30. Colby
THIRTY
Colby
I’m equally proud of Novi and terrified, but my eyes are only watery because of the pride I have for him.
I don’t approach him in the locker room after warm-ups or while everyone’s getting ready for the game to start because I can tell he’s trying to sink in on himself.
A couple of the others are already bringing attention to him more than he’d like, so I don’t want to add to that.
But because I’m on the bench tonight, receiving plays sent from Ackerman, who’s cutting tape as the game happens, it’s really difficult not to approach him.
I’m on iPad duty, and all I’m hoping for is for Novi to fuck up somehow or for me to need to go to him so I can tell him how moved I am by what he did tonight.
Though maybe it’s better I stay where I am.
I don’t trust myself to refrain from wrapping my arms around him.
This isn’t the place for that, and I need to remember my professionalism, which is nonexistent thanks to Novi.
The main thing keeping me from saying anything is that his play is flawless, and I don’t want to take that away from him.
He hasn’t scored yet, but it’s only the first period, and he’s leading in shots on goal.
He wants it bad, and as long as he keeps the puck inside that offensive zone, one’s bound to go in.
My eyes are glued to him as he skates up to a face-off with Anton Hayes. I saw Ezra have some words with him in between plays before, and I can imagine Ezra telling him he’s proud of him too.
It was only rainbow tape on a stick, but for someone who has never been able to show his real self, it’s a symbol of something bigger than him, bigger than the NHL.
Novi and Anton exchange words, and whatever Anton has to say makes Novi pause for that fraction of a second long enough for Anton to get the jump on the puck.
Anton passes to Ezra, who passes to Deidrich.
Their playing is top-tier, and it’s obvious they’ve been playing together for years because it’s so seamless.
Like it always does when I think the opposing team is going to score, my stomach jumps into my throat.
The home crowd gets on their feet, anticipating the worst. Boston keeps passing between the five of them on the ice, the puck moving so fast it’s difficult for even me to follow.
I have no idea how Flores keeps up, but he does, and when Anton shoots backward to Ezra, and Ezra goes for his famous slapshot that’s almost impossible to stop, he’s ready.
Either that, or it’s a fluke when the puck bounces off his body and rebounds right onto Novi’s blade.
There’s a bit of a scrum, Anton and Deidrich trying to get control of the puck again, but Novi and Turkey have this. Novi passes to Turkey, pushes past Anton, and then Turkey passes back to him.
Ezra and his defense partner, Kosik, try to stop them, skating backward better than most people can go forward, but Turkey and Novi become an unstoppable force.
Novi knows the exact moment to pass backward to Percy, our D-man, while he breaks Ezra and Kosik apart.
And in that moment, Percy achieves what Ezra attempted only thirty seconds ago.
His slapshot doesn’t miss, and we’re the first to get on the board. My man gets a point for the assist.
My man.
I don’t know when exactly I started thinking of him that way, but it makes sense. I want to spend every free moment I have with him. I want more with him, while at the same time, I know it’s next to impossible.
Why does timing have to be a cruel bitch?
It’s the same ol’ argument I’ve been having with myself, and I don’t see it changing anytime soon. Not until our situation changes.
The biggest problem with that is it’s difficult for me to see how it could possibly change for the better.
There are all these things I want with him: public dates, a relationship that we don’t have to hide from the media or team management.
But with Novi and me already fraternizing behind everyone’s backs, I don’t have high hopes that they’ll allow us to have our happy ending.
Not without the consequences of either losing my job or Novi being pushed out before retirement. It’ll most likely be the former.
Oskar and Lane left San Jose because of past managements’ actions after their relationship came out, and we’re in a very similar situation.
Maybe if we went to the organization first, there’d be a chance they’d be okay with it, but we can’t do that until Novi comes out to the world.
And it might be too late because lines have already been crossed.
While being too much in my head, Boston retaliates with a goal of their own, but Head Coach Whelan wants to review the play. It’s not until his hand lands on my shoulder that I snap out of my Novi trance and get to work bringing up the replay on the iPad from one of our many cameras.
We only have a small window to challenge the goal if it’s offside, which Whelan thinks it is. But if we challenge it and it’s deemed to be good, we’ll have to go on the penalty kill because it’ll be classed as a delay of game and wasting time.
Because of my fumble, we only get to watch the footage over once, but Whelan is confident it was offside.
We challenge the goal, and the entire team holds a collective breath. When those magic words are spoken, “After review of the play, it is deemed Boston was offside, so no goal,” we all finally breathe again.
After that, Boston is rattled and can’t seem to land another one in the net. They do, but not until well into the third period, and we’ve scored twice more in between. Pulling their goalie in the last three minutes doesn’t help them because Novi scores on an empty net.
We walk away with the win, and lightness beams from Novi’s smile.
Of course, his teammates comment how psycho he looks and that he should be happy, ignoring him when he says, “This is my happy face. I am always happy.”
Lately, because of him, so am I.
