"Have you been ice fishing before?"

"Yup."

Jake looks a bit excited. "Do you like it?"

"Yup."

He laughs at me and gives me a shove. "Do you want to do some?"

I can't help but look at him in surprise. "There's a lake here, too?! Man, this place has everything!"

"Yup." He gives me a wicked grin.

Now I shove him.

"But seriously," Jake says, "I know. That's why I picked this location."

An hour later we're sitting on a lake that's completely frozen. We're sitting on two folding chairs, two separate holes made with our fishing rods cast into. So far nothing has happened.

Jake looks cute, bundled up in a green puffy coat. He has a black beanie, which smooshes down his long-ish blonde hair over his eyes (he keeps having to move it). He's pale—not like, Orion pale, but pale—and his cheeks are pink in the cold.

"What?" Jake asks, catching me looking at him.

"You look cute."

Jake raises an eyebrow. "Hey now."

I laugh. "Not like that, you dingbat. I mean you look like a little kid, all bundled up like that."

"Thanks? I guess?" He laughs. "One of the stranger compliments I've gotten, but I'll take it."

A brief silence.

"I didn't peg you the type to own a riffle and go ice fishing," I comment.

Jake shrugs. "I gotta keep myself preoccupied somehow, yaknow?"

I snort.

"What?"

"You just strike me as more of the theater type."

"Hey now, c'mon. My favorite baseball team are the Tigers, and of course I love the Red Wings."

"Really? Gimme stats."

"Well, the Lions have never made it to a Super Bowl game, along with your Houston Texans team," he ads with a wink. "Although they did win the NFL Championship Games before the Super Bowl was created in 1966."

"How many?"

Jake rolls his eyes. "Four. Would you stop quizzing me already?"

I laugh.

"Truth be told I actually don't like theater."

I'm genuinely surprised. "You don't?"

"Nah. I don't like theater, ballet, classical music." Jake grins at me. "In fact, Orion dragged me to see the Chicago Symphony once—we were touring and had a night off. He got so pissed at me because I fell asleep."

I crack up. "You fell asleep?"

"I started snoring and everything," Jake laughs. "Oh, my God, he was so mortified."

"Let me guess—at the end he all but dragged you out by the ear, gripping at you the entire time."

"Yup! How did you know?"

I can't help but roll my eyes. "Like you said yesterday, next to you I think I know Orio the best."

A quiet falls between us. I don't like it. I don't like it because it's reminding me how bitterly cold it is. I also don't like it because it reminds me how bitterly cold the hole in my heart is.

"Jacob..."

Jake looks as though he's about to crack a joke. However, upon seeing my serious expression, his smirk fades away.

"How much time do you think I should give before reaching out to him?"

"I don't."

"Huh?"

"What I mean to say is, you don't have to wait. If you want to talk to Orion, talk to him."

I swallow thickly. Jake drops his eyes back to the frigid water. For awhile I do nothing more than watch our breath puff out as we breathe.

"I have a question."

Jake looks at me.

"What fucked him up so much?"

Jake sort of smiles and then shakes his head. "You know a lot of it already...crappy home life. Angst over being adopted. Fame getting to him."

Jake looks at me then with a sort of determination in his eyes, and shakes his head again. "I could say all that, but I think it's beyond that."

I'm intrigued. "How so?"

Jake drops his eyes back to the water. "He once described himself to me as all these horrible things, like a shirt that's been ripped but was stitched. I think he also said something about tin foil never being smooth again after its crumpled. He gave a few more analogies but I honestly don't remember."

Yup, that sounded like Orion.

"The point is," Jake continues, still not looking at me, "he thinks he's this broken thing, never to be repaired."

As he continues, Jake sounds sad, so sad, and he's not looking at me but the water.

"The thing Orion doesn't get...The thing we can't all get him to believe...Well, a crumpled piece of paper is still a piece of paper. A shirt that's been ripped and fixed, it's still a shirt, it's not the stitch that holds it together. A vase might break, but if you glue it all back together, it's still a vase."

Jake looks at me then, and I kinda want to hug him because he looks miserable." Do you get what I mean?"

"You're very wise, Jake."

He blinks, and, as though shaking off the twilight of dreams, he sheds the sadness. "Wise? Me?"

I laugh. "Yes you."

I'd say it was the cold, but Jake clearly blushes. "Nah. I'm not wise. Just a fool."

Before I can ask him what he means, he pulls his line from the water and gets to his feet, grinning down at me.

"C'mon. Nothing's biting and I'm freezing my ass off."

Once we made it back to the "cabin", we just lounged around and watched some TV. For dinner we went outside to his charcoal grill (which made me happy, propane isn't grilling) and made some burgers, a few dogs, and some brauts. We retreated back inside to the shelter and warmth, seeing as it had started snowing lightly again.

Once we were done eating, I helped Jake pack up the leftovers and put everything away. He tried to insist I needn't help him beyond that, but I counter-insisted that I help. So, I did the dishes and afterward cleaned the grill.

By the time I got back in, it was almost fully dark. I put down my hood and shook myself off.

"It's a damn near blizzard out there."

Jake was sitting in the arm chair, glass of wine in hand, looking rather forlorn at the snow. However, he didn't look at me or otherwise acknowledge I had spoken.

"Does  it always snow like this so late in the year?"

"It can. It's like this in Michigan too. I hear northern Illinois as well," Jake replied, but his voice told me he was far, far away from this cabin.

I took off my boots, gloves, and coat. The entire time I was watching Jake. He didn't move. He barely even blinked.

"You okay there buddy?"

Finally Jake looked at me. He offered me a small smile.

"You're really good for Orion, Tristan. I hope you guys can work something out."

I didn't know what to say, and I didn't know where his sadness was coming from, so I just let it be.