Holy fuck.

Holy fuck.

Jake Mabins is the goaltender of the team we just lost to. It's really him.

I can't really believe it. How is he, the one guy I hoped to never see again, so close? This can't be real.

"Cap!" 

I look over my shoulder, seeing Justin run after me. He's the left winger of our team, and a real pain in the ass. Because of his racist jokes last year, our best goaltender ever quit. 

"What do you want, Justin?" I sigh, finally sitting down on the bench. My eyes close at the relief. Somehow, my legs seems shaky, but it must be the exhaustion from the game. 

"Why the fuck would you help them?" I look up to see his face all serious. His brows are knitted together, telling me he's actually confused and angered I helped Mabins. "We could've won!"

"Look," I mutter. This is ridiculous. "The goalie was on his knees. He was in no condition of playing any further. We could've won if I just left him there, yeah, but that's not how this works. If we win, we'll win fairly. Taking advantage of sick or weakened players is not my style."

He lets out a huff, clearly not understanding. "They are the number one in this contest! We could've risen and stolen their spot, Alexander! What kind of bullshit is this? Why would you be nice to another team?"

Now I'm the one not understanding his reasoning. "Because they're also just dudes, Justin. Clearly you're not made for this sport if you don't understand that. They all go to college too, they all have a family. If you don't look out for them or how you hit them, their lives might be affected for a really long time."

He shrugs. "Does that matter? As long as we win, I'm willing to throw in a few punches."

Deciding to keep my cool, I turn my back to him and take a few deep breaths. He's not worth it. He just wants to see me lose control. 

Elias pats me on my back. "Good game, man. You were fucking good on the ice. Too bad that Mabins guy is a better goalie."

I give him a grin, only half fake. "Yeah. Those defense men weren't worth much, but Mabins is gold."

He always has been.

I shake those thoughts away and focus on today. The past won't help me now. 

"You're a good goaltender too," I tell him, because it's the truth. He sometimes gets insecure after a game with a better team, and though he tries to hide it, I can always see it by the way his eyes gloss over in thought. 

He perks up at that, smiling shyly. "Oh. Thank you. I was wondering if I can find a few videos on Mabins' work?"

I shake my head, grinning along. "You don't have to adjust yourself, Eli. He may be good, but he's also a year older than you." 

Confusion clouds his face. "How do you know?  He could be younger."

I mentally kick myself for remembering all these things about Jake. "I saw it online."

"Oh," he nods, as if that makes sense. I watch him pull out his phone, type in Jake's name and find lots of videos. "Great! Some of these are like five years old, maybe that's a good way of studying his technique."

My eyes widen in panic. I grab his phone before he can click on one of those vids. "No! I don't think that's a good idea!"

With a raised eyebrow, he reaches out and steals his phone again. "And why not? It's not like I'm stalking him, right? Oh shit, is this stalking?"

I shake my head, groaning as I bury my head in my hands. "Fine. Watch it all you like."

Confused about my sudden switch in mindset, he clicks on the video. I watch his face as he slowly realizes that, five years ago, Mabins and I were on the same team in our home town. Not only that, but every time our team scored, we used to go up to each other instead of the group. We were like best friends. And that's very obvious in that video.

He gasps, points at me on the screen and then at real-life me. "That's you!"

I sigh, but nod. There's no denying. "Yeah. We used to hang out." Understatement. We hung out 24/7.

"Oh my, Alex, can you please ask him to tutor me? Only a few times? Please, I'll be grateful forever!" And there goes mission Forget Jake.

I wince. "Eli, we don't hang out anymore. That was way back."

He pouts. "But can't you just ask? I mean, you helped him on the ice earlier. You used to be best friends! If you ask, he'll do it for sure. It doesn't even have to be now, I know he's sick, but somewhere in the next weeks?"

"Eli," I try to protest, but here he goes with those please eyes. Arabella can't resist them, and even I have trouble to say no to them. "I don't know if he'll want to talk to me."

"Why? What happened between you two?"

Well, what didn't happen? Let's see, aside from the fact I just left one day without a note or a message, I never told him about my sexuality. I never told him about my crush on him, I never told him I only fucked whatever person close enough to me to just forget him. Oh, and of course, let's not forget I accidentally broke the photo frame he got from his grandfather, the only thing he had left of him as he died. I never took the blame on me either.

Yeah, I was an asshole five years back.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped a boundary," Elias whispers, bringing me back to the present. He looks guilty all of a sudden. I smile, if only for the sake of comforting him. "Don't worry. You know what? I'll send him a message. I can't promise he'll answer or agree, though."

"YES!" he shouts, doing a fist bump in the air. "Thank you so much!" 

That's when I leave to shower. I need a moment to steady myself, both physically and mentally. My legs are still shaking and my mind is screaming at me for some rest. Luckily, most of our teammates have already disappeared out of the showers. 

Resting my back and head against the tile wall, I breathe in deeply. The hot water is streaming all over my face and even though it has an unpleasant part in it, I welcome it. 

