Hat Trick 3: Penalty Shot (3 page)

“What was that?” I yanked the sheet back up to cover myself, feigning shock at what he’d done. “What did you just say?”

He winked at me. “I didn’t want your nipple to be left out.”

Alex could be so off-the-wall sometimes, and I loved it. “I appreciate that. You never said, how long have you been up?”

“Couple hours. My legs were super restless. I couldn’t sleep, so I got some work done. Turned out to be a good jump on the day.” He pushed himself up and off the bed and threw the covers off me.

“Your legs woke you up? That’s no good.” I got up, stretched, and padded over to the mini-fridge to get water. “It seems like there’s something going on at least once a week that’s not quite right.” I drank from the bottle before pouring some into a measuring cup so I could make our oatmeal.

He sighed as he grabbed our bowls and measured out the oats, which was part of our carefully crafted routine for mornings we had practice. “It’s probably nothing. We push our bodies hard. Maybe I’m not recovering enough.”

“It’s gone on for months though. The trainers and Doc are always around so there’s no reason not to get checked.” I popped the glass measuring cup into the microwave and got it going. “You’re right, it’s probably nothing, but if it is, you need to know.”

He looked at me for a long moment. His expression threw me, almost like a little kid that was scared. The beep of the microwave snapped him out of it.

“It’s just, you know, I’m hardly ever sick, maybe just a cold now and then. The last time I was seriously laid up was…well, you know what that was.”

Yeah, I did. Zack and his friends.

Alex brought the bowls, along with spoons, over to his desk and I carried the bubbling water. I split it up and we stirred in a half scoop of protein powder to create our breakfasts.

“Where’d all that come from? It’s may just be something that needs a specific exercise to fix. You know, like my rotator cuff last year. Did those band exercises and I was good as new in a few weeks. Didn’t even miss a game.”

“You’re right.” He ate his oatmeal, and changed the subject. “I like this chocolate protein. It reminds me of a cookie my mom makes.”

“Yeah. This is a lot better than that attempt at cookie dough powder. Blech. I thought we’d never get through that tub.” I gobbled down the rest of my food, but swung the conversation back. “Think about seeing Doc Kirk, okay? I’ll even go with you after practice if you want.”

“You’d think I’m ten the way I’m dealing with this.”

After Alex finished, he took the dishes and I grabbed our morning bathroom kit. We shuffled out into the hallway, him in the sweats and me in boxers.

“I was gonna say you sound like every other guy on the planet. Remember how hard it was to get me to a doc last winter when I had the cough that wouldn’t stop?”

“True.”

We walked in to the bathroom and saw our teammates in their usual positions. If people had class first thing, there wasn’t so much structure to the schedule, but trying to be at the rink for six was very regimented. Alex and I stepped up to our sinks and got to work. We used to just bolt to the rink for practice, now we did a little bit more to wake up and eat. I considered this a sneak peek into what a weekday morning might be like this time next year.

“Morning guys,” I finally said, looking back at some of them in the mirror. The usual grunts and half waves went up. Alex and I were among the only true morning people in the dorm. Trent was morning friendly, too, but he was usually out for a run before practice so we seldom saw him.

We were out the door in about fifteen minutes. We’d do a real cleanup after practice.

While Trent ran for his warm up, we quickly walked or sprinted to the rink for ours. It was our way to shake off the remaining sleep before we hit the ice, unlike some of our teammates who would be sluggish for the first fifteen minutes of practice, or more.

“How are the legs now?” I asked as he locked our door behind us.

“You’d never know anything was wrong. It tapered off about a half hour before I woke you.” He shrugged. “That’s the other thing, it never lasts long. How bad can it be?”

“No idea. One of us should’ve been a doctor.” We chuckled at that notion. “Maybe you could just engineer yourself new legs.”

“There’s a thought. I’ll bring that up at work in the next brainstorming meeting.”

“You do that, but make sure I get partial credit,” I said as we started walking across the dark, still mostly sleeping campus, to one of my favorite parts of any day.

Desk duty.

