Weekend Girl, #1, page 1
A NineStar Press Publication
www.ninestarpress.com
Weekend Girl
ISBN: 978-1-64890-315-1
© 2021 Alex Powell
Cover Art © 2021 Natasha Snow
Published in June, 2021 by NineStar Press, New Mexico, USA.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact NineStar Press at Contact@ninestarpress.com.
Also available in Print, ISBN: 978-1-64890-316-8
WARNING:
This book contains sexually explicit content, which may only be suitable for mature readers. Depictions of transphobia.
Weekend Girl
Weekend Girl, Book One
Alex Powell
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Acknowledgements
About the Author
To my friends Laurence and Jes
Chapter One
Ashley Kingston sat in the bustling Davie Street cafe staring into his—Wait!
No.
Their cup. Their.
They had managed to misgender themself again, and honestly, it was getting old. Realizing they might not be a cis dude was like trying to find a bra that would fit their frame—sometimes it poked them in places not meant to be poked.
Speaking of bras, Ash had two new ones in their bag on the floor next to their feet. Normally, Ash wouldn’t have gone to a store to purchase clothes not meant for men, but their friend Bei Bei had gotten Ash’s measurements and pretended the bras were for her. One was a perfectly sensible beige number, but the other was fire-engine red, at Bei Bei’s insistence. Ash was nervous about trying them on, even when no one else was around, but what were they to do? Progress was progress.
They glanced over at their friend from the corner of their eye. Bei Bei was on her phone texting someone, running her hand through the short hair on one side of her head. Her undercut was brand spanking new.
Still not used to it? Ash frowned. The two of them were both trying something on for size. Bei Bei said she wanted to be the butchest of butch lesbians. She’d gone into the salon and had all of her long black hair cut off just that morning. Ash had watched as Bei Bei transformed before their eyes. What was it like to have long hair?
Ash ran a hand through their own dark-brown hair and sighed. Maybe one day.
“What are you moping for?” Bei Bei demanded. “We just had shopping therapy. I thought for sure you’d be happier now.”
“I’m not unhappy,” Ash started.
“But you are,” Bei Bei finished.
“I was just thinking—” Ash sighed again. “—what it might be like to have long hair, and I just…” They shrugged.
“Is that all?” Bei Bei said. “We can get you a wig.”
“I’m a starving student! As if I could afford a quality wig!”
“It doesn’t have to be expensive,” Bei Bei said. “I’ll help you find something nice but affordable online.”
“Okay,” Ash said, somewhat mollified. “I guess I was just blowing things out of proportion—again.”
“You really need to chill.” Bei Bei patted their arm. “I know, anxiety sucks.”
“At least my meds are somewhat stable. I have a mate back home who can hardly go outside some days.”
Bei Bei nodded sympathetically. The two sat in silence for a few moments, and Ash took a sip of their now-lukewarm London Fog. They licked a bit of foam off their lip. The world went on by outside the cafe window, and Ash watched from their place perched atop a bar-style stool, elbows resting on the counter running along the inside of the window.
“Ooh,” Bei Bei said. “She’s hot.”
A very tall Black girl with bantu knots and long legs walked by outside. Ash nodded. She was very attractive, and her barely there black shorts hugged her hips. Ash, who had known they were pansexual long before they figured out their gender, considered themself an equal-opportunity lover.
That is, when they even had a lover. Ash struggled to keep relationships, and they could never figure out why. It wasn’t a lack of attraction, and Ash enjoyed dating. But something always made the situation go sour.
The girl stopped for the traffic light on Davie and Granville, and Bei Bei and Ash looked on with interest. A loud group of tourists passed by the window, and when the group cleared, the girl looked back at them. Ash pretended to be very interested in the dregs of their drink.
Of course, Bei Bei kept on staring.
The girl turned and came towards them. Ash didn’t know what to do, so it was lucky their attention was on Bei Bei. The girl came into the cafe, making her way to where Ash and Bei Bei were sitting.
“Can I help you?” the Black girl asked.
Bei Bei’s eyes sparkled. “I’ve lost my phone. Do you mind calling it for me?”
The girl’s mouth twitched. “That the best you got?”
“Not by a long shot,” Bei Bei replied.
Bei Bei and the girl, who eventually introduced herself as Ouma, flirted away beside Ash. Ash pretended they had no idea who Bei Bei was, in spite of the fact she was sitting right there next to them.
Bei Bei kept running her hand through her newly shorn hair and biting her lip in obvious signs of attraction. Ouma was standing beside them with her hip cocked, head tilted. Ash looked at their phone and their Twitter page for a bit, waiting for Bei Bei and Ouma to finish with their flirting.
“Bye,” Ouma said, flashing a wave as she walked out the door.
“Oh my god, you are incorrigible,” said Ash as soon as Ouma was out of earshot.
“Got her number though,” Bei Bei smirked.
Ash rolled their eyes.
“You’ve got game, girl.”
“You just need more confidence, Ash,” Bei Bei said. “You’re plenty attractive to those who like enbies.”
