Finding Herself, Finding Love

3rd Grade

Melissa Wilson felt the sun on her face as she ran around the playground, excited for a new school year. She ran past a small boy sitting alone on a rock on the edge of the playground. She wondered why he was just sitting there as she turned to run back to him.

“Hey, why aren’t you playing with the other boys?” She asked inquisitively.

“They don’t like me,” he said glumly.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, they just don’t.”

Melissa paused to think before asking, “Why aren’t you playing with the girls then?”

“They wouldn’t like me either, boys have cooties,” he said, his frown deepening.

Melissa looked him up and down; she didn’t see any cooties. “Boys might have cooties, but you don’t. We should be friends. I’m Melissa.”

“I’m Desmond,” he said, looking up, beginning to smile.

“You’re it!” Melissa said, slapping him on the arm before running off.

7th Grade

“Hey, honey, how was school today?” Lara Wilson greeted her daughter as Melissa entered the dining room of their apartment after school had wrapped up for the week.

“It was ok, I guess. We talked about frog anatomy in science class; it was pretty gross, and we had a fire drill. Suzie and her stuck-up friends still won’t talk to me. I don’t see what’s so cool about being a rude jerk,” Melissa said, setting her backpack down and making for the adjoining pantry nook.

“I’m sorry, honey, they’ll grow out of it.”

“Oh! Mom, can Desmond come over and spend the night tomorrow night?” Melissa asked, sticking her head out of the pantry.

Lara got up from her chair and walked over to her daughter. “No, honey, that wouldn’t be appropriate. I guess you’re old enough now. There are things we need to talk about, about boys.”

“But Mom! He’s my best friend. Other kids get to have their best friends sleepover! Why can’t I?” Melissa protested.

“Let’s have a little talk, honey,” Lara said, ushering her daughter to the living room couch, before sitting down herself and gesturing to the couch for her daughter to sit down too. “So you mentioned learning about frog anatomy today…” Lara said, springboarding into an explanation of the broad strokes of human reproductive anatomy. The discussion of male anatomy was met with a chorus of “gross”es, and disgusted faces from Melissa.

Lara then moved on to reproduction and sex itself, at least the penis in vagina bits, because that’s the only part that counted in her mind. Which Melissa was equally unimpressed with. Lara then moved to the dangers of STDs. Wrapping up with since Desmond was a boy, it would be inappropriate for them to be alone overnight because of all the sex stuff she had just talked about.

Melissa objected, “Mom! That’s utterly disgusting! I would never do that with a boy, much less Desmond!” before storming off.

High School, Sophomore year

Desmond could feel someone following him as he crossed the school courtyard before he saw the shadow of his pursuer. “Hey there, runt!” Dexter said, towering over him. Desmond had always been small. Everyone assured him he’d get another growth spurt, catch up in height, and his shoulders would broaden out, but he didn’t think that would ever happen, and definitely not soon enough to help him now.

“Hi, Dexter, something I can help you with?” Desmond asked meekly.

“Yeah, yeah, there is. Let’s play 50 questions. Are you gay?” Dexter asked, leaning in until Desmond could feel his breath on his cheek.

“What? No! Why would you think that?”

“Well, if you’re not gay, why does nobody ever see you talking to any girls?” Dexter took a step forward, driving Desmond back.

“Mel… Melissa is a girl, and I talk to her all the time.”

Dexter nodded before continuing to question him. “Uh, huh, so she’s your girlfriend then?”

“Well, no…”, and then Desmond saw motion coming from across the courtyard, fast. While he was short for a guy, Melissa was tall for a girl. And right now, she was moving like a fury towards them. He saw her tilt her shoulder down as she ran, and started furiously mouthing “No” at her.

“No, what?” Dexter asked, as Melissa stuck her shoulder into his ribs and drove him back into the wall.

“Back off, and leave him the hell alone! Got it?” Melissa demanded, staring daggers at Dexter.

“What the fuck is your problem!? Got to protect your little boyfriend?” Dexter roared.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Dyke bitch!” Dexter said, pushing off the wall.

Desmond wasn’t sure how such a thing was possible, but Melissa got even angrier as she shifted her footing, preparing to trip Dexter if he moved towards her.

“Dexter Grant, you listen, and you listen good. If I ever hear even the slightest rumor of you saying homophobic shit, I will kick your ass so badly there will be rumors about it for a decade, and then I will tell the cheer team you hit me first. They will bury you. You will be untouchable. Do you understand me?” she said, with a cold fury never breaking eye contact.

“Ye.. yeah” was all Dexter could manage as he stumbled away.

“You ok?” Melissa asked, turning to Desmond, her anger still present in her face.

“Yeah, thanks. Uh, are you ok?” Desmond said, stunned at what he had just seen.

Taking a few slow, controlled breaths, Melissa calmed herself and said, “Yeah, getting there.”

“How did you learn to do that?”

“Huh? Oh, cheer team, I’m right there on the field, not much to do besides watch the game. I’ve seen enough tackles, you pick things up.”

“I should go to more football games then, I guess.”

“You should, it would give me somebody fun to talk to,” she said, with a smile.

High School, Spring of Junior year

Melissa scanned the hallway looking for Desmond, he should be passing by here to B Wing any moment, and yep, there’s that familiar mop of brown hair. Pushing her way up the flow of traffic, she made her way over to him. “Desmond!” she called out to him.

“Hey, Mel, uh, aren’t you supposed to be over in C Wing for math?”

“I am, but I need to talk to you. Follow me,” she said with an urgency that conveyed the seriousness of her request.

She led him into the library, to a back corner of the history section, hidden among the stacks that was hard to see unless you were right on top of it. Nobody ever went back there. She sat down, leaning against the back wall, and motioned to the floor next to her for Desmond to sit.

“So you’re like my best friend, right?” she asked as he sat down.

“Uh, yeah?” He replied.

“Go with me here, ok, and promise me you won’t freak out. Can you do that?”

“Uh, well, it probably would have been easier before you asked me not to freak out. I’m getting a bit freaked out, ya know?”

“Fair,” she said, taking a deep breath, steeling herself for what was coming next. “I’m gay.”

“Ok,” he said calmly.

“Ok? That’s it?” She asked, expecting a much worse reaction.

“Yeah? Did you want me to freak out? I can if you want me to.”

“Well, no… I don’t know… I expected a bit more fanfare. I’ve been worried you wouldn’t want to be friends with me cause of the whole lesbian thing.”

“Nope, still your best friend, Mel. I’m not trying to downplay your worries about this, but was that all you wanted to talk about?”

“Oh, uh, no. That was just the preface to the real part. I need your help. I want to ask Celeste Ortiz to go to prom with me, and I want to go big with asking her.”

Desmond’s face lit up. “A proper conspiracy, definitely worth skipping class for. So what parts of a plan do you have already? What do I need to know about her to help you pull this off? Do we have any other co-conspirators?” They spent the rest of the period planning, workshopping specific phrasings, and debating the merits of flowers. By the end of the day, they had the beginnings of a plan and a timeline of a week to work out the rest.

After school for the next few days, they went on shopping runs, put flowers in poster board, talked about timings, and different ways they could get Celeste into position. They even managed to get in a dry run on Thursday over lunch.

Friday came, and it was go time. Desmond saw Celeste making her way across the courtyard during lunch. He waved her down, “Hey, Celeste, Coach Bates asked me to ask you if you were free to help with something about inventorying practice mats.”

Celeste looked at him incredulously. “Coach Bates asked you to deliver a message for her?”

“Well, she actually asked Mel, and Mel asked me, but that was a whole complicated thing, and I figured explaining it would just make things more confusing.” Desmond smiled, trying to sell the bit.

“Sigh. Where do I need to go?”

“The supply closet by A15, here, just follow me.”

“And why didn’t Melissa just come find me herself?” Celeste asked as they set off.

“She didn’t say. She said she had something important she needed to do, and then dashed off,” Desmond said with a shrug.

As they approached the hallway of A wing, Desmond stepped down hard with his right foot and turned his foot, causing his shoe to make a loud squeaking noise on the plastic floor tiles. A second later, the music started as they rounded the corner to find Melissa down on one knee with a bouquet of roses in her hand next to a giant sign that said “Would you like to go to prom with me?” with the lettering made from flowers.

Celeste paused for a moment, gasped, and then ran forward, grabbed Melissa’s hands, and pulled her into a hug. Melissa wrapped her arms around Celeste and used the opportunity to flash Desmond a thumbs-up.

High School, Spring of Senior year

Melissa flopped with an undignified crash on the couch in the Thomson family living room. She looked at Desmond, who was already sitting in a chair on the opposite side of the coffee table. She let out a long breath before sitting up. “Should we start with the good news or the bad news?”

“Let’s rip the band-aid off,” Desmond said. “What’s the bad news?”

“Celeste got into Columbia. She thinks we shouldn’t bother even trying to make long-distance work.”

“Aww, Mel, that’s rough. Just like that, she's ready to throw it all away?”

