Why couldn’t I just be a man and talk to him? We were still best friends. I should talk to him like I always did, but everything seemed different. It was easy to talk to Asher when he was my best friend, but now he was…something else. How would the old Theo even broach the conversation? “Hey, bro! No homo, but I’d love it if you sat on my face.”
Yeah, that was definitely very homosexual and not going to work. I couldn’t think like old Theo anymore. This was new Theo. Theo who liked guys apparently. Well, one guy at least.
Which was fine! It’s 2025, and it wasn’t a big deal to be gay. I was into a dude, and that was okay. It just so happened to be the one dude who meant more to me than anyone else, and the thought of making things weird between us made me paralyzed with fear.
I can’t lose Asher.
It had been days of my trying to say something, and each time I just froze. It was so hard because I didn’t know how he’d respond. Even if he was gay, was he into me? Would it be totally awkward if I told him only to find out the feeling wasn’t mutual? Then where would we be? The boy was now living with me. Would we just try to navigate around that little fact while living in the same house and sleeping in the same bed?
Fuck, I hate how complicated this is!
Coach’s whistle shook me back to reality. “Next two teams,” he called out.
What? Already?
I had watched the entire first game and didn’t register a single moment. My mind was on Asher the entire time. We all skated to center ice. We indicated our primary positions on the new player registration forms, so I wasn’t surprised when Coach told us to get in our usual positions for the scrimmage.
Asher was our center, and his new best friend was right winger. I was familiar with some of the other players through college and youth leagues, but hadn’t played with most of them.
Asher lowered into position, bracing himself for the puck drop.
I wanted Asher to do well. He’d worked so hard for his moment.
The whistle blew as the puck came into contact with the ice. Even from behind, I could see Asher snatching the puck with breakneck speed. That was his gift in hockey; he had reflexes like a fucking cat.
The puck was a dark blur on the ice as it soared to the left winger, but the opposing forward was on him. So, he returned it back to Asher, who pushed forward once he had it.
Asher
My limbs thrummed with adrenaline. Every cell in my body was hyperaware as I raced down the ice with the puck clutched tight on my stick. The sensation of it bouncing against the blade sent tingles through me. Colors seemed brighter, and the sound of skates against ice echoed loudly in my ears. I wasn’t just playing hockey—I was hockey.
Their defense formed a wall just outside the crease, so I passed it to Quincy, playing right wing. He snapped off a quick shot, but it ricocheted off the crossbar, bouncing along the end boards toward the corner. Both teams charged after it, an all-out scrum breaking out in the corner. Their defenseman trapped the puck along the boards, then circled behind the net. Our left winger met him as he skated out, and they fought for possession. The other defenseman and I jumped into the scramble, and I managed to poke the puck loose.
I picked it up and skated wide, looking for an opening. I tried to dish it to Quincy, but their center reached out and poke-checked my stick. The puck skidded across the ice,right to their winger, who snatched it up and sped away on a breakaway. I backchecked like my life depended on it, blazing down the ice after him. Theo was out there in defense—his strides quick—but their center deked left, then cut back in the opposite direction. Theo overcommitted, lost his edge, and stumbled to the ice.
The rest of our forwards scrambled back in the defensive zone. Their center, now in a shootout position, attempted a cross-ice pass to their right wing, but Quincy picked it off. He got trapped in the corner, their left winger throwing a body check into the boards. Our left defenseman and Theo, back on his skates, joined in the scrap for the puck.
The defenseman broke free with control and sent a crisp outlet pass to our left winger. He spotted me at the blue line and flicked the puck my way. The puck connected with my stick, and I was off, my sights set on the goal. I curved left, then swooped in, faking a shot to the blocker side—the goalie bit it. I snapped the puck low to the far corner.
Goal!
I pumped my fist once, then Quincy pulled me into a quick hug. The scrimmage wasn’t over, but I already felt like I’d won. No matter what, I was doing my job — proving to the coaches that I was a force to be reckoned with and deserving of a starting line spot.
Chapter 17
Asher
Silence. Neither Theo nor I said a word as he drove us back to his house after our first practice with the Westchester Warriors. Coach had announced the starting line at the end of practice. I made it; Theo didn’t. I felt terrible. Guilt curled around my lungs, making it hard to breathe. The only reason I was on that fucking team was because of Theo.
I peered over at him as he drove. His eyes looked sad, and it shattered my heart. A sad Theo made me want to cry. Things had been so awkward between us for the last few days, and I didn’t know what I’d done wrong. My gaze turned to the passing trees on the roadside. Guys aren’t supposed to cry, but I wanted to—more than anything.
I love you so much, Theo. Tell me how to fix this.
Suddenly, I blurted out, “Coach said we’d all get our shot. You’re gonna show everyone how fucking amazing you are, man. I’m sure of it.”
He let out a heavy sigh, eyes scanning the road, tired and defeated. “I didn’t play my best today. My head wasn’t in it.”
I knew he was right, but I wanted to lift his spirits. “You didbetter than you think. Everyone’s so good, you know? You were awesome, and I know Coach will give you a shot.”
