10. Chapter 10
Chapter ten
Ray
“ W hat can I get you, doll?” Our purple-haired server slides into the booth next to me.
Their blouse matches their hair. I’m almost certain their nametag said Zo last time we were here with Jordie’s friends. And over the weekend when I came for brunch with my aunts, but today it reads Orchid. The purple enamel pin next to it on their vest says they/them. Come to think of it, I think their hair was teal last week too. Huh.
Jordie bats their lashes playfully from across the table. Their eyes dart to the nametag. “What’s good today, Orchid?”
Orchid lean conspiratorially close and Jordie mirrors them, forearms on the table, clasped hands inches away from my place setting. Orchid winks at us, a twinkle in their eyes. “Not Neve’s Paleo kelp noodle stir-fry, but don’t tell her I said that. Her pizza chicken yesterday wasn’t half bad.”
“Pizza chicken?” I repeat, unsure I’m understanding correctly. Chicken on pizza seems remarkably normal compared to kelp noodles.
“Mhm.” Orchid nods. “Basically what it sounds like. It’s a pizza, but instead of a crust, she pounded a chicken filet flat and pan-fried it. Low carb and gluten-free.”
Jordie and I exchange looks. That is not something I would have thought of, but it doesn’t sound half bad. Kelp noodles on the other hand… I’ll pass on that.
“Um, want to split an appetizer sampler?” I ask. It was delicious when Jacob ordered that and foisted his food on everyone the other night, but I’m not sure I can handle an entire order on my own.
“Sure, that sounds good.” Jordie sets aside their menu and smiles at me before addressing Orchid. “We’ll get the sampler plate to share, and I’ll have a milkshake. Strawberry, please, Orchid. Plus whatever else Ray wants, and one check, it’s on me.”
“Coming right up.” Orchid turns their bright customer service smile toward me. “Can I get you a drink too, doll?”
I flush at the pet name even though it’s probably what Orchid calls all the customers they don’t know.
“Coffee, please.”
“Great, I’ll be right back with that. Cream and sugar are just there.” Orchid jabs her pen toward the little bowl of coffee fixings, then tucks their pen behind their ear as they stand to collect our menus. Their retro skirt flounces as they walk away. Leaving me alone, sitting across from my crush at a restaurant.
This isn’t a date. Maybe if I tell myself that enough I’ll stop feeling so awkward and nervous.
Well, maybe it is a study date, but that’s not the same thing at all. We were supposed to be meeting two of our psych 101 classmates to cram for the first exam. Except they bailed at the last minute so it’s just me and Jordie pulling out our notes and the study guide the prof posted.
“So, you were saying you needed to brush up on the last few lectures?” Jordie prompts me when I spend too long arranging and rearranging my notes in front of me to avoid awkward eye contact. My brain is putting way too much emphasis on the date part of study date now. It feels like we’re starting to be real friends who go out and do fun things together. Like the arboretum, shopping, and drag night. Date type things.
They rest cool fingers on the back of my hand to stop me from straightening my notes for the third time. I glance up and Jordie is smiling at me, their head cocked and eyes full of warmth for an overall expression somewhere between bemused and reassuring. I take a deep breath, yeah, okay, I need to chill. This is just like the dozens of other times we’ve met up to study this semester.
“Yeah. Sorry, I might be getting too in my head about exams? Test anxiety. Also, I guess I’m just not getting how they got some of these experiments past ethical review panels.”
“Well, I mean, most of them didn’t have much in the way of ethical oversight until the 1950s, and even then, it was only because enough people got mad.”
Orchid comes back over with our drinks, pouring steaming hot coffee into my mug and sliding Jordie’s milkshake in front of them. Jordie thanks them by name and nudges my foot under the table so that I do the same. Orchid beams at us and tells us our food will be right out. I raise my brows in question and Jordie leans across the table, waiting until Orchid is out of earshot to explain.
“What’s up? I swear they were going by a different name last time we were here.”
Jordie nods. “Yeah, they typically default to Zo and she/them. But they’ve been experimenting with names and pronouns for a while now. Trying on different combinations to see how they fit.”
“Oh.” Like me. Except I agonized over what name to change to for ages before finally settling on Ray.
Even then, the first time I actually said it aloud to another soul was with Jordie. Because I had it in my head that once I let the new name slip past my lips, it would be stamped indelibly onto my soul. No going back or changing it. Which, in retrospect, seems silly. If I can change it once, I can change it again. But it felt huge and I’m attached to the name after years of using it in my head. Plus, it sounds so good when Jordie calls me Ray.
Orchid seemed so happy when we both used their name, so maybe there’s something to be said for getting a feel for how a name fits before committing.
