ROCKET

The preseason starting on a Monday after a Saturday practice closing up the summer training means that I have Sunday off, just in time for Jilly, Steph's younger sister, to ship in from Maine. 

"Yo," I kick off my shoes in the front entry, not even bothering to knock. 

"Hey," he's in the kitchen wrestling with cooking something. "What are you doing?" 

"Looking for my favorite younger sister," I mimic looking around extra dramatic to make him laugh.

"Oh, come on, you're skipping hanging out with me?"

"Yes," I open his fridge, "I'm here for food and Jilly."

"Rocket!" I hear behind me. Then I'm crushed with a hug.

"Hey kid, it's been a quick minute since I've seen you," I hug her back, "how's it been?"

"Absolute shit, you?"

"Oh, come on, it can't be that bad, you're living with the best defenseman in the league!"

"Hey!" Steph rolls his eyes from next to me. "First off, I am not the best, and second off, no swearing over there."

I lean over to Jilly. "He's no fun, swearing adds flavor to things."

She grins. "Extra spice."

"Truly,"

Jilly looks into the other room for a second. "Steph?"

"Yea?"

"Can Rocket and I go get something to eat? You have nothing in this house that's unhealthy and moving has sucked and..." she's scheming. I can see it in her eyes. It's the same expression her brother uses. 

He looks over at the two of us. "Sure, just don't get sidetracked and don't get in trouble. Lord knows I don't have time for a lawsuit with you two."

"Hell yeah." She gives me a high five and I follow her back onto the elevator.

"So, what exactly do you have in mind for food?" I ask.

"An ice cream cake."

"The whole thing?"

"That's what bringing you is for." She raises her eyebrows at me, then waves at my body. "Human garbage disposal."

"Oh, gee, maybe we shouldn't-" I reach out to hit the button to go back up but she glares at me. "I'm kidding."

"Good," she snorts. "So, how's the new team? Steph hasn't said much."

I shrug. "Nothing much, just a team, they're all weird in a fun way, though."

"And how is the situation with the boys?" She wiggles her eyebrows at me. 

"Uh," I run my hand through my hair, "disappointing, from a gay guy's point of view, but pretty impressive from a teammate's point of view."

"Oh, come on, half the hockey world is over the moon about Fen," she tosses her hands up, "and you're going to sit here and be a picky gay?"

"Okay, I didn't mean it like I don't think he's attractive, no, that's nuts. You'd have to be blind. What I'm saying is that he's disappointingly taken. Like very clearly taken. And Nico scares the shit out of me so I wouldn't want to get in the middle of that. Plus, he's straight."

She thinks about it for a second.

"Why, do you have a crush on Fen?" I lean over to look at her and she shakes her head.

"Nah, never found him that attractive." She waves it off.

"Didn't you just say that half the hockey world is over the moon about him?" I tease her.

"Not this half," we get out of the front of the building and into my truck, "but okay, here's the problem, boys are gross."

"Agreed," I put the truck into gear and back out of the spot, then start up toward the east side to the only grocery store I can think of. "Boys are straight-up nasty."

"But aren't you attracted to them?" She challenges me.

"Yes," I laugh, "doesn't mean I don't find them mildly disgusting at the same time."

"Mildly?" she makes a gagging noise. "They don't shower, they don't smell good, they normally aren't all that nice, they fart, they burp, they don't know what shampoo is, they're constantly greasy as fuck and they think the creep mustache is cool. If they're well dressed they're stiff and mean, if they dress like they're going to sports practice they don't believe in women's rights and if they dress badly they're probably on the scene or really into weed. You just can't win!"

I laugh. "Woah, woah, woah, stop before you make me straight. That was a lot of generalizations and I only disagree with one of them," I look at her. "I believe in women's rights?"

"Right, that's because you're not straight."

"Okay, fair point. Your brother believes in women's rights."

She pauses. "Okay, good point, but he's an adult."

"Oh, we're complaining about teenage boys?"

"Yes?"

"Then continue, teenage boys suck." I park the truck and hop out, Jilly on my other side.

