“I’ve never thought about that,” Etna concedes.
“You wouldn’t,” Hilt says. “Because it’s not something you face as a straight man.”
“Just as it’s not something you face as a white man,” Keno counters. “I get what Lo’s saying. I’m a minority, so my nationality is constantly attached to me. It’s always commented on in a way a white person’s isn’t. Even though it’s not necessarily a bad thing because visibility is good for all minorities, so they see that we’re here and have a place in sports too. But sometimes, I just want to be a hockey player.”
“And yet, there isn’t a persons of color group calling attention to it like the Gays Can Play,” I comment.
He snorts. “Nope.”
“Well, shit,” Etna mutters.
“Anyway, didn’t mean for this to go down that road,” I say. “But yeah, that’s why I didn’t tell you. It’s not a trust thing. I wanted to keep it from public knowledge as long as I could so any attention on me was for my game. Not my nationality. Not my sexuality. Nothing but my game.”
“Why’d you change your mind?” Hilt asks.
“Because there’s a very good chance we’ll end up on the cover of some trashy tabloid this summer since we’re planning to spend most if not all summer together. We don’t plan to hit the mall holding hands or anything, but we also won’t be hiding, either. Carefully selected adventures where it’s unlikely we’ll be recognized, but it’s not impossible. And… you’re my friends so I wanted you to know from me as opposed to the internet.”
“Thanks, man. That’s cool,” Keno says.
“We support you,” Etna adds.
“I also support you and your straight boy sexuality,” I deadpan, raising a brow.
He laughs. “Yep, I can see how that might get annoying. Sorry. I just meant…” he trails off. “Yeah, okay.”
I smirk. “I appreciate your support. I appreciate that you don’t think differently of me. But I’d rather us just be normal. How we always are. Okay?”
Etna sighs. “Yep. Got it.”
“Good. Want to play some more or are we done here?”
We play for a while longer but eventually, we head in, making guesses on the playoffs. We’re so close to the end of the season with each team only having a game or two left, so the playoffs are already practically decided.
I head for home, calling Caulder on the way.
“Hey, babe,” I greet.
His smile is evident. “Hey. You home yet? I think I hear road noise, so not quite.”
“Correct. Ten minutes. Why?”
“Just checking. How was practice?”
“Good. Messed around on the ice with the guys.” I pause. “I told them about us.”
“You did?”
“Yeah.”
“And they were cool?”
“It seems Hilt suspected a while ago. I guess I got defensive concerning you whenever someone brought up the pregnant girl thing.”
Caulder laughs. “Did you? Jeez. How were you not outed eons ago?”
I huff. “I’ve never loved someone before,” I say defensively. “But to be fair, I thought I had kept most of those feelings to myself.”
“Your poker face isn’t as good as you thought, huh?”
