Blue Ticks

Sixteen: Late Night Texts

Kai's POV

The playbook wasn't going to read itself.

Kai had been staring at the same defensive formation for the better part of an hour, the diagram swimming every time his focus drifted, which was constantly. The coach had sent it over after dinner with a note that said study this before Thursday and Kai had opened it immediately like the responsible captain he was supposed to be and then proceeded to think about approximately everything except hockey.

He closed the laptop at 10:47.

Pushed back from his desk and stretched, his back cracking in two places from sitting hunched over for too long. The house was quiet. His mom had gone to bed early, her bedroom door closed at the end of the hall, the thin strip of light underneath it, already dark. He moved through the quiet in just his socks, down the stairs and into the kitchen, where the overhead light felt too bright so he turned it off and used the one above the stove instead.

The fridge had leftover rice from dinner, some chicken his mom had made earlier in the week, hot sauce on the door. He pulled it all out and set a pan on the stove, moving on autopilot, the ritual of late night food something he'd been doing since middle school when the nights started feeling too long to sleep through.

He put his phone on the counter while the pan heated.

Opened his music. Scrolled for a second before landing on something he'd been going back to lately, a track that had that specific quality of feeling bigger than the room it was playing in. One man can change the world. He'd heard it first in the locker room two seasons ago, someone's pregame playlist, and it had stayed with him the way certain songs did, not because of the words exactly but because of what it felt like to listen to it when you were carrying something heavy and needed to remember it wasn't permanent.

He turned the volume low. Just enough to fill the kitchen.

The rice hit the pan and sizzled.

He stirred it once, twice, then picked up his phone.

He'd been thinking about Lila since the darkroom that morning.

That wasn't new exactly. He'd been thinking about Lila with some regularity since approximately the third time he'd found her somewhere she wasn't supposed to be and she'd looked at him like she was already three steps ahead of whatever he was about to say. But today had been different. Today he'd laid out everything he'd been piecing together and watched her keep her face perfectly still in that way she had, and instead of feeling like he was getting closer to an answer it had made him feel like the question was bigger than he'd thought.

It's complicated.

Two words. The most honest thing she'd offered and she'd known it wasn't enough and offered it anyway. Like she wanted to tell him something real and had gotten to the edge of it and stopped.

He stirred the rice again.

Picked up his phone.

Put it down.

Picked it back up.

Kai: okay random question. if you could live anywhere that wasn't here where would you go

He sent it and set the phone face down on the counter. Turned back to the stove. Added the chicken. The kitchen smelled like hot sauce and rice and the specific comfort of eating at midnight when the rest of the world had clocked out.

His phone buzzed.

Lila: that was fast. you've been sitting on that one

He smiled at the counter.

Kai: maybe. answer the question Voss

Lila: somewhere cold but not this kind of cold. like mountain cold. where the quiet actually feels quiet and not just like everyone went inside and left you out there alone

He read it twice. Then a third time.

She did that. Said things that sounded simple on the surface and had something else underneath them if you were paying attention. He was always paying attention.

Kai: that's a good answer

Lila: I know. your turn

He leaned against the counter, watching the pan.

Kai: somewhere with a rink obviously

Lila: obviously

Kai: but also somewhere nobody knew my name yet. where I was just a guy who plays hockey instead of the guy who plays hockey. you know?

Lila: the difference between a thing you do and a thing you are

Kai: exactly that

Lila: yeah. I know that feeling more than you'd think

He believed her without knowing exactly why. Something about the way she said it, flat and certain, like it wasn't a bid for sympathy just a fact she'd made her peace with.

He plated the food. Grabbed a fork. Moved to the kitchen table and sat down, his phone propped against the salt shaker.

Kai: okay your turn. ask me something

Lila: what's something you're good at that has nothing to do with hockey

He chewed. Thought about it genuinely.

Kai: cooking actually. like real cooking not just reheating stuff. my grandma taught me when I was a kid

Lila: that's not what I expected

Kai: what did you expect

Lila: I don't know. something more captain-y. like leadership or time management

Kai: I'm also good at those but they're boring answers

Lila: cooking is a good answer

Kai: what are you good at that has nothing to do with photography

The pause was longer this time. He ate another forkful of rice and waited.

Lila: I'm good at knowing when people are lying

He set his fork down.

Kai: yeah?

