Chapter Four November #5
It was another layer of tradition that eased them into the holiday—Nick insisting he could help, his mom saying it wasn’t his job since he was technically a guest, the eventual acceptance of Nick cutting or peeling or cleaning since preparing dinner for fifteen wasn’t easy.
They talked, catching up on the minutiae of each other’s lives.
It seemed they only ever got the broad strokes until holidays came up, and then they overwhelmed each other with details to the point where they needed the reprieve the rest of the year provided.
“I don’t know why Aunt Chelsey cares,” Nick said. He didn’t normally get involved with the family gossip, but he knew his mom needed the outlet. “It’s Grandpa’s money.”
“And she wants him to save it so she can inherit it. Like he didn’t earn it himself from decades of hard work. Like managing a farm is easy.” She tsked his absent aunt, the loud sister-in-law who always managed to tick off the family.
“She even gonna get much?”
His mom waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t know, and I don’t like speculating since it means talking about your grandpa dying. Get that water boiling and tell me about your life.”
“Work is still both good and frustrating. I like the challenge, but the coworkers make me want to gouge my eyes out.”
“Nickolas,” she warned.
He obediently changed topics. “Hockey is fun. Got a few more goals since the last time I called, though one was bounced off my head by the other goalie so not exactly highlight reel material.”
“A goal’s a goal’s a goal,” she said absentmindedly.
His dad had said it a million times in defense of ugly goals, and though she’d never shared their love of hockey, she’d picked up the phrase.
For years she’d had the wrong enunciation, something about the way it’d rolled off her tongue made it sound like a foreign phrase she’d learned by rote rather than one she understood. Now it was perfect.
“Yeah, but it’s way more satisfying to go bar down since that’s me doing something right instead of it being a fluke.”
“Oh, I understand, baby. But right place, right time is you doing half the job, isn’t it?”
Nick laughed. “If you say so.”
“I do. Now tell me about this cute boy Terry tells me you’re after.”
“Yikes, was that Dad calling me? Sorry to ditch you in here for a bit, but he probably needs my help setting up the tables—”
“Nickolas Jakob,” she scolded as he backed out of the room. Despite the middle name, there was no bite to it, so he knew he was safe.
For now.
*
Nick (7:18 p.m.)
my dad beat me at air hockey
i play actual ice hockey now and he beat me
i am the laughing stock of my family, the hockey player who cannot hockey
Jensie from Hockey (7:45 p.m.)
I’m the Pens fan who lives a few metro stops from the caps and you think you’ve got it bad?
Nick (7:48 p.m.)
i mean… you chose to live here. i did not choose to lose that tournament
Jensie from Hockey (7:52 p.m.)
I’ll talk to benns about moving you down a line and cutting your minutes. clearly the second line isn’t a good fit for you
Nick (7:55 p.m.)
first of all, fuck you
second of all, hope you’re having a good thanksgiving in what i assume to be the frozen wasteland that is pittsburgh
Jensie from Hockey (7:58 p.m.)
[089734ysdfj.jpg]
[Image description: A picture of Jack Nicholson in the snow and ice, frozen.]
Jensie from Hockey (7:59 p.m.)
actually it’s raining which is like ten times worse
Nick (8:01 p.m.)
ew
“Nick is texting!” his cousin Jess screamed. He winced at how high her voice could go, and then winced again when her sister’s delighted shriek echoed through the basement where the cousins were hiding from the “grown-ups” upstairs.
Nick loved his family, he really did, but sometimes they could be overwhelming.
It didn’t help that he and his cousin Sean were outnumbered by the sheer number of women across four generations who were present today.
There were more men in their family somewhere in existence, but most had moved too far out to make the trip for Thanksgiving.
That meant a lot of giggling and gossip, especially now that—
“Yoink!” Mykala said as she grabbed the phone from Nick and tossed it to Jess. The sisters looked ready to play a game of keep-away, unaware that Nick wasn’t interested in fighting them for it.
