Page 23 of Goalie Secrets

“It doesn’t mean I don’t like the new one. It’s good.”

“Good? The choreography alone is exceptional. And the new scenes have an original soundtrack. C’mon, you need to go on Monday. You can’t say it isn’t a better representation of Puerto Ricans.”

“Latinx culture brought to you by Steven Spielberg.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I’m glad I caught you, Jeremy.” Kyle walks into the room suddenly and stands beside Vanya. “How’s the session going?”

“Great,” I say curtly, because I’d rather return to theWest Side Storydebate I plan to win.

“I’ll update the report,” Vanya states. “I’m recommending an ultrasound for his right hip prior to our next session.”

“Sure, sure,” Kyle says distractedly before sitting down. “So, Jeremy, do you think you can get me some tickets for next Thursday? My sister and her family are visiting from Wisconsin.”

“How many do you need?”

“Three, if you can swing it.”

“I’ll leave them at Will Call under your name.”

“Thanks so much.” He stands and gives Vanya a slight nod before leaving.

“Does that happen all the time?” Vanya asks when the machine dings to signal the end of my session.

“Someone challenging my taste in musicals? Honestly, never.”

She grins and shakes her head. “I mean getting hit up for hockey tickets.”

“I don’t mind. My mom lives in Tucson and most of my friends are on the ice with me, so it’s not like I make frequent arrangements for comp tickets.”

“Didn’t your mom raise you here? You mentioned living in your childhood home.”

“Yeah, she raised me here, but her Guatemalan heritage finally won out. That woman is done with winters.”

That’s the simpler explanation. No need to get into the other reasons. It’s not like Dr. Vanya Kapur is ever going to meet Christina Lopez in person.

“Who can blame her?” Vanya chuckles. “Well, Jeremy, you did great. How do you feel?”

My legs are great but my dick hurts.

“Ready to get on the ice,” I declare, grateful that the doctor and I are past our rocky start. The only thing difficult about this arrangement is how I get when she’s near. My reaction to my doctor is not only unusual, it is unprecedented.

For one, I don’t constantly think about sex the way my dad does. I’m not a manwhore like him.

Also, the stereotype of the promiscuous hockey player is a generalization that never applied to me. The idea is almost laughable. Unlike some of my teammates, the idea of sleepingwith a stranger—no matter how superficially appealing—repels me.

The truth is, most of the time, I’m indifferent. Physically, I might have a reaction. However, simple attraction isn’t enough for me. So why have I gotten spontaneously aroused by Vanya from the first day I met her? Why can’t I stop thinking about touchingher?

The questions are irrelevant. What matters is getting over my unprecedented reaction. And soon.

I am a Maple Leafs fan by default. It is a fact that comes with being raised in Toronto. I cheer for the blue and white, so entering an arena to support another team feels like a betrayal.

A security guard with a Mavericks cap smiles at me to reveal vampire teeth and the hint of blood at the corner of his mouth. Everyone in Columbus is determined to remind me it’s Halloween.

“Hey, Sabrina! Is our captain scoring a hat trick tonight?” he asks.

Sabrina, looking svelte in her black outfit with gray lines across the torso to look like a goalie net and a flashing red headlamp on her head—to simulate the goal light when she flicks a switch—answers cheerfully. “You got it, Mr. Mathias!”