Chapter 3
Ryan opens the door to the small, messy library.
Calling it a library is a stretch, because it's really just a bunch of bookshelves and a couple of tables and chairs.
The room was probably used to store gear at some point.
"Library," Ryan says, waving at the space.
"This is usually where I come on my breaks."
Andriy doesn't look impressed.
He raises his eyebrows as if to say — Seriously?
This is what you wanted to show me?
"It's quiet!" Ryan defends.
"And, look, this window has a great view of the lake!" He kneels on the bench propped under the single window in the room, pointing.
Andriy rolls his eyes, but comes to stand by Ryan's side anyway.
" Ty takoy skuchnyy, Ryan," Andriy says.
You are so boring.
Ryan doesn't understand the words, but the teasing tone comes across pretty well.
He's about to fire back — with what, he isn't sure yet, but it'll definitely be good — when Andriy is distracted and walks to one of the bookshelves, sitting down on his haunches, to peer at the lowest row of books.
" koshenya!
" Andriy coos.
"Is cat!"
Ryan hops off the bench and turns to watch Andriy , who's petting the grey tabby draped over the hockey autobiographies.
"Oh, you found Masha!
Yeah, she's always here too."
"Masha," Andriy repeats, sounding endlessly fond.
He scoops up the cat easily before making his way to the bench, holding her like she's a baby.
Ryan feels a little jealous of the cat, if he's being honest.
Just because, like, he's a human being.
Surely he's more interesting than a cat?
Then Andriy scooches to the side and pats the space next to him, which mollifies him a little.
Andriy does look cute cuddling a cat.
He'd seemed so serious and sad when Ryan had seen him before.
Now he looks like there's nowhere he'd rather be.
"You like animals, huh?" Ryan asks.
"Yes," Andriy says fondly.
"Like animals lots.
Like cat." He scratches Masha behind the ears.
She purrs and stretches out over Andriy's lap, baring her belly and flexing her paws.
"And dog." He pats at Ryan's leg.
Ryan makes an affronted noise.
"I'm not-"
"Yes," Andriy says firmly, shooting that crooked smile at Ryan.
He bumps their shoulders together.
"You are small dog.
Baby dog."
"Puppy?" Ryan guesses.
Andriy nods.
"Is you.
Puppy." He seems proud.
Ryan groans, realizing he basically handed Andriy the ammunition himself.
"I'm not ," he grumbles, but he shifts closer to Andriy anyway.
Just so he can pet Masha too.
They sit like that for a while, the room silent except for Masha's loud purrs.
Their shoulders brush the whole time.
Ryan's ears feel hot.
"Break's probably over soon," Ryan mumbles, checking his watch.
He shows it to Andriy — they have 5 minutes left.
"We should head back."
"Yes." Andriy sighs, reluctantly setting Masha down.
He pets her, and she leans into it before padding off to find a new nap spot.
"You... come, learn my hockey.
I am best.
I make you good."
Ryan snorts as he stands up, kicking at Andriy's shin.
"You're so mean," he says with a grin.
Andriy just shrugs.
"Is true.
I am best." He quickly books it when Ryan makes an affronted sound and tries to tackle him, and their laughs echo all the way down the hallways and stairs.
By day three, Andriy and Ryan are inseparable.
No one else seems to get their friendship, because they can't communicate all that well yet.
No one else seems to like their friendship either.
The latter is mostly because when allowed to choose, they will always choose to play on the same team.
And when they do that, they win.
It's almost a guarantee.
Unfortunately, they aren't allowed to choose too often anymore.
Andriy is peering at a mini dictionary in his hands.
"S... scared," he sounds out.
"Yes." He snaps the dictionary shut.
He gestures towards the coaches.
"Scared of us.
We are too good."
Ryan had used up most of his allowance on a mini English to Ukrainian dictionary for himself and its Ukrainian to English counterpart for Andriy.
Andriy had very begrudgingly accepted the latter, but he uses it all the time, so Ryan maintains that it was a good purchase.
"To be fair, we barely let anyone else play last game.
It was a total shut out." Ryan tries very hard not to be selfish with the puck, but sometimes he forgets himself.
When there's a goal he knows he can make, he just has to make it.
It doesn't help that Andriy is the same, and they just make each other so much worse.
"If other team want to win... play better." Andriy shrugs.
Ryan snorts and shoves Andriy in the shoulder.
"You're mean," he informs Andriy.
"Mean," Andriy sighs dramatically.
"Annoying.
Only two words you teach me.
I ask you teach me bad words.
No. Just 'mean', 'annoying'."
"I'm not teaching you bad words," Ryan says firmly.
"You're good enough at being annoying on the ice as is."
"Is useful," Andriy says.
"Make other team lose."
"Yeah, until we play ten year olds and you make them cry or something.
And everyone will get on my case for being a bad influence!" Ryan huffs.
Andriy smiles beatifically.
It's that angelic smile and those golden curls that let him get away with half the stuff he pulls, Ryan thinks.
What a menace.
Ryan can barely hide his smile when Andriy just winks at him and drags him back onto the ice to practice backhands.