Shoot Your Shot

Chapter Twenty

Twenty

Lucy

JAYLEN:

LUCY:

JAYLEN:

LUCY:

JAYLEN:

LUCY:

JAYLEN:

LUCY:

Whoever says women take too long getting ready has never met a hockey player. Jaylen’s post-practice shower ran longer than anticipated and now I’m darting across busy streets to the sound of rage-induced honking with Jaylen in tow. We need to hurry up or we’re going to be late for the start of Maya’s charity event.

“Maya and Cooper.” I slowly articulate and enunciate each syllable up to a seemingly unfazed Jaylen.

“Lucy, I got this. I’m not going to forget your best friends’ names. Maya the Bee and Mini Cooper,” Jaylen says.

I stop walking. Grabbing his arm, I pull him back so I can get to the bottom of whatever he thinks he’s doing. “I said no nicknames.” There’s no way I’m going to let him give my friends some weird, impersonal nicknames that he thinks are funny.

We come to a halt as I interrogate him on the sidewalk. I continue to hold up my end of the bargain: following his hockey schedule like a season ticket holder so I can text him good luck. This is part of our agreement. He needs to be on his A-game. These aren’t some professional hockey players he’s facing off against today; they’re my queer besties. If he thought the internet hated him for an own goal, wait until he sees Maya’s reaction when he inevitably forgets her name.

“It’s a trick for remembering names. Maya the Bee like the cartoon and Mini Cooper like the car,” he explains.

At least he’s trying. “Good idea, but it’s Maya like Maya Angelou.”

“You’re right. That’s way better. You’re good at this,” he says. He thinks he’s complimenting my word association skills, but Maya is, in fact, named after Maya Angelou. With no time to explain, I continue to pull Jaylen toward the entrance of the event.

The streets are lined with canopies for local vendors who are getting ready to open up shop to the public. I can already smell the various food trucks parked inside. Sound check for today’s live music is heard from the sidewalk. Rain-or-shine Seattleites are outdoors. Luckily today, the sun peeks through thick, rolling gray clouds. The rays shine down on the slick pavement, enhancing its glare. I use my hand to guard my eyes as I search for my friends.

The streets are already filling up, and I’m anxious to get in and get this official introduction over with. I’m more nervous than I should be, but it feels like I’m about to introduce them to a partner. Only somehow, it’s even worse because we aren’t dating.

The sooner we get this over with, the better. Eventually the hockey season will end and Jaylen will be nothing more than a footnote in the deep lore of my friendship with Maya and Cooper. Like the many who have come before him, someday Jaylen will be referred to as a descriptive yet mildly offensive nickname like Sandals Guy or LARP Girl.

“Love the spirit here. I gotta say you guys really know how to rep your colors,” Jaylen remarks as we pass an assortment of flags and rainbow coloring proudly plastered as far as the eye can see.

It dawns on me that I haven’t told Jaylen what charity this event benefits. All he knew was that he had to show up, and luckily he’s here with a smile on his face. “Yes, the gays are a rather powerful fandom—just don’t say anything negative about boygenius.”

“Never heard of him.” He laughs at himself. I can’t hide my disgust at the confusion. “Kidding. I love Phoebe Bridgers. Sometimes you have to have a good cry in your car on the drive home after a big loss,” he adds shamelessly.

“Lean into that and you’ll do fine here.” I pat him on the back and usher him across the sidewalk.

“Lucy!” Cooper shouts. He’s standing with Maya under a white canopy marked Information near the entrance. Maya is talking into a handheld radio while juggling a worn clipboard in her other hand. We make our way over to them.

“I don’t care if they recently broke up. I’m not moving anyone’s tent. They will have to be civil for one afternoon and work side by side,” Maya shouts into her walkie-talkie.

“I understand, but the vendor is saying her ex took their dog in the breakup and is no longer allowing visitations,” a stressed voice broadcasts from the handheld device for everyone to hear.

