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Chapter Sixteen

Campbell

The holidays were over, and the semester had begun. I’d had a quiet holiday at home, except for all the times one or both of my parents cornered me to talk about my future.

“Son, if it’s too much stress …”

“Dad, you’re the one who said that when I’m playing hockey, it’s the opposite of stressful.”

“Is that still true, kiddo?”

“It was just a few bad games, Dad. I’ll work through it.”

“Then what’s really going on?” When had Mom come in from outside?

I had shared a little with my dad over the Thanksgiving holiday about having met someone but had tried to play it down as just a first crush, someone I barely had anything in common with, someone who definitely wouldn’t want to be with me.

Dad looked from me to Mom, and I knew without a doubt that he’d talked to her about it. They had a whole silent conversation over my head before Mom came and sat at the foot of the big kitchen table, putting me between the two of them.

Her cheeks were rosy from her time outside on the frigid winter day. I climbed out of my seat to try and escape the laser-beam cage their eyes were surrounding me in, but I knew there was no escape from the conversation. I poured a cup of coffee for Mom and refilled Dad’s before sitting back down, intentionally ensnaring myself.

I tugged a hand through my hair, and Mom caught it on the way back down, squeezing it tight.

“My sweet boy. Always when you’re stressed. If you don’t want to play hockey …”

“I do want to play hockey. I just don’t …”

I sighed, and they sighed along with me, both of them placing a hand on my back, Mom still holding mine tightly. Instinctively, I went to run my hand through my hair again, but her grip remained.

“I thought it would be easier to stay in the closet. If no one knew, it wouldn’t matter. Coach Beckett used to drill into me that hockey had to be my sole focus. Did you guys know that he used to tell me not to worry about my schoolwork? I was late for practice one time—one time, when I was helping you guys with a birth out in the field, and he told me I shouldn’t be helping with the farm!”

“We knew he was tough on you kids, but no, I definitely didn’t know that part about your homework. You were always so studious. You always managed everything so beautifully.”

“Yeah. I tried. But how I managed it was by cutting certain things out. Not having much of a social life was a safe choice. It kept me in the closet and …”

Mom’s grip on my hand tightened. “Coach Beckett told you to stay in the closet?”

“No, Mom, he didn’t know. But he did tell me that I shouldn’t have any distractions, and that relationship drama was a distraction.”

“He was a big influence on you,” my Dad said, understanding blooming. “On your play, for sure. I guess I never realized that his advice bled out into other areas of your life.” Dad looked over my head to Mom. “I reminded Cam over Thanksgiving that lots of NHL players manage to have a social life and play hockey. It might not be easy …”

Mom picked up the thread. “But no relationship is, honey. As a matter of fact,” she said, still looking at her husband, “the relationships that are worth fighting for are usually the ones worth having. Don’t give your life up for the NHL, Campbell. You can have both.”

Though we would talk about it more over the short time I spent at home over the holidays, I didn’t get the chance at that moment to remind them how much more difficult my social life would be compared to other players because my younger brother walked in at that moment.

“Really? I won’t even get to escape having serious talks with you two when I’m in college? Quick, Cam. I’ll distract them, you run!”

In the end, my parents understood why I felt the need to stay in the closet, though they weren’t happy about it. We did agree that I shouldn’t hide the fact from the NHL or anyone we hired to help me navigate my career.

Like every other break, the hockey team returned early after the New Year holiday. I assumed Josh wasn’t staying on campus, but I knew he was nearby at his parents’ home. Thoughts of him consumed me. Everything reminded me of him, from the Hockey House, to the rink, to the twin dorms where he lived. Even places around campus that we had never shared reminded me of Josh. I felt him everywhere.

Classes started, and I scanned each of mine, hoping he’d be there, even the ones for my major, which I knew he wouldn’t be in. I’d been back for two weeks and hadn’t run into him. Countless times I pulled out my phone, contemplating our text chain, but I was afraid of those telltale dots showing up on his phone if he happened to be doing the same thing at the same time.

Then of course, I’d scoff at the thought of Josh the player pining after some virgin. I’d picture what he was more likely doing on his phone, swiping right with abandon and enjoying his last semester of college. It didn’t sit well with me, but I tried to convince myself that I was happy for Josh to get on with his life.

