“Oh, that’s sad. I mean, it’s also not. These things happen, right?”
“These things happen,” I repeat, a little mechanically.
“I’m sure you have lots of other friends now.”
I can’t help but smile. “Yeah, I do. Do you…Do you see me differently now I’m a man?” I ask, and the warmth in my face intensifies. It’s not like me to ask such a direct and vulnerable question. But it’s also not like me to be sat in front of a customer, who is also a ghost from my past, our knees brushing occasionally, thinking about doing things with him that would get me fired on the spot.
Benji leans towards me, resting his elbows on his thighs. “I don’t know, if I’m honest. The full picture is still cominginto focus a bit. Like, I can’t believe you’re…that person. But also I totally can believe it. And in that respect, you’re exactly the same. The same confidence, the same cool style and attitude. The same sense of humour. The same unique way of looking at the world. And the same big, brown eyes that I’m pretty sure will haunt my memory as soon as I leave here.”
“Myeyes! Have you seenyoureyes?” I blurt.
“What’s wrong with my eyes?” Wrinkles pinch in the corner of those weapons of his as he smiles.
“Nothing’s wrong with them. That’s the problem.”
His blush returns and deepens. “Also, I don’t know you as well as I would like. Even back then, I felt you held so much back from people. But maybe,” his eyes roll down my body, “maybe that makes a lot more sense now.”
“I…” I stutter as I find not my words, but my bravery. “You’re right. I do hold myself back from people. Back then, yes, because I had so much to figure out about myself, but also now.”
Benji nods and then he looks down at one of his hands. He tracks it as he lifts it and places it on my knee. His touch is light at first, barely-there contact. But when I don’t protest and when I drop my gaze to also watch his fingers intently, he applies a bit more pressure. He squeezes, and I sigh.
I can’t remember the last time I was touched like this: with meaning, with hope, with a tenderness that matches what I feel inside.
“It must have been very hard,” he says, eyes still downcast. “To have gone through what you’ve been through so far.”
I swallow around a knotted ball of tears and emotions and anger and despair that’s left over from my hardest moments, my hardest years. Yes, they’re all behind me -please, God - but bits of them have stayed with me, buried in my bones and swimming in my veins.
Nodding as I look up at Benji, I bring a hand to his face. “And you too. Your illness, your mum.”
He gives me a single nod back before leaning into the cradle of my palm. “Yeah, it’s been a shit few years.”
“But not all bad? Before then, I mean? You’ve had a nice life?”
He blinks his bright blue eyes open and pins them on me. “No, it’s not been all bad. I’d like to tell you about the highlights one day.”
One day.A future one day where we’re not locked in the studio together, forced to share our wounds and scars.
“I’d like that,” I answer honestly.
“And you? You’ve had some good times?”
I think about the studio we’re sitting in. About Keeley and Mari and Emmy and all the other people I work with. I think about my parents, and Lyla and Devon. How they’re both doing so well. How we’re still a close, loving family despite my younger siblings now living further afield. I think about the other friends I’ve made and the things we’ve done together — travel, concerts, dinners, drinks, nights out, nights in — and about the handful of lovers I’ve had over the years. The ones that made me feel whole and special and worthy of love, even if I didn’t want theirs.
“Yeah, I’ve had some good times,” I say, and his body sinks down with his exhale, like that answer was of devastating importance to him.
“Good, good,” he says and then he’s doing it again, staring at my lips.
“You still want to kiss me?”
“I still want to kiss you.” he says with a smile that makes my heartbeat surge.
“And you wanted to kiss me fifteen years ago. Even though you said what you said?”
His smile flatlines. “I really don’t know what I said. I’m sorry…I can’t remember.”
I can remember only too easily. But also, I want to forget.
So I lean forward and press my mouth against Benji’s.
