Page 7 of Rookie Moves

He nods, and I bite back a laugh at how wobbly he is.

I take a seat next to him on the steps and stretch my legs out. A low groan escapes me from the tightness of my muscles, but Colby is too busy staring at the ground to notice.

“What’s a lot? Wanna talk about it?” I ask.

He sucks in a sharp breath, and the word “everything” comes out on a heavy exhale. Like it’s pained and the weight of the world is carried in those three syllables.

“I came to college to be a normal guy, you know? I wanted to go to classes and play hockey and make friends for life. I wanted to make bad decisions I could laugh about later in life and get drunk on cheap beer, but I can’t. I can’t let myself enjoy things because there’s always someone who wants a piece of me.”

He tilts his head toward me, and my breath catches in my throat. His eyes are a little red. Though I think it’s more down to the alcohol mixed with exhaustion than tears, but there’s no missing the defeat in his eyes.

“It’s hard sometimes. I have to be conscious of every single thing I do or say. I don’t think people see me as a person. They see me like…” He waves his hand in the air again, like he’s searching for the right word.

“Like an object?”

“Yeah, it’s exhausting. Then in there,” he continues, nodding his head back toward the house, “all those guys could talk about was the draft and talking about where I might go. I know that they’re excited for me, and don’t get me wrong, I’m so fucking grateful to be in this position, and I don’t take any of it for granted, but sometimes it all becomes…” His words trail off, and his gaze drops back to the ground.

I knew he’s been dealing with the high expectations placed on him, but I assumed he was handling it well. Sure, he’s always been a little guarded, but I didn’t know it was causing him to crumble like this.

Has he been dealing with it alone all this time?

The thought tastes like acid.

“It all becomes too much,” I say, the words coming out like they’re being dragged over gravel.

“Yeah.” He nods. “And there’s so much I wanted to do this year, and I don’t feel like I’m anywhere near achieving any of it because I don’t feel safe.”

A sharp pain constricts in my chest at those last four words, a deep-rooted ache causing my breath to catch.

“Because you don’t know if anyone is genuine?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he answers so quietly, I’d have missed it if I weren’t staring at him.

Before I have the chance to reply, he pushes himself up and shoves his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. The tops of his cheeks and nose are now a deeper pink from the cold air.

“I think I’m gonna go home,” he announces, then takes off down the street.

Quickly jumping to my feet, I start after him. “Let me walk you home? I don’t want you walking alone.”

As the words leave my lips, the door behind us flies open, and a girl with pink hair I recognize from the kitchen all but skips down the steps.

“Sorry, boo! I’m here!” she sings.

I’ve seen her around campus and at some of our home games. I don’t know who she is, but I guess she’s friends with Colby from the way she slips her arm into his and leads him in the direction of his building.

A sense of unease settles in my stomach as I watch them walk away. I don’t want him to leave without making sure he knows he’s safe with me. That I’m here for him, and I’ll always have his back.

Before they get to far, I call out, “Colby.”

They stop walking, and Colby glances at me over his shoulder.

I take a few steps closer, my hands poised in the air, like I’m unsure if I want to grab hold of him or shove them in my pockets.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” I ask, swallowing roughly. “You know I’m always here for you, right?”

He gives me a soft smile, but it doesn’t do anything to hide the sadness in his eyes. “Yeah, I know.”

But as he turns back around, the unsettling feeling grows and there’s a tightness in my chest that makes it a little hard to breathe.