29. Novi
TWENTY-NINE
Novi
I love Elena and the kids being here, but I end up with a run of four days away right in the middle of their visit, and then yesterday, we were in Anaheim for the day.
It’s one of the downsides of this career.
We are so busy and play so much that during the season, we have little time in our lives for something that isn’t hockey.
I have a lot of respect for my teammates with kids who try to be present in their lives, but I know it is hard on them.
This is why I will adopt once I’ve retired and can spend my entire days teaching them to play hockey instead.
It would also be a lot easier if I had a certain coach beside me to do that …
“I made sure you have excellent tickets for tonight’s game,” I tell Elena on my way out of the house. “And if you see Colby there, remember that you do not know him.”
“Who?”
“Exactly.” I kiss her head goodbye and leave.
In two days, they’re flying to Canada to visit our parents before heading back home again.
It’s the part I hate most. Yes, I will maybe convince Colby to stay over more once they’re gone, but the kids are growing quickly.
I miss them. It’s also been too long since I’ve seen my brother-in-law.
If I come out, I will likely never go to Russia again.
Then it’s all on Elena to visit. To take the children and the flight. How often can she do that with a newborn?
The frustration is getting too much though. Hiding, faking, being accused of homophobia.
It used to be so easy to ignore.
The difference is that I don’t want to ignore it now.
I get in my morning skate, go home to a quiet house for a big meal and a nap, then head back to the arena.
The buzz is infectious, people everywhere as they get ready for the game.
My teammates are either quiet or too loud, and the coaching staff have last-minute meetings and check-ins.
Making sure they’re happy with the lines.
Going around and giving pep talks and checking we’re ready. I love all the buildup.
Colby approaches where I’m sitting in front of my cubby, iPad in his hands, professional “we barely know each other” mask that he wears so well in place. “Knees,” he says, not looking at me.
It’s so cute when he plays coy.
I tap his foot with mine, and he drags his eyes up to meet my gaze. “I have very good knees,” I reply, and he knows better than anyone how good I am on them.
“You do.” Amusement flares in his gaze. “So look after them. Especially the right.”
He walks away before I can say anything else, and Turkey chokes back a laugh. “Subtle, Novi.”
“I do not know what you mean.”
“Poor Coach Kessinger. He’s just trying to do his job.”
“Da. He does it very well.”
“Please don’t tell me how well.”
“Very, very well.”
Turkey swipes his hand over his face. “Lucky me, being the one you get to share gay sex jokes with.”
“We had a moment. We are bonded now.”
“Did I get a say in that?”
“People are begging to be best friends with Radimir Novicov, and you’re the chosen one.”
He gives me a dry look. “Are those people in the room with us?”
“I am a fun-loving guy.” I pretend to sigh. “It is a curse sometimes. To be so popular.”
Turkey pats me on the shoulder. “Delulu as always. Never change.”
I feign confusion. “Who is this delulu?”
“It’s slang for delusional . Which you are, my brother.”
Ha. Another point for Turkey on my list. Life is sweet.
“Novi?” Coach Whelan calls. “Visitor.”
There’s not long before we need to get ready for warm-ups, so I’m clueless about who would be waiting, but when I step out into the hall and find Elena with the kids, I’m immediately concerned.
“Was there a problem with your seats?”
“Nope,” she says and then switches to Russian. “There is a problem with my brother . ”
“Rude.”
She smirks and holds something out to me. “I have been researching.”
My gaze drops as I reach out and take the rainbow stick tape from her. “What is this?”
“I know you won’t come out. I understand why, and it hurts me. I want to be here supporting you as you, not as this straight man you pretend to be.”
“But—”
“I’m the older sister. I’ve been a grown-up longer than you, and I know you think I’m a bit of a silly idiot sometimes, because I am, but I can protect myself—even Colby said so. I can make my own choices, and so can you.”
“I don’t understand.”
She flicks the tape I’m holding. “People use this in warm-ups, yes?”
“Yes …”
“Then I want you to use it. I want to see my whole brother on that ice. If you won’t come out, at least give me that.”
I’m shocked into silence for once. “I …”
“I’m not asking. If you’re not ready, that’s one thing, but if you are … please. I love you. Let me see you happy.”
“People will talk.”
“Straight players show their support with it all the time.”
“Yes, but most of those players don’t have a reputation for being homophobic . ” I turn the tape over and over in my hands. There have been so many moments in my life where my teammates used this, and I had no interest in playing that game. Now … I want it. I want it so much it physically hurts me.
She wraps her hands around mine. “You can do it, Radimir . ”
I can do it. Sure, people will talk, but I don’t have to answer them. I don’t have to give an explanation. I don’t have to do anything other than put some tape on my stick and warm up for the game. That’s it.
“ Time to go, kids ,” Elena says, and I watch her gather them up and head along the hall.
I have no clue how she got down here, but that’s my sister for you.
The locker room has the same big energy as it did earlier, but I block most of it out. I rub my thumb over the rough tape, still debating with myself, but then a flare of indignation takes over.
Fuck it.
I’m allowed this one thing.
I keep my gaze on my stick the whole time I tape it up, not wanting to see any of my teammates’ reactions. I’m going to be confident but silent about it.
Only the second I set the tape down beside me, Turkey snatches it up again.
Without a word, he wraps his stick as well.
Then he presses a kiss to his work. “What a sexy-looking stick,” he says, tossing the tape at Landers, who shrugs and tapes his up too.
This warm feeling in my chest is usually only reserved for Colby.
I can feel some of the looks being sent my way, but I’m too focused on the guys beside me, who, without even knowing it, have taken the pressure completely off my shoulders.
It’s one thing to be the only one out there; it’s another when I’m part of a group.
There will still be speculation, considering how against this I’ve been in the past, but it’s a start.
What straight men don’t realize most of the time is that it’s literally that easy for them. No overthinking. No questioning every choice.
It’s a word. An action. An adjustment to their belief.
With something so easy, they’ve not only made me feel safe but human.
I wish everyone understood the impact they could have by doing so little.
We get dressed, lace our skates, and then it’s time for the warm-up skate.
I refuse to let myself be nervous because it’s the first time I’m ever getting to take the ice as myself. That is a freeing feeling, knowing that my sister and Colby will both see me.
The arena is filling slowly, expected to be almost full by game time, but I ignore the fans and focus on what I’m here to do. We trade passes, shoot bullets at the net, stretch, and get our muscles loose while adjusting our mindset. It’s the biggest part for me.
And every time I glimpse that rainbow at the end of my stick, it makes me smile.
This might not be a big moment, but it’s my moment.
I look around at the crowd, and it hits me: I don’t want to wait until I retire.
I want to play as my whole self and inspire people like me, and if it makes the homophobes mad, that’s even better. One of my biggest regrets was not getting to play in the charity hockey game a year ago. I don’t want to regret this too.
Warm-up is over too soon, and I leave the ice feeling hopeful but tired. Wanting something doesn’t mean that I can have it, and while that felt great, fundamentally, nothing has changed.
On the way back to the locker room, I’m stopped by a reporter. “Novicov, that rainbow looks great on your stick. You’ve always been so resistant to anything Pride related in the past. What’s changed?”
In my mind, I picture myself opening my mouth and telling her that nothing has changed. That I’ve always been gay, and I love it.
In reality, I fall back on old tricks. “Sorry, I don’t speak English.”
Then, I walk away before she can ask anything else.
Back in the locker room, I retape my stick, and with that, the moment is a memory, and I’m Radimir Novicov again.
And I have a game to win for my sister.