CHAPTER 14 #2
I consider choosing Summer Nights, but there’s a little flag that reads duet, and my mind flashes to the image of some stranger in the crowd running up to join me, causing Ellie to feel hurt and jealous.
Better to select a solo. Tequila has an ‘easy’ flag next to it, but I am wanting something more fun. I close my eyes and select a random song, unsure of what I have just gotten myself into.
“It says you’re third in the queue,” Ellie says, and I nod, pretending I understand what that means.
Am I third from the person currently singing? Or third not including the person currently singing? My head is beginning to spin a little, but I ignore the dizziness, trying to focus all my efforts on the human in front of me.
“Why do people come to bars?” I ask as I watch two humans flirt with one another.
“To drink, relax, and have fun with friends, I think,” Ellie says. “Or to hook up with strangers. Or go on a date.”
“Do you do a lot of that?”
“Dating? No. No, I don’t.” Her eyes seem to find the same couple I was staring at, and she looks at them with longing.
“No, like. Do you hook up with strangers?”
Ellie freezes for an eighth of a second, and I wonder if I have committed another social faux pas. r/dating taught me that term—and it’s French!
“Um. Do you know what human sexuality is?”
My brows furrow. “Did we not do human sexuality together?”
Ellie seems to fight back a snort, or maybe a laugh. “Oh my god. No, we had sex. I mean do you know how sex works between humans?”
“Uh?”
“Sorry, this is such a strange thing to explain. Sexuality is like…human sexual preferences…but it’s deeper than that.
Just like sapphiro, we all have biological sex, but we also have gender identities, and people are attracted to people based on their sex and gender identity,” she explains, discomfort lacing her tone.
“I learned a little about this. Mostly about your planet’s historical emphasis on being born male, and the development of patriarchal societies. Which, by the way, I find to be strange and wrong,” I say. I cannot tell if my words are a little slurred, or if I’m just speaking too fast.
“On Terilia, we obviously have biological sex, but it serves no cultural or societal purpose other than when sapphiro would like to reproduce. If you want to reproduce, you are paired with someone of the opposite sex. If you do not, you might be paired with anyone.”
Ellie cocks her head, her large, loose waves falling down her shoulders and back. “That is really cool. Do you guys not have sexuality? Or gender?”
“Some sapphiro experience feelings that would be considered akin to gender on Earth, but we’re all very respectful regarding those differentiations.”
“Fuck, I’m jealous.”
I nod. “Yes. Earth needs to step it up. Humanity is living in the past about many things.”
“So wait,” Ellie says, and her hand brushes against my arm, the electrical pulses of her body shooting through mine.
Sensing her heart rate, and the way mine seems to speed up or slow down to match, gives me a rush I have not found elsewhere, and I savor it until she moves.
“You’re all essentially pansexual then, right?
Like, you find someone attractive regardless of their identities or parts? ”
I decide I am feeling bold. Dizzy, but bold. “Yes, I would say that is accurate. Is that what you are?”
Ellie looks at me, and there is a long pause. She takes a deep breath, and I watch another performer find their way to the stage, this one choosing a song in French, and half the bar sings along.
“I am demisexual,” Ellie finally says.
“Cool,” I say, my words definitely slurring, and her face morphs from vulnerability to concern.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You only had like, a drink and a half.”
“I am so gre-great. What is semisexual?” I want to know everything about Ellie, to truly understand her, but right now I just feel disoriented.
“Demisexual. Essentially, I need a connection before I’m sexually attracted to someone. So to answer your earlier question, no, I don’t really hook up with strangers. I really only enjoy sex with people I know and really like.”
I am filled with a sudden sense of acetylcholine and clarity. Ellie definitely likes me. She has to, it’s literally her sexuality. Now that I know it’s certain, I am, without a shadow of a doubt, going to make her realize that it can work between us. We will figure it out, together.
“Derek, s’il vous pla?t, come up to the stage,” the announcer says into the microphone, his French accent incredibly thick.
