Chapter 19 Skylar
NINETEEN
SKYLAR
For all the negative energy Skylar sent Maxim Novikov at the beginning of the season when he got called up to replace a right-handed D-man, leaving lefty Skylar in the dust, the two of them were starting to gel as a D-pair.
Max was young, but Skylar, like everyone, could see his trajectory.
He was big, and he’d only get bigger as he matured a bit and packed on some more muscle.
But what Skylar appreciated about him was that he was hungry.
He and Skylar got out on the ice every night as the third D-pair and played their hearts out.
They left it all out on the ice, knowing that playing well together would only help both of them.
Riker was on the second D-pair, but he’d notched a couple of goals over his two stints up with the big club this season. Max got his first goal the game before. Skylar was itching for his.
They were in the frosty plains of Manitoba, and even though Skylar was glad he didn’t have to play here often, he always loved the energy of a Canadian crowd.
Fans loved their Winnipeg Wheat and loved to hate whatever team they were playing against. The ire was strong against Minnesota, one of their direct rivals, and it was amplified that night as Minnesota kept finding the back of the net.
They were midway through the third when Skylar found himself at the Wheat’s blue line, keeping the puck in as the Northern Lights’ forwards kept getting chance after chance on net.
Jackson was out at the same time as him, which didn’t happen much, and Skylar was trying to focus on the game instead of admiring their captain.
Jackson got the puck on the toe of his stick and took a shot that ricocheted off the goalie’s leg pad onto the blade of Carver’s stick.
He passed it back to Skylar to keep possession, and Skylar decided in a split second to go for it.
They were up by three. He could afford to fuck up a scoring chance in the name of shooting the puck.
He pulled his stick back for a slapper and let it go, sending the puck back toward the net, clean over the goalie’s shoulder, top shelf.
The goal light went off behind the goalie, and Skylar froze in place, shocked at what just happened.
His teammates crashed around him, Jackson right in his face yelling “yeah, baby!” so loud he felt it in his bones.
The rest of the game was a blur. He got the post-game interview with Amy-Lynn, the in-house Northern Lights reporter, and in the locker room, goalie Gustav Lintz gave him the hard hat that got passed along each game to the guy who worked the hardest that night.
An equipment manager gave him the puck he scored with, and one of the social media team members snapped a photo of him for socials.
He was buzzing on the bus from the arena to the airport, where they would take an overnight flight to Alberta. He had a hometown game, then they’d hit Calgary and Vancouver before going back home. It was going to be a long road trip.
He had a couple dozen texts to respond to when he got on the plane. Some from old teammates who he sent a quick thanks, man! in response. The family group chat was going crazy, with messages from both of his sisters, even though it was late. They were all going to his game in a couple of days.
When he’d left Adam in Minnesota, he knew Adam had headed to see his parents.
They roped him into home projects, and he was beat.
He sent a bunch of congratulatory texts, but by now, Skylar knew he’d be asleep.
He sent him a good-night text, promising to talk the next day when they were both awake for it, and then swiped over to Beck’s text.
Beck
good job kid
No punctuation or even a single capital letter. Skylar wasn’t expecting a robust selection of emojis or animated gifs, but he thought he’d get more than three very short words.
Beck had been distant lately, and it ate at Skylar.
He was worried. He knew that being on two different hockey teams in two different leagues meant they wouldn’t have the same quality time that they had when they were living together and rooming together on the road, but something felt more off to Skylar than just a change in their schedules.
A yawn ripped out of him. He’d gelled with some of the younger guys on the team and played UNO with a group of guys on most flights, but this flight was late.
The airplane lights were low so folks could sleep on the two-hour flight.
No one was playing games or chatting. He’d catch as much sleep as he could before they landed and bussed to the hotel for another disjointed chunk of rest. They would get to sleep in a bit before practice, and that evening, he could see his family.
Somewhere in there, he’d shoehorn in a FaceTime call with his bestie.
Skylar got zero FaceTimes in with anyone the next day. Beck was dodging him, and the conversation he had with Adam was a phone call, so he didn’t get to see his face. Adam was at his parents’ house and sounded like he was struggling. Skylar wanted to give him a hug.
Meanwhile, Skylar headed back to his own parents’ house. His dad picked him up from the hotel, while his mom drove the half hour to pick up his sisters at school so they could all have dinner together.
Skylar loved Edmonton, but it was freezing cold this time of year, and it got dark so early.
When he got homesick, he thought about the river valley in the summer and the crisp chill in the air at the beginning of autumn.
He was not wistful for the winter. Minnesota felt like a walk in the park after growing up in Edmonton.
“Bummed you didn’t wait to score your first goal until tonight,” his dad said on the drive home.
His dad was a kind-hearted insurance agent who’d had dreams of hockey once as well.
He had always tried to instill a diverse roster of interests in Skylar’s life, in case hockey didn’t work out.
Skylar’s attention had never been diverted from his one true love, but he appreciated the effort.
“Same. It’s a bit of a letdown. If I’d scored one game earlier, it would have been a home game. One game later, it would have been in my hometown. I brought the puck for you and Mom.”
“She’ll love that. Put it on her desk with your first AHL goal.”
His mom worked from home, and his dad had built her a beautiful office space in the basement.
When his dad worked from home, he sat on the couch in the living room with his computer on his knees.
He would lay his coat over a mud puddle so she wouldn’t ruin her shoes.
Skylar had always wanted a love like theirs.
His dad told him a little about ice fishing and a tiny bit about work. Now that his folks were empty nesters, they were struggling with the empty house. His dad was going to give in to his mom’s desire to get a couple kittens here pretty soon.
