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Without much to do after Coach Wiebe leaves, Ilya finally dares to look at his phone. There are tons of messages waiting for him, way more than when he had last looked at Shane's house. Some are expected ones, like from Sveta and Harris, but there are a lot of surprising ones too, from guys he hasn't played with or against in years. Ilya idly scrolls through the names until, down at the very bottom of his notifications, he sees a message from Marley. He opens it, and it turns out it's not even a real message. It's just a lot of question marks. Like a lot of them.
So Ilya leaves the message on read and doesn't reply, mostly because he doesn't know how to reply. It would help if he knew what the fuck Marley was even asking about. There are a million different things going on with him right now and Ilya doesn't have it in him to figure out which particular ones Marley has questions about. Fucking Marley with his fucking question marks.
Instead, he focuses on Shane and the messages from his current teammates and the ones from Hunter, Max, Eric and Kip. It's not like he searches them out as a distraction, not exactly, but they're easier to deal with right now.
Until, well, he can't put it off any longer. Ilya's thumb hovers over the text from Marley, the one with the one hundred question marks, and contemplates what he wants to say, what he should say.
Marley will be fine with it, right? With Ilya being bi? With him and Shane? He has a lesbian sister and sister-in-law after all. He'll be fine with the rainbow-ness of it all. Right?
That's when Ilya realizes, no, the teammate with the lesbian sister and sister-in-law is Hazy. But Marley has some sort of gay relative, doesn't he? Ilya racks his brain before it hits him - Marley has a gay nephew who goes to college somewhere in the Boston area. Marley was always talking about how wicked smart the kid is and how great it is that his engineering school is close by so he could see him more often.
So Marly is fine with queers, right? It's not just because it's his nephew? No, no, Marly is fine. He backed Ilya up when he shut down any and all talk about Scott Hunter in the locker room after he came out. He was even sort of supportive when the rumors about Shane being gay started circulating.
But… this isn't just about queerness in general. Or about other queer hockey players. This is about Ilya, specifically.
Fuck. What the hell is he supposed to say?
Hi -
He stops, backspaces over the two letters.
I -
He stops again, deletes it. Types "We"instead of "I", then stops again. How should he say this? Fuck pronouns. Pronouns are the least of Ilya's problems right now and Marley won't give a shit how he starts the message. He decides to just plunge in, because why the hell not? It's either going to be a shitshow from start to finish or it's not. Whether Ilya uses "I" or "we" won't make any difference.
Getting married in July. More details soon, but wanted you to know you are invited.
Then, before he can lose his nerve, he tacks on:
Bring Connors with you. And St. Vicky. And anyone else who wants to come.
And lastly, because Ilya is nothing if not a mean spirited little shit sometimes, he adds:
But maybe not Sebbin. I don't like him. He was not good about Scott Hunter. And Shane really doesn't like him.
Then he waits, although not for very long, because within about thirty seconds, Marley is texting him back.
Fuck yeah, Roz! Getting married to your Montreal girl!
Uh, guy? Shit. I mean, not shit about Hollander. But shit about Montreal girl. Guy. Shit.
FUCK.
You know what I mean right????
Ilya blows out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, relief flooding through him like he's a teenager who was waiting for a parent's lecture that never came.
We are good?
Yeah, of course!
?????
Again with the fucking question marks. Someone needs to teach this man how to text.
Fuck this. I'm calling you.
Sure enough, Ilya has barely finished reading the message when his phone starts to buzz with an incoming call.
"Shane fucking Hollander!" is the first thing that comes out of Marley's mouth, no hellos or congratulations or anything else. "Damn, but you've got more game than I ever gave you credit for, Rozy! You nailed down Shane fucking Hollander!"
"Hello to you, too, Marley," Ilya drawls.
Marley snorts out a laugh on the other end of the phone. "Yeah, yeah. Hi, hello, whatever. Shane fucking Hollander. I can't believe all this time that your Montreal girl was Shane fucking Hollander."
"Yes, that is my fiancee's name. Good job. Can you say it one more time, just like that?" Ilya asks sarcastically, but he can't hide the smile in his voice.
"I'm gonna say it about five million more fucking times," Marley threatens. "And then a few more times after that just for shits and giggles. And you're gonna sit there and take it."
Ilya's face settles into something which could generously be called a menacing glare. That is, if there was any way for Marley to see it over the phone line. But since he can't, the glare loses most of its effect. "Am I?"
"Yeah, you fucking are," Marley says, voice suddenly serious in a way that let's Ilya know the time for joking is over. "Because Montreal girl has been around for years - fucking years! - and not once did you ever trust a single one of us with the truth."
"Marley," Ilya says. "Was not just my secret to share."
"I know that, man - I really fucking do - but…" He stops, audibly exhales, starts again. "I want you to know I would have supported you. Whether it was Shane fucking Hollander or some other guy. You know? None of that gay shit matters."
Ilya feels tears prick at his eyes. "I know, Marley. I do."
"Good," Marley says gruffly.
They're both quiet for a moment, before Ilya cuts the silence with his usual irreverence. "But I need you to know, Marley, that I am not gay."
There's a beat. "Then what the fuck are you?"
"I am bisexual."
Marley laughs, loud and long. "Of course you fucking are! Because why settle for fucking around with just one half of the population when you can fuck around with all of it? Legend, Roz. You're a fucking legend."