Love During Robot Fighting Time - ZatannasLovelyAssistant (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

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***

Chapter 1

Keith

“No, no, NOOOO!” I screamed as my robot took a drill to the undercarriage. Frank’sDai Guren, an orange and red abomination of five drills on four wheels,penetrated myPolyphemus, a purple and green vertical spinner with a hacksaw blade that had been obliterated within the first minute of the match. And that was before Frank had gotten under me with his rotating maw of drills and pinned me against the wall of the arena and started going right on into me.

“OH MY GOD, CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS!DAI GURRENIS PERFORMING OPEN HEART SURGERY ONPOLYPHEMUS!Frank Watanabe is eviscerating Keith Calloway right now! Absolutely destroying him!” Marty Weston, a tall and stocky white guy who was clearly on a lot of cocaine whenever he was on the job, bellowed from behind the plexiglass screen of the announcer’s booth.

His compatriot, Derek Benes, an absolutelyshreddedblack man in his early thirties with a shaved head and a voice lower and smoother than an old time radio announcer’s, responded in a mildly calmer manner, “I think this is the first time we’ve seen Keith Calloway speechless this whole tournament, Marty!”

I grimaced. I hated my name enough without hearing other people say it. Couldn’t they just say my robot’s name instead? What was so hard about that?

Not that there was much of a robot left at this point.Dai Gurenwas tearingPolyphemusto shreds. I was gonna have to build an entirely new bot at this point.

“Well I think this is the first time we’ve seen this much of a reaction from Frank Watanabe, Derek!”

He was referring, of course, to the fact that Frank’s normally steely stoicism had finally cracked at his sheer f*cking delight of having beaten me like this. I grinded my teeth and tried my hardest not to swear that top of my lungs as Frank threw his head back and cackled.

Maybe going into this match bragging about how I was gonna humiliate him and his team had been a bad idea.

… Look, someone has to play the heel, okay?

Frank was a short, skinny Japanese-American boy who shared my twenty-two years of age. His shaggy black hair constantly threatened to cover his face. His girlfriend, Olivia Root, a curvy and shapely black girl with a wild mane of nappy hair, flanked him in the copilots section of the blue square, alongside their friend and chief mechanic Zeke Underhill, a tan young man with neatly-trimmed raven hair. A smile had finally appeared on Frank’s normally blank face, all smug and self-satisfied as he finished me off.

“AND THAT IS IT!DAI GURENand Frank Watanabe have done it! The twenty-two year old genius from Loyola Marymount University has won his first Robot Fighting championship, during his first year in the pros! Can you believe it?!”

I sure as sh*t couldn’t.

I watched as the attendants scooped up the obliterated remains of my crowning glory, my beautiful, beautifulPolyphemusoff of the arena floor and began moving it back into the pits. I slinked away with my head held low, my gaze so fixed on my shoes I could barely so I didn’t have to look anyone in the eyes. My chest was an empty cavity of shame and disappointment; part of me wanted to cry, but the tears just wouldn’t come. They hadn’t in a long time- I honestly don’t remember the last time I actually, openly wept. Maybe when I was like… Eleven? When my first dog had died? I guess that’s a more appropriate death to cry over than an inanimate machine, but still, winning this tournament had been my dream since I was at least eleven, so you’d think I’d at least be able to shed an errant tear or two.

Oh f*cking well, I guess.

My hands jammed in my pockets, I skulked away from the spotlight and the cheering fans… and the jeering ones hurling obscenities at me. Not surprising- I played my part a little too well, and there are few things as satisfying as watching a conceited asshole completely fail to deliver on his own self-imposed hype.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said, ‘I’m going to make everyone cry for mama’ on camera at the beginning of the tourney.

I crawled into the pit, a brightly lit room with rows of LED lights hanging overhead. I’d like to think nobody in there was staring at me, but like… I’d just lost. It didn’t seem likely they were staring at the empty doorway behind me.

Nate Haverfield, a portly middle-aged white guy with a big bushy black beard, was on my left tinkering with his ‘bot, a behemoth of an all-black horizontal spinner calledAnsible. I’d beaten him in the first round of the tournament, and his eyes lit up with delight when he saw me.

“Well, well, wellllllll, look who it is,” Haverfield said, “If it isn’t big bad Calloway. How you doing, Princess?”

I grinded my teeth as my heart-rate spiked and my fists balled on reflex. He’d taken to calling me that since day one on account of my long, messy brown hair.

“Hm,” I grunted. Good, that would throw him off- don’t give him anything to work with, he won’t be able to give me any grief.

“What’s the matter, too chickensh*t to say anything?” Haverfield said, throwing his head back and laughing.

Ignore him, ignore him, ignore him-

I stared down at the broken pile of shrapnel my bot had been reduced to. I grabbed a wrench and started loosening the bolts, letting myself get lost in the work.

A few people talked around me as I disassembled my robot into as many salvageable components as I could muster. By the time I was done, I had maybe enough left to turn into a quarter of a regulation-sized machine for next year. The rest… I could make some money selling it as scrap metal. The cheapskates in the engineering program at my old community college would probably rip me off, but it was worth a shot.

I put everything on a cart and started hauling it through the now-empty garage. Only one overhead light was on every half-dozen feet, and the silence in the garage was, to use a time-honored cliche, deafening. Everyone had cleared out an hour ago- the crowd, the crew, the announcers, and all the contestants. The season was over, the victor was crowned, everyone was either out partying or at home with their families.

I sighed. I wasn’t particularly interested in the former, given the amount of mocking I’d probably be subjected to, and it wasn’t like anyone was waiting for me at home with my folks both out of town. I wondered if they’d had the pleasure of watching their son get humiliated on cable television.

I trailed across the empty garage, where I found, of all the damn people in the whole damn City of Angels, Frank Watanabe leaning in the doorway with a haunted look on his face. Hands jammed in his pockets, shaggy black hair practically covering his face. He was staring at the ceiling like he was looking for something, the orange glow of the exit sign casting a harsh light onto his sallow, acne-marked face.

I gulped. Oh joy to the freaking world, this freaking guy had been standing there waiting for me to show up so he could gloat without fear of anyone seeing him and judging him for going too far. I was in for it now. He hadn’t even brought the rest of his team- he’d wanted to do this personally.

What an ass.

May as well get this over with. Try to retain some miniscule portion of my dignity.

“Hey,” I said.

Frank just stood there, staring up at nothing. The only sound was the faint buzz of the electric sign.

“Uh, good fight,” I said.

Still nothing.

“You, uh, you really gave me a good beating,” I said. “The best man won.” The word, the ‘m’ word, felt weird. It always did. It had gotten worse in the past five years, since I’d turned eighteen, and it had started applying to me. The ‘b’ word had always been weird as well- I’d never been able to put my finger on why. Just would have rather been called a person, I guess.

I guess Frank had a complicated relationship with the word too, because that was when he started crying. Not much at first, just a few strings of tears falling down from his eyes, but then one of them hit his forearm, and he started blinking and looking down, as if finally realizing he was crying.

“Hey, uh, are you alright?” I asked.

He turned to me, as only then registering who I was, and his normally blank face twisted into the most irate scowl I’d seen since high school. “f*ck OFF! JUST f*ck OFF ALREADY, YOU f*ckING ASSHOLE! f*ck! OFF!”

I stepped back, gulping. I blinked rapidly, my heart-rate shooting way, way up and echoing inside my ear drums. My hands started shaking, and a tightness went through my chest. I wanted to scream, wanted to hurl obscenities, wanted to step over a line and get very personal and brutal with my insults… But the energy just wasn’t there.

I wanted to cry too, but the tears were still nowhere to be found.

“Just let me through, I’ll be out of your way,” I mumbled, not making eye contact.

“What?!” he sneered.

“You’re blocking the exit, idiot,” I glared.

His jaw dropped, but then he did a double-take. “Oh. Um. Right.”

He made way, and I ambled out into the darkened, mostly empty parking lot.

“Frankie?” a masculine voice trilled behind me. “What’s- oh boy. Hey, hold up a sec!”

I stopped beneath the light of a streetlamp, the Los Angeles air and light pollution blotting out the stars in spite of the otherwise clear night sky offering no obstruction. I turned around and faced Zeke Underhill.

“What?” I demanded.

“What did you say to h… Him?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “Just… It was a good fight. The better bot won. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” Zeke said. “You didn’t say anything else? Nothing needlessly hostile? No grandstanding or attempts at dick-measuring?”

“What? No, why the hell would I do that?”

“Because you’ve been a complete dick most of the season. I wouldn’t put it past you to be a sore loser,” Zeke said.

I opened my mouth, and a dull sort of grunt came out, but I stopped short of actually offering a rebuttal. He wasn’t wrong. Still… He wasn’t quite right either. I had to defend myself. And I was officially sick of being pegged as something I’m not. “I play to the crowd. The audience loves a heel, so I give them one! That’s it! Why does everyone always think I’m like that when the cameras aren’t rolling?” I said.

“Because you don’t really give us much else to work with, dude,” Zeke said.

I flinched. There was another epithet I hated. “You know what? Fine You’ve got me. That’s who I am, I guess! Clearly you all know me better than I know myself! Fine. I’m the asshole. Tell your little buddy that he can rest easy knowing he killed the big bad jerk and his ugly f*cking robot.”

Zeke hesitated, then said, “Okay, look, why don’t you just tell me what happened then-”

“You don’t care,” I said. “None of you do. And I don’t need you to. I’m a one-person band, and that’s how I like it. I’ll see you next year, and your stupid friend and his stupid girlfriend too.”

“Hey, um, maybe I was a little rash here. I’m sorry for-”

“Save it,” I said, hauling my wagon over to my beat-up blue pick-up truck. I loaded everything into my trunk then climbed into the front and drove myself home.

My parents and I lived in Venice Beach, and before you say anything, no, we’re not rich. Quite the opposite, in fact. We owned a small clothing shop a handful of blocks from the water and lived in the cramped apartment above it.

With the folks out of town for a small business owners convention, it was just me.

I thought about getting drunk by myself off of my parents’ liquor cabinet; thought about turning on some heavy metal and letting the shower pelt me with water so long it turned cold; thought about ordering an extra large pineapple, bacon, and jalapeno pizza and eating the entire damn thing myself in one night.

Instead, I decided to get to work.

But not before a bit of balm on my wounded vanity: I went into my room and dug out the bra and panties I had stashed away in the back of my closet. I stripped, slid them on, and then redressed, and, save for the slight bump in my chest afforded to me by the empty bra, nobody would be the wiser even if they saw me.

Not that they ever would. This was a part of me that didn’t leave my house, didn’t leave my room unless my parents were both gone. It started at my twelfth birthday party. We’d been playing truth or dare, of all things, and my then-friend dared me to go into my parents’ shop and try on a pair of panties. I don’t think he’d actually expected me to do it, and the look on his face was the funniest thing I’d ever seen (granted I was twelve, so the bar was lower back then). What was less funny was the way it had made me feel: good. Nice and warm. Comfy. Cute, even.

So cute it gave me a… Reaction.

Pretty perverted, right? There were real, actual trans people out there in the world, struggling every day to be the people they wanted to be, and then there were sick little freaks like me who appropriated that struggle for some weird fetish. Unfortunately, one taste and I was hooked, and I managed to acquire an underwear set for myself a couple years later through a place in Santa Monica I knew would be nice enough not to tell anyone.

Warm and fuzzy in my undergarments like the dumb little pervert I was, I went down into my garage and got to work. I had eleven months to prepare for the next tournament, and by God, I was gonna show those Team Dai Gurren assholes what for. They thought I was a heel now, they ain’t seen nothing yet.

Eleven Months Later

The small but passionate crowd cheered in the stands as the first fight of the season ended. I was up next, and it was the match I’d been hoping for, praying for, begging for. Team Dai Gurren.

Assuming they weren’t gonna miss the match through their damn tardiness!

I looked at my new bot:Polyphemus 2.0had a few new tricks up her sleeve, not the least of which being the katana protruding from her front. Okay, more like a short-sword, but you get the idea. The point was, I now had a melee weapon that wouldn’t break as easily, wouldn’t short out, would be just fine. And that was in addition to the flamethrowers strapped to both sides, modified super-soakers filled with gasoline and with a flint attached to the front that would spark whenever I squeezed the trigger.

I waited in the wings, controller in hand, bot at the ready. I made sure for the millionth time that my black Gundam t-shirt was tucked into my baggy blue jeans. I didn’t need anyone seeing my panties. I’d taken to wearing them outside occasionally, just as a mild stress-ventilator that went with me wherever I went. And stress-relief was something my stomach ache had been demanding that day, so I decided to take a risk.

Honestly, it felt pretty great wearing them outside the house: like I was getting away with something, putting one over on everybody. There was a weirdo with a cringey, offensive, culturally-appropriative fetish walking amongst them, and nobody had any idea. Hah. Idiots.

Finally, I got the go-ahead, and stepped out into the crowd. The cheers turned to boos and laughter within seconds. I winced as I pilotedPolyphemustowards the battle box. Whatever, I deserved this. May as well have fun with it.

I found a bubble of maniacal laughter in the chaos of my aching stomach, and let it rise to the surface. I cackled like the maniacal supervillain my enemies demanded I be, plastering a fake smile to my face as I drank in the rush of it all.

I took my place in the red square as my name was called and my introduction delivered.

I looked over towards the blue square, and found the familiar face of Zeke Underhill. He’d grown out his hair a few inches, traded the shaggy beard in for a light smattering of stubble that showed off his tan face. His skin had cleared up, and he was wearing a tuxedo, of all freaking things, along with a top-hat and carrying a damn cane! You’ve gotta be kidding me with this hammy weirdo!

I mean, it was a good look for him, though. Objectively, he looked good. Really good, in fact. His face was honestly quite handsome. Objectively speaking. Said as a fellow male capable of recognizing what looks good as far as male faces go (ie, not mine, but apparently his).

Was I jealous?

Didn’t feel green.

What was it, then?

But where was-

“And look at that, Derek, looks like there’s been a few more changes to teamDai Gurren’s lineup,” Marty Weston said in the announcer’s booth on the opposite side of the battle box.

“No, Marty, I think that’s just a picture of personal growth going on here. Ladies and gentlemen, say hello to the new and improvedFaithWatanabe!”

I’m sorry, what?

Towards the battle box marched a very, very cute girl. She had long black hair worn in a French Braid trailing down her back, was clad in a red sequin mini-skirt and a blue sequin halter top middled by a solid white belt and punctuated by high-heeled white boots. She had golden stud earrings and wore a golden chain necklace, and her gorgeous face was accented perfectly by immaculate, natural-looking makeup.

I almost, ALMOST, let the single syllable deadname fall out of my mouth, but I caught myself and stammered, “Faith?” instead. She gracefully stepped up to the blue square across from me, shaking her braid and giving it a light tug.

“Yes, that’s right, Marty, the captain of teamDai Gurrencame out as transgender and started her transition between seasons,” Derek said.

“Good for her!” Marty said.

I couldn’t stop staring. She was like… Really freaking pretty, okay? It was mesmerizing.

Fr… Faith looked over at me and gave me a positively EVIL smirk, and then a wink so condescending it may as well have come from a third-rate attorney on a winning streak.

“LET THE BOT BATTLE BEGIN!” Marty bellowed.

Faith slammed her hand on her button.

I yelped and did the same.

I grabbed a hold of my controller and hadPolyphemuscharge full-speed ahead forDai Gurren. The battle box was a perfectly square arena, a floor of concrete with occasional slits within for the rising kill-saws. A rotating set of screws resided on the wall of the left-hand side, while on the right side was a giant metal mallet designed to smash unsuspecting bots from above.

I dove right in, making it to DG within seconds. Perfect- rebuilding with a lighter shell had given me an edge in terms of speed- DG wasn’t able to dodge in time to completely avoid the first blow from my katana. It cut across DG’s side as the bigger bot swerved out of the way, conjuring a burst of sparks and a harsh scraping sound as a line of metal was carved out of DG.

“YES!” I screamed without thinking. I pivoted my Poly, letting the blade slice across the front of DG while unleashing a massive burst of fire from my dual flamethrowers. I missed the drills, but carved another scar across DG’s beautiful, perfect face. “HA! SUCK IT!”

“HAPPILY!” Faith screamed back at me.

I balked. She didn’t used to chirp back. This was all gonna take a lot of getting used to.

“Keep it together, Faithy,” Zeke said.

Faithy? What was that- a pet name? Were they dating? Was she taken?

“CAN’T TAKE THE HEAT, HUH, GIRLY?!” I said, the ugliest smile possible no doubt sprouting on my face like unwanted back hair (aka, back hair).

I poured on the fire, while DG backtracked and revved up the drills. I was on them like a bulldog with my fangs sunk in, loosing fire and charging with my katana, but DG kept just out of range of my melee weapon.

I pivoted left around the kill-saws as they plunged up out of the ground, spinning, serrated wheels erupting from slits in the floor, while DG backed directly into them and took a massive buffeting and nearly flipped over. “HA!”

“I swear to God, Calloway, I am gonna make you eat your words!” Faith shouted, her voice dropping to a lower octave that caught me off guard.

Just long enough for the drills to start running at full speed and for DG to charge straight at me. I charged back, screaming as loud as I possibly could.

Sword met drill.

Sword won.

The drill shattered and fell apart after getting hit by the sword. I pushed forward, and this time it was me penetrating her.

Unfortunately, Zeke pushed further forward while Faith fired up the remaining rotating drills, and suddenly we’d both penetrated each other.

“OH LOOK AT THAT, DEREK! WE’VE GOT A MURDER-SUICIDE GOING ON HERE! BOTH TEAMS HAVE STABBED THE CRAP OUT OF EACH OTHER AND ARE NOT LETTING UP!” Marty said.

“Murder-suicide my ass!” I said, laying on more fire and back up. I wriggled free of DG’s hold, then circled around and charged from the side. My katana plunged into the left hand side of DG and pinned it against the wall just under the horizontal hammer as it started whacking from above. It slammed onto DG as I backed out of the way.

Back up, back up, get some distance, then go for one final charge. Deliver the killing blow, gloat in front of the camera like crazy. “YEAH, THAT’S RIGHT! I’m coming for your crown! I’ll steal it right off your freaking head!”

That was when the kill saws erupted from the ground and took out both my tires on the right hand side of Poly. The rubber around the wheels was eviscerated, and the wheels themselves weren’t in much better shape.

I gasped. I hit my wheels’ controls, rounding myself out of the way of another blow from the saws, but DG was already charging at me by that point. I went in circles once again, narrowly avoiding the drills while spewing more and more fire.

And then I stopped moving.

I blinked. Then I noticed one of my remaining wheel axes caught in the gap in the ground that the kill-saw was supposed to emerge from.

I spun, and I spun, and I spun.

“LOOK AT THAT, MARTY!POLYPHEMUSIS STUCK! That insane mobility that Keith Calloway boasts about has worked against it! OH, ANDDAI GURRENgoing in for the killing blow!” Derek said.

DG rammed into me with its remaining drills and punctured the side of Poly and sent gasoline pouring out onto the arena floor. The drills struck through the canister and against metal, and the spark caused my bot to go up in flames.

DG pulled back out of the way. When the flames cleared, I was back down to a charred husk of a bot sitting immobile on the arena floor.

I swore. Loudly. I’m not proud of it. The editors would no doubt bleep it. But still. Not a great look when you’ve just gotten beat up by a girl.

Why do I say things?I thought.

Then I looked over at the blue square and saw Faith and Zeke doing a freaking waltz! Are you kidding me!? They had a victory dance now! They dressed like they were going to a party and they danced together to celebrate!?

Dammit! That looked so fun. That was definitely green- I could feel the tinge of jealousy in my mind. I groaned as I slunk away and put the remains of my bot onto a chassis, then slowly hauled it back to the pit while the winners got their interview.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Hello, lovelies! Just a reminder that you can support my work by becoming a paid subscriber to my Substack:

https://helenaheissner.substack.com/

Or by purchasing my ebooks here:

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https://helena-heissner.itch.io/magical-girl-exorcist-squad

***

Zeke

I couldn’t stop adjusting my hat. The hat was too much. It was already really hot in this tuxedo, and yeah, the hat brought the look together, but it was too much. My head was too small for it. My brain too, probably. Lol.

I took off the hat while Derek (who’s workout regiment I really needed to inquire about, the man was RIPPED) put the microphone in front of my face.

“So, last year’s champs, you must be feeling pretty good right now?” Derek said.

“Oh, I’m feeling just fine,” I said. “How about you, Faithy?”

Faith stood next to me, swaying back and forth with her hands on her hips. She was actually smiling now- damn, she had a pretty smile. I kept those sorts of comments to myself, mind you, but still. Damn. It was nice that she was smiling now. “I’m feeling pretty good too! We showed that clown who’s boss!”

That was when I died inside just a little bit. Oh goddammit, here we go.

“You’re certainly enjoying your second consecutive victory over Polyphemus , I see,” Derek said.

“Oh heck yeah, someone needs to put that loudmouth in his place!” Faith smirked.

I winced. “But hey, we got lucky in that match, let’s be honest.”

“Nah, luck had nothing to do with it,” Faith steamrolled me. Goddammit, Faith. Less!

“Bold words,” Derek said. “You gonna have that kind of confidence going into the rest of the season? As defending champs, everyone is going to be looking to get one over on you to prove themselves.”

“One fight at a time-that’s my motto,” I said.

“Couldn’t agree more,” Faith said, looking at me with… A very strange expression in her eyes. Happiness? Respect? Admiration? Hard to say. I’d gotten a lot better at reading her face over the years, but sometimes she was still pretty inscrutable. Still, she was a lot more expressive in general the past year, and that definitely helped.

“Well, good fight, both of you, we’re all looking forward to seeing the next one!” Derek said.

“Thank you!” we both said at once. I chuckled- it was funny how much we did that nowadays.

I stepped away from the crowd, Faith clinging to my side as we stepped into the pit. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a sharp white glow over the cement floor and white walls as various fighters tinkered with their bots- Team Forest Fire , comprised of former fire-fighers, with their ax-wielding pulverizing bot; Team Ultimate Frisbee , a full-body circular spinner atop a stationary set of wheels manned by a squadron of college kids from MIT; Team Jolly Roger , who’s bot looked like a pirate ship. They were new- I honestly had no idea what their weapon was supposed to be. I just knew they were an all-female team comprised of US Navy veterans. I tried not to gawk at the buff women in sailor suits, and I laughed when I noticed Faith completely failing not to gawk herself.

And of course, Nate Haverfield was there sneering at us as he readied Ansible for his fight against Sawmill later that night. Please don’t say anything, guy, just please don’t-

“Loved the catfight,” he said. “Two ‘girls’ going up against each other. Great stuff. Real hot.”

He didn’t literally do air-quotes around ‘girls’. But you could hear it in his voice, snark and contempt dripping off like wet paint.

Faith lowered her head and ignored him. She kept it lowered until he left, at which point she raised it, and I saw her makeup running as she cried.

I went in for the hug, and she buried her face in my chest.

When she finally let go, she said, “I’m gonna load up the car. Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Just lemme stop by the bathroom. After that, we can hit up the bar?”

“Sounds good,” she said with a weak smile.

I smiled back. God, she was cute. I tried to avoid thinking of her like that- we lived and worked together, and besides, I’m pretty sure she wasn’t into guys. But still- ten months on hormones had been very good to her, and she was already pretty adorable with the way she did little dances when she got excited about things and clung to the people around her when she got nervous or laughed her ass off when she felt confident. And yeah, the fact that she had a noticeable bust and wider hips and long hair now certainly helped. The fact that she spent a half hour making her makeup perfect before she left the apartment helped too- her face was already pretty, but the before and after image she showed me made me finally realize how much time girls actually spent making themselves look perfect. It was kind of awesome- like perfecting a build, tinkering with it and trying new things until you found the exact right combination of tools for maximum advantage. It was her idea to go with the whole ‘dress like we’re going to a New Years’ Eve party’ gimmick, and given how well it had gone over, it proved yet again she was the smarter of the two of us. Not that that took much- I somehow managed not to realize she was trans until she actually told me.

I still replayed the night she came out to me, the night we won our first championship, over and over again in my head. Olivia walked out on us immediately, and Faith had collapsed into my chest sobbing her eyes out. I held her for a while, and I think it was then that it clicked in my brain how much I cared about her. How much I…

How much I…

Bad brain, bad, I thought. Stahp it!

I shuffled through the gyrating crowd of contestants, amazed that this was my life. For a guy who’d gotten into a third-rate engineering program on an academic scholarship, I’d done okay for myself. Not amazing, but okay- I liked my job a lot more than most twenty-three year olds did, and that was worth a lot to me. The smell of oil and grease and the sounds of sawing and burning and welding- music to my ears. I whistled a Gorillaz song as I ambled towards the beige door at the end of the hall. The pad over the knob read ‘vacant’, so naturally, I turned the handle, not expecting to find anyone on the other side.

Like, c’mon. People know to lock the door when they use a public restroom. It’s common sense, right?

Well apparently that ain’t so common.

I opened the door and found Keith Calloway on the other side. With his pants down. And a pair of lacy, frilly panties over his… Swimsuit area. A pair so girly it would put Faith’s incredibly girly undies (yes, I took her underwear shopping after she hatched, what of it?) to shame.

I stood there a moment, jaw dropped, the only thing going through my head being, ‘huh. Calloway too? Small world.’

Vines of panic were wrapped around Calloway’s face, his… Her? Unclear. Their mouth was wide open, eyes bulging, lips trembling, hands shaking. They were too stunned to do or say anything, so I decided to do the safe thing and close the damned door.

“Good match tonight,” I said, bidding Calloway adieu through the closed door.

I walked away as I heard them scream, “Wait a second!” through the door.

God, Calloway was loud. And obnoxious. And hard to get a read on. It was truly a small world after all if they turned out to be an egg.

The door burst open and Calloway, pants back on, thank goodness, came bolting after me. Let’s see here, this was a human being with, as far as I could tell, very little self-awareness and a severe deficit of volume control. Having this conversation, whatever it might be, in the literal echo chamber of the pit was probably a bad plan. So instead, I motioned for Calloway to follow me out the side exit, the one that led to a different parking lot then the one Faith was waiting for me in, and together we braved the night.

The side parking lot was largely empty save for a handful of vans, all unoccupied. The front and back parking lots were much more populated, always had been, so this was a safe bet. I banked left and walked a few more feet until I leaned against the side of the building, feeling the pulsing roar of the crowd through the concrete. I put my hands in my pocket and waited for Calloway to catch up.

The look of panic hadn’t subsided from their face as they breathed deeply. Sheesh, they were out of shape. Looked like they’d lost weight, too- I hope they were getting enough sleep, though judging by the bags under their eyes that didn’t seem likely.

“Why hello there,” I said.

“General Ken- no, no, no,” Calloway said. “None of that. We need to talk.”

“Evidently, yes,” I said.

“You didn’t see anything,” Calloway said.

“Okay,” I shrugged. Seemed like a perfectly reasonable request- clearly, Calloway was dealing with some gender stuff. If Faith was anything to go by, that sh*t really messed with your head until you finally figured out what you wanted to present as. If Calloway wanted me to pretend not to know about this particular internal struggle while they sorted out their identity, I was completely happy to accommodate them.

“I mean it!” Calloway said, pointing a finger at me and glaring. “You. Saw. Nothing!”

“Okay,” I repeated, nodding severely.

“Nothing!”

“I concur,” I said, my voice dipping into monotone. Sheesh, Calloway, I’m agreeing with you for crying out loud.

“I’m not in the mood for sarcasm, Underhill!” Calloway said.

“I’m not being sarcastic,” I said, exhaling, trying not to let the frustration seep into my voice or face. Good Lord, this one was deep in the ‘angry and confused’ phase of hatching. Faith had been like that our junior year of college. “What I saw- which was nothing at all- stays between us. It’s none of my business.”

Finally, Calloway lowered their finger. Their face softened into one of fearful sorrow rather than hyperactive anger. They bowed their head and exhaled loudly and longly. “I just… I can’t let it get out that I’m a pervert, okay? My life would be ruined.”

I squinted. Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy oh… Oh girl, probably. Probably. That was for Calloway to decide. Still… I had to say something. I couldn’t let them go on thinking they were some kind of freak. “You’re not a pervert.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Calloway, I have called you many names, several of them in this exact parking lot, but pervert is not and will not be one of them,” I said. “You’re just… You.”

“Yeah. A freak.”

“Oh for- don’t do that,” I said. “When you call yourself that, you’re calling people like you that, too. Like Faith. So don’t. Don’t insult yourself, and definitely don’t insult my best friend. Got it?”

They looked up, and for a moment, there was a glimmer of joy and hope twinkling in their eyes. Then it died, like it had been smothered by a fire extinguisher. “No, no you don’t understand. I’m not… I’m not trans. I wish I was, but I’m not- I’m just… A deviant. I like to wear women’s underwear because I have a fetish. Trust me, you have no idea how much I wish I was normal like Faith, but I’m just… A pervert.”

I squinted again, and drew a deep, long breath. Oh God. They… She, let’s be real here, this is most likely a girl we’re dealing with right now… Had what Faith called the Brain Worms.

Near the end of our junior year at our crappy little college, I walked into our apartment one day to find Faith wearing a dress. And the half-stuttered speech she’d given me had born a striking resemblance to the tortured monologue Calloway had just offered. And at the time, I believed her, because I’d never really known a trans person erstwhile and had no frame of reference.

Obviously, we’d both been full of it.

And now…

Everything old is new again.

“I don’t believe you,” I said, finally.

“You… You don’t… I’m sorry, what?” Calloway said, tilting her head to the side. “You don’t believe that I’m not trans?”

Correct , I thought. “I don’t believe that you’re a pervert. So you like a little lace down below- why’s that so evil, exactly?”

“I… I… It just is, okay!”

“So, any guy who’s ever tried on his girlfriend’s panties out of curiosity is a pervert?” I said.

“Yes!”

“Wow. That’s a really douchey thing to say,” I said. The internalized transphobia Brain Worms, as Faith had explained to me over the summer, were potent with this one.

“I’m not a douchebag!” she protested. “I’m not, I just play one for the camera.”

“Yes,” I said. “Right. Obviously.” You definitely have a solid grasp on your self-identity. Totally. One hundred and ten percent. “So, in this schema of yours, an article of clothing is all that it takes to get one labeled ‘pervert.’ Do I have that right?”

“I- I….”

“Have you ever considered that maybe you haven’t figured yourself out yet completely. Or the world?” I asked.

“W… What do you mean?”

I sighed. There was another rule Faith had told me about, called the Prime DirEggtive: we cannot interfere with the development of young eggs. I’ll be honest, I struggled with the concept, but Faith knew better than me on these things. “I can’t tell you that. Only you can decide what it means. What… This all means for you,” I gestured up and down at her. “Can I just ask you one question?”

She gulped, looked back at the ground again, and nodded vigorously.

“Do you ever wear anything else?” I asked. “Besides the undergarments.”

She shook her head, not making eye contact.

I opened my mouth, and after ten seconds of consideration, I said, “Maybe you should try it. Just to see if you like it. Either way, though, no matter what conclusion you walk away with, I do not think you are a pervert. And you shouldn’t think of yourself as one.”

She looked up, looked into my eyes, so damn hopeful, then darted away without saying anything, arms dangling limply at her sides as she ran. It was… Kind of adorable? Huh. Never thought I’d think that about Calloway.

I stood there a while, staring at a flicking streetlamp while I waited for an appropriate amount of time to pass. I still had to go to the bathroom, but I decided not to risk running into Calloway again that evening.

I looped around to the back parking lot, and found Faith leaning against the back of our red, white, and blue van, the Star-Rocket Racer, playing some mobile game on her phone. “Hey,” she said without looking up. “What took you so long?”

“There was a line for the bathroom,” I said, walking towards the driver’s side door. “Eventually I just said ‘f*ck it.’ I’ll use the bathroom at the bar. Let’s get out of here.”

“Sounds good,” she said, leaping onto me and hugging me before I could open the door.

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Chapter Text

Hello, lovelies! Welcome to the next chapter of my silly little romance story! The next MGES is taking a little longer than expected, so I’m uploading “Love During Robot Fighting Time” today! Hope you enjoy!

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Keith

I didn’t listen to anime theme songs on my drive home, like I normally did. I just gripped the steering wheel as tightly as I possibly could and focused on the road. LA traffic is a rampaging beast most of the time, but it was late at night and there were shockingly few people on the road.

The words, his words, dangerous words, echoed in my head. Because the truth was… The truth was that I had considered wearing more than just undergarments. It was sick, I was sick- I had no right to claim that I was trans, but I wanted…

I wanted to be.

There was a sundress in my parent’s shop, hanging on a mannequin in the front window. It had straps for shoulders and was white and blue with a checkered pattern and a long skirt. Mom made it herself, with taller women, such as herself, in mind. Mom stood at five foot eleven, Dad at six foot flat, and I was an inch shorter than Mom at five foot ten. Maybe…

Maybe…

I got home and parked in the back, dragging my battered bot into the garage. Mom and Dad had cleared out a work space for me in there, partitioned via a white curtain down the middle of the thing. The cement slab would be there later. So would Polyphemus- I had a four-hour morning shift at the store tomorrow, then a meeting with my sponsor, and then I could get to work.

For now though…

For now…

I ambled into the shop, where Mom and Dad were closing up. The store was a simple one-story affair with swimsuits and sunhats and a generous helping of dresses (all hand-sewn by my Mom). “Hey, kiddo!” Mom said. She was in her late forties, and had taken to dying her naturally brown hair platinum blonde once the gray had begun to occupy the majority of it. She was slender and tall and had a warm air to her as always as she swept up the floor. Dad was counting the money, his big, bulky frame always looking a bit awkward behind the counter, his body hair spilling out of his shirt.

“Hey,” I said absently as I walked up under the warm lights that illuminated the shop. I barely looked at them as I walked up to the dress. I stood in front of it and stared without blinking.

“How’d the match go?” Dad asked. “Sorry we couldn’t watch it on the tube- we got a huge rush tonight.”

“Hm,” I said.

“How did you do?” Mom asked.

“I lost,” I said. I still wasn’t blinking.

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” Dad said.

“Hm,” I repeated.

“Everything alright?” Dad asked.

I didn’t say anything. I was too wrapped up in how the dress might feel around me. What is wrong with me- I’d be an embarrassment to trans people if I put that on, a faker who dragged down a whole marginalized community.

But it was so damn pretty and I just…

God, I wanted to wear it. I’d wanted to for a while.

Footsteps approached me from behind. “See something you like?” Mom asked.

I blinked, finally. Tears fell out- when did those get there? I hadn’t cried in over a decade. Why now?

“Do you…,” Mom started, “Do you wanna try that dress on?”

I gulped. I didn’t want to want to- I wanted to be normal. I wanted to be happy being who I was. I didn’t want to…

I turned around, and I nodded. Mom looked at me with a gentle smile and ruffled my hair, while Dad gave me a stoic yet supportive thumbs’ up.

“I have a fresh body razor in my bathroom, along with a full can of shaving cream,” Mom said. “Why don’t you hop in the shower, clean up your legs and your chest, and I’ll bring the dress upstairs to you.”

“Y… You’re okay with this?” I asked.

“We… Uh,” Mom started.

“We had our suspicions,” Dad said simply.

I had a million questions, concerns, fears… But right then I didn’t care.

I just nodded. “I’m not trans.”

“Oh?” Mom said.

“I’m not,” I insisted.

“I never said you were,” Mom said.

“Neither did I,” Dad said.

“I’m just… Just a pervert. You’re okay with your son being a pervert?”

“You’re not a damn pervert,” Dad said, in that plain, straightforward Dad way seemingly any Dad worth his salt knows how to flip on like a switch. “You’re just you. Be who you want. If that’s someone who wants to wear that dress, put it on.”

I gulped again, and went upstairs.

It took A WHILE to shave my legs. My chest wasn’t much easier, but it was at least more straightforward. After that I climbed out of the shower and wrapped my shaggy brown hair in a towel. I went into my room and found the dress splayed out on my bed. My hands were shaking as I pulled it over myself and wiggled into it.

And that was that. I was wearing a dress. I was even wearing a bra and panties under it. It felt… Amazing. It was light and airy, gave my skin room to breathe, tickled my now bare legs delightfully. I turned around, the skirt twirled with me. My eyes went wide as a warm, blissful sensation flowed through me, and I did another twirl. The skirt spun around, and the warmth tripled, quadrupled.

I heard a knock on the door, and yelped.

“May I come in?” Mom asked.

My eyes bulged, and my hands trembled once more, and the warmth was replaced by a terrified cold. But… But… If Mom put this here, if she and Dad didn’t see anything wrong with me doing this… Maybe… Maybe it was okay. It didn’t have to leave the house, nobody had to know that I was stealing trans culture.

“Yes,” I said.

The door opened, and Mom’s jaw dropped. She stood there in the doorway, silently gaping.

“That bad, huh,” I said, looking at the floor.

“No, actually, just the opposite,” Mom said. “You look beautiful.”

The tears came back, and so did the warmth and joy and the tingling in my stomach. She was lying, taking pity on me, had to be, but… Even if she was… Even if I wasn’t really beautiful, I…

I felt beautiful.

This wasn’t right- it wasn’t supposed to- and besides, I had a… A… I was standing at attention, had it tucked away- that was the only thing keeping this illusion from shattering. This couldn’t be right… I couldn’t be… Wasn’t allowed to be…

Could I be?

“Mom?” I asked.

“Yes, hon?” Mom asked.

“If I’d been born a girl… What would you have named me?” I asked. My heart was a snare drum rapidly beating in an empty cavern, echoing and pulsating through every fiber of my being. I was breaking apart, cracking and tearing.

Mom looked at me, and slowly stepped forward, and put both hands on my shoulders while smiling gingerly. “Katherine. Kate. With a K.”

“Keeping it on brand, huh?” I said, absentmindedly tucking an errant lock of damp brown hair behind my ear.

“Very much so,” Mom said. “Do you want me to call you that?”

I froze, the words stuck in my throat, threatening to cut off my air supply. This was bad- if they found out I was just pretending… Was I just pretending? If I was just pretending, I’m not sure I’d have let it go this far. If I was just pretending… Why did this feel so good? So right. Why did I want to be called Kate, why did the name guide me forward like a lighthouse bringing a storm-battered, sea-weathered ship into a safe harbor? “I do want that,” I finally said, staring intently at a nondescript spot on the wall over my Mom’s shoulder. “I know I shouldn’t, but-”

“Why shouldn’t you?” Mom said.

“B-because I’m not trans!” I said.

“Why not?”

“Because… I… I’m just a perv, I get… I get…”

“Okay, lemme stop you right there,” Mom said, walking over to my bed and sitting down, patting the mattress and gesturing me over. I obliged, and she continued, “I’ve been reading up on this stuff, and if you’re referring to what I think you’re referring to, that’s not uncommon as a reaction to gender euphoria.”

I blinked rapidly. “What’s gender euphoria?”

Mom pursed her lips and exhaled a low, sharp sigh. “Tell you what- I’m gonna send you all the articles and blog posts your father and I have been reading for the past year-”

“Past year?!” I blanched.

“Yes, dear. We found your underwear,” Mom said.

“You went through my drawers?”

“No, sweetie, you just left them on your bed one day- it was after one of those all-nighters in the garage that you pulled last year. Your brain must have been fried from sleep deprivation,” Mom said.

“Oh,” I said.

“Yeah. So I’m going to text those to you, and you’re going to read them while I do your hair,” Mom said. “How does that sound?”

She… She knew. Dad knew, too. And they had for a while. And they thought I was… I really hadn’t expected this. My parents had always been pretty open-minded, pretty progressive on most social issues, and they lived in Venice Beach, so that probably helped, but this was… Astonishing? Impressive? Miraculous?

Yes. Yes, to all.

A shameful plume of acrid smoke went through me as I realized something- either I wasn’t trans, but was so convincing that my parents bought it; or, I was trans, and I had the best parents in the entire world.

Either way… That was a pretty lucky arrangement. And nothing had to go outside of this house. Nothing had to leave this store. If this was just a one-time thing, then… It could very easily be made into nothing more than a well-guarded family secret.

I nodded. Mom led me to her bathroom and sat me on a stool in front of the vanity mirror while she began running a brush through my hair while blow-drying it. I pulled up my phone, and found the first article in my messages.

‘How Do You Know You’re A Trans Woman?’

I gulped, my finger hovering over the link for a full thirty seconds before I finally clicked it between heartbeats

The first line was, ‘If you’re asking that question, you’re probably trans.’

Dammit.

The warm fluttering feeling went through me again, and I tried to smother it as I kept reading.

‘Ultimately, only you can answer the question of whether or not you’re trans. BUT, in general, cis people don’t really ask that question.’

I gulped again. Dammit.

‘Now you may be thinking- ‘I’m not trans, I just have a fetish.’ And hey, it’s possible you do… But the majority of people who have said that eventually realized that they’re trans. The idea that being trans is just a fetishization of femininity is rooted in gender essentialist propaganda and should be ignored- including if you’ve had a physical reaction to wearing women’s clothes at some point. Ask yourself two questions: first, if you could wave a magic wand and give yourself the body of a cis woman right now, would you?’

Yes, the thought instantly shot through my mind, a rifle round of revelation that ripped apart most of the barriers around my mind.

‘Second, do you think you would be happier if you were a girl? If you got to live as one, dress as one, act like one, be perceived as one?’

A series of images exploded in my mind: waking up early in the morning and shaving my legs in the shower, doing my hair and makeup and putting on a cute outfit- a pink sundress, a pencil skirt and a blouse, a pair of skinny jeans and a crop-top- of going out into the world, people smiling and waving at me, talking to girls about our hair and makeup, flirting with girls as a girl. Pink. So much pink. All of the pink.

‘If you answered yes to either or both of these questions, then you might very well be trans. Wishing you’re a girl is the same thing as being a girl, because men don’t wish they were girls.’

I looked up from my phone and into the mirror, where Mom was applying a curling-iron to my hair and giving me lovely ringlets that framed my face in a way that made me look… Look… Like a girl. And I was happy with that. Joy rang through me as I looked into the mirror and saw a girl, as I realized that I WANTED to look like a girl, that nothing would make me happier than if-

“You look beautiful, Kate,” Mom said.

Tears burst from eyes and ran down my face, and my lips trembled. The name… That name… It felt so… So… Me!

“I second that,” Dad said, standing in the doorway, sipping a Barrel House Z beer. “Just so we’re clear: your mother and I have talked about this, and we support you no matter what. Whatever you decide, whoever you want to be, we love you. That includes if you’re our daughter, Kate.”

The tears flowed freely, and Mom handed me a clean, dry washcloth to sop up the water.

Eventually, I stopped crying, and I opened the next article, while Mom kept adding to my garden of bouncy curls. When it was done…

When she was done…

When I was done…

I felt like me. And I felt beautiful. It was a new feeling, but I could get used to it.

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

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***

Faith

11 Months Earlier

“AND TEAM DAI GUREN IS NOW THE WORLD CHAMPIONS! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?! THE FIRST-YEAR UNDERDOGS FROM LOYOLA MARYMOUNT HAVE TAKEN THE CROWN!!!” Marty screamed. The noise was a lot to process, but just this once I could manage. We were the champions, dammit! This was everything I’d dreamed of. And I had my best friend at my side and the woman I loved just as close.

The crowd ebbed and flowed around me as I guided myDai Gurenaway on the wagon. I couldn’t keep the big, stupid smile off my face, especially as I watched Calloway skulk away to the opposing exit with his tail between his legs and his eyes glued to the floor. Suck it, asshole! This will teach you not to call me a puss*.

The jerk had been a thorn in my side all season, constantly starting sh*t when the cameras were rolling, then acting like we were old chums the second they were off. It was such an obvious, obnoxious, odious ploy for attention that it made my stomach churn.

Whatever, that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was that I’d just achieved one of my biggest dreams in life at the tender age of twenty-two. Yeah, I’d have to defend that crown every time I entered this tournament, ideally for the rest of my life. But for tonight, all I had to do was celebrate.

Well, not exactly. There was one other thing I promised myself I would do if I won. Probably because I didn’t think I could win, and then I’d just get to keep putting it off every year until I died. But instead, the impossible had happened.

And now one more impossible thing had to happen.

I remembered the first time I tried on my mom’s clothes. She was a tiny woman, and I’d been lucky enough to take after her in the looks department. She had this beautiful purple gown in her closet, and one night, she and dad had both been at a dinner party and she’d very conveniently worn something else. I’d spent an hour staring at it, until finally, I caved and put it on and suddenly felt like the world wasn’t such an actively terrible place devoid of light or hope or joy.

So, I did the normal thing at that point: I googled ‘why do I like wearing women’s clothes.’

The resulting rabbit hole had led me to a dangerous and potentially life-altering realization that I then spent the rest of high school desperately trying to ignore. Trying to fight. I did everything I thought I was supposed to: focused on my homework, on my studies, getting into college; got a girlfriend, focused on the handful of stereotypically male interests I’d had.

But the feeling, the yearning, never went away. It kept calling to me, no matter how hard I tried to fight it. So I made myself a deal: if I could win this tournament, I’d come out, starting with the two people I trusted above all others: my best girl and my best friend.

Zeke and Olivia both walked ahead of me. I had no idea how either of them would take this, but I hoped they would take it well.

We cleaned up and headed for the parking lot, and as I stood in the doorway leading out into the warm night air, I said, “Wait. Guys, wait. I have to tell you something.”

Olivia turned around first, looking nervous, while Zeke simply looked happy.

“What’s up, Frankie?” Zeke said. The name pricked at me, short jolts of pain to my stomach and chest. Deep breath, girl, just need to say what you’ve been thinking of saying for over a year.

“Yeah, what’s going on?” Olivia said. “Do you not wanna do that celebratory pub crawl we’d been talking about?”

“No, no, I do,” I said, my heart beating at a million miles per second, my hands trembling, eye contact becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. “It’s just… There’s something I promised myself I would do if we won.”

“Okay?” Olivia said.

“Whatever it is, we’re here for you,” Zeke said with his big, friendly smile.

“Yeah, right,” Olivia said in a dull, flat tone that did little to inspire confidence.

Now or never. Had to do it. It was like a massive weight on my chest I had to get rid of, or it would suffocate me, right there and then. “I’m trans.”

“... W-what?” Olivia said.

“I’m a girl,” I said. “I’m a trans girl.”

“Huh,” Zeke said. “Neat.”

“Neat?” I said, finally looking up, devastated by the look I saw on Olivia’s face but relieved by the one on Zeke’s.

“Neat?!” Olivia spat.

“Yeah,” Zeke said with a smile and shrug. “My friend is a girl, but she’s still myfriend.” Then he looked at me. “Is ‘she’ okay? Pronoun-wise, I mean?”

I gulped, smiled, and nodded rapidly.

Olivia’s eyes darted back and forth rapidly between Zeke and I. “I have a… You’re a… No. Okay, no, just no- I can’t do this.”

That was the moment my fragile little heart broke in half. “Liv… What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you either drop this nonsense or I walk,” Olivia said.

“Olivia, you’re being irrational,” Zeke said.

“I’m being- I’M being irrational,” Olivia said, running her hands through her hair. “My boyfriend thinks he’s a girl and he chooses tonight of all nights, when we’re supposed to be celebrating, to tell me this? How could you do this to me, Frank?!”

I broke off eye contact again and stammered, “I-I-I-”

“Olivia, this isn’t about you,” Zeke said.

“Of course it’s not,” Olivia rolled her eyes. “Nothing ever is. It’s always about FRANK and what HE wants and what HE needs- you know what? Screw this. We’re done.”

“Olivia,” I said, stepping forward, tears in my eyes, “Please don’t do this-”

“You should have thought of that before YOU destroyed our relationship,” Olivia spat. “But you never think of anyone but yourself. Have a nice life, FRANK.”

I stood there in the doorway as I watched her walk away, vanishing into the night. I don’t remember how long I stood there, I just remember not really feeling or seeing much of anything until Calloway was right in front of my face. And I was REALLY not in the mood to deal with his sh*t there and then.

***

NOW

I sat in a basem*nt bar in North Hollywood, loud music blaring and overhead lights humming and all manner of conversations blending together amidst all the noise. I sipped my cosmopolitan gingerly, pleased by the lipstick stain I left on the rim of the glass- that was my favorite part of wearing lipstick, like I was leaving little kisses on things that I loved. And if I was lucky, by the end of tonight, that would include the tall, dapper gentleman sitting next to me nursing an absinthe.

Though considering how he had his head resting on his hand, his elbow pressing into the table, his brow creased and his eyes narrow, I wasn’t sure tonight would be the night that happened.

“Penny for your thoughts?” I said, leaning forward, trying to emphasize my cleavage. It wasn’t MUCH cleavage, but it was mine after almost a year on estrogen and t-blockers, and I was proud of it.

“Oh, just… Thinking about Calloway,” Zeke said, then took a sip of his drink. He winced as it entered his mouth- I would never understand his love of hard liquor, considering how his face scrunched up when he drank it.

I co*cked an eyebrow (heh. co*ck.) “Why? We kicked his ass!”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Zeke said. “We got lucky. If Calloway hadn’t tripped up at just the right time, we would have been dead.”

“Horsesh*t,” I said, waving my hand and taking another sip of my cosmo, the warm buzz of the alcohol hitting me gradually with the sweet, sugary flavor.

“Okay, Faith, you know I love your confidence, but that’s taking it a little far,” Zeke said. “Calloway redesignedPolyphemusto fight us specifically- we were getting asses beat before the bit at the end. And honestly, ‘flaming katana’ is a pretty unique design that most of the league is not suited to squaring off against. If we face Calloway again, we might not be able to pull a victory out our asses twice.”

I scoffed. “We’ve already beaten him twice.”

“A third time, then,” Zeke said.

I sighed. He was probably right- Calloway’s design was smart. That’s what made it extra satisfying to watch that co*cky (heh) grin of his evaporate when we won again tonight. But there were a ton of variables at play inside the battle-box. Next time the dice might not land in our favor. “Okay, fine, you’re right, you’re brilliant, you’re handsome-”

“I’m handsome?” Zeke said with a surprised- and adorably flustered- look.

“Yes,” I winked.

He gulped.

Maybe tonight would be the night.

“That said, we won our opening fight tonight, and we should be celebrating, not strategizing. The next fight isn’t till next week, and neither of us have anywhere to be tomorrow. Let’s just knock back a few drinks and have a good time, yeah?”

“One of us has to drive, though,” Zeke pointed out.

“Soadrink, one for each of us, and then we go home and get plastered there,” I said.

He creased his brow again, like he was considering something, but then he shrugged and knocked back the rest of his absinthe. “You’re driving,” he groaned.

“Pfffttt, you jerk,” I said, taking another sip of mine.

“But I’m a brilliant, handsome jerk, so that makes it okay,” he said with a grin.

“Yes, you’re absolutely blessed,” I said with my own grin.

His phone then rang, loud and clear in spite of the noise. He pulled it from his breast pocket and looked at it, then tapped it and started texting something intently.

“Who was it?” I asked.

“Nobody.”

“Nobody? Then who are you texting?”

“Also nobody.”

“This nobody must be terribly interesting,” I rolled my eyes. It was Olivia. It must have been Olivia. Who else could it possibly be-

As if on cue, my own phone buzzed inside my purse. I retrieved it, and found a notification from the tournament organizers. My heart broke apart again, and the pieces dissolved like salt into water. “Dammit.”

“What?”

“Our fight has been set for next week,” I said, tears welling up in my eyes.

“Oh, God, are we-”

“We’re fighting Oliva next week.”

He scooted his stool over to me and put his arm around me, and I sobbed into his chest for God-knew-how-long.

