The Unspoken Pass

Nut Over Caramel

Hope wrestled with the thought of how to break the news to her mother that she was no longer part of the team without revealing her true reasons. The weight of guilt over her feelings for girls had been a constant companion. Despite several attempts to date guys and fit into the expected mold, by the age of seventeen, she had accepted her truth. However, she was determined to shield her mother from any potential hurt or disappointment, for as long as possible.

Hoping to transition to a new team before informing her mom, she sought to minimize any overtures her mother might make to rectify the situation with her previous coach.

First on her list was the Frostbite Vipers.

Years ago, Hope had auditioned for a spot on their roster, but things didn't pan out. While her speed and passing skills were exceptional, tension between her mom and another parent had led to her withdrawal from consideration. Despite the setback, the Vipers had gone on to clinch six championships in the past decade. Reentering their domain, this time as a prospective player and not an opponent, felt vastly different.

She had scheduled a meeting with the Vipers' coach, but it was cut short. Rumors about her had permeated through the hockey community. It wasn't her sexuality that was the issue, but rather the label of being "disruptive" that her former coach had slapped on her. The implication was clear: her skills were undeniable, but her alleged ability to disrupt team cohesion made her a liability.

Subsequent visits to other teams that day ended in similar fashion. Brief meetings, polite rejections, and a clear message that she wasn't the right fit.

Faced with dwindling options and the inevitable conversation with her mom looming, Hope pondered her next move. How could she articulate her decision to abandon hockey in their town without revealing the full story? The challenge of crafting a convincing excuse loomed large.

As Hope approached her home, a lingering thought resurfaced — there was another team she could consider. Yet, considering the tumultuous history she shared with one of its members, it seemed like an impossible choice. The alternative was to come clean about her well-guarded secret, a truth she deemed unspeakable.

Facing her mother, the warmth and affection in her mother's eyes stopped her short. She couldn't drop a bombshell that would shatter that trust. Without a word, she retreated to her car and headed thirty minutes across town, arriving at a more modest stadium than the one she was accustomed to. As she entered, players from the evening's practice streamed out.

Navigating the familiar corridors, she found herself outside the coach's office. A knock later, she was greeted with an inviting, "Come in."

Upon recognizing Hope, the coach's face broke into a genuine smile. "I had a feeling you'd show up."

"Does that mean you've already made up your mind about me?"

"Stories and first-hand experiences are poles apart. I don't put stock in rumors, but you should be aware of what it means to wear our jersey."

Hope waited, uncertain of his intent.

"Look behind you."

Turning, Hope's eyes landed on a sign that read, "Honor your teammates, honor the game, honor yourself."

"Do you believe you can embody these principles?" he questioned.

With a determined nod, Hope replied, "Yes."

"Then lace up. We're hitting the ice."

A mix of exhilaration and trepidation filled her. This wasn't a straightforward inclusion; it was a tryout.

Emerging onto the ice, she spotted the coach positioned beside the net. He didn't go easy on her, setting her through a grueling series of drills. However, Hope's resilience was evident. At the end of the session, the coach extended an offer with a caveat. She was a newcomer, and she'd have to earn her stripes. No special privileges would be given, irrespective of her reputed prowess in the league.