“Max’s friends are here,” Theo says. “But Lola just called and said she’s close by, so I’m going to walk Caleb downstairs.”
“Aww, it’s already that late?”
“Sadly, yes,” Caleb says, sliding his arms into his backpack straps.
“Well, I’m glad you got to hang with us, man!” I exclaim, opening my arms for a hug.
Caleb steps into the hug and gives me a light squeeze. “Take care of Theo for me, okay?” he says softly, his voice cracking slightly.
I squeeze him back. “Always,” I promise. There’s an annoying lump forming in my throat, so I swallow it down.
Caleb pulls away and gives me an appreciative smile. “Thank you, Oliver.”
“You ready?” Theo asks.
“Yeah.”
The two exit out into the hallway, and I head into the kitchen for a soda. I take a few nice, long gulps, and the emotional lump washes down with it. Whew. That was a close one.
“Hey, are these cookies for everyone?”
I turn around to locate the source of the quiet voice, meeting a striking pair of gray-green eyes. Immediately, the person reminds me of Wren in their hip, androgynous appearance, so I wonder if I should ask about their pronouns. They’re shorter—about Theo’s height, I think—with soft features and an edgy pixie cut with shaved sides and a swoop of strawberry blonde bangs across their forehead.
I glance down at the aforementioned cookies—a substantial pile of individually wrapped fortune cookies from the Chinese restaurant—and toss the blonde an apprehensive expression. “Actually, I think those are the only cookies that guy Theo’s allowed to have. He’s like, deathly allergic to peanuts.”
Their hand hesitates over the cookies, quirking an eyebrow in my direction, and suddenly, my confidence inexplicably falters. Something about their gaze makes my cheeks feel warm—like I’m embarrassed, but I haven’t done anything embarrassing yet. Weird.
Barely a second later, I exhale a half-hearted laugh. “Sorry, I’m fucking with you. Theo’s not allergic to anything. Or, at least, nothing that I know of. You’re welcome to have as many cookies as you’d like.”
The blonde studies me for a few seconds, but their lips twitch into a half-smile as they reach for a cookie. “Thanks.” They extend their other hand out towards me, fingers adorned with several multicolored rings. “I’m Jude. A friend of Max’s.”
“Oliver,” I reply, taking their hand in mine and shaking it politely. “One of Max’s new roommates.” I clear my throat. “My pronouns are he/him, by the way.”
Jude’s expression flickers for just a moment, but then their smile widens. “They/them.”
I grin, swelling with pride. “I had a feeling. You remind me of one of my good buds from high school.”
Jude’s eyes narrow. “Oh, are you saying that all enbies look the same?”
Shit. Fuck. That was fast. I’ve already ruined this friendship immediately by being weird and performative.
I open my mouth to apologize, but Jude cracks a smile and snorts. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” they snicker. “It was my turn to fuck with you.”
A rather manic laugh tumbles out of me. “Holy shit. You got me.”
“Well, serves you right for making up that bit about someone having a peanut allergy,” they reply without missing a beat. “Ableistandenbyphobic? Not great at first impressions, are you?”
I hesitate before shrugging. “My track record isn’t perfect, but what CIS white guy’s is?”
Jude laughs. “Fair point.” They examine me again—softer this time. “But Max says you’re an ally, so I won’t hold your white CIS-ness against you right away.”
“I truly appreciate that.”
They tear open the fortune cookie wrapper, pop the first half into their mouth, and lean against the counter adjacent to me. “So,” they continue after a moment of chewing. “I take it you’re also a freshman?”
“For now,” I reply. “Just wait until next year.”
“Wow,” Jude groans, but they’re still smiling. “A real comedian.”