“What else is going on in your life, Bug? How has the transition to Minnesota been treating you?”
“Good. Jackson Harper is my temporary landlord, and he’s great.
His husband, Ryan, is too.” His dad didn’t need the reminder that Skylar’s captain was gay and married to another hockey player.
His parents had always been supportive. They bought him a Blake Brennan jersey the second he came out, making history as the first out NHL player.
“It’s a relief to me and your mom that you’re somewhere safe,” his dad said, his eyes locked on the road ahead of him. Eye contact would be too emotional for a moment like this.
“Me too. The hardest part about being in Minnesota is that I met someone in Iowa.”
“Oh,” his dad said, the tone of his voice switching from something more emotionally earnest than usually appeared in their conversations to joyful interest. “Tell me all about him.”
“His name is Adam. He owns a bar.”
“How did you meet?”
“I went to his bar.” Skylar laughed. “It’s the closest bar to my apartment down there. Beck and I don’t live in the same building anymore, so I had to find someone new to bother with all of my Beck-less free time.”
“What’s he like?”
“He’s reserved. He’s the one holding the umbrella over everyone else, even though he doesn’t fit underneath it with them, you know?” Of course his dad would understand. That was the kind of guy he was. “But he’s smart. Dry humor. He’s not impressed with me.”
His dad smiled at that. “So how’s long distance going for you?”
“It’s okay. He came up to visit me. Went to a game with Ryan, made a friend. I’d say we’re trying to take it slow, but that’s a lie.” Skylar was eternally grateful that his dad was easy to talk to. He asked open-ended questions and didn’t grill him as hard as his mom and sisters would.
“Hopefully, a trip up here this summer with him is in the cards.”
“I’d like to show him around when this place thaws out for sure.”
His dad turned in to their neighborhood, and the calmest feeling washed over him.
His parents bought their house the year after Skylar was born.
He didn’t know anything else but the winding path of their neighborhood roads, the old-growth trees, and the suburban houses that weren’t the most unique, but these were the houses where he trick-or-treated, caroled, and sold candy bars at to fundraise for travel hockey.
Every inch of this neighborhood was special to him.
The tires of his dad’s black Camry crunched through the freshly fallen snow as they pulled into the driveway. His mom’s car was there already.
They headed into the kitchen where April and Lilly were ready to wrap him up in a hug. He gave his mom a hug and a kiss on the cheek, pulling the first-goal puck out of his pocket for her.
His dad ordered pizza, and they sat around the kitchen table for hours, listening to stories that April and Lilly had from college and bombarding Skylar with questions both about hockey and about Adam.
His mom demanded a photo of him, and he showed her a cute one of Adam and Grace at the bar, Adam with his calm and solemn expression as Grace stuck her tongue out and gave him bunny ears.
Skylar stayed as late as he could until his parents were falling asleep around them. April and Lilly drove him back to the hotel before taking their mom’s car to school, so they could drive back for the game the next day and not miss class.
He loved his family, and he treasured the time that he got to have with them, but he didn’t miss them the way he was missing Adam.
He’d never understood that before, how guys could rearrange their entire lives around the person they were dating, but he got it now.
For so long, hockey was the fulcrum his entire life sat atop. Now, that fulcrum was Adam.
He got ready for bed in the hotel room he got to himself—he still couldn’t believe he got his very own hotel room, even though he didn’t mind sharing—and left Adam a voice note to listen to in the morning.
He had a response from Beck that basically amounted to I’m too busy right now, which Skylar doubted.
It didn’t matter. He was Skylar Coburn. Nothing could make him give up.
They had skate the next morning before their game, and Skylar tried to FaceTime Beck again when they got back to the hotel, and finally Beck picked up. He was at home, shirtless, clearly on the couch. Skylar couldn’t tell if he was grouchy or just tired.
“Hey, buddy. I miss you,” Skylar said, trying to cover the most important ground first, in case Beck decided to claim he was “so busy” again.
“You too,” Beck said, his voice heavy. It was weird. In many ways, he and Skylar were opposites, but they both had the same general happy disposition.
“What’s up?”
“Not a whole lot. It’s weird down here now that I don’t have anyone to annoy me. The kid they have me rooming with on the road is respectful of me. It’s unnerving.”
Skylar laughed along with him, even though he could tell the joke wasn’t hitting his eyes. Oh. Oh. Fuck, Skylar was thick as hell for not understanding what was going on. Beck wasn’t just processing the potential end of his career. He was lonely.
“I’ve been trying to annoy you from here,” he said, trying to figure out what his strategy should be for making sure Beck didn’t think he’d forgotten about him.
“I’ve been shit at making time for your annoyances. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, man, I know we’re being funny here and whatever, but seriously. Our friendship didn’t end. It’s as present tense as it’s always been. We’re going to have to figure out how to be long-distance besties.”
“I thought you hated long distance.”
Is that what this was about? Skylar had yapped about not making connections in Iowa for long enough that Beck thought it applied to him?
“I thought you knew you didn’t count in my make no friends, find no lovers in Iowa plan. Our friendship isn’t over. Faaaar from it.”
Beck nodded, and it broke Skylar’s heart to realize the damage he’d done to his friendship.
“When I make it back to Iowa eventually, I’ll grab my PlayStation I left there, and we can schedule some time to log on and play together, all right?”
Beck let out a breath. He didn’t magically look happy, but he looked better than when Skylar first called him.
“Thanks, Burnsie.”
“Thanks for picking up.”
“I promise I’ll be better about it.”
“And don’t hesitate to reach out and bother me right back.”
“We’re about to be sick of each other,” Beck said, and fuck, Skylar hoped so.