“Dude. Shouldn’t you be wearing, like, one of those rainbow jerseys?”
“Nice, Petey. I haven’t seen you for two years or whatever, and you open with gay jokes?”
His face fell. “You know that’s only gallows humor, right?Shit. I saw those articles, and I thought you must be climbing under a rock right about now. You didn’t even like talking to the high school newspaper about our games. Always made me do it.”
That shut me up for a second, because I’d never taken Petey for the perceptive type. But he was right about that. I had always let him speak for the team. “It hasn’t been a fun month.”To put it mildly.
Petey chuckled. “The Saint B’s coach sounds like a real dick. The guys on my team are all glad they don’t skate for him.”
“Yeah. Wish I hadn’t made that mistake.”
“We could have used you here, you know. Still wish you’d committed to Vermont.”
Me too, buddy. Our conversation lagged then, as I sunk under the weight of my own shitty decision-making.
“You know…” Petey paused. “You never told me. I mean… I noticed that Skippy became a hockey fan. And I knew you two were tight. But you didn’t say anything.” His blue eyes were troubled. “I wouldn’t have… I dunno… been a jerk about it.”
Heaving a sigh, I apologized. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. But I also never told you why I moved to Vermont for sophomore year. And that’s because my parents basically kicked me out of their house.” Petey winced. “…And it washigh school, dude. Nobody wants to fly the freak flag, you know. But Ilovedplaying on that team with you. The rink was a bullshit free zone.”
“Hope it was,” he said. “I kind of wish I could rewind all the things I said for three years. I’m pretty sure there were fag jokes.”
I shrugged. “Skippy makes fag jokes. His are more accurate, though.”
Petey laughed, and then I felt a little better. Then, two more of my high school teammates came out of the Vermont locker room. “Dude!” they yelled by way of a greeting.
At the sound, the visitors’ locker room door opened, and Coach peered out, taking measure of the newcomers. After a long stare, he closed the door again.
“What’s with him?” Petey asked.
“No idea,” I lied.
“I love what you’ve done with the place,” McGarry said with a playful punch to my chest. He was a year behind Petey and me. Behind him was a guy we called J.J.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
McGarry raised his thick eyebrows. “The banners?”
“What banners?”
All three of them laughed. “You’ll see. I think the stands are going to be packed tonight. Even though the semester hasn’t started yet.”
“Really?” That seemed unlikely.
“Too bad they’re all going to see your team get smeared,” J.J. grinned.
“Smack talk much?” I asked.
“The Harkness nerds have had a good run,” McGarry said. “But it’s over.”
“Nice,” I said. “After all the queer jokes I’m getting, you have to bring out the nerd jokes too?”
“If the skate fits…” Petey gave me one more punch to the bicep. “See you out there. But you aint’ gonna win.”
“We’ll see,” I smirked. Then I went back inside, feeling just ashredless anxious than I had before.
—Graham
After the way I left things following our weird little visit in Vermont, Rikker and I weren’t really speaking. (Again. I was going to be eligible for Jackass of the Year for a second year running.) So he didn’t have a clue how tense I felt about this game. That was probably for the best. If I were him, I wouldn’t want to know that my teammates were worried that he’d become a permanent liability.
