Breaking The Ice [bxb]

Chapter Five [Liam]

Gus brings it up for the first time during second period English class.

He brings it up for the first time that day, I mean. In reality, he's been pestering me with this for a full month. And he tried a couple of times before the end of summer too.

As your textbook case of small-town USA, it's safe to say neither Brunson nor its upper-class neighbor Lake City are overflowing with a supply of gay nightclubs. Or any nightclubs, for that matter. Mostly because the demand isn't all that abundant either.

But two months ago, Gus heard about this place within driving distance of Brunson, about an hour outside of Moscow, that is classified on its own website as a gay nightclub. It's called The Hub. Which is neither the most captivating nor the most original name. And I say this, perfectly aware that my father's resort's lodge-like restaurant and bar area is called The Lodge.

Gus brings it up again at lunch, but he pipes down pretty quickly, because I have Mack by my side to shut him down with the usual vicious finesse. Natalie takes the opportunity to say that she doesn't think we should even be considering sneaking out to a twenty-one-and-up club at all. Especially in the middle of the school year.

And I don't know if it's the pseudo-rebellious one-percenter seedling in me, but her disapproval — regardless of how sound of logic and responsible it is — kind of makes me want to agree to go.

So, naturally, when Gus brings it up again after school, when we're together in the Ice Arena's locker room getting ready for practice without the girls in sight, I almost feel like saying 'yes'. So... I do.

That's how I find myself, later that same day, standing in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom, with a half-buttoned up admiral-blue shirt, only one shoe, and my phone pressed between my shoulder and cheek. Mack's sigh crackles heavily through the phone line as I lower myself on one knee to put my other shoe on.

"I dunno..."

"Why not?" I ask.

"Because I don't wanna," she mumbles.

"You can't let me go out, on a Friday night, alone with Gus."

"Except I totally can."

"I thought this would be right up your alley. This is exactly why we got those fake IDs."

I would've lowered my voice on that last part, but there are a couple of details to take into account here. Firstly, this is a huge-ass house and my parents' room is on a whole other level. Secondly, my parents aren't home at all. And lastly, Leah's speakers blasting BTS's Dynamite would draw out a jet engine.

"Yeah, but Nat made me practice my Lutz today, and now my ass is bruised," Mack complains.

Here's another detail about my present situation. Natalie is not aware I am currently getting ready to go out with Gus. Neither can she ever find out, under any circumstance.

I love the girl, I do. I wouldn't hang out with her if I didn't — even though Nat and Chloe are basically attached at the hip since freshmen year. However, her morals are just too firmly set. And that's the sort of influence I find highly detrimental.

"Just come anyway. It's a gay nightclub. I can assure you nobody will go anywhere near your ass."

"I'm already wearing my pajamas, and I have Jane The Virgin ready to press play," she argues.

I reflect silently for a second.

"The smiling tacos pajamas?" I ask.

"Precisely."