“OK, see you then!” We hang up and I scoot off Forrest’s lap, onto my feet. “My stepmom is going to be home soon.”
“I should probably go anyway,” he says, standing. “Homework.”
“Oh god, don’t remind me.” I press my fingers to my forehead.
“How’s your essay going?” He walks to the door, pushing his feet back into his sneakers as he pulls on his jacket and shoulders his backpack.
“Nowhere,” I say, and he laughs. Brekky headbutts his leg, and he bends down, scratching the cat behind the ears. He straightens and we stand there for a moment. I look down, scuffing my foot on the floor.
“So...” he says. “I’ll text you?”
I nod. I want to reply, but everything that pops into my head sounds too casual, or too intense, or too ...something.“Sounds good,” I say brightly. He turns and opens the door, slipping out quickly before Brekky can follow him, and then it’s just me and the cats, standing in the living room. I reach out and lock the door, then head back to my bedroom,fighting the urge to go to the window and watch Forrest walk away. That would be weird. Probably. Maybe it’s weirder if I don’t? It’s too late, though; he’s probably already out of sight.
I flop across my bed, my feet hanging off one side, my head hanging off the other. I stare down at the floor, reaching out to trace the pattern of the wood grain with my fingers. The house feels too quiet now that he’s gone. In the kitchen, the refrigerator hums, and a few minutes later, the heater comes to life for another cycle. Brekky chirps, and then his weight lands beside me with a soft thump. He walks across my back and settles against my other side to lick his leg.
Forrest likes me. Forrest kissed me. I kissed him back. Should I have kissed him before he left? We didn’t even hug. Oh my god, did I completely mess everything up? I squeeze my eyes shut. He probably thinks I’m a weirdo now, a weirdo who doesn’t know how to date.
Are we dating now? We didn’t talk about anything; we just made out. Do I hold his hand when I see him tomorrow?
Tomorrow is the Trans Awareness Week panel. And next week, on Friday, is the reelection.
“Fuck!” I yell, and roll over, away from Brekky, into a sitting position. He meows a complaint and resettles himself against my pillows.
I take my glasses off and bury my face in my hands. What happens to Forrest and me if I win the revote? What happens ifForrestwins? And what happens to our friends? If Jayden likes Alexander, and I like Forrest, and we all date, that means our friend groups will merge. Someone will inevitably break up and it will all be ruined.
“I’m sorry, Sidney,” Jayden says through sobs, telling us he can’t be around Alexander anymore. “Forrest needs to ditch them or I’m out.”
Forrest’s face pulls into a frown. “They’re my friends, I can’t do that.”
“Please,” I beg him. “Jayden’s going to leave our group.”
“So the answer is me getting rid of all my friends?” He shakes his head. “No. Maybe we should just break up, if that’s what you want me to do.”
“No, no—”
He’s walking away and I collapse on the ground. My chest is hurting, tears rolling down my face.
“Sidney!”
I startle, pulling my face out of my hands.
“Sid?”
It’s Shar. She’s home. I jump up, looking around wildly, then swing open my closet door, looking at my face in the mirror hanging there. I don’t look too upset, but my heart is still racing like what just happened really happened.
Am I ...hallucinating? Is that what this is? What if it’s not anxiety at all? What if it’s something much, much worse?
“Sid!” Shar’s voice is closer.
“Hey!” I call out.
She knocks. “You OK?”
“Yeah, sorry, just taking a nap,” I say, staring at the door from across the room.
“OK. Food’s on the table. I’m going to lie down for a bit too.”
“Sounds good.”
