The Adventures of William Fitts, page 15
“It’s okay if you’re busy,” she said quickly. “It’s completely fine.”
“No! I mean, yes, that is, I’m free. On Saturday.” I pushed my hands deep into my pockets. “Any, um, particular reason?”
“Do you want to go to dinner?” Her head was cocked on one side, the nerves almost completely hidden below her hopeful smile.
I knew, rationally, that I should be excited, and I knew what, at any other point over the past six months, I would have said. So I said it.
“I’d love to.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll see you Saturday, then.”
“Yes. Saturday. I’ll… I’ll text you.”
***
The last thing I’d expected when I finished work for the week was to find Jay waiting outside the doors to the office building, a carry-on bag in hand and an impish grin on their face.
“What are you up to?” I asked them as I slung my bag over my shoulder, resigned to being dragged along in whatever they’d got themself into this time.
“Why should I be up to anything?” they asked, trying their best to be the picture of innocence.
“You look like you’re ready to flee the country,” I deadpanned.
“Just the city. And I’m taking you with me.”
I made a show of taking out my phone and checking it. “No… being kidnapped by my obnoxious friend is not in my diary, I’m afraid. Can we reschedule?”
“Why, got somewhere better to be?”
I didn’t answer, and their mouth fell open in a grin. “You do have plans! Without me? I’m hurt. But if these are romantic plans then I completely understand as long as you tell me everything right now.”
I started walking down the street as if being a few feet away from the building would shield me from any eavesdroppers. “You know Milly? Milly Jankowski, who I work with.”
“Not personally, but go on.”
I shrugged awkwardly, kicking the ground with the toe of my shoe. “Well, she asked me out. And I said yes!”
“Bloody hell, Will, that’s awesome!” said Jay. “Look at you, all loved up! So you’re seeing her tonight?”
“Tomorrow,” I said.
“Perfect!” they grinned. “Our return ticket is tomorrow morning. You’ll be back in time, I promise.” They watched me with suspicion. “I can’t help but notice you’re not completely ecstatic about this.”
“Can you blame me?” I said dryly, not in the mood to be interrogated. “I – shit, sorry. I just… of all the times, you know?”
They nodded sympathetically. “I get it. But look, maybe a weekend away is what you need to take your mind off things.”
Jay had always had a tendency of going a little overboard, and after a particularly memorable night out which resulted in them waking up in France, I’d always been wary about trusting them with travel details. I felt completely justified, therefore, in being wary when I asked, “And where exactly are we coming back from?”
They grinned. “The beach. Now, come on, our train leaves in half an hour.”
They set off towards the tube station, leaving me to run and catch up while trying to work out what was going on.
“But I haven’t packed any clothes!”
“Sorted it with Darcy, she packed some spare underwear and a change of clothes.”
“But you haven’t said where we’re going--”
“I told you. The beach.”
“Jeez, we live on an island. Be more specific.”
“We’re going to Brighton. I booked us a place on one of those spare room things online.”
Admittedly, it sounded more planned out than most of Jay’s attempts at travel. “Okay, so… why?”
They smirked. “We, my friend, are getting frisky.”
***
The train journey to the coast took much longer than I’d expected, so by the time we arrived it was already dark. We found our room with little trouble, quickly changing out of our work clothes and into something more comfortable before heading down to the pier and buying fish and chips.
“Damn, these taste good,” said Jay, inhaling chips. “Don’t get them like this in London.”
I grunted my approval through a mouthful of battered cod.
They paused in their eating, resting the wooden fork on top of the paper.
“Careful,” I said. “Leave it too long and a seagull will get them.”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said.” They carefully covered their chips with the paper, watching a hungry-looking seagull with caution. “About Jamie.”
I stayed silent, waiting for them to finish what they wanted to say.
“You were right,” they said after a few moments. “I – I owe it to myself. And to him. So I’m going to call him. See if we can fix something up.”
I put my arm over their shoulder, giving a quick hug. “It’ll be alright. The two of you will work it out, I know you will.”
They sniffed, rubbing at their nose. I went to finish my chips when, with no warning, a seagull swooped down and snatched up the last few remnants. We both jumped a mile in fright. I let out an undignified scream as the seagull flew off with the rest of my meal while Jay doubled up laughing.
“Well, that’s a sign if you ever saw one,” I said, standing up and brushing off my trousers. “Now, if you’re quite finished, I quite fancy getting a couple of pints in me before baring all.”
There were plenty of pubs which, by London standards, were reasonably priced, so we wondered into the first one we came across and ordered a couple of drinks apiece. Liquid courage consumed we raced each other down to the beach, Jay unbuttoning their shirt as they went.
“Come on, Will!” they shouted gleefully as they tugged off their shoes, leaving them on the shore of the rocky beach. “It’s not that cold!”
“That’s a lie!” I called back, already shivering even with a t-shirt and jacket on but taking my shoes off nonetheless. “How are you coping with this?”
“It’s called a beer jacket, my friend!”
They stood up as I caught up to them, them stark naked and me not far behind.