Chapter 5

Chapter Text

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read two chapters ahead on both this story and "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", as well as twenty chapters ahead on "A Dream of Summer Rain", by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

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Thank you so much for your continued support of my work! Every little bit helps me to keep going :)

And now, back to our regularly scheduled nerdy romcom shenanigans!

***

Keith

12 Months Earlier

“And that’s why you don’t mess with the future champ!” I screamed as I started doing a poorly choreographed victory dance. I’d just slayed a flipper called… Well,Flipper. It looked like a dolphin, and the bottlenose was used to… You get the idea. And it was piloted by these guys from San Diego who had been jeering at me the entirety of the match.

It was my first match in the pros. I was surprised to have won. But not nearly as surprised as everyone else clearly was. So I danced like the uncoordinated idiot that I was, no partners in sight so I had to be content with my own (not-so) sick moves.

Marty Weston pulled me aside into an interview. “So, Keith Calloway, how you feeling right now, kid?!”

“I’m feeling pretty great. I think I’ve provided everyone with a good demonstration of what’s gonna happen to them when they face me!” I said, the barely-earned confidence flooding out of my mouth with each screamed syllable.

“Bold words,” Marty said. “You think you’re gonna live up to them?”

I grabbed the mic out of his hands and grinned maniacally. “I think there’s a new sheriff in town, and you best believe he’s gunning for the crown!”

Everyone went wild, and it was at that point I decided this would make a good angle for a pro career.

Because I’m anidiot.

***

“So, Keith,” Eric said, and it felt like I’d been slapped. What the hell was happening to me?

“Yes,” I said, hurriedly putting my hands under my rear while I sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair.

Eric Gaines was the owner of Gaines Auto Body and Bodybuilding, south Los Angeles’ premier destination for car detailing and weightlifting. Eric was, quite simply put, a hulking specimen of testosterone. He looked like he didn’t have an ounce of fat anywhere on his body- just raw muscle as far as the eye could see. He’d been my sponsor the past year, and he’d been conciliatory when I’d lost the finals last year. The unspoken caveat was that I needed to turn it around next year.

And so far… I was letting him down.

His office was all white walls and hardwood floors with a dark brown finish, his desk made of pure glass. He sat on a workout ball, while his guests were made to sit in the most uncomfortable plastic chairs imaginable. Probably a business negotiation strategy- the man had a truly staggering number of books on the subject on shelves lining his walls. “Last night didn’t exactly go as planned.”

“No, sir, it didn’t.”

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“Um… I mean, I could tell you about how my loss was a fluke, but it would probably just sound like an excuse,” I said.

“You’re right, it would,” he said with a shockingly earnest smile. Was he being passive-aggressive? I could never tell.

“I’d like to say it won’t happen again-”

“But you can’t guarantee that, and that’s completely reasonable,” he said with a conciliatory shrug.

“Uh… Yeah,” I said.

“But you’ll do the best you can?”

“Yes! Absolutely.”

“That’s good. Because anything less than that… Any more of these ‘flukes’, and you and I might have to reconsider our arrangement,” Eric said. “Sponsoring a robot fighter like yourself is an eccentric rich man’s game, and I’m merely an eccentric middle class man running a small business. I have a bottom line. And a reputation. And given your… Antics, in the ring, if you keep losing, it might not be great for that reputation, or that bottom line. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes, sir!” I said.

“That’s good to hear, Keith,” he said.

Slap. Seriously, why did that keep happening today? Sure, taking off that dress last night had been one of the single most painful experiences of my life, but that didn’t MEAN anything. Definitely. Not one bit. Not even a tiny little sliver of anything.

“The money for this month should have already been deposited in your account,” Eric continued. “Anything else you need for the time being?”

“No, sir,” I said.

“Good. Let’s talk again next week.”

We shook hands, and I left and stepped out into the hot midsummer air of Culver City. That was one meeting down for today. That just left the second one… And probably the much more painful one.

I’d called Underhill last night, against my instincts. He’d texted back saying if I wanted to resume our conversation from last night, we could meet for lunch the next day.

We met at a retro diner in Inglewood with old movie posters all over the walls and fifties music playing on the speakers and waitresses wearing old timey dresses as uniforms. I’d been here before, and I’d probably been able to ignore it before, but the uniforms were… Really, really freaking cute! They were pink with white polka dots, and they had red aprons over the front. The women all wore their hair up, and I pictured myself with long hair, down past my shoulders, and in the process of putting it up, spending an hour each morning brushing it and applying product and arranging it and…

Oh boy.

Boy?

Right, that’s what I was. That’s all I’d ever be. I wasn’t really tr…

But I wasn’t exactly cis, now was I? Cis people don’t spend their downtime fantasizing about being the opposite gender.

So what was I? A girl? Non-binary? Gender fluid?

Did I even like being a boy?

I ordered a black coffee after being sat in a booth in the back corner of the oblong establishment, drumming my fingers on the table while staring into my drink.

“Hi,” Underhill’s voice called out as he approached. I looked up- he wore a black and gray flannel button-down and jeans, his hair messy but still framing his face well, his stubble somewhat grown in compared to last night. His eyes were… Big and friendly and inviting, and I…

No, no, bad!I chastised myself. “Hi.”

He sat down. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

I sipped my coffee, then exhaled deeply. “So. Before we go any further. I need you to promise me that this will remain confidential.”

“Sure thing. Scout’s honor,” he said, holding up the obligatory three fingers, smiling broadly with all his perfectly straight pearly whites.

“You were a Boy Scout?”

“Eagle Scout!” he said.

“Of course you were,” I muttered.

The waitress, a young black woman named Connie, came over and asked if we were ready to order, to which Underhill replied he just wanted a black coffee.

“A fellow black coffee drinker, I see,” I said. “A man of culture. Duly noted.”

He chuckled. “You’re stalling.”

I gave a much more nervous chuckle. “Yeah. I am.”

I pulled out my phone, and showed him a photo of me from last night. After Mom had gotten done doing my hair.

“Oh wow, look at you,” Underhill said with an approving smile. “You look pretty. Did you do your own makeup?”

I felt myself blush. “I’m not wearing makeup in that photo.”

“You’re not? Dang. Good for you.”

I chuckled again… Actually, no, that wasn’t quite accurate; I giggled. I freaking giggled- what the hell was wrong with me? “Thanks. My mom did my hair for me.”

“So she knows?”

“Both my parents do,” I said, stirring my coffee with a spoon. “They were… Completely supportive, and completely unsurprised.”

“So, you’re-”

“I don’t know,” I cut him off. “If you were about to say the ‘t word’ that is. I don’t know yet. But… There’s a chance that I am.”

Connie came back and asked if we wanted anything to eat. Simultaneously, Underhill and I both said, “A Denver omelet, side of hashed browns.”

Connie raised an eyebrow and smirked, then jotted it down on her pad. “Sounds good, kids.”

“A woman of culture,” Underhill smiled at me again, the kind of smile that you saw in dental commercials- seriously, killer smile.

A burst of warmth ran through me at being called a woman- Gender Euphoria? The articles certainly would have called it that. Was this… This couldn’t just be my immature ass getting off on tricking people into thinking I was trans. That would be ridiculous- no cis person would ever be happy with something like that.

“I try,” I said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I guess I just wanted to ask you- and I need you to be honest here- do you think I’m trans?”

He flinched. “Um… I’m not really sure it’s up to me whether or not you’re trans.”

“I know that, I know that, I just… My parents think I am, and I’m starting to think that maybe, MAYBE, I might be. What do you think?”

“I think that you shouldn’t be looking for someone else’s approval on this sort of thing.”

Dammit. That was a good point.

“But at the same time, if you’re hoping I’ll say yes and tell you you’re trans-”

I scrunched up my face again, closing my eyes and nodding in spite of myself.Ugh, what is wrong with me?!

I felt a hand covering mine. I opened my eyes to find Underhill squeezing it. “Look,” he said, “I’m not an expert. Yes, my best friend is a trans girl, and I’ve learned a lot about this stuff from her. All I can really tell you is what I think she would say- which does slightly beg the question of why you wanna talk to me about this and not Faith.”

“Because she hates me,” I monotoned.

He opened and closed his mouth, then nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good point- she does. SheREALLYdoes.”

“Not that I don’t deserve it,” I said from the corner of my mouth.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that-”

“I’m a total jerk whenever we’re both around each other.”

“Yeah, but you’re not when you’re out of the ring,” Underhill said. “You play the heel because our sport is populated mostly by weird nerds with questionable social skills- the audience likes a good douchebag. Yeah, you lay it on thick sometimes, but also Faith is terrible at reading social cues from people she doesn’t know super well.”

“Maybe I should dial it back,” I said. “That whole schtick was one thing when I was on a winning streak. Right now… That ain’t me.”

“Heh. Maybe,” Underhill said. “Backtracking, though: if Faith were here, and she didn’t hate you, I’m sure she would tell you that wanting to be a girl and being a girl are the same thing, but that only you can decide what you want.”

“That’s good advice,” I said, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in my chest. Connie came back with our orders, as well as a single chocolate milkshake with two straws. “We didn’t order that,” I said.

“Yeah, I put it in for you,” Connie said. “You two were being super cute, figured why not.”

“C-cute?!” I stammered. It was then that I looked down and realized Underhill’s hand was still covering mine. He seemed to realize the same thing, and slowly withdrew his hand, but still smiling that winning smile.

“I mean, hey, we’re both real good lookin’,” he said.

Connie gave him a thumbs-up as she walked away. I buried my face in my hands, the heat from my red cheeks burning my palms like a hot stove.

“You wound me,” Underhill said with a laugh.

“Why?”

“Embarrassed to be assumed as my date? She wounds my fragile male ego.”

I smiled in spite of myself. “Shut up- aren’t you embarrassed? People might think you’re gay!”

“So?” Underhill shrugged.

“So?!”

“So,” he said. “Not really a big deal to me. If it was the right guy, I could probably call myself hetero-flexible. And besides, you’re…”

“I’m…”

“A question mark,” he said.

“Damn you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Besides, you do realize we live in southern California, yes? This is arguably the most queer friendly place on the whole of God’s green earth.”

“You… You raise an excellent point,” I acquiesced. He really did- if this, whatever it was, was a part of me I wanted to explore, I did live in one of the better places to do that in. And if I wanted to wear a dress outside my home, even if it were just to go down to the market for groceries, it wouldn’t be THAT abnormal in Venice Beach.

He took a sip from the chocolate shake, and, on impulse, I went for a sip as well, our faces, our mouths very close together as we both sipped. It was his turn to blush, then, and I laughed in earnest and without embarrassment when he did.

“I thought you said you didn’t mind,” I needled him.

“Lol, just caught me by surprise,” Underhill said. “Bold move, that was.”

“I’m a bold girl,” I said, the words tripping out of my mouth before I could stop them. I’d just called myself a girl without even meaning to, and it felt… It felt amazing. It felt like a hot bubble bath after a long walk, like dry socks on a damp afternoon, like the warm and soft comfort of my bed after a long day.

Dammit.

“That you are, ma’am,” he said. There was that smile again.

Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit.

“You’re a good guy, Underhill,” I said.

“Thanks. But call me Zeke.”

“You’re a good guy, Zeke,” I said, then finally took a bite of my omelet. Delicious!

“Thanks. Also, there’s actually something I wanted to ask you,” Underhill… Zeke said.

“What’s that?” I said between bites.

“What got you into the robot fighting game, anyway?” he asked. “For me it was just a fun thing to do with my engineering program buddies- I never expected to actually go anywhere with it.”

“... It’s a little embarrassing.”

“Calloway, we’re professional science nerds.”

“Fair point,” I said. “I, uh, always wanted to build my own Gundam, ever since I was a little kid.”

“Ayyy, I love me some Gundam.”

“You do?”

“Hell yeah! Never get to talk about it though because Faith hates it.”

“What the- she hates Gundam? She’s a robot fighter, and she hates giant robot anime?”

“Obviously she doesn’t hate giant robot anime- look what our bot is named!”

“Touche,” I said.

“She’s strictly a super-robots girl,” Zeke said.

“Ahhh, I see, I see,” I said. “That makes sense. No disrespect, they certainly have their place, but I lean more towards real robots.”

“Fair and valid.”

“I actually have a bunch of Gundam on Blue Ray,” I said, leaning forward in my seat. I never got to talk about Gundam with anyone, much to my chagrin, though the whole ‘no life outside of work’ thing probably contributed to that. “You wanna watch it together sometime?”

“Sure!” he said. “When works for you?”

“I’m free tonight,” I said.

“Awesome!” he said. “Can’t wait.”

I smiled. “Me neither.”

Chapter 6

Chapter Text

Hello, lovelies! Don’t forget you can access 3 advance chapters of this story, plus 20 advance chapters of “A Dream of Summer Rain” and two advance chapters of “Magical Girl Exorcist Squad,” by becominga paid subscriber either on Substack or Patreon!

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You can also purchase the officialebooks for both ADSR and MGES here:

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https://helena-heissner.itch.io/magical-girl-exorcist-squad

***

Keith

I was halfway through my drive home before I realized that I had what could very easily be construed as a date that night. “OH, CRAP!” I screamed while stuck at a red light.

The car in front of me, a red convertible helmed by a gym bro with guns of steel, honked real loud when I did that. In the lane next to me, an old lady in a jeep gave me the finger and shouted, “we’re all gridlocked just the same as you, you little sh*t!”

I heaved a heavy sigh and drummed my fingers on the wheel until finally, blissfully, mercifully, the light changed and I got to continue my drive home.

My parents were finishing up a sale of a pair of swim trunks to a father and son duo when I marched in. “Hey, kiddo, what’s going on?” Mom asked.

“I messed up.”

“Is it a legal issue?” Dad asked, not looking up from the abacus he was crunching numbers with.

“Hm, no, a personal problem,” I said, drumming my fingers rapidly on the front desk.

“Are you on drugs?” Dad asked. “Because the course of operations depends highly on what drugs we’re talking about-”

“It’s not drugs, either,” I said.

“Is it a girl?” Mom said, raising both eyebrows and pressing her hands together.

“A boy, actually,” I said.

“Ooooohhhhh,” Mom said, smiling. “I see. Didn’t expect this one, but-”

“No, not like that,” I said hurriedly. “Well, kinda.”

“Kinda?” Mom asked.

“It’s not a date- it’s not supposed to be one, but I’m worried it might be!”

“Do you want it to be?” Mom said.

I hesitated, ran my top teeth over my lower lip. An image ran through my mind of me in that dress again, my hair done up and makeup on my face, and Underhill… Zeke at the door with a bundle of flowers in his hands, dressed in that tux he’d rocked yesterday, leaning in for a-

BAD! BAD BAD BAD! You don’t like boys! Bad brain!“... No,” I said, in a low, soft voice.

Mom and Dad side-eyed each other in a way even a moron like me could tell meant they didn’t believe it. Finally, Mom sighed lightly, and said, “Then it’s not a date.”

“It’s not?” I said, hoping they didn’t hear the note of disappointment I detected in my own voice.

“In my experience, it’s only a date if the girl says it is,” Dad said.

“But I’m not a…,” I started, before trailing off. I wasn’t sure how to finish.

“Your father is half right,” Mom said. “It’s only a date if both parties agree it is. You don’t want it to be a date, so it’s not a date. Does this boy want it to be a date?”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” I said. The disappointment rang clear as a bell that time. Did I want it to be a date? No, that’s ridiculous, I’m not gay.

Wait, no, that’s not… If I am a girl, then that would make me gay.

Okay, so it’s not a date because I’m a lesbian

Or, I would be a lesbian if I were a girl, which I’m still not one hundred percent sure that I am.

Right?

Mom turned to Dad and said, “Honey-bunch, could you mind the shop for a few minutes while I talk to our daughter upstairs?”

“No problem at all, sweetheart,” Dad said, going back to fiddling with his abacus.

The warm, fuzzy, rapturous rush of euphoria threatened to boil every last trace of boy out of my brain at the words ‘our daughter.’ They really thought of me as their… They… My own parents were convinced I was a girl. Zeke probably was as well. I was currently the biggest hold out at only like forty… Fifty… Seventy-five percent sure I was a girl.

Okay, let’s entertain the idea for a moment that I am a girl. As far as Zeke was concerned, he’d gotten brunch with a girl, who’d then asked her to hang out at her place later that night. Said girl was, in his parlance, pretty, and had a bunch of things in common with him. And they’d held hands and shared a milkshake already.

Crap!

Okay, the smart thing to do was to make it clear to him that this wasn’t a date. Guys hated being led on- I knew that much from experience- so the intelligent thing, and the moral thing, would be to tell him in no uncertain terms that we were only going to be friends who watched anime and got food together.

I was so caught up in my own thoughts I barely realized Mom had led me upstairs and was holding dresses in front of me. “Um, what are you doing?”

“Oh, just experimenting,” Mom said. “Let’s start at the beginning- what’s this boy’s name?”

“Zeke Underhill.”

“Zeke Under- wasn’t he one of those boys who beat you last year in the finals?”

“One of those people- he’s the only boy on the team,” I corrected her.

“Ah, of course,” Mom said. “You certainly have a history with him- what did you invite him to do with you, exactly?”

I back-filled her with the most recent events pertaining to all this, and she nodded while holding dozens of different dresses in front of me. There was no way she’d made all of these for me, right? Surely not- I’d seen most of these in the display window at some point, but nobody had bought them. I couldn’t imagine why- they were positively adorable.

We’re using words like adorable now, brain? When did this happen?!

“Hmmm,” Mom said. “Well, I hate to tell you this, but he might think this is a date.”

I sighed.

“But you can see it as an opportunity instead of that,” Mom said.

“An opportunity for what?”

“To dress up,” Mom said. “Show your true self- or at least your hidden self- to somebody outside the family, someone who already knows and whom you know is cool with all this. Plus, it’s letting bygones be bygones with someone who you got off on the wrong foot with. And, on top of all that, making friends is always easier when you’re being your most authentic self.”

“Are you saying I should dress up,” I said, taking a sleeveless blue maxi-dress out of her hands and holding it against my stomach.

“I’m suggesting it, yes,” Mom said. “But only if you want to.”

My hands trembled.

“I’ll do your makeup for you,” Mom offered.

I breathed in deep through my nose, out through my mouth. Then I nodded. “Let’s do this.”

The hours flew by as I tried on a dozen different dresses, finally settling on a hot pink shirt-dress that stopped just above my knees. Mom helped me with my hair and makeup, narrating the endeavor as she went so that I could take mental notes in case I ever wanted to do this myself. I watched the process carefully, trying to commit each individual step to memory.

Finally, when it was over, I took stock of myself in the mirror, and…

And…

“Whoa,” I said, my eyes going wide at the side of the cute girl in the cute dress with the perfect makeup and the collar length hair brushed out and blown dry and pushed back by a white headband. I was wearing foundation, and red lipstick, and dark eyeshadow, and mascara that made my blue eyes look huge.

“Thank you, I like to think I do good work,” Mom said.

“Y-you do,” I said, reaching out and poking the mirror. And the girl in the cute dress did the same. Because that girl was me, and I was…

And I am-

“Kate, your friend is here!” Dad called from downstairs.

I gulped, then Mom gestured me towards the door. I moved for it, then she said, “Wait.”

“What?” I said, stopping in the doorway.

“The piece de resistance,” Mom said, reaching behind her neck and removing the golden butterfly necklace, then putting it around my throat. “Perfect. You look beautiful. My beautiful daughter. All ready for her not-date.”

“It’s not a not-date,” I said. “Wait a minute, it’s not a not-not-”

Mom just laughed, and said, “Go get ‘im, tiger.”

I glided downstairs barefoot, the dress’ skirt bouncing about around my legs, warmth and giddiness bubbling up inside me. Zeke stood in the landing next to the back door, which led to the staircase that brought you to our apartment above the shop. He didn’t bring flowers, but he was holding a big box of pizza, which was even better given how hungry I was. And he wasn’t wearing a tux, but he was clad in a suit jacket over a tight-fitting t-shirt, as well as skinny jeans and converse. His hair was combed, parted to the right, and he had that big, stupid, handsome smile on his face.

I’m a lesbian, I’m a lesbian,I repeated inside my mind,Or I would be a lesbian if I were a girl, which I’m still not decided if I am-

“Wow,” Zeke said as I met him at the base of the stairwell. “You look beautiful.”

My jaw dropped, and a smile crept onto my face as I broke off eye contact and chuck… Giggled. I didn’t have a chuckle, I had a giggle, apparently. Probably had one my whole life, and nobody had the decency to tell me when it was no doubt exceedingly obvious to anyone who wasn’t me. “Thank you,” I finally managed to say over the crowd-like scream of my own pulse. “Let’s take things up to my room,” I said, co*cking my head back.

“Forward, aren’t we?” he smirked.

I blushed, realizing what I’d just said. “Oh, shut up. Come on.”

“Okay!” he smiled. That big, toothy, handsome… Handsome?

Handsome. It was okay for me to admit he was handsome. There was nothing wrong with me acknowledging he was handsome, that didn’t necessarily mean anything, I was allowed to think a guy was handsome as I invited him into my room. A girl was allowed to think a guy was handsome, even if she was a…

A…

Lesbian?

A lesbian, yeah. Yeah. Definitely.

I set up a picnic blanket on the hardwood floor of my room for us to eat on, then went and got some plates and napkins from the kitchen. Zeke made himself at home, sitting on the blanket and looking around. “Nice room. Love all your figures and model kits!”

“Thanks!” I smiled. “My parents got me into making them. They actually met at a model building contest.”

“There are model building contests?” Zeke asked.

“Yeah, mostly at anime cons,” I said, sitting down next to him.

“Hm, neat. Can’t say I’ve ever been to one.”

“Never?” I balked.

“Not a once,” Zeke said. “No cons at all, actually.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Zeke repeated. “My folks were never big on anything they considered a waste of time. You can imagine how they feel about the whole competitive robot fighting thing.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry,” I said, my brow furrowing and my eyes going wide. “My parents have always been so chill… I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a playful wave of his hand. “Maybe we can go to one sometime.”

A gulp caught in my throat. He was asking me to- and that was- planning a second- he couldn’t possibly be- “T-together?” I asked, my pulse quickening.

“Yeah, all three of us!” Zeke said. “Faith has been saying for a while how much she wants to go to one soon- something about wanting to try cosplay.”

“Oh,” I said, “Right.” I hoped the clear note of disappointment in my voice wasn’t as audible to him as it was for me. All three of us. He wanted us all to be friends- that was probably all he wanted. A thought popped up inside my head, and I tried my best to stomp it out, but it wouldn’t die: I was disappointed that this wasn’t a date. .

I opened the box of pizza sitting in front of me, and my mouth watered at the sight of it. “Is this… What I think it is?” I said, pressing my hands together and looking at Zeke expectantly.

“A pineapple, bacon, and jalapeno pizza,” Zeke said with a nod.

“A PB&J!” I said, bouncing up and down where I sat.

“You like that? Good,” he said.

“Love it- it’s my favorite!”

“Cool! Mine too! I never get to eat them, though.”

“Lemme guess, Faith isn’t a fan?”

“Jalapenos are a no-go-zone for her,” Zeke said as he helped himself to two slices. “Also, she’s skeptical of the concept of pineapple on pizza.”

“Philistine.”

“Heh, that’s what I call her sometimes too.”

I smiled as a warm fluttering sensation ran through my chest. I wanted to stamp it out, but… I also didn’t. “So, ready to watch some Gundam?”

“Hell yeah I am!”

“You ever seen the OG?”

“Nah. How’s it hold up?”

“Goofy in places, jank as hell in others, but still pretty fun,” I said.

“Aight then, let’s do this!” he said, raising his hands into the air like a goober.

We watched the show, and even though I’d already seen every episode twice, I can’t for the life of me recall anything that happened in it that night. I kept looking over at Zeke, seeing his facial reactions and body language, letting that warm feeling I got from sitting next to him and watching him be his goofy self stoke into a full-on fire. It filled me up, and by the end of the night, an entire pizza and two hours worth of anime later, I admitted to myself how much I wanted this to be a date.

Crap.

Chapter 7

Chapter Text

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read three chapters ahead on this story, twenty chapters ahead on "A Dream of Summer Rain", and two chapters ahead on "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

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Thank you so much for your continued support of my work! Every little bit helps me to keep going :)

And now, back to our regularly scheduled nerdy romcom shenanigans!

***

Faith

I kept time with the metronome as I pirouetted around my living room. I’d decided early on in my transition that I wanted to be more graceful, and ballet had seemed like a good way to accomplish that while staying in shape. Murder on the feet, but so worth it- I was, if nothing else, of a marginal amateur level of talent, which was all I was asking for. So, each night, I donned my workout garb, moved the orange couch and brown coffee table a few feet so they pressed against the back wall, rolled up the white carpet that normally covered the linoleum floor, and put on the metronome and danced around the living room.

The tumblers clicked on the lock, and my front door opened to reveal my handsome, dashing, wonderful roommate and best friend entering the apartment.

I broke out of my pose and grabbed my towel off of the couch, blotting my sweaty face. “Hey!”

“Hi,” he said, taking off his suit jacket and sticking it in the coat closet that indented our apartment just to the left of the front door, hanging it alongside his leather jacket and my white overcoat.

“How’s it going?” I asked, switching off my metronome and pushing the couch and coffee table back into their normal positions in front of the plasma screen television.

“Oh, you know, it’s going,” Zeke said. “You have a good workout?”

“Yeah!” I said, trying my best to show off my winning smile. My orange sports bra and black tutu may not have been the most conventional ballet attire, but it did show off my abs, something I was very eager to do now that I had them.

Dancing didn’t just help me get in shape and feel that sweet, sweet gender euphoria, either- it gave me a great opportunity to be alone with my thoughts and actually THINK them. And that evening, I’d come to two conclusions: one, my friendship and working relationship with Zeke was too important to risk destroying by asking him to be my boyfriend out of the blue, at least not when I had no idea if he felt the same way as I did; two, I wanted him to make the first move. Maybe I was old-fashioned, but the idea of the guy being the one to escalate the relationship from non-romantic to romantic really appealed to me. Plus, if I put out hints that I liked him, was a bit more flirty and forward than usual, and he slowly cottoned on to what I was getting at and then asked me out, then it would all be perfect. And if he didn’t pick up on the hints, or just wasn’t interested, I had plausible deniability. It was an immaculate plan, totally fool-proof.

I put a hand on my hip and leaned forward to show off my modest boobs and toned abs and smooth legs. “How do I look?”

“Like you just worked out?” Zeke said, aiming for the fridge and retrieving his jug of cranberry juice. He reached into the liquor cabinet after that and pulled out the flask of vodka, then poured himself a shot of it mixed with a glass of cranberry juice.

‘ Oh. Right. I was sweaty and gross. “Good point. I should hit the shower. After that, wanna hang out?”

“Sure, sure,” he said, nursing his drink, swirling it around in his hands, staring at the wall.

“You okay, Zeke?” I asked, tilting my head.

“Hm? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, looked at the screen, and chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Sorry, I’m just a little tired.”

“Oh?” I said. “What were you off doing? I never got a chance to ask you before you left.”

“Oh, just hanging out with a friend.”

“Who?”

“Calloway,” he said.

My eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, what?”

He took a long sip of his drink. “What?”

“Why were you hanging out with him?” I said, folding my arms over my chest and shrinking in on myself a bit.

“Calloway texted me asking if I wanted to watch Gundam. I said yes, because I’m tired of all the weird hostility between us. And because I like Gundam,” Zeke said simply. “Honestly, Calloway is pretty cool outside of the ring.”

“Oh,” I said, taking a step back. “Fair enough. I… You can do what you want, but I’m probably not gonna hang out with him any time soon. You know that, right?”

“I mean, you two actually have more in common then you might think-”

“I… Am not crazy about that comparison, but if you say so, sure,” I said, taking another step back, pivoting left from the kitchen towards the hallway that led to the rest of our apartment. Finally, I turned around and went for the bathroom. “Glad you had fun, though. Seriously. You can never have too many friends. I’m gonna hop in the shower now.”

“Sounds good, Faithy,” he said, and he flashed that smile, and for a second everything was fine.

Everything was fine, fine, fine, fine, FINE.

I showered, put my hair up in a towel, and wrapped a bathrobe around myself as I stepped out into the living room, where I found Zeke texting again while smiling that smile of his. The one that I knew wasn’t for me and me alone, but that I…

No, stop that, Faith, he doesn’t owe you anything,I thought.He’s a person, and he can make his own decisions about what he does with his free time.

Zeke and I wound up watching an old film noir that night, but I barely paid attention, and he was texting the entire time, smiling and chuckling every time his phone buzzed from a new message. I didn’t need to ask who it was.

***

The week went by normally, all things considered. Zeke and I worked onDai Gurenduring the days, hung out and watched movies at night. Nothing was wrong, per se, but he was just always texting, and whenever I asked who he was talking to, he had the same answer:

Calloway.

The one thing I found odd was that, despite the two clearly being close friends now (apparently), he always referred to Calloway by his last name. Never his first. And yeah, sometimes guys just did that, even with close friends, but even when he’d thought I was a guy Zeke called me by my first name.

I tried to just keep it, keep him, out of my mind. Who Zeke spent his free time with was his business, and everyone needs more than one friend. I mean, I only needed one, but other people, yeah, they require multiple outlets for social engagement. And if Zeke and I were gonna start dating- which was not a guarantee, obviously, just something I’d really really really like to happen- then he would need a new platonic best friend. And I may not have been crazy about Keith Calloway, but hey, Zeke could do worse. Could be Olivia.

Olivia. I had to go up against her in less than a week. I wasn’t crazy about that, but if nothing else, it might be a bit cathartic to defeat her.

On Thursday morning, the day before our match, I decided to do a bit of shopping. I’d just gotten my monthly stipend from my parents- they were still a little iffy on the whole trans thing, still occasionally misgendered me and then immediately corrected themselves but got annoyed at me when I tired to correct them. But they were trying, and that was the important part. And hey, when both your folks are in the Army Corps of Engineers, wanting to build fighting robots for money is far from the worst thing you can do with your early twenties. I’ll get a real job someday- right now, though, I’m still figuring myself out. No reason I can’t do something I love while I do that.

Zeke was passed out on the living room couch clutching his beloved baby seal plushie, Lacus. I jotted down where I was going and when I intended to be back on a sticky note and put it on his forehead. He didn’t wake up- the man slept like a rock, it was almost impressive- and I headed out.

I cruised down Lincoln in the Star-Rocket Racer, weaving in and out of traffic as I headed for Venice. The best shops were in Santa Monica, but the more affordable and more trans-friendly ones tended to be in Venice. The air was warm with early-summer heat, the sky was clear and blue for miles, and the narrow street was uncrowded thanks to the just-shy-of-midday hours. The salty smell of the nearby ocean wafted through the air on a gentle, cooling seabreeze, and the clean street packed with shops and storefronts nearly sparkled in the sunlight. I wore my favorite off-white sleeveless sundress with a sunflower pattern, along with strappy wedge-heel sandals, a wide-brimmed black sun-hat, and a string of pearls around my neck that my mom had gifted me as a coming out present. I’d gone for a natural makeup look that day, subtle eyes and pink lipstick and just enough foundation to cover up my razor burn. My black cat purse was slung over my shoulder as I sauntered down the street, humming an Olivia Rodrigo song as I looked in the store windows.

At the end of the street, I found a shop called ‘Surf Turf Apparel.’ Palm trees enclosed both sides of the brick store, and in the window was the most adorable green swing dress with white polka dots I’d ever seen. It looked a bit big for me (pros and cons of being hilariously short- thanks, hilariously short parents), but I could at least ask if they had anything more in my size. If not… I dunno, I could try shortening it myself. I’d always wanted to learn how to sew.

I stepped inside and looked around- they had a lot of great dresses in here! Every style and color and fabric I could name, and plenty I couldn’t, hung from mannequins, harkening to eras as far back as the 1950s. At least one dress was there to represent each decade in the history of American fashion, standing proudly amidst the more standard beach apparel and SO MANY GORGEOUS HATS! I’d never been more in love with a shop this quickly! They had everything!

From the back of the store came an unnaturally high voice, what sounded like someone putting on a traditional female tone, perhaps someone, like me, who didn’t naturally speak in a feminine register. “Hi there!”

Poor thing- I’d gotten a bit better since I’d started doing vocal exercises on the daily. Maybe I could give her a few pointers.

I looked at the source of the voice as she continued speaking, “Welcome to Surf Turf Apparel! How may I…”

The voice trailed off as I looked at the person behind the counter. We made eye contact. Prolonged eye contact. Prolonged, unblinking, silent eye contact. It was incredibly awkward. But when someone you low-key hated surprised you in a manner this thorough, it was hard not to be speechless and equally hard to look away.

Calloway stood behind the wooden counter wearing a short-sleeved v-neck burgundy blouse, a golden butterfly necklace, and a full face of makeup- dark eyeshadow and red lipstick and very bold mascara. Her light brown hair was put up in a high but loose ponytail, with freshly-curled ringlets dancing about loosely on the sides of her face. Her eyebrows looked like they’d been freshly tweezed that very morning. It made her face look… Softer. Less aggressive. All of it together honestly made her look like a totally different person.

Was it ‘her?’ Should I be using ‘her’ for her? I should ask.

But that would require me to do something with my mouth besides let it hang open in shock. Calloway, for her part, still wasn’t saying anything or blinking either. I think I understood now why Zeke had been exclusively using her last name around me.

A tall, middle-aged woman (MILF,my brain automatically screamed) with long platinum hair, clad in a yellow A-line maxi-dress and flat white sandals, walked out from the back of the shop and said, “Close your mouth, Katie. Flies will nest. Also, you have a customer.”

“Hey, Mom, can I take my ten?” Calloway asked.

“Sure. You want me to handle this one?” her evident mother asked.

“Actually, Faith and I know each other, and we need to have a little talk.”

I was too shocked to react to this, too shocked to even do anything when Calloway… Katie, apparently… Grabbed me by the arm and shepherded me outside and into the alleyway next to what was APPARENTLY her family’s shop. Becauseof course it freaking was.

“Okay,” I started, “So-”

“I’m not trans!” Calloway said, in that practiced high pitched voice of hers.

I blinked. “Uh-huh. Right.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“I shouldn’t say.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not something you should have other people confirm for you,” I said. “And because I think all this speaks for itself, so if you’re too blind to see it, then that ain’t my fault.”

She raised a finger, then lowered it and looked at the ground. “That’s a fair point.”

“So,” I said, arms folded together. Her eyes were instantly drawn to my chest, at which point I looked down and realized the fold was putting my cleavage on display. I tucked my arms away behind my back hurriedly. “Anyway. Was there anything else you wanted to say to me, or was it really just that?”

Calloway… Katie, or maybe it was still Keith on some level (hard to say with eggs this dense), exhaled audibly and said, “I need you to keep this to yourself.”

“Yeah, of course,” I said with a nonchalant shrug.

“I mean it, Watanabe! I- wait, seriously, just like that?”

“Yeah, just like that,” I said, struggling to keep the monotone out of my voice. “Look, everything else that’s happened between us aside, I am not just gonna out somebody because of spite. I mean seriously, what kind of asshole do you take me for?”

She looked at me blankly, unblinking once more.

My eyes narrowed. “Oh my God, what kind of asshole do you take me for?!”

She let her mouth hang open for ten agonizingly long seconds before saying, “Is that a rhetorical question?”

“It was, yeah. But now it’s not!”

“I don’t think you’re an asshole! Okay, there! I said it. I just… Didn’t think you were gonna do me any favors because… Last time we talked, I… And you…”

I heaved a beleaguered sigh. “I… Uh, so about that-”

“I’m sorry for antagonizing you last season!” she suddenly shouted, stepping forward, grabbing my hands and squeezing them inside her own.

My pulse quickened and my jaw dropped. What the heck was going on?

She kept going: “I just… I liked playing to the crowd. I get way too into it, though, and I forgot what’s fun and hammy for me might be obnoxious and overbearing to other people. I’m sorry. I should have talked to you about this, to your whole team about this, last year, instead of going after you every time I was on camera. I’m sorry.”

She looked like she was on the verge of tears, sincerity and hope and despair radiating out from her very soul. Her blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight, her long lashes mesmerizing as she opened and closed her eyes rapidly. I could feel my face going red. Was I…

No, no. She was cute in a freshly-hatched way, sure, but I wasn’t attracted to her- it was just aesthetic appreciation.

“I forgive you,” I said, squeezing her hands back. “And I’m sorry for blowing up at you. I was… In a bad place. I’d just come out, and my girlfriend dumped me on the spot because of it.”

“Oh my God!” she said, finally releasing my hands from her grasp and putting them on her hips. Outraged painted over her face. “That’s horrible! That’s why she’s on a different team this year?!”

“Yup.”

“What a bitch!”

“Please don’t say that about my ex, I still care about her,” I said flatly.

“Right! Right, sorry. I just…”

“You get carried away sometimes. I get it.”

“And you’re going up against her this week?”

“Yup,” I said. “First match of the night, no less.”

“Ooof,” Katie said. I figured I should just call her that- seemed safest. “I’m going up against Haverfield andAnsible.”

“Ugh, I hate that guy,” I said.

“Big same.”

“Kick his ass for me?” I asked.

She stood at attention and gave a salute, of the kind so formal it would make my parents proud. “Gotta make things up to you somehow.”

“Hey come on, I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Yeah, but I do,” Katie said. “I’m tired of being the jerk. But if I’m going up against another jerk… Well, I’ll feel less bad about it. Also, I… I wanna be friends with Zeke. And since you two are besties… Well, you and I should probably learn to coexist.”

I smiled. She was so… Sincere, so earnest. It was really surprising. She was also much cuter like this, so that probably helped disarm me a bit. “Fair enough! To co-existence.”

“Here, here!” she said, extending a hand.

We shook, and I’ll admit, I was taken aback by how firm her grip was. She was definitely intense, definitely a lot, but… Maybe she and I could be friends.

Chapter 8

Chapter Text

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read three chapters ahead on this story, twenty chapters ahead on "A Dream of Summer Rain", and two chapters ahead on "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

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You can also purchase the official ebooks for both "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad" and "A Dream of Summer Rain" here:

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https://helena-heissner.itch.io/a-dream-of-summer-rain

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Thank you so much for your continued support of my work! Every little bit helps me to keep going :)

And now, back to our regularly scheduled nerdy romcom shenanigans!

***

“Keith”

Fight night came faster than usual that week. I spent an hour debating what to wear in front of my mirror before deciding to go masc for the evening. I’d spent most of the week wearing hardly anything besides feminine clothing- I’d even put on a pair of cutoff jean shorts when I was in the garage wrenching on Poly. It felt… Weird, wearing boys’ clothes again. Wrong, almost.

No, no, not ‘almost.’ It felt wrong. It felt like I was wearing clothes made of sandpaper, sliding over my skin and scraping it every time I moved. Everything was screaming at me, and my brain was smothered by a tight layer of plastic wrap that kept it from forming normal, rational thoughts.

I wondered, for not nearly the first time in the past seven days, if maybe… Maybe this was a sign I shouldn’t try to be a boy anymore. It felt… Easier to be a girl. Better. I was happier when I was in dresses- not even I could deny that. But still, the idea of saying that out loud, of committing to it… It was like wading out into a section of ocean oversaturated with slimy seaweed. It scared me, filled me with shame, made me feel like… A…

A pervert. That’s what I was. All I’d ever be.

I tried to swallow that as I finished making some more adjustments to Poly while in the pits, and jumped when someone said, “Hey.”

I yelped, and then registered it was Zeke and Faith.

“Maybe switch to decaf, huh Calloway?” Zeke said, that stupid, smug, handsome smile plastered to his face. Ugh. That was the worst part of all- when I was in girls’ clothes, when I was Kate, it felt normal and natural for me to get a little flustered when I saw Zeke, for me to want to stare at his face and appreciate how handsome it was, for me to feel at ease in his presence and want to stand closer to him. But when I was Keith, it just felt… Wrong. I felt wrong. He felt wrong. Not even different, but like it didn’t match me, and it just made the proverbial sandpaper of my male identity scratch and scrape me even more than it did already.

“Probably a good idea,” I said, breaking off eye contact.

“You wanna watch us?” Faith asked.

My eyes went wide and I blushed as an IMAGE went through my brain. I gulped, and the burning feeling inside my skull was extinguished ever so slightly as I realized it was time for their fight. “Yeah!” I squeaked. “Yes. Good look out there! I’ll be out in a minute cheering for y’all.”

“Thanks,” Faith said. “We’re gonna need it.”

“Good luck with your fight too, yeah?” Zeke said, offering me a thumbs up. STOP. BEING. SO. ATTRACTIVE. STOP MAKING ME FEEL LIKE AN EVEN BIGGER PERVERT THAN I ALREADY AM. GAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

“Thanks,” I said with an even tone.

I want to say I wasn’t staring at his butt as he left. I really, really want to say that. But…

You get the idea.

Eventually, I got tired of making minor adjustments and tweaks and just went outside to watch the fight.

I’d never been able to get much of a read on Olivia Root. I’d only ever really known her as Faith’s girlfriend, frequently either in the pilot’s seat or operating a secondary weapon. On at least one occasion, they’d busted out a mini-bot that Olivia had piloted personally. She was a good driver- really good, in fact, but as last season had gone on Faith had done more and more of the piloting personally. Which wasn’t a bad thing, per se, but…

Look, Faith is a great engineer, but I’m not being arrogant when I say I could drive circles around her most of the time. Mostly because Olivia could drive circles around me. It didn’t excuse her for doing what she’d done, but still… I could see why she might have been frustrated with her partner’s actions even before the whole ‘awkward coming out’ thing.

That was a concept that terrified me: I’d always been a one man… One person band. My own engineer, my own mechanic, my own pilot. But there were other people I needed. My parents were the most supportive folks on the planet, but I didn’t know if the same could be said for my sponsor. And what if I got a girlfriend some day. Would she be okay with… Whatever it is I am?

Zeke would be. The thought went through me like a bullet, tearing through layers of cognitive dissonance. I shook my head as I walked through the archway into the contestant’s viewing area, a dugout of sorts near the commentators side as the opening hype-monologues rolled. I squirmed a little bit and adjusted my panties discreetly, making sure no trace of them went above the top line of my jeans.

I looked across the arena and saw Faith and Zeke walking into their control area, Olivia operating with a small team in her own square.

The mechanical voice wailed, “ROBOTS, ACTIVATE!”

And it began.

Chapter 9

Chapter Text

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read three chapters ahead on this story, twenty chapters ahead on "A Dream of Summer Rain", and two chapters ahead on "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

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You can also purchase the official ebooks for both "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad" and "A Dream of Summer Rain" here:

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Thank you so much for your continued support of my work! Every little bit helps me to keep going :)

And now, back to our regularly scheduled nerdy romcom shenanigans!

***

Faith

I slammed my tiny fist against the button as the fight started, and Olivia did the same. She’d always been the one to do that when she was on my team. When she was my…

I’d first met Olivia when she transferred to my school our sophom*ore year. She’d been under the impression she was the only girl in the engineering program, and I’d sort of agreed with her at the time, albeit only half-heartedly. I was never really sure what she saw in me- the first time we met, I was late for class and rushed in with my hair a matted mess of bedhead and my baggy sweatpants practically falling off and the bags under my eyes staging a protracted police action against the rest of my face. She’d been sitting there in that white marble room at one of those annoying, uncomfortable swivel-chair desks, nursing a pink drink while the professor berated me for being tardy on the first day of class.

The only free chair had been the one next to her, so I sat down while mumbling that I’d overslept. When class was over, she turned to me and asked what the real reason was that I’d been late on the first day.

“It’s… It’s lame,” I’d said.

“Pfft, I’ll be the judge of that,” she’d said. “Trust me, I’m a connoisseur of lame.”

“Well then you and I will get along swimmingly.”

“Mayhaps, haps-may. Now c’mon, tell me.”

I’d reached into my backpack and retrieved my notebook and showed her my preliminary designs for what became theDai Gurren. As the stars lit up in those big brown eyes, my heart flared inside my chest and intelligent thought was drowned out by lustful, infatuated static.

She’s asked to help me with it on the spot. She seemed surprised when I’d said yes.

I asked her out on a date a week later, and I was definitely surprised when she said yes.

Olivia’s new robot, theTooth Fairy,was a massive apparatus of rebar and plastic on two wheels, all painted sleek white, with a long, single blade spinning vertically down the middle. Had to be careful about that thing- the drills onDai Gurrenwere precision instruments, better suited to dealing with flippers and percussive weapons than spinners. But the problem every spinner had, at least in my experience, was that they needed time to achieve maximum velocity.

Dai Gurrenhad no such problem.

I’d promised myself I’d remain stoic and steely the entire fight. I’d worn a black gown that night, like I was dressed for a funeral. Zeke had even traded in the tux for an all-black suit and tie. No frills, no theatrics, no making a show of ourselves. This was all awkward enough as-is without any of us adding to it.

And yet I found myself screaming as I hadDai Gurrencareen towards the enemy bot at full speed.

Tooth Fairyswerved out of the way at the last second, forcing me to pump the breaks and reverse before I went crashing into the rotating screws. I narrowly avoided that fate, only forTooth Fairyto take me from behind before I could reroute. Sparks jetted out DG and decorated the arena while my bot was forced up into the screws and whittled away at. Finally, I managed to slide out of her terrible grasp and get on the run, but she was relentless in her pursuit.

“I think it’s time, Faith,” Zeke said, his smooth, dulcet tones helping calm me down by a small measure. I needed to stay calm, needed to focus, or I WOULD lose this fight.

“Good idea,” I said. We’d installed a backup weapon, a retractactable knife that came out the left hand side and swung backwards in a slicing motion. It wouldn’t do much good against all that rebar when TF had us pinned, but at the proper angle we could navigate it past the defenses and trip up the vertical spinner.

I wonder how Calloway… How Kate would feel, if she knew we’d gotten the idea from her- a simple blade to puncture an opponent’s weapon unexpectedly. Crude, but effective… Like her, I suppose.

I turned DG left, left, left around the slots where the kill-saws would rise in the last minute of the duel, then let myself ease up on the controls. Had to be precise about this, or the blade would do nothing more than dent the rebar.

“Now,” I uttered, and Zeke slammed the button on his control pad. From the left hand side emerged the switchblade, not even hidden (the announcers had even mentioned the thing going into the fight) so much as downplayed compared to the rest of the busy design.

Olivia took her hands off her controls, and her bot stopped while our’s kept moving, and the arc of the blade missed by a full inch.

She resumed her assault, and the vertical spinner sliced up the mechanical limb that propelled the switchblade clean off.

I let out a tiny gasp as my eyes went wide and my jaw dropped and my heartbeat thundered inside my chest. TF’s spinner had achieved maximum velocity.

I slammed the speed controls, trying to put as much distance between our bots as possible, but she just kept coming. I headed for the hammer, the whack-a-mole device situated in the far-right corner, hoping to lure her into it and then pivot out of the way, but I was too slow as she barreled into me and took another chunk of DG, then fled as the hammer came crashing down and shattered DG’s drills.

“NO!” I screamed. I drove us out of the way of the hammer just in time for her to crash into us weapon-first again, carving a hideous vertical gash into DG’s faceplate.

Smoke plumed out of DG alongside the sparks. I tried to reroute us, but the wheels were slowing down. Dammit- she must have gotten some of our wiring. Our wheels were barely spinning, and TF loomed in front of us with her damn rotating guillotine.

The announcers were shouting something, but I’d tuned it out.

All I could think about was when Olivia dumped me, she’d completely ghosted me. I’d tried calling her the next day, but it became clear she’d blocked me right away. Email netted a similar result, and when I’d sent Zeke to go to her apartment on my behalf, he’d come back within a half hour stating that Olivia had threatened to call the cops if he didn’t leave.

So that had been that.

I hadn’t actually spoken a word to her since she’d left me.

Sorrow and fury competed for space inside my heart as her bot crashed into mine and crippled it, ripping its metal shell apart and leaving a smoking heap where once stood a mighty machine. She drove circles around us while Marty Weston screamed, “HOLY MOLY! WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT! THE REIGNING CHAMPIONS HAVE BEEN HANDED THEIR FIRST DEFEAT OF THE SEASON BY THEIR FORMER TEAMMATE! OH THE IRONY! OH THE HUMANITY! WHAT AN ABSOLUTELY BRUTAL DISPLAY! AND FAITH WATANABE IS BACK TO BEING SPEECHLESS.”

I kept trying to say something, kept trying to move. Eventually, Zeke put a hand on my shoulder and I had to stop myself from sobbing into his chest again- it would look bad if I did that on camera, I knew it would. I’d just be throwing a hissy-fit that I’d lost, same as Kate always did, and I…

I didn’t wanna be like her.

Guilt slashed across my chest as I thought that, but there it was. Especially if it turned out she and I had a lot more in common than I’d initially believed.

I looked over at Olivia, and I remembered the first time we’d gottenDai Gurrenup and running- it had been a Friday night, and like the idiot I was, I’d suggested working on our robot together as a date night. Zeke had been busy with his own date, some girl who’d turned out to have stood him up and left him stranded at an Italian restaurant for two hours, so Olivia and I had the workshop all to ourselves.

She’d had her hair up, like she did tonight, and she wore a green t-shirt and jeans, like she was wearing tonight. She kept her hands on the control panel as the wheels started spinning, and a smile erupted on her face as DG finally began to move around.

“IT’S ALIVE,” she’d screamed, “IT’S ALIVE,” while dancing around and looking me in the face. “It’s alive. It’s our baby and it’s alive.”

That was when she’d kissed me. It wasn’t the first time, but the kind of forceful passion and awkward glee as our lips met felt like our first kiss all over again.

This time, she stared me dead in the eyes from across the way, her face blank and unreadable. She walked away, and I stared at her until Zeke was forced to usher me out of the box and towards the post-fight interview.

To say it was uncomfortable would be an understatement. Zeke and I stood to the left of Marty Weston while he interviewed Olivia and her team, and Olivia was the picture of professionalism. She said nothing about me, nothing about our history, simply talked about the design of her bot and what she’d done to prepare to fight DG.

That was the thing- she didn’t mention Zeke or I by name at any point.

By the time she was done, I was barely present. Felt like my heart was lodged in my throat, barely beating as it obstructed any words from making it out. Zeke handled the questions in the interview, and I barely heard a word he was saying.

I barely heard anything at all.

It was like I didn’t even exist. To her, to myself, to anyone else.

I didn’t say anything, do anything, feel anything.

Until I felt Zeke’s arm around my shoulder again as he led me back into the pits. The tears in my eyes blotted everything out, but I noticed a second set of arms wrapped around me. Tall, but not as tall as Zeke. Slender and smooth and delicate, save for the rough hands that squeezed my mid-back.

It was Kate. She held me up while Zeke hugged the both of us, and I let myself cry, not sure who’s chest it was I was sobbing into.

The weirdest part was, at that moment, I didn’t care. I was just happy there were both there with me, there for me.

Chapter 10

Chapter Text

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

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Thank you so much for your continued support of my work! Every little bit helps me to keep going :)

And now, back to our regularly scheduled nerdy romcom shenanigans!

***

“Keith”

“Is she gonna be okay?” I asked. Faith sat on a stool behind me, looking at the desecrated husk ofDai Gurrenwith a look in her eyes like she’d just gotten back from a tour in Afghanistan.

I’d rushed back into the pits as soon as their fight had ended. I hadn’t planned on glomping onto her for a big group hug like that, but… She just looked so defeated. And that… What Root had done, and the way she had done it, cold and methodical and impersonal, was just so brutal, and Watanabe… And Faith had been so kind to me the other day…

Part of me felt like a jerk, only caring because she’d been nice to me, only caring because of my friendship with Zeke, but at the same time…

I cared. If I didn’t care about someone who’d just been humiliated in the most brutally professional way possible by her ex-girlfriend on live television, then I’d have to be as big of an asshole as everyone thought I was.