I loved it. My responsibilities at the LGBT Community Center had expanded over time, but I made sure I worked the front desk at least once a week. I enjoyed seeing everyone come and go, and talking to people I didn’t see as part of my regular duties. Sometimes I’d talk to a visitor only briefly to direct them to a meeting room, but sometimes it was someone who’d gotten up the nerve to come in for the first time and didn’t know what to do next. It would be my job to guide them.

Other times sitting here was a perfect moment to catch up with some of my favorite people, like Judy and Lisa. They were in their late twenties, met at Michigan, and still lived in the area. They volunteered in the cafe for a shift or two a week and I loved talking to them. They gave me some ideas of what Alex and I could be like in another five or six years, super tight and obviously in love.

Today they showed me pictures from their Mackinac Island getaway, which looked very fun. I’d just returned to my homework reading when someone else came to the desk. This guy I’d seen around, but we’d never talked.

“Hi.” He looked unsure as he stood there, so I smiled, hoping I could put him at ease. “Can I help you?”

“Uhm, hi,” the young man said, stumbling over his words. “You’re Simon, right? Play for the Wolverines?”

It was hard to tell since the desk was on a raised platform, but he seemed slightly shorter than me. He had a great mop of super dark curly hair and brown eyes. While his expression was serious, his voice was higher than I expected.

“Yes and yes,” I said.

“Cool. It’s so great to meet you. I love watching you play. Anyway, I figure if anyone knows what’s up with the hockey flyer I saw upstairs it’d be you. Is it for real?”

Talking hockey seemed to help him relax.

“It’s for real. Scottie’s forming the team because he was rejected from playing on a league team. He’s a good goalie and wants to build a team for the season. You play?”

“I haven’t for a couple years. Before that I played, about six years, as a wing and did pretty good.”

“Why’d you stop?”

He took a deep breath and looked anxious. He should know it was safe to talk to anyone here.

“Once I started identifying as a guy, neither side would take me.” I nodded. I wasn’t expecting this answer, but it was good he knew he could share this with me. “I figured I wouldn’t play again until after my surgery in a few years. But this. Well. Maybe it’s an opportunity.”

“It would be great to get you out there with us. Have you talked to Scottie yet?”

He gave me a questioning look. Maybe he wasn’t used to people not saying something when he revealed his trans status. Maybe he thought I’d go down that path first, but I wanted to engage him on his original question first.

“Us? You’re playing?”

“I’m a little old to play in youth league,” I said with a chuckle. “My boyfriend and I are coaching the team once Scottie gets it together.”

This guy was a thinker. His lips were moving slightly, as if he was talking to himself. I watched, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought.

“Sorry,” he finally said after the silence had stretched on. “Just considering the possibilities.”

“‘S okay.” When he didn’t immediately respond, I decided to keep the conversation moving this time. “I’ve seen you around, so how come we two hockey players have never officially met?”

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Why would you be a bother?”

He shrugged. “I know I make some people uncomfortable. And, I mean, I know your story. You came out while I was in middle school. I thought it was the coolest thing. I knew at least being gay wouldn’t stop me from playing. You’re sorta like a hero. To me anyway.” His slight blush suggested he wished he’d skipped that last part.

“I’m honored,” I said, giving a slight nod, “but all I really am is a student, hockey player, regular guy.”

“I think you’re an inspiration to a lot of others, too.”

“I appreciate that,” I said, and tried to redirect the conversation before he made me blush. “So you gonna give the team a go?”

“Will they let me play?”

“I’m sure Scottie will. We’re still looking for people. You’ve got experience and that—”

“Out of practice experience.”

“…And that, as I was saying, is crucial. We can coach and teach anyone, but it would be a challenge to have a team full of new players.” Charlene suddenly appeared at my side, meaning my time at the desk was over. “Gimmie one second,” I said and he nodded.

I gave Charlene the rundown of things to expect during her shift. As she and I talked, the young man drifted over to one of the bulletin boards and snapped a picture of the hockey flyer. I hoped he and Scottie hit it off. We needed all the experienced people we could get.

“Sorry about that,” I said as I approached the guy, who was reading on his phone. “I’m done with the desk for the day so we can talk more, if you want.”