I’d expected to feel more nervous and self-conscious, but a combination of the alcohol and Jay’s complete lack of embarrassment put me at ease more than I’d thought was possible. My main concern was the temperature, and the knowledge that the sea was going to be far colder than the air.
I quickly glanced around before taking off my pants, checking that there was no one else on the beach except a group of drunk and probably high students. The moment my boxers hit the ground Jay was running towards the sea, calling behind them, “Hurry up, slow coach!”
They were waist-deep by the time I had water up to my ankles, the cold making my toes curl.
“Fuck!” Jay yelled, wrapping their arms around themselves. “It’s fucking freezing in here! I think my nipples are about to fall off!”
I quickly caught up to them, determined to ignore the freezing cold of the Channel as I quickly tugged Jay down until their shoulders were under the water.
“Shit!” they shouted. “Jesus, Will, this is not okay.”
“You get used to it,” I said, lying through my chattering teeth. “Come on, let’s swim.”
Apart from anything else, swimming kept our circulation going and stopped us from getting too cold. We weren’t out for long, neither of us particularly keen to lose any fingers or other essentials, but we swam out a further hundred metres or so, turning back to see the lights of the town.
There was no sudden moment of liberating freedom, of exhilaration, but as we swam and laughed and splashed each other with the freezing cold water I couldn’t help but grin and laugh. There was something wonderfully isolating about just the two of us in the sea, the town lights sparkling along the sea front. I felt unimportant. Life felt more…
More possible.
I was certain it wasn’t just me that felt that way. Jay looked alive, grinning stupidly as they swam around, swearing obscenely into the night but laughing with – as they put it – gay abandon.
As we returned to the shore, teasing each other about how we forgot a towel as we struggled against our clothes, it was obvious that in a matter of hours, Jay seemed to have shed the weight of the world, and they certainly weren’t the only one.
Chapter 18
It wasn’t like I’d never been on a date before. I’d been on plenty of first dates over the past few years, but they’d never ended well enough to warrant a second. Dating had been this strange hobby for so long, fun mixed with a healthy dose of anxiety. Something I’d realised as I became more confident in myself was that I am, at heart, a social person, and getting to know new people for a couple of hours at a time was something I enjoyed.
This was the first time, though, that I would go on a date with someone I was already friends with – pseudo-date with Darcy notwithstanding. It was also the first time that I would go on a date with someone I really, really liked, and the stakes felt worryingly high. What if she stood me up? Or if the whole thing went terribly and we didn’t so much as look at each other for weeks? Or what – and this was my biggest fear – if I just blurted out that I was trans over the starters? It had happened once before and since then I’d been terrified that it would happen again. Nothing had been more humiliating than seeing my date’s face fall as she explained to me that she wasn’t gay, but she’d never met a trans person and how did it work exactly?
That evening had fallen quite dramatically into the ‘terrible’ pile.
Staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I nervously combed my hair again, quickly adjusted the purple shirt I was wearing, and took a deep breath.
It would be okay. It had to be. In fact, it was going to be great. If I could dig deep enough beneath my fears, I had a good feeling about it. We got on really well, we enjoyed spending time together, and worst-case scenario was that we decided to just be friends. There was no reason to be worried.
I’d hoped that there would be no one between me and the front door as I left, but I had no such luck. Lizzy and Darcy were there as always, trying their best not to look like they’d been eagerly waiting for me.
“Oh, you look so handsome!” Lizzy exclaimed, every bit the doting mother as she dashed over to try and smooth my hair down.
“I feel offended, you didn’t make this much of an effort with me,” Darcy joked, rolling her eyes at Lizzy’s antics.
“Oh, hush, you,” Lizzy chided her. “Now, you’re all ready to go? All phasers set to woo?”
“Okay, that’s the kind of lame thing only I can say,” I laughed, ducking out from under her and grabbing my coat. “I’m going to leave before I suffer any more second-hand embarrassment. I’ll see you guys later.”
“Text us if you’re not coming home!”
“Jesus, Lizzy. I’m serious, I’ll see you later.”
I successfully made it out the door and to the top of the staircase when I was stopped by Darcy, running to catch me up.
“Will, wait a second.”
I huffed, starting to get annoyed. “What is it now?”
Darcy’s face, though, was set and serious. “Are you out to her?”
I should have known this was coming; I could usually spot over-protective-Darcy a mile away. “No. Not yet.” Darcy opened her mouth to speak, but I kept talking. “It hasn’t come up yet. I – I hope she’ll take it well, as and when, and even if she doesn’t, she’s not the kind of person to be mean about it. I’ll be okay.”
She didn’t have to say anything; her eyebrows did the job for her.
“I can look after myself!” I said, but I couldn’t find it in me to be really annoyed.
To my surprise, Darcy pulled me into a tight hug. “Just… let me know if any arses need kicking, okay?”
I snorted at that. “You? Kicking someone’s arse?”
She shrugged wryly. “I’ll set the wrath of God into them. Lizzy can do the actual arse-kicking, she’s good at that.”
