Page 121 of The Substitute

Once again, Tobi slept at Savage’s.

I hate it.

Nights are mine.

Even if Tobi and I are barely speaking, it feels wrong for him to be anywhere else at night. I don’t know how to fix this, and it’s driving me crazy.

Savage can get bent if he thinks I’m giving up nights regularly. Fuck that. Tobi belongs in our fucking dorm room with me. It’s my time with him. I look forward to it every day, so when he’s not there, it fucks me up. Sleep is difficult on a good day, but when he’s not with me, I barely get any rest.

Stripping out of my practice gear, I throw my helmet into my cubby. My movements are angry, aggressive, as I pull the layers off and get in the shower. For a minute, I stand in the water and lean my palms against the wall.

I’m jealous.

Things with Tobi are weird, and he’s spending more time with Savage. I’m losing him, and it’s killing me. Savage takes him out, probably introduces him to people. Tobi deserves that, and I know deep down I can’t give it to him. As much as it hurts, I know Tobi would be better off with Savage. Happier. Being withme would probably lead him back to the fucking bridge, and I can’t do that to him.

I clench my jaw as a lump forms in my throat. For just a second, I let it hurt. Let myself grieve the loss of the guy I love and can’t have. Once again, Savage is a better fit.

Fucking Savage.

He’s living off his mother’s money, my father’s money. How can he stand it? Knowing where it comes from? I know his dad was loaded when he died, but how much of that can be left? He loves his mom, I get it, and she protected him from my father, but my father is a fucking monster, and she stays with him.

I’m shaking when I shut off the water and wrap a towel around my waist. Most of the guys have left, but Osha is leaning against his cubby, clearly waiting for me.

“What?” I snap, not in the mood for whatever bullshit he’s about to throw at me.

“You’re not okay.”

“Thanks for the psych assessment. I’ll take your findings into consideration.” I turn my back on him and pull my clothes on.

“Everyone can see it, but no one knows why.”

“Alright, and? Glad to know you guys can read body language, congratulations. You want a cookie? A gold star?” I know he hasn’t done anything, but it’s not like I can talk about any of this without outing myself, let alone, who the fuck is sharing a guy with their step-brother? Not really a story I want to spread.

When I turn around, he’s in my face and for once, not smiling. It’s a little concerning. The guy does nothing but crack jokes all the time, but with his arms crossed and the straight line of his mouth, he’s not fucking around.

“Either you talk to me, talk to someone else on the team, talk to the team psych, or we tell Coach there’s something going on and he makes you go.”

“Those are fighting words, Osha. You really want to do this?”

He rolls his shoulders and stretches his neck. “Yeah, I do. You wanna hit me? Go ahead.” He taps his fist against his jaw. “But I’m swinging back, Captain.”

The fact that I consider it for a good thirty seconds tells me he’s right. I’m not okay, and I need to talk to someone. The realization deflates me, and I drop to the bench with my head in my hands.

Osha sits next to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. “We all have demons, man. But when they get loud, we gotta talk about it.”

“I fucking can’t.” I slump, my mood quickly going from angry to defeated.

I’m going to ruin every fucking chance I have of going pro because I’m fucked up over a guy.

“We all have secrets, but talking about them takes away the power they hold over us.”

I laugh, but it’s not funny. “Are you trying to get to the NHL?”

He shrugs. “Aren’t most of us?”

“And how common is the knowledge that you like men?” I look at him, needing to read his expression.

He moves his head left and right in a so-so way. “Eh. Kinda common?” He shrugs again. “Pretty sure the team knows.”