Archive of Our Own

Adam Banks was born to greatness.

At least that was what his father had always said, and everything seemed to bear Adam’s destined greatness out. He was born to a wealthy family in Minneapolis’ richest suburb with all the privileges and advantages that that bestowed, and to top it all off, he was a natural talent on the ice. Some would even say a prodigy. The Next Gretsky.

There were only a few setbacks to get in the way of Adam’s assured success. The first was when an insufficiently gerrymandered peewee hockey district and a stubborn coach of an underserved team with principles forced Adam to move from the well-equipped and professionally coached team of his peers to a group of just barely competent misfits. But this setback soon became a boon to Adam in that it lead to a miracle championship, Adam’s hockey debut on the international stage and a full scholarship to an elite preparatory school with direct pipelines to either the NHL or an Ivy League school. The world was still Adam’s oyster.

The second setback was that Adam fell in love. Hard. And with a boy. And even more disastrously, that boy had fallen for Adam too.

To Adam, falling in love with Charlie Conway felt like the most natural thing in the world. There was no one he liked or trusted more. And while Adam didn’t think his father was necessarily happy that his son was anything other than completely heterosexual, he tolerated it as best as Adam could ever have expected him to. His father consoled himself with his son’s apparently gayness by taking pride in the fact that Adam being gay would make his eventual breakthrough to the NHL even better. ‘ADAM BANKS BREAKS BARRIERS AS WELL AS RECORDS’, his father quipped during one of his better moods. His father was always eager for more accolades and bigger headlines.

But Charlie was the problem. Adam’s future couldn’t be held back by a youthful dalliance and young love with a boy who was counting on nothing more than a good scholarship to the local state school. His father argued that the boys' feelings were fleeting, temporary and Adam couldn’t afford to let them cloud his judgment or lose sight of the future that they’d worked so hard for.

“I’d tell you the same thing if it was a girl,” His father said, as if that was supposed to make Adam feel any better. No Adam, should focus on school and hockey, not romance and friendship. So Phillip Banks, along with Adam’s older brother and even sometimes, his mother, imparted on Adam the importance that Charlie and Adam could not last much beyond graduation.

Adam resisted though, his relationship with Charlie didn’t feel fleeting or temporary. It felt more like forever, and it hadn’t impacted his hockey or grades at all, so what reason would he have to think that it would hurt down the line? As far as he could see, it only helped him. Charlie helped him focus, and more importantly bolstered his confidence. His father was biased by his preconceptions, but Charlie saw Adam as he was and supported him anyways. He didn’t see why being with Charlie had to hold him back from anything. In the end, Adam was only swayed when his father made the argument that staying together would hold back Charlie too.

Adam was always secure in his place in the world with a strong safety net, however Charlie wasn’t and Adam knew that. He could deal with the ups and downs that came with that for his own life but he couldn’t allow that for Charlie. So a month after they graduated from Eden Hall, Adam ended it. Charlie hadn’t taken it well, and something broke inside Adam as he watched Charlie walk away. He knew he’d lost something precious, and he was never going to get it back.

He really would focus on school and hockey, because Adam knew (and he didn’t know how he knew this) that he would never love anyone else. Not like that.

The third set back was probably the most severe and the most long lasting in its consequences. Midway through the season, his sophomore year of college, Adam’s knee was blown out in the middle of a game. It required three surgeries and six months of intense rehabilitation and when all that was finished, the results were clear. Adam’s bright promising hockey career was over.

So Adam turned to the alternative route. He’d decided to major in business to appease his father. He hadn’t minded at the time because the college major wasn’t important when he was playing hockey. But once the college degree became the main goal, Adam found the subject dry and boring. Which was why upon obtaining his undergraduate degree, he chose not to pursue an MBA in Chicago as his father wanted him to, but rather went to law school in Ann Arbor instead. 

It may not have had the glory and fame of a professional hockey career, but it was still something that Adam had chosen for himself.

The fourth setback was the 2008 market crash which through a multiple factors lead to Adam being let go from the prestigious firm in Chicago he’d been recruited to upon graduation from U.M.

Adam’s fall in life coincided with Charlie’s rise. It wasn’t exactly the same thing, but by all appearances, Charlie got to live the life that Adam was supposed to have been destined for. He was one of the top ten college players in the county, leading his school to a national Division I championship, and then in a surprising turn forewent the draft and instead took an assistant coaching position at his alma mater. He shortly graduated to a position in the NHL and the year prior to Adam’s layoff, as a surprise to everyone except those who knew him, he was named the head coach of the Minnesota Wild at age 28 tying Paul Maurice as the second youngest person to ever be named head coach of a professional hockey team. He went on to lead the Wild to their first winning season in five years.

He was truly the Minnesota Miracle in every way that counted.

Adam was proud of him and he tried to remind himself of that whenever he felt a pang of regret or resentment at how things had turned out. It had been the right decision to end things, he would tell himself. Charlie would never have gotten to where he was had they stayed together. Adam tried to believe that. He really did. But he never quite succeeded, because it seemed pretty clear every time he saw Charlie's name in the headlines that Adam had made the biggest mistake of his life.

At least Charlie was doing well, even when he was not.

But that thought provided him no comfort as he walked into his apartment, his box of personal belongings from the office in hand, and stared at the shambles of his life. The life he’d sacrificed Charlie for and found the darkness cloud around him again.

No, it was no comfort at all.

Adam stayed in Chicago for the remaining two weeks of his lease. His father had pulled a few strings and gotten him an interview with Sutton & Fischer, a prestigious regional firm in Minneapolis. He’d gotten the job, and Adam wasn’t entirely sure if he got it because they thought he was a genuinely good attorney or because of his family connections. Adam didn’t know which option was worse. In reality, Adam thought it was probably a bit of both. To make matters even more depressing, he would have to law clerk for about a month or so until he passed the Minnesota bar.

He was lucky, he knew, there were plenty of people in much worse situations; he’d gotten a job that still allowed him to hang on to a lot of his savings and he didn’t have nearly the amount of student loans that most of his contemporaries had.

But he still felt like a failure.

It was raining on the evening in early March when Adam rolled back into his childhood home in Edina. The lights outside were on but Adam noted that his father’s Mercedes was not in the driveway. His parents weren’t home. That was fine by Adam, he didn’t particularly want to see them. His mother would shower him with pity and his father…well Adam did not feel like bearing the brunt of his father’s disappointment at the moment.

Adam was very aware of all the dreams he’d dashed on his father’s behalf. He didn’t need a reminder.

He watched the disappearing tail lights of the taxi before he trudged up the walkway and brushed his hand over the door frame to find the spare key that he knew was there. His parents—most likely his mom—had left the lights on in the foyer and he found a small note on the small table by the stairs. They were at the country club having dinner with friends. Not surprising.

Adam threw down his bag, he noted the boxes laid out across the dining room table. He’d had them shipped ahead in anticipation of his arrival. He’d already leased a furnished apartment close to the office, but he wouldn’t be able to move in until Monday. And then he would start work on Tuesday.

He took his time scouring the fridge for something to eat until he finally just settled on a bowl of bran cereal. A completely unsatisfying meal, but he supposed he should get used to it, it wasn’t like he would be able to afford to eat like he had when he was in Chicago, at least for the next year or so.

His room was exactly the way it had been when he’d officially moved out after finishing his undergraduate degree. It was a stranger’s room really, the old, outdated hockey posters, the boombox on the dresser. A ghost of the person he used to be.

Adam didn’t know if he recognized anything of himself in the room, but his phone was soon buzzing in his pocket, providing him relief from any further existential pondering along those lines. He didn’t even bother checking to see who it was when he answered it.

“Hello.”

“Adam! You picked up!”

Adam was so out of sorts from traveling the whole day and the general dissatisfaction with his life that it took him a moment to realize it was Connie on the other end of the line.

“Umm yeah, hey Connie,” he said.

“So you’re back today right?” she asked, her voice seemed somewhat unsure, but still bright and perky and positive.

“Oh yeah, I just got in,” he said.

“So are you settled? Lisa told me that she got you a good deal. If she lied you have to tell me, I told her that you’re family so….”

“It’s fine, I actually can’t move in until Monday, I’m at my parents for the next couple of days.”

Connie’s groan was somewhat muffled over the cell line but Adam smiled. Connie was well aware of his relationship with his parents.

“Well anyways, I wanted to call because with everything that’s going on, I forgot to tell you that me and Guy just moved as well. We bought our house, we’re homeowners!” Connie practically squealed in delight over the phone.

“Congratulations,” Adam said, trying to sound genuine. He was happy for them and their success, but with the state of his own life, it was hard to muster any additional enthusiasm.

“Yeah, so anyways, we’re hosting an impromptu housewarming party tomorrow and I wanted to make sure you could come.”

“Well….”

“Oh you have to, most everyone is going to be there, Fulton, Jesse, hell even, Averman is here,” Connie said.

Adam paused for a moment. She hadn’t said Charlie’s name and she didn’t say everyone was going to be there. Did that mean that Charlie wasn’t going to be there? It was possible that Minnesota had an away game and so Charlie was out of town but Adam also knew that Connie and Guy were unlikely to hold a party on a day that Charlie couldn’t make it...

“I’ve barely seen my parents since I’ve been back,” Adam said, “I don’t know if they have any other plans."

“Come on Adam, it’s been so long since we’ve all been in the same room,” Connie said, “it will be good for you. I know it.”

Adam sighed, he didn’t really believe her but at the same time he couldn’t exactly say no. He loved Connie and the rest of his teammates, and he did want to see them. So he pushed all of his concerns related to Charlie aside. Adam knew that seeing Charlie now would be unbearable but he would have to face him sooner or later. It was probably better to do it sooner. Get it over with.

“Okay,” Adam said, “I’ll be there.”

“Excellent! Just come as you are, you don’t need to bring a gift. Oh it’s so great that everyone is here,” Connie said.

Adam didn’t agree, but he told Connie to text him the address and wished her a good night and one more congratulations on the house before hanging up. He threw the phone across the bed and collapsed.

He spent a few minutes staring at the ceiling and pondered his predicament. He was pretty sure Charlie was going to be at Connie and Guy’s, he had to assume he'd be there. It had been ten years really since they parted. A part of Adam thought he should be past this, people had encounters with their exes all the time, it was no big deal.

But Adam felt his heart flutter at the thought of seeing Charlie again. He grabbed his phone from the corner of the bed where it had fallen and moved to place it on the nightstand so he could charge it. It was there that the picture caught his eye. It was in a simple brown wooden frame, Adam didn’t remember exactly when it was taken, but he knew it was from some time in their junior year of high school, they’d been together for a couple of month, in that small time before anyone had really known about them. They were sitting in what looked like a booth in some casual restaurant, Charlie was wearing a University of Minnesota t-shirt and Adam had a blue and orange plaid button up that was unbuttoned above a white t-shirt. Adam had his arm around Charlie and Charlie was—well he was looking at Adam smiling. Adam could see it on Charlie’s face, he hadn’t made note of it back then, but he surely noted that now.

Charlie had loved him, and Adam had broken his heart. There would be no coming back from that, even if it had been the right thing to do at the time.

Adam stared at it for one long moment, the familiar pain began to rise in his chest. It had been ten years, but Adam still felt everything as if it was yesterday. He turned the frame over and removed the photo from the frame, and driven by some hidden compulsion removed the photo and folded it up and placed it in his billfold.

Yes, it would be better to get the reunion out of the way now, and then maybe, Adam could move on.

Or at least maybe then it wouldn’t hurt as much.

Connie had said not to bring gifts, but Adam had brought a bottle of a particularly good red wine as a house-warming gift. He made sure not to get there too early, so by the time he arrived \he had to park a few houses down from his destination.

He took his time making his way down the road, trying to brace himself for the night ahead. He wasn’t prepared for the inevitable questions, the knowing looks. He wasn't prepared to see Charlie again.

The house was packed, bursting with music and a dozen competing conversations. Adam didn’t recognize anyone at first, but soon Connie greeted him at the door, wrapping him in a hug and saying how it had been too long and she had missed him.

It really had been too long, Adam thought. While he had never wanted for acquaintances or drinking buddies in Chicago or during college, he hadn’t really had any real friends since the Ducks.  So it wasn't a lie when Adam said he was genuinely glad to see Connie.

“You came!” Connie exclaimed when she pulled away, “come on in.”

She waved him through the hall and to the living room, a couple of kids ran by and Adam had to do a quick evasive maneuver. He felt a sort of a crick in his knee at the sudden movement and he barely avoided tumbling to the ground.

“Oh my god, is that Banksy?!”

Adam looked up to see Jesse Hall coming towards him, beaming. Adam couldn't help but beam right back.

“Man, long time no see, how have you been?”

Adam wasn't able to respond before Jesse brought him in for a hug.

“I’m okay,” Adam said, patting Jesse on the back.

“Well if it isn’t cake eater,” Averman said, coming up from behind, Guy was leaning against his shoulder with a beer in hand, “finally made his way back to the homefront. How’s the cake on the nice side of the tracks?”

“Not so good I’m afraid,” Adam said; he scoured the room for the other guests but he did not see Charlie there.

“Man, I heard about your knee, that must really suck,” Jesse said.

“It’s been a while,” Adam said, “I can even skate now, just can’t get checked or anything.”

“Still, we all thought you were going to go all the way.”

It had been years since Adam had felt bad about the loss of his hockey career; he’d almost forgotten how everyone had always expected him to go pro, be the all star that everyone said he was going to be. At the time of his injury, Adam had sunk into a deep depression, left without a purpose. But he had pulled himself back up and now he could look back on his short lived time on the ice with something akin to fondness. The only lingering failing was the slight ache in his knee when he exerted himself too much or when it rained.

“Oh believe me, that whole thing is behind me,” Adam said.

There were questions then about his job and Chicago and being laid off. Jesse introduced his wife and for at least a little while, Adam lost himself to the conversation. He could do this, catch up with old friends, pretend that there was no awkwardness or regrets. No ten year old decision hanging over his head.

In a way the ease of conversation Adam had with them was a bit of a relief. Whatever had gone down between him and Charlie ten years ago it hadn’t affected his relationships with his other teammates. They were still there. They had not taken sides. Not that Adam wasn't fully aware that if they had, it would not be his side they would choose.

The conversation did soon turn to hockey however, which lead to talk of Charlie and his hockey career.

“They’re definitely making the playoffs,” Guy said, “I can’t believe Charlie was able to pull off those draft picks and trades during the off season.”