He’d grown up with them, after all. He might be a runner, but they were quick and sneaky, and he’d never been good at catching them. They’d destroy this whole basement before they admitted defeat. Since Nick would likely be the one cleaning up after the rampage, he’d rather avoid it altogether.
“You have a passcode now?” Jess looked completely scandalized. “You don’t trust us?”
“I mean, you did just steal my phone…?”
“Jenna, could you unlock this?”
“1974,” she said with disinterest, too wrapped up in her game of chess with Sean. While she enjoyed her fair share of gossip, Nick’s business wasn’t exactly gossip to her like it was to the rest of them. “Year the Caps were founded. He’s probably just texting that guy from hockey.”
“Jensie from Hockey,” the sisters read in unison once they’d unlocked the phone. “Is he cute?”
“You guys are super creepy when you do that,” Nick said.
“He’s very cute,” Jenna said. “Hot, even.”
“You’re just talking about hockey,” Mykala said, wrinkling her nose in distaste.
“And the weather,” Jess added with disdain. “How are we even related if this is how you flirt?”
“It’s not— I’m not— I—” Nick sputtered.
“The guy might be straight,” Jenna clarified.
“Ohhh,” they said with mutual disappointment.
“We could find out for you,” Jess offered.
“Wouldn’t take much,” Mykala added with a wicked smile.
The hair on the back of his neck prickled. Oh no.
“You don’t have to—” He started to dive for his phone; the whole scenario vividly took him back to the tenth grade when they started Facebook messaging one of his cute classmates on his behalf.
He hadn’t even liked the guy, but they’d been in middle school at the time and only cared about dating; they’d been determined to get him a boyfriend whether he wanted one or not.
Mykala nimbly twirled away from Nick and tossed the phone to Jess, who proceeded to stand on the back of the sofa to keep out of Nick’s reach.
Her fingers were moving at lightning speed.
She swiped and dragged and then moved in the unmistakable pattern of someone typing, all while Mykala used the full force of her 110 pounds to keep Nick at bay.
“Jess, please—”
“Done!” she said and handed it back to him. “I was nice about it, I promise. Used a picture already on your phone.”
“Of me?” he squeaked and did a mental inventory of the pictures he had. A few selfies, some pictures from his runs, a few hockey things. Nothing incriminating, nothing scandalous.
“I’m not a monster.” Jess rolled her eyes. “It’s not you, and it’s 100% hockey-related, but definitely on the gay side. By the way, when are you taking me to a hockey game if the guys who play look like that? Like what the fuck, Nick, you’re holding out on us.”
There was actual sweat on his brow as he unlocked his phone. What had Jess done and how could it possibly tell him whether Brady was straight or not?
“Oh my God,” he breathed out. Right there on his screen, in all his glory, was Jakob Vrana, forward for the Washington Capitals. And not just any picture of Vrana. Oh no, it was much worse.
It was a picture with his jersey pulled up to reveal an incredible six pack of abs. And right below that, masquerading as him, was Jess’s succinct comment.
Nick (8:14 p.m.)
thoughts?
“To be fair, that was low hanging fruit if you had that on your phone,” Jess said.
“I hate you. I hate you, I hate your sister, I hate your stupid brother for not helping me right now, and I hate that I now have to explain—”
His phone vibrated in his hand, and his rant immediately died out.
Jensie from Hockey (8:16 p.m.)
why does a hockey player need a six pack?
Seguin too I don’t get it
you’ve got players like Kessel and Ovechkin who clearly will never have a six pack and do just fine
“What’s he saying?” Mykala whined. “Gay things?”
“Uh…” Nick wasn’t sure how to answer that. The Seguin comment wasn’t exactly straight, but nothing else really hinted either way. “Unclear?”
“Unclear!? Okay, well maybe that’s answer enough. If someone’s not drooling over that picture they are not into guys, period,” Jess said firmly.
“Are you saying I’m not as good looking as Vrana?” Nick asked.
“Is that even a question?”
Nick’s phone buzzed again.
Jensie from Hockey (8:18 p.m.)
like I get the appeal but seriously
Well… that was a little queerer.
