by Kris Ripper
Meeting him was a little bit intense. He shook my hand and looked me dead in the eyes from where he sat in his wheelchair.
“I always like being on good terms with the press,” he said, and I was pretty sure he was kind of joking with me, but I had no idea if I was supposed to laugh or take him seriously or what.
“What do you think about QYP?” I asked.
“I think it’s a long time coming and it’s going to save lives. Good to meet you, Ed.”
“You too.”
And dismissed.
Alisha giggled in my ear as we walked away. “So that was Donald.”
“I don’t even know what just happened.”
“Was he everything you hoped he’d be?”
I thought about the sharpness in his eyes. “Yeah.”
We saw Mildred as she was leaving with the baby, Obie, and Emerson, who apparently all lived in a house together. I didn’t know if I wanted kids, but raising a kid in a house full of people seemed like a cool idea.
She gave me a tight hug and told me she was making a quilt for Honey, and that she’d sell it and donate the money to QYP when she was done. It was such a great idea I immediately wondered what I could make into a mini fundraiser. I wasn’t sure my knitting skills were up for anything super ambitious, but then again, if it was for Honey and QYP, maybe I should figure it out.
Sometime before midnight, people began really clearing out. Alisha and I lingered long enough to say good-bye to Josh and Keith. It had been a damn long night, but Josh hadn’t brought the mood down with his speech; he’d elevated expectations. He stood there in front of all those people and basically declared that they were planning to change the world.
Outside, the rain had broken, and here and there between the clouds we could see the dark night sky, strewn with stars. We walked as close to each other as we could, and I gave her my coat.
“I would have loved a place like that when I was a teenager,” I said. “Where I could just exist, without Abuela trying to make me Mexican and Dad trying to make me Italian and Mom trying to make me so inoffensive I didn’t threaten anyone by being different.”
“I, on the other hand, would have loved a place like that to meet girls.”
“Well. I wouldn’t have ruled that out . . .”
Alisha took a deep breath and exhaled. “God, I love breathing sometimes. You ever think about it? Breathing’s such a trip. The whole thing where you inhale oxygen and it gets absorbed into your blood stream? That freaked me out when I was a kid.”
“Why?” I asked, trying not to smile.
“Hey, I’m serious! And I think it was because it made me feel so exposed. Like anything could get inside me at any time, you know? I wasn’t this closed system, nice and safe, I was all kinds of open and it was scary.”
“That’s an interesting way to look at it.”
“Yeah, and now—now it’s the opposite of scary. Now it’s this great metaphor for how I want to go through life. I want to be open and exposed and take things in. I want to absorb everything if I can. I want to try everything to see if I like it. I want to be brave.”
“You are.”
“I’m not. But I want to be. I really want to be.”
We walked the rest of the way to my car in silence. I wasn’t sure about Alisha, but I was taking deep breaths and thinking about how blood traveled an endless path through the body, constantly purifying itself, constantly energizing itself, never stopping.
She was right. The metaphors were pretty much infinite.
No new murders. I checked Togg’s site every five minutes Friday morning almost superstitiously, as if any gathering heavy with queers might draw out the killer, but no. The QYP open house hadn’t triggered another murder.
I was relieved, obviously, but also a little sick. I expected someone to die. If not last night, then at Apocalypse WOW, Club Fred’s next theme night in two weeks. Maybe Fredi would cancel it. I thought I would if I were her.
Not that it mattered. If Club Fred’s never held another theme night, whoever this was would keep killing. You don’t get over your desire to beat people to death because a local club changes their promotion schedule. In a very real, very fucking grim way, it was probably more convenient for the investigation if everything kept going the way it was. Right now we knew what triggered the murders, and eventually we’d know who was committing them.
I already had my warrior outfit all picked out for Apocalypse WOW. Not that I’m a huge World of Warcraft person or anything, but I’d found a warrior cosplay suit that looked awesome and seemed like it might have multiple uses. Sitting at my desk, wondering if Fredi would cancel the theme night, I started imagining some uses for it that Alisha might enjoy.
“Masiello!” Potter’s voice boomed from the back. “You working or daydreaming? I sent you an email twenty minutes ago!”
“Sorry!” I called. I may have flushed.
Caspar snickered. “Busted, kid.”
“Don’t call me ‘kid.’”
“Thinking about your boyfriend?”
“Girlfriend, and shut the fuck up.”
He did a double take. “Girlfriend?”
I sighed.
Caspar kept on me the rest of the morning, trying to work out if I was joking about having a girlfriend. I ignored him and took quickie notes on the assignments Potter had sent me before dodging out “to interview some people.”
Or to sit in my car in a slight drizzle and record a voice message for Alisha about how now that I passed as a dude all the time, everyone thought I was gay, which was weird because when people thought I was a woman, they also thought I was gay, so basically I was gay for all seasons. I figured she’d listen on her break and laugh.
Later, in the middle of a conversation with an administrator at the rec center about the upcoming flag football season, my phone buzzed against my leg. I figured it was Alisha, giggling into my voice mail, but I had to wait until I was back at the car before listening.
