Chapter 18 #2
“We would just, maybe, be more to each other. Talk about other, more intimate things. And, maybe, we would be physically closer. Not always. But sometimes, if we both wanted that.” Their words were phrased as statements, but Bryce felt like they were asking.
He nodded. “Yeah, we might do more coupley things, like go on a date. If you wanted to, and if you liked it. And if you ever wanted to… be close, well, I would like that a lot.”
“Like this,” they asked, fingers grazing over his skin until their hand blanketed his.
Bryce swallowed thickly as warmth buzzed up his arm and settled in his chest. “Yeah, Zef, I like when you touch me.”
“I may not be ready for some physical affections,” they said.
“That’s okay. How about I follow your lead on that,” he said, and they squeezed his hand.
“Thank you.”
“Of course, Zef. You don’t have to thank me for that.
Anything that happens between us, whether it’s physical or otherwise, should only happen because we both want it to.
” He slowly flipped his hand over, giving Zef the chance to move away.
When they pressed their palm to his instead, he smiled triumphantly and closed his fingers around their hand, rubbing his thumb over their smooth skin. “Good or bad?”
Zef tracked the swipe of Bryce’s thumb and smiled. “Good tingles.”
“That’s real good.” They sat like that for several minutes, hands clasped on the table between them. “Are there any Mantodean courtship traditions I need to know? I don’t want you to miss out on anything.”
“I will make you a list,” they said cheekily, and Bryce laughed. “You should do the same. I do not want to miss any human courtship rituals.”
“I can do that, if you want me to.” They nodded, so he did too. “Okay, it’s a deal.”
They tightened their grip on him and moved their hands side-to-side. “Shake on it.”
A phone buzzed, interrupting their moment, and Zef retrieved theirs from their robe pocket. Whatever they read on their screen had them whistling in alarm as they shoved to their feet, nearly upending their chair.
“Oh no! I have forgotten something important.” They tugged Bryce to his feet. “You must get dressed immediately.”
“Okay, is something wrong?” he asked as Zef ushered him to the mouth of the hallway.
“No, something I think will be very good, but I forgot completely in the face of our… romantic development. Now, go dress quickly!”
Catching Zef’s hand, Bryce stopped them from retreating. “Thank you for having breakfast with me.”
They trilled in pleasure as he squeezed their hand before their phone buzzed again, and their doe-eyed expression turned to panic once more. “We do not have time for your voluptuary ways,” they cried as they pushed his shoulder with two of their other hands. “Make haste.”
“What the hell does voluptuary mean?” he asked, but Zef was already disappearing into their room.
He dressed in three minutes and was in the living room searching what voluptuary meant when Zef’s door opened, and they rushed past him.
“Come, Bryce,” they said as they slipped their feet into their loafers.
They were dressed in jean overalls over a loose button-up with polka-dots on it, and they had fastened their hair in a high ponytail.
Their neck was long and elegant, and Bryce was half-obsessed with it. “Your hair looks nice like that,” he said as he followed Zef into the spring morning.
Touching their hair behind their ear, they avoided eye contact as they said, “Oh, thank you. You look very handsome in your flannels.”
“Thanks,” he said.
As they walked to the tram stop, Zef texted on their phone with their upper hands as their lower hands swung with their long strides.
He eyed their hand, weighing the pros and cons of taking it and lacing their friends together.
They had held hands briefly before, but he had also agreed to follow Zef’s lead when it came to physical touch and affection.
Plus, they were distracted and stressed out right now, and he didn’t want to freak them out more by trying to hold their hand in public.
Burning with curiosity, Bryce barely resisted the urge to peek at Zef’s phone as they rode the tram toward Envy station.
They kept huffing and puffing as they texted with someone, but since they were purposefully not telling him anything about what they were doing on the tram or where they were going once they got to the station, he didn’t ask who they were talking to.
He assumed it was all connected, and he would figure it out eventually.
At the station, they waited outside the gates where travelers scanned their tickets or public transportation cards.
Zef tucked their lower hands into their overall pockets and studied the thin Sunday crowd milling through the gates.
They checked their phone periodically, but whoever had been blowing it up with messages had fallen silent.
“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on now?” Bryce asked, knocking their elbow with his.
“No, it is a surprise,” they said.
“For me?”
Zef nodded. “Of course. It cannot be a surprise for me because I am clearly in on it.”
“Okay, sassypants,” he muttered, and they frowned at him.
