Hockey Is My Boyfriend: Part Two by Melanie Ting Page B

didn’t go to art camp instead of hockey camp.
    “You wouldn’t get it,” he said, without even looking up from his drawing.
    “Try me.”
    “There was this one camp: computer animation. I would totally give anything to go to that camp. But here I am instead.”
    “Why didn’t you tell your parents you wanted to go there?”
    “It’s my dad, he’s a former NHL player. For the Sabres. I have two older sisters, and I’m the one who is supposed to follow in his footsteps and be a big time hockey player. My mom and sisters love hockey too. I’m the only one who’s into computers and art.”
    “Wow, that’s so weird. We should totally swap families. My mom is a ceramic artist, my brother is a computer geek who invents stuff, and my dad is a florist. Nobody in my family even watches hockey, they all love the arts.”
    Max stared at me like I was kidding him.
    “Really? Your family sounds awesome.”
    I guessed my family was awesome in one way, instead of discouraging me because I liked something they didn’t understand, they had let me play hockey, paid the fees, and bought the equipment I needed. Poor Max. The thing was, I saw him play yesterday, and he was a really good hockey player. The knock on him would be a lack of intensity, but no wonder if his heart wasn’t in it. Trudy had mentioned he was one of the few kids who was staying for two weeks instead of one.
    “You know, you can come here anytime you want. Let me know, and I’ll open up the room for you. Maybe I can even negotiate some time for you on Coach Iverson’s computer.”
    “Really?” His little face was glowing. He had a happier expression than when I saw him go end to end and score a glorious goal top shelf. “You’re so nice.”
    I smiled back. It was so easy to make little boys happy. Come to think of it, it was equally easy to make big boys happy.

15

Photogenic
    M y week was pretty uneventful . There hadn’t been any more free time on the schedule, so Jimmy and I hadn’t had any more “dates.” But we were the talk of the camp, with lots of giggling when Jimmy draped an arm around me during movie night or when he walked me up to the cabin and kissed me goodnight. I found it all a little embarrassing until I finally decided to roll with it. Jimmy was so happy, and it was contagious. And it seemed like everyone else was happy for us; Trudy had beamed at me, and Loreal was ecstatic.
    On Thursday, I got called out of dryland training with the younger kids for a phone call. I was thinking the worst, so when I heard April’s voice on the office phone instead of my dad’s, I was relieved.
    “April, are you here or something?”
    “No, I’m still in Vancouver. There’s this miracle called long distance. Speaking of which, do you ever have your cellphone on?”
    “I forget. Nobody ever calls me here. Is everything okay?”
    “Fine. Well, sort of. Listen, I found out something you should know. I don’t know exactly what to do about it or if we can do anything at all.”
    “What is it?”
    “I don’t know if you know, but there are these on-line discussion boards where people speculate on the love lives of hockey players, especially cute young guys.”
    “They need to get a life.”
    “Yeah, probs, but here’s the thing. Do you know a hockey player named James Frechette?”
    “Yessss.” My stomach dropped to the floor.
    “Okay, I can hear in your voice that something’s up, but maybe you can’t talk there.”
    “That’s correct.”
    “Anyway, there are photos of you and him on one of these sites. They’re kind of… graphic. At first I thought they might be photoshopped, but it sounds to me like they could be real.”
    “That’s correct.”
    “Having quite the summer?” That April could be funny at a time like this was a bit of a relief. “Anyway, I’m sending you the website in an email. You need to get to a computer and check things out. You need to get these down. Like yesterday.”
    “April, who else knows