Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
And honestly Austin thought it was going okay until Meg asked Alex if they ever finished that rainbow sweater they were knitting.
It seemed like an innocuous question to Austin. Certainly no one else at the table seemed to think it landed like a grenade. Even Alex barely reacted, only shrugged disinterestedly. “I’m not really into knitting anymore.”
Maybe Meg’s question flew under the radar, but Alex’s answering tone did not. Gavin and Joe both raised their heads. Austin caught himself ping-ponging between expressions, trying to gauge what was about to go down. Should he clear the table of projectiles?
“Oh.” Meg deflated a little. She’d eaten a little over half her plate, which Austin knew by now was not enough to sustain an athlete of her caliber.
The girl’s appetite was impressive. “You never said anything. I thought maybe we could do, like, our knitting thing next year. Like we used to, but on Skype or Facetime or whatever.”
That was a fucking friendship overture. Austin might not have a lot of friends, but even he could see that. And Alex was stabbing their plate like it had personally insulted them.
Still, Meg went on bravely. Austin felt like he was watching a car wreck in slow motion. “We could do something else instead,” she offered. “Like, remember when we all had to quarantine and we went online and binge-watched iCarly—”
Alex’s palm landed flat on the table. Will jumped. “That show’s for little girls.”
Meg’s slam echoed theirs like she’d just been waiting for those words. “Yeah,” she said coolly. “Except for how anybody can like anything, because gender’s a social construct.”
Alex’s mouth dropped open and they flushed deep enough to highlight the trio of freckles by their nose.
“Like, whatever,” Meg went on before Alex could defend themself.
“I get why you didn’t want to tell me you thought you might be pregnant, because that shit’s scary even without the gender dysphoria.
So whatever. It hurt, ’cause I thought we were friends, I’ve been trying to be friends, I’ve been trying to understand what you’re going through.
But it’s like you realized you weren’t a girl and somehow that meant you couldn’t do anything girly.
Like have girl friends or talk about boys or fucking knit.
Which is so stupid! Will talks about boys!
Lots of people knit! But you ditched all the hobbies you thought were too femme and you ditched me, and I dare you to tell me it’s made you any fucking happier. ”
“People change,” Alex snapped back. “I’m allowed to not like stuff anymore.”
“That’s not what I said!”
“You don’t get to decide for me!”
“Exactly! Neither should anyone else! So why are you letting society have a say?”
Alex opened their mouth, shut it, opened it, then shut it again. A tense silence bubbled around them, and Austin wondered if now was the time to cut in. Or maybe he and Joe should make a run for it. This felt like not the kind of conversation to be hashed out around parents.
“You thought you might be pregnant?” Everyone turned to Gavin, who was pale and staring wide-eyed at Alex, all wounded puppy. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
The table swiveled back to Alex. At least Austin wasn’t the only one watching this play out like he’d scored front-row seats to the taping of a soap opera. Will looked like he wanted popcorn.
“I—I—because Schrodinger’s pregnancy! Not knowing was less terrifying and I was already stressed, which is why I skipped my period in the first place.
” Alex hugged themselves, but now that the dam was broken, they couldn’t seem to stop.
“I was stressed about school and exams and what’ll happen next year and fighting with Meg and whether or not you liking me means you think I’m a girl and—”
“Wait, I’ve been banging you for months and you still think I’m straight?”
“Banging,” Will whispered, almost gleeful. Joe groaned softly and glanced longingly at his glass like he wanted something harder to drink than fizzy water.
“What?” Alex looked poleaxed.
Gavin shrugged. “I don’t have, like, a label or anything. Maybe I’m just Alex-sexual.”
“Alex-sexual,” Alex said. “That sounds dumb.”
“What? I’ve been in love with you since I was eight, so the question’s kind of, like, mote, or whatever.”
“Moot,” Joe said quietly.
“Yeah, that.” Gavin snapped his fingers and pointed at Joe.
Silence reigned as everyone took all that in.
Austin spent several agonizing heartbeats achingly, furiously jealous that Gavin could say that so easily.
Like it was so obvious that he wasn’t telling anyone anything they didn’t already know.
Unconcerned with whether it was too soon (how could it be?), sure Alex would want to hear it.
Then Joe picked up his glass and eyed his water and Austin reminded himself this was not about him. “I understand why people exploit their families for money on YouTube now.”
