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The first time they dance together…
It’s prom and Adam has brought a girl he was introduced to at his parents’ last Christmas party. He likes her well enough but Adam has started to think that this is one thing where he won’t be able to meet his father’s expectations. Girls just don’t excite him the way they should. His mother says that he’s simply too young, that he hasn’t matured enough yet, that this happens for boys. At first, Adam had thought there was some truth in it – several of his teammates have had no interested in dating anyone. And yet…
Adam knows, he knows he’s attracted to other guys. He knows that sometimes he will see a handsome man he really admires and think about holding his hand. Sometimes, they will all be changing in the locker room and he’ll feel embarrassed that his teammates can see his body and he avoids looking at anyone else because his body reacts in ways it probably shouldn’t – not if he’s going to date girls, anyway.
And sometimes he’s flipping through some pictures of him and Charlie during sophomore year and thinking of how miserable he had been when they had been at odds the year before and, just—Adam knows.
Jessie crashes the party halfway through the night and the Ducks keep him from getting kicked out. Jessie has somehow managed to smuggle in a bottle of whisky and they all have some in the men’s bathroom, giggling and drunk on their own rebelliousness more than the alcohol. Somewhere along the way, Adam loses track of his date.
He feels bad, so he goes looking for her, only to end up on the roof of the fancy country club where Edan Hall traditionally holds its prom. It’s a good city view from there, and—And he doesn’t expect to almost run into Charlie in the dark.
“Sorry, I was looking for Kate… What are you doing here?”
“Came o enjoy the view. I think I saw Kate with some of her friends downstairs…”
“Ok. I just felt bad for ignoring her…” Adam leans against the rooftop railing and looks down at the sparking city lights in the distance below them. “So.”
“So…” Charlie grins and leans on the railing beside him. The music they’re playing downstairs is still somewhat audible on the roof. “I take it the two of you aren’t actually dating?”
“No really.”
“Did you try any of Jessie’s whisky or too straight edge?”
Adam nudges him. “Stop.”
“What?”
“I had some.”
They fall quiet for a moment. The next song that comes on makes Charlie snort a laugh. “My mom loves this song.”
“Oh?” Adam hums out the first few lines of Save the Last Dance For Me and wonders if this was something one of the teachers convinced the DJ to put on so they could have a break from the musical tastes of seventeen-year-olds.
“Let’s dance,” Charlie says suddenly.
“You want to go?” Adam looks over at him and his eyes instantly meet Charlie’s. Adam freezes, suddenly tense and uncomfortable, almost like a deer caught in headlights.
“I mean you and me. And we can do it here.”
Adam stares at him, half of him confused and half of him wanting to should “YES!” like an idiot.
Charlie takes his silence the wrong way and looks away, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. “Never mind, dumb idea.’
This forces Adam out of his stupor. “No, no, it’s—let’s dance.”
Charlie grins and reaches for his hand. It’s odd to have Charlie’s arms around his waist and his own hands resting comfortably on Charlie’s shoulders. There’s a warning bell going off in Adam’s head that if someone finds them like this they’ll think the wrong thing—of the correct one. But he suddenly can’t look away from Charlie’s face and finds himself grinning stupidly back. He finds himself wishing he could stay like this forever with the dark around them and the city lights in the background and the safety and warmth of Charlie’s embrace enveloping him. They’re so close, it would be so easy to simply—
Laughter and shouting on the stairs makes them step away from each other, just as Jessie, Guy, Connie and Dwayne burst through the rooftop entrance door. “What are you two doing up here?” Connie asks as the guys all start shouting, each something different, all at once. Adam thinks there’s something knowing about the look Jessie gives Charlie.
“Just wanted to get some air,” Charlie says, finding his composure first. “We should all go back down before we get in trouble.” He gives Adam a quick, warm look, and leads the way back downstairs without another word.
The first time they kiss…
It’s winter break of freshman year of college. Charlie has come back for the holidays to see his mother and Adam has come back at his mother’s request and his father’s demand. The holiday would be wasted if it wasn’t for Charlie being there too. They don’t see each other these days – Adam is in Boston playing college hockey and Charlie is up at Berkley majoring in History and thinking of becoming a teacher. He helps coach a CAHA team in his spare time and has told Adam over the phone that that’s the most joy he’s gotten out of hockey lately – instilling in kids the love of the game, as well as the love of community and all those other fuzzy things that Charlie seems to understand instinctively and Adam constantly stumbles over in his desire to please and be a perfectionist. It would almost seem as though Charlie has moved on from being a Duck, from hockey, from Adam… They have never discussed what happened at prom and Adam can never bring himself to bring it up, though he thinks about it from time to time.
Adam has a hard time examining his feelings. When they had been kids, Charlie had always stood up for him, always tried to be his friend, and Adam missed that feeling of safety during freshman year at Edan Hall miserably. He misses it now too, sometimes, because Charlie is far away and Adam is no good at asking for help.
Adam tries to not get lost in his own head too much as he waits for Charlie on the edge of an outdoor skating rink, decorated with fairy lights left over from Christmas, with sappy pop songs blasting through the speakers.
