Page 3 of Final Breakaway (For Puck’s Sake #11)

CHAPTER 3

ETNA

Since New Jersey, we’ve been on a losing streak. Won our first three away games and lost the last two. I suppose two games can’t really be considered a streak, right? It’s just two games.

Tomorrow, we play Vegas, and I have a feeling we’re going to lose. A combination of our mentality after Jersey and the fact Azure Dayne is their goalie has a way of creeping in like a virus. Meeting his eyes is like staring your own death in the face. I can feel the chill of my demise run down my spine when his eyes land on me. Yeah, I also know I’m not the only one who feels that way.

Some say that’s the reason Vegas won’t trade him. Some say he’s the key to Vegas’s success. Everyone knows about Azure Dayne’s stare. It gets in your head. Hockey players are superstitious on a good day, but usually not about individual teams. However, hands down, the last thing we tell each other before we get on the ice to play Vegas is to never look Azure in the eyes.

Keno’s met him several times through the Gays Can Play events, and says Azure is just as chilling in person. Maybe more so. But he’s a nice enough guy.

I’m not sure I’ve ever talked to him. Not even in passing.

“Hey, are you supposed to meet up with Azure?” I ask.

“Mm-hmm,” he answers and pulls out his phone. I watch as he taps around. “But I haven’t heard from him.”

Apparently, when he was initiated into the Gays Can Play group, they explained there’s an unofficial rule that when they play each other, whoever is on the home team reaches out to the person/s on the away team to see if they want to get dinner and catch up. It’s a support thing.

Of course, it’s completely okay to reach out and say you’re not up for it that night and it’s equally acceptable to decline an invite. But communication is important.

I’ve gone with him to meet some of the guys he’s most fond of. Buffalo, obviously. When we played Buffalo last week, Lo came in from Toronto, dragging Azure with him since Vegas just played in Toronto and we had a big ol’ gay party that turned into a bigger gathering than normal because we brought Hilt, Horny, and Julian with us to catch up with Lo, even though Julian wasn’t on the team when Lo was.

“He’ll probably get in touch tomorrow, but I don’t know.” Keno shrugs. “Not a big deal. He just got that boyfriend who he maybe or maybe doesn’t tie up.”

I laugh. Apparently, the traditional greeting with Azure is asking him if he’s tied up anyone lately. We’re unsure where that originated or why. However, in Buffalo, he didn’t give his usual ‘not lately’ answer. Instead, he answered with a smirk that turned everyone’s attention to his son-of-celebrities boyfriend.

There’s someone for everyone.

Today, we’re walking the Vegas Strip. We stop in front of the Bellagio to watch the fountain display. I think I’ve seen it a hundred times, but I don’t hate watching it. Especially when the wind is blowing just right and I’m sprayed with water. There’s nothing wrong with a little mist in the dry Vegas heat.

Arizona is a desert. Practically the entire state is a desert. It’s hot. But there’s something very distinct about Vegas heat that just feels different from the Arizona desert we’re used to. Not only the desert heat but also infrastructure heat. Massive crowds of people and body heat. Pollution heat. Electricity heat.

Honestly, it’s probably one of the most miserable places I’ve ever been. There are too many people. It’s too loud. Too dirty. Too damn hot. The other option is to stay inside the casinos and be suffocated by smoke; even if it isn’t allowed everywhere, it still smells.

Yeah, love Vegas.

We stop in a casino and both lose $20. That’s always our spending limit. Once, Keno won $1,000, and we had a very expensive steak and lobster dinner that night. But usually, we lose. I’m not entirely sad about it, since sinning is where addictions begin.

There are a lot of things to do in Vegas, but they’re all different renditions of the same thing—gambling, smoking, shopping, eating, or going to a show. Honestly, it’s not really my cup of tea. If you’ve been here once, you’ve been here a thousand times. It never changes.

Except that it gets dirtier. My feet keep sticking to the sidewalk, and I don’t even want to know what that is. It’s like being in a movie theater. Gross.

“Look,” Keno says and points ahead. A pride flag catches my attention. “Let’s check it out.”

I follow as he drags me through the crowd toward the flag. There are a couple drag queens there taking pictures with travelers. We watch the crowd for a minute before someone approaches and offers us a brochure. It has the two drag queens we’re watching on the front.

“Ah. They’re part of a show,” I say.

“They’re super cute,” Keno comments.

I turn my attention back to them. Yeah. They’re cute.

“Want to share a banana split?” Keno asks.

I glance at him, wondering how he went from admiring a couple of drag queens to asking about ice cream. They rhyme. I suppose that’s a connection.

“Sure. Okay. Don’t we need dinner first?”

He turns to look at me with amusement. “You’re a grown man, now. You’re allowed to have your dessert before dinner.”

Rolling my eyes, I shove him. Keno pockets the brochure and leads me down the strip until we find somewhere we can get some ice cream. With a banana split and two ice creams in hand, we sit at the bar next to the window and watch the world outside.

There are people dressed up as different characters. Those show girls with the big feathers on their heads who do high kicks. I can’t see the drag queens from here, but their pride flag still waves proudly in the air over the heads of the pedestrians. There’s even a man walking around in a Speedo, cowboy boots, and a cowboy hat.

“You think he’s a transplant from New York City?” I ask, nodding in his direction.

