Skating Through

by Jennifer Cosgrove

  “Shhh, he doesn’t mean it, kitty.” Ryan buried his face in Biscuit’s fur. “He’s just jealous.”

  “You are the most ridiculous human being I’ve ever met. Why do I even like you?”

  “He’s judging us, kitty.” Ryan was talking directly to Biscuit, the cat looking at him like he understood every word. Biscuit meowed at Ryan and put a sympathetic paw on his face, and Ben started laughing.

  Ben’s mom called from the kitchen. “Boys! If you want bacon, get your butts in here.”

  “Put the damn cat down and come on.” Ben turned his back on Ryan and moved quickly to the dining room. There was a thump as Biscuit jumped down, and then Ryan was elbowing him out of the way. Ben bumped him back, and they skidded into the kitchen, almost upsetting a chair.

  His mom didn’t say anything, only sighed in exasperation. They took their seats and dug in, concentrating on their food while Beth chattered on about something. It gave Ben time to think about their talk the previous night and ponder what, if anything, he wanted to do. Which made him uncomfortable when his mom pushed the subject to forefront with an innocent question to Ryan.

  “So, how’s your summer been?”

  Ryan chewed and swallowed the bite of eggs he’d just shoveled in, before answering. “Good. Hanging out. Mom wasn’t able to take any time off to go anywhere this year so—” He shrugged.

  “Well, enjoy it while you can. It’s your last free summer.” She took a sip of her coffee. “You boys went to that party last night. Was it just school friends?”

  Ben froze and didn’t look at Ryan. She was about to ask the dating question, he could feel it.

  Ryan answered easily, unaware of the danger. And why would that even be on his radar? It wasn’t uncomfortable for him. He wouldn’t have to lie. “Yeah. We pretty much knew everyone there.”

  “Anyone special?” There it was. “Ben never tells me anything.”

  Ben was fairly sure he was the only one to catch the quick glance Ryan gave him. “Nah. Enjoying the summer, you know? Especially since it’s almost over.”

  “How about you, Ben?”

  It was like the world stopped. Ben had thought about what he’d do the next time his mom or dad asked him something like that. He’d gone back and forth between blurting out that he liked guys or lying outright. He decided to take the middle ground, a tried and true tactic.

  “You know I don’t have time for anything like that.” He tried to ignore the look of worry on her face and the glance she shot his father, who was acting like he was very interested in his own plate. Ben hated when they did that. And that he couldn’t just tell them what was really going on. Should he tell them? Get it over with? He looked over at Ryan, who was steadily not making eye contact with anyone, and caught Beth flicking her narrowed eyes between the two of them. If anyone figured it out, it would be her.

  Damn it. It wasn’t time. He needed to deflect. Beth had been texting more than usual yesterday at Gran’s house, so he made a guess. “I heard Beth has a new ‘friend,’ though.”

  It was a shot in the dark, but Beth confirmed it with a squeak, and then immediately started coughing as her orange juice went down the wrong way. Ryan kicked his ankle, and Ben kicked back. His mom, on the other hand, sounded delighted.

  “A new friend?”

  If looks could kill, the dagger-eyes Beth was giving him would have left him dead on the floor. Surprisingly, she turned her wrath on their dad. “What did you say?”

  “I didn’t say a word.”

  “I’m done. You?” Ben grabbed Ryan’s plate and headed toward the sink. They needed to get out of there, or there’d be hell to pay. Ryan followed him, finishing off his juice before putting the glass in the sink.

  “Smooth man, real smooth.” Ryan muttered it under his breath and Ben gave him a dirty look, afraid his parents, or worse, Beth, would hear. However, it looked like they were preoccupied with a now pouting Beth, who was convinced their dad had ratted her out. Ben was happy to leave them to it.

  “Do you have to go?”

  Ryan had started a job at a local bookstore right after school let out, and his schedule had become a little erratic.

  He nodded. “In a little bit. I’ve got to be at work in an hour.” They escaped out the door, away from the drama at the kitchen table, and sat on the front steps in their usual spots. “You okay?”