"I mean, it's to a point where there's literally no reason to be attracted to boys." We walk in the sliding front doors. "I mean, at all. Girls are like fifteen times more attractive, the only reason to be into guys is procreation."

"Mad facts," I respond, "girls are way more attractive than boys."

"But-"

"I'm into boys, I know, not my choice." We make our way toward the frozen aisle. "Just because I'm not into women doesn't mean I can't appreciate them, though."

"Right? It makes such a big difference when they know how to shower." Then we're standing in front of the ice cream cakes. "Clearly we're going to go with a Carvel cake, but what size."

"Doesn't matter, you brought me along. It depends on how much you want."

"We should go with a smaller one then, I mean, just so you don't take in too much and then have to practice on it tomorrow."

"Jills, I played semi-finals on three boxes of kraft mac and cheese once. My body is like a Toyota Corolla, give it anything and it'll run just fine."

"Fair point." She picks up a cake. "Do we need to frost something on it?"

"Nope, unless we're frosting 'boys are gross' on the top."

"Nah," we make our way toward the front and get a really weird look from the cashier as she rings up one ice cream cake to a young teenage girl and a 24-year-old accomplice. I'm just hoping I don't look like a creep. Jilly disappears while I'm paying and comes back with forks from the little café in the corner.

"Ah, good thinking," I say, as we carry the cake out into the parking lot again. "What's your bet on the weather here? Warm for today and tomorrow then cold as fuck for the rest of the year?"

"Nah, I say we've got about a week left. It's almost September," I flop down the door to the bed of the truck then sit down on it, setting the cake down too. "Plus, aren't you the one that's lived here for the longest?"

"In Regina?" I give her a weird look.

"No, idiot, Canada."

I laugh at that one. "Yeah, in Whitby. You're from Maine, do you know the first thing about the weather in South Carolina?"

"Probably warmer than Maine."

"See? The only thing I know about Saskatchewan is that it's windy as fuck."

"So are you planning to finally give in and try to get a boyfriend out here or what?" She changes the topic. "I mean, you've been wimping out for four years in Boston, what gives?"

I shrug. "Probably not, what about you? You're in a big rich kid school now, you planning on wheeling any guys?"

"Ew," she responds. "Can I ask you something?"

"Go for it." I take a forkful of cake.

"How the hell did you find out you were gay? Like, what happened? What told you?"

I raise my eyebrows. "I dunno, it was always there, but, the honest answer? First outside-induced erection. Why?"

She makes a face at that. "I was hoping that answer was something different."

"Like what?"

"Like, I don't know, a feeling or some crap. Like, do you just know, or does something have to happen?"

I shrug. "It was a whole series of events, you know, first that, then my first crush, which took me a while to realize was a crush, then a whole bunch of other gross teenage boy things that I did. Why, do I have to take you pride flag shopping? I'm always down for a good pride flag shopping spree."

She shakes her head. "Don't know. I mean, not yet, really."

"But you think?" I lean back on my elbows, swinging my legs over the side of the truck.

"Yeah, I think," she sighs, "that's why I asked you what told you, just because I kind of want a big sign or something so that I just know. Like if someone barged in my door and handed me a slip of paper on it that said the right sexuality. Something like that."

"Ain't that the truth," I snort. "Who was your favorite cartoon character as a kid?"

She gives me a weird look for that. "Why?"

"Just answer it."

"Velma from Scooby-Doo."

I raise my eyebrows. "Favorite character in Star Wars?"

"Leia."

"Harry Potter?"

"Dunno, maybe Dumbledore." She frowns at me. "Why are you asking?"

"Mine was Anakin and Draco and a guy from a Czech show; if that gives you an idea."

"Oh," she lets out a little laugh. "Wow, alright."

"What's your favorite band?"

"I like Hozier, King Princess, I also like a couple of-"

"You can stop it at Hozier and King Princess. I feel like that's a good sign." I put my hands under my head and look up at the sky.

"I guess that's good enough, I mean, I just, I don't know if it's just me faking it or some crap." I sit up and lean on an elbow, looking right at her.

