by Alexis Hall
[Group][Efthalia]: if it wouldn’t be weird
[Group][Aconite]: It might be weird
[Group][Efthalia]: more weird than our swamp date
[Group][Aconite]: So this was a date then?
[Group][Efthalia]: i guess so
[Group][Aconite]: :)
[Group][Aconite]: I really want to
[Group][Aconite]: But I’m a bit
[Group][Aconite]: You’re the first guy I’ve been really into
[Group][Aconite]: And you thought I was a girl
[Group][Aconite]: And we have a really nice time together
[Group][Aconite]: But I’d rather stick to that
[Group][Aconite]: Than mess everything up trying to change it
Drew could see where Kit was coming from. His worst-case scenario was that they’d meet up and he’d realise he just wasn’t into boys, and that would be difficult but basically back to normal. For Kit it would be this massive, unnecessary head-fuck.
[Group][Efthalia]: i get that
[Group][Efthalia]: and i can’t predict how it’s going to go
[Group][Efthalia]: and if you want to just do this
[Group][Efthalia]: then we can
[Group][Efthalia]: but i think we might be missing out
[Group][Efthalia]: i want to see where this goes
There was a slightly fraught silence. Drew’s hands were shaking a little against the keyboard. Wow, that was the most serious “we should go out” speech he’d ever given anyone, and he was pretty sure he would never have been able to say it aloud. Not without feeling like an idiot. To be honest, he felt a bit of an idiot now, but it was cushioned by two medusas standing in a puddle around an elemental they’d forgotten to loot.
Still nothing from Kit.
Drew risked putting his fingers back on the keys.
[Group][Efthalia]: and look
[Group][Efthalia]: not being funny or anything
[Group][Efthalia]: but the way i see
[Group][Efthalia]: i’ve never had a boyfriend
[Group][Efthalia]: and actually you’ve never had a boyfriend
[Group][Efthalia]: so we’re both pretty new to this
[Group][Efthalia]: and what have we got to lose
Silence. Silence. Silence.
[Group][Aconite]: Okay
Drew stared blankly at the screen. He wasn’t sure whether to celebrate or hide under the desk.
[Group][Efthalia]: seriously?
[Group][Aconite]: Why? Were you hoping I’d say no?
[Group][Efthalia]: No!
[Group][Efthalia]: i just wasn’t sure you were going to say yes
[Group][Aconite]: After a speech like that, how could a guy resist?
[Group][Efthalia]: *blush*
[Group][Aconite]: Hee, that’s my line.
[Group][Efthalia]: lol
It was as close as it was going to get to how it used to be. And Drew was slightly shocked at how happy it made him.
[Group][Efthalia]: so . . . like
[Group][Efthalia]: basic internet safety stuff
[Group][Efthalia]: we should meet somewhere neutral and public and tell people where you’re going
[Group][Efthalia]: somewhere in town?
[Group][Aconite]: It’s not exactly classy but how about Starbucks?
[Group][Efthalia]: the one in the shopping centre?
[Group][Aconite]: Yes
[Group][Efthalia]: tomorrow?
[Group][Efthalia]: before the raid
[Group][Efthalia]: 4ish
[Group][Aconite]: Yes
[Group][Aconite]: God, I’m terrified.
[Group][Efthalia]: me too
[Group][Aconite]: But I’m looking forward to it :)
[Group][Efthalia]: me too :)
[Group][Efthalia]: shit how will I know who you are
[Group][Aconite]: I’ll be dressed as a penguin and reading The Financial Times
[Group][Efthalia]: then I’ll be wearing a red carnation and looking through a newspaper with two holes cut in it
[Group][Aconite]: Hee
[Group][Aconite]: Actually, I’m kind of ordinary looking, sort of blondish and I’ll be wearing a blue shirt
[Group][Aconite]: Sorry that probably doesn’t help
[Group][Aconite]: I’ll be reading a secondhand copy of A Canticle for Leibowitz
[Group][Efthalia]: So if I see someone with a brand new copy I’ve got the wrong dude
[Group][Aconite]: Yeah, he works for the KGB
[Group][Efthalia]: lol
[Group][Aconite]: Are you coming to the raid tonight
[Group][Efthalia]: didn’t sign up
[Group][Efthalia]: got a course deadline
[Group][Efthalia]: wasn’t sure I’d be free
[Group][Aconite]: See you on Wednesday then :)
And just like that, Drew had a date.
