“Sexy,” Li Min chuckles, nodding in approval. “Vampire?”
I’m surprised. “How’d you know?”
“Sunglasses indoors, blackout curtains in the background. How’d you snag a girl like that after only six months in New York?”
“I surely don’t know,” I say, shaking my head. “But I’m not gonna ask, in case she doesn’t know either.”
Li Min closes out of my photos without snooping and starts typing their number into my contacts. “Here’s my number. You haven’t signed up with anyone, right? Don’t worry, I’m not a recruiter. I’m trying things out with the Ramblers, but I’m not sure if I’ll stay yet.”
I nod. The Ramblers are one of the bigger packs in Central Park, mostly in the mid-south by the lake. I’ve seen them run a few times when I head down from the reservoir. “Let me know how it is. It’s not so bad though, being a loner.”
Li Min nods. “Nope. Not bad. I gotta head in, but shoot me a text later?”
“For sure.”
We shake hands and wave goodbye, heading off in our separate directions. For some reason, their smell stays with me long after they’ve left. Something about it feels nice. Not in a sexual way. It’s more like…I wish I smelled like that. I wish I could walk with that kind of confidence. Looking at Li Min made me feel both really good and a little bad: good because they seem nice, but bad because I’m—jealous isn’t the right word, but it’s a weaker version of that. I’ve caught a case of jealousy’s little cousin or something.
I take my phone out again and pull up the picture of Izzy. That puts a big smile back on my face. We have a date planned for tonight, so at least I’ve got something to look forward to.
***
Work crawls by slower than sap from a sycamore tree. I can’t get comfy at my desk, and I take more coffee and pee breaks than I probably should. My eyes keep flicking toward my phone, itching with the urge to text Isabeau and Li Min. It feels like my brain’s working out a puzzle, clicking pieces together into a picture that seems clearer the longer I tinker with it. By lunchtime, my absentmindedness attracts attention.
“What’s up with you?” Colin asks as the two of us head to the elevator. Most of our coworkers are filing toward the break room where the fridge is, or heading down to the cafeteria to buy something, but we have different plans today.
“Nothin’,” I say, not too convincingly.
Colin gives me a skeptical look but doesn’t call me out ‘til we’re in the elevator and the doors are shut. “Seriously, though. You look like someone kicked your puppy.”
“Do not,” I grumble, popping the tab of my tupperware lid on and off without actually opening it. “And if that’s your best dog joke today, you’ve gotta up your game.”
“Fine. Then you look like you got stumped by the Times crossword. You’ve got cartoon question marks floating over your head.”
I sigh. He’s right. And really, Colin’s probably not a bad person to talk to about this. It’s not like we don’t have precedent—he’s the one who told me where to get my binder. “Well…”
The elevator stops and opens onto the top floor. Colin and I head over to the maintenance staircase that leads up to the roof. We step outside once we get to the top, and the sky showers us in pale sunlight through a thin layer of clouds. Working here isn’t perfect, but this is one of the perks: the building is tall enough to make the loud traffic noises below us sound far away, but not so tall that the wind is a problem most days. We sit down with our backs against the large metal AC unit, where we’re the most sheltered.
“Well?” Colin pops open his lunch, and I salivate at the smell of shrimp. It’s raw, of course, but for a werewolf, that ain’t exactly a deterrent.
“Can I have some of that? I’ll trade ya.”
“Depends. What’d you bring?”
I pop open the tupperware. “Beef.”
“Just a couple pieces. I’m not gonna let you scarf down my whole lunch.”
I know beef isn’t Colin’s favorite—seals aren’t exactly known for eating cows—but I decide to let him be nice to me, because I’m really jonesing for a bite of his shrimp. I scoop up the pieces he offers me and pass over my container, so he can grab himself a chunk of my lunch.
“Stof distahctin meh,” he mumbles through a partially full mouth. He swallows, then says, “What’s going on, huh?”
“Met someone at the park this morning.”
Colin’s blond eyebrows shoot up. “Someone? I thought things were going great with you and Isabeau.”