“I emailed Scottie,” he said. “The boy must live on email because he got back to me instantly. He seemed excited.”

I laughed. “Wait until you meet him. Scottie personifies excitement.”

“It sounds like I’m in. He’s gonna let me know when the first team meeting is.” He paused, his gaze drifting downward. “Will the league let me play?”

“We’ll have to look at the official league rules,” We sat on one of the nearby benches. “If I had to guess, the rules are going to be vague enough it won’t matter. Honestly, maybe we don’t tell them. If you hadn’t told me I wouldn’t have guessed by your appearance. You’ll be in the same gear as everyone else, so that would make it even harder to tell. I believe there’s a form your parents would need to sign. Will they?”

“Absolutely. They’ll be thrilled I’m playing again.”

“They’ll be okay with you playing with,” I paused for a moment considering my words. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I can’t figure out how else to put it…Boys?”

He laughed, meaning I hadn’t offended him.

“It’s okay. I know what you mean. Certainly a lot of those boys are going to be stronger, bigger than me. But I think I can hold my own.”

“Good. Obviously we don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I can’t believe I’m talking to you,” he suddenly said. “I swear every time I’d come in and you were at the desk, I wanted to come up with a question to ask so I’d have a reason to say something.”

“I’m not scary sitting up there am I?” I pointed towards the desk where Charlene gave us a smile.

“No, not at all. Like I said, you’re a big deal to me. Your story was inspiring stuff to a thirteen year old trying to figure out who she was. It still means a lot to me now that I’m seventeen and living somewhere in between. The whole be yourself thing stuck with me.”

“You come to games?”

“My dad and I go sometimes. My mom’s not a fan, unless I’m playing. When that happens she’s in the stands shouting louder than anyone.”

“If you want, I’d be happy to have you and your family as my guests for a game. Check out our schedule and let me know a date or two and I’ll make the arrangements.”

“Serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“Wow. Thank you so much!”

He smiled big, all the seriousness in his face fading away. He was enthusiastic at times, but serious. I gave him a smile back.

“What?”

“It was nice to hear you so happy right then. You’ve been pretty serious while we’ve talked so it was good to see a lighter side.”

He smiled again.

“I try to not draw attention to myself because I’m afraid people will see right through me. That’ll go away eventually, and I actually don’t have to be so careful here. Kids at school, though. Sometimes it’s ugly.”

I did one of the things I hate most, start to ask a question, but then stop.

“Whatever you were going to ask you can,” he said with genuine interest. “I won’t be offended.”

“I was going to ask what you’re going through, but that’s really not an appropriate question.”

“You should drop into our group sometime. You volunteer here enough, I bet Dee would let you come.”

I looked down and flipped over my I.D. badge. “Actually I work here,” I held it up for him to see. “It’s my work study since I’m majoring in social work. I sat in on a couple of Dee’s groups when I started here, I mostly work with Trevor these days.”

“Cool. I guess you enjoy what you’re doing?”

“Very much. I learn something new every day, no matter what. Even if the day is only at the desk, there’s always something new to see or learn about. I’ll definitely come to one of Dee’s groups. I’d love to learn more. You think you might come to mine?”

“Trevor’s youth group, right?” I nodded. “I’m not sure. I wouldn’t want to disrupt anything there.”

“You could just be another participant. You wouldn’t have to say anything you didn’t want to, although I think it would be great for the people in that group to learn from you.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“And, if you do join the team,” I said, hoping I wouldn’t make him reconsider, “I think you should be upfront with your teammates. Hiding from our team caused some of the issues Alex and I faced. We should try to head that off here. Will you think about that?”

He considered a moment before he nodded. “Sure.”

“Talk to Dee, see what she says.”

“Good idea,” he said, enthusiastically. “I’ll do that. She’s great with that kind of stuff.”

I pulled out my phone to check the time. “I’m afraid I need to go. I need to prep for some appointments. One question before I go.”

“Okay.”

“What’s your name?”

“Oh my God. I didn’t introduce myself?” Even through his dark complexion, his skin went bright red. “Oh, man. I’m sorry. TJ,” he said, extending his hand, which I eagerly met.