“You’re not a weirdo either. But yeah, I know what you mean. Guys are supposed to stuff their feelings down. Grunt a lot. Move heavy stuff and be sweaty and manly.”
“Hulk smash,” I agree. “It’s a load of crap.”
“Total load. Stoic doesn’t mean dude. And emotional doesn’t mean girl. I feel dumb for just recently figuring that out.”
I guess I had that programmed in my head too. And now Ash is making me reconsider it. “What made you figure it out?”
Ash picks up a red maple leaf, holds it to the lowering sun, and twirls it. “My dad always made me confuse emotions with gender. He’d say stuff like, ‘Boys like to act confident and tough. Girls tend to be compassionate and empathetic.’ Like everything is always male or female and there’s nothing in between. Mom was always arguing with him about it, ’cause she’s Mom and she fixes trucks for a living.”
“Your mom is basically the coolest.”
“She’s pretty okay.” Ash smiles. “I get angsty that I can’t be a strong woman like my mom if I’m a guy part-time.”
“You totally can. And you should tell her that. It would make her really happy.”
Ash looks down, blushing. “I always wanted her to be right when she’d argue with Dad about gender. But I couldn’t believe that she was right because . . . I don’t know. I guess when you’re younger, ‘either/or’ makes more sense than ‘some of both.’ But life is complicated. Sometimes two things that seem like opposites are both true. There are a million ways to look at anything.”
“That’s what I like about photography. You can shoot the same subject a hundred ways and create a unique picture each time.” I look at Ash sideways. “I’d love to photograph you. Sometime. If you’d be okay with that.”
Ash’s blush deepens. It’s so pink and lovely in the golden light.
“You’re a little of both. I mean a little of a lot of things that are really interesting. I mean you’re a lot of some interesting things. Some really good things, like funny and cool and smart and you love dogs like I do, which is awesome, and your hair is wicked cool and . . . um, please interrupt me so I quit embarrassing myself.”
“You’re interesting too.” Their hazel eyes focus on my lips. Then they look away.
I clear my throat and we start walking again. “You did such a great job presenting your rule-of-thirds photo today. It made me proud to be your friend.”
Tears spring up in Ash’s eyes, then quickly spill over. “That . . . might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” They laugh, and it has enough of a sob in it that my eyes water as well. “Thank you,” Ash says. “Yours was great too.”
“You should give those drawings to somebody in the office. They could use them to label the neutral bathroom, since the girls’ and boys’ have drawings but that one doesn’t.”
Ash laughs. “You noticed that?”
I nod. “I’m seeing things differently since you came out to me. Like more clearly.”
“Yeah, same.”
I want to hug them, but it feels forward. I clear my throat. “I like that I connect with you on two levels. Like a guy friendship level and a girl—um, a girl romantic level.” It’s scary to say. “It’s confusing, but honestly . . . I like it. It’s a good confusion.”
Ash wipes their eyes and doesn’t say anything. I start to think maybe that was too open, that I’m taking this honesty/vulnerability thing too far because that’s what I do with emotions and—
“Well. If we’re being honest,” Ash says. “I like you whether I’m a guy or a girl. And that might make things weird for you, if you don’t know if you like . . . you know. What you like.”
“I don’t think I have that figured out yet.” The word crush doesn’t seem right for what I felt for Ash when I thought they were a girl. It was . . . bigger. Better. More real. Like a crush is a thing you feel from a distance, but what I felt, maybe still feel . . .
Okay, yes, still feel.
Oh my gosh.
What I feel for Ash is right here. Living and breathing and walking around with me. Moving back and forth between us like it has a soul of its own.
I clear my throat. “Well. I’m glad we know each other. No matter what.”
Ash smiles. “I’m glad too. It worked out good for Chewbarka that we do.”
“I’d say so.”
There’s a pause, and it feels a little awkward. Then, at exactly the same time, we both say, “Do you want to—”
Ash laughs. “You first.”
“No, you.”
“No, you.”
“Do you want to go to the dance together?” I blurt. “We could go as friends, or as . . . I don’t know. Co–dog rescuers?”
“Oh.” Ash’s face shows surprise, then disappointment at the word friends. “Um.”
My stomach sinks. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry. Rewind thirty seconds and pretend that didn’t happen, okay?” I shouldn’t have asked and then said as friends, way to give a mixed signal Danny, you confused mess of a boy—
“Actually, I was going to ask you . . . if you want to help with that Fall in Love Adoptathon Iris was talking about.” Ash tucks a strand of hair back. “It’s the same day as the dance. Mom and I are planning to help.” They look up at me. “It doesn’t have to be a date, or whatever. If you don’t want it to be. I just thought—”
“Yes!” I say. “Yes times a million. I’d love to do that with you instead of the dance!”
“Oh—really?” They smile.
“Yeah. Absolutely. One hundred percent.”
“Cool.” They look at their shoes. “I mean, we could do both. The event during the day and the dance in the evening.”
“Oh, you’re right. Yeah, that would be amazing. Let’s do it!”
“It’s a date, then,” Ash says brightly. “Or just, you know, two people hanging out. Whichever.”
“How about we don’t worry what to call it? We could just . . . enjoy the day.”
They look relieved.
