“You’re ridiculous.”
“Only sometimes.” We kissed again, but she pulled back.
“Oh, I have a question. Can Murder stay with you until I find another place?” I laughed.
“Of course. Your cat is my cat.” Her eyes narrowed.
“Don’t you dare steal him. He’s mine.”
I pretended to be offended by the notion.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Liar.”
I stopped her protestations with another kiss.
Epilogue
“He loves me more,” I said, as Murder perched on top of a stack of boxes that we had yet to unpack. Lacey had sent for the last of her things from storage and we were moving her into her new apartment. Our new apartment.
We’d only been together for a few months, but my lease had been up and she’d wanted me out of that crappy studio. So when she’d asked me if I would rent a place with her, I had no objections.
“It’s only because you sneak him treats,” she said, fiddling around in one of the boxes for the wine glasses she thought she had in there. We’d gotten everything inside the apartment. Now we just had to unpack it, but first we needed a drink.
“I can only find a mug with the word ‘fuck’ on it and a cereal bowl with a unicorn on it,” she said, holding them up.
“Good enough,” I said and popped the bottle of wine, filling the unconventional glasses.
Lacey Cole was my girlfriend and we were living together. I didn’t know much beyond that, but I didn’t need to. I was happy. She was happy. I was still working my three jobs, but I’d cut back a little on my hours so I could have more time with Lacey. More time to be idle. To be still. She was still working on her project and was looking at launching it soon. Instead of staying in a new place, she would go for a weekend, or a few days. She also had been taking photos at her friend’s studio and was building up quite a list of clients and had several weddings booked this summer.
I took the offensive mug, leaving her with the bowl.
“To love,” I said, holding the mug up.
“That’s a cliché,” she said, making a face.
“So?”
“So, we should toast to something original.”
“Like what?”
“To . . . boxes!” She raised her bowl. We were surrounded by them.
“Okay, fine. To boxes. And love,” I added.
Lacey smiled.
“To boxes and love.” We both raised our “glasses” and clinked them together.
Murder yowled in protest.
“No, you can’t have any wine,” Lacey said. “Wine is for humans only.” We sipped and set our makeshift wine glasses down.
“Come here,” Lacey said, holding her arms out.
“What are we doing?”
“Dancing.” We started to sway to nonexistent music.
“This is my favorite song,” I said.
“What song is that?” Lacey said, dipping me. I arched back and then looked up at her.
“Ours.”
“Mine too,” she said.
One
“I swear, if I don’t get out of here I’m going to lose it,” I said to my cousin Anna, holding my phone against my shoulder as worked on packing up my dorm room. Staying with her this summer was my absolute last resort. I could not live at home with my parents suffocating me. Plans to crash with friends had fallen through, so she was my only hope. She’d moved in with her girlfriend, Lacey, who traveled a lot doing photography, so I didn’t think it would be too much of an imposition. I’d sleep on the couch; I didn’t even care. I would sleep on the damn floor.
“Hey, it’s okay, Serena. Of course you can stay with us. You’re family.” Not only were we family, but she was also one of the only other queer people I knew. My parents didn’t understand my demisexuality or my demiromanticism or my bisexuality and I was tired of trying to explain myself to them so they’d believe I didn’t just make words up from reading too many Tumblr posts.
“Thank you,” I said, those two words not enough to express how I felt. I sat down on one of the boxes that contained part of the crap from my dorm room. Honestly, I would have loved to go straight to Anna’s from here, but I didn’t want to shove all of this junk in her small apartment, so I had to go home first.
Home. It was a strange word, and it didn’t feel the way it was supposed to feel. Home was supposed to be warm and safe and the people in it were supposed to accept you unconditionally.
Or maybe that was just for Hallmark cards.
Time was ticking away, and I needed to get from school to home and then to Anna’s. It was going to be a long day.
