Chapter 7 #2
I wasn't going to fuck up our friendship.
“Great. I'll set it up.”
We finished dinner together, and I cataloged all her cute and adorable idiosyncrasies that I usually took for granted.
The way she laughed at her own jokes. How she absently reached over to steal bites from my plate even though she had her own.
The perfectly comfortable silence when conversation lapsed.
If she moved to Great Britain, I'd lose all of this. The daily domesticity, the shared meals, the easy companionship that had become the best part of my day.
And I'd lose it without ever telling her how I felt about her.
Saturday we headed out to Abbey Cat, a converted church in West Hollywood that had been transformed into one of the most welcoming queer spaces in LA.
The building still looked vaguely religious from the outside, but the rainbow flags and the sound of music spilling onto the street made it clear this was a very different kind of worship.
Sean and Ren were waiting by the entrance, both dressed in the kind of effortlessly cool outfits that made me feel like I'd never understood fashion.
Sean had the sophisticated style of someone who knew exactly what worked for his plus-size frame in a perfectly fitted suit vest with a crisp shirt over dark jeans that made him look like a sophisticated but casual academic, until you noticed the tiny superheroes on his tie.
He wore his confidence like an accessory, the kind of self-assurance that came from being completely comfortable in his own skin.
Ren was taller, with really striking Asian features, and wore a vintage jacket that probably cost more than my truck.
“There they are,” Sean called out, pulling me into a hug like we were old friends instead of people Liam and George had connected through their network of honorary family. “Ready for some fun?”
“As ready as we'll ever be,” Artie replied.
Parker arrived moments later, her purple hair catching the light from the street lamps. She looked exactly the same as she had at graduation, confident, slightly mischievous, with the kind of energy that suggested she was always planning something interesting.
“This place is amazing,” she said, looking up at the building. “Very Gothic chic meets pride parade.”
“Wait until you see the inside,” Ren said with a grin.
Freddie was the last to arrive, looking slightly overwhelmed but excited. They'd cut their hair since I'd last seen them at a Kingman family gathering, and the shorter style made them look older, more settled into their identity.
“Thanks for waiting for me,” they said. “Getting here from campus was... weird.”
“No problem,” Artie said, giving them a hug. “How's the soccer team looking?”
“Intimidating but amazing. I think I'm going to love playing here.”
We all made our way inside, and I felt some of the tension start to ease out of me. This was exactly what I'd needed. Friends, music, the kind of social connection that reminded me there was more to life than football and complicated feelings about roommates.
The interior of Abbey Cat was even more impressive than the outside suggested. High ceilings, stained-glass windows that had been repurposed with rainbow lighting, and a dance floor that was already packed with people of every age, gender, and style imaginable.
“Drinks first,” Sean announced, leading us toward the roped off VIP area where they had a table reserved. Fancy pants. “Then I want to hear everything about how you're all settling into LA life.”
The next few hours flew by in the best possible way. Our table was in a quieter corner where we could actually talk, and the conversation ranged from career updates to LA apartment hunting to stories from our respective teams and schools.
Parker regaled us with tales from her new job at FlixNChill. “Being besties with the author of the books they're making into the most anticipated show next year has it's benefits. One other girl in IT cried a little when I got Tempest to sign a book for her.”
Freddie talked about the adjustment to UCLA, the competitive dynamics of the soccer team, and their excitement about training with coaches who actually understood their Olympic aspirations.
“Everyone here is serious about their sport.
No one thinks it's weird that I'm planning my life around soccer.”
“Same with rugby,” Artie agreed. “It's nice to be around people with the same kind of goals.”
Sean and Ren shared stories about LA life, the best neighborhoods for young professionals, and the city's surprisingly robust community of transplants from smaller places.
“The thing about LA,” Ren said, “is that almost everyone here is from somewhere else. I was worried when I came over from... Asia. But there's this understanding that everyone's trying to figure it out as they go.”
