Mark grinds his teeth but doesn’t say anything else.
“What is it with her and goalies?” Wolfe asks.
“I wish I knew,” Mark says.
“But you’re better off, man,” I add. “I’m sure you’ll be happier.”
“I know,” Mark says, and then we are all silenced as the first team is about to announce their pick.
Ktytor is drafted by the Dragons, and we all congratulate him. Seaborn is beaming, so I guess Ktytor in NYC is a good thing in their mind.
It’s some time before Chicago is up for the #2 pick. They say Wolfe, but I must be hallucinating. It can’t be. But all the guys are congratulating him. Goalies are never fucking picked second.
Wolfe pulls me into a hug, and I force myself out of my head, congratulating him. He’s shaking as he goes up to get his jersey.
“Are you okay?” Seaborn asks like I look disappointed.
“Yes, I’m amazing.”
“Maybe tell your face,” Mark says.
I flip him off. “I’m in shock.”
Chicago.
Wow.
I’m speechless and so fucking happy.
Wolfe goes to do photos with the team and interviews.
Finally, my smile catches up with my emotions.
Maybe this is why it’s so long between every draft pick. We all need time to emotionally process what is happening because just when I start to process that we’ll be in Chicago, Seaborn is picked by the Dragons as well. They quickly take Seaborn for all the nonsense, leaving just me and Mark at our table.
We’re still reeling along with the rest of the room when Mark pulls up an article that explains what happened. In a surprise to nearly everyone, the Dragons did some last-minute trading for the third pick and were expecting to take someone else as they thought Seaborn would be scooped up by Chicago second. Sothey jumped at the chance to have both the best defensive player and offensive player of the draft.
Wolfe: Come here. I want to introduce you.
Archangel: Are you sure?
Wolfe: I’m sure.
Wolfe: They told me in private after photos they are cultivating a very queer positive environment in Chicago and the team knows that.
Tears well up in my eyes.I hoped they would be on the less homophobic side considering the way Chicago is as a city in general, but you never know what a team’s culture will be.
I find Wolfe and the members of management there, and he hugs me before introducing me. I shake their hands.
“We don’t know if you’re going to be drafted, and then we can’t really do this, but if you aren’t…” The owner holds up a jersey with my name on the back. “If you want to walk on.”
All I can do is laugh.
“Think about it.”
“I’ll think about it,” I promise.
Wolfe slips his hand into mine. “You could juggle grad school and playing, right?”
