At Bennet House, Will walked EJ to the door. They stood on the covered porch for a moment, looking at each other. Neither of them seemed to want to rush goodbye.
“Good luck with everything in New York,” EJ offered a little awkwardly. “I hope you can make the most of things.”
“Thanks,” he said, running his hand over his hair. “I’m nervous, but kind of excited. I hope my interview skills aren’t too rusty.”
“Pssh, you’re so telegenic, people will just be happy to look at you.”
His responding grin had a hint of bashfulness.
“Don’t give me that shy act,” EJ continued. “The sky’s blue, grass is green, you’re hot, and you dress well. Those are just facts.”
She thinks I’m hot. Will could have done cartwheels. “It’s still nice to hear.” He checked his phone for the time. And just like that he realized that he didn’t know when he’d see EJ again.
What the hell, he thought. This could be my lucky night.
“I should go, but let me put this out there: if it wasn’t clear from the drawing, I like you, EJ Davis. You’re smart, pretty, and interesting. Those are also just facts. I know this is all kind of weirdly fast since we’re in this rebuilding phase, but when I get back, I would very much like to take you on a date.”
Was she blushing? It was too dark to tell. She was smiling, though. “I would like that very much.”
“Great!” He kissed her on the cheek. She is definitely blushing. “I’ll see you soon, and we’ll be in touch.”
With great determination, Will walked calmly to the car and did not click his heels or punch the air. She waved as he drove away.
Jamie
Now that she didn’t have to deal with EJ and Will’s cold war, Jamie was finally able to focus on her own relationship. She and Lee had been getting closer now that they’d stopped being polite and started being real. They began small: she no longer feigned interest in soccer. “It’s just complicated running,” she complained. He stopped pretending to appreciate Citizen Kane.
“It’s like, I get it, but I don’t care,” he grumbled as the credits rolled.
The honesty helped them find new common ground, like their shared love of foreign films and Indian food. It also made it easy to enjoy each other’s company. Like now: they were studying together at Lee’s off-campus apartment. They sat together with their backs pressed to the opposite ends of the couch so that their legs could tangle in the middle.
She was reading over her feminist critique of Godard’s heroines on her laptop. It was in French, so Jamie was more worried about grammar than the strength of her arguments. Lee was booking flights for the Gordon Campbell Society’s Spring Break service trip. With the extra funds, they’d planned four projects this year: one near campus, one in New Orleans, and two in Puerto Rico.
Between bookings, he stretched, then hummed thoughtfully. “What do you think of Brooklyn?”
“I think it was a perfectly fine place ruined by kids who think a neighborhood can give them a personality.”
“Okay, so no Brooklyn.”
“Not if I can help it. If I were to live in New York, I’d want to be in the Village, Harlem, or Washington Heights.”
Lee stretched against his arm of the couch. “Here’s the thing: Will has this killer condo in Prospect Park, and his tenants should be out by the summer. He likes to rent to artists, and he’s not looking to make a mint on it. I’m sure we could get it for a song—not literally, but you know.”
“Wait, what?” Jamie said. She looked up sharply from the screen. “Since when are we moving in together?”
He shrugged. “We both have New York as our top post-grad destination, and it’s a very expensive city. I had a thought about how it could be less expensive. No big deal.”
Jamie glared, then took a deep breath. “Lee,” she began tersely, closing her laptop with a snap, “when you say no big deal while moving us breezily past a relationship milestone, I feel like you are pushing me—pushing us—too fast.”
Both Jamie and Lee had been going to therapy before they started puberty. She noticed that they were shaped by all that time spent in offices discussing their feelings. She was conscientious about using “I” statements. He switched entirely into “therapy mode” and leaned hard into his empathetic listening.
