Page 26 of On Thin Ice

The guys all hooted, pumped the air, and started shouting “Ho-Ho-Ho, Hershey has got to go!’ as they all thundered out to the ice. I danced around the team, snapping shot after shot, until they hit the ice, then I had to move to the side. I’d spend most of the game behind the bench with the coaching staff. Mom and Dad had had to sign a waiver for me to be there. In case I took a puck to the face or something. Since I was still sporting some bruising from the Miles incident, I looked like that had already happened.

The school choir sang the national anthem. Coach reminded the guys to play fair, play smart, and play hard. The first line was on the ice for the initial puck drop of the game. Hershey was a good team, fast and skilled, but so were we. And we had Tyler, who was so quick that the bigger defensemen had their hands full trying to contain him.

Shaun was the first line center, a huge guy with all the skills to take him to the pros. He was five-eleven already, at only sixteen. College reps had spoken to him and his parents. I mean, it was crazy he was being courted before he even graduated high school, but that was how good he was. And he had that certain spark team captains needed. He lived and breathed the game. He was cute, smart, outgoing, and definitely aiming for the NHL.

The bench erupted with angry shouts when a Hershey player knocked Felix off his skates. Clean hit, totally, but you could tell that was hit number one of what would be a shit ton of checking. And yep, as the first period went on, the team began to bring out their best checks. Nothing dirty. Skates stayed on the ice. No shoulders or elbows flew. But man, the guys were hitting back with a vengeance. I got one shot of Shaun taking out a big Hershey winger with a hip check that bowled the guy over the boards into the laps of his teammates.

There was no score after two periods, which probably made Coach happy. He liked to see tight defense being played. When the third period started, I moved down to stand beside Coach and our volunteer coach, Shaun’s dad, camera at the ready. Something had to break soon goal-wise. Or so I thought. Fifteen minutes later, the score was tied at zero, and we were headed into an eight minute overtime followed by a shoot-out if no one scored. The players got a three-minute break, changed ends of the ice, and we were back at it.

I wedged myself into a corner of the bench area, trained my camera on Tyler, and followed our speedster down the ice as soon as Shaun passed him the puck. He moved around a bigger player, flew up center ice, and outfoxed three Hershey players with an outstanding deke. The goalie was in position, but his glove hand was a fraction of a second too slow to catch the short shot Tyler got off after losing that trio of players.

The Coyote bench erupted as the red lamp was lit. I wanted to leap and shout, but I kept the lens on Tyler as he threw his hands into the air to celebrate. His expression was pure joy. It made me feel so good to see him so happy. If anyone deserved to be happy, it was Tyler. He was then buried under the bodies of his teammates as they piled on him. I snapped several dozen images of the celly, then lowered my camera to join in the shouts of joy filling the arena. I was so proud of Tyler, and all the Coyotes. They were more to me than just a project to get extra credit. They had become friends, mostly, and that was something I’d never had before. It felt good. Real good. I hoped we could maintain the tenuous friendship after my time as the team’s unofficial photographer was done. Time would tell. Right now, it was celly and ramen noodle time, and yeah, being part of that felt super good too.

“Okay,so tell me, and be honest, did you learn those moves from watching hockey tapes?” I asked Tyler as we—we as in the team—settled into our seats at Hot Pot Noodle Shop.

“Yeah, kind of. I spend a lot of time watching films of Tennant Rowe, of course,” Tyler said as he sat under a neon image of an anime hero using chopsticks as weapons and gave Soren a nod. Soren gave him a quick bow, then sat down beside Felix, who was forced to sit beside me. I scooted over a little, to give him as much room as possible. “Oh, and Pavel Datsyuk. That guy was amazing. They called him ‘Magic Man,’ and I wish I had one millionth of the skill he had with stick handling.”

I sat back and smiled at Tyler. I knew the names of the big league players, but not much more. Hockey wasn’t a big sport in my house, but it was quickly growing into one of my top three faves. Coach was up at the register, telling the servers that everything for our long, loud table was on him. Which was really on the school, I assumed. It took two servers to take and then deliver our orders. The guys were vocal, still pumped from the win, and talk centered on everything, moving from one topic to another as appetizers, such as seaweed salad, steamed dumplings, and veggie sushi rolls, were eaten.

Main dishes arrived, most of them huge bowls of ramen served with a wooden spoon and chopsticks. There were platters of avocado bibimbap, kimchi, and tofu BBQ.

“Where’s Shaun?” Soren asked. “His pickled radishes are here.”

Felix glanced at him. “Last I saw, he was in a heated debate with his dad.”

“Uh oh,” was all Soren said, and the entire table took a moment to consider the words. I didn’t know what was going on with that, but the somber mood shifted just as fast.

I felt at home with the guys and was trying to listen in on all the chatter, ignoring my soup to finally leave my seat to take shots of the party. The noodle shop was packed, and the high spirits of the team seemed to be contagious because everyone was loud and laughing. It was a great time, and sadly, it was over too soon. Most of the players began to file out as their rides arrived. It was getting late, and we did have school tomorrow. Granted, it was like a waster day as most of the teachers weren’t doing anything since break started right after, but it was still an early rise. I returned to our table to take a sip of my iced tea.

Tyler and Soren were over at another table, chatting with some of the booster club kids, which left me and Felix alone. I poked at my cold chicken ramen soup with my chopsticks while he tapped on the empty plate that had held his vegan mochi donut. Everyone else had left, and Soren had offered to give us all a lift with his grandpa riding shotgun. We had an hour or so to kill. I thought of maybe beginning the long process of sorting through my pictures just to pass the time. Anything would be better than sitting here with Felix as we both wallowed in the bog of everlasting guilt.

“Okay, so I guess this is maybe on purpose,” Felix said as a song from Lizzo began to play. The eatery was still hopping, but the older eaters had left. I glanced up from my chilly soup, lowering my chopsticks, to stare at him quizzically. “Them leaving us sitting here. I guess that’s on purpose, so we can talk shit out.”

“Oh.” I glanced over to the booster table. Tyler caught my gaze, then gave me a subtle jerk of his head as if to say, “Talk to him” or something kind and sweet along those lines. “Yeah, probably.”

“I guess they think if we sit here over cold soup and donut crumbs we can magically make things better,” he huffed, his unease creeping into my once good feelings. “I’m not… Okay, so this is the thing.” He finally looked at me. “We’re a couple of assholes.”

That stung, but yeah, he was right. “Ex-assholes,” I felt needed to be said. One corner of his tense mouth lifted. “I mean, I’m trying to make shit right with Tyler, and my life. I know you are too.”

“You know that?” He seemed genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, well, you’re like a mother hippo or something.”

“A hippo?”

“Yeah, hippos are the most dangerous land animals on the planet. They kill more people than lions, tigers, or sharks annually, so imagine that a mother hippo is pissed about you trying to pet her baby hippo.”

He sat back to study me. “Where do you pull all of these rando animal facts from all the time?”

“I readNational Geographic.”

“Oh, I thought you just looked at the pictures.”

“Well, I do that too. The point is that you’ve been hyper-protective of Tyler, which shows me that you’re trying to clean up your shit. I am too, and I’m not going to allow anyone to hurt him again.”

His bright eyes narrowed. “You sound like a boyfriend.” His sight flickered to the rubber bi colors bracelet on my wrist. I let him look. I wasn’t hiding that part of me anymore. Brave talk from a guy who had yet to tell his parents he liked a guy. “Anything you want to tell me?”

“No, not really. It’s private, but just know that I see you. I get where you’re coming from because I’m trying to claw my way out of that gunky-ass bog too.”

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