29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Elias

Twenty One Years of Age

J arman was mad at me.

At least, I think he was. I hadn’t seen him since Christmas and even then, he just wasn’t… present? I found myself going to some party for Jenna. She loved having me by her side. It was nice. I did feel like a bit of a trophy but who doesn’t like feeling special? I was starting to feel that itch to be with Jarman though. It felt like he hadn’t been home in weeks. And our practices were all about hockey which don’t get me wrong, I freaking love hockey, but I wanted some Jarman time.

We were out of town for an away game. We won, as usual, and I thanked the coordinator gods that Jarman and I were rooming together. But when I got back to the room, he wasn’t there. The room was empty. In an attempt to fill the void, I put on a David Attenborough special, hoping his voice would soothe the loneliness. The moment the door opened, Jarman looked at me and huffed. “Attenborough again, Mouse?”

“Don’t act so surprised.”

“I say that because I should have known you would have waited for me while watching a documentary… is this the one on plants?”

I beamed, “It is. they really are quite remarkable.”

His face softened then. “I suppose they are, let me guess, you're going to snuggle on me and finish it?”

“Could we? I missed you. Where were you anyway?”

“Letting off some steam.”

I frowned. I never understood hookups. “One day your dick will fall off from all the ass you're getting.”

He laughed, “I sure hope not, I happen to like ass.”

Jarman had always given me ass guy vibes. I rolled my eyes and snuggled into him, falling asleep to my two favorite things: documentary voice overs and the beating of Jarman’s heart.

Present

I couldn’t tell Shane, but a small part of me was happy for the break. I did hate being alone, but I’d sort of gotten used to it. As long as I wasn’t stuck with my thoughts for too long… then I was okay, enjoyed it even. I used it as motivation. What Shane didn’t know was that I had a couple of interviews lined up: one for a high school assistant coach, and the other for a junior hockey team. The biggest difference was the level I would be coaching on, and one was more competitive than the other. Then there was the pay, but with the revenue I got from selling my apartment and my overpriced, temperamental car, I didn’t care much about the money. Something told me Shane wouldn't be expecting the life of luxury, though if he thought I was skipping fancy date nights, he had another thing coming.

I walked through Woodbridge High, teleported back to when it was Shane and I walking similar halls. Between the pressure of girls and snarky teenage boys, I couldn’t say I enjoyed it. But Shane really was my rock, and no one dared to make fun of me. It wasn’t until college where I really blossomed—and well, grew some muscle. As I took in the kids around me, I wondered if I would enjoy being their coach, even if it was just an assistant job. This team was one of the top high school leagues.

I entered the rink, listening to the voice of what appeared to be a drill sergeant—it sounded that way, at least. Coach Kelser would be the one to meet with me and the hiring staff. I did my best to let the cool air settle my nerves. I was early, partly because I wanted to see the dynamic. I knew that not every coaching style worked for me. As desperate as I was to get back on the ice, I was searching for something as close to perfect as I could get.

“Oi, Carter! We’re not fairies here, stop fluttering around!”

The “tough love” approach made me grit my teeth.

The practice was a tough one. The boys skated off the ice with limbs hanging to their sides. There wasn't much life in them at all. I worried my lip, starting to second guess myself. With the boys gone, Coach Kelser saw me and waved me over.

“Elias Michaels, so good to see you.” He outstretched his hand and gave it a firm shake.

He chattered on as we walked to his office, the words ‘little room for mistakes' had an uncomfortable feeling stirring in my chest. These kids were in high school. Yes, I knew it was a stepping stone for college or even toward the draft but in the end, they were teenagers. Mistakes would be made no matter what.

The meeting went for a little over half an hour. I tried to sound confident in what I would bring to the table, a passion for the sport and the skills to back it up. But I just didn’t feel it as I left the school. I could see that doubt in his eyes—the same doubt my father looked at me with. I didn't like feeling like a small fish in a big pool. I could be a competitive person within reason, but the reason I competed was because I had a team that relied on me. That's what I loved. Call me a people pleaser, but that’s what made me happy. I just wasn't sure if that team was for me. I knew I could bring them to life, but that relied on Kelser giving me control—which he didn’t seem inclined to do. He wanted a second bad cop, and that wasn’t me.

I let out a sigh, breath wisping in the cold air before me, and made my way to Shane's car. I sat in the driver’s seat, which I knew he would complain about me adjusting the shit out of. Settling in I took in a deep breath of his scent. It was almost as good as being wrapped in his arms—almost. My doubts crawled out of me, sinking into the leather and I started the ignition to get to my second interview.

The local skating rink was bustling as I got there. School was still out for the holidays and the murmur of families and children as they excitedly got ready for classes filled the space. Nostalgia warmed my chest and widened my smile. I went to the reception where a young teenage boy was checking in passes and organizing sign-ups.