"Hey, if you're into girls, you're into girls, hell, it's a whole load better than being into guys, ick." I lay back again. "And I know it gets really confusing, figuring it all out, but eventually you can put a name to a face and realize it fits."

"When did that happen for you? You know, when did you put a name on it?"

"Still haven't, and I know that's not all that encouraging for you right now. I remember when all I wanted in the world was a label for it. Now I just take everything as it comes at me, you know, you learn stuff about yourself throughout your whole life."

"So you don't label it? But when you told me you said you were just gay."

"I am," I shrug. "I guess a better way to phrase it is 'queer' but I didn't because I didn't know if you knew what that meant. Steph didn't."

She frowns, staring out at the parking lot. "I'm sorry if this is weird, but what do you mean by queer and not just gay?"

"Well, there's five main types of attraction. Sexual, wanting to have sex with them or any form of intimacy in that way. Romantic, which is wanting to pursue a relationship with them. Platonic, which is wanting a friendship. Sensual, which is wanting them to hug you, an attraction to the way they physically interact, and aesthetic, an attraction to how they look." I take a deep breath, watching a cloud roam a little too quickly across the sky for my own comfort. It's windy here. "So, the three types that you need to focus on to figure yourself out are platonic, romantic and sexual. You can get strong platonic crushes on people, it's happened to me, you can get just romantic attraction and just sexual attraction. So, when you start to notice an attraction to someone, picture yourself doing things with them. I know you're fourteen so the sexual part of all of this hasn't developed fully, but I'll tell you what I do when I notice I have an attraction." 

Apparently I pause for too long. "What do you do?"

"Well, I find a moment to myself after my attraction to them gets to a certain point. Then I think. I picture them doing different things with me, again, some of this might be harder for you because you haven't grown up all the way yet. I picture going out on a date, kissing, hand holding, all that. If I'm okay with that- excited by that- I know it's romantic, if I'm not, I ask if I just want to play video games and go out with them and a group of friends after a game. That's a platonic crush. If I don't want that either, I think about how they look, if I just want more time to study them and process what clothing choices they make and how they appear, that's aesthetic attraction. If it's none of that, I start toward the type of attraction I experience the least. A sole attraction to simply wanting to lay around and cuddle with them. And this is the gross part, if I find myself turned on while in their presence, thinking about them, any imagination-provided situations, that's sexual attraction." 

"I've got a friend who's aromantic, is that involved with those?"

I nod, staring out at the rest of the parking lot. "Aromantic means you don't experience any romantic attraction. An aromantic person can want sex, can want a platonic relationship, can want to be cuddled with, can like someone's aesthetic, they just don't want any built-upon romantic relationship. Same with asexual. An asexual person can want a romantic relationship but the second it comes to sex, they're not attracted to it. They don't look at other people they find attractive and consider sex. They can range from open to sex, just for the pleasure of their partner, knowing it might be uncomfortable with it, to sex-repulsed. Then there's smaller categories. Demi-romantic/sexual people only experience that type of attraction once enough platonic or romantic trust has been built up, and by enough I don't mean one conversation or two dates. That process could take years. People tend not to believe in aro/ace and demi people based off the simple nature of attraction that they experience. It's not just distaste for romantic and sexual relationships, it's the complete absence of being remotely into the idea." 

She seems to be processing that easily. "Okay, yeah, got it. That was just a little side-train I remembered needing to ask you. So, back to you, why do you use queer and not gay?" 

I pause for a long moment, trying to figure out how to respond. "I guess I think I'm classified as queer and not gay is because the lines between my attraction are fuzzy. I'm only sexually attracted to men. Ever. That's exclusive. But I'll get a romantic crush here and there on a girl and I haven't been known to shy away from crushes on gender non-binary folk. There was this dude, and I'm using dude as a gender-neutral term, back in Boston at this coffee shop, they were definitely a they and we talked sometimes but oh my god I was absolutely over the moon for them. Ah, Echo Schmidt, the peak of my queer career." 

She stops swinging her legs, thinking. "I thought queer was a derogatory term, you know, like..." she fades out, looking for the right word. "Like the same lines as the f-slur." 

