The luncheon is everything Ryan dreads and
more. He’s seen it before—all sporting event luncheons are the
same, aren’t they? The banquet hall decked out in the team’s
colors, card tables scattered around the room and draped in white
plastic cloth, the buffet table along one wall. Dante guides Ryan
around the side of the room to the front, where a long head table
with placards is set up for the skate club officials. The
wheelchair can’t possibly fit through the small aisles between the
tables and Ryan doesn’t want to be in the way. “This good?” Dante
asks, stopping at an empty table along the aisle. When Ryan nods,
his boyfriend moves one of the chairs aside and eases him up to the
table. Then he takes the seat across from him and smiles. “You want
me to get you something to eat