“Hey, how can I help?” He blushed at the crack in his voice, clearing his throat.

I didn't dare point it out. “I’m here to speak to Coach Thorton?”

He looked down at a piece of paper in front of him. “Elias, right?”

“That would be me.”

His face transformed, “You played with Tyler Riley in college, didn't you?”

“Sure did, on the same line a lot of the time. He’s a good friend.”

The boy practically vibrated. “I'm a huge fan. Sorry, I'll tell coach you are here.”

I nodded and waited as he disappeared into the office and came back with an older man, brown hair with a slight gray to it, brown eyes and an easy smile. His appearance was already much more comforting than Kesler’s. “Eli! So good for you to come in. Did you bring your skates?”

I blinked. I didn't know I was supposed to. I was about to start my internal spiral, when I remembered the duffle I’d left in Shane’s trunk. “Actually, yeah—want me to go get them?”

Coach Thorton nodded eagerly. “Meet meat ice rink two.”

I did my best not to rush. The local arena had two rinks, one for local skate time and figure skating, the other the hockey arena because well, Canada. I grabbed my gear and headed to the rink, thankful that Shane suggested I keep it there. The coach was already on the ice with the kids. They were as cute as a button, all wobbly and short, sticking their tongues out in their little cage helmets as they free skated. I was quick to lace up, tape up and skate out, meeting Coach in the center. Before I could ask what was happening, he shouted, “All right little Jets, come on in please.” The little boys all skated in.

“Okay, I hope everyone is feeling good today. We have a special guest here. This is Eli Michaels, former right wing forward from last year's Frozen Four winners: Boston U.” The kids balked; eyes wide. “Today, you will call him Coach Michaels.”

I cleared my throat. “Actually if you would call me coach Mick, or Mickey. Michaels is my dad and way too formal.”

“Alright, then. Everyone say hello to Coach Mick.” The chorus of hello Coach Mick made me feel like I was a preschool teacher and I couldn't lie, I really liked it.

“Now, I’m only here to help Coach Mick today. He’s running the show for the next half hour.” Coach looked at me. “The ice is yours.”

I tried to hide my stunned expression. This wasn't quite the interview I had mentally prepared myself for, but somehow it was better. I thought back to my favorite lessons as a kid and got to it. “Okay, let's do a quick stretch warm up. We need our muscles to be nice and warm so we can go super fast! Okay?”

I got down to the ice and showed them some stretches and couldn't help but smile broadly at the damn cuteness of it all. Once stretched, I decided to have some fun.

“Now let’s do some skating relays to get those legs warm and speedy.” I divided them into groups of four, set them on the blue line, and used my fingers as a whistle. I’d need to invest in a real one. As they lined up and I got their names, I started to hype them up like a real sports commentator. The drill also let me see where they had their wobbles, and the skill of each skater. I had twenty minutes left, so I did a little bit of a demo on some little weaknesses and set some cones up to work through them.

“Great job! Did you feel the difference there?” There were some excited agreements, so I took that as a win. “Okay, we have only ten minutes to go, so before we cooldown you have a couple options: we can play red light-green light, or tag.”

Redlight—Greenlight was the winner, and I enjoyed the little laughs and even the couple falls, because as kids do: they got right back up. There were a couple moments when I saw a little hesitation but there weren’t any tears. We cooled down with a few more stretches and they all gave me little high fives before wobbling off the ice.

“Good job.” I heard from behind me, and I was grinning from ear to ear, before I could get my next word in, Thorton yelled, “Alright, Jetettes, your turn!” He introduced me to the girls' team, and I was off for another half hour.

I skated over after, feeling great about that lesson. Thorton handed me a water bottle which I happily took and yet again, he announced the next team. “Titans you're up!”

The next grade were ages eight ten. Gone were the cute tongues, placed little boys who thought they meant business. Once introduced, I got into some drills. I kept the mood light but focused on more structured techniques. I gauged their skills, making the most of the forty-five-minute lesson. I finished on a skirmish and a cool down. The reception felt great. Coach Thorton met me with another water bottle and a much-needed protein bar.

“Okay, so the next bunch are my eleven-to-fourteens. I call them my Troublemakers—they think they know best. They can be cocky, and only want to puck hog and win. They’ve been doing well in competitions until the last season, the kid over there—” He indicated a kid standing on his own, way from the others. “I don't know what's happened, but in the last year he has just stopped talking. His parents don't know the deal, none of the boys do, but now they are just getting mad at him. He plays angry and doesn't really contribute much, which is a shame because he’s got talent—he loves the game.”

I hummed, trying to gauge the kid from a new angle. “Let's see how we go.”

