When he tutored them after class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, they studied on neutral ground, either Professor Myls’s classroom, her office, or the university library. Since Dex could only stay an hour or so before he had to get back to his sister, the shorter time limit helped with Cya’s number fatigue, which, in turn, kept the fuse of their temper better in check.
True to his word, Dex stopped expecting anything more from them. He didn’t invite them to his house or to the movies. He didn’t pry for personal information or push for emotional intimacy as he had before. Yet, he remained warm and kind towards them, and they hadn’t expected that.
Growing up, their parents had always been passive aggressive, dropping disparaging comments hidden behind jokes or the excuse of “only trying to help.” When Cya made mistakes, their father would withhold affection as punishment. Not that he was overly affectionate at the best of times, but when he was cross with them, he’d turn even colder until he felt Cya had properly paid for their misdeeds.
Their mother would weep and carry-on, blow everything out of proportion until Cya’s small blunder became an entire fiasco with their mother centered as the poor victim of it all. And since she couldn’t cope with such a willful, spiteful daughter, she’d escalate it to their father, and on the cycle went until Cya learned to be perfect.
Or maybe they’d simply learned to be invisible.
They weren’t invisible to Dex, though, no matter how hard they tried. He saw them, maybe not in their entirety, but he stillsawthem and, somehow, accepted them. With all their pettiness and flaws, with their temper and impatience, with their prejudice and their pride. He took them exactly as they were, while holding his own boundaries and challenging them to be better.
Sure, he still teased them, but it was in the friendly way he teased everyone. He couldn’tnothaze them, apparently, not when he found endless entertainment in ruffling their composure, arrogant asshole that he was.
“Unholy shit, you dated Noodle Boy?” Dex exclaimed much too loudly for the university library, and Cya shushed him.
“Keep your voice down!” they hissed. “And who’s Noodle—you mean, Kent?”
“Yeah, Kent, the living embodiment of belly button lint.” He shook his head in dismay. “You dated him?”
They couldn’t decide whether they were more offended or amused. “Embodiment of—that’s ridiculous. But yes, I dated him, like, three years ago.”
“Oh my gods.”
“Don’t judge me!”
His whole body shook with laughter. “Oh, I am judging you. I am judging you so hard.”
“He isn’t—hewasn’talways that bad, you know,” they said, though it tasted like a lie.
“If you say so.” Focusing back on the practice exam they’d completed, he checked several answers correctly before crossing out an incorrect one. “But if you want my opinion—”
“Didn’t ask for it,” they grumbled.
“If you want my opinion,” he repeated louder, speaking over them, “that guy freaking sucks. I’m glad you dumped him.”
When they didn’t verify his claim, he cocked his head and scrutinized them. They jutted their chin stubbornly. His eyes narrowed. They inspected their recent manicure and chewed on their bottom lip.
He inhaled through his teeth. “Wait, you did dump him, right? Do not tell me you let that absolute wiener dumpyou!”
To be honest, they weren’t sure who had dumped whom first. They’d definitely dumped Kent publicly, after they discovered he’d told people at school about their fucked up anatomy, forever ruining their reputation. But the night before, after he’d seen the full extent of… things, he’d reacted rather poorly, leading to a heated row.
He’d left in a huff, and according to his side of the story, he’d been the one to dump them that night. In their memory, he hadn’t technicallybroken up with them, not in so many words, but it was useless to try and argue the point. The damage had already been done.
Since they didn’t want to rehash any of that with Dex, they hedged. “It was more of a mutual dumping, I think.”
“Ah man,” he said, and his pity rankled. “I need a minute. My whole world-view is collapsing.”
Cya rolled their eyes. “Tad dramatic, don’t you think?”
“Ah, ah, ah.” He held up a finger. “Hold up. I think I’m having another epiphany.”
“If it’s anything like your gay epiphany, please keep it to yourself,” they said with a flutter of their lashes.
“No, it’s about you. Are you—and I ask this with all the tact and sensitivity of a man of my age and wisdom,” he said loftily. “Are you kind of a loser?”
Under the table, their rattle shook menacingly, but he didn’t cower away from their glare. He stared them down, eyes widening in a significant look that seemed to say,“Be honest.”
Since they were trying to lie less and be more authentic—or some such nonsense—they battled with their pride for a full minute before they ground out, “Took you that long to figure out, did it?”
