He’s awake, blue eyes stark against his light blond hair and pale face. Dark smudges beneath those haunted eyes tell me his night was as sleepless as mine. He’s a shell of the energetic kid I saw two days ago at practice. Lying on his side, he’s hunched over, making himself as small as possible. It all hits me like a blow to the chest. I know what this is. I’ve been here before myself. Drowning in self-loathing and shame. For a minute, it feels as though I’m there again, just watching him. Except there wasn’t anyone looking out for me back then. That pulls me back to the present, because I was there. Damon was there. And I can be here now. Like my dad was for me.
“Cap” is all he says, refusing to meet my gaze. Silence fills the room, and in that moment, I decide that nothing I plan to say will be right. Instead, I sit down in the chair beside the bed, and I open up the wounds of my past, knowing it’s time to excise them.
“I know you’re feeling like no understands what you’ve been through.” I tell him with a surprising amount of calm.
His head jerks up, and he meets my gaze for the first time. The anguish in his eyes is so familiar it cracks my heart right open.
“I doubt it. Not sure anyone could beat my stupid.” Mortification practically oozing out of him. I hate how much I can relate.
“Not true. Happened to me too.” It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud since I told my dad. None of us rookies ever talked about it. The humiliation of it was too painful to admit. I never even told Walker. But now it needs to be said. He needs to know he’s not alone. He needs to know he can get past this.
“It did?” I see a glimmer of hope appear as he moves to sit up against the headboard. Progress.
“Yup. Bell and Kaminsky. A couple of other guys that aren’t on the team anymore.” Their names cause his face to cloud with anger, but that’s better than shame.
“I can’t go back, Cap. There’s no way. Everyone saw. Everyone, Cap.” He says in a wobbly voice, face drawn tight even as his hands shake.
“Fuck!” he yells and throws his plastic water cup across the room. It bounces off the wall, knocking the lid loose and spilling a puddle onto the floor. His eyes are glassy, and he looks shattered.
“The thing is Austin.” I use his name because he needs to know I see all of him right now, not just my teammate. “You can go back and you will.”
He looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind, so I continue because this is what my dad said to me. I was furious with him for saying it, but he was right. I never would have been able to move forward without him.
“You’re gonna go back, even though it’s gonna be one of the hardest things you’ll ever do. And you’re gonna do it for a couple of really important reasons.” I use my dad’s matter-of-fact voice because this poor kid’s hurting bad, and he doesn’t need even a sliver of imagined judgment to make it worse.
“First, you’re gonna do it for yourself because you worked your ass off to get here. Because you are an incredibly talented player and because they don’t get to take that from you. You earned that.”
I see him shake his head as if he’s going to disagree, so I hold up a hand to stop him. I won’t let him get down on himself, and there’s more that needs to be said.
“Secondly, you’re gonna do it for this team. Not for Bell, but for all the rest of us. Because we have a chance this year to do something amazing and you’re a big part of that.”
“Pfft. You mean Walker.”
“I mean you. Walker’s a phenomenal player, but he’s only one guy. Which is really the point right? Because not to be totally cliche but there’s no I in team.” He rolls his eyes at that one, but the side of his mouth quirks up slightly.
“Look Austin, we need you. And you need us too. I want Bell off this team as much as you do. I’m going to do everything I can fix that. GM and Coach are well aware of his behavior and I have faith that something will be done. But that’s not the point.”
“Look, not that I don’t believe you, but they haven’t stopped it yet. I won’t let them do this to another round of rookies, Cap. I can’t. That’s not the kind of guy I am.” Now he’s sitting up straighter and sounds more confident. The kids got more strength than he realizes. I just need to help him find it. I’m not a bit surprised. You don’t get to this level without it.
“I agree, Camps.” I pause for a moment to see if he’s got more to say, but he just nods.
“So thirdly, Fuck those guys. Fuck. Those. Guys. They don’t get to win, Camps. I won’t let them and you won’t either.That’snot the kind of guy you are.“ I might have gotten loud with that last part, but seriously, fuck those guys.
“Besides,” I add as an afterthought. “No way could you give up hockey. It’s in your blood, like it’s in mine. In all of ours.”
He chuckles, and it feels like somehow I’ve gotten through. There’s an absurd amount of relief and satisfaction in that.
“Yeah, I’m not giving up hockey for those assholes.” His voice is stronger now, and he’s looking me in the eye without flinching again.
His face lights up with that signature smile of his. It’s not as bright as it used to be, but then again, he’s not the guy he used to be, but I’m not letting him get lost. He’s coming back from this because he’s just too damn good to quit, and I don’t mean just at hockey.
We bullshit for a while, talking about hockey and life. I keep things light, especially after our heart to heart, until I have to leave for the arena. He’s going home today, but Coach has given him a couple of days to heal up per the team doc’s orders. I have no idea how bad it was, and honestly, just thinking about it makes me wince.
I’m so much lighter walking back to my car than I was walking in. I’m starting to realize that he needed to hear about my experience just as much as I needed to tell him. In fact, it may have been more healing for me at this point. I’ve used that experience to hold me back from so much in my life, and it’s time for that to stop.
Liam
The gloomy clouds and a forecast of rain fit the mood of the day. There’s an unexpectedly chilly breeze that sends goosebumps skittering up my arms, announcing fall’s arrival in Denver. The towering glass walls of the arena entrance are a dull gray without the sun to brighten them.
