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I never thought I would be the kind of person to have a breakdown. But after a home game one night, everyone's changing in the locker room and talking, and Sam has been home from the hospital for a week, and I'm so, so tired, I just start crying.

Everyone freezes and goes really quiet. But I can't stop the way my shoulders are shaking, and I sit on the bench and try to breathe as I choke out sobs. Then Matthew is the first to react.

"Give him some space," he says. "Everyone, get out for a minute." The team mumbles as they finish pulling on their shirts, dark blue lockers slamming. "Everybody, go." They listen to their co-captain. Ethan shoots me a confused look before the locker room door slams shut, and then it's just me and Matthew.

I think he's going to punch me and my body tenses, but he just sits down on the bench.

"Why are you crying?"

"It's nothing."

"Don't bullshit me, Beckett." I've never heard him talk that way to me before. He doesn't sound like he wants to kill me.

I glance up at him. My face is heating up. How fucking pathetic can you get? "I said, it's nothing."

"You've been acting different." Matthew is staring at me with a neutral face, his dark eyes and sharp features flashing in the fluorescent light. At least he's not trying to be sympathetic.

"I'm tired."

"You don't cry when you're tired."

"Can you just leave me the fuck alone?" I rub at my cheeks with my jersey sleeve. "I haven't slept well recently."

"Right."

"Besides, you hate me."

Matthew's eyes narrow like he's offended. "I don't hate you."

"Yes, you do."

"Maybe I did, sometimes. But not right now. How can I hate a guy who's crying? That's embarrassing."

"Shut up."

"I'm just asking. Why are you crying?"

I stare at my hands on my lap and don't answer. He scowls.

"Our best player is currently crying in the fucking locker room. How are we supposed to win games like that?"

I shrug. I worried that if I talk, I'll start crying again.

"Tell me," Matthew says. "What is it? School? Your parents? It very fucking well can't be hockey, you just won a gold medal at World Juniors, for fuck's sake -"

"I said shut up, Matthew."

"Honestly, if you're just going to sit here and cry like a -"

"I can't be a gay hockey player." The words hang in the air like a dead weight.

Shock washes over Matthew's face. "What?"

"I can't be a gay hockey player." I stare at my hands and stare at my hands and stare at my hands as heavy tears threaten to fall.

Matthew is quiet for a long time. Then, softer than he's ever spoken before, he asks, "Why?"

I glare at him, anger suddenly flaring inside of me. I know my eyes are red and blotchy. "Do you know how many gay players have played in the NHL?"

"Um, no -"

"Zero."

"So?"

"I can't be gay and be a good hockey player, Matthew." I know my words sound desperate, and something like fear flickers through Matthew's eyes. "I can't be both. Great hockey players aren't gay. I want to be a great hockey player."

"You can still be a -"

"No, I can't. Do you know how many people are watching me? How many people like me? All the news articles online about me?"

Matthew nods slowly.

"Do you know how they'd react? In this fucking religious town, do you really not know how they'd react?" I'm standing on my feet, my hands clenched at my side. "Do you know what some people do to gay people?"

Matthew opens his mouth to say something, but I don't let him.

"Do you know how religious my family is? Do you know how shit like this would affect my career, my friendships, my family? Do you know what some people do to gay people? The way they hurt them? I've seen it. Do you know how many gay players in the NHL there are?"

Matthew looks frozen, sitting on the bench, his eyes wide. He stays silent.

"You know how many!" I shout. My words are so angry and mean they could catch fire.

"Soon there'll be one," he says, not unkindly.

And then I'm crying again, my angry words doused in water, and I can't stop.

Matthew just watches me, and I sit on the ground against the lockers and jesus, everything hurts so bad and I hate feeling this way, I hate the way everything hurts and I hate the way Sam is hurt and I hate this sport that I love.

Matthew clears his throat. "Can you like, talk to your parents about it or anything?" He shifts on the bench, obviously uncomfortable, but he hasn't left. "Your dad?"

"I don't have a dad."

"Oh. Your mom?"

I shrug, rubbing the harsh fabric of my jersey against my cheek. "I don't know."

Matthew pushes his tongue against the inside of his mouth like he's struggling with what to say. "Cameron... you're a good player."

"Matthew, shut up."

"No, seriously. An amazing player, actually. You shouldn't..." he sighs. He's not very good with words. Neither am I. "I mean, every single NHL team is dying to have you. They'd take you no matter what... or who... or, whatever. You know."

I shrug again.

"You shouldn't have to sacrifice... you know, loving someone, to play the game you're great at."

I stare at my sneakers. "Everyone will hate me."

"I won't hate you." I glance up and he laughs. "Anymore. I won't hate you anymore."

"It's hard," I say.

"What about other gay kids that like hockey? Or any sport, really? They'll, y'know, look up to you."

"It's hard."

"I know," says Matthew. "But...won't it make you happy?"

The locker room door swings open and we both jump. Ethan sticks his head in.

"Are you guys okay?" he calls out, his voice echoing throughout the room. His eyes bounce back between Matthew and I.

"Yeah," says Matthew, standing up. He swings his bag over his shoulder and stretches out his hand. I grab it and he pulls me up. Then he walks out of the locker room, brushing past Ethan.

Ethan's eyes are wide, scanning me up and down. I pull my baseball hat lower over my face.

"Are you okay, dude?" he breathes.

"Yeah," I say. "Let's just go."

Ethan doesn't put on any music in the car, so we listen to the thumping of cold rain against the roof and the squeak of the windshield wipers. He's quiet, for once.

Soon there'll be one.

That's the first time Matthew and I have called each other by our first names.

Won't it make you happy?


A/N progress people progress. also, are we kind of nearing the end of the book? maybe slightly? idk? I don't plan these things out so I guess we'll find out together? thanks everyone for all the votes and comments, this book is #430 right now in teen fic which is crazy!! :)

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