Hopeless Romantic

by Francis Gideon

  “Gymnastics,” Katie explained. “You can kind of see her leotard under the hoodie she’s wearing. This was taken after a regional championship.”

  Nick nodded along, quickly spotting the flashes of pink buried under the grey hoodie. It was the background of the photo that caught most of his attention. The photo had clearly been taken indoors, and a thin kid was crumbled on a couch in the corner of the shot. Giant headphones were on his ears, and he was holding a yellow Walkman in his lap.

  “Randall?” Nick asked.

  “No.” Katie laughed, low and throaty. “Definitely me. I’m about fifteen there, though I look more like twelve since I was perpetually hunched over and wearing too-big shirts. This is the summer after going to monster truck rallies with Randall and before I started my grade-ten year. You’re witnessing me discover the glory that is punk music, pretty much. That entire summer all I did was hunch over my Walkman and listen to all the tapes I could find or steal from the corner store. I’m pretty sure everyone in my small town knew I stole them, but no one wanted to fight me. I was tough, back in the day.”

  “You still are now. Just . . . a different kind of toughness. You could sucker punch any guy at a party if he tried to feel you up. Or was just an asshole. You probably don’t need a reason.”

  “Hell yes. Which reminds me—keep going. There are a few more childhood and awkward teenage shots in this album, but I want you to see the ones near the end. The bragging photos.”

  Nick had to admit he was intrigued by this. As much as he wanted to dwell a little longer on images from Katie’s childhood, like her sitting with her grandmother in Florida, or Katie being swarmed by a litter of puppies, or standing in line with her sister and brother to meet Santa Claus at a Christmas show, Nick skipped past them to the end.

  “Okay, stop here,” Katie said. There was a shot of a crowd from a concert, but the lighting was so poor Nick couldn’t make out much else. “These are all photos from when I started going to shows. There are a couple photos of me with musicians, like Blink 182. I met them when I was about sixteen and nearly lost my shit. But if you keep swiping, you’ll find some photos from when I was on Warped Tour. That is my real pride and joy. I met so many awesome musicians there. Even went out drinking with a couple, and I may have made out with one or two.”

  “Who?” Nick asked, not an ounce of jealously in his tone. He merely wanted to know what bands he had probably loved as a kid who were also kind of gay. “This is very important information for my teenage self.”

  “I can’t reveal names. But I’ll touch my nose when they are there.”

  “Okay, deal.” Nick turned his attention back towards the phone. The first few from concerts were inconsequential. A couple from Midtown, a couple from Jimmy Eat World, but there was no actual meeting of any bands until Blink 182. Katie had been young then, with short hair and an angry smile that seemed a little brighter when Mark Hoppus had his hand on her shoulder. She’d been with her best friend at the time, a kid named Markus, who’d also seemed completely over the moon as Tom DeLonge stood next to him.

  “We were so gay,” Katie said with a slight crack to her voice. “But so in denial. I didn’t date anyone while I was in high school and neither did Markus. We just hung out with each other and sometimes fooled around. While he went off to university to become a doctor and forget all his urges, I went to Warped Tour . . . and finally let go.”

  Nick moved on to those images next. Katie had started out as a volunteer for the show, gradually working her way up to the status of a roadie. Images of her with MxPx and NOFX as a fan slowly transitioned into her as a worker. She was wearing black cargo shorts and a backwards baseball hat in most photos. Her straight dark hair was a little past her ears, but swooped to the sides. She was skinny in her oversized T-shirts that displayed any random band, so many that Nick couldn’t keep track of them anymore. There were a couple shots of her rigging up some wire, checking amps, and then her and another guy, Davis, sitting on the sidelines and watching bands like Thursday, Fall Out Boy, and early Say Anything play on stage. Occasionally, Nick would raise his eyebrows at a musician, asking if Katie had made out with him. When the answer kept being no and more no, Nick grew frustrated and pretty much begged Katie to show him. When she finally skimmed back to the earlier photos and pointed out the musicians directly, Nick’s mind rested easier knowing.

