Chapter 24AsherTheo
Asher
Coach Wilson’s office was a drab grey that matched my mood. Harsh overhead light gave a fishbowl effect, and the seats were the most uncomfortable things ever. It all felt very fitting for what would surely be the end of my hockey career.
There was a very strong possibility that we’d be kicked out of the league, but that wouldn’t even be the worst punishment.
The hockey community was tight-knit, and word traveled fast. NCAA punishments were taken seriously, and everyone knew that certain infractions could ruin a player’s prospects for the pros.
Nobody wanted to deal with a problem—not when there were so many good players out there who would work hard and not royally fuck up.
Like we did.
I had pushed myself so hard my entire life, and it was all crashing down around me.
My cheeks were ablaze with shame as Coach’s eyes traveled back and forth between Theo and me.
It was humiliating. Coach Wilson, a man I respected and admired, saw a picture of Theo eating my ass.
It pretty much didn’t get more embarrassing than that .
Coach took a deep breath and said, “Boys, you know you can’t do shit like that in the locker room. For Christ’s sake, I don’t care what you guys do off the ice, but you can’t do it in the damn locker room.”
My eyes trailed to the floor because it was too hard to meet his gaze. I was so embarrassed.
“We’re so sorry,” Theo quietly said.
I nodded and added, “Yeah. We’re so, so sorry.
” There was silence for a moment, and when I looked up and met Coach’s gaze, there was sympathy in his eyes.
Relief washed over me. This man, a paragon of masculinity and athleticism, wasn’t looking at me like I was a freak, but like a twenty-year-old who did something dumb. That’s all. My chest loosened a little.
“Well,” Coach finally said, “you’re both suspended for the next three games.
I argued hard on your behalf. The league officials originally wanted more, but I told them that was unfair, considering we’re only two weeks away from the championship.
You’ve both played well and deserve to see this season to the end.
Personally, I don’t think what you did was that egregious.
Everything was consensual. It was just… You got caught. ”
I couldn’t believe it. I was sure we’d get kicked out. My eyes trailed over to Theo, and I saw his big smile, which made my heart skip a beat. He turned to me and, together, we released a verbal avalanche of gratitude that bounced off the walls and created a cacophony of echoes in the tiny office.
Coach put up his hand, “Enough, enough. Just don’t do it again.”
“We won’t, sir,” I exclaimed while shaking my head.
“Definitely not,” Theo added .
It felt like that was it until Coach added, “Boys. I’m glad I was able to reduce the punishment, but I know that picture got around—more than just our team saw it.
Whoever took it wanted to make damn sure they ruined you.
” Coach paused for a moment, chewing on his lower lip as if he was trying to choose his next words carefully.
“You’re gonna get a lot of shit, boys. Times have changed, but old ideas of what it means to be a man are still prevalent in sports, unfortunately.
You’re gonna need a stiff upper lip. Players will say things—goading you into retaliating.
Don’t take the bait. Beat them by being better. Do you understand?”
It was a sobering speech, but I knew Coach was right. We might not be kicked out of the league, but that didn’t mean we were home free. All the wrong people saw that picture, and we had to brace ourselves for the worst.
It wasn’t like I hadn’t experienced that kind of hate before, albeit on a slightly smaller scale, but it was hard nonetheless. Having to constantly be on guard, the hypervigilance necessary to protect yourself physically and emotionally, was exhausting.
And I’m fucking tired of it.
I was tired of being afraid—tired of twisting myself up in knots to be something for everyone except for what I wanted to be.
Theo and I nodded our heads and were excused.
As we left the office, there were more than a few guys from the team suiting up for practice. When the office door closed behind us, it was like the scene in a movie when the record comes to a screeching halt and everyone’s necks break to see what yahoo just walked in.
That yahoo was me. Well, Theo and I .
Their icy glares made a chill go down my spine. Some looked at us with disdain, others snickered, while some averted their gaze altogether.
Mason, on the other hand, looked absolutely elated.
“You homos kicked out of the league?” he asked.
Theo’s body flinched slightly, and I grabbed his hand instinctively. His eyes met mine.
“Don’t take the bait,” I whispered, repeating Coach’s words. “Beat them by being better.”
Theo nodded, then released a devilish grin and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “Nah, three-game suspension,” he replied.
