Page 51 of Delay of Game
“She is, and it’s great. But she’s brilliant, Reedsy. She was in marketing before this, and she’s brilliant at what she does, really. An entire fucking career on haiku and stick figures, and people eat it up.”
“I guess it’s kinda admirable,” Zach said doubtfully. “But I’m glad you’re happy. If anyone deserves it, it’s you.”
“Thanks, buddy,” Jammer said, and smiled for real this time.
Across the street, someone stopped and took a picture of them with a cell phone, and Zach sighed. Somehow, even though he’d lived here almost his entire life, he had almost forgotten how weird it was being a hockey player in Canada. Philly was a hockey town, but no one approached them for pictures or bothered them about it the same way they did back at home.
Jammer was saying, “So how’ve you been, bud? Haven’t heard from you much recently.”
Zach took another gulp of his espresso and burned the roof of his mouth this time. He ignored Jammer’s disapproving glance and said, “Uh...good. Busy. Good.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Uh, it’s just been a weird couple months, you know?”
Jammer groaned, and said, “Oh, Jesus, tell me you didn’t.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really?”
Zach didn’t answer, because he’d already been figured out. They walked in silence for a little while. It really was a beautiful city, and he was again struck by memories as he walked. The place he used to get bagels, a restaurant he and Jammer used to go to all the time when they were treating themselves, the bar whose bathroom he’d done a line in for the first time the summer before his rookie season started, one of the parks he’d thrown up in after they’d won the Cup.
“I don’t wanna pry, but I also just wanna make sure you’re not getting into something you’re not prepared for. I’ve been really proud of how you’ve gotten your shit together in Philly, you know?”
Zach snorted and took another stubborn gulp of espresso. “Thanks, Mom. But it’s notlikethat.”
“So how is it?”
Zach thought about it for a minute and said, slowly, “It’s kind of like... I dunno. How do you know when you’re, like, dating someone?”
Jammer’s eyes went a little wider. “You don’t know?”
“I’ve never...really dated anyone before, so...no?”
He’d had girlfriends, kind of, in high school. Girls he’d been fucking who’d gotten excited about making things official but, after he gave in, quickly got tired of the fact that he was always busy with hockey, and probably also that he’d had the emotional maturity of a potato. Nothing that had lasted more than a couple of weeks.
He’d almost had a boyfriend, once, but Dylan had understandably not hung around long after it became clear that hockey was always going to come first and there was no chance that Zach was going to be public about that before the draft. Or even probably any time after it. And there had been Alison, last year, but that had been a concentrated attempt to stop thinking about his romantically unavailable best friend all of the goddamn time. He felt kind of bad about those last two, really. Neither Dylan nor Alison had really deserved the way he had treated them.
Still, pretty much anyone Zach had ever dated had eventually realized there wasn’t a whole lot going on in his head besides hockey, or that he was an idiot, and that was usually the end of things. He’d never really wanted anything more than that, so it hadn’t hurt his feelings too much when it had happened. It was inevitable: people loved Zach when they first met him, but then they realized that he wasn’t what they wanted, that there wasn’t much beyond the surface. It was fine, that was just how things were. But also, he felt like his pool of experience had made things kind of muddy.
“Oh,buddy. I mean...you know. Are you going out on dates? Are things exclusive? Have you talked about it?”
“I think it’s kinda dating, though? Maybe it didn’t start like that and yeah, we always spent a shitload of time together, but I’m pretty sure there’s...not anyone else. And he took me out to dinner. Itfeltlike a date. Like, sharing food, knees touching and shit. It felt...kind of romantic, bro. And he got bowls for my fucking dogs so I don’t have to leave them at home when I stay over.”
Jammer glanced sideways at him. His eyes were annoyingly kind. “I just wanna make sure you know what you’re doing, Zachary.”
“Of course I know what I’m doing,” Zach lied.
“Uh-huh.”
“I mean, what could go wrong? Like, each year I’ve been here we’ve been playing better but we’re on fucking fire right now, different than any other year, and the only thing that’s really different is sex. Oh my god, Jams, what if my dick was the only thing we needed to win the Cup this entire time?”
Instead of answering the question directly, Jammer patted him on the back, a little condescendingly, and said, “That’s a nice scarf, Zachary.”
Zach glared at him. “You don’t have any faith in me, but I’m gonna surprise you.”
“I have a lot of faith in you. That’s partially why I’m kinda worried about this.”