Page 53 of Thin Ice

"I'm showing—"

"Russell James."

The phone disappeared into his pocket.

Aunt Sheryl was asking Alex about his major from her end of the table. Danny, beside her, had been sliding beers down to Alex without asking, because asking would require talking. Grandpa spoke for the second time all night. "Smart answer," he said, when Alex told Sheryl he hoped he wouldn't be a politician.

I was in the middle of it. Arguing with Uncle Russ about the defensive line while Deb shook her head. Getting my posture corrected by Grandma from six seats away. Handing my mom the serving spoon when she reached across me for it. My family, my kitchen, the noise I grew up in.

Then Maddie said it.

She'd been quiet for almost four consecutive minutes, which was a personal record. She was sitting next to Alex, her chair pulled close, her plate half-finished. She turned to him with her fork in one hand.

"Are you Liam's boyfriend?"

The table went quiet. Uncle Russ stopped mid-chew, a piece of ham hanging off his fork. Aunt Deb's hand found his arm. Grandma looked up from her plate. My mom kept cutting her ham and didn't look up. Sam sank two inches lower in his chair.

Alex looked at Maddie. Twelve years old. Ponytail. Waiting.

"Yeah," he said. "I am."

One second.

"Cool," Maddie said. "Do you row too?"

"I do," Alex said.

"Is it hard?"

"It's the hardest thing I've ever done."

"Harder than gymnastics?"

"I don't know. I've never done gymnastics."

"Gymnastics is harder," Maddie said, and went back to her plate.

Uncle Russ looked at Aunt Deb. She squeezed his arm. His face went through confusion, processing, then a big, slow nod. He picked up his beer.

"So anyway," he said. "Fourth quarter. Thurman Thomas—"

The dinner kept going. Russ talked about the Bills. Deb told him to stop. Sheryl asked for seconds of her own casserole. Danny opened another beer at the far end of the table. Grandma corrected Maddie's elbows. My mom got up to check the pies, squeezing past three chairs to get to the oven.

Nobody left. Nobody's face changed. The word boyfriend had been said and the room had absorbed it the way it absorbed everything else. Like noise. Like family.

I sat there with the ham and the mismatched plates and the eleven people crammed around a table built for six, and the everything I'd been dreading since the bus ride home was happening around me, and a seventh-grader had handled it better than I ever could have.

Alex caught my eye across the table. He was wearing my crew-neck, and Russ was talking his ear off, and Maddie was pulling on his sleeve to ask another question, and he looked at me over all of it and nodded.

Stay. Please just stay.

Chapter 14: Alex

Maddie asked me about rowing for the next few minutes while everyone talked around us.

Not politely. Not the way adults ask, where they're really just waiting for you to finish so they can talk about themselves. She asked the way a twelve-year-old asks. Relentless. No regard for whether you've swallowed your food. She was sitting beside me with her chair pulled so close that our elbows kept bumping, and she was pointing at me with her fork while she chewed.

"How fast does the boat go?" she asked.