Page 59 of Broken As Puck

“Hey, guys.”

We both turned to Nick.

He eyed me, obviously impressed by my hair too. I really had gone all out. “Amir is about to start his speech. Want to listen in?”

“Oh, yeah. Good idea.” I slipped my helmet on because I didn’t want to detract attention from Amir, and the three of us went to the doorway, where the other members of the team who were participating in the day’s charity game were clustered, all silent as we used the height advantage our skates gave us to get a clear view of Gadot.

By some miracle, the event hadn’t been smeared by a public exposé about Delacrue’s comments during that interview. Instead, the article—which spanned several pages—had been factual and positive. I couldn’t help wondering if Chelsey had cornered the reporter afterward and bribed her with wine or pleaded for mercy.

Hopefully, that hadn’t been necessary.

A bright pink spotlight illuminated Gadot, who stood in the center of the ice with a microphone in his hand. He was giving the opening speech, talking about being a gay little boy who loved hockey but got pushed around by the other members of his youth league for being different. He described how that escalated to bullying as he got older and only stopped when they realized that he was responsible for many of their wins.

My heart ached. I’d always known that Amir was gay and that he probably hadn’t had an easy time, but there was something gut-wrenching about hearing the details. It was sickening that people could be treated so differently because of who they loved.

Fortunately, he moved on to easier topics, discussing the charity, their work, and how the funds raised today could help young people flourish in the competitive world of professional sport. He explained how viewers could contribute and, when he finished, he passed the microphone to the charity’s president. I clapped heartily and my teammates did the same.

We crowded back into the changing rooms to continue getting ready for the game. I was fully dressed, so I wound rainbow tape around my hockey stick and stuck a “love is love” sticker on the outside of my helmet.

Eventually, Coach Dunn called us out onto the ice, and Chappell Roan played over the loudspeakers as we skated a couple laps around the rink. The vibe inside the stadium was different from usual. There were rainbow banners strung around the interior, and the spectators were bedecked in every shade imaginable rather than team colors.

There was no atmosphere of tension, only excitement. It was almost…festive.

I liked it.

The youth players from the alliance were gathered in the center of the ice where we joined them. Coach Dunn greeted the newcomers and announced how the teams were going to be divided.

That done, he moved down one end of the ice with half of us and the rest—my team—turned to the coach we’d been assigned. She was a tall, athletic woman who usually coached college hockey and who had volunteered for the role because her son was participating in the game.

“Take a few minutes to get to know each other and then we’ll run some drills before we get started,” she said, then motioned for us to get to it.

“Hi.”

I turned and drew back when I realized the person who’d spoken was right beside me. He was olive-skinned, with a little dark hair visible through his helmet and wide, excited eyes.

“You’re Matt Matthews,” he said, as if I might not know that.

“I am.” I grinned and offered him a gloved hand. “What’s your name?”

“Nico.” He shook my hand and his smile grew. “I’m a defenseman too.”

“Awesome! How long have you played?”

“Since I was six. I’m going to college next year on a hockey scholarship. I want to be in the NHL.”

My heart lifted. I could relate to that. “Do you know I went to college on a hockey scholarship too?”

He nodded vigorously. “I did.”

“Well, hopefully, your luck turns out as good as mine did. If you’ve got a scholarship, then I’m sure you’ve got the skills and determination to go all the way. They don’t just hand those things out.”

His cheeks flushed slightly. “I hope so.”

Another player approached, and I turned and introduced myself.

By the time we were called for drills, I’d at least met everyone I’d be playing with, even if I wasn’t sure I’d be able to remember all their names.

We started drills—primarily ones designed to get the goalie warmed up and us working better together with our new teammates. I found myself partnered with Nico on one of them and the kid was good. Really good.