“He was always one for miracles,” Connie said, “they definitely have a shot for the conference title if not the finals.”

Adam tried not to seem too interested, though it wasn’t like they were saying anything he didn't already knew. Adam had followed Charlie’s career since they split. Only a select few of their former teammates had known about the affair, either while it was happening or after it was over. Adam assumed that most of them took Adam’s feigned disinterest to be because they were saying things he already knew. They may not have all known the extent of Adam and Charlie’s relationship but they did know that they were close.

“Speaking of the Miracle Man himself,” Averman said and everyone turned to where he was staring, which was the front door just as Charlie Conway was walking through with a large pizza bock and a six pack of beer.

It had been ten years since Adam had seen Charlie in person and he couldn’t help but draw in a breath at the sight. Charlie was taller, more built and toned, he still walked with a sort of casual bit of swagger which betrayed both his confidence and his easy-going nature. He smiled and greeted everyone he met, calling out the occasional comment to another guest. And Adam realized that any hope of him having nothing but indifference towards his ex was futile.

Charlie was still Charlie, though older and more prominent. And Adam was still absolutely in love with him.

“Oh hey Spazway!” Jesse called waving Charlie over after he’d set down the pizza and beer and hugged Connie.

“That’s Coach Spazway to you,” Charlie said, laughing as he joined the group. Adam shrank back, as if maybe it was possible that Charlie would never notice he was there.

“Yeah, we get it, you hit the big time,” Jesse said, patting Charlie on the back, “But we can’t all be singing your praises, gotta keep you humble.”

“I’m plenty humble,” Charlie said, and it was then that he seemed to take stock of the group. Adam looked away when Charlie’s eyes reached him and he tried to contain himself. He noticed Charlie pause for a moment but then turn back to Jesse seemingly unmoved by Adam's presence.

“Your offseason picks really paid off this season huh,” Jesse was saying, “I think you’ll get to the quarters at least.”

Charlie shrugged.

“You never know,” Charlie said, “Gotta take one game at a time. I think I’ll do well enough to keep my job at least.”

Adam stayed silent, trying to look for a reason to escape, but he couldn’t find one. Basically everyone he knew was in this group. You’re pathetic, he admonished himself. It had been ten years, he should be more composed. He’d known that this reunion was inevitable from the moment he’d agreed to come back to Minnesota, and Adam hadn’t been willing to forego their mutual connections. There was no way that he would ever be able to avoid Charlie completely unless he wanted to cut off every friend he had.

“Speaking of keeping jobs,” Guy said, acknowledging Adam for the first time since Charlie had joined the group, “how great is it that Banksy is back in town. It’s just like the old days! Too bad about the layoff though.”

Adam thought it was most certainly not like the old days, in that he tried to look at anyone but Charlie which was directly opposite to how they used to be. Adam had no wish to crow about his upcoming employment on the best of days, but he definitely didn't want to show it off here.

“Yeah, well,” he said, “it’s hardly a big thing. I can’t even start my full position until I pass the bar. I’ll be the resident law clerk for the next couple of months.”

Adam failed in his attempt to not pay any attention to Charlie’s reaction, he definitely noticed the way Charlie looked at his shoes the whole time Adam was talking. Adam didn’t know whether he should be bothered or comforted by the fact that Charlie was obviously not disaffected by Adam’s return. Bothered because it was a painful reminder of what Adam had given up, comforted by the fact that he still had some effect on Charlie.

The others found Adam’s answer about his employment to be uninteresting and no one seemed to want to ask further and moved on to other more interesting topics, which was fine by Adam. It wasn’t like Adam was completely happy that he was back in Minnesota, or that his career was where he wanted it to be. Not that he’d been particularly happy with where he’d been in Chicago either, but at least there his job had been a mark of success and not a fallback because everything went to shit.

“You know how long has it been since we’ve all been in the same room together?” Averman asked, pulling Adam out of his inner self deprecation and back to the conversation.

“There’s still plenty of ‘us’ missing,” Jesse remarked.

“I know, but this group right here, we’re the core members,” Averman said, “the hometown heros.”

“Goldberg’s not here,” Connie said as she squeezed in between Adam and Guy, handing her husband one of the beers that Charlie had brought, “can you really say it’s a Duck meeting without Goldberg.”

Averman waved her off.

“He’s in Philly, just like he always used to threaten back in the day,” Averman said, “I was more thinking Banksy usually isn’t here and now…”

“It’s been ten years.”

Everyone turned to Charlie who had cut Averman off, and for just a second, Adam and Charlie’s eyes met directly and Adam shivered involuntarily under the weight of it. The pressure was sinking in. Charlie for his part seemed to not be affected at all. He’d said the simple statement so casually, as if it was a simple rote fact that he had no feelings about at all and Adam wondered if he’d maybe imagined Charlie’s earlier demeanor and that the awkwardness and tension of this reunion was all in his head.

“Has it really been that long?” Guy asked, “I mean surely our wedding?”

“I wasn’t there,” Adam said and he hated how meek he sounded, and everyone turned to him. Everyone that is, except Charlie, a fact that did not and could not escape Adam’s notice.

“Oh that’s right, you had a family thing, right?” Guy asked.

Adam just nodded, but didn’t say anything. He couldn’t quite remember what the excuse had been, whether it had been family or work or school related. At the time, Adam had still been entertaining the idea that he should just let all of his acquaintances go. The team, the Ducks, they belonged to Charlie, if push came to shove Adam would let Charlie have them.

He hadn’t though, someone was always in touch and the one silver lining of their breakup, Adam would tell himself, was the assurance that his friends really were, his friends. The one bright light of it all.

Adam lost track of the conversation again, he soon excused himself to go to the bathroom. When he’d returned to the scene of the party the group had disbursed so Adam just grabbed a drink and meandered through the living room and the hallway gazing at the pictures on the tables and walls of the life that Connie and Guy had built with each other. It was a little while before Adam noticed that room had seemed to clear as people began to leave or head out to the backyard for fresh air. Adam only noticed this when he was able to distinguish the voices coming from the kitchen.

It was Connie and Charlie. Adam stayed back and out of view.

“It’s been ten years,” Connie was saying. Adam heard the clanking of dishes in the sink and the running of water.

“Still you should’ve known,” Charlie’s voice was just barely intelligible.

“He’s our friend,” Connie said, “there’s no way we could have not invited him.”

“It’s too hard, you saw him Connie, what was he getting at?”

There was more clanking and their voices muffled but Adam leaned in just by the doorframe. His heart was beating frantically. This was the closest he was going to get to figuring out how Charlie felt.

“—was your friend too,” Adam was just able to make out Connie’s voice amidst the activity.

“Yeah, well he burned that bridge a long time ago.”

It was then that Adam knew he’d heard enough. It might have been too much to hope that the most that Charlie felt towards him was indifference. The cut was too deep. Adam had broken him, he knew that now. Time didn’t heal all wounds.

The walls of the room began to close around him, and he had to get out. Get away. He was mortified to find that he was fighting back actual tears.

Get a hold of yourself, he commanded. None of this was a surprise. But it still hurt.

He made his way to the front door when Connie’s voice stopped him just as he turned the doorknob.

“You’re leaving?” she asked, a plate of mini pizzas rested on the tray, “the night is just beginning.”

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself, before turning back to her.

“I have stuff to do tomorrow, new job starts on Monday you know,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice steady, “Also I’m a little tired.”

“Okay, it was really great that you could make it,” she said, and her smile softened a bit which sent a twinge of guilt up Adam’s spine. He almost gave in to the guilt and resolve to stay, but he remembered Charlie’s words and so stayed resolute. He had to get out of there.

“Well, I just wanted you to know. That we’re all really glad to have you back. Really.”

Adam doesn’t want to read too much into that last part, but surely she was lying. They weren't all happy to see him. At least one of them was the exact opposite of that, and it was the one that mattered most. Adam just nodded, thanked her again for her hospitality and headed out into the night, which despite being the warmest night on record for that time of year, seemed unbearably cold to Adam.

Adam’s new job started with little fanfare, he was clerking until he could pass the bar exam in a few months, so it was quite a change of pace from his corporate law position back in Chicago. Mostly he reviewed memos, edited pleadings and had even been given the opportunity to shadow a few attorneys at hearings when the opportunity arose. Back in Chicago, Adam had mostly dealt in contracts and agreements, he actually hadn’t to be in Court since his internship back in law school. It was a bit intimidating, but Adam did find that he was somewhat excited about being given the opportunity to make oral arguments. He’d been surprisingly good at it at Michigan and it would be nice to brush up on his skills.

Adam thought that his run-ins with Charlie would be few and far between, the hockey season was still in full swing which meant that Charlie was away a lot. But the fact that most of their core friends were still entirely same meant that they were not as few as Adam had expected. It was mostly Connie and Guy who kept insisting that he come over for dinner or a late night beer in their backyard. They’d insist, Adam was the only one aside from Charlie who didn’t have kids and who could get away. Adam knew he should say no at least some of the time, particularly if he knew Charlie was in town or didn’t have a game, but to be honest he liked the company. Adam really wasn’t that much of an introvert, and honestly with the state of his life, he didn’t find sitting at home with leftover pizza all that appealing an option. Not to mention that saying no to Connie was always difficult, she was very stubborn when it came to things like that.

“I like having things my way,” She said to him, as they sat out on the deck and listened to a pair of owls hooting in the distance, Guy was sent off on dish duty and Minnesota was on the road so Charlie wasn’t there, “and lord knows you’ll never get out if no one forces you to.”

“I get out,” he protested, “I used to go out all the time in Chicago.”

“Oh yeah,” she said, “and how many friends have you made at your firm since you started?”

Adam shot her glare, trying to urge her not to push it. She ignored him, as she usually did.

“Look, I’m not really fully there yet, not until I sit for the bar next month,” he said, “besides, you and Guy and Jesse keep me busy.”

“We just worry about you,” she said.

“I’m fine,” Adam stated, “the layoff was not great, but it wasn’t like I wasn’t expecting it. People are going through worse.”

Connie sighed.

“It’s not about the job,” she said, “It’s other things.”

Adam had a guess as to what she was getting at, but he wasn’t going to say it.

“I’m fine,” he reiterated, “I’ve been fine. Sure my job is a bit of a downgrade, and I have to spend more time with my parents than I’m used to. Apparently my dad’s firm isn’t doing so well. But I don’t need anything else.”

“You’re alone though,” she said.

Adam looked at her.

“I’m here with you, aren’t I? That’s not exactly alone,” he said.

“Okay, but what about….”

“I’m not interested in that right now,” Adam said, trying to make his voice sound as definitive as possible.

“Have you ever been interested?” Connie asked, she was trying to pry for any information, he knew and he wondered if she had told Guy to go in for an extended period of time to allow them to have this conversation.

“I’ve seen people,” Adam said, “there was a guy in Chicago, he was fine.”

“So what happened?”

Adam shrugged.

“He wanted more, I—“ Adam said, he wished she would just drop the whole thing, “I was busy, I couldn’t give him that.”

“And why couldn’t you give him that?” Connie asked. She wasn’t going to let it go.

“I’m not going to say it,” Adam said, “you can’t make me. I’m not going to talk about it.”

Connie hung her head and groaned.

“God, the two of you are ridiculous. How are you guys supposed to be friends if you won’t talk about it.”

Adam scratched at his brow, he knew she was referring to Charlie. He decided, nonchalance on his part was the best way to try to throw Connie off. Better to act like he and Charlie already had an understanding.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Adam said, “it was a long time ago, and me and Charlie are fine.”

Connie didn’t believe him, he could tell by the way that the pitying look in her eyes didn’t go away.

“Okay, but I’ve accepted it,” Adam said, relenting a bit when she didn't let up, “I knew when I ended it that that was it, I would never get it back.”

“And you want it back,” she said.

Adam sighed, and gave Connie a small sad smile. She’d won in the end, like she always did.

“Yes,” he said, scratched at the label on the bottle in front of him, “every day.”

Connie doesn’t say anything after that, rather she let Guy rejoin them and they talk about everything and nothing, but every time Charlie or hockey came up, Connie would shoot Adam a look and Adam would sigh and wait for the topic to move on.

Maybe someday everything with Charlie and being alone wouldn’t hurt so much, but that seemed like a long way off.

Despite Connie’s apparent concern, Adam wasn’t entirely friendless at work. As he wasn’t yet a full fledged attorney, he was put in an office with Steph Michaels, the firm’s public coordinator, executive assistant and human resources consultant. She was an attractive woman, and though at first she would throw Adam a few appraising looks she quickly realized that that was a dead-end. But they soon developed a bit of a workplace camaraderie as being the lowest rungs of the firm aside from maybe the mail clerks.

It wasn’t a huge room, just barely big enough to fit two small desks, and there were times when her work would make its way onto his desk and his to hers. This was why it wasn’t completely surprising to find things on his desk that were not and did not pertain to him. What was surprising was that Adam had to come in one day to see a local magazine (one of the free publications displayed in hotel lobbies and reception of offices that will eventually litter the sidewalks outside) on the middle of his desk with Charlie on it front and center, hands on hips, the headline “The Minnesota Miracle” in a clear white serif font splayed across the cover.

It wasn’t intentional, Adam knew, but it was still another way that Charlie was a constant presence in his life. Even at his work. It was bad enough that his friends were dragging him to a game the coming Thursday, and Adam’s phone was constantly buzzing from texts about it. Apparently too many tickets had been bought, or someone’s spouse couldn’t go, Adam was only barely paying attention to it at this point. He just knew that come Thursday, Connie and Guy were picking him up and taking him there.

Steph slipped into the office as Adam was clearing the stuff off his desk and she slipped into her desk.

“Sorry about the mess,” she said, “it’s the worst time of the year for me.”

“Why’s that?” Adam asked, the question was a rote response, he was mostly looking for the law book he’d known he’d put out the day before to finish a memo that was due at the end of the week.

“Oh every year they put me in charge of coordinating and running the firm’s annual community outreach. We host and set up an event as a goodwill act to the community, you know like a park clean up or a build day with Habitat for Humanity. It generates good PR you know,” she said, “except it’s always more work and they really don’t pay me enough for this. I have to find big names in the community to come out and be a part of it. It’s a circus. Really we should just give money, it’d be more effective.”

Adam agreed though he guessed the firm just writing a check to a local organization wasn’t showy enough. He patted her back as an act of sympathy. She smiled and began rooting through the materials spread out around the office. When her eyes stopped on the magazine cover with Charlie she cocked her head a little.