“They are,” I insist, a little sulkily. At least, they are on my end, and Izzy hasn’t had any complaints so far. I shake off the lack of confidence. “It’s not that. It’s…they were really cool.”
“They?”
“Li Min. They’re a Rambler.”
“So, nonbinary ‘they’?”
I shrug. “Guess so.”
“Ah.” Colin gives me a smug look, like he knows something. I roll my eyes and take my beef back from him so I can pick at it. Suddenly, I’m not as hungry as I thought I was. “Why is that bothering you, though? I thought you’d be happy to meet another nonbinary person.”
“I mean, I don’t know if I am. At least, not compared to Li Min. They were really proud of it. Had a they/them pin and everything. They even smelled different, kinda like they were on a low dose of hormones?”
“You don’t have to compare yourself to Li Min,” Colin says. “You don’t have to use gender neutral pronouns or take a low dose of T. And you don’t have to come out to everyone if you don’t want to, either. If you do all those things, that’s great, but there isn’t a list you have to check off to qualify.”
“But—”
“There is no but. I won’t claim to know what it’s like being nonbinary, but I do know for sure there isn’t just one way to do it. You have to figure out Riley’s way.”
It sounds so easy when he says it but hearing it and feeling it deep in my gut are two different things. I can’t even tell whether the churning there is hope or fear of failure.
“I think the hardest part is…I’m not ready to give up everything about being a girl. I mean, I like being a lesbian. I’m proud of it.”
“So? Be a lesbian too.”
“But if I’m nonbinary, I’m not a girl, so can I even call myself that?”
“Who says you can’t? Gender’s a grab bag, Riley. Grab what you want from all the bags.”
“I dunno. Sometimes it feels weird, like I’m betraying women by saying I don’t wanna be one of them. I love women—”
“Trust me, I know,” Colin laughs. When he notices I’m still frowning, he lowers his voice. “Hey, I’m not trying to be flippant or anything. It was hard for me too. This shit is complicated to figure out. Have you talked about it with Izzy?”
Izzy. That’s a whole other kettle of fish. “Yeah, kinda. She knows I, uh…have feelings about some of my parts. One time she said she would use different pronouns if I wanted.”
“Hey, that’s great. Your girlfriend’s supportive.”
“Yeah.” I crack a small smile. “But what would I be if I’m not her girlfriend?”
“Besides incredibly depressed?”
I growl at him. “For serious.”
“Fine, fine. What about her werefriend?”
“Werefriend?” It sounds kind of dumb the first time I say it, but when I toss the word around in my head, it starts to feel less weird. “Hm. Maybe.”
“Try it if you want,” Colin says. “If you don’t like it, stop.”
I flop my head back against the AC unit with a low metallic thud. “It’s really that easy?”
Colin finishes his shrimp and leans his head on my shoulder. “Easy? No. Simple? Yeah. You won’t know which parts of the grab bag you wanna keep and which to toss back unless you go fishing.”
“Easy for you to say. You can actually fish.”
Colin smirks. “Well, I can hold my breath for an impressively long time. So, if I
zzy has any hot friends…”
I roll my eyes. “Shut up.”
Both of us are quiet for a while. Then I lean my head closer to his and say, “Thanks, Col.”
“You’re welcome, Riley. For the record, I think you’re awesome.”
***
It takes me another week to work up the guts to talk to Izzy. Telling her should be easy, since she already kind of knows, but it isn’t. Not even a little. When I show up on the front steps of her building on Thursday, my knees are wobbling like jello and my hands are sweating in my pockets despite the nippy autumn wind. When she opens the door, all I can offer is a sheepish grin and a weak, “Hey there, beautiful.”
Luckily, that seems to be enough to charm her. “Hey yourself, handsome,” Izzy drawls, looking me up and down. I fidget with my collar. I’ve left the sweater vests at home for once and I’m wearing one of my only blazers over a slightly wrinkled blue shirt. I was in too much of a tizzy to iron it before I left home—not that I usually remember to iron anything anyway.
