Page 6 of Scoring Chance

We play a scrimmage and skate around our teammates with ease. Griffin and Derek on defense definitely give us a fight, but I nail a pass to Tanner, and he slips it into goal.

It's like we're dancing.

Tanner and I have just always understood each other. You know, I love all my teammates, but he and I have a special bond, forged through tough times and inside jokes and all the little stuff in between that builds a friendship.

"Damn, you guys still got it," Hank says.

After a good hour-long practice, we get showered and dressed.

"All right, who's up for a beer?" Griffin says. He points to me. "Or a martini."

"Excuse me for wanting something a little bit nicer," I say.

Tanner takes his time getting dressed. I glimpse his chest and some of the golden hairs on there. I don't mean to—it happens so fast. I'm proudly bisexual. I think women and men are both beautiful in their own ways, and finding your friend beautiful is something that’s bound to happen. I dismiss the thought, though, and avert my gaze. He’s the safe harbor away from the stormy seas of my sex life.

"I'm gonna pass on drinks tonight," Tanner says. "I gotta get home to the kids and break the news to them."

I grab his arm before he goes. "Hey, if you need help with anything, we're here. We got you."

I peer into his eyes, letting him know that I mean that more than anyone here.

"We're not gonna let you starve."

He gives me a nod, and I watch him go, absentmindedly checking out his ass in the process.

3

TANNER

Spending time with my kids is usually the highlight of my day, but tonight I'm dreading it. I'm dreading having to tell them that their dad is out of a job, unemployed, on the verge of being a deadbeat.

As a dad, I need to be the strong one. I've always needed to be the strong one, especially after their mother passed away. I want to be the example that you can get through hard things.

And luckily, this is nothing like losing Katie. But still, it sucks. I don't want them to see me fail. They just started a new school year. They’re adjusting to so much; I don’t want to add this.

I pull into the garage. In the rearview mirror, I force one of my regular dad smiles onto my face. I'll crazy glue it on there if I have to.

Inside the house, my five-year-old, Lulu, runs over to me, easily one of the top moments of any day. She hugs my legs first. I pull her up into my arms.

"Hey, baby, what's up?"

"Daddy," she says in that gleeful way that goes straight to my heart. "I painted a picture of a bunny rabbit today in school."

"Really?" I say. "That's incredible. Oh, I want to see it.”

The art that gets sent home from class is a bit excessive. There's only so much you can put on the refrigerator. Especially when the kids were younger. They'd scribble on paper and the teacher would send it home with them where it’d have to go on the fridge for a few days. However, this bunny rabbit picture actually resembles a bunny rabbit. She’s chosen pink for the body and green for the ears.

My seven-year-old Dean strolls up to me with chubby cheeks that I have to resist the urge to pinch. He wears a red sparkly bow tie from a magician set he got last Christmas.

"Dad, would you like a piece of chewing gum?" He holds out a pack of gum with one piece—only one piece—sticking out.

I play along. "Oh yes, I really could go for some gum. I'm so glad you have some, Dean."

I reach in. As soon as I grab the piece, it sends a shock through my body. It stings every time. But the laugh on Dean's face is worth it. He’s a total jokester, something he does not get from me. Didn't really get from his mom, either. It’s something all his own.

I walk with my two youngest into the living room where my two oldest are watching TV. Lena is doing some homework while the TV is on.

“Dad! Watch this!” Davy, my ten-year-old, plays with his plastic hockey stick and puck in front of the TV, practicing his moves. He shoots the puck into a wastebasket leaning on its side on the carpet. He’s begun parting his blond hair the same as me.