Page 82 of A Little Bit Naughty

“Yeah, I’ve seen that dress code. It’s almost like the skirts are—utilitarian. Like an army uniform.”

“Yup. That’s exactly it. But when all of my friends were suddenly becoming b’nei mitzvah and having parties, all the girls started showing up in these sparkly, tight things, I kind of freaked out. They just looked so… adult. Like they were going to prom or something. I wore the most boring, shapeless black dress ever for my bat mitzvah, and I hated every minute of it. Somewhere around there I decided that I didn’t want to grow up. Like, I just wanted to opt out of everything that being an adult woman meant, even though I didn’t have any idea what I wanted to be instead.”

Isaac looked up to check on Remi’s reaction. “Sorry, am I weirding you out?” He wasn’t worried, after Remi had been so good about everything before. But he still felt weirded out by it sometimes.

“Nope,” Remi answered easily. “But I do want to see your baby pictures now. I can just imagine cute little Isaac popping up from under a table. And the beautiful thing is, you still don’t have to grow up.” He winked.

“Believe me, I know.” Isaac smiled back. This was getting a little easier now. “But I hadn’t figured it out then. I was just so confused. I mean, in high school I actually decided I was a lesbian.” He laughed a little bit too loudly. Because lesbian somehow meant not just being a woman, but actively identifying as one, and it always felt squicky and weird saying that about himself. “It sounds crazy now, but I had to figure it out. My girlfriend at the time was really butch—leather jacket, combat boots, buzz cut, the whole thing. I was just… enamored with her whole aesthetic.”

“I think I know where this story is going…” Remi’s eyes shone, looking amused rather than bothered in any way.

“Yep. I didn’t figure it out until years later, but the reason I was so attracted to her was because she represented this possibility for what I could be. I mean, we’re still good friends and she’s a great person. But honestly, I wanted to be her more than I wanted to date her.”

“I totally hear you,” Remi laughed. “My first dating relationship was with this really butch girl in high school, too. She’s got a wife now, and that relationship was what we both needed to figure out we were queer. She was kind of the closest I could get to dating a man until I realized… I could just date men.”

“I want pictures of you and your butch high school girlfriend.”

Remi groaned. “I suppose I could arrange that. My haircut was terrible.”

Isaac laughed. “That’s the fun part.”

Remi covered his face with his hand, leaving five powdery white dots in a halo around his face. “Alright, so butch girlfriends for the win. What next?”

“In college, I started dressing in a more masculine way, though not completely. I started calling myself bisexual, though that was confusing, too. The thing was, I was attracted to men, but I also knew I wasn’t straight. Like, I wanted to date men, but I didn’t want to be the woman, you know? But I didn’t quite have words for it.”

Remi nodded encouragingly.

“I dated a bisexual guy for a few weeks, and he got me into kink. We realized we weren’t compatible in a lot of ways, but he opened my eyes to more possibilities.”

“I bet.” Remi smiled.

“And then I…” Isaac heaved a deep breath. He’d already committed to this, because he honestly wanted Remi to know. But that didn’t make it easier.

Remi put down his trowel and wiped his hands. “Do you want to tell me the rest, sweetheart? You look like you’re not sure, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Isaac clung to that sweetheart like it was a life raft in a storm. He was maybe, just maybe, falling for Remi, but the past still hurt.

“No, I think I want to tell you. It’s just hard.”

“Then give me a moment. I want to clean up enough here that I can give you my full attention.”

Isaac nodded. That was a nice respite. He watched Remi apply two more tiles—apparently once you put the grout, or maybe it was mastic, on the wall you had to use it immediately—and then wash up in the sink. Isaac didn’t even try to fold any more clothes. He just kicked the loose ones back into the basket and set the folded ones on top.

Then he just watched Remi. Remi, who had met him after his transition, but hadn’t seen him naked. Remi, who might logically know that Isaac was trans, and had put his mouth on Isaac’s packer, but hadn’t really been confronted with the full picture yet.

Remi hadn’t seen Isaac’s parents slip and call him his dead name. He hadn’t taken off Isaac’s clothes. He hadn’t heard all of Isaac’s secrets and plans.

All too soon, the screen tilted and the walls jumped as Remi scooped up the computer and moved to the dining room. He settled in at the table, then seemed to look Isaac up and down. Even across an entire continent and two small screens, Isaac could feel the heat of his gaze.

“Get Roary and Lizzy before you tell me,” he commanded gently.

Oh, yeah. That was a good idea. Isaac picked them up, squeezing them against his ribs.

“Now go on when you’re ready and stop if you need to. I know I’m far away, but I’ve got you.”

Isaac nodded to himself. “OK, so I want to start by saying that my Da… Owen, I mean.” It was still weird to think of him by his first name. He’d held that special title for so long. “He’s a really good guy. And a good Daddy.”

Remi’s eyes narrowed. “Starting the story like that is not helping his case.”