When Wednesday finally came, he told Tinuviel and Sanee just in case Solace turned out to be some kind of serial killer who called himself Kit because he liked to chop people up and assemble new boyfriends out of the pieces.
“You do realise,” Sanee said ominously, “that this guy’s a geek, which means he’s probably going to look like me or, well, you.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Well, would you date you?”
“No. But I am me. That would be weird.”
Sanee frowned. “I just can’t get my head round it. Obviously girls like you. Well, two girls like you, or three if you count that chick at that club that time. I’m not saying you’re a minger or anything . . .”
Drew had been feeling relatively good until then. Attractiveness-wise, he’d always thought of himself as being on the right side of average. He washed and shaved and kept in decent shape. He’d been told he had nice eyes, but then he was pretty sure nobody ever said, Darling, your eyes are really close-set and piggy tonight.
Some kind of panic must have shown on his face, because Sanee suddenly started talking again. “Sorry, dude. It’s just, well, you’re a dude, and I’m a dude, and I’m trying to be supportive here, but I’m looking at you now, and I don’t fancy you, and I’m having a hard time seeing why anyone would.”
“Thanks, mate. Way to build me up before my big date.”
Tinuviel glanced up from Hawkeye. “I don’t fancy Drew either—”
“Should I just kill myself now?”
“—but,” she went on, “I can see why somebody else might.”
“Wow,” said Drew, “see praise comma faint colon damning with.”
She blinked at him. “It doesn’t matter what we think. It matters what Kit thinks.”
“So no pressure, then.”
“It’ll be fine. Do you mind if I borrow this?” She waved the trade paperback as casually as a geek was capable of treating a comic.
Drew had the feeling his friends weren’t taking his concerns seriously. “Yeah, go on, then. You might as well take volume two as well.”
While Sanee and Tinuviel were busy with Hawkeye, he went over to his wardrobe and peered inside like he was looking for Narnia. He hesitated to ask, but he had trouble picking date clothes at the best of times. “Um, guys, which T-shirt should I wear?”
“Dude.” Sanee twisted round. “Maybe you could try wearing an actual shirt like a grown-up.”
“Or a schoolkid. Why don’t I put on a stripey tie and a blazer as well?”
“Bit kinky for a first date.”
Drew gave a long-suffering sigh and reluctantly pulled out his one good shirt. “I feel like I’m going to an interview.”
Sanee flipped into lecture mode. “Basically, mate, you are. That’s what a date is. It’s like a sex interview. So you need to dress up for it. Seriously, you won’t regret it. I wore a shirt for my first date with Steff. Chicks love that stuff.” There was a pause. “Although . . . that may not be pertinent to this situation.”
“I don’t care what my date is wearing,” offered Tinuviel helpfully, “as long a
s it reflects their essential self.”
Drew shoved his shirt back in the wardrobe. “I’m going with the essential-self plan.” He started grabbing T-shirts and holding them up to his chest. Feelings are boring, kissing is awesome probably looked a shade desperate, and he was afraid if he wore I will do science to it, he’d actually have to know about science, which would be embarrassing since Kit actually did.
“How about this?” He waved I’m not slacking off, my code’s compiling.
Sanee flinched. “No way, man. The way xkcd’s gone recently, he’ll think you’ve got terrible taste in webcomics and it’ll all be over.”
“So I’m a minger with terrible taste in clothes and webcomics?”
“If it’s any consolation, he’s probably just as big a loser as you are.”
“Well, at least you’ve stopped being weirded out he’s a guy.”
Sanee grinned.
Drew disappeared back into his wardrobe and finally emerged. “Okay, I think I’ve found the perfect one.”
They stared at him in polite bemusement.
“I think it works,” said Tinuviel, finally. “It’s very you.”
