Page 122 of The Substitute
“And that doesn’t bother you? Knowing any of them could let it slip to the wrong people and fuck up your chance for an NHL career?”
“Sure, that could happen, but I’m not living my life in ‘what ifs’ and ‘could bes.’ All that does is take away the life you have now. I’d much rather enjoy myself today.”
I get what he’s saying. It’s nothing Savage hasn’t said to me at one point or another, but I can’t be that short-sighted. I’ve worked for this for so long, and I can’t go back to my dad with my tail between my legs. Osha probably has parents who love himand accept him, and won’t make his life a living hell if he brings shame to his name by loving the wrong person. Their definition of wrong anyway.
Loving Tobi is hard but easy. It's hard to share him. It’s hard to fight with myself and the lies the abuse force-fed me. But loving him is easy.
It’s why all this hurts.
“I’m in love with my roommate.” A tear rolls down my cheek at the admission that I’ve said one time out loud.
“Teddy’s brother?” There’s a little shock in his tone that I can’t blame him for.
“Yeah.” I hold up a hand. “I know how fucked up it is, and against the bro code or whatever.”
“Ballsy, my dude.” His head turns toward the cubbies across from us, but he’s not seeing them. “Wait a minute, you told Teddy the Gods’ goalie was—is—fucking him. Did you lie to Teddy?”
I sigh and shake my head. “No. Savage is with him, too.”
“Too? As in also? You’re both dating this guy?”
“It gets worse.”
Osha makes a strangled sound and clears his throat. “I don’t see how it could.”
“Savage is my step-brother.”
“Oh, mother fuck. I did hear that!” He makes a face. “Jesus fucks a duck, dude.”
I’m not asking what that means. “Yeah.”
“And you’re not out. Are you thinking about it?”
I shake my head. “I can’t. There’s too much. Between trying to go pro and my family, I just can’t.” I lean back against the cubby support. “And he deserves more than that, you know?”
“That’s rough, man. Is your family a bunch of homophobic dickbags? What can they do besides say some shit to you?”
“It’s complicated.”
He nods and sits back, too. “Look, you aren’t the only one with a uh non-traditional dating situation.”
He scratches his head and smirks at me.
“What do you mean?”
“My boyfriend lives in Colorado.”
Now I’m confused because I know I’ve seen him hook up with people.
“What? Do you have a cuck thing going on or what?”
He laughs. “I mean, kinda. We have rules. Since we don’t get to see each other often, we have rules to hook up.” When I just blink at him, he laughs again. “It works for us.”
Something about the way he says it tells me it doesn’t or it’s starting not to, but I don’t have the space in my head to unpack all that right now.
“So, if you want someone to talk to about your situation-ship, I get it.”
“How do you not get jealous?” I didn’t mean to ask that, but it’s out there now.