It was Alisha. And she was giggling.
“I quit my job. Oh my god. Oh my god, Ed, I quit my job. I’m never going back there. I walked out, and I’m done, and I’m never going back there ever again.” Giggle. “I’m high right now. Like completely high. I don’t even know what to do with myself. I’m just going to wander around town until you get off work. Oh my god, I can’t even believe I did that. I’m so happy right now. I can’t wait for you to get off work. Love you, bye.”
I played it again, smiling at her tone, at her laughter. She quit her job. How was she going to pay rent? Or buy food? Did she have a plan? Who’d quit a decent job that paid well enough to live on?
Alisha. That’s who.
There was a second message after the first.
“It’s just, I’ve been thinking all day about what Josh said, and this isn’t what I want to do with my life, sitting around, talking to jerks on the phone, enabling other people’s canned adventures when I want to be having my own. I want to change, and grow, and be a different person a few years from now, you know? I want to look back and see that I’ve—that I didn’t live my life wondering when it would start. It’s starting. Today. Oh my god.”
All I wanted to do was meet up with her somewhere and celebrate with her, though the idea of quitting my job scared the hell out of me. The clock informed me I had another four hours of work left and I couldn’t think of a single responsible way out of it.
They were a very long four hours.
I picked up a vegan pizza and brought it back to her apartment. She buzzed me up and was waiting at the top of the stairs to maul me.
“I am so fucking happy right now, Ed, I can’t deal. Oh, pizza, you’re amazing, this is exactly what I need right now.”
Even so, the pizza ended up tossed on the table while Alisha tumbled me onto the sofa.
“You smell like freedom.” I kissed her.
“I am freedommm!” Her hands framed my face. “I didn’t know it would feel like this. I had no idea.”
/>
I wondered if that feeling would change when she had to pay her bills, but figured it wasn’t really prudent to point out.
She exhaled, as if she hadn’t breathed in months. “I’m so excited for the rest of my life right now, in a way I’ve never felt before. Like, I have no idea what I’m going to do next week, or next month, but right now I’m so excited.”
“Babe, that’s great. I’m so happy for you.” And terrified for you, but happy for you too.
“Come away with me this weekend.”
I blinked.
“I’m serious. Just for the weekend. We’ll leave early tomorrow and stay the night.”
“Um, I—”
“Ed, come on.” She hummed a little melody.
“Are you going to serenade me in the style of Norah Jones? Because your answer may influence my decision.”
“Please come with me. Overnight, that’s all.”
I felt like I should sit down and make a list of the things I’d planned to do over the weekend, and how much gas would cost, and what kind of things we’d have to pack. “Where? Where are we going? It’s supposed to keep storming through Sunday.”
Alisha’s smile did this very suspicious twist. “I’m not telling you until you say you’ll come with me. I already made the reservation, and I’m going with or without you.”
“But—”
She pressed two fingers to my lips. “Come on an adventure with me, Ed. Please.”
I mean, a beautiful woman begs you to go on an adventure with her . . . you’d be a fool to say no, right?
“If it’s somewhere posh, I’m not sure we should be spending—”
“I’ve already taken care of it. We’ll just need to stop for food.”
That should have been a warning sign, but in the moment I didn’t think about it. I kissed her, tugging her in tight against me.
“Let’s go on an adventure. Also, remind me to tell you about my warrior costume later.”
“You have a warrior costume?”
“Did you ever play WOW?”
She collapsed into my shoulder, laughing. “Oh my god, you nerd.”
“I’m not a nerd! Nerd would be playing D&D.”
Alisha treated me to a raised eyebrow and an unfairly knowing expression. “And you never played D&D?”
“I—I didn’t play it enough to be considered a D&D nerd!”
“I was more of an Age of Empires kid than a WOW kid,” she said.
“Nerd swoon.” I kissed her again. “We should eat pizza. And you should tell me what our adventure is.”
“Um. Maybe. You’re committed now, right? Even if it’s . . . not exactly what you pictured? Because the reservations are made and we’re not backing out.”
“I haven’t pictured anything! I have literally no clue what you would pick for an overnight adventure to celebrate quitting your job.”
“Good. I like being a woman of mystery.” She rolled off me, and I groaned. “Pizza, boyfriend.”
“Yeah.” And she called me that a lot, so much that I thought of myself as her boyfriend, but it still made me shiver. “So,” I said casually as I got us paper towels. “If you were planning an adventure in a storm, where would you go?”
“Somewhere tropical. I mean, I don’t actually want to be caught in a hurricane, but the intensity of a tropical storm totally intrigues me.”
I rolled my eyes. “What if you were going away for only a short period of time? Like overnight?”
“It’s on a need-to-know basis.”
“But don’t I need to know?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
Since I knew any further badgering would only make her dig in more, I settled for pouting instead.
“Ha ha ha, your face right now.”
“Shut up! I have a good pout!”
“You have a terrible pout.”
