“What?”
“This thing between us. I can’t explain it. It’s weird.”
I smile wanly. “Just because you can’t explain or understand something doesn’t make it weird.”
“I know, but I don’t know what else to call it. I feel like there’s something between us that shouldn’t, can’t possibly exist.”
I swallow. “What do you think it is, Maeve?”
“It’s not, it can’t be desire, because you know,” she points at herself, “asexual. But it also can’t be like, you know, a romantic attraction, because,” she points at me, “aromantic.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about this too,” I admit.
“Have you?” Maeve’s eyes widen with surprise. “Like a little bit, or like a whole fucking lot?”
“A whole fucking lot,” I admit.
Her face softens with what I’m pretty sure is relief, because that’s also exactly what I’m feeling.
“I hope I didn’t confuse you too much. With the kissing and sex stuff we did. I know that’s something you need from a partner, and I also know it’s not something I can offer a partner, at least not in the way you have had it before. And I hope you didn’t feel like you had to be with me because we did that stuff. Or maybe worse, that you felt like you had to keep your distance so as not to confuse me because I know where you stand with relationships.” The words rush out of Maeve’s mouth quickly and clumsily.
Is Maeve rambling?
I find one of her hands and tangle her fingers with mine.
“You know where I stand with relationships?” I ask.
“Yeah, I mean, you’re aromantic.”
“Aromantic people can still have relationships. In the same way some asexual people still have sexual relationships or experiences.”
“I know,” Maeve says thoughtfully and her gaze drops to the space between us. “But I also think I definitely want a something like a romantic relationship.”
Right. She wants what I can’t give her.
Or what she thinks I can’t give her.
“Maeve, can we play Honest Answers Only again?”
Her eyes lift to mine and they sparkle a little, like they’re coming alive again. “You remember that?”
“I remember a lot,” I say, and I mean it in both an active and passive sense. I do remember a lot, and I also spend a lot of time remembering.
“Okay, let’s play Honest Answers Only.”
“Ask me where I stand with relationships. Romantic relationships.”
“You’re not supposed to tell me what questions to ask.” Her hand goes to her hip as she cocks it.
I roll my eyes at her, but smile with it. “Okay, ask me a different question.”
She bites her lip as she thinks and I doubt she knows how attractive that is.
“Where do you stand with romantic relationships?” she finally asks.
I give her a very accusing look and mirror her pose with a hand on my cocked hip.
“Honest Answers Only,” she says with a challenging smile.
