Within thirty seconds, Wes had hailed a cab using only the power of his hand.
“You’re a magician,” I whispered in awe.
He opened the door for me. “Goodnight, Nova.” He tapped on the driver’s window and handed him what looked like sixty dollars, more than enough for fare and a tip.
“You don’t have to—” I protested.
“Yes, I do,” Wes said. “Thanks for keeping me company.”
I gave up, sitting back in my seat. “Thanks for the car. And the… egg cream. Goodnight, Wes.”
He nodded and closed the door, a faint smile on his lips. I wondered why we couldn’t share a cab home, since we were heading in the same direction—unless Wes wasn’t going home. I moved my eyes from him to the driver. It wasn’t my business how Wes spent the rest of his night.
I told the driver my address. As the car sped away, I didn’t understand the emotion that came over me. It was sort of like the feeling I had when I stared out the car window as a child, daydreaming up different realities. In the worlds I built myself, I had a new family, a new body, a new name, a neweverything.
Jayne hadn’t told me something I didn’t already know. Of course, I knew Nova was Latin fornew.I’d picked the name myself. I’d chosen everything about my life myself, rather than letting my family and my church choose everything for me like they’d planned.
As I watched the sparkling expanse of the city pass outside my window while we crossed the Williamsburg Bridge, I didn’t dull my emotions with irony or the distraction of my phone or the sweet escape of denial. I allowed myself to earnestly feel what I felt, even if it hurt.
Just like when I was a child, trapped in a hostile environment and desperate for freedom, I wanted something I didn’t know how to ask for. I didn’t have the words. All I could do was feel, dream, and yearn.
When I was home, I still didn’t scroll on my phone. The only thing I did was finally enter Wes’s number into my contacts.
My fingers hovered over a new text conversation. I typed and then deleted and then tried again. I made one final attempt before giving up. I turned off the light, pet Inara, and closed my eyes.
I wanted something I couldn’t have.
10
NOVA
Iawoke to voices outside my bedroom door.
“You’re positive?” Hudson asked.
“Yes,” Delilah said with a dose of snark. “She peed at 5 a.m., so I am one hundred percent positive Nova is alive and in her room.”
What the damn hell? Why were my roommates monitoring my bladder activities? That was personal.
Now, I was too awake to go back to sleep, which meant I needed coffee in the next ten minutes, or all my organs would fail, my brain would spontaneously combust, and my bones would break one by one.
Probably. I wasn’t going to test it.
When I opened the door, Hudson and Delilah both scrambled back.
“Good morning, Sunshine,” Delilah said in a sing-song voice. “Oh no, did Hudson wake you?”
Hudson glared at her. “Bitch, you were here too.”
“Yes,” I said, walking to the bathroom like a zombie. I paused in the doorway. “You two can make me a coffee as an apology.”
“Uh-huh,” Hudson said, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. “Okay, fine. But you havemuchexplaining to do.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled, shutting the door.
“I like Morning Nova,” I heard Delilah say from the kitchen. “It’s, like, the only time she’s ever mean.”
“Yeah, I like when she’s mean too,” Hudson said with a sigh. “I feel like there’s a joke in here somewhere about how many queer people it takes to make a coffee. Since being a barista is queer-coded…”