We argued long enough about whether or not I credibly pouted for me to forget I was wheedling for information. Then she seduced me and I couldn’t be held responsible for my inability to focus on anything after that.
“It’s raining,” I said, for the third time, gesturing to the windshield. “Pouring rain. There’s a wind advisory.”
“I know.”
“But—”
“If you don’t want to come, you don’t have to, but I’m definitely going, so.” She stared straight out the windshield without looking over at me.
We’d never fought before. Not really. Maybe a passive-aggressive dig here or there, but never outright, and never an actual disagreement.
Alisha was driving us to my place to pick up my stuff. Which was why she’d finally had to tell me where we were going.
“But camping? In a storm?”
“My tent has a rainfly.”
I tried to make my tone sound reasonable. “Well, yeah, but . . . rainfly’s not really meant for a storm—”
“Listen, I’m doing this. And it’s going to be fun. And if you can’t have fun with it, you should stay home.”
Ouch.
“I’m not— Alisha, I’m not trying to say it won’t be fun. I’m just worried that we’ll be miserable the whole time and then—” Okay, maybe I was trying to say it wouldn’t be fun. Most of the time we spent together was warm and domestic and comfortable. This sounded like none of those things.
She nodded. “And it’s a hike-in site. We’ll be totally on our own. Won’t even be able to get to the car.”
I stared into the massive amounts of water being dumped from the sky and tried to imagine hiking in it.
“You don’t have to come with me. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“I don’t know how safe that is.”
“I’m not asking for your opinion. And considering how safe it is around here lately, I guess it’s probably not likely to be less safe in a deserted campground during a storm. I’m sure the murderers will stay home where it’s dry.”
I winced. “Give me a minute, okay? It sounds completely insane and I can’t believe anyone would do it, but on the other hand, that’s what makes it interesting. I need a minute to think.”
During that minute, as we navigated the last few blocks toward my house, she took my hand. Nothing more. Just her fingers and mine intertwined.
“I’m in,” I said. “Oh my god, we’re mad. Who does this?”
“We do, babe. We do this. Okay, so here’s how I packed.”
I studied, but what it came down to was layers and layers and layers. Layers under my clothes, layers of long underwear and socks and an additional sweatshirt, all rolled into plastic bags at the bottom of my backpack. Then food rolled into plastic bags on top of that. Then my sleeping bag also rolled into a plastic bag and affixed to the top with ropes.
As we were getting ready to leave, JP and Troy came down the stairs, both of them with bedhead. They stopped on the landing to blink blearily at us.
“Whoa. Where’re you guys going?”
“Camping,” Alisha said.
“In the rain?”
“Yep.” She raised her eyebrows playfully. “Doesn’t that sound like a hell of an adventure?”
“Shit. Uh.” Troy looked at JP. “Yeah.”
“You guys are gonna be soaked. Bring wool. It dries faster than cotton.” JP yawned. “Have fun.”
“Thanks,” I said. “See you.”
“Yeah, bye.”
When they started banging around in the kitchen, Alisha lowered her voice. “You think that’s true? About wool?”
“Yeah. At least, I think I saw it on one of those survival shows. Why?”
She grinned. “Because I almost didn’t bring my wool socks since they’re so big, but I threw them in at the last minute. Ha.”
I kissed her. “We are fucking nuts to do this.”
“I know! Isn’t it great?”
“Yeah. It’s great.”
It might be uncomfortable, and wet, and somewhat miserable later, but right now, it was pretty damn exciting. “Let’s go. Wait, let me get my
own wool socks first.”
More layers of plastic bags to line the rest of my pack, then I zipped, made sure the sleeping bag was secure, and loaded the car.
I peered into the trunk. “This is the tent? It looks minuscule, even with bags around it.”
“It’s a two-person tent. I figured we’d cuddle for warmth.” The dirty smile said we’d do a lot more than that.
“This is gonna be great,” I told her. “Really great.”
“We might need to be naked, you know, to get the full benefit of our body heat.”
“Naughty girl.”
She stepped up close against me. “Maybe you’re a prince and I’m your servant girl and we’re going on a pilgrimage.”
“In that case, you’re carrying everything and setting up camp, right?”
“Men! Lazy bastards.”
We kissed, standing there in the small amount of shelter from the hatch of her car.
“I’m so excited you’re coming with me,” she murmured against my lips.
“Me too.”
The drive wasn’t bad. It was stormy, but there weren’t a lot of cars on the road once we were past Marin, so that made it feel more like a fantasy adventure.
We played with the backstory for most of the drive, building off each other. I was a prince in a desert land, traveling to meet the princess I was promised to, who reigned in a land that saw rain for most of the year. The mages in charge of royal matches had thought that tying our two lands together would bring balance to the world, but I was in love with my servant, even though I’d never dared touch her, and neither of us had ever been out of the desert. We had been traveling for weeks already and were coming ever closer to the city where my princess awaited me, which meant if we were going to confess our devotion for one another, it would have to be soon . . .
