"Tonight we have the Eden Hall Mighty Ducks versus the Brighton Bears. Just how is this match going to turn out…no one knows."

I found a seat just two rows behind the Ducks bench, and I sank into it gratefully. After standing in line for popcorn for 20 minutes, I was slightly annoyed and irritated. I just wanted to watch the game.

A cheer erupted as the Ducks skated out onto the ice, lead by Charlie. His mere presence made my heart beat slower and faster at the exact same time. But his body language was different, his shoulders were hunched over, and even though I couldn't see his face, I knew his eyes would be troubled.

"Banks!" I looked up and caught Coach Orion's eye. Damn. "Down here, Banks!"

Rather than say no to my coach and be forced to give an explanation, I trudged down the stairs and stepped into the bench.

"How's the wrist?"

I smiled. "Still broken."

"A comedian, huh?" Orion asked, half-smiling, his eyes between me and his players.

I sank down onto the backbench, out of the way. I didn't want to be here, I didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable. But I also didn't want to arise suspicions with my coach.

I cringed as Orion blew his whistle and the Ducks skated over, mostly surprised to see me sitting there, my half-eaten bucket of popcorn in my lap, my eyes averting theirs.

As Orion began to physce them up, I tuned out, trying my damned hardest not to look at Charlie, even though I could feel his eyes boring into the top of my head.

I was uncomfortable. And when I felt the bench give next to me, I looked up and saw Charlie.

"Hey," he said, clearing his throat, his helmet in his hands.

"Hi," I said softly, tilting my popcorn bucket in his direction.

He smiled ever so slightly and dipped his hand in, shoving the popcorn in his mouth.

I looked down at my cast resting in my lap, opting to leave the sling at home, and I pretended to be fascinated by it.

"This is weird."

I looked over at Charlie. "Yes."

He shrugged. "We'll talk later." He pulled his glove on. "This isn't the time or place."

As he got up and slid his helmet on and skated out onto the ice, I had to wonder when he suddenly got so…knowledgeable. Worldy? Responsible? I don't know, all I know is that when he left the bench, he left me confused. Was he the same Charlie Conway?

I spent the rest of the game thoroughly into it. It's so different to watch a hockey game in an actual rink rather than play. It's a whole different perspective. I liked it.

The Ducks won, 9-2. Julie thinks it was because I was there. But I told her not to be stupid.

I don't know what possessed me to hang around, pacing outside of the locker room, but I did.

"You waiting for me?" Charlie said softly as he stood in front of me, his hair wet from his shower.

I shrugged. "I don't know what I'm doing here."

I looked up at him. I looked at his face, his eyes, his nose, his lips. I'd kissed those lips this morning and now…I was scared to even be with him.

"Well, I'd suggest we go for a walk, but we both know what happened after we went for a walk this morning…"

I smiled. "History doesn't have to repeat itself."

We both began slowly moving out into the cold night air. Most of the crowd has disolved and all that were left were some official looking people and a couple of teachers.

Charlie and I walked past them, and before I realized, we were walking the long way back to the dorm.

"Silence is deafening," Charlie said eventually as we walked beneath an ivy-strewn walkway.

I nodded. "I never thought talking would be this hard…"

Charlie cleared his throat as we kept walking, our shoes scuffing the ground, making the only sounds between us.

"Wait," Charlie said suddenly, putting his arm out to stop me.

I stopped. "What is it?"

He lifted his head skyward and shrugged. "I have no idea."

"I don't want to force you to do anything, ok? I just want you to do what's right."

Charlie dropped his hockey bag and grabbed my face, smothering my lips with his eager kisses. His tongue roamed my mouth and I responded readily. My hands caressed his waist, pulling him close to me so our bodies touched.

This was a major turn-on.

I ran my good hand through his hair, lightly tugging at the hair on the back of his neck as his hands slid up my back, under my t-shirt.

I moaned lightly into his mouth and he sprang back, as if burned or bitten.

"Charlie – what?"

"I – I don't know if I'm g—gay."

Phew, at least he didn't tell me to piss off.

I stepped back, leaning up against the stone wall of the walkway.

