"I don't have to eat much, right?" Alex casually asks while the four of us sit down at an empty table.

The cute café I picked out has just opened the doors, so we're pretty early. A good case, because it gets busy here a few hours after opening time. 

Flynn looks up from the menu, frowning slightly. He looks like he doesn't want to push it, but Eliot doesn't get the hint. "Why not?"

Alex gives him a fake smile. "I already ate breakfast at home, so I'm a little full already. I wouldn't mind a coffee, though."

My eyes lock with Flynn's. Alex didn't eat a single thing back at his house. 

He shakes his head just a tiny bit; barely noticeably telling me to let it go. With another suspicious look at Alex, I do as he says. 

Eliot shrugs, looking back at the menu. Alex seems pleased and comforted because we don't object.

That is, until Flynn nudges him to look at the menu together. "I would like to get this pastry, but one is too little for me, and two is too much. Would you like to share the second?" 

Alex frowns at him. "I don't even know what that is."

I watch as Flynn starts to beam. "It's delicious, really. And, surprisingly, it's really light and it doesn't contain much fat." 

That peaks Alex' interest. "Oh. Yeah, sure, we'll share. Just give the leftovers to me when you're done."

Flynn grins. "Deal."

When the waitress comes and takes our orders, I notice Alex wincing at what we'd like to eat. Ever since we've been here, he's been cautious with anything about food. 

"So what's your major?" I ask him, deciding to put the food off his mind for a second. I won't diagnose myself, without more research or him telling us (something I don't see happening), but he might have an eating disorder. Maybe it's just the start of one, but I still wouldn't wish it upon him. 

"Oh, just Business," he shrugs. "I don't really know what to do later, in case hockey doesn't work out, but Business seemed helpful in the future."

Eliot reaches over the table for a high five. "Me too, dude!"

I like that my friends noticed Alex struggling too. They're trying to reassure him by acting silly, and I feel comforted by the knowledge that he doesn't have to prove himself to them. 

"How's hockey going?" Alex asks, trying to hold back a smirk and failing. All three of us groan, something he had expected and wanted to achieve, because he finally fully smirks. "Happy with your second place?"

"Shut up, or my hot chocolate milk is going to find a new beautiful spot to be on your face," Flynn grunts. He's playing, I can tell from the way he lifts his mug higher than needed and the glint in his eyes. 

I grin. "Don't worry, Alex, Flynn just can't stand losing."

My best friend gasps in outrage. Alex leans closer to me (a bit too close, if you ask me, but I'm definitely not complaining!) and whispers, "I figured. That's why I'm going to invite him to my game today. Care to come, too?"

Oh, fuck my cheeks for turning red. 

"Sure, yeah," I nod. He smiles broadly and leans back in his chair, now winking at me before turning to Flynn. "Hey, why don't you come watch my game today? Maybe you can learn some moves."

"Fuck off."

Our plates are brought, so the table is silent for a few seconds. When the waitress notices Alex doesn't have a plate, she quickly apologizes. "I'm so sorry, sir. You must be hungry! I don't know how I didn't note your order, it must be a lot!"

Alex freezes. "W-what?"

She laughs. "Of course! You're a big guy, that must mean you eat lots! So what can I bring you?"

His eyes cast down. "Nothing, thank you."

As she goes, I gently put a hand on his arm. He shakes me off. All playfulness and joy is gone.

"Anyways," I mumble. "I'm going to his game! Will you join, Flynn?"

He sighs. "Of course you will. I guess I can join, too. Eliot, you?"

Eliot nods, his mouth full of pastry. Alex gives them a small smile. "Alright. I'll have to go in about thirty minutes."

Flynn hands him a third of his pastry. I wish I knew the name of it, because it looks mouthwatering. Alex takes it, but keeps on playing with it instead of eating it. 

Stupid waitress. 

"Is Dante playing today?" Flynn asks, out of nowhere. I take a mental note to ask why he's taken such an interest in Alex' roommate. 

Alex nods, keeping his eyes on the piece of food in his hands. He's looking at it as if it's ruining his life. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason. I just want to know what that man uses for his hair. It looks amazing." I smell lies. 

I point at the poor pastry in Alex' hands. "Is it nice?" 

"Huh? What? Oh," he nods, finally putting it in his mouth. His eyes close, but I don't know if it's because the taste is great or because he regrets it. He just gives me thumbs up. 

A hard swallow later, and he opens his eyes again. "Fantastic."

Flynn gives him another piece. Alex frowns at it for a moment, but then continues to eat it. I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. He ate something. He'll be alright for the game. 

"It's really nice, right? I always eat it when my family's in town and we go out. No one else likes it, but I'm happy we can bond now," Flynn rambles, finishing up his plate. He gave about two third of his second pastry to Alex, and I imagine he's still very hungry, but his trick worked. 

"I'm gonna go, I'll see you later? Don't forget to cheer for me, alright Jake?" Alex winks as he stands up. I grin right back, feeling some bubbly feeling in my chest that I try to ignore for now. "I won't cheer for you, but for the other team? Hell yeah."

He snorts. "It'd be useless; we'll win anyway." And with that, he smiles at the others before leaving the café. 

Flynn immediately searches a waiter. "Fuck, I'm hungry like a horse."