Lila: you learn to read people when you spend a lot of time watching them through a lens. after a while you can see it even without the camera

Kai: what does it look like. when someone's lying

Lila: it looks like someone telling the truth but leaving a door slightly open behind them. just in case they need to walk back through it

He stared at that message for a long moment.

The song shifted in the background, something quieter now, just piano and a voice doing something patient and unhurried. Outside the kitchen window the snow was coming down again, soft and steady, catching the light from the street lamp at the end of the driveway.

He thought about what she'd just described.

He thought about whether she was talking about other people or herself.

His phone buzzed again. Different conversation this time.

He switched over.

Jules: okay I literally cannot sleep. this bedroom is a time capsule and it's freaking me out a little

He exhaled through his nose. Switched gears.

Kai: what's in there

Jules: a poster of a band I have zero memory of liking. like forty horseback riding trophies which honestly tracks. and Kai there is a photo of us at elementary school graduation on my desk and I forgot it existed

Kai: the matching ties

Jules: YOUR MOM PICKED THOSE OUT AND YOU KNOW IT

Kai: she was very proud of us

Jules: we were eleven! why did we need ties!

Kai: because it was a special occasion apparently

Jules: we looked so ridiculous. I love that photo so much actually. A pause. I really missed you. Like actually missed you Kai. Not just in a general homesick way. You specifically.

He looked at that for a moment. Jules said things directly, always had. It was one of the things he'd always appreciated about her and occasionally found overwhelming.

Kai: missed you too Jules. genuinely.

Jules: okay good. now that that's established. please tell me Moretti's pizza is still open because I need something good to be true about coming back

Kai: still open. got worse though

Jules: NO. Moretti's was an institution

Kai: new owners. different sauce. I'm sorry

Jules: this is genuinely devastating news. okay I need to process this. goodnight

Kai: goodnight Jules. glad you're back

Jules: me too

He switched back to Lila.

She'd sent two messages while he was gone.

Lila: still there or did the playbook finally win

Lila: actually don't answer that. go study. I'll survive

He smiled.

Kai: still here. sorry. got pulled away for a second

Lila: it's fine. I should sleep anyway. this essay isn't happening tonight

Kai: wait. one more question

Lila: Kai

Kai: do you think it's possible to know someone really well and still not really know them at all

The pause this time was the longest one of the night. He finished the last of his rice. Carried the plate to the sink and rinsed it, phone balanced in his other hand, watching the screen.

Lila: yes

One word. No hesitation.

Kai: you didn't have to think about that

Lila: some things you already know the answer to before someone asks

He leaned against the sink. The kitchen was quiet except for the music, still going low in the background. Outside, the snow had settled into a steady fall, the kind that would cover everything by morning and make the world look clean and temporary.

Kai: who are you thinking about when you say that

Another long pause.

Lila: goodnight Rivera

Kai: that's not an answer

Lila: I know. goodnight.

He stood there for a moment with his phone in his hand and the water still running and the snow coming down outside.

Then he turned off the tap. Turned off the stove light. Stood in the dark kitchen for a second letting his eyes adjust.

Jules was two miles away in her childhood bedroom, surrounded by the physical evidence of every year he'd known her. She fit back into this town the way she fit back into conversation with him, easy and immediate, like the time had just folded over itself and disappeared.

Lila was somewhere across the neighborhood with her French Revolution essay and her camera and whatever she was carrying that she hadn't found a way to put down yet. She didn't fit into anything easily. She existed at the edges of things by choice, watching, knowing, keeping her own counsel.

He'd asked if you could know someone well and still not really know them.

He hadn't been asking about Jules.

He'd been asking about himself. About the fact that he'd been watching Lila Voss for weeks now and somehow every conversation left him feeling like he'd gotten closer and further away at the same time.

He went upstairs.

Got into bed.

Lay there with the ceiling and the sound of snow and the music still faintly audible from his phone on the nightstand.

One man can change the world.

He'd always liked that idea. Not because he thought he was that man, he was eighteen and from a small hockey town and his problems were regular-sized regardless of how they felt from the inside. But because it meant that ordinary people in ordinary kitchens eating late night rice and texting girls who kept their faces still and their cards close could still matter in some direction or another.

He thought about Lila not answering his last question.

He thought about the door she'd described. Open just slightly. Just in case.

He fell asleep still thinking about it.

Which was, he was beginning to understand, exactly what she'd intended.