Page 74 of Delay of Game

“And did Nate talk to you before?”

“Yeah. And I said—”

“And you said everything’s fine, right?”

“Because it is,” Gags said, his chin jutting out stubbornly.

“Well, I’m just going to make some suggestions. And you can tell me if I’m wrong,” Zach said, taking a deep breath. A few seasons ago he never would have trusted himself to handle anything like this. He still didn’t really trust himself to handle anything like this, but Gags wastheirrookie, and he needed to do things that scared the shit out of him occasionally if the team was going to be successful. “I think maybe you’re, um...more than a little nervous. When it comes to like, playing the games, the social stuff.”

Gags stared at him, dark brown eyes wide, before he got himself back under control and shuttered the expression down protectively. “I—”

“Nah. Just let me keep going. That’s not really unusual.”

“I just...when I think about how much is riding on this, and maybe getting sent down, and now it’s the playoffs, I get like... I can’tsleepat night sometimes. My brain just doesn’t shut up ever.”

Zach exhaled. “And, uh, maybe we could talk about the ways you’re finding to shut it up.”

Gags flushed red almost immediately. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh,” Zach said, and then shrugged. “Look, I’m not trying to judge you or anything. In some ways Iwasyou, my first couple of seasons. For different reasons, but I was, uhhh...well, you know why I got traded. I thought I had control over things I didn’t actually have any control over, and it bit me in the asshard.”

“I don’t...” Gags said, but he couldn’t meet Zach’s eye.

“I know the coke sniffle. Again. From personal experience. And if it’s at the rink, like...you know that’s serious. We have some talking to do outside of the rink.”

For a second he wondered whether Gags was going to bolt, then and there. There wasn’t anywhere to go, really. They both had to get ready for the game, and it wasn’t like it wouldn’t be incredibly noticeable if a guy in full hockey gear went clattering down the aisles and rows of seats in the rink.

“Like I said, Gags. Not judging. Just... I’ve been there, and it’s not any fucking fun.”

Gags exhaled another breath. His messy red hair flipped up, briefly, with the force of it. “It’s just—I can only get my brain to shut up sometimes. And to get myself tired enough to sleep eventually or, like. To play. I need my brain to shut up.”

Zach reached out to gently brush his thumb against Gags’s cheekbone, right below the deep shadows beneath his eyes. “From where I’m standing, it doesn’t really look like you’re getting any sleep to begin with.”

Gags looked down at his skates. There was a long pause. Finally, he said, “No.”

“Bud, you could’ve talked to me any time, you know?”

“I was just... I’m just a rookie. I can be sent down any time. I didn’t want to fuck up my career if I said something I shouldn’t—”

“The team isn’t like that.I’mnot like that. We just wanna make sure you’re okay, buddy.”

“What are you going to tell Coach?”

“I’m not. Not right now, anyway. I think you should talk to Cap after the game when we can get a chance. And then we can figure out what would be the best way to go from here. Does that sound fair?”

Gags frowned, his mouth turning down a little, like he was thinking through his options. Something softened in his face again. “Yeah. You know, Bells told me I shouldn’t worry about talking to you guys, about making it worse, but...”

“Yeah, well, next time? Listen to your buddy, you dumb fuck.” He punched Gags in the shoulder, and together, they walked back into the locker room.

Chapter Eleven

May

They won the first game against the Oaks, and it wasn’t particularly close. Nate wasn’t sure what had happened, but it was like things that hadn’t been clicking suddenly settled into place. The Oaks were a fast team, but if you rattled them, the defense kind of fell apart. They had one top pair guy that anchored everything, but beyond him, it was easy to poke holes in the coverage, to find the open ice and get the greasy goals netfront, the kind of goals that had been Nate’s bread and butter for years.

Gags still played like he had a monkey on his back waving a paw in his eyes to distract him, but the third line didn’t sink them, even if their possession stats were so far underwater that they would have needed a James Cameron expedition to dredge them up. Overall the team played well enough that Nate was somewhat surprised when, after the game, before he could head back to his car, Zach came walking briskly up to him, Gags in tow.

“Can I help you guys?” Nate asked.

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