Page 55 of Hooking the Captain
Mom was the first to speak. “It kills me that you felt you needed to keep all of this to yourself.”
Dad nodded in agreement. “Did you think we would have an issue with you being bisexual?”
“No ... not really. I don’t know.” I looked at the floor. “I was scared.”
“Why?” Mom asked.
There was only one way I could answer her question, and I knew the answer would devastate them. But I’d been keeping things a secret for far too long, and I wondered if I could finally find some peace if I told them. So, with another deep breath, I shared what had happened in high school. I left out some details, like Tim’s name, even though they asked, but I gave them enough information for them to understand the extent of the bullying I’d endured after being assaulted and that it had been at the hands of someone I’d trusted.
Once I was done telling them my deepest, darkest secrets, I looked up and saw both of them had tears in their eyes.
“Oh, sweetie.” Mom wrapped me in a hug. “I’m so sorry.”
My father joined us in a group hug and asked, “Why didn’t you tell us when it happened?”
“The night it happened, I lost all my trust in people,” I replied, my voice low.
Dad pulled back a little and looked at me. “But you’re our son. We would’ve helped you. We would’ve protected you.”
“I know it wasn’t fair to the two of you.” I choked back tears. “But that betrayal messed me up, and I didn’t know how to handle it, so I decided living in secret was the best option.”
“You don’t have to carry this burden alone anymore, son. We love you.” Dad’s grip on me tightened.
In that moment, wrapped in my parents’ arms, I realized something important. For six years, I’d lived in fear, convinced that those closest to me would eventually betray me. Yet here I was, my real-life experiences proving that I was wrong. My parents would never turn their backs on me. And despite Coop and Tyler both having valid reasons to be angry with me, neither of them ever gave me a reason to doubt I could trust them. Perhaps it was time for me to live my life the way I wanted and not give Tim’s actions the power to ruin my chance at future happiness.
16
COOP
The tension washigh as we walked out to the bench to start the third period against the Canadiens. The score was tied 2-2, and I took a deep breath as I skated onto the ice. We all knew what we needed to accomplish in the next twenty minutes, and we were determined to do so.
I won the puck drop and scanned my guys for an opening as we entered Montreal’s zone. The Canadiens’ defenseman tried to close in, but I slipped past him, moving the puck away from him. I sent it to Butcher, then he hit it back to me and we cycled it, trying to break through Montreal’s tight defense. It was a dance of sticks and bodies, but I spotted an opening and made my move.
The puck glided toward Nyström, who released a lightning-fast shot on net. The goalie made a quick save and a battle for the loose puck ensued. Bodies collided, and I dug in, pushing against the defense, trying to regain control. Orlov swooped in, and in the chaos, sent the puck between their goalie’s legs and into the net.
The crowd went wild as the lamp lit up, and the guys and I celebrated pulling ahead.
The clock ticked down, and the intensity reached a fever pitch. We defended our lead with desperation. Kingston made a series of incredible saves, each one met with a collective sigh of relief from the crowd. The Canadiens pressed on, pulling their goalie for an extra attacker in a last-ditch effort to tie the game.
As the last seconds dwindled away, we held our ground, denying Montreal a chance to score again.
The enthusiastic energyof our win still lingered as I peeled off my gear in the locker room after speaking with the media.
“Great game, Coop,” Kingston said, toweling off the sweat from his face. “You guys made my job a lot easier out there.”
“And you made some insane saves, man. We couldn’t have done it without you.” I smiled warmly.
“Team effort, right?”
“Absolutely,” I agreed. “Hey, what do you say we grab a drink or something? Celebrate this win properly?”
We were on a three-game homestand and only had to report to practice the following day. Having a few with the guys to commemorate our win sounded perfect.
A grin crept across his face. “I’m in. I could use a cold one after that.”
“Flanagan’s for a nightcap. Kingston’s buying.” I winked at him as I yelled out to the locker room. Flanagan’s was an Irish pub we went to after games because they stayed open late and we could arrive after our night games.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Butcher boomed.
