Page 7 of The Poster Boy
“No growling at the new kid, Brooksie. Play nice.” Boone shot me an apologetic look. “Ignore him. He wasn’t properly socialized as a child.”
“Shut up, Boone.” Jay pulled a hand out of his hoodie pocket and shook mine. “Good to meet you.”
It sounded like it was anything but good to meet me. Jay’s icy reception gave me the distinct impression that I wasn’t wanted. At least not by him. For some reason or another, he already seemed to dislike me. Which was fine. But my self-defense mechanism when someone was cold to me kicked in and I smiled at him. The biggest smile I could muster.
“It was great to meet you guys, but I should get back to exploring. I’ll see you on the ice tomorrow, though.”
“We’re heading out for drinks, you could join us,” Boone offered, much to Jay’s immediate displeasure.
“Oh, that’s okay. I have to find a supermarket. The only thingin my cupboards right now is oxygen and dust bunnies. But ask me next time, and I might say yes.”
Tony looked visibly relieved that I’d turned down Boone’s offer. I knew it had only been made to be polite and I wasn’t actually wanted. But that was fine. I was the new guy. They weren’t openly hostile so I counted that as a win.
“Tomorrow after practice then,” Boone said, ignoring the way his friends didn’t want me around. Clearly Boone was a team player. I definitely needed to get him on my side and keep him there.
“We’ll see. But thanks for the offer. I’ll let you guys get on with your day. It was nice meeting you.”
We parted ways pleasantly enough, and I hightailed it away from the rink before I ran into more of my new teammates. I didn’t know if everyone would greet me with the same icy reception that Jay Brookbank had, but I didn’t want to chance it without Boone there to smooth things over.
I didn’t bother finding a supermarket. I went home, flopped down on the couch, and made a grocery order. It was impossible to get my new teammates out of my head. Tony had been kind, but a bit shell-shocked. They’d probably just learned about my trade. The league could be funny about that kind of thing. Boone was open and friendly. But Jay was a different story.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he hated me. But he didn’t know me.
That didn’t stop people, though. As a kid, making friends had been a challenge. My ADHD had gone undiagnosed until I started school, and I could tell that other kids got sick of me. I was too everywhere all at once. Too loud. Too wriggly. Too much.
I was already playing hockey when I got my diagnosis.It had been one of the ways my parents tried to get me to burn off energy. After I was diagnosed, I tried a few different medications until I found one that worked. I threw myself into my sport. Sure, I could skateboard, and I did track for a while, but nothing compared to being on the ice.
And just like when I was a kid, someone decided they didn’t like me without even bothering to get to know me first. Maybe I was overreacting. I rubbed the heels of my hands into my eyes and sucked in a few deep breaths. Maybe Jay was just a standoffish kind of guy. He seemed stoic and subdued in any media I saw of him.
My grocery order arrived, and I put it away. I’d ordered enough to get me through for a few days until I got to a store myself. Or until I forgot and had to do another grocery order. I put a reminder in my phone and had it repeat several times. Too often I set a reminder in my phone and then promptly ignored it. If I set it to repeat a few times, chances were that I’d eventually listen to it.
Dinner that night was a bowl of cereal eaten standing up in front of my wall of windows overlooking the arena. I wondered what the next day had in store for me. How would the team react to my presence? My thoughts drifted to Jay, and I silently hoped that the rest of the team would be more like Boone. If they weren’t, I might be in for a bad time.
Chapter 4
Jay
“Jay Brookbank, you are a sour old goat.” Boone glared at me. “I can understand why Church might be a little pissy meeting Myers, but what crawled up your ass?”
Boone waited until we were sitting down, on our second round, and Church had gone to the bathroom before interrogating me. The trouble with that was that I was two drinks in, and I hadn’t been expecting the question, so my defenses were down, and I actually answered him.
“I can’t stand him,” I told Boone. Once the words were out, it was like popping the cork off a champagne bottle. “It’s not like he’s the only out player in any sport, but for some reason, he's became the media darling representing gay athletes. I’m just tired of seeing his face everywhere.” His stupid, pretty face, with piercing blue eyes and his blond hair that had been cut into a boy-next-door style, but was a bit longer now.
Boone shook his head like a disappointed parent might. “You need to play nice.”
“Who said I wouldn’t? I’m still going to kick ass on the ice. I just don’t want to be his friend.”
Boone’s disappointment deepened, but he dropped the subject because Church slid back into the booth.
“Maybe it’ll be a good thing, having a new kid on the team.” Church reached for one of Boone’s fries.
Boone wasn’t as strict with his diet as Church was. Boone had trouble keeping weight on during the season, but Church didn’t have that issue.
“Figure some healthy competition will light a fire under you?” Boone pushed his plate of fries closer to Church.
“It can’t hurt. We all know I’m already shit right now. It’s not like his presence will make me worse.”
If Boone was the optimist, Church was the realist. And I was definitely the pessimist. I didn’t like Myers’ circus of media attention. Or Myers. Or the way the league held him up as some sort of gold standard.