“I don’t know,” Zeke said, looking back at her. The concern on his face was plain to see- he cared about her a lot. Made sense- he’d said they’d been friends for five years, teammates for three. He’d been there with her for her breakup and her transition and…

That was more than just friendly concern in his eyes. Even an idiot like me could see that. The way they were dilated, the way his fists were clenched and his broad shoulders flared out… He liked her. A LOT, by the look of it.

Something green and noxious flared through me, and I blinked rapidly as I tried to parse through it. Was I jealous of him, having someone he cared for in that way to that degree? Or was I jealous of her, because…

Because it would mean that I liked Zeke Underhill romantically?

I gulped and tried to swallow that feeling, shaking my head. “Root could have at least come up for a handshake after the fight,” I said.

“Yeah,” Zeke growled, his concerned face shifting into a glare. “Olivia and I were never that close, but still… This was pretty harsh of her to do.”

“Maybe… Maybe she just didn’t wanna make a big thing of it while the cameras were rolling,” I offered.

“Maybe,” Zeke said, that righteous intensity on his face doing something to me that I was very, very unprepared to process.

I shook my head again. “I, uh, I have to get ready for my fight, but let’s meet up after, okay? All three of us.”

“That sounds good,” he said, leaning in for a hug. I accepted it, and he put his mouth near my ear and whispered, “Thank you, Katie.”

I felt my cheeks flush with warmth, probably going tomato red in the process, and a tingling went through my chest. Butterflies in my stomach, the warm breeze from their flapping wings finding their way up to my heart and leaving it buzzing. My eyes went wide as the warmth of euphoria and recognition and… And attraction resonated through every cell in my body.

I pulled free of the hug with only the utmost of reluctance, and I looked into his big brown eyes a little too long for my comfort or his. I didn’t even realize my arms were around his neck until I noticed his hands were on my hips. And I didn’t notice that until I saw that his olive-skinned face was blushing even redder than I was sure mine was.

I coughed and broke away, and I heard a distant laughter in the background.

My head snapped around as I saw Nate Haverfield wheelingAnsibleout towards the arena. “Well look at that- Underhill and his princesses,” he snickered as he walked away. “When’s the wedding, you fairies?”

Any positive emotion was snuffed out of me in an instant, replaced by the acrid and sulfurous vapor of wounded vanity and bristling anger. “Excuse me a minute,” I said as I yanked myself free of Zeke’s grip. “I have to take out the trash.”

I didn’t put on an evil smile as I walked out into the arena. I wasn’t in the mood to be a fun, hammy villain tonight. I was looking for blood. I let the angry sneer on my face speak for itself, stared directly into the camera with that look plastered on for everyone to see while the introductory monologues were given.

Finally, it was time. I hit the big button like it was a punching bag and letPolyphemusloose.

Ansiblewas a deceptively small, compact machine. Most of its weight was in the horizontal buzzsaw it lugged around, as was most of its power. Poly’s single blade wouldn’t survive a direct collision with that thing, so the key was getting around it. Specifically, to the apparatus that held the spinning saw in place.

I charged while Haverfield revved up his weapon- it needed thirty seconds to achieve maximum velocity, and with two full tanks of lighter fluid on Poly’s sides, I was slower than usual. Or at least, slower than Haverfield was used to me being.

So, I decided to play into that, closing the gap and then weaning myself off the gas to make it look like I was slowing down without realizing it.

The jeering idiot fell for it, thinking he had extra time to rev up his weapon. I disillusioned him of that right-quick, waiting for him to charge me and then pivoting left and unleashing a massive spray of fire from my right flamethrower, then piercing the traction that kept his left tread intact.

“HOLY MACKEREL!POLYPHEMUSPULLS OFF A FAINT AND DELIVERS A BLOW TOANSIBLE’STRACTION! That katana is jamming the tread and Keith Calloway is pushing further and further in!” Weston bellowed from the announcer's box.

I kept going, jamming my sword in deeper while spewing fire from both my makeshift flamethrowers. A guttural scream, gravely and primal, erupted from deep within my chest as I slammedAnsibleinto the screws. I kept the bot pinned there for a full ten seconds before I was required to back off, so I wheeled back five feet and situated myself in front of the slats where kill-saws would be emerging in the next minute.

“We’ve gotta see some movement fromAnsiblesoon or Nate Haverfield is gonna get counted out,” Derek Benes said.

And sure enough,Ansiblescreeched to life, the left tread just barely operating as Haverfield sent the bot charging towards Poly. But there was one problem- the broken tread madeAnsiblepull to the right while it was moving forward. Not severely, not enough to be unworkable, barely enough for most people to notice. Marty and Derek didn’t address it all.

But I wasn’t them. I wasn’t most people. I wasn’t most pilots.

“C’mere you little bitch,” Haverfield snarled from five feet away. “I got something for ya’ that you might like.”

“Not in your wildest dreams, old man,” I hissed.

I waited, driving in circles around the four matching slots at the center of the box.

Waited.

Waited.

Ansiblestarted closing in while I completed a rotation, aiming for my right-hand gas tank.

I pulled left and rammed my sword deep into the wiring that kept the buzzsaw running, then bathed the enemy in my righteous fire. I withdrew, going backwards and getting Haverfield to chase me.

I cleared the garden of slots just in time for the kill-saws to burst up from below, ripping apart the remainder ofAnsible’sleft tread and carving up a chunk of the right one as well. Haverfield limped across the battle box towards me. I made laps around the box, forcing Haverfield to have to readjust.

Smoke started coming from his machine, out of the mutilated remains of his treads as the bot moved only an inch at a time.

“THIS IS JUST BRUTAL, DEREK!” Marty shouted. “WOULD YOU BELIEVE HAVERFIELD CAME INTO THIS FIGHT co*ckY! AND NOW HE LOOKS LIKE A DEAD MAN WALKING! AND A VICIOUS RETURN TO FORM BY RESIDENT BAD BOY KEITH CALLOWAY!”

I flinched at the sound of my own name. My… My professional name, if nothing else. It struck the flint of my dysphoria and poured gasoline onto the fire of my rage.

Then,Ansiblestopped moving altogether.

“We need to see some movement, or we’re gonna count you out!” The black and white striped shirt clad referee said to Haverfield.

I didn’t wait for the countdown to start. I charged one more time, both my flamethrowers unleashing columns of orange-red wrath as I slammed intoAnsiblefrom behind. It went straight into exposed wiring, and the flames from my bot ignited the diesel fromAnsible’sengine.

“10! 9!” the referee started counting down.

When I pulled away, there was a gaping hole where the back of Haverfield’s bot used to be. Both its treads were ripped apart like papier mâché, and its weapon was non-functional. And it was on fire.

“CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS! WHAT A STATEMENT FROM POLYPHEMUS!” Derek said.

I did a victory lap as the crowd went wild and the countdown finished.

I won. My hands were trembling as I walked away from the battle box, Haverfield glaring daggers at me.

A hideous buzzing went through my head as people shouted my name from the crowd: “KEITH! KEITH! KEITH!”

It turned to a rotting feeling in my chest, like I was dying piece by piece every time I heard the name. And yet the heat of my temper refused to cool. Derek shoved a microphone in my face for the interview.

I really, really, wished he hadn’t.

“How you feeling right now, Keith Calloway?” Derek asked.

“I’m feeling like the sheriff is back in town, and anyone who expects what happened to me last week to happen again this season is an idiot,” I said, venom dripping off of each syllable. “I think that anyone who expected me to be on a downward spiral needs to be a taught a lesson, just like I taught a lesson to that rank amateur Nate Haverfield tonight. Anyone who wants to take a shot at me, be prepared to be broken and humiliated. And anyone who insults me or my friends, same goes for you!”

“WHOA, MAN! Loving the intensity!” Derek said. Of course he did. The crowd cheered and put-up hands when I said what I said, so they loved it too.

Of course. This was what they wanted me to be. This was the man I taught them to expect me to be. The man who was slowly killing me, inch by inch.

“You got anything else to add?” Derek asked.

DON’T SAY IT DON’T SAY IT DON’T SAY IT- “Yeah. Olivia Root, TeamTooth Fairy- nobody is allowed to beatDai Gurrenbut me. If we meet inside the battle box, I’M GONNA FREAKING DESTROY YOU!”

I literally dropped the mic after I said that, the feedback a shrill shriek that nobody liked. It was painful to listen to, but nearly as painful as my own words had been for me to hear. I marched away, fists balled, hating every fiber of my being with an intensity that made my hatred for Nate Haverfield feel like nothing in comparison.

The noise all fell away behind me as I marched back into the pit, dragging Poly on a sledge behind me. I could barely hear anything, barely feel anything, barely even register everything.

I put Poly down in my workstation, and I walked away, not sure where I was going, knowing only that I wanted to escape from my own skin, hide from the identity I forged for myself over the course of this competition.

Chapter 11

Chapter Text

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read three chapters ahead on this story, twenty chapters ahead on "A Dream of Summer Rain", and two chapters ahead on "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

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Thank you so much for your continued support of my work! Every little bit helps me to keep going :)

And now, back to our regularly scheduled nerdy romcom shenanigans!

***

Zeke

24 Hours Earlier

I walked down the aisle of a RadioShack in Northridge. I’d meant to come here earlier to scavenge for parts, but I’d let myself pass out on the couch again texting with Kate all night. It was like… The third night in a row where that had happened. She sent me a meme, then I sent her one back, then she sent me another one…

This had been happening basically nonstop since we hung out earlier in the week. And it was… It was…

It felt great.

But there was a part of me that wasn’t okay with how great it felt. Kate was part of the competition, and besides… Part of me felt like I was betraying Faith by hanging out with Kate so much, by starting to…

The other night we’d been watching Gundam and laughed at the same profoundly stupid bit of unintentional comedy. She’d laughed first, as if she’d stumbled upon her favorite sort of inside joke, and it was just infectious. She giggled, and I started laughing with her, and it fed into each other, and we wound up having to pause the show so we could both laugh. Her dad wound up knocking on the door and asking if we were both okay, and that just made us laugh harder.

The night had worn on, and she kept stealing glances over at me. I don’t think she knew I noticed, but… She was looking at me with these great big puppy dog eyes, sparkling blue even in the dim lighting of her bedroom.

She’d done all this for me. She’d invited me into her home, into her bedroom no less, and gotten gussied up for me. I never used to notice stuff like that, until Faith came out and she started dressing up more, had us start doing that as part of our gimmick. Now I… I realized that Kate didn’t have to dress up and put on makeup and do her hair for me, but she had. And she couldn’t stop staring at me, smiling whenever I smiled.

When she stopped laughing, she was leaning against my shoulder. I didn’t do anything to correct that. She was… Not what I’d expected. She was warm and soft and sweet, with a beautiful smile and a beautiful laugh. We found the same stupid stuff funny, and talking to her was… Easy.

Easier than talking to Faith.

I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Objectively, I knew I’d been repressing some latent attraction to Faith for a while now, but she didn’t like guys, and besides, we worked together and lived together, so it would just be awkward if anything went wrong.

And when I looked at Kate that night, I… I felt something, and I was worried it was stronger than what I felt for Faith. But that’s ridiculous- I had to be projecting my feelings for Faith onto Kate. I didn’t know her nearly as well, and…

That was when my phone rang as I walked down the sterile white tile floor of the RadioShack, combing through shelves of electronics. It was Kate. Because of course it was.

“Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”

“Well… I… Ran into Faith today,” she said, in her practiced, high-pitched voice. She was getting better at it, and I was proud of her for working at it so consistently even when she still wasn’t ready to completely admit she was trans.

I stopped dead in my tracks. “Did you?”

“Yeah. She came into my parents’ shop,” Kate said. “I was, uh, in girl-mode.”

“How… Did that go?” I asked, choking on my own dread.

“Really well,” Kate said. “She gave me some pointers on my voice. We talked about work, clothes, and cute girls.”

“Oh!” I said, a massive surge of relief going through me. “That’s great!”

“Yeah, we both decided that she and I should try to get along if you and I are gonna…”

She trailed off, and I swore I heard my pulse racketing up with each second I waited for her to finish that sentence. Finally, I bit the bullet and said, “Gonna what?”

“... I’m not sure yet,” she replied. “What do you want me to say?”

The words nearly choked me, but I managed to spit them out: “I’m not sure yet either.”

“That’s fair,” she said. “Well then… We can figure it out together.”

I smiled. “I like this plan.”

“I’m excited to be a part of it,” she finished for me.

“Yeah,” I said. “And hey- if nothing else, I like having you as a friend.”

“Same,” she said.

And honestly, in that moment, it was all she needed to say.

***

I noticed Kate’s hands trembling as she left the battle box, and I leaned forward inside the dugout as she walked- practically ran- back into the pit.

“We should check on her,” Faith said.

“Yeah,” I said.

We both stood up and rushed after her, dodging Team Flipper wheeling their bot through the tunnel for their match with Team Jolly Roger. We made it to the end of the tunnel before I heard a familiar voice call out, “Guys, wait up a sec!”

I froze, and so did Faith.

I turned around slowly, and so did Faith.

Olivia was walking towards us down the tunnel.

My eyes went wide as I put myself between my best friend and her ex-girlfriend. “What do you want?”

Olivia was taken aback, but she stopped in front of me and said, “I just-”

“Actually, I don’t care,” I snapped. “Just get out of here-”

“Let her talk,” Faith said in a hollow voice, slowly walking forward with her eyes aimed strictly at the floor.

I heaved an angry sigh through my nose, and then moved aside and let Faith face Olivia.

“Hi, Faith,” Olivia said.

My eyes bulged with shock at the sound of Olivia using Faith’s real name, and Faith’s head snapped up and she locked eyes on Olivia instantly. “Hi, Liv.”

“I just wanted to say,” Olivia said, “That it was a good fight. And I’m sorry for how I acted before. And how I acted tonight. I didn’t mean to go all ice queen on you, I just… I froze up when I saw you, saw how… Beautiful you looked. I felt horrible. And I was too cowardly to face you, to say anything to you. I guess… I dunno, I guess hearing Calloway decide to put a target on my back made me realize I’d gone too far. Like, if that idiot thinks I came off as a heel, I probably came off as a real heel. And I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but… I hope eventually that maybe you will.”

Faith was too stunned to speak. She let her jaw hang loose while she stood there, but eventually, she managed a gracious nod.

Relief surged through me once again, to an almost incomprehensible level.

“That’s all I had to say,” Olivia said. “Like I said, good fight. I’ll see you both around.”

And with that, she walked away.

Faith still didn’t say anything, but once Olivia had vanished from sight, she turned around, and I saw the happiest, purest smile I’d ever seen from her spring to life on her face while tears of what had to be joy leaked out of her eyes.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Faith said. “I think… I think I’m okay.”

“Good,” I smiled.

“Let’s go find Kate,” Faith said.

She darted off down the tunnel, and I chased after her.

We scoured the pit looking for Kate, doing a full circuit before we came back to the empty swath where her workstation had been. We looked, and looked, and we couldn’t find her.

“Excuse me? Zeke? Faith?” came another familiar voice.

I heard Faith mutter ‘milf’ under her breath as Mrs. Calloway came up to us.

“Have you seen… You know?” I asked.

“Yes. She’s in a state, though. I think you should talk to her, Zeke,” Mrs. Calloway said.

“Uh… I… I dunno if I’m qualified,” I said. “Faith though-”

“Both of you, then,” Mrs. Calloway said. “Please, come with me.”

Faith nodded, and so did I.

We followed her out of the arena, and into that side parking lot once again. It all came back to here. A damn parking lot. Wasn’t sure what to do with that information, but I had more important things to worry about.

Mrs. Calloway guided us over to Kate’s black pick-up truck. Mr. Calloway was there, leaning against the back of it. Kate sat in the trunk, curled into a fetal position, head on her knees, not moving or saying anything.

Mr. Calloway walked up to me and put an arm on my shoulder. “She asked for you specifically. Please be careful with her, young man.”

I nodded, the unspoken implication of ‘if you hurt her, I’ll kill you and make it look like an accident’ ringing loud and clear.

“Same to you, miss,” he said to Faith. Fair enough- Kate must have told them about her and Faith’s… More antagonistic relationship.

I leaned against the back of the trunk and looked at the person… The girl curled up inside it. Her eyes were wide and glassy. “Hey.”

She grunted.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I…,” Kate trailed off. “I did it again.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “You won a fight- isn’t that a good thing?”

“Not that,” Kate said, finally blinking and making eye contact with me. Those eyes, those beautiful eyes, they just… Looked so defeated. “I went too far. I… I did what I always do, but I went too far this time.”

“But you hate Haverfield,” I said, furrowing my brow.

“Yeah, but when I did what I did, I felt like… I felt like somebody else. And I didn’t like that person,” Kate said. “It felt like someone else’s skin was on me and it felt disgusting. I felt disgusting. It doesn’t make sense- I used to do this all the time and felt nothing.”

“Nothing?” Faith said, climbing into the trunk with Kate and sitting down next to her.

“Yeah, it was just… Something I did. I would go hammy and act all tough and antagonistic and… And…”

“Macho?” Faith offered.

“... Maybe a little.”

“A little?” Faith co*cked an eyebrow.

“... A lot,” Kate said.

“And now when you do that, it stings, doesn’t it? Like you’re putting on a mask that doesn’t fit you anymore?” Faith said.

“Yeah,” Kate said.

That was when it clicked for me- just how much of an act Kate’s heel routine truly had been, and that maybe… She hadn’t actually enjoyed it that much, she just didn’t know how to stop. Like there hadn’t been any other options she’d been aware of, but now…

I climbed into the trunk too, and Faith and I flanked Kate on both sides. An instinct, and impulse, ran through me, an electric understanding that I needed to put my arm around her. Every part of me wanted to, but… Something stopped me. Like it was a line I was too afraid to cross, that now wasn’t the right moment, that-

Kate tilted to the side and leaned against my arm. My eyes bulged and I blinked rapidly, unsure of what to do. Faith’s face went through an identical journey, and I could see gears turning inside her head.

Then she nodded at me, and gestured to my arm, the electric sensation came back, guided my arm around Kate’s shoulder and brought her close, held her tight. She was warm, and she was big, but she felt so damn small. I knew she was strong, but at that moment, I knew she was letting herself be fragile and vulnerable.

It was crazy, how much she’d opened up to me, and so quickly, but the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. She needed someone outside her family, someone who she could trust implicitly as she figured out her true self and started showing it to the rest of the world. Faith had known me for years when she’d come out, but Calloway and I… We’d mostly just avoided each other. I’d kept to myself last season- Faith and Olivia were the power couple face of our team, I was just a weirdo hanger-on. But Kate had been alone.

And she’d opened up to me. Not entirely on purpose, but… The real her, underneath the surface, was a lot more delicate than the rough and tumble exterior would suggest. Showing that to someone, let alone someone who’d cursed you out in this exact same spot, must have been terrifying. But as far as she was concerned, I’d done everything right, and she’d made a friend. She trusted me.

I had to do everything in my power not to betray that trust. And I had to do everything in my power to keep that beautiful, fragile girl who was finally stepping into the light after a lifetime stumbling around in the dark safe and happy.

“What’s going through your head right now, Katie?” I asked.

Her cheek was pressed into my ribcage. Her parents had stepped away, her dad looming with his back turned a dozen yards off while her mother had darted off somewhere else. For practical purposes, it was just the three of us. “I feel like I don’t deserve to go by that name.”

“Don’t be ridiculous- of course you do,” Faith said.

“But I… I’m not good at being a girl. I act all and angry and aggressive and loud and obnoxious to get attention-”

“I hate to break this to you, but none of those are inherently masculine traits,” Faith said.

“And it served its purpose for you,” I said. “It got you where you needed to go. But you don’t need to be that person anymore.”

“Then why did I fall back on it like that?” Kate whispered. “Why did I fall back on being an asshole without even thinking?”

“You were… You were upset,” I said. “Haverfield got under your skin. It happens.”

“It shouldn’t happen.”

“So, what, you expect to be perfect all the time?” I asked. “That’s not how it works.”

“He’s right,” Faith said. “You’re… Look, you’re never going to be a perfect picture of femininity all the time, but neither is anyone else.”

“Maybe I… Maybe I want to be,” Kate said. “Do I deserve to be? To have that opportunity? Why should someone like me get to be that, ever?”

“Because it’s what you want,” I said. “And you’re good at it. Look, I know you’re not… A hundred percent convinced yet, but you’re really good at being a girl. It comes naturally to you. And you’ve just gone right for it. It’s the same with this job- you told me you had to put yourself through community college and save every penny to build your robot, and you did all that yourself.”

“I had help.”

“Everyone always does,” I said. “What’s important is that you went for what you want on your own terms. That’s who you are and I… I admire that about you.”

“You… You do?” She said, looking up at me with those big, hopeful, sparkling blue eyes.

“Yeah,” I said. “I… I spent my whole childhood doing whatever my parents wanted me to do. If I didn’t obey them completely at all times, they came down on me like a ton of bricks, always telling me how I’d only be good enough to hack it if I did exactly what they said. Even when I finally disobeyed them and joined the robotics team in college, it wasn’t even my idea- Faith and Olivia asked me to join because they wanted someone else to help out. You’ve got a drive that most people don’t, Kate. And it’s really something special. So, if you want to be Kate, I know that you’ll go for it. And you’ll be…”

“... What?”

“Even more amazing and beautiful than you are already,” I said, astonished at my boldness. When the hell did I get this articulate? I believed every word I was saying, but I usually had more of a filter than this.

That was when I noticed Faith had scampered off somewhere. It was just Kate and I in that trunk. Her father had gotten even further away, giving us…

All the time and space we needed.

“I… I think I don’t want to be Keith anymore,” Kate said. “I thought I did, but he just feels… Like someone I don’t need to be anymore, and like someone I don’t know why I ever wanted to be.”

“So, what do you want?” I asked.

“I want to be Kate, even if I don’t deserve to be her.”

“You deserve it,” I said. “You’re not a bad person. You just get a little carried away sometimes. Everyone does.”

“Thank you,” she said, snuggling my chest.

An iron spike of shame tore through my heart, shattering the bliss. There was a part of me, an irrational one, that felt like I was betraying Faith. But Faith wasn’t into me like that; if she was, she surely would have told me by now. There was nothing to betray. And she’d given us space just now to…

To…

“There’s one other thing I want,” Kate said. “But I’m not sure if I should go for it.”

“I feel like you will anyway,” I said, my heartbeat skyrocketing.

“I really wanna kiss you,” she said.

I gulped, my chest tightening and fireworks going off in my mind. “I… I wanna kiss you too,” I said, the words slipping free before I could stop them. “But I’m not sure… I don’t think now’s the time. You were just having a panic attack, and I’d feel like I was taking advantage of you.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “That’s very reasonable. I understand completely.”

“Thank you.”

“But… I think I’m catching feelings for you, Zeke,” she said. “I didn’t expect to- I didn’t even realize I liked guys until pretty recently. It’s all so new to me still, but… You helped me realize who I am. And you’re so kind and respectful and goofy and laid-back and… And handsome and it… And you…”

My impulses betrayed me, and I kissed her on the top of her head, the lavender scent of her shampoo wafting through my nose. “How’s that for a compromise?” I said. “Because I think I might be catching feelings for you too.”

“And you’re smooth, too,” she said. “Dammit. That’s perfect. This is… For right now, this is perfect.”

“We can figure the rest out together,” I said.

She smiled at me, as if it were all I’d needed to say.

“Can we stay here like this a little longer?” she asked.

“As long as you want,” I said, holding her close.

I knew I needed to get back to Faith, but… Goddammit, in that moment, I never wanted to leave this spot, never wanted to let Kate go.

Chapter 12

Chapter Text

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

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And now, back to our regularly scheduled nerdy romcom shenanigans!

***

Faith

12 Months earlier

I stood with my hands jammed into my pocket, Olivia putting her hand on my shoulder and Zeke glaring at Calloway across the stage. I made eye contact with Calloway briefly while he mugged for the camera, Marty keeping him busy as he talked about how he’d ‘annihilated us.’

“-But yeah, that’s why I’m gonna win the championship this year,” Calloway said with a smug grin plastered to his stupid face.

“You are definitely becoming a favored underdog, but so are your opponents,” Marty pointed out. “Aren’t you worried about TeamDai Gurrencoming back with a vengeance?”

“No, I think one-shotting them tonight was a good indicator of the quality-gap between us,” Calloway said.

I grinded my teeth together as the microphone was brought over to us. Olivia, bless her, took point for the interview. “So, what happened tonight?” Marty asked.

“Calloway definitely took us by surprise- we had no ideaPolyphemuswas that fast, or that it could hit that hard,” Olivia said diplomatically.

“And what about your own performance?”

“I mean it wasn’t much of a performance, was it?” Olivia said with an awkward laugh. “We didn’t get out the gate fast enough, and Calloway got a lucky shot in-”

“Cheap shot,” I said under my breath. Calloway had sprinted right for us the instant the fight started, faster than any of us were prepared for. Olivia started to swerve out of the way, but that just meantPolyphemus’ax caught us on our right wheel axis and severed the tires clean off. Along with our break wires. We wound up careening directly into the screws, not able to stop while we got caught under it and then got counted out.

“A lucky shot,” Olivia insisted.

I spaced out the rest of the interview, stewing in frustration as my ill-fitting clothes swung around the body I hated. The team and I hauled our amputee victim of a bot back into the pits, where, surprise surprise, we found Calloway humming and working on his machine.

“Hi,” he chirped. “Great fight, guys!”

“You already won, there’s no need to be passive-aggressive,” I snarled.

“I’m not being passive-aggressive, I just had a good time,” Calloway said, furrowing his brow. He stepped forward, away from his work station and towards ours.

Olivia stood behind me, already zoning into work. I wanted to as well, but I couldn’t get my mind off of this Calloway being a raging tool one minute and a happy little himbo the next.

Zeke put himself between Calloway and I, grabbed Calloway by the shoulders and stared directly at him. “Dude. You’re giving off real mixed signals. Dial it back. And give us all some space. Please.”

Calloway… Blinked. Then he looked away, down at his shoes. I co*cked (heh. co*ck) my head in confusion while I watched the scene play out.

“Okay,” Calloway said in a soft, quiet voice.

“Good,” Zeke said, letting go of his shoulders and turning around.

I watched Calloway stand there another moment. He seemed to refuse to make eye contact with me, and finally, after a moment, he turned around and went to work on his machine.

Finally, I did the same.

Always last to act.

***

Now

I slid back against the surface of the wall and sobbed. I’d read the signs, because they were loud and clear even to me, so I made myself leave. I hiked around to the back parking lot and just… Just…

I didn’t even make it back to my car before I started crying.

He liked her. And she clearly liked him. Why the hell wouldn’t she? I certainly couldn’t blame her. The only one I could blame was myself for waiting too long.

I thought back to the night Calloway… Kate gave us our first defeat. I still got mad about that fight sometimes, still got annoyed at myself for losing to cheap shot like that, still got annoyed at Olivia for not moving fast enough. But that wasn’t the point; the point was that… When Zeke had put himself between me and Kate, when my own girlfriend wouldn’t do the same… That was the moment I started becoming attracted to him. And looking back on it… It was probably the same for Kate.

I always waited too long. I could have come out in high school or college, transitioned younger. I could have been competing in robotics younger too.

I could have told Zeke how I felt about him any time in the past year.

So why the hell hadn’t I? Because I wanted him to do everything for me?

I buried my face in my hands and wept, feeling my makeup running off my visage while the warm night air of late June grew colder around me.

“You okay?”

I yanked my hands away from my face and looked up, where, to my horror, Olivia stood. “Do I look okay?” I said bitterly.

“No, you look like you’re in an absolute state,” Olivia said.

“Still not one to mince words, I see,” I said.

“It’s part of my charm,” Olivia said.

“Yeah. Sure it is.”

“Ouch,” Olivia winced.

“... Sorry, I just…”

“May I sit?”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead,” I said.

She sat next to me on the grass pressing against the outer wall of the building. “So, are you just broken up about losing tonight, or is this about me-”

“No, to both,” I said.

“Is it Zeke?” Olivia asked.

“...”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Olivia said.

“What does?” I asked, dreading the answer.

“You like him,” Olivia said.

“... Am I that obvious?” I said, my chest deflating.

“No, actually you’re not,” Olivia said. “It was just something I picked up on from the way you two have been interacting this year. Plus, you gush about him on instagram sometimes, posting pictures of the two of you together… I kinda just figured you were already dating, to be honest.”

“We’re… Definitely not,” I said. “There’s… There’s someone else. A girl named Kate. And Zeke has been spending all his time with her lately. They’re spending time together right now, actually. Getting real close and cuddled up. I made a retreat because I… Didn’t wanna be a third wheel.”

“That’s… Honestly shocking to hear,” Olivia said.

“What, that I actually had the social intuition to make myself scarce?”

“No. Well, yes. But also, that he’s interested in someone else.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m not. Zeke followed you around like a lovesick puppy even when he thought you were a boy. You asked him to join our team and he said yes without even having to think about it. He was instantly supportive when you came out- which is certainly more than I can say. Plus… He’s incredibly protective of you, dresses up and dances with you when you two win fights… That’s all a lot for someone who just sees you as a friend.”

I blinked rapidly, a million interactions taking on a new context as the final proverbial horse crossed the finish line. “Dammit.”

“The question, though, is- does he know you like him?”

“I… I mean I’ve never told him directly-”

“Then he doesn’t know.”

“What do you mean he doesn’t know- if it’s so obvious-”

“Because- and I feel like you already know this, but I’ll just give you a reminder- most guys who were, ya know, raised by parents, constantly get the message drilled into them that just because a girl hangs out with them doesn’t mean she’s into them romantically. And Zeke’s parents, if you recall… Well they tend to assume the worst. Always.”

“God, they really do,” I said, clenching my jaw and speaking through my teeth.

“So, if you haven’t told him, and he hasn’t done anything that would indicate he knows… He probably just assumes you only see him as a friend. I mean, hell- does he even know you’re into guys?”

“...”

“Have you ever been watching a movie or a show together and been like ‘wow that guy is super hot?’ Just to, like, get the information out there that you’re into fellas?” Olivia asked.

I said, “No, because he has low self-esteem and I don’t want him to feel insecure and ohgoddammithe has literally no idea. The possibility that I like him back has probably never even occurred to him.”

“And this Kate girl, I’m guessing she’s a bit more on the direct side?”

“I think so, yeah,” I said, bunching my legs together and squeezing them against my chest. “She was the one who asked him out earlier this week, and she’s the one who started cuddling up to him a few minutes ago… Dammit. I just… I kept waiting for him to make the first move because it sounded so… Nice! Being the one who gets courted for once-”

“‘Courted’ wow, you really are old fashioned, aren’t you?”

“Apparently, yeah,” I said. “It just seemed… Affirming.”

“Fair enough. But you gotta admit, with Zeke specifically… That probably wasn’t the best course of action.”

I nodded. “What should I do?”

“Are you seriously asking me of all people for advice about your boy problems?”

“... I see your point.”

“That being said, I do wanna make things up to you, given how awful I was,” Olivia said, cracking her knuckles. “Way I see it, you got two options: option one- tell Zeke how you feel, and put the ball in his court. He and this Kate girl have only started getting close to each other in the past week, that means it’s all still new enough that there’s no guarantee it will last. If you’re lucky, he sees the whole situation as a case of the girl he’s actually loved the whole time finally telling him you can be together, and he breaks it off with the girl who’s, yeah sure, new and exciting and forward, but whom he doesn’t have as strong a connection to.”

“And if I’m not lucky?” I asked.

“Oh, he decides that you waited too long to tell him, that it’s not cool to wait until he’s found someone else to spring this on him. It’ll probably make things horrifically awkward between you two, which is, uh, not great in the middle of tournament season.”

I sighed and looked up, trying to peer through the smog and light pollution blocking out the stars. “What’s option two?”

“Do nothing,” Olivia said, standing up and facing me. “Say nothing. Keep all of this to yourself. Swallow your feelings till they go away on their own. It’ll take a while, and it will hurt, but… If you really care about him, you’ll want him to be happy on his own terms. Even if it’s with someone who’s not you. Be honest with me- are you okay with that?”

“... I wanna say yes. I really wanna say yes,” I said, my guilt and shame a dumpster fire burning inside my chest and releasing noxious fumes.

“You need to do better than that,” Olivia said. “If you’re not sure, then you’re gonna drive yourself crazy by not telling him. Especially if she’s not a good fit for him. Do you think she is?”

“I… Also wanna say yes to that, but to be honest, me and this girl don’t have a great history. We’ve been patching things up lately but… Not a great precedent.”

“That certainly complicates things,” Olivia said. She offered me a hand up, and I took it. “But you’re smart. You’ll figure it out.”

“Thanks,” I said. “For everything.”

“Just doing what needs to be done,” Olivia said with a smile. “I should probably get back to my team, finish up repairs for the night. You take care of yourself- and let me know if you need a shoulder to cry on about all this!”

“Will do!”

And with that, I watched her walk away from me again, but this time… I was okay with how we left things.

I sat there a few more minutes, then wiped off my messy makeup and looped back around to the Calloway clan and the man I pined for. Kate had changed clothes- I assumed her mom had brought a dress for her and that was what she’d gone to get. She and Zeke were standing next to each other with very little spacing separating them, but at least they weren’t cuddling anymore.

Kate leaped towards me and said, “Faith!”

“Hey,” I said, “You’re in a better mood.”

“Yeah,” she smiled, radiating a palpable warmth and giddiness, her eyes shimmering in the light of the streetlamp above. “Can I hug you?”

“Uh… Sure?” I said, wishing to God I’d said no.

She wrapped her arms around me and giggled. “I’m trans, Faith. I’m trans!”

“Yeah, I kinda figured that,” I said. She wasn’t letting go of me, but her hug was… Not unpleasant. Her happiness was almost infectious. “Good for you.”

“Thanks. And, uh, I was wondering if you could help me with something?”

“... Depends on what it is.”Please don’t say ‘advice about Zeke’, I am begging you to say literally anything else-

“Can you help me with my voice?”

“Oh, uh… Sure. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Eeeee! Thank you thank you thank you so so so much!” she said, exuberance pouring through her and into me. She pulled away from the hug and looked me in the eyes, smiling wider than I’d ever thought possible, a smile that wasn’t a sneer or a smug grin or one that was in any way, shape, or form punchable. She was just… Happy, and pure. She was… Adorable, honestly.

Her face was very close to mine- I don’t think she even realized it, given how bad she’d always been about personal space. But I had to admit it, she was cute, and the look Zeke was giving her told me he was thinking the same thing.

Dammit.

Chapter 13

Chapter Text

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read three chapters ahead on this story, twenty chapters ahead on "A Dream of Summer Rain", and two chapters ahead on "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

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Thank you so much for your continued support of my work! Every little bit helps me to keep going :)

And now, back to our regularly scheduled nerdy romcom shenanigans!

***

Kate

“So, you’re going by Kate now, and say that you’re trans?” Dr. Chopra, my general practitioner, said. She was a stout middle-aged with a happy face and black hair threaded with gray and worn in a long braid. I’d called to make an appointment as soon as I’d gotten home from the fight on Friday, and miraculously, an opening was there for Monday morning.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s right,” I said, nodding happily. I wore a short-sleeved light blue blouse and a knee-length red skirt and a face full of makeup, my strappy-sandal clad feet dangling on the side of the patient platform.

“Would you like me to refer you to an endocrinologist, then? We have one here at the clinic who specializes in gender affirming care. Should be covered by your insurance.”

“Yes please!”

“Sounds good! Let’s get your bloodwork done today, make sure everything is on the up and up, and the endocrinologist should be able to prescribe you Estradiol and Spironolactone so long as everything comes back okay. You should also give some thought to freezing some sperm, if you want to have biological kids someday.”

“Hm, alright then,” I said. “Makes sense.”

“Anything else I can do for you today?”

“No, that’s everything. Thank you so much!”

With the easy appointment done, it was time to move onto the hard one: the meeting with my sponsor.

Mr. Gaines did a double-take when I walked into his office an hour later. “What’s, uh, what’s going on here, Calloway?”

“I’m trans,” I said simply.

“Hm.”

“Hm?”

“Hm. You’re trans. So you didn’t lose a bet?”

“... No,” I said, an ugly, icy feeling coating my esophagus.

“This isn’t a bit?”

“No,” I said, redirecting my eyes to the floor as I sat down on the uncomfortable plastic chair.

“You’re trans?”

“I’m trans,” I said, trying to swallow the guilt and shame that was saturating my being.

“Hm.”

“What… What does that mean? In this context, what does ‘hm’ mean?”

“Well, to be blunt, it means I’m ambivalent about all this.”

“Oh?” I said, my voice dropping into a lower octave. I had to stop myself from clamping my hand over my mouth.

“On the one hand, supporting you will be seen as supporting trans rights, which may alienate some of my clientele,” Gaines said flatly.

“Oh.”

“On the other hand,” Gaines continued, “It could open up new markets for me with more socially progressive types. Given I’m hoping to expand into NorCal, that might not be a bad thing.”

“Oh,” I said. Where was he going with this…?

“Hm, well, I suppose the only way out is through,” Gaines said.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I’ll need your help to sell this.”

“What is ‘this?’”

He gestured at all of me and said, “This. This whole… Gimmick.”

“It’s not a gimmick, it’s my identity,” I said, eyes narrowing.

“Right, yeah,” Gaines said. “How would you feel about becoming our spokesperson, maybe doing a photoshoot for our social media page?”

“Uh… I…,” did not like where this was going.

“I would also need you to write up a mission statement for all this that I can use to promote you as my client, make it clear that I stand with you, that my gym/garage doesn’t tolerate discrimination on the basis of sex, yada yada yada, all that touchy-feely woke bullsh*t. The hippies in this town will eat it up.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Just something to think about,” he said. “Look, I’m taking a risk by holding onto you as a client. I need you to work with me.”

“That… That makes sense,” I said, ignoring the weird feeling of being treated like an object. Was this gonna be a thing from now on?

“I’m gonna put you in touch with my social media guru, Nadine; she’ll help you with this whole… Image adjustment you’re going through.”

“You know you can just say ‘transition’, right?” I said, groaning internally as it slipped out.

“Yeah, but that’s personal- right now we’re talking business, kid,” Gaines said.

“Right,” I said in monotone.

The meeting wrapped up, and I left the place with an uncomfortable feeling of being used sitting in my gut like a rock. He wasn’t wrong per se, I did have my career to consider, and as a businessman, he had a right to view things that way. And he was my sponsor, not my friend- it made sense for him to think about what our professional relationship would be going forward.

Still. He didn’t have to be so damn blunt about it.

I hopped in my truck and drove myself home for my final appointment of the day. When I pulled into the driveway, Faith was already there leaning against her SUV, an old antique of a car painted red and blue with white stars on the doors. It had a bumper sticker on it labeled ‘Star Rocket Racer.’ She leaned against the hood, wearing a plaid miniskirt, wedge-heeled black boots, and a v-neck light blue t-shirt with the comic book character Stargirl on it. Her long black hair was worn loosely about her shoulders, her makeup immaculate, silver hoop earrings dangling from her ears. A necklace dangled above her cleavage, which… Oh wow, cleavage.

It was, uh…

I’d been so busy fawning over Zeke lately I’d barely noticed how pretty Faith had gotten. And she’d gotten really freaking pretty- the kind of pretty I wished (probably in vain) that I might be after a year on HRT.

“Hey, girl,” she said. It made my heart sing, just hearing that. She was a girl and I was a girl- we were both trans girls and that was lovely. It was like she was telling me personally ‘you’re valid and you’re trans and you’renota pervert with a fetish.’ Honestly, after that business meeting, I needed it.

“Hey,” I smiled, going in for the hug. She stiffened briefly, but then patted my back and returned the hug.

“How’d the appointment go?” she asked as I led her into the back door and up the stairs to my family’s apartment.

“It was good! I’ll hopefully be able to start on E and Spiro by the end of the week!”

“Fantastic!”

“Did it go this fast for you?”

“Eh, sorta? My parents are in the Army… Kinda, anyway. So I had to go through the government. The waitlist was a couple months but once I actually got in for the appointment they gave me the pills that day.”

“Hm, interesting. I didn’t know that about you,” I said as we walked into the kitchen, a small alcove in the apartment, wooden floors and a round wooden table punctuating the end of the cramped space where the stove and the refrigerator were all bunched together. The fridge was a mass of family photos, or at least it used to be- Mom had taken down the ones with the old me in them after Friday night, and then attached a picture of me en femme with a clip-magnet. ‘The first of many’ as she’d put it. Right now it was just Mom and Dad’s wedding photos and a few baby pictures of me group around the thus-far only physical snapshot of Kate, but given how many selfies I’d taken in the past week, that was sure to change rapidly. “Are you an Army brat then?”

“Like I said, kinda,” Faith answered. “They’re in the Engineering Corps- my dad is enlisted but my mom is technically a civilian contractor- so we moved around a lot when I was growing up. But when I was in high school they both got steady positions teaching at Westpoint, so I wound up mostly just living there. I didn’t come to LA until college- my parents seemed kinda upset I didn’t wanna go to Westpoint, but they were still glad I wanted to be an engineer.”

“I see, I see,” I said, reaching into the fridge and pulling out a pitcher of ice water and putting it on the table. I retrieved two cylindrical glasses from the cupboard and set them down too, then poured us each a tall glass of water. “Clink,” I said, tapping my glass against hers.

She chuckled, then clinked me back and took a long sip. “So you and your folks live and work here? Like inBob’s Burgers?”

“Lol, I guess,” I said, tucking an errant strand of hair behind my ears. “My folks started this shop together using the money they got from their wedding. I came around a year later, so this is just all I’ve ever known.”

“Huh, interesting. There’s a lot we don’t know about each other, huh?”

I shrugged, then sipped my water.

“Anyway,” Faith said, “You ready?”

I smiled, then nodded eagerly.

Faith said, “Okay, so the key is to talk using the top of your throat. Start by saying something, draw out the syllables, and concentrate on making it so you’re speaking from your mouth instead of your chest. Don’t try to just pitch up, but focus on where the intonation is coming from. Try to hold it in your mouth and then release the words. If it helps, try speaking as you breathe out. Start slow, get the basics down, then work on speaking at a rate that’s more natural to you.”

I nodded, then drew in a deep breath and hummed a low note. I let it work its way up into my throat, and tried to make it come from my mouth instead of my chest.

“Good,” Faith said, sitting down in her chair. “Now try saying ‘who are you?’ Remember to go slowly.”

“Whoooo… Are… Youuuu?” I said, the words coming out breathy and a bit higher than they had before. I smiled, my eyes going wide as I shimmied in my seat.

Faith chuckled again. “Not bad. So. Who are you?”

“I’m… Katherine… Miranda… Calloway,” I said, liking the way it sounded. “Kate for short.” My words dipped lower again at the last sentence, and I realized I said it too quickly after inhaling, not letting it flow out with my breath like last time. My face scrunched up, and my hands bunched together.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Faith said, putting a hand on my elbow, her palm soft and her fingers delicate and beautifully manicured. “Just keep going, it’s okay.”

I nodded, feeling warmer at her touch, uncurling my fingers and opening my eyes. “Kate for shooorrttt,” I said, drawing out the final word so I could appreciate how it sounded.

“Not Katie?” Faith asked.

“I… Like… Being called Katie… By people who I love, and who love me. Like my… Parents,” I said, slowly and carefully speaking as I exhaled and then giving myself time to draw in a new breath.

“I’ve noticed Zeke call you that too,” Faith said, withdrawing her hand from my arm and breaking off eye contact. “Does that mean you love him?”

I felt myself blush as a mental image of Zeke bridal-carrying me while I wore a white gown echoed through my mind. A dreamy sigh escaped my lips, and I smiled, but I shook my head. Best not to get ahead of myself. “I… Wouldn’t… Go that far.”

“But you do like him, right?” Faith asked.

“I… I do,” I said, my voice going extra high as I said it, the proverbial butterflies in my stomach flapping their wings once again.

“I’m guessing that was what you two were talking about the other night,” Faith said, looking at the floor. “Good for you guys, though. Seriously.”

“What do… You mean?”

“... You’re dating now, right?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” I said hurriedly, waving my hands about, my voice dropping lower again. Faith looked at me again, and gestured for me to keep going. I drew in a deep breath, let it sit in my chest a moment, and focused on keeping my words at the top of my throat. “I… We just cuddled in the back of my truck. I told him I’m starting to crush on him. That’s it.”

“And what did he say?” Faith said, leaning forward expectantly.

“He said… He’s starting to catch feelings too,” I replied. “That’s it. Nothing else has… Has come of it yet. We’re still talking a lot and texting a lot, but yeah.”

“That’s it?” Faith said. “Hold up, hold up, hold up- a handsome, intelligent, charming, thoughtful, gentlemanly guy who likes basically all the same nerdy sh*t as you told you that he’s crushing on you, and youhaven’t locked it down yet?”

I squinted. That was a lot of adjectives she’d used just now. A questionable amount of adjectives for someone to use when describing a platonic friend. “I mean… I wanted to kiss him, but he said it wouldn’t be appropriate because I’d just been having a panic attack.”

“God, that’s just like him,” Faith said, rolling her eyes. “He’s just so freaking… Upstanding and polite about everything.”

“He really is,” I said, smiling. “He’s always thinking about what will make me comfortable and happy- it’s like he never spares a thought for himself.”

“Accommodating to a fault, that’s definitely him,” she said.

“Has he always been like that?”

“Always,” Faith nodded. “He’s always been a gentleman.”

“Has he always been a foxy nerd?”

“Oh, absolutely. Though, uh, that’s definitely been amplified of late. He’s started working out more in the past year- he’s got these sweet abs now, and a really cute butt-”

“Oh, I’ve noticed his butt. And his smile. And the-”

“The gun show?” Faith giggled. “He’s got those big, broad, hunky shoulders now. Makes for a great viewing experience, lemme tell you.”

I tilted my head to the side. I’d already figured out that Zeke was into Faith- it was honestly part of my reluctance to treat what he and I had as anything serious- I didn’t wanna feel like a replacement for the girl he couldn’t have. But that had been me assuming that Faith was a lesbian. If she wasn’t… Then why the hell weren’t they together? What was stopping it? Me?

On the other hand, if I was what was stopping it, did that mean that Zeke didn’t see me as the second-choice? That he actually liked me… For me?

I had to know. What did Zeke actually look for in a partner? And if it was just ‘Faith, or someone like Faith’, and she liked him back, then why was he even bothering with me? And hell, if she liked him back, why was she tolerating any of this in the first place?

“Hey, uh,” I started, “Historically, what kinda girls has Zeke gone for?”

“Oh, uh, back during college it was just any girl who gave him the time of day,” Faith said. “Led to him getting stood up a lot, honestly. And getting into some toxic relationships. He’s into all types of girls- tomboys, girly girls, tall girls, short girls, whatever you can imagine. Nothing ever worked out, though… It was kinda hard to watch, you know? This sweet, intelligent, talented, witty guy-”

“With a hot body,” I said.

“With a very hot body,” Faith purred in agreement. Then she paused, her eyes bulging wider than dinner plates. “Uh… Objectively speaking, as a friend of his. I can say that.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, letting my voice go flat and masculine again for maximum effect. This certainly… Complicated things. “Sure, sure, sure.”

“I… Um…”

I stared at her while taking a long sip of my water.

“It’s not what you think,” Faith said.

“I didn’t say anything,” I said with a wry grin and half-opened eyes.

Faith drew in a deep breath through her nose. “So anyway, back to your lessons-”

I grabbed her hand. I heard her gulp. “Youlikehim.”

Faith opened her mouth. All that came out was a high-pitched squeak.

“Ohhh, wowwww,” I said, turning it into a vocal exercise. “You REALLY like him.”

“I-I-I-”

“I mean… It makes sense. He’s hot, nerdy, polite, funny-”

“He’s a great engineer, too,” Faith finally added.

“Indeed,” I said. “Does he know?”

“No,” Faith answered, drinking a large gulp of water.

“I see,” I said. A sinking feeling went through me. “Well, I should probably back off then.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you two clearly like each other, and I’m just a janie-come-lately,” I said, offering a sad smile.

“No, no, he… I mean-”

“I’ve seen how he looks at you,” I said. “I’m just the silver medal in this competition.”Same as always.

“And I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Faith said. “Trust me, you’re nobody’s second prize. He’s into you. He’s a romantic type- he’s probably gotten really swept up in the whole thing, just like you have. And I… Waited too long. I had a million opportunities to tell him how I felt, and I just didn’t capitalize on any of them because my stupid pride wanted to be on the receiving end of the courtship.”

“What are you saying?” I asked, putting my hands on her shoulders.

She gulped, then blushed. It made her look even cuter, which I didn’t think was possible. “You’re… So close right now.”

“Oh, sorry,” I said, pulling back.

“It’s, uh, it’s fine,” she said, tossing her hair back.

“So… Where does this leave us?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious,” Faith said. “I’m gonna back off. Zeke and I shouldn’t be compromising our professional relationship with romantic feelings anyway. And besides, you went for it, and he likes you back. I won’t get in the way.”

My head was spinning. This was almost too perfect- she was literally giving me everything I wanted out of a conversation I hadn’t even been planning to have. But at the same time… Faith’s slumped shoulders and downtrodden glance and practiced air of contentment told a story, and it was hard not to feel sad about that. “But that’s not fair to you,” I said.

She sighed again. “Kate… We’re already rivals at the tournament. Do you really wanna be romantic rivals, too? Because that feels like it could get ugly real fast.”

“I…,” I trailed off. What did I want? Well, I wanted to date Zeke, or at least go ona datewith him and see where it led us. But I also didn’t want to do anything to hurt Faith; she’d been through enough already, and I’d been responsible for some of that. She was accustomed to me being a jerk, and what could be a bigger jerk move then stealing the boy she liked? “I mean, I’d be dating the competition if Zeke and I went out.”

“Yeah. So?” Faith asked. “We aren’t Olympic athletes or anything- the stakes aren’t actually that high. If anything, there’s a greater risk of us getting toxic again if we’re competing over Zeke while competing in the tournament, and I… I like not hating you.”

A swell of emotion, equal parts happy and sad, pulsed through me. “I like not hating you too.”

She smiled again. “Good. So like I said- I’m gonna let whatever happens with you and Zeke happen without my interfering with it. It’s gonna hurt to watch, I’ll be totally honest with you, but… I want to be the bigger woman here. Genuinely, I do. And I want him to be happy. If you make him happy, then that’s… That’s good enough for me.”

I didn’t entirely believe her, but… I found myself nodding along. She was amazing, willing to just… Accept a situation like this while still wanting to be around me, still wanting to help me. Warm affection flowed through me with each beat of my fragile heart as I looked deep into her kind brown eyes. “Thank you. Seriously, thank you. That’s very mature of you, and I really appreciate it a lot.”

“Of course,” Faith said. “Anything for a friend.”

“Friends?” I said, leaning forward and smiling with my teeth.

“Friends,” she smiled back.

“Friends!” I said, fist-pumping. Then I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around her, shimmying more as I hugged her.

She gave a tired laugh as she hugged me back.

“Hey there, girls,” my dad said as he wandered up the stairs and pulled half a pastrami sandwich on a plate out of the fridge. “Whatcha up to?”

“Oh, you know, girl talk,” I said happily. “Boys, robots, that kinda thing.”

“Glad to hear it,” Dad said. “Katie, your mom and I are going out tonight with some friends of ours from college, so I trust you can take care of your own dinner?”

“Not a problem!” I said.

“If you wanna have Zeke over, that’s fine, just no drinking any of my beer- this house believes in bringing your own booze.”

I laughed. “Sure thing, Dad.”

“Good. Glad we could have this talk. You look lovely, by the way,” he said, giving me an affectionate pat on the head.

“Hmmm,” I intoned jovially.

