36. Colby
THIRTY-SIX
Colby
While we coaches have a meeting in Coach Whelan’s office, a commotion from the locker room grabs our attention. Not just any commotion, a Novi commotion.
“Did he say what I think he said?” Ackerman asks.
Them not knowing Novi the way I do, I can see why they’d be shocked, but this … this is very Novi.
I have no idea what made him say it that loud—so loud we can hear it through a closed door—but I’m stunned.
And trying not to be pissed off. Or scared.
But with the way Ackerman and Whelan are staring at me already, I don’t know how else to feel.
Novi couldn’t give me the heads-up?
I knew this was coming, but I didn’t realize it was coming right now. I’m a mix of pride and anxiety—and a whole lot of confusion because what the hell? Why now?
“Did you know?” Coach Whelan asks me.
“Uh, what? What’s happening?” Can I really play dumb when everyone in this room heard the thicker-than-usual Russian accent say, “I’m gay, bitches”? I wish I could use Novi’s I don’t speak English excuse right about now.
“We should get in there,” Whelan says, and a second later, the entire coaching staff files into the locker room.
The news obviously hasn’t shocked only the coaches but everyone else too.
Well, other than Turkey, who’s sitting next to where Novi stands, his arms still stretched out, which is how I imagine he announced it.
He’s probably waiting for the shock to wear off for everyone to jump up and give him a hug.
I desperately want to go give him a hug, but paranoia over management watching me has me rooted in place.
Novi’s eyes meet mine across the room, and I force a smile.
“You heard the good news too,” he says to the group of us coaches. “Am I fired?”
Coach Whelan splutters. “For being gay? No. Why would you think that? Unless this is some homophobic joke, then we’re going to have issues.”
“Not for that. For this.” He waves around the room, where the rest of the team is still in shock. “I broke them. Sorry.”
Finally, snickers break out around the players.
Turkey stands and puts a hand on Novi’s shoulder. “I, for one, am proud of you. I know it was a difficult thing to do with your home country being behind the times.”
“It’s not so much the entire country. Just the government. My family supports me, and they always have.”
“So, that’s why you’ve been so anti-LGBTQ?” Grady, our captain, asks. “I think I can speak for everyone here when we say we’re happy for you, but it’s a bit of a shock. You’ve always been so anti … everything. Why couldn’t you have said you were an ally?”
Because it’s not that simple, I want to argue, but again, every single part of me is frozen in place. I’m probably too outwardly blasé, and that could bring even more attention.
Ooh, look, a new level of paranoia has been reached: selfish asshole level. Where I can’t bring myself to speak up for what I know is right and a good thing.
“Being gay in Russia is no longer illegal, but anything pro-LGBTQ is considered an extremist act and can be punishable by imprisonment.” Novi hangs his head. “Even something like me taping my stick. Which is why I had never had the guts to do it until recently.”
“What’s changed?” my mouth blurts without permission. Thank fuck it wasn’t something like “I love you.”
“I have a very stubborn sister who refused to leave Russia, and she called to tell me that she’s moving to London. This obviously won’t be immediate, so I do ask all of you to keep it quiet for now, but I wanted you to be the first people to know because we’re a family here.”
Wherever Ezra is right now, he just got the shuddery shiver down his spine and feels like he’s being stabbed in the heart, and he has no idea why.
My confusion and annoyance at the sudden announcement disappears.
Novi doing this makes me happier than anything else could. Elena’s safety—and her husband’s and kids’—was the last obstacle holding Novi back from being himself.
People seem to be looking at me for how to play this. I’m hoping it’s because I’m part of the community and not because they suspect we’re already fucking. Which we are, but … that’s not the point.
So I make myself think of the least telling thing I could say, step forward, and give in to the temptation to hug him. “I am so happy for you.”
I want to hold on longer, but no, the hug was probably already borderline when it comes to being professional.
“Yeah, man,” Everly says. “We’re all happy for you.”
While the rest of the team approach him to give him their support, I slink to the back of the room and try not to freak out about what comes next.
It’s a strange feeling being so overwhelmingly proud and happy for him while at the same time crippled with anxiety for myself.
I never wanted him to have to be closeted, but it made our relationship so much easier to hide.
Obviously, I’m not going to stop seeing him, but I also can’t quit my first NHL coaching job if I want another one.
Having said that, there’s no problem with me looking for other positions.
I told myself I’d be okay with it, and I will be eventually.
It just stings right now, but that’s my issue. Not Novi’s. He deserves this moment.
He deserves everything.
I knew things would change once Novi was out. He’s not even fully out yet—only to the team—and it has already affected things. Like my sleep.
Falling asleep is difficult, but staying asleep is harder, and even though I’m throwing myself into my job even more than before to prove I’m in the right place, the thoughts of it not being enough are what keep me up at night.