“Except the people who were born here,” Sean added. “They're a whole different species.”
This felt like what Artie and I'd been missing, a genuine connection with people who understood the particular challenges of being young, queer, and trying to build a life in a new city.
I tried not to but I watched Artie more carefully than I should have. The way she laughed at Sean's stories, how she and Parker fell into easy conversation about college days, the comfortable way she interacted with everyone so easily.
This was Artie in her element, social, confident, completely herself. And seeing her like this made me realize how much I wanted to be part of her world, as something more.
“You're staring,” Freddie said quietly, appearing at my elbow while the others were distracted by one of Sean's more animated stories.
“What?”
“At Artie. You're staring at her like she's about to disappear.”
I looked down at my drink, suddenly self-conscious. “I'm just... making sure she's having a good time.”
“Uh-huh.” Freddie's tone suggested they weren't buying my explanation. “You know, Jules mentioned that you two have been living together.”
“We're roommates.”
They narrowed their eyes at me. I was getting tired of people doing that. “Right. Roommates who look at each other like that.”
I sighed. Yep. I was going to go through this dance again, because when you know all the names of the streets in hell, why move? “Like what?”
Before they could respond, the group's attention turned back to our conversation.
“What are you two plotting over there?” Parker asked.
“Just discussing the dating scene here,” Freddie said smoothly.
The evening wound down around midnight, with everyone exchanging numbers and making plans for future hangouts. As we gathered our things to leave, Sean pulled me aside.
“This was fun,” he said. “You guys should definitely come to our place for brunch next weekend. I love to put on a spread and introduce old friends to new ones.”
No wonder George and Liam had become fast friends with Sean and Ren. “That sounds great.”
Then Sean gave a subtle nod toward Artie who was saying goodbye to Parker and Freddie. “And remember, some chances don't come around twice.”
I didn't need to ask what he meant. Our car pulled up and we headed home with Sean's warning ringing in my head the whole way.
When we got home, I followed Artie to the front door. I had this crazy energy still flowing through me from the evening and I didn't know what to do with it.
Artie leaned against the front door, waiting for me to get the keys out. “I forgot how much I missed having queer friends who actually get it.”
“I know, right?” She was the one who got me. She always had.
“I get so tired of the weird assumptions people make. The way some people act like you have to pick a side.” She stretched and yawned. “It's nice to just be yourself without having to explain anything.”
I fumbled with the keys, hyperaware of how close she was standing. “That's exactly what I needed too. People who don't care about football or family names, who just... like us for us.”
“See? I told you making new friends in LA wouldn't be as scary as you thought.”
“You were right. As usual.”
I turned to face her, and suddenly we were standing much closer. Close enough that I could see the flecks of silver in her blue eyes, could count the freckles scattered across her nose. I could smell her strawberry shampoo, could feel the warmth radiating from her body in the cool night air.
She looked up at me, and something shifted in her expression. The easy friendliness was still there, but underneath it was something I refused to acknowledge. Not yet.
“Gryff,” she said quietly.
“Yeah?”
For a moment, I thought she was going to say something that would change everything. Something that would make this conversation about more than just friendship and mutual support.
Instead, she reached around me to unlock the door, her arm brushing against my chest as she did. The brief contact sent electricity through me, and I had to resist the urge to pull her closer.
But neither of us moved to actually go inside. We stood there in the doorway, looking at each other, both of us aware that something had almost happened but neither willing to acknowledge what it was.
Finally, she stepped back slightly and smiled. “Goodnight, Gryff.”
“Goodnight.”
But we still didn't move, both of us lingering in that charged moment until finally, reluctantly, we stepped inside together.
I stood in our living room for a long moment after we'd said our final goodnights and headed upstairs, staring at the ridiculous and cute throw pillows Artie had insisted on buying and trying to process what had almost happened.
Sean's words echoed in my head. Some chances don't come around twice.
He was right. And if Artie was seriously considering moving to Great Britain, my chances were running out fast.