5. Hayden
Chapter 5
Hayden
It’s nearly one in the morning before I get home after the game. I have to be at the arena in nine hours to do it all over again for game two tomorrow, but that doesn’t stop me from obsessing about Pope. How could I not after seeing the way he played? That man should have been skating for the Devils tonight, no question. There has to be a reason for it. The fact that he’s not on either of my player watchlists for current or previous injuries only makes the matter more intriguing.
Riding on the combined high of a winning game and a new mystery, I start with a simple Google search.
It’s not long before I’m falling down an Ethan Pope rabbit hole.
He’s under a Detroit Devils contract like the majority of our team’s players. The Devils snagged him after only two years of college after seeing him play on the All-American team. According to a player profile written just a day after he signed his contract, Ethan Pope was just a kid from a low-income area of Boston who worked his way up in the hockey world using second-hand gear and extra skate time at a local arena’s after-school program. He wasn’t on anyone’s radar until an exhibition game that put him in front of all the right kinds of people. Then he had everyone’s attention.
For the rest of his junior career, he was practically drooled over. It was a shock to a lot of people when he chose to go to college instead of putting his hat in the ring for the draft. The article doesn’t say what changed, but considering he only stayed two years before joining the Devils, something must have swayed him. It was speculated at the end of the article that Pope would probably be playing on the first or second line for the Devils come this season, something that clearly didn’t end up happening. There’s no explanation for that, but there is a link to a video that I click on next.
It’s a compilation video made up of clips from various interviews about Pope. It starts with his college coach, the man raving about how Pope has some of the best vision on the ice he’s ever seen. “The greatest player to ever skate for me. Complete natural, but with a work ethic to back up the talent. He’s creative. Great at improvising. Good head on his shoulders. Born leader, too. I was going to make him captain this coming year.” The man chuckles, shaking his head. “I’m sad to see him go, but I can’t wait to watch him on my TV, even if he’s not staying in Boston.”
Next is a quick sound bite from the team’s general manager, calling Pope, “An impressive young man whose career I really look forward to fostering.”
The Devils’ coach, Tommy Mattheson, is after that. “Ethan Pope is a tremendous player. He’s intense. Focused. He has soft hands and a damn good shot. He’ll be an incredible asset in the lineup and could very well be a generational talent. I can’t wait to see what he brings this year.”
The video suggested for me to watch next is titled Ethan Pope: Devils Training Camp Part One . Since most teams make their final decisions regarding rosters at the end of training camp, I figure that’s my best shot at figuring out why Pope is playing for the Storm instead of the Devils.
The video opens with a montage of pictures and short reels of Pope, some of him just skating or shooting pucks in nets, others of him grinning with players or laughing with his head tossed back or doing trick shots. Then it cuts to a crackling microphone and a sweaty player I don’t recognize. He nods along as the reporter asks what seems to be a follow-up question. “Everyone is talking about Ethan Pope, despite it only being day one. What are your thoughts so far?”
The player grins. “That kid shows promise for sure. Great work ethic, takes advice well, sees things even I don’t see when we’re out on the ice. I’d love to have him on my line, if not this year then maybe next, if he keeps working like he is. He’s amazing, yeah.”
There are a few shots of the player with Pope before cutting to a new interview. This one has a different background and a different reporter. The player being interviewed has a goalie mask pushed up onto his forehead as he squints at the camera like it’s taking a lot of effort to understand his life.
The look makes sense when he responds to the question, “Who is the player to watch, in your opinion?” with a heavily accented, stilted English. “Pope is good. He ’ad some great shots on me net. Was ahead of lot of guys on ice. I will be happy to have him scoring at opposite goal, not mine, this year.”
The clip transitions into a few reels of Pope scoring on the goalie before leading into another interview. This player I actually know—Ryan Cossa. He’s been in the league for a long time, even back when Ian was still forcing me to watch games with him. I wasn’t aware he’d been moved to the Devils, but I haven’t kept up with the happenings in the NAPH since Ian and I stopped being roommates.
