Quite Contrary

Author's Note:Ok, so I lied. It turns out this story is going to be six parts rather than just five. A number of you wanted to see more about Mary's family, and I decided you were right and added a scene. I didn't want to give short shrift to any of the other scenes I had planned, so you're getting an extra chapter. I had a lot of fun wandering down memory lane to my college years for this one, and I tried my utmost to capture the absolute madness that is a Cornell men's hockey game on home ice. Both the campus locations and the... let's say eccentric traditions mentioned in that part of this chapter are completely real, as is my beloved Big Red Pep Band. I'll give one definition up here for those less familiar with hockey lingo: the 'sieve' is the opposing team's goaltender.

***

***

Quite Contrary - Part 5

Quite Contrary - Part 5

"Graves! You got bird bones? I've seen better hits in pee-wee."

Tyler flipped Jamie off and skated back to the bench.

Jamie gritted his teeth, grateful that Erik Lundberg had nearly recovered from his pulled hamstring and Tyler would soon be sent back down to Providence where he belonged. It had been nearly two weeks since the ugly Christmas sweater party, but Jamie still held a grudge against him for his comments about Mary and most certainly would not be sorry to see him go.

As he skated to his position for the next repetition of the drill the team was running, Jamie noticed Niko sitting in the stands and watching with interest. It was the first practice he'd been to since his concussion and he still had about a week to go before he'd be allowed to play again. Jamie smiled and gave him a quick wave before returning his focus to the drill.

When Coach Hanson dismissed the team about twenty minutes later, Jamie skated over to the area closest to where Niko was sitting.

"Hey, man!" he greeted the centerman. "How're you feeling?"

Niko shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Alright, I guess. Still having some issues, but I'm on the mend. You surviving with Graves up from Providence? I know you hate his guts."

"That's... a strong way of phrasing things," Jamie replied, not denying it.

Niko chuckled. "Team looked good out there in any case. I'm looking forward to coming back whenever they clear me. You up for a coffee? My treat."

"Sure, man," Jamie agreed. "That sounds great. Let me just grab a quick shower and then I'll meet you out in front of the locker room."

Niko nodded. "Sounds good."

Once Jamie determined that he was sufficiently clean, he met up with Niko and the two walked the few blocks to the nearest Dunkin' Donuts. Jamie was a New Englander through and through, and sipping a black iced coffee from Dunks even in the middle of winter was one of his favorite simple pleasures in life.

Niko grabbed their orders and led Jamie over to a table tucked into a corner of the shop. He seemed to want some privacy, which piqued Jamie's curiosity. Niko sipped his latte for a while, gazing thoughtfully out the window, before finally turning to his companion.

"So how was your Christmas? You said you brought Mary to meet your family."

"It was good, thanks," Jamie replied. "She really liked my hometown and my parents love her. Oh, and my sister's expecting."

Niko smiled broadly. "That's great, congrats! It's her first, right?"

"Mhm," Jamie confirmed. "My parents are over the moon about it."

"Yeah, I bet they are. Mine have been dropping some not-so-subtle hints that they want grandkids since I turned twenty-eight last April."

"That sounds annoying."

Niko shrugged. "Yeah, kind of. I do want kids someday, but, y'know... other stuff has to happen first. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."

Jamie raised an eyebrow but kept silent, waiting for his friend to continue.

"I, um... I met someone. In the hospital, when they took me to get checked out for the concussion. Physician's assistant."

Jamie beamed at the news. "That's great! Good for you, man."

Niko gave a small smile. "Thanks, Mack."

Sensing there was more to the story, Jamie decided to dig a bit. "This someone have a name?" he asked.

Niko met his eyes, his own awash with both nervousness and determination.

"Patrick."

Jamie nodded, feeling the puzzle pieces click into place in his mind. He'd suspected something after the conversation he'd had with Niko at Mika's party, but he figured Niko would talk about it when he was ready to. It appeared that time had come.

"I'm really happy for you," he told his friend.

"That means a lot to me," Niko replied.

"Have you, uh... have you told anyone else?"

Niko shook his head. "Not really. The only person I've talked to is Mary's friend Ash, but I didn't tell her about Patrick. I just asked her about her experience coming out. Tried to make it seem like I was just curious. Maybe she saw through me, I don't know. You're the first person I've actually told, though."