*^*^*
“Thank fuck,” I said, nine hours later when I finally collapsed on Anna’s couch and she handed me a glass of wine. Lacey’s cat, Murder, had commandeered my lap and was purring loudly.
“You doing okay?” she asked and I stuck my hand out and waved it side to side before going back to petting Murder.
“Things go okay with your parents?” I rolled my eyes.
“What do you think?” I seriously needed a shower, both to wash of the sweat of moving everything and to get the feel of being with my parents off my skin.
“I’m sorry,” she said, rubbing my arm. “It seems to run in the family.” Our mothers were sisters and seemed cut from the same problematic cloth. Her parents still lived in town, but she never saw them. I’d grown up just a few towns over, and the chances of seeing mine were also slim. Thankfully.
“Where’s Lacey?” Anna’s eyes took on a dreamy cast when she thought about her girlfriend. They’d met by chance and had been serious right from the beginning. I was expecting a ring sometime soon.
“She’s off in Vermont this week. She’s got to take work when she can get it, but having her gone a lot is hard.” She sipped her wine and sighed.
I hadn’t dated anyone in a while. Actually, the last person I dated was Fiona, my BFF from high school. I’d fallen hard for her and . . . things hadn’t worked out. I still stalked her on social media every now and then. She was off at school in New York. I tried not to think about her too much; I was still raw.
“Are you sure she’s okay with me being here?” I asked. The apartment wasn’t huge, but it had a second bedroom that Lacey used as her in-home photography studio, and that was where I’d be sleeping. I was a little nervous about messing anything up or tripping on some of the equipment when I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night, but Anna had assured me that I could make myself at home on the spare bed that Lacey sometimes used for her boudoir photos.
“Of course. It’ll be fun to have a roommate for a little while. Plus, you can keep me company when she’s gone. What else do you have planned over the summer?” I was hoping to avoid this part, but I needed another favor from Anna.
“Do you think maybe they might need help washing dishes at the café? I will literally work for anything. I just need something to do during the day and make a little money so I can pay you rent.” She shook her head, setting her wine glass down on a coaster on the coffee table.
“No, you’re not paying rent. We already agreed to that. You can help with groceries or utilities, but that’s it. You’re family.” Anna and I had hung out a lot growing up and I’d always felt such a kinship with her, more than some of my other cousins. I wondered if it was the queer in me recognizing the queer in her before we knew.
“And I’m sure we can find something for you at the café.” I breathed a sigh of relief. That was two things out of my way. Now I just had to actually get through the summer.
“Plus, if you wanted to give me a hand with some of my publicity work, I could pay you for some of that. Just like, sending out emails and stuff like that.” Anna was currently working three jobs: waitress at the café, part-time librarian, and she also did freelance publicity for authors. It made my head hurt.
“Oh, wow, that would be great. I could even add that to my resume when I
start looking for internships.” I was an English major in college, with the goal of being involved in publishing somehow. Either as an author, editor, or literary agent. I wasn’t sure yet. That was yet another reason I wanted to stay with Anna–we had so much in common. I was definitely going to be raiding her bookshelves. Most of my books had to go back to my parent’s house, but thank goodness for e-readers.
“Sure! Anything to help out.” She put her arm around me and gave me a squeeze.
“I know it hasn’t been easy for you and I want to help. I really do. I wish I’d had someone when I was your age, and I want to be there for you.” I tried to duck my head and wipe away the few tears that escaped my eyes.
“Thanks. That means more to me than you can ever know. I just . . . Thank you, Anna. Seriously, thank you so much.” She grinned and hugged me again.
Things were going to be okay. I was going to be okay.
Two
A few days later I started work at the Violet Hill Café as a hostess-slash-dishwasher-slash-whatever. Basically, I would go in and do the stuff that no one else wanted to, or had time to do. Like taking down the old ads on the corkboard, making sure the tables weren’t wobbling, and helping Daisy in the bakery. I loved that part the most.
