Chapter One #2
Dr. Love nods in agreement. “But just so we’re clear, Trevel, in no way do I think you need to tell Alice about your past, your condition, or your fears in order to get physical with her.
I don’t believe you owe her anything, especially if she’s as eager to be physical as you’ve said.
” I release a breath and nod, relieved. “That said, I do believe you owe it to yourself. Something is holding you back. Fear of hurting her is only the surface of it.”
My head is swirling with his words. All of these thoughts that make me question myself…
Who am I?
What does it all mean?
Will I ever move on?? Or has this tortured madness been baked into me too deep?
Dr. Love taps his pen against his full bottom lip.
“Maybe I’ll tell Alice I prefer to go to bed alone,” I croak, watching his mouth. “So that if we do… something… I won’t be worried about wigging out on her in my sleep.”
“Sure.” Dr. Love nods. “Just find a way to word it that doesn’t make it sound like you’re kicking her out after sex.” His mouth pulls the faintest of smirks.
But still, it’s there. And it’s breathtaking.
A small laugh puffs out of me, my chest all warm and fuzzy as he glances at the wall behind me.
“We’re out of time for today.” He slaps his notebook shut.
Standing, I ignore the familiar sting in my chest I tend to feel when our sessions are over. It’s entirely nonsensical, anyway. “Cracking, as always. See you next week?”
Dr. Love stares at me for a moment, something peculiar flashing in his striking amber eyes. But it’s gone in a blink as he nods. “It’s a date.”
Those three words are on my mind for the rest of the evening.
All throughout the ten-minute walk to my favorite sushi spot, the fifteen minutes that I wait for my food to be prepared, then the five-minute walk to my apartment.
The whole time I’m enjoying my eel and sweet potato roll while watching What We Do In The Shadow s, chuckling at the hijinks of Laszlo, Nandor, and Colin Robinson.
While I’m relaxing on my chaise lounge, adjacent to my bed because I live in a studio, writing and thinking.
When I begin to yawn and decide it’s time for sleep.
During the entirety of my nighttime routine, and even when I climb into bed…
They’re in my brain. Flickering like the flame of a candle I refuse to blow out. Three words, out of the whole lot, hold me captive.
It’s a date.
My weekend kicks off like any other. I work a full day on Saturday, texting with Alice here and there.
Weekends are always busy at Zen—the yoga studio and relaxation spa where I work.
I’ve been a yoga instructor here for about nine months.
I was surprised when they hired me, being that the only experience I had was leading our yoga class at Riverwoods.
But they gave me a chance, and I’m grateful.
Even more so that they promoted me a couple of months ago to part-time masseur, because massage therapists certainly make more than yoga instructors, what with the tips and all.
I’d taken a few massage classes to pass the time, so I decided to throw my hat into the ring as a sort of fill-in , in case someone called out sick. A week later, they were giving me clients and allowing me to bring in my own.
The money is good, and I enjoy what I do, but the city is expensive.
Outside of Zen, I tend to pick up odd jobs here and there for extra cash.
Tomorrow, I’m walking dogs, next weekend I’m house-sitting for a woman in my building, and in two weeks, I have a gig filling in as a teacher for a poetry writing workshop at the local community center.
None of these things pay in private islands, but I’m sure if I keep flitting around, using my skills and my charms wherever I can, I’ll find enough work to support myself. I’ve been doing it my whole life…
Finding ways to get by. Surviving .
By the end of my Bikram class Saturday evening, I’ve agreed to meet Alice for dinner at some Korean barbecue place she’s been dying to try. Scuttling my way back home, I’m showered, dressed, and ready for a date in under an hour.
Inside the restaurant, I spot her right away, sitting at the bar. She’s wearing a red dress that looks great with her tanned complexion and heels that accentuate her long legs, dirty blonde hair blown out and flowing like a sumptuous mane.
She’s stunning , and honestly, I often find it hard to understand why she’s chosen to date me … After all, we’re very different people.
Alice is from Colombia. She moved to the States with her twin brother, Andres, when they were children, after their parents died tragically.
Apparently, they had family here, but they weren’t very accepting of Alice, being that she’s known she was transgender since she was young.
She had to quit school to get a job to support herself after moving out on her own.
But as soon as she was able, she got her GED, put herself through cosmetology school, and even began studying to become a social worker.
