Once again, I shrug. “I don’t know, Celeste. That’s just kind of what I do.”
There’s an urgent rapping on the door, and Celeste gives me a final look. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”
I shake my head this time. “She said she wants to apologize. I want to hear her out.”
I start to get up, but Celeste gestures for me to sit back down so she can answer the door herself. “Nikki.”
“Celeste.”
Leaning back on the couch, I keep my eyes closed until I feel the cushion beside me sink with Nikki’s weight. “Hey, Jude.”
“Hi.”
Celeste’s bedroom door shuts, and Nikki takes a deep breath. “Listen, babe, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I guess–I guess my insecurity and distrust of men took over. Can you forgive me?”
I open my eyes to look at her. Unlike me, Nikki still looks completely put together. Her hair and makeup are flawless, and she’s in her usual business attire. I don’t know what I expected—I guess I thought our fight might have disrupted her sleep or routine the way it did mine. Apparently not.
Nikki takes both of my hands in hers. “Please, Jude?”
I take a moment to really look at her. She’s so phenomenal—her looks, her ambition, her intelligence, her confidence. Everything about her is perfect. It’s unbelievable that she cares about me at all. It would be even more insane for me to let someone like her get away.
How could I not forgive her?
“I forgive you,” I whisper. “And I’m sorry for leaving. I just…I was so upset, I couldn’t?—”
“Of course, baby, of course,” Nikki interrupts, pulling me into her arms. “You had every right to be upset. I was being crazy. I’m so sorry.”
I melt into her arms, allowing her to hold me. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
Our sweet embrace leads to chaste kissing, which grows in urgency, building until our bodies are suddenly horizontal on the couch, limbs entangled, breaths heavy, hands greedily roaming beneath layers of clothing, desperately seeking a different kind of relief?—
“Eww, God, Jude, not on our fucking couch!” Celeste shouts.
“Sorry,” I mutter breathlessly.
“Bedroom?” Nikki gasps.
I nod, lost in heady desire. Nikki pulls herself off me, and the two of us eagerly make our way to my bedroom, shutting the door behind us.
April 2024
I didn’t want to go to prom. But Tyler did.
We’d been together most of the school year already, and he seemed to be okay with my gender stuff. In his words, “I mean, you still have the parts I’m attracted to, so it doesn’t change anything for me.” It wasn’t exactly what I was hoping to hear, but it wasn’t a flat-out rejection, so I took it as a win.
Max and Celeste are boycotting the prom. I had planned to boycott in solidarity, but Tyler had other ideas.
“God, you look sexy as hell,” Tyler slurs in my ear. I can smell the cheap vodka on his breath from the flask he smuggled into prom, and his touches have gotten less appropriate by the minute. “I told you the dress was gonna be worth it.”
I glare down at the navy, skin-tight, sequin-covered monstrosity that Tyler is referring to. “It’s not like I had a choice,” I counter. “My parents were only willing to pay for a dress. No tuxes or suits for me.”
“I think it was for the best. This dress is driving me crazy.”
“And that’s not a bad thing?” I tease.
Tyler growls. “Not bad. It’s just harder to resist you in this.Fuck,I want you.”
Teenage hormones are a powerful drug. My infatuation with Tyler has made me do the most insane things, and can even make my gender dysphoria fade into background noise when I’m horny enough. So far, I have been convinced to attend prom with Tyler despite knowing that my two closest friends will not be there. I begrudgingly agreed to wear this ridiculously femme dress and get all dolled up for it. And apparently, I went along with ditching prom early to join Tyler and his friends at a nearby hotel to do…what exactly? Drink and have sex? What a cliche.