“Apparently. High school relationships don’t have a great track record, but I was hoping she’d at least want to try.”

“Do you need a hug?”

Melissa looked up, trying to be stoic, but it wasn’t working, before hanging her head again. “Yeah, I could use that hug.”

Desmond embraced her, hoping the physical contact could dull the pain somewhat. “I’m sorry, Mel, you deserve better.”

They sat back down on the couch together, just letting their hips touch. “You said there was good news too?” Desmond asked.

“I got accepted to Oregon State, too,” she said with a mischievous grin.

Desmond paused for a moment, processing what she meant. “Oh, heck yeah, we’re not breaking up the dream team at least. With your trusty wingman at your side, you can definitely find a wonderful woman who will make you happy.”

“Don’t forget about yourself. I’ve got your back, we’ll find a gal for you too.”

College, Winter of Freshman year

Melissa and Desmond settled into a booth at the edge of the dining hall. “How’s winter term treating you so far?” Melissa asked.

“I have regrets I can barely put into words. If I was a lit major, I would have the words to compose a sonnet explaining my woes, but I also wouldn’t have them in the first place. Seriously, 8 a.m. Calc II is a special kind of hell I hope you never have to experience. But other than that, it's pretty good. Circuit Design is enjoyable, and makes the math slightly less horrific, at least I know what the math is used for. How about you?”

“Human anatomy is consuming my mind right now. There’s like 200 bones in the human body, and we’re expected to memorize all of them. Jade is slowly taking over our entire room with chem sticky notes. Every day I come home to have lost a few more inches to the steady march of the yellow sea. I expect my bed will be consumed before the end of the term. Pray for me, Desmond. How’s your roommate?”

“Uh… ya know, that’s a good question. I’m pretty sure he’s not dead. At least they haven’t sent me anything official-looking to that effect. I think he’s living with his girlfriend?”

“Oh, well, that’s convenient, you don’t have to coordinate if you want to bring a date back to your room.”

“Ha, come on, you know that’s not happening,” Desmond said, trying to shrink into the upholstery of the booth.

“I’m sorry, sore subject. I can back off, if you’d rather?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I just. I don’t know, look at me, Mel. I’m short, I’m 5’5” tops on a good day. I’ve got these narrow shoulders, this dainty little face, not much muscle to speak of. I like my hair longer, it’s almost down to my chin. I could fix that, I suppose, but that’s the thing I like most about me. I guess I could give it up to find a girl. I’m not exactly a catch here. I wouldn’t date me. Sigh. Sorry, I shouldn’t be unloading on you like this.”

“No, you should, in fact, be unloading on me like this. That’s what friends are for. You make it sound worse than it is. Not every woman is into tall guys; some like long hair. Your face is cute, even I can see that, and I’m not one to judge guys. You want me to put out some feelers for you? I know some women.”

“The women you know are gay.”

“Some are bi, and most have roommates.”

“Thanks, but let's move on from the tragedy that is my love life. You went out with… Bianca, last week, right? How was that?”

“Eh, I had a good enough time. I think that was more in the one-and-done category, but I’m ok with that. She was fun.”

“You have such problems.”

“Who said anything about problems? I am one hundred percent ok with working my way through the buffet of lesbians this school has to offer.”

College, Spring of Sophomore year

Desmond wasn’t sure exactly where the elephant came from, but that wasn’t the most pressing thing on his mind. He could hear it coming, thump, thump, thump, and he needed to not be here, now. Damn, it was fast, and not stopping, thump, thump, thump. Then darkness, when the light came back, Desmond was in his bed. Ok, good, no elephant, thump thump, thump, that’s the door. With a groan, Desmond rolled out of bed, took a few halting steps to the door, and pulled it open. “Good morning!” Melissa beamed at him.

“Mel, it is way too early to be this excited. It’s just way too early in general. Couldn’t you have just sent me a text?” Desmond said, standing in the doorway, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes.

“I did. You didn’t answer… because you were sleeping, but you’re awake now!” She said, bouncing on the arches of her feet.

“I am, regretfully, awake now. Come on in, tell me what’s up.”

Melissa sat on Desmond’s bed, still beaming. “I met a girl,” she said in a sing-song voice.

“Mel, I love you, you know I do, but you meet girls all the damn time. You’re keeping numbers up for both of us. That doesn’t seem like the sort of thing to wake me up on a Saturday morning like a crazy person about.”

“She’s different, Desmond! I think she might be the one.”

The last of the sleep Desmond was feeling was blasted away by that comment. “Ok, tea time! I’ll put the kettle on. Tell me all about her,” Desmond said, smiling almost as widely as his friend. As his illicit kettle started sputtering to heat, Desmond sat on his bed, crossing his legs, watching Melissa with anticipation.

“Ok, her name is Brooke. She’s a chem major, a junior. We’re taking a queer women in history course together. We’ve sat together every class, and gushed about our heroes. She’s beautiful, too. Beautiful green eyes, and her body, you know, I am a connoisseur of the female form. So trust me when I say she’s next level. She’s got the cutest little breasts, and this lithe little body that makes me feel things. Then last week I asked her out, we’ve gone on two dates so far, and I just know, Desmond, I just know.”

Desmond wrapped his arms around Melissa’s shoulders, hugging his friend. “Oh my god! Girl! I am so happy for you.” He really was happy for her; as much as he enjoyed hearing the tales of her dalliances, he was glad she was living her dreams. Desmond got up and poured the kettle into two mugs. “Tea for Tea,” he said, handing her a mug.

College, Junior Year, September

Melissa was excited as she carried the boxes into her new room, well, it was actually her and Brooke’s room. Oh, did she love the way that sounded. They had rented a three-bedroom house just off campus, well, not just them. They were going to be living with Desmond, Joel (another electrical engineering student Desmond was friends with), and Evie (Joel’s girlfriend). Splitting the rent five ways actually made it pretty affordable.

She had seen Joel moving boxes in already, but Desmond and the other women hadn’t moved in yet. As she was unpacking shirts, her phone buzzed. A text from Brooke, “Hey, babe, I’m here now. Can you come down and help me with some boxes?” Melissa dropped the shirt she was holding and sprinted for the door. In a flash, she saw Brooke standing next to her Subaru parked in the driveway, with the hatch open, boxes spilling out.

Melissa pulled Brooke into an embrace, letting the smell of her hair remind her of the woman she loved. She loved the way Brooke’s arms felt wrapped around her back; her body was just the right size for Melissa. “Darling, I have missed you so much. I am so glad to see you again. Let me show you to our room,” she said, excited that she got to say that.

“Yeah, Melissa, it’s good to see you too,” she said flatly, before leaning in to whisper, “I’m going to ride your face so hard tonight.” Melissa shuddered with anticipation.

They worked together unloading the boxes from Brooke’s car. Melissa brushed against Brooke a few times as they worked, and each time made her smile. They had talked on the phone over the summer, but this was different, being together in person engaged all the senses. This was going to be a good year, a very good year, the first of many to come.

Melissa was organizing pots and taking an inventory of what cookware they were going to have to work with this year. When she heard a familiar, excited voice. “Mel!” She turned to see Desmond coming down the hall with a duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. “This place is amazing, as good as I remember it from last year. You need any help? I’ll be back in a second, let me drop this bag off.”

A moment later, Desmond came back and sat on the edge of the table. “I think I saw Brooke’s car outside, but I haven’t seen her yet. Is she busy unpacking your room?”

“Oh, uh, no. She went to dinner with her parents.”

“Ah, well, I bet it is nice to see her again.”

“It is. We’re going to live together, I still can’t believe it,” Melissa said happily.

“What’s the state of the kitchen?”

Melissa and Desmond spent the next hour cleaning things that should have been cleaned by the previous tenants, and talking about the things they could make with the supplies they had. “Desmond, did you ever get your room unpacked?”

“No, I just got my overnight bag dropped off, then got pulled into the kitchen by the siren call of my bestie.”

“Oh no, don’t you try to blame this on me.”

“Blame you? Not at all, we had fun, it needed to be done. Thanks for reminding me I had more stuff to bring in,” Desmond said, starting towards the front of the house.

Melissa watched him walk away and then realized he wasn’t going to ask for help. Men can be so prideful sometimes. “Hey Desmond,” she called after him.

He stopped and turned. “Yeah, what’s up, Mel?”

She walked over to him and plopped her chin on the top of his head. “You need help moving those big, heavy boxes.”

Staring at Melissa’s throat, Desmond sighed, “You’ve made your point, come on.”

———

The first week of classes flew by. Desmond liked living with his friends. It was different than being in the dorms, it felt more like finally being a real adult. It was nice having Joel and Melissa around most evenings. ‘I bet Melissa loves having Brooke around all the time,’ he thought. Maybe this was going to be his year. Melissa had upped her campaign of threatening to drag him to parties, and he was pretty sure she had dragged Evie into her conspiracies.

Evie was the wild card of the house; she and Joel had started dating last year. They were so different, Joel was an electrical engineering student like Desmond. Evie was an art major, a painter. The dark, tight chin-length braids that framed the light brown skin of her face were often highlighted with splotches of paint from her most recent project.

