Crack In The Ice

Chapter Twelve [Eli]

"We're here!"

I smile. "I can see that."

Olie lunges forward, wrapping her arms around my neck in a squeezing hug. I put my arms around her waist. Over her shoulder, I see Natalie hanging back, with a tame smile.

When Olie and I finally disentangle, I raise my hand in hello at Nat.

"Hey."

"Hey," she replies.

Dean comes rushing out of the kitchen then, wearing a gray apron covered in a spaghetti bowl print. He grins at our two visitors. "Hi."

"Okay." Olie arches her eyebrows through her smile. "Hi. What am I looking at?"

"This is a thing now," I say. "He started watching Master Chef last year, and now he googles recipes online to cook."

"We can't eat out or order in every day," Dean says. "Some things turn out better than others but the pasta I'm making for tonight is something I've done before. You'll like, I promise."

Olie gives him two thumbs up. "Can't wait."

"Can I help?" Nat offers.

Dean smiles. "Yeah, sure."

I close our apartment door once Nat follows Dean into the kitchen, then lead Olie to our couch.

"How was your flight?" I ask.

She plops down, tucking one of our pillows under her arm and one of her legs underneath the other. "Not a fan," she declares. "Just add it to the list of things I had been fantasizing about my whole life for nothing."

"That a long list?"

"Not really." She shrugs. "So far it's just flying, prom and you."

I snort. Olie smiles.

"So. How's Trey?"

She gives me a weird look. "Fine."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

I nod.

She gives me another smile. "How's therapy? You still doing that?"

"Every week." I nod. "Got an appointment tomorrow morning."

"And it works fine with your practice and game schedule?"

"It's a team appointed therapist, so yeah. I can have remote appointments during the season, when I have away games."

"That's good." She nods. "You look good. In general, I mean. Better each year, I think."

"I feel better. In general." I shrug.

That isn't a lie. Bad days still come, but it helps knowing they've passed before. And I'm getting better at giving myself a break when they don't pass as fast as I wish they did.

I still feel a twinge of something defensive, like some part of me is expecting Olie to be skeptic, to need me to prove somehow I mean what I say. But that doesn't come. It never does. Not once in years. And with time, I'm starting to become more comfortable accepting my friends' concern for only that. Not a pushy intrusion, not a violation of boundaries. Just natural concern.

"And your team, like coaches and whatever, don't make an issue?" She asks.

"No. Our coach is pretty cool about it. He checks in, but doesn't push. But I never had to miss a practice or anything."

Olie nods like she does when she's in full listener mode.

I laugh. "You and Owen always ask me the same questions."