Page 32 of Puck Me Twice

I think he is.

But—I tilt my head.

“What’s wrong?” Sven asks.

“What do you have in mind?” I deflect.

“Everyone does couple’s costumes,” he says with a frown.

So he is asking me.

Or—well, he’s presuming I’ll go with him.

He’s right, of course. I’ll go with him. I want to go with him, even beyond the expectation that we are there together.

“Do you want funny, scary, or sexy?” I ask.

Sven wrinkles his nose. “Not scary.”

“We could do a celebrity couple, or someone from a movie, or⁠—”

“I don’t care,” he says. “Whatever you want.”

“No. You don’t get to do that,” I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest. “This may be a fake relationship, but I won’t do all of the emotional labor. We both have to carry the weight.”

He blinks at me. “Okay. All I’m saying is, I don’t have a preference, so whatever interests you, I’m already agreeing to it. You don’t have to run it by me, you can pick whatever you want.”

“That’s still me doing the emotional labor.”

“It is?” He looks genuinely confused.

“Your not caring means that I have to care, because otherwise nobody does and it won’t get done.”

Sven pauses.

“What?” I snap the word more harshly than I intended.

“I never thought of it that way,” he says quietly. “I thought I was helping.”

Some of my coolness thaws. He’s really not trying to be difficult.

“You have to tell me,” he says. When I open my mouth, he lifts his hand. “It’s emotional labor for you to educate me. I realize. But I need you to tell me—one time—and then I won’t repeat the behavior again. I don’t always recognize the patterns until they’re brought to my attention.”

I consider this.

He’s trying. He cares.

“I haven’t been in a relationship for a long time,” Sven says slowly. “I don’t know where the boundaries are here. I like rules. I like structure. And this thing with us…”

I wait.

“I don’t know what the rules are,” he finishes. “I need to know.”

“Well, we’re dating.”

“Yes, but what does that mean?” His eyes are intent on my face. “Do you come to the games? Do you sit in the box, or on the ice, or are you in the pit with everyone? The guys who go out after the game—are we supposed to go with them?”

“Wow. You’re, like, really wigging out.”