The Junior Goodwill Games *Gunnar Stahl*

Chapter Six

His accent was thicker than I remember, I felt so small as he stared down at me with his vibrant blue eyes. I hadn't answered, far too taken aback by the sight of him, making him whisper amidst the silence, "Please?"

I nodded and stepped aside with my head hung, unsure of his intentions. I pushed the door closed with just my fingertips and turned to face him. His back was to me, seemingly searching my room for something.

To shed some light on our past history, Gunnar was an exchange student at our school a few years back. He was Ben's closest friend and teammate for the two years we were lucky enough to spend with him. They both bonded over their time together on the Lancers, and along the way he and I grew very close as well, only to be separated shortly before Ben's death. Gunnar was always there; always consistent and always caring. Until he left, leaving the impression that he was coming back after the summer. We never heard from him again, even after Ben died. After all the promises, left only to be broken.

My heart was thumping so loudly in my chest, I was hesitant to be the first one to speak until his voice sounded unexpectedly from a few feet away, he turned as he spoke, "You look so different now."

I was surprised at his words, noting his subtle changes in appearance as well. His light brown hair was longer than it used to be, falling over his face on each side with light stubble covering his jawline and chin. He looked so strong, but something in his eyes hinted at defeat.

"Did you think I'd look the same?" I wondered, a smile pulling its way onto my lips, his eyes flickered between them and my eyes.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again," he confessed, his eyebrows furrowed.

I felt a twinge of anger, not knowing whether he didn't think he'd see me again, or if he didn't want to see me again. It was so convenient that after all this time, when the opportunity arose, he wanted to reconnect. At the same time, I could recognize how irrational those thoughts might be.

"I don't know what you're expecting me to say," my fingertips circled my temples as I walked toward my bed, sitting at the edge. He turned to me, clearly concerned.

"Talk to me, be honest with me," he crouched down to eye level, his tone calm. I covered my eyes with my hands, not wanting him to see me upset. His hand rested gently on my forearm in an effort, I guessed, to comfort me. The gesture felt so natural, I took a breath and steadied my voice.

"I guess I just want to understand," my hands clasped together in front of me as I looked into his eyes, using my words carefully, "I can recognize that you had other priorities, especially after being home in Iceland for the first time since the summer before. But what I can't understand is why there was complete silence after you left. Not a single word."

As I spoke, his head sunk more and more and his eyes had turned a shade of red. He pulled his hand away as I continued, "My goal isn't to make you feel any more shitty than I figure you already might, but Ben was your best friend, Gunnar. I was your best friend. Even if it was just one single phone call to tell us you weren't coming back, that was all we wanted. If it was just one message after Ben died. I needed you and you weren't there."

Tears filled my eyes, anger was no longer the emotion to describe this encounter. My voice trembled, "I don't want to assume anything, but when you care about someone the way we both cared about each other, it's hard not to. I don't want you to be the kind of person I've seen you as."

"And I get that, which is why I'm here," his tone was steady. He stood slowly and took a seat next to me on the small twin bed, the mattress sunk beneath him, "I hurt you and I know that, but that was the last thing I intended to do. I can't excuse what I put you through, I can only explain what happened after I got back."