Chapter 9 #3
“There was this social media dog who learned to communicate by pressing buttons that said words in English. As her vocabulary grew, she started to say things like ‘What Bunny? What Mom? What dog?’. She began to grasp concepts of time, space, and existence that were too much to bear, and she became depressed.”
Wes stared at me. “You watched a dog on the Internet have an existential crisis?”
As if we’d bummed them out, the women quietly walked away and mumbled something about needing a drink.
“You speak like such a boomer sometimes,” I said to Wes.
He lowered his head closer to mine, flashing that disarming smile. “I’m a boomer at heart, baby.”
The nearly imperceptible hint of southern twang in his gravelly voice, the intense eye contact, the proximity, and the casual pet name were too much. We both pulled back from each other at the same time.
My body was stiff as we walked through a purple curtain to the next room. I nearly yelped in surprise, greeted by a woman writhing in a pile of dirt, covered in red paint. She was screaming silently as she contorted her body into unnatural shapes. The small crowd watched her in reverent silence.
“It’s giving Carrie,” I whispered to Wes.
A short bald man in a flashy green blouse craned his head toward us, red wine nearly spilling out of his glass. “It’s actually an exploration of gender.” He explained in a loud whisper. “So, more like The Substance.”
“My bad,” I said.
Wes covered up his laugh with a cough.
“We haven’t met,” he said slowly, eyeing Wes even as he reached his hand out to me. “I’m Max. How do you two know Onyx?”
I shook his hand, nodding at Wes with a smile. It was his idea to sneak in, so it was his responsibility to world-build our lie palace.
“At a poly and ENM mixer,” Wes said.
I dug my nails into my palm to keep from bursting into laughter. That was an insane thing to guess about a stranger.
Max nodded. “For sure, for sure. I love that even the straights are getting experimental these days.”
“Totally,” I said with a nod.
“Oh, there’s Onyx,” Max said, flagging down a petite woman with black bangs who looked wildly stressed. I assumed she was the person in charge of this whole affair.
“Time to go,” Wes whispered, placing my hand on his arm again.
We slipped from the room, ignoring the confused call from our new friend Max. When we were back out on the street, I was laughing, and Wes was watching me laugh. A strand of my hair got caught in my lipstick, and Wes moved it out of my face before quickly retracting his hand.
“Are you ethically non-monogamous?” I asked out of curiosity, assuming everyone in the kink scene was on some level.
Wes’s lips twitched. “No. I’m getting you a car.”
“Oh. Okay.” I deflated at the abrupt end to the night, but I wasn’t sure why. Something about the evening with him made me feel raw and far too exposed. “How are you going to call a car without a phone?”
Within thirty seconds, Wes had hailed a cab using only the power of his hand.
“You’re a magician,” I whispered in awe.
He opened the door for me. “Goodnight, Nova.” He tapped on the driver’s window and handed him what looked like sixty dollars, more than enough for fare and a tip.
“You don’t have to—” I protested.
“Yes, I do,” Wes said. “Thanks for keeping me company.”
I gave up, sitting back in my seat. “Thanks for the car. And the… egg cream. Goodnight, Wes.”
He nodded and closed the door, a faint smile on his lips. I wondered why we couldn’t share a cab home, since we were heading in the same direction—unless Wes wasn’t going home. I moved my eyes from him to the driver. It wasn’t my business how Wes spent the rest of his night.
I told the driver my address. As the car sped away, I didn’t understand the emotion that came over me.
It was sort of like the feeling I had when I stared out the car window as a child, daydreaming up different realities.
In the worlds I built myself, I had a new family, a new body, a new name, a new everything.
Jayne hadn’t told me something I didn’t already know. Of course, I knew Nova was Latin for new. I’d picked the name myself. I’d chosen everything about my life myself, rather than letting my family and my church choose everything for me like they’d planned.
As I watched the sparkling expanse of the city pass outside my window while we crossed the Williamsburg Bridge, I didn’t dull my emotions with irony or the distraction of my phone or the sweet escape of denial. I allowed myself to earnestly feel what I felt, even if it hurt.
Just like when I was a child, trapped in a hostile environment and desperate for freedom, I wanted something I didn’t know how to ask for. I didn’t have the words. All I could do was feel, dream, and yearn.
When I was home, I still didn’t scroll on my phone. The only thing I did was finally enter Wes’s number into my contacts.
My fingers hovered over a new text conversation. I typed and then deleted and then tried again. I made one final attempt before giving up. I turned off the light, pet Inara, and closed my eyes.
I wanted something I couldn’t have.