Dad stepped out with his sandwich in hand.

That was when my phone went off, the gleeful twang of Kacey Musgraves emanating from the speakers. “Speak of the devil,” I said as I saw Zeke’s name on the caller ID. I answered the phone and said, “Hey, you.”

“Hey, Katie,” he said. I loved it when he called me that. “You busy tonight?”

“No, no plans at the moment,” I said. Faith watched with fascination, and mouthed, ‘go for it.’ “Why? Are you asking me on a date, Mr. Underhill?”

“That is, in fact, exactly what I’m doing, Ms. Calloway,” he said.

The butterflies flapping their wings in my stomach conjured a tornado. “Oh?”

“Dinner sound good?”

“Yeah, yeah that sounds amazing,” I said, hoping my smile conveyed through the phone, working extra hard to talk in a feminine register.

Faith gave me the thumbs-up.

“7 PM good?” he asked.

“Perfect.”

“Awesome! Would you mind picking me up? Faith has the car today and she never remembers to fill the tank back up on her way home.”

“Heh, yeah, I can do that. I’ll see you at seven.”

“Looking forward to it. See you then, pretty lady.”

I hung up, and I giggled and bounced up and down in my chair. “Eeeeeee!!!!”

Faith stood up and sighed wistfully. “Good for you, Katie.”

“Hey, watch it with the ‘Katie’ or I’ll think you’re in love with me as well,” I poked her cheek.

“Pfft, don’t flatter yourself, you’ll get a swell head,” she said, pushing my finger away. “Come on, let’s pick an outfit for your date.”

“Faith… You don’t have to do that. I appreciate you being chill about all this, but-”

“I want to,” Faith said. “Like I said, I want him to be happy, and that means you need to look as hot as humanly possible for tonight. And besides, I’d prefer you stay like this then go back to being all grumpy and hammy- you’re much cuter this way.”

She extended me a hand up, and I took it, rising and looking this wonderful, mature, helpful, pretty girl in her big brown eyes as she led me into my room to help me coordinate an outfit from the handful of dresses my mom had gifted me, wondering if she noticed I was blushing because of her initiating the physical contact for the first time in our brief friendship.

All of this was a lot, everything that had happened today was a lot, and it still wasn’t over, but… I was okay with that. I could navigate the rest of the day happily knowing I had people in my corner.

Chapter 14

Chapter Text

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***

Zeke

12 months earlier

I squatted in the Pits, putting the finishing touches on our minibot,Gurren, in preparation for our fight with TeamBottle Rocketin twenty minutes. I was so zoned in on getting all the screws extra tight that I almost missed my phone blaring out a Kendrick Lamar song. I groaned when I saw the caller ID. “Hi, Mom,” I said, attempting to keep the stress and frustration out of my voice. It was better to get whatever ‘conversation’ this was out of the way now- if I tried to put it off and ignore her, she’d just be even more cantankerous about it when we actually got around to it.

“Hellllo, Ezeekielll,” she slurred, her words blending together at the borders of the syllables. Oh, good. “How are you this evening?”

“Uh, a little busy to be honest, Mom,” I said.

“Busy? Busy with what? It’s not like you have a job.”

I breathed in a sharp sigh through my nose. “I do have a job, Mom. It’s just seasonal.”

“Those obnoxious shows you go on don’t count as a-”

“Mom, was there a specific reason you called?” I asked, focusing on keeping the screws tight. “Like I said, I’m a little busy.”

“Too busy to talk to your dear ol’ mum,” she said, her accent starting to slip out. She’d been training herself not to have one ever since she’d moved to the States back when she was a teenager, but sometimes it still flared up. Usually when she’d indulged in one too many Screwdrivers. “That’s a problem, you know- you’ll never get a girlfriend if you hate your own mother.”

“I don’t hate you, Mom,” I said monotone.

“Love the exact phrasing there, Ezekiel. Very gentlemanly.”

The screwdriver, my screwdriver, a literal one, slipped out of my hands. And as I reached down for it, I noticed my breathing- sharp, fast, all inhale and holding my breath, only exhaling when I absolutely needed to. “Thank you, Mother, I try.”

“Don’t you get sarcastic with me, young man- that’s hardly a trait that will do you any favors with the ladies either.”

I reached for the screwdriver on the ground, but my hand trembled when I tried to grip it. It slipped out of my grasp and hit the floor once again. “Look, Mom, my match starts in a few minutes, I really need to finish these repairs onDai Guren-”

“Oh God, I forgot you gave that stupid thing a name. How asinine.”

Cold, soggy shame dripped off of me, and I let myself inhale and exhale through my mouth.

And of course she kept going: “And that’s another thing- why is it just you doing this? Don’t you have teammates for this nonsense? They don’t appreciate you. If they did, they wouldn’t force you to do all the work-”

“They don’t force me to do all the work, Mom!” I snapped. “And I’m doing these repairs because I’m good at them. They had to go handle other stuff for the match. It’s not actually that complicated, but you refuse to understand!”

A few moments of deafening silence poured out from the other end of the line. “This is clearly not going to be a productive conversation. I think I’m done with you for the evening. I’ll call you back when you’re in a more reasonable headspace.”

“Mom-”

She ended the call before I could get another word out.

It wasn’t quiet in the pits- people were using saws to carve up metal, flames were welding parts together, drills were digging into machinery. All the high-pitched screeches coalesced into a singular plaintive wail.

A tear fell off my chin and shattered on the ground. I tore off my work gloves and wiped my eyes, hoping nobody would see me. I wasn’t much of a crier. No reason to ruin that reputation now, when I had other things to focus on. The bot was ready for the fight, and that was what I had to focus on, not the hollow pit in my chest rapidly filling with anger and resentment and freaking exhaustion-

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

My fingers parted across my visage. I hadn’t even realized my face was buried in my hands. I looked through the gaps to find Calloway there, standing across the narrow middle walkway that ran down the white room. He was standing there in jeans and a black hoodie drawn up over his head, but he pulled it back and shaked out his shaggy brown hair. His eyes always looked… Harsh, angry, aggressive. But not now, not at this moment. Now they looked… Softer. Concerned. And… Genuine, in their concern. I’d gotten pretty good at spotting the difference between genuine concern and artificial; having parents like mine forces you to learn as fast as possible. But right now, here, he…

“I… Just a difficult phone call with my mom,” I said, pulling my hands away from my face entirely, directing my gaze at the floor.

Calloway stepped forward and gave me a hug. I flinched- the guy really had no sense of personal space, but honestly… I needed it, then, so I hugged him back. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

I mumbled, “I guess I just…”

“What?” Calloway asked.

“It’s nothing, it’s…”

“What?” Calloway said, pulling out of the hug and looking me directly in the face, furrowing his brow.

“I’m… Just surprised that you care,” I said.

He gulped and took a step backward, along with a slight bite to his lower lip that ended as soon as it began. “I, uh… Yeah, yeah that’s fair.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“No, you did,” he said, turning his head so he didn’t have to look me in the eyes anymore. “It’s fine. Really, it is. I just… I really must come off like I’m a lot, all the time, huh?”

“I… What do you want me to say here, dude?” I said, taking a step towards him.

He took another step back. “Just the truth. Just… How you really feel.”

I drew in another deep breath. “Yes. You… You do.”

He gulped again. “That… That explains a buncha stuff. I kinda figured people knew I… But I guess they wouldn’t. Fair enough.”

“Look, Calloway-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a playful wave of his hand, plastering a bogus smile onto his face. “Just means I sell the heel routine well. That’s not a bad thing. And this isn’t really about me- I was asking you what’s wrong. Um… Do you… Do you wanna talk about it?”

My phone alarm hollered inside my pants’ pocket. Ten minutes till the fight. They’d be starting the introductory monologues soon. “I dunno if I have time right now, but… I appreciate it. I really, sincerely do. Maybe… Maybe next time?”

“Next time I catch you crying, tough guy?” he said, the smile edging just a little closer to genuine.

I forced out a little chuckle. “Yeah, I guess so. For now… Can I just get another hug?”

He nodded rapidly. “Of course.”

Then he went in for it and wrapped his arms around my back. And it felt… Good. Supportive. Strong, but not aggressive.

Maybe there was more to Keith Calloway than I thought.

***

NOW

I sprayed some breath spray into my mouth while I paced up and down the hallway of my apartment, my hands wringing together as I tried to keep my mind clear and focused.

I liked Kate. That much was hard to deny. She was bright and funny and passionate, just radiated warmth and empathy, and I felt like I could let my guard down around her in a way I couldn’t around other people. Including Faith.

But I liked Faith. I had for a while now. She was chill and focused and creative, a freaking dancing ray of light that always brightened up my day, who I desperately wanted to protect and take care of.

And they were both incredibly pretty.

Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit what is wrong with me? Just like my jackass of a father, can’t keep it in my pants, can’t be happy with what I have, like a real man is supposed to.

But that didn’t matter. I was going on a date with Katie tonight. I was moving on from Faith, because that was the right thing to do, because she didn’t like me back, because she didn’t swing that way and just wasn’t physically attracted to me. And Kate… She made it really easy to want to move on, and she seemed to really want to be with me, for some unfathomable reason. Holding her in my arms made me feel like the strongest person in the world; the way she’d just slid up to me and put herself there like it was the most natural fit possible… It felt really good. I felt really good around her.

My phone buzzed, and I saw from the caller ID that it was my mom.

My finger loomed over the ‘accept call’ button for a solid minute before the phone simply stopped ringing altogether. Then it immediately started ringing again, because my mom was physically incapable of taking no for an answer.

A spark of anger caught in my chest, burning my insides and sending proverbial smoke out of my ears. Goddammit, I was twenty-three years old, financially self-sufficient, and living in my own place. Shedid NOTget to keep pulling this crap. She hadn’t reached out to me in months and now, when I had something legitimately important to do, she decided it was the perfect time to interrupt. Couldn’t even be bothered to text first, asking if now was a good time.

I thought about a year ago, and the mess I’d become when my mom called before that match, and Kate, back before I’d known she was Kate, before she’d known she was Kate, before she and I could even call ourselves friends, let alone whatever we were now, had held me and comforted me. Didn’t have to be asked, just offered and did her best to make good on that offer. That was when it had started to dawn on me that underneath it all, she really was a kind person with a big heart.

It was also when it really started to dawn on me that my mom was an absolute bitch. Maybe she wasn’t as unbearable as my dad, but it would be a truly Herculean feat to be anywhere near as unpleasant as that selfish asshole.

I hit ‘ignore.’

I breathed out, slowly and carefully, leaning against the wall. I was emphatically not going to cry right now, because I didn’t want Kate to feel like she had to take care of me tonight. I wanted to take care of her, to show her that yes, she really was the cute, sweet, wonderful girl she was trying to be.

The tumblers of our lock shifted as the front door opened. Faith stepped through, a sad smile on her face. “Heyo,” she said. “Your hot date is downstairs waiting for you. Show her a good time tonight, yeah?”

“Of course,” I nodded, double checking my pockets to make sure I had my phone and wallet. Good to go. “You gonna be okay by yourself tonight?”

She gave an errant wave of her hand and said, “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I can get caught up on my soaps.”

“You watch soap operas?” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, old ones from the 1960s, mostly,” she said. “They’re really funny when you’re stoned.”

“Fair enough,” I said. I gave her a quick hug, which she happily accepted. “Don’t wait up for me!”

“Will do!” she said as I made my way out the door.

I headed down the stairs and out front, where Kate’s pickup truck sat in the thin driveway that led into the parking garage below my building. I did a double-take when I saw her, leaning against the front of her truck. She wore a red dress that covered her chest wholesale, but beneath, what looked like boobs protruded from the dress in question. Falsies, presumably- Faith must have loaned her old ones out. Still, it couldn’t be denied that they looked real good on Kate, bringing the whole look together. Her dress had a slit going up the side, showing off her long, smooth legs well up her thick thighs. Bright red lipstick was painted across her mouth, and my whole body was screaming at me to cup her face in my hands and shove my tongue down her throat. So, of course, in my infinite intelligence and articulation, all I managed to choke out was, “Whoa.”

She smiled the kind of smile you want to protect with every fiber of your being. “Like what you see?” Her voice was high and breathy, each syllable enunciated slowly and carefully. She’d only been out for a few days and she’d already come so far. It was astonishing. It was… She was…

“Absolutely beautiful,” I said, unable to blink.

Her jaw dropped, and she stared at me.

Then a car pulled up behind her and honked at us- I recognized one of my neighbors behind the wheel, an older, heavyset woman named Nina.

“C’mon, let’s get going,” Kate said. She gestured me into the truck and then we pulled out of the driveway. “So, where are we going?” she asked.

“Uh, Indian place on Lincoln Boulevard. It’s over by my old college,” I said, trying not to stare at her too much and venture into the dubious territory of ‘creepy weirdo.’

“Sounds good, I love Indian food,” she smiled again.

Kiss her, you idiot, my brain hollered.Wait, no, she’s driving. Bad idea. But kiss her before the end of the night!“How’d the appointment go?”

“Fantastic! I’ll be able to start hormones hopefully by the end of the week!”

“That’s fantastic!” I said. “How’d the other one go?”

She spat out a petulant sigh. “Less good. My sponsor is…”

“Is?”

“Let’s be charitable and go with ‘pragmatic,’” she said, her voice dropping low. She grunted with frustration and her eyes peeled wide as she heard her own words.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I said, trying my best to sound reassuring. “I don’t mind if you use your… Other voice.” I managed to stop myself from saying ‘boy voice’ or ‘normal voice.’ Thank God.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “It’s… It’s not that I don’t want you to hear it, it’s that I don’t like hearing it.”

“That’s fair,” I said.

“But yeah, if I want to keep Gaines as my sponsor, I may or may not have to lean into this whole trans thing as part of my ‘brand.’ Ugh, I hate that word. Gag me.”

“Is that a request?” I smirked.

She blushed redder than the Red Comet. “What if it is?”

“Then I’d be happy to accommodate.” What the hell, when did I get this bold?! It must have been my dick talking for me. Made sense- I’d spent…Severalyears not listening to it. How long had it been since I’d last had sex, anyway? Two years? Three?

Getting ahead of yourself, Underhill.“Do you think you’re gonna stick with Gaines?” I asked.

“Don’t see what choice I have,” she replied as she turned onto Lincoln and started driving west. “I don’t exactly have the capital to self-fund. How do you and Faith raise money, anyway?”

“Uh, a couple ways. Grant from our old college, a loan from Faith’s parents, and the money she and I raise doing temporary engineering jobs during the off-season. Usually like…, four, five months full time work with one of the aerospace companies in the city, then we spend the rest of the year working on the fun stuff.”

“I should probably look into something like that,” Kate said. “I don’t dislike working for my parents, but I’m never gonna make the kind of money I need to keep going in the ‘bot battle circuit working twenty hours a week at an indie retail outlet.”

“I have some contacts at a few places that I can send your way,” I offered. “Might be able to help you get a foot in the door, do some interviews.”

“That… Would be amazing,” she beamed. “You’d really do that for me?”

“‘Course I would,” I said.I want you to keep smiling that smile.“I just… Want you to be happy.”

“Thanks,” she said. “For… Everything.”

“No problem, Katie,” I said.

She giggled. God, her laugh was adorable. So, I said that out loud.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“You have a cute laugh,” I said simply.

“It’s not cute… I’m not…”

“If you’re about to say you’re not cute, just know that there’s nothing cuter than a cute girl insisting she’s not cute.”

“... Dammit. You’re right.”

“Gotcha,” I said, snapping my fingers.

We carried on like that until we got to the restaurant, where, to my astonishment, we were seated immediately. I ordered a lamb vindaloo with a side of garlic naan, and she ordered butter chicken with onion naan. We split an order of vegetable samosas as well, and we were seated by the window looking out into the street. A pair of candles sat between us on our glass table, casting a bit of glow in the darkened dining area.

“So, you went to that school over there, then?” Kate asked. “LMU?”

“Yeah, all four years.”

“How’d you wind up there?” she asked.

“Uh, well, I applied to UCLA and didn’t get in,” I said with a self-deprecating laugh. “Which is true of, uh, most of the school, actually.”

“They couldn’t get into UCLA?” Kate chuckled.

“Or USC. Or Harvey Mudd. Or Cal Poly.”

“Ahhh, gotcha. You said you grew up around here, right?”

“For a given value,” I said. “I was raised in Riverside.”

“Inland Empire, I see,” she said. “That place as horrifying as David Lynch makes it look?”

I chuckled. “Only when it’s on fire.”

“So, like, all Summer?”

“Pfft, basically.”

“It’s funny, you know, we grew up in the same neck of the woods but never met till we started doing what we do,” Kate said, resting her chin on her hands while her elbows were propped up on the table. “I know that Venice and Riverside aren’t actually that close together-”

“Especially with the traffic in this town making it a longer trek,” I said.

“Still,” she said. “It’s cool, knowing that someone like you was relatively close this whole time.”

Her eyes…

“Zeke?” she asked. “You okay?”

“Hm? Yeah, why?”

“You went quiet and started staring at me,” she said, raising her head, putting her hands flat on the table, concern exuding from her frown. “Did I lay it on too thick?”

I shook my head. “Not at all.” I reached for her hand. “Honestly, I’m worried about doing the same, so why don’t we just be ourselves tonight, and see how that works for us?”

“I’d like that,” she smiled again. That smile…

The server, a middle-aged Indian man with pot-belly and an impressive beard, brought our samosas and a few different sauces over and set them between us. And with him came, very unexpectedly, some familiar faces.

“Zeke?” Olivia asked. She was flanked by her new teammates, Tom, a medium-height black man in his late twenties with a shaved head and massive hands, and Winston, a white boy with a wild mane of brown hair who looked like he was still in college. And standing next to them wereTeam Forest FireandTeam Sparky-Sparky-Boom.
Forest Firewas three guys all in their thirties, each of them shredded and rocking full beards. Their captain, Lance Masterson, was a behemoth of a white man with a shaved head and some burn marks on his arms and neck; his teammates were Jake George, a tall black man with long dreads and nose ring, and Evan Hernandez, a shorter Mexican-American man built like a powerlifter.Team Spark-Sparky-Boom, meanwhile, was two people, a husband and wife team called David and Eileen Portman. David was comfortably in his early forties, hair more salt than pepper, clean shaven and thin as a rail; Eileen looked like she was in her late thirties, and was shorter and thicker, with long brown hair beginning to spark with silver.

A low-pitched groan escaped my throat, and I was surprised at how loud it was, only to look over and see that Kate was making roughly the same mouth-noise.

“H-h-hey,” I eventually choked out. “How y’all doing?”

“Not bad,” Masterson said.

“Not bad at all!” Hernandez said, snapping his fingers and pointing at Kate.

She blushed, then looked down at her food.

“So, this must be Kate,” Olivia said.

“Um, how do you know about-”

“Faith told me.”

“Faith told you what?” I said, my eyes narrow.

“Oh, just that you’d finally found a girl for you… Wait a sec. Wait wait wait a second. Calloway? Is that you under all that makeup?”

My eyes bulged with panic, and I saw Kate’s lips trembling and her hands wringing together. Oh, this was bad- she wasn’t ready to come out to everyone at work yet, she’d said as much to me in the car ride. She’d been planning to come out in two weeks when she had her next fight, with the same kind of surprise announcement that Faith had been afforded.

And now… Now she was having to come out to her work rivals by accident. For the third time in two weeks.

Goddammit.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice dropping low. Then, in her higher, breathier voice, she said, “Yes. It’s me. My preferred name is Kate, pronouns are she/her.”

Olivia’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh, so you’re a trans too?” Mrs. Portman said.

I died inside a little bit.

“I, uh, yeah. I’m a trans woman,” Kate said.

“Wow, two of you in the tournament this year, huh? What are the odds?” Mrs. Portman said. “And this isn’t a publicity stunt?”

“Dear, hush, that’s rude,” Mr. Portman said, playfully swatting his wife on the arm, blissfully unaware of the psychic damage he and his wife had just inflicted on Kate.

“No,” Kate said, eyes dropping low, fingers drumming nervously on the table. Oooohhhh dear. “I’m just… I’m a woman.”

“Hey, listen, it’s nice to see you all, but Kate and I were just trying to have a nice, quiet dinner,” I said. “Alone.As in just the two of us-”

“That’s fine, broseph,” Masterson said, “We can all take that big table outside, leave you two to your date.”

“I’d appreciate that a lot,” I nodded, putting a metric ton of emphasis behind each syllable.

“As would I,” Kate said. Practically squeaked. Must… Protect…At all costs.

“No problem, brosephine,” Masterson said. “You look great, bee-tea-dubs.”

They all cleared out and headed for the massive rectangular longtable outside… Except Olivia, who remained standing exactly where she was in front of us with her brow creased and her hands on her hips and her jaw slack.

“Uh, Olivia, you coming with?” Tom asked while standing in the doorway, with an ‘aw sh*t here we go again’ expression on his face.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” Olivia said.

Tom sighed and let the door close as he stepped outside. You tried, Tom. You tried.

“Can, uh, I help you with something?” I said, trying not to get too distressed by Kate’s thousand-yard stare. Given that she’d only a few days prior called out and challenged Olivia in front of a screaming crowd while on camera and then immediately proceeded to have a massive panic attack… I didn’t like what this was almost certainly doing to her brain.

“I just… When Faith said you’d found someone, this wasn’t what I expected,” Olivia said. “Does she… She knows who Kate really is, right?”

“Yeah, she does,” I said, creasing my own brow, “Why do you ask?”

“I just… I really just… Calloway? Seriously?! Calloway?!” Olivia said. “Of all freaking people, you choose Calloway over Faith?!”

“I’m sitting right here, you know,” Kate said.

“R-right. Sorry, I… You look nice,” Olivia said.

“Thanks,” Kate said. “Just, uh, quick question: why do you care?”

“Because I care about Faith,” Olivia said.

“Right, sure you do,” Kate said. “You care so much about the girl you brutally dumped in the most vulnerable moment of her life. Right. Definitely. Absolutely.”

“Also, why would Faith care?” I said, attempting to navigate the conversation away from Kate’s (admittedly accurate) criticism of Olivia. “She and Kate have patched things up- they’re friends now.”

“Really?” Olivia said.

“Yes, really,” Kate said. “She and I hung out literally all day today. She helped me pick out this dress, helped me with my voice. She and I are fine. And she’s fine with this.”

“Oh, honey,” Olivia said. “You don’t…Reallybelieve that. Do you?”

Kate blinked, and her eyes went low again.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means-”

“Don’t,” Kate said, slamming her hand against the table.

Olivia took a step back. “Right. Sorry. It’s… Look, Zeke, I know you and I were never super close, but I gotta ask- is Faith really completely on board with all this?”

“Yes! Why wouldn’t she be?” Did someone slip me a crazy-pill? What the hell was going on?!

“I just… Can’t believe you would choose Ke… Kate over Faith,” Olivia said.

“It’s not a choice,” I said, grabbing Kate’s hand and squeezing it tightly, a fire lighting inside my head. “I like Kate. She’s a beautiful woman, inside and out.”

“Phrasing,” Kate said in a thirsty whisper, eyebrows raised.

“Babe, not now,” I said.

“Babe?” she said with a bright smile.

“Babe? Wow,” Olivia said. “This is… A lot to accept, tbh.”

“And why, exactly, do you get a say?” I said.

“I-”

“That was a rhetorical question,” I said. “You don’t. At all.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll back off,” Olivia said, holding up her hands, palms flat. “I just… Can’t help but think you’re making a mistake. You and Faith would be cute together, that’s all I’m saying.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I growled.

“You would be,” Kate whispered.

“What?” I said. Seriously,WHAT?!

“Backing away now,” Olivia said. “I’m sorry for saying anything- you’re right, it’s really none of my business. But, uh, Calloway? I still remember what you said last Friday. I’ll see you in the battle box.”

And with that, she walked away. My head spun with confusion and anger at the implications of what she said, the insinuations, the freaking hubris. And on top of it all, Kate looked ready to cry again.

Our waiter finally came over with our food on a tray and set it down, but looked at us with a worried expression. “Would you two like this to go, by any chance?”

“Yes, please,” Kate and I said simultaneously.

We waited till the food was put in takeaway boxes, and we made a hasty departure. I was pretty sure I heard Mrs. Portman shouting something at us as we walked out the front door, but I wasn’t sure what. “Where should we take all this?” Kate asked.

“I have one idea, if you’re up for it,” I said, with a grin I hoped would be the first step to salvaging this evening.

We headed for Dockweiler Beach, only a few miles from the restaurant, basically deserted in the waning hours of the evening before it was closed to the public. Waves lapped against the sand in a steady, drawling rhythm, and the rich, relaxing scent of seawater filled the air. We sat on a blanket Kate kept in her truck, eating our food while watching the tide crashing into the shore and the setting sun casting an orange-gold glow over everything. Kate had tied her hair back while we ate, but loose strands kept blowing about from the seabreeze and colliding with her face.

I reached over and brushed a strand back, and she smiled at me. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I’m, uh, sorry about what happened.”

“Don’t be, it isn’t your fault,” she said. “Honestly, you handled it really well. Way better than I would have in your position.”

“And what position is that?”

“The guy’s. You’re… You’re a really good guy, Zeke Underhill,” she said, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

I laughed in spite of myself. “That’s nice of you to say. I… I’m not really used to hearing it,” I admitted, slumping my shoulders.

“I find that hard to believe. You’re such a gentleman.”

“I… The thing is,” I started. Oh boy, I was about to admit this to her. This was big. I rarely talked about this. Not even with Faith. “... My parents… Are not the types to give out praise often, and a lot of it had to do with them thinking I wasn’t living up to their expectations of what a man was supposed to be. My Mom… Well, she’s English, she’s got all these old-fashioned, old-world ideas about men and women. She sent me to my room when I cried at a movie once when I was seven. My dad wasn’t much better- kind of a rough and tumble man’s man type. When I didn’t make my high school’s basketball team in ninth grade, he reamed me out for half an hour straight. Never mind the fact that I was short and fat back then. Which they both reminded me of constantly.”

“Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry,” Kate said, putting down her food and placing her hand on my shoulder. I gave it a squeeze. She continued, “My parents have always been so chill and supportive. I can’t even imagine what it’s like to… To grow up with that instead of what I had.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Honestly, I’m mostly over it at this point. I moved out for college when I was eighteen and never looked back. The only thing that really still gets to me is how hypocritical they were about everything. My dad… He’s a total pig, cheats on my mom constantly, and Mom just drinks to forget it every time the proof is thrown in her face. They’re both so full of sh*t, but I still… I still have this fear sometimes, that they’re right, that I’m not good enough, that there’s something I’m doing wrong, that…”

“That?”

“... That I’ll be a cheater like my dad, constantly balancing multiple girls, stringing along someone I’m supposed to be committed to. I think… I think that’s what bugged me about what Olivia was insinuating, like I was somehow being disloyal to Faith. Which is ridiculous, because… I… And she doesn’t even… And I’m not-”

“Not what?” Kate said, wrapping her arms around me.

“I’m not with her. I probably won’t ever be with her,” I said.

“... You really like her, don’t you?”

“... I’m not sure you want me to answer that question, Katie.”

“You already have,” she said. “It’s kinda obvious.”

“I… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Kate said, nuzzling my shoulder. “You’re allowed to like more than one person at the same time. And you’ve liked her for a while, I’m not surprised I’m…”

“You’re what?”

“... Second prize.”

“You’re not,” I said, turning around and putting my hands on her cheeks. “Listen to me, Kate Calloway. I recognize we’ve only just started really getting to know each other, but in that time, you’ve shown yourself to be… Amazing. Caring. Funny and thoughtful. Beautiful. I… I don’t know if I deserve you, but I’d like… To keep seeing you like this. To get to know you better, and to hold your hand while you go on this journey.”

Tears streamed out her eyes, and she bit her lower lip before saying, “Would you… Would you still say that if Faith liked you back?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoffed. “Faith is gay.”

“...”

I blinked. “Faith is gay, right?”

“I…,” Kate stammered, pulling out of my hands. “I’ve said too much.”

I blinked one long, sustained blink as the gears turned in my head. Faith… Wasn’t gay? And she… It… This made it seem like…

Like she…

No.

Just, just… No.

There was a beautiful girl who I liked in front of me, and I wasn’t gonna let her slip away. “You’re fine. And even if she did, it wouldn’t matter.”

“You… You really mean that?”

“She’s not here with me right now, on this beach, sharing this meal, this evening,” I said. “Life moves forward, not back. If Faith really liked me, she should have said something. You, though, you said something. You made the first move, and… God, I’ve had to do that myself so many times, only for it to fall apart. Do you have any idea how good it makes me feel, that you like me enough to be the one to push things forward? How special that makes me feel? Because it’s amazing… You make me feel… Amazing, Kate.”

She looked at me with those big blue eyes, shining in the multicolored light of dusk as the sun set over the horizon, her red lips spread wide, hope and astonishment and joy radiating out of every inch of her. She gulped, and then she grabbed my lapel and said, “I’m gonna push things forward again now. Is that okay?”

I didn’t answer. I just went for it, pressing her lips against mine, melting into her as we made out on the beach while the sun finished setting. My heart was alight with ecstasy, my lust burning at maximum temperature. I didn’t know for sure if I liked her more than I liked Faith. I just knew that in that moment, there was nobody I’d rather be with, nobody I’d rather be kissing, nobody I’d rather be getting to know.

For just one moment, everything was crystal clear.

“You really had to ask?” I said as I pressed my forehead against hers, reveling in her aftertaste.

She smiled. Oh, Lord, that smile. “I just had to make sure.”

We carried on like that for a while longer, her hands touching mine, my lips touching hers, our bodies interlocking.

Chapter 15

Chapter Text

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***

Faith

Dark Shadows droned on my television screen while the effects of my weed gummy began to manifest. Everything was light and airy, and I laid on my back and watched the ceiling fan rotate while gothic soap opera nonsense served as the soundtrack to my stoned thought-ramblings.

I wanted to focus on what was in front of me, I really did. But all I could think about was my rival going on a date with my best friend, and the green thornbush of envy strangling my heart. I’d resolved myself to be a graceful loser, going out of my way to support Zeke and Kate’s budding relationship. I’d done Kate’s makeup for her, and given her an extended tutorial on how to walk in heels, given her my old falsies. She’d looked, to be blunt, smoking hot when I was through with her. Zeke was a lucky guy, and hopefully he realized that.

Kate, for her part, seemed to already know that she was a lucky girl.

I still couldn’t believe she’d offered to stop pursuing Zeke for my benefit. The first guy you like, once you realize you swing that way, tends to have a downright intoxicating effect on you in my experience. That she’d have been willing to give that up just to make me happy…

I was wrong about her. Or maybe I was right, but now she’d changed, and if I tried to keep acting like she was still a jerk, then I’d be the real jerk. She was a ray of freaking sunshine now. It was… Hard not to see the appeal.

An image sparked in my mind, of Kate’s head resting on my lap, me stroking her hair, running my hands over her shoulders, tracing the outline of her lips with my fingers…

I shook my head. That kind of thought wouldn’t help me at all in the days going forward. And honestly, it had been… Difficult to let myself feel attracted to another girl ever since Olivia left me.

Another image burst across my mind’s eye, of Zeke stroking my hair while I rested my head in his lap, of him running his hands over the edges of my body…

I shook my head again. I needed to stop this, otherwise I’d be veering dangerously close to fem-cel territory, and that was the last thing I wanted. Those two… Had each other now. If it didn’t work out, maybe I could pursue Zeke after he’d had an appropriate amount of time to grieve his former relationship.

Assuming it went that far. Maybe tonight would go badly and then I could…

No. Just no, Faith. Get over yourself.

My hand was unconsciously drawn to my phone, resting on the coffee table, and I scrolled through my contacts and pulled up Olivia. My red-lacquered fingernail hovered over the call icon, and my hands began trembling. The phone slipped out and fell onto the floor, and as I reached for it, a furious knocking exploded from my front door.

I groaned, then felt the sting of dysphoria as I realized I’d slipped into a low voice. I sat up, breathed a deep breath through my nose and held it in my chest while the knocking grew in rapidity and intensity.

I exhaled, then walked over to the door.

On the other side, I found a pale, dark-haired woman in her early fifties, her makeup a smudgy mess streaked across her blotchy face. She reeked of brandy and cigarettes, with ash-stains smeared across her white cardigan and blue skirt.

I sighed. “Hi, Mrs. Underhill.”

“Who are you?” she slurred, the traces of her Newcastle accent making themselves apparent.

You’ve got to be kidding me- you’ve met me over a dozen times and you still don’t… Wait, she’s never seen me as a girl! Holy crap! Do I pass that well? Am I such a convincing girl that this idiot just straight-up doesn’t recognize me? I’ve gotta work with this.

“Did my son finally get a girlfriend, then?” Mrs. Underhill spat.

“No, I’m just his roommate,” I said, each word carefully plucked from the marijuana haze choking my mind.

“Bah, his roommate- unbelievable, cohabitating with a young immigrant girl who doesn’t know better-”

My eyes narrowed. I see you’re the same as ever, bitch. “I was born here, ma’am. And both my parents are American citizens.”

“Are they, though?”

“Pretty sure I’d know that better than you.”

“Well, regardless, my scoundrel of a son should know better than to-”

“Don’t you talk about Zeke like that!” I snapped. “He’s a wonderful and upstanding young man!”

“Oh really? Well I’ve known him since the day he was born and I say he’s… Wait a moment.”

Oh, no. Paranoia stabbed through my chest, dread grasping my brain tightly. “Y-yes?”

“I completely forgot what I was here to talk about… Oh, right!” Mrs. Underhill said.

“Y… Yeah?” I asked, the paranoia spreading to my stomach.

“I’m getting a divorce!”

My eyes shot way, way open. “That’s… Not actually surprising, honestly,” I said. Then my eyes went even wider at the realization that my dumb stoned brain said that out loud. Dammit, I was gonna give myself away!

“Wot d’you mean?” she said, her Britishness intensifying.

“I, uh… Well, Zeke has, um, told me a lot about you and his dad.”

“Of course he did, that boy is completely incapable of keeping things- hic- in the family- hic,” she said.

“Oh, wow, you are really plastered aren’t you, Mrs. Underhill?” I said, trying very hard not to giggle at this grown-ass woman drunk and hiccuping like a freaking sorority girl.

“It’s- hic- Ms. Framing-h-h-ham to you, you little tart! Or it will be again soon. Ah never should have taken that miserable wretch’s last name. ‘Underhill.’ Wot a ridiculous name.”

“Excuse you?!” I bit.

“Oi, you heard me! You’re living with a young man in sin!”

“It’s not like that!” I said, “I’m not Zeke’s girlfriend. We’ve never been… He and I are just friends!”

“Good, good- you don’t want anything to do with anything that came from my wretch of a soon to- hic- soon to- hic- soon to be ex-hic-husband!”

“Stop talking about my friend like that!” I said, stomping my foot. My voice dropped low again- DAMMIT!

Mrs. Underhill… Ms. Framingham’s eyes narrowed and she tilted her head to the side and leaned forward. “Frank? Is that you under all that nonsense, lad?”

“... You can’t prove that,” I said, my back stiffening.

“Oi, you’ve got to be taking the piss- my good for nothing son is shacking up with a bloody tr-”

I slammed the door before she could finish.

“You open this door right now, you little fairy! I will not tolerate you being around my son, you disgusting little-”

“I’m not just gonna stand there so you can lecture me, you drunk old bitch!” I hollered. “Now get out of here before I call the cops!”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Don’t call my bluff, lady! I’m from an Army family- you do NOT intimidate me!” God, I was way too high to deal with this. My chest was heaving up and down as I lumbered over to the couch and laid flat, clutching my phone tightly. I opened it, and Olivia’s contact was the first thing I saw.

Dammit. I forgot what I’d just been doing. Stupid, stupid, stupid-

“Let! Me! In!”

“Nancy?” a rough voice accented with the neutral tones of southern California spoke from the other side. Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.

“Sid? Wot are you doing here, you louse?!”

“I came to speak with our son about our divorce.”

“No, you didn’t! I did- you don’t get to beat me to the punch.”

“He’s not home!” I yelled, doing my best to maintain a feminine tone.

“Who was that?” Mr. Underhill asked.

“Frank- little pervert thinks he’s a girl now.”

“Oh, lovely. Our son’s taste certainly hasn’t improved, then.”

“Both of you need to leave, or I WILL CALL THE POLICE!” I screamed.

“No you won’t, you don’t have the balls!” Mr. Underhill shouted through the door. I could practically hear the self-satisfied smirk on the old bastard’s face as he said it.

“Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?” Zeke’s voice reached me like a light of hope shining from the sky above.

“Ezekiel, I need to talk to you,” his father said.

“Wot are you doin’, shacking up with that freak in there?” his mom said. “And now you’ve got another one on your arm there- wot on earth is wrong with you?”

My jaw clenched, and I stood up and marched outside. “Don’t insult him!” I shouted. “Your son is one of the best people I’ve ever met, and I will not listen to you insult him in his own home.”

“Zeke, are you really going to let this freak talk to us like that?” his father asked. He was taller than Zeke, noticeably so at over six foot six. Zeke got his mother’s shorter, leaner frame, but he shared his father’s curly black hair and tan skin and green eyes. Mr. Underhill smelled like cheap beer to go along with Ms. Framingham’s hard liquor aroma, his baggy Megadeth t-shirt tucked into his ill-fitting jeans. He was in remarkably good shape still, I had to give him that; they both were. Zeke had always described them as people who excelled at making others think nothing at all was wrong with them.

Evidently, tonight the masks were off.

Zeke gulped.

And behind him, Katie, oh poor, sweet, innocent Katie, trembled with a rage I recognized all too well. Her hands were balled into fists at her sides, but her eyes flickered with apprehension. Poor thing. She was worried about taking another step backwards.

She shouldn’t have to do that. Not after her first date with the boy she liked.

I marched past Zeke’s parents and grabbed both Zeke and Katie by the wrists, and pulled them into the apartment and slammed the door.

“Unbelievable!” Mr. Underhill said. “You stupid little tr-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” Zeke snapped. “You will not insult my friends. Now get out, or I’ll call the cops!”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Ms. Framingham said.

“Ezekiel, c’mon, don’t be like that,” Mr. Underhill said. “We need to tell you something important!”

“Then stop burying the lede and say it!” Zeke said.

“Not until you come out here, young man!”

“Your parents are getting divorced,” I said.

Katie put a hand over her mouth in shock, her eyes wide as she backed further into my apartment.

Zeke blinked. “What?”

“Oh for God’s sake- he wasn’t meant to tell you!” Ms. Framingham said.

“So it’s true?” Zeke said through the door.

“... Yes.”

“Alright. Can’t say I’m surprised,” Zeke said. “Now I know. So you can leave.”

“Is that seriously all you have to say?”

“I’m calling the police now,” Zeke said.

“I already did,” I said, holding up my phone and hitting the speaker button.

“9-1-1 what’s your emergency?” said the operator on the other end of the line.

“Bloody hell!” Ms. Framingham said as she stomped off.

“Jesus Christ,” Mr. Underhill mumbled as he did the same.

“Oh, just a couple of pests who wouldn’t leave,” I said to the dispatcher. “It’s taken care of, though. Have a great night!”

I hung up, and then the three of us all looked at each other.

Well, that’s not quite true: Katie and I looked at each other, and then at Zeke, who’d slipped into a thousand-yard stare. Katie clung to his arm and said, “Are you okay?”

“I don’t… I don’t know,” he replied.

“Want something to drink?” I asked.

“After that shameless display? I might never drink again,” Zeke said.

I nodded, then looked at Katie and mouthed, ‘take care of him for a sec?’

She nodded.

I scampered off, opening the windows, turning on all the fans, and retrieving a few joints. I led the new couple over to the couch and sat them down, Zeke in the middle and Katie to his left. I sat on his right, then lit the joint and passed it to him.

Zeke inhaled deeply, breathed out, and coughed slightly.

Katie, meanwhile, coughed up a storm.

“First time?” I asked.

Her jaw dropped.

“Not like that,” I said in monotone.

She nodded rapidly.

“Figured. Zeke, talk to me. What’s going through your head, big guy?”

“Just… Wish I could say I was surprised by any of this,” Zeke said. “I don’t even know why I care- I barely talk to them anymore. I haven’t lived with them since I was eighteen. They drive me insane. They drive each other insane. I just… I dunno.”

“They shouldn’t talk to you like that,” Kate said, leaning forward, brow furrowed, hands gripping her knees tightly. “I just… It’s not okay. How can… How can any parent think that’s an okay way to talk to your kid!?”

“Katie, you’re shaking,” Zeke said.

“I- I am? Huh? I just… Everything feels really… Intense right now… And I just…”

“You don’t have to get angry, you know,” I said. “I saw you back there, about to lose your temper. And I get it, but you don’t have to. You can be supportive in other ways.”

“How so?” she asked.

“Zeke, put your arm around her,” I said.

“Huh?” he said.

“Zeke, put your arm around the pretty girl!” I said. “Trust me, it’ll be good for both of you right now.”

Zeke looked at me with immense confusion, then did as he was bid and put his arm around Katie.

“Good. Feel better?” I asked.

“Yeah, actually,” Kate said.

“A bit,” Zeke said. “I’m sorry you both had to see all that.”

“It’s okay,” I said.

“I’m fine, really,” Kate said. “And this isn’t about me, it’s about you. How are you feeling?”

He took another hit, long and drawn out, then pawed at the puff of smoke he exhaled. “Well, the date went really well.”

“It did?” I said, forcing a smile onto my face. Be supportive, be supportive, be supportive.

“I think so,” Kate said as she coughed out another puff. “We did run into some people from work though.”

“Oh?”

They relayed the encounter with Olivia and the others to me, at which point I buried my face in my hands.

I felt Zeke’s hand on my back, and another hand, presumably Katie’s, patting my head. I opened my eyes and saw them both smiling at me, and a warm flush went through my body. “Olivia’s gonna keep being weird about this stuff, isn’t she?” I said.

“You know her better than me,” Kate said.

“Or me,” Zeke pointed out.

“Blarg.”

At that point, Kate leaned over Zeke’s frame and grabbed my hands. I blushed- seriously, what was with this girl and unprompted physical contact?- but I didn’t protest. “Let’s all do something to get our minds off of things. Ruminating won’t help us, now will it?”

Zeke cracked a smile. “What did you have in mind?”

“We could play ‘never have I ever.’ Or ‘two truths and a lie.’”

“Going for the throwback, I see,” Zeke chuckled. “I haven’t played one of those since freshman year of college. I’m game, though.”

I hesitated. This could go badly. One of us- namely, myself- could say something we regret. Unfortunately, I’m really, really, really dumb, and when I’m stoned, that becomes amplified twenty-fold, so I simply nodded and said, “How about two truths and a lie?”

“Works for me!” Kate said, with that winning smile.

“Cool,” Zeke said, clearly glad to have changed the mood of the night.

“I’ll go first,” Kate said. “I’ve been wearing women’s underwear since I was twelve. I drink skim milk every day. I don’t like bananas.”

“Hmmmm?” Zeke said.

“I mean, I sure hope you like bananas, if you’re gonna be dating a guy,” I laughed.

Kate blushed.

Zeke looked at me reproachfully and said, “Faith…”

Then Kate started giggling.

“Oh, you totally like bananas- that was the lie!” I said, pointing at her.

“Well, I didn’t used to like them, but I’ve acquired the taste of late,” Kate smirked.

Zeke’s face scrunched up as he tried to keep his laughter in a bottle. The attempt, while valiant, failed wholesale within the first ten seconds. “That’s good to know.”

“I mean if we’re gonna keep seeing each other, yeah,” Kate said, her eyebrows shooting up and down several times. She took a hit, owing to having lost the round.

“Dear God,” I muttered.

“What?” they both said at once.

I just laughed, and laughed. “Nothing. I’ll go next. My favorite anime is Legend of the Galactic Heroes. I have a half-brother from my dad’s first marriage who’s fifteen years older than me. I prefer waxing my legs to shaving them.”

“It’s the second one,” Zeke said. “I’ve known you since I was eighteen- there is literally no way you’ve had a half-brother this whole time and never mentioned him once.”

“Kate, what’s your guess?” I asked.

“The second one as well,” Kate said. “You give off major ‘only child energy.’”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said, my jaw dropping and my fists planting on hips in mock outrage.

“You know what it means,” Kate said, waving her hand at me.

“No, I don’t, because I really do have an older half-brother from my dad’s first marriage!” I laughed.

“No freaking way,” Zeke said.

“Yes freaking way!” I said, pulling out my phone and scrolling to a family photo. “His name is Darren Watanabe Junior, DJ for short. My dad knocked up a local gal when he was stationed in Nairobi. They were married for like, five years before they split up. He met my mom when he got transferred back to the states, and took a while for them to get together and have another kid.”

“How am I just now learning this?” Zeke said, taking the obligatory hit. “Your parents were at our graduation last year- where was DJ then?

“Torii Station, Okinawa,” I said. “He’s a Major in the Army. And like I said, he and I aren’t that close- he started attending West Point when I was three and shipped out to Afghanistan when I was seven. Think the last time I saw him was… Like, right before I started college.”

“Huh,” Zeke said. “The more you know.”

Kate coughed as she took another hit. “Indeed. What’s the lie then?”

“My favorite anime is actually Eureka Seven,” I said. “Your turn, Zeke.”

“Okay, okay, lemme think,” he said. “Uh… I was on the cross country team in high school. I speak fluent Romani. I’ve never been outside of California.”

“There’s no way you’ve never left California, even I’ve been outside California,” Kate said.

“You do not speak fluent Romani,” I said.

He looked me dead in the eyes and said a few words in a language I didn’t recognize.

I blinked. “Huh. Was that-”

“Romani. Vlax Romani specifically,” he said. “One of the only cool things my old man ever taught me.” He offered me the joint, then turned to Kate and poked her on the nose. “You, however, were correct. My dad also once took me on a business trip to Vegas.”

“Your dad is a mechanic,” I pointed out.

“A business trip to Vegas?” Kate said, tilting her head.

“His business is being a cheating man-whor*,” Zeke laughed bitterly. “Either way, Kate wins this one.”

“Guess she really is a good fit for you,” I winced.

A pregnant pause sat atop us all for a few seconds. I shook my head. Stupid, stupid, stupid- why would you say that?! Oh, right, I’m stoned. That’s why.

“My turn again,” Kate said, leaning against the side of the sofa and putting her bare feet on Zeke’s lap. Damn, Kate, that’s bold. “I’ve never been outside of America. I don’t have any family outside of my parents. I’m a virgin.”

I started coughing, and so did Zeke. Kate just giggled at the both of us, holding her hand over her mouth. God, she had a cute laugh. It was insane how cute she was… No wonder Zeke was into her, she was adorable. And with how hot her mom was, the hormones were liable to be VERY good to her. “There’s no way a cutie like you is a virgin,” I said.

Zeke and Kate both stared at me for a moment.

“W-w-w-well, Zeke, w-w-w-what’s your guess?” I finally managed to squeak out.

“I find it slightly hard to believe your parents are your only relatives, even if it would explain how close y’all are,” Zeke said.

“Nope on both your guesses,” she chirped. “I went on a family vacation to Mexico once when I was very small. My parents are both only children and my grandparents are all dearly departed. And, uh, I’ve never gotten around to that last thing.”

“Well, we can work on that,” Zeke said suggestively.

Kate gulped, wide-eyed and blushing. I smiled at them both. Good. If this happened, if they happened, I could move on. Good. This was good. Good good good.

“Your turn, Faith,” Kate said.

I took a hit, and did my best approximation of Kate’s cute girl giggle. Thoughts drifted out of the smoke around my brain, of Zeke, of Kate, of myself, of various permutations of the three of us. Sometimes all three of us. “My favorite drink is a Cosmopolitan. I’ve always wanted to go white-water rafting. I’m bisexual.”

A sense of relief, like Atlas’ burden was suddenly taken away from me, came all at once. I’d never actually said it out loud before, never let myself say the word in reference to myself. I’d never… Admitted it. Never actually admitted that I liked guys. Zeke, yes, but not guys in general. It was scary, as if I were afraid that people would look at me differently, as if I would be different, as if things between Zeke and I would change if he knew…

But I’d wanted things to change. I’d just been too scared and too stupid to try to make it happen.

“You don’t really seem like a white-water rafting girl,” Kate said.

“She’s not,” Zeke said. “That one is the lie.”

I smiled. They hadn’t even blinked. Neither of them had. Thank God. “Guilty as charged,” I said as I took another hit.

***

“Oh, yeah, I should probably give these back,” Kate said, reaching down her dress and pulling out the falsies.

“Keep ‘em,” I said, shaking my head.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I said.

Zeke had passed out, and was lying across the couch while Kate and I sat on the floor painting each other’s toenails. The hours had worn on, and on, and on, and both of us were so damned stoned it was clear that Kate wasn’t gonna be driving any time soon. She texted her parents that she would be home in time for her shift tomorrow. The clock was getting close to striking twelve, but the princess wasn’t leaving anytime soon. I was painting her nails pink, because she seemed like that kinda girl, while she was doing mine red, because I was that kind of girl.

“I just,” Kate said, “I feel like it’s gonna create expectations I can’t live up to, once my boobs actually start growing in.”

“Pffffttttt.”

“What?”

“I think you’ll be fine.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean your mom has got big bountiful bimbo bazongas, so you’ll probably have them as well.”

“What?!”

“Milf’s got them tig ol’ bitties-”

“Yeah, I heard you, I was just flabbergasted. Also, did you just refer to my mother as ‘milf.’”

“I calls it like I sees it. Just like I sees them honkin’ hooters-”

“You’re really determined to milk this joke, aren’t you?” Kate monotoned.

I cackled. “Was that on purpose?”

She smirked. “Might have been.”

“This conversation is udderly ridiculous,” Zeke said, his eyes still closed.

“You’re awake?!” Kate and I both shouted.

“Hard to sleep when you two are being so loud,” he laughed.

I felt myself blush; I SAW Kate blush. Honestly, it was a relief, knowing it wasn’t just me.

***

Morning came, and I woke up on the floor, snuggling something warm and soft, and smelling something greasy and delicious. I opened my eyes to find myself resting my head on Kate’s shoulder while we both leaned against the front of the couch, Lacus shoved between us as a shared neck-pillow. I slowly pulled myself away, making sure the plush seal was safely nestled in Kate’s arms, letting my eyes drift over to the kitchen.

Zeke was hard at work, cooking bacon and hash browns together on the cast iron skillet, while a plate of fresh strawberries sat in the center of the breakfast table next to a bowl of vanilla yogurt mixed with granola. The coffee maker fizzled with percolation, and our entire supply of orange juice had been placed into a glass pitcher I didn’t even know we owned.

“Dang, Underhill, pulling out all the stops,” I said as I wandered over to the kitchen and wafted the delicious smell of the breakfast food.

“It’s not too much, is it?” he said.

“Nah, I think you’ll be fine,” I said, leaning against the side of our stainless steel fridge.

“I just… Really wanted last night to be perfect, you know?”

“I get it. It seemed pretty great from where I was sitting though.”

“Yeah, but between Olivia and my parents and everything… It didn’t go quite as hoped. Thank you for helping out though- really came in clutch.”

“No problem,” I said, looking at the floor.

He looked at me, as if he were considering saying something. He opened his mouth.

I put a hand on his chest and said, “I was wrong about Kate. She’s fantastic. And she’s fantastic for you. Just don’t hurt her, okay? Everything is still new to her.”

He closed his mouth, and he nodded solemnly.

Part of me wished I’d let him say whatever it was he was about to say. I didn’t even know what it was, but it looked as if… No. No, I didn’t want to know. I’d had my window, let it hang open for a full year while I’d been too stubborn and too scared to go through it. Kate had seen the opening and jumped right on through because she was just braver than I was. She deserved him. I didn’t. And looking at her there, in that moment, the idea of doing anything to hurt her just seemed cruel beyond measure.

