“I wish I hadn’t wasted my time worrying about what other people thought. Could have enjoyed that last year more if I’d accepted that.”
The weight of his words settles over me. He’s right, of course. I’ve been focused on controlling the narrative and making myself miserable in the process.
Coach moves back around his desk, settling into his chair. “I’m not saying you have to do anything. But Drew, you’re one of the smartest players I’ve coached. You read the ice better than anyone. So why aren’t you reading this situation?”
Because I’m scared.“Can I ask you something?” I fidget with the hem of my practice jersey. “When did you know? With Gavin?”
Coach’s eyes go distant, remembering. “First practice sophomore year. He showed up late, still drunk from the night before, and puked in a trash can. Should have been disgusted. Instead, I helped him to the locker room and realized I’d do anything for that idiot.”
“That’s weirdly romantic.”
“Love’s weird, Drew. It doesn’t follow rules or make sense. Sometimes it’s watching your friend throw up, other times, it’s sharing a blanket after freezing your asses off for charity.”
I groan, covering my face. “You saw the blog post.”
“Alex showed it to me. I’ve seen all the others too. Even the ones from last semester.” He stands, signaling the end of our talk. “Drew, you’ve got two choices. Let this gossip consume you until it affects your game and your relationships. Or face it head-on, figure out what you want, and go after it the same way you go after the puck.” He opens his office door. “Now, get out of here. And Drew? Maybe shower first. You smell like a gym sock fucked a hockey bag.”
“Charming, Coach.”
“I try.” He pauses, expression serious again. “Whatever you choose to do, the team and I have your back. Just don’t let fear decide for you.”
I nod, throat tight with an emotion I don’t know how to name. “Thanks, Coach.”
Leaving his office, I’m more confused than when I entered. Coach and Gerard’s dad. Skater Boy. Dick-tugging fingers.
The idea that Coach went through something similar, finding love with a teammate despite the gossip and speculation, makes me wonder. What if I’ve been looking at this all wrong? What if the universe isn’t playing a cruel joke but trying to show me something I’ve been too scared to see?
I strip off my gear, each piece hitting the bench with a wet thud. Tomorrow, I’ll have to face the campus again. Face Jackson. Face whatever this is between us.
My phone buzzes in my gear bag.
Gerard
Movie night at the house. You better be there or I’m sending out a search party.
Also Kyle made brownies and if you don’t come Nathan will eat them all.
Also also we’re not watching The Notebook again no matter how much you beg.
I snort despite myself. I didn’tbegto watchThe Notebook. I simply suggested it as a classic piece of cinema that everyone should appreciate. The fact that it made me bawl my eyes out is completely irrelevant.
Me
I’ll be there. Save me a brownie.
Gerard
Get here fast. Nathan’s already drooling.
I pocket my phone and head for the showers. Coach is right. It’s time to stop running and figure shit out.
PART II
FEBRUARY
14
DREW
