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People keep bringing up the commercial like it's some holy grail of information. It's not. People know he's obsessed with hockey. People should be able to jump to the conclusion that 'hey, tis dude had to have spent a lot of time playing hockey to get this good.' Sid sees the graphs, the charts, the pictographs. He sees just how much better he is than everyone else and it's not weird. It's not weird and people need to stop.
Geno is constantly trying to get him to go out. Even though he has his off-and-on again girlfriend back home, Geno isn't ashamed to try and pick up a girl or two (“We have a deal. It's no big.”) on nights that they win. The guys think that it's weird that he goes home and watches every play, every pass, every skid down the ice to see where he was good and where he was bad. He watches other too since they make the same mistakes.
“Come on, Sid. Celebrate the win. Have fun!” Geno is literally pulling his arm, trying to drag him towards the group of his team members that are leaving to hit the clubs in Pittsburgh. “Just this one night. Just this one.” Geno says that all the time but it's a lie. It's every night and every win and every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, twice on Saturdays and every Sunday.
Sid lets out a breath and Geno knows that he has won. Sid is coming out with all the other party animals.
It's not that clubs aren't fun, it's well.... Clubs aren't fun. It's hot. It's smelly. It's tacky on the floor from sweat, drinks and probably more. His house is air conditioned. His house has space and a couch that isn't covered in people making out. He even has booze in the house. It might be 3 (to 7) years old but it's still there, dusty as ever.
“Look at that girl over there. Totally digging you.” Paul Martin digs an elbow into his arm, pointing at the girl who is obviously looking at him, twirling hair in her fingers and giving him the 'come hither' eyes.
“I'm alright,” Sid gives, finishing another coke and spiced rum. It tastes a lot like vanilla coke and Sid hasn't been able to find that in stores anywhere. He has money, but he hates shipping prices.
“Dude no. I'm going to send her a drink and you're going to say you sent it,” Paul says before literally pushing Sid over to her.
She's nice. She knows who she is. She talks good hockey and Sid actually really enjoys her. Sid gets to discuss his strong and weak points of the game and she offers unsolicited advice that Sid takes to heart.
“So, do you wanna get out of here? I totally have the game on DVR.” She grins, tapping her fingers against his forearm.
“Yeah! Sure!” Sid is really excited because he knows he forgot a few moments and he really wants to reply them.
The ride in the car is silent. She keeps staring at him and it honestly makes him kinda nervous. The dudes gave him all these thumbs up, but Sid knows he won since they are going to talk about the game when they get to her house.
Only, when they walk in the door, she pounces. Her lips are firm on his and he doesn't really know what to do for a moment. He pushes her off, probably a little too hard but he'll apologize later.
“I don't, um, what about the game?” Sid asks because he didn't sign up for this? Literally? She said they would watch the game.
“Dude, that was just an excuse.” She's giving him this 'duh' look. “Did you actually expect us to watch the game?”
“Well, yeah?” Sid has gone out to clubs before. People are generally much more 'Wanna come back to mine to fuck?' and less excuses. “You're really nice and all, but I'm just....” Sid just isn't into it. He's not into it at all.
She huffs but lets him out all the same. They exchange numbers because she does talk a good game but she doesn't hid the disappointment from her face.
- - - - -
“Saw you last night, Sid. Way to kill it,” Paul starts right as Sid gets into the room.
“I didn't do anything. She lied so I left.” Sid is actually kind of mad about it now. He really thought they were having a good time without all of that. “She just lied! She said we were going to talk about the game, but she lied.” Sid is rough on his skates, pulling the strings too tight and his hands shaking too hard for him to really do anything else with his laces.
“Dude, hey,” Paul is quieter now, his hands lightly on Sid's to stop him before he cuts himself on the blades of his skates.
“I just don't want any of that! I'm fine with friends. I'm fine with my teammates. I'm fine with hockey! You guys keep pushing and pushing and pushing but I'm fine and I'm fucking sick of it!” Sid's voice increases at every syllable until he's yelling across the locker room and everyone is staring at him.
Practice is shit that day and no one talks to Sid at all.
- - - - -
The next day it goes from soft whispers to complete silence when Sid enters the room. He knows because he had been bracing himself for a full minute before he walked into the room. Everyone stares. Everyone starts talking with their eyes with everyone but Sid.
It's not until Geno comes up to him as he's lacing up his skates with a bunch of papers in his hands. “Reading material.” Is all he says before leaving the locker room with everyone in toe.
Sid watches them all leave before finally looking down at the paper. “Asexual,” he says out loud. It's in big print on the first piece of paper and it's on every other paper in the stack. Sid reads through them, faster and faster as he gets through the stack.
He leaves the papers in his cubby before finding the rest of his team already out on the ice. Beau is the first to skate up to him and talk, the rest obviously waiting for the blow out to begin.
“You know we accept you right? We just all thought we were doing the right thing.” Beau is a sweet kid when he wants to be, he really is.
No one really talks about it the rest of the day, until everyone is unlacing and packing up, but moving slower than turtles when ready to leave.
“So is Sid asexual?” Geno plops down beside him, no pretenses to small talk before diving right in.
“Sid is asexual.” Sid can't help but grin a little bit because he's not weird anymore. Geno slaps him on the back, grin on his face.
“That doesn't mean you're out of celebrating. Not a word about no drinking in those papers.” Geno winks before grabbing his bag and being the first to walk out the door.
Everyone else kind of follows suit, smiling at Sid, slapping him on the shoulder or something before leaving right behind Geno.