Desmond was worried about what Melissa’s calculating mind could do with a co-conspirator with no inhibitions. He was doomed, but it was probably going to be a fun doom.

He looked up just in time to see Joel and Evie slip out of their bedroom. “Hey, we’re headed to Kappa’s big kick-off party, you should join us,” Evie said enthusiastically.

Desmond glanced at Joel, who offered a bit more restrained endorsement, “It’ll be fun, drinks, dancing, new people.” Desmond understood that by people he meant women. He was reluctant, but new year, new Desmond. This year wouldn’t be any different if he didn’t put in the effort.

“Ok, I’m sold. Should we tell Mel where we’re headed?” Desmond asked.

“Nah, she’s a big girl, she’ll be fine, and when Brooke gets home, they’ll be happy to have the place to themselves,” Joel said, wiggling his eyebrows.

The party got off to a good start; Desmond enjoyed the music and saw a few faces he recognized. Evie goaded Joel and Desmond into playing beer pong. They were both terrible. They gave up and called it a tie.

“Joel, dance with me,” Evie said, draping herself on his shoulder, a bit intoxicated, before pulling him off to the dance floor.

Desmond looked around for something to anchor himself to so he wasn’t just standing awkwardly in the middle of the lawn. He made his way over to the bar. He knew that if he was going to talk to any women tonight, he’d need to see who was around and wasn’t already talking to someone. But didn’t want to be ‘that guy’. He didn’t want to give off predator vibes and make anyone feel uncomfortable. Desmond's meditation was disrupted by a slurring voice.

“Hiiii, cuuuuutie, are you here with anybody?”

Desmond looked up to see an Asian woman staring at him from behind a red solo cup.

“No, um, I’m not here with anybody,” he said, caught off guard that she was both speaking to him and still able to stand.

“Greaaaat, you wanna… go somewhere else with me?” She said, stumbling forward, putting her free hand on his shoulder.

“I think you might be slightly intoxicated.” ‘That was the understatement of the night,’ Desmond thought.

“Yeaaaah, I drank, and now I want dick.”

Desmond sighed internally. Unfortunately, what she needed was water and to get home safely.

“Let’s get you some water,” Desmond said, rummaging through coolers looking for bottled water, and finding none.

“I don’t want water,” she said, pounding her drink, dropping her cup, and fumbling with the button of Desmond’s pants.

‘This wasn’t working,’ Desmond thought, ‘time for a change of tactics.’

“Alright, baby, where do you live?” He cooed.

“I’m in Bloss Hall, you wanna see my room?” She said with a sloppy smile.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Desmond guided the drunk girl back to her dorm, doing his best to keep her hands from going truly inappropriate places. In the dorm, he started to make his way to the front desk. “No, no, the up thingy is over that way,” she said, gesturing the other direction.

“Don’t worry, beautiful, I’m going to take good care of you,” He said, trying his best to sound sultry.

When they got to the front desk, Desmond looked at the resident assistant on duty. “Hi, sorry to bother you, I think she’s one of yours, not sure what room, but she’s plastered, needs water, and probably will need someone to hold her hair in a bit.”

The woman behind the desk looked puzzled for a moment, and then realized what she was seeing. “Thank you for being better than most guys,” she said, coming around to help support the drunk woman.

“Hey, back off, Renee. I saw him first, he’s mine,” the drunk girl said to the RA, who was pulling her off Desmond’s shoulder.

“Uh, I’m nothing special, sorry, most guys are predatory shit goblins. Good luck with her,” he said, turning to leave.

—

Half an hour later, he was back home. ‘Alright, looks like the lights at the front of the house are on, bedrooms are dark,’ he thought. He opened the front door, but didn’t step inside. “Hi, ladies, I’m home. I’m going to count to ten before I come inside. Please tell me to stop if I need to. One, Two—”

“It’s just me, Desmond, and I’m fully clothed. You can come in now!” Melissa yelled from the living room.

Desmond felt a bit awkward about his overproduced entrance as he made his way to the living room and plopped down in his traditional chair opposite the couch. “I expected Brooke to be here, and you two to be, you know, doing girlfriend stuff.”

“No, she’s working late on something in the lab tonight. Apparently, senior chem labs are intense. What have you been up to tonight?”

“Joel and Evie dragged me to the Kappa party.”

“Fun! Did you meet anyone?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows at Desmond.

“Kind of, there was a girl, but… she was drunk, like really drunk, like literally falling on me drunk. I got her back to her dorm and dropped her off with an RA.”

“Awww, Desmond, you’re a good guy, you’re going to make some woman really happy someday.”

“Thanks, Mel, you’re the second person to tell me I’m a good guy tonight. I’m not. The rest are just pretty terrible. You made the right choice with the whole being gay thing.”

“It wasn't a choice, Desmond.”

“You know what I mean.”

She did know what he meant and felt a bit sad for her friend.

“You don’t have to compare yourself to other guys; you’re not like them, you’re not responsible for them. Someday you’ll find someone who sees you for who you are, and loves who you are.”

College, Junior Year, October

“Come on, babe, please don’t go, stay here in bed with me,” Melissa pleaded with Brooke.

“I have work to do, ok? I love your body, but I’m here to graduate. School comes first,” Brooke said, pushing Melissa’s arm off her.

“Please, my birthday is Tuesday, and I know you’re busy then, so I wouldn’t ask you to spend time with me then. But I was hoping you could spend today with me. One Saturday morning of cuddling isn’t going to ruin your GPA.”

“We had sex last night. And now it’s work time. We can have sex again on Tuesday,” Brooke said, pulling up her pants.

They did technically have sex last night, but they focused solely on pleasuring Brooke. Melissa told herself that Brooke was stressed. Brooke needed to get off more than she did. She convinced herself this term would pass, and things would go back to how they were last spring. She tried to focus on the good parts: Brooke was gorgeous and loved her.

“You’re right. What time are you going to be home tonight?” Melissa asked, deflating a bit.

“I don’t know, probably late,” Brooke said, pulling on her shirt and striding toward the door.

Melissa heard the door close and broke down crying. Was this the same woman she met last year? Melissa remembered how happy Brooke used to be seeing her. How they raged about gay liberation, and never letting the world wear them down. Melissa felt worn down. It’s not like she could break up with Brooke, they lived together, they slept in the same bed. She’d just have to make this work; maybe after graduation, she’d find the woman she loved again.

—

Some time passed, Melissa wasn’t sure how much, or how much of it she spent sleeping, and how much she spent crying. Then she heard a knock on her bedroom door. “Yes?” She croaked.

“It’s Desmond, are you ok in there? You sound kind of sick. You need me to raid the pill box, or bring you some soup?”

“Desmond, come on in. I think I need somebody to talk to.”

He could hear the pain in her voice before he opened the door, and then he saw her face, red and tear-streaked. He was by her side in an instant.

“Mel, what’s wrong? What happened?” He asked, wrapping his arms around her without asking permission. She didn’t mind. He was her best friend, the person whose arms she second most wanted to be wrapped around her right now. And he was a similar size to Brooke. He felt like her, but less sexy, and more comfy.

“Brooke and I fought, but it wasn’t really a fight. I wanted her to stay and spend time with me. But she said she had to go to the lab. I know she has work to do, and it’s hard, and she needs it for her future… she needs it more than she needs me.” Melissa broke down crying again. She wanted to be wanted, to be Brooke’s first choice.

Desmond began to rock her gently. “Mel, it’s her loss. You’re a wonderful person. If she chooses not to see that, that’s her problem.”

“Desmond, can you just hold me for a bit?”

“What are best friends for, if not to help you hold it together when you need it most?” he said, leaning his head on her shoulder, moving his arms down to her waist, careful to avoid her breasts as he repositioned. They just stayed like that in silence for a while.

Melissa eventually broke the silence. “Thanks, Desmond. I needed that. Sometimes, I think about how much simpler my life would be if you were a woman.” Realizing what she just said, she quickly added, “Sorry, that’s really weird. You’re the best friend a gal could ask for, and I’m just a bit of a mess this morning. Let’s get some food in us, then maybe I can be a functional person.”

‘Yeah, that was weird,’ Desmond thought, unsettlingly weird, like something was wrong. Desmond continued to ponder. He was obviously a guy. He had the body of a guy. He had been born a guy. It’s not like he had any choice in the matter. Why did that bother him so much, he wondered. He concluded it didn’t matter, thinking about it just made him uncomfortable. He pushed the thoughts from his mind.

“Leftovers? Or we could go to The Griddle, and we can drown your sorrows in pancakes?”

“How are you single? You know the way to a girl’s heart,” she said, throwing off her blanket, standing up naked with no concern about Desmond being there. Desmond saw her start to move and knew he needed to look away. So he found a very interesting portion of the wall to study. He had never quite appreciated the texture of that particular portion of wall before.

“You know, you don’t have to look away. I’m the gay one here, not you.”

