“Time-out!” Griffin calls. The ref blows his whistle. I skate to the bench. My teammates look at me like I’m crazy. Fuentes grabs my shoulder. “Buddy, talk to me,” he pleads. I don’t have an answer for him. I go to the bench, drink water, and sulk. I feel myself spiraling deeper into this hole. “Gross.” I look up and find Griffin at our bench. “Come with me,” he says. “You can’t call a time-out with the other team,” Fuentes says. “I need to speak with my boyfriend,” Griffin says, shutting everyone up. He holds out his hand to me, and we skate to the center of the ice. The whole crowd murmurs,
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