We’re at one of our favorite burger joints not too far from The Bar. Normally I’d eat a quick lunch with Niko on game days, but he’s got family in town right now. Because it’s a Thursday I was hoping I could actually have lunch with Ellie—not that I’d tell Nate he was my second choice. Turns out she’s covering for someone at the hospital today.
“I don’t think she meant for the key to be a sign of any significance really, if I had to guess, but I do hope it’s getting more serious, yeah. She still seems to want to keep it under wraps though, and she turned down my offer of tickets to a game.”
Nate hums at that and takes a sip of his drink. “Did she say why? Maybe she was just busy.”
I wince a bit at the reminder of the text conversation, still not entirely sure how to interpret it. I grab my phone and find the texts, sliding it over to Nate across from me so he can see for himself.
Yesterday 1:16PM
Matt
Could I convince you to come watch a game sometime soon?
Confidential Fuck Buddy
and blow our cover? I think not
Matt
No one has to know I got you the tickets ;)
Confidential Fuck Buddy
ah, sure sure. thanks for the offer, but I’m not so into the crowds and all that. more of a “watch from the comfort of my cozy couch” gal. when’s your next game?
Matt
What a lucky couch. I’ve got a game tomorrow night at 7pm.
Confidential Fuck Buddy
drat. I’m covering a shift at the hospital. you could break in your new hardware though…
Matt
Say less
“Confidential Fu— Never mind, I don’t want to know.” Nate passes my phone back and leans forward with his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his hands. “Huh. Maybe she gets claustrophobic? Or she might just not like hockey, man. Or sports? That could be rough,” he says with a slight grimace. At whatever face I make he quickly continues. “Orrr it could be perfect. You need a life outside of hockey, right?”
I never told Nate about Ellie’s reaction when I asked if her ex had played hockey. I’ve tried to mostly forget about it myself. But I can’t help wondering why she reacted that way and if she has something against hockey specifically. Or doesn’t like sports, maybe, like Nate said. She hasn’t made any other notable comments. She also hasn’t asked much about it though.
IknowI could just ask her, but I think I’m afraid of what the answer might be. What if wherever her dislike comes from isbig enough that it keeps her from wanting more with me? We’ve been hanging out andpracticingand it just feels so right. I don’t want to mess it up. I guess a large part of me is also hoping that whatever it is, I’m convincing her that hockey or athletes or being in the spotlight is okay. That it’s possible for us to have a relationship, no matter what the hangups are.
“Yeah, I guess,” I sigh.
“Speaking of hockey. You’re closing in on a thousand assists—your parents swinging through soon?”
I nod. “End of the month. I didn’t think I could hit it before then.”
“I’m sure if you got close they’d make it out sooner. I’m excited to join them for some games, haven’t seen them in a bit.” He pauses. Smiles. “You gonna introduce them to Ellie?”
“I want to, yeah. I’m nervous to ask though. And I feel like a game would have been the perfect time for a casual first meeting. But based on that conversation, I’m guessing she wouldn’t want that.”
Nate hums and starts cleaning our table—a habit he can’t seem to shake from working the bar so often. “Well, for what it’s worth, I really do think it’s okay that she doesn’t seem interested in hockey, man. I mean, imagine the opposite. That could be a hella big red flag, I think. And Shirley and Peter are super chill. Any type of meeting will go great if she’s up for it.”
I palm the key again and think about what he said. I do think my parents will be great around Ellie no matter where it happens. I just hope she’ll want to meet them. And while I agree it’s okay if she doesn’t like hockey, selfishly I do wish she could be at my games. Her support as we get closer to making (or not making) the playoffs sounds…better than having anyone else’s, honestly. But maybe that will come with time.
Nate starts to grab at my plate and I shoo him away, collecting my trash with my free hand before he tries again.