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You don’t make me feel uncomfortable, you’re my bestie, my comfort person. But if you’re dead set on being noble, you can grab some pants for me,” she said, pulling up her bra straps.

———

Melissa came home on Tuesday with an ache in her heart. She knew Brooke wasn’t going to be waiting for her and wasn’t going to spend time with her on her birthday. She scolded herself; she should have gotten over this already. She hadn’t planned anything with Desmond because she’d secretly hoped that Brooke would come around. Her pity party was interrupted by an enthusiastic yell from the dining room, “Happy birthday, Mel! Sorry, but I seem to have misplaced your cake under all this Indian food someone left on the table,” Desmond called as he saw her pass down the hallway.

“Ah, Desmond, you didn’t have to do this for me.” ‘He really was too good for her,’ she thought, ‘he deserves to have someone who can love him back when he does stuff like this.’

“I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. The food is good, and so is the company. Sounds like a win-win to me.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be very good company tonight, but thanks for dinner,” she said, sitting down at the table.

“Then I’ll just have to pick up the slack. So what are you most excited for in the next year?”

“I’m looking forward to the end of the year. I’m hoping that after graduation, Brooke will be less stressed, and we can spend more time together.”

“I hope so too, you deserve to be happy.”

As they ate and chatted, Melissa’s mood improved. She was glad to have Desmond in her life. As dinner wrapped up, they put leftovers and dishes away, then Desmond produced a single strawberry cupcake with a candle in the middle. “I found our wayward cake,” he announced.

“Do you want to split it?” Melissa asked.

“Nah, all for you,” Desmond said, with a smile.

———

A week later inevitably caught up with Melissa. “I can’t take the neediness anymore, ok? I’m here to study, and you’re a distraction and an annoyance I don’t need in my life,” Brooke said to Melissa in the kitchen, loudly. ‘She didn’t even have the decency to do this behind closed doors,’ Melissa thought as her tears began to flow. “If you ever cared about me at all, you’ll help me move out next weekend because I shouldn’t be wasting my precious time cleaning up the mess you’re trying to make of my life.”

The door to Joel and Evie’s room flew open. “Brooke, that’s bullshit, and you know it, you bitch! I’ll help you move, not because I like you, but because Melissa shouldn’t have to endure you any longer, and I want you out of my house, too,” Joel yelled, barreling into the living room. Evie followed, giving Brooke a cold look but saying nothing.

“I don’t have time for your stupid drama!” Brooke said, storming out.

Joel and Evie retreated back to their room, closing the door behind them.

Melissa kept crying. She thought Brooke was the one. She thought she’d gone on her last first date. That it was finally time for happily ever after. But then it all shattered, and she was alone. She wished Desmond was here. She needed him to hold her and tell her the world wasn’t ending. The world was definitely ending.

———

Desmond left the library shaking his head. He missed Circuit Design; it was simple, it was easy, it was a physical process. System Design was a whole other beast. They were getting software in his physics, he wasn’t a fan. A short, crisp walk later, he got home and noticed the front door was ajar; that was weird. Closing the door behind him, he started towards his room. But stopped when he heard someone crying in the living room. He turned to look in the doorway, but didn’t see anyone.

Stepping into the room, he saw Melissa’s leg over the edge of the couch. “Hey, Mel—”, then he saw her in full; she was curled up in a ball, knees pulled to her chin, shivering. He dropped to his knees in front of the couch and wrapped his arms around as much of her as he could. “It’s going to be ok, Mel, whatever it is, you’ll survive, you’re strong. I’ll be here.”

Melissa cried for a few more minutes, trying to form words. Eventually, she croaked out, “She left.” Desmond squeezed her tight, acknowledging her words.

After what seemed like an eternity, Melissa said, “I’m sorry, Desmond. I’ve just been a mess lately.”

“Nah, you’ve been my best friend lately. Do you want to sit up?” Melissa nodded. Desmond helped her sit up on the couch and sat next to her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“We fought, like really fought. She said I was a distraction and an annoyance she didn’t need, and she was leaving,” Melissa sniffled. “Then Joel came out and yelled at her. He was taking my side, but it still scared me a bit to see him like that. I thought she was the one, Desmond. She was so different last year, she was more relaxed and interested in me. Something changed over the summer. I didn’t want to admit it, but I guess there’s no point denying it now.”

“You’re still you, Mel, that’s what’s important. You didn’t abandon the wonderful person you are. We’ll find someone who adores you.”

“I wanted to help you this year. It was supposed to be your turn to find somebody who makes you happy.”

“Don’t worry about me, worry about yourself.”

“Could you just be selfish for like five minutes?”

“I guess I could if you want me to.”

“Desmond, sweetie, I think you’re missing the point. I don’t think it counts as being selfish if you need someone else’s permission.” Then she smiled. “Was this your plan? To be so ridiculously Desmond that I forgot my own problems?”

“No, but I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Alright, we’re going to put me back together, then it’s the year of Desmond.”

“You sure?”

“I think I need a break, and I owe you, like a lot at this point.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Mel.”

“I’m emotionally vulnerable here, Desmond. Don’t argue with me.”

“I don’t think th— you’re a good friend, Mel.”

“You too.”

—

That night, Desmond was settling into bed when there was a knock at the door, followed by a soft, sad, “Desmond?” Desmond rolled out of bed in his T-shirt and boxers and cracked open his door.

“You ok, Mel?”

She looked down, ashamed. “I’m just being selfish, again. Brooke came back and kicked me out of our bed. Can I sleep in your bed?”

“Yeah,” Desmond said, opening the door, then turned to dig an extra blanket out of his closet.

“Thanks, sweetie, but I don’t need an extra blanket.”

“Uh, it’s for me,” Desmond said, walking towards the door. Melissa felt her shame deepen. He’s doing it again, he’s putting himself second, for me.

“Desmond, I wasn’t kicking you out of your own bed.”

“But—”

“‘I’m gay, and you’re a guy.’ I’ve heard that part before. Just because I need a place to sleep doesn't mean you need to give up yours.”

Desmond relented, closed the door, and climbed into his own bed. Melissa wrapped her arm across his chest and pulled him in tight, nuzzling his neck. “Goodnight, Brooke,” she said dreamily.

Desmond sighed inwardly. This really would be easier if he was a woman. The weird wrongness deep in him mixed with the shame he was feeling, and he cried himself to sleep.

A week later, Brooke was gone for good, and Melissa had her bed back.

College, Junior Year, November

“In honor of the ruined messes we call our love lives, I christen this the first weekly romcom night,” Melissa said, popping the cork on a cheap bottle of red wine, then pouring two glasses. Desmond lifted his glass and clanked it on her wine glass before taking a big swig. It was cheap, he didn’t feel bad not savoring it.

Desmond set his wine glass down and snuggled into Melissa’s side, resting his head on her shoulder. She was glad that he had gotten over the whole guy, lesbian thing. She liked the way that he felt cuddled up with her; he felt safe. As much as she loved the way he felt pressed against her, she wanted him to have someone he could be with fully, without holding back, and she wasn’t that person.

They settled into a new normal without Brooke. Melissa still grieved, Desmond still ached for his grieving friend, but time was healing them both. November led into finals, and then into Thanksgiving break.

———

Melissa knocked once on the door of her mother’s apartment before letting herself in.

“Hi, Mom, I’m back!” Melissa said, striding down the short hallway to the living room.

“Welcome home, honey. Do you need help unloading the car?” Lara asked.

“Nope, traveling light,” she said, tossing her backpack on a chair before joining her mother on the couch.

“How was the drive?”

“Less bad than I expected. I got out early, it didn’t rain, and somehow people have learned to drive since September.”

“That’s good. Want me to get you something to drink?”

“Mom, we do this every time I come home. I’m an adult, I can get my own drinks.”

“I’m still your mother. It's my job to worry about you, even if the pay is worse than working at the Food Mart.” This prompted a chuckle from Melissa. “So how are Brooke and Desmond doing?”

“Uh, well… Brooke and I broke up about a month ago; she moved out. I kind of forgot to tell you, I was too busy being broken up about breaking up. But don’t worry, Desmond brought his A game, and I’m all sorted out now. He needs to find a girlfriend like last week. I’m all for seducing beautiful women to the dark side with the offer of amazing sex, but some of them are dedicated to denying themselves. If they’re going to do that, they should at least date a legitimately kind, caring guy like Desmond.”

“Haven’t you been trying to set him up with a girlfriend for years?”

“I’m stubborn, and he deserves it.”

College, Junior Year, December

The beginning of winter term was met with more wine and movie nights, and then Christmas break.

Desmond’s phone rang. He looked down at it, smiled, and answered, “Hey, bestie!” Melissa’s voice rang joyfully from the phone.

“Hey, Mel, what’s up?”

“You want to escape your parents a bit and grab coffee with me?”

“Yeah.”

They met up a bit later at a nearby Starbucks. They traded fresh family gossip, lamented how weird it felt being back in a place that was no longer home. They both thought of the house in Corvallis as home now. As the conversation was wrapping up, Melissa fished a small box out of her cargo pants.

