Some people on the Internethatedher.
“You know, it takes a lot of slut shaming and biphobia to shock a Groton School alum,” Puff said, tapping her chest, “but I think some of these are real bad takes.”
“I don’t think you’re a home-wrecker,” Snowy said earnestly. “Like, you were with Tom first. Saying otherwise denies Boyd’s agency.”
Rose looked again through the comments.
“People are makingdeath threats?” she squeaked.
Snowy snatched the phone away from her. “Okay, don’t worry about those. I get, like, three a week, just from antis. That’s just fandom.”
“No, adding you is just, like, a big adjustment for everyone,” Puff hastened to reassure her. “But I get it! I was a Boyd/Reader person for two years—”
“You are so brave to admit that.” Snowy interjected.
“Shut up, Snowy. But anyway, Tomboy was my OTP for the last year. Still. I think I could come around on you.”
Puff and Snowy gazed anxiously at Rose. “If you wanted us to,” Puff added. “You guys are cute together. Itdoesmake sense. Order and chaos. Balance.”
Rose finished with a curtain panel and took another from the pile. The inn was really reclaiming its feminine energy these days, even if everyone here was revolving in Tom and Boyd’s orbit. The curtains were lace. The wallpaper was birds. This would be a wonderful place for weddings when she was done with it.
“Guys, you know I wasn’t serious when I said I’m the dom in a tragically under-negotiated kink relationship with Tom and Boyd,” Rose said, trying to keep it breezy. “I did not actually crate train Boyd Kellagher. Tom does not actually tongue-wash my kitchen at home.”
“I mean, yes,” said Puff.
“But also no,” said Snowy. “I know you weren’t serious. But we could be serious. You should see some of the videos we have. Puff could make some new art. We want to support you.”
“I don’t think anyone needs to stop having fun with the idea of Tom and Boyd together just because Tom and I—well, things are still up in the air,” Rose said slowly, not sure what she ought to be sharing with these two and, by extension, the Internet.
The girls paused.
“Oh,” Snowy said with faint disappointment. “You and Tom?”
“I mean, maybe me and Tom,” Rose said. “We’ve got a lot to work out.”
Or, really, Rose had a lot to work out. She’d spent her whole life imagining one kind of future for herself, and she could admit that that future wasn’t going to happen. She was instead trying to take stock of what shedidhave: the inn, which her family would hopefully love when it was done; this unexpectedly fun experience realizing her pink, bird-accented renovation dreams with Boyd Kellagher and Ximena Tejeda-Souza and all these teenage weirdos; and also, maybe—maybe—something unconventional with Tom.
Puff bit her lip. “So, people aren’t really imagining you withTom.”
Snowy passed her the phone again, filling the screen with a piece of fan art.
It wasn’t Puff’s work—it was gestural and monochrome rather than color block—but the unknown artist had clear drafting ability. Which they had used to depict three very happy, very naked people having an Eiffel Tower–shaped sexual encounter. The artist had a fantastic grasp of the human form and anatomical detail, and backs were arched, stomachs were taut, lips were slack—
“Oh God,” said Rose. That was her. And Tom. AndBoyd.
Somewhere in the back of Rose’s mind, two soundtracks began playing. A reproachful “Ave Maria” warred with a low, suggestive seventies funk beat.
“That’s…that’s…uh,” Rose said, struggling to identify the socially appropriate response to reviewing art of herself sexually pleasing two men at the same time. Puff and Snowy seemed to be waiting for a reaction akin to receiving an early birthday gift.Oh, for me? Pornography? You shouldn’t have!
“I know!” Snowy said, fanning herself. “Isn’t it amazing? The artist cross-posted a safe-for-work version too, and it’s doing huge numbers. This really feels like a tipping point.”
Puff leaned in, raptly interested. “So?” she asked Rose.
“So?” Rose replied, confused.
“So what are you going to do?”
Rose thought she was going to have a large glass of wine with dinner and avoid eye contact with Boyd for a while. Was there anything else she could possibly do about this?