Maya pauses momentarily with pursed lips and pinched eyebrows. “Move that son of a bitch next to the porta potties.” She clips the walkie-talkie back on her belt loop. “Lucy!” Her mood flips as she greets me enthusiastically with a hug.

“Everything looks amazing!” I say with my head on a swivel. Maya has been working tirelessly on this Seattle Pride fundraiser for months and it shows.

Cooper loudly clears his throat as he eyes Jaylen up and down.

“Oh, right. Guys, this is Jaylen.” I formally introduce Maya and Cooper, offering Jaylen a lifeline, but apparently he doesn’t need it.

“Maya, it’s great to officially meet you.” He reaches to shake her hand. “And, Cooper, my favorite baristo,” he continues, enthusiastically shaking Cooper’s hand.

Cooper blushes, smitten at the fact that Jaylen remembers his name. A reaction that triggers a hip pop and head shaking from Maya.

“Oh god, was that a pronoun joke?” I groan, annoyed by Jaylen’s over-the-top display of charisma. Cooper shoots me a glare before returning to Jaylen all smiles.

“Such large hands, Jaylen. You know what they say about large hands,” Cooper says, still holding Jaylen’s hand hostage in his grip.

“Big gloves,” Jaylen says.

Cooper laughs, but Maya is not so easily charmed.

“So, Jaylen, what time and place were you born?” Maya fishes for his signs.

“Don’t answer that,” I blurt out. Wikipedia already told me he’s a Capricorn, and I’m trying my best to not let that dictate my feelings toward him.

“Hmm, I’m not sure. I’ll have to ask my mom,” he says politely.

“Lucy, you’re practically glowing. Are you doing anyone? I mean, are you doing anything different to your skin?” Cooper says, with a mischievous grin.

I narrow my eyes at him. “It’s sweat from the run over here,” I say. Cooper is obsessed with my unique friendship with Jaylen, but I’m not going to let his innuendos trip me up today.

“Really? It’s not from a recent facial? Perhaps a new serum you’re using?” Cooper is not letting up, but it’s better than another bust joke.

“Nope, but recently I have been dedicated to self-fulfillment. You know, tending to myself lately.” While Cooper and I go back and forth, Jaylen looks confused.

“Ugh, you guys are gross,” Maya interrupts. “I hate to be rude and break up this stimulating conversation, but I should go do a lap and make sure no other vendors are mid–custody battle.”

“Is there anything I can help you with? I have time before my autograph booth,” Jaylen politely offers to Maya.

I see Cooper out of the corner of my eye winding up to tell Jaylen he needs help with something inappropriate.

Maya slowly lowers her yellow-tinted shades down the bridge of her nose. “You want to help?” she asks in disbelief, looking him up and down.

Most people only ask to help because it’s the polite thing to do, but if there’s one thing I know about Jaylen, it’s that he’s keen to lend a helping hand. It’s both his best and most obnoxious quality.

“Of course. I’ve always been really passionate about…” Jaylen leans to the side to read the large sign hanging above one of the nearby vendor’s tents. “Lesbian farmers,” he says.

“Really? You’re not here to take pictures and sign autographs and feel good about yourself?” Maya presses him, but Jaylen doesn’t crack. She slips her glasses back up her nose with the push of a finger and quickly skims her clipboard, in search, I’m sure, of the most humbling task to assign him.

“I’m here to help out with whatever you need. Is there anything heavy you need lifted or moved?” Jaylen immediately offers up his brawn, pushing up the sleeves of his jacket.

“No. There are a bunch of lesbian farmers here. No offense, but they could sling you into a hayloft with one hand like a minibale.”

“I am not offended because I don’t know what that means,” Jaylen says gleefully.

“Fine. Come with me. I need help hanging vinyl promotional signage, and I could use your height.” Maya pivots on the heels of her worn Blundstone boots and disappears into the sea of vendors. Jaylen quickly follows her like her dutiful student.

I watch as he disappears behind a row of vendor tents. That introduction went better than I expected. He might actually leave here having won over both my friends, a feat few men accomplish. With Maya and Jaylen gone, Cooper and I take time to roam the streets and catch up.

