Is this the time when I correct him on gender? I shake my head, more in answer to Horny’s question than my own. Instead of correcting it, I keep myself neutral. “Not yet. Maybe next time we play.”
Horny frowns while the other three snicker. “Isn’t this our last game against each other for the season?” Horny asks.
I take a drink of my water with a wide smile. “Yes.” He glowers at me, making me laugh. “Maybe after the season ends. It’s only been a month. A lot can happen in that time so… I don’t want to put too much pressure on something so new.”
“That’s cool, Jules,” Etna says. He grips my forearm loosely. “Can’t wait to meet her.”
Her. She. I feel incredibly dishonest right now. But I don’t want a conversation revolving around sexuality at this very moment. I’m comfortable with my sexuality and have been my entire life, even having not shared it with anyone else. I don’t need an outside person’s approval, especially if that conversation went nowhere and I ended up marrying a woman. Arush being a man startled me and honestly, I felt really fucking stupid for having missed the fact that I misread male. I was never upset that he’s a man, though.
However, being bisexual isn’t something I’ve broadcast to the world. For that matter, neither is being asexual, though I do make it obvious for those who recognize the colors on my wrist. I’m not sure I want to share that at the moment. Not even with my closest friends.
So I don’t. The conversation moves on and my admission is absorbed into the evening. Each minute ticking by is a minute closer to going home to Arush.
It’s going to be a long night.
CHAPTER 14
ARUSH
The final buzzersounds and I’m left staring at the screen, sitting at the edge of the couch cushion and hugging a throw pillow to my chest. I think my mouth hangs open slightly. That was…
“Ouch,” Anil says.
I nod, even though he can’t see me. They’re watching Julian’s game via video chat with me again. The game we just witnessed was… rough. They lost 5-0 against L.A.
We continue to stare at the screen as the narrators replay clips. L.A.’s goalie was on fire tonight. They didn’t let in a single goal. I’m not sure if it’s because Chicago was seriously not with it or if the goalie is just that good. As a novice hockey watcher, I’m not sure I know enough to tell the difference yet.
It wasn’t a particularly rough game. There have been some games when it feels like it’s just fight after fight. This wasn’t the problem tonight.
“You think he’s going to be upset when he gets home?” Jash asks.
Anil and Alok woke up early to watch the game with me. Jash tuned in twenty minutes ago and is holding his little baby Ravi as he watches.
I shake my head again, though they still can’t see me. “I’m sure he’s not going to be celebrating,” I say. “But he’s never seemed overly down about losing.”
“So I looked up hockey in the US and while I’m not entirely sure what all the stats I’m reading mean, it doesn’t look like Chicago has been that great a team over the last handful of years. Maybe he’s used to losing,” Alok says.
“Maybe he’s resigned to losing,” Anil adds.
I nod because, yeah. Maybe.
“The team stats also show that Julian is leading the team in goals, so that’s something,” Alok says. “Assuming I understood what I read and IthinkI did.”
We continue to watch the recaps. The people in charge of commentating keep showing goal attempts against L.A. I’m not sure if they’re showing how good that goalie was tonight or that our team truly tried. There were something like fifty-eight attempts by Chicago.
As I think about that, I can’t imagine being a goalie and having a hard little disk shot at me fifty-eight times. I’d be covered with bruises. Then again, it looks like he’s wearing as much padding as he weighs. I bet I wouldn’t recognize these goalies at all once they shed the hard exoskeleton of goalie pads.
When we first watched hockey together and were commenting on the goalie pads, it was in awe of how they managed to move. And also maybe with a little laughter because they look like parade floats with how big they are in those things.
Over a month later and I’m just in awe that they’re able to move so effortlessly. So quickly. They have to be the quickest players on the ice.
The recap finally stops showing all the failed Chicago attempts at goal and moves to look at the three guys who narrated the game as they talk about it further. I turn the volume down and then shift on the couch to turn the laptop toward me.
I think my friends look as stunned by the performance as I am. It’s not the first time we saw Chicago lose after having scored no goals. In both games against Colorado in the last couple weeks, they lost without getting a goal on the board.
When I asked Julian about it, he rolled his eyes and said that’s been a pretty regular occurrence this season. He doubted it’d be the last. He wasn’t wrong. Losing always sucks, right? But losing having not managed a single goal? I can imagine how defeating that feels.
I’m not even playing the game and I feel defeated. As if their loss is personal. Maybe that’s what it feels like when you’re… seeing someone on the team. Is that what we’re doing? We’re seeing each other, right? Can I call him my partner?
