Hopeless Romantic

by Francis Gideon

  “You have that thinking face,” Katie said after a moment. Her voice was flatter than before, but she looked him in the eye. “What’s up?”

  “I figured I did,” Nick said. “I’m . . . I’m afraid I’m going to fuck up.”

  “Oh, I know. But this is what I’m always afraid of: silence. Look, everyone fucks up. I fuck up. When I hung out with Ilana she spent, like, the first month correcting my language. And we’re both trans. Transphobia or whatever we want to call it is not something you are, it’s something that you accidentally do because it’s everywhere.”

  “I get that—a lot actually.”

  “Good. Then you’re fine, I know you are.” She took in a shaky breath. “There are just some things that make me feel like shit every so often, and I do my best to avoid them at all costs. But I think that’s a human impulse, more than it is a trans one.”

  “Of course.”

  “So, yes.” Katie nodded, her confidence apparently returning. “This has been my long spiel that I have to have before we do take our pants off, because what you’re going to find there is not the same as you, even though you may think that at first. Nobody is the same, and sex is always a weird guessing game anyway, so I’m confident we’ll figure it out based on the two of us. If you still want to try stuff.”

  “Yeah, I think I do.” Nick’s cheeks heated with how much he wanted to touch her and find out what he—what they both—would like. His expectations—like Tucker had told him to monitor—had changed, and with that change had come a new wave of excitement. Katie wasn’t like anyone he’d dated before. Maybe that made him bisexual, maybe it made him something else—he wasn’t sure.

  “I really do, actually,” Nick said again, smiling this time. “It’s kind of like the best of both worlds right now.”

  Katie looked as if she’d been sucker punched.

  “Oh God. I did it again, didn’t I?”

  “Yes,” Katie said. “But that’s okay, because it’s okay the first time. The second, the third, and so on that you keep fucking up shows you’re not listening, you know? So ‘the best of both worlds’ still makes me feel like I’m not a woman. I am a woman. Even if that’s not how most of this world will see me because of what I have in my pants. I’m not a man. Not in any way.” She took a deep breath and spoke the next words slowly. “If you see me as . . . as a man, then I can’t date you. Hands down. Identify however you want—bisexual, gay with an exception, or even straight, I don’t care. But don’t fit me into a box that’s labeled as male just to make yourself feel better. Because I won’t have it.”

  “Okay. . .” Nick said.

  “Okay? That simple?”

  “Not that simple. I mean, I think I’m getting it.” Nick took several more moments to turn over what Katie had just said. As he did, he noticed she wasn’t wringing her hands in nervousness anymore—but staring at him expectantly. He met her eyes, studied her heart-shaped face, and brown hair. A woman. She was a woman. “Yes, it is that simple. I don’t see you as a man. I won’t think of you as one, because I never really did. I just thought you were beautiful.”

  “You’re just saying that to get in my pants. So you can see my tattoos.”

  “No, I’m saying that because you are beautiful. Objectively so.” Nick paused again, shifting closer to her. “Remember when we talked about music? You wanted to argue for the objective merits of Cobra Starship, because what’s the point in arguing otherwise? So yes, of course you’re beautiful—but not just to me. You’re like Cobra Starship’s first album, full of bright colours and ridiculous dance beats. But you’re also The Gold Record. Not something everyone is used to, not classic like How I Spent My Summer Vacation, but when you listen to it enough times, you start to realize how special it really is. And besides, that’s where ‘Lean on Sheena’ is. So, basically, The Gold Record is great. And so are you. Objectively so.”

  “Oh, thank you, Nick. Thank you. I think you’re going to do just fine.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” Katie said. Her eyes—so mercurial already—changed from serious to playful like she’d been only moments earlier. When their lips met in a kiss, Nick closed his eyes and leaned into it. He let Katie dictate the speed this time around, and as he grew more and more aroused, he knew he really was going to be fine. She was beautiful and kind, and this was so new—but he wanted to try it.

