Page 81 of Game Misconduct

Danny counted to ten and thought about how it was really unfair that, like cats, baby hockey players always attached themselves to you when you least wanted them around. Instead, he said, “It was wrong.”

Landry looked sideways at him. “Yeah? You gonna tellhimthat?”

His hands were clenched around his stick. “Last I checked, he didn’t want to talk.”

“Maybe try again. We’re heading into the playoffs. Like. We should be cool, you know?”

“Land—”

“Look, dude, I’m not gonna lecture you or anything, but what Gears said, it’s true. Okay? Like you kinda kicked my ass when I needed it. So I’m gonna kick yours, if I have to.”

“Thanks,” Danny said, mouth dry, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“We’regonnawin the Cup this year. And you’re gonna be part of it. And it’s gonna be just fucking fine, okay?”

Danny looked down at his skates, and thought about the relentless, dumb optimism of children, and said, “Sure.”

March came and March progressed. Mike knew they were definitely going to the playoffs, it was just a matter of whether they came first, or whether the Hornets did. They were still battling for number one in the division, and it was extremely close. The Monument were in third, and it was mathematically impossible for them to improve. It didn’t matter: either way, Mike wouldn’t play Danny in the first round, but he felt that familiar sense of jumpy nerves in his stomach when he thought about playing Danny in the playoffs anyway.

It had felt like dying last year when they hadn’t made it past the first round, and they hadn’t even ended up playing the Hornets. It sucked to watch Boston win, but it would suck even more to watch Pittsburgh take the Cup, even if he’d be happy for Danny. He tried not to think about it and tried to focus on going about his normal routine, as much as that was possible when you were nearing the end of the season and your body was starting to eat itself.

He was spotting Bee at the gym, watching her bench 200 pounds. Her muscles were straining, but even though he had his hands curled under the bar ready to help her, she just grunted and pushed through the last rep on her last set, then lay there on the bench sweating.

“Nice,” Mike told her.

“Thank you, Michael,” Bee said, but she was frowning.

“You okay?”

“Yes, I... I just wanted to tell you I don’t know whether I’m going to be around much this summer either.”

Mike, remembering the depression summer that had led to Danny blowing him in an alley, said, “Uh...really?”

“I’m sorry, Michael. I met Sakari’s parents last summer, and it’s really time for him to meet mine, and we won’t have much time, between that and training.”

“It’s cool. I get it, it’s important.”

“I’m going to miss you.”

Mike watched as she sat up, then went to add more weight for his turn. “I’ll miss you too, Bee. But it’s cool. Seriously, don’t worry about me.”

Bee patted him on the cheek. Her calloused hands were sweaty and warm on his skin. “I always worry about you.”

“Well, you don’t have to,” Mike said firmly, before sliding onto the bench.

Later that night, he watched the Hornets playing Nashville. Danny rode the bench a lot, but when he was on the ice, he looked almost like his old self: playing carefully, precisely, in the defensive zone. Mike thought about Danny and the long summer ahead of him without Bee, and about Mäkelä meeting Bee’s parents. Thought about meeting Celi and Chris. Thought about a lot of things. He’d talked about it with Danny, briefly, after the holidays. That saying stuff to their families was okay, especially since Mike had already met some of Danny’s.

He hadn’t wanted to say anything to his own family, because, well. There were a lot of reasons. But the more he thought about the long summer alone and the more he thought about Danny, and how maybe a change of scenery would be good for him, the idea coalesced. It made him kind of nauseous thinking about it.

Still, despite the lurch of his stomach, Mike opened Gmail on his phone and composed an email to his mother, because even though he knew he had to do it, he couldn’t quite bring himself to call.

He wrote,hey mom. if i came home this summer, could i bring someone with me?

Mike sent the email before he could talk himself out of doing it, and then went back to watching the game so he wouldn’t drive himself insane waiting. It was only about five minutes later that the banner notification popped up and he took a deep breath.

Of course anyone you’re dating is welcome in our home, Mom had written back.That’s always been the case, even though you haven’t felt comfortable doing it before now. May I ask her name?

Mike could feel the beads of sweat, like, prickling on his forehead, but he typed,his name is danny, felt like he was going to vomit, and hit send. He put the phone down in between the couch cushions, where he couldn’t see it or check it, and went back to watching the game. The Hornets were losing to Columbus, but Danny hadn’t fought anyone, so that was fine.

---