“Oh, okay, um, why don’t you come in? I’ll be right back. This is my sister, Tahira. She’ll probably ask you who you’re wearing. If she asks you to model, she’s not being creepy—she’s studying fashion and is always looking for tall people.”
Even before I was upstairs, I had a FaceTime call open with Cass. “Can you tell me why Owen is here to drive us to the dance?”
Cass cringed. “Damn it. He called my bluff.”
“Um, what bluff?”
Cass sat on their bed. They were in their room wearing a gray dress shirt, with the top two buttons open. “He’s sooo stubborn. That’s bad in a relationship, right?”
I sat on my own bed. “Cass, it’s time for you to actually talk to me about what the hell is going on between the two of you. And somewhat quickly, too, because right now he’s in the living room alone with Tahira. I give her about thirty minutes before she’s convinced him to get his whole hockey team here to model her new sweatshirt line.”
Cass shook their head.
“Spill, bestie.”
Cass sighed. “Fine. I did what you said—I told him I’d go on a date with him.”
“OMG! Yay, Cass! Finally! So why did you say he called your bluff?”
Cass shook their head. “I tested him—I said I’d only go on this date if it met my parameters.”
I raised a brow. “Parameters?”
“I learned from you. I said our first date had to be the fall formal, and you’d be with us, too. He’d have to wear a suit and everything. And I’d be wearing a suit, too. And we’d have to slow dance, and post at least three pictures of us on each of our Instas where it’s obvious that we’re on a date.”
I laughed. “These parameters are perfect. He looks very good in a suit. Why’d you think he wouldn’t agree to all that?”
“You don’t get it, Samaya! I told him this, like, an hour and a half ago! He doesn’t own a suit that fits him since he had a major growth spurt last year.”
“Well, the one he’s wearing now fits him well. Really well.”
“How the hell did he get a suit so fast? I can’t even imagine someone willing to do all that.”
I laughed because it was so funny to see normally stoic Cass freaking out. “Of course he’s willing! That boy is completely nuts for you. Cass, why are you so scared of Owen?” That was the burning question. Cass had dated people before—even before I’d started dating Devin, actually—but not since coming out as nonbinary last year. “Is it the hockey? He’s already introduced you to his team. And I thought he was out, anyway.”
“He is. But, I mean, I met them all as his friend. And it’s not just them. I think it’s one thing for him to have a nonbinary friend and totally another to date them, right? He’s, like, I don’t know. A catch. He can get anyone. Why deal with my weirdness?”
I smiled. “I happen to adore your weirdness. Maybe you should let Owen decide what he’s willing to deal with?”
Cass sighed.
The thing was, even though Cass didn’t like to talk much about what they were feeling, Iknewthem. And I knew Cass wasn’t only reacting this way because they thought Owen wasn’t ready to date a nonbinary person. Cass themselves was also nervous to start dating with their brand-new gender identity. And I knew they’d become quite closewith Owen, even if just as a friend, so taking it to the next level was a big risk. “And clearly Owen’s decided hewantsto deal with you. And he looks like a complete snack. He’s even got a boutonniere for your suit.”
“Damn. He doesn’t even like flowers.”
“You can’t go back on your word now. I sent Daniel that message, so now you have to go out with Owen. Hey, why did you tell him to pick you up here, anyway?”
Cass raised one brow. “Um, because I’m supposed to be there in, like, fifteen minutes to pick you up? You and me are going together, aren’t we? Why aren’t you dressed?”
“I’m not dressed because I’m not going to the dance!”
“What are you talking about? Of course you’re going to the dance!”
“Did you forget that Daniel and I broke up?”
“So? That means you’re not going? Daniel doesn’t even go to Earl’s! You’re going to get a bunch of awards, aren’t you?”
I frowned. I’d told Tahira I wasn’t going when I asked her to cancel the dress, but now that I thought about it, it was possible I’d failed to tell anyone else. “Yeah, but—”