The reporter smiles as he stands sweaty and waiting for her to ask her question. “Cossa, you were chosen to be Ethan Pope’s mentor during camp. What can you tell us about him now that he has a few days under his belt?”
“He was a little green at first, for sure. He had that rookie energy, like a bull in a china shop, ya know? But he’s calming down, and yeah—yeah, he looks great. He’s settling into his element now and his playing style is beautiful.” Cossa chuckles. “Kid is crazy fast, too. I think he’s pushing me just as much as I’m pushing him, which is great, even if he makes me feel a little old.”
“Don’t say that! You can never get old. You have to stick around. We can’t have the Devils without Cossa,” the reporter teases, getting another laugh out of the man. “We’ve heard from some other guys that he’s got a good head on his shoulders. What are your thoughts on that?”
“Oh, for sure. He’s got a great attitude, very humble. He’s eager to learn. Not once has he shied away from advice or corrections. He’s even asking all of us what he can do better. Asking the coaches. Yeah, great kid. Great player. I’m happy to have him under my wing.” He grins. “He seems pretty happy, too, though I don’t know if I can take all the credit for that. My wife has made him dinner two nights in a row, and he’s pretty starry-eyed whenever she brings out the food, so I’ve got that going for me.”
The reporter laughs before asking, “There’s a rumor that you’ve invited him to board with you this year. Is that true?”
Cossa smirks. “Let’s see how camp goes.”
The day after that, the Devils’ captain, Connor Jackson said, “That kid was the first one here the last two days and the last one to leave. He cleaned up. Asked what he could do to help us veterans. He respects his place and is willing to learn and put in the work. His attitude is great. He takes chirps like a champ. It doesn’t hurt that he’s a beaut on the ice. I think he’s just what we need this season to really bring an edge to things.”
The video ends after that with a promise for a part two to be coming soon. I go to the person’s profile, ready to listen to more people rave about Pope, only to find there isn’t a part two. Looking at the account’s videos in chronological order, Ethan Pope: Devils Training Camp Part One is the last video. If previous videos are any indication, there will probably be a video added in the next day or two about the Devils’ first game, but I doubt Ethan will be mentioned considering he wasn’t there.
I just don’t understand why he wasn’t there.
It seemed everyone was on the same page regarding the roster. Even the coach had talked like it was a done deal. There were fifty-eight players at training camp and only twenty-three spots on the roster, but it sounded like Ethan Pope had one of those spots reserved.
The rabbit hole spirals a little out of control after that.
I watch clip after clip, some the same clip just shared by different accounts, or the same thing but from a different angle. He was a part of Team 1 on the first few days of camp, the same team as both the captain and Cossa. There are clips of him scrimmaging against Team 2. Then Team 3. There are multiple angles of him scoring goals.
There’s a thirst-trap video of him made by a Devils fan that’s a compilation of him practicing, scrimmaging, and doing dryland conditioning. I may or may not watch it three times. It’s only a seventy-two second video, so it’s really not as excessive as it sounds.
When he was interviewed at the end of day three, he was all huge grins and underhanded flirting with a confidence that was just short of cocky. At the very end of the video, the team captain walked by. He ruffled Pope’s hair and said, “Yo, Pope! Lookin’ good.”
Pope lit right up, looking like a kid with his hero. Even his cheeks flushed pink. Just before the video cut, he looked back at the camera and said, “Like I said, it’s been amazing.”
He’s stunning in that moment, taking my breath away as I stare at the final image of him grinning, YouTube asking me if I’d like to watch it again. I don’t, mostly for my own sanity.
There’s not much to show from the next day at camp. He’s more in the background, not doing much, even though he’s on the ice the same amount of time.
Sunday is the first preseason game. He works his ass off, scoring a goal and working on the special teams line to kill a penalty in the third. The team wins and he cheers and jumps and everything seems completely fine.
When he’s interviewed after the game, he looks exhausted. There’s always a pause before his responses, his words slow and stunted like it hurts to pull them out. His eyes are dead. When a teammate walks by and pats him on the back, he flinches away.
There’s nothing from him Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday. One reporter asks the captain if he thinks Pope is off his game, but the captain laughs the question off and says the kid is still just getting his feet under him.