Jordie takes a sip of their milkshake and I can’t help staring at them as they purse their lips and suck. “Mhm, they don’t like that one; it’ll be different by dinner shift.”
“Huh? How can you tell?” I thought Orchid seemed happy.
“Their smile didn’t reach their eyes. Mark my words, Orchid isn’t the one.” Jordie grins at me like we’re sharing a secret. “Anyway, mind if I move over beside you so all this isn’t upside down for one of us? Might make sharing the food easier too.”
Do I mind having them squished in close? Uh, not by a long shot. It’s a toss up whether that will be better for curbing my horny thoughts compared to sitting facing them as they suck their thick milkshake through their straw. Ugh. I’m doomed to having half my focus on keeping my attraction to myself either way.
“Um, sure, plenty of room,” I pat the vinyl beside me and slide a little further down the booth.
“Cool, grab anything you need from your bag and I’ll stick it over here out of the way?” Jordie reaches for my school bag. I dutifully remove a couple of extra pencils and paper, then hand it over.
Jordie settles in beside me with a happy wiggle and a sigh. “Much better,” they grin as they turn their pile of study materials to face us both. We go back to comparing notes on our study guides while we wait for our food.
I guzzle my coffee every time Jordie’s flirty energy gets too intense, trying to mask how flustered their focus makes me. Which happens often. They have this way of leaning in close and casually touching me. Their finger brushes my hand as they point to a line on the printout of key topics I’m filling out. Their knee bumps into mine when I hand them my notebook to ask if they caught a section I missed when my pencil broke in the middle of a lecture.
“It was last Wednesday, when we were talking about Freud versus Erikson?” I point to the missing lines where I left space to fill in the gaps.
Jordie barks a laugh, then winks at me. “Oh, Freud? He’s a mess. I mean, you want to talk about psychosexual stuff, what’s with men’s clothing overcompensating for cis dudes’ natal lack of—ahem—pockets, right?”
“Oh my gosh, yes!” I agree with a startled laugh.
It’s so true. The new pants we got together have pockets big enough to swallow my entire forearm. My phone and wallet both fit comfortably, a feat unheard of with the pants I had before, let alone the skin-tight leggings and skirts Jordie wears most days.
Maybe the psychosexual model of development got debunked, but it sure feels like everything has a subconscious sexual undercurrent right now. That might have more to do with the fact I’m sitting thigh to thigh with this vibrantly delightful person I want desperately to kiss.
“I’m pretty sure he said that line from the study guide word for word at the end of last Thursday’s lecture, just a second.” They flip through their notes and nudge the page between us. I lean in to read what they jotted down. Jordie has really pretty handwriting, which is distracting.
I reach to tuck my hair behind my ear, only to remember that it’s short now. At the last second, I change the gesture to rub at the back of my head instead. The velvet softness of my short hair sends a thrilled jolt of remembrance through me. I have a guy’s haircut now. Thanks to Jordie—the first person to see me as the guy I am. Warmth unfurls in my chest at that reminder, how can I help liking them when they make me feel so right?
“Here.” Jordie taps their notes. “Our prof was just outlining their theories of development and comparing them.”
They nudge the page closer, leaning into my space to point at the lines in question. I lean in too. With us both bent over their notebook, I can feel their breath hot on my cheek. It’s so absurdly intimate to huddle over the same papers together, our knees bumping.
It’s so easy to picture other reasons for getting this close to each other. All of them have me aching to turn my face for a kiss that surely wouldn’t be reciprocated. Soon, I’m gulping imaginary sips from my empty cup and wishing I had more coffee and more charisma.
“Sorry to interrupt, but your food’s ready.” Zo—Orchid no longer written on their nametag in magenta dry-eraser—interrupts my horny thoughts about Jordie with their return.
The smudged out letters have been replaced with Kal. The pronoun pin next to it remains unchanged. They slide our brimming platter of appetizers in front of us, along with a stack of extra napkins. I’m not really surprised that Jordie was right about them not loving the name Orchid. They have a way of seeing people that I envy.
“Thanks, Kal,” Jordie says. “Orchid wasn’t doing it for you?”
Kal scrunches their nose. “Nope. Destiny suggested it, so I promised the kiddo I’d give it a try, but it’s too fancy and floral for me. Maybe she can name her kitten that.”
“Are you caving on the kitten?” Jordie asks, reaching for a fry.
“Maybe for her birthday. Mom suggested putting the litter box in the weird little nook by the balcony, so they’re wearing me down. Who knew Grandma would side with the kid?” Kal chuckles as they roll their eyes. They jut their chin at the notes we’ve spread across the table. “Anyway, how are classes going?”
“Good. We can clear out after we eat if you need us to.” Jordie gestures at our stuff spreading across the table.
“Pshaw.” Kal waves them away. “Please, you’re fine. It’s quiet this time of day, no worries. Stay as long as you like.”
