7. Girl’s Night
7
Girl’s Night
Ben: At the airport.
Ben: Made it through security, and I’m at my gate.
Ben: Boarding now. I’ll text you when I land.
Ben: Flight was fine. Made it to Cait’s apartment. She says hi.
Ben: Silas?
I stared at my phone as my stomach ached. So far, I hadn’t responded to any of his texts, and I felt like such a bastard. I was still angry, but the sharpness had faded. Memories of Ben’s expression, of his broken plea for me not to give up, played on repeat inside my head, and I hated it.
So I finally typed out a reply.
Silas: I’m glad you got there safe.
My fingers typed out the three words I yearned to say, but I deleted the message without sending it. Tucking my phone away, I rested my head on the back of the couch and sighed.
I’d made plans with Esther today, but I had half a mind to cancel. Granted, sitting around feeling sorry for myself wasn’t the best course of action, so I forced myself to put on my shoes and grab my car keys. Wearing Ben’s California hoodie—since my winter coat was still at his place—I hurriedly shoveled the slushy, wet snow off the driveway before hopping in my truck.
Esther lived outside of town in an old farmhouse with a winding driveway. I’d been there only once before with Ben to drop her off, and I almost missed the turn-off for her drive. Fishtailing in the loose snow, I squealed and straightened Mabel out.
She must have heard my truck because, by the time I parked, Esther was standing on the front porch. Wearing a slim pair of jeans and a too-big black hoodie, she waved as I crawled out of the truck.
“Hey.” I hopped up the stairs and hugged her.
“Hey. You ready?” She started for the porch steps, like she was in a hurry, but a voice from inside the house made her stop.
“Jeremiah? Who’s there?”
Esther’s hands tightened into fists, veins popping against her skin for a moment. Then she exhaled and loosened her hands, fingers stretching.
“It’s Silas, Mom,” she said, voice dropping even lower and huskier than usual. “I’m hanging out at his place, remember?”
The front door opened, and a tall woman leaned her torso outside to scrutinize me. Her hazel eyes matched Esther’s, but the rest of the family resemblance was lost. She frowned at me a moment, like she’d already measured me and found me wanting, before it faded into a plastic smile.
“So this is the new friend. Come in. I’ve made cookies.”
“Mom,” Esther pleaded, but her mom ignored her.
“They’re still warm.” She waved at us enthusiastically, and I floundered.
Defeated, Esther grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the house.
“We can just leave,” I whispered the moment her mom was out of earshot.
She shook her head. “Let’s just get this over with.”
The farmhouse was warm and smelled like baked sugar, and I tucked my hands into my pockets as I followed Esther into the kitchen.
“So,” Esther’s mom said as she placed several chocolate chip cookies onto a plate, “what are you boys up to today?”
Esther’s expression was entirely blank as she gazed out the window like she hadn’t even heard her mother speak. Righteous fury burned to life in my stomach, but I wasn’t sure what to do about it. If I made a scene, would her mom not let her come with me?
“Just hanging out at my place,” I said stiffly, making no move to take a cookie.
“Well, that’s nice,” she said, another plastic smile stretching obscenely over her face. “Jer says you met at a swim meet? Are you also friends with Ronnie?”
Friends with Ronnie? This lady was delusional.
I tried to catch Esther’s gaze, but she was staring resolutely out the window, eyes a little blank.
So, because I was a petty bitch, I relaxed my stance, cocking my hip in the way Eli always did. Adopting every ounce of femme energy I could, I added flair to my inflection as I started a monologue that would put fucking Shakespeare to shame.
“No, I actually met Ronnie through my boyfriend . You know Ben, right? He’s a diver on the swim team. Yeah, we’re boyfriends. ’Cause, you know”—I leaned in, dropping my voice to an obnoxious whisper—“who can resist a boy in a Speedo, am I right?”
Esther was gaping at me, and her mom’s smile had faded. Her right eye twitched, and I grinned.
“So Ben introduced me to Esther, and I knew immediately that we were gonna be the best of friends. And now, we, like, have to go.” I grabbed Esther’s hand, waggling my eyebrows. “I have the face masks ready and Legally Blonde cued on streaming. We’re gonna paint our nails and do our hair.” I turned back to Esther’s mom, grin sharp enough to cut glass. “You know, a girl’s night. So you’ll just have to excuse us.”
Still gaping, Esther stumbled after me as I hauled her back to the front door.
“Thank you, Mrs. Esther’s Mom, for the cookies,” I trilled as we sprinted toward Mabel.
Unfortunately, another car was just pulling up and parking as we made it to my truck. A man who I assumed was Esther’s dad climbed out as the door to the farmhouse slammed shut.
“Jeremiah!” Esther’s mom shrieked, but her furious expression cooled as Esther’s dad shut his car door and frowned.
“Mary,” he barked in clear reprimand, and the woman’s face flushed. He turned to us. “Esther, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly. “We’re just heading to Silas’s house.”
Her dad turned to me, and I prayed I didn’t have to do another valley-girl performance. My throat was going to be sore; I had a new respect for Esther and anyone else who went through voice training.