“He’s really handsome, isn’t he?” Steph said out of the blue, and Adam who had been trying to focus on the memo didn’t initially realize who she was talking about and so he automatically asked who in response.

“The hockey coach,” she said, “I know it’s silly, this being Minnesota and all, but I always thought hockey people were very scruffy. Not---”

She gestured at the cover of the magazine. Adam smiled, grateful that she’d tacked on the last comment. It made it easier for him to respond to her.

“Well some of us manage to make it through with all our teeth.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and he laughed.

“You used to play hockey?” she asked.

He nodded, and realized that he’d never expected to be asked that question like hockey had been just a hobby, and not something he’d dedicated the first twenty years of his life pursuing.

“Yeah, through most of college,” he said.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Blew out my knee, couldn’t come back from that,” he waved off the apparent sympathy in her eyes, “It’s fine, I’m fine. No regrets, things happen.”

She nodded, her gaze went between him and the magazine cover until her face suddenly lit up in a smile.

“Hey, what if the firm hosts like a hockey event, like a ‘clinic’ or something. Rent out a rink and some gear and we can ask the Coach or maybe some of the players to come out and teach the kids for an afternoon.”

“You can do that?” Adam asked.

“Oh sure, you know the partners are very well established in the community, I’ll just go through their connections,” she said.

Adam debated telling her that actually going through the senior partners might not be necessary, but he didn’t want to go through that history if she didn’t already know it. But she seemed so frazzled and maybe her desk would be more organized if she was able to pull this thing together. 

“You might not have to,” he said finally, giving in to his instinct to be helpful when presented with a problem, “I have friends who are really close with him.”

“Close with who?” she asked.

Adam pointed to the cover of Charlie, he didn’t think him not mentioning his own connection to Charlie counted as a lie. He’d said friends and he wasn’t friends with Charlie. Not exactly.

“With him,” Adam said, “I’m actually going to the game on Thursday with them, we're planning on meeting him after the game. You can come, I think we have an extra ticket or so.”

“Oh my god, really? That would be a huge help,” Steph said, tucking a brunette strand of hair behind her ear, “I mean if it wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience.”

“Not really,” Adam said, “Just cover the cost of the ticket and you should be good. My friend Connie is always saying how we need more women at these things anyways.”

Steph gave a slight laugh and thanked him again before they both went back to work for the rest of the day.

By the time Thursday rolled around, Adam was having second thoughts about going to the game. He chastised himself for inviting Steph to the game thus engineering a situation that he couldn’t avoid or cancel. Most of the unease came from the fact that he hadn’t expected Connie to react so enthusiastically when he mentioned he was bringing someone to the game. He didn’t understand the big deal, they had an extra ticket, Steph needed to arrange the charity event so needed access to Charlie and Adam had gone into an automatic problem-solving mode and forgot all the possible complications.

It wasn’t until Guy and Connie picked him up to go to the game that Adam realized that the reason for that excitement was that Connie had thought Steph was a guy. She realized the mistake pretty quickly though.

“So tell us about this Steph,” Connie asked, turning around in the front seat and shot him a look that told Adam exactly what her thoughts on the matter were. Connie was good at many things, but hiding her thoughts was not one of them.

“Oh, Steph is fine, we share an office. She’s a pretty together person,” Adam said.

“She?” This came from Guy in the driver’s seat, “I thought…”

“Wait, you asked a woman?” Connie cut Guy off.

Just as Adam thought, the disappointment on both their (but particularly Connie's) faces. They thought he was bringing a date. Really, they should have known better. If Adam was going to take someone out on a date it certainly wouldn’t be to a hockey game with his closest friends (the Ducks were family really) and certainly not a hockey game where one of the teams was coached by his ex-boyfriend.

Adam had dated. Back in Chicago there’d been a few guys, one or two even approached something serious and exclusive, but Adam had always backed away when things were getting too serious. He had dated because he didn’t want to be alone, but he’d already had the love of his life. And he'd lost it.

“Yeah, she’s planning a charity event for the firm, and she wants to do a free hockey clinic and when I mentioned that I knew Charlie, she sort of jumped at the opportunity,” Adam said, “she’s nice and I don’t know, I was being helpful.”

That was an obfuscation of the truth. Maybe it was really impertinent of him to invite her to ask Charlie a favor when he and Charlie weren’t on the best of terms at the moment.

The car was silent save for the sounds of the traffic outside, Adam couldn’t pinpoint the source of the lull in the conversation, whether it was the disappointment that Steph was not a date or the fact that Adam had dropped Charlie’s name so casually.

“That does sound like something up Charlie’s alley,” Guy said finally and Adam noticed that Guy shot a private look at Connie, “that’s a good thing.”

“What’s a good thing?” Connie shot back.

“It’s good that he—,” Guy jerks his head back in Adam’s direction, “has moved on and can acknowledge that he and Charlie were friends.”

Adam didn’t quite know how to feel about them having a conversation about him as if he wasn't in the car with them.

“It’s awkward is what it is,” Connie said and Adam had to say he agreed with Connie, she shot him a look, “But a charity hockey event for kids is something that Charlie would be into.”

Nothing else was said on the rest of the ride to the arena. They met Steph a few paces down from the main entrance. Connie and Guy were perfectly civil and Adam thought for a moment that maybe, just maybe everything would be fine. Of course, fine went out the window when they came upon the rest of their “group”. They found Jesse, Terry and Averman along with their wives (save for Jesse’s who stayed home because of a family issue with her mother) just before the lines for the security into the arena. After the initial introductions and greetings were finished the group settled on the topic of the newcomer.

“So, Connie, I guess now we can say Julie isn’t your only girlfriend, eh?” Averman said and then grunted when his wife, Denise, jabbed an elbow into his ribs.

Connie wasn’t even phased by Averman's comment, she just rolled her eyes. Steph was a bit taken aback, because she stammered to correct his comment, not in tune with the group dynamic.

“Oh no, actually, I’m with Adam,” she said and Adam wanted to melt into the concrete floor as the group became suddenly quiet and stared at him.

“Oh,” Averman said, “Well that’s less fun. Hope Banksy didn’t talk too badly about us.”

Steph shook her head.

“He actually didn’t really talk about any of you at all,” she said.

“I never talk about anybody at work,” Adam muttered, knowing that any attempt to diffuse the situation would be ultimately futile.

“Figures. Well Banksy’s always been quiet,” Averman said, “Guess that’s why he was the best player on the team.”

Steph looked confused for a moment at the mention of Adam being on a team, but was not given the opportunity to question it when Fulton came up and the group moved on to unrelated topics. It was only later after they’d gone through security into the arena that Adam caught Jesse and Averman talking.

“I can’t believe he brought a woman, I thought Banksy was gay?” he heard Averman not really whisper into Jesse’s ears. Jesse just shrugged and Adam sighed.

“She’s just a coworker,” he said loud enough that they knew he was talking to them but not draw the attention of the entire group.

“Sorry man,” Jesse said.

Adam waved it off and just passed them as they made their way into the arena. The seats were good and were behind the Minnesota bench, though not right there. Steph ended up taking the seat on his other side and Adam zoned out of the conversation for awhile. He concentrated on the cold emanating from the ice and he watched the guys out on the ice during warm ups and Adam felt a twinge of—not regret, but something akin to loss. He’d long made peace with the end of his hockey career, it hadn’t been in his control, but there was something about seeing and being this close to the ice and watching guys his age or younger out there was making him feel some type of way.

Hockey had been all that Adam had wanted to do since he could walk. It had been the only thing he’d ever been really good at. Who was Adam Banks without hockey? Despite it being eight years since the injury, Adam wasn’t sure he’d quite figured that out yet. Maybe he never would.

Adam was in and out on most of the group's conversations, only responding when a comment directed at him specifically. Connie was mostly explaining the rules and terms to Steph. Averman and Jesse were offering assorted commentary as to the more prominent players. None of the coaching staff was yet in the box, though Adam didn’t think that was unusual, when you play professionally like that it isn’t like you’d need a coach to set up your drills. It wasn’t long though until the signals were made to end the warm up and the players retreated back into the locker room and out of view. They all quieted as the lights went down and the speakers boomed with some version of early nineties jock jams as the starting line-ups for both teams were introduced, and then quieted for the playing of the national anthem. When the lights went back on, they all turned to the jumbotron above for the pre-game in-house interviews. They interviewed Jordan Naylor, Minnesota’s captain first, and then emblazoned on the big screen was Charlie in full lights. Charlie gave the usual answers, his thoughts on their state of play, complimenting the visiting team’s strength and the usual pre-game fluff. He was the eminent professional, although there was a cocky tease to his smile.

“Man, who ever thought Spazway had it in him,” Jesse said, but they were all smiling with pride. Charlie was their friend, their leader, and there was no jealousy or resentment. They were genuinely proud for how far he went.

“He is rather debonair,” Connie said, “too bad he’s like a little brother to me, I would have thought I went for the wrong Duck.”

"Hey!" Guy protested.

“You all were really close then?” Steph asked.

Connie laughed, “Oh yeah, we’re all family, and Charlie was our Captain.”

“He was a schmaltzy guy, but a good one,” Averman said, “he always knew what to do. It's fitting that he's the most successful. He is the best of us.”

“Except freshman year,” Fulton said.

“Teenage rebellion,” Guy said.

“So Steph,” Averman said leaning across Guy and Connie to address her directly, “We were all close, but if you want to talk about who was really close with Charlie, you should talk to your officemate there.”

Adam sunk into his chair and Steph turned to him in a sort of disbelief.

“I thought he was a friend of theirs” she said and thankfully only Connie seemed to pick up on Steph's accusation.

“We were,” Adam said, “we’re just not…”

“They haven’t really stayed in touch,” Connie cut in, but she shot Adam a knowing look.

“I see,” Steph said, “that’s too bad, you guys were really close then?”

“They were,” Averman goaded, and this time Guy jabbed him to stop.

Adam could only nod. No one else said anything else on the subject as the game began and their attention was directed at the events unfolding on the rink. Adam did mostly watch the game, clocking the plays and noting the movement, but his gaze always seemed to make its way to Charlie behind the bench. Compared to the visiting coach, Charlie never seemed flustered, he was cool and direct and at times surprisingly relaxed. He was, Adam reflected, the perfect combination of Bombay and Orion. Serious and disciplined when needed, but creative and enthusiastic as well. Adam found it fascinating and it wasn’t just because it was Charlie, though that was most of it. He’d never really thought about coaching and watching Charlie, Adam realized that he just really missed the competitiveness of something.

Midway through the third period a major penalty was called on the visiting team and Adam watched Charlie whisper something in a player’s ear before he headed out to take a shot. And it was in that moment that Adam was taken back, the memory coming in full force.

Ten years earlier

There was only about a minute left in the Duck's timeout as Adam braced himself for the pending penalty shot. The game was tied, and there was barely time left in overtime. This shot would be the best shot for the Ducks to win the game. Usually, Adam would have relished the challenge—he was built for the pressure—but he’d been off the whole game and for whatever reason the opposing team’s goalie had gotten into his head.

“You got this.”

Adam turned to see Charlie skate over to him, helmet off.

“I don’t know, the guy’s been saving everything I’ve got,” Adam said, "Why is now any different?"

“He’s due,” Charlie said confidently and gripped Adam’s shoulder firmly pulling him close, their foreheads touching and for a moment Adam forgot about the shot, the goalie, the game, the rest of the team, the crowds in the stands cheering. There was only him and Charlie, and Adam’s heart calmed almost instantly. Charlie had always made him feel like that, strong and invincible and safe.

“You’ve got this,” Charlie said again, “just be Adam and things will be fine.”

Adam nodded. The whistle was blown to resume play and Adam backed away and went to take the shot.

“Adam!”

He turned to see Charlie there outside the bench. He’d said his name, not Banks or Banksy as usual, but Adam as he always did when they were alone even though in that instant they were anything but.

“No matter what,” Charlie said and then silently he mouthed the words that they’d been avoiding for weeks, months and maybe even years, and Adam realized that whatever came next really didn’t matter. He’d won anyways, the shape and movement of Charlie’s mouth, all the reassurance that he needed.

“I love you.”

The air became heavy around Adam, as he suddenly found it hard to breath or speak say anything, so paralyzed by the memory and the weight of it. He struggled to his feet and scrambled out of the row and back into the hallway of the arena and bolted straight to the nearest bathroom. He splashed cold water across his face, trying to will away the anxiety and the pain and calm the rushing beat of his heart.

It was too much. Too much.

A part of him wanted to just leave right there, but he knew that would cause a bigger commotion than he’d want, also it wasn’t like he drove here. And there was Steph to think about, he’d invited her, it would be bad if he bailed before he allowed her to do what she came here for.

He just had to get through the evening. They’d introduce Steph to Charlie and then Adam could go. Go back to pretend that a little part of him wasn’t dying every day he was back in Minnesota and him and Charlie weren’t on speaking terms.

But it was more than that, Adam knew. Watching Charlie out there, it was like Adam was seeing him again for the first time and—falling again for the first time. He could still feel Charlie, read every move. What was between them was still there, but only worse, because Adam knew that nothing would ever come of it. Ten years ago it hadn't been one-sided, but now Adam was sure it was.

Adam had never hated himself more.

He eventually calmed down enough to return to his seat to witness the rest of the game. They won, which per Connie, meant that they had pretty much secured their seat in the playoffs which meant everyone was in a good mood. Charlie would be in a good mood too, that would make things easy for Steph.

They had to wait awhile at the public exit to the locker room area for Charlie and the team to go through post-game interviews and press conferences. Most of the adjoining crowd was waiting for the players, and so Charlie was able to make his way out to them with little interruption.

“What a game Conway,” Jesse said, “that was excellent.”

“All credit goes to them actually,” Charlie said pointing his thumb back at his players signing autographs for fans, “I just show up and take everyone’s time cards basically. A glorified middle manager.”

Adam hung back from the group, he watched Steph observe the interactions and he wondered what they all looked like from the outside. It had been so long since he knew what it was like, that he imagined that they must look a bit odd to people. It was normal for friends to drift and change over time, but not the Ducks. They were eternal, even when he and Charlie were not.

Charlie finally turned to him and Steph and for a moment they just stared at each other, not really out of spite or discord, but rather a slight awkwardness in that they really didn’t know what to do with the other anymore. Charlie made the first move as per usual and turned to Steph.

“So I’m Charlie Conway,” he said and held out his hand.