There was a long silence as Lee moved his laptop to the coffee table and tented his hands under his chin. “What I hear you saying is that my approach to the big steps in our relationship has caused you to feel pressured,” he restated. “Jamie, I would never intend to push you into anything you don’t want, but I feel like I have to initiate all the movement in our relationship. I mean, I asked you out. I suggested becoming exclusive. Hell, it was me who started us discussing our plans after graduation.”
Lee ran his hands through his unruly brown hair before finishing his thought. “I have to say, I feel blindsided when you say you’re feeling pressured, because this has been the pattern of our relationship—and while we’re on the subject, I’d like some help. I don’t want to feel like I’m in charge here.”
“You’re the guy! I’m going at your pace,” Jamie cried.
Lee raised an eyebrow. “That sounds both antifeminist and a little lazy.”
“Antifeminist?” Jamie exclaimed.
“And lazy,” Lee repeated, not backing down.
She huffed, untangled their legs, and stomped off to the kitchen. Suddenly she badly wanted a cup of tea. Setting down her mug with more force than strictly necessary, she turned on the electric kettle and began the hunt for something suitable. She was even willing to drink Lipton. After some fruitless searching, she opened Lee’s coffee cupboard and immediately softened. The first shelf now contained not only her favorite teas (Earl Grey, chai, and rooibos) but also had cube sugar and cans of evaporated milk, which she preferred to cream. She remembered then that even when Lee was pedantic and slightly presumptuous, he was still a sweetheart.
Jamie prepared tea and returned to the couch, picking up where they left off.
“I don’t think I am being old-fashioned,” she said softly into the hostile silence. “I was just following the culture of dating at Longbourn. Gay or straight, I’ve seen guys drop really nice people at the slightest hint of feeling tied down. They don’t like that kind of thing.”
Lee groaned. “Okay, this—this is a thing you do that drives me nuts,” he said with audible frustration. “You’re not dating some member of a mysterious masculine horde. You’re dating me, Lee Gregory. Lee, who you know craves stability, who appreciates being able to be open about his feelings. Usually, you remember that—” He paused and wrinkled his brow. Then with a perceptiveness that would one day make him a great therapist, he said, “You don’t start speaking in generalities unless you’re hedging. What aren’t you saying?”
Jamie was quiet for some time. “Okay, this—us—has been so amazing, and you’ve been wonderful. But everything has happened in a pretty darn inclusive space, and . . . I know the rest of the world isn’t like that.” She shifted closer to him. “I’m afraid when you’re making these leaps in our relationship, you’re making promises you can’t keep. And that expecting you to keep them, especially after graduation, would be expecting too much.” A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. Lee moved quickly to her side to brush it away. She took his hand and kissed it.
“Jamie, I know that I can’t understand everything that goes into being trans, but remember I’m mixed, and my mom is black. Hollywood, especially at her level, is still very much ruled by the old guard, so I have a sense of the many ways people can be hostile about who you are or who you love. Fighting against that was one of the few things that held my parents together for so long. And Longbourn isn’t immune. I’ve gotten hostility about us from some unexpected corners.” Lee gave a one-shouldered shrug. “It sucks, but it simplifies things: I know who my true friends are—or at least, I know who is worthy of my time.” He squeezed her hand.
“
The point is you have to trust me to know my own mind. We can’t have a relationship if you’re walking on secret eggshells.”
“I know,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. The real issue was how the strained relationship with her mom really rattled her. Though they were on good terms now, not having her support after coming out was like crashing through the ice of a favorite skating pond. Even if something like that never happened again, she’d never forget how it felt to fall into that freezing water.
But that wasn’t Lee’s problem. It just meant that Jamie had to be brave. “Okay, I’m going to work on my trust and on actively directing our relationship.” She sat up and looked at Lee. “Let me start now. I would like more baby steps. I mean, I’m really looking forward to meeting your mother at graduation, but I don’t want to stay with you guys for the summer, and I definitely don’t want her to pull strings to land me that internship with L.A. Theatre Works.”
