“Let me know,” he repeats and steps toward the door in the boards.
“Yes, Coach,” I promise quietly. I’m not sure he even hears me.
I watch as he steps onto the ice. After a few minutes, I make my way into the stands and sit in the front row just off to the side of Winslow’s net to watch. My heart jumps when I see Noah look my way. He nudges Wiliker and nods in my direction. Both give me big grins and waves.
They’ve never waved at me before. My face burns and I wonder if they can see it from here. I sink a little lower in my seat, but raise my hand in response. I’d never be rude to them.
I watch the remainder of practice as if from afar. While Hugo always has much more of my attention than literally anyone or anything else, I make a concentrated effort to look at everyone. Noah and Wiliker aren’t the only ones that seek me out. There’s a moment on the ice where several players nudge each other and point to me.
They always meet my eyes with wide smiles. I’m not sure I can crouch down in my seat any more than I am. I’ve been invisible most of my life. Ienjoybeing unseen because it doesn’t force me to try to socialize. When I’m not faced with another person, never mind a group of people, my social anxiety doesn’t have me in a vice grip until I can’t breathe and the world spins like a top.
And yet, warmth floods me. I had no idea that they even realized I was here. Most of the time, they walk by me without looking my way. Unless Hugo says hi and they’re close. Then Ireceive a startled look, but it’s usually followed by something friendly, even if it’s just a nod of their head and a smile.
Being seen is a double-edged sword. I’m overcome to learn they look for me. Even if my presence is a superstition of theirs, they notice when I’m not here. For the first time ever, my breath feels heavy because maybe I matter to someone. Someone outside of my family.
Not that I’m under the impression we’re friends. Or that they’d care outside of this capacity, but it’s still more than I’ve ever had before.
Another first for me is as the team heads for the chute, every single one of them looks at me. They smile, wave, say hi. I can’t catch my breath. I’m not sure they can ever understand what their kindness means to me.
It’s probably difficult to tell as I literally try to melt into the floor and have likely turned as red as a fire engine while I choke over my responses back.
I’m breathless when Hugo stops. He doesn’t just say hi on his way by, butstops. “Hey, Torin,” he says, a big grin beaming right at me. “Glad you’re here.”
“Hi,” I squeak back and try to subtly clear my throat. “Thanks.”
“You ready for the first game next week?”
I nod.
“Have some new seal moves?” I didn’t know his smile could get bigger, but I think it just did.
I shrug. “There’s only so much a seal can do.”
He laughs. “I guess. We didn’t think you were going to make it in today.”
“I’m always here,” I say and then realize how creepy that sounds.
“Here where we canseeyou,” he corrects, adjusting his weight to his other leg.
“Sorry,” I murmur.
He shrugs. “You do what you gotta do. We get it. Anyway, see you tomorrow?”
I nod, trying to ignore the way my stomach flutters violently. It takes me nearly chanting to myself that Hugo is talking about seeing me here. At the arena. For practice. Nothing else. Iwillnotread into it!
Once everyone’s gone—Ajo is the last off the ice this time and gives me a smile that I interpret asI’m glad you finally see—I get up and move onto the ice to gather the pucks. They’re not scattered around today since they ended with a scrimmage. Still, I enjoy this time alone as I shuffle along in the chill. If for no other reason, it helps to cool my burning cheeks today.
I bet no one here knows what I actually look like. They only ever see me when I’m burning up or inside a seal costume. Would they be able to pick me out of a lineup?
Today, I don’t hang around in my office. There’s nothing to do there. Nothing at all! I prepared for our first game far in advance, so now I’m very obviously just creeping. So I don’t hurry on the ice and I stop in my office to strip off my hoodie and hat because it’s definitely not cold outside this building, then I turn off my lights and close up.
The hall is filled with voices echoing from the locker room. I hurry ahead before someone catches up and I’m forced to attempt not to swallow my tongue. Ilovethat they all look for me. It means a whole lot more than it should since I understand hockey players are superstitious, and it doesn't have anything to do withme. But it still means a lot.
All this time, I thought Hugo was the only one who really knew who I was. The only one who actually saw me at all anywhere. But at least when they’re on the ice, they all look for me.
Maybe they look for me elsewhere, but I’ve perfected my superpower of being invisible. And only Hugo can see through it.
The thought makes me smile as I step outside into the warm L.A. afternoon. I take a deep breath. I can’t say that the air is clean or fresh, exactly. It’s L.A., smog and pollution abound. But it’s outside air. That’s something, right?