These two would work out. I’d move on. That was how it had to be.

“Breakfast is almost ready,” Zeke said.

“I’ll wake up sleeping beauty, then,” I said.

As I nudged Katie awake and led her groggy ass to the breakfast table, I took in the sight before me. I was happy if he was happy, and what was more… I was happy if she was happy too. If this was how it had to be… Then I could learn to live with it.

Chapter 16

Chapter Text

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'allare doing well :)

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***

Kate

Zeke and I ate dinner together again the next night, and the next night, and the next, and the next. Our second dinner we just went and got pizza, then took in a movie. Our third saw us eating at my place, while my parents playfully interrogated the young man as to his intentions towards me. Our fourth was at his place, and Faith was in attendance- mostly because she was the one who cooked for us. It was a delicious meal of grilled chicken sandwiches with a homemade cobb salad on the side. I didn’t realize she was the one doing that for us until I arrived and the food had already been prepared, and I was wracked with guilt at the realization. The poor girl was bending over backwards to help me, and being nothing but nice to me… I tried to invite her to stay, but she slipped off somewhere before I could even finish the offer.

We all had the week off from our respective fights, and none of us felt like going out, so we wound up spending Friday night all watching the fights together at my place.Jolly Roger, Tooth Fairy, Sparky-Sparky-Boom,andUltimate Frisbeeall took home victories.

At the end of the night, as Zeke and Faith were getting ready to leave, Faith was scrolling on her phone and then paused with what looked to be a panicked expression all over her face.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked. Zeke was standing in the doorway, me at the base of the stairs, and Faith between us.

“Um,” Faith said. “You’re trending on social media.”

“How’s that possible? I don’t have any social media accounts.”

“Well, um, someone tagged Zeke and I’s shared account with a photo that got posted,” she said. “And you’re in it.”

“What?” Zeke and I said simultaneously.

She showed us, revealing a picture of Zeke and I leaving the Indian restaurant together that past Monday. Revealing me in all my trans glory to the entire internet without my consent. “Who the hell-”

“Olivia,” Zeke growled.

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions,” Faith said.

“Who tagged us in the photo?” Zeke said.

“Let’s see here,” Faith said. “Who the heck is Eileen Portman?”

“TeamSparky-Sparky-Boom!” I said, grinding my teeth together. “They were at the restaurant on Monday night!”

“Goddammit,” Zeke said.

“Okay, let’s not freak out,” Faith said.

“Not freak out? Are you kidding me? This is the perfect time to freak out! That-that bitch! She’s my next opponent, she must have done this on purpose to rattle me! I’ll show her. I’ll crush her, I’ll-”

“Kate,” Zeke said.

“What?!”

“You’re doing it again.”

“What do you mean?”

“It,” Faith said. “You’re doing it. Your hands are bunched together.”

I looked down, to see my hands had indeed balled into fists. “Oh.”

Zeke walked over to me, putting his hands on my shoulders. “It’s okay. I know you’re upset. I know this feels awful. But you’re better than this. You don’t have to play the game on their terms.”

I looked up at this man, at my man, and the anger evaporated, replaced by a cool serenity and simple clarity. “You’re right. I still have a week to figure out my response. That’s plenty of time.”

“Exactly,” Zeke said. “You can get out in front of this.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Faith said. “Own your narrative. There’s got to be some way for you to respond to this without slipping back into your old persona.”

I breathed in deep through my nose. “I think I have one idea.”

***

I popped my first Estradiol pill when I woke up on Monday morning, letting the blue-green tablet melt under my tongue. It had a curious texture to it as it slowly dissolved, and I wanted to say it tasted like sugar, but it didn’t really taste like anything. I wanted to say I could feel it changing me right away, but that was ridiculous. What it did make me feel right away, though, was relief. And… Joy. A clean, pure joy that sang through my entire being, every fiber grateful as I took my first step towards changing my body to what I wanted it to be.

I was on my way, physically and mentally.

Now for the hard part.

I did my makeup, put on a blue and white sundress and a pair of strappy sandals, put in my four hours at the store, and then climbed in my car and headed to Gaines Auto Body and Bodybuilding.

I’d emailed Gaines’ social media publicists, Nadine, on Saturday morning, and we’d set up a meeting for the following Monday. I parked in the back of the shop and made my way in through the front, conscious of the dozens of ridiculously buff guys staring at me as I walked through the gym. Some were staring at me with recognition and contempt, others with bemusem*nt, others with confusion, and one or two with naked lust. I wasn’t really sure what to do with it all, so I just kept my head down and powered through.

I reached the back of the gym and knocked on a closed door, and when it opened, a young black woman with long, luscious braids and bold makeup stood on the other side. She was tall and slender, and wore big, horn-rimmed glasses over her brown eyes. She wore an orange shawl over a light blue tank top and darker blue jeans, while red converse all-stars adorned her feet. A diamond engagement ring rested on her finger, shining proudly even in the cheap, artificial radiance of the overhead light. “Hi!” she exclaimed, effortless enthusiasm pouring out of her.

“Uh… Hi!” I said, doing my best to match her immense energy.

“You’re Katherine, right?” she said, opening the door wider and gesturing me into the office.

“Uh, Kate, but yeah, that’s me,” I said. Her office was carpeted, with teal-painted walls and sleek metal desk in the corner. A bi pride flag hung over the wall, along with a framed copy of a college diploma from CSU Long Beach that read ‘Nadine Palmer.’

“So, I got your email, and first off, I wanna say, I am so, so sorry that happened to you,” Nadine said, gesturing to the bean bag chair that sat in front of her desk as she traipsed over to the regular chair on the other side. Seriously, what was with this place and weird seating arrangements?

I sat down in the bean bag chair, surprised by how soft and comfy it was. “Thank you. I… I gotta be honest, I have no idea what to do now. I’ve never really been a social media person, but I know I want a new image going forward.”

“Tired of the whole ‘macho bravado’ thing, I take it?” She said, offering me a sympathetic look.

“Yeah, it, uh… Well, it served its purpose,” I said. “And now it doesn’t, anymore.”

“I completely understand. My fiance, Greg, went through the opposite version of it.”

“How do you mean?”

She looked at me for a second.

“Oh, he’s-”

“Yes, exactly,” she said. “Used to have no idea how to stand up for himself, the poor man. But people can change.”

“Absolutely,” I nodded.

“So, I think we should start by building an Insta profile for you, something that makes you seem friendly and approachable, and take it from there. Sounds good?”

“Sounds great!”

“More broadly, though, do you have any idea what kind of gimmick you’d like to go for?” Nadine asked.

“I… I don’t know yet,” I said. “Do you think… For now, we could just focus on the bare bones stuff, get me ready for my first big public appearance as myself?”

“Totally fine,” Nadine said. “Mind if I ask you a personal, transition related question?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Have you started HRT yet?”

“Just took the first pill this morning,” I said.

“Good, good. Here’s my pitch then: transition timeline. One photo of you every week, dolled up and looking gorgeous like you are now,” Nadine said.

I smiled.

“Then we compile the timeline while the hormones work their magic slowly.”

“I like this plan!” I said.

“Thought you would. Once you’re further along, we can decide on a more specific gimmick for you going forward. For now, though, who’s ready for a photo shoot?”

I mustered up my best smile. “I am.”

“That’s the spirit!” she said.

***

The shoot flew by faster than expected, and so did the rest of the week as I finished repairs on Polyphemus in preparation for my fight. The bot was finished, ready inside my truck, and I sat in the driver’s seat in the parking lot, that damn parking lot where so much had happened to me, clutching the steering wheel with my seatbelt still fastened and the door still locked.

“You okay?” Zeke said from the passenger’s side. He’d ridden in with me, while Faith and my parents were meeting us there. Zeke was originally going to do the same, but… He’d offered to keep me company on the ride over, and my heart freaking sang when he did. He’d been at my side through so much of this… Part of me wondered if I really deserved him. Part of me wondered if Faith deserved him more.

But he wanted to be with me. He’d said as much. Granted, we’d both agreed to keep our relationship on the down-low at work, at least for the time being, but still… That he was there with me, to help prop me up, was amazing. “I’ve… Been better. Nervous, mostly. But I’ll be fine. Got all my repairs done before the match, got my outfit already-”

“You look gorgeous, by the way,” he said, gesturing to my black skirt and pink hoodie combination.

“Oh, stop,” I said, smiling bashfully and playfully waving my hand at him.

“Hey, just being honest,” he said. “My girlfriend looks gorgeous, I’m gonna tell her as much.”

My jaw dropped, but my lips slowly curved upwards into a smile as his words sank in. We both sat there a moment, a change in the atmosphere between us making itself readily apparent. “D-did… Did you just use the g-word?”

“Heh. I think so,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“I mean I just… We’ve been seeing each other pretty much nonstop for a few weeks now, we’ve made out a bunch of times, your dad even gave me the whole speech-”

“Yeah,” I said, warmth and giddiness exploding in me like a Fourth of July fireworks display.Girlfriend, I thought as euphoria and attraction swirled together.

“If you’re not comfortable putting labels on it yet-”

I unbuckled my seatbelt, reached over, grabbed his face and kissed him. Our lips pressed together, his stubble scratching and tickling my carefully made-up face. I opened my mouth up further, pushing my tongue towards him, and after a nanosecond’s hesitation, he let it in. We Frenched for a few minutes, only the utmost willpower pulling me away from the magnetic connection that held the two of us together. I didn’t want to stop, but I knew if I didn’t, I’d be inviting him to tear off all my clothes. And putting aside the part where I wasn’t sure either of us were ready for that, it was a work night.

“Okay,” I said, my voice breathy and girly, half-purr and half-whisper, my nose pressed against his. “I’m your girlfriend. You’re my boyfriend.” The euphoria and the giddiness tripled, quadrupled, quintupled. Everything felt clear and simple and right, as if I’d unlocked some higher sense of understanding myself and him and the both of us together. Of how we were more together than we were apart.

“Okay,” he smiled.

I kissed him one more time for luck, and said, “Let’s light this candle.”

Zeke helped me wheelPolyphemusinto the arena. The first two fights of the evening had already gone down, and I handed my intro monologue card to the appropriate person. They read off my speech and introduced me, with Derek and Marty making note of a few adjustments I’d made.

“Well, it seems this is a season of change, Derek,” Marty said into the microphone. “First Faith Watanabe, and now Kate Calloway as well.”

“Exciting times we live in, Marty,” Derek said. “Wonder what other surprisesTeam Polyphemushas in store for us tonight.

“AND IN THE RED CORNER,” came the next monologue, roared to life by our glorious master of ceremonies, “This bot, is DA BOMB! It’s got an EXPLOSIVE PERSONALITY, and it’ll spin your head RIGHT ROUND RIGHT ROUND! It’s SPARKY-SPARKY-BOOM!”

Mr. and Mrs. Portman stood across from me, both clapping along to their own applause. Their bot was… An interesting design.

A bomb. It looked like a big black bomb, mostly spherical, but with a rotating horizontal spinner consisting of a massive saw blade wrapped around it. The nub at the top of it looked like a wick but was, in reality, a spout that shot fire.

Fire-breather against fire-breather it was.

We were led into our respective boxes while our bots were wheeled onto the floor of the arena. “Hey there!” Mrs. Portman called out to me from her box, a smile I couldn’t decide on the veracity of gleaming across her face. Her husband, for his part, had adopted a smug smirk.

“Hi,” I said awkwardly.

“Good luck tonight!”

“Thanks, you too,” I said, my voice dipping low.

“Oops, be careful about that voice,” Mrs. Portman said. “There’s cameras and microphones everywhere, you know.”

“Yeah, I picked up on that when you posted me on Insta without my consent,” I snapped.

“Oh please, I did you a favor- you had no exposure on any socials, it was time you made your big high society debut,” Mrs. Portman said.

White hot anger flashed inside me like a lightning bolt. “Lady, where the hell do you get off-”

“ROBOTS! ACTIVATE!” screamed the mechanical announcer.

Mrs. Portman punched her button and then gave me a mocking wave.

“We’re finishing this conversation later,” I said.

“I sure hope we are!” she smiled.

I grunted.Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm.I punched the button, and the bot battle began.

The thing with horizontal spinners was that they had a built-in defense system, provided they didn’t take any major hits before they achieved full speed. Which meant there was a limited amount of time before my attacks would stop being as effective. Normally, a simple weapon like my katana would be able to jam the spinning blades before they could get to full power.

But I hadn’t brought my katana that night. For tonight, I’d gone with a throwback and attached the axPolyphemus.It would slow me down, but coming at this opponent from above made more sense to me than an attempted shot to the proverbial heart.

Sparky-Sparky-Boomwas faster than it looked- it came charging at me right out the gate, Mr. Portman stoic and stern as he piloted the bot. I didn’t move, didn’t even attempt to pivot. I just waited, waited, waited-

I slammed the trigger on my ax as SSB closed the gap, and my ax pile-drived into my opponent’s spinning hacksaw. Their weapon shattered, sliced down the middle and torn off its axis.

“OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT! KATE CALLOWAY HAS MADE A BRUTAL OPENING STATEMENT WITH A CRUSHING BLOW, DISABLINGSPARKY-SPARKY-BOOM’SPRIMARY WEAPON WITH A SWING OF THE AX!” Marty screamed.

“Nice shot, ‘girly,’” Mrs. Portman said, adding air quotes to the final word. Jerk. “Can you handle the heat, though?”

With that, her husband barrelled forward and rammed me the second I’d withdrawn my ax, pouring on the heat from its fire-spout as it used its greater weight to simply push me towards the screws.

Dammit!

I slammed the trigger on my ax again, hoping to power it up quickly, all while trying to get myself out of SSB’s terrible momentum, but it none of my controls moved fast enough, and the next thing I knew I was shoved directly into the rotating screws as the blades took chunks out of Poly’s backside. Dammit!

Ten seconds elapsed, and SSB was forced to back off.

Mrs. Portman said something, with that smug grin plastered to her face as she worked the controls on her flamethrower, but I didn’t hear it. I didn’t care what it was. I couldn’t tell if she was being serious or if she was just playing the heel like I always had. And I didn’t care about that, either. I just knew I wanted to win.

I flanked left around the bomb-shaped bot, taking advantage of its weight and slow turn time, bathing it in flames from both my flamethrowers while my ax got itself ready. SSB kept trying to turn, and I let myself slow down just an instant.

SSB shot straight for me, and I pivoted Poly and brought the ax down on them again, slamming it directly into their flamethrower and setting loose a small explosion as a spark lit against the leaking fuel. I pried my ax free and went on the retreat, while SSB, wobbling on its axis, crawled towards me, hoping to ram me again.

I tried the same trick again, but my ax wasn’t working- dammit, the fire must have disabled the controls! SSB rammed me, pushing me towards the rising kill saws in the center of the box, and all I could do was pour on the fire as the larger bot shoved me around like a ragdoll.

I spewed fire, fire, fire, until finally, SSB started to smoke in all the wrong places and its engine gave off a sickly, wheezing, sputtering sound. It slowed down, slower, slower, slower. Half an inch from the kill saw behind it, Poly managed to stop SSB in its tracks, bringing the bomb-shaped bot to a halt entirely.

Once the kill saws went down, I drove out of the way, and the countdown started as SSB found itself entirely stationary.

“-3, 2, 1- that’s the fight!” the ref decreed as the alarm sounded and the crowd went wild.

I was half-tempted to do my usual fist-pump, to scream and jeer, to make a big stupid macho display of myself… But I didn’t want that. So instead, I gave a simple curtsey and then ambled over to the interview.

“So, Kate Calloway, two wins in a row, and this the first one as the new you,” Derek Benes said into the microphone. “Did everything go according to plan tonight?”

“Oh, there was no plan,” I admitted, scratching the back of my head and laughing awkwardly. “I’d never faced the Portmans before, I was mostly just winging it. Except for the ax, that was planned, but even then I had to improvise.”

“Anything to say to your upcoming opponents now that you have a winning record? The regular season is winding down, and you’re still gonna need another win to make it into the tournament.”

I looked for words within, looked for a version of my usual bullsh*t that wouldn’t give me dysphoria. Maybe… Maybe I should just try to do the opposite of what I would normally do. What was the worst that could happen?

“Just that I’m really looking forward to fighting each and every one of you,” I said with the sincerest smile I could muster. “May the best bot win!”

Derek bid me farewell, and I pulled the sledge carrying my bot into the pits. Half of the wires were fried, and the ax was gonna need sharpening, and I’d gone through a month’s worth of flamethrower fuel in the span of three minutes, but… But dammit, I’d won, and I hadn’t made an ass of myself for a change. I was proud of myself.

It was a new feeling.

“Hey there,” Mrs. Portman said as she walked up to me.

Crap. This was gonna be difficult.

“Hi,” I managed.

“Good fight,” she said.

“It was.”

“Don’t think you’ll win a second time, though,” she said, that passive-aggressive smile never leaving her face. “I underestimated you tonight. It won’t happen again.”

“Well, hopefully you trying to dox someone on social media won’t happen again either,” I said, planting my feet and putting my hands on my hips.

“I’d hardly call what I did doxxing-”

“Maybe not, but I wouldn’t call it a good thing to do, either.”

“Oh please, I did you a favor.”

I scowled. “A favor? You call that a favor?”

“Yeah,” she said, folding her arms behind her back. “Forced your hand and made you think about how you present yourself, carry yourself. Given that you’ve clearly never spared a moment’s thought to that before this past week, I’d say I did you a favor.”

I gritted my teeth. Unbelievable; this jerk was trying to turn this around on me. I bunched my fists together, feeling the screams coming from deep within my belly.

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder from behind. “I think what she’s trying to say is that she would have appreciated you asking her before you did something like that,” Zeke said, putting his arm around me and standing by my side.

A fluttering joy sang through me as I stood with him, as he protected me, as he helped me protect the person I wanted to be.

“Hm. Well, agree to disagree,” Mrs. Portman said as her husband came over and stood beside her.

The four of us all glared at each other, until finally, I started laughing. The Portmans stared at me in confusion and irritation for a moment, and then Zeke started laughing too. The Portmans left while Zeke and I kept standing there laughing like idiots.

Faith approached us from the back entrance and said, “Uh, what are you two laughing about?”

“Oh, just how ridiculous this all is,” I said.

“And how ridiculous those two are,” Zeke said.

“And how ridiculous I am,” I said.

“Hey now, come on, what did you say about being mean to yourself?”

I exhaled heavily. “That I’d do it less?”

“Yes, exactly. You won tonight, and you had a successful debut. We should celebrate.”

“Sounds great!” I said. I turned to Faith and said, “You wanna come with?”

She hesitated, but finally said, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure?” Zeke asked.

“I’m sure,” she said, heading for the exit. “I’m gonna go home and get some sleep. You two have fun though!”

She smiled, and she waved, but as she left, I couldn’t help but notice the sadness in her eyes.

Chapter 17

Chapter Text

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'allare doing well :)

Don't forget you can read three chapters ahead on this story, twenty chapters ahead on "A Dream of Summer Rain", and two chapters ahead on "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

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Thank you so much for your continued supportof my work! Every little bit helps me to keep going :)

And now, back to our regularly scheduled nerdy romcom shenanigans!

***

Zeke

4 Years Ago

“Hey there,” I said as I walked through the Lair, our school’s main cafeteria, renowned for its aggressively mediocre food. It was a wide room divided into two halves, and overlooked an admittedly gorgeous lawn leading to the big white chapel that was on all of our brochures. The lighting was dim in the late evening hours- the cafeteria was closing in less than an hour, but I’d been so busy at the library trying to get caught up on everything that I’d barely even looked at the time. And then my stomach growled and I realized I hadn’t eaten in almost twelve hours, at which point I braved the thousand yard trek from the library to the Lair. I’d managed to acquire a club sandwich for myself and searched far and wide across the cafeteria in search of someone, anyone, I even remotely knew, anything to say I was at least making some goddamn friends finally. I traversed all the way to the far end, overlooking the law, where, atop a pleather seat in a booth eating a caesar salad, I found someone. “It’s Watanabe, right? Don’t we have two classes together?”

The rumpled, exhausted looking boy with the shaggy black hair falling around his face looked up from his salad and his phone and made eye contact with me, seeming legitimately startled that anyone was talking to him. “Oh, uh, yeah, I think so. But, I… Uh, I don’t think I remember your name?”

“Zeke Underhill,” I smiled. “Mind if I sit? This place looks haunted at night, figured it’s better to have strength in numbers.”

He laughed weakly. “Yeah, I suppose so. Uh, go ahead and sit. I don’t know if I’m that great of company, though.”

“I mean you’re here, aren’t you?” I said. “That’s all that’s required.”

“Yeah, but I meant, like, conversationally.”

“We’re talking right now, aren’t we?”

He gave another weak laugh, filtered through a snort. “Yeah, I guess. Anything else you wanna talk about?”

“You ready for Professor Eddington’s test next week?”

“We have a test? Already?” Watanabe leaned forward, panic encroaching on his acne-marked face.

“Yeah, he announced it yesterday,” I said.

“sh*t.”

“You were there yesterday- I saw you,” I pointed out.

“I… Was distracted.”

“By what?”

He did a conspiratorial double-take, then pulled up an image on his phone and slid it over to me. “I call herDai Gurren.”

“Oh, awesome!” I said. “Like fromGurren Lagan?”

“Yeah! You a fan?”

“Huge- love anime. Giant robots for days,” I said.

“Awesome!” he said. “What are your favorites?”

“Uh, Gundam, especially SEED and IBO. Raxephon, Mazinger Z, IGPX-”

“I! G! P! X!” he said, fist pumping at each letter. It was certainly something- he’d practically come alive once we’d both started speaking the shared language of nerd. We wound up talking for a while after that, and he invited me to hang out in his dorm’s common room with him the next night to watchPlanet With. So, I headed over there at 8 PM, into a beige room with a collection of couches and desks and a plasma screen television adorning the far wall.

A girl was there with him, short and black with great hair and huge… Tracts of land.

“Zeke, this is my girlfriend, Olivia,” he said. “Olivia, this is Zeke, from our class with Eddington.”

“Nice to meet you,” Olivia said, half-heartedly offering a handshake.

I picked up on a disappointed vibe from her before even making hand-contact. “You too. Hey, uh, if you guys wanna have a date night, I can scram-”

“No, it’s fine,” Watanabe said.

I noted the frustrated look on Olivia’s face right away. “Aaaare you sure, Watanbe?”

“Please, call me Frank,” he said. “And yeah, it’s fine. Olivia and I wanted to ask you something, anyway.”

“We did?” Olivia said.

“Yeah, we did,” Frank furrowed his brow. “But not till later. For now, let’s watch this weird freaking show!”

And so we did, though after an episode, Olivia and Frank started making out right next to me. I tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the tv, but then it kept going the entirety of the second episode.

“I’ll see myself out,” I said, getting up from the uncomfortable couch and heading for the door.

Frank pulled himself off of his girlfriend for five seconds and managed to grab me by the back of my shirt. “Wait! WAIT! Not yet!”

I rolled my eyes and gave a mild exhale. “What’s up?”

“Still need to ask you something!”

“Then fire away,” I said, struggling not to laugh.

“Do you wanna join our robotics team?” he asked. “I want at least three of us for it, and based on our conversation yesterday, I’d say you really know your stuff.”

I turned around and looked at Frank, all pleading and hopeful and earnest and enthusiastic, while also noting Olivia’s face- annoyed, frustrated, but some of that was seemingly aimed at herself more than at me.

“Sure,” I said. I mean what the hell, it would be the closest thing I had to a social life. What was the worst that could happen?

***

NOW

Kate stood on her tip toes as she kissed me goodnight under the lamppost on the corner of my street, her lips wet and slick from her lipstick, her tongue entering my mouth as mine entered hers, her hands on my chest as mine squeezed her butt. She giggled, and gave me one more peck on the cheek. “You have a good night, Mr. Underhill?”

“I had a great night, Ms. Calloway,” I said, drinking in the cherry-blossom scent of her perfume. “Sure I can’t convince you to come up for a night-cap?”

“My heart says yes, my brain and body say I’m exhausted after tonight,” she said. “Say hi to Faith for me, though. Let’s all hang out again this week, yeah?”

“Definitely,” I said.

She turned around and started to scamper off, but then pivoted around and ran back to me and kissed me one more time. I stood there, stunned as she ran off again, but I smiled anyway. ‘Hate to see her leave, love to watch her walk away’ as she herself admitted she’d once thought about me.

I ambled up to my apartment, the witching hour long since past, whistling ‘Feel Good Inc’ under my breath as I turned on the hallway light and took off my leather jacket. Kate and I had gottenIn ‘N’ Outand eaten our burgers together in the back of her truck while parked on top of a cliff in the Hollywood Hills. We looked out into the city and just… Talked. About us. About the tournament. About Kate’s whole ‘image makeover’ plan. I’d never been great at the self-promotion stuff, but she seemed to be taking to it relatively well.

And then, you know… We made out a bunch. Started getting a little frisky but stopped short of outright fooling around. We weren’t there yet, and Kate admitted she wasn’t sure if she was totally comfortable exploring her body like that at the moment. At least not until she was further along in her transition. Still, it wasn’t an absolute, and she’d even said if there was anyone she’d wanted to explore it with

I jumped when I saw Faith laying on the couch, staring up at her phone whileAll My Childrenplayed on mute from the tv screen. A handle of vodka sat on the coffee-table, significantly reduced in contents compared to when I’d last laid eyes on it. “Hey,” I said, walking over to the couch. “You okay?”

“No,” she said. “I’m drinking alone- does that sound okay to you?”

“It definitely doesn’t,” I said, sitting on the floor in front of the couch, pushing aside the table to make some room for me in this equation. “What’s going on? Who are you texting?”

“I’m not texting anyone,” Faith said, rolling onto her side and facing me. “I’m contemplating texting Olivia.”

“Oh?” I said, swatting her hand away when she tried to reach for the vodka. “What are you contemplating texting her?”

She looked at me with a tortured expression. “Please don’t make me say it.”

“Okay, I won’t make you say it. But if you don’t, then I can’t help talk you down from this proverbial ledge, girl,” I said.

She pouted. Which was in no way cute, definitely not, I definitely wasn’t still thinking that about her. Not in the slightest. “I miss her.”

My jaw dropped, and I blinked. Hard. “What?”

“I… She… I miss her.”

“You… Miss her. After what she did to you, you miss her?”

“She apologized,” Faith said weakly.

“After what she did to Kate, you miss her?”

“Kate started it,” Faith said with a wave of her hand.

My eyes narrowed.

“Okay, that’s not a great line of internal logic, I know,” she said, sitting up and crossing her legs. “But like… Kate did provoke her.”

“What are you gonna say next? That you provoked Olivia into cussing you out when you-”

“Don’t go there, Zeke,” Faith snapped. “And don’t… Don’t make that comparison, please.”

“Okay, but can you please consider this from my perspective for a moment?” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Olivia has now been weird and hostile about two trans girls coming out to her- one is my best friend, the other is my girlfriend.”

Her eyes, previously fixed on our rotating ceiling fan, shot towards me. “Girlfriend?”

“Y-yeah,” I said, flinching at her intensity. “We’re… Uh, well, we’re putting labels on it now.”

“How long has that been a thing?”

“About,” I started, then checked the clock on the homescreen of my phone, “Five hours?”

“I see.”

“What?” I asked.

“... Nothing.”

“Don’t do that, Faith,” I said, “If you’ve something to say, please just say it.”

“...”

“Faith.”

“...”

“Faith!” I said. No, no, stop getting angry with her- she’s drunk, you’ve dealt with drunk people plenty of times without losing your temper. She’s drunk and she’s lovesick and she’s dealing with the uncomfortable truth that someone she loved might not exactly be the best person ever.

Then again, it wasn’t like I was in any way unbiased where Olivia Root was concerned.

I inhaled and exhaled through my nose, letting the fresh air filter up into my brain and clear out all the junk. “Actually, it’s okay. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through with all this, you don’t have to tell me anything that you don’t want to tell me.”

“But I do wanna tell you, I just… Can’t,” she said, looking down at me, hair framing her face beautifully, freshly-shaven legs stretched across the couch…

NO, NO, BAD!I thought instantly.You have a girlfriend. Do not check out Faith like that. You are not gonna be like Dad.“Okay,” I said, “If you can’t, then you can’t. Just please, please don’t text Olivia the ‘I miss you’ text- I’m really worried about what’s down that road.”

She nodded sagely… And then hiccuped. I suppressed a chuckle

She failed to suppress hers, which I didn’t not think was cute.She’s. Just. A. Friend.I repeated the mantra in my mind over and over again.

“How was your date?” she asked.

“Really nice,” I said.

She winced. I squinted. Was she… Okay, no, no, no, no.Don’t read into that. Just don’t. Nothing good down that road either.

“Kate really is something, isn’t she?” Faith asked.

“Yeah,” I smiled, the image flickering in my mind of her on my lap in the back of that truck, the city below us and the stars above, all the time and opportunity in the world. I felt like I could be whoever I wanted to be when I was around her, and I knew she felt the same about me. “I’m… I’m glad you two have become friends.”

She gave a smile I couldn’t help but think looked a bit bitter, and said, “I am too.”

That was when both of our phones went off. We checked them, and I saw an alert from the robot fighting tournament committee. Next week’s fights had been announced. Faith and I’s next fight had been announced.

“Oh, crap,” we both said at the same time.

***

9 Months Ago

“Hey, uh, Zeke?”

“What’s up, Faithy?” I said, sitting at the kitchen table and eating a plate of turkey sausage and scrambled eggs while scrolling through some onboarding documents on my laptop that I had to read for a temp job that started tomorrow. Help getting a new type of passenger plane ready- they needed extra workers for a few months, but there was no chance of it leading to anything full-time. Perfect, as far as I was concerned.

Faith was having a bit more trouble finding temp jobs since she started her transition a few months back- nobody said out loud they didn’t wanna hire her because she was trans, but it was hard for her- or me, for that matter- to take it any other way when she was a bloody genius engineer and yet they kept hiring other folks from our graduating class who I knew weren’t as smart as her.

Such as me, for example.

“Will you take me bra shopping?” she asked. She stood in the doorway to her room, wearing a baggy black and gold West Point football jersey over her long red skirt. Interesting fashion choice in the middle of the last gasp of the baking summer heat.

I nearly spat out my black coffee. “Um… Yes?”

“Really? You mean it? I don’t wanna inconvenience you-”

“I’m just a little confused as to why you want me to go with you. Did you suddenly forget how to drive?”

“No, it’s not that,” Faith said. “I just… Look, my breasts are budding and my nipples are all poking through my tops, but I don’t really pass yet, so I’m kinda scared to go bra shopping alone, okay?”

I tilted my head, looking at the five-foot-three-inch girl with the perfect hair and the perfect makeup, and sincerely wondered how anyone could see anything other than a young woman. “Alright, sure. Just gimme a few minutes.”

“Are you sure- I know you’ve gotta read and sign all that stuff by tomorrow-”

“It can wait a few hours,” I said, closing my laptop and standing up.

As I made my way for my bedroom to put my computer away, Faith asked, “Can I hug you?”

She’d been asking that a lot, lately. “You know you don’t always have to ask, right?”

“Yeah, but, I… I don’t wanna make anyone uncomfortable,” she said, looking at her feet as they traced the surface of the floor.

I smiled gently. “You could never make me uncomfortable, Faith.”

“I did that one time, when Olivia and I kept making out right next to you-”

“Yeah, but that’s her fault for being a jackass,” I said.

Faith glared at me.

“Sorry,” I said, “Forgot I wasn’t supposed to do that.”

I stepped around her, but then she grabbed a fistful of the back of my shirt again. I chuckled, then turned around and hugged her.

And then I felt something, two somethings, poking my chest.

My eyes bulged. “Uh, Faith-”

Her eyes did the same, and she leapt off of me. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” I said, laughing nervously, scratching the back of my head.

Silence, so awkward it belonged in an episode ofThe Office, sat over the room.

Finally, Faith broke it: “Well, uh, do you get the point now?”

My mouth curved up into a smile.

“Or do you need another poke?” she said, looking ready to mug for the proverbial camera.

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Just the tips, right?” she said.

And I laughed, waaaaayyy harder than I should have at puns that stupid. And she giggled at her own joke, swaying back and forth as she stood there, light from the window scattering around her hair like a brilliant halo, framing her in all her awkward, ridiculous, degenerate, glory. And I saw her. I saw HER. And she was the same person I’d met all those years ago, but everything that had always been good about her- her heart, her humor, her sincerity- had all been amplified twenty fold and was now wrapped up in a very pretty package.

A shot of emotion, hot and fierce and downright ravenous, went through my heart and pumped through the rest of my body. Yearning, desire,attraction, all slamming into me like a violent tide.

Oh, crap, I thought.

***

Present Day

The names ‘George Gregson’ and‘Pendulum’loomed large in the robotics community. Winning five championships and only having four total losses in the professional circuit to your name over a decade-spanning career tended to have that effect. Faith and I had been lucky enough to not have to face him at all our freshman season, and that he’d been knocked out of the championships due to mechanical failure in the semi-finals.

Yes, that’s right- Kate had beaten the guy. On a technicality- his engine just overheated and shorted out within ten seconds of the match starting. Kate hadn’t landed a single blow against the guy before experiencing victory by default, something even she admitted was pretty hollow. But it was also the only reason she’d gotten to the finals. Which was probably the only reason Faith and I had won last year, because I was convinced we would lose toPendulumin a fair fight. Olivia and Faith had a similar opinion on our prospects against Gregson last season.

And given Gregson already had a 3-0 record and was basically guaranteed a spot in the championship bracket, I saw no reason for this season to be any different.

Faith and I stood in our rented garage in Culver City, looking atDai Gurren, wondering what, precisely, the hell we were going to do.

“This is bad, Zeke,” Faith said.

“I know it’s bad, Faithy,” I replied.

“Please don’t call me that anymore,” she said, somewhat curtly.

I blinked. “Ooookay,” I said, hoping the bite wasn’t too obvious in my voice.

If it was, she didn’t notice, or at least pretended not to. “We need to win both of our remaining fights if we want a spot in the championship.”

“I am aware of this,” I said, breaking the power tools out of their plastic containers. Drills. Lots of drills. Appropriately enough. “So, Ms. Chief Engineer/Team Captain: how do we approach this?”

Faith took out a drill and pulled on a pair of safety goggles. “We work with what we’ve got. Also, text Kate the address and tell her to meet us here. I have an idea.”

I fired off the text, and then Faith and I started disassembling the front ofDai Gurrenand removing the maw of six small drills. We replaced them with much larger, thicker drills, all made of titanium and sharp enough to puncture sheet iron. And which, hopefully, would stand up toPendulum’sswing of death a bit better.

Pendulumwas the type of unconventional bot that worked primarily through raw power. It was tall and cylindrical, painted jet black and made of carbon steel. Down the middle was a hammer that was normally nestled safely inside a slot, held in place by a magnet, but a flip of Gregson’s control panel caused the magnet to turn over to a reversed charge magnet that repelled the metal hammer with a terrifying concussive impact. I’d seen it undercut bots and tear their faceplates off, shatter weapons and crush wheels and brutalize engines. It was perfectly designed to destroy flippers and spinners, and most drills and other melee weapons weren’t safe to use in a direct assault. You had to come atPendulumfrom an angle, stay out of its range. That was its only real weakness- the angle of its attack was limited to what was right in front of it.

Which would be less of a problem if Gregson weren’t also a ridiculously good driver. So good, the only driver I could imagine having even a fraction of a chance against him was…

Entering the garage right that moment, wearing ripped jeans and a purple tank top, her hair tied back and her face sans-makeup. “Hello there!”

I smiled. “General K-”

“We don’t have time,” Faith said. “Hey, Kate. Did you bring the stuff?”

“Poly’s in my truck,” she said, hitching her thumb back and pointing to the parking lot outside. “I’m not crazy about incurring a bunch of damage outside the box though.”

“Then it’s a good thing this will be a no-contact match,” Faith said. “We just need to work on our driving.” She pointed at me without making eye contact. “We both do.”

Okay, this was getting a little ridiculous. But now probably wasn’t the time or the place, so I let it slide.

We cleared out the workstation, swept the floor clean, and put the bots on the ground:Polyphemus, Dai Gurren,andGurren, our minibot. It was barely the size of Faith’s handbag, with a single drill protruding from the front. But we would need every weapon in our arsenal if we had a snowball’s chance in hell on this one.

“Ready?” Kate asked from the other side of our garage.

“Ready,” Faith said.

“Ready,” I said, not feeling at all ready. This, a match against Kate, felt… Wrong. Even a training match, a glorified game of two-hand-touch football, felt distinctly off when fought against my girlfriend.

Which could pose a serious problem going forward.

Polyphemus’ ax was still attached, meaning it was moving slower than it would normally. Which was good-Pendulum’sslow and steady speed was one thing we could plan for. Even still, Kate hurdled towards us, dividing our two bots down the middle and pivoting left very suddenly to aim for DG. Faith went on the retreat, letting Poly chase DG in circles before suddenly changing direction while I went after Kate from behind.

That was when Kate shot left again and went on the retreat; Poly slid over to my feet and skidded into a sharp turn as both DG and regular G were giving chase.

I flanked wide and went around the room counterclockwise, going towards Poly at its center before banking right and connecting, very lightly, with its wheel. Faith did the same with its other side.

“You got me!” Kate said. “Great job!”

“Thanks!” I smiled.

“It’s not good enough,” Faith said.

“Huh?” I said.

“We need to be on the offensive the entire time, both of us. Gregson is relentless- he will not give us the chance to get our bearings. Let’s go again.”

And because she was, objectively speaking, correct, I nodded, and we went again.

Kate didn’t make it easy on us, forcing us to scramble for enough ground to try and attack her from the sides, but after a few minutes we managed it.

But it wasn’t good enough for Faith, so we went again.

And again.

And again, and again, and again, a few more times after that, until we all ran out of fuel.

“Okay, I think we’re done for the day,” I finally said.

“What are you talking about?” Faith said.

“We can’t expend any more of our fuel budget if we wanna be able to comp Katie for helping us today,” I said. “Which you agreed to do- in fact, you suggested it.”

“That… Okay, yeah, fair enough,” Faith said.

“Good fight, y’all,” Kate said, walking over and taking her goggles off, then taking mine off of my face and poking my nose playfully. “Boop.”

I smiled, and probably looked like a huge dork.

Kate went to do the same with Faith, but swatted her hand away.

“Sorry,” Kate said.

“You really need to work on not touching people all the time without warning!” Faith said with a nasty grimace and a clenched jaw.

Kate’s eyes dropped. “Sorry.”

My eyes narrowed. “Little hostile there, Faithy, don’t you think?”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that!” she snapped.

I balked, then raised a finger and took a step forward. “What is going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what aren’t you telling me?” I said. “Because it’s clearly something- you’ve said as much.”

“I also said I didn’t wanna tell you.”

“And that’s fair. But what isn’t fair is you taking out your frustration over that fact on me and especially on my girlfriend!”

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Kate said, holding up both hands and offering a conciliatory smile.

“Like hell it isn’t- you came all the way over here to help us, your competition, do better in a fight, in spite of the risks to your bot and having to take time away from your own stuff to do this,” I said, “And Faith rewards you by acting like a drill sergeant and then hissing at you!”

“Oh for- don’t do that! Don’t use your girlfriend like a talking point in your argument. Your problem is with me, don’t make it about how she and I are trying to establish boundaries!” Faith said.

“You both know I’m standing right here, yeah?” Kate said flatly.

“Yes!” Faith and I both shouted.

Kate stared at us… Actually, glared is probably the better word. “I can’t believe I’m the rational one in this room right now. That literally never happens.”

I winced. “You’re right, I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine,” she said, “This isn’t actually about me. You both think it is, but it’s really not.”

“Kate,” Faith whined.

“What does that mean?” I asked.Oh no. Oh no no no.

“It means-”

“Don’t!” Faith snapped again. “It is not your place to tell him that!”

“Tell me what?!” I shouted.Please, say it ain’t so.

Kate breathed in through her nose slowly, then out through her mouth with equal speed and purpose. “Tell you guys what- I’m gonna run to the gas station on the corner, get us all some sodas. And while I’m gone, you two can hash this out.”

“Please don’t,” Faith said.

“Watanabe, seriously, it’s time to face the truth,” Kate said. “It really will set you free.”

She turned on her heel and left before either Faith or I could stop her.

Leaving the two of us there with nothing but the proverbial elephant in the room. Dread gnawed at my stomach lining like mud wasps digging into my flesh. It couldn’t be what I thought it was. There was no way.

But it would explain… Well, a lot of stuff, honestly.

I took off my work gloves and heaved a sigh. “So…”

“So?”

“So.”

“Yeah,” Faith said.

“Yeah what?”

“I…”

I closed my eyes. “Faith. We have the fight of our lives coming up on Friday, and we need to be a functional team when that happens. If you’re just stressed about that, then that’s fine, I’ll accept it. But I need you to talk to me.”

“I… Can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Both?”

“Faith.” There was no other explanation. Nothing else made sense. But if she didn’t say it… It would keep eating away at her. But I still had no right to force her to say anything. “Maybe I should just go home, let you cool off.”

I started towards the exit, then felt a tug on the back of my shirt.

I turned my head, and saw her clinging to me, face scrunched up, tears falling out her eyes. “Wait.”

So I waited.

“I like you, Zeke,” Faith said, half a whisper and half a scream. “I like you a lot, and I have for a long time. Since… Before I was even living as the real me. You’ve always been there for me, propping me up when I just wanted to fall down, and… I can’t picture myself without you. I like you.”

My back went stiff, and I didn’t turn around. I… It just… Hearing that, from her, after all this time… It sent a hundred million different thoughts pinballing inside my brain simultaneously. The first one was an instinct, to turn around and kiss her, to sweep her off her feet and make violent love to her on the floor.

The next one, far louder, far angrier, was ‘I won’t be like Dad.’

“Why… Why did you wait so long?” I asked, still not facing her.

“I was scared,” she said, still not letting me go.

“Scared of what?”

“That you wouldn’t like me back. That I’d ruin things between us. That you’d reject me like Olivia did and then I’d… Then I’d be all alone.”

The words screamed inside my mind:I could never reject you. I could never let you be all alone.They were followed by the words,You only ruined things by waiting until now to tell me.

I gulped as I thought that, disgust coagulating inside my core.What is wrong with me- she’s pouring her heart out to me, and I need to say something. Anything.

“Do you hate me?” Faith asked.

“I could never hate you,” I said, and it was the truth. “You’re my best freaking friend.”

“And that’s all?” she asked.

“I… I don’t know what to say to that,” I said. “I’m with Kate- you know I’m-”

“I know. And she’s… She’s a gem. I was wrong about her. The fact that she’s okay with me having this conversation alone with her boyfriend is… It says a lot, I think. Especially about how trusting she is.”

“I agree. So you can see why it’s important that neither of us betray that trust,” I said evenly. Finally, slowly, I turned around.

I regretted it immediately upon seeing the tears flooding out of her. Faith said, “You’re right. And I don’t wanna hurt her like…”

I knitted my eyebrows together. “Like?”

“Like Olivia did with me. I don’t… I don’t wanna hurt either of you, and I feel like the longer I stay here, the longer I do this, the more likely it will become that I do.”

I reached for her shoulders. “That’s not gonna happen.”

She pulled away, stepped out of my reach, and said, with the guiltiest voice I’d ever heard, “It already has. You don’t even know that you’re crying too, do you?”

“W-what?” I reached for my eyes and found the water leaking out.

“This was a mistake,” she said, taking a few more steps back. “I’m a damn coward and this was all a mistake. I- I’m sorry, Zeke. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you all this, and I’m sorry for putting you in this position. I know how much you don’t… Don’t wanna be like your dad. This isn’t fair to you. Or her. Or anyone.”

She started for the back exit, and I started after her. I reached for her.

She pivoted and swatted my hand away. “Don’t follow me. Please just… I need to be alone right now. Go to Kate, Zeke. Go be with your girlfriend. You deserve someone like her.”

She ran out, and left me there, too stunned to say anything or move. By the time I regained my senses and chased her out into the parking lot, she’d already gotten in our car and started driving away.

“Um… What just happened?” Kate said.

I jumped, turned around, and saw her walking up behind me with a can of soda in one hand and a plastic convenience store bag in t’other one.

She hugged me without asking- she didn’t need to anymore. And right then… I needed it. I just needed it. “I messed up.”

She held me close and tight, and we stood there a while under the harsh light of day.

Chapter 18

Chapter Text

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***

Faith

Six Months Ago

“What do you think of this one?” I asked Zeke, stepping out of the changing room in the store on the Santa Monica Promenade. I wore a blue sequin dress that offered a small peak at my budding cleavage and stopped just above the knees, alongside navy platform heels and opal earrings with a matching necklace.

Zeke blinked, looking up from his JSA trade paperback as he sat in a stark metal chair in the white-painted section of changing rooms cut off from the rest of the store. An old show tune I didn’t recognize played on the overhead speaker. He looked at me carefully, as if considering his words.

“Well?” I said, waiting for his opinion, disappointed he wasn’t checking out my legs or my boobs. Dammit, weren’t guys supposed to be unsubtle? No fair.

“How in the hell do you intend to walk in those stilts?” he finally said.

“Really? That’s all you’ve got to say?” I said.

“You look gorgeous,” Zeke said.

I stammered.

“But seriously- how can you walk in those?”

I co*cked (heh) a co*cky (heheheheh) grin and put a hand on my hip and said, “Oh I’m gonna do more than walk in these things.” I swayed my hips as I sauntered over to him and offered him a hand up with a hammy flourish. “I’m gonna DANCE!”

“You cannot be serious,” he said, in monotone.

“I’m as serious as a delinquent student loan payment, Underhill,” I said. “Now dance with me, boy.”

“I have no idea how to dance, Faithy,” he laughed awkwardly.

“Then I’ll show you how,” I said. “C’mon. It’ll be good for our gimmick.”

He sighed, then took my hand and stood up.

“Now put your hands on my hips,” I said.

“W-what?”

“Just do it, you baby,” I said.

Then, as if on cue, the song on the overhead speaker changed to ‘La Vie En Rose.’ Couldn’t have asked for a better bit of serendipity.

With that, I walked him through the steps of the Waltz- nothing too complicated, but still- his hands on my body, the two of us moving as one while I hummed a tune. I felt more connected to him than I had before, like our hearts were beating in sync, like together we were finally keeping rhythm with the turn of the world. And he had that goofy grin on his face the whole time, which as far as I was concerned made him the most handsome man in the world.

***

Present Day

I drove, and I drove, and I drove, until I found myself in Gardena. The sun was still high in the sky, but the heat was beginning to dissipate for the day as I parked in front of Olivia’s two-story building. I locked the Star-Rocket Racer and stomped up to Olivia’s apartment, hoping to God she was home.

I knocked, and the subsequent thirty seconds I spent waiting were some of the longest and most painful of my entire life. My heart was racing, my hands shaking, my whole world feeling like it was slipping away.

I can’t believe I told him.

I can’t believe I’d expected the conversation to go any other way than how it did.

And the hell was Kate thinking?!

Finally, the door opened, and my ex-girlfriend stood on the other side. “Hey? What’s up?”

“I need to talk to you,” I said.

She beckoned me inside without hesitation and sat me on the couch and brought me a glass of water. “Drink,” she commanded.

I downed it all in one go, then looked around. Olivia’s place was nice- clean red couches atop a carpeted floor, Japanese landscape paintings hanging from the walls, a mahogany coffee table and a maplewood dinner table. Everything was clean and polished, just like she was. Just like she’d always been. I admired it about her- it was honestly a big part of why I’d chosen the gimmick that I had.

“What’s going on?” she asked, sitting on a plush chair next to the couch.

I told her. Everything.

“Oh, wow,” was her response.

“Yeah,” I said, wincing as my voice dropped into a low growl.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why?’ You know perfectly well why!”

“No, I really don’t. It sounds like he took it relatively well.”

“Yeah, but now things are super awkward, like you said they’d be,” I pointed out.

“You don’t actually know that, though,” Olivia said. “You walked away from him.”

“I’m pretty sure-”

“You can’t make assumptions about things like this,” Olivia said. “Take it from me. I assumed that you would never wanna speak to me again after… I did what I did. But we’re talking right now. I could have made that happen any time in the last year. But I was too stubborn and too proud and too scared to face you and apologize.”

I buried my face in my hands. “sh*t.”

“I gotta admit though,” Olivia said, running her fingers over her glass of water, “I’m pissed at Calloway for putting you in that position.”

“I mean… I kinda put myself in that position.”

“Okay, but like… Calloway goaded you,” she said, clenching and unclenching her fists. “Like she always does. She’s unbelievable, the way she makes people do crazy sh*t is so freaking annoying.”

“That’s not what happened- did you even listen to what I said?” I asked.

“Of course I listened- and I heard that she forced your hand.”

“I don’t really think that that’s fair to her,” I said.

“Why are you so concerned with what’s fair to her? She stole your man and now she’s ruining your relationship with your best friend.”

“He’s not actually my man, though, and he never has been,” I said. “And I ruined it myself through my own cowardice- Kate doesn’t really have that much to do with it.”

“I just… Don’t believe that,” Olivia shook her head.

The water of my sorrow froze into a solid glacier of anger. She was making this about… But why was she…

No, I know why. It’s simple: petulance. You’ve always had a problem with that, Olivia.

“Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” I said, letting the glacier gather more mass.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Did you take that picture of Kate two weeks back?”

Olivia balked, then looked away from me, then back to me. She sat on her hands and furrowed her brow and said,“I don’t see how that’s relevant to the current conversation.”

The glacier devoured more and more of the water, expanding in size each second. “Answer the question.”

“You seriously think I would do that?”

“I think you really, really hate Kate because she wounded your pride,” I said. “And I get that, I used to be the same way-”

“So what changed?”

“Kate did,” I said. “A lot.”

“Uh-huh. She’s changed so much that she’s put you in this state.”

“You still haven’t answered my question, Olivia,” I said.

“No!” she shouted suddenly. “I didn’t take the picture. Eileen Portman did- I tried to convince her to delete it, to not post it, because quite honestly Calloway is the center of attention too much already, but she wanted to do it for the sake of psychological warfare. She’s ahuge bitch. I haven’t even spoken to her since that happened because frankly I’m disgusted with her. I’m disgusted with a lot of people right now.”

I breathed in and out. The glacier slowly began to melt. “Okay. Okay. I’ll accept that. Thank you.”

“I… You’re welcome,” she said. “Look, I’m sorry for fixating on Calloway- I know I need to stop doing that, she just gets under my skin.”

“You might actually like her if you got to know her,” I said.

“I don’t particularly WANT to get to know her,” Olivia said.

The glacier expanded once more. What was it about that, about what she was saying, that was pissing me off so much? It didn’t make sense- I should be depressed, angst-ridden, ready to humiliate myself and beg Olivia to let me rebound with her for an evening of pity-sex. But every second I was here, I was getting more and more FURIOUS about how she refused to think about anything other than her rivalry with Kate. And yeah, Kate had definitely poured gasoline on that fire, but it seemed like every time I talked to Olivia, or heard about Olivia, she was bitching about Kate, but Kate didn’t talk about Oliviaat all. She barely spared a thought for her in any capacity after the call-out she’d pulled a few weeks back. The call-out that had given her a panic attack and the final push she’d needed to escape from her eggshell.

I couldn’t help but think it was revealing on both their parts.

“I should go,” I said after a moment’s silence. “I need to hash things out with Zeke- we both need to get our heads back in the game, if nothing else.”

“A-are you sure?” Olivia said, sounding genuinely surprised.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m sure. Have a nice night, Liv. I’ll see you at work on Friday.”