Sanee seemed less convinced. “So, you’re saying that your essential self is ‘A wizard has turned you into a whale. Is this awesome? Y/N’?”
Drew shrugged. “I think it’ll make him laugh.”
An hour later, he was anxiously circling the designated Starbucks, trying to psych himself up to go in.
To be honest, he couldn’t figure out what scared him most: the possibility that he wouldn’t fancy Kit, or the possibility that he would.
Finally, he pulled himself together and walked through the door. It wasn’t particularly crowded in there, and he scanned the tables looking for . . . what? Someone ordinary and blondish and reading a book.
There was only one guy reading. Or, at least, only one guy reading a paper book.
But if Drew’d had to describe him, he wouldn’t have gone with ordinary.
He’d been expecting some kind of hopeless geek-boy. But the young man at the table was, well . . . elegant, somehow, his chin propped on one long-fingered hand as he read.
Drew was really beginning to wish he’d worn a shirt.
Kit was wearing a shirt—a dark-blue one with embroidery down the sleeves—and his hair was blondish, as he’d said, but it was a rich, dark gold, slightly curly at the ends, as if he had his own personal stylist hanging out backstage.
Basically, he looked like a catalogue model, or the popular one in a boyband. Kind of slim and lean and clean-cut. The sort of guy you could take home to meet your mum.
He glanced up, saw Drew, and gave him a slightly quizzical, slightly hopeful expression.
And Drew had no choice but to walk over there and pretend he wasn’t totally outclassed.
“Solace?” he said. Shit. “I mean, uh, Kit, right?”
The boy nodded and, slowly, a little bit shyly, smiled. It was a good smile. Partially because it was a touch hesitant, like he didn’t give it to just anyone. “Hi, Drew.”
Drew panicked. “I’m just going to grab myself a coffee. Do you want anything?”
Kit nodded towards the mug already on the table. “I’m fine.”
Right. Okay. Stupid question. “Be right back.”
There was a longish queue, which was sort a relief and sort of not. It gave him time to freak out at a safe distance while he was pretending to pick a muffin. But he was still close enough that he was very aware of Kit, well, being there. Being a real, physical person, and not just a bundle of internet. And he wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to be looking, or not looking, or smiling, or waving, or what.
Things were so much easier on a rock in a cave under a swamp.
He got himself a latte and, since he’d been staring at them, a white chocolate and raspberry muffin, and mooched back to sit down.
“Uh, hi,” he said. “Uh, again. Uh, how are you?”
Kit put his book aside. “Honestly? I’m still a bit nervous.”
For some reason that really helped. “Shit, me too.”
They grinned at each other, kind of awkward, kind of not.
“We missed you at the raid on Monday.”
“Sorry. I’m trying to get this water to look right. It’s even less interesting than it sounds. Who MTed?”
“Morag, and Bjorn brought his tanking alt. So that was fun.”
Kit looked so rueful that Drew had to laugh. “How’d it go?”
“Oh, it was fine, he OTs for us all the time. He’s just very Bjorn about it.” His voice slipped into a fairly effective imitation of Bjorn’s self-satisfied drawl. “Don’t worry, this was my main back in vanilla. Did I tell you about the time I soloed Dreadwing after my entire raid died of being noobs?”
Drew grinned. “I dare you to do that in front of him.”
“Gosh, no, he’d shard all my loot for a month.” He paused for a moment. “Also, I think it might make him genuinely sad. He’s quite sensitive really.”
“What, Bjorn?” Drew blinked. “Like . . . Bjorn Bjorn?”
“Well, you don’t carry on that way if you don’t care what people think of you.”
“Oh yeah, I’ve got a mate like that. He’s kind of a dick as well, but I guess he gets away with it because he’s kind of dick at you, not to you.” Remembering Monday, Drew grimaced. “At least, most of the time.”
“That’s a pretty subtle distinction.” Kit gave him a slightly teasing look over the rim of his mug, and Drew felt somewhere between flustered and pleased. And had no idea how to look back.
“I mean,” he went on, “Sanee’s not nasty to anyone. He just kind of is who he is, and sometimes that’s a bit annoying. But if you tell him he’s being annoying, he’ll try to be less annoying.” He remembered Monday again. “At least, most of the time.”