One night Diane showed up at the Hockey House while Noah was still out to dinner with the rest of our roommates. I’d stayed home to video chat with my youngest brother.

I let Diane in while I was still on the phone but said goodbye to Danny as we walked back toward the living room.

“They should be home soon,” I said as I walked past the couch, on my way to my room.

“I know. Keep me company?”

“Sure.”

“What’s new?”

I laughed. “You’re here every day, Diane. Pretty sure there’s nothing new since you left this morning.”

“Valid point. So, um, do you ever hear from Josh anymore?”

My heart began to pound. I’d confessed my time with Josh to Noah and assumed he’d shared with his girlfriend, though I’m sure he’d kept his word and not shared my secret with anyone else.

“We were just study partners. We …”

“Cam.” She leaned in and whispered even though we were alone. “I don’t get why you had to stop seeing him.”

“I was never seeing him,” I whispered back.

She gave me a look that called bullshit.

“I came out to my parents over Thanksgiving,” I confessed.

“That’s great!” She placed a hand on my knee and gave it a squeeze. “Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not.” There was that look again.

“No really, I’m not, because I will tell you what I told them. I’m going to stay in the closet. I have to stay in the closet. So even if I wanted to date, even if someone like Josh wanted to be with me, which he doesn’t, it wouldn’t be fair to him … to anyone,” I added quickly. I’m not sure how it was possible that her look intensified.

“Josh is a player. He’s not looking for a relationship. Never was. We were just … project partners.”

“People can change, you know.”

I mirrored her quizzical look.

“You know, I used to be a bit of a player myself. I accelerated my undergrad so I could start working in PT and subsidize my graduate degree. It was a solid plan, but it didn’t leave me much time for romance.” Her face lit up. “Then I met Noah, and I just knew he was the one. I didn’t need those apps anymore. I just needed him. And I don’t know Josh that well, but what if that’s what happened for him?”

“I appreciate you sharing that with me, Diane, but it’s not the same. I can’t imagine Josh ever wanting me, and even if I could, I can’t imagine him hiding in my closet. He told me as much!”

Diane rose and kissed my forehead. “I get it, I really do. It’s complicated and messy, and the stakes are really high for you right now. Just keep in mind, sometimes people do change. Did you plan to come out to your parents? Or your best friend, or his girlfriend, this year?”

I did think about Diane’s words, and I continued to think about Joshua Marchetti-Gordon practically every minute of every day. Games would be starting up, and I needed to get my focus back on the ice. A million times, I almost opened my messaging app and reached out to him. If only to have one last conversation. One last time for him to let me down gently and dash any foolish hopes I might have harbored. One more time where maybe I could touch him and hold him and pretend I was like him, and that I could walk away from our time together with a, “Thanks, man.”

Every time I thought about it, I concluded that it wasn’t Josh’s responsibility for me to get over him. I had to do that on my own.

I happened to be sitting on the couch, staring at my phone and actively not opening up the messaging app when Diane and Noah shoved my jacket in my face a few days later.

“Get dressed, Cam. We’re going out!”

I may have groaned. “No. I have to study.”

“We only had three days of classes this week, and it’s the weekend. You’ve got plenty of time for homework.”

“Practice,” I threw out.

“Canceled. The coaches have that all-athletic staff conference thing this weekend.”

“I don’t want to!”

“Not good enough.”

“Let’s go next weekend!”

“Today’s the last day. I’ve been at HU for five years, and I’ve never been. We’re going,” Diane insisted.

I knew playing third wheel would be a mistake, and that absolutely turned out to be the case. We took a bus from campus to the state park. Diane and Noah were able to grab two seats together, and I was rows behind them, sitting with an excited coed who kept turning in her seat to talk to the two girls behind her.

I’ll admit the view pulling into the park was almost worth the trip. As we walked in, the area with a small stage, picnic tables, booths, and a few large tents opened up to a small pond, surrounded by massive, verdant trees on one side. People skated around like something out of a Thomas Kinkade painting. A mountain peak loomed behind everything.

“And when it warms up”—Diane tried to include me in the conversation by turning around—“we have to come back and hike. You can see the campus from one of the trails up the mountain.”

