Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

HUGO

When I get out of the gym, I have a text message from Torin. It says, ‘on my way.’ While I hated that he went home to feed his fish without me, I understood the necessity of it since we slept most of the morning away.

Okay, we weren’t sleeping. We were cuddling and talking and napping and maybe threw in a couple orgasms just for good measure. But before we realized it, it was four and I had to get to the arena for conditioning since I hadn’t gone this morning. Even though we have a game tonight.

And Torin had to feed his fish. I get that. You don’t own animals that rely on you for food and then mistreat them. That’s just shitty. We didn’t have a choice but to split up.

So Torin went home and I went to the team’s gym. It’s fine. I don’t hate being at the gym right before a game. It means I’m already loose and warmed up more so than most others, especially our opponents for the night.

The Edmonton Razors. They’re a good team, but since Elixon retired, they’ve lost their edge. They’re still good, they’re just not great anymore.

It sounds really unfair in my head even though no one else can hear it but me. But like so many others, my opinions are shaped by Toby. Since the man is scarily accurate and only the haters try to disprove or disagree with him, I feel relatively good about my opinion.

Well, not good. It’s a mean opinion.

Anyway, all this to say that I’m feeling confident about our chances at a win tonight. Elixon didn’t make the team. He was good, no doubt about that. But with his retirement and the trades two years ago that happened to coincide with his retirement? It’s easy to say his absence is the reason.

I like to say that since he’s my friend.

When I head into the locker room, the first of my teammates to arrive are there and slowly getting ready. I wave as I head to my cubby. I pause there and take a long drink of my water before stripping out of my sweaty clothes for a quick run through the shower so I don’t start the game already sweaty.

Thankfully I’m not hockey sweaty, so I don’t need to take a super long shower. I wash my hair quickly and run my hands covered in body wash over my body. Then I stand there in the steam for a minute and take some deep breaths, readying my mind for hockey. It’s not just a game of skill, but a mental game as well. It’s important to be in the right mindset from the start. Anything, even something small like starting your day out with decaf instead of fully caffeinated coffee, can derail your entire game.

I had a very good morning, so I’m not the least bit concerned.

By the time I return to the locker room, most of the team is there and changing into their gear. There’s the normal quiet conversation that takes place right before a game. Nothing specific. Just… the usual.

I check my phone again, but am unsurprised not to find anything new. Torin is probably already here. It’s been more than an hour since his text that he was on his way. My gaze drifts to the hall that leads to his office. I’m tempted to go say hi. Just because.

But we all have our routines and I don’t want to interrupt his, so I stay where I am.

“You ready, Hugo?” Atty asks.

I nod. “Yep. Still warmed up from the gym.”

“I really should do that,” Wiliker says.

“You say that every game and then don’t,” Noah comments, grinning as he pulls his jersey over his head.

Wiliker sighs. “I know. I should do it, but by the time the next game gets here, there are a hundred other things I’m doing instead.”

Rigbe snorts. “For real. I feel like I’m always racing the clock, but like, do I ever even accomplish anything? It doesn’t feel like I do.”

“Because your to-do list doesn’t end?” Winny asks.

“That,” Rigbe agrees. “And I don’t know. I get that I have plenty of time between hockey obligations but somehow, it feels like I’m always running out of time.”

“The best advice I was ever given is this—if you can hire out for something, do it. Between travel, conditioning, practice, and other hockey shit, not to mention personal shit like whatever your agent has going on for you, your time is limited and valuable. Use that time for things you enjoy and to rejuvenate,” Atty explains.

“Or get a kept boyfriend,” Noah says. “Lix does all those things now.”

Rigbe laughs. “I’ll think about it.”

“The thing is, getting a girlfriend who will do that when you tell them that’s what you’re looking for, they think you’re trying to make them into a ‘50s housewife,” Wiliker says.

“I said kept boyfriend. Not the same thing,” Noah teases as he sits on the bench to wait for us.

Those listening to the conversation laugh.

“Fair enough. I’ll put out an ad,” Rigbe says.

Noah grins. His attention turns to me as I sit and when he winks. I smile in return. I enjoy being in on his jokes or whatever. I love our friendship.

Coach Ajo comes in and gives us our usual pre-game talk. What I love about Coach Ajo is that it’s not just a generic ‘play hard and win’ speech. It’s always specific to the team we’re playing. Reminding us of their strengths and making sure we know how we can use their weaknesses to our advantage.

When I get onto the ice, I immediately look around the arena for any glimpse I can catch of Surry the Seal. As I make a circuit on our half of the ice, I search the crowds and don’t see him. It’s not a huge deal. I don’t always see him right away. He could not be out yet, though that’s unlikely. What is likely is that he could be in the lobby, greeting everyone when they come in. Torin does that a lot.

Instead of obsessing over finding him, I search for my number in the crowd. There’s a group of three people, all wearing my jersey. I grin hugely and then turn back to my task and begin to warm up.

All throughout the warmup, I keep half an eye on the stands, looking for Torin. Just because I want to see him. I always see him before the game. But he’s not there. By the time we’re ushered into the chute before puck drop, I haven’t seen him.

Still not a big deal. Torin does a lot of things for the team, and even as Surry the Seal, he has a lot of different tasks. It’s fine. I’m bummed, but it’ll be fine.

I take the handful of minutes to concentrate on my breathing and getting my head into hockey zone. By the time we’re back on the ice and I’m in my spot waiting for the puck drop, I’m feeling good.

It’s down and Edmonton takes control. It gets tossed between two players in their own zone before being shot down to our end. I grin when one of their players jumps over Miles’ stick when he tries to get the puck away.