“So now everyone wants stuff like from The Great British Bake-Off and I want to be like I’m not Mary Berry! I haven’t been baking from infancy. But I’ll give it a shot,” she said with a laugh as she rolled up perfectly-filled chocolate croissants. I thought all of her pastries were beautiful, and I could definitely not do anything that looked that good. Still, she was letting me try, which was cool too. Today, I was learning about croissants.
Her face was covered in flour, as usual, but I liked Daisy. She knew what she was good at. Her undercut was also totally badass and I envied her bravery in rocking it. I had wanted to do something adventurous with my hair for a long time, but didn’t know what. Today I had it twisted back in a boring blonde ponytail. Blah. I hated feeling blah. I didn’t want to feel blah anymore. I need a change. I need to shake things up.
“Hey,” Anna said, drawing my attention as she shoved armfuls of dirty plates back on the counter toward the dishwasher. “Can you do those and then come help me out front? I just need someone to take a few orders and do some seating. I’m desperate.” Sometimes in the afternoons the café filled up and there was a line out the door of people waiting. It stressed me the fuck out, but I needed this job and working at a queer-friendly (and queer owned) café was more than I could ask for.
After Lacey did a profile on Jen and Sal and the café (including Anna and some of the more colorful customers), people had been traveling to come here, if only because they knew it was a safe place to be.
“Sure, give me a few minutes and I’ll be out,” I said, going to work on the dishes. I got them in the industrial washer, wiped my hands, and put on an apron.
Whoa, Anna was right. People were cramming themselves into nooks and corners, some even standing while sipping their coffee. It was going to be A Day.
I took a breath and thanked my lucky stars that I had worked weekends waitressing up at school to make extra money and could pretty much go into that headspace without a lot of effort.
I slicked on a smile and seated the first couple, who were about my age and painfully cute. They kept looking around in wonder, including studying my nametag that said “Serena, she/her” on it. I gave them menus and poured water and said I’d be back to take their orders.
“Serena?” a voice said behind me. I nearly crashed into one of the tables in all the chaos.
I whirled around because I knew that voice.
“Fi,” I said before I could stop myself. The café faded away as I stood there, locked in on her brown eyes. I hadn’t seen her in person in years, but here she was, in the café, waiting for a table.
I opened and closed my mouth a few times and she gave me a shy smile.
“Long time no see,” she said and I looked from her to the girl she was with. Tattoos, choppy brown hair, and a septum piercing. I looked back at Fiona.
My brain couldn’t figure out what I was supposed to be saying or doing. All I could do was drink in her familiar face with the freckles all across her nose and cheeks. Her skin was tanned and her hair was cut in a cute long bob that framed her face.
Oh, shit. I was staring. I was staring and I needed to stop. I ripped my eyes away from hers and blinked a few times. Right. I was in a café. I was a waitress. I needed to get them to a table.
“Um, follow me,” I said, spinning around and leading them to a table that had just emptied and been wiped down. I robotically showed them to it and then handed out menus and tried to pour water without spilling too much. I couldn’t look at her.
“Hey,” a soft voice said and a freckled hand touched my arm. I looked at her just as I was about to scurry away.
I looked from Fiona to the girl she was with and realized that they were probably together. Well, shit. She’d moved on, and why shouldn’t she? We’d dated in high school when neither of us knew what the fuck we were doing. I still didn’t know what I was doing, but at least I had a few years of experience under my belt.
“I’ll be back to take your order in a few,” I said quickly, because there were people still waiting to be seated and I didn’t want to get fired my first week. I had no backup if I lost this job.
I scampered away, but I couldn’t stop thinking about seeing her. About what happened the last time I saw her. About what had happened in her life since. Clearly, a lot.
As I went through the motions, I kept part of my attention on her table. At last, I was able to go ask them what they wanted. Maybe I could figure out what the relationship was.
“Okay, so what can I get you?” I asked, poised and staring at my order pad.
