner of my eye, I see Brenna frown. But my rude response doesn't prevent her from sitting down next to me.

"What brings you here?" I ask. My voice is stuffy, but if she asks any questions, I'll blame it on the cold weather.

She crosses her arms and shivers. Because of that, I offer her a spot beneath the blanks. "I don't bite."

Brenna slides closer to me and our shoulders brush. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," I reply.

When the silence settles over us, I can feel the awkward tension radiating off of Brenna. I can't blame her. Usually, we can keep a conversation running all night. And for some reason, that thought makes my heart hurt.

Another tear slips down my cheek and I sniffle, wiping my nose with the back of my hand.

"Are you okay?" Brenna asks.

My jaw tenses. I stare into the distance, wondering if I should tell her. Brenna is a progressive person. She's always studying our evolving society and is very vocal about feminism and issues like transphobia and racism. I feel like she'd be able to understand what I'm going through.

I take a deep breath.

"I'm bisexual, Brenna," I admit. "With graduation coming up..." I run a hand through my hair. "I thought it would be a good idea to come out to my parents. Everything's changing anyway..." I trail off, my head hanging low. "Fuck, I don't know what I was thinking. They hate me now."

She blinks. "Oh, well, um... that's good. I'm glad you found the courage, Jayden. Thank you for trusting me. I'm sorry about your parents."

"You sound unimpressed," I drawl.

"No!" she exclaims. "I'm just a little... surprised. I have nothing against peoples' sexualities. They're part of what makes this world diverse. Cut me some slack, though, okay? You sprang the news on me. However, I will admit I'm in the wrong. I shouldn't be surprised. Sexualities need to be normalized. It's something I'm working on."

Some of the tension in my shoulders eases. "Right. I'm sorry, Brenna. It's just... My parents didn't take well to my coming out. Especially my dad. I feel defensive."

She rests a hand on my back. "Of course you do. You have every right to be. But I'm here for you, Jayden. Don't let yourself think otherwise. I'm sorry about displaying my shock. I understand how disheartening that can be."

I turn to her, a desperate look in my eyes. "You can't tell anyone. If Connor finds out..."

She snorts. "Are you fucking kidding me? I would never tell someone about your sexuality, Jayden. That's your information to share. Not mine."

I instantly feel like a shitty friend. There's a reason I told Brenna. I trust her. So why am I pleading her to not tell anyone? The very thought makes me sigh. Although I have my reasons to be defensive and on edge, I don't have a reason to jump to conclusions about Brenna. It's unfair.

Shaking my head, I say, "Right. Again, sorry. I'm defensive." I pause. "I shouldn't have to 'come out.' How come straight people don't have to?"

"We know the answer to that already." She taps her foot against the cement while tracing the bottom step with her finger, drawing a line in the snow. "Society doesn't give a shit about how people identify. They prefer you stick to the 'norm' and make everything less complicated. People still complain about pronouns and Pride Month. I'm not devaluing the people who are accepting. It's just a pain in the ass when people are against something and they're so vocal about it. Even when they're in the wrong."

Her words are brutal, but true. And now that she's opened the floodgate, I can't stop talking.

"How people identify matters. It's part of who they are. It just... It doesn't bother me." I expel a hollow laugh. "Which is problematic when you're playing hockey. A sport dominated by straight white men. If any of them knew..."

"Amen to that," she mutters.

"I just..."

Where am I taking this conversation? How do I express feelings and opinions that are so complicated? While I comb through my thoughts, Brenna stays quiet.

I take another deep breath.

"Gender... it's a social construct. Your sex doesn't define your gender. With my preferences for romantic interests, I respect their identities and acknowledge them. It's just... gender doesn't bother me, like I said. To me, everything is grey. Not black and white. What I fall in love with are their qualities and personalities. Who they are as a person..." I trail off, picking at the label of his beer. "I think it's amazing. Beautiful. We should all love people for who they are. Not because of their sex or gender."

"Love is love," she nods. "You don't need to justify your sexuality, Jayden. I think being bisexual is beautiful, too. We think too much about how a person is presented. Not who they present themselves as. There's a big difference."

My lips pull into a smile. I then throw my arm around her shoulders. Brenna's body is warm against mine and she smells of cinnamon and vanilla. It's a little intoxicating, but nowhere near as intoxicating as Shea's cologne. Which is something I smell almost every day in the locker room. "Why can't there be more people like you?"