Will snorted, still looking gleeful, probably because today he was in no way part of the drama.
Giving up, apparently, Joe reached back for a bottle of wine on the sideboard. “Christ, does anyone else want a drink?”
“Not the red,” Austin said, because that was the last thing they needed.
Joe grunted and stood, heading for the white in the fridge, Austin assumed.
Meanwhile, Gavin and Alex were sort of just making eyes at each other. Alex hadn’t acknowledged Gavin’s confession, but Austin suspected that had more to do with the audience than a lack of reciprocation.
Joe returned with a bottle of white, as predicted, and two glasses.
“So, now that Gavin’s acknowledged that liking you doesn’t make you a girl,” Meg said—Austin winced, but Alex just rolled their eyes, so maybe that wasn’t too harsh—“can we talk about how you’re totally still allowed to like what you want and shit?”
Joe handed Austin a healthy glass, and he drank deeply and braced himself for what came next.
Alex frowned. “You might have a point about the knitting. And still being able to like it. Just. You get why it’s hard going to feminist stuff that’s all about women, right?”
Meg frowned back. “I mean, I know some of it is women-based, but. like, men and enbies can be feminists too. And,” she said, picking up steam, “you thought you were pregnant—which is why intersectional feminist issues like abortion rights should still matter to you.”
Alex frowned deeper and pushed their food around their plate.
Everyone else at the table held their breath.
“Okay, so maybe I was having a bit of a dysphoric freak-out,” they admitted.
“I’m allowed to say no to stuff and it not be, like, a total rejection of you.
But also, I could try to be better about, you know, talking to you about my feelings and not saying no to everything. ”
Meg burst into tears. Alex stumbled over themself getting out of the chair and getting to Meg, and then the kids were hugging and crying together.
It hit Austin suddenly that this was who Meg and Alex were as friends, and that he’d never actually seen them being their true selves, at least with regards to their friendship.
He glanced at Joe and caught him trying to covertly wipe tears from his eyes. How much stress had Joe been carrying around, worrying about two of his children not getting on?
“Time for dessert?” Austin asked in an undertone.
Joe nodded and stood, but as he walked to the kitchen, tension crept back into his shoulders.
Austin had no idea what could possibly be bothering him now, but maybe he could lighten the mood and bring a bit of humor back.
“Teenagers. All that drama. Glad we’re too old for that shit.
” He chuckled and bumped their hips together.
Next to him, Joe went rigid.
Did he hit a sore spot? Austin didn’t remember him having any bruises. “Hey. You okay?”
The dessert plates clanked onto the counter. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because you just totally froze? And because those are your favorite plates and you’re always really careful with them?” Too late, Austin realized that was probably a rhetorical question.
“I’m fine,” Joe snapped.
This was such an obvious lie it left Austin grasping for a rebuttal. He was blaming his total shock for the fact that the next words out of his mouth were, “Okay, maybe I was wrong about being too old for drama.”
One of the kids dropped a utensil. Otherwise the house went silent.
Then Will said, “Actually I think we’re gonna wait on dessert—take Pepa for a walk before it gets too dark, you know?”
The other three fell over themselves to agree and scampered out of the house. Austin didn’t think they’d ever moved so fast, not that he was watching them. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Joe.
But Joe wasn’t having the same problem. As the kids left, he turned his back to Austin. The wine bottle went back in the fridge. The magnet holding Will’s work schedule fell off with the force of Joe closing the door.
What the fuck.
Austin could no longer keep the question in. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
Joe whirled around. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
Apparently hanging out with the kids and three cats and a dog had taught Austin a lot about patience. “Joe. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Can you please tell me why you’re upset?”
For a second Joe only gaped at him. Then he said, “Because you’re hiding something!”
Oh fuck.
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice when you started changing in the garage when you got home?” Joe’s face contorted. “Or that you changed your work hours? No way you’re working as much as you used to. And the number of times I see your car coming home from the wrong direction—”
So he knew. He knew Austin had sold the garage and he was pissed because Austin hadn’t told him. But why hadn’t he said anything before now?
Finally Joe stopped pacing and faced him head on. “Just give it to me straight. Are you cheating on me?”
Wait, what the fuck? “Why would I do that?” Austin said. “I love you!”