Then we kiss.
It’s been two months since I last kissed Gretchen.
I can’t believe I lasted that long. I should’ve shriveled up out of frustration and longing and loneliness by now.
Then we realize we have way too many clothes on, so we take care of that. And then—even though Ebony will kill me for this if she ever finds out—there’s no way we’re going to have the patience to climb all the way up to the top bunk.
The first time Gretchen and I had sex, I was so nervous. It was my first time, but it wasn’t Gretchen’s, and that made me even more nervous.
Not so nervous that I didn’t want to do it. I’d wanted to do it since that first night at the Homecoming dance.
Back then, I was still getting used to the idea that this person—this smart, hilarious, beautiful person, this person who could’ve had anyone—really and truly wanted to be with me. Me.
Actually, I’m not sure I ever got used to that idea. But I need it. I love it.
I love Gretchen. I love everything about Gretchen.
And if there’s anything different about today compared with how it used to be between us, that isn’t even worth thinking about. What matters is that we’re here, together.
You don’t stop feeling the way you do about someone just because you move to a new city, or make new friends, or start thinking about things differently. Love doesn’t change just because you change.
“I love you,” I say afterward. I can’t say all of what I’m thinking, but I can say that much.
“I love you, too,” Gretchen says. “What time do we need to leave?”
“Soon. We’re meeting the guys first in their room.”
“I’m so excited to meet the guys. They all sound like so much fun.” Gretchen gets out of bed and sits on the floor, naked, rifling through a giant backpack. “Except Nance. I hate Nance.”
“You don’t have to hate Nance.”
“Yes, I do! It’s called loyalty, hello? She doesn’t get to talk smack about you as long as I’m around.” Gretchen pulls a wad of tissue paper out of the backpack. “My dress for tonight’s in here.”
“Won’t it be all wrinkly?”
“Carroll packed it this way on purpose. He kept saying something about pleats. I’m gonna need your help putting it on, though. He wrote out instructions.”
I laugh. “Is that guy a walking gay stereotype or what?”
“He’s just trying too hard. All his gay role models growing up came from Netflix.”
I get up and pull on my sweatpants. “If you say so. I’m going to get ready.”
“Where, in the bathroom?” Gretchen frowns. We’re used to getting dressed in front of each other. Being together for two years will do that.
“Yeah,” I say. “I have a surprise. Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon to help with your dress.”
It takes me longer to get ready than I expected. When I come back into the room, Gretchen is half in the dress, half out of it, showing lots of skin and looking more attractive than anyone in such an awkward pose has any right to be. Gretchen squirms and holds out a piece of paper. “You took forever! Hurry, I’m falling out of this thing.”
I decipher Carroll’s handwriting and follow the instructions. The dress is way more work to put on than any dress should be, but when we’re done it looks fantastic. The black-and-purple fabric shows off every curve, but somehow it still manages to look old-fashioned and classy.
“You’re so gorgeous.” I wrap my arms around Gretchen’s waist from behind and gaze at the two of us in the mirror. We look perfect. “This dress was an excellent choice.”
“Carroll said you’d say that.” Gretchen leans back and kisses me.
“You’re keeping the necklace on, too?” Gretchen’s still wearing the top hat charm. I have my necklace on, too, but mine’s hidden under my shirt.
“Yeah. I thought it went, you know? Like, I’m an evil witch, and I draw my power from silver top hats.”
“An evil, sexy, feminist witch.”
“Totally!” Gretchen beams. “Now let me see this outfit that took you so long to get into.”
My outfit itself isn’t special. It’s the same black pants and white shirt I wore to almost every high school dance after I calmed down from the craziness of Homecoming. Since it’s Halloween, I also stuck a set of plastic vampire teeth in my pocket in case anyone asked what my costume was. There’s something different about how I look this time, though, and it only takes a second for Gretchen to figure it out.
Gretchen’s eyes widen. “Are you wearing a chest binder under that?”
“Yeah.” I swallow.
“Do you, um.” Gretchen bites down on a pinky nail. “Do you do that all the time now?”
“No, this’ll be the first time.”
Gretchen grins. “It’s sexy. Here, let me see it. Pull up your shirt.”