My leg is bouncing up and down with anxiety. 

What the hell am I even doing here? I told Alex I didn't want to be friends, then I continue to go to his party, and now I'm here to cheer for his team? He must think I'm delusional.

Flynn and Eliot are having a competition called catching popcorn. It means they're just throwing popcorn at each other and catching it with their mouths, and shouting when they actually catch it.

Eliot, being the idiot he is, is wearing one of those huge hands to show he's a fan. Flynn has already threatened to throw it in the rink when Eliot accidentally hit him in the face with it, so I don't think it'll survive the game.

When Alex and his team are entering the ice, I see him turning his head to watch the audience. I hope he sees me without me waving like an idiot, because I don't think I can handle that embarrassment. 

He does find me soon enough and gives me a nod. I smile back, some of the anxiety leaving my body. That is, until I hear exaggerated kissing sounds from behind me. I turn, only to see Flynn and Eliot mocking me with hearts made out of their hands over their chests and lips pursed into a kiss. 

"Stop that!" I mutter, but they just cackle like chickens and push me a little. Lucky for me, they're bored soon and go on with catching popcorn. Sometimes I feel like I should be paid like a nanny for putting up with those two. 

The game starts, and I'm instantly invested. Alex plays really well, but that's no surprise. I've played on his team as a teenager, and he was good back then, and when I played on the opposite team, he was just mindblowingly good. 

He might be right about winning this game with ease. 

"Holy fuck, he needs to teach me that," Flynn says. He and Eliot have finally stopped acting like children and started watching the game with interest. "He's really fucking good."

Hey," Eliot points at a player of the opposite team,"that's not allowed, right? Or am I tripping? Why is the official not doing anything?"

I shrug, but notice it too. A few of the other team's players are purposefully making Alex and his wingers trip, just so they can win a few more seconds. Alex seems pissed, and well deserved too. 

At some point, they come dangerously close by Alex' goaltender (Elias?). He saves their dignity with a very beautiful movement, making me question why exactly he thought he needed my tutoring. 

The other team's not happy with that, because they start playing more aggressively. Still, no one comments on their behavior. When they're close to the goal again, one crashes into Elias, crushing him between a body and the goal. 

"Ay!" Alex shouts, throwing his hockey stick to the side and skating up to help his goaltender. Just like he did with me last week, he helps Elias up gently, making sure he's not injured. 

The other teams skates back into position, annoyed. Even the official is. What is this game and its unfairness?

The other two periods are precisely the same. The opponents can't do anything wrong, but whenever Alex' team as much as trips over their own feet, the official flips. 

Resulting in a loss for Alex' team.

When the end is finally there, I watch as all the players leave to their locker room, seeming ready to throw some punches. Flynn grunts in irritation. "And yet, there are people saying this wasn't favoritism."

Would Alex want to see me after such a bad game? Or should we leave? I don't want to fuel his anger, and I also don't want to bother him. 

"I don't think it's a good idea  to ask Dante for his hair product now," I tell Flynn, hinting on leaving. He frowns, confused. "Why would I—oh. Right. Yeah, maybe you're right."

Eliot and I share a look. Something is definitely going on in Flynn's head (something that doesn't happen much, by the way) and it's not wondering about hair products. 

"But I do think Alex needs a pat on the back after some game. Maybe you can make him happy by telling him he at least won against us?" Eliot proposes. I snort. "Trust me, he knows."

Instead of listening to me (that rarely happens, in their cases), they just guide me to Alex' locker room. I can convince them I better stay waiting outside, because they almost pushed me inside. Talk about what kind of invasion of privacy that would be.

A girl is waiting outside too. I recognize her from this morning, but I can't remember her name. Was she Dante's or Elias' girlfriend? 

For Flynn's sake, let's hope Elias'.

Dante's the first one to leave the locker room. Flynn looks him up and down, and, seeing as Dante is only wearing a towel around his waist and the rest of his body is still wet, I swear I can hear Flynn curse.

I lean back a little, until I'm sure Dante won't hear us. He's not looking in our direction, but talking to the girl, but you can never be sure enough, right?

"I didn't know you had taken a liking to boys," I whisper in his ear. He shakes his head, a short, weird sounding laugh leaving his mouth. "I haven't, Jake. I just don't understand why his hair must look that good when he's just come out of the shower?"

It's only his hair looking good? Alright. I'll let him live in denial for a little while longer. 

Dante disappears inside the locker room again. Elias and Alex walk out together. While the goalie immediately swoops the girl in his arms (go, Flynn! Dante's still free!), Alex patiently waits and looks around. When he sees us, his eyes darken. 

"Excuse me," he mutters, then walks towards us. I gulp, not knowing if this was a smart idea. Sure, it was my friends', so I should've reconsidered, but I had hope it wouldn't turn out too bad. 

"You've waited," he says, stopping in front of me. He ignores Eliot and Flynn as though they aren't even here. I nod. "Yeah. I wasn't sure if—"

"I'm glad. That game was shit, and I need to let off some steam. Care to come back to mine?"

His eyes are still dark, as if he has plans with me the moment I agree. Hesitantly, I look at Flynn. He gives me an encouraging nod, winking along with it. 

The horny ass thinks I'm about to get some. Please. As if. 

As if. Sure, Jake.