“Cool.” I smiled at her as she led us to the booth set up near the rink.

“Skate with us, Cam?” she offered sweetly. I looked at Noah, who shrugged at me.

“No, you two go. I’m going to grab a hot chocolate, and then I’ll snap some pictures of you two out on the ice.”

“Oh, that would be lovely.” Diane kissed me on the cheek. “It’s so romantic here. Don’t you think?” I could feel her strong, physical therapist's hands squeezing my upper arm through my coat.

The two skated for a bit, and I was happy to get some nice shots of them on the ice together even as the images made me think about my own lonely status. I’d never even made it out on the ice with Josh that morning I’d dragged him to the rink, the morning we’d kissed and he’d turned my world upside down.

I sighed in frustration and vowed to myself to be positive for the rest of the afternoon. As the couple worked their way around the pond, I headed to the booth with shelves of skates behind it and was surprised to find two of the guys who worked at the rink on campus staffing it.

“Dex! Pete! Hey, guys.”

“Fifty-Nine. You need a pair of skates? We can hook you up. No charge.”

I laughed. “No. I’m here with Noah and his girlfriend.” I point to the ice. “Just waiting on them.”

We all watched as Diane lost her footing, Noah quickly wrapping an arm around her and pulling her to him. Once she steadied, he took her hand and led her for one more lap around the pond. The sun was setting, and the strings of lights that were positioned around the pond turned on as if the image and the moment hadn’t been picturesque enough.

“It’s a romantic setting,” Pete opined as we watched my friends talk and laugh.

“Romantic,” I muttered.

Just like everything else in Hampstead Valley, being at the Winter Festival reminded me of Josh. I pictured him there with his family. I looked around, like maybe we were even there at the same time, him with his friends or some guy he’d met online. Every time I thought about him, I really did try to think about getting over him.

But in that picture-postcard, stupidly perfect setting, all I could think about was being with him: about us out on that ice, laughing and talking and just having fun together. I couldn’t fool myself any longer. All the times I pulled out my phone imagining asking Josh to confirm one more time that we shouldn’t be together, all I really wanted was for him to agree that we could be.

I thought about my mom’s words, that the best relationships were those worth fighting for, and I thought about Diane’s as well. Maybe, just maybe, sometimes things, or people, did change.

I opened the text chain that I’d been avoiding for weeks.

“Do you guys work this every year?”

“The Festival? Yeah. This is the last day for it, but this setup will stay open for another few weeks, weather permitting. Lots of youth groups and school trips will take place on this ice before we pack these skates up for the season.”

My heart soared as I asked, “What time do you close tomorrow?”

Before I could think better of it, I’d sent a text: Ever been to the Winter Festival?

I kept the conversation with Josh to one- or two-word answers but got him to agree to meet me at the park the following evening.

Pete was there, and he turned the lights on around the pond as I sat on one of the benches to lace up. He’d set another pair of skates next to me.

“I really appreciate you doing this, Pete.” He was fiddling with the sound system settings until music spilled out of the speakers.

“And I expect you not to forget that when it comes time to send out invites to your box at your first championship game.”

“Pete!” I immediately stopped what I was doing to knock on the wooden bench with both hands.

“I know. I know.” He bent down to tap on the bench as well. “You’re welcome.” Pete showed me the breaker for the lights and the switch for the music before taking off.

With the Festival over, the park technically closed at sundown, but Pete assured me he’d let the park ranger know that I would be there.

I watched Pete walk away, and as he crested a small hill, a man walked past him.

I stood on my skates, wanting to run toward him but refraining. It was good to see him, bundled up in a wool coat, dapper as ever with a maroon-colored scarf and matching beanie. Gloves covered his hands, and as he got closer, I noticed they were leather. The blue denim of his jeans peaked out from below a coat that reached past his knees, his winter boots matching the charcoal gray of the jacket.

“He’s perfect,” I breathed, barely realizing that I'd said it out loud as he approached me, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I told you the Festival was over,” he led with as he took an exaggerated look around the deserted area. He could have said anything, and my broad smile would have been just the same.

“Hi,” I replied.

“Hey.” He smiled.

“You came.”

“I said I would. What are we doing here, Cam?” I thought about answering, but I was not quite ready to yet.

“Here. Put these on.”