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“Both and neither, yes.” Brady smiled at me, his eyes bright with mischief. “Are you trying to ask me if I like you, Charlie?”
I was pretty sure I was blushing as I ducked my head. Shaking myself, I glanced back at him and raised a brow, hoping I didn’t look as flustered as I actually felt. I tried to find the calm I used to have when I worked for my father, but it seemed to have disappeared along with any chill I’d ever had. “And what if I was?”
“Well, then. You’ll just have to wait and see, now, won’t you?” Brady shot back without missing a beat, and I grinned at him. I hadn’t expected our friendship to take this new turn, but I also couldn’t say that I hadn’t thought about it. Or that I hadn’t wondered if Brady would ever be interested in someone like me. I was happy with the easy friendship we had, but if there was a chance we could be more, then I wanted to take it. After all, wasn’t that what I’d promised myself? No more hiding, no more holding back.
“What’s the second thing?” I asked, realizing we’d gotten off on a tangent. Brady gave me a puzzled look before he seemed to remember our earlier conversation.
“Oh, right. I forgot about that. Yeah, the second thing was that though these sketches are amazing, this style doesn’t really seem like you to me.”
“I was thinking the same thing. I just can’t figure out what could be my style,” I grumbled, feeling frustrated. I’d been so excited about finally getting to do everything I’d ever wanted, and now I was stumped over something as simple as clothes.
“I have a few ideas, actually. I guess you could say styling clothes and giving fashion advice is my hobby. Can I draw something in here?”
I nodded quickly, eager to see what Brady would come up with. Brady’s clothes told me he had an impeccable sense of dressing, so I knew his ideas would at least not be as bad as mine had been. Plus, we’d hung out a lot over the past few days, so I believed he’d know exactly the kind of clothes that would lookandfeel good on me.
As he turned to a new page and started sketching, he glanced up at me and asked, “So did you think more about what pronouns you’d like to use?”
“I did. I liked your bracelet idea, actually. Most days, I’m okay with the he/him pronouns, but I’ve realized it’s the same way I was okay with my old name. They/them sounds more me, to be honest. And on days I’m feeling particularly masculine or feminine, I’ll just need to switch the bracelets, right?”
Brady hummed in affirmation without looking up. “Yep. There will still be people, strangers mostly, who misgender you, but yeah, the bracelet will be enough for most people in the community to know your pronouns.” He wriggled around in his seat for a bit before extending his free hand to me. On his palm sat three woven bracelets, blue, pink, and purple in color.
“Blue for he, pink for she, and purple for they, right?” I asked as I took them, running my thumb over the soft yarn.
Brady looked up at me then, smiling and giving my hand a squeeze. “That’s right. Why don’t you put one on?”
I took a deep breath before winding the purple bracelet around my left wrist and clipping it on. It was such a small gesture, but it felt like such a huge step to me. It was empowering, this little step in claiming my identity. I closed my eyes in an attempt to calm down the barrage of emotions I was suddenly feeling. I felt warm hands cover mine and opened my slightly blurry eyes to see Brady holding my hand and smiling softly at me.
“Sorry,” I apologized in a hoarse voice, wondering why this was hitting me so hard. It was just a tiny bracelet, not a wedding ring. It shouldn’t have made me so emotional.
Brady shook his head at me, his voice soft as he spoke. “This is a big step for you, Ceebee. You’re allowed to feel everything you’re feeling right now. I still remember the first time I put makeup on. I’d ended up ruining it in minutes because I couldn’t stop the happy tears from flowing.”
“Ceebee?” I asked with a wet chuckle.
Brady grinned at me cheekily, and I might have been wrong, but his cheeks had turned pink as he spoke. “It’s my new nickname for you. Very few people get a nickname from me. You should feel lucky.”
“Oh, that I am. I’m very lucky to have met you, Brady Knight,” I said, meaning every single word. The blush that lit up Brady’s face with a rosy hue was so worth it. “And I like the nickname. I really do.”
“Good,” Brady said with a grin. “And for what it’s worth, I’m very glad I found you too, Ceebee De Luca.” Brady started laughing at whatever face I was making, and I shook my head in return, feeling happier and warmer than ever. I carefully placed the other two bracelets into the pocket of my jeans and took a sip of my now-lukewarm coffee.
We shared an easy silence for a while as Brady worked on his sketch and I people-watched.
“Okay, I’m done,” Brady said before turning around the sketchpad and pushing it toward me, a slightly nervous look on his face.
I glanced down at the sketch, and an awed gasp escaped my lips as I saw what he’d drawn. Unlike me, he’d drawn the kind of models fashion designers did, faceless with the complete focus on the clothes they were wearing. And what clothes they were.
The first model wore white leggings paired with black ankle boots, a dark loose top that hung to their thighs, and a full-sleeved, cloak-like jacket that ended at their knees. It was perfect. It wasn’t too masculine, but it wasn’t overtly feminine either. Just like me, in a way. The other model wore short denim-shorts and a long black top that ended at the belly on the front but ran all the way to the ankles on the back with full sleeves with patterns cut into them. It wasn’t like anything I’d ever worn before, but I could also imagine myself wearing it. Maybe not out in the open just yet, but I could definitely try.
“So?” Brady asked, and there was definitely a note of nervousness in his voice.
“Holy hell, you’re amazing. These are gorgeous, Brady.”
Brady grinned at me, all nervousness gone. “I know the second one is very different from what you wear, but I think it’d suit you.”
I nodded in agreement, my eyes still on the sketches. “I can see it. But…” I trailed off, biting my lower lip as I looked up at Brady.
“But what?”
“Some of these clothes are definitely feminine. Would they be available in my size, or would I have to get them made specifically?”
