“What did you want to talk about?”Ellery sat beside him on a bench.
He exhaled deeply, closing his eyes.He could do this.Even if it hurt, it was important if things were going to go any further.And he so desperately wanted that, wanted it with her.
Of course, the last time he had tried to talk to a girl he liked about his transition, it had not gone well.She had thought he was joking, and then she went and hooked up with Casper.
So…the track record was not on Dante’s side.
But Ellery was different, wasn’t she?And he was so very, very tired of being closeted around her.
“Okay.”He cleared his throat.His mouth felt incredibly dry all of a sudden, and the heavy breeze off the marina wasn’t helping.“The thing is, um, when Casper and I were born, the doctor made a mistake.They gave Casper the right gender and me, the wrong one.”He couldn’t look at her face, not yet.He just had to get this out.Even without knowing how she would respond, it felt so incredibly freeing to be himself.“So, when I was like, twenty, I started on testosterone.When we met, I’d already been on it for a while.”He paused, the keening of his heart too great to ignore any longer.Even if it hurt, he had to see her reaction.
A single tear collected at the corner of her eye, and she wiped it away with the knuckle of her index finger.“So…you haven’t changed your mind about Adam Lambert?”
“What?”He laughed, the feeling so buoyant and unexpected that he couldn’t contain it.It bubbled out of him in chortle-snorts.
“I am so sorry, Dante.I shouldn’t have made a joke.I am such a mess.”She was crying more now, but she took her hands in his.“I—I don’t know what the right thing to say is at this moment.I cannot tell you how touched and, I don’t know, humbled I am?That you would trust me with this.Thank you.”She wiped away more tears with the heels of her hands, but they kept falling.He couldn’t leave it like that, he couldn’t, so he took the cuff of his sleeve and used it to dab at her lovely face.Her warm tears melted into the fabric.She sniffed.“I wish I knew what to say to make you know that I really like you, Dante.Even with your very wrong opinions about Adam Lambert, you are the coolest person I know.Thank you for telling me.I might not know the right thing to say now, but I promise, if you give me a chance, I can learn.I’ll try.”
They stayed that way for a few long moments, his body still heaving from the adrenaline of the conversation.But it felt cathartic, more than painful.There was hope here.“Ellery?”
“Yes?”
“Can we go somewhere?I’d love to spend more time with you.”
Ellery stood from the bench, wiping away the last of her tears, and extended her hand to him.As he reached for her, his cuff slid up his arm, exposing the dove to the light.
“I’d really like that too, Dante.”
* * *
Ellery’s versionof fun was not exactly the same as Dante’s, but he would roll with it.Hell, he would roll with anything if she went with him.
He sipped his beer, unable to keep the grin from his face.Adrenaline and spending time with the girl of his dreams did that for him.“So, you found a rocking open mic bar with its own microbrew?This is so SoCal.”
She laughed, the sound bright and brilliant.“Don’t hate on it just because you’ve been following shipboard rules for two years.It’s like you joined the Coast Guard, Mr.Shipshape.”
“Not exactly.”The singer on stage was trying, but couldn’t get the chords right in “Purple Rain.”Dante’s fingers tapped rhythmically against the frosty glass, keeping time.Thank goodness she had forgiven him for being such an ass about his brother.Even though he knew comparing himself to Casper was ridiculous, he couldn’t always help it.
Ellery watched his fingers move against the glass, like she knew exactly what he was doing and why.“So, Dante.Tell me, why don’t you want to be famous?”
“What?”He coughed, trying to cover his surprise.
“You.”She tapped his shin lightly with the toe of her sneaker.“You’re an incredible musician.You play at least three instruments better than anyone I know, probably more because you’re so humble you won’t admit it.You have a great voice.So why aren’t you out there more?”
He begged to differ about his voice.“On what?Social media?”He took a long draft of beer as it was easier than admitting the truth.“That cesspit?”
She rolled her eyes, and it made something flutter deep inside him.“Fair, but you’re stalling.”
He swallowed, the taste of the beer still coating his tongue.If he focused on the drips of condensation instead of on her, on how she made him feel, maybe he could get through this conversation.
“I—I don’t know.Maybe it’s because I don’t want to have to pretend to be someone I’m not.I don’t want to hide, but I’m definitely not ready to live out in the cis world.”He paused, and felt her waiting, not eager to jump in.He liked that, how she didn’t jump on top of his words, but gave him the space to get them out.“I see musicians and actors all the time.They say they won’t be something else, but then they change somewhere along the way.Or something happens that forces them out of the closet before they’re ready.”
She paused, but he nodded, indicating he was finished with his mini monologue.“I get that.I do.But shouldn’t you take a chance?To be happy?To find your own success?”
Warmth rose within him, and he shifted in his seat to minimize his discomfort.What would success be for him?He’d been “successful” on the cruise ships.He’d been the go-along guy, ready to step in anywhere at any time with the right chords and melody.That didn’t mean he wanted to go back to that.
The guy apologetically butchering “Purple Rain” had stopped and now there was a male duet on stage singing Poison.
Desperately, he needed a change of subject.She hadn’t brought up his transness explicitly since their conversation, but she seemed to be processing it in her own Ellery-way.“So, oh wise one, why don’t you ever want to sing your original songs in public?”
