“They’re really keen,” Klaus went on. “And I think you can make this work. You just, uh, maybe shouldn’t have gone to see Byron. I get why you did, but that wasn’t the move.”
“You’re telling me,” Curtis groaned. “So, what next? How do I fix this?”
Klaus didn’t say anything for a minute. He drew on his vape, his eyes slightly unfocused as he stared at the ceiling.
“Everything okay?” Curtis prompted. He’d had enough long silences for a lifetime.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m just trying to figure out…” Klaus’s gaze snapped to his. “I know you and Sal have talked about their gender identity, but what I think you’re missing is that no matter how they feel on the inside, Sal’s always gonna be femme-presenting.”
Curtis frowned. “Sorry?”
“Unless they make a lot of serious changes—which they don’t want to do—Sal’s probably always gonna have strangers assuming they’re a girl. And that’s shit. It makes them feel really self-conscious.”
“I get that.”
“Good, well, you know how Sal doesn’t talk to their parents?”
He nodded.
“They went through a bad time with their folks when they first came out. They’re better now, but they never want to be in a position where they have to question their identity all the time. They want to surround themselves with supportive people.”
“I’m supportive!”
“You are, but Sal keeps trying to tell you that it doesn’t matter how much other people see them as a girl, they aren’t one. And they need to know you don’t see them that way.”
Curtis was starting to feel like he had a cement mixer for a brain. A shitty one. “I’m trying, but I’m attracted to Sal because they’ve got the face and the body they do, and I don’t know what that means except I don’t care that they’re non-binary.”
Klaus gave him a look Curtis remembered from his science teachers.
“I’m sayin’ dumb shit, aren’t I?”
“Uhh…?”
“I am.” Curtis buried his face in his hands. “Fucking hell, I’m never gonna get this.”
“Hey,” Klaus said in a soothing voice. “It’s not like that. No one knows all this stuff when they start, and your heart’s obviously in the right place. You’ve gotta understand how what you’re saying comes across.”
“How does it come across?”
“Well…” Klaus said slowly. “It sounds like you’re only willing to put up with Sal being non-binary because you’re attracted to them.”
“What!?How?”
“You said you don’t care that they’re non-binary.”
“I don’t!”
“But this isn’t just some quirky thing you’re willing to entertain because you like them. This is who Sal is. Okay, okay, let’s bring this in.” Klaus held up his hands. “How’s this for an example? You’ve got a friend from another country. A place where everything’s fucked up and corrupt and shitty, but whenever they try to talk to you about their country, you say, ‘oh it’s fine, I don’t care that you’re from there. I don’t even notice.’”
Realisation hit Curtis like a knee to the head. He sat back in his chair, thoughts churning. He had family in Ukraine—cousins fighting to leave even as he sat talking to Klaus. If they ever Facetimed to let him know how hard they were struggling, and he said he didn’t mind that they were from Ukraine…
“Shit. So it’s, like… saying ‘I don’t care Sal’s non-binary’ isn’t the same thing as saying ‘I love that about you and I’m here for you no matter what’?”
Klaus smiled like he’d just cracked the secrets of the universe. “Couldn’t have put it better myself, mate.”
“Christ.” Curtis pushed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “I’ve said I don’t care about a million times. I think I told her brother that too.”
“Yeah, that probably wasn’t a good idea…”