“Here, I got you something.”

Desmond looked at her skeptically. In the twelve years they’d known each other, neither had gotten the other a Christmas gift.

“I didn’t get you anything, sorry.”

“It’s actually for both of us, open it,” she encouraged Desmond, holding out the box.

Desmond opened the box and saw sitting on a velvet backing were a pair of necklaces, two halves of a heart saying “Best Friends Forever”.

“I… I’ve never owned jewelry before,” Desmond said, taken aback. He set the box on the table and held out his arms for a hug. Melissa stepped into his hug and wrapped her arms around his back.

“Merry Christmas, bestie. So, uh, do you want the left or right half?”

“I, um, I don’t know how this works. Does it matter?”

“No, but it’s a gift for you, so I figured you should pick.”

“I’ll take the left, I guess… I’ve never put on a necklace before. Can you help me with the clasp?” Melissa lifted the left necklace out of the box, undid the clasp, reached behind Desmond’s neck, and refastened it. Then took the right necklace out of the box and showed him how the clasp worked.

“Alright, stand behind me and watch,” she said, pushing her hair out of the way and bringing the two sides of the clasp to the back of her neck, and then fastening them where Desmond could see. “I’ll see you at home in a couple of weeks. Call me if you need to escape, or want to do something for New Year’s.”

“I’ll see you when we get home. Actually, it sounds like you don’t have New Year’s plans. You want to head home early, load up on wine, and do a New Year's movie marathon?”

“Oh, that is a good idea, count me in,” Melissa said, giving Desmond a parting hug before leaving.

———

Desmond was the second to get home because he made a pit stop to pick up wine. He pulled into the driveway, made his way to the front door, and yelled inside, “Hey Mel, could I borrow those big muscley arms of yours!?”

Melissa trotted out of the house to Desmond’s car to grab the wine. As she passed him, she said, “Welcome home.” Opening the back seat of the car added, “Ohhh, box wine, we’re drinking classy tonight.”

“You know it, only the best for the best friends ever,” Desmond said. They made their way back into the house, setting the boxes of wine up on the kitchen counter, and each poured themselves a glass. Melissa sat in her usual spot on the corner of the couch, and Desmond snuggled down next to her.

“I like this,” she said, “you feel like comfort when you lean on my shoulder like that. I like Joel and Evie. They’re good roommates, but I like that it’s just us tonight. We can just be. No having to worry how others see us, what other people expect us to be.”

“I’m glad you feel comfortable around me. I like that. You’re the person I’ve felt most comfortable around for a while now, at least the last few years. And yeah, I do sometimes worry what Joel and Evie think of me. Some sort of devious monster playing the long game to seduce his forbidden lesbian best friend. You know I’d never hurt you, much less want to hurt you.”

“I know, I’ve known for years. Desmond, you’re like no other guy I’ve ever met. Is it weird that I think of you as one of the girls? I don’t think other people see you that way, but I do, unless you don’t want me to.”

“It’s a little weird, but I understand. I appreciate your trust in me, and hope to always live up to it.”

While Desmond did appreciate the intended compliment, there was that unsettling feeling again; something was wrong, but Desmond didn’t know what it was. His body was clearly that of a man. He didn’t think it mattered how he acted. Whatever she saw, he knew it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. No one else would ever see him that way. He pushed the thoughts away again. Before the pause in conversation lasted too long, he quickly added, “So what are we watching first tonight?”

Three movies and two boxes of wine later, it was midnight. Melissa raised her glass in a toast, “It’s the year of Desmond. May he lead his best, most fulfilling life this year.”

College, Junior Year, January

Joel and Evie got back on the Sunday before classes started. Melissa was waiting for them in the living room. “Hey, Evie, when you get done unpacking your car, could you help me with something?”

“Sure, Melissa, give me half an hour or so.”

“Don’t rush on my account.”

A bit later, Evie wandered back to the kitchen, and they made a bit of small talk about their holiday adventures.

“That’s actually a good segue into what I wanted to talk to you about. Desmond and I binged romcoms and wine on New Year’s Eve. Probably more wine than we should have, but such is life.

“Anyway, at midnight, I made a toast to helping Desmond live his best life. He’s had my back for years, introducing me to women, talking me up, giving me pre-date pep talks. It’s about time I returned the favor. Do you know anybody I could set him up with? He’s looking for somebody sensitive who can care about him as a person. Being the saint that he is, he’s not really picky about looks. He’s looking for that emotional connection. Doesn’t need to be somebody that’ll jump right in bed with him, but if you know anybody looking for some quick fun, that might not be bad either. Get him a quick win and a confidence boost.”

“I’ll keep an ear out and mull on it a bit. I’ll let you know if I come up with anybody promising.”

“Thanks, Evie.”

Wednesday afternoon, Evie knocked on Melissa’s door. “Hey, are you free to talk about that project you’re working on?”

“Yeah, come on in,” Melissa said, then continued after the door closed, “so what’d you hear?”

“My friend Lacy has a roommate, Paige, who was seeing this real athletic guy back in November. It didn't work out. He was kind of a jerk, shocker, I know. Anyway, word from Lacy is she’s ready to get out there again and find a nice sensitive guy who will treat her well. Sound like anybody we know?”

“Yeah, I think I know a guy. Can you get me Lucy’s number so we can start organizing this? Maybe we can make next Friday work.”

———

Friday evening, Desmond looked at his watch as he paced up and down the sidewalk in darkness. Six twenty, he had ten minutes to pull himself together and walk a little over one hundred feet. He could do this. He thought about the silver chain hanging around his neck, his link to Mel. She’d be right there with him. Ok, what would Mel do? Something charming, and women would fall all over her. Ok, but what charming thing? He took a deep breath. No, he wasn’t Mel. He was going to be his best self; he was going to be the kind ear, the person who listens, the one ready to ride shotgun at a moment's notice. Enough stalling, Desmond headed for Spud’s Pizza and opened the door.

Desmond scanned the room, but he didn’t see any freckled redheads sitting obviously by themselves. He took a second pass before he convinced himself he got there first. He walked over to the bar, grabbed a stool near the door, and waited; occasionally glancing at the door. A few moments later, he heard a light, feminine voice behind him. “Excuse me, are you Desmond?” He turned and smiled. Red hair, cute freckles, probably Paige.

“I am. Are you Paige?”

“Yeah, do you want to grab a table?”

“Absolutely, I think the left side over there’s a bit more subdued,” He said, gesturing towards the far side of the room. “It might be easier to talk. Shall we?” Paige nodded as they set out for a table near the far wall that was relatively quiet.

“We could start with the cliché, ‘so tell me about yourself?’ But I think I’ve got enough background to ask a better question. You’re a friend of Evie’s, so I’m guessing you’re an artist. So tell me about your art?” Desmond asked.

“Oh, very well deduced,” Paige said, as an approving smile spread across her face. “I make three-dimensional pieces, mostly metal sculpture. I’ve done some robotic pieces in the past; those are a bit more of a challenge, not really my area of expertise. But you’ve got to stretch to make art.” She considered him a moment as she thought, “You know Evie’s boyfriend, so I’d guess you’re an engineer?”

“Well, deduced to you too, I am an electrical engineer.” Desmond grinned, not expecting her to offer her own guess. “I design, well, I’m learning to design, the important parts of computers, so the comp sci folks can take credit for working miracles.”

“I’ve never thanked a programmer for a well designed servo controller.” She winked at him.

“Oh…” He was caught off guard, women didn’t usually flirt with him. “Not sure if you knew, but there’s a bit of a friendly rivalry between the departments. We both know the other couldn’t get by without us, except the C.S. folks are wrong.”

Desmond was surprised by how open he was being and how easily the conversation flowed. He had come in expecting a disaster, but this was fun.

“I had no idea inter-department politics was a thing for the engineers. It’s funny what you can learn by talking to people. So, should we order food, or just sit here talking all night?”

“Why not both? Order food now, and then we can talk until they kick us out.”

“Oh, look at you, Mr. Confident, you think we can just talk for six hours solid?"

“All I’ve heard about your art so far is that it’s metal, and sometimes moves. I’m sure you’ve got six hours of cool art talk in there. That’s without even talking about the other parts of your life. I’m sure you do things other than make cool art. We’re at a restaurant, so I’m guessing you eat.”

“All I’ve heard about you is a bit of nerd politics. There’s probably some good stories there. I’m guessing you also do other things with your life.”

“See, six hours is easy. How do you feel about the pesto chicken pie? Paired with a nice red wine?” Desmond asked with confidence. To his surprise, Paige seemed to like the person he was. He didn’t have to try to pretend to be Melissa. He didn’t have to try to pretend to be the sort of guy he thought women liked. He was happy to just be for a while.

“Oh, a wine guy? I’ve never dated a classy guy before.” Paige said, leaning forward, smiling. Desmond didn’t think he felt like a classy guy, but was glad she seemed to like things about him.