Thorton patted me on the back. “That's the spirit.”

I was introduced again, left to come up with a lesson plan on the spot. We had an uneven amount of players, so I paired up with the quiet kid—Zack. “Let's play keep away.”

Everyone got into position, and I instructed the others to watch us first. I readied the stick and puck, challenging Zack. “Think you can get the puck from a Frozen Four winner?” I teased.

“Yep,” He said with confidence and I took off.

Zack was quick—I learned that much from the drills we started with. I called out cues. “Alright team! Can you see where his hands are?” I moved my grip to copy his, which limited my movement. In that split second, I exaggerated showing how it hindered me and allowed Zack to snatch the puck.

“See how I couldn't spin the puck away? Now Zack, mimic my grip.” He adjusted, playing with his grip until it was where it needed to be. I came in hot and he shot away from me. He had some quick feet—I pointed that out to the team. “Great job! Now see how Zack hit this edge of the blade? He was able to maneuver his body away. that combined with the grip, he could angle the stick so I couldn't catch him without a possible hook or penalty.”

We continued. “Now, we can all appreciate his skills with his feet, but he relies on them. Forgetting he has heavy hands. That can lead to funk when and if you fumble the puck.”

He was trying to keep away but those heavy hands had him moving slowly. I snapped the puck away and he chased after me. I turned, and he was smiling. Point for Coach Mick.

“Alright! Zack, go with Nicholas and Cuan, two against one but use those skills to keep them away.”

I glided between the groups to help with any pointers. I focused on Zack and though he wasn't saying anything to the others, he was concentrating hard, and that smile didn’t fade. I did my best to call out when someone did something right before calling it a wrap and doing a little game— no offside and no icing and no checking. I divided the teams, trying to get a read on their different personalities. I kept Zack with the same guys, and I was happy to see he was still grinning ear-to-ear. I called it a day, cooling down with stretches and some group feedback.

I was heading back to Coach Thorton, trying to get a read on his expression when a voice called my name.

“Coach Mick?”

“What's up Zack?”

“Just wanted to say thanks, it was fun.” He knocked his stick against mine, then I saw him looking at my rainbow pride tape I decided to use when I bought my new stick. He’d glanced at it a few times during the class, not really with distaste—but it was something.

“You’re welcome. You have some serious talent, keep it up and you can go as far as your dreams could take you.”

“I don't know. It's a hard industry and…”

I jumped into steer the conversation. “How old are you?”

“Thirteen.”

“When I was thirteen, I had the grace of a baby giraffe. I went to every camp and practice to learn. Hockey didn’t come naturally for me, but I loved it, and I wanted it. I was in the Frozen Four every year in college, taking home the trophy my last year. I had the potential to go pro. You set your limits, as long as you're healthy and able and this is what you want, then go for it. You’ll only regret not trying.”

He thought it over, offering me a sad smile before skating away. “Thanks coach.”

I watched him leave and wondered if I had said something wrong. I hoped not—I wasn't lying when I said he had talent.

I met with coach Thorton, and I looked to the stands where no more skaters were ready to get on the ice. “Well, you’ve surprised me.”

I blink back to the brown eyes that watched me intently.

“Your college coach practically wet himself laughing when I asked if you could handle this.”

I reared back, worry pooled my veins, but Thorton waved me off. “He said if anyone had the energy for this job it would be you.”

I huffed. “That's fair.”

“When I asked if you would be a good fit to work with kids, he said you were the biggest kid he knew, so you would relate well. But he also said that this job was too good for you, that your skill set could be used at higher levels. So, I wanted you on the ice today to see how you would like it. The feedback from where you helped on summer programs was always great, so I didn’t doubt you could coach, but here it's long days. We have kids of all ages. You’ll work with multiple teams as opposed to one. Saturdays are filled with games from early morning to late afternoon. The oldest class you will have is the Titans. After that they tend to go off to more competitive teams, or socially depending on the player. This is their middle ground. But it's the building blocks for some great players.”

“I love that. To be honest, I haven’t had this much fun in a long time. I won’t lie, I had a couple feelers out but this feels like the best fit.” I said all too eagerly.

He smiled at that. “I hoped you would say that, this isn’t an elite hockey team pay grade, but I hoped you coming after seeing the numbers was a good sign.”

I shook my head and stepped off the ice when I heard the Zamboni doors open.

We sat together as the hum filled the air and the typical closing-up noises began to sound around us.

“As I explained on the phone, I took a bit of a gap year. But I decided that hockey was who I am as a person, so giving it up wasn’t an option for me. But this feels right. It's fun, you know?”

He nodded. “I do, and you really are a natural with the kids. You even got Zack into it. I’ve tried so many guys and they are just … too serious. They only saw this position as a stepping stone. Even though that is an option, we really want to try and have someone who can grow with these families, know them, the last person I had was here for thirty years.”