  Each time Katie inched closer to him, he became aware of a new sensation he’d never had while kissing before. Her breasts brushed his chest, and as he touched her back, he felt her bra straps. Her breasts were small, but they were definitely there. They could fit in my hands. But can I touch them? They had made the jokes about taking off their pants to see their tattoos, and while that was probably still far away, what about tops? Where did their hands go? Nick huffed, his arousal mixing with his confusion. With someone like Greg, they’d already be going down on each other in the backseat of a car. But he was still kissing Katie like high school kids making out. Which was fine. He liked the kissing, especially since it was still so new and magical. But she was so close, and her body was as new to him as her touch.

  Katie’s kiss became less insistent. She gripped Nick’s chin, cradling his face in her hands, as she pulled away and tilted her head. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you? I’m not . . . doing anything wrong?”

  “I’m glad you’re being respectful, but you don’t need to treat me like a bomb. I’m not going to explode . . . at least not like that.”

  Nick’s dick twitched. He was half-hard in his pants again, and as he stared at Katie, he felt himself grow harder just thinking about her exploding. On him. In him? He wasn’t too sure about that yet. If she still had that part of herself—what did he call it?—then maybe she could fuck him, right? He was usually the bottom in most of his relationships, but he didn’t mind being the top. He liked to switch, really. And he was so aroused right now, he’d take any position for her.

  Katie’s lips were pink and swollen from kissing. He placed his thumb on her chin, and was surprised when she leaned down to take it in her mouth. He was sure his fingers tasted like the stupid sponge for the envelopes, but Katie didn’t seem to care. She kept her eyes fixated on him as she sucked his finger next to her cheeks, her tongue moving around his knuckle.

  “Fuck.” Nick removed his fingers and nuzzled his forehead against hers as he placed a hand on her hip. “Fuck, lie down.”

  Nick’s mouth met Katie’s before she could react. He moved his tongue alongside hers quickly and slid a leg in between hers. She groaned, and after some coordination, lay down on Dunja’s floor, her head propped up on one of the pillows.

  “Like this?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” Nick combed a hand through her hair as he lay above her and kissed her neck. He still kept most of his weight off her body since the floor, though covered in the blanket fort, surely wasn’t that comfortable. He rocked their hips together, completely clothed but still granting them both much-needed friction. Katie breathed heavily, opening her legs a little more for Nick’s hips. He tried not to thrust too vigorously, but his hips got away from him. In a sudden shift of their bodies together, he felt Katie’s crotch shift and become rigid. Nick had to pull away from her mouth with a groan. He buried his lips on her neck, sucking hard, as his hand found one of her breasts. Her nipples pebbled underneath his hand. He squeezed, and she gasped again. The back and forth of their bodies continued for some time; it was only broken when Katie slid her hands over Nick’s back, and started to laugh.

  “What?” Nick removed his hands from her breasts and ceased the movement of his hips. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No. I’m sorry.” Katie laughed and pointed to the screen. He’d never bothered to look when he’d paused—Duckie’s face was twisted into a grimace. “I’m sorry,” Katie said again. “I’m laughing at a teen movie from the 1980s that I’ve already seen before. I’m really enjoying this, though. And you.”

 
Katie bucked her hips mischievously. Nick chuckled as he settled them both to a sitting position, their hands interlocked. “I may have gotten away from myself for a while there.”

  “But that wasn’t bad, was it?”

  “No.” Nick smiled. He traced his thumbs over Katie’s hands. “No, that wasn’t bad at all.”

  Katie caught his mouth in hers again, kissing him while running a hand along his jaw. “I liked you touching me. I want you to keep doing it.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, I do. But is it okay if we save that for next time?”

  Nick nodded. He wanted to ask more questions, but he was still blindsided by the kissing. The kissing that had felt really, really good in a way he’d never imagined before. Maybe I am bisexual, he thought. I’ve never liked breasts before until I touched hers. Or maybe, I just like her.