On the other side of the rink, several girls are trying to teach their friend to skate. A couple with a young child is taking up the center, pushing the child between them. Otherwise, not it’s an oddly quiet night here.
Snow begins to fall, and Adam looks up, counting the seconds before a snowflake lands on his nose.
“Hey, Cake Eater. So like you to pick an ice rink to hang out at. Don’t you get enough of that at practice?”
Adam looks over on hearing Charlie’s voice. Absentmindedly, he pulls at his jacket, trying to straighten it.
“I got us hot chocolate.” Charlie hands Adam one of the foam cups and grins.
Adam gives a furtive look around. They’re not really supposed to have drinks out on the ice, but no one seems to be paying attention to them. “Thanks. And hi.” They hug and Adam tries his best to not hold on too tightly, suddenly embarrassed.
“Hi.” Charlie seems completely at ease.
“Just think about it, Charlie, once break is over, when will be the next time you get to skate on an outdoor rink?”
“I’m going to California, not the moon,” Charlie laughs.
Adam feels the knot in his stomach tighten. Suddenly, he wants to run away. Instead, he takes a long sip of the overly-sweet, cheap hot chocolate. “California just as might be the moon. It never snows and it’s full of surfer dudes, I hear.”
Charlie only laughs again and begins to skate backwards, facing Adam. “It’s not that bad. Lots of hippies but no surfer dudes where I’m at.”
Adam hums and begins to skate after Charlie. They drink hot chocolate and skate, sometimes talking, sometimes racing each other, probably making the couple with the small child anxious. At one point, Charlie takes Adam’s hand momentarily to get his attention and Adam bites his lip, more in frustration than anything.
He doesn’t know how to deal with all the ways that Charlie makes him feel. He used to feel safe. Now – now, Adam thinks he might drown in the invisible stew of his tangled feelings every time their eyes meet or their bodies touch. It’s insane. He feels insane.
It’s no good. They’re drifting apart, Adam can feel it. Charlie has given up on hockey and Adam has made it his life. He doesn’t know what that means, he’s not sure he wants to know. The snow is still falling and there are snowflakes tangled in Charlie’s hair. Adam wants to reach out and touch them. He wants to say silly, romantic things and he’s too scared to do it at the same time.
They stop for a break and Adam breathes out hard as Charlie grins at him. “Alright, this was a good idea.” He reaches out and brushes snow off of Adam’s shoulders.
Adam isn’t good with words. He’s good with actions – with skating and passing and shooting and folding his arms across his chest to show that he desperately doesn’t want to talk about something. And, apparently, he’s good deciding that the only way to say what he wants to is to lean in and impulsively kiss Charlie right there and then, in front of the ten-plus strangers on the rink. It’s quick and awkward and cautious. When he leans back, Charlie is staring at him, surprised and taken aback.
“Oh.”
Adam’s stomach sinks for a moment, before Charlie’s face suddenly lights up and he takes a large step forward, puts his hands on Adam’s shoulders and kisses him back. This time, Adam doesn’t let him go and doesn’t care that people he might see. He pulls Charlie in closer and wonders why he hadn’t done this sooner.
The first time Charlie says, “I love you.”
Adam is delirious with happiness. They’ve done it; they’ve won the championship. So many hours and days of work and sacrifice and hoping and it’s finally happened—just a few months before graduation too. His chances of being drafted have just gone through the roof.
The crowd is going wild and his teammates are still celebrating in the middle of the ice, but Adam detaches himself from the group and tries to find the one familiar face in the stands he is most eager to see. Charlie had promised he would come; Charlie had texted him he was flying out—There!
Adam skates to the edge of the ice toward his boyfriend who is making his way through the crowd. As soon as they’re within touching distance, Adam throws himself into Charlie’s arm and laughs happily into his shoulder as Charlie murmurs congratulations and endearments against his ear. They pull back and Charlie reaches out to touch his face—
Some instinct makes Adam step out of reach. He winces inwardly at the hurt look on Charlie’s face. “Come with me,” Adam mouths and they push their way through the crowd and down several hallways. Adam pushes Charlie into a storage closet and closes the door. Instantly, they’re kissing, their bodies pressed flush against each other.
“I feel like we’re in high school again,” Charlie whispers.
Adam lets out a soft laugh. “Sorry—I’m so glad you came!”
“Of course, I came. This means the world to you.”
“It does.” Adam can’t stop smiling. He has everything. He has the championship title, he has Charlie…
“Adam?” Something about the hesitation in Charlie’s voice puts Adam on edge.
“Hm?”
“Do you think, maybe—maybe it’s time we…came out?”
A cold chill runs down Adam’s back and he does not want to talk about this right now. Not when he’s so happy.
“It’s just,” Charlie continues, and Adam wishes he could see his face. “It’s getting so tiresome to constantly pretend like we’re not together. I’m sure people know anyway, or at least suspect. It will be even harder after this year, once you get drafted.”
Adam sighs and leans his forehead against Charlie’s. “Can’t we wait? We can tell the Ducks who don’t know yet, and your mom and Bombay already know… I know you don’t like the hiding, but I just…I want to make a name for myself as a hockey player before the drama of my personal life becomes front page news. You know?”