  Ben picked at a rough spot on the side of the wooden step where the paint was starting to peel. “Yeah.” He blew out a breath and looked out over the yard. “I hate it when that happens.”

  “I know.”

  “I probably shouldn’t have thrown Beth under the bus.”

  Ryan grinned at him. “I’d sleep with one eye open for a while if I were you.”

  Ben sighed. “I should just tell them, shouldn’t I?”

  “I’m not saying anything. That is totally your decision.” Ryan stood and clapped a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “But if you decide to do it, I’ll hold your hand through the whole thing.”

  Ben laughed. “You really would, wouldn’t you.”

  Ryan jogged down the steps before turning around and pointing at him. “Anytime, man. Just for you.”

  LATER THAT DAY, Ben was getting his laundry together (and hiding from Beth) when the box on his dresser drew his attention again. He opened it and took out the letters, wondering how much care he needed to take to open them, or if he should open them at all. He touched the dog tag through his shirt, running his fingers over it in indecision. Gran had trusted him with the box, and she had to have known what was in it. He’d open one letter, he decided. That would be enough.

  He took one of the letters out of the box at random and rummaged around in his nightstand drawer for his pocketknife. Biscuit had been keeping him company, sprawled across his bed, and looked at Ben with one eye when he sat on the edge of it.

  The flap of the envelope had already started to become unstuck, so it didn’t take much to open it the rest of the way, just a gentle shimmy with the flat of the blade. The letter he pulled out looked exactly like the first one. The same neat writing, fading along the edges, and the same greeting:

  My darling,

  I promise never to complain about our Indiana winters ever again. I have never been so cold in my life. As much as I miss your face, I am so glad that you’re not here with me. Your poor lungs wouldn’t have been able to take it.

  Ben paused. After reading the letter about boot camp, he’d assumed William had been on the front lines. If he was writing home to his sweetheart, there shouldn’t be any chance of her being out there in the cold, so why would he say it? That was weird.

  He finished that letter, which went on to talk about socks, of all things, but ended the same way as the other one:

  Always,

  Your Will

  He flipped through the remaining letters, fanning them out like playing cards. There weren’t that many of them, six in total, all in different states of wear and tear. The one that looked the best must have been the most recent, while the others seemed like they’d been carried around with Will. He wondered why they’d never been sent. Maybe Will had been in an area where he wasn’t able to send or receive mail at the time. But the one from boot camp should have been easy to send, it would seem.

  He picked up his pocketknife and carefully peeled up the flap on the next one in the small stack, unfolded the letter inside, and began to read.

  BEN LAY BACK on his bed, hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. Biscuit had curled up beside him, and every so often he’d bump his head against Ben’s hip for head scratches, which were absently granted. That final letter…

  It had been a goodbye letter. Will apparently wrote one just like it before every major action, but only this one had survived. It was the last thing Will had ever written, and Ben wasn’t sure how he felt about reading it.

  My darling E

  Something had been written and then scratched out, but Ben could still make out the E. Will had st
arted to write out the recipient’s name, but had marked through it so hard there was a small hole in the thin paper. The edges were smudged with something, probably from dirty hands in a cold forest or a broken-down city. Ben couldn’t begin to imagine what it must have been like.

  …I want to say these words to you in person, nothing would be better than that. I have loved you since I was twelve years old, darling, from the very moment I knew what that meant…

  Ben let out a shaky breath. He’d watched more war documentaries than he could possibly remember, but the letters made it more real than all of them combined. He definitely wanted to know who “E” was and what had happened to her when Will didn’t come back.

  He thought about texting Gran to ask her what she knew but then decided he’d rather talk to her about it in person. They were supposed to go over to her house to help again before school started, so he could be patient. He sat up, and Biscuit uncurled himself with a baleful look before jumping down off the bed with a thump and stalking to the door. Ben let him out just as his dad was coming up the stairs. Looking back at the papers stacked neatly on his nightstand, Ben suddenly wanted to keep it all private. He stepped out and closed his door, hiding all of it from his dad’s eyes. All the longing expressed in the letters had lodged in his chest, and he just wasn’t ready to share that with anyone.