  “Happy now?” Katie said. “I’m pretty sure that’s all of them.”

  “I am. If not really fucking envious.”

  “Eh. They weren’t that good. Most were too wasted and never called in the morning. People on Warped Tour are fucking weird. There are so many drugs, so much sex, and it’s all during summer. So much shit goes down, and yet, everyone is always busy in spite of most people only playing for thirty minutes each day.”

  There were a few places where Katie skimmed over some details of the photograph, her embarrassment clear and her voice shaky, but Nick could tell it wasn’t just because she had been presenting as a man then. This had also been the time of Katie’s life when she’d been drunk or high a lot of the time. Her third tour as a roadie, when she’d been about twenty-two and had really, really long hair, and was too skinny to be healthy, she had pretty much reached her limit.

  “I just . . . I hated everything. I kept getting shitty tattoos, getting high, or fucking whoever was willing. Then I found the straight-edge music and changed my attitude entirely. I got off Warped and started going to political shows. And let me tell you, doing a concert sober is so different.”

  “Easier?”

  “In a way, yeah, but it made me realize that I couldn’t keep doing things the way I was. I could only stay sober for so long before I realized I didn’t need to join the Animal Alliance, but I needed to get on hormones.”

  Nick went to swipe the phone, only to realize the album ended there. After touring with a political band, she’d gone back to Warped Tour one last time. She’d been invited on stage by the singers and helped them to scream the chorus of their last song. The concert photo album ended with that set, because the next day, Katie had applied for several doctors’ waiting lists so she could transition. She’d been twenty-four years old.

  “But I had known there was a word for what I was since I was twenty. Just took that long to build up to everything and finally leave the tours I loved so much.”

  “You know,” Nick said as he handed back her phone. “I think we were probably at the same Warped shows. I recognized a lot of those bands, and if you were in your early twenties, I was probably just out of high school.”

  “Probably. If you went at all to see these bands, I was on stage setting them up. I’m glad we didn’t meet then, though.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I . . . I was terrible to be around.” Katie tried to smile, but there was clear pain as she combed her hair behind her ears. “I was an elitist dick who was drunk all the time, or high and mighty when I was sober. I treated people like crap because I felt like crap. It wasn’t all bad, but the last two years before transitioning were awful. I would go from being so elated because I was working with music, doing what I loved, and then come crashing down again the next morning because I would never be Joan Jett, even if I wanted to. The entire summer and most of the year would be a constant battle from high to low, low to high, again and again. So I’m glad you didn’t meet me then. You would have been . . . a high I wanted to keep, but couldn’t.”

  Nick nodded, understanding. He had never struggled with addiction, or the kind of heavy mental issues Katie was describing, but he could relate to what he knew, which was always running into people who liked him, but never wanted to be serious.

  “Well, I’m glad I met you now. Seems like much better timing, because I like the person you are now.”

  “Good. Because I really like you too. And I wanted to show you who I used to be, even if that person still feels like a hangover regret.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  “Like
I said . . .” When Katie spoke, her voice was shaky like it was whenever she wanted to make a point. “This time period wasn’t all bad—but I don’t show people a lot of the photos, not because I want to break away from that life, but because it’s just easier for people to meet me on my terms now. I’m a woman. I’m so much happier this way. But . . . I’ve learned from that life that keeping secrets never works. So here you go. Me as a kid, me as a teenager, and me in my early twenties. I have some early transition photos too, but they’re not as dramatic.”

  Katie tried to laugh again, but Nick could see how serious she was. This act was a gift. Nick needed to respect that, and not let it cloud his worldview of her. In a blink, he saw Katie as a young boy who hated basketball, as a teen who loved Blink 182, and then as an adult who really, really wanted to do something with music because nothing else made sense. But Nick also saw her now, in his living room, in the middle of a pillow fort they had made with her hair still slightly damp from a shower after swimming all night.

  In all of these worlds, she was beautiful.