She shakes her head. "You saying that is horrible, Jayden. Accepting people for who they are shouldn't be praised. It should be expected. Anyone who doesn't should be ashamed. Anyone who does shouldn't be praised. This world is fucked."

I sigh. Sometimes I hate when she's right. "You have a point. But still. Thank you, Brenna."

She nudges me. "I'm nothing special. The world is just full of bad people."

Realizing I'm tired of standing in the spotlight, I change the subject. "Enough about me. How are you doing? Smith... he mentioned something about your dad showing up."

When Brenna's mood darkens, so does the atmosphere. For a moment, I worry I've overstepped my boundaries.  "I don't mean to intrude," I say.

She bites her bottom lip.

With her lack of response, I decide to continue on. "Despite my family's issues with my sexuality, your issues are important, too. I know you're having a rough time, Brenna. It's easy to see. Whether that's with Shea or your family, I'm here for you, too." I pause and sigh. "I'm tired of talking about myself, too. We can have a more in-depth conversation about me another time. Today's been exhausting."

I glance over my shoulder. "Those morons inside aren't making it any easier. They're so drunk. I can't handle immaturity very well. To a point, yeah. Right now? I'm on the brink of snapping."

Brenna tosses her head back, laughing. "It's insane! They're wasted. Catina and Hunter tried to make Shea and I kiss over a game of spin the bottle."

"No way! That game is for middle schoolers."

"Right?"

For a moment, the laughter feels good. But it quickly subsides. All I can seem to feel tonight is melancholy. I'm also concerned about Brenna. She's been very stressed lately.

"Brenna, Hunter told me what happened during the tournament in Kamloops. He also told me you keep shutting him and Shea down whenever they try to speak to you. I know it's difficult to express how you feel. That appearing vulnerable is frowned upon. In case you need a reminder, it's not. There's nothing wrong with being vulnerable."

She blinks a few times, as if she's fighting back tears. "I don't know which questions to answer. There are too many running through my head. So many I can't think straight. My appetite is minimal. Exercise is the only thing that can distract me. Plus, I have to keep in shape for hockey."

"Do you want to speak with your dad?"

Brenna bites her lip. "Maybe? I think I need to make amends with Mom first. Hear her side of the story."

"There you go! A step in the right direction."

She glares at me, but it's a playful glare. "Only because you asked me a question."

"What do you think of Shea?"

"What do you think of Shea?"

"Personally," I chuckle. "I always thought Shea was asexual. He was adamant about not having a relationship during high school. It seems out of the ordinary for someone to focus on their life before romance. But Shea was being smart. Now? Now I think he's changed his mind."

Again, her lack of response spurs me on. "Shea has a thing for you. In case you failed to detect the obvious. I keep trying to push him—even if it hurts watching your crush fall in love with someone else."

Brenna releases a small gasp. "Is... Is that why you protected Shea in the locker room? Because you like him?"

I smile. "You're not the only one interested in Shea Smith."

"He's difficult to ignore," she sighs.

I laugh. "Fuck. I never thought we'd be sitting out here talking about Shea Smith."

"What makes you like him?"

There's no need for me to think about my response. Shea isn't a difficult person to read. As much as he tries to be, he has a good heart and a face that can't hide his emotions. "He's fearless—even when he's scared. Not afraid to be vulnerable or protect the people he cares about. He speaks his mind, too." I rub my jaw. "Not gonna lie, he's damn good-looking, too. What about you?"

When I look at Brenna, she's smiling and shaking her head.

"How do I answer that? Our relationship is complicated. We were rivals before. Now we're not."

I cock an eyebrow. "Maybe that's why you like him? Because he was open to improving?"

"Maybe? Does it matter?" Beside me, Brenna shivers. I tighten the blanket around us, trying to ignore my numb toes. Whether we like it or not, we'll have to go inside soon. "I like him a lot, Jayden. But I've got so much on my plate. Dragging him into this doesn't seem right."

"Every person has baggage, Bren. What matters is if the person you want to be with can accept it. As far as I've seen, you accept Shea's accountability. He accepts the damage your mom and dad have caused. That kid wouldn't stop calling you in Kamloops. He couldn't sleep."

A few tears slide down her cheeks. "I'm scared, Jayden. Shea's a lot to handle. Like you said, he's fearless. Sometimes, I wish we could take a vacation from our emotions."

I embrace Brenna with a half-hug. "Me too."

"I'm sorry," Brenna says.

