Chapter 8
eight
. . .
The sun set hours ago, but there’s a neon sign outside Tanner’s living room that bathes her in a pink glow.
It spills through the window in lazy ribbons, brushing over plush cushions and chestnut curls like this was any other evening.
Like this is what Akilah’s life looks like.
Socks digging into rugs and arms slung over the backs of couches she’d never be brave enough to buy.
Tanner’s flat looks like hers. Soft colours, texture everywhere.
Far too many blankets, trinkets on every surface.
Tanner is as far away as she can be without sitting on the floor, but she did invite Akilah round and give her an orange juice.
Akilah has managed to get through several rounds of discussions without dying, though she’s sure most of that is the fact that Tanner practically does a happy dance when she picks something.
And the way she’s wearing Akilah’s top. That helps too.
She’s watching a dust particle float through the light bleeding in through the curtain when she catches Tanner turn to look at her again. It’s a fleeting glance. Akilah isn’t supposed to see it, but she does.
The second time, too.
Akilah frowns at her. Recognises the look. “I know that face.” She says because she does. A little effort, and she knows there’s something she’s not telling her.
Tanner blinks, eyes wide. Subtly nowhere to be seen. “What face?”
She might be wrong. Tanner would be kind even if she were. It’s obvious in the tilt of her brows. “You had forty-seven simultaneous thoughts, and none of them were grounded in reality.”
“Forty-seven?” Tanner mutters, pressing her cheek against the arm of the sofa. Akilah would let her rest her feet in her lap, but if it were something she wanted, she’d ask.
“That’s a highly specific number.”
“And I was lowballing.”
Tanner giggles, and Akilah barely stays alive.
Instead, she pretends to have any thoughts about the lighting if she doesn’t get to see it in Tanner’s eyes. She asks questions about materials she doesn’t care for, just to stay longer.
“We’re going to be best friends,” Tanner says.
“Don’t sound so happy about it.”
She kicks her thigh. Akilah knows that move from books. Flirting, but only if her foot stays against her thigh. It doesn’t, she retreats to her cushion. Sits up, pulling the sleeves of her top against her palm.
“We’re doing the Tanner guide to friendship.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s going to make us best friends within thirty days,” she says seriously.
Akilah narrows her eyes. “You’re unhinged.”
Tanner grins. “I know. Isn’t it fabulous?”
“Are we not already friends?”
Tanner smiles, but it’s not her usual smile. “Sometimes, I let work get in the way of friendships because I’m terrified that I’ll lose it all. And often, it’s fine. I don’t care about them that much.” Tanner chews on her lip.
“Sometimes, they stick regardless. Like Darc, she’s unable not to send thirty texts a day, and I was so lucky that she wanted to be my friend enough to keep at me when I was being the worst.” Tanner takes a deep breath, and Akilah wishes she felt it with her head on her chest, even if Tanner would be able to feel the way her heart is auditioning to be a freight train.
“It’s different with you,” she whispers, though it doesn’t sound like a secret. “I know I want to keep you before I mess it up, so I’m really just taking extra precautions. Sorry if it’s way too much.”
“I like you being too much,” Akilah replies. “I like figuring out the answer to a question that reasonably shouldn’t exist.”
“All my questions are valid.”
Akilah raises an eyebrow, and Tanner scowls at her. She told her something true, that’s all Akilah wants from her. Maybe her heart, too, if she’s lucky enough to figure out how to get it.
“What are the rules?”
Tanner slides down a little again. “Three compliments under duress, ice-cream, a walk in the park and one truth every week.”
Akilah can’t be bothered to move. She wants to live on this couch, but Tanner would look pretty under the glow of the streetlamps. She might even get chilly and walk closer to her. “Now?”
“No,” Tanner replies, shaking her head as if Akilah can’t figure out what no means. “Because you look cosy. We can swap that for something else that I haven’t picked yet.” No one’s ever called Akilah cosy before.
Akilah rubs her thumb against the sofa cushion. She dips her eyes to check she hasn’t worn a hole in it, finds it intact, but keeps her gaze here in case. She looks back up, catches Tanner watching her with wide eyes.
“Do I get preparation time? I want to be good at it.” Akilah might want to be in love with her.
Tanner smiles again. Smaller this time, but just as terrifying. “As your friend, it’s my duty to compliment you now.”