***
“This was fun,” said Milly as we stepped out of the restaurant. “I’ll admit that I wasn’t sure how this would go, so… I’m glad it went well.”
I couldn’t help but feel buoyed up by that, trying my hardest not to let a stupid grin take over my face. “Me too. We should do this again. If – if you want to, of course.”
“I do,” she smiled, and I let the stupid grin do its thing. She smiled and laughed, which would indicate finding it adorable and dorky rather than just plain weird.
We were standing still outside the restaurant, probably blocking the door for anyone else who wanted to go in or out, but I couldn’t think of what to do or say at this point. Would kissing her be too forward? Should I ask first? Would that ruin the mood, though?
“You know,” Milly said, clearly trying to sound conversational. “If you want… my flat isn’t far from here. If you fancy a coffee.”
My mind flew into a panicked overdrive. She wanted me to go back to her place, which would mean – well, a lot more than kissing, that’s for sure. But that was good, wasn’t it? That she wanted that, that she liked me that way, and it wasn’t like I’d never thought about it because men do think about sex a lot, all that damn and blessed testosterone, and to be wanted that way…
But I could just imagine it. We’d be there, making out (Oh God, I wanted to make out with her so badly) and she’d put her hand on my leg and slowly without me thinking anything of it she’s moving her fingers up my thigh and she’d reach the top and find –
“Will?”
I jumped, pulled back to reality. “Y-yes?”
“It’s okay,” said Milly, smiling endearingly and with all too much understanding. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to. No pressure. And we could literally just drink coffee.”
I nodded, determinedly not letting myself think about what she might have inferred from my internal crisis. “Coffee – coffee would be good.”
I was grateful for the night air as we walked back to Milly’s flat, the cold chasing away the effects of the wine. If she noticed that I was deep in my own thoughts she didn’t say anything, chatting about anything and everything while I desperately worked out what to do. I’d been acting weirdly, that much was obvious, and weird enough that Milly would want an explanation. And if I was serious about dating her, if I ever wanted this to go beyond a couple of dinners, I would have to tell her sooner or later.
I was dreading it already.
Milly’s flat was a small, two-bedroom ground floor apartment, with a combined living area that wasn’t quite large enough to be considered open plan. The sofa, I discovered as I settled in to one corner, was the kind of soft that only comes from decades of tenants lounging around and ruining any structure the cushions once had.
“One coffee, milk, two sugars,” Milly said, crossing over to the sofa and handing me one of the mugs she was carrying.
“Thanks.” I said, taking the mug wrapping my hands around it.
A silence fell for the first time since we’d gone into the restaurant. I couldn’t help but feel horrifically uncomfortable, desperately wanting to crawl out of my own skin, but instead I hid my face with the coffee mug, sitting stiffly so my knee wouldn’t bounce up and down. I registered a movement on the sofa as Milly moved, tucking her right leg under her so she could face me more easily.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” she asked bluntly. My head jerked round to look at her, my face probably – definitely – betraying the absolute fear I felt.
“Yes.”
She brushed her hair behind her shoulder, propping her head on her hand with her elbow on the back of the sofa. “Are you a virgin?”
I let out a nervous laugh of relief, feeling like my entire body was twitching. “Was it that obvious?”
“No,” she said. “Well – yes. It was just now, when we were outside the restaurant, but before then – well, I’d wondered occasionally, but it wasn’t obvious. It’s fine, it really is. I was just curious.”
I nodded, my face burning.
“I think it’s sweet,” she added, watching my reactions carefully. “I mean--”
“It’s fine,” I said quickly. “I – I know what you mean.”
There was another long silence, somehow even worse than the first.
“I’ve never had a girlfriend,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. “Never managed to get past the second date. I guess we’re starting to see why.”
I felt the sofa move again as Milly shifted closer to me, and I managed not to twitch as she took my hand.
“Hey,” she said soothingly, reaching up with her other hand to run it along my hairline. “It’s okay. I know it’s difficult, and can be stressful, but – well, I really like you. And we all have things that we worry about or we’re anxious about.”
I looked up and met her eyes, holding her gaze for a moment before nodding. I knew what she was going to do, what she wanted to do long before it happened, because I wanted it too, more than I’d admit to myself. She brought her hand to my jaw, running her thumb over the bristles on my cheek for a moment before leaning in and kissing me softly.
I had only kissed one person before, and it was a wet, tongue-filled affair in the changing rooms after PE in school one day. That had been sloppy and empty, just two teenagers curious to see what it was like.
Over the past year, I’d seen Lizzy and Darcy kiss more times than I could count. There were quick pecks as they left for work, or slow greetings when they saw each other at the end of the day, or charged and filled with the promise of more later.
This was nothing like those kisses.
It was a reassurance, a way of sealing everything we’d said to each other. No matter what happened now, everything up to this point was sacred and kept in a kiss.
We pulled apart but stayed close, our lips barely touching, our noses brushing against each other.
I whispered, “There’s something I have to tell you.”
She nodded, gently squeezing the hand she was holding. She didn’t look surprised, but it couldn’t have been a difficult deduction.