An hour later, they were on their second glass of wine, with a half-eaten pizza in front of them. Their discussion had moved through a lot of the easy getting to know each other items. They were both juniors, Paige was also a fan of romantic comedies, their music tastes differed, but they had shared suggestions that the other liked.

By the second hour of their night, Paige was smiling broadly as Desmond recounted his misadventures of his time living in the dorms. They both had a good laugh about how serious the men’s wing Desmond lived in last year took their hallway bowling league. Paige talked about how the practical need to wear overalls and concealing clothing while working with metals led her to adopt a hyperfeminine style when not making art. Desmond was enthralled by the discussion, Paige was surprised by how invested he was.

Over the next hour, they drank another glass of wine, as Paige’s hand crept more and more conspicuously across the table as she told embarrassing stories about her cousins growing up.

“Hey Desmond, I’m running out of arm here. You want to meet a girl halfway here?” She said, glancing at her hand extended most of the way across the table.

“Oh, I didn’t want to be presumptuous. I guess I should have asked somewhere around the story about your cousin falling out of the truck.” Desmond said, taking her hand. She stroked the back of his hand with her thumb.

“I was worried that you weren’t feeling as good about our time together as I am.”

“I’m having a good time. I’m just not used to feeling this comfortable around people.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re a bit shy. If you were more outgoing, some other woman would have found you first,” she said, winking at him.

They carried on chatting until it was closing in on midnight. “How about that? This is the longest first date I’ve ever had,” Paige said, studying Desmond’s face. She was pretty sure his blue eyes were her favorite feature. “You want to come back to my apartment?”

“Definitely the best first date I’ve ever had,” Desmond said, while thinking that the bar wasn’t set very high, but it really was a very enjoyable evening. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m not really the dive into bed on a first date kind of person.”

“I didn’t think you were. But you can’t fault a girl for trying.”

“How about a second date, and a good night kiss?” Desmond asked, unsure where the boldness he was feeling came from.

“Let’s talk details. Tongue or no tongue?”

“I, uh, I assumed without, but if you’re asking, I wouldn’t say no.” He thought he probably would have said no, but she seemed to like him and wanted to push things forward physically. Desmond assumed she was more used to guys being the ones to set the pace and pressure her. All the more reason for him not to be like that.

“You’re a good guy, I shouldn’t tease you, but it is pretty fun. So, when and where were you thinking for that second date?”

“I, uh, don’t really know your schedule all that well. What would— How about Wednesday at the Thai Garden?”

Paige laughed. “Hey, you got there in the end. I don’t think I’ve ever dated a guy as considerate as you, it’s cute. That works for me. How about we slip out to the parking lot, where there isn’t an audience for that good night kiss?”

“After you, madam,” Desmond said, bowing and pointing to the door in a sweeping gesture.

“Now you’re teasing me?”

“Just trying to be considerate.” Desmond wondered, is this what guys did on dates? Is this what women expected? It didn’t feel great, but Paige seemed to like it. He missed the casualness earlier, when he didn’t have to try to live up to expectations.

In the dim light of the parking lot, Desmond didn’t see Paige roll her eyes before grabbing his head and pulling his lips to hers. He felt her tongue enter his mouth and sweep across his tongue before she pulled back.

“Good night, Desmond. Drive safe, I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

“Good night, Paige. It was nice meeting you. I’m looking forward to Wednesday.”

“Offer’s still open, you could come with me.” She said over her shoulder as she walked to her car.

“No, thank you,” Desmond said, turning towards his car, wondering if there was a polite way to turn down sleeping with someone. He hoped his ‘no thank you’ was polite enough. He texted Melissa to let her know he was headed home before driving off in the night.

—

When he got home, he found Mel, Evie, and a large pot of tea waiting for him in the kitchen. “Hey Desmond, tea for tea?” Melissa called from the kitchen table, grinning.

“I think I usually let you get a night’s sleep before serving the tea, but pour it up,” he said, sitting down at the table, taking the mug offered to him. “I had a really good time. We talked the whole time. Her art seems really cool. She mostly does metal sculptures, but sometimes incorporates actuated elements. I need to remember to ask her what SBCs she uses next time I see her. Oh! She's another romcom fan, sorry, Mel, you might be dethroned as my movie buddy.”

“I’d be ok with that. I’m glad you had a really good night. I, uh, can’t help but notice it’s after midnight, so you really just talked the whole time?” Melissa was glad that his date seemed to have gone well. She was glad he seemed to have found someone who appreciated him. She knew it was too early to consider it inevitable that their relationship would last, but she was confident in Desmond’s ability to be a kind, endearing person.

“Mostly, we held hands a lot, and we ended the night with a kiss. She asked me to come back to her apartment, but I don’t think I’m the sex on a first date kind of person. We’ve got a second date scheduled for Wednesday, and I’m looking forward to it.”

“Oooh, a second date, I’m looking forward to hearing about it. Don’t feel bad about not hopping in bed with her. It’s not your style. Don’t change who you are to meet the expectations of others. Find the person who likes you as you are,” Melissa said.

“I’ll take the advice of my dating mentor to heart.”

“I’m your dating mentor now? I would have prepared more sage advice if I knew I had such an important role.”

“Oh, come on, like you didn’t know you’ve been my go-to relationship advice person for years. Hey, Evie, thanks for helping arrange this, too. I appreciate it.”

“Glad you had a good time. She seems like a nice gal. I hope you bring each other a lot of happiness," Evie said.

They made idle chit chat and finished their tea before adjourning for the night to their respective rooms.

—

Wednesday came, and Desmond found Paige waiting in the lobby of the Thai Garden.

“Oh, wow,” Desmond said, seeing her, she seemed even more beautiful than the first time they met. She was wearing a black sleeveless blouse with a rose floral pattern that wrapped her body in blooms of pink and thorned vines. Desmond’s gaze moved down to her short black leather skirt and the two soft pale legs below it. Her legs disappeared into a pair of black leather boots that came up to the middle of her shin.

“Hey, Desmond, it’s nice to see you too,” she said, with a large smile, happy that her outfit had the intended effect. She stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

They got seated, talked about appetizers and drinks until their waiter arrived to get their order. As he departed, Paige asked, “So what'd you do with your weekend?”

“Well, I started my weekend off with a date with this beautiful artist, who seems pretty cool and has good taste in movies. Then, after that, my roommates ambushed me with tea and wanted to know all about our date. It’s a thing we do, whenever somebody goes on a date worth gossiping about, the idea is that as long as you’re drinking tea, you can be honest and not be worried about judgment. Then, on Sunday, I had to be a responsible adult and write an essay about historic ethical failures in engineering. How about you?”

“Hmm, I went on a date with this really sweet, kind of reserved guy. I got accosted by my cat, Meatloaf, when I got home. He was very jealous that I was spending time with another guy. Saturday, I spent all day at the laundromat, exciting stuff. Sunday was also a workday for me, but I think my work was a bit more fun, unless you really like ethics. I’m working on a phoenix made from recycled industrial steel.”

“Your Sunday definitely sounds like more fun.”

“You want to come hang out with me while I work sometime?”

“Yeah, I’d love to see your studio and projects.”

They continued to laugh and chat through dinner. When the waiter asked about dessert, Paige requested a pot of tea.

Desmond watched the waiter drop off their pot of tea as Paige poured two cups and slid one towards him. “Hmm, I don’t think I’ve ever spilled the tea on a date during the date. Well, I suppose Tea for Tea,” he said, picking up the cup and looking expectantly at Paige.

“Do you want to come back to my apartment tonight?”

“I think I do. I’m worried I won’t live up to your expectations. I, uh, I’ve never slept with anyone before. I think you’re beautiful, we’ve had fun so far. I think I’d prefer to wait for a third date, or later, but you seem to be very ready to move things forward. You seemed to like it when I was bold on Friday, so I’m going to be bold again and see how things work out. I really don’t want to mess things up.”

“I like this. I like that you do this. It’s refreshing to get that sort of raw truth from someone. I’m moving a bit quickly. I haven’t been with a guy in about four months, I’m kind of pent up. But you seem like a really caring guy, I trust you. I think I really like you. I want this to be more than just a hook-up. I hope you don’t think less of me, because I’m looking to get you in bed faster than you’d like.”

“I’m glad to hear you’re hoping this turns into something long-term, me too.”

“Do you want to come back to my apartment right now?”

“Yeah,” Desmond said, downing the rest of his tea.

“Me too,” Paige said, following suit.

A short drive later, Paige met Desmond at the stairs leading up to her apartment. “I’m on the second floor, shall we?” She asked, holding out her hand. Desmond took her hand and followed her up the stairs. Paige led him to her apartment, then through it, depositing him on her couch.

She straddled him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Do you want to kiss me?”

“Yes, if you’d like that.”

“You’re so cute. Where’s that bold Desmond? I like him too,” she said, pressing her lips to his, beginning a barrage of wet, sloppy kisses. As she continued to kiss him, she began to move her hips, grinding against his crotch. This was not what Desmond was expecting. There was no tenderness to be found here, just lust. Desmond felt his cock begin to stir. Something was wrong, something felt off. This wasn’t how he wanted to have sex. But he was a guy, this is how it works, he told himself.