By the time I wrap things up with Ackerman in the cutting room, Novi is nowhere to be seen. I have texts from Ezra telling me to meet them at Oskar and Lane’s house for a Queer Collective catch-up, and I’m assuming Novi got them too.
I love that they’re including me even though I’m not a player, but I was kind of hoping to have a Novi night. Alone. Naked. I want to show him with my mouth how proud I am of him.
I text Novi to see if he’ll be at Oskar’s, but he doesn’t respond by the time I get to my car, so before I turn the car on, I pull my phone out again to call him.
That’s when his hand lands on my shoulder, and I drop my phone and jump a mile high in my seat.
“Payback’s a bitch?”
Even if he scared the crap out of me, I’m happy to see him. “Aww, we have a running bit already.”
“Our bits run?”
“You know what I mean. Stop trying to get another point on your little scorepad.”
“I forgot you know my game.”
“I can’t believe no one else has ever picked up on it.”
“No one gets me like you do.”
I both love and hate how he makes it sound like I’m special. That I’m the only one who understands him. Like I was made for him. He’s making it more and more difficult to protect my career over my feelings for him.
“We going home to your place?” I ask.
“I have to go to Oskar’s first.”
“Is Ezra forcing you? I’ve heard he can be demanding when two queer players are in the same city. Like the world will implode if they don’t combine their queer powers.”
“No. Well, yes, he threatened violence, which is cute, but no, I have to go see my bestie so I can gloat about kicking his ass and tease him over the unallowed goal.”
I will not be selfish in this moment. I won’t be. “How much trouble do you think I’ll be in if I skip it? I’m not really in the Collective. I’m like the adoptive puppy following them around.”
“You have to be there. This is why I hijacked your back seat.”
“I’ll go. If you want me there.”
He scoffs. “Now who speaks bad English?”
“How was that bad English?”
“Because it makes no sense. I want you everywhere with me.”
Aww.
“Besides, we’ll be at Oskar and Lane’s house, which is technically in public but also within the safety of the Queer Collective, who are vowed to silence when it comes to me.”
My lips twitch. “You made them take a vow of silence?”
“No. They super nicely offered it to me. It was weird.”
“Were you, by any chance, smiling at them when they did it?”
“I was! How did you know?”
“Just a hunch.” A hunch that they were scared to death by him.
“Okay, let’s go make an appearance.” The thought of walking into a social gathering with Novi on my arm like we’re properly together makes my heart beat faster.
In a good way. And who knows? Maybe in the long run, this could be our loophole.
We may not be able to have a public relationship until he retires, but this might be public enough.
I pull out of the parking lot, double-checking no one is around to see us leave together, but all the players are gone, and the only one who might still be around is Ackerman, but I left him finishing up the video files for the morning meeting.
“Oh, you should play my game with me,” Novi says when we’re on the road. “Everyone in the Collective is good at correcting me. They think they’re doing me a favor. They’re some of my highest point scorers this season.”
I shake my head. “Does anyone ever not fall for it or ignore you?”
“Coach Whelan. He is no fun.”
I love the way he pouts. Actually, I love the way he does most things.
When we pull up outside Oskar and Lane’s house, Novi practically jumps out of the still-rolling car to get to the front door.
I’d like to think it’s because he’s excited we can be like an actual couple here, and God knows I’m dying to be able to kiss him for the first time all night.
But as I catch up to him and the door swings open with Oskar standing there with Ezra’s and Anton’s voices filtering out from inside, Novi says, “Did they already tell you how badly I kicked their donkey?”
Oskar cocks his head. “You mean ass?”
“This is what I said.” Novi pats Oskar’s shoulder and lets himself inside, but not before winking at me over his shoulder.
I go to step past Oskar myself when he cuts me off.
“Arriving together?”
I wonder how much Lane has told him. “We do work out of the same arena. Carpooling is good for the environment.”
Oskar nods solemnly. “I’ve heard that. So is showering together. Saves water.”
Ignoring his blatant prying, I say, “It’s true. It’s why hockey players shower together. Or so I’ve heard.”
“Lies. We all shower together for the orgies.”
“Heard that,” Lane calls from the other room.
“That man has the hearing of a bat.” And even though Oskar says this on practically a whisper, Lane’s retort is loud.
“Only when it comes to you and group sex.”
“He’s such a jealous man,” Oskar says.
“I’m starting to think the real reason I didn’t make it in hockey is that I am not ridiculous enough. You and Novi sound practically the same.”
We make our way down the hall to where the others are sitting at a high-top kitchen counter, but Oskar says, “Can confirm. It is a prerequisite to be ridiculous to make it in the NHL.”
Anton clears his throat, but Oskar waves him off.
“You don’t count. You fell for one twice as ridiculous as the normal hockey player, so you cancel each other out.”
Novi pats the stool next to him, and the second my ass lands in the seat, Ezra turns to both of us.
“Have you fucked yet?”
Anton backhands him, and Oskar laughs.
“Exhibit A.”
Yet, every single person in this room is staring at us, waiting for the answer, but it’s not my place to say, so I wait on bated breath for words to come out of Novi’s mouth.
Any words.