But then I’m focused on keeping the puck away from Winny. I try not to crowd him because I know that makes him annoyed. The painted area in front of the net is his zone and he needs room to do his job. I make it my job to make sure it’s clear of other players.

It’s a long few minutes as I constantly beat back the puck. Edmonton is playing fiercely tonight. Thankfully, Atty magics the puck away and slings it down to the other end along the boards. I take that as a sign that I can catch my breath and head for the bench.

As I take a seat and squirt water into my mouth, my eyes scan the crowd again, looking for Torin. I don’t see him. Not that I can spend much time looking. We’re three minutes in with a scoreboard reading 0-0. I don’t hate the double zeroes. At least we’re not down right now.

By the end of the first period, we’re ahead 2-1. I like those odds. They’re good odds. I take my time getting off the ice, searching the crowd for Torin. It’s weird that I haven’t seen him yet. Still, I try not to worry about it. Especially when I get back to my cubby and check my phone, finding nothing there.

“You okay?” Noah asks, shoving me gently on his way by.

I nod. My stomach feels… uneasy, though I can’t explain why. Am I that obsessed with Torin that I’m feeling like I need to see him all the time? “Yeah. Fine,” I answer.

Torin is doing his job and I need to concentrate on mine.

“You sure?” Winny asks.

Taking a breath, I set down my phone and drop onto the bench in front of my cubby. “Yep.” I offer them all a smile so they believe me.

The twenty minute intermission feels drawn out. Sometimes I feel like the break is too long. Like today. But there are other times when it feels like I just sat down.

We get back on the ice and I feel like I’m watching from above. Even when I’m on the ice. There’s a strange disconnect as I go through the motions that I don’t understand. Every chance I get, I’m looking into the audience. Searching for my boyfriend.

By the time the buzzer sounds for the end of the second period, there’s a pit in my stomach. I’ve spent far more time staring into the crowd than I should have. I get that, I acknowledge that. But I haven’t seen Torin once. Not a single time. Not even a glimpse of him anywhere.

As soon as we get into the locker room, I take the hall to his office. The door is shut, which it usually is. I pause outside it and don’t see the light on under the door. I try to tell myself that you don’t always see lights under doors. Sometimes there’s a good transition and that light is blocked. I can’t remember for certain whether I typically see his light under his door or not.

Chewing the inside of my lip, I knock and then push it open. The lights are off, as I suspected. Flicking them on, I count three Surry the Seal heads on the top shelf. Torin’s bag isn’t here. All of today’s planned giveaways are still lined up on the table. The office looks like no one has been in here at all today.

A sour feeling fills my chest as I back out of his office. Is something wrong? Or am I just projecting that something’s wrong because I haven’t seen him yet? Maybe he has a new costume. That’s why the three heads are still where they usually are when he’s not wearing them.

Needing reassurance, I head for Coach’s office. The door is ajar. I knock and it swings open a little more.

Coach is leaning against his desk. Our assistant coach is with him. “Sorry,” I say when they look up. “Have you seen Torin—Surry the Seal?”

“He didn’t show up for work,” Coach Avondale tells me and I suck in a breath. “No call, no show.”

Chills break out over my body as dread fills me. What does this mean?

“Take a breath, Hugo,” Coach Ajo instructs. “Why don’t you give him a call?”

I nod and back out of his office without a word. I don’t see or hear anything as I head for my cubby. It’s as if the locker room is empty. The edges of my vision are dark as I pick up my phone. My hand shakes.

It takes me a minute to get to Torin’s number and dial. It goes straight to voicemail.

Pulling the phone away, I stare at the screen that’s blinking ‘call ended.’ Why would it do that? I dial again. Same outcome. Three more attempts and all calls go straight to voicemail.

A hand on my shoulder makes me jump and I try to focus on the face next to me. “What’s wrong, Hugo?”

“Torin isn’t here,” I mutter. “He didn’t show up for work.” Tears are stinging my eyes now, blurring my vision. “He didn’t even call out. His phone is going right to voicemail.”

“Take a breath,” he says, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

“I-I don’t know what to do. How do I get a hold of him?”

“I know this is going to be hard to hear, but you need to give him some time to get in touch with you. Unless you have someone else’s number that can check on him.”

I don’t so I shake my head.

“Right now, there isn’t much choice. Just hang in there. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

No. There’s absolutely no way. Throughout the intermission, I repeatedly call Torin’s number, hoping for a different outcome than reaching his voicemail. It doesn’t change. Then I have no choice but to put my phone away and finish the game.

“Any word?” Coach asks as I make my way to the chute with everyone else. I shake my head and Coach frowns. “I’ll see if I can get someone to find something out. Okay?”

Relief floods me. “Thank you.”

“I’ll meet you out there. Go warm up.”

I don’t see much of the last period. By the end of the buzzer, I’m jerked out of my thoughts and stare up at the clock. We’ve won, 6-3. Thank fuck. I know I was no help today. None at all. In fact, I was probably a hindrance more than anything.

No Surry the Seal. No Torin. He’s just not here. As soon as we’re in the locker room, I rush to my cubby and pick up my phone. Nothing. For good measure, I dial his number again but there’s no change. Right to voicemail.

For a minute, I close my eyes and take some deep breaths. He’s fine. Torin is fine. This is all fine. There’s… a misunderstanding. Or something. I’m just going to drive to his house and I’ll find that he… fell asleep. And his phone fell into the fish tank. Or maybe he’s locked out of his car with his phone inside and the battery died.

It’s all fine.

Numbly, I strip quickly and head for the shower. Everything is fucking fine! I feel sick for no reason at all!