Thirty minutes later.
The heat from Aiden’s palm, which Riley had shaken earlier, still lingered — surprisingly hot and dry. Fiddling nervously with his fingertips, Riley snuck a glance at the boy—no, the man—sitting across from him at the dining table.
“…….”
Aiden said nothing. His eyes were fixed on his phone, his face unreadable. He looked nothing like the timid boy from years ago. Now, his presence was calm yet chillingly aloof, a quiet pressure that made Riley’s shoulders tense without reason.
Clatter.
“Riley, eat lots,” Clara said brightly, setting steaming pots and plates on the table.
Riley jumped up immediately to help her.
“Oh my, that’s so sweet of you. You don’t have to help, you’re a guest.”
“No, ma’am. We’ll be living together, so I should help.”
In truth, it was easier to busy himself than to sit still under Aiden’s cool, unwavering silence.
“What would you like to drink? Cranberry or orange juice?”
“Cranberry, please. Thank you.”
Clara smiled kindly and poured the juice into a glass. When the meal was finally set, the three of them took their seats.
“Did you two talk a little? Still feeling awkward?” she asked with a teasing grin.
“Haha, well… it’s been a long time since we last met,” Riley replied weakly.
“That’s fine. You’ll have plenty of time to get comfortable. You’ll even be going to school together after summer break.”
In Canada, summer vacation usually runs from late June to early September — which meant Riley would start Grade 12 at his new school next Monday, September 2nd.
“Aiden, Riley’s aiming for the University of Toronto,” Clara said proudly, ladling stew into Riley’s bowl. “He had excellent grades at his previous school, too.”
She turned to Aiden, who looked up lazily.
“He’s still into mushrooms, you know. Remember when you two went mushroom-picking as kids and ended up in the hospital after eating a wild one?”
“Of course I remember.”
Aiden’s lips twitched with laughter. “I almost died, thanks to someone.”
Those clear blue eyes flicked toward Riley with pointed amusement. Startled, Riley ducked his head and buried his face in his stew.
“Oh! That was my fault,” Clara sighed dramatically. “I should’ve stopped you kids. I was so scared back then! It’s lucky you ate a hallucinogenic mushroom, not a poisonous one.”
“I got drunk on that mushroom,” Aiden muttered under his breath, resting his chin on one hand. “And I said something funny, too.”
“Oh? Really?” Clara tilted her head. “What did you say?”
Aiden smiled faintly. “Hmm. Well.”
He tapped the table softly, right in front of Riley. Tap, tap.
“Do you remember, Riley?”
“Uh?”
“What I said that day.”
There was something strange in his voice — not quite teasing, not quite cold — something that made Riley’s pulse flutter nervously. His mind raced, trying to recall what had happened back then.
“Cough! Cough, cough!”
A chunk of onion caught in his throat, and he began to cough violently. Reaching for his juice, he nearly knocked the glass over — until Aiden calmly pushed it toward him.
“Oh—thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Aiden’s expression remained perfectly polite — but his eyes glimmered with something indecipherable.
Bzzt—Bzzt!
Clara’s phone rang suddenly. “Oh, that’s work! Excuse me, I’ll just take this.”
Her voice faded as she left the kitchen. Silence filled the space between the two young men. Desperate to say something, Riley forced out a smile.
“Um… I heard you play ice hockey?”
“So.”
“Oh, right. I saw your game recently. It was amazing. You didn’t seem like the Aiden I used to know.”
Clink. Clank.
No answer. Aiden kept eating quietly, his broad shoulders flexing with each movement. The heavy silence pressed in again.
“Um… Aiden. Be honest. Do I make you uncomfortable?”
Finally, he looked up.
“Honestly, we weren’t exactly close friends. It must be weird to suddenly have me staying here. But I’ll try not to bother you. I’m on the second floor, so we won’t really—”
“Wasn’t it special?”
His quiet voice cut him off.
“Eh?”
How could such a low, calm tone make his heart skip like that?
“I thought of you as someone special, Riley.”
Riley froze. Before he could answer, Clara reappeared, straightening her jacket.
