Page 93 of Hard to Get

“Oh right, you have sisters.”

“Yeah, and they weren’t shy about letting me know they were PMSing.”

We lay in lethargic silence for a moment.

Then he says, “That’s…” He hesitates. “That’s the first time I’ve ever done that in front of a woman.”

This surprises me. “Yeah?”

He swallows, his body tightening against mine. “Yeah. When I was a rookie in junior hockey, me and a couple other guys got put through this ugly hazing ritual.”

My heart kicks and my stomach tenses. “Oh no.”

He exhales. “Yeah. It was so fucked up. Humiliating.”

I close my eyes against the sting of tears. “How old were you?”

“Sixteen.”

“Oh God.” I lay my palm on his face. “That’s awful. I thought hockey was getting better than that.”

“Not then.” He clears his throat. “I was stupid enough to go to my coach and tell him what happened.”

My stomach feels even more nauseous. I pull in a breath and let it out. “What happened?”

“Nothing. I mean, he didn’t do anything about the hazing. He listened to me, thanked, me, showed me out of his office. Nothing ever happened to the guys who did it. Except…” He stops.

My mind is leaping ahead, imagining horrible scenarios.

“He took it out on me. Swearing at me, calling me names. One time, he slashed my stick in half during a practice. He told me I was too soft and he wanted me to fight more. He made a couple of us fight in practice. It was so fucking stupid.”

I swallow past the anguish lodged in my throat.

“So you got punished for telling the truth.”

“Basically, yeah.”

“I’m sorry you went through that. Is that… is that why you’re reluctant to talk to your coach about Bish and Sammy?”

“I guess, yeah. In hockey, it’s drilled into you that you shouldn’t make waves.”

“I get it. The “code”. It’s important to play as a team. But sometimes, that’s not healthy. You need to be able to speak up when you see something wrong.”

“And… the worst thing was… I did see something wrong. A couple of months later. It was happening to someone else. It was worse. And…” His voice chokes up. “I didn’t say anything.”

My eyes are wet. “Jayden.” My heart aches for him, for the teenage boy suffering because of a toxic ritual.

“I was afraid to tell my parents. I knew they’d do something and it could make things worse. The league has all the power to make or break your career. I also… didn’t want them to know how miserable I was.”

“As parents, that would be devastating.”

“Yeah. But I did tell them. I couldn’t play for that coach anymore. They wanted me to quit hockey altogether.” He rubs his eyes. “But in the end, they talked to the team and I got traded to Brandon. It was better. I took a couple of university courses and tried to put it all behind me.”

“I don’t think you can ever put something like that totally behind you.”

“No. You’re right. I think I told you one of the things I talk to kids about is bystander intervention. It happens too much. But a lot of kids don’t know what to do. Giving them the skills helps.”

My heart works in painful beats. “That’s a wonderful thing to do.”