“You know what, I’m gonna…” He trailed off and headed upstairs to find some peace and quiet.
His cousins high-fived each other in congratulations.
He still hated them.
Nick (8:20 p.m.)
you know you actually look like a player on the caps
Jensie from Hockey (8:20 p.m.)
I’m gonna stop you right there.
which one?
Nick (8:21 p.m.)
tom wilson
Jensie from Hockey (8:21 p.m.)
jfc just fucking kill me now
Nick (8:22 p.m.)
also michal kempny
Jensie from Hockey (8:22 p.m.)
yeah well you look like a player from the pens
Nick waited patiently for another message. After a few minutes, he smiled down at his phone as he typed.
Nick (8:26 p.m.)
i don’t look like anyone on the pens do i
you are currently googling a team picture or something to try and make some connection and are failing miserably
Jensie from Hockey (8:28 p.m.)
I have no idea what you’re talking about
Nick (8:29 p.m.)
what, no attractive players on the pens?
Jensie from Hockey (8:32 p.m.)
maybe there’s no one ugly enough on the Pens to be you
Nick (8:33 p.m.)
hey i was nice and pointed out two very hot players on the caps who you look like
It was probably the wine from dinner that was pushing this further than he normally went, and the fact that Brady wasn’t there in front of him.
He wasn’t this bold in person, not when faced with stunning blue eyes.
There was a very real possibility that this could blow up in his face, but he couldn’t help himself.
Besides, Pittsburgh to Howard County was probably a good two hundred miles. The fallout couldn’t go that far, right?
Jensie from Hockey (8:38 p.m.)
I think the real issue here is you seem to think tom wilson is hot
Not that I think you’re hot? he typed, and then immediately deleted it.
He couldn’t send that—he’d gone far enough already and figured he shouldn’t push his luck—so instead he went with:
Nick (8:39 p.m.)
objectively speaking he is
Jensie from Hockey (8:39 p.m.)
you are in no way objective about this
Nick (8:40 p.m.)
are you implying that you, as a pens fan, *are* objective?
because if so i can find some pics that demonstrate my point
Jensie from Hockey (8:43 p.m.)
no thanks
As much as he wanted to keep the conversation going, there wasn’t a whole lot he could say. What other players do you think are hot? might help paint a better picture of Brady’s sexuality, but they’d already gotten into a muddled mess of talking about each other as much as the players.
Inspiration hit, a safer approach that kept things going.
Nick (8:45 .p.m)
what about jagr? he hot?
Almost immediately he got a response so definitive he laughed out loud.
Jensie from Hockey (8:45 p.m.)
abso fucking lutely he is
Jagr is like a fine wine
that mullet wasn’t great but it was the early 90s gotta make some allowances
and he looks baller with the beard
you see him dangling around those scrubs in the Czech league? also hot af
also I have been informed by my sister that Tom Wilson is in fact hot
Nick (8:49 p.m.)
and i assume you’ve disowned her
Jensie from Hockey (8:49 p.m.)
obviously.
it’s gonna make the rest of Thanksgiving super awkward
Nick snuck back into the basement where his cousins were arguing over the merits of watching Avatar—thematically on point for Thanksgiving—versus Aliens—which also arguably went along with the invaders from another place killing indiscriminately for their own benefit.
Okay with either choice, he plopped down on the couch next to Jenna.
She nudged him with her elbow and whispered, “What’s the verdict?”
“He went on about how Jaromir Jagr is hot and off the top of his head knows Tyler Seguin’s got a six pack so… probably not 100% straight? Do straight boys do that?”
Jenna snorted. “Jock straight boys? Not in high school they didn’t, but maybe the grown-up versions do.
Yeah, I’d say that’s in your favor. Maybe ramp up the flirting?
” She held up her hands, pointer finger and thumb almost touching.
“Just a smidge? Or are you still on the ‘It’ll Ruin My Life’ train? ”
Nick stared at his phone and couldn’t contain a grin. “I am, but I think I might try anyway.”