Russell
I sat behind the desk at Starside, idly pulling books from a cardboard box and scanning them into our system. It was a normal Monday at the store, with not much going on and only a couple of customers wandering through, but I still hummed with nervous excitement.
That morning, I’d actually worked up the courage to play around with some clothes I liked. Granted, no one else could possibly know that, but still.
Wearing a pair of panties felt like a bold move. It might not be showing myself to the world and playing around with eyeliner, like I wanted, but the panties gave me a different kind of thrill.
I shifted on the stool, and my heart jumped. Dressing like this didn’t feel sexual or anything like that. I did feel hot when I slipped into them, sure, and I definitely admired the curve of my ass in the red bikini briefs for a while, but sitting at work, the thin fabric just felt comfortable and soft and nice.
It made me feel confident, which was weird, but true.
I drummed my fingers on the desk and imagined that they were painted a nice, modest gray, maybe with a little hint of silver to it. A woman came up to purchase a book, pulling me from my thoughts and back to Starside.
The place was a small, specialty store, with a focus on travel guides, nature and science interests, and a wide range of how-to, instructional, do-it-yourself type books. I got a general degree in business at the community college, figuring that since I didn’t know what in the hell I wanted to do, it would at least be useful. When I was scouring the internet for jobs in Pittsburgh, Starside stuck out for some reason, and they offered me a full-time position.
A man appeared at the counter next. He had straight black hair that hung almost to his shoulders and a gorgeous face that was made even more beautiful by the two thin stripes of blue across his eyelids and the touch of black eyeliner.
“Excuse me,” he said with a warm smile. “Do you have any guides to camping spots in the area? State parks and that kind of thing?”
Suddenly, I wished desperately that I had painted my nails. I wished I had been able to flash them his way and to be seen by him, like we’d be connected in some way. Back in Forest View, I almost never saw a man in makeup, but just like I’d hoped, it happened sometimes in Pittsburgh.
“There’s a whole hiking and camping section,” I answered. “Let me show you. You going on a trip?”
“I go camping with my husband and friends a couple times a year,” he said as his eyes bounced along the bookshelves we passed. “How about you? Any recommendations for good spots around here?”
I brought us to the back corner of the store. “I haven’t really explored the area, I’m afraid. Just moved to Pittsburgh about a month ago. I hope to, though! I used to go camping a few hours away. Mainly in the summer.” I let out a puff of air, worried I was babbling. “Pittsburgh seems like a great city.”
“Ah, new to town. I remember that,” he said with a laugh. The man stopped and extended his hand lightly. He was wearing a white button-up shirt that hung gracefully off his shoulders, with a simple silver necklace added for flair. “My name’s River. Welcome.”
“Russell,” I answered and slipped my hand into his. I nodded toward the books he was looking for. “If you find a good hiking spot, you should let me know.”
“Will do,” River agreed. “Do you like movies?”
I blinked, surprised by his question. “Sure. Why do you ask?”
“I work at the film festival here in town. We’re doing a documentary series this weekend, at this little theater not far from downtown. You should check it out.”
My heart skipped a beat. Was this gorgeous man in impeccable makeup asking me to hang out with him?
River drummed his fingers on the side of the bookshelf. “My husband will be there,” he added with a gentle smile.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I appreciated the clarification and for some reason felt relieved to hear it.
I probably needed a friend more than a boyfriend at the moment, anyway. Until I worked out what I came here to work out, I wasn’t sure I’d want to start dating anyone. The idea of revealing I liked makeup and losing someone I cared about was just too much.
“A documentary sounds great,” I said. “How do I get the info?”
“Here,” River answered, pulling a wallet from his pocket. “Sorry it’s my business card, but text me. And I hope I’ll see you at the theater!”
* * *
By the timeI left work, it was pouring rain, a winter storm that was riding right on the edge of becoming snow and ice. I hurried down the street from the bus stop, freezing and soaking, but I was still smiling.
I’d maybe made a friend of my own, thank fucking god.
Casey and Blake were great, and they were each going out of their way to make me feel welcome. It was because my family had taken Casey in as a teenager, I knew, and because my brother was basically their brother. That didn’t make them any less sweet, but it did feel a little embarrassing, like I was still little Russell, needing someone else to look out for me.
On top of all that, Blake and Casey were essentially my walking, talking, fully embodied adolescent sexual fantasies, all grown up and staring me in the face. I was trying to reinvent myself and transform into a butterfly, not devolve into a horny teen. But with shirtless Blake and flirty Casey around every corner, horny teen seemed to be winning out.