Desmond had an idea. He wanted to see if his boldness would pay off, or at least change the situation. He pulled away from Paige’s lips. “You seem rather excited about me. Would you like it if I went down on you?”

Paige chuckled, “You know I’ve never had a guy offer to do that before, unprompted. You really are one of a kind. Thanks for the offer, but I think you deserve a reward for being such a gentleman.”

Paige scooted off his legs and slid her body down until she was kneeling in front of him. She reached up and unbuttoned his pants. Desmond’s situation had changed. He wasn’t sure if this was an improvement. His doubt was quickly chased by the idea that, of course, this was an improvement. He had a beautiful woman who wanted to pleasure him. He was unsure of why this felt so bad. He thought it obviously wasn’t bad.

“You’re really sure you don’t want me to take care of you first?”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Eager, you’ll have all night to get me off, again, and again, and again. Now lift your butt, then relax.” She said, slipping her fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulling. She slid his pants and boxers down to his ankles. As she slid past his knees, she pushed them apart.

Paige ran her hands along his thighs, wrapped one hand around his balls, and the other around his shaft, and began to stroke him. Desmond felt the blood flowing into his cock. He thought this was supposed to feel good, but it didn’t. The physical sensation felt good, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Paige leaned forward and took his cock into her mouth. He was pretty sure she wanted this, but he didn’t want her to want this. This wasn’t how he was supposed to have sex. He wasn’t sure how, but it wasn’t this. This was monstrous. He didn’t want to be the sort of person who imposed himself on a woman like this. That thing in Paige's mouth was monstrous. It was a monster, and it was attached to him.

Desmond felt the tears flowing down his face as he reached down to pull Paige’s head away from the monster she shouldn’t have in her mouth. “Please stop. I can’t do this. Please forgive me.”

Paige looked up at him, confused. “What’s wrong, Desmond?”

“I don’t know. I just can’t. I can’t make you suck on that thing like that.”

“You’re not forcing me to do anything. But we can stop if you want.”

She pulled his pants back up as she moved to sit next to him on the couch.

“Paige, I am so sorry. I liked the time we spent together, I really wanted, still do want, us to work out. But I can’t, I don’t know why. I don’t think it’s you, but this feels wrong. Maybe we can still be friends?” Desmond said as the tears continued to flow. He felt shame wash over him, something was wrong, but more than that, he was ruining a perfectly good relationship for no reason before things even had a chance to get started. He felt his shame curl into self-loathing as he realized he was broken in some way he couldn’t describe.

“Do you just want to talk some more?”

“No, I need to go. I’m sorry, I really am. I wish I could offer a better explanation. I’ll call you if I ever manage to fix myself.” He willed his body to stand from the couch, then took one step towards the door, and then another. Paige looked bewildered from the couch, but let him leave.

—

He cried the entire drive home. When he got home, he found Melissa sitting by herself in the kitchen, waiting for him.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not yet, can we just sit for a bit?”

“Yeah, sweetie,” she said, escorting him to the couch.

Eventually, Desmond broke the silence. “Things started off good. She was gorgeous, Mel. We had dinner, we had fun talking. She invited me to come see her art sometime, I was looking forward to that. Then she invited me back to her apartment. I told her I would have preferred to wait longer, but she seemed so excited. And that’s what guys do, right? They sleep with their dates when given the chance. So I agreed. She was worried I’d think less of her for rushing, I didn’t. I wouldn’t judge her for that.

“We got back to her apartment, she was really eager. She was grinding herself on me, but I didn’t want her to. So I offered to, you know, uh, do things with my mouth, hoping to distract her. That didn’t really work out. It had the opposite effect, actually. She said it was really sweet, and she was going to use her mouth on me first instead.

“That’s when things really went off the rails. She got my pants down and then started touching me, and it was just wrong. I didn’t want her to want me that way. I don’t know how else to describe it. Then I started crying, and completely ruined her night. She wanted to just talk, I don’t know, maybe trying to get us back on stable footing. But I couldn’t look at her. I was too ashamed of being broken.

“So I left. I fucked up, Mel. Bad. I hope she doesn’t hate me, but even if she doesn’t hate me, I don’t know if I can see her and not hate myself.” He broke down crying again, and Melissa just rocked him gently on the couch.

“Mel, you’ve known me longer than anybody. What’s wrong with me?”

“I don’t know, sweetie, but I’ll be here with you and for you as long as you need.” She didn’t know, not with enough certainty to say anything, but she was starting to consider an unlikely theory of what might be bothering her friend.

“Thanks,” Desmond said, crying off and on until he fell asleep in Melissa’s arms. She just let him sleep until she too fell asleep.

—

The next day, Desmond was surprised by how nice the weather was for January; dry, almost warm, and he thought he could see a hint of blue sky peeking past the edge of the library. He walked up to the front counter and smiled, handing the young woman behind the counter the book he needed to return. She scanned it and frowned.

“Something is wrong. You’ll need to take this upstairs yourself,” she said, handing the book back to him.

Desmond thanked her and headed deeper into the library. He saw a pair of women passionately making out at a table near the first-floor foyer. No one seemed to pay them any attention. ‘Good for them, but maybe not the most appropriate venue,’ Desmond thought. As he rounded the corner towards the side staircase, he saw a woman lean forward and stumble awkwardly into the restroom. Then he realized she had been pulled in by the arms wrapped around her back. He could hear the presumed couple moaning as he began ascending the stairs. They at least had the decency to duck out of a public space.

At the second-floor landing, something was wrong, the stairs up were blocked off. A minor inconvenience, he’d cut across the floor and take the other staircase up. Desmond looked at the first row of bookshelves as he passed, but instead of books, he saw a pair of naked women, one reclining back against the inside wall of the shelf, and the other with her head between the sitting woman’s legs. The sitting woman looked at him and said, “She loves the way I taste,” as both women crumbled to dust.

Fear gripped Desmond. Something was wrong, but he pressed on. Down the next row of shelves, he saw two more nude women sitting on a bookshelf, enjoying tea. They laughed about how men would never understand love as they crumbled to dust. Desmond picked up the pace. He just needed to get to the next floor to drop this book off, and everything would be fine. Row after row, he saw more couples happy together until they told him the things they found most precious that he would never have because he was a man, and then they crumbled to dust.

Desmond tried to run faster, the world became a blur of just voices. Something was wrong. He was wrong. He would never truly be loved because he was unlovable, he was flawed, he was a man. Tears streamed down his face as he crashed into the railing of the stairs up to the third floor. He took the stairs two at a time. He just needed to drop off his book.

Cresting the stairs to the third floor, he was back in the library, the shelves had books on them again. Maybe something wasn’t wrong after all. He made his way to the right shelf, turned down the aisle, took a single step, and then heard a familiar voice.

“Hey Desmond, what are you doing here? This is the women's section of the library,” Melissa said, emerging from the aisle opposite where he turned. He turned to walk toward her, and the world fell into darkness, leaving only him and Melissa. “Don’t worry, Desmond, I’ve got you,” Melissa said, reaching out for him, her arm passing an inch in front of his chest, not making contact. Melissa looked at him with confusion in her eyes and reached for him again, but her hand again passed in front of him. “Uh, Desmond, something is wrong,” she said, reaching out for him a third time, but again her hand stopped short, where his breasts should have been. He watched Melissa crumble to dust. He wept alone in the darkness for what seemed like forever.

—

He woke up in the morning stiff, hunched in a ball, with Melissa holding him on the couch. He needed to figure out what was wrong with him. His last twenty-four hours had been hell. He tried to slip out of Melissa’s arms without waking her, but she stirred.

They stared at each other, neither sure what to say for a moment. Desmond walked towards his room, stopping at the doorway to look back at Melissa.

“Thanks for being there for me. I was a mess last night, I still am a mess.”

“That’s what friends are for, we’ve both been the hugger and the cryer several times over the years. If you want to talk about anything, I’m always happy to listen.”

“Sigh. I’d like to talk, I just don’t know what to talk about, but I’ll let you know if I figure out what’s wrong with me.”

Desmond got dressed, grabbed his laptop bag, and went to the library. It wasn’t the orgy of nightmares he remembered. It was quiet, secluded, and gave him space to exist that was indoors and away from people.

He found a table in the back corner of the fourth floor. It reminded him of the secluded spot where Melissa had come out to him years ago. He wondered if he was gay. Was that why he was bad at relationships with women? Why had he panicked when Paige had touched him?

He imagined that it was a guy instead of Paige between his legs. No, that was definitely worse, he quickly realized. That seemed to take the gay theory off the table.

He ran through a few more variations. Him going down on Paige, that was fine. Paige with another guy, good for them, he thought, but it wasn’t horrifying like imagining Paige being with him.