Her apology is dysmal. She has nothing to be sorry for. Although I'm crushing on Shea, there are no hard feelings against either of them. Anyone can see they're falling in love. Yeah, it hurts a little, but all I want is for the people I love to be happy.

"Don't apologize. Shea is as straight as they come—no pun intended. He's liked you for a long time, Brenna."

"Does... Does he want to settle down?"

A memory pops into my head. One that makes me smile. "Last year, at KJ's birthday party, Shea got shit-faced. He couldn't stop talking about after he's established a life, he wants to settle down. He wants to prove to the world he can be a better dad than his own. That not all men are like his dad."

Brenna rolls her eyes. "I hate that saying. Not all men. It's such bullshit."

I chuckle. "It's been coined one too many times. But there is truth in it. What about those rare men who do fight for women? Or white women who don't believe in empowering white supremacy?"

"Tell me when you find one," she drawls.

I look at her. "Why do you think Connor broke my nose? Why do you think KJ took that video? What about Shea turning his character around? Brenna, we're not perfect. It's difficult to break free from toxic masculinity. At least we're trying. I know that's not enough. Trying never will be. But that's why we continue to try. So we can be better allies. We owe women. There never should've been a line between sexes. I just don't think it's fair to categorize everyone in one group. There are good people in this world." 

Maybe I don't know a lot about feminism—it's always evolving and you always have to be open to learning more about it. But judging by her expression, I know she has more to say.

"You have a point," she says, "but you're presenting it in the wrong way, Jayden. Saying something like 'not all men' is a way of letting women know you're uncomfortable with discussing misogyny. That you want to be absolved of any blame before we continue speaking. Just like sometimes I want to be absolved of any blame based on the decisions of some white women. For example, I would never vote to restrict women of reproductive health rights. Yet some white women will vote in favour in order to uphold white supremacy. Yes, it's unfair we have to hold responsibility that was never ours to take. But if you can discuss it, then you're not like other men or white women. People can categorize you all you want. So long as you know, in your heart, you're willing to talk, then that counts for something."

She shrugs, and it reminds me a little too much of Shea. Maybe he has a shrugging curse that's passable to anyone who spends too much time around him. "Those are just some examples. There's many more to discuss."

I stay silent, running her words through my head. I don't entirely understand them, but I make a mental note to do my homework. "You're right. I'm sorry. When I said that, I wasn't trying to dismiss the experiences women have had with men."

"Apology accepted. But like you said, you are trying. You're learning. That's more than anyone could ask for. And don't praise me. I don't know everything. There are still things I need to learn, too."

"Isn't that what life is for?" I ask. "To learn?"

"To learn, to live, to love."

I suppress a smile. Brenna can give some damn good advice, but she never follows it herself. "You should follow your advice more often, Brenna."

She rolls her eyes. "I'm sure that would go over well."

I nudge her. "Talk to your dad. He doesn't have the right to be in your life, Brenna. Your emotions are valid. But maybe knowing the details will help you find closure or resolution. Whenever you decide to speak, it won't be on his terms. It'll be on yours. He lost that right for leaving you."

She turns to me and cocks her head to the side."You just love hitting it home, don't you?"

I snort. "I'm a hockey player. Not a baseball player."

"That's not what I meant."

"Do you trust Shea?" I ask.

My abrupt change of topic surprises her, but she responds quickly.

"Yes," she replies.

"Brenna," I say. "You have an opportunity. Take it. He wants you. You want him. Don't let the future or baggage dictate your present happiness."

"Maybe you should follow your advice." She tries to mimic my voice, which makes me laugh. I pull her into a hug and say, "We suck at taking our own advice. Kinda makes us hypocrites."

She rests her head against my shoulder. "It does."

"Promise me you'll talk to someone, Brenna. Me or Shea. Tucker. Ella. There are people who care about you. None of us see you as weak. Just a friend that needs support."

"I will," she whispers. "But just like you said, tonight's been rough. We both deserve a mental health break. You more than me. I'm sorry about your parents, Jayden."

I chuckle, but it sounds sad. "Might need to crash at your house for a couple of weeks, but I hope things will be okay."

"Me too, Jayden, me too."

Brenna and I lapse into silence, staring out at the snowy landscape. As we sit here, I try to remember how minimal this chapter in my life is. Soon, we'll be graduates and off to post-secondary school or the NHL or different cities.

All that matters in this infinite moment is the support Brenna and I can offer each other as best friends.