Despite her complicated upbringing, Alice Alvarez is a force. She doesn’t let things get her down. In fact, she manages to rise above pretty much everything the world throws her way.
Simply put, she slays.
And that’s not to say I’ve let life beat me down, because I, too, had a complicated upbringing.
Not that it’s a contest, but I think I’ve had the most fucked-up life of anyone I know, including Alice.
The shit I’ve been through brought me to where I am today, and all things considered, I think I’m doing great.
But I wouldn’t say I’m crushing it, like Alice is.
She inspires me. Dr. Love is right… I want this relationship to work out, because Alice Alvarez is the most brilliant person I’ve ever met.
Unfortunately for me, I’m not certain I have what it takes to hold on to her.
She’s way too good for me.
“Why hello, beautiful stranger,” Alice croons to me as I step up to her side, kissing her cheek.
“Hello, angel.” I grin back. “You look lovely, as always.”
She smirks, showing off the little diamond studs in her dimples. “I ordered you a fancy drink, but you took too long, so I drank it.” She gestures to the empty glasses.
I chuckle, then tease, “You know I have to be fashionably late. If I can’t make a grand entrance, what’s the point in showing up at all?”
Giggling, she tosses her hair over her shoulder. “So you’re just never going to get a car?”
I shrug casually. “Why do I need a car? I have perfectly functional legs.”
“Or you’re afraid to learn to drive…” she mutters, grinning.
I slap my hand over her mouth. “That’s enough out of you.”
She’s laughing beneath my palm, shoving me off of her. “Ugh! Lipstick, you cretin!”
“Sorry, sorry.” I assess her mouth. “Still perfect.”
She hops off of her seat, taking me by the arm as we follow a hostess to our table. Peeking down at Alice, I can’t help remembering how we met…
How I followed her around for a good three weeks before she finally noticed me and asked me out.
My personal belief is that she finds odd behavior charming. It’s something that happens a lot. People are too trusting. If I met myself, I’d be rather wary of me.
Even so, I’m glad that Alice wasn’t creeped out or repulsed by the lurking emo giant who kept popping up everywhere she was. So far, she’s shown it to be the opposite. I think she wants to be much closer than we are, and I’m the one always putting on the brakes.
“Going into any relationship, after what’s happened to you, and what you’ve done, will be extremely difficult… There’s no real way to know if your nightmares will manifest themselves into a reality…”
Dr. Love’s words ring in my brain as I sit down to a nice meal with Alice. My girlfriend…?
Granted, we’ve only been dating a few weeks and have had no conversations about exclusivity. I know I’m not seeing anyone else right now, but I wouldn’t expect her to tie herself down to me. Especially when I feel as though I’m only giving her little bits of myself.
“So Andres has been badgering me again,” Alice tells me while we pick at some appetizers.
“For what?”
“Money, I think.” She licks some sauce off of her fingertip. “I mean, he didn’t say it outright, but I can tell something’s off with him.”
I peer at her. “You think he’s using again?”
Alice shrugs; her attempt at seeming unaffected. But I can tell the idea of her twin brother falling back into old habits hurts her greatly. “I know I’m not supposed to enable him, but it’s hard. He’s all I have, you know?”
I nod, though I have zero experience with how it feels to watch a family member struggling. I have no family, no one close enough to even be considered family adjacent .
On the other side of that, when I struggled in the past with my own issues, I had no one to turn to for help. It was just me and the streets of Manhattan…
In that spirit, I give her all I have to offer on the subject. “If I’d had a sister like you, my life might have ended up very different…” It comes out wistful and reminiscent, because now I’m actually wondering what would’ve happened if someone had been around for me to lean on back then.
Alice slides her hand over mine on the table. I glance down at it, admiring her fingers, slender with perfectly manicured nails painted shimmery black. Her skin color is a contrast to mine because of how pale I am, though we both have tattoos. I like the way our hands look together.
Lifting my eyes to hers, I find her watching me closely. It’s worrying. I have absolutely no idea what she sees when she’s looking at me.
I feel like I’m constantly on edge, wondering if being with Alice is the right thing, for her .
I know it’s right for me, because I care about her greatly, and I want nothing more than to be a permanent fixture in her life. But I just can’t rid myself of the constant fear that simply being with me is going to cause her harm.
Why, though?? I don’t think I would hurt her… I’d certainly never intend to.