“Thanks. Can you drop off a carafe of coffee when you get a chance? Ray keeps sighing into his empty mug.” Jordie nudges me playfully. Their fingers on my elbow send a zing right through me.
I flush at the realization they noticed I’ve been out of a coffee for a while. And I keep forgetting and lifting it to my lips to hide my awkwardness around them. Like a total loser. I feel my face heating, and I take another frazzled sip of nothing. Real smooth. I hunch in my seat. Jordie shakes their head at me, lips pinched tight like they’re trying to suppress a smile, but don’t want to rub in my utter lack of anything approaching chill.
“Sure, be right back with more coffee. Do you want another mug or a refill on the shake?” Kal smiles between the two of us and points at Jordie’s almost empty glass.
Jordie looks chagrinned. “Can I split the difference and get a coffee shake next, Kal?”
“Sure thing.” Kal flounces away again.
“Dig in.” Jordie passes me one of the tiny plates that Kal left on the table next to the food for us. I take mine and watch as they fill their plate. Until Jordie glances up at me, with a defensive hunch to their shoulders. “What?”
“Nothing.” I squeak, voice going up an octave. That makes me wince. My voice is too high by half most of the time without nerves making it weird. I reach for some of the fried pickles and onion rings that are calling my name. It will be harder to be awkward if I’ve got my mouth stuffed.
Oh fuck, and now I’m thinking of what parts of their anatomy I’d love for Jordie to stuff into my mouth. Or other orifices. Do they even top? I shouldn’t ask them that.
I mean, I know for sure they have a dick after changing in their room with them the other night. As if that wasn’t clear after my accidental bout of sitting in their lap the day we met. But… ugh. No. Nope. Not thinking about my friend’s genitals and what they like to do with them.
“You good, sunshine?” Jordie is watching me with concern.
“Yeah. Totally. So good. Um. Just nervous. About the test. Obviously.” I laugh like a weirdo.
Jordie pats my shoulder. “You’re going to do fine. Is this your first university midterm?”
“Yeah.” I nod, swallowing down the lump in my throat. I really am nervous about that.
CEGEP was so different from high school and then coming here has been different in new and not so exciting ways all over again. It’s a whole new world to navigate and I’m not sure if I’m really cut out for this. Huge impersonal lecture halls and proctored exams where I barely know my professors and just—it’s a lot.
Jordie is the only reason I’m not totally overwhelmed and considering calling my folks to get me a one-way plane ticket home. I don’t want to give up. It’s just harder being away from home than I thought it would be.
Even if this fresh start was exactly what I needed to feel comfortable being myself. The anonymity that makes me feel small and insignificant in this city and my new school also makes it feel safe to be myself with Jordie.
Jordie has somehow become my safe space in the short time I’ve known them. I don’t want to lose their friendship by giving up and going home. Which means I need to prove to myself that I can handle the stress and the rigorous academics and all of this.
Jordie slides even closer in the booth. Their thigh presses against mine and it’s like I can feel their body heat searing into me. I have to close my eyes against all the other ways I want them to touch me as they rub a comforting circle on my back.
“We are going to ace this test, Ray. Let’s go over the entire study guide and then we can do my flashcards before we focus on the areas where you’ve been struggling. Sound good?”
“You made flashcards?” I turn to look at them, which puts a little space between us so I can clear my head of pointless fantasies.
“Yep, it’s my not so secret weapon.” Jordie nods and plucks up a fry to gesture with before dipping it into the dregs of their milkshake. “Usually just writing out all the main points is enough to get them to stick in my head, but they’re good for reviewing too.”
I grab another fried pickle as I nod. “Mhm, sounds good.” I take my time chewing as I shuffle through my notes for the study guide. They wink at me, shuffling closer on the bench seat to share their stack of flashcards, our knees bumping under the table. Neither of us moves away.
Their body heat is a warm flush along my skin, making me acutely aware of their presence beside me. I’m not imagining them flirting; except what if I am and I make things weird by reciprocating something that isn’t really there? Nope. Better to shove my crush way down deep inside, where it will never see the light of day.
Jordie wraps their lips around their fry to lick creamy milkshake off the tip. They have to realize how suggestive that looks, right? I feel myself flushing hot at the sexy sight. I’m sorely tempted to harken back to our earlier banter and throw out a cheesy pickup line about them being welcome in my pockets any day. Except I’m way too much of a chicken to flirt so outrageously.
I’ve got plenty of practice with keeping my personal crap to myself. For all that I cut my hair and changed my wardrobe, my parents still don’t know I’m trans. Not because I think they’ll freak out or anything. Just, I can’t count how many times Mom told me how badly they both wanted a little girl after my three older brothers. The last thing I want to do is disappoint them.