Jamie was honored that Niko put so much trust in him. He didn't think he had the vocabulary to translate his feelings into words, though, so he just offered a warm smile.

Niko chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully. "I, uh... I don't really know how to talk to people about this. Like my parents."

Jamie furrowed his brow in concern. "You think they'll be upset or something?"

"Nah," Niko assured him. "It's just... I guess different than what they expect. Not in a bad way, but it'll take some mental adjustment."

That made sense to Jamie, and he nodded in understanding.

"Not sure what to say to anyone else, either," Niko continued.

"You know I have your back, man."

Niko sighed. "It's not that simple. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful you're in my corner. I'm not ashamed or anything. It's just... there have only been a few openly gay players in the NHL, and it's a lot of pressure. If I tell people, I feel like everything I do will be scrutinized to death. Not just from homophobes, but also people who want to hold me up as some kind of positive example or something. I don't want to be a punching bag or a mascot. I just want to do my job and play hockey."

"Yeah, I see your point," Jamie conceded.

The two of them sat in silence for a while, just sipping their drinks. They'd been friends for long enough and were close enough that neither felt compelled to fill the void with noise until there was something worthwhile to say.

"You can do things at your own pace, you know," Jamie finally spoke. "Tell people when you want to. I promise I'm not gonna out you or anything."

Niko's smile at that was warm and genuine. "I know, Mack. You're a good friend; good person, too."

Deciding that nothing more needed to be said on the subject, the teammates shifted the conversation to more lighthearted fare, like New Years plans and the Bruins' forthcoming Western Conference road trip.

True to his word, Jamie didn't tell a soul about his discussion with Niko, not even Mary. It wasn't his news to tell. He also didn't think it changed anything, at least insofar as his relationship with Niko was concerned. He was just glad his friend had found someone who made him happy.

New Years came and went, with Jamie and Mary opting to spend a quiet night in together rather than venture out to any noisy parties. This decision had the added benefit of allowing them to celebrate in a more intimate fashion: as the ball descended its spire in Times Square, Mary descended a very different elongated object in Jamie's bed. Ringing in the new year with the woman he adored astride him and riding him like a rodeo cowgirl was infinitely better than any half-drunken rendition of "Auld Lang Syne" in a room full of casual acquaintances could ever be.

The NHL All Star break came upon them in late January, giving Jamie a precious few days to himself. Deciding to make the most of the time, he accompanied Mary to Ithaca, New York to attend the Cornell men's hockey home game against Harvard, their arch rival in the sport. It was clear that Mary was thrilled to be able to share this part of herself with him, though she claimed to object to the circumstances that allowed for it.

"I don't know what shit-for-brains hoser left you off of the All Star team, but it's an absolutely egregious snub," she vehemently insisted as they climbed up the steps to Lynah Rink. "You're one of the best defenders in the league, and that's coming from aHabs fan."

"AbiasedHabs fan," he pointed out, unable to keep the smirk from his lips. "You can't exactly ref the game if you're sleeping with one of the players."

She scowled. "I can be objective!"

"Uh-huh," he teased her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as they waited in the short line for the students manning the doors to check their tickets. "In that case, I think it's objectively an egregious snub that you weren't crowned Miss America. Or Miss Canada, I guess."

She nudged him playfully in response.

As they made their way into the lobby of the arena, Jamie noticed a large trash can placed prominently in the middle of the hall. A single sheet of printer paper was taped to it, a message scrawled across it in black Sharpie: HELP FEED MY CAT - DEPOSIT FISH HERE.

"What the fuck is that about?"

Mary laughed at his reaction before steering him through the double doors into the rink. "You'll see soon enough."

Jamie was immediately hit with a wall of sound, mostly courtesy of the pep band, which appeared to be playing a pre-game show. Fifty or so students clad in red and white striped rugby shirts stood on the arena's wooden benches and blasted away on an assortment of instruments. The rafters of the building were hung with countless red and white banners, each proclaiming a different year during which Cornell had won its league championship or made an appearance in the NCAA tournament. Jamie noticed two jerseys hung high in the center belonging to Ken Dryden and Joe Nieuwendyk, whose numbers he assumed the university had retired.