Nothing made sense. I’d come here hoping for something resembling clarity and only left vastly more confused than when I’d started. I climbed into the Star-Rocket Racer and checked my phone before turning the car on.

One new message from Kate.

‘Can you come over to my place?’

I stared at it for five minutes, the ice in my chest melting and dissolving back into my blood, before I finally responded with a simple ‘k.’

The drive over was a long, slow, silent march through rush hour traffic, but as the sun began to set I finally parked in the lot behind Surf Turf Apparel. I knocked, and Mrs. Calloway answered. “They’re upstairs, waiting for you,” she said, beckoning me inside.

Oh God, both of them?! Okay, deep breaths, Faith. Time to stop running, time to stop being a damn coward, and face the music.

As I ascended the stairs, I heard music: ‘La Vie En Rose’ by Edith Pilaf. I entered the living room and saw Zeke and Kate waltzing… BADLY. Kate kept stepping on Zeke’s feet, and Zeke seemed to have no idea where to put his hands on someone who was much taller than I was. They both looked like they were in constant danger of falling over onto the floor.

“You’re here!” Kate said, breaking away from Zeke and wrapping her arms around me.

I didn’t question it, or hesitate, I just accepted it and hugged back. “Yeah. What’s, uh, what’s going on here?”

“My dancing lesson!” Kate beamed, pumping up and down on the balls of her feet. “Will you teach me? Zeke’s not the best instructor.”

“Understatement,” he laughed, taking a seat on the couch. “Please help this poor young woman- this is one of those situations where I can’t give her what she needs, beyond moral support.”

I choked back tears. “Okay. But you owe me a dance for this, Underhill.”

“I’ll always be ready to dance with you, Faithy,” he said. He winced. “Sorry, I meant Faith-”

“No, it’s fine,” I said, cracking a smile. “You can still call me that. I like it.”

“Okay,” he said, that goofy grin that made me fall for him sprouting on his face.

I turned to Kate and offered her my hand, “Will you take this waltz with me, mademoiselle?”

“Oui, d’accord!” Kate said, wiggling with joy.

I tilted my head at her.

“What?” she said. “I took French in high school.”

“Fair enough,” I chuckled.

I put my hands on her hips and she put hers around my neck, and I walked her through the steps of the dance. The song changed, yet it remained the same, switching to an English cover I’d heard before:

“Hold me close and hold me fast

This magic spell you cast

This is La Vie En Rose

When you kiss me Heaven sighs

And though I close my eyes

I see La Vie En Rose.”

“Did he put you up to this?” I said to her, struggling to break eye contact with those big baby blues.

“Nope,” she said, shaking her head playfully. “All me. Except the song. That was his doing.”

“I figured as much,” I said, before looking over to him sitting on the couch with naked affection emanating from his face and posture. “I’m amazed you remembered that detail, with the song and everything.”

“How could I forget our first dance?” he said.

It was all he needed to say, and it made my heart sing and my soul shine.

And at the same time, as I turned my gaze back to my current dance partner, something… Stirred within me. Something long neglected. Kate had done all this for me. In her own home, no less. After already going out of her way to help me prepare for my next fight, after putting up with my crap all day, after letting me confess my feelings to her boyfriend, all she could think about was… Was helping me. I used to look down on her, condescendingly think that of course I was a better person than her, but… Honestly, I wished I was anywhere near as good as she was.

Except for dancing. I was definitely better at dancing than she was. She kept stepping on my feet and nearly falling over for two songs in a row, but by the third, by the time ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ started playing, she began to fall into the rhythm, her body moving in time with mine, flowing together like two tributaries joining into a single river. And as we got closer and closer, there was a moment where something flipped on for me like a light switch and I…

… And my gaze drifted from her eyes to her lips, and all I could think about was how much I wanted to kiss her.

For good or for ill, that was when Zeke stood up and said, “Mind if I cut in? I have an apology to deliver.”

“Not one bit,” Kate said, pulling away. She was lying, though. I could see it in her downcast expression and slumped shoulders- she was hurting herself, trying to fix things between Zeke and I while not paying any heed to what it might do to her relationship.

Because she… Because she sincerely thought it was the right thing to do, because she thought I had a better claim on Zeke than she did.

I grabbed her by the back of her top and said, “Wait.”

Zeke looked back and forth between the two of us, the proverbial deer in headlights torn between fight, flight, and freeze. I drew a deep breath. It was time to stop being a damn coward. “Why don’t the three of us… All dance together?”

Zeke blinked rapidly.

Kate, however… Well, she’d never been one to hesitate. “I’d love that!”

“Y-you would?” Zeke stammered.

“I like dancing with you,” she said to him, taking him by the wrist in one hand. Then she turned to me and grabbed my wrist in her other hand and said, “And with you as well.”

I could have cried. I could have sang. But all I wanted to do was dance. And I knew I wanted to dance with both of them, preferably at the same time. Even if you’d put a gun to my head and forced me to pick one, at that point, on that night, in that room, I honestly don’t think I would have been able to.

“It’s… It’s a little unorthodox. What you’re suggesting,” Zeke said.

“It doesn’t have to… Mean anything, outside this room, or after tonight, if that’s not what you two want,” Faith said. “It can just be… A dance. We can just see how it goes. I-i-f you’re both feeling up to it.”

Zeke’s mouth couldn’t seem to close all the way, and his eyes were unwilling to blink. His adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he gulped, and I felt the slight tremble in his hands. He felt guilty, I could sense it. Like he was in an impossible position, like if he waded out any further into this water he’d wind up losing himself and turning into his father. But I didn’t believe that. He was a better man than the one who’d raised him, and he wanted to do right by the women in his life. “Okay,” he whispered.

“Okay?” I said, trying to keep my voice steady and even.

“OKAY!” Kate squealed. God, she was adorable.

Fly Me to the Moonshifted into a cover song version, the lyrics starting over and the melody changing to a simple acoustic guitar rendition. The three of us stumbled around on the living room floor together as we tried to figure out how this would work, the three of us all at once, keeping time and trying to stop our limbs from knotting together like a pretzel. So we didn’t put too much pressure on it- we simply kept track of our own movements, and kept our eyes on each other. Three tributaries flowing into one river, joining in a single flow towards a single point.

“Fill my heart with song and let me sing forevermore

You are all I long for

All I worship and adore

In other words, please be true

In other words, I love you.”

Chapter 19

Chapter Text

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'allare doing well :)

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And now, back to our regularly scheduled nerdy romcom shenanigans!

***

Kate

“You ready for this?” I asked Faith.

“As I’ll ever be,” Faith replied.

“My makeup looks okay?”

“I did it myself, didn’t I?” she said.

“Good point. Of course it’s perfect,” I said.

“Heh. Flatterer.”

“Never been called that before,” I said, raking a hand through my hair, noticing some split ends. I should get it cut soon… Or get it done soon, I suppose. I guess it was time for me to figure out the difference. I’d been going to barbers once a year all my life and asking for the bare minimum to be trimmed and promptly didn’t think about my hair after that. Now… Now that seemed like a terrible idea, and one I couldn’t believe I’d been indulging for as long as I had. I should try something new with it- Mom had mentioned her stylist was a miracle worker with something called ‘layering.’ I’d have to look up what that actually meant, but if it could make me look girlier it must’ve been a good thing. And maybe a new color, too; the platinum blonde looked great on Mom, and everyone had always told me I’d taken after her in the looks department, so maybe it’d look good on me too.

“I’ll admit, that’s not terribly surprising,” Faith said, unbuckling her seatbelt in the shotgun of my truck, checking her own hair for split ends. Lucky girl had perfect hair- it was so unfair, she probably woke up with it looking that good.

“Hey now,” I said, poking her cheek.

She playfully swatted my finger away and raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, fair enough, I walked into that one,” I said. “Also, it’s pretty accurate.”

“Yes,” she said. “Just like ‘flatterer’ is accurate for who you are now.”

“And like how ‘gorgeous supermodel’ is accurate for who you are now?” I said.

Her jaw dropped, and I couldn’t help but picture her thought process as being a hamster running on its wheel. She broke off eye contact, and I started giggling. “That’s so not fair!” she said, finally giggling back.

“It’s the truth, is what it is!” I said, poking her in the cheek again.

“How dare you,” she said.

“How indeed,” I said, winking at her. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” she said, opening the passenger side door.

We both walked into Gaines’ Auto Body and Bodybuilding kitted out in our respective favorite sundresses: mine was pink with shirt-sleeves and white polka dots, hers was a sleeveless black number with gold stripes. I grabbed her arm and held her tight as we walked through the gym towards the back office, and whispered, “Just ignore them,” when I saw her eyes go wide with fear at all the huge dudes staring at her for various reasons.

Nadine was waiting for us inside her office when we got there. “Hey, girl! And other girl! You must be Faith Watanabe!”

“I am she,” Faith nodded.

“Kate’s told me all about you.”

“Oh?” Faith said, looking at the floor.

“Good stuff, I promise,” I said, patting her on the back.

“I just wanna start by saying you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Nadine said.

“I want to,” Faith said. “I think Kate’s idea is good. And if Gaines is as much of a tool as you make him sound like-”

“He is,” Kate said.

“He VERY MUCH is,” Nadine nodded.

“Then forcing his hand doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world,” Faith said.

“I couldn’t agree more,” I said.

Nadine spent a few minutes adjusting the lighting in her office, then set us up for our photoshoot. It took about an hour, but when it was over, we had a full roll of pictures ready for social media to announce both my own friendship with my former arch-rival and Gaines’ public support of the trans community. Eric Gaines’ may have been a cynical asshole, but if I could use the implements at my disposal to push him into being more publicly trans-friendly, then I’d be doing myself (and probably other people as well) a favor. Nadine also had a whole ‘women in STEM’ angle she wanted to try pushing, but she mentioned that it would be better to wait until the finals tournament started to go for that.

Of course, any of this working out long-term was contingent on me continuing to win.

No pressure or anything.

The shoot went by relatively quickly, and after that Faith and I decided to get a late lunch. She guided us to a ramen shop on Sawtelle Boulevard in Culver City, and after about forty minutes of waiting and parsing through anime merch shops, we were seated at a long bar table around the kitchen watching our soup and noodles prepared for it. Salt and pork and chicken and spice and seaweed scents all mixed together into a tantalizing symphony of aromas.

My pork miso ramen and Faith’s chicken shoyu were placed in bowls in front of us, and Faith pressed cloves of garlic into both our bowls. I dug in with my chopsticks and took in a mouthful of spicy ground pork and red broth. “Mmmmm,” I groaned.

“Good stuff, right?” Faith said, swallowing her own food.

“Soooo good! How did you find this place?”

“Olivia took me here on our first date,” Faith said, smiling wistfully while looking at nothing in particular.

… Until a moment passed, and suddenly she was smiling wistfully while looking very clearly at me.

I shifted in my seat and broke off eye contact as Faith sipped from her glass of water, leaving a red lipstick stain on the rim as she stared longingly into my eyes. A hundred million thoughts all went through my mind at different speeds and in opposite directions, but chief among them was ‘you have a boyfriend, you have a boyfriend, you have an incredibly handsome and charming and supportive boyfriend.’

Did I miss something? When did this happen?! This made no damn sense- everything about Faith Watanabe had always been confusing, and now that was even more true than ever!

Okay, let’s think about this- Zeke hadn’t said anything about this, and he told me everything so I didn’t think he was holding out on me. I was… Resigned to the idea that he might want to leave me for Faith, even if it would feel like my heart getting surgically removed without anesthesia. Faith was here first, had liked him longer, knew him better, could probably make him happier, and was way, way, WAY hotter than me. Dancing with her the other night had been fun, and dancing with her and Zeke had been REALLY fun, and I really liked spending time with her, and I really REALLY liked spending time with both of them… But I didn’t want to make Faith into a third wheel, and I was aware that I might wind up being the third wheel if he dumped me for her…

UGH! This was so confusing! Why did nothing make sense!? Why did I have to be so freaking stupid?!

That was when I noticed Faith waving her hand in front of my face.

“Gah!” I said, my slumped posture suddenly straightening.

“You okay?” she asked. “You kinda… Went away for a minute there.”

“I, uh, well, you see,” I stammered, struggling to make eye contact. “You… I… How are things with you and Zeke?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” she smirked.

“I mean, it’s a relevant question for both of us,” I said.

“That’s true,” she said.

“After the other night, after we all danced together,” I said, “Did things go back to normal between you two? Did you talk at all about what happened? Are you guys okay?”

“To answer your questions in reverse order,” Faith said, “We’re okay. We haven’t talked about what happened. And I don’t know that things will ever really go back to normal per se, now that the cat’s out of the bag.”

“That… That makes sense,” I said, gulping down a mouthful of noodles and meat. “I just mean… What do you think is gonna happen between you guys?”

“I don’t really think that’s up to me,” Faith said, stirring her soup with her chopsticks. “It’s up to him. And you.”

“What… What do you mean by that?”

“I mean…,” she started, “I mean that I know what you were thinking, when you got me to confess to him. You thought he would leave you for me. Because you think you still aren’t done apologizing for being a jerk to me. But the reality, my dear Katie-”

I blinked with the rapidity of a machine gun open-firing. “‘My dear?’”

“- is that I was just as much of a jerk to you, and I don’t think I’m done apologizing yet. You, however, have more than made up for everything. I really like the person you’ve become. Or maybe it’s just the person you’ve always been, whom I was just too dumb to see,” Faith said. She reached across the table and put her hand over mine.

My brain was short-circuiting, and I dared not open my mouth for fear of stuttering at a million miles per hour. This wasn’t happening, there was literally no way this was happening-

“I like you,” Faith said. “And I like Zeke. I like you both the same way, even if it feels different with each of you. And I know you and Zeke have a good thing going, and I don’t wanna get in the way of it. I want you both to be happy. But you… You taught me to be brave, Katie Calloway. I mean that- you’re the bravest person I know. You see something you want and you go right for it. I want to be more like that, more like you in that way. And I gotta start somewhere. So I’m starting here and now, with you. Not leaving anything unsaid.”

A feeling surged through me, like I was being lowered into a hot spring after running a marathon, my aching limbs and throbbing heart finding relief and bliss and comfort. My mouth opened and closed, and Faith put a single finger over my lips. “You don’t have to respond right now. You can think about it, about how you feel about me, about what you want to do with this. I’m throwing a lot at you, I know.”

“D-does Zeke know you like me too?” I said, trying to focus on anything other than the finger hovering on the borders of my mouth.

“No,” Faith said, taking her slim, delicate digit off of my lips, to my relief and my chagrin. “I was gonna talk to him about it after the Gregson fight. He doesn’t need the distraction right now.”

“That’s fair,” I said, trying to keep my brain from melting out my ears. “Do you want me not to say anything?”

“I don’t think that’s up to me,” Faith said with a nonchalant shrug. “He’s your boyfriend, it’s your call whether or not you tell him about this conversation.”

“But what do you want me to say?” I said, staring into my bowl of food. “W-what do you want out of this? What’s your ideal outcome?”

She bit her lower lip a moment, then said, “I had a lot of fun dancing with the both of you the other night. If we could all keep doing that together, I think… I think that would make me really happy. But if that’s not what you want, or not what he wants, I’ll back off. Mostly… I just want you both to be happy.”

I gulped. “O-okay. I need to… I’ll take you up on your offer to let this marinate for a few days, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” she said, cupping my cheek and brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. I struggled not to release a sapphic moan there and then. “Food is on me today, yeah?”

I nodded.

This was… This was a lot to take in. I couldn’t even believe it was happening, and yet…

And yet here I was. So very blessed.

Chapter 20

Chapter Text

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read three chapters ahead on this story, two chapters ahead on "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", and the entirety of "A Dream of Summer Rain," by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

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And now, back to our regularly scheduled nerdy romcom shenanigans!

***

Zeke

The morning of our fight with Gregson, I woke up to find Faith making pancakes, singing along to a Brandi Carlisle song as she flipped a flapjack over, swaying her hips back and forth in a way I found difficult to describe with a word other than ‘tantalizing.’

I nearly slapped myself on the spot. I resisted the urge, both urges, and simply said, “Hey. You’re in a good mood.”

“Yes indeedy,” Faith said, shining that bright smile of hers. She wore nothing but a miniskirt and a tank top, her hair up in a messy bun, no makeup, no jewelry, utterly freaking beautiful as the morning light shined on her and refracted off her big brown eyes.

“Photoshoot yesterday go well?” I asked.

“Oh yes, very much so,” she said. Practically sang.

The microwave dinged, and she chirped as she opened it and retrieved a glass measuring cup filled with real maple syrup, the pure stuff from Maine, and poured it over a plate adorned with three pancakes all topped with pallets of butter.

She carried the plate over to me and put it in my hands, then tousled my hair and spun back around on her heel and went back to the stove. I cringed when I realized I was staring at her butt as she went back to work cooking.

“Thanks,” I managed to choke out as I sat down. A glass of orange juice and an equally tall glass of cold brew coffee awaited me at the table. “You didn’t have to do all this, though.”

“I wanted to,” she said. “How did your date with Katie go last night?”

“Good,” I said, holding the image of her cuddled up to me in the darkened movie theater in my mind, trying not to think sinful thoughts about anyone besides the girl I was currently dating.I won’t be like Dad, I won’t be like Dad, I won’t be like Dad.

“Good,” she said, soon coming over with her own plate of pancakes. She stared at me, smiling a crooked smile and tilting her head to the side. “She say anything to you?”

“Uh… About what?”

“Oh, you know, stuff.”

“Y… Yes, Faith, she did in fact say things to me about stuff at various points, though not so much when the film was playing,” I deadpanned. “Did something happen with you two yesterday?”

She shrugged.

OH COME ON!

“Sh-should I be concerned?” I asked.

“Not at all, big guy, not at all,” Faith said. She dug into her pancakes and devoured them, and I decided the best thing to do was let this one be for the time being.

***

“You guys ready for this?” Kate asked, sitting in the back seat of the Star-Rocket Racer. She’d gotten herself dressed up in a pink floral blouse with ruffled sleeves and a light blue skirt, done her makeup and hair. Faith and I, meanwhile, were going for a look Faith described as ‘a night at the opera’- she was even wearing long white gloves to go with her stark black gown. I, in contribution, had agreed to don a monocle to accompany my tuxedo.

Mrs. Calloway- Miranda, as she kept insisting I call her- had even done a bit of tailoring on my tux to make it fit better. Honestly, she was a miracle worker- suddenly the thing was a perfect match for my giant body, not pinching at the crotch or hanging too loose around the ankles like it had before.

“Not remotely,” I laughed.

“Oh c’mon, don’t be like that,” Faith said as she unbuckled herself and opened the car door.

I followed suit. “You know I love the confidence, but I’m trying to keep my expectations in check.”

“I just don’t think that’s productive,” she said, cracking her knuckles as she opened the trunk of the car while Kate helped me lower DG out onto the sledge. “We have to believe that we can do this, otherwise, we’ve no chance.”

“She raises a good point,” Kate said. Then she grabbed a fistful of my lapel and pulled me in for a kiss, white hot lust sparking inside my chest and nether-regions at the contact and… Brazenness. “Stud,” she whispered, blatant desire shooting out her eyes and going deep into my soul.

I chuckled, “Let’s not get carried away, babe.”

“No, please do, I encourage it,” Faith said with a wink, putting her arm around Kate and nuzzling her neck, damn near purring with affection.

I struggled not to picture certain… Bedroom activities the two girls I cared most about in this world might do together. It was a losing battle, and all I could do was pray I wouldn’t display any… Physical evidence of this.

Kate stroking Faith’s hair certainly didn’t help.

Seriously, what had gotten into these two lately? I knew they were friends now but it constantly looked like they were undressing each other with their eyes and giggling at their mutual proximity to both each other and to me.

It had to be my imagination. Had to be.

Just my overactive imagination, trying to make me be like Dad. But I won’t be like Dad. I can’t be like Dad. I won’t be like Dad.

We entered the Pits and got ourselves situated, only for the competition to come up to greet us amidst the roar of engines and saws and blowtorches.

George Gregson was, in a word, unassuming. Middle-aged, gray-haired, barrel-chested, average height, clean shaven, whiter than printer paper, bespectacled, clad in a black and silver Johnny Cash t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans and workman’s boots, he was not, at first glance, in any way intimidating. And yet, as he walked towards us, everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up. And looked at him. Some, like TeamForest Fire,were in awe; others, like TeamFlipper,were terrified; others, likeJolly Roger’s crew, just looked furious. And plenty of others,Ultimate FrisbeeandAx-GrinderandDamage ControlandRotator CuffandPower Play,were just embarrassed, probably because Gregson had kicked their asses at various points over the years.Ax-Grinderin particular had gotten systematically dismantled by Gregson within forty-five seconds not two weeks erstwhile; the odds of them having a functional bot again by the time of their next match hovering the hazy line between slim and none.

He ignored every single one of them, and simply walked forward in the deafening silence. He stopped in front of the three of us and looked Faith square in the eyes. For her part, Faith planted her feet and didn’t flinch.

“Good luck tonight,” Gregson said, extending a hand towards Faith.

Faith exhaled softly, and returned the handshake. “Same to you, sir.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Please, just call me George, I’m begging you. Feel old enough as is.” Then he offered me the same handshake, and I returned it as well. Holy sh*t, that was a tight grip! “Good luck tonight, young man.”

“Thank you, s… George.”

Finally, he turned to Katie, who I then realized was one step short of quivering. “As for you, young lady. I’m looking forward to our rematch. And I like your new look. Suits you better than the old one.”

Kate gulped, and finally shook his hand as well.

“See you kids in the ring!” he said jovially as he walked off, literally everyone in the room still staring at him as he waved good-bye to us. “And remember- it isn’t personal, when I wreck your sh*t! It’s just business!”

A few moments passed, and auditory stimulus slowly but surely began to permeate the pits once more as everyone finished drinking in the presence of a living legend/creature of pure nightmare.

“You okay, Kate?” I asked.

“I just… I used to want to be him, you know?” she said, turning around and putting her arms around both of us. “I think based a lot of who I used to be on who I thought he was. But I didn’t even know him, so it… It wasn’t really him, and it wasn’t really me either. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does,” Faith said, still smiling at her, then smiling at me as well.

I returned their shared looks of affection. At the end of the day, Gregson was just a guy. And he had a reputation to protect, so he sure as hell wasn’t gonna go easy on us because we were the young bucks trying to prove something.

But Faith and I had a reputation to protect as well. We were the defending champions, Goddammit, and we needed this win to have a shot at making a repeat title run.

And I had something else to defend as well. I didn’t want to see Faith cry again, not after the fight with Olivia, and not after everything that had happened. Regardless of how I felt about her, and about myself, on my honor as a man, I wouldn’t let that happen. And as for Kate… That look she’d given me before, the one that told me how much she was proud of me, how much she admired me, how happy she was to be mine… I’d defend that with all I had.

She’d used to want to be Gregson, because she wanted to be nothing less than the best there ever was. So the nicest thing I could do for her was show her that Gregson wasn’t the best.

Faith and I were the best.

Time to f*cking prove it.

***

“AND IN THE RED SQUARE: THIS BOT WILL BRING YOU TO THE BOTTOM OF THE PIT! IT’LL SWING YOU BACK AND FORTH ALL OVER THE BOX! IT’LL TAKE YOU THERE AND BACK AGAIN! IT’S…PENDULUM!!!!” bellowed our glorious hype man while the cameras focused on Gregson and his companions, Ben Yancy and Marjorie Hennessy.

Gregson just roared with malice and delight, his mannerisms shifting to a cackling supervillain working the crowd before he did something very messed up but very, very cool. I think I understood what Kate meant now- she’d practically been emulating this guy from the moment she’d walked on stage last season.

“Gregson is a long-standing presence in this league, Marty- do you think he’s got anything to worry about in fighting the defending champions?” Derek Benes said.

“Well, I asked him about it earlier,” Marty said, “All George Gregson had to say was ‘not a chance. My victory is assured like always.’”

“Hard to argue with logic like that,” Derek responded.

And then it was our turn.

“AND IN THE BLUE SQUARE: HOPE YOU’RE READY TO RUN SOME DRILLS! BECAUSE THIS BOT ALWAYS GETS RIGHT TO THE POINT! IT’LL MAKE YOU DO A MULTI-PRONGED ASSAULT! IT’S…DAI GURREN!!!!”

The crowd cheered, and the cameras turned towards us, and through all the noise, I heard Kate and her parents screaming louder than anybody. I noticed Faith’s hands shaking just a little bit- that confidence was evidently something she’d been practicing for all of our benefits- and I put a hand on her shoulder while my free hand punched the sky and cheered.

After a second’s hesitation, Faith did the same.

“Faith Watanabe and Zeke Underhill have… Not been having the best season so far, all things considered,” Marty said. “With a tied record halfway into the regular season, and one of those matches frequently being called a ‘fluke-’”

“Say what now?” Faith growled under her breath.

“Many are wondering ifDai Gurrenis just a flash in the pan,” Weston continued.

“Well, I think that’s a little unfair to Watanabe and Underhill- as a former heavyweight champion of the world, I can tell you first hand that defending a title is a massive amount of pressure for anyone, let alone two young people barely a year out of college.”

“Well, then only time will tell,” Marty said. “Let’s get ready to fight.”

My heartbeat soared, and I concentrated on breathing, in and out, in and out, in and out, as we led our bot into the battle box.Dai GurrenandGurrenwere situated in our square while we climbed into our control zone.

“ROBOTS! ACTIVATE!” intoned the mechanical overhead voice.

Just like we practiced, Faith and I had DG and G scramble, DG bearing left and G to the right.Pendulumwent directly after DG, and Faith twisted DG out of the way of the first swing of the upper-cut hammer.

She delivered the first blow, puncturingPendulum’sarmor on its left hand side and pushing against it. Unfortunately, the damn thing was just plain heavier than DG and would not budge. Gregson laughed raucously as his bot pivoted at a sharp angle and broke free of DG and launched its uppercut again. DG barely made it out of the way while I had G takePendulumfrom behind and leave an incision in the back of it.

Gregson proceeded to completely ignore me, and continued chasing after DG. Slow and steady, he chased after DG as Faith slowly led him toward the rotating screws. She had DG sit stationary in front of the screws, waiting, waiting, waiting ‘tillPendulumwas right in front of her and launching its uppercut.

DG drove out of the way at the last possible second, sustaining a slight clip on its side that made one of the wheels wobble. The uppercut collided with the screws and stopped them entirely as the rotators were torn loose and a giant cylinder of serrated metal fell onto the arena floor.

“WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT! WHAT A DISPLAY OFPENDULUM’SRAW POWER! UNBELIEVABLE!” Marty screamed. Seriously, how much cocaine was that man on?

I drove G intoPendulum’stract again, chipping away at it as he drove away from me yet again. “Don’t you freaking ignore me!” I grunted.

“Hm? What was that?” Gregson said, an evil chuckle lacing his words.

“Son of a-”

“Stay calm, Zeke,” Faith said evenly. “Just do it like we practiced. Like we planned for.”

I exhaled. “Right.”

I flanked across the side of the box while Faith led Gregson towards the overhead hammer at the other end and tried the same trick as last time, dodging more successfully. The hope was that the impact of Gregson’s uppercut against the vertical hammer’s downward assault would disablePendulum’sprimary weapon, but unfortunately it had the opposite effect of tearing the overhead hammer off of its hinges and sending it flying into the glass surrounding the box. It landed in front of the announcers and buried itself in the shield, leaving both men screaming.

Faith turned and went atPendulum’sleft side again, perfectly matching the holes she’d already drilled, while I did some more damage to his left tread.

Pendulumrotated.

DG and G both rotated as well, trying to avoid the line of fire.

That was when DG’s wheel broke off.

“NO!” Faith screamed as DG stumbled onto its side.

“Oh HELL! LOOKS LIKE THAT WING-CLIP DID MORE DAMAGE THAN WE THOUGHT!” Derek screamed.

“MWAHAHAHAHAHA!” Gregson cackled. He wasted no time and aimed his weapon.

He fired.

DG took the hit directly to its face plate, and all of our drills shattered as its front was caved in and sent flying back. It went careening to the other end and impacted against the glass on the audience side of the box, falling in a crushed heap onto the rafters.

I wanted to scream, to lose it as well, but I had a job to do.

Faith looked ready to cry.

Me? I couldn’t take that lying down.

Pendulum’suppercut hadn’t returned to its station yet, so I droveGurrendirectly into the slot and plunged the titanium drill into the magnet propellant. I dove out as soon as I was in, finding, mercifully, that the uppercut wasn’t returning to its home. It couldn’t. The similarly-charged magnets on both ends wouldn’t let it get any closer than it already was, reducing it to a blunt instrument stuck at a forty-five degree angle.

“OH HELL NO! The mini-botGurrenhas disabledPendulum’sprimary weapon! Without that, it’s just a mighty glacier!”

I couldn’t stop there. I went back to the point onPendulum’stread I’d been working on plunged back in, my hands sweating as I held the button down on my control pad, ripping apart the opposing bot’s mobility.

It tried to move after me, but I went on the retreat. Gregson’s left tread was totally disabled, meaning it had to rely entirely on its right to haul its massive bulk. It tried to rotate to get a decent angle on me, and Gregson grunted as he poured all the power into the right tread…

… Only for the poor balance of the stuck weapon to work against it as it turned.

Pendulumfell onto its side, remaining stationary as it rested on its broken tread.

“HOLY f*ckING sh*t!” Marty screamed. I wonder if the live-bleepers got that one on time. “ARE YOU SEEING THIS, DEREK?!”

“OH I’M SEEING IT MARTY!” Derek screamed. “I’M JUST NOT SURE MY AGED EYES CAN BELIEVE IT!”

I could have cried. I could have laughed. But honestly… I was too stunned to do anything besides stand there with my jaw in pieces on the floor. I can’t believe that worked. I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT f*ckING WORKED! HOLY sh*t ON A DICK THAT ACTUALLY f*ckING WORKED!!

“Gonna need to see some movement,” the referee said to Gregson.

“Yeah, that’s a tall order right now,” Gregson said, laughing bitterly as he spun the right tread that hung above his broken bot.

“10! 9! 8!”

The countdown continued, and elation bubbled through me as I drove G around the box for a victory lap, still incapable of closing my mouth.

“1! That’s game!” the referee said. “TeamDai Gurrenwins!”

“LET’S HEAR IT FOR THE DEFENDING CHAMPIONS!” Marty roared.

The crowd went crazy, so loud I couldn’t make out Katie’s voice amidst all the disparate sounds. Next to me, Faith held her hands over her mouth, tears streaming out her eyes, too stunned to move. I’d sworn I wouldn’t let her cry again, and I suppose I’d failed at that particular endeavor, but… From where I was standing, those looked an awful lot like happy tears.

There was only one thing I could think to do.

I gave a bow and a flourish of my arm and said, “Fair lady. May I have this dance?”

She gulped, looking up at me like she was the happiest woman in the world. And I’d made that happen. I’d done that for her. The impossible. I’d killed a f*cking giant for her.

The post-fight interview was a blur, as was Gregson coming up and giving us both big old bear hugs, congratulating us on the win, saying we’d given him a helluva fight and that we were worthy opponents and he was looking forward to seeing us in the playoffs. Under the hammy exterior, he really was a good dude.

We brought the obliterated remains of DG back into the pits. I held G in my hands, stroking like a damn bunny. I knew it was an inanimate object- that both of them were- but at that moment it felt like as muchGurren’svictory as mine. The little guy had really come through for us. We had a lot of work to do on repairs, and we could have stayed for the rest of the matches, but without even having to say a word to each other, we knew we were done for the night. So we put our equipment on a sledge and hauled it out to the Star-Rocket Racer. Kate leaned against the car waiting for us, and she ran over and planted a kiss on my lips, long and passionate.

“I am so freaking proud of you,” Kate said to me, her arms around my neck, mine around her waist. She tilted her head and looked at Faith and said, “And you, too!”

Faith chuckled. “Does that mean I get a kiss as well?”

Kate gulped, and I expected her to laugh, but then she said, “Only if Zeke says it’s okay.”

I blanched. “Um… What?”

“Is it okay?

“W-what is happening right now?” I said, my head spinning, my heart racing, elicit images sparking in my mind, of the two of them, of all three of us.

Faith gave Kate a shallow nod and a thumbs’ up.

“I… Faith and I talked the other day,” Kate said, pulling herself off of me but not breaking off eye contact. “And she-”

“I like Kate,” Faith said. “And I like you, Zeke. I like you both. And I know that’s true for you as well.”

For a moment, I thought my heart would stop. I wouldn’t be like my dad, couldn’t be like him, shouldn’t be-

“If you’re not comfortable with it,” Kate said, “We can forget about all this.”

“I can’t be like him,” I said, barely more than a whisper.

“You won’t be,” Kate said, putting a reassuring arm on my shoulder. “Because… I like Faith, too.”

For once, I noticed myself crying. It wasn’t sad, though, and it wasn’t shameful, and it wasn’t envious. They were tears of relief. She… They both… They both liked me, and each other, and we all…

The possibility had never even occurred that they could feel the same way about each other as they did about me. I don’t know why, it made perfect sense; they were both amazing, beautiful, intelligent, and so damn sweet. I didn’t want to be like my dad, but I was pretty damn sure my dad had never even talked about the possibility of this with my mom. Not that she’d have ever agreed- she was old fashioned and close-minded. They both were.

And I didn’t want to be like either of them.

We all liked each other. And that was okay. More than okay, that was beautiful. And I wanted it. I wanted both of them, and I wanted them both to have each other as well as me. “Ladies first,” I said, gesturing to Faith.

Faith gasped, “You mean-”

She didn’t get to finish, because Kate was already locking lips with her within a second.

It was the most heartening sight I’d ever seen, the two girls I cared about more than anything else in the world sharing mutual affection for each other, and letting me have this moment with them. And when it was over, Kate pushed Faith, the nervous, shaking girl that I’d loved for so damn long, towards me.

“You know this is gonna be complicated, right?” I said. “Lotta work from all three of us to make something like this function.”

“I know,” Faith nodded bashfully, blushing bright red. “I’m up for it if you are, though. I’m not scared anymore.”

“You know what?” I said. “Neither am I.”

She stood on her tip-toes, and I leaned over, and our lips met. She was soft and sweet, her body pressing against mine, the curve of her hips glorious as my hands ran over them. Her lipstick was thicker and waxier than Kate’s… No, no that wasn’t right. Some of Kate’s had gotten onto Faith’s lips, leaving it thicker than when she’d started. An aftermath of her grace and affection, evidence of her having been there and an extra treat for me to taste and a reminder of the affection we both had for Faith.

That just made it better.

I picked Faith up into my arms and held her tight, slipping tongue into her mouth as she did the same with me. Kate hugged us both, taking turns kissing us on the cheeks, and then we broke off and started kissing her as well.

When that had run its course, we found ourselves dancing once again, all three of us together, keeping time and rhythm, delighting in each other’s company.

Tonight, I had slain a giant.

Tonight, I was with the two most beautiful women in the world, and they cared for each other just as much as they cared for me.

Tonight, I was the luckiest man in the world.

Chapter 21

Chapter Text

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***

Faith

“Okay, so, how is this gonna work?” Kate asked, swirling her straw inside her tall glass of skim milk.

The three of us sat in a booth inside a twenty-four hour diner in West Hollywood, atop brown leather seats jammed into the back corner of the main dining room. Overhead lights buzzed above us, casting their hot glow downwards on our intrepid trio. The blues stylings of Blind Blake hummed from the speaker, while the aromas of potatoes frying and meat grilling and pastries baking all filled the air. We all split a plate of onion rings while we waited for our entrees to arrive, taking turns dipping them in a small bowl of ketchup. I sipped my orange juice and Zeke skimmed his finger over the rim on his glass of sprite. “How do you mean?” I asked after swallowing a mouthful of OJ.

“I mean… Well, I guess I just mean I’ve never been in a real relationship before, let alone one where there’s three people total. Zeke and I have only been a couple for a short while so far and now we’re adding you and I guess I just don’t really know what all this entails.”

“She raises a good point,” Zeke said. He sat next to her while I faced the two of them, putting his arm around her. I tried to ignore the green sparks shooting through my chest, tried to make sure they didn’t ignite a verdant blaze of hideous jealousy. I had no reason to be jealous- I’d literally kissed both of them less than a half hour ago.

“Yeah, she does,” I said. “Still, does it have to be that different from how things are right now? Zeke, you and I have been best friends for a while anyway, and a couple is basically just a pair of best friends who have a romantic and/or sexual component to that dynamic.”

“That’s true,” Zeke said, idly scratching at the beard stubble sprouting on his chin.

“And she does have the most relationship experience between the three of us,” Kate said.

“That’s a scary prospect,” I said.

“That doesn’t fill us with confidence, babe,” Zeke said.

Babe.

He called me…

He called me babe.

HE CALLED ME BABE!!!!!!!

I squirmed in my seat, putting my hands under my chin as I wiggled back and forth and smiled. “Heeheehee,” I giggled.

“I think she likes that, babe,” Kate said.

“I’m inclined to agree, babe,” Zeke said.

“This is getting a little confusing though, babe,” Kate said, smirking. “It’s kinda what I’m talking about- if all three of us are occupying the same space and we’re all calling each other babe, which babe is the babe to whom we’re referring.”

“That could get a little confusing, yeah,” I said. Then I winked at her. “Babe.”

Those big blue doe eyes went wide as she blushed and smiled. “I mean… That certainly helps.”

Zeke snort-laughed. “Okay, back on topic: I can kinda see a broader issue happening here with one of us feeling like a third-wheel if two of us spend more time one-on-one then with all three of us. And since Faith and I live together, that feels like it will probably happen at some point.”

“The last thing I want is for Kate to feel neglected,” I said.

“I mean hey, that’s not something I want either,” Kate said wryly before chomping down on another onion ring.

The waiter, a short and stocky black man with braids tied back into a man-bun and a nametag that read ‘Jerome’, came over with our meals: a stack of banana chocolate chip pancakes with a side of ham and cooked golden apples for Kate, a pastrami reuben on rye with a side of potato salad for Zeke, and an avocado melt on whole wheat with a side of coleslaw for me. “Here y’all are. Anything else I can get for you?”

“We’re good for now, though we might want some milkshakes by the end of the night,” Zeke said.

“Or just one, with three straws,” Kate said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

I co*cked (heh) a smile. “I like the way you think, Katie.”

“Hmmm. I like it when you call me that,” she replied.

Jerome left us to our food, and we all got so busy chowing down we let the conversation go silent for a few minutes. After we’d sated our initial hunger and let ourselves slow down, however, I said what was really on my mind: “it does raise the question, though: we’re gonna have to find ways for all three of us to be together a lot if we want to avoid any of us feeling jealous or neglected. Like, I’m not gonna lie, I wish I was sitting on that side of the booth with one of you instead of being here on my own.”

“Then come over and sit with us,” Kate shrugged.

“Kate, she’s not gonna fit,” Zeke said.

“Exactly, and I’m worried about that becoming a metaphor for this throuple-”

“Oh God, that is what we are, aren’t we?” Kate said.

“I prefer ‘polycule’ personally,” Zeke said. “If we’re serious about this.”

“I am if y’all are,” Kate said.

I nodded in agreement. “We should set up some ground rules: for every one-on-one date that a permutation of the three of us goes on, we have to go on a three-person date.”

“I like that,” Kate said, cutting up her ham and mixing it in with the syrupy pancakes before taking a large bite.

“I do too, but what exactly constitutes a date?” Zeke said. “Again, Faith and I live together and we hang out watching TV basically every night unless I’m going on a date with Kate. Does that count?”

“I don’t really think so, no,” I said.

“Okay, but Kate, be honest, would you get jealous about that? Me and Faith watching movies without you?”

Kate shook her head while chewing her food. She swallowed, then said, “No, that’s just hanging at home.”

“Okay, but what if Faith and I started banging?” Zeke said.

I had the misfortune of swallowing a bite of my own sandwich when he said that, and nearly started choking before forcing the food down. “Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren’t we, Underhill?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “... Fair enough, but like… It’s been on my mind. And I know you well enough to know that it’s been on yours as well. Kate and I have already talked about how we’re not quite ready for that yet-”

Kate put her palm flat across Zeke’s face. “Babe. Babe, we’re in public.”

“... Right, sorry. Forgot that.”

“Thank God this place is almost empty,” I said with a nervous chuckle, looking around to make sure none of the three old couples scattered throughout the diner were gawking at us degenerate youngins. Blind Blake gave way to Dolly Parton, ironically begging Jolene not to steal her man. Heh, I was pretty sure I’d figured out the work around to that particular conundrum. “But, uh, yeah, I’ll admit, there is that aspect to this particular equation. You and I have known each other a while, and I’ve been on HRT long enough that I’ve gotten a lot more comfortable with my body. And since we live together, we certainly have ease of access-”

“Yeah you do,” Kate said, brows raised and grin downright sh*t-eating.

I started laughing in spite of myself. “Damn, Katie, you’re BAD.”

“You’re surprised?” Zeke deadpanned.

“I really shouldn’t be,” I admitted.

“Indeed.”

“Okay, seriously tho- you two are further along in all this stuff then I am,” Kate said.

“Are we? You and Zeke have been together longer,” I said.

“You and Zeke have known each other longer,” Kate retorted.

“And you two have been the most desperate to bang each other the longest,” Zeke said.

“What?!” Kate and I said in tandem.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t deny it,” Zeke said. “We’re already here, in a polycule, don’t act like this is new or anything.”

“It is new,” Kate said. She looked at me. “Right?”

“I…,” I began, quickly trailing off. Then I thought back, to all the times Calloway had annoyed me over the past year, and wondered if there was anything more to that than poor social skills. “Actually, he might be onto something.”

“I don’t understand you sometimes,” Kate said.

“It’s okay, we can work on that,” I said, squeezing her hand.

She blushed. “Sounds good. Also, for what it’s worth, I don’t mind if you two want to start getting intimate with each other. I’m not ready for it yet, but I hopefully will be soon. And there’s no reason for me not to let you two get a head start.”

So many images clouded my mind at that moment. SOOOO MANY. “I… Okay. Zeke, what do you think?”

“I think… I’m open to it. But, circling back a little, how about this,” Zeke said. “A date counts as such if it involves two or more of us going out and doing something together. This can include going to hang out with Katie at her place, and her at our place, but not us two at our own place. Does that sound good?”

“I’m cool with it,” Kate said.

“Me too,” I nodded.

“And we’re agreed that for every two-person date there needs to be a three-of-us date that week?” I asked, finishing off my sandwich.

“Absolutely,” Zeke said, inhaling his last bite of potato salad.

“We should also have a group chat,” Kate said, swallowing a large quantity of pancake.

“Oh, good idea,” I said, whipping out my phone and cobbling one together. I dubbed it ‘Faith’s favorite people.’

“Awww,” Kate said.

“Very cute,” Zeke said. “Relatedly: one last question.”

“Yes?” Kate and I both asked.

“Does this count as one of our ‘all three of us’ dates?” Zeke asked.

“I think so,” I said with a wide smile.

“So do I,” Kate said.

“In that case, a toast,” Zeke said, raising his glass. “To us. And to new beginnings.”

“Cheers!” I said, clinking my glass.

“Cheers!” Kate said.

Jerome came back, with a chocolate malt and three straws on a tray. He set it on our table. “Figured this was where the evening was headed. Did I assume correctly?”

“You did indeed, my good man, you did indeed,” I said.

I reached over to the center and sucked on the straw, the two faces of the people I cared about more than anything came very, very close to me while they did the same thing. We all drank together, not stopping until all three of us were wincing from brain freeze and laughing together through the pain. Kate’s laughter came in time with the final notes of ‘Jolene’, and Zeke held both of our hands as we reveled in each other’s company.

I could get used to this.

***

Later that night, after we’d dropped Kate off at home, Zeke and I made our way back to our place and walked up to our apartment, hand in hand. He smelled so damn good, musky and virile, and his massive hands felt amazing wrapped around my small, calloused ones. He was so much bigger than me, and I’d always been short, but around him, I felt… Delicate. Around him, I felt like me, and I wanted to savor that feeling as much as possible. I wanted to make each second I spent with him count, to make up for the wasted years I’d spent trying to avoid taking responsibility for my feelings. I wanted that with Kate, too, but I’d wanted it with Zeke for longer, and I wanted him to know how much I cared about him.

Besides, I wasn’t tired yet- locking down a relationship with two hotties tends to give you an adrenaline rush, as it turns out.

“Nightcap?” I asked him as he closed and locked the door.

“I… Think I meant it, when I said I don’t wanna drink anymore,” Zeke said with a nervous laugh. “My mom is… Very clearly an alcoholic, and I don’t wanna go down that road.”

“Zeke, hey, you’re nothing like her,” I said, my heart sawing itself in half at his words and his downcast expression. He couldn’t possibly still think he was like his parents. He had to know how amazing he was.

“I know, I just… The risk seems high to me, still,” he said. “I wanna be better than her. And him. Both for myself… And for you and Kate.”

The smile crept onto my face in spite of the sorrow behind the situation. I went to him, cupped his cheeks in my hands. His stubble had already grown thicker- by morning, the beginnings of a beard would already be manifesting. He was so rough and hairy and hard; I was used to girls, soft and smooth and elegant. This was different: this was a man, built differently than me, wired differently than me. It had taken me a few months to really accept that I liked the differences, liked the way he towered over me, liked the way he leapt to my aid without hesitation, liked the way he wanted to be my knight in shining armor. But now that I had, and I knew that I could have it both ways… It was as if I’d unlocked some hidden part of myself, long neglected and shoved into a corner in the back of my mind. I was a woman, yes; but moreover, at that moment, I knew I was one of HIS women. And I loved being that.

Guess it was up to me to show him how much I loved it. Challenge accepted.

“Hey,” I said, standing up on my tip-toes, leaning against his chest, stroking his cheek. “You’re already more than enough for both of us. So don’t ever compare yourself to your idiot parents, yeah?”

“You really mean that?” he said, his nose touching mine, our foreheads pressing together, his heartbeat thundering as I leaned on him.

“I really, really do,” I said, my mouth getting closer to his.

Our lips met, and it was different from our first kiss- that had been exploratory, tentative, nervous. We’d both been shaking when it happened, terrified of the idea that the aftermath might not be as good as the anticipation.

Now we knew we didn’t have that problem. His stubble tickled my face, making me giggle as my tongue entered his mouth and explored the inside. My hands dug into his hair and rubbed his scalp as he pushed forward and pinned me against the wall, hands running down my shoulders and settling on my hips. My knee popped and I pushed back, kissing his neck and his cheek, my hands running over his hard, muscular chest.

He gripped my hips tightly and lifted me up, and I settled into his arms as my forehead pressed against his and my tongue once again found its way down his throat. “Bedroom?” I said in a hungry whisper.

“Are you sure?” he said, kissing me up and down my arm.

“Only if you are,” I purred.

“That… That would be a nightcap more up my alley,” he said. “We’ll have to tell Katie about this, though.”

“That’s fine with me,” I said, pulling off his shirt and witnessing the glory of his six pack abs and toned pectorals, digging my hands into his modest garden of dark chest hair, nibbling his shoulder lightly. Arousal burned like a wildfire through every inch of me, desperate to consume everything. “And she said she was fine with it.”

“Okay,” he said, a downright wicked smile on his face, mischief in his eyes. He bridal-carried me into his room.

“Throw me onto the bed,” I pleaded. I was small and delicate, and I was in his massive hands and strong arms. I wanted to be reminded of just how much he could do to me.

“Throw you?!” he said, aghast.

I giggled. Oh, Zeke. Ever the gentleman. “Okay, toss me lightly. Is that better?”

He laughed, and carefully tossed me onto his mattress. Then he jumped on as well, kicking off his shoes and pinning me down by my wrists. He loomed above me, a massive tower of masculine desire and intention. “I’ve dreamt of this moment. Literally dreamt of it.”

“Honestly, same,” I said, looking up into him, desperate to relinquish all control and give myself over to him, mind and body- ESPECIALLY body. “Guess dreams really do come true.”

“Evidently, yes,” he said, tugging the dress down from my shoulders and carefully folding it before placing it on the floor. It was honestly the sweetest little thing he could have done, and it very definitely DID SOMETHING for me. “Now then: shall we begin, oh captain my captain?”

“Yes please,” I said as I unzipped his jeans and pulled them down.

A very long, very involved, very sweaty night proceeded from there.

Chapter 22

Chapter Text

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***

Kate

I sat at the breakfast table the next morning with my parents, nursing a mug of black coffee alongside a bagel and lox, my mom reading a fashion magazine and my dad parsing the financial section of theWall Street Journalwhilst fiddling with his abacus. Many thoughts swam laps inside my mind, and chief among them was, ‘how the hell do I tell my parents I’m in a polycule?’

“Have you got the details for your next fight yet, Kate?” Mom said, looking up from her magazine while reaching for the coffee pot balanced on an oven mitt on the table.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” I said. “I’m fighting TeamForest Fireon Friday.”

“Oooh, that’s exciting,” Mom said. “Try not to get distracted by the man-candy though.”

I giggled. “Moooommmm.”

“Just saying, I probably wouldn’t be able to focus that well going up against a bunch of former firefighters,” Mom said.

“Do I have something to be concerned about?” Dad said wryly, grinning without looking up from what he was doing.

“Never, darling. You’re the only one for me,” Mom said.

“Good to hear,” Dad said. “Same to you.”

I gulped.

“Everything alright, Katie?” Mom asked.

“I, well,” I said. Hoooo boy this was difficult. I hadn’t had to come out to them as trans, they’d done all the work for me, but this…

Okay, let’s take a step back,I told myself.Mom and Dad have thus far demonstrated themselves to be completely reasonable, understanding people who will love me no matter what. Maybe I should just rip off the bandage and hope for the best.

“How are things between you and your young man?” Dad asked. He seemed to like referring to Zeke as that- Dad was so inexplicably old-fashioned in the weirdest ways. He used an abacus, a flip-phone, and got a physical newspaper delivered every day. It was occasionally shocking to me how forward-thinking he was when he had such a fixation on the aesthetics of the past.

Then again, was Mom really any different? Most of the dresses she designed harkened back to some previous decade of women’s fashion. I swear she would dress like a fifties housewife every day if it were remotely practical.

They were the picture of an old fashioned marriage: they’d met in college and gotten engaged their senior year, used the graduation money they’d been gifted to start a small business, and then had me almost right away. Then again, they’d met through their college’s anime club, the small business they owned catered to all the weirdos and hipsters that came in, and their darling child was… Me.

“Things are good with Zeke and I, but, uh, there’s something you should know,” I said.

Dad finally put down his newspaper and shoved his abacus aside. He removed his reading glasses and stared deep into my soul in that way only fathers seem capable of. “Does he have any venereal diseases?”

“What?!No, no, nothing like that,” I said.

“You’re sure? You have confirmation of that? Because I understand that you’re young and eager to explore certain long-neglected aspects of yourself-”

“AAAAHHHHH,” I screamed, closing my eyes and putting my hands over my face.

“David, you’re scaring her,” Mom said. Through parted fingers I saw her raise an eyebrow. “Though it is important to make sure-”

“He doesn’t have any STDs!” I said, throwing my hands into the air with exasperation. “He told me so- verbatim!”

“Oh, good,” Dad said. “So then what’s the issue? He seems like a nice young man.”

I drew a deep breath, and exhaled slowly, trying to push cloying particles of exhaustion out of my lungs. “I’m not just dating Zeke. I’m also dating Faith.”

“They’re… Sharing you?” Mom said, squinting and tilting her head.

“No, they’re dating each other as well,” I said.

“So all three of you are dating each other?” Dad said. “All at the same time?”

“Yes, basically.”

“How long has this been happening?” Dad said.

I looked at the clock on the microwave. “Uh… About eleven hours?”

