The Brightest Star in a Constellation

48: In Which Nobody Commits a Crime for Blueberry Pancakes

☽ Peter ☽

I sit on the bleachers of the hockey rink, a folded piece of paper in my lap. It's tied with a ribbon to a pouch containing caramels and candy wrapped in bright tinfoil. I received three candy grams this morning; one from Nicole ('Platonic soulmates, forever,' hers had said) and another from Dina. Both are signed, which is what makes the third even more curious; it's completely blank.

"Do you want a drink?" a voice calls, jolting me from my thoughts. I shove the empty paper into my pocket and turn to my side. Lucas Azan is in front of me, hands gesturing towards the exit. "I'm going to get coffee. I thought you might want to come."

"I'm good, thanks. Isn't the game starting soon?" I ask.

It's the semi-finals, which is a pretty big deal for North High. It's been a few years since the hockey team has made it this far, and most of the reason lies with Lucas Azan. He may only have been the temporary team captain, but I wouldn't be surprised if he got scouted to the NHL.

"Yeah," Lucas admits sheepishly. "I've got time. Are you sure you don't want to come with me?"

Oh. He's inviting me to come like he did before. "Ah," I say, out loud this time, "right. Yeah, um, about that..." I've been meaning to talk to him since he confessed, but in all honesty, it caught me off guard. I spent a few weeks debating over whether he'd meant it, and another few days trying to decide when to approach him. But it wasn't the right moment, (not that I knew what the 'right moment' was).

I pat the space next to me, and Lucas sits down. He flattens his silky hair back, hesitating. His smile is uneasy, and his lips press together. I can admit that he's attractive and honest, and he was sweet enough to leave me to figure out my feelings. It's a small liberty, but it can't have been easy.

None of this is easy. "Sorry," I start, not knowing what else to say. "I've left you hanging for a while. You're great, Lucas. Really. I just..."

"You like someone else," he guesses.

I fall silent. It's the same thing he did once before—and I didn't understand it then.

"Well, I mean..." A sigh wrangles from my mouth. "It's not that simple. I just... I like you like a friend. And I should have told you that back when we first spoke, but I couldn't... I couldn't get it out. I needed some time to think. I needed space. Thank you for giving that to me. A lot has happened since then, and I'm still figuring out how I feel about some of it."

Lucas smiles softly. It's a dazzling smile. I want my heart to flip in circles like it does when I grow weak for another person. But it doesn't happen. "I needed space, too. I didn't want to overwhelm you, or make things weird between us."

"It's not like that," I tell him. He stands up and brushes his hand against his pants.

"Cool," he says, and laughs to fill the space between us. "I hope you have fun watching the game, then."

☆ ☽ ☆

The game ends with the opposing team beating North High during overtime. With rapt attention, I follow Evan's movements as he glides back to the bench and disappears. He is surefooted on the ice, but often not the best at scoring goals.

A few minutes later, he emerges onto the bleachers. His hair is swept into a tiny ponytail, and the strands of blond and brown stand out against his jawline. He smiles lazily, and his cheeks flare like a blowfish.