“Oh, something urgent came up at work. I have to step out for a bit. Riley, did you like the food?”
“Huh? Oh! Yes—it was delicious.”
“Good! Then you two finish up. Aiden, you handle the dishes, okay? I’ll be back soon.”
With that, Clara left.
Only Riley and Aiden remained.
Riley hurriedly swallowed the last spoonful of stew and dabbed his mouth with a napkin.
“Your mom must be busy. Working even on weekends.”
“As a lawyer, she adjusts to her clients’ schedules. I’m used to it.”
Aiden leaned back slightly, watching Riley rise from his chair.
“Did you finish eating?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“I’ll take that.”
Knock.
Before Riley could react, Aiden stood and took the plate right from his hands. Their fingers brushed—warm, strong, uncomfortably close. Riley’s breath caught.
“Uh—can I help?”
“It’s fine. Rest.”
“No, let’s do it together.”
He stubbornly picked up another plate, ignoring the wall of muscle blocking his way. Together they began cleaning up in tense silence. There was still stew and poutine left, which Riley carefully covered with plastic wrap.
“Summer vacation ends next week, right? Are you ready for school?” Riley asked, trying to sound casual.
“Nothing special about vacation,” Aiden replied. “Training kept me busy.”
“You really are a hockey player now. I can’t believe it.”
“Why? Did you think I was just a brat who got beaten up by you every day?”
A small smirk curved Aiden’s pink lips. Riley blinked, dumbfounded.
“I still remember,” Aiden murmured, his voice low and playful, “how you whacked me with a hockey stick.”
He’s still holding onto that?
Riley forced a laugh. “Sorry… I didn’t know you’d remember that.”
“Well, thanks to you, I got interested in hockey.”
Interested in hockey… from being hit with a stick? That made no sense.
But before Riley could respond, Aiden’s tone deepened.
“Riley. About what I asked earlier.”
“Huh? What?”
“What I said when I was drunk from those mushrooms.”
Oh, that. Not the hockey stick.
Riley’s heart stuttered.
“Do you really not remember, or are you pretending not to?”
Aiden’s sculpted features hardened. The intensity in his eyes made Riley step back.
“I—I don’t think I remember….”
“Don’t think?”
His voice dropped lower, silk over steel.
“Aiden! If you want an apology, I’ll give one! I was just a kid—”
“It’s important to me,” Aiden said, stepping forward, “so tell me.”
He advanced slowly, cornering Riley against the counter. His body radiated heat, his breath brushing Riley’s cheek. Riley’s heart pounded in panic.
“T-to be honest…”
If I were honest…
“I don’t remember.”
But I did remember.
I remembered exactly what Aiden had said that day — the words that had changed everything.
“Ha.” Aiden let out a soft laugh. “Then I’ll tell you again.”
Riley swallowed hard, unable to breathe.
“I said,” Aiden whispered, his blue eyes unwavering, “I liked you, Riley.”
It felt as though time itself stopped.
Riley’s mind went blank — the memory resurfacing like a stab to the chest.
Aiden McDavid had confessed to him back then.
And Riley had laughed it off. Rejected him. Crushed his young pride without hesitation.
Aiden’s expression didn’t waver now. He spoke with the quiet calm of someone who had rehearsed this moment for years.
“I’ve never forgotten that day. Not once, since moving to Toronto. You never replied to my letters. Not a single one.”
He stepped closer again. Riley, flustered, stumbled backward.
“Wh-what are you—”
Crash!
A plate slipped from the counter and shattered across the floor.
Aiden caught Riley by the shoulders before he could fall, steady and unshaken.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said softly. “That’s not like you.”
“What’s your problem, huh? Why do you keep bringing up childhood stuff!?” Riley snapped, trying to pull away.
“What’s my problem?” Aiden tilted his head, a faint, cold smile curving his lips. “Simple.”
He reached out, brushing aside a stray lock of hair by Riley’s ear, his fingers grazing her skin.
“Riley Yoon,” he murmured.
“…….”
“I’m going to take revenge on you — starting now.”