Thursday was a day off before the team traveled for their second preseason game.
Friday, Ethan Pope didn’t report to camp.
At first, the news was vague. A lot of, “We’re not prepared to comment,” or, “We’re certainly missing him today.” There was one report that the team had contacted the hotel he was staying at, looking for him, but the team denied the allegation or any indication that they didn’t know where Ethan Pope was. They didn’t comment on the rumors that he didn’t travel with the team for the game.
When he didn’t show again on Saturday or Sunday, rumors flew of an injury. People analyzed every moment of footage they had of him at that first game and the following three days of practice. Was this a sign of an ankle injury? Was that a sign of his wrist hurting him? Did it seem like he was coming down with an illness?
On the following Monday, the team released a statement that Ethan Pope was unresponsive in communication and had not been in touch with the team regarding his disappearance. Shortly after, a source said that the police had been in contact with Pope and had confirmed he was not in any danger or harm.
Two days later, on the last day of training camp, the Devils announced their final roster.
Ethan Pope wasn’t on it.
In the time between that and yesterday, the rumors and conspiracies grew out of control. Was he injured? Did he go on a bender? Was it drugs? Girls? Vegas? An illness? Cancer? Was he even alive?
The Devils never commented again.
When I search Storm news to see if anyone had anything to say after Pope’s first game last night, I find a clip of a reporter interviewing him in the hall outside the dressing room. My stomach twists as I watch all of his happiness vanish when she asks about training camp.
I know she was just doing her job. It’s the question that everyone is burning to have an answer to. Hell, it’s the question I’m burning to have an answer to. But that look on his face… fuck . No wonder he didn’t want to celebrate last night. No wonder his I’m fine sounded like complete bullshit.
What the fuck happened on that day off? Is whatever it was over? Or is he still caught up in it?
I sit back with a groan, realizing this hasn’t helped at all. Not only am I more confused than ever when it comes to the mystery that is Ethan Pope, but I’ve also lost over an hour of potential sleep. I catch a glimpse out the window when I stand to go to bed and groan again at the sight of the near-whiteout conditions.
I pull out my phone and text Ian, not caring what time it is. Fuck you.
The following day is too chaotic for Ian and I to talk about anything more than game-specific things, especially once the game starts and the team falls apart. Ian’s too busy yelling his head off at everyone to get their shit together. I’m too busy catering to injuries and keeping my eye on Pope as he plays worse by the minute.
The moment the horn announces the end of the game, Pope shuts down. He doesn’t look at anyone as they all filter into the dressing room. He doesn’t lift his head when Ian gives his half-angry, half-encouraging speech. He doesn’t even join the others for a shower, just stripping his gear before tugging on joggers and a hoodie over his sweaty underclothes. He adds a Red Sox cap on his head, pulling it down low until his face is hidden before disappearing without a word.
My mind is still on him hours later as I’m wiping down the surfaces in my room, preparing to call it a night.
“Fuck you, too,” Ian says from behind me, his voice coming from the direction of the door.
I’m too tired to smirk, but I manage a small huff of laughter. “After today, I’d like to double my original fuck you, actually.”
“Consider it doubled.” He hikes himself up onto the table I literally just finished wiping off. I raise an eyebrow at him. He grins. “Tripled?”
I slap the rag onto his thigh and slam the spray bottle dangerously close to his crotch between his separated legs. “Clean it when you’re done and we can stay doubled.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” he teases before lying back completely. I can’t argue since he’s agreed to clean it himself, but I still roll my eyes. “So, want to tell me what exactly caused the original fuck you?”
I rest back against the counter with a sigh. “What’s the story with Ethan Pope?”
“Huh.” He squints up at the ceiling, his thick eyebrows pulling together. “Not where I thought this was going, but okay. What happened?”
“You mean, other than him going missing during one of the most important weeks of his life—and definitely of his career—and no one ever figuring out what happened?”
“Yeah. Other than that.”
“His behavior is strange, don’t you think?”
He turns his head to look at me. “No, actually. What have I missed?”
“Well, he’s… tired.”
