After they had eaten and talked and she had laughed more than she could remember laughing recently, they sat on the sofa with the last of the wine Gemma had brought. Rory’s living room was long and led out to the conservatory, where they had settled, looking at the sunset over the trees. For a moment, they were both content to be in each other’s company and alone in their thoughts. The silence was comfortable and familiar. Eventually Gemma cleared her throat.
“So…” Gemma pulled her phone out and fiddled with it before looking at Rory, her blue eyes expressive. Her face was soft in the sidelights Rory had turned on, and her pupils dilated in the low light. Rory wondered what she was about to say, and her brain raced through a hundred different scenarios, from Gemma meeting someone to her not wanting to be friends with Rory anymore. She told her brain to be quiet and waited for Gemma to say what she needed to.
“I was thinking about what you said last weekend, and I talked to some people at work.”
Rory’s hackles rose. Had Gemma shared her story with strangers? Was her gender crisis a topic for tea breaks at Gemma’s office?
“Calm down, I didn’t mention anything specific.” She put a hand on Rory’s arm. “But I work at a non-profit for queer kids, so we have lots of LGBTQIA staff and supporters and some of them have been where you are.” Gemma shuffled closer to Rory. “I know it feels isolating for you at the moment, but there are so many queer women who have questioned their gender identity. Are you trans? Are you a butch lesbian? Are you nonbinary? I know others who had asked that question, and there is no right answer other that the one that works for you.” Her eyes met Rory’s again, and Rory could feel the compassion shining out of them.
“I…er…Yes, that’s exactly how I feel.” Rory gulped another sip of her wine. “I just don’t know what I am or what I want to be. It’s all so confusing.” She rubbed a hand over her face and turned to look at her friend again.
“Right, shove over.” Gemma put her wine on the coffee table and pushed at Rory’s legs.
Rory startled. Surely Gemma wasn’t going to do what she thought she was going to do, was she? Gemma turned around and positioned her bum in-between Rory’s legs.
“Do you think this is wise?” Rory raised an eyebrow even though Gemma couldn’t see her. “You know, with the wine and everything?”
“Oh, shush!” Gemma wiggled in Rory’s lap and pulled one of Rory’s arms around her.
Rory bit back a moan and willed her libido to pipe down. They had talked about this; it had been her insistence that they don’t take this any further than friendship, andGemma was just being a friend. They had sat like this for hours as teenagers, and it had always been completely innocent.
“Look, these are some of the Instagram accounts I found.”
Rory rested her chin on Gemma’s shoulder and looked at her phone screen. Gemma swiped with her fingers and pulled up an account that was mostly a woman in her underwear.
“G R W M?” Rory was confused. “What does that mean?”
“Get Ready With Me.” Gemma played a video. “She shows the outfits she’s wearing for the day.”
“Why?” Rory looked at the woman on the screen. She had a short haircut and wore men’s clothes but still added makeup. “And why does she keep holding stuff up to the camera?”
“Because she’s advertising the products.” Gemma leaned over and grabbed her wine. As she did, her back rubbed across Rory’s front, and Rory had to bite back another groan.
“Okay.” Rory took a breath and looked at the outfit the woman was wearing. It was nice, but not really her style.
Gemma tapped on her phone again and pulled up another account. “This is another masc lesbian who is fashion focused.”
Rory looked again at the small screen, trying to concentrate on the person showing off clothes rather than the feel of Gemma in her arms. This person had long hair with an undercut and looked quite feminine when her hair was down but looked more butch when it was pulled up. She pulled on a suit, and Rory winced.
“What’s the matter?”Gemma twisted her head around.
“Well, the trousers are different to the jacket.” Rory pulled a face.
“Oh my God you’re a snob!” Gemma twisted on the sofa so she could look Rory in the face. “I never thought that of you. You’re judging her because there’s a slight mismatch with the fabric?”
“Yes. It should be the same or significantly different. That looks poor.” Rory looked Gemma in the eyes. “And having good taste doesn’t mean that I’m a snob.” She sniffed dismissively. “When I was a junior, I had to be in a suit every day, and I quickly learned that a well-made suit pays for itself sooner rather than later.”
Gemma wrinkled her brow for a moment and then leaned back against Rory.
“So, my friend has developed a taste for the finer things in life. Good to know.”
“And I work hard to pay for it. Is that so bad?” Rory felt her defences rising. This had been a constant argument in her house when she was younger. Her parents had come from vastly different backgrounds and had met at university. There had been many evenings where they would argue over how to spend on something, where her father wanted to buy something budget, but her mother was used to buying the best or top of the line. Gemma had been a witness to some of these discussions, especially on holiday, and it made a younger Rory very embarrassed. It was also a cause of friction between her and Darcy. Rory had long been able to buy whatever she wanted but also liked to have a sensible approach to money and save wherever possible. Whereas Darcy had thrown money at the most expensive thing she could get.
“No, I guess not.” Gemma sighed. “But I work withyoung LGBT+ people. Most of them have been kicked out without anything.”
“I can’t imagine how that must be.” Rory tightened her arms around Gemma. “Thank goodness our families have always been so supportive.”
Gemma hummed her agreement and leant back against Rory. Rory luxuriated in the feel of Gemma in her arms and the calmness it brought to her. Then Gemma moved, and all calm thoughts raced from her mind as Gemma’s body moved across hers.