Akilah snorts. “We’re actually doing that?”
“Yes. Three compliments, under duress. It’s bonding. Shhh.”
She faces her completely. Akilah usually can’t take someone staring at her, but Tanner is looking at her shoulder, her elbow, somewhere behind her.
She does this often. Changing things for her, even though they require effort.
She hasn’t quite had the time Akilah has, so it’s not as fluid as it could be.
She looks like a cat chasing lasers, and Akilah wants to keep her, too.
“Akilah Foxx, I think you’re brilliant. I think you’re brave. And I think your sarcasm is a public service.”
Akilah blinks at her and waits for the laughter. The group of people hidden behind the corner jumped out and told her she’s stupid for thinking someone was telling the truth about her, and it happened to be kind.
She waits, finds it’s terrifying and decides to ask. “You’re not going to make a joke?”
“No,” Tanner says, quieter now with a small frown. “Because I meant it.”
Akilah opens her mouth. Closes it again. It should be silly, forcing people to be nice to you, but it’s so clearly meant to be kind that she thinks about the best things to say. Tanner’s toes tap the sofa as she waits.
Then — softly — “Tanner Dean, you are… frustratingly persistent. Recklessly kind, and you make everything less cold.”
Tanner blinks furiously. “Okay, well, now I’m going to cry, which is rude of you.”
Akilah has no desire to keep her emotions in check. She smiles. “You started it.”
Tanner notices because she’s the worst.
“Why, Ilah, you have dimples.”
Immediately, the smile fades, though it takes effort. She clears her throat, crosses her ankles. “No, I don’t.”
“Only because you’re being difficult,” Tanner says. She sinks into the cushions, tapping Akilah’s knee with her toes. They stay there. “You stopped.”
“I wasn’t smiling.”
“I’ve been watching you.”
Akilah arched an eyebrow. “Creep.”
Tanner smiles brightly. Her voice flitted around the room. “Do you want…” she starts, then pauses. “Would it be weird if I … sat here?” she says, moving to the middle seat. “I won’t touch you.”
“Is this a new friendship clause?” Akilah asks, instead of telling her, if she can touch her if she wants.
They’ve been together for hours already, and though Akilah is fine, she doesn’t want to push it.
At best, she leaves in a flurry. At worst, she has to explain to Tanner how she has green and red zones on her own body.
“It’s an optional add-on,” Tanner says with a nod. “Very trendy.”
“Mm-hmm. What’s your truth, and where is my ice-cream?”
Tanner grumbles, her knee brushing against hers as she gets comfy. True to her word, she doesn’t touch her at all, though Akilah can feel the warmth of her body from this distance.
“I might have an ice pole in the freezer.”
Akilah wonders if she should push it. Or if it’s kinder to give Tanner the out.
“And your truth for the week?”
Tanner looks at her, seems to think they’re too close and looks back at her lap. “You’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.”
She says it so casually, like she believes everything she’s saying.
There’s no for. You’re the prettiest woman I’ve seen for a trans woman.
For a brown woman. For a tall woman. It throws Akilah off, makes every bad thought she’s ever had disappear for a moment.
Embarrassingly makes everything she’s done worth it.
“You always are,” Tanner says, running her fingers across the blanket. “Even when you stomp away from me, refusing to look in my direction.”
“Oh my God,” Akilah groans, leaning her head back and sliding down the couch to the sound of Tanner’s laugh. She’s spent the entirety of the time she’s known her, not looking at designs and instead learning the tone of her voice, so she knows she’s teasing her. “You are so rude.”
Tanner hums. “What’s your truth?”
Oh.
“I don’t know how to want something as much as I want to be friends with you,” she says before she can figure out that’s a bit much. “And I think your face should be on billboards.”
Tanner blinks. Her nose is scrunching, which means she’s blushing even if Akilah can’t see it. “That’s two,” she whispers.
“Do you think the Tanner friendship guide will still work?”
“I have it on good authority that you’ve never failed at anything.” Akilah is good at hiding her emotions, but it’s rare that someone is aiming to kill with as much precision as Tanner.
Tanner smiles, blindingly beautiful as she watches her process. Then, she’s not looking at her anymore, but still she says, “You’re smiling.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You are.”
Akilah looks down at her hands. At the blanket. At their knees, touching slightly beneath on the couch.
“…Okay,” she says quietly. “Maybe I am.”