“That guy wears tighty-whities. This one is at least in a Speedo. But I think moving here is wiser; he has the weather to walk around like this year-round. Though I can’t say whether that’s the same guy. I don’t know if I’d be able to recognize him in a lineup.”

We continue to people watch as we make our way through the ice cream. “Want to go to a show tonight?”

“Magic Mike?” Keno asks, smirking. “Oh wait. Is it Thunder from Down Under here?”

I roll my eyes. “I was thinking of the drag queens’ show.”

He hums as he licks his spoon. “Yeah. I’ve never been to one. That could be cool.”

Pulling out my phone, I do a quick search until I find the show the two queens we saw advertised. “Six or Nine?”

Keno snorts. “Nine.”

I order the tickets and wait until I see them delivered to my email before closing out of the browser. “Cool. We’re booked.”

“Should have asked the guys if they want to go. And maybe Azure…?”

“It didn’t appear to be booked out. There’s probably room.”

He shrugs and makes no effort to text them. So I don’t bother either.

When we’re finished with our ice cream, we head back out into the heat. “What d’you want to do until then?”

“Well, we can choose a place for dinner. Might need to book for six, so we’re not late to our show.”

“Hard Rock?”

“Always a good choice,” he agrees as he pulls out his phone. “I got this one.”

“Okay, we still have a few hours until then. I’m not interested in gambling or shopping.”

Keno continues to tap away on his phone and then pockets it. “We can head to the hotel gym for a while. Or maybe the pool.”

“Oh. Let’s float in the pool for a while.”

We turn a corner and are practically run over by a couple laughing and falling all over each other as they stumble out of a chapel. I can smell the alcohol on them. Like, it’s strong.

Keno and I watch them for a minute. Keno’s smirking, amused. “Think this is a Ross and Rachel situation where they wake up horrified and divorce immediately after? Or a Penny and Zack situation where neither of them think it’s real?” Keno asks.

I study the couple as they continue down the sidewalk. The man gives a loud “Wooooo! I’m married!” as they go, throwing both hands in the air. The girl laughs madly, hanging off him for balance, then the man high-fives some random guy. “I’m fucking my wife tonight, bro!” he hollers, to which the group of guys walking by make loud catcalls.

“I’m going to say Penny and Zack. Just a vibe.”

He snorts.

We continue walking, and I peer inside the chapel on the way by. Those I can see inside look remarkably less drunk. That’s good to see, at least.

“You know, the construct of marriage is too old. I’m not sure why or exactly when it started being about love .” He mocks the word, which makes me laugh. “But at least back in the day, it was about making connections. It was about finding a match that was good for one reason or another. I’m not saying it all ended happily, but it rarely ended in divorce like it does now.”

“What you’re saying is you want an arranged marriage? I think I can make that happen for you.”

Keno laughs, shoving at me. “No. I’m saying more than 40% of marriages end in divorce. More than half of second marriages end in divorce. And this is all for love.”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at here. You don’t believe in love or marriage?”

He shakes his head, still amused. “I don’t know if I have a point. I recently saw a video that in some Asian countries, people are marrying for other reasons again. They’re negotiating with their friends—compatibility of lifestyle choices, financial responsibility, romantic interest, shared hobbies, the longevity of their friendship. Maybe even shared friends. That kind of thing.”

“That’s not a horrible idea. Looking to get back to your cultural roots?”

Keno gives me a look. He’s Asian somewhere in his ancestry, on his mother’s side; I think he said three generations or something. He’s sure he still has family in the East, though he knows nothing about them or even who they are. However, Asian genetics are strong, so he definitely has some of those features in his facial features.

It’s why he’s so aware of and advocates against the struggles of minorities. Both sides of his family have been born in the U.S. for several generations, but simply because he looks Asian, he’s judged with prejudices against him.

Again, it’s a struggle I never had to face. My last name is Indigenous American, but I don’t even share their blood. My great-grandmother was adopted by a Shasta indigenous couple when she was an infant, so she shared their name.

Even my first name is misleading. Etna, like Mount Etna in Greece. In reality, my parents wanted to name my twin sister for our grandmother, Edna. And like weird twin parents, they wanted our names to go together. Etna and Edna. Yeah, that’s not at all confusing.

“No. I just think if you’re going to spend your life with someone, it should be based on something more than ‘ they’re my soulmate and I’m going to love them forever .’ Seriously, how many times in their lives do people say that about different people? How many times do people fall in love? Seriously, I knew a girl growing up who dated someone new every month, and they were always the love of her life. They all even changed their name to Babe for her. I’m just saying—love is fickle.”

I can’t even argue. While hockey’s dictated my life and I haven’t really had a girlfriend I’d claim to love in the past, I understand what he’s saying.

“I like the idea of friends getting married. Someone you’ve trusted for a long time. Someone you’ve spent countless hours with and have lots in common with or whatever. In a relationship that isn’t about getting in their pants or being in love, you’re building something real. Far more solid than romantic love; that comes and goes. I just feel like there’s more sustainability in marrying your friends.”

I laugh. “Okay.”

Keno looks at me with a teasing smile and winks. “I’d totally marry you. I bet we’d be really fucking happy for the rest of our lives, bestie .”

“If I don’t drown you in the lake,” I retort, laughing.

He laughs too. The conversation changes to an escape room we see advertised as we consider doing it. But through the rest of the day, Keno’s teasing comment is never far from my thoughts.