A grin spreads over my face when I pull out a tiny blue duck. My birthday was last month, and my friends threw me a huge duck themed surprise party. I had an enormous duck cake and little duck cupcakes. There were rubber ducks of all sizescoveringmy house and yard. And just to prolong my fun, they hid something like 250 tiny ass little ducks all over the place. I think I’ve only found like 100. I’m probably going to be finding them for the next three years.
They promised they didn’t hide them anywhere dangerous, though. Like in my grill or oven or food. Only harmless places.
Winny chuckles. “Still finding them, huh?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think I’ve even found half of them,” I admit. “I don’t mind, though. They always make me laugh.”
What I don’t tell anyone is that I have a shelf in one of mykitchen cabinets where I keep them all. They’re lined up in order of color. Every time I find one, I add it to the collection. Atty said I could just throw them all away, but… I keep them. Because every time I look at them, I remember how my friends went all out for me. They’re the best friends a guy could have. I know how lucky I am.
Chapter Two
TORIN JONAH
I don’t needto be here for practice. I choose to be because I can watch Hugo without anyone questioning me why I’m not dancing around and making a fool of myself dressed as a seal.
I’m used to being invisible. In fact, I like it that way. I don’t know if it’s social anxiety or just extreme awkward shyness, but I freeze up whenever someone talks to me. I’ve been told therapy can help get me out of it but… even that feels too big.
One of the reasons I have a job as a mascot is so I can hide. No one is looking atme. They’re looking at Surry the Seal. When I’m Surry, I’m a different person. In fact, I’m not a person at all. I’m a character. I’m playing a part.
There’s a lot of freedom in that, and I enjoy it a lot. Knowing that no one sees me allows me to relax and enjoy what I’m doing.
It’s not a career, I know that. Management has found a bunch of things for me to do that’s behind the scenes since being the mascot is less than a part-time job. Not only am I Surry for only half the games, but it’s a few hours three or four nights a week.
Finding other work where I wasn’t constantly faced with having to speak to people has been a challenge. I’m very thankful for L.A.’s management. They were so kind to me, understood my plight, and found me enough work to keep me on full-time with little interaction with other people, and on a salary that I can afford a loft apartment at the edge of the city.
When practice is over, I head for the chute and pause to let the players leave. I almost always wait until they’re all gone before I get on the ice and pick up the pucks. This isn’t really on my list of responsibilities, but I don’t mind doing it.
It gives me a reason to hang out and get close to Hugo for just a minute.
Except he and Winslow are still on the ice. They remain there talking for quite a while. I know at this point I’m going to start looking like a creep if I stare. Iamstaring.
Hugo is a big man, made even bigger because of his pads and the height added by his skates. I can’t help but stare at him, wondering what it would be like to be wrapped in his big arms. For him to turn that big smile on me.
My chest aches. I’ve been pining after Hugo Bladen since I started with L.A. two years ago. He was the first one from the team to notice me. Even before that, I was enchanted but the fact he saw me, introduced himself and asked my name? The fact he made an effort toknowme?
There’s really no question at all why I’m in love with this man.
Everything inside me jumps as he and Winslow finally head for the chute. I remain perfectly still. When I do, I tend to blend into the background. It’s like a superpower. As long as I don’t move, I’m a chameleon or an octopus and become a part of my surroundings. This time is no different. Winslow doesn’t notice me.
But Hugo does. He gives me a big smile. “Hi, Torin,” he says.
I feel myself instantly turn as red as a boiled lobster. I’m so hot I can feel the heat radiating from my cheeks. “Hi,” I squeak back, my voice barely audible and definitely embarrassing. Did he hear the way it cracked?
Hugo continues to smile at me as he walks by. When he turns away, I look at Winslow. He, like nearly everyone else who witnesses Hugo saying hi to me, looks at me as if he’s startled that I’m there. He’s a kind guy though, so he smiles and gives me an up nod on his way by.
His acknowledgment doesn’t do as much as Hugo’s. Obviously. But I’m left even more awkward and fidgety that he said hi, too. Doesn’t matter that it wasn’t verbal.Ifsomeone sees me, that’s usually the kind of interaction I get.
I imagine they think I’m antisocial. A loner.
Growing up, that’s how I was treated, too. I’m inclined to believe I do have a form of social anxiety because I much preferred to remain unseen. I had one teacher in fifth grade who was an absolute terror. She went out of her way to embarrass everyone in class.
I was her favorite target.
There was a day right before Christmas break when I came home and immediately had a panic attack. It was so bad, my father took me to the hospital. Once I was able to breathe again, I told him and the emergency doctor what was happening.
The fury my father displayed was alarming. We drove straight back to the school, but he left me in the car, thankfully. He was inside for almost an hour.
After break, I was moved into a different classroom and left alone. The teacher from the previous class, Mrs. Shehe, was suspended or fired or something. I didn’t see her for the rest of the year.
