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Same, baby sis. See you soon.
It’s taken days but my mother finally agreed to drive down to St. Paul for my game. The first she’ll have attended since I was called up. The first she’ll have attended in almost two years. I lied when I told her I could only manage two tickets when she wanted three. My father only wants to be there for some misplaced bragging rights. Fuck that. If he had any role in my success, it’s because I worked harder to ensure I could escape him.
No doubt he’ll make her feel guilty about going without him, but she, and especially Callie, deserve the night away from his drunk ass.
“If you lot are going to forecheck as well as you did last game, the least you could do is come down to my net and say hi occasionally. I got lonely the other night.” Blom pouts in the locker room as we go through our pre-game habits.
“Ah, Bloomy, you need a friend with you in the net,” Lehtinen teases.
“Yes, damnit. All I have is my posts to talk to and they’re boring company,” he says. “It’s lonelier than my bed down there.”
The guys laugh, but we know he hooks up with random fans enough for his bed to stay warm. Some of the guys in the league call them puck bunnies, which has always sounded too derogatory for my liking. Maybe I’m more sensitive to that because I’m queer. But some of the guys have married women that started out as a random fan hookup. Those guys are far more careful about what they call female fans now.
“We’ll try and do better,” Cillian says.
“You better fucking not,” Coach chides to another round of laughter. “It’s not going to be an easy match tonight, fellas. Be aggressive, get your shots on the net, and let’s keep it as clean as we can. This team capitalizes on those power plays, don’t give them the extra opportunity.”
“Yes, Coach,” I say in unison with the other players.
First period ends up being a grind with no goal on either end of the ice. We’re all exhausted and happy to head back to the locker room for the first intermission. Though I never check my phone during games, I make an exception this time, hoping Callie or my mom sent confirmation that they arrived all right.
Callie:
These seats are great, Z! Lily is going to be so jealous!!
“Who the hell is Lily,” I mumble.
“I don’t know, who,” Vaughn answers from the stall next to me.
“My kid sister is here,” I explain. “Says Lily is going to be jealous of their seats.”
“How old?”
“Fourteen.”
“Tough age for a girl. Tori was a beast between twelve and sixteen.”
“That’s encouraging,” I say, making him chuckle.
“Eh, it’ll pass. They’re formidable years for girls, it’s when they figure out who they are. Us shitheads trail way behind.”
“Some of us still don’t have it figured out,” says Wallin from my other side.
“You don’t, that’s for fucking sure,” Cillian snarks.
“Fuck you, Wylder. Let’s ask that pretty wife of yours when you got your shit together.”
“Yeah, let’s not,” Cillian answers, making Wallin laugh. “They live up North?”
“Mhm, a few hours away. Right near the border,” I answer.
“She’s gonna be dating smelly hockey boys,” Letty says.
“Not if I can fucking stop it,” I gripe. Which I can’t, of course. Not from Seattle anyhow.
“I bet Coach used to say the same thing about his daughters, and now look at them,” Wallin chimes in.
“In what world did you think it was okay to bring my daughters up in the locker room,” Coach hollers from the other side of the room.