  “Oh, hey.” His dad smiled at him, and Ben made himself return it. “Dinner’s ready, it’s your turn to set the table.”

  “What are we having?” His dad had been going through a Julia Child cookbook after watching some movie about her, and it was a crapshoot what he would make. Ben was wary after whatever that gelatin thing was that he’d attempted and—after a family vote and many threats—promised never to make again.

  “Ratatouille.” He sounded so proud, Ben almost didn’t have the heart to tell him that he had no idea what that was. Almost.

  “Like that cartoon about the rat?”

  His dad shook his head in exasperation. “Unfortunately, yes. It’s vegetables. You’ll love it.” He started back down the stairs, and Ben followed on his heels. “I also made chicken, so don’t panic.”

  “Not panicking.” Ben paused with a real grin on his face, the somberness fading with the noise and brightness of the kitchen. “Unless it’s that weird Jell-O stuff again.”

  “You guys are never going to let me live that down, are you?” His dad smiled at him, and Ben felt the remaining uneasiness over that last letter and the mystery of “E” fade away.

  He laughed softly. “Not a chance.”

  Chapter Four

  AFTER DINNER, BEN got a text from Ryan asking if he was busy the next day. He wasn’t, but he was instantly on alert after the whole “oops Marcus will be at this party” thing.

  Ben: Why?

  Ryan: POOL

  Ryan: PARTY

  Ryan: !!!!!!!!!

  Ben rolled his eyes. Ryan just didn’t give up. He was going to make sure Ben interacted with people whether he wanted to or not.

  Ben: ???

  Ryan: T’s house

  Ah. That explained a lot. Tyler Hicks. Ryan was good friends with him, and Ben knew him from the hockey team their freshman year. He’d quit about the same time Ryan did, and they’d ended up hanging out together in the stands at games. Tyler lived in a really nice neighborhood and had a pool in his backyard. He threw a big pool party at the end of summer every year. It was kind of a big deal.

  Which made Ben immediately not want to go. He sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the screen, waiting for Ryan’s next impatient text. It buzzed in his hand.

  Ryan: I can hear your no from here

  Ben: I’m not saying no.

  Ben’s phone started ringing, and Ryan’s picture flashed across the screen. Ben looked at his silly cross-eyed face for a second before answering.

  “You’re not saying yes, either,” Ryan said immediately. “I’ve got tomorrow off. Come on, Ben. Please? For me?” If Ryan had been there, he’d have dramatically dropped to his knees and begged.

  “Who’s going to be there?”

  “Why are you asking?”

  “I swear to god—”

  “Fine! Fine. Yes, he’s going to be there.” Ryan rushed on, stumbling over his words to get them out. “He came into the bookstore, and I kind of overheard him and Rachel talking about it.”

  “You followed them around and listened to them?”

  “No!” Silence. “Well, maybe a little. I may have needed to re-sort that area. Several times.”

  Ben scrubbed his hand over his face. The neat stack of letters caught his eye. He hadn’t put them away, and though it wasn’t as palpable as before, he could still feel the sorrow the last letter contained. It wasn’t that Will knew he was going to die. It was that Will wouldn’t ever get to see his “E” again. Ben sighed. What was he doing? Shit.

  “Okay.” Ben closed his eyes. He needed to get out more. God. He was letting the letters get to him, and they were making him freaking sad. He felt lonely, even when he was around other people. Something had to change, so he’d go to the party and see what happened.

  “What?” Ryan sounded almost shocked, and Ben grinned to himself.

  “I’ll go. What time are you picking me up?” He thought for a second. “And no drinking this time.”

  “Yes! Sure, whatever you want!” Ben held the phone away from his ear as Ryan celebrated, chanting, “Going to a pool party, going to a pool party!” and brought it back to hear, “I’ll pick you up at noon. He’s going to have food and stuff there.” Then, “I’m hanging up now before you change your mind. Bye!”

