Page 62 of Goaltender Interference

He paused to listen to the reporter’s question, cocked his head to the side.

“Yeah, so I’m sure you’ve read the news. This might be the first you’ve heard of it, but Soupy was open with me from the beginning. And when I say it meant a lot to me, I don’t know if I—you know as a gay kid in juniors, it was really hard growing up being one of the only ones there, and without that many role models in the show, wondering how it was going to be when I finally made it. I came up ready to fight and Soupy told me I didn’t have to, because he’d already done a lot of that work for me. And it was just like this huge weight off of my shoulders,not having to worry about my teammates and whether they’d be cool or not, and to just finally have that guy I could look up to, whoknewwhat I was going through and who I could talk to about, um, anything. It meant the world to me. I hope one day I can be that guy for some kid who needs it, you know?”

Aiden’s throat felt tight, thinking about the hours he’d spent with Gabe, how rewarding it was to see the results of that mentorship before him, but before he could fully appreciate the moment for what it was, Pears slid his arms around Aiden’s waist and pressed the entire length of his body, still damp and stinking from game sweat, against Aiden’s back and his clean clothes.

“Hi, Pears.”

“Buddyyyyyy,” Pears crowed. “You made it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Oh boy, young Gabriel’s gonna be beside himself,” Pear said, nuzzling his cheek against Aiden’s shoulder.

“You’re, uh, kind of beside yourself.”

“Well, we all miss you, bud. Especially me, your intrepid captain. Viens à la maison!”

“Did you Google translate that just so you could use it tonight?”

“So what if I did?” Pears asked, and he finally released Aiden, only to whirl him around and hug him again. “You knew what I was saying. And wedomiss you.”

“Yeah,” Aiden mumbled. “Well. Good game, bud.”

Pears patted him on the shoulder. “Well, we had two goalies to play for today. All right, I gotta hit the showers, but I’m sure Gabe will be thrilled to talk to you. You sticking around?”

“Flying back tomorrow.”

“Right, right,” Pears said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively and then holding out his fist to bump. Aiden obliged, but didn’tsay anything encouraging; eventually, he seemed to give up on waiting. “Okay, bud. See you around.”

Aiden watched him go and lurked by the door, waiting for the hero of the hour. He made small talk with Amirov and Simmer, then with some of the younger guys as they filed in and out. And then Gabe, showered, fresh-faced, and beaming.

“Soupy,” Gabe said, “I’m so happy you made it.”

“I’m really happy I came.” Aiden was surprised to find it was true. “You were lights out tonight, buddy.”

“Thanks.” Gabe smiled his dimpled smile. He rolled a knot out of his shoulders, pointed down the tunnels, and asked, “Walk with me?”

It was a walk Aiden had done over a thousand times before, from the depths of the Square out and down the street to the parking lot the players used, not too far away. He could probably make it in his sleep. He still let Gabe lead, followed behind him and tried to put together his thoughts into some kind of a coherent sentence. He kept replaying in his head Gabe’s little talk to the reporters, the warmth in his stomach fighting the way his head immediately countered it withyou don’t deserve any of that praise, you haven’t been here for him at all—

They were outside now. Most of the other Libs were already gone; the Seals’ bus was gone, too. It was a crisp October evening, the ones Aiden always used to love because it meant a break in the humidity of New York summers, because it meant the season was well and truly underway. You couldn’t see any stars with the lights shining all over the city, but sometimes he used to pretend.

Gabe turned to him and said, “Soupy—Aiden—” and although Aiden waited for him to say something, instead of going on, Gabe just threw his arms around Aiden in a hug that was sotight he could hear his own ribs creak. He returned the hug, looser, his hand patting Gabe’s back.

Gabe said, “I saw you standing there during media. I meant everything I said, you know, you meanso muchto me. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

“You would have,” Aiden assured him. “You’re Gabe Walker, bud, you can do anything.”

“No. I mean, I would have won games. I would have figured it out eventually, you know? But it wouldn’t be the same.”

“Really, kid, you were great. And you would have been great with or without me. Brave with or without me.”

“Stop calling me a kid,” Gabe mumbled into Aiden’s chest. His hand smoothed over the bunched muscle of Aiden’s shoulder. “I’m not akid. I’m twenty-two, I’m the starting goalie, I’m anadult.”

Aiden thought about what he was doing at twenty-two—the starting goalie, winning his first playoff series against his childhood idol, completely failing to live alone and cook for himself, fucking things up so badly when he’d first gotten called up that Ward had had to explain to himagainthat friendships were relationships too and that he couldn’t hold himself apart from the team like that even if hewasthe goalie, accidentally falling in love with Matt and not knowing what to do with all of those feelings—and thought,oh, kid.

Instead, he said, “No, you’re not a kid.”

“I just wanted to... Soupy, I love you, like, I really do—”

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