December 23rd
The suite is filled with an almost fake cheer the next afternoon.
Almost.
The underlying rage, protectiveness, and love are simmering to a boil, though, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed that.
One of the only things Lex told me before having coffee this morning was that he wants to talk about literally anything else today, that he doesn’t want his team to taint any other part of his life, and I made sure everyone else knew it.
Vinny wanted to demand answers from me, I could tell, but thankfully he was in a hurry since he had a light morning skate to get to.
I don’t know how much Lex has told him about us, all I know is that Vinny’s on board with my social media scheme.
So when I told him this morning that Lex needed today to be about family, I did understand the complicated ocean of emotions that passed over his face—like a tsunami.
Now, though, he’s near his goalie’s crease, chatting with his teammates while they all stretch during warmups or do complicated stick-handling rituals.
The suite Dad got for today’s game is on the opposite side of the owner’s box, where we normally watch from, but it’s pretty similar. Sure, it’s smaller, and has fewer amenities, and this one is full of people.
Being a whole arena away from Jim Barclay means that I went all out with the eyeliner, my dual-chrome shimmering eyeshadow,andhave my favorite skirt on—a knee-length bright-blue silk one that shifts softly against my legs and made Lex stare extra hard before Silas distracted him.
I still catch him looking at my legs when I sit down next to him on the club chairs, and I freaking love the electric buzz that a simple look from him can give me.
In the past it’s always gone hand in hand with dread, but now I can only be happy about it, about feeling this way, about beingallowedto feel this way.
I even forget for a while before the game starts that the rest of the world isn’t aware that I’m in love with him. For a little while it feels like we’re simply two guys in love watching a hockey game.
We are not Eli Ellsworth, heir to the Ellsworth empire, and Alexei Jankowski, youngest prodigy of the Jankowski family. I have to believe that there’s a chance, arealchance, that we can eventually be just that. Someday, no one will care if they catch Lex looking at my legs, or if someone sees us walking hand in hand down a random street in Manhattan. Someday all of the things that are wrong right now will be resolved and we’ll be able to be just two guys in love.
Today is not that day, though.
Today we are Eli and Lex, technically stepbrothers and officially best friends, watching a hockey game, watching a legendary team decimate the forever delusionally hopeful New York Demons.
And that has to be enough.
As the game begins, Ruko, Paul, Silas, and Lex go mute next to me, and I resign myself to adding “learn everything about hockey and the NHL” to my never-ending to-do list. It’s something that I should admittedly have done a long time ago, probably around the time that my father married the mother of two hockey prodigies, who, even before they hit their teens, the media was projecting to be the greatest players of their generation. I’ve been kind of busy, though, but I still feel shitty about the fact that I don’t know nearly enough to have a thorough conversation about it with Lex.
One thing I do know is that Vinny’s team, the Las Vegas Pirates, is freaking good. I understand what the word dynasty means when speaking about professional sports.
As the game goes on, that becomes pretty apparent. Being up five goals before the third period even begins means that the fans are angry and looking for blood, and the New York players are getting sloppy and desperate. This actually works even more in Las Vegas’s favor. Vinny puts up his third goal during the third period, and I know that means he got a hat trick, and that it’s impressive.
Honestly, to me, getting even one goal is pretty impressive, but I guess that’s kind of expected? In any case, play has to be stopped for about five minutes, because even in New York, so many people throw their hats on the ice, and it takes a long time to clean everything up for them to finally finish the game.
The only thing I can focus on, though, is the fact that once Lex finally sits back down after screaming his celebration for almost those five minutes straight, he throws his arm over the back of my chair, casual as ever.
It feels like potential.
It feels like a possibility.
And though I know I’m probably only kidding myself, miraculously, it also feels likeprobability.
Eventually, we will be together.
December 24th
With Lottie and her husband Colin having gotten to the house just half an hour after we did yesterday, the holiday celebrations began before dinner. The team she coaches—the Chicago Deep—won their game yesterday just like Vinny, so everyone’s in good spirits. And because Lex made a decree that no one is allowed to feel sorry for him, no one backs down from expressing their happiness while we—“the kids”—make a mess of the Christmas tree.
It’s more fun than it has any right to be, and for the first time ever, I feel like I’m actually part of their family.
