Chapter 9: Interlude II

It’s getting late and I should probably head for bed soon, but I have a cat, so I’m stuck. I’m curled up on the couch reading effects pedal reviews on my phone and Zatanna is curled up on me.

I showered again after a supper of freezer pizza and found what I believe to be yoga pants and an oversize lightweight sweatshirt that says, “Don’t talk to me till I’ve had my coffee!” in one of the bags of clothes. I figured that will do for pajamas for now as I feel like I can do a little better than my former bedtime attire of boxers and a threadbare t-shirt.

“Hey, can I join you?” asks Dave as he comes into the living room. I pat the couch next to me and he sits down. There’s a not-entirely-awkward silence and then he says, “It suits you. Your new look, I mean.”

“Which one?” I ask.

“Well, both, I guess. It’s badass having a demon in our band. There are so many metal bands that would be very jealous.”

“And an angel now too,” I remind him.

“Yeah, June is cool.” A pause. “But I mean it. Like I said, I wasn’t expecting you to show up at the door being all”—he gestures vaguely at me—“hot and stuff. But it kinda makes sense in a weird way.”

“Well, thanks for being cool about it. I know we maybe aren’t like super close, but your opinion matters to me.”

“No offense, but you haven’t been the easiest person to get close to. I’ve shared some personal stuff with you and you’ve always been a good listener, but it’s been kind of a one-way street, you know?”

“None taken. You’re right. I realized last night that I’ve been trying to be somebody I’m not, and the only way to do that was to keep people at arm’s length.”

Zatanna chooses this moment to go off and do cat things, so I shift around and sit up because I’ve been getting stiff.

“I feel like I should have gotten it all figured out a long time ago,” I say. “But when I was younger, it just didn’t feel like it was option, so I tried to make the best of it and that turned into a habit that didn’t do me any good and was bad for my friendships. I’m sorry.”

Saying this feels very vulnerable and I’m hugging myself tightly. Dave tentatively pats my back and I relax a fraction.

“I think sometimes we just have to figure out stuff in our own time,” he says. “So I don’t think you need to feel sorry, but if it helps, I’m not holding it against you.”

Almost without thinking, I lean against his shoulder. It doesn’t feel weird. Should it?

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“Is this weird?” I ask.

“I think it’s okay for friends to touch each other. You were sure cuddling with Anya a lot.” With my head on his shoulder, I can’t see his face and I’m glad he can’t see mine, because I’m sure I’m blushing.

“You’re teasing me, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, because I’m feeling this right now as entirely platonic. I’m not sure yet how to describe things with Anya, but platonic does not enter into that description.”

“Look, even though you’re hot now, I’m not into you like that. The thing that I’ve been figuring out in my own time is that maybe I’m not entirely straight and I’m crushing on someone.”

“Is this the nonbinary person at work?”

“Yeah. I didn’t recognize it at first because I’m attracted to them in a different way from how I like women.”

“You might be a little gay.”

“I might.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah. It is.”

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