The real problem was that Ash didn’t look non-binary. They looked like a cis guy. That could cause them trouble in the long run.
“I guess?” Ash said with another shrug. “I’m mostly worried that… Well. I’m trans. It’s a thing that gets a lot of people killed in a lot of places, especially when it comes to dating and sex.”
“Truth bomb time, I guess.” Bei Bei scratched the side of her head. “It’s hard enough being an Asian lesbian. Being trans is a whole other thing.”
Ash just nodded, tried to take another drink, and grimaced when they found their cup empty.
“I’d date a trans lesbian,” Bei Bei continued. “I know it doesn’t really make me special or anything. But I know of a ton of TERF lesbians who wouldn’t.”
Ash made a face at the mention of TERFs. They had enough to deal with at university without having to listen to some transphobe calling herself a feminist saying that trans people were gross. They felt gross a lot of the time anyway, but it got worse when people started calling trans people trash. Ash’s anxiety always skyrocketed if they saw people arguing on social media about it.
“I just want to find a person who would accept me for being genderfluid,” Ash said. “I’m always worried that anyone I’m interested in will turn out to be one of those binary sex-pushing assholes.”
It happened sometimes on Twitter. Somebody with a cute profile pic turned out to be awful, and it always made Ash angry, but also ashamed in a strange way. They hated that they felt ashamed sometimes of something like their identity, but it was still there sometimes, throbbing in their chest.
“I get it,” Bei Bei said. “I know you gotta be careful. But don’t shut yourself off completely.”
“I guess,” Ash said. “It’s not like I’m even used to thinking of myself as non-binary in the first place.”
“You have to start somewhere,” Bei Bei said.
Ash acknowledged this with a nod. Bei Bei got up to get another iced caramel macchiato, and Ash stared out the window at the people going by. Things were tough right now, so Ash had to be tougher.
At fourteen, Ash knew they were pansexual. As a teen, they had dated males, females, and, they assumed, some people in-between. But trans people hadn’t been on their radar at all until university. Ash had always felt that something wasn’t quite right, but nothing ever made sense. Even coming out as queer at fifteen hadn’t made everything click.
Their teen years had been very confusing, years in which nothing seemed to match up exactly. Sometimes, instead of wanting to date a girl, Ash wanted to be a girl. But then, other times, they felt fine presenting as a guy. Their feelings fluctuated, so Ash could never pin down exactly what that meant. It had taken coming to university, thousands of miles from home, to understand what was going on.
Ash was not looking forward to having the second coming-out talk with their parents. They had handled pansexual with good enough grace, but non-binary was a whole other thing. People were so hung up on binary genders and seemed to really hate the idea that binary genders were an outdated concept. Surely people would think that was cool instead of being afraid and angry? Honestly, progress was so slow it felt like going backwards. Ash looked down at their drink and picked at the label morosely. They wanted another one, but their motivation was lacking.
“You’re moping again,” Bei Bei said, taking a sip of her drink.
The barista had written her number on the cup, along with a little smiley face.
Bei Bei had all the luck.
“I just want to find a nice partner to go on dates with and do sappy romantic things like walking along the sea wall at dusk holding hands or sitting on a patio downtown sharing appies and drinks,” Ash complained.
“You just wanna get laid,” Bei Bei said.
Ash flushed.
“That would not go amiss either,” they admitted. “How long has it been?”
“I think it was the redhead girl with the freckles,” said Bei Bei.
“No, I think I saw an Indian exchange student one night,” Ash said.
“No—” Bei Bei said.
“It was—” Ash suddenly remembered.
“Glass chilled-but-no-ice guy,” they both said together.
“Ugh, what a git,” Ash said. “I’m so glad he was a one-night stand. I kind of wanted to tape his mouth shut by the end of the night.”
“Kinky.” Bei Bei laughed.
“Shut it,” Ash said.
The two bickered until it was time for Bei Bei to go to work. Bei Bei worked at a small translation company in the posh Yaletown area, and while she was only a part-timer, it paid decently. She was fluent in Mandarin, Cantonese, and English, so her skills were in high demand. Ash and their monolingual self relied on student loans, which they were not looking forward to paying back. At least they had more time to study. They might only speak English, but they were three years into a four-year English literature degree, so they hoped they spoke it well. Ash said goodbye to Bei Bei and headed to the bus stop. Time to head back to the UBC campus on Point Grey. The number four bus would undoubtedly be there soon, and it would wind its way south through Vancouver and then west through Kitsilano. The weekend was almost over, so many students would be heading back that way.
As expected, a lot of students waited for the bus. Ash fidgeted with the handles of the shopping bags. Being crushed between a load of people, especially when it was their turn to get off or on, kicked their anxiety into overdrive. That many students stuffed into a small space smelled all kinds of funky. The acrid mixture of sweat and cologne was repugnant.
Ash was one of the last ones on. The bus driver yelled at people to move further back so more people could fit on. They did, but barely. Ash was squashed between a row of people sitting down and a group of soccer players. Their cleats gave them away, as several of the men were carrying them or had them hanging off their gym bags. Ash really hoped they wouldn’t bang into them.
