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“Of course.”
“Lovers?” he asks more hesitantly.
“A few. But there was only one man I ever truly loved.”
Before Jeffrey can ask about that unintentional slip—I believe it was unintentional, but perhaps I want him to know, to wonder and be better led to more of the right questions, as much as I can guide him there—Cas and SJ return.
“Ready to check out Fluid Fashion?” SJ asks.
“Uh… yeah! That sounds great.” Jeffrey gets out of the booth, and I follow. I have no doubt that he will press me about what I said. Eventually.
As I stand, a lurch tugs at my insides. A hunger that cannot be sated with a cheeseburger and fries. I need more. To fulfill more. That was too much focus on me and not enough on granting Jeffrey’s desires. He is being too good to me, too kind, when the simple truth is…
I need to be used.
I will need to encourage him to ask for more. For now, at least, I can do so gently.
“Sounds lovely,” I say, as I take Jeffrey’s hand, and he gleefully laces our fingers.
For now, we can continue to make sense.
Chapter eight
Jeffrey
SJ’s shop, Fluid Fashion, is amazing. I’d seen it while it was under construction, but I’d been out of town for the grand opening, and honestly, I’ve been a little nervous to go there since. I assumed it would be like being wrapped up in SJ’s world of perfect expression, both humbling and… nauseating, because I would clearly not belong.
I was right.
I instantly love and hate being here because everything is all so peak queer indulgence, no fucks given, like all the people I admire—and am nothing like.
Fluid Fashion is in the queer district, not far from the clubs, and neighbored by a queer owned art gallery and, naturally, a coffee shop. The queerest of queer coffee shops, so much so that it’s almost difficult to look at it or go inside because even the bricks are rainbow colored. I know I should feel like I’m home on this street, like these are my people, but I always feel like I’m not living out loud enough to fit in.
The shop is beautifully designed and all SJ. Not only her taste, but with sections for genderqueer clothing, specific queer designers, drag, a wall of rainbow and other flag designs, and even with a nook of nicknacks, books, and some of the art from the neighboring gallery on consignment.
I think the biggest problem is that I don’t know which section is mine, which is why I usually end up in clothing I can hide in.
“Is it overwhelming for you, Jeffrey?” Odai asks. “You seem troubled.”
“Do I? Overwhelmed is sort of the norm for me when I’m out of my element.” I pass my hand over the fabric of an incredibly soft cropped zip-up, black but with patchwork in pink and blue. It is so cool, but I would look ridiculous in it.
We separated with Cas and SJ practically from the entrance, since SJ ran squealing toward someone she knew—a common occurrence, given she knows and loves everyone.
We’re nearing the drag section, but it’s a gradual change. First, just more feminine clothing, then some costumes, similar to my Mattie wear, and finally, glam city, hardcore drag, including makeup supplies, wigs, waist cinchers. I am maybe a little drawn to a powder blue boa with silver tinsel in it that would match most of my Mattie pieces.
But another part of a costume isn’t what I want.
“There is little to your liking?” Odai asks, brow scrunched as if trying to understand.
“The first time you saw me, I was dressed basically like this.” I gesture at a bustled skirt and corset nearby. “And I do love it. Sometimes. But I’m not an impersonator, as you put it. And I don’t want to be a woman. I don’t want to be nonbinary either.” I look across the store at the more neutral or genderfluid section, and then realize Odai’s newest brow scrunch might be because he doesn’t know that word yet. “Someone who falls in between and is neither male nor female.”
“Ah. Yes, I have known many who fit that description. People are vastly varied creatures.”
“We are. But I don’t seem to be anything. Not anything that feels entirely right.” Surrounded by so many pieces and people that just scream identity, mine feels even more swallowed.
“But you take such joy in your friend.” Odai indicates SJ, where she and Cas are beside the checkout counter, still chatting with the friend they ran into.
“Well, yeah. SJ knows who she is. Cas too if a little more muted about it. It seems like everyone here knows. And now I feel bad because I don’t know what to buy but I need to buy something. I want to show SJ my support. This place is amazing, and I am so happy for her that it’s doing well.” I try to move on. There is a pair of over the knee boots that are absolute sex on legs, literally, with ruffles as trim up top. Next, past the costume and drag area, is clubwear, mostly skimpier attire, like mesh, crop tops, short-shorts.