“Oh I know who you are,” Steph said and there was no missing the lilt in her voice. She was attracted, Adam knew, and he suddenly realized there was probably another reason that inviting Steph to the game was a bad idea.

“So you are who exactly? I am sorry that I can’t say the same about you,” There was no irritation or accusation in tone, he was genuinely interested. Because of course he was. For all that they had grown, Adam thought, Charlie would always be Charlie, earnest and open and kind.

“I’m Stephanie Michaels. People call me Steph. I work with Adam.”

Charlie briefly glanced at Adam, probably wondering why Adam would bring a co-worker (especially a female one) here, but then went right back to Steph.

“So you’re a lawyer,” Charlie said.

“Oh no! I’ve worked with enough lawyers to know to never go to law school,” she said.

“Smart,” Adam muttered under his breath for no one but him to hear, but Charlie heard it because he shot him a sideways glance, one that made it clear to Adam his unspoken judgment. It was probably deserved.

Charlie and Steph went back to talking, and Adam tried to find an opportunity to leave, but he waited for the cue that Steph was going to ask Charlie about the clinic as once that was done, he knew he would be free and clear.

“So I never realized that you and Adam used to play together,” Steph said.

“Oh you didn’t?” Charlie asked, “We did, for years. He was really good.”

It was an impersonal, vague compliment, Adam knew better than to read anymore into it.

“Oh yeah, he's never really mentioned it Adam doesn’t talk a lot, and I always forget that he grew up around here,” she said, and Charlie is staring at him again, his expression unreadable even to Adam in that moment, though Adam was a bit annoyed that once again everyone was acting like he wasn't there.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Charlie said, and Adam knew there had to be at least a bit of resentment in his voice. Adam knew what he had to be thinking, that Adam wanted to forget Minnesota, forget him.

Adam only wished that could be true.

“Adam can’t forget if he tried,” Averman blurted out, unknowingly breaking the tension that had built up between Charlie and Adam, “I mean we’re the Ducks! We’re World Champions!”

Steph laughed.

“Actually that gives me a great idea,” she said, turning back to Charlie, “the firm hosts a charity event every year, and I was planning on doing a sort of hockey clinic for underprivileged youth. But I was going to ask if you wanted to lead it, you know let the kids be coached by a real pro, but maybe all of you should be a part of it. Make it a whole reunion thing.”

Charlie turned to the rest of the group who quickly made excuses.

“Just get Charlie,” Jesse said, “he represents us in everything anyways.”

“Hey, I shouldn’t have to do all the work,” Charlie said.

“I mean you have Adam as well,” Connie said, and Adam could kill her. He had no intention of being involved with the event, he’d just brought Steph here as a favor, and Connie knew what she was doing. She probably thought she could fuel a reconciliation.

“Oh that’s right,” Steph said looking back and forth from Adam to Charlie. Charlie for his part said nothing.

“So will you do it?” Steph said, “I have some freedom with the date as long as it occurs over the next couple of months so the season will be over.”

Charlie nodded.

“For the kids,” he said and he stared at Adam, almost daring him to say something. Adam didn’t.

Steph squealed in delight which caused Charlie to laugh and then the whole group launched into an assortment of banter and jeers. Adam began to slip away. It was done.

He turned to go out when he heard a voice come up from behind.

“Hey Banksy, wait!”

Adam turned to see Jesse running towards him.

“What is it?” Adam asked.

Jesse shook his head.

“Where you going man, we were going to get a drink or something,” Jesse said.

“Just go, I’m tired, I have work tomorrow,” Adam said.

“Dude, we all have work tomorrow,” Jesse said.

“I just…I just can’t, sorry,” Adam said again and turned to walk away.

“Adam,” Jesse’s voice was definitive, and where his tone had been light and teasing when he’d first approached, it was serious now.

“What?” Adam asked.

“I know,” Jesse said.

Adam debated whether he thought Jesse was bluffing, or if he was referencing something else. Jesse must have taken Adam’s silence for Adam not knowing what he was talking about because he pushed it further.

“About you and Charlie, I know.”

“Then you know it’s over,” Adam said, he was tired and he didn’t want to spend to much time hashing it out.

“So that’s it, you’re not friends anymore?” Jesse asked, “You guys aren’t going to talk?”

“What’s there to talk about?” Adam asked, “I ended it and he hates me for it.”

Jesse just stared at him.

“He doesn’t hate you Adam.”

“Yeah he does,” Adam said, and for the second time that night, he hates himself and had he been alone he wouldn’t have held back the tears.

Jesse doesn’t give a rebuttal so Adam just left him there and walked out the door. The night was breezy but not too cold, and Adam just stared into the distance. He pulled out his phone to call a cab and cursed when he realized the battery was dead.

Nice going Adam, he thought, now he was stuck at a parking lot waiting for--Well who knew what he was waiting for. A sign, a miracle, a random cab.

“Hey man, where’d you go off to?”

Adam turned to see Guy and Connie coming from behind, the rest of the group was further behind, and he saw Charlie still chatting with Steph and looked away.

“Just needed some air,” Adam said.

Guy gave him a reassuring pat and Adam followed them back to the car. No one said anything until they were well on their way home and Connie looked back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

Adam looked at her.

“Not really,” he said and looked out the window, the whole of Minneapolis looked as dreary as he felt.

Adam’s life settled into a dreary sort of monotony after that. He passed the bar as expected and moved out of the office with Steph to a smaller one two doors down. Which was a mercy, because apparently Steph and Charlie had really hit it off, though Adam wasn’t sure he was able to tell if it was a serious thing or not. Not that he wanted to know, it was probably better if he didn’t. He knew Charlie was still into women and Steph was nice and he deserved to move on even if Adam couldn’t. Though a part of him wished that in retrospect that Charlie had gone through this whole moving-on thing before he’d come back so he didn’t have to witness it. He didn’t want to witness it. Having to watch Charlie fall in love with someone else would be absolute torture. Like a cherry made of spikes on Adam’s already miserable year.

His work was not great, even with the promotion. It was mostly civil defense work, and most of the clients were local companies in labor or contract disputes and Adam felt the toll of the greed weigh on him. This work didn’t matter, he didn’t matter.

A huge multi-million dollar lawsuit came with regards to an agricultural company and a small rural town’s water supply. Apparently the town had suffered a serious uptick in rare cancers, particularly in small children and the elderly. Adam’s firm represented the company and the whole of the case was trying to gather enough contradictory evidence to cast doubt that it was the pesticides that lead to the ill health effects. Adam was pretty low rung, mostly handling the legal research and most basic of law tasks but he was involved enough to feel guilt about it..

Charlie, he thought, was doing a bit better than he was. Minnesota made it to the second round of the playoffs, and forced it to seven games before finally losing it in a tight game where they almost succeeded in coming back from a three goal deficit. It was better than anyone had expected, and soon the local news and publications were soon publishing the announcement of Minnesota extending Charlie’s contract for another three years. Everyone was a buzz about it. Including of all people, Adam’s parents.

Adam didn’t realize this until he had occasion to be attending a formal dinner party that his parents were having for associates, clients (both current and prospective) and really it was for anyone who was anyone in the area. Adam had arrived early to help his mother set up (“You are a third host in a way,” his father had said strictly, implying that Adam’s assistance was not so much appreciated as it was required) and his mother brought Charlie up.

“Oh we invited that friend of yours,” his mother said as she was directing the caterers to where they were setting up. Adam was folding napkins and looked up at her quizzically.

"What friend?"

“The hockey coach,” she said, “weren’t the two of you close?”

She had to be kidding, Adam’s mother knew very well how close Adam and Charlie were.

“We were,” Adam said, “you could even say we were closer than friends.”

His voice was pointed, but she either didn’t pick up on it or ignored because she went right along as if nothing was amiss.

“Well anyways, he’s the talk of the town apparently,” she said, “You know the hockey team hasn’t been good in so long.”

“Well we didn’t have a hockey team for seven years,” Adam said under his breath but just smiled when his mother turned and asked him if he said anything.

“Yeah, the team is good,” Adam said, “Charlie knows what he’s doing.”

Adam paused for a moment there. His mother had said he was invited but not that he was coming.

“Did he accept?” Adam asked.

“What was that, dear?”

“Is he coming?” Adam clarified.

“Oh right, let me see,” his mother consulted a sheet of paper on a clipboard by the table.

“Oh yes he is,” his mother said, “we’re seating him next to the partner of your father’s firm, but I can switch him to be closer to you if you would like.”

“No that would be unnecessary,” Adam said, fussing with the napkin in his hand.

He tried not to think about it, Charlie being here. When they’d been together back in high school Adam had only brought Charlie over once. Nothing had happened, but Adam was so self-conscious of the presence of his parents that they hadn’t stayed long. At the time it had been a constant worry that they would say something rude or mean-spirited about Charlie and his background. He supposed now that things were different. It was funny how circumstances had changed.

Charlie was neither later or early, but Adam was immediately focused on the door when he walked in. He was alone, and for a moment Adam was relieved. Charlie had to this point denied that him and Steph were a couple, but Adam knew through Connie that he had taken her out a few times so Adam wasn’t sure.

Adam didn’t greet him, but he watched his father greet Charlie at the door and introduce him to his boss. Charlie was stiff, and Adam knew that he must be remembering the last time he had been in the same room with his father. It had not been a pleasant experience.

When Charlie did acknowledge him, it was a short curt greeting. It wasn’t a cold greeting though, and for once Adam knew it was more due to the setting than Adam in particular.

“Congratulations on the extension,” Adam said finally.

“Oh it’s nothing,” Charlie said, “I mean it’s always good to still have a job.”

“Yeah, but you love your job,” Adam said.

“And you don’t?” Charlie asked.

“I—“

“Adam!” his father approached them with his boss, Charlie shrank back though he didn’t leave entirely, “You remember Mr. Bill Spurnik, he’s a client.”

Adam shook the older man next to his father’s hand.

“You’re at Sutton & Fisher, right?” Mr. Spurnik said.

“Yeah,” Adam said.

“Adam’s a damn good lawyer,” his father crowed, it was a funny sentiment, it wasn’t as if Adam had been practicing that long and it wasn’t like he’d had any major accomplishments in his career.

“You’re working on the Seville case right?” Mr Spurnik said, “how’s it going.”

“Can’t really discuss it, attorney-client privilege,” Adam said.

“Man, people are too quick to sue these days, always looking for a quick buck,” Mr. Spurnick said and Adam’s father agreed.

“What’s the Seville case,” Charlie said, and they all turned to him.

“A bunch of hicks are saying a company is responsible for their kid’s cancer,” Mr. Spurnik, “The case sounds pretty spurious if you ask me.”

“And Adam’s firm represents?”

“The company,” Adam said and Charlie looked at him for a moment, and feeling of guilt rose within him.

“I see,” Charlie said and didn’t say anything else, however every now again through dinner Adam would find Charlie glancing at him and Adam knew how Charlie was judging the way Adam was here, in this setting. In his house.

Shame seeped through Adam. How he could be brave and stand up for himself everywhere, but here, here he sank into himself. He knew Charlie could see that. God, he wanted to tell Charlie he was sorry. Sorry that he couldn’t be braver, stronger, more sure of himself. Maybe if he was, things would have been different.

The conversation over the meal was very formal, Charlie mostly answered questions about the team, but he was reserved, not overly enthusiastic. Adam could tell that Charlie had no respect for anyone here.

And I’m one of them, he thought.

“You know Adam was on track to be one of the greats in hockey,” his father was saying, bringing Adam’s attention back to the conversation at the table, the one between his father and one of his colleagues..

“It was really too bad,” his father was saying, “He could have been one of the greats.”

Adam took a gulp of the wine.

“It was such a pity,” his father said, “It’ll take him years now, if ever.”

Adam looked down. He wanted to say that it wasn’t over, he was fine. He didn’t need to be great, but his father’s apparent lack of faith that Adam would ever amount to anything other than maybe partner at a middling regional firm was a deflating thought.

It bothered Adam enough that he confronted his father about it later.

“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” his father said.

Adam was quiet for a moment.

“I’m doing fine,” he said.

“Are you?” Phillip Banks roared, “you’re barely an associate at that firm, you’re not married. Look at John, he was promoted last week! And has another child on the way.”

“I am not John,” Adam said.

“You most certainly are not,” his father said.

And that was enough to send Adam to the backyard for air and away from the stifling sense of failure that lay inside.

“I can’t believe you still let him talk to you like that,” Adam heard from the doorway and turned to see Charlie leaning against the column.

“Talk to me like what?” Adam asked, he wasn’t really in the mood to deal with the weight of talking with Charlie right now. Charlie didn’t answer right away, rather he came up to stand next Adam, and gaze at the stars in the night sky.

“Like he has the right to dictate your life,” Charlie said.

“He doesn’t dictate my life,” Adam said, but it was a half-hearted protest

“Doesn’t he?” Charlie asked, “How did you get your job then?”

It was an easy hit and Adam had no response, he just gave the simple phrase.

“You don’t understand,” he said, and Adam felt weak.

“Well make me understand,” Charlie said, “Because they treat you like shit. What, just because you can’t play hockey anymore you’re what—“

“Stop!” Adam shouted, a bit louder than he really intended, “Stop talking like you know me.”

Charlie just stared at him, and all the guilt that Adam felt for years with regards to Charlie welled up in his chest.

“I do,” Charlie said, “I know you’re better than this.”

“Am I?” Adam blurted out, “How can you say that.”

Charlie shook his head and cursed under his breath.

“Because I’ve seen you Adam. You’re better than this. Working where you do, hating your job. Adam you walked into a room of kids who you knew hated you at age eleven and yet still played your heart out. You stood up to Portman to defend Julie, hell you stood up to me when I was being such an ass freshman year.”

“That was then,” Adam said, “You don’t know me now.”

“And whose fault is that?” Charlie asked.

Adam was a bit taken aback at that and looked out over the yard.

“It’s mine,” he said, turning back to Charlie who this time seemed to take a step back at that, not expecting Adam to own up to it.

“Adam.”

“Just let me be,” Adam said, “It’s over.”

Charlie said nothing, and Adam trying to hold himself together so as to not completely give himself away and become even more pathetic, passed him on his way back into the house. He didn’t look back, he couldn’t. Once the door shut behind him, he retreated to his room for a moment. His room was no place of comfort however, just full of memories of what once was, and what would never be again. He sat on the bed and pulled out the photo that he’d slipped into his wallet after he’d first come back to Minnesota and just stared at the image of their smiling faces. How happy they had been. How in love he was. And still was, truth be told. Adam knew that with that conversation out there, the hope that it would ever be mutual again was lost.

