“Yes, you did. But it still wasn’t the right thing to do,” Nate sighs.
“It’s not just about the Utonagans, though,” I tell him. “I literally had to live your life for two weeks to find out you want to write a book? That you changed the combination of your lock? That you go for morning runs now?”
“Write a book?” he blinks at me in confusion, and I frown.
“It’s what you said in your essay for creative writing? That your life goal is to write a book.”
“Oh, that,” Nate snorts and waves me off. “Professor Fiore is a bit intense about athletes and them not taking college seriously, so I knew he wouldn’t want to read about me winning the Stanley Cup with you,” he grins and elbows me in the ribs.
“Youliedin your essay?!”
“No. I can have more than one life goal, Nicko. First I’ll climb my way up from the Utonagans to the Pioneers. Then I’ll beat you in the playoffs so the Rebels will take me on and we’ll win the Stanley Cup together. And once we’ve done that three more times, I’ll write a book about it.”
I can’t help the hoarse laugh escaping my throat, my heart swelling in my chest.
“I was afraid I didn’t know my own twin, but you’re as dumb as always.”
My brother’s face turns serious at my words. “You’ll always know me, Nicky. I changed my locker combination so the guys would stop fucking with my stuff, and I still hate morning runs. And if that ever changes, you’ll be the first to know,” he explains and I nod, pulling him closer.
We stand in comfortable silence for a moment, just leaning into each other, when suddenly Nate breaks out into a grin. “There’s one thing I’m not sorry about, though: You and Xan finally got your shit together.”
I roll my eyes at that. “Guess we could’ve had that a lot earlier. Like, if I had been upfront with you and not switched schools at the last moment.”
“Oh, no,” Nate laughs, throwing one arm around my shoulder as he guides us to the exit. “I mean yes, that would have totally been the right thing to do, but trust me, you still would have hated him back then.”
He is probably right about that, and I almost wish I could go back to hating Xander now.
It would make the future so much easier.
Nicko, April 11th
In a perfect story, the kind I would have liked to tell my nieces and nephews one day, we would have gone on to the Frozen Four final. Bonding over doing the right thing would have helped us rally together for the ultimate win.
In the real world, we lose our next game.
And by losing, I mean Michigan fucking obliterates us with a whopping 4-1.
We knew from the start that making up for the losses on our roster was close to impossible. Zollweg might be a raging homophobe who has gone on to tell “his side of the story” on several podcasts and YouTube channels, but unfortunately, he was also one of our best players.
Coach has upheld his suspension for Elrod, but word has it that he and Zollweg are trying to bring in lawyers to “restore their names.”
Bergerson only returned once to clean out his locker. He didn’t talk to any of us but posted a lengthy statement on his Instagram account to publicly explain how “insurmountable differences” led to him resigning from the team.
Jacob Dunn, my right winger on the fourth line, followed a few days later due to the pressure his parents put on him. Seeing Jacob pack up his things, lips pressed into a thin line and fingers shaking when he grabbed his skates, was depressing.
Aside from that, Aldridge is still out with his broken hand. His case is also up for review since, at the end of the day, he attacked another teammate. He wasn’t even allowed on the bench today but attended the game from the stands, his teenage brother next to him. We met the kid outside and signed his hockey stick. The rainbow tape actually answered a lot of my questions. I doubt we will ever become buddies, but Aldridge still slapped my back and wished me good luck for the game.
A part of me is glad this season has come to an end. Going on to the finals just wouldn’t feel right. Not even with Xander officially reaching out to us and explaining that he was grateful for the support the rest of the team showed.
Not all of our fans and classmates agree on that. Campus has turned into a minefield—we never know if we will get harassed or praised for our actions. Everyone, from the janitor to the dean, had their own opinion to voice. So it wasn’t surprising that most seats in our faction stayed empty today, be it to protest “wokeness” or homophobia in college sports. Actually, the biggest group consists of my family, my roommates, and Xander. Since the Frozen Four is hosted by Boston this year, all of them made the journey.
I hate to lose in front of people I love.
“That was an awesome goal!” Marisol cheers when I skate up to the plexiglass. My teammates are already heading off to the showers while Michigan celebrates on the other side of the rink. I feel a bit bad for them—even when their fans went all out, it’s simply not the same with half the arena showing empty seats.
“Thanks,” I laugh at her genuine excitement. Scoring B-Tech’s only goal tonight is a small consolation. This was my last NCAA goal, maybe even my last one on US soil.
I already know that I won’t be done with hockey. The Rebels still haven’t come through, but I have made my peace with being cut loose.