  Katie unpaused the movie, and they snuggled back into the fort to watch it. Nostalgic feelings of his high school dates and proms flashed through his mind. His first year of university, he’d gone to a queer prom with a boyfriend as a way to reclaim the experience for most teens who didn’t get to have one without fear of being outed. Was there a trans prom? Were there experiences like that for Katie? He wondered what Katie’s high school experience had been like, beyond the monster trucks, and if there was anything he could do to make it easier to share with him. Nick knew that was a foolish thing to wonder—who was he to come in and change this woman’s world?—but he also wanted to give her the same type of experiences that she—and he, really—had been denied. If she wanted to be viewed as a woman, then this would be just as much a first for him as it might be for her.

  When the movie ended and the theme song began to play, Nick reached out and combed one of Katie’s stray hairs behind her ears. “I want to take you out. Properly.”

  “Oh? Like a real first date?”

  “Yes, a real first date. So will you go out with me?”

  “We did just grind on the floor, so I may as well get dinner and a movie out of it.”

  “Yeah, totally,” Nick said, chuckling. “But maybe pick one of those options since I’m really broke right now. Dinner or a movie.”

  “Dinner, then. We can watch a free movie on Netflix instead.”

  “Deal.” He held out his hand for her to shake, only to have Katie lean forward and kiss him again. As the song and credits faded out, Katie’s lips still remained on his, a hand on his side. Nick kept kissing her, never wanting the night to end.

  But soon, Dunja’s keys jangled at the front door. Nick broke the kiss but still kept their bodies close together as Dunja stepped into her dining room.

  “Katie. Really? Again with the fort?”

  Katie let out a low laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. Her head peaked up over the edge of the table, and Nick popped up alongside of her. Both wore ridiculously comic grins on their faces, while Dunja played the role of the affected mother.

  “Well, Nick, I see Katie’s already co-opted you into her camp.”

  “Yes.” Nick found her hand and squeezed it again. “She really has.”

  They scheduled the date for Saturday at 7 p.m. Over many texts and Facebook messages, they decided that they would go all out for this date. Not cost-wise, because Nick was still hurting for cash, but all out for romance.

  You know, Katie’s text read. Let’s pretend we’re in a John Hughes film. Or something from the eighties or nineties. Dress up like it’s the prom and have fun. What do you think?

  As soon as Nick had seen the message, he was in. The hopeless romantic inside of him, one that had stayed suppressed and silenced over his years of dating, was finally allowed to be free. Without it being weird or unwanted—he got to treat Katie like she was the protagonist in one of those films. This wasn’t going to be one of those casual dates that he’d gone on while he was in university, where Nick would pick up a guy and then maybe have a quick meal before fucking around. Nick was going to hold doors open for Katie, dress up nicely, and even drape a coat over a puddle so she could walk over it if it came to that. They rehashed all the dating clichés they could find and brainstormed a list of date ideas they could do.

  I found way too many things. Like mini-golf. Drive-ins. We’re going to have to take our time with this, Katie mentioned.

  As long as you’re game, I’m game, Nick wrote back. To some degree, both of them were highly aware of how ridiculous all of this was. Katie could very well hold her door open for herself or pull out her own chair, but they ran with it. It seemed like for the first time in both of their lives, they could really have fun with the typical idea of romance as it was depicted on the screen.

  The day of the date, Nick got a haircut and did all his laundry. He even ironed a couple of shirts before he finally decided on an old button-up collared shirt, and casual suit jacket with dark jeans that he often wore for job interviews or teaching assignments. He put on cologne, and with Tucker’s insistence, found some type of flower in the building’s garden and picked it while no one was looking so he could have something for his jacket. Then he walked to the bus stop fifteen minutes early so he’d make it to Katie’s building on time. He had to laugh when he saw his reflection in the bus’s window: his dark hair was cut and styled, his clothing was casual but sophisticated, and he was still taking a bus for a date. They were going to a chain restaurant that was walking distance from Katie’s place, too. It wasn’t the perfect fairy-tale image, but Nick certainly felt like a star as he walked to Katie’s building.

  Until he saw Katie, anyway.