And whose fault was that?

It was his, always his. He made his way back downstairs. Most of his father’s guests were still there but Charlie was nowhere to be seen. His father came to him asking him where Charlie went but Adam just shrugged. His father made a snide comment about how that was rather rude, but Adam didn’t share in with his father’s misery.

“I don’t think he cares for you,” Adam said.

“And what do you mean by that?”

“Nothing,” Adam said, and he doesn’t push the issue any further. He doesn’t stay long after the party is over and he took the long way back home from his parents, cranking up the classic rock station, trying to force the memory of the nights out.

For the first time since he’d joined the Ducks, back when he was eleven. Adam felt truly alone.

Adam did his best to avoid Charlie for the entirety of the week following his parent’s dinner party, which was really more effort than he put in before. He turned Connie and Guy down as much as he could without tipping them off that something was wrong. But he couldn’t turn them down for long, and so it wasn’t long until he was over there and as it was the offseason, Charlie was there more often than not.

The first time, Adam was nervous, but it wasn’t almost as if the confrontation at his parent’s house had broken the dam, because Charlie didn’t really act like anything had happened. Charlie acted almost as if—as if there was nothing of contention between them at all.

Well not really, it was the little things. He’d respond to comments Adam made or ask for his opinion. It was almost like…Adam didn’t want to jinx it, but it was almost as if they were actually friends. Of course it was different from their friendship years past, but there was a restored comfort. Adam wasn’t going to count his new luck, but he would take what he could get. If Charlie wasn’t going to cast him out of his life, then that was good enough for Adam.

Of course there were the jibes to Charlie about Steph, but Charlie had brushed them off. They were just working on the clinic, it was strictly professional was the gist of Charlie’s answer whenever anyone asked. Adam tried to not seem too interested in these conversations, would just match the appropriate reactions to keep everyone from noticing how every time the subject came up, Adam died a little inside. A part of him wished Charlie had followed most of the rest of the Ducks leads and found someone and getting married prior to Adam even coming back.

The hockey clinic would be the real test. Per Steph, there was already an expectation that he and Charlie would work together given their history, or rather the history as the public knew it. Although given their interactions since the dinner party, Adam wasn’t as worried as he would have been if the clinic had occurred prior. Really, it was the state of his knee that was the real unknown variable. He’d skated a few times since the injury eight years prior, but never for extended amounts of time and never while attempting any hockey related exercises.

It should be fine though, it wasn’t like he was going to actually play, he just needed to exercise a bit more, warm it up, keep an ice pack on hand just in case.

He did go to the ice rink closest to his house the weekend before the clinic, just to test it out and see how long he would be able to last and not completely embarrass himself. He went early and was only one when the rink opened. The lone employee, a dark dressed teenager who Adam guessed hadn’t seen the midday sun since fifth grade, seemed incredibly put out by Adam obviously disrupting his usual downtime. It had been years since Adam had to use borrowed skates, but his pair was still in of the few unpacked boxes at his apartment, so he had to make do with the rentals for now.

The rink was small but Adam had it all to himself , so it didn’t really matter. Once he’d become stable and sure of himself, he just glided across the ice, charting the grooves. He closed his eyes and let the memories flow back through him. A time that really wasn’t all that long ago, but felt millions of years away from where Adam is now.

He could almost hear them. Averman by the benching offering irreverent commentary, Goldberg shouting excuses, Portman and Fulton beating against the barriers and Charlie…

Adam could almost see him, shooting Adam a bemused look at the rest of the team’s antics, and it was in those moments that all was right in the world. Adam missed it. He missed it so much.

It was a successful outing, and Adam’s knee held up surprisingly well. He would be fine.

Adam made his way into the rink, he’d gone with Steph early to help set up. They’d recruited an assortment of volunteers from friends and family of employees of the firm, and apparently Charlie had asked some of his assistant staffers to come along (Adam knew there had been a talk about having a player or too, but that had apparently been abandoned when they decided to play up the Duck connection between Adam and Charlie).

The rink was just like he remembered it as a kid, it had only undergone slight refurbishments over the intervening years, but the pennants noting the various winners of the Peewee Championship over the years. Adam smiled reflexively when he saw the marker for ’92. The first year. The beginning.

“Man, I can’t believe they still have that.”

Adam turned to see Charlie coming up behind him. His tone casual and so easy going that Adam forgot to tense up at his arrival. He looked good, a white sweatshirt over a perfectly fitted green Minnesota Wild T-Shirt and jeans, a large duffel with gear strung over his shoulder. Adam’s own bag was smaller, only holding the skates he’d dug out a few days ago. He’d had them sharpened the day before.

“I think it’s nice,” Adam said, “it was a good year.”

Charlie smiled, not as wide or open an expression as usual, but it was a knowing smile, a private moment with private memories of a time that was simpler and easier. Adam wondered whether Charlie thought that Adam didn’t remember or notice things like that. But Adam, had been thinking about the first season (or rather part of a first season) a lot over the past week. There was some guilt from his time with the Hawks, but he remembered they’d forgiven. He remembered when Charlie offered his hand.

God, thank the gods for halfhearted peewee hockey district gerrymandering.

“Your knee gonna be okay?” Charlie asked, directing the focus back to the present and the event at hand.

“Yeah I think so,” Adam said, “I mean how old the kids.”

“I think they’re anywhere from seven to ten,” Charlie said, “a little younger than we were.”

Adam nodded and just being included in Charlie’s “we” was enough to send a soft flutter through him.

“Yeah, it should be fun,” Adam said.

“Kids are great,” Charlie said and then turned to start to say something else when Steph, along with another volunteer came up to them to give them the materials they would need for the day.

The next couple of hours were almost a blur. Getting geared up, helping the kids get everything on.

“Why do we have to wear the stuff?” a small boy, who per the clumsy scrawl on his name-tag, was named Jamie.

“It’s so you don’t lose any teeth, numb nuts?” another kid said and Adam and another volunteer had to physically hold back the two boys from going at each other’s throats.

Over the plethora of flailing limbs and yelling kids, Adam noted Charlie smirked at him and Adam returned it. This group slovenly kids were not unlike a similar group almost two decades prior. Loud, disorganized, but wild. If just being of the ice had Adam imagining the Ducks, the group of kids in front of him were practically replaying scenes that Adam used to witness over a hundred times.

Everyone ushered the kids out to the rink, some of them still struggling to fit on pads and pull on the free t-shirts that were given to them. They let the kids skate around freely on the rink for a bit, cameras from local media flashing to write and broadcast the assorted fluff pieces.

It was Steph who officially started things off by going through the carefully crafted statement. She mentioned the firm, thanked everyone for coming and introduced Charlie. Charlie for his part spoke directly to the kids who looked at him in awe. Charlie talked about how he used to be the down to luck kid and the story of the Minnesota Miracle of ’92. He gestured to Adam who just smiled. And then when the kids began getting restless again, Charlie blew, not on a whistle, the duck call and they officially started.

Charlie ran through a few traditional drills, skating through cones, practice face offs, an around-the-world shooting game where they had kids have to try to make shots from different angles and the first kid who completed every shot won.

But there were more outside-the-box ideas as well that Adam knew Charlie had gotten from Bombay. The shooting of eggs (though they used plastic as opposed to real eggs) to teach the kids to learn precision and control, he tied them together to teach them to skate as a team. Charlie even had the kids play a sort of tag where the kid who was “it” would attempt to hit a kid with a hacky sack.

Adam helped where he could, and there were plenty of opportunities to keep kids on track with the task at hand. It was during the “tag” game that Adam notice a small, curly haired boy with glasses sort of drifting to the side. Adam had noted him before. He was quiet and he hadn’t done particularly well through any of the sets.

He glided over to the boy and guided him to the bench to talk, away from the rest of the kids still embroiled in the game.

“You okay—?” Adam asked, leaving a decided pause to allow the boy to introduced himself.

The boy didn’t answer, and his name tag had already been scratched off over the course of the event. He just shook his head.

“What’s your name?” Adam asked, doing his best to try to come off as not intimidating at all. He hadn’t had the occasion to interact that much with children since he himself was one, but he was running on instinct.

“It’s Ben,” the boy said, “and I hate hockey.”

Adam thought for a moment on what tack he should make.

“So why are you here, Ben?” Adam asked.

“My dad made me,” Ben said, “he says I need to do more sports. He says I spend too much time in my room.”

Adam nodded, he may not understand the anti-hockey sentiment, but he understood parental pressure all too well.

“Well I’m Adam,” he said, “and my dad also made me do a lot of stuff that I didn’t want to do.”

Ben just stared at Adam, not really believing him.

“But you know what I did,” Adam said, “I would make it my own. I would find one reason for me to do it. You know make it my own. So for instance, I’m sure there’s a friend out there who you could spend time with.”

Ben shook his head.

“I don’t have any friends.”

Adam smiled.

“Yeah you do,” he said, “you have me. I’m your friend.”

Ben stared at him.

“Well, it doesn’t matter, I suck,” Ben said, “even if I liked it, I can’t do it.”

“Well that’s why we practice, and that’s why I’m here.”

“I can’t even skate, if I go any faster than I’ll slip and fall, and if people are staring at me….”

Adam held back a laugh.

“Oh is that all,” Adam said, “well let me tell you. You see Coach Conway out there.”

Adam pointed to Charlie and waited for Ben to nod.

“When he was a little older than you, he would always slip and fall during big moments too,” Adam said, “In fact everyone used to say he was the worst player on the team.”

“He did? He was?” Ben asked.

“Uh huh,” Adam nodded, “but he always got back up, and you know what he was by the end.”

“No what?” Ben asked.

Adam’s smiled.

“At the end, he was the best,” Adam said, “You don’t need to like hockey, we’re here to have fun, so what do you say? You want to join me back out there?”

Ben smiled and nodded.

“Okay Coach.”

Ben skated out but then stopped and looked back Adam.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Adam asked.

“What did you become?”

Adam looked at Ben and then to Charlie and then back to Ben.

“I became a Duck.”

The clinic went on and ended with an informal scrimmage between the kids. Ben did much better after the pep talk and Adam even caught him smiling after a few rounds. He shot him a thumbs up and Ben shot one right back.

“You’re good with kids,” Charlie said from behind him, Adam turned and shrugged.

“I do better with the quiet ones, I mean I was quiet as well,” Adam said.

“You weren’t that quiet,” Charlie said.

“You weren’t that loud.”

Charlie laughed, a true honest to god laugh and Adam couldn’t help but join him. It wasn’t exactly the same as they used to be, but Adam felt a twinge of hope. Not for a rekindling of any feelings or anything like that, but maybe, just maybe they could be true friends again, and not just two people with an overlapping friends group and shared history.

When the kids tired, Charlie brought them in for one last pep talk before sending them home, when Jamie, the loudest of the bunch (“That kid is Jesse,” Charlie had commented to Adam earlier) spoke up.

“We wanna see you play, Coach,” Jamie yelled and all the kids nodded in agreement.

“You want to see me play?” Charlie asked, incredulously, “I mean I don’t know if we have time—“

Charlie looked to Steph who nodded that they did indeed have time. Things had gone pretty smoothly, and Steph had billed in enough time with the rink to cover any possible delays or hiccups.

“Who should I play?” Charlie asked.

It was then that several pairs of eyes turned to Adam and it was very clear what the answer to that question was.

“Well, umm I mean,” Charlie stammered and Adam knew that Charlie was thinking about his knee.

“It’s fine,” Adam spoke up, “I can play.”

Charlie stared at him shocked, but Adam’s voice and posture were firm enough that he didn’t push it. However, when the kids shuffled to the side he skated over to Adam and asked quietly, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, just don’t check or push me into the wall,” Adam said.

Charlie nodded and patted him on the back, “You get the puck first, I’ll defend. Do it like old times, first the three bars?”

“Yep,” Adam said.

They took their positions out on the ice, and the kids cheered from the sidelines. Adam took a deep breath. The stick in his hand, it was like riding a bike, it may have been awhile but Adam knew what to do, feel it as an extension of himself. He guided the puck forward, his eyes straight ahead and locked on Charlie who was mimicking every move.

Charlie was giving Adam the ‘kiddie gloves’ treatment, because Adam easily pushed the puck between his legs and Adam was able to slip by and take the first shot, an easy hit to the right goalpost.

“Nice shot,” Charlie said.

“You let me have it,” Adam said.

“Well, got build your confidence up, let this be some kind of match,” Charlie said.

“Thanks, but that won’t be necessary,” Adam said as he gathered the puck and passed it to Charlie to take his turn.

They almost lost track of everyone else that was there, it was just the two of them, Adam and Charlie, Charlie and Adam, on the ice. They did this all the time back in high school. Some couples did dinner and a movie, they just played hockey. It was this nostalgia that lead them both to forget the limitations of Adam’s knee. They were tied two points each, Charlie had to hit the cross bar and Adam needed to hit the left post. Charlie had the puck having Adam just missed the post by two inches, and Adam’s competitiveness streak was in full force.

They were locked together against the wall, both struggling to get the puck back out to center ice. Adam was finally push it back out freely, however the problem was that their sticks were so entangled and both so focused on getting to the puck that Adam’s skate hooked on Charlies and he ended up skittering away, his ankle just barely escaping being twisted.

However this lead him to stumble across the ice and his skate hit a patch in the ice sending him down, and his knee hit the ice…hard. Adam didn’t feel any pain at first, still focused on the puck stopped just a few feet away, but all of a sudden the sounds of the others in the arena, Charlie most all, hit him. When he moved to pull himself back up, his knee felt like a giant rock was on top of it and he grimaced.

“Adam,” Charlie asked, his voice desperate even in that one tiny syllable, “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I was so….”

“I’m fine,” Adam said, even though by any definition he was not fine, “my knee. I can’t get up.”

It was a blur and Adam was mostly focused on the pain at this point, but he felt himself lifted up, one arm was wrapped around Charlie’s shoulder, Charlie’s weight supporting him as he got him up to at least stand on one leg, his bad knee bent up. If Adam hadn’t been in pain, he would have been acutely aware of how close they were in that moment. The fact that he could actually feel Charlie’s breath, but the pain was too great.

“It’s okay, I got you,” Charlie said, as he slowly guided Adam towards the sidelines. Steph and one of the trainers Charlie had recruited to help with the event helped get Adam off the ice and onto the bench.

“Let me take a look at that,” the trainer, Ned, said, bending down under his knee.

