Page 94 of Game Misconduct

“Leif?” Tanner said.

“Uhh, yeah.” He focused back on the screen.

“You were saying there was something going on with the team?”

“Oh.” Leif shifted, sighing. “It’s not really the team. It’s where I fit.”

He told Tanner about the situation with Nicky and finished with, “I feel like I’m being a terrible teammate. Aren’t I supposed to be happy that my captain is back?”

Tanner, who had been surprisingly quiet through the whole thing, said, “Well, you’re not, like,unhappyhe’s back, right?”

“No. No, I’m happy for him. I’m just … selfishly thinking about how it impacts me.”

“Well, I think it’s bullshit that we’re not supposed to ever be selfish on a team,” Tanner said. “I mean, okay, so maybe we do have to put the team first for most things, but we still havefeelings. We can’t just … magically turn them off.”

“No?”

Tanner shrugged. “Well, I can’t.”

“You have all of the feelings all of the time.”

Laughing, Tanner pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Pretty much.”

“So how do you balance that?” Leif asked. “I just start thinking about how I was on this great path. I was centering the top line, I was getting the A at times, I was … I felt like I was entering the next part of my career, you know? Becoming aleader.”

“Okay, well, I think you can be a leader without having a letter,” Tanner said. “Like, Crawford and I don’t have letters but we sure fucking hype that room up. I’m in charge of music and I get the energy going and Crawford fires the boys up to battle. So not to brag but?—”

“You’re totally bragging,” Leif pointed out.

Tanner gave him a crooked smile. “Fine. To totally brag, I’m a leader too. And maybe not in the way Connor or Grahamor Mickey do it. Or even Jesse. But it doesn’t mean I’m not important in that room. That Crawford’s role isn’t important.”

Leif scowled. “Yeah, his role is taking out our captain with dirty hits.”

“Not what I meant.”

“It’s what I meant.” Leif tried not to smile, because he was trying to be serious here, but he could feel the corners of his mouth creeping up anyway. “But I get what you’re saying.”

“So what’s your role in New York? And I don’t mean on the ice. Not the A, not what line you’re on, or how that line is deployed. What’s your role in the locker room?”

Leif shrugged. “A guy who sits there quietly and takes it all in?”

Tanner made a face. “Of course you are.”

“I never—I never know what tosay,” he admitted. “I’m not a big speech guy and I—I’m not good at finding common ground with people or starting conversations.”

“Oh man, that sucks.”

Leif had expected Tanner to chirp him, and the sudden understanding made his throat tighten. “Sometimes,” he agreed. “I mean, Iloveplaying. I love being on the team, but I always feel—I don’t know. Like somehow I don’t quitefit.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know.” Leif sighed. “I always wondered if it was because of my dad. Like, I’m not blaming him, but he—he was such a big player, had already accomplished so much by this age, I always wonder if I’ll ever live up to his legacy. I start to wonder if people think I’m already a bust.”

“I never thought about it that way.”

Ugh, Leif was being done in by Tanner’s big, earnest eyes and he had to clear his throat. He never talked about this stuff but it was like he suddenly couldn’tstop.

“But I’m not sure that’s it exactly. I wondered if it was, I don’t know, the fact that I have this life outside of hockey too. With my modeling. Or that there aren’t—well, there aren’t a lot of queer guys in the room.”