“How are things going with Mr. Rainier?” Cooper coos, playfully leaning into me. We dip into a tent selling fragrant honey soaps.

“I can’t complain. We’ve got a good system going now. All I do is send him a text every now and then and he keeps my bathroom overflowing with tiny luxury hotel shampoos and conditioners that he steals for me when he’s on the road traveling from hotel to hotel.” I sniff a chunk of yellow soap. I purposefully omit the fact that Jaylen let me illegally tattoo him for my portfolio. I don’t need Cooper reading into it—something I have actively been avoiding myself.

I can’t explain what’s going on between Jaylen and me because that would require my own understanding of our situation. When we’re alone together there’s an undeniable connection; we’re not a perfect match, but rather two unique puzzle pieces that effortlessly fit together. It’s familiar with him, like we’re old friends reconnecting, except we’re practically strangers. Jaylen’s the most normal person I’ve ever met—just totally levelheaded. Sometimes I think he might be into me, but sometimes I think he’s a nice guy to everyone.

Cooper huffs and his head tilts to the side. “You expect me to believe that the only thing going on between the two of you is a text chain? Be honest with me, because I totally ship you guys. Team Jacy all the way.”

I roll my eyes as I continue to smell the various chunks of natural soap. Clearly, I’m not in the market for any soap; I have an entire sudsy apothecary in my bathroom at home. I am, however, desperate to avoid this conversation.

“The only ship happening between us is a friend ship. It’s not physical,” I say. Except for the night we met, the time Sailor cockblocked me, and when Jaylen eye-fucked the shit out of me after I tattooed him. Technically we didn’t have sex after the tattoo, but the way he grabbed my wrist was more intimate than some of my actual hookups.

Texting Jaylen is easy, being around him is hard—literally, his biceps are rock-hard. A gust of wind blew Jaylen’s cologne my way on our walk over here and I thought I was going to let out a loud moan. I think I’m scared what happened last time will happen to us again. If it’s not my neurotic cat, then it’ll be some other force of nature telling us we’re wrong for each other.

“Too bad.” Cooper interlocks his arm in mine and leads me out of the tent. We leave empty-handed, making our way to the food trucks for a little treat. Cooper knows me well; talking about my feelings is hard, and I do deserve something sweet.

“Dating Jaylen would complicate things,” I say, leaning into Cooper’s shoulder. “What if I picked the wrong movie or the wrong place to eat and he played bad?”

“Dating straight men is so strange.”

“My career needs my full focus right now. Since being single, things are going good for me.”

Cooper cocks his head back. “You’re unemployed,” he says, serving me a dose of reality I didn’t order. “Speaking of which, are you sure you don’t want to come and work for me again at the café?”

He’s kind for asking, but I need to figure this out on my own. “You and I both know I can’t memorize that many variations of milk alternatives. Besides, I really have to see this tattoo apprenticeship thing through.”

“Good. You’re much better at drawing a latte than making one.”

We stop at the row of food trucks selling beverages. Cooper takes the lead and orders us two hot teas while I continue to spiral into a pit of despair. It’s always a pit of despair; just once I’d like to spiral into a ball pit or something fun.

Jaylen’s playing amazing hockey and I’ve never been so dedicated to finding an apprenticeship. I like how things are with us right now; I don’t want to risk messing it up. That’s what’s so fun about the beginning part when you first meet someone. It’s a free fall, and you can’t yet see the bottom—you can’t yet fathom the damage when you eventually crash-land. I feel faint and brace myself on Cooper’s arm. He grabs our teas from the vendor and leads me out of line.

“You and Jaylen have been talking for a while now and you’ve found a couple possible apprenticeships. It’s time to give him a chance. My therapist says that fear of abandonment or intimacy is the primary cause of self-sabotage,” Cooper says. We secure a bench on the outskirts of the hustle and bustle of the event.

“Your therapist? You mean the part-time spin instructor, part-time life coach you’re fucking?” I snap back playfully.

