“Uh, yeah, let me… check my availability—I’m just pulling up my calendar.” She forces her voice to stay low, which hurts a little, so she clears her throat again. Next, she starts noisily browsing through the empty notebook.
Riley breaks down cackling. “This is golden. You’re the best. Oh god, you’re adorable,” she giggles. Then, she clears her throat and drops her voice too.
“Naturally, Ms. Norwich. Would you kindly inform my associate as to whether tomorrow, the 21st day of the month March in the year of our Lord 2026, is of any availability to you? You are cordially invited to acquire a nutritious and tasty meal, to subsequently consume previously mentioned meal on a yet to be determined location in the outside air. Please don’t hesitate to reach out if you have any objections or suggestions.”
Charlotte bares her teeth, aggressively ripping out random pages at this point. Then, she registers what Riley actually just said.
“A picnic?” she pipes up.
“Yeah, if you like.” Riley’s voice is warm and honey-like again. “But before you start spiraling out of control in the next 24 hours: it’s just a casual lunch. We can even discuss our preparations for Mexico. Okay? Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“How about you focus on your own fucking panties,” Charlotte huffs, more to herself.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Yeah, let’s… let’s do that. Let’s get lunch tomorrow. A casual one. Thanks.”
And so Riley promises to text her an address where they can pick up food the next day. Realizing they will be outside, Charlotte saves herself from a wardrobe crisis. In the chilly, early spring air she will have to wear her puffer vest anyway.
The following morning, she decides to compliment her casual look with a pair ofcasualheeled knee boots, and shecasuallypins her hair up in a messy bun. Upon arriving at a decently looking hole-in-the-wall, Riley is already waiting for her in that beautifully tailored trenchcoat that is definitely notcasualenough for Charlotte’s liking.
She smiles and leans in for a hug (“...or would you prefer a firm handshake?”), and they order a sandwich each. Lunch secured, Riley suggests they go for a walk along the lake.
Charlotte has just taken her first bite when Riley says: “So, Lou and Gabi lost their minds when I told them about your coming out last week.”
Charlotte chokes on a piece of bread. She quickly spins around and bends over to start coughing.
“Oh my god! I’m joking! Charlotte, I’m just messing with you!” Riley shouts, her voice laden with guilt. She steps over and carefully pats her on the upper back.
Convinced that Charlotte’s not actively dying, Riley chuckles and rubs her back a few more times for good measure. “I’m literally just kidding. I hope you know I wouldn’t tell them anything without your permission.”
Charlotte straightens her spine, and turns around with a glower in her eyes that, if looks could kill, would’ve obliterated Riley on the spot. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and says: “I hope you brought a towel, because we’ve been walking for exactly one minute and I’m already this close to throwing you in the lake.” She forcefully presses her index finger and thumb together to indicate exactly how close Riley is to going for an involuntary swim.
“Duly noted,” Riley nods.
“No, but seriously. Please, please don’t tell them,” Charlotte asks her in earnest.
“I promise, with everything that I am. I would never. You know that, right?” Riley replies sincerely, taking the first bite of her own sandwich.
Charlotte shrugs noncommittally. “So what about the other women you turned into lesbians? Did you go around calling them out?”
Now it’s Riley’s time to be shocked. She doesn’t choke, but her jaw stops moving mid-chew. Raising a questioning eyebrow first, she says: “Please elaborate,” and resumes chewing.
“Well, I’ve been thinking about it, and…” Charlotte sighs. “The way you go about it, me, the whole thing, the way you’re so effortlessly good at prying life changing confessions out of me… I can’t help but think it’s all a game to you. I can’t be the first, nor the last. It feels that way.”
As Charlotte lays out her fears, she hopes she at least sounds apologetic about it.
They approach a set of stairs, and Riley chivalrously motions for Charlotte to go first. As she walks past her, Charlotte can tell Riley is trying to process her words without getting offended.
“The other women I turned into lesbians?” Riley finally breathes out, slowly enunciating the words as she follows Charlotte up the steps. “Do you hear what that sounds like?”
Charlotte reaches the top and turns around, crossing her arms and raising a challenging eyebrow. “Am I wrong?”
Please,her mind screams.Please tell me I’m wrong.
Riley walks up the final few steps too, slightly panting. “First of all: nobody is turning anybody into a lesbian.If I hear you use that phrase one more time,youwill be finding yourself somewhere on the bottom of the lake.” Charlotte is about to call her bluff, when Riley continues: “If you feel like a lesbian, that’s all you, honey. At most, I suggested the possibility of taking the blinders off. But what you saw when you decided to do so, that’s always been you.”
Turning away to continue their walk, Charlotte realizes that there’s really no point in arguing with someone who, apparently, has done so much work on their mental health. Also: a doctorate in psychology is just a ridiculously unfair advantage.