Mary led him down through section B of the arena to seats in the fifth row. They appeared to be in the middle of the student section, surrounded by undergrads clad in Cornell jerseys and all manner of red garb chatting animatedly amongst themselves as the band played Weezer's "Buddy Holly."

"My friend Gracie is letting us use her season tickets since she's crashing on a term project tonight," Mary explained, grey eyes twinkling. "So you're getting the full student section experience. Does mean we'll be standing on the benches the whole time, though."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "It's just how the student section rolls, I guess. I never really questioned it when I was an undergrad. This whole side of the rink is students, then the rest is townies and whoever else buys tickets. And thenthatsection over there," she gestured to the area immediately across the rink from where the pep band was, "is section O. It's where the opposing team's fans sit."

He raised an eyebrow. "Does that matter?"

"Just thought I'd give you a heads up so you aren't confused if and when people start chanting 'section O sucks' during the game."

Jamie couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Sounds like a super passionate fan base here."

"Oh, you have no idea," Mary chuckled. "People get particularly rabid around the Harvard game, too, so brace yourself."

As the clock on the scoreboard ticked down toward the start of the game, the arena filled up until Jamie was sure it was beyond capacity and potentially breaking some kind of fire code. The entire side of the stands where they sat stood up, clambering on top of the wooden benches, and he did likewise. He could practically feel the excitement and anticipation tingling in the air like an electrical charge and noticed that the grin on Mary's face was growing ever wider.

When the clock hit zero, the arena erupted. The pep band jubilantly played Cornell's fight song as the team skated out onto the ice, the crowd exploding into a cacophony of cheers.

Suddenly, something cold and slimy hit Jamie in the shoulder. Confused, he looked down to his feet where it had fallen.

It was a fish.

What the actual fuck?

Laughing, Mary bent down to pick it up and lobbed it over the glass and onto the side of the rink where Harvard's players were skating warmup laps and dodging the dozens of other fish, squid, and assorted seafood landing at their feet.

"Uh, Mary...?" Jamie began before being cut off by the pep band switching to a melancholy tune. It was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.

"That's the theme song fromLove Story," Mary explained, doubtlessly noticing the confusion on Jamie's face. "It's this movie from the seventies about a Harvard hockey player who falls in love with this girl named Jenny. Highlights are that Cornell beats them and Jenny dies at the end. We know the Harvard hockey program makes all the players watch it, so the pep band likes to remind them how that story goes whenever we play them."

He blinked. "That's... specific. Clever, though. Also, what's with the fish?" he asked as the rink crew cleaned the slimy remains from the ice.

"Just a tradition," she laughed. "Sometime in the seventies, a Harvard fan threw a dead chicken at our goalie, I guess to make fun of Cornell being out in farmland. So the next game, our fans threw fish at them. Been doing it ever since. We're really not supposed to, hence that trashcan when we came in, but people do it anyway and sneak the fish in however they can. I knew one guy who shaved his leg so he could duct-tape a full haddock to it under his pants."

Jamie chuckled. "Gotta admire that dedication."

Once the ice was clear, the announcer listed off Harvard's starting line-up while the Cornell fans held up newspapers, rustling them and chanting "BORING" at the top of their collective lungs. Jamie remembered that particular quirk from the few games he'd played against Cornell in Madison Square Garden while he was at BU and wondered for the first time whether Mary had ever attended one of them. The idea of her shaking a newspaper dismissively while his name was announced only to wind up dating him years later tickled him, and he chuckled.

Mary read his mind. "I guess I 'boring-ed' over your name at least once during Red Hot Hockey," she mused. "Sorry, babe."

"I think I can find it in my heart of hearts to forgive you," he teased her, earning a flirtatious grin as she looked him up and down.

"You look super sexy in that toque, you know," she murmured, glancing approvingly at the knit Cornell hat he'd donned.

He smirked. "You're lucky I hang around with enough Canadians to know what 'toque' even means."

As the announcer gleefully proclaimed the Cornell Big Red's starting lineup to deafening cheers and music, Jamie spared a brief thought for what Mary had just said. She hadn't asked him to wear anything in support of her team; he'd done that on his own out of love for her... and, to be honest, the possibility that it would be a turn-on for her. While he was happy that had evidently worked, a small part of him was sad that she'd never shown the same kind of support at any of his games.

