9
After bingsu, we stood on the street outside the restaurant and said that we had an enjoyable night. Thankfully, it felt like everyone meant it.
We discussed how we’d get home. “I’m heading north,” I said, jerking my thumb at a nearby tram stop.
“I’m that way too,” Atticus said.
“We can go together then,” I said.
“I’m heading that way, too,” Leo said.
“But you’re east —” I started.
He looped an arm around my neck and leaned down low to whisper into my ear, “Can I swing by yours? It’s important.”
I shivered at his hot breath against my ear. “Okay,” I replied, shaking him off me as politely as I could, overly aware of Atticus and Elena watching us.
We said goodbye to Elena, who was heading south and got onto the tram. It was crowded the way public transport always was on a Friday night, so we had to stand because there were no seats available, and at my stop, Leo and I exchanged goodbyes and ‘get home safe’ with Atticus before stepping off the tram. I had no doubt Leo would’ve hugged Atticus if there had been enough space in the carriage.
The street was much quieter than the chatter-filled tram, and the glow from street lamps bounced off the dark bitumen.
“What was that all about?” I asked as we started down the street to my place, passing by brick buildings and trendy cafes that had closed hours earlier.
“What was what all about?” Leo asked.
I elbowed him in the side. “Don’t play dumb.”
“I just wanted to keep hanging out with you. Is that so wrong?”
“Usually, when you hang out with someone, you ask them first. You don’t just invite yourself over.”
Leo shrugged, unbothered. “So. Did you have fun?”
“Yeah. Thanks for coming, by the way. I am going to pay you for your meal.”
“No, you’re not,” he said. “Maybe I’d let you if I had the worst time, but I didn’t. It was fun.”
“Really?” I peered at him.
“I’m not lying.” He knocked his arm with mine. “Did I do a good job for you?”
“Atticus told me you compared me to Snow White.”
He ducked his head. “Well. It’s important as your wingman to emphasise your…” he waved a hand at my face.
I reached out and squeezed his hand because I wanted to put him out of my misery. “You did a good job. Thank you, Leo.”
I squeezed the hands of my friends all the time, so I didn’t think anything of squeezing his, until he squeezed mine back.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
We walked another minute in silence, Leo’s hand firm on mine. Was he aware he was still holding my hand? Was this just another facet of his touchiness? Should I casually pull away?
In the end, I didn’t. I didn’t want to, and besides, it was nice that a straight guy was so secure in himself that he didn’t mind holding a gay guy’s hand.
Five minutes later, we arrived at my building, a dated apartment complex that I’d been lucky to get a lease for. I had to gently pull my hand out of his to grab my keys, which were attached to a keychain with a tiny ceramic of a Shiba Inu. Once in the elevator, Leo leaned against the far wall, crossing his arms against his chest, looking around at the mirrored walls that caused a kaleidoscope effect, creating infinite versions of us.
After an eternity, the elevator finally arrived on my floor. Wordlessly, Leo followed me down the hallway to my apartment. I unlocked the door, and I had the weirdest sensation of shivering. It was strange because I wasn’t cold in the slightest.
“This is my place,” I said, leading him into the studio and turning the light on. I noticed too late that I hadn’t been expecting visitors and left the place a mess. About seventeen articles of clothing were thrown over my bed because I’d tried on several outfits before the double date. I’d left deodorant, my cologne and a comb lying on the desk, which also held a dirty plate and a bag of apples spilling from the plastic. I hadn’t vacuumed for a week and pieces of lint littered the cheap grey carpet.
“Sorry. I forgot it was such a mess.”
“It’s not messy at all,” Leo lied with ease. He walked into the small space and collapsed on my cheap two-person couch.
“Do you want anything to drink?” I asked.
“Water would be great.”
I dug through the back of my cupboards filled with random pieces of cutlery, spices, and pantry items until I found two clean glasses. I filled them with cold tap water, walked over to Leo, and passed him one.
I fell onto the couch beside him, but I underestimated just how small my tiny couch was I’d got for free off Facebook marketplace because the entire left side of my body was pressed up against him, and there was nowhere else I could sit. I could perch on the arm, but that’d make it obvious I was avoiding touching him.
We drank our water. I was about to break the silence with something meaningless like, “It’s been a long day,” when Leo spoke.
“Do you like him?” He was looking straight ahead, holding the glass in his lap.
“Atticus? Um.” I tilted my head. “To be honest, he still kind of intimidates me.”
“Because he’s good-looking?”
“Well, yes, but that’s not the only reason. The few times it was just the two of us talking, it was still kind of stilted. I thought it’d be easier by now, but it’s still difficult for me to completely relax around him when we’re one one-on-one.”