After nearly ten minutes of watching the comings and goings of travelers, Bryce caught a glimpse of a familiar poofy head of thin, light pink hair winking in and out of sight in the crowd, and he froze.
“Wait,” he said, and then the bodies parted, and there she was.
Tall and thinning with age but still strong and fiery as ever, carrying a large, canvas purse covered in gaudy flowers, travel pillow hooked around her neck, sunglasses on her face like she was going on vacation in Vegas, it was none other than Rosalie Elliot. “Nan!”
She waved a weathered hand but continued chatting with the Spryte next to her, a petite guy with magenta skin and periwinkle hair. He was pulling her wheelie bag for her, listening with rapt attention as his pastel fairy wings opened and closed lazily behind him.
“And that’s my grandson,” Bryce heard her say before she finally called, “Hi, Brycey!”
Jogging up to the gates, he gaped at her as she approached. “Nan, what in God’s name are you doing here?”
“Coming to see my favorite grandson for his birthday,” she said as she handed the Spryte her ticket. He scanned her ticket for her, and she bustled through the open gates.
The moment she was clear, Bryce swept her up in a hug, and she rubbed his back. She smelled like Bengay and rose perfume and something so inexplicably home that he instantly burst into tears.
“Oh, my boy,” she cooed, rocking him back and forth as he cried into her neck. “Come now, you haven’t missed me that much, have you?”
“I’m always missing you,” he croaked as he fought to get control of himself. “I just had no idea.”
“That’s what makes it a surprise.”
“Thank you for assisting her,” Bryce heard Zef say to the Spryte.
“It was no trouble,” he replied in a Pride accent as he offered the handle of the wheelie bag to Zef.
Without letting Bryce go, Nan waved at the Spryte. “It was nice chatting with you, Bel. Message me on the Instagram and keep me updated on your neighbor. She sounds like a hoot and a half.”
The Spryte, Bel, nodded stiffly. “Of course, Nan. Enjoy your trip with your grandson.”
Finally finished crying, Bryce released his death grip on his grandmother and fished out his handkerchief from his pocket, using it to wipe his face clean before Zef saw him covered in snot. Nan gave him a minute to compose himself and stepped toward Zef.
“Well, would you look at you,” she said, propping her sunglasses on her head so she could give Zef a onceover.
“Hello, Nan.” Zef bowed deeply, making her snort.
“Oh, none of that hullabaloo. It’s bad enough I can’t give you a hug, you don’t gotta go and start bowing like I’m royalty.” She flapped her hands at them, and they straightened. “It’s good to finally meet you in person, kiddo.”
“I am so pleased you are here. Forgive me for not meeting you in Purgatory as we planned. There were”—they shot Bryce a look—“extenuating circumstances.”
She harrumphed wordlessly, wrapping an arm around Bryce’s waist as he circled her shoulders with his arm.
“You two planned this?” Bryce asked.
“It was Zef’s idea, but I’ll happily take some credit,” she said smugly, patting his side.
Stunned, Bryce turned to Zef, and their antennas trembled as they said, “I know you miss your family. I thought you would like Nan here for your birthday.”
Tears burned his eyes anew. “And you expect me not to hug you after that?”
“Yes,” they said sternly, softening the quasi-rejection with a smile. Then they extended their lower hand in offering, and Bryce took it, squeezing their fingers firmly.
“Thank you, Zef.”
“You are most welcome, Bryce.”
Gaze ping-ponging between them, Nan narrowed her eyes, but before she could comment, Bryce said, “I told Zef that I liked them.”
“Ah, that explains the extenuating circumstances.”
“Nan, you knew too?” Zef asked, and she nodded unabashedly. “Did everyone know except me? Tad was entirely unsurprised.”
“You told Tad?” Bryce checked their surroundings to make sure the Anura wasn’t about to jump him from the shadows. “Great, now she’s gonna murder me.”
“Do not be ridiculous,” they said dismissively. “I told her there was no need for violence.”
Which meant she had threatened violence, and that didn’t make him feel any better.
As they headed for the exit, Nan remained tucked under Bryce’s arm as Zef towed her wheelie bag behind them.
She launched into the story of how she and Zef had been planning this since April, and how it had been so difficult keeping it a secret.
Bryce gazed at Zef over the top of Nan’s head, and when the Mantodea smiled at him, his heart gave an insistent throb inside his chest.