Chapter Thirty-Two

Reconsidering his silence where Bobby was concerned had to take a backseat to the rest of the playoffs.

When the Hunters won the conference finals, Dan had to shove his head between his legs, struggling to get a grip on his emotions. He hadn’t scored but he’d had a great game, nobody able to complain about his performance. Even the talk around his sexuality had given way to speculation about the final, which was now down to the Hunters and BC’s Sharks.

Despite the tension between them off-ice, Ian and Dan managed to make it worse during shifts together on the power kill. Though he wasn’t as defensively minded as some, Dan could throw himself between the puck and a goal as well as the next person.

He wasn’t completely free from doubters. Some had their say on whether Dan’s relationship status was the reason he had yet to produce in the playoffs. Though he generally tried to stay away from comment sections, Dan had been fiercely proud of people sticking up for his play. Lack of points didn’t mean he wasn’t producing, wasn’t clearing ice.

Dan was proud of his progress, and so were his coach, the team, and Carry, who had clapped his back more than once for an intercepted pass that saved a game.

The team asked him for the family and friends he’d like at the game, and Dan felt a brief pang at the fact that unlike most of his teammates, he didn’t have parents who would be proud to attend the game. At least, not in the way Dan wanted them to.

Dan: You guys wanna come to the game?

Polly: DUH. Get me a ticket.

Helena: Ian already offered, but you know I’ll kiss you too :)

Dan: Gross.

Dan extended a ticket to Max, though he wasn’t sure his brother could make the trip, and Kayla. Ian had friends outside of hockey that usually took up his tickets, so Dan was sure he wouldn’t bother.

It hit him the day before the game.

They were in the playoff final. For the trophy.

Dan: I think I’m panicking.

Max: relax. you’ll do fine bro

Kayla: I can’t wait to cheer you both on!!

Ian: We got this, bro.

It was the first time Ian had spoken to him over text since their fight in the locker room. Dan tipped his head back against the couch, wondering if he should make it up with Ian before the game. It would help to soothe some of the stress pounding in the back of his head.

Now that he was in BC, everything familiar in a way that made his chest ache, he was oddly comfortable in the arena, amongst his old team. That didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to kick their ass, to prove that he still had what it took to win a game.

There was something about the roar of the crowd, the amount of Hunters jerseys he could see in the crowd, that spurred the team on. Dan couldn’t remember the locker room ever being so silent, so focused, and it gave him an added push.

Dan didn’t want to know who had arrived in the game; he had been in the playoffs a few times and knowing his mother, father or siblings were in the crowd had always thrown him off. He didn’t have to worry about his parents but knowing Max and Kayla had made it would still get to him.

Blocking out Rafael and Ian, both of whom would be talking about family and friends, he focused on himself, on his performance.

Because if anyone finds out I’m gay, I need my hockey to be better.

Dan had thrown himself into hockey as much as he could, skating better, faster, stronger. It wasn’t perfect, there were still parts of him that he could get better at, but he had least taken his own words to heart.

The first two periods were hard and physical, so many checks that Dan spent most of the time dodging bodies over holding on to the puck. Ian was doing his best, Miliet was fighting hard, even Alaric was starting to throw himself in the way of players and the puck. By the end of the second period, Dan was exhausted, both sides still scoreless, the idea of having to play another period abhorrent.

Carry did his best attempt to rile them up, and Dan kept a hold of his stick, determined to do his best and get that trophy. Not for his mother, not for his family, but for himself. He wanted to prove to himself that even gay, even with more attention on him than there’d ever been, most of it awful, he could still play good enough hockey to win a trophy, to win the playoffs.

Skating into the third period, the coaching staff tried to change up the lines. They had Dan out with Rafael, Miliet, Ian and Carry. They tried every combination but nothing worked. The passes didn’t connect, the plays didn’t work out. It was frustrating, and the only saving grace was that BC couldn’t make their plays work either.

The game rolled into OT, the most stressful type of game, but this time, when Carry yelled at them to pick it up, Dan found hidden reserves of strength he didn’t know he still had. They were so close, one goal away, and Dan had faith in each and every person on the team.

Back on a line with Rafael and Alaric, Dan gave himself over to the ice, to the puck, to the scream of the crowd. Most of the screams were from BC, but Dan had played here, he knew this ice, these walls, these people. He let it wash over him, Rafael on his wing, Alaric just ahead, and kicked the puck to Alaric, then finding a space in front of the net.

Like the conference final, he couldn’t make the shot. He felt gutted, everyone wanted to be the game winner, but Rafael was there, and he tapped it over, watched the puck sail through the legs of the BC goalie.

***

The goal was in the back of the net.

Dan hadn’t scored the game-winning goal, not this time, but he had given the assist, had helped Rafael sink the puck.

“You beautiful bastard!” He yelled, whirling them both around the ice.

Helios, their goalie, was buried under a pile of players and Dan went to join them, shouting himself hoarse with praise and congratulations. The euphoria was overwhelming, so much that he felt like crying. His first season with the Hunters and he’d won the best trophy in hockey; he was going to hold it in his hands.

The handshake line was always the worst, commiserating with guys who had played just as hard but were probably cursing you in the back of their heads. Near the back of the line, Dan went through the motions, congratulating guys he’d played with not the year before, genuinely sorry for their third straight loss.

“Good game.” Jason Refiere, Dan’s old captain, kept a tight grip on his hand. “Proud of you, Stilts.”

“Thanks,” Dan said, throat thick with emotion. “Sorry.”

“Shut up,” Jason said, shaking his head. “You deserved it.”

They skated apart and Dan was in center ice, watching the Hunters’ families filtering onto the ice. He spotted the familiar color of Helena’s hair and skated over to Ian and Rafael. Kayla was wrapped around Rafael, Dan made a face behind her back, narrowing his eyes at Rafael, who flipped him the finger.

Ian and Helena were kissing, so Dan interrupted, tugging Helena back toward him. Ian opened his mouth to say something, rolling his eyes when Helena screamed and threw her arms around Dan’s neck.

“I’m so proud of you.” She pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek, which Dan promptly wiped off.

“Get back to your boyfriend.” Dan returned the kiss, just in case she was worried he didn’t like her.

Helena looked over Dan’s shoulder, to where Polly was standing, hands on her hips, waiting her turn.

“You came.”

“Duh,” Polly said, dragging him into a hug. “Congratu-fucking-lations.”

“Thanks,” Dan laughed, burying his face in her neck. “Now we both have a playoff win.”

Polly laughed, happy and high in his ear.

“You couldn’t score another game winner?” Dan whirled to see Max, grinning like an idiot. His hair was shorter, wearing Dan’s jersey and jeans, so much older than Dan could remember him being.

“Fuck,” Dan said, not caring how tightly he squeezed Max. “You came.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Max said, choked up.

Pulling back, Dan couldn’t wipe the grin from his face. “I assisted. I think that’s enough.”

“Eh,” Max said, pretending to be disappointed, but couldn’t stop grinning.

There didn’t seem to be enough time to get through all the greetings he wanted to, but there was a lot of hugging and screaming, and then the trophies were being handed out. The cup itself was amazing, Carry skating over and lifting it over his head. Over the boos, the cheers of Hunters fans were loud and overwhelming. Dan had never been so happy.

Carry skated toward him and Dan was stunned, aware that so many other players deserved it better than he, but then he was holding the cup, the weight of it light as feather given how strong he felt. He brought it down, kissed the side and couldn’t believe he’d made it this far. He raised his eyes, looking for Ian, and stared straight into Bobby’s familiar brown eyes.