Which is why I’m up at the ass crack of dawn again, on my laptop and scouring the internet for possible head coaching jobs in NCAA, juniors, AHL, anywhere.
But without being able to use my connections to ask around, it’s mostly looking at current staff and calculating how long their head coaches might be away from retiring.
Or looking at team stats and trying to pick out who might be on the firing line anytime soon.
It’s starting to become unhealthy.
I sip my morning coffee, which must not be confused with my breakfast coffee, my mid-morning coffee, or my afternoon coffee. I’m a habitual coffee drinker now, thanks to working off very little sleep. The screen in front of me doesn’t change.
I don’t get a magical email from a headhunter who had a hunch I was in the market for a new coaching job. With it being the middle of the season, there would be no reason why they’d assume it’s not going well.
The team might not be on top of the leaderboard for points, but they are almost guaranteed a playoff spot. Why would anyone want to leave that kind of team?
For love.
Apparently.
I can allow myself to think that with bitterness, but the truth is, I know the second Novi wakes and comes out here that I would do anything for him. Just his face is enough for me to feel soft inside.
And as if proving my point, he does just that, but I’m not prepared for him to see what I’m doing, so at the slightest noise, I quickly shut my laptop. Which doesn’t at all look suspicious and make him raise his eyebrow at me.
“You don’t want me to see your porn?” He yawns and helps himself to the leftover coffee from the carafe I brewed earlier.
“Exactly that.”
“Why not? Could be hot.”
“Umm …” Think of something Novi wouldn’t be into … No, wait, don’t do that in case he actually is into it and asks to try it and it’s something I’m not into. Ooh, I know. “It has women in it.”
As suspected, he screws up his face. “Ah. I will pass.”
Why he doesn’t question that a gay guy like me would watch porn with women in it, I’m not going to ask, but good for him for being so open-minded about where I land on the sexuality spectrum. That’s what I’m going to assume is his reasoning.
“You’re up early,” I say.
“Because you are. You have been getting up earlier and earlier.”
“Yeah, well … your snoring wakes me up.”
“I do not snore.”
He does, but it’s a cute snore. Like a pug trying to sleep with their squished nose and tiny nostril cavities.
“If you say so.” I stifle the yawn I’ve been trying to hold in since he yawned, but it breaks free.
“You are tired. Why don’t you try to go back to sleep? We don’t have to be at the arena for morning skate until nine.”
“Okay. Maybe I will.” I stand and make my way to the bedroom, but he stops me on my way past him.
“Wait.” Novi pulls me to him, and despite my coffee breath and his morning breath, we share a kiss that fills me with the same content feeling that has me looking for another job.
I would hate it if I did have to leave, but I need to have a contingency here.
I’ve only just collapsed on Novi’s bed when he comes barging through the doorway with my laptop in his hand. “Why are you looking at hockey teams that are not in NHL?”
I sit up. “Why are you going through my things?”
“Because you lied and said you were watching porn with women.”
Oh. So he knew I was lying. That makes more sense.
“I’m looking at other opportunities, and I have to be realistic. If we’re found out by management and I’m fired, I won’t get another NHL gig.”
“So you are going to look for another job when you don’t need to yet? You’re going to quit?”
“No. Just … if it comes to that, I have to know where I want to go or what league I want to try to get into. NCAA was good money, but the AHL might be a better fit for me.”
Novi places my laptop on the bed and sits on the edge of the mattress by my side. “Why are you so sure we will get found out?”
“I’m not, but I’m saying if we do, I need to accept that I might not have a future in the NHL.”
“But … you do. I will make sure of it.”
“How? Even if they would allow us to date, the second they find out we’ve kept it a secret all this time, they’ll fire me so fast I won’t even have time to collect my stuff.”
“They wouldn’t do that.”
“Okay, I might be exaggerating about not letting me get my stuff, but the firing part is true. It happened to Lane when San Jose found out about him and Oskar, whereas Vance went to team management before anything ever happened between him and Quinn. We don’t know what could happen. So I’m trying to cover my bases.”
Novi hangs his head. “I don’t like this. We should be happy.”
I sit up and put my hand on his back. “I am happier with you than in any job I’ve ever had—including playing hockey.
So I don’t want you to think I’m doubting you or us.
I’m doubting my future with the NHL. That’s all.
I’ll continue to coach. I’ll find another league I love, but I have to readjust my expectations. ”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
“I know. And if I didn’t love you so damn much, I wouldn’t be de-prioritizing my career for you. But I do. And I am.”
“Y-you love me? I mean, of course you do. I am very lovable.”
I smile. “You are. Somehow.”
“I love you too, by the way.”
Yep. I don’t need the NHL. I only need Novi.