Dáithí takes the printout from me—possibly to avoid being slapped in the face with it—and tosses it onto his coffee table. “We saw, sweetie. It’s why I just DoorDashed steaks instead of ordering pizza for dinner like I planned.”
I pull an apologetic face and make myself sit on the sofa like a normal person, even though I really want to dance around the room. “Sorry. I know I’m out of control.”
“Donotbe sorry,” Jared orders. He’s been smiling since I walked in and explained how awesome my afternoon was. “This is amazing news, and we’re so happy for you.”
“We are,” Dáithí agrees. “We know how hard this puberty has been. I can’t believe nobody mentioned to you that athletes need extra support. Aren’t half your family doctors or something?”
Shrugging, I say, “Trust me, I plan to bring that up. Although I guess it’s not any of their fields, and aside from supportingme, none of them is that interested in sports or athleticism.” Not that I’ll say any of that. I’m totally milking this until they’re writhing with guilt. Then I’ll graciously forgive them and accept their offers to make it up to me by letting me be the one who gets to choose what takeout we order when Dad fucks up our food. Every. Time.
“The important part is things are going to get easier now,andyou’re no longer on your coach’s shit list,” Jared points out. “All it took was telling the truth.” A thoughtful look crosses his face. “There has to be a way for me to make this a teaching moment for my students.”
Dáithí and I look at him incredulously. “You’re going to tell five-and-six-year-olds a story about puberty?” I shake my head. “Hey, kids, telling the truth is important when you’re so mad that you hit your friends with a hockey stick.”
“Or when you pop a boner in public and it won’t go away,” Dáithí adds. “Sure, Jared. That’s not going to get a lot of questions from the kids… and complaints from their parents.”
The sound Jared makes is half snort, half laugh. “Okay, fine, I might have to let this one go. I just hate to waste a good teaching opportunity.”
That makes me laugh, and it feels so damn good. Different from every other time I’ve laughed lately.
When my chuckles finally fade away and I focus back on my friends, they’re both watching me with a mix of indulgence and wariness.
“What?”
Jared pulls a little face. “Are we going to talk about it?”
“About what?”
“You inviting the subject of your inconvenient boners to dinner tonight,” Dáithí says bluntly. “Oh, hey… does this mean the never-ending, super-intense sexual arousal is going to go away too?”
My good mood pops like a balloon, and I sigh. “We didn’t go into that too much, but Edison mentioned that sex hormones behave independently of the rest, so the new routine probably won’t impact them much. He and Coach seemed uncomfortable when they were hinting around whether I have a partner or not, so I told them I had that part under control.”
“Didn’t we just establish that telling the truth is the best option?” Jared scolds, and I give him a “be so for real” look.
“Would you want to talk about your sex life with your boss? Or about the fact that one time last week, the smell of the ice made me hard? I’m gonna pass on that, thanks.”
“Fair call,” he murmurs.
Dáithí won’t let it go. “So the flag’s at full-mast permanently, huh?”
Jared chokes on his mouthful of wine while I glare at Dáithí. “Not permanently, just for a while longer. And it’s not always.” Thankfully.
“Just when you smell ice, or the sun shines, or you drink coffee… or a certain colleague of mine is in the vicinity.”
They both stare at me expectantly, and I try not to squirm.
“Something like that,” I mutter.
Dáithí leans forward. “Tell us again, why did you invite Ari tonight?”
Dammit. “Look, don’t make this weird, okay? He… we’re friends.” Kind of. Barely.
“Friends,” Jared repeats. “Not to be mean, but since when? Things were a little bit better between you at the game last week, but I wouldn’t have said you were besties.”
“We’re not,” I snap, annoyed. “But we both want to put the past behind us and be friends, so we’re trying. He was a good friend to me today—supportive and encouraging—and when I thought I might get fired, he was all ready to call a friend at CSG and find out what my legal rights are while I’m in puberty.”
“Aw,” Dáithí says. “Don’t get me wrong, Fe. I’ve known Ari a long time, and I like him. He’s polite and respectful, fun, and easygoing—most of the time. I’m—we’rejust surprised how quickly you’ve gone from ‘I hate him for hating me’ to ‘he’s coming to bestie dinner.’”
“Bestie dinner?” Jared says. “Really?”