Mason’s glee quickly vanished, his eyes widening and his cheeks inflamed. “What? Are you fucking serious? You fucked in the showers, and they’re suspending you? You deviants should be kicked out!”
Theo’s nonchalance made me stronger—made me feel powerful. I wrapped my arm around his waist and said, “Well, they didn’t. We’re suspended.”
Seeing Mason’s fury was almost worth the whole ordeal.
He stuttered, trying to come up with some kind of nasty retort, but he couldn’t.
We might not have proof, but I knew he did it.
I just knew it, and his little plot to ruin me wasn’t going according to plan.
His exasperation was worthy of a chef’s kiss.
“Now, if you’ll excuse us,” Theo finally replied, “but I have to go eat out my boyfriend’s ass some more. See you dweebs in three games.”
We walked out, heads held high, and Quincy started clapping. “You’ll be back! The dynamic duo will be back!”
A few other guys clapped, and my heart was nearly bursting. I made a mental note of who each of them was. I’d tell them how much their support meant to me later.
Theo and I walked out of there like we were on top of the world, and, to be honest, I kind of believed it.
Theo
The conversation with Coach was one thing; the talk with my parents was another.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Teodoro! What the hell were you thinking?” my mother exclaimed, pacing around the kitchen and clutching her metaphorical pearls.
Dad looked at us with a raised brow. “Well, it could have been worse. A suspension’s rough, but it isn’t expulsion. Coach Wilson really did you a solid there.”
I knew Dad was right. I can’t imagine what would have happened to us had Coach not fought as hard as he had.
I mean, he had every reason to fight for us.
Asher and I were powerhouse players, but it felt like more than that.
Like he genuinely thought it was just a dumb mistake and not some dark act of deviance.
I was hoping Asher had internalized that a little bit.
Not everyone in the sports world is a fuckin’ asshole.
Reggie crept into the kitchen with a smirk on her face. “You two are the gift that keeps on giving.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. God, this is humiliating. “Shut up, Reggie.”
“Oh, come on, it’s not a big deal. It’s just a little hanky panky in the locker room. You two are in luuuuuurve,” she crooned while batting her lashes .
Asher rested his head on the kitchen table, hiding his face from my family. “I’m so embarrassed.”
Dad cleared his throat before adding, “Look, you boys are young. The hormones are raging, and I’m sure it’s hard to get in the mood when your folks are in the next room, but you don’t need to get down and dirty in a locker room shower. If you need some cash for a motel or something—”
“Are you fucking kidding me, Anthony?” Mom hollered.
“Language, Mom. ” Reggie was obviously taking great delight in this moment of abject humiliation for me and reveling in the fact that Mom was losing it.
“Reggie, shut your trap!” Mom turned back to Dad and continued her rant. “You’re not giving them money so they can have sex in a motel!”
“What? That’s better than public indecency, isn’t it?”
“Can I have money for motel sex?” Reggie quipped.
Mom threw her hands in the air and screamed, “Nobody is getting money for sex!”
By that point, Asher and I were both hiding beneath our arms with our heads resting on the table.
Take. Me. Now. God.
Moments later, Roxy ran into the kitchen, her voice strained and frantic. “Guys, we have a problem.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake! “ A problem?” I asked. The edge in my voice was palpable. “We already have a problem, Roxy. If you’re coming with more bad news, then we’ve got problems.”
Roxy looked me dead in the eyes, conveying the seriousness of the issue. “Well, then you have a whole bunch of problems. Look at this.”
Roxy handed me the phone, and the words on the screen hit me like a punch to the gut. It was a Facebook post from Rink Rumor Roundup that read:
SCANDAL ALERT!!
Word is spreading fast after a wild incident in the West Chester Warriors’ locker room. Supposedly, Asher Lachlan and Teodoro Moretti were caught in a private moment TOGETHER after the game. A teammate snapped some pics of the boys in the act, and now those images are making the rounds on Snapchat.
Stay tuned for updates — this one’s nowhere near done!
#HockeyScandal #LockerRoomHeat #SummerLeague #GayHockeyPlayers
“Oh my God.” Asher’s voice shook me out of my trance. He’d read it over my shoulder, then slowly sat back down in his chair, sinking into a slouch and cradling his head in his hands. “I’m gonna be sick. I think I’m gonna be sick.”