Page 94 of Flagrant Foul
I trust myself.
I go all in, throwing my entire body to the left at exactly the same moment the puck leaves his stick. It hurtles toward me, spinning like a black torpedo. It hits my chest and bounces off me.
“Fuck,” says Robbie, lip pulling up to expose his mouthpiece. “What the hell was that?”
“What can I tell you.” I shrug, “My reflexes are fire.”
Lights flash and music starts blaring. I feel that shit in my hips, so I let the music and the euphoria take me.
It’s not every day you save a goal like that.
When I look up, I see Sev staring at me like he’s drunk. Like he’s been hit over the head and is struggling to stay on his feet. The rest of the players are looking elsewhere, pointing and cheering. I follow their gaze to the Jumbotron, and there’s Ben.
Ben Stirling, larger than life.
Ben Stirling, wearing a Blackeyes jersey and a huge smile. He’s punching the air and yelling, and beside him, Luca is jumping on the spot, screaming.
Luca realizes they’re on the big screen first. He tugs at Ben’s sleeve and points.
Ben smiles down at Luca, ruffling his hair, and then turns to the man next to him.
My heart starts to pound.
There’ve been rumors about this. Rumors from reliable sources. Sources like Bryce, who’s close to Ben and knows things like this. Still, there are some things you don’t believe until you see them, and this is one of those things.
The scared boy inside me trembles.
The scared boy inside me hopes.
As always, Ben doesn’t waver. He leans down, taking his partner in his arms, and kisses him full on the mouth. It’s no peck either. It’s a Hollywood kiss. A fairytale kiss playing out in real time.
His partner’s cheeks turn bright pink from the effort, and the smile on his lips unseals the kiss.
When it’s done, when the kiss is over, Ben finds the camera the way he always used to. Easily and with total assurance. He finds it and stares it down, holding the attention of every person in the arena for a second. Then he raises his chin slightly. It’s an up-nod. A relic from the old days. A throwback to the hockey ritual he was famous for.
More than that, it’s an act of defiance.
It’s a big man, a powerful man, a hockey legend, sayingthis is me, take it or leave it.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I see Sev thump his heart with his right hand and extend his forefinger to Ben in the stands.
The roar of the crowd is deafening.
The last few minutes of the game pass in a blur, mercifully requiring little of me. When the buzzer sounds, tears are streaming down my face. Tears for fourteen-year-old me and what it would have meant to that version of myself to look up and see my hero on the big screen at a hockey game, kissing a man. Tears for kids like I was, who need time to figure themselves out and find it hard to do it. Tears for everyone out there who doesn’t believe their story deserves a happy ending.
Players from both sides skate over to me, Blackeyes forming a haphazard line and dipping their heads one by one, as they tap their helmets against mine. Vipers high-five me or tap my shoulder.
I offer my hand to Robbie McGuire when he approaches, and he takes it, groaning and shaking his head in mock disgust.
“That was some save, goalie,” he concedes.
“Don’t worry, baby,” says Decker, slinging an arm over his shoulder. “We’ll crush ’em inthe playoffs.”
“You can try,” I say pleasantly.
Before they skate off, Decker raises a hand to his mouth, biting down on one of the fingers of his glove and pulling it off. He holds his hand out to McGuire, and they share a quick smile. It’s something Decker has done at the end of every game they’ve played since they came out. As always, McGuire takes it, laughing, as they skate off the ice hand in hand.
Ben and Luca are waiting for us when we get to the locker room. Ben introduces everyone to his partner, Jeremiah. I like him instantly. He looks a little shell-shocked, but he’s doing his best to take the events of the day in his stride. Luca, as always, is in top form.