Well, not being serious had always been my downfall, but now my chest was buzzing with hope. I could easily see myself settling into the role. That fire in my belly had returned. Ideas of all the activities and the smiling kids had me ready to jump back in the car and call Shane.

The thought of Shane had me pausing, chewing my lip.

“Oh no, please don’t say you're not considering it?” Thorton read my sudden wave of anxiety.

“No, no—I really want this job, but…”

“But…?”

“I’m gay. I have someone special in my life and I’ll never mention it to the kids or bring my personal life here but I know how parents can be…”

My own parents' reaction hung over me like a dark storm cloud.

“If they do, then they aren’t welcome here. This is an inclusive club. It’s not a problem.”

That made the smile return to my face. “Well count me in, let me know when I can start and I’ll be here with bells on.”

“I’ll send you the schedule tonight. Be here at same time tomorrow.”

I stood up with my hand out, “Thanks Coach Thorton.”

“Please, call me Gabe. I’ll also have your team's information sent to you, it will help with lesson plans. Your boyfriend is welcome here any time.”

“I can’t wait to tell Shane. He’s going to flip!”

“Shane Jarman, by chance?”

“Yeah. You know him?”

“He coaches my son's team. He’s a great coach.”

I blinked. “There’s no way you’re old enough to have a kid on that team.”

Gabe shrugged and laughed. “I had him young, but thanks for the compliment. I knew I liked you. Go home to your man. I'll send over the contracts and see you tomorrow.”

I said another round of goodbyes, and practically skipped out of that arena.

I was buzzing until I realized that I had the house to myself for one more night, and I remembered how quiet an empty house could be. I found myself in bed, turning on a documentary waiting for Shane to call. I clicked accept before the first ring was even finished.

“Hi! Hello! Hi! how are you?” I spit out in all my excitement.

“Why, hello to you too, sweetheart. I'm good, but more than ready to be home and not surrounded by grumpy ass teenage boys. Remind me again why I chose to coach this age and level?”

I knew I was grinning like a fool but seeing Shane—even through the camera—made everything real. “Because you love your job. I heard today from one of the parents that you’re an amazing coach.”

This got his attention. “Which one?”

“Thorton.”

“Ah, Travis’s dad. Wait, I need some explanation.”

“On what?” I questioned, pretending to act all innocent.

“Uh-uh, no cute games little Mouse. What did you do?”

“ Fine , only because I am too excited and can’t hold it in—I got a job!”

I watched his face light up, and that alone had me falling even more in love with him. “Eli, that's amazing! Which team?”

“Well, a few—up to the age of fourteen. It's going to be busy days, but just afternoons and evenings, and Saturdays for games.”

“That's perfect for you, sweetheart. You’ll be great with kids.”

I grinned. “You should have seen those little tots, babe! Just their little skates and the little smiles and the giggles! God those giggles had me melting into a puddle.”

His humble chuckle had me wishing I was with him to feel it rumble his chest. “They’re going to love you, I know it. I’m proud of you sweetheart.”

“Thankyou, so tell me about your day, your game! I am so buzzed right now I need to be talked to sleep.”

“Are you saying I’m boring?”

That husky voice had my body lighting up.

“No, but your voice is calming—except when you get all growly and rumbly. It’s sexy and riles me up in a whole other way that you can fix. I refuse phone sex—I want your big body fucking me into the mattress.”

“Jesus H. Christ, warn a man when you are getting heavy with your boyfriend!” Another voice entered the conversation.

“So, sweetheart, I share a room, remember?”

“Can he just pretend he didn’t hear that? Also, please tell me he is straight and in a different bed.”

Shane collapsed into laughter, and his colleague yelled out the answer for him “Yes! Straight with a wife thank you! No bed sharing here.”

“Jealous, little mouse?”

“Ugh, stop that before I can’t see you the same way!” the voice yelled. “I’ll have to bleach my ears!”

Shane laughed some more, and seeing that side of him made me realize how much I missed him over the years, how much he’d held back with me. It was nice to see him that way, and I was well on my way to feeling the same comfort—if I didn’t think about my family.

We stopped our flirting—well…toned it down—and I listened to his deep voice talk about his team. I told him about the high school and how I planned to buy my own car. It was so normal and easy, just a simple conversation between best friends but our eyes said something different. His were filled with more warmth than ever before, and I knew mine shimmered just the same.

Unfortunately, he had to sign off before I fell asleep since his roommate was wanting some shut eye. With his voice gone, the house was too quiet. I curled myself around his pillow and tried to shut my mind down enough to get some sleep. Though when my phone chimed with the information on my teams, and I knew then that I wasn’t going to get any rest.