Page 28

“Then the score better be a banger.”

If someone had told me twenty-four hours ago that I would be sitting in a diner, holding hands with Daddy B, surrounded by hockey players, and debating the merits of what makes a good Disney movie, I would’ve thought you’d lost your mind. But here I was doing exactly that. Mind-boggling .

When Rafe Lindstrom, the team captain, sat in the chair next to me, I noticed his tattoo on his forearm.

It was an old-fashioned brass bed with sparkles around one of the front bed posts.

Sitting on the bed was a black cat and a broom, and a suit of armor stood next to it.

An Angela Lansbury classic. When I complimented his ink, it launched into a discussion of why it was the best movie ever made, according to Rafe. He had a list ready to go.

“Look, I’m not saying that it’s not a great film. What I am saying is that some are significantly better.”

“I’m going to need an example.”

“Have you considered The Three Lives of Thomasina ? Not the most well-known, but it’s still pretty fantastic.”

“You talked mostly about musicals, and that’s not a musical. But if we’re including non-musicals, then Ratatouille is at the top.” I sat back in my chair, arms folded with a smug look. I had this one.

“I’ll see your Ratatouille and raise you The Goofy Movie .”

Oh, I hadn’t considered that one at all. He might have gotten me on that one. I needed to rethink my plan of attack.

“Hey, baby boy, go easy on Rafe. He’s had a rough week too.” Daddy B winked at me when he said it, but I spiraled.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Am I making it worse? I thought we were just being, you know, friendly?” I glanced worriedly at Rafe in the chair next to me, who, to my surprise, glared at Daddy B.

“I’m not trying to steal your boy, Tater. I’m enjoying a conversation about my favorite thing.” He turned to me and said, “You’re making it better. Ignore him.”

“ Uh,” Wojak interjected. “Your favorite thing is Disney movies? That would make sense if you were five.”

“Who the fuck asked you?” Matty interrupted. “And he’s your goddamn captain so show some goddamn respect.” I hadn’t realized Matty had been listening to the conversation from across the table. He looked pissed off, but when he glanced at Rafe, that switched into concern.

“Wojak, get the fuck out. We’re tired of your shit,” Matty snarled.

“I’m just saying what everyone here is thinking,” Wojack whined.

A chorus of fuck offs and you can leave floated down the table while Rafe looked even more surprised than me.

It was sweet how the team came to their captain’s defense.

Wojak glanced around, looking for an ally, and found none.

Rather than continue the fight, he shoved his way away from the table and stormed out. No one followed him.

“Someone should tell Wojak that being a non-starter on a losing hockey team doesn’t come with as much clout as he thinks it does,” Rafe said dryly to his retreating back.

“Hey, Cooper, now that the little pisser is gone, I wanted to ask if it was all right if my brother sits with you in the family section for our last game?” Matty asked.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“On the last game of the season? Family night?” I glanced bewilderedly at Daddy B and then returned my attention to Matty.

“Yeah, I don’t know anything about that.”

“So, on the last game of the season, family and significant others are invited to the game, and then for graduating seniors, there’s a little celebration for them on the ice.”

I realized Daddy B had to know about the tradition but hadn’t invited me. Oh. This was awkward. Matty’s face turned stormy as he pointedly stared at Daddy B. The last thing I wanted this evening was another argument or confrontation with anyone. I had reached my limit of those.

“You can stop giving me dirty looks.” Daddy B mean-mugged Matty before turning his attention back to me. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go this evening, but we got sidetracked. The families all sit together, so you’d be sitting with my parents.”

“Yeah, my parents can’t make it, but my brother just moved here, and I thought the two of you might get along. Since he just moved to town, I thought it would be cool if he met someone he’d get along with.”

“You think he’ll like me?” I asked skeptically.

“Yeah, he’s really into cartoons and stuff too. When he wants to relax, he likes to color like you do.”

“How do you know that?”

“The other day, when you were waiting for Tate, I saw you coloring in the equipment room.”

“You like to color?” Rafe interrupted to ask. I glanced at Daddy B before I answered, and he nodded encouragingly.

“Yeah, I do.”

“That’s cool. Me too.” Daddy B’s eyes went soft and he gave me a sweet smile. In my ear, he whispered, “Maybe you should tell Rafe you like stuffies too?”

“Are you serious?” I stared at him in shock. He wanted me to admit that I liked stuffies in public to another adult. That would be the end of me.

“Maybe he needs someone to be brave.”

I knew Daddy B wouldn’t have suggested it unless he had a valid reason. He was meticulous about almost everything. If he was encouraging me to share with Rafe, there was a reason.

“I, uh, like stuffies too. Do you?”

“You do?” He whispered like we’d hatched a conspiracy. “I keep one in my hockey bag, but nobody knows about it.”

“I’m pretty sure at least one person does because B suggested I tell you that I like them too.”

“You think he knows?”

“Pretty sure, yes, but he’d never, ever say anything.”

Rafe looked around the table, and after seeing that everyone appeared to be preoccupied, he asked, “Is he your Daddy?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“Because I’m jealous that you have one.”