“I see,” Dad said.

“How exactly did this happen?” Mom asked.

“Well, Zeke and I started dating.”

“Yes, we know that part,” Dad said.

“But he and Faith had liked each other for a while, but neither of them knew that the other liked them back until I came around and… Uh… Forced the issue, I guess.”

“Okay, but when did Faith start liking you?” Mom asked.

“Honestly, I’m still a little confused by that part myself, but I think it was when I started hanging out with her as a friend and encouraging her to tell Zeke how she felt-”

“Wait, what?” Dad asked.

“It’s a long story,” I said.

“Evidently so,” Dad said.

“When did you start liking her?” Mom asked.

“I think I always liked her on some level,” I said, looking down and shifting in my seat. “She always seemed so cool and calm and even-keeled, and she’s such a great engineer, I just wanted to impress her, so I kept… Making an ass of myself, trying to get her to notice me. And then I got to know her more, and she turned out to be just as big of a dork as I am, not to mention a ton of fun to be around… And I wanted her to be happy. And when she said what would make her happiest was getting to be with both of us… Well, that made me really happy. It feels… It feels really good, being with both of them.”

Mom and Dad exchanged a Look, one of those mutual expressions of understanding they’d shared intermittently for as long as I could remember. Normally, they infuriated me- some sort of social understanding through nonverbal communication I didn’t think I’d ever truly be able to comprehend, because I’d always thought… I’d always thought I’d be alone forever. But now… I think I understood it then. They were confused, and they were concerned, but… They weren’t mad.

At least, I didn’t think they were.

… Okay, I was seventy percent sure they weren’t mad. Best to confirm it. “Are you guys mad at me?”

Mom released a gentle sigh and put a hand on my shoulder. She never said anything when she did things like that, she always just went right for it. I wondered… Did I get that from her? “Of course we’re not mad. Well, I’m not- your inscrutable, stoic, marble statue of a father will need to clarify that for himself-”

Dad scoffed, rolled his eyes, and said, “I’m not mad either. I’m…Perplexedby all this, is what I am.”

“Which is also true of me,” Mom said. “You’ve… Never been what I would call a social butterfly, and now you have two partners. And if you’re happy, and you trust both of them, then I’m happy, and I trust both of them. But please, please, PLEASE be careful. Your father and I… We don’t really know much about this kind of thing. You being trans… Well, we saw that coming and had plenty of time to prepare. This is kinda taking us by surprise. We weren’t even sure… What kind of person you liked, never even considered you might like all kinds.”

I gulped, and I nodded. Finally, I cracked a smile. “Thank you, Mom. Thank you, Dad.”

“Of course,” Mom smiled back.

“Any time,” Dad said.

I gave a weak laugh. “If you don’t mind my asking… When you guys first started suspecting I might be trans-”

“‘Suspecting’ implies that we ever had any doubt after finding the evidence,” Dad said.

“Be nice, dear,” Mom chastised him.

“-How did you… You know, react?” I finished.

They exchanged another Look. Finally, after about thirty seconds, Mom said, “We were… Confused, at first, by what it all meant. Surprised. But after we started thinking about it, and doing research… The more sense it started to make. There were a lot of signs.”

“There were?” I asked, brow furrowing. “Like what?”

“You used to throw tantrums whenever we made you get a haircut,” Dad said.

“You always played as girl-characters in video games,” Mom said.

“You would get extremely annoyed at anyone who called you ‘young man’ or ‘sir’ or ‘boy,’” Dad said. “Heck, you barely seemed to hear it whenever anyone called you by your old name.”

“Your favorite character in every Gundam you’ve ever watched is any girl who gets into a robot,” Mom said. “Seriously, I don’t think there’s a bigger Sayla Mass fan in the Western Hemisphere.”

“When you were a little kid, a very small one, you used to offer to model your mother’s dresses for you,” Dad said. “And after she started taking you up on the offer, you got very excited whenever she had you do it again.”

“Wait, seriously?” I laughed, rubbing the freshly-shorn back of my neck. “I don’t remember that.”

“We have pictures,” Mom said.

“You took pictures?” I asked, flabbergasted.

“You insisted we take pictures,” Dad said, pulling out the flip phone he’d owned for as long as I could remember and pulling up pictures of what did in fact resemble a much younger me modeling my mother’s dresses.

“Huh,” I said.

“Yeah, plus all those longing glances you gave to the dresses we have up in the store,” Mom said. “Once we found the underwear, it all kinda clicked into place.”

“Alright, yeah, it’s kinda hard to argue with all that,” I said. “Have I mentioned that I love you guys, and that you’re the best parents ever?”

“Yes, but we can always stand to hear it a little more,” Mom smirked.

I poured myself a little more coffee, and basked in the warmth of my loving home. It felt good.

I felt good.

***

After an absolute behemoth of an opening shift, families pouring in at the height of beach season desperately looking for swimwear for hours and hours, I spent a few hours wrenching onPolyphemusin my garage, re-installing the katana. I’d seen TeamForest Firework their ax, and I didn’t want to try to beat them at their own game. Instead, I focused on making modifications to maximize speed and mobility. If I could stay out of their range, out-drive them, cripple their wheels, I’d have a fighting chance.

It was all riding on this. If I wanted into the playoffs, I NEEDED this win.

After that I showered, shaved my legs, blow-dried my hair, and did my makeup. Faith was coming over to help me practice my voice, and it would be the first time I’d seen her since… Well, she and I had started dating. My heart raced backwards at the idea that mygirlfriendwas coming to see me, to help me be the girl I wanted to be. I put on my favorite dress, the first one I’d worn. Zeke had seen me in it, but Faith hadn’t yet. I did a twirl, then another, then another, reveling in the giddy sensation of gender euphoria as I dove further and further into femininity. Faith wanted to help me cultivate that, and all I wanted to do in return was support her and Zeke both. To be the warmth and light they both needed, just like they were for me.

An idea struck me then, about what kind of woman I wanted to be, and about what kind of image I wanted to work towards in the tournament.

I was so busy walking on air I barely noticed Faith was late. First by a half hour, then an hour, then an hour and a half. I texted her, called her, did the same with Zeke, all to no avail. Concern germinated inside me, threatening to choke out reason and serenity, so I hopped into my truck and braved the drive over to their place.

I knocked on their door, and waited, and waited, and waited, until finally, I heard some signs of life dragging their feet over the floor and lumbering towards the door.

Zeke opened the door and loomed over me, hair a bed-headed mess, sans shirt (ABS), lipstick marks covering his face and neck. And he smelled like… Well, he smelled like Faith’s perfume.

Zeke seemed to take a moment to register that I was standing there, but when he did, his eyes bulged wide and he let out a squeak. “Kate!”

“That would be me, yes,” I said, mustering up a wry grin, trying to ignore the green flames of envy smoldering inside my heart. This was okay, this was fine, I’d signed off on this, I had no right to be jealous, none whatsoever-

“Kate?!” Faith’s voice reached out from the interior of the apartment, echoing across the hall and hitting me. It rang a quarter-octave lower than I was accustomed to at this point. Not quite what she’d sounded like last season, but a little closer…

I wondered what my facial expression looked like at that moment? Honestly, I had no clue- I’d never been terribly aware of what my face was doing at a given moment, not unless I was concentrating on it very, very hard.

Of course, given Zeke’s rather mortified look, I could probably hazard an educated guess that I didn’t look terribly pleased.

Crap.

Faith stumbled across a living room that was a mess of strewn about clothes and disarrayed furniture, hair even more frazzled then Zeke’s was, clad in Zeke’s IGPX t-shirt (it was practically a ballroom dancing gown on her, it was so big). “This isn’t what it looks like.”

I co*cked an eyebrow.

Faith looked like she was suppressing a chuckle.

I squinted and tilted my head to the side.

Faith blanched and went stone-faced instantly.

“Please come in, I’m begging you not to make us have this conversation in the hallway,” Zeke said, exasperation so heavy it made his shoulders slump.

This is fine, this is fine, I agreed to it, this is fine,I repeated in my head like a steady drumbeat as I nodded and entered the apartment.

I sat down on the couch, and Zeke brought me a glass of ice-water. I took a long, cold sip, released an audible ‘ahhh’, and set it down on the table without a coaster. They really ought to get some coasters for this place.

“So,” I said.

“So,” Zeke said.

“So,” Faith said.

“You guys-”

“Yes,” they both said sheepishly, standing in front of me, nothing between us but the coffee table.

“All night?” I asked.

“Yes,” they said again.

“And into the morning and early afternoon?”

“I guess,” Faith said. “What time is it now?”

“It’s two-thirty in the afternoon.”

“Oh wow,” she said. “I guess we lost track of time.”

“The battery ran out on my phone,” Zeke said weakly.

“I don’t know why you two look so guilty,” I said, forcing a smile onto my face. “I said this was okay. So it’s okay. Okay?”

“Your smile isn’t reaching your eyes, babe,” Zeke said, shuffling his foot across the floor awkwardly.

“Huh? What does that mean?”

“It, uh… It means you’re not being totally honest.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Your facial expression.”

“Well what does it look like?” I said, leaning forward.

“... You mean you don’t know?”

“I very rarely do. What does it look like?”

“Uh, well…,” Zeke said.

“Like this,” Faith said, scrunching up her brow and conjuring the world’s tiniest smile. It looked like a thin sheet of glass balancing on an edge, about to fall over and shatter at the slightest nudge.

“Oh,” I said, looking down. Dammit. Dammit dammit dammitthis is fine, I should be fine with this, if they’re happy then I should be happy so why don’t I feel happy?!

Faith glided over to me and sat down on my left side, and she beckoned Zeke over with her fingers and sat him on my right. “Let it out. Let it all out.”

“There’s nothing… Nothing to… To let out. I’m fine.”

“Kate,” Faith said. “Like I said before: you taught me a really valuable lesson about being honest with your own emotions and having the courage to vocalize them. So please be honest with us now. Are you upset?”

“I…,” I started, but the words stopped there and then. I closed my eyes and I nodded vigorously instead.

“Are you jealous?” Faith asked.

I nodded again, with equivalent ferocity.

“Alright. That’s completely understandable. We should have talked to you before we did this-”

“You did talk to me, though,” I said, slowly opening my eyes. “I just didn’t think you’d get down to business right away. It… It feels…”

“It feels dishonest,” Zeke said, staring directly ahead, pupils dilated, fingers pressed against his temple while his elbow was propped on the armrest. “Like Faith and I are sneaking around, waited for you to not be there to…”

“Zeke, no!” I said, leaning on him, putting my arm around his arm, rubbing his shoulder. “You didn’t do anything wrong! You shouldn’t feel ashamed.”

“I’m not-”

I glared at him, and if I had to guess, Faith was doing the same.

“Okay, I do feel a little ashamed,” he grumbled.

“You shouldn’t!” I said.

“And you shouldn’t be comforting me right now when I’m the one who upset you by not being able to keep it in my pants!”

“Hey, c’mon, we should be sharing the blame for this,” Faith said.

“No, there shouldn’t be any blame at all!” I said, running my hands through my hair. “Neither of you did anything wrong. I shouldn’t be feeling upset or jealous at all- I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to this!”

“Yeah, but knowing it intellectually and knowing it emotionally are two different things,” Faith said. “You’re new to dating, and Zeke and I are new to this, so it’s completely reasonable that we won’t always be able to predict how we’ll feel about certain things. Because relationships are full of weird, irrational emotions that you can’t plan for and can’t always articulate. But being honest about having them, and talking them through with your partner-”

“Or partners,” Zeke added.

“-That’s what keeps a relationship alive,” Faith said. She grabbed my hand and kissed my knuckles, then rested her head on my shoulder. “So how do you feel right now?”

“I feel,” I said, trying to breathe into what was going through my head, “I feel overwhelmed. Shocked. Flabbergasted. I guess I didn’t… I didn’t really consider everything about this before. I didn’t think that you guys were already at a place where you’d be having sex. I honestly thought… You’d wanna wait a while. But that was me projecting, because I’m a dumb virgin-”

“No talking bad about yourself!” Faith and Zeke said simultaneously, one in each ear.

“Okay,” I whimpered.

“Good,” Zeke said. “That’s our girlfriend you’re talking about- remember that!”

An emotion I recognized shot through me: I was flustered. “Mmmmm,” I intoned.

Zeke chuckled. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, just that I feel better now that I admitted how I was feeling,” I said. “And that I’m grateful you were both willing to talk this out with me.”

“Of course, Katie,” Faith said, leaning forward. “You’re our girlfriend, remember?”

I went warm and gooey again as Faith kissed me on one cheek, and Zeke, as if on cue, kissed my other one. I wiggled in my seat and squealed, then kissed them both on the mouth.

“Okay, so, one thing I should actually apologize for, though,” Faith said. “I completely spaced and forgot I was supposed to help you with voice practice today.”

“Yeahh, that’s kinda why I came over,” Kate said. “Honestly, in some way I’m relieved- you two are both okay, you just got distracted by each other. Which makes sense- you’re both super hot!”

“No, you’re super hot!” Faith said.

I stood up and planted my hands on my hips. “No! YOU’RE super hot.”

Faith stood up and mimicked my posture. “No! You’re super hot!”

I leaned in and kissed her, slipped in some tongue, her soft lips and delicate mannerisms an instant balm on any emotional wounds I might’ve still possessed.

Zeke’s baritone laughter turned raucous. “You’re BOTH super hot!”

Faith and I stopped kissing and turned to him, then did a double-take and looked at each other, then back to him. “No, you!” we said in unison.

Then we both jumped on him and started kissing him all over his face.

We three collapsed into a cuddle-puddle after that, interrupted by occasional makeout sessions, before finally, Faith said, “So, do you still wanna do your training today?”

“I know I should, but I don’t know if I still have the energy after all this.”

“Pfft, you’ve only been here for ten minutes, you dweeb,” Faith said, poking my cheek.

I poked hers back. “That’s my move.”

“Well I’m stealing it,” Faith said. “Seriously, though, if you want to skip it today, we can. We can go somewhere or hang out instead.”

“Ehhh… I’m torn,” I said, resting on Zeke’s chest, feeling his strong arms around me while mine wrapped around Faith. “I know I should, and I should also be trying to prepare for my match Friday.”

“Oh yeah, we have our last one too,” Faith said. “We’re up againstJolly Roger.”

“Oh, no,” I said, recalling their undefeated record and brutally decisive victories in each battle this year.

“Yeahhh,” Faith moaned.

“Hmm,” Zeke said, the sounds vibrating into me through his chest, accompanying the rise and fall of his breath and the steady beating of his heart. “That gives me an idea.”

He shimmied out from under me, causing me to fall flat on the couch with Faith nestled safely in my arms shielded from impact. “You two do your vocal exercises- I need to go run an errand. I’ll pick us up some food on the way back, and then I’ll set up my surprise. Is Thai Dishes good?”

“Thai is great,” I said. “Pineapple fried rice, please.”

“Shrimp pad thai for me,” Faith.

“Awesome,” he leaned over and gave me a kiss on the lips, his beard tickling me and making me giggle as we smooched, then he did the same to Faith before heading into his room and putting on some people-clothes. I got a quality view of him taking off his pants and standing there in his underwear a moment while it happened, Faith wolf-whistling as she straddled my chest. Once Zeke had pulled on a shirt and jeans, he said, “I’ll be back in a couple hours. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do while I’m gone.”

Faith looked at me with a naughty expression as she said, “I think we’ll manage, darling.”

I just laughed before sitting up. “C’mon, horndog, let’s get started.”

After a few more minutes of smooching, I convinced Faith it was time for vocal exercises, and we got to work. It took up about an hour, after which point we wound up going into her room so she could show me her massive… Comic book collection.

No, that’s not a euphemism. She really just had a massive collection of American comics and manga. Mostly Stargirl, JSA, Captain America, and other Golden Age themed titles on the American front, and a ton of magical girl and shoujo stuff on the manga front.

“I’ll be honest, I haven’t really read a ton of comics,” I said.

“What, you haven’t?!” Faith said,

“I don’t really read much,” I laughed awkwardly.

“Sit,” Faith said.

“I-”

“Sit,” Faith repeated, pointing at the bed.

I felt my face go flush, a warm and lovely desire to trust her on this running down my spine. She pulled a Stargirl comic off the shelf and then hopped onto the bed with me, pulling me down onto my back and putting her arm around me while opening the comic with her free hand. “Let me know when to turn the page.”

“Okay,” I said, melting into her arms and letting myself get lost in the story.

We got halfway through the thick tome before the front door came unlocked and Zeke stepped back inside the humble abode. “Honeys, I’m home!” he called out.

Faith closed the book and said, “First one there gets to kiss Zeke first!” She hopped off the bed and ran off.

“Hey no fair!” I said, chasing after her. Fortunately, my legs were longer and I caught up and overtook her pretty quickly. “Hahaha!” I said, sticking my tongue out at her then burying it in Zeke’s mouth. “Hi,” I smiled.

“Hi,” Zeke said. Then Faith caught up, grabbed his lapel, and pulled him into a kiss. “Also, hi. You two ladies keep entertained while I was gone?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Faith said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Oh, hush,” I said, boldness bubbling up inside me. “A lady shouldn’t kiss and tell.”

“No, please tell, I’m begging you,” Zeke said.

“Maybe. If you’re good,” I said, tousling his hair. I noticed the six paper bags he was carrying then. “What’ve you got there, hot stuff?”

“Oh, a few things. I stopped by a few stores and got us a projector, and then burned a few discs.”

“What for?” I asked.

“We all need to go over some film for our upcoming fights,” Zeke said. “Figure we could do something fun and make a movie night of it. I also bought a tarp, so we can watch them on the roof once the sun finishes going down.”

“That sounds amazing,” I said.

“Agreed,” Faith said. “But first, dinner!”

“Dinner!” I said, pumping my fists.

“Dinner,” Zeke nodded, holding up another bag, deliciously salty scents emanating from it.

We ate while listening to Faith ramble about comics, and I diligently took mental notes on her lecture. Once we were done, the dark had finished falling for the evening, and we made our way up onto the flat roof of the building while Zeke set up the tarp and projector and loaded the DVD into the slot. The night was cool and clear, with a gentle breeze tossing about the air.

First wasJolly Roger. Captained by Nia Westfield, a five-foot-nine wall of muscle with a short-cropped head of natural hair framing her dark face, a golden-stud nose ring, and legs for days (and days. And days. And days-), she cut an imposing figure with her crewmates- all of whom were her former subordinates from when they’d served aboard the same ship during their tour in the Navy. Faith growled when they came on screen, and when they played the Navy song as their walkup music.

“Interservice rivalry flaring up?” Zeke asked.

“Little bit,” Faith said, sitting cross-legged on the blanket she’d draped over the cement surface of the roof. “Just flashing back to my brother’s college football career- Annapolis played Westpoint every year and they always freaking won!”

“Well, think of this as an opportunity to avenge your brother,” I said.

“I still can’t believe I just learned about him like a week ago,” Zeke said.

“I should write him a letter,” Faith said, errantly scratching her chin.

Jolly Rogerlooked like a wooden ship driving on four wheels, though the sails were strictly ornamental and the wood was more of an exoskeleton than anything else- beneath it was solid steel on four wheels, and in place of its mast was a drill. Only one, but it was much bigger than even the biggest ones I’d seen on DG. The film of JR’s fight withFlipperplayed; Flipperflipped the enemy bot a half dozen times in the first minute and shattered its wooden shielding entirely. But the good ship simply wouldn’t sink- that was its greatest strength. It was nearly impossible to KO because of the sheer amount of armor it had.

“What do you guys think will happen if drill meets drill?” I asked.

“Probably the drills shatter and the fight turns into a shoving match,” Faith, drumming her fingers on her knee.

“Hm,” I said, running my hands through my hair. “What if it doesn’t have to, though?”

“I mean, they have a bigger drill than us, so I suppose it’s entirely possible that only DG gets crippled in that scenario,” Faith said.

“Hold on, I think I see what she’s getting at,” Zeke said, leaning forward. “Jolly Rogeris heavier thanDai Gurren, and it doesn’t have any obvious weak points likePendulumdoes. But it’s every bit as slow, and its weapon isn’t nearly as strong or as well protected asPendulum’s.We disable that drill-”

“-And it’s still denser than us and can shove us into the screws pretty easily,” Faith said.

“Not if we stay mobile, it can’t,” Zeke said.

“He’s right, at that point it’s a driving contest,” I said.

“Okay, but let’s look at the driver in question,” Faith said, hitting fast-forward on the film then pausing on an image of a five-flat east Asian woman with long black hair worn in a regulation bun. “Lenora Li. She pilots that thing like it’s a damn aircraft carrier, and in her hands, it may as well be. She’s no Gregson, sure, but most people aren’t. She can dodge a staggering amount of blows- more than should even be possible given the relative speeds ofJolly Roger.”

“How many opponents with multi-bots have they gone up against?” I asked.

“Not many- there aren’t that many of those,” Faith said. “I don’t even really think of ours as a multi-bot. We hardly ever useGurren.”

“Yeah, but I think our last bout made a good case for using the little guy more often,” Zeke said.

“Fair point,” Faith acquiesced.

“Very fair,” I said. “You guys should use it in this match. Anything for an edge.”

“This gives me an idea,” Zeke said. “What if we attach a new face plate, and install all of our drills at once? The three big ones and the five small ones? Give us maximum firepower, so we can disableJolly Roger’sprimary weapon with a direct assault and still have more to work with?”

“I like it,” Faith said, “But where are we gonna get a new face at such short notice?”

“Gaines,” I offered immediately. “He has one exactly like that. You can use my employee discount; should be well within your budget at that point.”

“A-are you serious?” Faith balked.

“‘Course I’m serious,” I smiled, giving Faith a peck on the lips, holding her chin between my fingers. “Anything for my woman. And my man. And especially both of them at once.”

“Hmmm,” Faith sighed dreamily. “Okay.”

We watched a bit more fight footage forJolly Roger,just to get all of our bases covered, but the plan remained intact.

After that, we switched discs and started onForest Fire. It had a relatively simplistic design, a rectangular body with a chopping ax that came down from overhead. But that simplicity made it dangerous- the ax was double-bladed and worked just as well as a ramming weapon as it did a chopping one, and the lack of frills belied a focus on speed and maneuverability. It ran circles aroundUltimate Frisbeein the footage we watched, dodging each attempt at ramming and getting the fragile spinner to crash into the sides of the box. And at one point, under the screws. Then, as soon as the spinning function was disabled, FF buried its ax in the circular bot and reduced it to scrap metal in three blows.

“You said you were going with the katana on this one, right Katie?” Zeke asked.

“That’s the plan. My ax-work just won’t cut it compared to theirs-”
“Boooo,” Faith said.

I gave her face a playful shove and continued, “Screw you, puns are awesome. Also, I’m thinking of ditching the flamethrowers for this fight.”

“Are you sure about that?” Faith said. “There’d be a certain delicious irony to beating the firemen with flamethrowers.”

“Oh, trust me, I appreciate that,” I said. “But FF is way too fast for me to get a clean shot at it. I have to out-pilot these guys if I want to win.”

“What if their ax shatters your sword?” Zeke said.

I paused. “That… That is a good question. I didn’t think about that.”

“What about a side-knife?” Faith offered. “I can help you install it- we have one on DG. It’s pretty simple. If you’re not using the flamethrowers, you can install a secondary weapon pretty easily without slowing yourself down.”

“Faith!” I said, cupping her face. She blushed, which was probably the single most adorable thing I’d ever seen. “You beautiful genius! Thank you!”

She kissed me. “Well, I don’t know about all that. Genius, sure, but beautiful-”

“Oh shut your mouth, you’re gorgeous,” I said, leaning closer to her face and planting another kiss on her.

Zeke leaned in and pulled her face towards him, giving her a kiss as well. “I’m inclined to agree.”

“W-w-what? Me, gorgeous?” Faith stammered. “That’s absurd- I’m not even cute, let alone gorgeous.”

I smirked. “Yeah, but there’s literally nothing cuter than a cute girl insisting she’s not cute.”

“I am not cute!” Faith pouted, putting her hands on her hips.

“Case in point,” Zeke said.

“Your honor, the defense rests,” I said.

“Stahp!” she whined, collapsing backwards onto the blanket.

Zeke and I nodded at each other, and then we both laid down next to her and started cuddling her and kissing her cheeks. “It seems we’ll have to convince her, Mr. Underhill. Are you up for the task?”

“I’m more than happy to undertake this righteous cause, Ms. Calloway,” Zeke said.

Faith, for her part, wouldn’t stop squealing.

We wound up not watching much more film after that- we got distracted taking turns making out with each other.

***

“I should probably go home,” I said, looking at my phone and noting the approach of midnight.

“Awww, do you have to?” Faith groaned as she helped Zeke take down the tarp.

“I got work in the morning, and another photoshoot in the afternoon,” I said, turning off the projector and putting the discs into their respective sleeves in the CD binder.

“Sounds so glamorous when you say it like that,” Faith said as we all headed out the access door and went back downstairs. We stopped in front of the door to their apartment.

“It’s really not,” I said. “It’s just what I’ve got to do right now. I don’t think it’ll be forever.”

“As long as it’s working right now, that’s the important part,” Zeke said, giving me a kiss.

“Amen,” Faith said, giving me one as well.

“Exactly,” I said, hugging the both of them. “I had a good time today-”

“Hurt feelings notwithstanding?” Zeke asked.

“All is forgiven,” I said, pulling out of the hug. “You two get some sleep. And remember- you’re allowed to bang. I don’t mind.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they both said as they opened the door and went inside.

Elation saturated every fiber of my being as I left their building and made their way to my car. We could do this, the three of us. We all cared about each other, and we were all willing to be honest with each other about how we felt. And we were able to help each other in our robot fighting careers as well!

Still, though. An errant, terrifying thought couldn’t help but dance through my mind. We were all helping each other get to the tournament, but… If both our teams made it, what would happen if we had to fight each other again?

I searched for the answer my entire drive back home, and to my dismay, my chagrin, my abject horror, I couldn’t find one.

Chapter 23

Chapter Text

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***

Faith

12 Months Earlier

“Mom, Dad, I’m trans,” I said, staring at them through my computer screen, clad in my new light blue dress, a feeble attempt at makeup adorning my face, my disgustingly low voice cracking with anxiety.

They were both wearing their dress uniforms, Dad’s silver-white hair short-cropped and managerial, Mom’s darker locks bound in a tight regulation bun. They both sat on the white sofa I’d used to watch cartoons on, in the living room where I used to do my homework on the mahogany coffee table, framed photos of myself and DJ hanging from the white walls behind them. He was the picture of an all-american boy, grown into the kind of son any parent would be proud of.

And then there was me.

Mom’s jaw hung open, while Dad’s frown betrayed his usual stoic neutrality.

“Please say something,” I said, fearing a repeat of Olivia the other night. I hadn’t wanted to do this so soon, but they started calling me on FaceTime, and after a few minutes sitting there with my hands trembling, bunching up the hem of my dress, I called them back on my computer.

And there they sat.

“You’re trans,” Dad said, finally, slowly, chewing on each word like he was trying to avoid swallowing the truth.

“I am,” I said, still bunching up my dress in my hands. I could hear my heart echoing inside my chest, sweat pooling on my brow, everything so damn loud.

“How long… How long have you known this?” Mom asked, her voice struggling to decide on a tone.

“A really long time,” I said. “A little less than ten years.”

“Ten years?!” Dad said. “And you’re just telling us this now?”

“I… I… Yeah,” I said. “I was scared.”

“Well you should be, this is gonna make your life a lot harder,” Dad said.

I blinked. “I know.”

“Do you? Have you really considered this from every angle? About what the costs will be?” Dad said. “You’re now a double-minority. You realize that, right?”

“I-”

“Take this from someone who’s a minority in a major institution- it makes things harder. You’re held to a higher standard, and if you don’t meet that standard, they come down on you vastly harder than they would otherwise. And there aren’t that many women in STEM, let alone trans women in STEM-”

“Dear,” Mom said, putting a hand on Dad’s shoulder.

“What- it’s true,” Dad said. “I’m just giving our daughter the warning she’ll need to-”

“Daughter?” I said, leaning forward, my vicious pulse slowing ever so slightly. “So you’re… You’re not mad?”

“What? Of course I’m not mad,” Dad said. “You’re my kid. I don’t really understand all this trans stuff, but you’re still my kid.”

I choked back tears. “A-a-and you, Mom?”

Mom exhaled slowly. “If… If this is what you really want, I won’t get in your way. I don’t really understand these things either, but… I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you still love me?” I whispered.

“Of course I still love you,” Mom said, tears streaming down her face.

“Ca-can you please call me Faith, then?”

“Faith?” Mom said, struggling to smile. “Faith. Okay. My daughter, Faith.”

“Our daughter, Faith,” Dad said, squeezing Mom’s hand.

I wept openly, not caring about the mess I was making of my mascara. “Thank you. I love you both. Thank you.”

Mom wrung her hands together and said, “Your father… He’s right, though. This is going to make your life a lot harder and a lot more complicated. Are you prepared for the level of scrutiny you’re going to start being subjected to?”

“I… I don’t know yet,” I said. “But I don’t think I really have a choice. This is who I am. And I want to show her the world.”

“Okay,” Mom said. “Then we’ll support you.”

“Absolutely, we will,” Dad said. “Life is gonna be tough, but we’ll help in any way we can.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m sure I’m gonna need it.”

After a bit longer, mostly the folks asking me to tell them the whole story of how I realized it all, how I kept it all inside, how I’d promised myself I’d come out when I was a champion. They said they would help me find a clinic in LA that would take our insurance, Mom said she had a few outfits and accessories she would send me, and Dad said he would get a hold of DJ and tell him for me.

And when it was over, they were gone. And I still had to face the world.

I wasn’t sure I was ready. But there wasn’t really much of a choice.

A day later, my Dad emailed me some paperwork to help me file my name change, as well as a list of common reasons people’s petitions got rejected. A day after that, I filed it.

A week later, I started sending out job applications under my new name. It only took another day before I started getting rejections left and right. They all used the same neutral, nondescript language, saying they’d ‘found other candidates more suited to their needs.’ I looked up from my laptop after opening five of those emails at once, over to the college diploma on the wall, the one I’d crossed out the deadname from and wrote ‘Faith’ over with a sharpie, as well as the Valedictorian sash hanging on a hook next to it. I sighed deeply, trying not to torture myself with pointless questions like ‘what could they possibly mean by that?’

A week after that, I found out my petition had been rejected, meaning I had to start the whole process over. It turned out I’d forgotten to initial something, so I refiled, only to get another rejection. After a dozen calls to City Hall, I found out I was missing a form. So I filed again, ate through the fee again, only to get the hearing scheduled for six months later because that was all they had available, if only I’d filed sooner they’d have been able to book me for next week. Oh, the tragedy.

A month later, I saw a doctor and they prescribed me Estradiol and Spironolactone. A month after that, I finally got a job. Waiting tables. I needed something, and it was the only gig I could find that wanted someone like me.

I got fired in less than a month. Some little kid kept screaming ‘why’s that boy wearing lipstick? Why’s that boy pretending to be a girl?’ I’d finally had enough and screamed ‘shut the f*ck up.’ Very loudly.

That was how I found out restaurants don’t offer severance pay.

I’d gone home that night and collapsed sobbing on the couch, woke up having a panic attack. Zeke rushed in and held me tight, helped me through it.

I got another job, this one for an engineering firm. As a secretary. I hadn’t even applied for it, they just called me for an interview and told me they wanted to hire me as a secretary when I got there, right as I was about to show them a portfolio of all the projects I’d worked on.

I swallowed my pride and did what I had to do to keep the lights on.

I’d been working on my voice over the months, and I sounded better, so there wasn’t too much misgendering happening when I answered the phone. Usually, anyway.

I couldn’t stop thinking about what Dad said, about how this was going to make things harder. I hated it when he was right. And I hated it even more than I hadn’t been honest with him and Mom: I wasn’t ready. I’d already known that.

I wasn’t ready. And I wasn’t sure I ever would be.

***

Present Day

I woke up in Zeke’s arms, heart beating so fast it made my chest vibrate, the cold, locked-in feeling of a panic attack oversaturating my conscious mind. Like I was still there on that day I’d blown up at a kid; like I was still sitting in my apartment reading the tenth rejection email, bundling up under my blankets and wanting never to leave my room again; like I was still sitting in front of my laptop waiting for my parents to pick up the Facetime call; like I was still sitting there while they processed the sight of me en femme, too shocked to say anything and forcing me to go first.

Like I was still in the seconds before I’d come out to Zeke and Olivia.

Like I was still biting Kate Calloway’s head off when she was just trying to be nice and congratulate me on my win.

I didn’t feel like a winner. I don’t even remember the last time I did.

Zeke’s eyes flickered open, green and gentle, at first brimming with joy and recognition as he looked at me, only for it to shift to concern within a second of the wakefulness. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I whispered.

“You okay?”

I shook my head.

“Bad dreams?”

“Mixed with very real memories, yeah,” I said.

He ran a hand through my hair, cupped my cheek, and kissed my forehead. “It’s okay. I’m here. And you’re here. Now. In this moment, with me.”

I gulped, and I nodded, and buried my face in his bare chest, his musk helping me wake up and ground me in reality.

And it was a pretty great reality- I had a boyfriend I adored and a girlfriend I adored just as much, I was a champion, and if I won another fight, I’d have an opportunity to defend my crown. I lived in the greatest city in the world, and I did what I loved for money.

But I hadn’t seen my parents in years, my brother in twice as many years, and my attempts to find work in the off season had proven largely fruitless. And I… I was getting better, but there was still a part of me that I really didn’t like. A version of myself who was stubborn and cowardly and more than a little stupid.

I didn’t just want to do better. I wanted to BE BETTER.

“Zeke, am I a good person?” I asked, pulling my face free of his chest.

“Yeah, of course you are,” he said.

Didn’t even hesitate. But then again, he wouldn’t. He’d only ever seen me through rose-colored glasses. What would happen as we went further in this relationship, and he saw more of me, the parts I didn’t like? Would he still feel the same way?

Would Kate still feel the same way?

“Thanks,” I said weakly.

“You don’t seem convinced,” Zeke said.

“I… Yeah, I dunno. Maybe that’s one of those things you can’t really hear from other people. You have to come to the realization on your own, or it doesn’t take?”

“Isn’t that what you said about being trans? You know, the whole ‘Prime DirEggtive’ thing?”

“Heh. Yeah. I guess it is kinda like that,” I said. I kissed him on the cheek, then sat up. “C’mon, that’s enough ruminating for one morning. I believe that it’s your turn to make breakfast, up and at ‘em, big guy.”

I swung my legs off the mattress and climbed out of bed.

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckled. “Happy to be of service.” Then he reached over and smacked me on the ass.

“Eeep!” I squealed. “What was that?”

“Think of it as a tip. For the service.”

“Hm, I see,” I said, mincing across the room, showing off my bare legs, only a barely-buttoned pajama top covering my chest. “Well, I require a tip of my own.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because I’ll be cleaning while you cook,” I said.

“You raise a good point,” he said, sitting up, brushing his dark curls out of his eyes. “And what tip may I provide you with?”

“Cook naked,” I smirked.

“I think I can arrange that,” he smiled, before pulling the covers off of his body and climbing out of his bed. “I’m already dressed for the part.”

“Indeed you are,” I said, drinking in the sight, calming myself down by satisfying my thirst.

Zeke ambled into the kitchen while I traded in my pajama top for a sports bra, a baggy t-shirt, a pair of basketball shorts, and a Pride-colored LA Dodgers cap. I tied my hair into a ponytail and set to work scrubbing the toilet and sink and shower while Zeke put some Lupe Fiasco on our speakers and started frying sausage and potatoes together on the skillet.

All was going well, the exercise-induced endorphins and gender euphoria I got off of cleaning helping to clear my head. And then our doorbell sang out.

“Babe, what time is Kate coming over today?” I said, stepping out of the bathroom and wiping my face off with a damp wad of paper towels.

“Not until she gets off work. Which should be, uh… Ten minutes ago, actually.”

“Cool!” I said, “shame she has to see me all sweaty-”

“So take a shower, I don’t think she’ll mind,” Zeke laughed.

“Pfft, good point,” I said. “Though the blushing virgin’s mind might get blown by all that.”

“Heh. Blown,” Zeke chuckled.

My heart sang. I reached for the doorknob and turned it…

And the other side was my older brother and parents.

“Surprise!” Mom and Dad said at the same time while DJ’s eyes bulged as he looked over my head, at, presumably, Zeke’s bare ass.

“What the hell,” my brother said.

That was when Mom and Dad both blinked and registered my naked boyfriend in the kitchen.

Zeke turned around and yelped, “Oh God!” He ran off into the bedroom shortly thereafter.

“What the hell indeed,” Dad said.

“I can explain,” I said weakly, anxiety and shame slamming into me once more, a tidal wave of dread and mortification that swept me up and threatened to drown me.

A few moments of silence went by. It really didn’t help that Dad and DJ were both in their dress uniforms, while Mom was wearing a skirt suit that made her look like some sort of rich businesswoman. She was wearing diamond earrings- I didn’t even know she owned diamond earrings. “Well?” Mom said.

I sighed heavily. “Please come in.”

Why. Does. This. Keep. HAPPENING. TO. ME?!!!

They followed me inside, at which point Zeke came back out in a pair of jeans and a button down shirt he’d neglected to tuck in. “Colonel Watanabe. Mrs. Watanabe. Nice to see you. And, uh… Is it Major Watanabe?”
DJ nodded, clearly unimpressed.

“Nice to finally meet you. Faith told me so much about you-”

“I doubt that. She and I have never been exceptionally close,” DJ said. Well, some things don’t change, and my brother’s brutal absence of tact was apparently one of them.

“You, um… You surprised me,” I said, scratching the back of my head. “I was, uh, cleaning.”

“And I was making breakfast,” Zeke said.

“Do you often do that while naked?” Dad asked.

“No,” Zeke said awkwardly.

“No, what?”

“... No, sir?”

“Better,” Dad said.

AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH- “Okay, look- let’s just deal with the proverbial elephant in the room. Zeke and I are together now. Okay? I know this is probably a surprise to you-”

“Not really,” DJ said.

“It’s not?” Mom said. “I thought you were gay, Faith.”

“I did too,” Dad said.

“All I know is that you’ve lived with the same guy for years and according to Dad he’s all you talk about,” DJ shrugged.

“How long has this been going on?” Mom asked.

“About a week,” Zeke said, then hastily added, “Ma’am.”

“You don’t have to call me that, Zeke,” Mom said with a gentle smile. “I’m a civilian. You can just call me Mrs. Watanabe.”

“You still have to call me sir,” Dad said.

“Same with me,” DJ added.

“Right. Sirs,” Zeke said. “So, uh, what brings you to the City of Angels?”

“We knew Faith’s final match of the regular season was tonight, so we decided to surprise our daughter who we hadn’t seen in a while. If you make it to the playoffs, we’ll probably stick around a bit longer,” Dad said.

“I’m on leave for a few weeks so I figured I’d come too,” DJ shrugged. He looked like he was struggling to hold back a tidal wave of raucous laughter at the sheer uncomfortableness of the situation. “Aren’t you going to offer me something to eat or drink, Mr. Underhill? Where’s your sense of decorum?”

I swear I heard Zeke groan under his breath. If I hadn’t been all sweat and gross, I’d have sat down next to him and squeezed his hand. Instead, I simply said, “What would you guys like? Zeke already made some hash, and there’s coffee in the percolator-”

“I asked your young man, Faith,” DJ said.

Zeke stood up. “Coffee? Water? Something to eat? I, uh, know how to make mimosas because I used to have to make them for my mom growing up, but I think I got rid of all the booze already-”

“Coffee is fine,” Mom said, putting a hand on Dad’s knee. And just like that, I saw my father relax by a very small margin. He was still staring at Zeke with an uncomfortable intensity, but he looked at least one percent less homicidal.

Zeke rushed upwards and began assembling a makeshift collection of coffees. I, meanwhile, stood still as a statue while holding my breath. Oh God, they were disappointed, they were freaked out, they hated this, I was letting them down again by boning my roommate and not telling them until I was literally forced to! Goddammit sh*t- okay, no, breathe. Breathe. You can salvage this. You just have to put all your cards on the table right this second and if you are LUCKY they won’t think you’re a lying liar who lies to her own family and Dad will stop looking at Zeke like he wants to sic a black ops team on him.

I breathed a very deep breath and said, “Okay, um… There’s one other thing you should probably know about.”

“Oh yeah?” DJ smirked. “And what’s that?”

“You see-”

The door shot open with a quick push, and my beautiful goober of a girlfriend of course came rushing through, looking like twenty million dollars in a red house dress with white stripes and a ring pearls around her neck. “Hey, cuties! Don’t worry about putting clothes on, I don’t mind this… Time…”

Kate blinked rapidly as my family met her gaze. Zeke, carrying four coffees on a tray, sighed and groaned simultaneously. “Um… Hello.”

“Hi,” DJ said. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m-”

I buried my face in my hands, parted the fingers and mumbled, “I can explain.”

***

“A polycule?” Dad said.

“A polycule?” DJ laughed.

“I’ve never even heard the term before,” Mom said. “We used to just call them swingers. So… You and this Kate girl, you’re sharing Zeke?”

“No, no it’s more like we’re all dating each other,” I said.

Zeke and Kate had gone out to get doughnuts for everyone, at my request. This conversation was going to be a lot easier for me alone. The family had given me a few minutes to wash my face and put on people-clothes, and they sat down on the living room couch while I stood in front of them and explained my deviancy to my star-spangled parents and brother.

“That’s… Very unusual,” DJ said.

“Yes, it is,” Dad said.

“That Kate girl… She looks awfully familiar,” Mom said.

“That’s… Probably because you’ve seen her on tv. She used to go by Keith. Keith Calloway.”

“From the tournament?” Mom said. “Don’t you two hate each other?”

“We did,” I gulped. “Then I came out. Then she came out. Then we started getting to know each other and… Things escalated.”

“I’d certainly say so,” DJ snickered.

“Don’t start with me,” I snapped.

“Hey now-”

“No, seriously,” I said. “I can take this from Mom and Dad, but as you yourself said, we’ve never been that close, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t judge me on my lifestyle.”

He held up his palms flat. “Fair enough. Sorry to judge.”

“Faith,” Mom said. “We’re just a little taken aback by all this. You’ve always been… A bit different from other people-”

Oh God, here it comes.

“-A bit on the strange side, to be sure-”

There it is.

“-But we never expected you to do something so… Unorthodox. Even after you… You…”

There it f*cking is. Guilt lanced my chest, sharp prongs tearing through my resolve. Screw it, time to be direct about this. “Are you disappointed in me?”

Mom blinked, and her jaw dropped. “I… I…”

Don’t know how to answer that question. Duly noted.

“We’re disappointed you didn’t tell us,” Dad said. “It’s like how you knew you were trans for years but didn’t tell us-”

“I didn’t tell anyone,” I protested. “It wasn’t personal.”

“Is this?” Dad asked. “Was you not telling us about this personal?”

Then it was my turn to blink.

“Just be honest with us, Faith,” Dad said. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted from you. Honesty. Please.”

“... Yes,” I said, surprising myself. “It was personal. I was scared of how you two specifically would react, so I was putting off telling you.”

“When were you going to tell us, then?”

“... Probably after I won another championship,” I said, running my bare feet across the floor in a horizontal line.

All three of them looked at me in a way that made me feel even more ashamed than I already was. I tried to think- what would Kate or Zeke do in this situation?

Kate would stand her ground. Zeke would be honest. They’d both try to do the right thing.

“Look, guys,” I said, “I know I should have told you about this. About a lot of things. But this is ultimately my life, and I can live it how I want. With who I want. And I’m financially independent-”

Dad said, “That’s not entirely accurate, Faith. We’ve had to float you money on numerous occasions in the past year.”

“... Okay, fair enough. But I’m working on it. You know I am. And I really think if you got to know Kate and Zeke you might see what I see in them. They make me really happy- isn’t that good enough for you?”

“... Of course it is,” Dad sighed. “It just… I worry about you, out here, doing what you do, being… Who you are.”

“And I know that, and I appreciate that,” I said, stepping forward and putting a hand on Dad’s shoulder. He flinched- I don’t think I’d ever done something like that before. “But I’d also really appreciate it if you would trust me. Trust that you raised me to look after myself.”

Dad sighed lightly. “Okay.”

“Okay?” I said, smiling hopefully.

“Okay,” Dad repeated while Mom nodded.

I looked at DJ, who said, “I mean I don’t really think I get a say, I was mostly just messing you.”

I squinted. “Seriously?”

“It’s my God-given right as your big brother,” he smiled.

I flicked his forehead. “Jerk.”

Then I extended my arms and pulled all three of them into a group hug. I felt them all go rigid with shock- I’d never been the huggy type growing up. Honestly, we’d never been a very huggy family, all things considered. But… Things had changed. I had changed. For the better. And I had Katie and Zeke to thank for that.

***

My heart nearly stopped beating while Mom and Dad looked over Dai Gurren. Somehow, this was more nerve-wracking than them walking in on my boyfriend making hash browns while naked. The three of us stood in front of the bot, inside the garage while Kate and Zeke clung to the back desperately trying to avoid getting caught up in my parents’ wake.

“Hmmm,” Dad said. “Interesting design choices.”

“Interesting how?” I asked, barely able to squeak out the words. Please don’t say you hate it, please don’t say you hate it, please don’t say you-

“I don’t hate it,” Dad said. “But I don’t love it, either.”

f*ck.

“It’s certainly ambitious,” Mom said, walking around it and examining it from all sides. “Show me the picture of the robot you’re fighting tonight?”

I pulled up a photo of Jolly Roger from google images and handed the phone to my mom. “Hmm,” she said. “Okay, I think I see what you’re going for. Though I’m worried about balance- you have a lot of weight on the front and I’m afraid you might wind up falling on your face, so to speak. Who’s idea was it to use this many drills?”

“Uh, it was my idea, ma’am,” Kate shouted from the back of the garage, tentatively raising her hand. “Zeke also contributed to the concept.”

Please lower your hand, Kate, I thought.

“Please lower your hand, Kate,” Zeke muttered. Heh.

Kate lowered her hand.

“I see,” Mom said. “Ms. Calloway-”

“Please just call me Kate. Or Katherine.”

“Ms. Calloway,” Mom reiterated. “May I ask where you studied?”

Kate went stiff as a board. “Uh… CSU.”

“CSU?”

“Cal State,” Kate said, looking at the floor. “Northridge.”

“I see,” Mom repeated. “And you did graduate, yes?”

Oh, Goddammit.

“Yes, ma’am,” Kate said.

“Kate is a good engineer,” I said firmly.

“I never said she wasn’t,” Mom said.

“She’s also the best bot driver I’ve ever known.”

“That’s what you said about Olivia,” Dad said.

“She’s better than Olivia.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Kate said.

“Take the compliment, babe,” I said, not looking back at her.

“Oh… Okay,” she said nervously.

“Fair enough,” Mom said. “I just hope you’re thinking things through when you listen to her advice. I know you’re dating her, but you’re also in competition with her.”

I flinched. That idea had been on my mind lately, and I’d been avoiding thinking about it… But the ideal situation was that Kate and Zeke and I all made it to the tournament, at which point there was a real chance of our rematch. My hands trembled, and I closed my eyes and choked out, “Look. You two are the best engineers I’ve ever met, and yeah, I’m biased because you’re my parents. But I still trust your judgment, just like you’re supposed to be trusting mine. Do you think this design will work against Jolly Roger, in your expert opinion?”

“I think so,” Dad said, squatting low and inspecting the installation work on the faceplate.

“You mean it?” I said, his words a mild balm to the wound of my anxiety.

“Yeah,” Dad said. “Like your mom said, there’s the balance issue to be concerned about, but given that you’re expecting to lose at least one of these drills during the course of the fight, it will hopefully make that less of a problem. My dear, what do you think?”

“I think it’s workable, though it’s not how I would have done this,” Mom said.

I winced. “I know. But it’s how I’m doing it.”

Mom looked at me, long and hard, then at Dad, then at Kate and Zeke, before she finally sighed and said, “Then it’s good enough for me.”

The anxiety decreased in intensity, little by little. Maybe if it kept going like this, I wouldn’t be having a panic attack right before the fight.

***

I started having a panic attack right before the fight.

Zeke and I were in the pits, and I could feel it coming on, but I couldn’t do anything to stop it. Ice cold fear, biting at my chest and stomach, cranking up my pulse and freezing out rational thought. I stood in front of DG, opening and closing my hands. My parents were in the audience tonight. My parents and my brother. And they were trying, yes, and they wanted to be better than they’d been, yes, but they also at their core had tendencies towards being hyper-critical and judgemental, more than a bit condescending, and prone to getting hung up on what could go wrong.

All of which were tendencies I’d inherited. So that certainly didn’t help.

I blinked and realized Zeke was waving his hand in front of my face. “Hey. You still with us?” he asked, conjuring up that dorky, winning smile.

“Yeah,” I said, trying to muster up a smile of my own. “Just, uh, got lost a second. Where’s Katie?”

“Getting interrogated by your brother,” Zeke said.

“What?!”

“Kidding!” Zeke said with an awkward laugh. “Kidding. She’s running late, is all.”

“Don’t joke about that, please,” I said, scrunching my brow and poking his chest.

Zeke grabbed my hand and gave me a twirl, and we waltzed a few rounds. The ice in my chest started to melt, fear and dread slowly evaporating with each step. Amazing. He hadn’t said anything, he’d just gone for it, and… It made me feel better right away. Seen. Heard. Taken care of.

Loved.

My eyes bulged (heh, bulge) wide when that last word sounded inside my mind. I tried to push it away- it was too soon for that, we’d only been together a very short time, even if we’d been friends for years. I didn’t LOVE Zeke…

… Did I?

I breathed in through my nose and concentrated on dancing, letting each step calm me further. Whatever words I wanted to apply to it, at the very least, Zeke made me feel very, very good, and that was what was important.

Zeke cupped my chin and leaned in for a kiss, which I lovingly (don’t read into it) returned. “Better,” he smiled, his lips barely parted from mine.

“A bit,” I smiled.

“Alright then,” he said. “Let’s do this thing.”

***

“AND IN THE RED SQUARE! THIS SHIP HAS SAILED THE SEVEN SEAS! IT’LL TAKE YOU AN WORLDWIDE VOYAGE AND SINK TO POSEIDON’S DEPTHS! THESE LADIES WILL MAKE YOU WALK THE PLANT AND BURY YOU WHERE X MARKS THE SPOT! IT’S… JOLLY ROGER!!!!”

Nia Westfield and Lenora Li stood at attention is their sailor uniforms alongside their additional three crewmates: Sasha Cunninghma, a statuesque blonde with guns of steel; Georgia Wilder, a medium-height black woman with long braids and longer legs; and Vera Quincy, a lean and short redhead with close-cropped hair. They were stoic pictures of feminine strength, and I was both very turned on by them and very afraid of them at the same time.

We wheeled our bots in the box, and when we heard the ‘Robots! Activate!’ recording play, I punched the button and drove DG directly towards the enemy.

Perhaps as a show of respect, JR did the same with us.

We collided at the exact middle of the box. Drill met drill.

Drill shattered drill.

Our centerpiece drill was destroyed immediately, but so was their primary weapon. And we still had five more, all of which were penetrating the ship’s bow. I pushed DG forward against the massive weight of JR. JR shoved us around with its superior mass, but it just pushed our drills deeper and deeper in until cracks began to form in the wooden shell. Gurren chipped away at the enemies’ wheels while DG was shoved into the screws even as we shattered the wooden shell entirely and started digging into the metal interior. The screws, however, whittled away at us.

“TEN SECONDS HAVE GONE BY- JOLLY ROGERHAS GOT TO LET DAI GURREN GO!” Derek yelled.