Jamie looked deeply into his hazel eyes. “I want to be young with you, to enjoy the fun, silly part of our relationship. I want us to live in the same city and meet for dinner and complain about our roommates, but I’m not ready for full-on domesticity. We have our whole lives for that.”
“Oh?” he said, putting his arm around her.
“Yeah. I could see us together for some time.” Jamie leaned over and kissed him sweetly. “I love you, Lee. It’s true. I do.” Lee’s face broke into the most radiant of grins.
“I love you, too! I was going to tell you this weekend, for Valentine’s Day. I had a whole thing.” He broke off suddenly and just looked at her. Then he kissed Jamie emphatically. No more studying occurred that evening. When they left for class the next day, they floated away from each other like parting clouds, held aloft by their newly discovered love.
EJ
She was squealing, loudly. “You’re in love!” EJ exclaimed after Jamie came over to tell her the story. “Oh, I’m so happy for you both!” She gave her friend a big squeeze and practically bounced off the bed. “We should celebrate! Ice cream?”
“Let’s do lunch at Cousin Nicky’s,” Jamie countered.
“Where it all began. I’m so in.”
They hopped in EJ’s car and were seated in the special rear booth. By the time their food came, the conversation had moved from Jamie and Lee to EJ and Will, much to EJ’s chagrin. There was everything and nothing to talk about.
“So what’s going on with you two?” Jamie asked.
EJ shrugged. “Not much to tell: he asked me out the night before he left, and now, we talk on the phone sometimes.”
“Lee says it’s every day.”
EJ frowned. Has it been every day?
That wasn’t good. She’d been doing her best to be cool about the whole thing. After Will left, EJ allowed herself no outward signs of giddiness. There was no dreamy strolling Disney-princess-like through the quad. No stalkerish googling pictures of Will in formal wear. No doodles of hearts crowding the corners of her notebooks. EJ’s margins were pristine. Admittedly, she may have lit up at every text from Will or stroked the place where he’d kissed her with a faint smile—but that was the limit. EJ had learned to be practical in these matters. She was determined to keep expectations low and excitement reasonable.
“All I can say now is that I like him, and he likes me. We’ll see where this goes,” EJ said before tucking into her gyro.
Jamie leaned back into the leatherette booth and sighed in exasperation. “That’s it? I’m going to need some more enthusiasm here. Like with Jordan.”
EJ gave a slight wince. “Jordan was a hookup. Will is something more. There’s no comparing the two situations.”
“‘Something more’?” Jamie echoed with a smile. “Let’s explore that.”
EJ took another bite to gather her thoughts. “Since we made up, I’ve gotten to see that he’s a good guy: smart, loyal, and a really honorable person—in addition to being intimidatingly hot. And he’s interested in an actual relationship, which I am, too.”
Jamie took a sip of her soda. “All this sounds like reasons to get excited.”
“Except I barely remember how to be in a relationship, and I know that whatever we get to have is going to be over by graduation, which is right around the corner. Cautious optimism seems to make the most sense here. There’s no sense in breaking your own heart.”
It was a phrase EJ used often, whenever she or someone she knew seemed in danger of letting their fantasies get the better of their common sense. She’d said it so much during her first year as an RA that she received a pillow embroidered with the expression as an anonymous present. Any sarcastic intent on the part of the giver(s) was overpowered by the remarkably high quality of the needlework.
“Who says everything has to be over by graduation?” Jamie asked.
EJ took a sip of her Diet Coke before responding. “Seriously, J, we haven’t even kissed yet. I doubt we’d be willing to change our lives for each other three months from now. Especially since he already has a career, and I’m building mine.”
Jamie sucked her teeth. “Always so sensible.”
EJ sat back in the booth. “I just learned that I should be a teensy bit less sensible—career-wise, anyway. I had a long conversation with Dia’s sister that really helped shift my perspective. She’s a civil engineer for the city of New York and had a lot of good advice.”