Steph gave Adam a worried shot, but soon had to go and dismiss kids with the parents. This was not the best ending to the day’s events, they were just lucky that the press had left shortly after the whole thing had begun.

“It’s my fault,” Charlie said, “I forgot….”

“It’s not your fault,” Adam said, “don’t worry about it.”

That did nothing to reassure Charlie, who just stared down, his face positively distraught. Adam could almost be touched, but he focused on listening to what Ned was telling him.

“I don’t think there’s been any real damage, it just looks bruised.”

“Are you a doctor?” Adam asked.

“No, but I was an EMT for years, you’ll probably want to see one, but I think you’ll be okay, just a little sore.”

Adam nodded.

“It’s an old injury,” Adam said, “I barely have any cartilage around there.”

“So you were testing fate out there,” Ned said, his tone lighter which made Adam feel slightly better and pay less attention to the pain of the knee.

“Well it’s been eight years since it happened,” Adam said, “I thought maybe I was miraculously cured or something.”

Ned laughed and Adam smiled. Adam found that he was somewhat charmed by Ned’s attention. He wasn’t not bad looking, and he very much did fit into a type that Adam knew he was attracted too. Adam just allowed himself the pleasant feeling of being attracted to someone and knowing they were attracted back. Ned had Adam lean on his shoulder while he tried to stretch out the knee a bit to relieve the tension. It seemed to help as Adam felt his leg grow a bit steadier.

“Thanks,” Adam said.

“Any time man,” Ned said, “despite how it ended you looked good out there.”

There was something in his tone that Adam recognized. The sort of tone that denoted that there was a hint of interest. Adam couldn’t really say if he felt the same way, but he did get a little bit of an ego boost for it. It had been awhile.

Finally, he was able to stand up and put some amount of weight on his knee. It was then that he looked up and remembered that Charlie was still there. He was staring at him strangely with a look that Adam couldn’t place.

“I’m okay,” Adam said, thinking maybe that Charlie still felt bad.

“Are you?” Charlie asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, don’t worry, you didn’t kill me,” Adam said, trying to make a joke of it.

“Don’t joke,” Charlie said.

“Listen,” Ned cut in, “I can help him to his car. There’s nothing left to be done.”

Adam agreed.

“You can go,” Adam said, “I’ll be fine.”

Charlie didn’t look convinced and there was something else but Adam didn’t push it.

“Well if Adam says so,” Charlie said.

“I do,” Adam said, “I’m fine. Go.”

Charlie reluctantly backed away, said good-bye and left. Adam watched him go before turning back to Ned.

“You’re lucky to have a friend like that,” Ned said as he escorted Adam to his car, “I’ve never seen a guy get to someone that fast.”

“Yeah,” Adam said, he didn’t tell Ned that he was a fool to waste that, instead going back to what had transpired earlier.

“So I should be okay.”

Ned nodded and then pulled a card out of his pocket.

“Just let me know,” Ned said.

Adam took the card and then back at Ned who winked before leaving Adam at his car, and Adam smiled to himself when he saw the handwriting on the back of the card, a simple ‘Call Me’ message. So Adam hadn’t been wrong about Ned’s intentions. He was interested. Adam couldn’t help but feel a bit proud and satisfied with the attention

And between that and the memory of Charlie’s expression, Adam felt as if somehow, the world felt new, like everything was suddenly clean and blank.

A start. A start of what, Adam had yet to find out.

Most of Adam’s hopes and optimism in the wake of the hockey clinic were mostly tempered by things at work. The Seville case was heating up, and for whatever reason the client was not willing to settle. Adam was given more hours on the case and the more that he looked through the evidence the less confident Adam was in his client’s position. Things really began to go downhill because Adam found there were a chain of missing documents. Documents he knew existed, recording safety studies and compliance procedures that he reviewed one week but then would be missing, not even scanned into the system the next.

There was also the pressure, not explicitly stated for Adam to tow the party line. There was no room to critique or question the firm’s strategy. Adam didn’t understand why the firm was not looking to settle the case to lessen unnecessary fees and costs. When they received Defendant’s discovery and the firm wanted to instantly go for a motion for protective order, Adam didn’t immediately understand why. There was no legal basis to withhold the documents from the other side, though Adam knew they would try to claim trade secrets.. Adam made the mistake of giving his thoughts on the matter, which lead to a stern talking down from one of the partners and an awful phone call with his father when he got home from work.

Of course Adam was a lowly associate, so his influence was pretty much zilch, and work was getting to the point that Steph was the only one who was talking to him. It one of the more depressing moments, Adam found himself sifting through the want ads online. He knew the job market was crap, and honestly any similar firm was likely to be just as bad. He thumbed through the local journals that he received as a member of the local professional organization and it was here that he stumbled upon an article by Angela Marcus from the Minneapolis Legal Aid Society.

He read about the work they did and the idea began to gel in his head. His father would kill him. There was no hope for fame or fortune working as a public defender. That was for the bleeding hearts at the University of Minneapolis not the son of blue bloods from Edina. But it wouldn’t leave alone. The thought of actually fighting for something good, actually helping people, it excited him. Plus, he was a Duck, that had always given him a particular affinity to the underdogs..

So Adam applied for it, and moved on with his work..

The only other good thing that came of Adam’s tempestuous time at work was the fact that he learned that whatever was going on between Charlie and Steph was over because Steph was constantly buzzing about a guy named Dave that she’d met at a single’s event. They were apparently completely in love and Dave could be “The One.” Adam tried to subtly steer the conversation to figure out what happened between her and Charlie but he never could quite get her to go there without him asking outright. All he knew was that it was over.

Honestly, things were still generally well outside of work. The weekly visits to Connie and Guy’s were comfortable and to the point everyone, including Adam, were able to make old inside jokes and commentary that used to be too awkward to even broach in conversation.

Then there was Ned, the trainer from the clinic. Adam wasn’t entirely sure he was looking for the same things as him, but the had gone out a couple of times and as far as a casual thing to ease the loneliness that Adam would feel at night. However things weren’t just clicking as the way Adam knew they should. Mostly because every time that Adam was about to think about moving forward something would happen with Charlie that would bring him back. Make him remember what he was really looking for.

Sometimes it was something small, like a glance or a smile. Or sometimes it was more substantial, like a personal compliment or a hand on his shoulder and Adam would know that him and Ned, and really him and anyone other than Charlie Conway were doomed. Adam could never have Charlie as he wanted, but that didn’t mean Adam could be with anyone else either.

Nonetheless when Adam’s attendance at a local fundraiser for some charity or nonprofit was expected he invited Ned along if for no other reason than there would be at least one tolerable person to talk to.

Adam had been to many fancy occasions over the years, either on behalf of his parents or on behalf of his employer. They were all dreadfully dull and Adam had his suspicions about where all the money that was collected went, but Ned seemed properly in awe.

“You know all these people?” Ned asked and Adam shrugged. He knew enough of them.

Halfway through the evening Adam had somehow lost Ned in the crowd, so he was just meandering around the great hall, acknowledging the people he knew and ignoring the one’s he didn’t which was most people.

However while he was only somewhat listening to Mr. Sutton describe the fruits of his last trip to New York, Adam saw Charlie come through the door. This was not expected. Not that Charlie was invited, but that he’d actually come. Charlie often complained about the many events and functions that people had invited him to since being named head coach of the Minnesota Wild.

“They should just tell me what it’s for and who to write the check out to,” Charlie had said last week at Connie and Guy’s last week.

“Charlie?” Adam asked, as he walked towards him.

“Adam!” Charlie said, and the slight smile that he’d been sporting when came in widened at the sight of Adam. Adam tried not to read too much into it.

“What are you doing here?” Adam asked, “I thought you hated these things.”

“I do,” Charlie said, “but I had nothing to do and…”

Charlie seemed to pause, as if to debate whether he could say what he wanted to say next.

“I knew you would be here,” Charlie said, and Adam was not prepared for the thrill that traveled up his spine. He wasn’t entirely sure, but it sounded like Charlie had come here because Adam was here.

“Oh yeah,” Adam said, “sort of forced as part of my job.”

Charlie nodded.

“How’s it going? The job I mean.”

Adam should have lied, should have shrugged Charlie off, but he was so happy by Charlie being here and the fact that Charlie was here because of him that he didn’t really think before answering with the truth.

“Terribly,” Adam said.

“Oh yeah,” Charlie said, “I thought it was going well.”

Adam shook his head, “No, it’s just a mess. I don’t know that I really fit there.”

Charlie looked at him.

“I am sure you do,” he said, “you’re still new, it always takes time.”

“I don’t think time is the problem,” Adam said and stared at his shoes, “But it’s fine, I mean things could be worse.”

“You’ll get through it,” Charlie said, “You always do.”

Adam nodded.

There was an awkward silence between them for a minute, but not tense. Adam felt giddy and suddenly the problems at his job, with his dad were gone. He was glad he came tonight. He wanted to talk to Charlie about…Well he didn’t know what, but just---this felt like an opportunity and Adam wasn’t going to waste it.

“Hey so---” Charlie began but was interrupted when Ned approached them, two drinks in hand.

“Hey, I think I met a friend of your dad’s, I think he wants to speak to you,” Ned said handing Adam a drink. When he turned to see Charlie standing there he smiled and offered his hand.

“Oh, Coach Conway, you’re here! it’s a pleasure seeing you again,” Ned said.

Charlie merely nodded and looked to Adam and suddenly the tension in the air was palpable and Adam wasn’t entirely sure why.

“You’re here together?” Charlie asked.

“Oh yeah,” Ned said, “I could never get into a place like this on my own.”

Adam nodded, to show that what Ned was saying was correct.

“You’re together” Charlie said and then smiled. He thumbed his brow, looked over his shoulder and then back at them.

“We’re here together,” Adam said, “but as friends.”

Charlie didn’t seemed calmed by Adam’s qualification and Adam felt the opportunity that had seemed so present earlier slip away.

“So what brings you here,” Ned asked, “You really want to support the veteran’s foundation. Your dad a veteran.”

“Yeah, sure,” Charlie said.

There was an announcement from the stage where the string quartet had been playing melodies throughout the evening, stating that dinner was being served.

“Come on, let’s go,” Ned said pulling at Adam. Adam looked at Charlie, who was just staring at the point where Ned’s hand was clutching the sleeve of Adam’s jacket.

“Charlie,” Adam said, “Do you want to…”

“No, I’m, I’m going to go,” Charlie said, “have fun.”

“You just got here,” Adam tried to protest, “I mean….”

“No, I forgot something,” Charlie said and he looked at Ned.

“I can go,” Adam said, “I mean.”

“No, stay,” Charlie said, “I don’t want to ruin your evening.”

Adam wanted to assure him that there was no way that Charlie could ever ruin his evening.

“It was good seeing you man,” Ned said completely oblivious to the silent conversation happening between Charlie and Adam, and he turned to head to the buffet tables.

Adam turned back to Charlie.

“You don’t have to go,” Adam said, “I mean they have plenty of stuff here.“

“No, there’s nothing for me here,” Charlie said, “Go, join your boyfriend. We’ll talk later.”

Before Adam could say anything else, Charlie turned and strode out of the room and he was gone. Adam swallowed a breath. There had been something in Charlie’s tone, something akin to…

He was jealous.

Charlie was was jealous. Of Ned. Because Ned was here with Adam and Charlie had come here to see Adam. He was sure of that now. Despite the unease that came with Charlie’s parting. The knowledge that he made Charlie jealous, that Charlie could still feeling anything like that when it came to Adam. Adam couldn’t believe it. He had thought the most he could hope for would be the restoration of his and Charlie’s friendship, but now. Now something else sparked in him. There was a chance, though Adam didn’t know how big, that maybe he could re-capture something he’d thought was gone forever.

That thought was enough that Adam gladly sat through the rest of the event. He looked at Ned, and resolved to end things officially as soon as possible. Not that evening, but soon, it wasn’t like they were really together but he deserved Adam to make things clear. And then if the legal aid society thing worked out. Adam didn’t know, he thought maybe if all that was settled he could finally get back to a place where he could at least if not be a person that Charlie loved. He could be a person that Charlie could love even if it was only in theory.

Speaking of the legal aid society, Adam spotted Angela Marcus on his way out. He excused himself from Ned and bounded over to her.

“Ms. Marcus!” he said and she stopped and turned to him.

“Um, do I know you?” she asked.

“Yes, I mean not in person. Um, I’m Adam Banks, I submitted my resume to you for the job opening on your site a few days ago,” Adam said.

“Oh that’s right,” she replied, “It was very impressive.”

“Look, I know it may not seem like it, but I think I would be a very good fit at your organization. I really admire the work and I want to be a part of it.” Adam went into a list of achievements

She sighed.

“You’re with Sutton & Fisher, right?” she asked and Adam nodded, “You know I won’t be able to even come close to matching your salary let alone beating it and that’s not not to mention the benefits.”

“It’s not about the money,” Adam said and smiled a bit at her look of disbelief.

“You see, once upon a time I was a part of something. Something bigger than myself. A team, and I want, no, I know that I can do that again,” Adam said, “and I think that I should be doing that with you. I respect the work you do and I think it’s work worth doing. Just give me the chance to prove it.”

Angela smiled at that.

“All right, call me in the morning, we’ll set up a formal interview,” she said.

“Thank you,” Adam said.

This was it. This would be the start.

After a few months of just horrible luck on Adam’s part, it really was like everything was coming together. He’d called Angela first thing in the morning to arrange for a Monday Morning interview. The following weekend, Adam sat Ned down and officially broke it off or rather stated his feelings and lack thereof. Ned took pretty well, probably owing to the fact that they were never really a thing in the first place.

Two days following the interview, Adam was officially offered a job at the Legal Aid Society, which Adam accepted happily. The satisfaction he felt when gave his current employer his official notice was tremendous. He held out on telling anybody though, he need to have a sit down with his parents and tell them in person. But that could wait, for now he could just enjoy the freedom and the weight that he now had something to work towards as opposed to just working.

It came at an opportune time as the annual Ducks reunion was the following weekend. Connie and Guy were hosting and Connie crowed that for the first time in a few years everyone would be there. Well everyone except Coach Bombay who was in the middle getting ready for the upcoming Goodwill Games, but all of the team would be there. Adam was tasked with bringing ice and some sort of liquor and so Adam arrived somewhat early to help with the set up. Charlie was already there and he shot Adam a smile which Adam returned happily.

