Shutout

Chapter 22 - Logan

The next game after our two days off is a home game. Porter is still out with injury as far as I know, so I arrive at that arena for practice, nervous to both start the game and to enter the locker room. Not that i fear anyone in the lockerroom now that Porter is on injury. But the last few games, the locker room was tense, and it felt like all my fault. Even Bac, the bubbly player of the team, was subdued and quiet, looking so much more intense with the scabs on his face. 

By the time I lug most of my shit in for practice, there are already quite a few people there. They give me nods of acknowledgment but don't divert their banter to address me. It makes me feel like a little weight is off my shoulders. It's loud like usual. It's stinky and messy like usual. It's full of boys with stupid haircuts and pads halfway on like usual. Like we've finally gotten back to normal or as close as we can be with me on the team. 

With that reassurance, I start dressing and prepping for practice this morning. As people come in, they greet me with a slap of the hand or the occasional ruffle of my hair since I sit right next to the door. I even catch Samantha, who is the woman to talk to if you want to get in good with the higher-ups and get free tickets or merch for your family or friends. She gives me a suspicious look because we both know I've already gotten stuff for my parents, and I don't have family in Indianapolis. But she agrees to help anyway. 

By the time I'm finished dressing waist down, Toi comes in from the trainer's door and instantly locks eyes on me. I nod to him and go back to getting dressed, but Toi is not done. He jokes and talks with the boys as he crosses the locker room, but eventually, he plops down in Porter's stall next to mine and leans across the half-hearted divider to talk low to me. 

"Hey, kid. You doing good?" 

Toi, whether he knows it or not, is undoubtedly the team dad, and Hayden is the team's uncle. Together, they provide experience, wisdom, stability, and role models not only in hockey but also in men. Bac once told me that he preferred to talk to Toi about life problems than his own father. He just has a soft voice and careful eyes down. His family has it good. 

I nod, "Yeah, I'm alright."

Toi stares at me for a moment before nodding back, "Alright, just wanted to double check after you turned off your phone that day. Had me worried."

I bend my head, hopefully hiding any heat in my cheeks, "Yeah, sorry about that. I just wanted you to know if you were trying to get in contact with me or something. Kane and I turned off our phones so we didn't have to deal with...the world I guess for the day. It was nice."

Toi chuckles, still leaning over the wooden divider between the stalls, "Yeah, I bet. What I wouldn't kill to hide from the world for a day, you know?" I smile, and Toi nods to himself, "Okay, as long as you think you're okay. You and Bac had me worried on my days off of all days."

I straighten my back a little, looking for the man mentioned. But I don't see him. I don't hear him.

"Bac? Is he okay? He's not here right now, right?"

Toi shrugs, "It's hard to know with Bac. As open and welcoming as the guy is, if there is something he doesn't want you to know, he'll hide it well. I'm just worried because this father came down to talk to him after the fight, and as far as I know, his father is...a difficult person to be raised by."

"Wasn't—Wasn't Bac's dad also a player?"

"Yeah," Toi says, "Burton Bacques. He played fifteen seasons, I think. He gives the impression that he's pretty hard on Bac when it comes to hockey because of it. But who knows? Bac could come in today acting like not a thing happened, you know? Let's just support him either way."

I nod enthusiastically. Toi smiles his crooked grin, pats my leg, and parts to go talk to Odell, who is walking out of the trainer's room. 

Was Bac okay? Except for the last time I saw him, he's always seemed so...upbeat. Like nothing really bothers him or gets to him. His confidence has always done a good job protecting him. And he's an open book about probably too much. I mean, sometimes I think he's a little eager to get drunk and has trouble understanding when to stop talking about something. But other than that, I can't imagine Bac being down unless his father is a tyrant. 

When he does come in, he seems to be back to normal. His face is almost healed, and he's grinning broadly. There are heavy bags under his eyes, but they're wide and bright like usual. He's loud, slapping hands with everyone who walks by him. 

I can't help but look for Bac while we practice. But in the end, I can't see a reason to be worried. That's probably not a good sign, right?

***

We're down one goal by the time we skate onto the ice for the third period. I hit gloves with the second line on the ice as I make my way to the crest. The light show is still illuminating the ice as it does during the intermissions. I try to stretch my hamstring when suddenly there is an announcement like it's still intermission or something. I know sometimes they'll play games with the audience and or make comments about the audience, but usually not as we get ready to start. 

Instantly, however, I turn towards the Jumbotron when my name is mentioned. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, it has come to our attention that Logan Klicker's significant other is the audience. But the shocking part is, this is his first-ever hockey game!"

The crowd screams and cheers as a bundled-up Kane shows up on the Jumbotron. He's wearing both a Cardinal sweatshirt I got him and a black puffer jacket in addition to a Cardinal's beanie. At first, he looks spooked but quickly recovers and waves brightly at the camera. The older man, who he told me is his step-father Kent, chuckles at his stepson, who is fumbling with some piece of paper. Eventually, he gets it unfolded, and the crowd goes even more crazy. 

It's just a white poster board with Black and red writing on it. But the writing makes me bury my head in my gloves while I can hear everyone laugh. In nice, legible writing, "#1 is it natural or is it gear?" With a photo that my ass is particularly far out as I squat. Kane grins mischievously on the jumbotron. 

"We love to see support from our players' partners! And with a good sense of humor!"

I'm so distracted by the Jumbotron, watching Kane proudly display his creation, that I don't even see the ref skating up to me until he says, "Never been to a hockey game before? Where'd you find him, huh?"

I laugh behind my mask and try to shrug under my pads.  

We do end up losing by one goal, and it stings because it was a stupid fucking goal that I shouldn't have let through. Not to mention, this is the first time that Kane has watched a game. The team isn't happy, tense silence has a chokehold over the lockeroom as Coach scolds us for our inability to get a grip. 

It is only as we are stripping off our gear that the tension is broken by Bac, who announces, "If we're not going to talk to each other, does that mean we can't talk about how Klicky is dating a hockey noob?"

That gets the lockerroom up in a roar to give me shit. Questions about how why I'm dating a non-hockey fan and if it makes me feel better to not date a fan-boy. Odell asks me if I'm hiding him, and that's why he's never been to a game before. Denivoich asks if Kane knew that hockey was a sport before he met me. Lucas Cohen demands that Kane come to his Christmas party so that they can thoroughly interrogate him there. 

I let them laugh and goofy off at our expense because I know it's lighthearted, and I appreciate the lifted mood of the locker room. I think one of the best parts of hockey is the team. Having a group of men laughing and messing around or focused on a similar goal. It's the only reason I've made it this far as a goalie. I have a team to share the burden of losses and the excitement of wins. 

I can fit in. I can belong. 

Even if I don't participate in the shenanigans, I can still smile like I'm participating. Even if we've got the weight of losses on my shoulders, we still smile and make fun of each other. Not all of us will be here a year from now, I know. It'll all be different one day, but right now, it makes me confident that I can survive even when the world is in its full revolution around the sun. Even as the seasons change. Even as we reach the years of retiring, I am enjoying myself in the now. And I'll cherish that even as I close my eyes to sleep decades from now.