The Sound of Ice

37

I lean against Sam's shoulder as I turn my baseball over in my hand.

"Dear Cameron," he reads. "My name is Ashley, and I am a twelve year old girl that lives only an hour away from St. Anne, so I've been to one of your games before, and also I have a St. Anne Lions baseball hat that I wear all the time. I have two moms and we're all really big fans of you, they said to say hello. I hope you win. I would come to all of your games if I could. Love, Ashley." 

"Hmm," I say.

"Hmm," Sam says. "That was sweet. Look, she drew a picture. Want to read another?"

"No."

He gently rips open another envelope. Three more came in the mail this week. "Dear Cameron, I've been struggling with being gay for quite some time now, I even considered taking my own life, but you're a really big inspiration and I -"

"Stop."

He puts the letter down. "You okay?"

"Yup."

He folds it up and and sets it on my nightstand. "You want to take a walk?"

"They're calling for a bad snowstorm." The last blizzard of the year, is what the weatherman said. 

"Cameron," he says softly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You want to talk?"

"No, I do not want to talk." I don't want to move, either.

"Cam."

"It's Cameron."

"Cameron. You -"

My bedroom door swings open and I lift my head from Sam's shoulder, even though it's just Hailey, and she doesn't care.

"Hi Sam," says Hailey. She runs and jumps on his lap. "Do you want to use the telescope with me again tonight?"

"I don't know about tonight," says Sam gently. "It's supposed to storm."

"It's supposed to storm?"

"I don't know, ask your brother. He's the meteorologist."

Hailey turns to me, her eyes wide. A string of blonde hair falls down the side of her face. "You're a meter-olo-gist?"

"Nope. Still a hockey player."

"Too bad, Cameron." Hailey pushes herself down from Sam and jumps to the floor.

"Yeah, too bad."

"Mom wanted me to tell you that we're watching a movie together as a family."

"What movie?" 

"I don't know. Something old. She says hurry up or else you're gonna miss it."

"Alright," I mutter, glancing at Sam. Hailey runs from the room, her loud stomps echoing throughout the house, and Sam squeezes my hand.

We watch the movie. It does storm, and the wind howls against the windowpanes.

~

I take a deep breath, pressing a hand against my rib cage. It'll bruise. Everyone changes out of their jerseys around me, talking quietly as lockers slam shut. We won against the IceDogs in overtime.

Ethan sits on the bench beside me, wearing soft sweatpants and a bright white t-shirt against his dark skin. "Are you ever gonna change out of your jersey?"

"Yeah."

He glances to my hand. "Dude."

"Dude," I mimic. "Before you say anything, I was awake. It was just a normal check. Stop worrying all the time, Mom."

He holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Did I say anything?"

I sigh and take off my jersey, and pull on a Lions long-sleeved shirt. Ethan looks down to the bruise. 

"Ouch," he says.

"It's hockey. Stop."

"I'm just saying. Are you like, sick or something?"

"No."

"Well, why have you been so tired? And like, weird?"

"Can you chill, Ethan?" I stand up and swing my bag over my shoulder. "Come on, let's go."

He puts on 80s music in the car but doesn't sing along.

~

Dear Cameron,

I am thirteen and I really like watching you play hockey, I am bisexual but I haven't told very many people yet, anyways I really like hockey and you seem like a nice person, thanks for like representing us.

From, Jake

There's a doodle of a hockey stick and puck beside his name. I lean against my bedroom wall and bite off the cap of a pen.

Dear Jake,

My blue pen hovers above the notebook paper. My breathing gets sharper. What am I supposed to say? I'm about to crumble up the paper, but then I stop and smooth it out.

Thank you so much for the letter. I'm glad you like hockey. 

Then I really do crumble it up and throw it in the trash can. Besides, my handwriting is crap.

~

Sam's uncle goes to the hospital for checkups more often now. I know Sam is really worried about it. Maybe that's what he dreams about.

I'd like to think that once I'm playing for an NHL team, things will be easier. No high school, for one.  But Sam and I won't be in the same city anymore. And it hurts too much to think about that, so I don't. And hate is universal. And confusion is universal.

I wish I could write back to all those people. But there are words inside of me that I don't know how to pull out. 

All weekend, it rains.

I wish it would rain forever.