Page 66 of Scoring Zone
“See. Muah.” I exaggerate a kiss on his cheek. “Talk more or eat?” Today has been momentous, and my goal is to give him what he needs.
“Eat. And listen to another audio recording on your app.”
“Deal.” I remind myself to breathe.
We’ll be okay.
The practice facility is quiet, and no one has come to see me before the afternoon skate. It makes me nervous instead of grateful. And I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit to worrying about Austin.
He loves me, but saying it caused him to be so overwhelmed that he almost passed out. He grew up with well-meaning parents who discouraged any emotions, so he never learned how to process his feelings. I’m not a professional in mental health, but I’m an expert on him. If he continues to put the team and other people first before dealing with his own emotions, it could cause a breakdown in public. I’ll do anything to protect him from that.
He has an appointment later with the sports psychologist, and I encouraged him to talk to her about what happened even though it doesn’t relate to hockey.
The black-and-purple logos, along with the layout, are so familiar I could find my way to the locker room blindfolded. I wander into the team’s space to put eyes on the players who need a stretch or a taping.
As I walk in, Benzy leaps over the bench and yells, “Freeze.” No one takes him seriously, but everyone turns his way. “The boys are back!” He fist-pumps while twerking.
Liska grunts as if to say “What the hell are you talking about.”
“Look, the twins are twinning again.” Benz points to me and Austin. “Let’s see your socks,” he demands.
Austin’s pale skin is bright pink, and this is the type of situation I fear might guilt him into telling the truth he’s not ready for.
I cross my ankles and pretend to be scandalized. “A gentleman never shows his socks in public. Mine are black, like your heart.” I toss my hair back with indignation.
“They say goalies are weird. Trainers are unhinged,” Benzy complains. “All I’m saying is I want things to go back to normal. Newsflash: we’ve noticed the tension between our captain and caretaker.” He slumps down on the bench.
My face must show as much shock as Austin’s. “You think we’re fighting?” he croaks.
The room is silent, and the team glances at each other nervously, hoping someone will speak up.
“It’s us. We’re fine, don’t worry,” I say to take the heat off Austin.
“You don’t go out with us anymore,” Lucky accuses me, and I’m so taken aback, I remain silent.
“Here’s the thing. You two were like Velcro, and now you avoid each other. It’s not our business. We’re not doing an intervention—”
“Thank you,” Austin cuts King off. “Really, you guys are amazing, and I… we appreciate you all. Gray and I are fine. We’re trying new things, but we’ll always be friends.”
“New things?” Drake raises a suspicious eyebrow.
“Yes, we’re splitting up at team functions to spy on all of you and report back to Coach. Now you’ve foiled our plan.” I hang my head and snap my fingers as if to say “Oh shoot.”
Benz says, “Liars,” at the same time as Lucky says, “Dickheads.”
“Fine, don’t tell us. You’re acting like a snow leopard hiding in plain sight by blending in. But we see you.” Lucky points two fingers at his eyes and then at mine. “I’m watching you.”
Coach steps into the locker room and frowns at his team, who are still in their street clothes. “Get your asses on the ice. Now!” Everyone scrambles to get dressed, and I snag a few players to come with me to the treatment room.
As I’m walking out, my eyes find Austin’s, and as expected, he’s concerned, and the wheels are turning in his head. He should talk to a professional before making the decision to come out. I don’t want him to feel pressured into it.
During practice, Benz gets a puck stuck in his pads, and I help him fish it out. “Austin and I are fine. I promise you don’t have to worry.” I give him a reassuring pat.
“You’re so important to this team. We couldn’t do it without you,” he says, and I laugh. “It’s not funny, it’s true.”
His hurt sobers me. “Thank you. I appreciate it, but I’m doing my job, and any other trainer would keep you guys healthy.”
Benz shakes his head. “You’re delulu. That’s horseshit.” He skates away, but I don’t have a response.
