“Miles Buckner.”I wrenched out of Morty’s grip.“And let me tell you, he’snota fan of some folks in this locker room.”
“Miles Buckner, the football player?”Zoozoo stared at me.“The BuckTruck is gay?”
“Where’ve you been, Zoo?”Bubs drawled.“Buckner came out, like, a year ago.”
“Fuck.”Zoozoo rubbed a hand across his mouth.“Like, seriously?”
“Yep,” I agreed.
“Ooh, I’m so scared.”Morty curled his lip.“Gonna run and tell the big bad football player to beat me up?”
I laughed.“Nah, I’m not hiding behind Miles.Just saying, no gay guy’s going to take one look at you with Miles in the house.”I managed to stop myself before falling into a camp face-fanning fake-swoon.Grossing out Morty was one thing, but beyond Bubs and Nikki, I wasn’t sure how many of the guys in the room were comfortable with a gay teammate.No need to push them too hard.
Turning my back on all the stares and stripping off the last of my clothes was one of the harder things I’d ever done, but I dropped my jock and shorts, straightened, naked, and headed for the showers.“Come on, guys,” I said without looking back.“We’ve got a game to win tonight.Some of you smell rank.”
“We all stink,” someone said behind me.Stacker pushed past me with a grin and stepped into his own shower.“Literally.Not the way we’re gonna play tonight.”
“Right.”Zoozoo joined us.“Hey, Vally, you think Buckner might be at the game?”
“Probably.”Miles hadn’t said so, when he dropped me off at my apartment in the gray morning gloom, but I knew the man.He’d be out there.
“Cool.I had a poster of that guy on my wall when I was a kid.”
“When, like, six months ago?”I chirped, still carefully staring at the wall in front of me.
“Hey, my plus-minus is even better than yours.I’m coming for you, dude.”I could hear the grin in Zoozoo’s voice.
Behind us Petrov said, “Prove it tonight, Zoozoo.”I could hear other guys coming in, showers going on.Quieter than usual after a practice, but not dead silent.
I rinsed and got out fast, avoiding glances as I booked it out of the showers, toweled off, and dressed.Our rookie defenseman Mannie said, “Hey, we’re cool, okay?”as he passed me on his way out, and I nodded.Rickie tossed a sweaty jock at my head and grinned when I ducked.His expression looked friendly, and he gave me a thumb’s up, so I took it to be our backup goalie’s weird sense of humor, not some gay slur.Wilkie, on the other hand, stretched his legs out as I passed where he was sitting, making me detour around him as I headed for the door.
In the corridor, I paused to catch my breath.Okay.So I did that.With some wins, and some probably-not-wins.I dug out my phone to text Miles, though he’d be in class, when Coach Frazier’s voice behind me said, “Valliere, my office.”
Well, fuck.I turned.Coach’s face was impassive as always, but then he was capable of saying “good job” or “you screwed the pooch” with exactly that same expression.
“Yes, sir.”I followed him down the hall to his door.
Coach Nery, his assistant, already sat in a chair beside Frazier’s spot.Frazier took his usual seat behind the hulking metal desk.He didn’t wave me to a chair, so I stood.
Coach Nery broke the uncomfortable silence with, “A couple of nice goals in the scrimmage there, Valliere.”
I appreciated the effort at defusing.“Thanks.”
Coach Frazier snapped, “And then you fucked up in the locker room.What the hell was that, Valliere?”
“Me trying to make the room better.”I took a breath.“Frankly, it’s been getting toxic the last couple of years.”
“Forgayplayers.”He said it as if the word “gay” tasted bad.
Well, fuck.I’d hoped Coach just didn’t care, not that he was one of the “gays don’t belong in hockey” crew, but I’d picked my path.
“Not just gay players like Dolan and me,” I said, as easily as I could.“Guys like Chesterton.Kid had a shot at being good, I thought, but he quit hockey because having—” I censored names at the last minute.“—having some of his teammates tormenting him about his weight all day and night broke his confidence.”Morty had nicknamed him “Chesty” and given the kid torment about his “man-boobs” and his lack of conditioning, until Chesterton packed in the towel by the end of training camp.
“Chesterton was out of shape,” Coach noted.
“Yeah, some, but he was a goalie.He didn’t need speed.He was flexible, he had good hands, read the plays well for a rookie.He had potential, but by the end, he barely dared make a move for fear of being chirped to death.No, not chirped, bullied.”
Coach’s lip curled.“Hockey’s not for sissies.If he couldn’t stand the heat in training camp, he’d fall apart during the season.”