“Because of how he looks.”
“No, it’s not that. I can relax around pretty people.”
Leo gave me a sceptical look.
“I mean it,” I said. “I could relax around you because of your personality when we first met. I know Atticus isn’t doing it on purpose, but he’s not exactly the most welcoming person, is he? He’s shy, which makes me shy, and so we can’t click the way — ” I cut myself off.
Leo looked at me for a few seconds. “You think I’m pretty?”
“I’m not trying to emasculate you or anything,” I said. “Should I call you handsome instead? Or hot —”
“No,” Leo interrupted. He paused, and when he spoke, his voice was quieter than before. “I like the word pretty.”
“You do?”
He nodded. “No one’s ever called me that before.”
That made sense. Leo wasn’t pretty in the traditional sense of the word. He wasn’t pretty like a girl, with full lips and long lashes. He wasn’t pretty like a celebrity, with high, hollow cheekbones and a ski-slope nose. No, he had thick brows, a large nose, and his lips were slightly chapped, probably because we’d spent five minutes walking through chilly evening air.
“You really don’t mind?” I asked.
He shook his head, looking down at his glass. “It’s nice to be complimented.”
“Aren’t you complimented all the time?”
“Are you, Winnie?” he asked.
I thought about it. “Mostly by girls and gays.”
“I think most guys like me can count the number of times we’ve been complimented on one hand.”
“Guys like you?” I asked. “You mean, straight guys?”
He squirmed and didn’t really reply, just mumbled something indistinguishable.
“I’ve complimented you a bunch,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, when you thought we were on a date,” he said.
“I guarantee you, if you go on a date with a girl, she’ll compliment you too.” I paused. “You have been on a date before, have you?”
He squirmed and mumbled something again, but I didn’t let him get away with it this time.
“What was that?”
He drained the rest of his water. “In my first semester, this girl I sat next to in a class asked me to hang out. I thought we were just hanging out as friends.”
“What happened?”
“We went to a cafe, and then we went on a walk. There was this river with boats you can hire, and she wanted to go in it, so I said okay, so I rowed the boat with her in it.”
“Like Ariel and Eric in The Little Mermaid?”
“Yeah.” He wasn’t looking at me. “And later, she tried to kiss me.”
“Tried?”
“Well, I dodged her.”
“And then?”
“Then I made some dumb excuse and got out of there.”
“What was your excuse?”
“I said that I forgot it was my nana’s funeral and that I had to go.”
I stared at him.
“Don’t worry,” Leo said, wide-eyed. “My nana wouldn’t mind me using her as an excuse.”
“So you rowed back to shore, then ran to an imaginary funeral?”
“Yes. But we were way down the river, so I had to row back against the flow of the river, and it took me forever, and my arms were burning. The girl was quiet the whole time. She didn’t even give me her condolences.” Leo rubbed the side of his face. “Now that I think about it, she probably didn’t believe me.”
I let out a choke of laughter. “That’s a possibility,” I said.
“Don’t make fun of me.”
“How could you not know it was a date?” I asked.
“She didn’t use the word ‘date’. She said that she just wanted to hang out. I thought we were friends.”
I laughed again.
“Don’t laugh at me!” Leo said, knocking my ankle with his foot.
“You’re kind of innocent, aren’t you?” I said.
Leo went quiet, but his face was pinker than usual. He fiddled with his glass as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. He turned it over to read the minuscule text on the bottom, which probably said something like, ‘dishwasher safe’. A few remnants of water left in the cup dribbled onto his lap. Hastily, he rubbed the wet spots for a few seconds, then suddenly stopped.
“Leo?” I asked softly.
He stiffened, eyes slowly meeting mine. “Yeah?”
“Why’d you come here?” I asked.
He looked around my small, cheap apartment as if searching for inspiration. Finally, he met my eyes.
“I was afraid you’d go home with him,” he admitted.
I took a few seconds to form my response, deciding whether to start with being touched or offended. “Why do you think I would do that?”
“You said yourself he looks like a model.”
“I already told you that just because he’s conventionally attractive doesn’t mean I like him. Besides,” my tone sharpened, “even if I did go home with him, what does that have to do with you?”
“Just…because I’m your wingman—”
“Oh my god, you think I’m a total slut!” I interrupted.
His eyes widened and he shook his head frantically. “What? No.”
“Okay, maybe I am. I can’t be mad at you for jumping to that conclusion because I have talked about sex with you a lot, and yes, I did go home with you after our fake date.”