  After buzzing him into the foyer of her building, she told him to wait for her by the elevators. As she stepped off, his breath caught in his throat. She wore a pink dress—more magenta than baby pink—with skinny straps that she covered with a white cardigan. Her brown hair was straightened down past her chest and it looked as if it had been trimmed recently. Dark liner framed her eyes, and a light-purple eye shadow offset her mascara and softened the look. Nick was sure she was wearing more makeup, but she had applied it so flawlessly that she looked good, instead of made-up. Her normal red purse had been replaced with a larger white and gold purse that she hung on her shoulder. Her heels were clunky and made her stand taller than Nick, but she was wearing them effortlessly. Her dress came to just past her knees, and this close, Nick could see the beginning of a thigh tattoo.

  “How do I look?” Katie paused slightly. “Good, right? I haven’t worn fucking heels in forever, and I think I might fall.”

  “You look great. And don’t worry about falling. I’ll catch you if you do.”

  Katie rolled her eyes at the remark, but she was still grinning. Nick bridged the gap between their bodies, extending his arm to her.

  “Ah, yes,” she said, taking his arm. “This is just the kind of romantic date I needed.”

  “Me too.” Nick led them towards the door.

  “Good evening,” a hostess with blonde hair greeted Nick and Katie. “Table for two? Is near the back okay?”

  “Yes,” Nick said. “That would be great.”

  The hostess led them to a table, and as promised, Nick held out Katie’s chair for her until she sat down. The hostess tilted her head at Nick, a quizzical look on her face. She departed a moment later, after informing them their waiter would be right with them. The restaurant was a small steakhouse. Their logo was brandished above the bar, in between the two TV sets that played some sports game. The lighting was low around the bar and in the back. They were close to the kitchen and an ornate fireplace that was bordered by horseshoes and lassos.

  “Sorry I couldn’t take you to a nicer place.” Nick extended his hand across the table, and was relieved when Katie slid her palm into his.

  “Are you kidding me? It’s not a pizza place. I think I’ve been eating Dunja’s leftover pizza since Saturday, or noodles, so this is a relief.”

  “I hear that.” Nick had pretty much been doing the same thing with Tucker’s leftovers (by which he had discovered that
number six from the Chinese restaurant was just as good as number four) and leftover macaroni and cheese so he could stretch out his dinner budget. After about five minutes of idle chatter over their menus, a tall, skinny kid who still had the face of a high school student came over.

  “All right. I’m Scott, and I’ll be your waiter for tonight. What can I get you guys?”

  Nick flinched at the word guys but quickly disregarded it. Katie’s nose was stuck in the menu, completely unaware. What does it matter? Nick reminded himself. It’s not like you have to see him again. Don’t let this ruin the night.

  They gave him their drink and entrée orders, because they were skipping appetizers for their budget. Nick ordered vegetarian lasagne while Katie ordered the steak and potatoes. Scott wrote the orders down and disappeared.

  “Is that okay?” Katie asked. “I know the steak is pretty steep price-wise, but I’ll cover it.”

  “No, no. I’ve got you.”

  “Then you have to let me give you dessert.”

  From the way Katie smiled, he could tell she didn’t mean the chocolate lava cakes advertised in the steakhouse’s menu. Nick nodded, but soon changed the topic so he didn’t have to think too much about Katie and him in compromising positions. They had to at least get through dinner first.

  “So,” Katie said, after they had pretty much exhausted all the small talk about both of their jobs and academic placements. Their drinks had come, but their meals were still being prepared. “Peter Gabriel or the Psychedelic Furs?”

  “We’re playing again?”

  Katie narrowed her eyes and folded her arms across her chest in a challenging stance.

  “Fine, fine. Peter Gabriel. Because I’m assuming you’re comparing ‘Pretty in Pink’—as a song—to ‘In Your Eyes’ from Say Anything.”

  “Nothing gets past you. I am. So well done.”

  “And you?” Nick asked.

  “‘Pretty in Pink.’ I’m sorry. With a band name like the Psychedelic Furs, I’m just sold.”