He quickly dismissed that train of thought, however, knowing it wasn't really the same situation. The Bruins-Habs rivalry went so absurdly deep that literal fist fights had broken out over it, both on and off the ice. He'd sooner get a Yankees fan to wear a Red Sox hat or a Michigan fan to wear an Ohio State jersey. Mary showed up and cheered for him, and that was support enough. She didn't have to wear anything special.

The excitement in the rink was palpable as the game began. At the first stoppage of play, the pep band struck up a short tune, swinging their horns back and forth with each note:

Da, da, da, daaaa-da

Da, da, da, daaaa-da

Da, da, da, daaaa-da

DA DA DA

"SCREW BU! HARVARD, TOO!"

Jamie burst into laughter as they repeated the pattern and the entire crowd joined in on the chant.

"Oh yeah," Mary chuckled as play resumed. "I forgot about that one. Should've given you a heads up."

"They do that even when they're not playing BU?"

"Mhm. Goes back to when they were in the same conference and had a rivalry."

He shook his head in amusement. "You guys sure hold grudges. That was decades ago."

"Nah," she replied. "Less grudges and more weird traditions. It's part of our charm."

He couldn't argue with that, at least as far as Mary specifically was concerned. As the first period went on, he found himself torn between watching the game and watchingherwatching the game. She lit up with every play, joining along in the chants and cheers of the crowd, and the unfiltered joy emanating from her was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen.

When Cornell scored its first goal, her scream nearly ruptured his eardrum. The crowd sang along with the pep band in a thunderous rendition of the university's fight song before absolutely tearing into Harvard's goalie:

"ONE! We want more! Sieve, sieve, sieve, sieve, sieve, sieve, SIEVE! It's all your fault! It's all your fault! It's all your fault! It's all your fault!"

This was followed by more cheers and a round of high-fives.

Jamie was beginning to understand why opposing teams dreaded playing at Lynah. That perception was further confirmed five minutes later when a student in section A began a call-and-response chant:

"Give me an H!"

"H!" the crowd roared back.

"Give me an I!"

"I!"

"Give me a G!"

"G!"

Jamie realized they were spelling out the name Higgins, the surname of Harvard's goaltender, and wondered where they were going with the chant.

"Give me another G!" the first student continued.

"G!"

"Give me an I!"

"I!"

"Give me an N!"

"N!"

Give me an S!"

"S!"

"What's that spell?"

"SIEVE!" the crowd roared, pointing at the hapless goalie.

"What's that spell?"

"SIEVE!"

"WHAT'S THAT SPELL?"

"SIEVE!"

"You guys are ruthless," Jamie chuckled as the crowd continued chanting "sieve" for a while, followed by a deafening chorus of 'let's go Red'.

Mary shrugged. "The rest of the conference is used to it. Besides, I'd assume the players mostly tune it out. Am I wrong about that?"

"Fair enough," he acknowledged before sending a small grin her way. "It's kind of fun to see you this feral. Reminds me of the night we met, but turned up to eleven."

"Good to know I'm not scaring you away," she laughed.

"I don't think there's anything you could do that would scare me away. You're pretty much stuck with me now."

She gave a mock gasp. "Oh, the horror! Whatever shall I do?"

He pretended to think about it. "Surrender to my natural charms, I guess?"

"Guess that's my only option," she replied with a cheeky wink.

Fuck, she's adorable, he thought to himself, a big, dopey grin spreading across his face.I love her so much.

The score remained one to zero as the first period ended and the student section finally sat down on the benches. Members of the pep band shuffled through the music in their folders to pull up specific pieces the conductor called out. Jamie noticed one of the trombone players gazing at him with curiosity before whispering to the girl next to him.

"I think that guy recognizes me," he commented quietly to Mary.

"That makes sense," she replied. "If anyone here would know who you are, it would probably be someone in the pep band. Some of them live and breathe hockey."

The corner of his lips quirked up. "Sounds like my kind of crowd."

"Just let me know if you need me to shield you from mobs of adoring fans," she joked, grey eyes dancing with mirth. "I may not be all that big, but I fight dirty."

He snorted. "I'm sure it won't come to that. Although..." he trailed off before leaning in to whisper in her ear. "I wouldn't mind seeing in private later just how dirty you can, uh...fight."