I guess my romantic declaration of…deep desire…will have to wait.
Walking up the small, overly lit stage, I take the microphone that is being held out to me. A Thousand Miles comes up on the screen, and Ellie audibly gasps before bursting out into laughter, many of the audience joining her as the intro starts.
A piano melody plays, light and jovial, and I make my best attempt to follow the words in time.
Strings join the backing track, and I sing my heart out.
At first to the audience, but eventually straight to Ellie, dancing and jumping during every instrumental break.
She is smiling, her face flushed and giddy, and I think everyone in the bar understands she is mine.
Maybe not because of a label, or a ring, or by any official decree. But in my heart, this human belongs to me.
No, that sounds creepy and controlling. She belongs in my heart. The room is spinning, and I’m really glad all of these weird thoughts are just in my head.
“Am I staying this stuff out loud?” I say, and I think I’m speaking English, but my limbs feel heavy, the lights changing the appearance of everything in the room.
Ellie’s gleaming smile fades to a frown, her eyes wide and arms practically flailing as I finish the last lines of the song.
“Ellie, I really like you. Like, I really want to kiss you and buy a house with you and grow old and die with you, but if you do not want that, I will settle for being best friends.”
“What language was that?” someone asks from the crowd.
Am I speaking Terilian? Oh, fuck.
“Give it up for Derek from America!” the announcer says, and Ellie death grips my arm as she drags me off stage.
“Did you like my performance?” I ask, looking at Ellie. I think it’s Ellie.
“Zarek,” she whispers. “English, please. Just until we get back on the train. What’s happening? Your skin keeps shifting from tan to blue. People are staring”
“Did you tell them it is okay because I am a sapphiro?” I ask as she puts my arm around her shoulder, hoisting me up.
I can’t see her face, but I can feel her frown. “No. I told them you have a skin condition and that it’s rude to ask about it.”
“Smart. You are so smart. And pretty. So pretty. And your sex organ is so wet and—”
“If you speak again I will turn you in to the French government and tell them your flesh tastes like ice cream,” Ellie interrupts me through gritted teeth, though I can feel how her heart rate increases, as mine does the same.
In hopes I get to keep my flesh, I try to remain quiet as we walk through the pink, well-lit streets of Toulouse. There is an amber glow, casting itself onto Ellie and myself, and I look down to see my hands, which are definitely blue.
“It was nice knowing you,” I say as nausea takes over my body.
Ellie lets go of me, gripping my shoulders to inspect me. “What the fuck does that mean? Are you going to die?”
“I had to speak, but the French government is going to make me into sundaes and banana split. Good bye,” I say, the nausea prevailing, and I vomit onto the sidewalk.
Ellie gently rubs my back, comforting me until I am able to walk again, and we make it to the train station.
“I need you to do everything you can to keep your disguise working for the walk from the entrance to our train car. Please, Zarek. You have to do this,” she says, desperation in her tone.
“I can do it. I can do it,” I say.
With all the determination I can muster, I focus my mind on appearing human, my brain straining from the effort. Ellie’s heart is fast, too fast, and I worry about her as we speedwalk back to our little section of the train.
We step inside, and Ellie quickly shuts the door behind us, both of our chests heaving as we sigh in relief.
She is incredibly close to me, only one or two jbits away, and I want to kiss her.
“I would kiss you, but your breath smells like throw up,” Ellie whispers, and I nod in understanding. “I am proud of you. For holding your disguise, I mean.”
“Why does it feel like I have been hit by a baseball bat?” I ask, sitting on one of the chairs.
Ellie picks up a blanket, gently wrapping it around me. “I don’t think sapphiro process alcohol the way humans do. You are drunk drunk. I’m not sure you’ll even remember this tomorrow.”
“I hope I remember how beautiful you were tonight,” I say, and it’s one of the last clear thoughts in my head.
I hope to never forget your laugh, or your stunningly human smile.