Just as they had that thought, the bus lurched wildly into traffic. One of the tall soccer players stumbled back and stepped directly on Ash’s foot. Ash winced as the guy realized what he’d done and apologized. The bus lurched again, and someone else’s elbow knocked Ash’s stomach. Ash tried to move away and was instead trapped between numerous bodies.
This was exactly the nightmare Ash wanted to avoid. They made themself as small as possible in order to avoid being accidentally pummelled. The bus driver audibly swore at someone cutting her off in traffic, and Ash grimaced as a second soccer player stepped on their foot.
A rush of anxiety filled their system. They didn’t want to have a panic attack on the bus. Should they get off to prevent that situation from occurring? Their heartbeat was already picking up. Ash took a deep, steadying breath and closed their eyes.
The bus swung around a corner and dumped Ash right into somebody’s lap. Ash’s eyes flew open and directly into eyes the colour of— What exactly was that precise colour blue? Ash wasn’t actually sure. Dark and jewel-toned, they glinted with amusement.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” Ash blurted out.
They struggled to get up, trying really hard to pretend the guy didn’t smell amazing. How did he manage that on the bus? Ash probably smelled like anxiety sweat and cheap laundry soap.
“Hey, it’s fine,” the man said. “The bus is pretty crowded right now.”
Ash was about to hide forever in mortification when the man laughed lightly in a mutual sort of amusement at the weird situation.
“Here,” the guy said. “Switch with me. I noticed you seemed uncomfortable earlier.”
“Oh, it’s fine—” Ash started.
“Sit,” the stranger demanded and shifted to deposit Ash into the seat.
The guy was tall and solidly built with golden-tawny hair that swept over his forehead. The guy was really very attractive—and was still looking at them with those bluer-than-blue eyes.
“Uh, thanks?” Ash rubbed a hand through their hair.
“It’s really no problem,” the guy said. “By the way, my name is Nolan. Are you a student?”
“Um, I’m Ash.” They looked down at their hands in confusion. “Yeah, I go to UBC.”
“British?” asked Nolan curiously.
“Um, dual citizenship,” they said. “My dad’s British. Mum is Canadian.”
“Oh, that’s probably good for tuition reasons.”
“Yeah.” Ash nodded. “But I did spend a great deal of time growing up in the UK.”
“Cool,” Nolan said. “What’s it like there? Different, I bet.”
Ash realized two things: first, Nolan was using his body as a barrier between Ash and the rest of the crowded bus, making a refuge of sorts, and second, he was talking about inane things to try to calm Ash’s anxiety. Ash flushed and bit their lip, looking down at where their hands clutched their bag.
Nolan gazed at them.
“Oh.” He’d asked a question. Ash blushed as they remembered what he’d said. “Yeah, it’s interesting. Not as much crazy nature stuff and more big cities.”
“Where are you from?” asked Nolan. “I’m just from here, Vancouverite born and bred, basically.”
“Manchester,” Ash said. “More north than London. I considered going to Manchester Metropolitan, but I didn’t want to stay with my parents all the time I was in uni.”
“That’s totally fair,” Nolan said. “I moved into dorms just to avoid that situation.”
“Oh, I’m in dorms too,” Ash said.
“I kind of guessed.” Nolan grinned.
Oh geez, his teeth were all straight and white, and this was bad. Ash needed to not be near this guy. He was just too damn charming. Had Ash mentioned attractive?
“Do you like Canada?” asked Nolan.
“Yeah…” Ash said slowly. “I do. It’s very green here. Lots of mountains and ocean and nature all in one place.”
“I like it too,” Nolan said. “I’ve never been to the UK. Farthest I’ve been is Cancun—which is still pretty cool. I mostly visit places in Canada.”
“Oh! Have you been to PEI?” asked Ash. “I want to go.”
“I have, actually,” Nolan said. “It’s very quiet compared to Vancouver. I like Charlottetown, and Cow’s Ice Cream is definitely something you need to try. I ate my weight in ice cream while I was there.”
“That sounds cool,” said Ash, glancing at Nolan’s face and then away again.
“It’s great!” Nolan said. “And me and my friend Dave went kayaking on the ocean. We got totally sunburned, but it was worth it.”
Ash tried to imagine all that golden skin getting sunburned and couldn’t.
“Um, what are you studying?” Ash asked.
“I’m a biochem major,” said Nolan.
Ash’s heart sank. Not that they really had any expectations about seeing this guy again, but if he were a science major, the likelihood of running into him again dropped dramatically.
Wait, why did they want to run into him again? Nolan was way out of their league.
Instead of voicing any of this, Ash turned back to the conversation at hand.
“That sounds super tough,” Ash replied. “Everyone I know is in the humanities or social sciences.”
Bei Bei was a psych major, and a lot of Ash’s other friends were in anthropology or fellow English majors. Ash had met Bei Bei because they were both in the same first-year English class, and although Ash was an introvert at the best of times and an anxious mess at the worst, somehow they had managed to make a fair number of friends.