“I’ll have a why-are-you-acting-like-we-don’t-know-each-other and a side salad,” Fiona said, which made my head snap up.
“What?” I said.
“I . . . think I’m going to find the bathroom,” her companion said, easing out of her chair and basically running away. Great.
“Okay, that was mean, but at least it got your attention,” she said, and I was locked into her eyes again. Such lovely eyes. I remembered the look in them when we’d . . .
Yeah, I didn’t need to think about that right now.
“I’m working,” I said, gesturing around. “And you’ve moved on, so . . . I don’t know what there is to say.” I started to sweat. I mean, sweat more than I was already sweating. With all the bodies in here, it’s heats up quick.
She looked confused and then her eyes went wide.
“Oh! You thought I was with . . . no, no, no! Trick is just a friend. She has a girlfriend and a partner and I don’t think she’s looking for anyone right now. Not that that would make a difference. Anyway, we’re not together.” She spoke in a rush and I almost didn’t catch everything.
“Look, this is going to have to wait. I just, I can’t do this right now.” I pleaded with my eyes and she nodded.
“Of course. Of course. When do you get off?” I glanced over at the clock.
“In about an hour.”
“Okay, cool. I’ll just wait for you. If that’s okay?” Did I really have a choice? I mean, I was glad to know she wasn’t with the sexy girl she’d come in with. Wait, no I wasn’t!
Fiona Davis had scrambled my brain.
*^*^*
One extremely painful hour later, I took off my apron and told Anna I would see her later. She had a later shift, so I would be at the apartment alone. Lacey wasn’t coming back until tomorrow.
Fiona was out front at one of the café tables, fiddling with her phone. Trick? or whatever the girl’s name was that she’d been with, had left.
“Hey,” I said, taking the empty seat next to her.
“Hey,” she said, setting her phone down. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I asked, crossing my arms. I was on my guard because my heart was still pre
tty bruised from how things had ended.
“For acting like that. I shouldn’t have said that stuff while you were working. I guess I just got ahead of myself when I saw you. It’s been so long.” She gave me a tentative smile, but I was still on my guard.
“It has. What are you doing here?” I asked, even though she’d grown up two towns over. The area was so small that the high school we’d attended had served seven small towns.
“Home for the summer from school. I wouldn’t be here if I had found any other way. What about you?” I remembered how her parents reacted when we’d started dating. To my face they’d been cordial and nice, but I could tell under the surface they weren’t okay with it. They just weren’t as blatant as mine.
“I’m staying with my cousin, Anna, and her girlfriend. She got me the job here.” She nodded and picked at a little rust spot on the table.
“I’m not with Trick. I know I said that, but the look on your face said that you thought we were together. She’s just the only friend I know around here who knows what it’s like to be queer. She was a few years ahead of us in school. Do you remember her?” Oh, shit. Yeah. She went by a different name then, which I couldn’t recall off the top of my head, and she hadn’t had any of the tattoos, but now she was ringing a distant bell in my memory.
“Yeah, now I remember.” She breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m not seeing anyone. Not that you asked or wanted to know. But I’m not.” I didn’t ask and I didn’t need to know. But still. A knot in my stomach started to loosen.
“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, tell me what you’ve been up to. I mean, I stalk you on Facebook, and I thought about sending you messages so many times.” I’d thought the same thing. But I’d never had the courage to actually send her a message. What would I have said? Hey, remember how we broke up and you shattered my heart, so, how’s it going? Not so much.
I was still on edge, but being with her was making me relax against my will. She had always been like that. When I had been in chaos and confusion, Fiona had been like gravity. She’d centered me and helped me focus and brought calm. It was something I couldn’t quantify or explain, and it was one of the reasons I’d become friends with her. That was before either of us knew we were queer. At the time, we’d just thought we were really good friends. Good friends who made out sometimes. A lot. Looking back, we’d both been adorably clueless.