“Don’t do that.” He waves his finger at me. “We’re focusing on your issues.”

“Jaylen got us tickets to the game next weekend.” I pivot knowing the promise of a few free tickets will distract him from his psychoanalysis.

“About time. I was starting to wonder whose dick I had to suck to get some tickets to a hockey game,” Cooper says loudly as an elderly couple walks past us. Their necks practically snap as they whip their heads around toward Cooper in shock.

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it!” Cooper says to them with a jazz-hand wave. They nod awkwardly and quickly shuffle on their way. “Speaking of dicks to suck, here comes yours. Although it looks like he’s switched teams midseason.” Cooper points up the road into the crowd.

I turn my head to find Jaylen waving me down from across the street. He holds a large sack of unshucked corn and is covered in various flags and rainbow stickers—including one on his chest that reads Sounds Gay, I’m In!

“Where did you get all those stickers? You look like my college laptop,” I ask Jaylen, looking him over.

“This place is awesome. Everyone’s handing out free samples. Someone named Danni even gave me all this free corn. I love it here.” Jaylen proudly lifts the bag in his hands to show off his free produce like it’s a pet fish he won at the carnival. Apparently, no amount of money earned will diminish the thrill of free swag, or free food.

Cooper eventually has to leave to get back to his café, leaving Jaylen and me alone with time to kill before his autograph signing. We eat at a few food trucks and listen to some live music before heading back to meet Maya.

By the time we get to his booth, there’s already a long line of Rainiers fans waiting to get a selfie with the superstar. Cheers ring out as he waves to everyone while taking his spot in front of a Rainiers-branded backdrop. He welcomes the first person in line with a wide smile and handshake.

I stand back near the information booth to stay out of the way. I watch Jaylen pose with fans, not once taking a bad photo, and realize that I’m not the only one who finds him handsome. Jaylen has movie star looks, and while he’s notorious for his brilliant playmaking, by the twentieth fan interaction it’s apparent that it’s also a well-known fact that he’s as handsome as they come.

I watch as he enthusiastically talks to everyone, taking time with each person to make sure they feel seen. He humbly accepts compliments but gives his teammates all the credit. By the end of the day, Jaylen has been personally invited to at least ten different farms for family dinners, two weddings, a bar mitzvah, and a college graduation.

I’m so entranced by Jaylen that I don’t notice Maya slip right next to me. “Turns out lesbians really love hockey.” Maya tugs at her thick knit wool sweater, wrapping it tighter around her body and crossing her arms over her chest. It’s been a long day and her walkie-talkie is still shouting at her. She turns it off.

“I only care about the opinion of one lesbian,” I say.

“Look around.” Maya motions to the crowd of people. “This place is still packed. We had record attendance this year, and we raised three times the amount of money we thought we would today. Thanks for bringing him.”

“That’s amazing, Maya. This is an incredible event. I’m so proud of you.” I lean into her. She wraps her arm around my shoulders, and I tuck my head into the crook of her neck. I can feel the relief release from her body as she lets out a deep sigh. This event has consumed much of her attention and energy for the past few months; she had a lot riding on its success.

“Thank you. And for the record, I think he’s cool,” she says quietly.

Maya might be hard to win over, but she will always give credit where credit is due. Not only did Jaylen follow through on his end of the deal, but he also made a real effort with my friends, and he showed up for our whole community.

I squeeze Maya a bit tighter as we continue to admire Jaylen’s hospitality from a distance like proud lesbian moms.

“He’s just my friend,” I remind her.

“Is that what we’re calling him now?” Maya raises an eyebrow.

“Better than what the media is calling him. ‘The comeback kid.’” I do my best sportscaster impersonation.

“Be warned, your friend over there really likes you.”

“How do you know?” I pull back from Maya, embarrassed by my eagerness to ask and my desperation to know the answer.

“He wrote me a check today for the largest single donation we’ve ever received.” Maya’s tone is serious, and in that moment, I wonder how serious my friendship with Jaylen might be.