  Ben looked at his screen and shook his head. He threw his phone onto the bed and started putting the letters back into the box.

  IT TOOK ABOUT thirty seconds for Ben to realize he’d made a mistake. There were easily three times the number of people that had been at the other party milling around the backyard. He froze.

  Ryan turned to him with a smile that dropped as soon as he saw Ben’s face. “Nope.”

  Ben looked at him, startled. “What?”

  “You’ve got your ‘get me the hell out of here’ face on.”

  Ben tried his best to look innocent. “Do not.”

  But Ryan wasn’t buying it, and he folded his arms across his chest, giving him a skeptical look. “So you weren’t about to turn around and run?”

  “No?”

  “Whatever, man.” Ryan’s face softened, and he looked back over to where a ton of people were splashing in the pool. “Look, if you want to go—”

  “I’m fine.” Ben plastered a huge fake smile on his face. He was going to try. “See?”

  Ryan grimaced. “That’s just fucking scary.” Ben kept making the face, leaning closer to him. “Okay, okay, I get it! You can stop now.” When Ben grinned for real, Ryan shook his head. “Come on.”

  Ben was wearing sunglasses so he’d have something to hide behind, but with this many people, it wouldn’t matter. Ryan, at least, had already been noticed and was giving his “Cool. What’s up?” nod left and right. Ben wished he was half as good with people. It was something he’d have to learn if he wanted to go any further with hockey. College hockey had a much bigger fan base, and the high school fans were already pretty hardcore. It was kind of like high school football in Texas, if you believed the movies.

  “Hey, Ben!” Ben looked up in surprise when someone actually spoke to him. It was Rachel. She was sitting by herself on a blanket, having staked out a nice spot in the shade. “Come sit with us?” Ben felt the urge to look behind him to see if there was another Ben that she was talking to. It wasn’t like he was the only one.

  “Jesus Christ, will you stop staring and just go over there?” Ryan gave him a nudge, and Ben started toward her, with Ryan trailing along after him for once. She gave him a big smile, and that feeling was still there, that she was smiling at someone else. She didn’t even know him, and now he was going over there to make a fool out of himself. At least h
e wouldn’t be doing it alone.

  “Hey, Rach.” It was Ryan’s flirty voice—amazing how easy he made it sound. Confidence oozed from him when he turned up the charm. Rachel giggled. How the hell did he do that? Ryan flung an arm over Ben’s shoulders. It looked casual, but it was actually an anchor to keep Ben in place. Ben realized belatedly that Rachel had said “Come sit with us,” which meant—

  “Ben?” It was Marcus.

  Ben was thankful for his sunglasses; he probably had that deer-in-the-headlights look going on.

  Marcus had two cups in his hands, clearly having gone to get them drinks. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.” He cut his eyes toward Rachel, who shrugged and patted the blanket beside her. Marcus sat, handing her one of the drinks.

  “I didn’t either.” Ben was surprised his voice didn’t croak. He poked Ryan in the side so he’d let go of him. “It was kind of a last minute thing.” His mouth felt inexplicably dry, and his tongue was somehow three sizes too big. Were those even words? Marcus smiled at him, and Ben’s stomach tried to turn itself inside out.

  “You guys want to sit? We have lots of room.” Marcus was looking from Ben to Ryan as if he was trying to figure something out. “I mean, if you want to.”

  “Sure!” Ryan answered for them both, knocking his shoulder against Ben’s when he didn’t move. “I’m going to go grab us some drinks first, though.”

  Ben felt something close to panic run through him. Ryan was going to leave him alone with Marcus. And Rachel, of course. But, still. Marcus.

  “You need me to come with you?” Ben tried not to sound like he was begging, but the muted giggle from Rachel’s direction proved he sucked at that too.

  Ryan waved him off and gave him a pointed nudge toward where the other two were sitting. He lowered his voice. “Go and freaking sit down. Play it cool, all right?”