There’s a long pause during which Adam bites his lip. “I know.”
Adam breathes out with relief. “So, you don’t mind?”
Another pause, longer that Adam would like. “I love you, Adam. If you think this is best for you, then I’ll go along with it.”
Adam kisses him in gratitude. Only later he realizes that this is the first time Charlie had said I love you to him and that, in his excitement and relief, Adam had forgotten to say it back.
The first time Charlie walks away…
In all honesty, Adam knows he’s screwed up again. He simply isn’t prepared for this to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.
“I can’t…I can’t do this anymore.” Charlie’s voice is soft but uneven, he’s obviously struggling to get the words out.
“I don’t understand.” Adam can feel it, the gap of all the times they’ve been apart, the gap of all the Christmas, Thanksgivings and Fourth of Julys that he’s missed. He can feel the weight of all the opportunities that Charlie has given up for him, since they were children and Adam still can’t bring himself to feel anything but shock.
It’s like freshman year of high school again but worse.
Seven years together and Charlie is suddenly telling him that they’re through.
But maybe it’s not sudden at all. Maybe Adam has just been so far up his own ass that he hadn’t seen the warning signs, hadn’t noticed the lines around Charlie’s mouth growing deeper every year until he’s finally snapped. Or lost hope.
“Charlie, can’t we talk about this? If I had known we’d run so long over and that it would cause delay with the flights, I would have told you—”
“You always say the same thing. Banksie! Every time.” The Christmas tree is still up and its fairy light garland is on. It sparkles and laughs at Adam’s confusion from over Charlie’s shoulder. “It’s always I didn’t know, or but my career. And you think you’re always right.”
“I don’t! I—” The words hang on the tip of Adam’s tongue, but he can’t force them out. He has always done the best he could, he has tried to balance this relationship and his career the best he could. Is it his fault that hockey has always been his life? Is it his fault that this is what it takes to be the best? How can he apologize for something he would probably do again if he had the chance? Does that make me a bad person?
“You’ve taken everything we have for granted, you always have!”
“Stop, it’s not true!”
“Go on, Banks, tell me I’m the one who’s being selfish.”
It’s a challenge and Adam opens his mouth to speak only to clam up the instant his brain catches up to his body. He cannot in good faith say that. It would be untrue. Adam knows.
Deep down he’s always known. He needs Charlie, and he loves him, he does. He’s just never been very good at showing it. And now the several feet between them feel like the Atlantic Ocean has opened up in the middle of their living room and Adam can already feel the waves coming up over his head. “What do you want me to say?” he asks helplessly.
“Call me when you figure it out.” And like that Charlie’s gone, and Adam is left standing in the middle of an empty flat with all his fame and glory and achievement. And nothing but emptiness to hold on to.
The first time Adam says, “I’m sorry.”
Adam’s hands are shaking. His mother is in the hospital after an accident and he doesn’t know who to call. His father is halfway across the country on business and won’t be able to catch a flight until the morning; what few friends he has are no longer in Minneapolis and Adam hates the thought of breaking down in front of any of them on the phone anyway.
Almost without thinking, he texts Charlie and doesn’t expect a response. Not after everything they’d gone through. Not after everything he’s done.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything. About never putting you first, about never acknowledging that my big dreams were eating up everything else important in my life. I don’t know how to moderate perfectionism – it was the only way I coped as a kid. And I took it all out on you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry and I want to take it back. If you knew – my stats have been shit since you walked away and I can’t cope with anything on my own. If you can’t forgive me, fine, I probably deserve it. But please, please, just this one last time – I need you, Charlie. Please.
Adam cover’s his face with his hands and tries to not cry. He’s terrified, and no one will tell him anything. The minutes drag on in painful, empty monotony.
“Adam?”
Adam looks up, squinting against the bright lights of the hospital waiting room. Charlie is standing in front of him with a concerned look and a bag of take out from a burger joint they used to always go to when visiting home. Adam’s chest aches at the sight of it. “You came,” he says.
“Yea. Sorry I took a while. We had open house tonight…at the school.”
“Right.” Adam stands and reaches out tentatively. Charlie meets him half-way and folds him up into a hug.
“How’s your mom?”
“I don’t know yet. They promised me an update when she is out of surgery.”
“You should eat something.”
Adam isn’t hungry, but he takes the bag anyway. They sit down and Adam notices that Charlie is still holding his hand. He swallows and says, quietly. “Does this mean you forgive me?”
Charlie looks away. “It’s complicated, Banksie. I don’t know.”
“I’m really sorry about everything. I really am,” Adam tries, the words stiff and unusual to him. “I meant everything I said in that text. I’m no good at expressing how I feel about things and I have a serious case of tunnel vision when it comes to my career – that has always gotten me into trouble. But I feel like shit when I’m not with you and…” He breaks off, feeling like he might cry if he goes on. It’s just too much right now.
Charlie squeezes his hand. “We can talk about it later, ok?”
Adam nods and leans his head onto Charlie’s shoulder. “Ok.” If he can get this back, he’s never letting it go again.