I never thought Jake would go to college to play hockey, too. He used to tell me he would be a lawyer, the greatest of al time. I believed him. He was always one to step between arguments, to divide his candies equally for the both of us.

Now he's here, way too close for my liking. I would love to be close with him again, but I don't see that as possible. When my dad got a chance to finally build his real estate office here, he immediately took it. Both my parents knew, yet they didn't tell me a thing until the day of the move. 

I didn't have time to see Jake and tell him. I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to him, or the team, or any of my other friends. It was only until we landed safely here, that I was allowed to send him a text. I was allowed and I didn't, because I didn't know what to say.

Because what was there to say? Hey, so I moved to the other side of the country overnight, ha ha. See you never again. That's a bit insensitive, isn't it?

Now, I wouldn't be surprised when he doesn't answer on my message. He was already having a hard time at the age of fifteen, and his best friend suddenly leaving surely wouldn't have had that much of a great impact. 

But maybe he didn't take it that bad? Maybe he somehow knew. Maybe my parents told his, and they told him after I left. 

And when I was kneeling next to him on the ice, did he recognize me? Did he know it was me, his childhood best friend, helping him?

Shit. This is messing with my mind. I turn off the water and step out of the shower. The restroom is peacefully quiet, just how I like it. A little more put together, I walk back to my locker to grab my clothes. As far as I can see, the room is empty.  

"Barett."

The voice has me jumping around and holding onto my towel for dear life. With my heart almost  beating out of my chest, I scan the benches. There's Coach, sitting alone, his eyes never leaving the newspaper on his lap. 

I breathe out again. That man never fails to give me a jumpscare. 

"Coach." I nod at him before turning and putting on my shirt. At least I'm a little more decent now. 

"Dress yourself, Barett. I'm not looking. In fact, I'm outside when you're ready. I want to speak to you, so come find me." I nod quickly and utter a response, but he doesn't hear it and leaves. 

Not wanting to set him off even more, I dress as fast as I can and switch off the lights in the locker room. Coach is,  just as he'd said, waiting outside the building. He's leaning against the wall, watching the other players laugh and make plans to go out.

I cough, announcing my presence. "You wanted to speak me?"

"Ah, yes," he nods, clasping his hands together. "You played very well today, Alex. It was unfortunate we didn't win, but I see you've given everything you could give. Now, the goaltender of that team. . ."

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"What about him?" I sigh, hiding the fact I just want to go home and forget the day not so very well. He silently raises his eyebrow, waiting for explanation. I don't bother  to give him that.

"Justin told me he wasn't okay with how you helped Mabins, but I disagree. You handled very well and very quickly. Their coach told me he would have stayed on the field and ignored his illness if you hadn't come to him. Well done."

I shrug. "Thank you. I would do the same for our team."

He smiles. "I know. Are you joining Elias and Dante tonight? They seem to be waiting."

My eyes find Elias' car, where he, Dante and Arabella are, indeed waiting for me. "Yeah. I'll go so they won't have to wait any more. See you on Tuesday!"

"Finally," Arabella sighs. I grin, heading to sit in the back. My leg has other plans though, and I almost trip. Dante can just catch my arm. "Woah. Did you drink?"

I frown, shaking my head. "Not a drop. It's just exhaustion, my legs have been shaky ever since I got off the ice."

They glance at each other. "Alright. Let's go home. I think it's best if we go to bed early tonight."

Pouting, I turn to Elias. "But it's a game night! We always get a drink on a game night!"

He shrugs, not caring in the slightest if I'm deprived of alcohol. "There'll be more game nights. Chop chop, in the car."

The whole ride home, they stay heartless and refuse to turn to the club. I pout even more. "You don't love me!"

Arabella, seated next to me, shakes her head without even bothering to look up. "No, we don't. We're only friends with you because you're rich as fuck."

Hurt, I place my hand on my heart. "Ow! That one was mean!"

"Well, she can be a lot meaner and put laxative in your drink. Arabella, don't," Elias warns, seeing his girlfriend smirk at his comment. I grumble. "Great. Now you put it in her head."

She smiles, but her mock bullying crumbles fast and she throws her arms around my neck. "I do love you, sweetheart. Please don't be sad."

Elias parks the car, but since Arabella doesn't let go of me, I carry her inside. Dante rolls his eyes. "Arie, the man can barely stand on his legs. Give him a break."

She gets off me as though I'm caught on fire. "Oh, shit! I'm sorry!"

I grin, treading my fingers through her hair just to tease her. "It's fine, really. I'm okay."

Dante clearly doesn't think so and pushes me onto the couch. "Stay," he warns, glaring so much I decide, why not actually?

I curl up on the couch, my body finally relaxing. One of my leg starts shaking again, but I ignore it and turn to look at what the rest if doing in the kitchen. Apparently, they're gossipping about me, which is obvious when they stop talking to second they notice me listening. I frown, "What?"

"Nothing," Dante says. "We're warming up milk for you and discussing the game. Why don't you take a blanket and make yourself comfortable?"

I mean. . . that doesn't even sound half bad. "Alright."