The Sound of Ice

34

I rub my face and yawn loudly, shuffling into the kitchen.

"'Morning," I say, sitting down beside Veronica at the table. The sky outside is just beginning to lighten, a faint shade of dark blue. "Can you pass me the cereal box?"

"Look at all this, Cameron," says Mom, who's leaning over the kitchen counter, going through the mail. She's still in her robe and slippers. "There's a lot of letters here for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Fan mail," mumbles Veronica, but her eyes are barely open and her head is propped up by her hand.

"Let me see," I say. 

Mom hands me the stack of letters - at least six or seven - and I glance through the addresses. 

"A couple from Ontario. One from Quebec, Alberta, B.C... two from the States..." I flip over one of the envelopes, a pale blue color scrawled over with messy handwriting. There's a rainbow sticker on the back. 

Veronica narrows her eyes. "Well? Open them."

"I will later," I say. 

Mom leans against the table, holding her coffee mug with two hands. "Just open them, Cameron."

"I will later." 

"They're from fans, probably," says Veronica.

"I know. I said I will later." 

Veronica and Mom exchange a look. I go to my bedroom to get changed. Is it so bad I don't want to open the letters right now? I run a finger over the rainbow sticker, faded and frayed along the edges, and stick the letters in my desk drawer. 

~

"I don't know," I say to Sam later, twisting a plastic fork in my fingers. "I don't know. Is it difficult for you?"

Sam tucks his hands in his sweatshirt sleeves and shrugs, a blush spreading across his cheeks. "I don't think so. But not everyone is the same, Cameron."

I set the fork down and sit on my hands, glancing around the cafeteria. Some days, Sam and I sit together now. That's new. I like it. 

"Coach says I should release an official statement. That I'm... you know, before the NHL draft picks. Just so it's... official."

"Do you want to?"

"I don't know."

His eyes flicker around my face, and he smiles softly. "You don't have to do anything. There isn't any pressure."

"But there is pressure. A lot of people are watching me, Sam. I got fan letters."

"What'd they say?"

"I didn't open them. I don't know how -" Three chatty girls walk past our table and I clear my throat, my eyes following them until they've passed. I lower my voice. "I can't be, like, a gay role model for all these people. I don't know how to do that. I don't even know who I am."

"You don't have to be perfect. You just have to be... yourself. That's what everyone wants, to be themselves. That's the thing."

"Maybe." I watch as Sam takes a bite out of his sandwich.

"Besides," he says. "Everyone is here to support you."

"Not everyone." I look over Sam's shoulder to the baseball team's table. A couple of the players are glancing over at us and grinning. 

"A lot of people," says Sam. "It'll work out, Cam."

"Cameron."

He laughs. "C'mon."

"Don't do this to me." I'm smiling. 

He takes another bite of his sandwich. "Besides, you still have to teach me hockey."

"Teach you hockey?"

"Yeah. I haven't played in forever. I don't remember."

I grin. "Fine."

"That took a lot of convincing."

"You know, I liked you better when you were smart instead of sarcastic."

He laughs again, and I smile. But I still feel bad, for some reason, and I'm not hungry. Because Sam is gay, and smart, and kind, and I don't know what I am. I'm good at hockey? And I want to kiss Sam. And everyone expects me to be more than that.

~

As I walk outside the locker room, Coach slaps my shoulder so hard my knees nearly buckle.

"Beckett," he says. "A word?"

We step to the side as my teammates walk past us, shooting us brief glances. But I mean, c'mon, it's not like he hasn't yelled at me before. 

"Coach," I say.

"Alright, I'll give it to you straight," he says, pulling at his tie. "The press wants something from you. An interview, whatever."

"I don't know if I can do that."

"Kid, I'm not going to be the one to pressure you. But this might be a good decision, career-wise. Everyone up top is wondering why you're creating such a buzz. You just have to let them know it's not for a bad reason."

I open my mouth to say something, then bite my lip instead. 

"Beckett. If you're worried about your future with the NHL, it's secure. All the teams that want you, they don't care who you're making out with."

Oh, Jesus. I blush like Sam does. 

"I'm just saying. I'm just saying, okay?" He twists his mouth and glances at his watch, then back to me. "Alright? You hear me?"

"Yes, Coach."

He slaps my shoulder again. "Okay, now forget all that shit. We have a game against the IceDogs this weekend, and you know that goalie is good."

"Yeah."

But I don't forget all that shit. I think about it all through practice.

~

I would talk to Sam about it, but then he gets the flu. 

A/N I already wrote the next chapter, I'll post it in a few hours so keep an eye out for it!!