“How long?” he asked.
Again, Shane knew the only possibly acceptable answer would be “this was the first time.”
“Years,” Shane said, and didn’t elaborate.
Coach inhaled sharply. “Go home. I will talk to management and we’ll decide what to do with you.”
“Am I...benched?”
“Yes, you’re fucking benched, Hollander!” Coach roared. “What did you think would happen?”
Shane’s whole body went rigid. He wanted to scream back in his coach’s face. He also wanted to disappear.
Coach sighed. “This order comes directly from Crowell. You andRozanov.” He said the name like it was a particularly vulgar slur. “Until this gets dealt with, you’re both sitting.”
“Dealt with?”
“And don’t even think about posting anything online about this. No statements. You’re in enough trouble already.”
“But—”
“Go home,” Coach said again.
Realizing that arguing would be pointless right now, Shane left quickly. He considered leaving his coat in the locker room, but it had his car keys in the pocket.
Everyone stared at him when he walked back into the locker room. No one even tried to hide it.
Shane spread his arms wide. “Okay. Now you know. It’s been going on for years and it’s never stopped me from contributing to this team.” He deliberately used the wordcontributing; a massive understatement. “We won the fucking cup last year.”
“It’s fucked up,” someone said. Shane turned. It was Comeau.
“You think I don’t know that?” Shane said. “That’s why I’ve been hiding it for so long.”
“Not from everyone,” J.J. said angrily.
Shane took a step toward him, “J.J., I—”
“Don’t want to hear it,” J.J. said. “Is Coach sending you home?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Then fuck off and go home.”
There were murmurs of agreement throughout the room. Shane’s eyes prickled with tears. He’d expected this, but he’d also...hoped for better from this group of guys that he loved so much.
“Hey,” said Hayden, standing up. “I know that everyone is fucking weirded out right now, but try to remember who the fuck this is. Shane is our fucking captain. Our leader.”
“He’s a fucking liar,” J.J. said.
“He’s our fuckingfriend,” Hayden said sharply. “So maybe everyone feels weird right now or, like, totally grossed out. I get it. It’s Rozanov.”
“Okay, thanks, Hayden,” Shane said.
“But that weirdness goes away, and then you’re going to have to live with how shitty you were to Shane when he needed his fucking boys the most. So think about that.”
There was some muttering that didn’t exactly sound like agreement.
“It’s okay,” Shane said. “I’m leaving. If anyone wants to talk to me, you have my number.” He locked eyes with J.J. “You know where I live.”