But he smiled warmly at me and extended his hand. “You must be Silas. Esther’s told me about you. I’m Philip.”
I shook his hand, speaking in my normal voice. “It’s nice to meet you, Sir.”
“You’re Ben’s boyfriend, right? Or, partner? Um, sorry, I’m not sure…” he stammered a moment, his cheeks under his beard darkening.
“Boyfriend is good,” I said, giving his hand a squeeze of reassurance as I released him. “He/him pronouns and all that.”
“Right.” Philip cleared his throat. “Still learning.”
Esther’s eyes were glassy, and her smile trembled as they gazed at each other for a suspended moment.
Of course, Esther’s mom ruined the moment. “Phil, I don’t think Jeremiah should—”
“We’ll speak in a minute, Mary,” Philip said, voice harder, and Esther’s mom, Mary, returned to the house in a huff.
“Sorry, Dad,” Esther whispered, but he was already shaking his head.
“No,” he said simply, and she bit her bottom lip. “I’ll take care of it. You bo—kids have fun.”
As he passed us, he leaned in and pecked a kiss to Esther’s temple, whispering something I couldn’t hear into her hair. She blinked rapidly, Adam’s apple bobbing as she nodded. Then he was climbing the porch steps and entering the house.
“Let’s go,” she said, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her hoodie.
I drove us out of there as fast as I could without slipping in the slushy snow.
“So… girl’s night?” Esther said with a cringe as I pulled out onto the road, and I burst into laughter.
“The inspiration just hit me,” I said, and she laughed. “Should I apologize?”
Shaking her head, she buckled up and slumped back into the seat. “No, I just didn’t think your voice could go that high.”
“Well, don’t get used to it. I don’t know how you voice train and still have working vocal chords.” I made a show of coughing and clearing my throat, and she rolled her eyes.
“I don’t voice train. Mom won’t let me,” she said, her smile fading. “I mean, I follow people on social media and stuff, but actual voice training therapy from a gender clinic?”
“Is there a gender clinic around here?”
“There’s the LGBTQ center, but I haven’t been there. Mom wants me to see a psychiatrist, but like a Christian psychiatrist, not actually someone trained in gender affirming care. They’ve been fighting about that a lot lately.” Esther picked at her purple and black nail polish. “I think they’re gonna get divorced.”
“Fuck,” I said, splitting my focus between Esther and the road. “I’m sorry, Ez.”
She shrugged. “I mean, it sucks, because I know it’s my fault.”
“It’s not your fault that your mom is a—” I cut myself off, swallowing the sexist insult. “That she’s intolerant,” I amended. “And if it leads to your dad choosing you? Well, that’s how it should be. You didn’t ask for any of this. You didn’t even ask to be born. The least parents can do is love their kids unconditionally. And if they’re not prepared to do that, they shouldn’t have kids!”
Without looking at me, Esther reached across the bench seat and covered my hand on the gear stick. “Thanks, Silas.”
“You’re, like, the coolest person I know,” I said as I rolled to a stop at a red light. “And if your mom can’t see that, she’s fucking blind.”
Esther subtly swiped at her eyes as I pretended I didn’t see the tears. Like me, she was a private person, and I didn’t want to embarrass her more than she probably already was after her mother’s display of bigotry.
“It was hard for Dad at first,” she said quietly, hand still gripping mine as I shifted into first gear and pulled into the intersection. “I was his only son, you know? And he lost that. For a while, it was like someone had died. And then I realized that maybe that was okay. Because, in a way, his son had died. He should be allowed to grieve that.
“And then, one day, he brought home a purple skirt that he’d seen at Target.” She laughed, and it was wet and thick. “It didn’t fit. It was the wrong size, and it wasn’t even my style. Honestly, it’s hideous, but he said that it made him think of me and that he hoped I liked it.”
Blinking rapidly, she sniffed and cleared her throat. “And sometimes, he dead-names me without thinking about it, or uses the wrong pronouns. But he catches himself, and he apologizes. Because his son might have died, but he got a daughter in exchange. I just wish Mom could…” She shook her head. “Sometimes, I wish she’d pretend I was dead too. I’d rather be ignored than—at least then she wouldn’t treat me like a boy.”
My eyes burned, and I pulled over, parking the truck on the side of the road so I could haul her into a rough hug. She grunted in surprise but didn’t pull away. Her arms circled my waist, hands fisting in the back of my hoodie. Her exhale was shaky and wet against my neck, and I clung on tighter.
We hugged for a long time, and when we finally parted, her eyes were red but dry. I gave in to the urge to kiss her forehead, and she chuckled thickly.
“You’re exactly who you’re supposed to be,” I said, tracing the swell of her cheek. “If I was into girls, I’d totally steal you from Ronnie.”
As I hoped, a genuine smile curled over her mouth, and she laughed again. “Yeah, but you have Ben.”
My humor faded. “Right. Ben.”
Her brow furrowed, but I scooted back to my seat behind the wheel and pulled onto the road. We drove the rest of the way to my house in silence.
We didn’t watch Legally Blonde , but we did end up on the living room floor as Esther let me paint her toenails. I wasn’t very good at it, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“How are the restraining orders coming?” she asked cautiously as I globbed polish onto her big toe.
