I’d seen Fee play hockey only once before, but watching them play now, it was clear to me how much they loved it. They weren’t particularly fast or nimble, but they weren’t as brutal as I thought they’d be either. They were bigger than most players on the court, but mostly used their size to defend the ball or their goalie—like a fortress—instead of throwing their body around like I tended to do (like a cannonball).

And they were smart. You could just see their brain calculating each pass and play—waiting patiently for the right time, the most efficient maneuver.

If they were this skillful and smooth on the ball hockey court, I wished I’d been able to see them play ice hockey and watch them trade that energy with the other players like they’d talked about.

After the game, Fee brought over a couple of people from their team and introduced me. “Daya, this is Bo and Simi. Daya’s the one who skates at the park with me.”

I shook their sweaty hands and said hi.

“Fee said you’d be a wicked ball hockey player, Daya. We got some spots to fill,” Simi said in a singsongy voice that reminded me too much of Uncle Priam.

I shook my head at Fee, immediately seeing through their attempts to recruit me. “Ha-ha… yeah… Fee’s been trying to get me to play on this team for a while.”

“Why don’t you?” Bo asked.

“I—well, I don’t really identify as—”

“Queer?” Simi said, and gave me a not-so-subtle up-down. “You don’t really need to. I mean, it’s not like we need to see some kind of queer ID or something.”

They all laughed and so did I, partly to conceal my growing discomfort and the sudden image of a cute trucker hat that popped into my mind. Fee must have picked up on my awkwardness, because they said, “It’s cool. Daya’s probably going to be too busy with roller derby to play on our hockey team anyway.” They winked at me and handed me my phone, which I hadn’t noticed they’d had in their hand this entire time. “Sorry, it buzzed just as I was taking it out of my bag and I couldn’t help but see.” They grinned enormously at me.

I quickly unlocked my phone and stared at the screen.

Congrats! Ur a Killa Honey! Fresh meat report to the butcher’s (Undesirables on E. Broadway) Saturday night at 7. Bring skates. Don’t come on an empty stomach. But do come with ur roller derby name and polish up those dance moves ;)

My elation at the first few words quickly turned into anxiety by the last sentence. But I read the first five words again to remind myself of the most important thing—I’d made the team. I was a Honey.

Chapter Twenty