"I just…kissing you feels good…" Charlie began. "But, I just don't understand…I went out with Linda, Marci, Gretchen, Hilary…"

I took his hands and pulled him a bit closer to me. "I went out with Bradi, Talisa, Bonnie…I felt the same when I thought I was liking boys…"

He pulled his hands away and began to pace. "Banks, this is all weird to me, I'm not like you, and I haven't felt this way for however long you have. I'm kinda freaking out here."

I nodded. "I get that, Charlie. But I'm here to help you."

He nodded and stopped pacing, his eyes fixed on mine. "Whenever I'm with you, I feel…good, Adam. Really good. And I like this feeling. But I don't know if I'm actually gay."

I got up and went over to him and placed my arms around him. "I'm here for whenever you wanna talk."

I let him go and looked at him. He kissed my lips softly, but I pulled away.

"I don't wanna confuse you."

He smiled. "Adam, I'm already confused as it is."

I cupped his chin with my good hand. "I love you Charlie Conway."

Then I turned and walked away.

**

Tears were streaming down my face as I shut the door to my dorm room. Why, you ask? The man I love had just given me the kiss of a lifetime and here I am sobbing like a girl.

I'm crying because I don't think he'll ever be mine. Not in the way I want him. I want to hold him, kiss him, fall asleep in his arms, do things to him that expresses my love…

Maybe I'd never get him, maybe Charlie Conway would never actually be mine. I sank onto my bed, my vision blurred and I immediately wanted to crawl under my covers and sleep for the rest of my life. But I didn't. I paced, trying to get my head around yet another obstacle that is my life.

I tapped my fingers against my cast, my head a blur with thoughts and reasoning. How many times would I have to do this, to think so completely about my feelings in relation to Charlie? This was becoming monotonous, and stressful.

I was beginning to feel closed in, like the walls to my newly single room were rushing toward me at an invariably fast speed. I needed to get out of there.

I grabbed my jacket and rushed out of my room, down the hall and into the crisp night air. I gulped in huge mouthfuls of air, my heart beating wildly and my hands shaky. Why did he make me feel this way?

"You're not having a heart attack are you?"

I looked up.

"Hey Fulton," I said.

He smiled and grabbed my shoulder. "Well, you're not dying, right?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm not. Even though it sometimes feels as though I am."

He led me over to the stone bench and table and pushed me down. "What are you even doing out here?"

I shrugged. "My room is too small."

He frowned. "Ok…"

"What are you doing?" I asked him, running a hand through my hair.

He shrugged. "Thinking. But you look like shit…what's up?"

I sniffed. "Charlie and I are…messed up."

"Yeah, he told me about your rendezvous this morning…pretty steamy."

I blushed and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. And the one we had about 20 minutes ago…"

Fulton raised his eyebrows. "God…so does this mean you two are…you know?" he smiled and punched my shoulder.

I shook my head. "Far from it. Charlie's confused…"

"Ah," Fulton said knowingly. "That's rough."

I rolled my eyes at him. "No, it's actually a walk in the park."

We sat in silence for a bit before Fulton spoke again.

"I'm gonna go, ok?"

I frowned and looked up. "Ok…"

"Have a good night, Banks."

I nodded and nearly immediately, someone else dropped down into Fulton's seat.

"Charlie…"

"Don't say anything," he said, moving a leg to either side of the bench, mirroring me.

"Ok."

He took a deep breath.

I watched him closely, his eyes shining in the moonlight, his fear and uncertainty evident in their murky depths. He had such a charisma. He was the man I'd wanted to be with before I ever even thought I was gay.

I watched him shake his hair out his face, the light brown waves settling around his face, framing him like a precious photo. I wanted to remember how he looked at that exact moment forever. I wanted to look back in 20 years time and be able to see how he looked.

He clasped his hands nervously in his lap, his eyes roaming to them, his slender fingers entwined together. Beautiful. There was no other way to describe him. Charlie.

I slipped my left hand into his hand squeezed reassuringly.

"I just wanna say something," I began. He didn't stop me. "You're amazing. To me, you're perfect. That's all."

He looked up, his eyes boring into mine, and I could see the tears there. I wanted to kiss them away, to hold him so tightly and love him.

"Charlie, talk to me…"

"Adam – I…"