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“You want to come over, make some popcorn and maybe something chocolatey?”

“You gonna watch the game?” He walked toward her, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“I wasn’t going to put you through that. We can watch something else. Whatever you want.”

“Actually”—he sounded ashamed to admit this, even to his own ears—“I’d like to watch the game. It’s… I haven’t been able to not watch. I’ve tried, and the TV ends up on anyway. It’ll be good to watch with someone else.”

“The game it is, then.”

Aaron didn’t miss the concern in her voice.

“Have you talked to him?”

She nodded as they walked down the empty school hallway. “Just once, before he went up to Boston. But not about you. I haven’t pressed him, just like I haven’t pushed to get you to talk. Other than that, we trade texts about the games.”

“He’s doing okay?”

She shrugged. “I think he’s going through the motions to do what he needs to do. He’s arranging to have the youth team come down for one of the round two home games. He’s trying to make it so they can skate on the ice at The Garden too.”

“They’ll love that, even if it’s just the game.” Just another aspect of Caleb for Aaron to love. Why did his mind have to insert that word—love? It was accurate, though. Caleb had gone out of his way to help the kids in practice. Making it so they can attend a playoff game was just an extension of that.

In the parking lot, they took a moment before they went their cars. “See you before the first face-off?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there a little before seven thirty.”

“Perfect.”

Aaron got in his car, thankful he wasn’t going to be home watching the game solo tonight. Maybe he’d pull out of his rut this weekend. The youth team played Saturday and Sunday, and he could go watch. He enjoyed working with them, and while it’d be a reminder of Caleb, being around the other parents and the kids would probably be good for him.

On the way home, his mind replayed all the arguments he had for not being with Caleb. As much as he knew Caleb wasn’t—and could never be—Tyson, he kept focusing on how bad his last relationship was. He’d done research and looked up the hockey players Caleb mentioned and found many others who seemingly had thriving marriages.

It was harder to deny that there was a hole in his life that seemed to grow larger the more he didn’t see, or at least talk to, Caleb.

It was silly. It wasn’t like they’d spent every moment of every day together when Caleb was in town. But when he’d been there, they usually saw each other for at least part of every day.

At home Aaron headed straight for the bedroom to get out of his school clothes. His phone chirped as he emptied his pockets. The lock screen showed it was a text from Grant, which was odd. He hadn’t heard from Grant since his New York trip. The text was simple: Wanted to make sure you saw this. There was a Facebook URL.

Aaron’s finger hovered over the URL. Grant was a good guy; there was no way he’d send something better left unseen. Aaron clicked to a public Facebook post from a teenager named David Eisenberg. Aaron didn’t know where to look first because he was stunned by what was on screen. The photo showed David holding up the picture of Aaron and Caleb, with Caleb’s autograph beneath it. In the text, Aaron saw Caleb and Dimitri were tagged.

Thanks to Caleb Carter and Dimitri Stanislov for spending a few minutes talking to me after last night’s Rangers/Bruins game. Caleb, you stopped even though you had food in your hand and were on the way to your bus. You even ignored that I had a Boston shirt on (sorry about that). You autographed this picture and mentioned that it only takes one person to step up and be a leader to make a change. That starts by saying right here, to everyone, that I’m gay. Thanks for helping me to see that it’s okay for me to say that.

David’s Facebook page showed that he went to a Boston high school, and there were pictures of him in hockey gear too. The comments on his post were overwhelmingly positive. Many congratulated him for finally coming out and said how cool it was that he’d met Caleb and Dimitri. There were a few nasty comments, and those were met head-on by David’s friends and even David himself, who invited some of them to try to say those words to his face. Still others simply offered thanks for sharing his story.

One of the early comments was from Caleb—at the end of the post were his initials, which meant it wasn’t Grant posting.

Congratulations on taking this step. I’m proud of you, and so is Dimitri. We’ve both got your back. We look forward to coming up to see you and your team. And you can still wear that Boston sweatshirt. :) ^CC

Farther down, another post caught his eye, this one from the Bruins’ official team page.

We’ve got your back too, David. Caleb told us your story, and we look forward to working with him to spread the You Can Play message at your school. Stay strong and always remember you’ve got a lot of people on your team. And we’ll understand if you start wearing a Rangers shirt—but only if it’s one sporting Caleb’s number.

Aaron set the phone on the dresser. He wasn’t sure how to process this. Caleb had always been a good guy, but this seemed above and beyond even for him. Aaron wished he could just pick up the phone and call Caleb to talk more about his random meeting with the teen hockey player. Calling, however, probably wouldn’t be good for either one of them.

“I really fucked up,” he said to the empty room. Maybe he should take the advice Caleb gave David and stand up for the change he wanted.

Would Caleb take him back if he asked? It was branded on Aaron’s heart that Caleb had said that he loved Aaron. Twice. And Aaron hadn’t reciprocated. He’d almost said it, but couldn’t. Was Caleb even missing him?

Was the ball even in Aaron’s court—or more aptly, was the puck in his zone? All of the reasons why a relationship wouldn’t work had come from Aaron, while Caleb remained the optimist and actively shot them down. The puck was likely on Aaron’s stick to make the next play. He could either ice it out of play or pass it to Caleb with some sign that they should continue.