I puff out my cheeks. "At one point, yes, the f-slur and queer were used interchangeably as derogatory terms. Even now, queer isn't an accepted term for some of the community and a lot of people barely even know what it means, but, some people reclaimed it from that history and made it another label." I hope she doesn't ask any specific history questions. I'm not as well-versed in Gay 101 as other gay people who might have had more exposure to the community. "I use it in specifics because I can, and it tends to describe myself better in my own head. Again, to the people I'm out to, Steph, my mom, Kelly, and you, I just use gay." 

"So it's just another thing to say as what you are?"

"Yep." I shrug. "And feel free to use any label as a label until you figure out another one or maybe stay with the first one or anything, really. Sexuality is fluid, it's not your choice and it changes kind of a lot, especially when you're growing up. Not so much once you get to be my age, but for you, definitely." 

She nods like she's thinking really hard about something, which I guess is alright. I hope I didn't scare her away from any of the topics and whatnot. That would suck.

Then she pipes up again. "When did you tell Steph? You know, because I know none of the guys know and I know you have to keep it really down on the hockey front."

"I ah, the night before the draft, actually, both of us were a little freaked out and I knew I had to, just in case we got separated. I wanted to make sure he knew the whole me, again, just in case." I laugh, "probably good we didn't get separated."

"Probably good," she nods. "So not until you were eighteen?"

"Sometimes it's a really tough thing to come to terms with, you know, sometimes it hurts to even think about. You're lucky on that front, you've got me and Steph right here for you if it gets bad on any end. I didn't."

"Right." She lies down in the truck bed with me, looking up at the clouds. "So, what if I was? What if that's what happens?"

"Then you and I can go to Pride together in June, I'll have to wear a mask and a hat because half the people here are bound to know who I am, but we can go together," I let out a little laugh, she smiles but I can tell she's still worried. "No, if that's what you figure out in the next couple months, then you take it at your own speed. If you need to label it, stick with going loose with the label. Don't use really tight terms on everything and remember that you can always change it if you find differently." I take a deep breath. "And don't tell anyone unless you feel completely safe with them. The first few people you tell will make or break it for you. Choose them wisely because if you get rejected on your first try, it messes with you."

"I guess," she sighs. "So how do I figure it out?"

"Think about it," I respond. "Let it knock around in your head. Let yourself get crushes without your conscience messing with them. Just let it happen."

We're silent for a long time there, letting the ice cream cake digest.

"I think you need a boyfriend." She eventually says.

It makes me laugh outright. "We'll see."

"Isn't there a dating app for you guys? Like, for gay guys?"

I can't help but laugh harder. "Jilly... that's not... not at all a dating app."

"It isn't? What is it used for? It's like gay tinder, right?"

"Yes, that's exactly what it is," I lift up to my elbows so I can look at her. "But, you know what happens on tinder, right? Like, I'm not going to get in trouble with Steph for corrupting you?"

"Right, people go on dates and stuff, you know, meet other people?"

"No, well, maybe, but no," I shake my head. "You know what a hookup is?"

She frowns. "Like making out with someone?"

I pull some air through my teeth. "Among other things, yes, technically."

"Oh, ew."

"Yeah," I snort, "it's the same thing for that app. Plus, I wouldn't be caught dead on there. All it takes is one guy to recognize me and make some little post and bingo, the whole league knows I'm gay and that I was on there."

"Alright, good point," she puffs out her cheeks, "so how would you go about getting a boyfriend?"

"Not sure. We'll find out if I find the time," I look at her and make a face, "do you think Steph's going to get a girl out here?"

She sticks out her tongue. "I hope not. I bet he gets icky with a girlfriend."

"You're completely right. He is disgusting to be around when he's in a relationship."

"Boys are gross."

"Cheers to that." 

***

maybe I don't know, but maybe that's okay.

maybe IDK - Jon Bellion

***

So, Jilly's explaination: Jilly is Steph's younger sister, she's 9 1/2 years younger than him and going to school in Regina while living with him. Steph is Rocket's best friend, he was also traded from boston to regina at the same time. they've been friends