We’re leaving a bit early, but we chose to check out this cake place since it’s on the other side of Phoenix, close to the resort. It’s also the middle of the day, so while traffic shouldn’t be too bad, there’s always a bit of traffic congestion to fight through.
Julian’s quiet as we drive. I look at Etna before shifting in my seat so I can look more fully at him. “You okay, Jules?”
He’s staring out the window but turns to look at me when I speak. Julian gives me a smile. “Yeah. Just got… lonely, I guess.”
“You know, you meet people when you leave your house, right? They don’t come to you.”
He rolls his eyes, his smile still lingering. “Yes. I’m aware. I find it’s hard to find real people, though. Like in college, when the girls all knew I was heading for pro, with an agent and scouts checking me out, they all wanted to be trophy girlfriends. The people I meet when I go out now are the same.Oh, you’re a hockey player? Hey.Would they even have looked twice at me otherwise?”
“That’s a fair assessment of the world.”
Julian huffs. “Honestly, I don’t hate being alone. Most of the time, I really enjoy it. My life, my decisions—they’re my own and affect no one but me. I appreciate that more than I’m letting on. Just sometimes… I get tired of the silence.”
“You can hang out any time,” Etna offers.
“Yeah? I have a feeling you’ll take that back eventually.”
“I mean, don’t crawl into bed with us, but yeah, I mean that.”
Julian snorts. “I’ll try to resist.”
“Are you looking for a girlfriend or just want friends when you get lonely?” I ask.
He sighs heavily. “It’s hard to find someone who accepts you and all your quirks, you know?”
I study Julian. If there was someone with quirks, I’d have said me or Horny. Not Julian. I nod anyway.
“For the wrong reasons, sometimes I wish I had a wife.”
“What’re the wrong reasons?” Etna asks.
“People look at me and think, ‘twenty-something year old hockey player with a big bank account. Party animal. Slut. Irresponsible.’”
“People are going to judge you no matter what.”
He gives me an amused look. “You tell them you’re married, or they see a ring on your finger and their reaction changes. Suddenly I’m settling down and responsible.”
“Yeah?” I find that hard to believe.
“When I was a kid, twelve maybe, I was sitting at the table doing homework when my father came home. He told my mom he got the promotion he’d been wanting. He got it over the other guy who should have had it—he was more qualified and whatever. But when he got the promotion, the boss said, ‘Congratulations, Mack. So good to have another good, Christian family man as one of the faces of the company.’ He didn’t get the position because he was qualified. Or even because they saw something in him or believed in his skills or vision. They gave him the job over the other guy, who was happily single and a proud atheist.”
“That’s… fucked up.”
“It happens a lot when there are older people in charge. The guys from older generations. They care more about the look of the company and the message, even subliminal, they’ll present to the world. I already fight a lot of prejudice because of my skin color. On top of that, the damn lady at the grocery store the other day said to me, ‘Oh, you’re young and rich; you’ll get any girl you want if you stop partying.’ Granted, I was buying vodka.” He grins.
“First, I didn’t know that was a thing,” Etna says. “Second, that’s bullshit. She could have at least said you have nice hair.”
Julian laughs.
We pull into the parking lot and Etna turns in his seat once we’re in Park. “On a serious note, it sucks that you have to deal with prejudice.” He glances at me. “I get it in an abstract way. From a distance and not from experience. But you know what? You’re a professional hockey player. Less than 10% of hockey players manage to go pro. Far fewer are minorities. You’re kicking ass and proving to all the sucky people that you’re just as good, if not better, than most hockey players. All based on your talent. A wife doesn’t change that. You proved that before you had a bank account that could walk on its own.”
Julian nods.
“And you’re a good person. People who make judgments on you for any reason other than your words and actions are proving just how much better and bigger a person you are than them.”
“I don’t mean to sound like I have a chip on my shoulder. One of the things I truly love about hockey is how there are literally people from countries all over the world. This isn’t just an American sport with 95% white Americans playing. When I looked last, less than 30% of pro hockey players are American. I love the mix of nationalities, cultures, colors, and inclusion. You don’t find that in many places or in many careers, especially sports. Seriously, I’m just a little lonely right now.”
“I get it,” I say. “We’re glad you’re here. There are very few times when we’d ask for privacy.”