I gulp, all too aware how long each of my stares lasts. I want to drink Isabeau in, but I don’t want to be all awkward about it. From bottom to top, Izzy’s got on fuzzy boots, thick grey stockings, a powder-blue poodle skirt (complete with an actual poodle appliquéd onto it), a button-up white top, and a striped blue-and-white knitted cap with her curly hair spilling out the sides. She looks adorable, but then again, I can’t remember a time when she hasn’t looked adorable.
“So…” Izzy tilts onto her toes and places a soft kiss in the middle of my mouth. It’s brief, but I get to kiss her back for a moment before she pulls away. “You ready to see where I’m taking you?”
The kiss gives me a jolt of heat and confidence. Colin’s probably right—maybe this won’t be so bad. And I don’t have to talk about it tonight if I don’t want to. “You bet. Subway?”
“Cab,” Izzy says.
I rub the back of my neck. “You don’t have to spend that much on my account.”
Izzy just laughs. “Maybe it’s because I want to make out with you on the way, mon chou.”
My face burns, but not in an unpleasant way. It’s a cute nickname, even though it is a little embarrassing to be compared to a creampuff—which Izzy insists I look like as a wolf. “If you’re sure.”
“Come on. Let’s go on an adventure. You can redeem your makeout points in the cab, or when we get home later.”
I take Izzy’s chilly hand in mine, hoping she won’t mind the sweat. At the very least, the heat radiating from my palm should keep hers warmer. “Lead the way.”
We walk hand in hand down the steps and over to the street. Izzy doesn’t live on a heavily trafficked road, by New York City standards, but a cab comes along before we’ve strolled more than a minute. She hails, rolling her eyes as the first one passes by. I throw up my hand for the next one to save her the trouble.
“Taking bets. Do you think that first was one a race thing, a species thing, or because he didn’t see me?” Izzy asks with a long-suffering sort of amusement.
“Dunno, but I’ll take a bet on whether the cabbie gives me a dirty look once he gets a load of my ears and teeth.”
To my relief, Izzy laughs. “I’m not made of money, and I’m already buying you dinner.”
It turns out we’re both wrong, because our cabbie happens to be a troll. His bright shock of braided orange hair is a blinding contrast to his blue skin. “Where to, ladies?”
I feel a strange pang when he says ‘ladies’, but I push it down and look at Izzy.
“The Botanical Gardens, please.” She slides in, and I scooch next to her, closing the door behind me.
“Can do.”
Our cab pulls back into traffic, and I take Izzy’s hand again. “So, why the Gardens?”
“You’ve never been there, right?”
“Nope. Not exactly a safe spot for wolves to run.”
Izzy aims a sly smile in my direction. “Then it’s a good thing we’re not running, isn’t it?”
My mouth goes dry at the heated look she’s giving me, but I’m saved from answering by a buzz in my pocket. I fish out my phone and glance at the screen. It’s Li Min. We’ve been texting the past few days, mostly me texting them with annoying questions in the middle of the night. That’s when my brain has too much time to wander…and worry.
Li Min: ‘Have you talked to Izzy?’
I squirm with guilt. Even though I’m not lying, it feels weird to be sitting on this not-so-secret information when Izzy is right next to me. I put the phone to sleep and shove it back in my pants.
“Everything all right, mon chou?”
It takes deliberate control not to wince. Izzy’s looking at me with such soft worry in her eyes, but her concern only makes my stomach churn. Usually, just being in her presence is relaxing, and dates with her are fun and exciting. I hope she doesn’t feel as off tonight as I do, because this is all my fault anyway.
“Yup,” I tell her, struggling to sell the lie. “A new friend I made at the park.”
Izzy’s outlined eyebrows lift with interest. “New friend?” Her voice isn’t accusatory, but I know her history. Her last serious girlfriend really did a number on her trust. Now that we’re exclusive, it makes sense she’d be a little skittish.
“Not my type.”
“I wasn’t saying—”
“I know, just heading it off at the pass. Li Min’s…well, have you ever been drawn to someone, only it’s not romantic? More like you admire them, or…I dunno, want to be like them?”
