Chapter 28
DENALI
THE MOST UNCOMFORTABLE WORKSHOP
Thursday arrived, and my team tried everything to get me to crack. I refused. If they found out what the workshop entailed, I would’ve gotten every excuse in the book to skip it. Hell no. We were jumping into this together.
I waited in our meeting room, the team creeping in, wary, muttering between them.
“Captain?” Bear asked. “Do you want me to…?”
Bear was my alternate captain, but I’d be leading this workshop, not him. I motioned for him to take a seat with everyone else as they exchanged confused glances.
Sémajuste closed the door and nodded to me.
I flipped on the PowerPoint. “This is going to be the most uncomfortable and unpleasant workshop you’ve ever experienced.”
“Wonderful way to start,” Nick remarked.
“It won’t be uncomfortable because of the topic—” I paused, thinking it through. “Maybe it will. I think it’s mostly going to be uncomfortable because I’m the one leading it, but it needs to be done.” I clicked the laptop. “We’re going to talk about women and the respect they deserve.”
Half of my team burst into laughter but that laughter eased when they realized the other half of the team stared at me in painful silence.
Sully pushed out of his chair, gathering his coat. “Welp, I’m gay. Good luck, everybody. Enjoy the workshop. I’m sure it’ll be fun—”
“Sit down,” I warned and he thumped back in his seat. “I know this isn’t how you guys want to spend your Thursday afternoon, but my comments concerning women have been taken the wrong—” I stopped myself. That wasn’t being accountable. “I mean, what I said was wrong. I want to make up for it.”
“Shouldn’t you do that to women?” Nick asked. “Go find a group of them and start apologizing. That’d definitely be more productive.”
“Are you doing this to get Zariah’s attention?” Fridge demanded. “Holding a ‘feminism workshop’ to get laid is not the moral high ground you think it is.”
“This isn’t about that,” I argued. “What I said was fucked-up—wrong—” I corrected myself, aware of my coach watching.
“I don’t want my team to think that was acceptable behavior.
It’s not. Because respect isn’t just about sex.
We’ve all had the ‘no means no’ talks through our hockey programs. If any of you don’t understand consent with sex, do me a favor.
Grab a hammer, and keep hitting yourself on the head until you figure it out. ”
Fridge pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright. Continue.”
“Listening to a woman during sex isn’t good enough, it’s not. We’re not talking about that. This is about…” I fumbled for my notes. “This is about respecting their choices, their goals, who they are. You need to respect a woman’s…anato—anaton—”
“Anatomy?” Bear asked. “Like a body?”
“Denali’s trying to say autonomy,” Fridge muttered.
“Autonomy,” I repeated. “Yeah. I made comments about not valuing women and that’s not a healthy way to view the world. I said those things out of hurt, but that doesn’t make it right, and I’m sorry and I’m trying to make up for it.”
“We’re also taking the opportunity to talk about the respect of wearing condoms and getting tested!” Cleo added. “It’s a two-for-one for uncomfortable conversations!”
“I don’t need to get tested, Mom,” Charlie said. “I don’t feel burning or anything.”
“You can have an STI and no symptoms,” Cleo corrected. “There’s a lot of misinformation out there. Plenty of people don’t realize STIs can be transmitted through things like sharing towels and utensils. Technically, you could be a virgin with an STI.”
“Montoya,” Arvid coughed.
Montoya flamed bright red, but irritation rushed through me at the slight. Before Bear could chime in, I raised my voice. “Arvid? Shut up. And don’t talk again.”
Arvid lapsed into surprised silence, and the rest of my team glanced at me.
Cleo shot me a curious look before she continued. “There’s so much misinformation around condoms too. I mean, they prevent pregnancies. Think about that. I know you’re finally getting money through jersey sales but do any of you really know how expensive a baby is?”
“You don’t need to wear condoms if you eat it afterwards,” Pickles remarked.
More silence followed. Fridge’s eyebrows furrowed. “Is that a joke? Pickles, are you joking?”
“Eat what?” Nick’s mouth fell open. “Oh my fucking god. Pickles, tell me you’re not nutting in girls and eating it because you think in your dim fucking brain it prevents pregnancies?”
“Let’s keep this workshop on task,” Sémajuste reminded us, but he paused. “Pickles, you don’t really do that?”
Pickles gazed around the room. “Doesn’t everybody do that?”
I was frozen to the floor, and the room was eerily quiet.
Cleo clapped her hands. “Everybody up! Denali will do his presentation on the road, we’re going to the STI clinic off of East Klugman, let’s go!”
I finished my talk through the parking lot, and then we crammed into the waiting room at the free testing clinic. I couldn’t believe our workshop morphed into this. None of us could look each other in the eye.
Bear volunteered to give blood and pee in a cup first before clapping me on the back. He congratulated me for giving the worst workshop he’d ever attended.”
“You’re welcome,” I muttered.
The rest of us sat in silence. The Wi-Fi was shot and there was no service, so I couldn't do homework. The only sound was the occasional tut-tut from the nurse about a positive chlamydia test before she’d call one of my teammates over for a ‘special chat’ about their results.
My eyes drifted to the envelope sticking out of my backpack pocket, the one Zariah left in my locker.
It was a message from her, a secret between us. Did that mean…I could send her something too? I rolled over the idea while the nurse sighed over another positive test, calling over Charlie.
I needed something good to send to Zariah. Something worthwhile to write to her.
The nurses’ station had a fresh envelope for me, and I tapped my pen over the sheet of paper. I couldn’t think of anything astounding to write—that was Zariah’s job. So what could I offer instead of words?
“Are you writing a letter to Zariah?” Fridge asked. “That might be the only smart thing you’ve done concerning her.”
My eyes darted to him. “Can you mind your own fucking business?”
“You’re writing a letter to Zariah?” Elijah arched an eyebrow. “Why? Use your legs and go talk to her.”
“He’s being romantic,” Fridge retorted.
“Who’s being romantic?” Buttons asked.
Fridge shook his head. “Denali—he’s writing Zariah a letter.”
I stared in disbelief as more of my team crowded our area. Pickles tried to grab the letter to inspect it, but I yanked it away from him. I hunkered over it. “Get away from me. It’s private.”
The guys chortled, amused, and I slipped out two twenties from my wallet.
Nick grinned. “Are you trying to buy her panties? You’re going the wrong way, Captain.”
I ignored him and Fridge caught my attention. “Word of advice, put your name at the bottom of the letter. You want Zariah to focus not just on the letter but that you were the one who sent it.”
I hesitated. It was only a couple of sentences, but what if Fridge was right? Ignoring the growing crowd, debating on what Zariah would say when she saw it, I kept my hand around my words to prevent anyone from reading.
I almost wrote Denali and stopped myself. For the final line, I jotted down what I’d always signed my letters to her.