  “I . . .” Nick wanted to tell her he loved her. It was no longer a question of I think I’m falling for you; it was I am so deeply in love with you it’s terrifying. But he couldn’t open his mouth. She already knew how he felt. And he could only hope one day she’d say it back too.

  “Shhh.” Katie pulled Nick into a hug. “You don’t need to say anything, Nick. You’re so wonderful. I’ve had such a good time here.”

  “Right. Me too. My parents are coming back soon, aren’t they? Like tonight at seven?”

  Katie laughed. “Did you even read their itinerary? The notes they left?”

  “Um.”

  Katie shrugged. “I guess that’s what I’m here for, right?”

  “No. You’re here for so, so much more.” Nick wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug, and waited for a moment. In the silence, he swore he heard a car door open and close—but nothing else came from it. It was barely four in the afternoon, so if he remembered correctly, they still had at least three hours to spare. But in between those three hours, he wasn’t going to clean up and hide Katie away. His parents were going to meet her here. There was no more room to doubt that anymore.

  “Come on,” Nick said. “As much as I want to lie down here with you all day, we should start cleaning.”

  Felix’s head bounced up again, eyeing both of them with wide eyes.

  “And yes,” Nick said, “a treat for you too.”

  At around six o’clock, Nick made them coffee. They had finished packing up their stuff fifteen minutes earlier and the house was cleaned to the best of their ability. Felix had already been walked and fed. When a thin silence spread between them, Nick figured coffee would be an optimal distraction. Just as Nick set down mugs for them, Felix started to bark. He rushed towards the porch. Nick knew his parents were home.

  “What should I say?” Katie asked. “When I meet them? Am I your friend, like with Beverly?”

  “You’re my girlfriend,” Nick said, his voice calm and even. “And that’s what I’ll tell them.”

  Katie nodded, but her face was still strained. Her apprehension was not about him. Nick knew this, but he still repeated it to himself as he met his parents on the porch.

  “Nick!” His mother set down her suitcase right away and threw her arms around him in a tight hug. “How have you been?”

  “Great.” Nick turned to his father next, extending a hand. “Hey, Dad.”

  “Nick. Thank you so much for watching the house.”

  “Not at all.” After Nick helped them with the rest of their bags, Nick spotted Katie in the doorway of the kitchen. He waved a hand over to her, telling her to come.

  “Who is this?” Nick’s mom asked. She glanced from Katie, to Nick, and back to Katie again. Nick’s mother’s gaze was acute, but kind. She assessed Katie in the very same way she’d assessed Barry and even Alex when she first met them. Katie had put on her white top with the long hem over tight black jeans. Her hair was pinned back behind her shoulders and she wore the same purple eye shadow Nick was growing to love.

  “This is Katie,” Nick introduced. “She stayed with me this week and helped with the dog.”

  “Really? Well, that’s great. Nice to meet you, Katie.” Nick’s mother stepped forward and held out a hand to Katie, which she shook eagerly. She murmured her own greetings in a muted, quiet voice—but still friendly.

  “Felix really likes her,” Nick added.

  “That’s good! Felix is a good judge of character.” Nick’s mother smiled at Katie once again, before turning back to Nick. Her brows were furrowed curiously, but she didn’t say anything else.

  “Katie, this is my dad.” Nick gestured towards his father. His dad stepped forward and extended his hand to Katie politely, but then gestured back at Nick.

  “He’s terrible at introductions, isn’t he? I’m David and my wife is Susan. You’re Katie, but is that short for anything, dear?”

  “Katherine.”

  “I’m not that terrible at introductions.” Nick slid next to Katie and put a hand on her waist. “But I should have said something sooner, because she’s my girlfriend. I only wanted to be sure before telling you both.”

  “To be sure?” Nick’s mother looked from him and Katie and back again. Katie was tense under Nick’s palm, so he rubbed her back to calm her nerves.

  “Is this—” his father started, but Nick cut him off.