They didn’t have much time for just them as it wasn’t long before everyone else began to arrive. For the first time in years, even though Adam had only missed a few over the years, he felt fully present and unburdened. He laughed with Russ and Kenny about what was going on in LA. He shot back choice comments at Portman and Averman. Took his turn goading Goldberg over some petty thing. The team plus the respective spouses and children felt complete.

“Adam!”

Adam turned towards the gate in the backyard to see Julie coming towards him. Adam beamed and gathered her into a tight hug. Back in high school, aside from Charlie, the person Adam had been closest to was Julie. She was the first of his teammates he’d come out (it would have been Charlie, but Adam had been harboring feelings so coming out to Charlie was not really an option) and of all of them it was Julie who was closest to know what the pressure to perform was like. She was a solid member of team U.S.A. and per every Duck, Julie was the best goalie in the sport (guy and girl).

“Oh my god, you look so good,” she said, “What’s happened to you Banksy?”

“Oh not much,” he said, “or at least not as much as you. How does that gold medal feel.”

“Great,” she said.

Soon the others joined them and the reunion went into full swing. It was later after the first round of food and everyone was transitioning for the night and the inevitable bonfire that Julie and Adam found a quiet moment to catch up. Adam could see Charlie outside, speaking with Connie and Guy and he found himself watching Charlie through the pane of glass as he listened to Julie talk about her teammates and her friends. He told her about his job and the fact that he quit it as well as how much he was looking forward to starting at the Legal Aid Society.

He turned back to her when she began talking about a friend of hers from her old pre-Ducks team in Maine who’d died late the previous year.

“It was so sudden,” Julie said, her voice hollow from the memory, “One minute she was happy, healthy and then she was diagnosed and then gone.”

“I’m so sorry,” Adam said, he placed his hands on top of hers.

“It was such a shock,” Julie said, “you know if it hadn’t been for her, I wouldn’t be here. She urged me to take the spot on Team U.S.A.”

Adam didn’t really have words to comfort her, but he just nodded and let her know it was okay if she kept going he was listening.

“You know what really gets me,” Julie said, “is her husband? They were so in love. High school sweethearts back in Maine. They were perfect together. And yet. And yet, she hasn’t even been dead for eight months and he’s already engaged to his new girlfriend.”

Adam could see the undercurrent of anger in Julie’s manner, not that he thought it was unwarranted, eight months was a quick turnaround.

“I just don’t understand. How could you be so devoted to your wife for most of your life and then she’s gone and you turn around and marry the next woman you meet. I mean, I’d be fine with him moving on but not like that. It’s like he forgot Phoebe.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know how to be alone,” Adam said, “I couldn’t imagine losing someone like that.”

“Still,” Julie said, “a woman would never move on that fast.”

Adam let out a small smile.

“You’re saying all men would?” Adam asked.

“I wouldn’t say all, but most,” Julie said, “I don’t know, this really bothered me.”

“Well definitely not all,” Adam said and he definitely wasn’t thinking of himself, rather he turned around and stared at his team, his friends, his family outside. He saw Charlie walk inside and to the kitchen behind them and Adam thought about his own devotion over the years. He’d broken up with Charlie but had never stopped loving him, to the point that he had known that even though it was over there would not be anyone else ever. He wondered if it would have been different if Charlie had died. Adam didn’t think so.

“What about Guy?” Adam asked trying to divert the conversation and his thoughts elsewhere, “Do you think if something happened to Connie, Guy would move on so fast?”

They both watched Connie and Guy, with their perfect timing. They stood next Jessie and his wife and Guy quietly whispered something in Connie’s ear before pressing a soft kiss against her forehead.

“No, I think Guy wouldn’t,” Julie said, “you’re right, and I really don’t know, I’ve never been through it. Losing someone like that.”

Adam smiled.

“And it isn’t just Guy,” Adam said, “and hell it might not even that good of a trait in some circumstances. Some of us can’t even move on when we really should.”

Julie turned away from watching Guy and Connie and turned back to him.

“I think you’re thinking of someone specific,” Julie said, “do you want to talk about it.”

“I’ll tell you what I told Connie, months ago. There isn’t anything to talk about,” Adam said. Julie made it clear that that phrase wasn’t going to fly.

“Adam do you still—“

“Yes,” Adam said, a little too quickly, “I’ve never stopped. I’ve tried, lord knows I ‘ve tried. It’s just. He’s always here and everywhere. I can’t turn a corner in the entire city and see his face.”

“He’s done pretty well,” Julie said, “but I take it that that isn’t really the problem.”

“I know it’s my fault,” Adam said, “I was the one who ended it. So maybe I don’t have the right to hold on. But—“

“You still love him.”

“I’ll always love him,” Adam said, “isn’t that pathetic.”

“No,” Julie said, “Adam it isn’t. We all saw it, even those who didn’t know.”

“Yeah, but that was then, this is now,” Adam said.

“You haven’t changed that much,” Julie said, “and I think your devotion is the best thing about you.”

Adam smiled.

“It’s annoying at times,” he said.

“Yeah well,” Julie said, “You know Charlie can be pretty annoying as well.”

Adam laughed, effectively ending the conversation. They joined the others outside, Adam felt every now, Charlie staring at him, not unlike how he had done at the housewarming party when Adam had first come back. But this time it was different, less painful.

Once the sun had gone down, Guy lit the bonfire and they all gathered around, marshmallows on sticks. Fulton began to strum the first few bars of Queen’s We are the Champions and the group began to recount their victories, their losses and all the times in between.

“We need to send a picture to Coach,” Goldberg said, “since he bailed on us this year.”

“Hey, he has a championship to defend,” Connie said.

“Yeah our championship,” Goldberg said, “We were his team first.”

Half the team agreed, but they all gathered behind the fire pit for the group photo. Adam stood in the back next Jesse. He felt an arm wrap around his shoulder from his left and he was surprised to turn to see Charlie there.

“You don’t mind do you?” Charlie asked.

Adam smiled, shook his head.

“No, not all,” Adam said.

“Good,” Charlie said, “because you didn’t really have a choice.”

Adam felt the heat in his cheeks and he’s glad that it’s a bit too dark for Charlie to notice his blush.

The photos were taken, one serious and one goofy and at the end the group descended into laughter, and Adam was once again thankful that he’d been lucky to be granted this, a second family where he could be nothing but himself.

It was late by the time Adam got home from the reunion, and he ended up just dropping his phone on the table and collapsing on the bed and sleeping for a straight twelve hours, a smile on his face from the good tidings of the event. After the picture, Charlie had remained close to him, always in the vicinity and though they didn’t talk alone amongst themselves, Adam definitely felt that there was something.

Something, he’d stake his claim on a something.

He was only somewhat hungover when he woke up, the light streaming through the bright curtains into his bedroom window. He pulled sat up and rubbed the temple trying to will the slight headache away. Adam pulled the phone from his nightstand to check the time only to find that it was dead. He plugged it in and decided to wake himself up with a quick shower. He relived the prior night as he let the warm water wash over him, and he kept coming back to Charlie’s face. His smile. Just the way Adam felt being near him. It was like before.

Adam knew that he couldn’t take this stand still much longer. He’d have to talk to Charlie soon, clear it out. Adam thought that there were feelings there, and if he could just get him alone. Tell him how he felt, apologize for what happened ten years prior. Things could be….

Adam climbed out of the shower and pulled on a simple shirt. He didn’t need to figure this out now, there was no rush.

He looked at his phone, newly refreshed to check the time and frowned when he saw the notification that he had a voicemail. His head was still somewhat fuzzy fro the hangover so he didn’t even really look to see who had called, just absentmindedly pressed the play button and put the phone to his ear and searched around his room for the rest of things he needed for the rest of the day.

He stopped however when he heard Charlie’s voice, a little unsure and atypical. His heart rose with each word.

Hey Adam, It’s me, ummmm Charlie—What am I saying you probably know this is me …….[pause and heavy breathing]…….Listen, I wanted to call because I overheard your conversation with Julie and I, well I wanted to say that I feel the same way. For me it’s the same as you. I was angry, hurt, but I’ve never stopped—I mean—that for me it’s you. It’s always been you. There is no one but you. I don’t know if any of this makes sense, and if you don’t understand you can forget it, but—OH hell.

I love you. I loved you then, I love you now, and I’ll love you tomorrow. Just tell me what you’re feeling, it’s up to you and what you want. But I’m here.

Always.”

The option menu began to go through the options, but Adam’s entire body was frozen in place, constantly repeating the same message in his head. He loved him! Charlie loved him! It was a song in his head and Adam didn’t feel the hangover. His hands shook as he pressed the buttons to call Charlie back. He was practically jumping out of his skin as he waited for Charlie to pick up the phone. As soon Charlie’s voice Adam began to speak, too excited to even listen.

“Hey Charlie I got your message—“

“—I can’t come to the phone, please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Unless this is Averman, if that’s the case you need to come over because you owe me a beer.”

It was Charlie’s voicemail. Damn it.

Adam tried to recall whether Charlie had said anything last night as to what his plans were for the day. Maybe he should just head over to Charlie’s, he could get the address from Connie. But it didn’t matter. What once hadn’t been a rush now was. He turned on the local news to steady his thoughts. The broadcaster was standing in front of an outdoor festival.

“And there is plenty of local vendors and representatives of all sorts of businesses, and Coach Conway and Nordy will be out here shortly along with plenty of other local heroes.

Adam stared at the screen in disbelief. He smiled, this was certainly a message from the universe. Adam’s mind was a whirl on his way to the park. He bounded through the plethora of stalls and vendors until he made it to the small amphitheater at the end and there he was. Charlie was standing next to Nordy, the Wild Mascot. He was smiling, playing the consummate coach. Adam enjoyed watching him, noting the lines. He’d avoided spending too much time since he was back to appraise Charlie or take him in. It hadn’t been his right. But now, Charlie’s message etched into his memory, he took the time to note him properly. To carve every look into his memory. Something to have for later when he was alone.

Some might say that Charlie was not conventionally attractive, but Adam never agreed with the some. Everything about Charlie was attractive to Adam. His smile, his eyes, his face, his demeanor, the way he carried himself.

Charlie was only up there for a few minutes before he bid the crowds good-bye and disappeared into the backstage area. An area that Adam did not have access to. He did decide to hang around for awhile, on the off chance that Charlie made his way to the festival. It was a long shot Adam knew, but Charlie was here so this was where Adam was going to be.

“Banksy!”

Adam turned to see Connie and Guy standing by a fruit stand waving him over. Adam smiled and headed over.

“What brings you here? I never pegged you as a farmer’s market sort of guy,” Guy said.

Adam smiled, “Oh you know, you can never have enough fresh produce.”

They laugh and talk for a little while, mostly about the other Ducks and how good everyone had looked the night before. Adam kept glancing through the crowd, hoping that maybe, just maybe he would be able to pick Charlie out of the crowd.

No, Adam ended up not seeing him at all, at least not before Charlie had found him first.

They were discussing the Twins game when Charlie came up.

“Hey, I think I’m done for the day if you want to go grab something to eat,” Charlie said coming upon them but then he startled when Adam turned to see him.

They both just stared for a moment not saying anything.

“Hey,” Charlie said, seeming to forget his earlier greeting.

“Hey,” Adam said back, and he struggled to hold back the grin. Charlie seemed to be doing the same.

Connie said something and both Adam and Charlie at the same time gave her a ‘huh?” as they did not hear a single word she said. Adam didn’t even take his eyes off Charlie, he was too busy trying to formulate what he was going to say.

Connie shot them a strange look as if she knew something was amiss, Guy didn’t seem to notice at all, just held a hand out for a quick hug.

“We were just going to go to the cafe down the street when we done here,” Connie said, “Is what I was saying before, you guys are going to do that?”

Charlie’s sure was so automatic that both Connie and Adam knew that he probably didn’t mean to agree to go with them.

“So you’re here,” Charlie said turning back to Adam.

“Yeah,” Adam said, “Um, I was looking for something to do and I came here.”

He wasn’t going to say.

“Oh, and your job, I heard you——“

“Yeah, I quit, um on Friday actually,” Adam said, “So I still have another week.”

“You quit your job Banksy?” Connie asked and again Charlie and Adam turned to her, once again forgetting that they were not alone.

“Yeah, I got a new one for the Legal Aid Society,” Adam said, “It’s no big deal.”

“Sounds like a big deal to me,” Guy said.

“That’s good,” Charlie said and in those two syllables Adam knew that he understood what Adam was doing, “I’m proud of you.”

Connie looked back and forth a couple of times between Charlie and Adam and then tugged at Guy’s arm.

“Come on, I want to check out that goat cheese stand over there,” Connie said, “Come on.”

“Since when do you like goat cheese?” Guy asked, and Connie groaned and physically yanked Guy away until it was just Adam and Charlie.

“So you want to go somewhere?” Charlie asked.

Adam nodded.

“I do.”

Charlie nodded for Adam to follow and they made their way through the market until they made their way to a wooded clearing that was secluded from the walking traffic. The stopped below a large tree in the corner and for a moment they just stood, at a loss of words. They both moved to speak a the same time and then stopped.

“I got your message,” Adam said.

“You can delete my message,” Charlie said at the same time.

“Did you mean it?” Adam asked.

Charlie pursed his lips for a moment.

“Every word.”

Adam took in a breath, he had gone over a hundred times over the past hour of what he was going to say and what he was going to do. But standing here, with it all coming to the end he couldn’t remember any of it. So he stammered to put the words together. To boil down ten years of regret and pain and pining into a word, a sentence and an action. Adam decided to start at the beginning.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I wanted to tell you but I never thought——”

“I know,” Charlie said and he had stepped closer, almost close enough for Adam to reach forward and pull him in but he didn’t.

Adam made eye contact and willed himself to get the words out, clear and with no reason to question.

“I love you.”

Charlie didn’t repeat the sentiment, he just stepped forward, a slight smile at the corner of his mouth and leaned in and kissed him. Softly. Chastely. But enough that Adam felt it down to the tip of every extremity.

It felt like home.

“God I missed you,” Charlie said, “you want to get out of here. I live around here.”

“Hell yes,” Adam breathed.

Charlie laughed; his entire face lit up in to a broad smile open and free and entirely for Adam.

“Come on,” he said and he took Adam’s hand and lead him back to the sidewalk. On the whole way back to Charlie’s place Adam noticed no one other than his friend before him.

Once they were safely in Charlie’s apartment, Adam took a few moments to take stock of his surroundings. Charlie’s apartment was exactly what Adam would expect it to be. Simple, non-pretentious and filled with a certain sentimentality that Adam knew Charlie wouldn’t be able to resist.