EJ had reached out to Dylann after an unsatisfactory speed-networking event from her department; only one woman turned up, and she’d graduated in the mid-1990s. Fortunately for EJ, Dylann had a similarly miserable time with her school’s career prep, and was happy to video chat about her experience.
“Thanks for taking the time to talk with me. I only get to talk with young women in the field at conferences, and even then, it’s hard to have in-depth conversations because there’s so much going on.”
Dylann nodded while adjusting her lighting. “It’s so true, and when you exchange information, it’s never the same over email or phone. Anyway, I’m glad to support another lady engineer—especially since you’ve been so great with Dia. She told me about how you helped her get that small scholarship to cover her books.”
EJ had nominated Dia for the Bennet House fund after talking with her on Hearth Night. Her parents had cut her off financially after Winter Break. They wanted her to quit the drama program, where she was thriving, and change her major to child development. Luckily for Dia, Dorothea Bennet had endowed a small fund to provide cash for Bennet House residents’ urgent needs.
“It was my pleasure. Bennet Women support each other,” EJ replied. “So I have two questions, one general and one specific.” She could see Dylann’s angle change on-screen as she leaned back in her seat.
“Got you. Fire away,” she said with a short nod.
“Okay, first, what is the most important thing someone can do after graduation to be ready for the engineering world?” EJ asked, discreetly breaking out a notepad and pen.
“If you haven’t had one, get a regular job. Office, nonoffice, it doesn’t matter as long as it helps you understand having multiple supervisors and that there is no one holding your hand—this is why it can’t be an internship. One thing I often see with new grad students or new hires is they don’t understand the working world. This is true of a lot of our newbies; the girls are judged more harshly.”
“I spent last summer temping, so I should be fine there,” EJ responded.
“Then take the summer off.” EJ frowned, but Dylann insisted. “I’m serious. Whatever offer you get, tell them you can start in September.”
“What do I do during the summer?”
“Travel. Go someplace you’ve never been. Try something new. Spend time with your family and friends. If you need a job for money, get something really part-time. Once you start working, it takes over. You won’t be able to take a real vacation for at least a year. And I think it’s important to hit a reset button and get out of the undergrad mindset. I can think of at least th
ree newish members of staff who are looking for someone to grade them.”
“The main thing Dylann said is to take the summer off before you start working, because once you start, you probably won’t stop for a while. Also, doing something cool now helps prevent burnout later.”
Jamie shoved her hair over her shoulder and then nibbled at her hummus platter. “Well, I’m in favor of anything that makes you stop and smell the roses. Do you have any ideas for what you might want to do this summer?”
EJ sat back thoughtfully, lightly squeaking against the leatherette booth. “I didn’t really have anything until this morning. I was listening to Bookends—Simon and Garfunkel—and “America” came on. It made me realize that I’d been to Spain and France, I’ve lived in Scotland, but I’ve never been farther west than Chicago. I’d still love to do a big road trip.”
Jamie raised an eyebrow. “A big American road trip?”
“Maybe a North American road trip? Mostly in Canada?” she offered.
Her friend laughed. The subject had become a sort of ongoing joke between them. EJ would suggest a road trip, they’d start planning, and then something would remind them that driving while black and trans meant they could only travel from Boston to Nashville (stopping only at major cities, of course) before running out of stores where EJ wouldn’t get followed, bars where Jamie felt safe, or restaurants that would happily serve them both—without the complimentary side eye. Jamie said they should give up the idea “until we get more cis, white friends,” but EJ couldn’t let it go. She knew that such a trip was possible, even probable with an RV. Her grandma Jackie had been big into RV camping; they went everywhere from the Smokies to the sequoias. Unfortunately, car camping was not at all Jamie’s style—even if they could afford to rent something comfortable.
EJ was investigating alternatives. “I’ve been looking at traveling by train. We did a solid three weeks on our Eurail Passes, after JYA.”
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