  “Not a phase. I was gay before, and now I’m with Katie, and those are two different things but both are not phases. I know it may seem weird, but this is . . .”

  “Oh, wow.” Katie laughed. “I think your dad is right, Nick. You’re terrible at introductions.”

  “I like her,” his father said.

  Nick let out a low laugh, sudden relief flooding his system. If this was the worst thing people could say, then everything would be fine. “Well, in that case, I’m terrible at introductions. But I am good at making coffee. How about everyone come inside and sit down and we can talk more if we need to?”

  Everyone exchanged looks before nodding an enthusiastic yes.

  With some coffee, and a couple of glasses of wine from the bottles his parents had brought back with them, Nick knew that he could get his parents on board with anything. And as soon as the pressure was alleviated, Katie could work her charm.

  When they found out she was getting her art degree, his mom and dad were completely enthralled. Katie pulled out her phone to show them a few photos of the things she was working on. They made the appropriate fawning noises over her sculptures, her portraits, and even the study in negatives. When his parents mentioned some of the places they visited in Boston and Katie had her own anecdotes from visiting many of the same towns on tour, Nick knew she’d won his parents’ approval. There would probably be a few emails sent back and forth between his mom and himself, and maybe a late-night phone call to his father to explain his sudden shift in interest, but that was fine. Nick could deal with that.

  Soon, his mother had downed three glasses of wine and glanced at the time with a shocked expression. “Oh my. We’ve kept you both so long. Should you stay for dinner?”

  Nick glanced over to Katie, and she shrugged. “It’s up to you, Nick.”

  There was some strain around Katie’s eyes, and Nick was also pretty desperate to get back home to his apartment. Now that his parents were back in the house, it no longer felt like their domestic palace—but his parents’ place.

  “Dinner is a nice offer, but we should head back soon anyway if we want to catch the bus,” he said. “We can grab something at the station.”

  “Bus?” his father said. “Why are you taking a bus?”

  “Yeah, where is your car, sweetheart?” his mother asked. “I didn’t see it in the driveway. Is everything okay?”

  “Oh. Long story.” Nick laughed. “My car got fried a while ago. It’s been fixed, but I’ve been avoiding picking it up because the bill is stee
p. New battery and brakes. You know how it is.”

  “Sweetie,” his mother said. “Why didn’t you tell us? We would have given you bus money to get here. And bus money back.”

  “Yeah, of course.” His father reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet. Nick’s hands sprung up right away.

  “No. Mom, Dad, you don’t have to.”

  Katie reached under the table slowly and gripped Nick’s knee. She gave him several firm squeezes, as if to remind him of their earlier conversation. It is okay to ask for help. You need to let some people help. Nick sighed as his father counted out several twenties. “Is this all right? For the two of you to get back tonight?”

  Nick didn’t bother to count up the twenties before he nodded. “Yes, of course. It’s all fine. Thank you.”

  “Good. Now tell me about the car. Are you sure you’re seeing a reputable mechanic?”

  “Yeah. I’m going with Greg, and he’s not charging me full price for service hours since we used to date. He’s also been keeping the car hostage until I pay the bill, but hey, I deserved that. Should have paid by now. I will pay, really, as soon as we’re back.”

  “Well. Next time, consult with me? Actually . . .” Nick’s dad pushed himself away from the table. “Would you mind explaining the issue to me outside? We can use my car as an example.”

  “Um.” There was something about his dad’s question he couldn’t decipher. He glanced back at Katie, who only rolled her eyes.

  “I’ll be fine. Do what you gotta do. I still have my coffee to finish.”

  Nick nodded and left Katie alone with his mother, who began talking in excited whispers to Katie about all things to do with Shannon’s upcoming wedding. As soon as Nick and his dad were in the garage, Nick knew this conversation wasn’t going to be about cars.

  “I have to say, Nick, I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “When I’d have car troubles?”

  His father narrowed his eyes. “No. Katie.”

  “Yes. She’s great. A surprise, but great.”