“Good, I think. The lawyers are taking care of all that stuff. I just had to sign on the dotted line.”
“You need to be careful. People like him might not care about restraining orders, so you need to watch yourself.” Her hands linked around her knees, fingers twisting tightly. “Not everyone understands the extent some people go to when they want to hurt someone.”
I sent her a concerned frown. “Is someone bothering you at school?”
She shrugged. “It’s not too bad. People talk, but they’ll always talk, so it’s whatever. I’m more worried about you and Ben.”
Wrapping my free hand around her ankle, I squeezed. “We’ll be okay, Ez. You don’t have to worry.”
“You’re my friend. I’m always going to worry,” she said. There was a pang in my chest I didn’t know what to do with, so I pressed my forehead to her shin and sighed when she scratched her nails over my scalp.
I didn’t know why the truth clawed its way up my throat, but when it wriggled out between my lips, I didn’t stop it. “He assaulted me,” I said, and Esther’s hand in my hair froze. “The guy who took that picture. He, uh, cornered me in the boys’ bathroom a couple months ago and… Ben stopped him before he could—you know. But he’s been fucking with me ever since.”
She didn’t say anything. Because what could she say? But her hand resumed running through my hair, fingers quaking slightly.
So I said, “We can’t prove it, so we can’t charge him. So he’s just gonna get away with it. And I’m so angry, Ez. I’m so fucking angry, but I’m scared too. Not just for me, but for Ben. And I don’t know what to do.”
This time, Esther was the one to yank me up and into a painful embrace. The nail polish toppled, but I ignored it, pressing my face to her shoulder. Her hold was strong, and I shuddered against her.
“Ben and I are fighting,” I confessed. “Ever since that picture was released, we’ve been fighting about everything. About Boyt and the lawyers. I lied to him about some stuff, and he’s been lying to me.
“We had a huge fight last night, and now he’s in California with his ridiculously attractive ex-boyfriend who has the voice of a phone sex operator. And I just don’t know if I can do this anymore.”
She made a low shushing noise in the back of her throat, and I swallowed the word vomit. “Okay, that’s a lot. Um, I don’t—I’m sorry, Silas. I’m sorry that happened to you and that it keeps happening. That’s so messed up. But maybe the restraining orders will make a difference. That’s a real legal ramification for his actions, you know? I get that it doesn’t feel like enough because it’s not. But it could be enough for him to back off, right?”
We both knew she was grasping at straws, but we didn’t admit it.
“Secondly, Ben loves you. I might not have known him long before he met you, but he’s different with you, okay? He’s settled into his skin, and the way he looks at you.” She huffed, like words were failing her. “He loves you, and even if he’s hanging out with his ex—”
“He tells Patrick everything, apparently. Because Patrick is such a great friend,” I said waspishly. “Ben told him about Boyt and me. He told him about his—” I bit my tongue.
No, I wouldn’t go there. Of all the things Ben held back, I couldn’t hold his mom’s death—suicide?—against him. That wasn’t about me.
“Everything is so fucked up, and I feel helpless,” I finally said. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Me, neither,” Esther whispered. “Did you guys… break up?”
I shook my head against her shoulder. “I don’t think so. We fought, and I left angry. But we didn’t break up. We didn’t.”
“Then maybe the space is good.” She loosened her hold when I pulled away, voice hopeful. “You two have the weekend to cool down and get your thoughts in order. It could be good.”
I nodded and wiped my nose on the back of my hand. “Yeah, for sure. It’ll be fine. People fight, right? It doesn’t—everything’ll be fine.”
We stared at each other, neither willing to call out the lie.
Esther stayed the night. After a long phone call with her dad, she hung up with a sardonic smile and rolled her eyes.
“He’s afraid you’re going to seduce me or something,” she said, and I snorted.
“He knows I’m gay, right?”
She shrugged. “Yeah, but he’s still struggling with the whole genitals-doesn’t-equal-gender and stuff.”
I blew a raspberry. “Don’t worry, Ezzy, your virtue is safe with me.”
When we headed upstairs to get ready for bed, I hesitated on the threshold of my room. Esther walked in without a second thought, only pausing when she noticed me hovering in the doorway.
“What?” she asked, and I grimaced.
“I haven’t slept in here since it happened,” I admitted, and her face softened.
“Oh. Do you wanna sleep somewhere else?”
I shook my head, then shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Things are less scary when you’re not alone.” She walked over and took my hand. “We can do it together.”
“Okay,” I said, strangling her fingers with mine as she guided me into my bedroom.
She borrowed my clothes to sleep in and crawled into my bed. I joined her, releasing a sigh of relief when she snuggled into my side, resting her head on my bare chest.
“Ronnie’s gonna be pissed when he finds out about this,” I teased to release the tension buzzing through my veins.
Esther snorted. “He’s not that insecure.”
Esther fell asleep first, snoring softly into my neck. I lay awake for a long time, glaring at the closed blinds and the stubborn moonlight fighting its way through. But eventually, I forced my eyes closed, buried my face in Esther’s hair that smelled like citrus shampoo, and fell asleep.