Izzy relaxes. “You mean hero worship?”
I pull a face. “That’s a little extreme. They’re just someone I ran into last week.”
“They?”
Dammit. Girl cuts to the chase quicker than a knife through hot butter. I give playing it cool one more try. “Yup.”
Izzy remains thoughtful for the next two minutes, but her hand creeps over to rest above my knee. Even though I’m nervous going on terrified, I don’t move it. Part of me wants the contact.
Don’t be stupid, I try and tell myself. You know she won’t care. She came right out and said so before. But the voice in my head doesn’t do much to calm my racing heart. It feels like a hundred horses galloping at once.
We pull up to the curb, and the cabbie parks. While Izzy thanks him and pays our fare. It doesn’t feel right, letting my lady pay, but I did promise to let her treat me. I hop out of the cab and stretch my legs. They’re full of restless energy. I wish I could shift and take off running. Not away from Izzy, exactly, just…somewhere.
“Riley?” Izzy’s waiting on the curb, one arm extended. “You sure you’re all right?”
I take a deep breath and take her hand. “Yeah. I bet it’ll be real pretty.”
“It will,” Izzy says, sounding a bit smug.
“Hmm?”
“You’ll see.”
The two of us stroll in under a big white sign set atop a pair of stone pillars. Izzy flashes a smile and a pair of tickets at the attendant, and he opens the chained gate for us. Beyond, I see something I’m not expecting. I was prepared for some beautiful rows of flowers, probably some trees and water features, but I’m looking at something else instead—a bunch of beautiful glass sculptures that glow from within. They’re like sea anemones captured in freeze-frame, curling tendrils stuck in place, but giving the illusion of movement.
The more I look, the more sculptures I see. There aren’t only two or three of these things, they’re all over the place, lining the sidewalks and illuminating the flowers. It’s like I stepped into an early rainbow Christmas.
“Whoa,” I say, looking around more than a little slack-jawed. “I got a Southernism for this, but it’s kinda stupid.”
Izzy sidles up closer to me. “Let me hear it.”
“Back home, we’d call something like this ‘prettier ‘n a new set of mud tires.'”
Izzy cracks up, and my heart grows wings. Things feel good again.
“Prettier
than a new set of mud tires. Elyse will love that one.”
“Wait, you’ve been telling your best friend all my dumb similes?”
“Yes.” Izzy flutters her lashes. “Is it silly that your knowing the difference between a simile and a metaphor turns me on?”
I exhale a cloud of breath. “Naw. But don’t tell her how goofy I am right away. You gotta ease her into it. Otherwise, she’ll think I’m an idiot when she meets me.”
“She won’t,” Izzy insists. “I didn’t.”
“Heaven knows why. I, well…uh, words. I jumble ‘em.”
“It’s cute.” She gives my hand a squeeze, and we start walking down one of the paths. The sculptures are perfect, because they cast the flowers in beautiful glowing lights without making Izzy wince or take out her sunglasses. Dark and light don’t matter much to a wolf’s eyes, but I’m happy she’s comfortable.
“Riley?”
“Yeah?”
“Not to poke a sleeping bear…don’t look at me like that.”
I grin anyway. “Not exactly Southern, but you’re gettin’ the hang of it.”
“Anyway, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but what about Li Min made you want to be their friend right off the bat?”
She knows. I know she knows, but the words are still lodged stubbornly in my throat. Come on, Riley, I growl in my own head. Stop being such a chicken. She asked about your pronouns. She knows you wear a binder. Colin’s right, she’s not gonna judge you.
But I’m still judging myself. I let go of Izzy’s hand, shuffling over to a bench a few feet away and slumping down onto it. She sits next to me, and though she starts to reach out, she doesn’t touch me right away.
“Riley” she says, in a low and soothing voice, “you know I’m queer, right?”
I blink in surprise. “What?”
“I mean, I usually round up to lesbian because it’s simpler, but my sexuality has a little more nuance than that. If someone I cared about didn’t fit into a neat box, I’d understand.”
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