“Help me finish these?” Jordie suggests, dabbing at their mouth with their napkin and nudging the plate of fries closer to me.
“Sure, thanks.” I take one, but my mouth goes dry as I watch Jordie drag another fry through their drink. “This place has the best fries. And pie, and coffee, and basically everything I’ve tried so far.” I’m rambling and I know it, but I can’t tear my eyes off Jordie’s mouth. Their lips wrapped around the cream-covered fry. It’s impossible to stop musing about how it would feel to kiss them. “But you know, I’ve been wondering, who’s Randy?”
“Definitely Jacob.” Jordie winks, another shake-laden fry halfway to their lips. “But Celeste swears she met the actual Randy at a ballroom event a couple of her high school friends invited her to attend at Boston GLASS. She says Randy is a local chapter house father in the ballroom scene. She says he owns the diner along with his sister and her wife.”
“Oh, cool. So he’s a dancer?” I ask, still distracted by the sight of Jordie licking the dripping milkshake from their fry.
“Something like that.” Jordie gives me a lopsided grin. “Ballroom as in the origins of drag, not like stuffy straight dance competitions, just to be clear. And Boston GLASS is a queer community center for Black and Latinx youth. So, if Celeste’s right, Randy is all about creating safe spaces for the queer community to flourish.”
“That fits the vibe.” I nod. Then I cram more fries into my mouth to keep from blurting out an ill-advised corny pick up line. Some nonsense about vibes and how watching them eat has got me envious of a pile of fries.
I shouldn’t let my hopeless crush distract me from my goals. I’ve long since given up on ever living up to my older siblings’ academic examples. It seems like they’ve always known who they are and what they want while I floundered through school. At least I finally settled on a career path, even if counseling troubled teens isn’t quite as fancy and well paid as their prestigious careers: doctor, lawyer, and engineer.
Northeastern is as far as I’ve let myself dream. A place far from home, where I can figure out who I am before I have to figure out how to tell my folks I was never their precious little girl. I know that’s not the only thing my family loves about me, but internalizing that it’s the best way I stand out from my brothers is a factor in my fear of coming out to my family. If I do well here, it might soften the blow of telling them I’m a boy.
While I’m dwelling on my family, Jordie finishes the last few fries. I’m too busy stress eating all the other fried deliciousness to worry about that. My stomach is roiling with nerves over the test, and how much pressure I’m putting on myself to get good grades this year to make up for not being the girl my folks expect me to be.
“So, do you want to read the first question?” Jordie nudges me, and my acute awareness of how close we’re sitting has my mind straying right back to horny thoughts about them.
I have no business wondering about how Jordie likes to fuck. Even if they offered to take me to an adult store to find a packer when I mentioned feeling weird with the loose drape of my new boxer briefs. And how the men’s pants they helped me shop for fit me funny in the front. For now, I’ve still got a rolled up sock safety pinned to the front of my underwear to help with the fit issue, but that lack still makes me self-conscious.
“Hey, are you listening?” Jordie interrupts me before I can get too far down the rabbit hole of how awkward a visit to the sex shop with my crush would be.
“Sorry. No. I got distracted.” I flush and squirm at the idea of browsing sex toys with them.
Jordie rolls their eyes at me, but they repeat the study question. We alternate asking and answering the rest of the questions on the study guide as we demolish the sampler platter. In the end, there’s only a few sad crumbs and soggy nachos left when Kal comes to clear away our plates.
We work our way through Jordie’s flashcards for the next hour. They weren’t joking when they said they knew this stuff. I have to go through the deck a few times before the stack of cards that have me stumped dwindles to almost nothing. Jordie explains the more difficult concepts with an eternal patience that makes it easy to see why they’re planning to take on injustice and tilt at windmills as an attorney. I can picture that same dogged conviction serving them well in fighting for minority rights.
Their constant upbeat encouragement settles my nerves about the exam. It isn’t doing a damn thing to help with my hopeless crush though. It feels good to have someone believe in me so unreservedly and give me this much time and attention.
My folks have always doted on me, but with four kids to cart between activities and busy careers, there wasn’t always time. This much one-on-one focus on my studies was a rarity with me being the unplanned baby of the family.
“Atta boy, you’ve totally got this!” Jordie wraps an arm around me when I get through all the cards without missing one.
They ruffle my hair and pull me into a side hug that has me hyperaware of their chest’s yielding softness pressed against me when I hug them back. I’m not sure which makes my heart pound faster, the affirming praise or the physical affection. Both have me walking on cloud nine and totally convinced that I can tackle the world and ace this first big test. Prove to myself that I made the right call coming here, plans or not. The more time I spend with Jordie, the more sure I am that this is exactly where I need to be.