“That’s not what I — ”
“But I don’t need you to chaperone me like I’m some teenage girl in the 1800s,” I said. “I wasn’t going to sleep with him, and even if I was, what’s it to you?”
“W-well,” he stuttered. “He’ll want you more if you play hard to get.”
“Right, what revolutionary dating advice. Where’d you learn that? From your extensive dating experience?”
Leo’s eyes widened with hurt, and I clamped my mouth shut.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” I said after a moment. “But it upsets me that you were trying to…control me. If I want to sleep with someone, that’s my choice.”
He looked at his lap. “I know,” he said after a while, his voice so soft, it was almost a whisper. “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just…”
He didn’t continue.
“You just what?” I asked.
He didn’t answer, just swallowed, his throat moving.
“Leo. Look at me.”
Slowly, he did. At first, he only turned his head, eyes lowered, but after a few moments, he raised them to meet mine.
Part of me didn’t want to ask. If Leo had been someone else, I wouldn’t have asked because some men get defensive. Some might start swearing and shoving. But I knew Leo wasn’t that type of person. He’d never do that. So, I bit the bullet.
“Were you jealous?”
His face told me everything I needed to know, and my stomach swooped like I was falling down the peak of a rollercoaster. It was fun, for about zero point two seconds. Fun and thrilling and exhilarating. Until it wasn’t.
“I mean,” he said after a long silence. “You’re…um…how do I…how should I…um…uh...You’re really nice, Winnie.”
“Nice,” I echoed. My tutors were nice. The lady at the student help centre was nice. Rome was nice.
Leo didn’t say anything, but he looked tortured.
“You said you were straight,” I said.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, “but I’ve never done anything with anyone. I haven’t even kissed someone. Apart from when you kissed me.”
“I kissed your hand,” I corrected. “And your neck.”
“Are you saying it doesn’t count?” Leo asked.
“Well, it wasn’t on your lips.”
Leo was quiet for a long time. “Do you like me?” he asked.
“I went home with you after our fake date, didn’t I?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I can’t like someone I can’t have. You told me you were straight. We decided to be friends.”
“So you don’t like me?”
It was a trick question. If I said yes, that’d be the end of our friendship. If I said no, I’d be lying and hurting his feelings. “I won’t allow myself to entertain the possibility.”
“That’s still not an answer,” Leo said.
I looked away, but I could feel his eyes burning into the side of my head.
“Winnie?” he asked.
Part of me wanted to snap at him for the stupid nickname. I could hurt his feelings and shatter the moment and send him home, and it would be cruel, but it would end the twist in my gut that felt like I was about to fall off the edge of a cliff.
“If I knew I had a chance, then yes, I would,” I admitted. I placed my glass on my cluttered coffee table just to have something to do. Sitting still on this couch made me feel claustrophobic, and once again, I was extremely aware of all the parts of my body that touched Leo’s.
I was considering pretending I needed to use the bathroom when Leo reached for my hand. He intertwined his fingers with mine. I tried to contain my surprise, fixing my eyes on his thick fingers, which deftly created a building out of pieces of paper and cardboard.
“It’s kinda like ice cream,” he said.
“Ice cream?” I echoed dumbly.
“Yeah. People are probably born thinking they like vanilla ice cream, but unless they try other flavours, how do they know? Maybe they like chocolate better. Or strawberry. Or pistachio.”
“So you’re saying that people should try flavours to make sure they know what they like?”
He nodded.
“I’ve never had sex with a woman. I don’t have to try to know I won’t like it.”
“Some people have to try,” Leo said. “If they’re unsure. Like, some people go to the ice-cream shop and know exactly what they want to order, and then other people have to sample lots of flavours before they choose one.”
“You’re really sticking with the ice cream analogy, aren’t you?”
He shrugged.
“And you’re likening me to a free sample.”
Leo paled. “I didn’t think about how it sounded. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I…”
I waited for him to continue.
“I think I like you,” he said quietly. “I feel different around you.”
“Different, how?” I asked calmly.
“Kind of…giddy, I suppose.”
I didn’t say anything for a moment. Was this really happening? The idea that Leo liked me had crossed my mind a few times, but it was just a fantasy myself. It was like when I made eye contact with a stranger on the tram and deluded myself for 5.8 seconds into thinking they were madly in love with me.
Sure, Leo was sweet and earnest and hugged me and touched me and held my hand. He reminded me of a little kid or a puppy dog.
Suddenly, he let go of my hand and stood up. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I shouldn’t have barged into your place and blurted out all this stuff…I’ll go now —”
I grabbed his arm and yanked him down.