Chapter 21: Quiet

The Wolves won the semifinal four to two, and Mason scored the last goal into an empty net.

The whole arena stood up.

Afterward, the locker room door stayed open, and the team poured out into the hall singing something Nate had written on the bus.

Mason found me by the exit, with his hair wet and his bag over one shoulder.

"Come home with me," he said.

"Out loud first?"

"I said it out loud."

"Then yes."

His apartment was three streets from campus.

It had two sagging beds and a poster of a goalie, and Nate's side was empty because Nate was at Tori's.

Mason shut the door and leaned back on it.

I waited for the voice in my head.

Nothing came.

No bracket, no scrap, no breath of a thought.

"Mason," I said slowly. "I can't hear you."

"I can't hear you either."

"Why?"

"I don't know." He pushed off the door. "Maybe we finally said all of it."

"Or maybe it's the quiet."

"Maybe."

He crossed the room and stopped a foot from me.

His hands came up, and he took my face in them and just looked.

It was strange, to have only his eyes to read.

They were gray and steady, and for the first time I didn't have to guess a single thing.

"I'm going to kiss you," I said.

"Please."

I did.

He tasted like salt and mint gum.

He kissed me slowly, and then not slowly.

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