“I DON’T KNOW IF SHE PHYSICALLY CAN, DEREK!” Marty countered.

Indeed, she couldn’t. JR wheeled us out, and I tried to backtrack and get free, but we were stuck.

Well, most of us, anyway. Gurren was busy taking out JR’s back tires. One was successfully destroyed, that just left the other one-

Only for JR to keep wheeling back and crush G under its weight.

“No!” Zeke cried out as the minibot was broken beneath the battleship, a sickening crunch as the wheels popped off and the smaller parts were flattened.

Up to me, then.

Everyone was watching. My parents. My brother. My partners. The whole damn professional robot fighting community. With my shaking hands, I pushed forward. I breathed into it, and remembered what I was doing this for: love. Of my family. Of my relationships. Of engineering, and of this sport. It was a big word, a scary word, but… I was ready for it.

I was ready to love myself.

And I was ready to f*cking win.

I applied maximum velocity and drilled and drilled and drilled, only for JR to start turning and shaking. A metallic snapping sound shot out, and DG’s faceplate was torn off in a violent tug.

“OH HELL NO! DAI GURREN HAS BEEN DE-FACED!” Marty cackled.

sh*t. sh*t sh*t sh*t that was bad sh*t sh*t sh*t-

Wait a second.

The faceplate was still drilled into the front of JR. The pirate ship’s weight was totally out of balance. And it was missing its back-left wheel. It could only go back-right.

This would be tricky. Desperate. Probably wouldn’t work. But I needed to do this if I wanted to go to the playoffs. And I wasn’t doing it for my parents- at that moment, I didn’t care about living up to their expectations. I was doing it for me, and for Zeke, and hell, even for Katie. I wanted to prove her right.

I did a lap around the box, letting JR position itself towards me. It was clearly planning on ramming me into the screws again. It was near the exact center of the battle box, just as the kill-saws were sprouting up. I found the appropriate angle, forty-five degrees on their right hand side, and floored it. I slammed into the side of the ship, at a small patch of exposed metal not taken up by my faceplate, kept going even upon impact.

The ship tipped.

Slowly, slowly, it tipped over, and landed on its back, directly onto the kill-saws.

Its mast was devoured by the saws, and it was left on its side by the opposing force, unable to move. I didn’t give them a courtesy shove. I just started crying tears of relief as the countdown went by and my victory was announced.

And just like that, I’d done it. I was going to the playoffs. Zeke looked too stunned to move, but I took him by the hand and guided both our respective index fingers towards a face in the crowd. Not to my family, as happy as I was not to have embarrassed myself in front of them. But to Katie. We both pointed, and then I drew my hand back and blew Katie a kiss. And Zeke did the same.

Chapter 24

Chapter Text

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read three chapters ahead on this story, two chapters ahead on "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", and the entirety of "A Dream of Summer Rain," by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

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And now, back to our regularly scheduled nerdy romcom shenanigans!

***

Kate

“You ready?” Zeke said, rubbing my shoulders while I was hunched over Poly, tightening the screws that held the wheels in place via power drill.

“I think so,” I said, his strong hands taking the tension out of my shoulders. The CONSIDERABLE amounts of tension.

“Good,” Faith said, squatting on the other side of the bot. They were both still giddy from their victory, while mine was…

I breathed in deep through my nose. I could do this. It was within my power. It was just that I had a lot riding on this- my potential title run, my sponsorship, my pride.

My pride. My freaking pride. I’d spent so damn long prioritizing that over everything else, and just when I’d finally started to have things to be proud of, I was at risk of completely losing it. It made sense- it’s easy to be unafraid when you’ve nothing to lose, nothing to show for yourself, just hollow bluster you can laugh off when you fall on your face.

Now, though… I’d be letting a lot more people than myself down if I lost.

“Hey, uh, just a heads up,” Faith said, poking my nose, forcing me to look up from my machine, finally. “My parents want to take us all to dinner after the fight.”

“Oh. Well, that’s nice of them-”

“And they want your parents to come, too.”

I wanted to blink, but I couldn’t make it happen, as if the concept of doing so had just become incredibly abstract. “What.”

“They-”

“No, I heard you, I just… Why?”

“They want to see what kind of family you’re from,” Faith said.

“Do you tell them my parents are nerdy hippies?”

“I tried to, but that just made them more keen to make it happen,” Faith said.

“I don’t know if I’m crazy about this,” I said, standing up and wringing my hands together furiously.

“Well, they just texted me a second ago that they found your folks in the audience already-”

“But how do they even know what they look like?”

“Social media, babe,” Faith said. “Your mom has pictures of herself and your dad up on your store’s accounts.”

“Oh, right,” I said. I breathed in, breathed out, breathed in, breathed out, breathe in-

I felt two hands cup my cheeks and looked up at Zeke, standing there like a monument of strength and stability. “Don’t worry about it yet,” he said. “That moment you’re worrying about, it hasn’t happened yet. Will it happen? Maybe. But that’s not right now, not right this second. Right now, you’re here, and you’re gonna kick ass, because you’re f*cking brilliant, and your bot is brilliant.”

“There’s just so much pressure-”

“And I still believe in you,” he said, pulling me closer, propping my body against his chest, whispering into my ear. “And so does Faith. Even if it ends here, we know you’ll go down swinging. So don’t worry about what’s ten paces ahead of you. Just take it one step at a time.”

I felt Faith’s tiny frame wrap around me from behind, completely the group hug. I felt both their hearts beating slower than mine, but I breathed, and my pulse steadied until it was synched up with theirs.

I gulped, and I smiled, and I kissed both of them. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

***

Team Forest Fire loomed large- very large, and very buff, and very, distractingly hot- in the box next to me, all clad in firemen’s wear. I recalled my mother’s warning about the man-candy and attempted to focused, even as Lance Masterson, Jake George, and Evan Hernandez all waved at me. I gulped, and attempted to think about something else. Anything else. Literally anything else whatsoever.

The only other thing that could come to me was the impending panic attack from the possibility that I could lose this and my season would be over and I’d lose my sponsor and be shunted back to the bottom of my career-

No, no, stop that. Stop that right now. Zeke and Faith believe in you, and Mom and Dad believe in you, and Nadine believes in you, and Gaines wants to believe in you on some cyica level. YOU need to believe in you. Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. Just have to do my best. It was all I could do.

“ROBOTS! ACTIVATE!”

And just like that, the anxiety cleared out of my brain. As if a lightswitch had been flipped, and I was suddenly in work-mode, and nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed. Just the robots, and the fight.

I took a deep breath, and I charged straight for FF. They opted for an identical strategy, right up until the point where I pivoted left. I narrowly avoided the downward swing of their ax, and instead the blade collided with the arena floor. This caused FF to get knocked into the air by the backlash of the impact, and I seized the opportunity by turning a hundred and eighty degrees and slashing its back-left tire as it landed.

I cleared out and made them chase after me, wobbling and unbalanced with their injured robot. The tire I’d slashed came tumbling off, and I banked right towards the rotating screws and waited. If I could time this just right, they’d lose their ax to the screws and be without a weapon.

I waited. They charged.

I dodged.

Their ax landed on the rotating screws and TORE THEM OFF OF THE FREAKING HINGES HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!

“HOLY MOLY! LOOKS LIKE THE CLEANUP CREW IS GONNA HAVE TO INSTALL NEW SCREWS!” Marty howled.

And the worst part? Their ax was just fine.

I went on the offensive before they could finish turning around, aiming for their back-right tire. Had to take away their mobility. I positioned myself at just the right angle, only for Evan Hernandez to scream, “Bring it on!”

FF turned around and buried its ax in the back of Poly, but not quickly enough to avoid a stab directly to the face.

“OH NO! DO WE GOT A MURDER-SUICIDE ON OUR HANDS?!” Derek shouted.

I grunted as I swung the reverse button on my control pad, FF removing its ax from my robot’s head and pulling back itself. Smoking.

Or was Poly smoking?

Oh, no. They were BOTH smoking.

And then they both burst into flames.

We untangled ourselves from each other, our weapons intact but our engines burning. I didn’t let up, though. I slammed the forward button and rammed them again, cutting up their front-left tire before making a speedy retreat.

“Both of these bots are on fire, looks like somebody needs to call the fire department!” Derek said, only slightly calmer than usual. “Seriously, though- maybe somebody should get an extinguisher?”

They chased after me, both of us going slower than usual thanks to our engines basically being fireplaces. The kill-saws went up, and I managed to avoid them as FF swung down with its ax and shattered one of the saws. God, that thing was powerful.

But the recoil worked against them once more, shooting them a few inches into the air and landing them on the ground with a thud that must have shook some oil loose and prompted their fire to triple in size.

“OH THE HUMANITY!” Marty screamed.

I tried to keep moving, but Poly was getting slower, and slower, and slower.

But FF wasn’t moving at all.

“10! 9! 8!” the countdown started.

Just had to keep moving until the countdown ended. Just keep moving. Keep moving.

“4! 3! 2! 1!”

“Oh thank God,” I whispered as the crowd began to cheer.

I almost expected the anxiety to slam back into me again, but it didn’t come. There was only relief, and joy, and…

Pride.

I was proud of myself. And I think I’d earned it, for once.

I did a simple curtsy once more, and the crowd cheered and whistled and clapped for me. They… Liked me. They liked the new me. By the sound of it, they liked the new me just as much as the old one, if not more.

The members of Team FF all came up to hug me, and I tried not to let myself enjoy it too much. As the trio of hunks pulled away from me, though, I saw my parents and Faith’s parents sitting together in the crowd, and then, finally, the anxiety came rushing back and my stomach practically fell out of my body.

The easy part of the night was over. Now for the hard part.

Chapter 25

Chapter Text

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read three chapters ahead on this story, two chapters ahead on "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", and the entirety of "A Dream of Summer Rain," by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

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And now, back to our regularly scheduled nerdy romcom shenanigans!

***

Zeke

Having dinner with your girlfriend’s parents is one thing. Having dinner with both your girlfriends’ respective families at the same time is another thing altogether. I sat at the middle of a long, rectangular wooden table in an Italian restaurant, back to the wall, Katie on my left, Faith on my right, DJ across from me with the most infuriatingly smug grin I’ve seen since the time my dad somehow convinced my mom he’d bought and sold an Arabian Thoroughbred and that was where he’d gotten that duffel bag full of unmarked hundred dollar bills (long story involving one of his mistresses thinking he was a gigolo). Faith’s parents sat on the far-right end of the table, Kate’s on the left.

I was in hell.

Though, in fairness, my girlfriends were right there with me.

“I’m just saying, he was a better president than people give him credit for,” David said.

“You would think that,” Col. Watanabe replied.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Miranda said, taking a sip from her wine glass.

“You sure you don’t want something to drink?” Kate said, running her finger over the short, square glass full of Irish whisky sitting in front of her, next to a plate full of garlic knots and marinara sauce.

“I’m beginning to reconsider it,” I muttered.

Mrs. Watanabe said, “I think what my husband is getting at is that someone from your… Background would generally predisposed to-’

“And what background is that?” David said.

“Aaaaah!” Faith shrieked.

The entirety of the restaurant, a very crowded restaurant with an outdoor seating area on a stone patio, went quiet and looked at us.

“Faith, you’re making a scene,” her mother chastised her.

“I’m making a scene?! Me?!” Faith said. “You guys were yelling so loud they could hear you over in Orange County!”

“And I’m pretty sure they heard your shriek all the way down in San Diego, sis,” DJ said, sipping his red wine gingerly.

“Can we just please not do this?!” Faith said. “Can we talk about literally anything else BESIDES politics?! I am begging someone to change the subject!”

“I… Am open to suggestions,” David said as Miranda stroked his arm affectionately.

“... What would you like to talk about, daughter?” the Colonel asked.

“Um… I…,” Faith said. She gulped.

My phone buzzed at the same time as Kate’s and Faith’s. Oh, thank God. “Well, it looks like we’re going to the tournament!” I said. “We’re in the red bracket, Faith.”

“I’m in blue,” Kate said. “My fight for the opening round is against… Pendulum. Oh, boy.”

“Ours is… Sparky-Sparky-Boom,” Faith said. “That’s… Also pretty concerning.”

It was. Pendulum was… Well, Pendulum. We may have beaten it by an inch but it was still a behemoth. And SSB… God, the Portman’s pissed me off.

“So, what’s the format for all this? How does this tournament work?” DJ asked.

“Pretty standard stuff- 8 finalists, three rounds, single elimination,” I said.

“I was asking my sister, but okay, big guy, talk for her,” DJ said.

“Don’t start,” Faith said, pleading.

“Look, I’m just saying, sis, you should really take more credit. I’m not even sure what your boyfriend here does-”

“He pilots our minibot and serves as our mechanic,” Faith said.

“But you pilot the main robot, and you built it yourself,” DJ said.

“Yes, but it’s a team effort.”

“Doesn’t always look that way,” Mrs. Watanabe said.

“Okay, that’s a little excessive, you both,” Miranda said.

“Exactly. Zeke works very hard. From what Kate tells me, he’s instrumental to his team’s efforts,” David said.

The anger and shame sitting in my chest grew a little lighter. DJ and Mrs. Watanabe hit close to home, but at least some people were willing to defend me.

“And besides, he’s a very good boyfriend,” Kate said, putting her arm around me.

“Yeah,” Faith agreed, putting her arm around me as well. “To both of us!”

“Thanks, girls,” I said, the ugly feelings growing lighter still.

Miranda had an expression on her face that was impossible to read as anything other than a silent ‘awwww.’ David nodded in approval, while Mrs. and Mr. Watanabe exchanged silent glances and slight nods. Good, maybe if I was really lucky they wouldn’t openly object to their daughter dating Kate and I. It wasn’t that I needed their approval, it was just that I had a feeling this would all be a helluva lot easier if I had it.

“So good one girl isn’t enough for him, apparently,” DJ said.

My eyes bulged while the rest of the table went silent. “Excuse you?”

“I said what I said,” DJ replied. He looked at his sister and said, “Look, if you really think this is a good idea, you’re an adult… Sort of… And I can’t stop you. But I can tell you to your face that a guy who does something like this is probably gonna cheat on you at some point. On both of you two.”

Faith growled and Kate slammed a fist on the table. “Do NOT talk to him like that!” they said simultaneously.

“Seriously, son, that was incredibly uncalled for,” Col. Watanabe said. “This relationship they have is certainly unconventional, but as Faith’s family we owe her our unconditional love and support in her endeavors.”

“Love, yes,” DJ said. “Support? Debatable.”

“DJ, that’s enough,” Mrs. Watanabe said.

“Seriously, young man,” David said, “You should watch your tongue. I find it hard to believe a mouth like that takes you far in the service.”

“And what would you know about a thing like that, Mr. Calloway?” DJ said.

I glared at him. “Shut. Up,” I said, barely keeping the rage from my voice.

“You do a lot of speaking for other people. Do you ever speak for yourself?” DJ said, locking eyes with me.

“When it’s necessary,” I said. “I’d like an apology now.”

“For what?”

“For suggesting that I would ever cheat. That I could ever be-”

“Zeke? ZEKE! My boy! My son, how you doing?!” a voice called out from behind me.

Oh.

Oh f*ck.

I cringed as I turned and saw my father walking- more like stumbling- towards our table. I knew he came here sometimes- I found out about this place from the time he made me wait in the parking lot while he had dinner with one of his mistresses- but tonight? Seriously, TONIGHT?! OF ALL f*ckING NIGHTS ARE YOU f*ckING KIDDING ME GOD f*ckING DAMMIT SON OF MOTHERf*ckING f*ck!

Next to me, my girlfriends put their arms over me like protective shielding, but I pushed them away and stood up, fists balled.

“Um, who’s this?” David asked.

My dad opened his mouth. “I’m-”

“Trash,” I finished for him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him away from the table. “I should take it out. Be right back. Kate, if the waiter comes, order for me what I ordered last time we were here.”

“Uh… Okay,” Kate said. “You sure you don’t want backup?”

I didn’t respond. I just focused on hauling my idiot father out of the restaurant and into the parking lot.

“Seriously, Ezekiel, what do you think you’re doing here with all those respectable people,” Dad slurred as I led him into the crowded parking lot. The sun had almost finished setting, blue-black bannered across the horizon. It was time for something to come to a close.

I pinned my father against the wall of the restaurant. “Leave.”

“What the hell do you mean ‘leave?’ I have just as much right to be here as you do, boy,” Dad… Michael. This was not a man who’d earned the right to call himself a father. This was not a man. This was an overgrown boy. Someone who’d never grown up and learned how to spare a thought for anyone but himself. Had never had the slightest inkling how a man was supposed to treat his woman.

“I meant ‘leave me.’ As in ‘leave me alone.’ As in ‘never speak to me again,’” I said.

“What the- my own son-”

“You’ve never been a father, so as far as I’m concerned I’m not your son,” I said.

“Unbelievable,” Michael said. “You really are spoiled brat, you know that?”

“And you really are a scumbag. You know that?” I said, letting go of his lapel and stepping back. “You see me again? Look the other way. I don’t know you. And I don’t wanna know you. Same goes for that idiot you’re divorcing. I don’t want anything to do with either of you.”

He looked ready to throw hands, looming over me like some sort of drunk bridge troll. But the sun was set, so he wasn’t turning to stone any time soon. Not that it mattered- I wasn’t afraid of him anymore. “You’ve always thought you were better than me, but I see you in there, with those girls you’re balancing. We’re just the same, Ezekiel. The sooner you admit that to yourself, the better off you’ll be.”

“I’m nothing like you,” I said. “And I don’t have to explain myself. I get that you’re lonely in the dumpster with only the other trash for company, but I have no intention of climbing in with you. Ever. So go f*ck yourself.”

He spat at me. It hit me right in the face, the wet impact shocking me and stoking the fires of my rage ever-further. I wanted to beat his ass bloody, but instead I wiped my face and walked away, heading back towards the restaurant door.

I didn’t notice him charging until he’d tackled me, pinning me to the ground and screeching, raising a fist. My heart was a thunderstorm, my temper a wildfire. I had to get this bastard off of me before he could land a blow. I tried to squirm loose, but he had me pinned. The one thing Michael had always had on me was height, and even drunk out of his mind he could still press that advantage.

“You little sh*t. You little sh*t!” he screamed.

“Get off me you stupid bastard!” I screamed back.

That was when a kick flew above me and landed square in Michael’s ribs. It was followed by another kick, this one to Michael’s gut. He gasped for breath, desperately trying to recover the wind that had been knocked out of him.

David and Col. Watanabe stood above me. Watanabe pulled Michael off of me, and David delivered a swift hook punch to his jaw.

“You assholes!” Michael cried from his place on the ground. “I’ll sue!”

“With what money?” I said, pulling myself off the ground and dusting myself off. “You’re already getting eaten alive with the divorce proceedings. And I know you weren’t smart enough to get a prenup.”

“... Don’t expect to be able to come crying to me next time-”

“Just leave,” I said.

“Go home, little boy,” Col. Watanabe said. “We need to talk to Ezekiel, man to man.”

“He’s no man!”

“And you are?” David said.

Finally, Michael shoved his hands into his pockets and stormed away, grumbling the entire time.

“Thank you for helping me,” I said when Michael was finally out of eyeshot. “How much of that did you see?”

“See? Not much,” David said. “But we heard most of it. You and your father are awfully loud.”

“He’s not my father,” I said. “Or at least, I wish he wasn’t.”

“Fair enough,” Col. Watanabe said. “Regardless of what you call him, though… It takes a real man to be able to stand up to a brute like that. Especially when he’s got half your DNA.”

“And it takes a real man not to rise to every challenge he gets, especially from a petty bully like that sorry excuse for an adult,” David said.

“I’d like to apologize, Ezekiel,” Col. Watanabe said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“Just Zeke is fine, Colonel,” I said, smiling in spite of myself.

“Well then, Zeke, call me Darren,” he smiled.

“And as I’ve said before, call me David,” said Kate’s father, putting his own hand on my other shoulder.

“I misjudged you,” Darren said. “Both of you. I think what I’ve seen now says far more about your respective moral fibers than anything else I’ve seen. Zeke, my daughter is in good hands with you, I can tell. If you ever need advice, fatherly or otherwise, don’t hesitate to ask me.”

“Or me,” David said.

I breathed out, and found… Joy coming to me, unbidden, unabated. “Thank you,” I choked, “Thank you so much. Are, uh, the girls and DJ still inside the restaurant?”

“Oh yes, my wife and daughter are giving DJ an earful right now about proper decorum,” Darren said.

“And Kate and her mother were laughing their butts off at the whole thing, last I checked,” David said.

“Honestly, the boy needs it,” Darren laughed. It was the first time I’d ever seen that happen. It was surprisingly full-bodied and hearty. “I wasn’t there for him enough growing up, and he never listens to me because of it. So it’s really my fault, more than anything else. His stepmother, however… She’s usually able to get through to him.”

I chuckled. “And Faith can be pretty persuasive as well.”

“I’d certainly imagine so, given the… Arrangement you three have.”

“It was all her idea.”

“That sounds like her,” Darren said. “Always was an outside-the-box thinker. Come on. Let’s go back in.”

The two men, the two fathers, both clapped me on the back and guided me back into the restaurant, where DJ sat at the table sulking like a damn teenager while Mrs. Watanabe and Faith looked VERY pleased with themselves. Kate and her mom, meanwhile, were talking to a waiter and handing them our menus.

“Hey,” I said, taking my seat between my two girlfriends.God, what a lucky man I am.

“Hey,” they both said at once.

“You alright?” Faith asked.

“I think… Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I said, believing it when I said it for a change.

“You sure?” Kate asked.

I kissed her on the cheek, then Faith as well. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

DJ looked over at me. “I’m sorry for what I said. I don’t have any right to be as protective of Faith as I am, but I was speaking from a place of concern. I see now that… Those concerns were unfounded.”

I gave a weak laugh. “All is forgiven, Major.”

I extended a hand, and we shook across the table.

“I ordered for you,” Kate said. “And everyone else. I hope that’s okay. Everyone was just… Really preoccupied.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, sweetie,” Miranda said.

“I know, I just… I worry about keeping everyone happy.”

“Heh. I don’t think you have to worry about that, Katie,” I said, pulling her and Faith into my arms. “I’m the happiest man in the world.”

I held my glass of water. For a moment, I wanted a drink to celebrate, but… I didn’t need it. I wasn’t concerned about being like him, or like my mother, but… I just didn’t need it. I wouldn’t have changed a thing about that moment, not in a million years, and I didn’t want to blur the memories or dull what I was feeling. I was happy.

I raised my glass of water into the air. “To the tournament. And to family. And to love. Cheers, everyone.”

“Cheers!” they all cried out, raising their glasses into the air and clinking them together.

There were still problems on the horizon. My opening fight next week would be an uphill battle, and so would Kate’s. But for now, for tonight… Things were good.

Chapter 26

Chapter Text

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***

Kate

“I have an idea,” I said to Nadine. We were in the garage part of Gaines’ facilities, and we had the place to ourselves. Nothing but us, my robot, and the smell of oil and grease. I wore a simple, practical outfit that day- a pair of jeans and a buttoned-up pink flannel. It was almost staggering how many pink articles of clothing I’d acquired in the past month, but I wasn’t exactly complaining. It just… Made me happy. A way to signal who I was, who I was becoming and who I’d always been. Yeah, it was a stereotype, but I didn’t care. It was what I liked, and there was nothing wrong with it.

Nadine put her camera down. “Run it by me.”

“Cheerleader.”

“Go on.”

“That could be my gimmick.”

“Intriguing. Whose cheerleader?”

“My own, I guess,” I said. “What do you think?”

“Would you dress like one?”

“That would be the idea,” I said. “I don’t think I would start until next year tho- by then, my boobs will have grown a bit, hopefully.” I gestured to them, or to the lack of them, and managed to accidentally tap my chest…

… At which point, there was a small sting, a little bite of soreness.

They were coming. The hormones were working.

I could have cried, but instead, I danced.

Faith’s lessons had been paying off, and I found myself flailing around my robot with a slightly greater degree of coordination than I normally would have. Nadine started snapping her digital camera. “Good. Good. Keep doing that.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you might actually be able to pull this whole cheerleader angle off. I’d get a few more dance lessons first, though,” Nadine said.

“Okay, duly noted,” I said, giggling and brushing the hair out of my face. Really needed to do something about this. I’d scheduled a salon appointment for that day, though, so this would be less of an issue then.

Hopefully they’d be able to accomplish what I was asking them to do.

That was when Gaines stormed in, a hulking wall of muscle with a throbbing forehead vein and an utter dearth of chill. “Hi, ladies,” he grimaced. “How’s it going here?”

“Good,” I smiled.

His scowl deepened.

“Yes, boss?” Nadine asked. “Can I help you with something?”

“I’m only gonna ask this once: who’s idea was it have Ms. Calloway stand in front of a trans pride flag and post it on our social media with the caption ‘trans rights are human rights?’”

Nadine opened her mouth, but I cut her off. I couldn’t let her take the fall for me, not after she’d helped me so much. “It was my idea, sir.”

They both looked at me and blinked rapidly. “Was it, now?” Gaines asked. “Because I’ve lost a dozen members in the past week because they aren’t comfortable with our current direction.”

“That was always going to be a risk, sir,” I pointed out. “You knew what you were doing when you agreed to keep being my sponsor.”

Nadine looked ready to faint. I was pretty sure she’d stopped breathing. Couldn’t blame her- Gaines was fuming so hard he was sucking all the oxygen from the room. “I see. Well, I suppose that’s true. And I suppose it’s also my fault for not checking my own feed. But tell me- why should I keep sponsoring you if you’re going to keep doing something that will alienate potential clientele?”

I bunched my fists and clenched my jaw, but the anger flowed out of me just as soon as it came. I didn’t need it. There was only one thing I needed, and that was confidence in myself, in my abilities, in what I was doing and my ability to get it done. “Because I’m gonna win you a championship, Mr. Gaines.”

“Are you now?” Gaines said, co*cking (I could hear Faith laughing from however many miles she was from here) one of his massive gray-brown eyebrows.

I stood up straight, unclenched my fists, breathed in and out, and looked him square in the face. God, he was buff. He could crush me if he wanted to. Literally and metaphorically. But I knew people like him, how they thought, what they responded to: force. Strength. Grit. “Yes. And when I do, everyone will shut up. People will stop caring about whatever bias makes them not like me, and they’ll see a champion, plain and simple. And they’ll come to you to get the parts of a champion, to get their vehicle fixed up in a place where a champion built her robot.”

“Will they?”

“Yes. They will. People don’t care about you ‘represent’ if you’re winning. They only care that you’re winning. And I’m gonna win big this year. Sir.”

He squinted, pointed at me with his comically large index finger… And threw his head back and laughed. “Alright then, girly- if you say so. I like your gumption, I’ll give you that much. Here’s the arrangement, then- you bring me a championship trophy, and I’ll stick with you. I’ll even give you an increase on your stipend. But you come up even an inch short? You’re done. Find a new sponsor. Capiche?”

“Capiche,” I affirmed, extending a hand.

We shook, and I kept eye contact the entire time.

Finally, Gaines turned around. “Nadine?”

“Yes, boss?”

“Keep up the good work. Whatever you’ve done, you’ve done a fine job of it.”

“Uh… Thanks, sir,” Nadine said.

He was silent for the rest of his exit from the garage. A moment passed by before Nadine looked at me and said, “Are you crazy?!”

I shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

“I think I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t think you’re being in any way overconfident?”

“Oh, I’m being grossly overconfident,” I said. “But it was either that or lose my sponsor right before the tournament starts.”

“Fair enough. I just… I like working with you. You seem like a good person, and I don’t want to see you get cut loose.”

I smiled at her. “Thank you. I like working with you too. But, uh, one thing at a time, yeah?”

She smiled back. “Yeah. So, should we finish up this shoot?”

“Yes, please,” I said, throwing my hair back.

***

I stepped into the salon in Manhattan Beach, the peach and violet scents of shampoo and conditioner combining with gentle lights at the chairs and the warm hum of dryers. Seabreeze from the nearby ocean drifted in and cooled the place lovingly while offering its own calming aroma. A shapely Latina with dyed red hair wearing an orange knit-dress stepped forward over the black linoleum floor and said, “Hi! Are you Kate Calloway?”

“Yup! How’d you know?”

“I’m Ronda, your mother’s stylist. You look a lot like her.”

“Aw, thank you,” I said, trying very, very hard to maintain eye contact in spite of my own exhaustion. The encounter with Gaines had left me a lot more emotionally drained than I’d been expecting, but I wanted to be polite. Women came to salons and felt an overwhelming surge of sororal solidarity, so I wanted to feel that too. “Might be even more true after today.”

“Oh yeah, I got the picture you sent me,” Ronda said, guiding me into a chair with a wash bin behind it. “You sure you wanna go for it? You’ll have to come back tomorrow so we can finish it off, and it requires a ton of upkeep if you want to maintain it long term.”

“I know,” I said, sitting in the chair and leaning my head back into the basin. “And I want to go for it anyway.”

Ronda smiled at me with big, cherry-red painted lips. “Bold. You really are your mother’s daughter, aren’t you?”

“Hm. Well, I try to be.”

“Well then let’s get started,” Ronda said, turning on the faucet.

The warm water collided with my hair and scalp, and the stress and anxiety were immediately washed away. “Let’s.”

***

A day and a half later, after the sun had begun to set over the city of Angels, I rushed downstairs at the sound of our doorbell ringing. The long hem of my pastel pink, short-sleeved floral dress swayed around my freshly-shorn legs in a manner that made me giddy. A smile crept onto my perfectly painted face. I knew who was behind the door, and I couldn’t wait to see how they reacted to my new look.

I pulled the door open.

Zeke- in a black button-down tucked into his tight-fitting jeans, his hair messy and his stubble grown out into a slight but very sexy beard- and Faith- clad in casual white and blue sundress with a lovely little cleavage window parked up front- waited on the other side, and they both took one look at me and gasped.

It was exactly what I’d been hoping for. “Hi. What do you think?”

“You’re blonde,” Zeke said, eyes wide as saucers.

“Bleach blonde,” Faith said, blinking rapidly.

“Platinum blonde,” Zeke said, grinning appreciatively.

“Marilyn Monroe blonde,” Faith said, naked lust permeating her voice.

“Well, I was going more for Miranda Calloway blonde, but I’ll take it,” I smiled, playing with a loose strand of my platinum waves. “Do y’all like it?”

“I love it,” Zeke said instantly. “You look super hot. Not that you didn’t before, but-”

“This looks more like you,” Faith finished for him.

“Thank you,” I said, putting a hand over my chest, sending another shockwave through my tender breast bud. Ow. I’d have to get used to that.

“I just can’t believe you really went for it- that could have fried your hair!” Faith said.

“What’s life without a little risk?” I said, unable to keep my smile at bay. “Besides, I think it turned out well.”

“It did, it did, I just… God, you’re so cool,” Faith said, grabbing both my hands and pulling me close.

I blushed beat-red and gave her a peck on the lips. “No, you’re so cool.”

Faith gulped and scrunched her face in protest. “No, YOU’RE SO COOL-”

“This is very cute and all, but I can feel the cold air getting out of Kate’s place, so maybe we should head out,” Zeke chuckled.

“Sounds good,” I said. I turned back and shouted, “Mom! Dad! I’m heading out! I’ll be back late!”

“Have a nice time!” Mom called from upstairs.

And with that, and a kiss for both of my beloveds, we were off.

We drove all the way to Hollywood and found ourselves at a small bar with loud music playing. There weren’t too many patrons, so we had the dance floor to ourselves. And dance we did, with the display serving as my latest lesson. 2000s pop-punk music sounded all around us, and I let myself get lost in the sway of my hips and the feeling of Faith’s arms around me, of holding Zeke’s hands while he spun me around and dipped me, of slow dancing with all three of them.

I raised my phone up high when the three of us were all pressed together and said, “Smile!”

And they did, and I took the photo, and the memory was forever secured.

And then, shock of all shocks, I did something incredibly stupid: I posted it on social media. It seemed like a benign idea at the time. It really did.

***

The morning rush came into the shop like a flood the next day, an endless deluge of shoppers looking to get kitted out. I used the opportunity to work on my voice, to practice my gentler mannerisms and more gracious personality. The customers definitely noticed- I closed more sales that day than I had in ages. I got a few ‘sirs’, sure, but almost all of them apologized as soon as they said it, and the others did so after I corrected them.

All was going well, until the consequences of my reckless actions walked into the shop in the form of Olivia Root.

I did a double-take when I recognized her, clad in a dark red sundress that hugged her ample hips and equally ample bust, with hoop earrings dangling from her lobes, makeup immaculate, and natural hair long and bouncy. She was unaccompanied by her teammates, carrying only a canopy shoulder bag over her arm. She wandered around the shop, looking at different dresses, finally pulling a sleeveless turquoise number off of the rack and taking it into the changing room.

She stepped out, clad in the dress, looking even more stunning now than she had before. She walked up to me at the register, my parents both on the floor talking with other customers, leaving me alone with a woman I’d called out and challenged on live television.

Sometimes I look up at the sky and ask ‘Why, God? Why did you make me so f*cking stupid?’

At least now I could call myself a dumb blonde in earnest.

“I’d like to buy this dress,” Olivia said, looking at me plainly.

“Good choice,” I said, looking down at the register. “It looks nice on you.”

“And I’d like to have a word with you,” Olivia said.

“Whatever about?”

“Faith.”

“I don’t think she would like that.”

“Then work.”

“Well, I’m currently at work. This is one of my jobs, believe it or not, and I’m on the clock. And I already took my break an hour ago,” I said, furiously punching the keys on the cash register.

“Then after you clock out,” Olivia said.

I shook my head, still not looking up as I ran her card through the swiper. “That’s not for another hour. And you’ve already bought something, so you’ll have to buy more stuff. Otherwise you’re loitering. Which is a misdemeanor, for which you can be fined-”

Olivia sighed, very slightly. “There’s a coffee shop down the road- I’ll hang out there. Meet me inside when you’re off work. And thank you for the dress- it’s honestly quite lovely.”

“My mother made it,” I said, handing her a receipt.

“Well she’s very talented, then,” Olivia said. She took the receipt, and she turned around and left.

I spent the next hour locked into tunnel vision, trying desperately to focus on my work, on the swelling tide of customers that came without end. As the rush died down, however, my impending meeting became an all-consuming presence in my mind. I stood behind the front desk, drumming my fingers on the wooden surface, actively having to think about not biting my pink-polished fingernails.

I pulled my phone loose from my purse on the floor and typed out a furious message to my partners during a free moment: “SOS Olivia came in and she’s demanding to talk to me!”

Faith was the first to reply: “WUT!”

“She’s waiting at a coffee shop down the street for me once my shift ends.”

“You’re not gonna go, are you?”

“IDK.”

“Don’t. Go.”

Zeke chimed in: “maybe she should go.”

Faith: “No, that’s a terrible idea. Olivia will eat her alive.”

I said: “I’m not scared of her, you know.”

“I’m not saying you should be, I just can’t imagine what she even wants to speak with you about,” Faith replied.

I said, “Work. And you.”

Faith: “... I don’t like that.”

Zeke: “I don’t either.”

I typed, “I’m not crazy about it myself. But I think I should at least try to apologize.”

“For what?” Zeke asked.

“Calling her out like I did.”

Zeke: “That was just you playing the heel. And you’ve changed.”

“I don’t think she’s aware of that, y’all.”

“... Dammit. Kate’s right,” Faith said.

“I am?”

“Yes, you are. Olivia and I used to complain about you all the time last year. Like an ouroboros of self-indulgent bitching.”

“I don’t know what to do with that statement,” I typed.

“... I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I typed. “I’ve changed. And I’d like Olivia to see that.”

“... Text us the address?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I typed.

“I’m with Kate on this one,” Zeke replied. “Olivia might not accept Kate’s apology if we’re there. It might seem like we forced her to do it.”

“Good point,” Faith said. “Can we at least come over and wait on stand-by? And that way we can all hang out when you get back?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” I said.

“Please stop texting at work, Kate,” Dad said as he walked by carrying two massive cardboard boxes under his arms.

I blanched and put the phone back in my purse. “Right. Sorry.”

The remaining fifteen minutes before I clocked out lived and died a slow, painful demise. Finally, it was over, and it was time to have a talk with my girlfriend’s ex.

“Where you heading?” Dad asked as I slung my purse over my shoulder.

“Gonna meet a… Colleague,” I said, my voice going flat and deep. I winced as I heard it. “Is it alright if Zeke and Faith come over in a little bit?”

“Hm? Yeah, that’s fine,” Dad said. “We’re probably just gonna do pizza tonight, honestly. I assume you want your PB&J?”

“Yes please,” I smiled. “Just be sure to get a different one, too. Faith isn’t crazy about the spice.”

“Duly noted- she can share a barbeque chicken pie with your mother,” Dad said. “Also, are you alright?”

“Hm? Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just seem… A bit jittery today, Katie,” Dad said.

“I… Ask me that again later?” I said, standing in the front doorway.

“Okay,” Dad nodded. “Be safe.”

“I will be. Love you, Dad.”

“Love you too.”

He was right, though. There was something I’d been avoiding, something I hadn’t wanted to address but which I was becoming increasingly concerned would be an issue.

What would happen if I had to face Faith and Zeke in the battle box again?

As I walked down the street, the hot sun and cool seabreeze hitting me all at once, the question gnawed at my stomach lining. I loved being with both of them. And I liked being the person I was now: cute and blonde and happy and sweet and girly. I didn’t miss the guy I’d been: a posturing meathead who never shut up and had no concept of personal space or boundaries or any self-awareness whatsoever. And I didn’t think that having Faith and Zeke as my rivals last year had turned me into that person- I’d been that already, before we’d fought. But…

God, I didn’t want to backslide. I didn’t want to turn back into that guy. And now I was going to confront someone who had been at the epicenter of that guy’s last notable public appearance. Someone who thought I was still that person, who probably thought I was going to backslide at some point and hurt someone who she really cared about.

If I didn’t want to be Keith anymore, I had to prove it. To myself, first and foremost.

Breathing steady but heartbeat elevated, I moved forward. I had to do this. Had to do this. Had to prove it to Olivia. If I could prove it to her, I could finally prove it to myself.

I approached Hal’s Coffee Hut, a ramshackle building with a tile roof and brick walls on the corner of a busy intersection. Glass tables and wooden chairs sat gathered under umbrellas outside the establishment, while tinted windows kept the baking light from getting inside. I opened the door, which gave the ring of a bell as I stepped inside to the aromas of percolating coffee and fresh pastries inside a heavily air conditioned facility.

In a metal chair, at a wooden table, atop the black linoleum floor, nursing a glass of cold brew and a blueberry muffin, Olivia Root sat waiting for me.

She stared at me, blinking only occasionally as I walked up to the counter and ordered myself an iced Americano and a cinnamon roll. I maintained eye contact with her as I waited at the pick-up section for my drink, tearing sections off my pastry. Finally, a glass of cold coffee was thrust into my hand and I sauntered over to the table where she waited for me.

“You changed your hair,” she said.

“I did,” I said, running my hand through a loose section of it. I was still getting used to seeing light blonde locks running down my shoulders and chest when I looked down. But I liked it. I liked the new me. And I’d be damned I could be cowed or provoked into not being that person anymore. Had to do this. Had to prove myself. “I needed a change.”

“Been making a lotta changes lately.”

“I have,” I nodded.

“You and Faith looked awfully cozy in that picture you posted last night.”

“You follow me on Insta?”

“I follow all the competition,” she said. “Same goes for other platforms.”

“That’s certainly…”

“Certainly what?”

“Dedicated.”

“Was that what you were originally going to say?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Uh-huh.”

“Why do you care, exactly?” I said, trying to change the subject.Easy, Kate, don’t provoke her, and don’t get angry. You can do this. Just have a civilized conversation with someone who openly hates you. No problem.

“I care about Faith,” she said. “I don’t want her to get hurt. She told me about what happened, about you pressuring her into confessing to Zeke-”

“Pressure is a very strong word,” I said, monotone anger beginning to infect my voice.

“Sure it is,” she said. “I guess I just wanna know: what kind of game do you think you’re playing here, Calloway?”

“Uh… Competitive robot fighting?”

“Don’t get cute with me.”

“You think I’m cute?” I said, smirking, squinting, raising both eyebrows.

“Don’t do that,” she glared.

“What, be witty and charming?”

“Distract me. Avoid the topic. What kind of game are you playing with Faith and Zeke?”

“Um… There’s no game?” I said, barely understanding what I was being asked. “I’m just in a happy, committed relationship.”

“With which one?”

I flinched. Oh. Right. This wasn’t something we’d exactly gone public with. Because… We’d been afraid that… Something… Like this would… Would…

“You gonna answer the question? Or should I take your silence as an answer?”

“Both. I’m dating both. And they’re both dating me,” I said. “And they’re dating each other.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“No, I’m being entirely sincere right now,” I said before taking a long sip of my coffee.

She stared at me, hands flat on the table. “Is this a f*cking joke to you?”

“In what regard?”

“Them. Both of them. You seriously don’t see what this looks like?”

“I guarantee you that I don’t,” I rolled my eyes. Seriously, what was this jackass on about?

“You’re sh*tting me-”

“I don’t know if you’ve picked up on this, but I’ve historically struggled with a lack of self-awareness. So perhaps you’d be so terribly kind as to explain to my dumb blonde ass what the f*ck you’re on about?” I said, frustrating starting to seep into my conscious mind.

“You’re playing with their hearts,” Olivia said. “Toying with them both in order to take down the competition from within.”

I blinked a single, sustained blink for something like fifteen seconds, my jaw dropped so far it might’ve dislocated. “Excuse you?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Calloway. You may have those two fooled, but you I see right through you.”

“You’re insane,” I glared. “You think I’m some kind of supervillain, when in reality I’m just an idiot who somehow lucked into a relationship with two amazing people.”

“God, you really buy your own bullsh*t, don’t you?” Olivia said.

“Because it’s not bullsh*t. It’s the truth. I like them both,” I said, bunching my fists together. She thought I was… She thought I was freaking honey-potting the competition! What the hell- who would do such a thing?!

“And the fact that this would make it harder for them to fight you again if it comes to that is just a bit of good luck?” Olivia said.

“No, it’s bad luck, because it’ll be just as hard for me,” I said, the anger beginning to rise, only to slam against the ceiling of my willpower. I wasn’t going to get angry, not at her, not in public. I just couldn’t believe she really thought I’d...

“I won’t let you hurt her more than you already have,” Olivia said.

“Funny, I could say the same thing about you,” I snapped, slamming my hand on the table. “Because you hurt her real badly. You ripped her heart out and tore it into a million f*cking pieces. There are times where I still see her struggling to piece it back together. But Zeke and I care about her more than enough to help her with that.”

“Should’ve known you couldn’t get through this conversation without screaming,” Olivia said.

“I’m not screaming!” I said. Then I blinked again, and realized everyone was staring at me. Because I’d screamed. “I’m not… I’m not the monster you think I am, Olivia,” I said, forcing myself into a quieter volume. The anger began to dissolve, boiled away by the cold fire of my shame and dysphoria. I’m not that person anymore. I’m not.

“However badly I hurt her,” Olivia said, “It’s nothing compared to what you did. She used to rant about you for hours, about how annoying you were, how much you’d embarrassed us, how much we were all looking forward to ripping that smug f*cking smirk off your face. She dreaded having to deal with you, and so did I, because just looking at you would ruin her day.”

I blinked again. A tear fell out, shattering on the table. Did I really… Did she really?

“And you’re crying, like the fragile little baby you are,” Olivia rolled her eyes and scoffed. “That’s really all it is with you: you’re a child, desperate for attention. So desperate for Faith’s attention that you harassed her into thinking she likes you after you stole Zeke from her. The fact that you think you can get away with this is sickening. The fact that you think you can flaunt this farce of a relationship in front of everyone is equally sickening. You disgust me, Keith Calloway.”

I stared at her, wide-eyed with shock, my deadname knocking the wind out of me.

“I bet you’re not even really trans,” Olivia said. “You just wanted the attention Faith was getting because of her transition. You’re an insult to trans people, just like you’re an insult to our sport. And if I have to kick your ass in the battle box to stop you from dragging Faith down with you, I will. But honestly, given who you’re up against this week, I probably won’t even need to. Gregson will put you in your place like the obnoxious little boy you are. I’ll see you at the arena, Keith. Have a nice day. And thanks again for the dress.”

Her words were like daggers, each sentence a stab wound. She got up and left me there, without even my rage for company. It was gone, out of reach- where was it? And why couldn’t I move or speak or do anything but count the tears that were falling from my eyes. It shouldn’t hurt this much.

It didn’t used to hurt this much.

I buried my face in my hands and wept, sitting there for what felt like hours. The emotional wounds festered and stung, and I hated how much I thought she was right. I was a travesty, an insult, a bad person, a fake trans girl. If she was wrong, I’d have been able to fight back, keep my anger, use it. Do something instead of cry. And cry. And cry. And cry.

“Um… Excuse me, Miss?” a slender black barista with dreadlocks tied back in a ponytail said to me while holding a slip of paper. “Your friend said that you would be paying for her food and drink?”

I looked up at him, sure I was in a state with my red eyes and horror show of makeup.

“You know what? It’s on the house,” he said, offering me a weak thumbs-up.

***

Eventually, I managed to force myself to my feet and hauled my stupid, disgusting, fake body back to the store. I lumbered into the back and stormed past my mother talking to Faith and Zeke in the hallway.

“Katie?” Faith asked, concern I’d done nothing to warrant plain to see on her perfect face. “What happened?”

“What did she do?” Zeke growled.

“Kate,” Mom started.

I stormed past them, silently, and went into my room and slammed the door and locked it.

I flopped onto my bed, my newly-blonde hair falling into my face. I didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve any of this. I rolled over and looked into the vanity mirror we’d brought into my room recently, and stared at myself. I was disgusting, a perversion, a degenerate travesty, an insult to trans women everywhere. I ought to just hack my hair off, wipe away the runny makeup, put back on the boy clothes I deserved to wear.

But the thought of that… It was like imagining bathing in sewer water. It made me feel like weeds were growing out of my skin. It made me feel like hiding away in some deep dark corner of unreality and never letting anyone see me again. I couldn’t go back to being Keith. I didn’t want to.

But what if I wasn’t really trans? What if I really was just a freak? What if I just wanted attention? What if I was just trying to take down the competition by playing some kind of cruel game?

“Kate?” Zeke and Faith both called from the other side of my door.

I laid there for a while, the room spinning as I slipped further and further away.

“Please open the door, Kate,” Mom said.

Mom. She and Dad… They believed me. They saw the best in me. And maybe they were biased because they were my parents, but… Maybe there was something to it.

I rolled off my bed and hobbled over to the door and pulled it open a crack. My partners and my parents both were all there, all slumped with concern like they were sharing my pain.

“Hi, guys,” I said weakly.

Mom started, “Katie, what’s going on-”

Faith yanked the door open and wrapped her arms around me. I gasped as she impacted, stunned that she was giving me surprise-hugs all of the sudden.

“I don’t… I don’t deserve this,” I said.

“Yes, you do,” Faith said, squeezing me tight.

“But I’m… I’m not really trans!” I moaned.

All four of them gaped at me. Finally, Faith said, “What the f*ck did she say to you?!”

I explained why as Faith wiped the runny makeup off of my visage and applied moisturizer, then kept explaining as she and Zeke led me to the dining room. My parents had set aside a glass of water for me while my mom cooked spaghetti on the stovetop.

“And that’s what happened?” Zeke said, sitting on the couch with my dad. Dad was just angrily fiddling with his abacus, looking ready to pop a vein from sheer rage.

“Yeah,” I said, sitting at the kitchen table while Faith stroked my arm.

“Unbelievable,” Zeke said, fists balled.

“But she’s right, I’m an insult to-”

“No,” Faith said simply. “You’re not. Nobody fakes being trans, Kate. Nobody does that to get attention. That’s not a real thing. And even if they did, nobody would go as far as to start taking estrogen. Olivia only thinks that because she knows literally nothing about the topic.”

“Then why does it hurt so much! Why did her words-”

“You’re on estradiol and spiro, sweetie,” Faith said. “It’s like that.”

“It’s… That’s all?”

“Yeah. You’re gonna cry more. And more. And more and more and more. And you’re gonna find yourself becoming less aggressive. That’s normal. It’s just how the HRT works.”

“Oh,” I said quietly. “But what if-”

“Kate, if you were honey-potting us, you’ve been doing a terrible job at it,” Zeke said blandly. “Someone doing that would try to play Faith and I against each other, make us think we had to compete for you. You literally offered to get out of the way so Faith and I could be together at one point.”

“And I should still-”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Zeke said.

“You really shouldn’t,” Faith said.

“This is correct,” Dad said.

“Mm-hm,” Mom intoned.

“You… You really don’t think I’m… A bad person?”

“No,” they all said.

“You don’t think I’m an attention whor*?”

A bit of incoherent murmuring came out of each of them as they all babbled at once, but eventually Faith’s voice rose over the others: “A little, yeah. But like… That’s not always a bad thing. And you’ve been doing a much better job keeping that in check lately.”

“... Did you and Olivia really used to rant about me for hours at a time?” I asked, barely squeaking out the words I feared the answer to.

“... Yes,” Faith said, breaking eye contact. “But I’m not proud of that. Yes, you were obnoxious, but I took it WAY too personally. It wasn’t okay. And Olivia and I fed into each other on that. Honestly, we fed into a lot of each other’s worst habits.”

“Oh yeah, big time,” Zeke said.

“You know, you could have tried to call us on it at the time,” Faith said flatly.

“Would you have listened?” Zeke said.

“... No, probably not,” Faith shrugged. “And Olivia definitely wouldn’t have.”

“Yeaahhhhh, that’s what I figured.”

“Look,” Faith said to me, “You can’t let her get to you.”

“I just don’t know what to do with all this,” I said, raking my hands through my hair. Oh, my hair. My beautiful blonde hair. I couldn’t believe I’d been considering hacking it off. “I’m glad I didn’t lose my temper. I’m glad the anger didn’t take over. But… Is this who I am now? I am gonna break down crying every time an insult hits close to home?”

“No,” Faith said with a reassuring smile. “The hormones are overwhelming you right now, but you will get used to them in time.”

“And it doesn’t have to be forever,” Mom said gently, pouring the cooked pasta into a drainer and stirring the marinara and sausage sauce with a wooden spoon. Guess she decided a home-cooked meal was what I needed. “There’s such a thing as feminine strength. You’re allowed to stand up for yourself. You just need to figure out how to do that in a way that feels right to you. In a way that feels right for the woman you’re becoming.”

I gulped, and I nodded. Zeke came over and sat opposite me, and I leaned into his strength. So tough and rugged. And I held Faith close, feeling her strength as well: her iron will and steadfast perseverance, her ability to keep going and always find a way.

“You’ll never be perfect,” Faith said. “But you are getting better. And it’s been amazing, watching you blossom.”

“Thank you,” I sniffed.

“You’re strong, Katie,” Zeke said. “And you’re brave. You just need to accept that. That’s the first step to being able to stick up for yourself. You’re worth it. And we care about you.”

“We all do,” Dad smiled.

“Amen,” Mom said as she served me a plate of pasta.

I felt myself starting to cry again, happy tears this time. I wanted to fight against it, hold it back like I used to. But…

But that wasn’t real strength. Hiding from how I felt, that wasn’t me. That wasn’t the kind of strength I wanted. I was someone who could be honest about how she felt. And who was strong enough to show it to people. And that was okay.

So I cried my happy tears while I ate my home cooked meal with the people who saw me for who I really was and who I was becoming. Who saw all that I’d been and all that I could be, and who wanted to be there with me as I moved forward.

And move forward I would.