Hung over the wooden mantle of the fireplace there was a large blown up picture of the ’92 Ducks with the Championship trophy and next to it was Charlie’s jersey and what Adam assumed was the puck of Charlie’s game winning shot. Charlie had had a thousand and one achievements and accolades since that game, but that one had been his favorite.

“This hardly reflects that multimillion dollar contract you just scored,” Adam said, to somewhat ease the tension and slight awkwardness of the moment.

“I like it,” Charlie said, “besides I’m never here anyways. I much rather go to Connie and Guy’s.”

“I like it too,” Adam said and he ran his hands up the collar of Charlie’s sweatshirt, “And I like you.”

They kissed again, deeper this time and filled with intent. Adam brought his hands up and combed them through Charlie’s hair, getting as close to him as he could. It didn’t take them long to tumble back into Charlie’s bed, discarding as much clothing as they could. They probably should have talked more on proper reflection, but in the heat of the moment that went out the window.

Charlie pressed Adam into the mattress. It wasn’t quite picking up where they left off, but enough came back that they weren’t the fumbling teens, struggling with the mechanics of it all. Adam had not been celibate and he knew Charlie must not have been either, not that he wanted to think about it, particularly as Charlie traced his lips down Adam’s throat. He whispered endearments in Adam’s ears.

Charlie was not equipped for everything, so they were limited to what they were able to do with their hands and their mouths. It didn’t matter, because nothing else had ever felt better. Adam had never felt more loved and more himself with it all.

When they had finally exhausted themselves through the lovemaking, Adam sank back into the sheets and closed his eyes. He reached around Charlie when he collapsed on top of him.

They took a few moments to rest and regain their bearings before Charlie rolled over on top of him and propped himself up on his elbows. Adam gazed up at him through a haze of lust and affection. He reached out and began to run his hands through Charlie’s hair again, marveling at the feel of it between his fingers and that he is able to do this.

“We should probably talk,” Charlie said looking at him. Adam opened his eyes to look at him. He shot him a playful smirk, as a distraction and to test how serious he thought the subject was.

“You sure?” Adam asked, “because there’s other stuff we could do.”

Charlie laughed, but he quit laughing just his face grew serious and contemplative.

“What is it?” Adam asked..

“I’m sorry,” Charlie said.

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I was a bit unfair to you, when you first came back,” Charlie said, “I was rude and resentful and really. I should have been better than that.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Adam said, “It was me. It’s what I—“

“No,” Charlie said, “I mean, yeah you broke it off. But that was ten years ago. I should’ve been over it.”

“I don’t blame you,” Adam said, “If I were you I would’ve done the same thing. The thing is that I regretted it from the moment I did it. If I could go back….”

“I don’t believe in second guessing things,” Charlie said, he bent down and pressed his lips to Adam’s, “I have a question.”

“Shoot,” Adam said, he brushed his thumb back and forth behind Charlie’s ear.

“If I contacted you after your knee injury, do you think? Do you think that we would have gotten back together?”

Adam’s thumb stopped and held in space, he squirmed slightly in the bed.

“Honestly, if you had come to me three weeks after we broke up, I would have taken you back,” Adam said.

Charlie hissed.

“God, we were such fools,” he said, “all this time. I was just so angry. You could stand up to everyone other than him and—“

“It wasn’t because it was him,” Adam said, “I didn’t do it for him. Or me for that matter. I thought.”

“You thought what.”

“I thought it would be better for you. That I would somehow hold you back or you would have given up something for me. At the time I thought of it only in terms of careers, but now looking back,” Adam smacked his lips, trying to form the words. To make sure Charlie understood.

“I didn’t want to ruin you.”

Adam squeezed his eyes shut, almost in embarrassment at the admission. It was so silly.

“You couldn’t ruin me, Adam,” Charlie said, “You could hurt me, break my heart, that was apparent enough, but you could never ruin me.”

“I know,” Adam said, “But we were young and if you think about it, had things been different, do you think you would be where you are now?”

Charlie thought about it for a moment but then looked at Adam again.

“I don’t know, but still….I always thought it was because you’d grown beyond me. I wasn’t good enough or you were done and ready to move on and I wasn’t,” Charlie said, “You probably didn’t know this but I was very unpleasant my first few years of college. I only cared about being the best, proving you and your asshole father wrong.”

Charlie didn’t ask Adam for forgiveness for the insult to Adam’s father. It was in all honesty, completely deserved if one came at it from Charlie’s point of view.

“So what changed?” Adam asked, “was it me coming back?”

“No, it was actually when you blew out your knee,” Charlie said, “I admit, when I heard, there was a part of me that was like ’serves you right’, but then when I had time to think, it was like everything just seeped out of me. I knew how hard that would have been for you, how your dad would’ve made it harder. That I would never get to play with you again.”

“You thought about that?” Adam asked.

“I did. Even when I was my most angry and hurt, I think a part of me still dreamed that we’d end up on the same team some day. That Eden Hall wasn’t the end. I knew that the Ducks as a hockey team could never last forever, but you and I that felt—“

“It felt forever,” Adam finished, “I know.”

“I almost called but I held back,” Charlie said, “maybe because while the anger was gone, the resentment wasn’t.”

“And when I came back?” Adam asked bringing Charlie back to the present.

“You just didn’t say anything, never broached the topic,” Charlie said, “I thought maybe you forgot or that it had always been a bigger thing to me than it had been for you. I don’t know.”

“I didn’t think I had the right to say anything,” Adam said, “I mean I knew when I ended it that I couldn’t go back. So what changed your mind now?”

“After the dinner party, you looked——“ Charlie was quiet, “you looked lost and I realized watching you walk back in and how you held yourself. At first I thought you were cowering, but now I know. You were trying to remain yourself and I realized that despite everything. You hadn’t changed and neither had I. I still loved you.”

“But then the hockey clinic happened and that guy hit on you and you were so involved in your work that I think I got lost in the shuffle. I didn’t know how to approach you, because while I knew you wanted to be friends, I wasn’t sure whether you still felt the same way,” Charlie said.

“We were never serious,” Adam said, “I guess it was the same as you and Steph.”

“I have regrets about that,” Charlie said, “I think maybe the whole reason that I sort of pursued something was that she was connected to you, that maybe me being with her would get under your skin. It failed miserably. She didn’t deserve that.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” Adam said, “she bounced back really quickly. And it did bother me.”

“And then yesterday, I heard that you left your job and your talk with Julie and I couldn’t hold back,” Charlie said, “because maybe that confession of yours was a way of letting go and I couldn’t let that happen. So I panicked and left you that message.”

It was Adam’s turn to laugh, imagining Charlie while making the message he could see it now.

“What would you have done if I actually answered?” Adam asked, more out of curiosity than anything.

“I probably would have hung up,” Charlie said.

They both grinned and Adam brought Charlie down to kiss him again.

“So you’re really sure?” Charlie asked, “I mean, it’s okay if—“

“I’m sure,” Adam said, “You and me, to the end.”

“To the end,” Charlie said and they sank into each other again, this time moving slowly and with more purpose, re-memorizing the course of each other’s bodies, Adam constantly tell Charlie that he loved him and when to move and when to stop.

They progressed for another few hours, switching between talking and fucking before Adam noted the time on the nightstand.

“Crap, I have a thing at my parent’s tonight,” Adam said, not really wanting to leave Charlie at all.

“Can you skip it?” Charlie asked.

“No,” Adam said, “I have to tell my dad about my job. I mean before he hears it from one of his many contacts.”

Adam covered his eyes with his hands and sighed.

“Do you need me to go with you?” Charlie asked.

Adam shook his head.

“No, I think I should do this myself,” Adam said, grazing the arch of Charlie’s bicep with hand, admiring the tone of the muscle, “But you can meet me later if you want.”

“I think I’ll do that,” Charlie said, “You know, just to make sure.”

“That’s fine,” Adam said, “I should probably tell them about you too. You know, kill one bird with one stone.”

“Sounds good. So do you have to get ready now, or can umm, can I show you something I learned while you’re gone.”

Adam kissed Charlie again, loving the entire feel of him, so overcome with happiness that Adam probably would have agreed to anything Charlie asked. When he was young, his father had been his weakness, but now it was Charlie who was.

Or maybe his greatest strength.

“Show me,” Adam said was rewarded with Charlie’s sinking hands and another round of pure unadulterated bliss.

Adam’s father sat across from him, completely stone-faced. Adam had just delivered the news of his change in employment. He’d gotten there early, prior to even the catering and event planning staff and he’d tried in his most measured voice his reasoning for his decisions.

“Are you sure about this?” his mother asked, her voice small as it always was in these types of situations, always deferring to his father’s judgment. Adam wondered whether there was any line where his mother would defy his father. It certainly had not been Adam or brother.

“This is ludicrous,” his father said, “how can you expect to make a living like that. You won’t even be making a hundred thousand a year! I can’t condone it! Do you want to know I had to do to get you that job in the first place, what I promised them?”

“That isn’t my problem,” Adam said, “this job, the legal aid one. It’s what I want to do. I want to be a part of something real and good again. If that means a pay cut then so be it.”

“Will you be okay?” his mother asked, “I mean financially.”

“He better be,” His father boomed, “I’m not paying for him to live.”

“I’ll be able to meet all my obligations,” Adam said.

“And not much else,” his father bit back, “How are you going to get anywhere now? It’ll take you years to build any sort of reputation to get to where….”

“To where you did?” Adam asked.

His father just stared at him, Adam’s voice was curt and almost judgmental and Adam knew father wasn’t used to it, this was his house after all.

“What do you mean by that?”

Adam sighed.

“Do you remember Charlie?” Adam asked.

“What the hockey coach?”

“Yes, but before. Back when I was in high school and you did everything to convince me to leave him.”

“Which you did,” his father said, “because you still had sense back then.”

“I never forgave myself for that,” Adam said, “because back then, playing for that team, being with Charlie. It was the time of my life that I felt the most myself. I want, no I need to feel like that again. I want to like myself. I’m not you, and I don’t want to be.. Because I’m not.”

“And so you’re just going to struggle for the rest of your life?” his father said, “live in absolute obscurity?”

“Doesn’t seem so bad to me,” Adam said, “I don’t need that much in the grand scheme of things. I want to work for something real again, hell, actually do what a lawyer is supposed to do.”

“And what pray tell is that?”

“Advocate,” Adam said simply.

The room was silent and his mother fidgeted in her seat, she took the first opportunity to leave when she noted the first guests arriving at the door.

“I better go,” she said, standing up and scuttling out of the office, neither Adam nor his father moved to stop her.

“Oh and there’s one more thing,” Adam said, “About Charlie.”

“And what is that?” His father asked.

“We’re together.”

His father sighed, somewhat deflated, and Adam felt his resolve build. He was getting through. His father may not be happy but he would accept it.

“Is that what this about,” his father said, “You wanted to get him back and and punish me because you’ve gotten it in your head that I’ve forced you into your life. Adam, I ‘ve just wanted what was best for you.”

“And maybe you should admit that you don’t know what is best for me,” Adam said, “I’m doing this for me, because I have to live with myself. You just need to accept that.”

“What do you want me from Adam?” his father asked, “My approval? My blessing? An apology.”

All of those, Adam thought would suffice, but at the end that wasn’t really what mattered to him. He wasn’t here to hurt his dad or shove it in his face. He was here to be honest and true.

“I just want you to understand,” Adam said, “I’m happy, and I’m proud. I hope that one day you can be proud of me too.”

It was at that moment that Adam caught sight of Charlie walking through the door. Adam smiled to himself. It had only been a couple hours since they parted, but Adam had already missed him. He turned back to his father.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I think this thing is about to start.”

Adam stands straight and resolute and strides out of his father’s office with a confidence that before that day Adam hadn’t been sure he really possessed. He ignored most everyone in his path until he finally reached Charlie, his smile broad. Without even thinking as to the surrounding guests, Adam slightly pecked Charlie on the cheek.

“How’d it go?” Charlie asked.

“It’s going to be fine,” Adam said, “maybe a bit rough at first, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Charlie seemed to calm at Adam’s reassurance, though he did tense slightly when his parents approached them.

“I don’t believe we invited you,” Adam’s father said and before Charlie could jump in, Adam cut in.

“It was me,” Adam said, “He’s with me.”

Adam wrapped his arm around Charlie who was looking slightly flustered but also bemused.

“Right,” his mother said, “feel free to walk around, of course food will be served in the dining room.”

Charlie thanked them and then turned back to Adam.

“Man your dad really hates me,” he said.

“He’ll get over it,” Adam said and then took a step back to fully take Charlie in, “Well you cleaned up fast.”

“Well having to constantly make flights and buses within minutes and hours of a games has made me quite good at dressing on the rush,” Charlie said.

“And undressing?” Adam asked, pointedly raising an eyebrow.

“Oh that goes even quicker,” Charlie said, “do you want to test it.”

“What? Here?” Adam asked.

“I believe you still have a room,” Charlie said.

Adam bit his tongue, mostly to clamp down on the rising lust. God, they’d only been back together for half a day and Adam wanted nothing more than hole up in a room and have his way.

“I do,” Adam said, “let’s just be discrete about it. I don’t particularly want my Aunt Eliza bursting in on us or something.”

“Right,” Charlie said, “discrete. We were always good at that.”

Discrete meant that they both made their way to Adam’s room separately, Charlie first and Adam later. Adam walked into the room to see Charlie’s back as he surveyed the room.

“God it’s a fucking time capsule in here,” Charlie said, when he noticed Adam enter the room.

“That’s all on my mom,” Adam said wrapping his arms around Charlie and resting his chin on Charlie’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Adam said softly and directly into Charlie’s ear, “Did I tell you how much I missed you over the years.”

“No, I don’t believe you have,” Charlie said before twisting around and kissing Adam deeply, “tell me.”

Adam smiled, he thought of the photo in the wallet and he studied Charlie’s face again. This time around, he wouldn’t miss a thing and he wouldn’t take it for granted and throw it away.

“I can show you,” Adam said.

Charlie smiled into another kiss and tightened his grip around Adam. They didn’t notice the sounds from the crowd downstairs as they embraced and kissed and held each other, promising to never let go in Adam’s childhood bedroom.

And staring into Charlie’s eyes, noting the way they lit up every time he spoke or leaned into take Adam’s lips into his own, Adam remarked to himself again, that his father had been wrong. Him and Charlie had been anything but fleeting.

They were quite simply.

Forever.