He chuckles. “Yeah? He’s a professional hockey player. They’re all tired.”
“Not like this. I’m not sure that he sleeps well.”
“He had a hard time that one night. He told me it wasn’t an ongoing issues. Has he mentioned struggling since?”
“Well, no. But he does night skates. Late ones.”
“I’m aware. I get an email every time someone enters the facility using their card. He’s been doing it since his first day in town. Usually two or three times a week.”
“And that doesn’t concern you? He’s tired enough as it is, don’t you think?”
“No. He’s a professional athlete. One who definitely has something more to prove than the others here.” He sits up, shrugging. “He’s an adult. He knows his limits.”
“The way he reacts to the guys sometimes is off,” I argue, jumping to the next thing on my mental list of clues.
“Off,” he echoes.
“He flinches when they hit his back or grab at him.”
Ian laughs. “Well, yeah. Probably bruised to fucking hell and back. Kid takes hits like a champ.”
“No. It’s not that kind of—” I stop, shaking my head. Am I going crazy? Is this in my head? “He goes quiet. He withdraws. Have you noticed that?”
“I mean, he’s never really the life of the party. I’m sure when he’s tired or after a loss like tonight he’s even quieter than usual. That’s to be expected.”
I growl under my breath, pissed he’s not finding this as important as I do. Or maybe pissed at myself for making up problems that don’t even exist.
It comes down to one thing, though—the center of Pope’s entire mystery. “Do you know why he missed the second half of training camp?”
Guilt passes over his expression before he looks away. “No. I don’t think anyone does, other than him.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“It’s not up to me who is on my team. The Devils own it. They give me players and I work with what I have. They sent him to me. My job is to develop him until they’re ready to have him back.”
I run the tip of my thumb along my bottom lip, studying the man who has been my best friend for nearly three decades. The man who is practically my brother. “You’re not this glib about a player. I don’t give a fuck if they technically belong to the Devils, they’re still your guys. I know you, Ian. What the fuck is going on? Why don’t you care about this kid?”
He bristles, sitting up straight and pulling his shoulders back. If I was anyone else, I’d be worried he was about to punch me. Ian would never hit me though. Even at the height of his fighting days back in high school while he worked through his father’s death, he never once took a swing at me. “Don’t ever accuse me of not caring about one of my players, Hayden.”
“Then why the fuck aren’t you listening to me?”
“Because—” he says a little too loudly. He flinches, glancing at the door, then leans forward and says in a lower voice, “Because I see the way you look at him, Hayden. I see it. You’re making something up that isn’t there because you want a reason to keep watching. So, no. No, I don’t think anything is going on with him. I think he’s a good-looking man who has caught your eye.”
Now it’s my turn to bristle. “Don’t you dare. He’s an athlete. Fucking him could ruin my career. My reputation. So, no. No, I’m not doing this because I want to stick my cock in the pretty straight boy, you asshole. I’m doing it because something is wrong with him. I know it in my gut. And when the fuck has my gut ever been wrong, Ian? Name a single fucking time.”
He looks away, his jaw working for a few seconds. Then he sighs. “Alright. Yeah, fuck. Alright. I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I’m being completely honest with you though, I genuinely believe Pope is just struggling with the fact that he fucked up. That would weigh heavily on anyone. I don’t think it’s something we need to worry too much about, but I’ll keep an eye on him, okay?”
He has a point, of course he does, but that point doesn’t address the fact that something had to happen in the first place. With what’s been said about him in interviews and what I’ve seen of him myself, it’s hard to buy the story that he just fucked up. This wasn’t drugs or a bender or running off with some girl. I can feel it in my gut. Something more happened. Something Pope may not have even been able to control. Something worthy of keeping secret, even if it meant losing his spot on the Devils.
I remember what Pope said to me the first time we spoke. You’ll tell Coach.
Maybe this was a mistake.
Maybe Ian isn’t the answer to this at all.
Maybe Ian is unknowingly part of the problem.
“You’re probably right,” I lie, thankful I don’t have any obvious ticks that will give me away to someone who knows me so well. “I appreciate you keeping an eye out. I will too.”