“Truly, that is the meaning of friendship.”
Drew gave him a mock scowl. “Are you taking the piss?”
“Well, yes and no. Mainly yes. But I also think there’s something really nice about having people you can be yourself with, but who you can trust to tell you when yourself is being a dick.”
“I can’t really imagine you being a dick.”
“Hey, I could be a dick if I wanted.”
It was probably a bad moment to suddenly notice that they were saying the word dick a lot, and Drew felt himself blushing for no reason. “So how’s the book?”
Kit grinned wickedly at him. “Wow, way to imperceptibly change the subject.”
“Sorry, we were just kind of on a dick train and I wasn’t sure how to get off.”
The grin vanished. “Sorry, was I making you uncomfortable?”
He honestly wasn’t sure. He didn’t feel exactly cosy, sitting there talking about dicks with the guy he was on a date with, but he couldn’t tell if that was just him being weird. It wasn’t like he’d be talking about vaginas with a girl he’d fancied.
Tinuviel probably would, but she was a special case.
Also Kit looked really anxious, and that was really sad-making.
“I’m not uncomfortable. Promise. Honest. It’s just I got into this spiral in my head, like you know when you’re trying not to think of something, so you do.”
“Oh man—” Kit made a frustrated gesture “—I just lost The Game.”
“Oh thanks, me too.”
They stared at each other helplessly, caught on the verge of laughter.
“There’s a guy on my course,” said Drew, “who refuses to play The Game.”
Kit blinked. “What does that even mean?”
“It’s kind of weird actually. It just means that every time someone loses The Game he goes into this speech about how he doesn’t play The Game because, like, he’s like not a follower or something. I think he actually used the word sheeple at one point.”
Kit flinched, a bit theatrically, but it was cute.
“But the thing is, he’s basically playing this boring meta game of hi
s own, which means he spends all his time waiting for people to mention The Game so he can object. It’s like he takes it way more seriously than anybody who actually plays it, and has way less fun.” Drew paused, and picked thoughtfully at his muffin. “By the way, do you want some?”
Kit nodded, and they sat there companionably, sharing it.
And it didn’t feel weird at all. In fact, it was even better than killing frogmen in a swamp.
“Actually,” Drew went on, “thinking about it, the funny thing about The Game is that the most hard-core way to play it is the most casual. Like if you actually care about going a long time not thinking about The Game—”
Kit yelped. “We are losing The Game so hard right now.”
“Omg, nerf conversations. But, anyway, if you actually care about winning The Game, you’re going to lose The Game, whereas if you don’t give a crap about The Game at all, you can actually do pretty well at it.”
“To be honest, I’d never really thought about it.”
“Well, I’m kind of interested in games, and the way they work. Uh, obviously.”
Kit was nodding thoughtfully. “I guess it’s a social thing as well. Because, as you say, you can’t really play The Game seriously. What it really becomes is a sort of signal. Like wearing a Dinosaur Comics T-shirt.”
“Oh don’t.” Drew folded his arms self-consciously over the killer whale. “I really wish I’d worn a shirt. You’re all smart, and I look like I made no effort.”
“No, it’s perfect. I’ve got ‘Partying Is Such Sweet Sorrow’ at home, but I only wear it for running.”
That gave Drew an image he wasn’t quite ready for: Kit, tousled and a little bit sweaty, jogging through the trees in Victoria Park or something. In his nerdy T-shirt. “It’s probably a good thing you didn’t wear it. We’d have looked a right pair of numpties.”
“Or the Leicester Chapter of the Ryan North Fan Club.”
Drew laughed into his hands, and then sort of panicked because he couldn’t think of anything funny to add. “So you like running, huh?” Shit. That was even worse.
“Yeah.” Kit nodded. “Well, since I spend all my time gaming or in lectures, it’s kind of my bastion against becoming a fat bastard.”
Drew dropped his voice a couple of octaves and adopted a faux cowboy accent. “‘Kid just rages for a while.’”
Kit stared at him, not unkindly but clearly bemused.