Desmond sighed. All the women in his nightmare had been lesbians. He wondered why that was. He imagined Paige with another woman, which felt good. It was really hot, he thought. He was pretty sure she was just into guys, but of all the variations he’d considered, that felt somehow right.

Great, I have a lesbian fetish, Desmond lamented to himself. He hated himself a bit more. He felt monstrous. He knew he couldn’t tell Melissa. He’d never kept a secret from her before. He feared that if she knew what sort of monster he was, he’d lose his oldest and closest friend.

His phone buzzed. It was a text from Paige. He swiped to clear it from his notifications. He couldn’t bring himself to read it right now.

At least now he knew what the problem was, he told himself as he pushed himself up and out of the chair.

—

The next few days dragged on. Desmond felt like a dead man walking. He was going through the motions. He went to class. He did homework. He ate. The guilt and shame were overwhelming when Melissa was around. He knew she trusted him. He felt his very existence was a betrayal of that trust. He didn’t want to be like this.

Time dragged on until it was movie night. Melissa settled into her place on the couch. She grabbed the remote and started flipping through options. As she considered movies, time passed with no sign of Desmond. She checked the time on her phone, seven ten. He probably just got busy with homework or something, and would be out shortly, she told herself.

She checked her phone again, ten minutes had passed. She texted Desmond, “Do you know how much longer you’ll be delayed?”

She didn’t get a response by text. Instead, she heard Desmond’s door open and close. Soon, he crashed ungracefully into the chair at the far end of the couch without saying anything or making eye contact.

“You ok?” Melissa asked. She could feel the distance between them.

“Yeah, fine,” Desmond mumbled. He wasn’t fine, and they both knew it.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Can we just put on a movie and go back to normal?”

Melissa opted for a classic, putting on Sleepless in Seattle. She missed the warmth and weight of Desmond on her ribs. But maybe the distance was for the best. They watched the movie without banter or drinks. They maintained their unbroken track record, but it felt different now.

The nightmares continued to come into the next week. Not every night, but often enough, the things he didn’t want to want were never far from his mind. Melissa grew increasingly worried about her friend. Every time she reached out, he pulled back harder. Melissa was the person he went to when he had troubles, had things he needed to talk about. But Desmond couldn’t talk to her, not about this. He was certain that if she knew, she’d hate him as much as he hated himself.

Desmond resigned himself. He didn’t deserve Melissa in his life. He was going to tell her the truth. He knew it would be the last conversation they ever had. Not yet, but soon. Maybe he could steal a bit more undeserved happiness from her. The next time she asked, he planned to confess.

College, Junior Year, February

Thursday, movie night, came. Melissa settled into the couch, Desmond in his chair.

“Desmond, sweetie. I’m really worried about you. Something is wrong, something has been very wrong since your date with Paige. I care about you, talk to me, let me help you.” Melissa pleaded.

“Sigh. Mel, I’m a monster. I’m a guy who wants to impose himself on lesbians. I’m a straight guy who wants to be with a lesbian. You’ve trusted me for years, and all that time I’ve been the thing you should trust least and hate most. I didn’t mean to lie to you. I didn’t know. But now I do, and I’ve lied to you enough. I’m sorry. I won’t blame you for hating me. I blame myself for being a thing that should be hated.”

He let his confession roll from him as the tears rolled down his cheeks. He waited for Melissa to hate him. He thought she deserved to express her contempt. Then he would leave.

Melissa reeled at what she was hearing. The wound her friend was suffering was much deeper and darker than she expected. She tried to sift out what he was really saying under all the pain he was feeling.

“Desmond Thompson, you are no monster! You are my best friend. You are one of the kindest, most caring people I know,” Melissa yelled, hoping the shock would break him out of the despair he had fallen into. Then she got up from the couch, walked over to where Desmond sat, and knelt to look him in the eye. “Please, explain to me what you think you’ve done wrong.”

“But I am a monster,” he sobbed.

“Why do you think that? What happened to make you think that?” Melissa reached out and wrapped her hands around Desmond’s hand.

He looked up and met her gaze. He knew she wanted to hear his confession in full. He knew he deserved this.

“After the night with Paige, I didn’t know what was wrong with me. So I went to the library to think. I thought I might be gay, but that wasn’t it. The idea of a guy touching me was even worse. Then, like a creep, I ran through all the other combinations I could think of. All of the ones involving people touching me were bad. Other guys with women, I didn’t really feel anything about.

“The idea of two women together, that made me feel good, that’s how it should be, that’s what I wanted. But, clearly, I’m a guy. I have no right to intrude on women who want nothing to do with men like that. To say nothing of the impossibility of such a thing, I’m not a woman.

“But then it got worse. I’ve been having nightmares since then. Nightmares about women in loving relationships. They tell me the things they love that I’ll never have. The things I don’t deserve. I know the nightmares are real.

“Please just hate me for the monster I am. Maybe that will free me from the nightmares.” They broke down crying again.

Melissa considered what they had said. This fit with her theory, but her friend’s understanding was twisted and tainted with self-loathing and lies. Her heart ached for her friend. They weren’t a monster. She was growing more convinced they were quite the opposite.

“Sweetie, you’re not a monster. Come sit on the couch with me. I have a few more questions.” She said, pulling lightly on their hands, she guided them to their usual spot on the couch. “You comfortable?”

They nodded.

“Good. I’m going to ask you a question, and I’m going to need you to go with me here, and promise me you won’t freak out. Ok?” They nodded, remembering the last time they heard Melissa say those words. “Imagine a little box with a big red button on the side of it. If you push the button, you’re instantly and irrevocably a woman. Would you push it?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Sweetie, you’re not a monster. You’re quite the opposite.” She said, squeezing her friend nestled under her arm.

“But I’m a guy who wants things no guy should have. Things I have no right to. Things that would only hurt people.”

“You don’t have to be a guy if you don’t want to be. You could be a lesbian, you don’t need my permission, but I’ll give it to you if that would make you feel better.”

“Mel! I’m not a woman, I’m a guy. If I was a woman, that would make me…” She exploded but then trailed off as understanding dawned on her. The guilt began to lift. She wasn’t a man invading lesbian spaces and relationships. She was a woman, a lesbian.

“... a trans woman.” She looked up at Melissa as the tears stopped flowing. Melissa looked at her friend with love and pride.

“I told you, you weren’t a monster. You’re still my best friend. I’m proud of you. I’m sorry you got caught up in some lies an asshole told to make women like you hate yourselves.”

“Can I really be a lesbian? Could a lesbian love me? Could you love a trans woman?”

“I already do,” Melissa said, kissing her friend on the top of the head, “and have for a while. Since high school at least. I love the things we do together. My favorite part of movie night is the way your body feels pressed against me. You feel safe, your touch makes me feel safe. I love the way you’re always there for me, you’re kind and supportive. You treat me the way I would hope a partner would treat me. I love everything about you.

“I wanted you to be happy, I wanted us to be happy. I didn’t think I would have been a good enough partner for you. I didn’t think I could love you the way you wanted and deserved to be loved. Guess I was wrong about that. Sweetie, you’re the sort of woman I want to love.”

“I… I think I would like that.” She felt the walls she had built in her mind begin to crumble. Melissa was her best friend, her favorite person. She had long ago accepted that she and Melissa didn’t have that sort of relationship, couldn’t have that sort of relationship, and that she couldn’t long for it, that wouldn’t be fair to either of them. But things were different now. She wasn’t a man asking her friend for what Melissa couldn’t give. She was a woman, wrapped in the arms of the woman who loved her. Nothing was stopping her from loving Melissa, too.

After a short pause, she added, “I love you, too, Mel.”

“Hey, sweetie, having a girlfriend named Desmond is kind of weird, right? Is there another name you’d like better?”

“Can I have a moment?”

“Take all the time you need. And don’t worry about picking the perfect name, you can always choose a new one. But know I’ll love you, whatever your name is.”

A bit later, she looked up at Melissa and said, “I think I’d like to be called Anne.”

“A perfectly wonderful name for a perfectly wonderful girl,” Melissa said, kissing Anne on the top of her head.

“Hold on a second, did you say, girlfriend?” Anne asked, caught off guard.

“We’re two women in love, right? What else would we be?”

“Yeah, I guess that is how that works. So what are we watching tonight? You’re going to be hard-pressed to find a better love story,” Anne joked.

“I’m not even going to try to top this.”

A few hours later, the movie wrapped up.

“Alright, sweetie, let’s go to bed.”

Anne climbed out from Melissa’s arms and started walking toward her room. Melissa rose after her.

“Where are you going, sweetie? I’d like to snuggle my girlfriend some more.” Melissa said, holding her hand out in invitation.

“Oh! Let me go grab a nightshirt from my room real quick.”

A few minutes later, they settled into Melissa’s bed. Anne could feel Melissa’s body pressing into her back, with Melissa’s arm wrapped around her stomach. Everything about this moment felt right to Anne. She fell asleep looking forward to the future and the woman she was going to grow into.
———

Thanks to THBGato for beta-reading and kicking my butt into being a better writer.