Harmonious Hearts 2017 Page 16

  “As far as I care, none of them are really worth it, so I just ignore it all. Better not risk it.” Beck sighed, brushing it off. “If I had to date someone, regardless of all that, it’d have to be someone like you. You put up with my dumb shit even though you could totally do better, and whenever I want to go do some stupid cryptid-hunting adventure in the woods, you go with me even if you don’t actually really want to.” He sighed again, slowing down his mind and letting his thoughts settle as much as possible again. “You give me the time of day when no one else does. So, I guess, I want someone like you.”

  “Oh.” Wren’s gaze darted every which way like he had no idea how to respond. “Thanks, I guess.” A long period of silence drifted between them, punctuated by awkward sniffles and clearing of throats. Eventually Wren turned back toward Beck, confession in tow.

  “I wouldn’t mind dating you, Beck,” Wren admitted, his green eyes wide and honest. “If you asked me, I think I would say yes.”

  “You’re drunk,” Beck retorted, ignoring the butterflies raging in his stomach.

  “Can I, uh…?” Wren hesitated, twiddling his thumbs. “Can I try kissing you?”

  “You’re drunk,” Beck repeated but leaned in despite himself. It was nothing more than a brush of their lips, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it flutter against each other’s skin. Their noses bumped and their teeth clashed, but everything about it made Beck’s heart stutter.

  It evidently didn’t mean anything to Wren, who had no recollection of it the next day and officially boarded the plane back to straight-dom. However, it meant the world to Beck, whose memories often resurfaced with a feeling of rejection or hope that something could change. Sometimes both.

  With a loud grumble, Beck snapped out of his daydream and tried to bury his face deeper into the couch.

  “Hey, Mongolian death worm,” Wren called from somewhere behind Beck, “you can’t eat with your face in the couch.”

  “Watch me,” Beck shot back, eagerly flipping over to take the bowl and dig in already. Wren set both bowls down on the coffee table, then pulled it closer to the couch, propping his legs up on the cherrywood. He resumed the episode of whatever dumb show they were watching and lost himself in it until Beck piped up again.

  “You remember that high school prep party or something that we went to the summer before ninth grade?” Beck mused, pushing the fork around the bowl without actually eating anything. He’d lost his appetite somewhere between actually holding the bowl and starting to speak.

  “Yeah,” Wren said around a mouthful of ramen. “It was supposed to prepare us for real high school parties or some shit. I think it was just so the upperclassmen could haze us.”

  Beck snorted. “Man, speaking of that, remember your huge crush on Kat Ellis? And when she showed up with her hair dyed firetruck red and you turned the exact color of it.”

  Wren’s face darkened at the mere memory, oddly reminiscent of that summer night. “Plenty of other people dyed their hair that color later that week. The principal made them all dye it back because it broke dress code.”

  “And then they just bleached it all out, and it fried their hair,” Beck said, scraping the fork along the side of the bowl. “Do you ever wonder whatever happened to Kat Ellis?”

  “I heard she goes by Dog now,” Wren said, stated so simply that Beck couldn’t help but laugh. As if Wren had any right to speak against animal-based names.

  “And then the next night, we got plastered in your room because your brother’s friend left the drinks out and we didn’t know when to stop. We talked about what kind of person we’d date,” Beck said, unsure where his train of thought was going but unable to stop it. “Have you ever thought about how much that’s changed in the last few years?”

  Wren seemed to mull over the question, setting his bowl down on the ground and shrugging.

  “A little,” he admitted. “My baseline is still basically the same, though–someone I can connect to.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “It’s just that now I realize gender doesn’t matter to me as much as I thought it did.”

  Beck choked on his spit for a moment before recovering. Had he heard that correctly?

  “I, uh, what?” he stammered, trying to crush the mounting excitement in his chest. The last thing Beck needed was to get his hopes up and then destroyed again.

  “Yeah,” Wren continued, apparently oblivious. “I think being around you for so long has taught me to open up in a way. Without you, I think I’d still be boxed away in heterosexual denial.”

  “So, wait,” Beck said, sitting up despite the discomfort that ensued in his stomach. “You’re… what? Bi? Pan? Other?”

  “Honestly, I’m still figuring it out,” Wren said sheepishly. “I just know that I like a guy right now. I’ll cross that other bridge when I get to it.”

  Beck nodded, quietly celebrating Wren’s confession—for more reasons than one. “Well, good luck with all that,” Beck said, punching Wren on the shoulder. “That guy you like will—”

  Wait.

  For the second time, Beck almost choked. “What? Who?” he demanded, pushing the bowl aside and latching on to Wren’s arm. Almost immediately, he let go. Less than a minute ago, he was warning himself not to get his hopes up, and now was no different. He had to be supportive no matter who the guy Wren liked was. “Tell me about him.”

  Wren sat back, worrying his bottom lip. “I mean… I don’t know, you might react a little….”

  Beck furrowed his brow, puzzled. “Why would I…? Wren, I’m literally the last person to judge you for liking a guy. I mean”—he motioned at his torso—“duh.”

  “That not really what I meant,” Wren said, voice low.

  Resting a hand on Wren’s shoulder, Beck gave him an encouraging nod. “Then what?”

  Blowing out a sigh, Wren shook his head to clear his mind. “Beck, you have to promise me you won’t get angry.”

  Beck crossed his hand over his chest in a salute. “Promise. That is, unless you’re about to tell me you have a thing for Andrew Jackson, in which case—”

  “Beck, stop.”

  That shut him up.

  Wren dragged his hands down his face and sighed again, deeper and heavier this time. “I’m scared it’ll ruin everything, and I don’t know how to cope with that. You know later that night, after the party? When we were talking about who we wanted to date and all that?”

  Beck nodded, admittedly a bit terrified of where this was going.

  “And then we kissed. Do you remember that? I did. It hung around in the back of my mind for years until it started getting unbearable—I thought about the fact that I kissed you, and I was too scared to admit to myself that I wanted to do it again, so I acted like I forgot.” Wren rambled, his words running off into one long sentence. “And then you got over it and I didn’t and it just got worse and worse until you were the only thing I could think about. I can’t get you out of my head and I don’t really think… that I… want to.” Swallowing thickly, Wren stared at Beck, who was stunned silent. “Please say something.”

  “I never….” Beck fished around for words, all of which turned to stone on his tongue. “I didn’t… I….”

  During his confession, Wren had moved closer to Beck’s face, his voice rising until he was almost yelling. But they were so close…. They could kiss if Wren would just tilt his jaw and lean forward a little.

  Reaching up, Beck gently touched the curve of Wren’s jaw, brushing his cheek with his thumb.

  “Hey, Wren?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I never got over it either.”

  With that, he closed the distance between them. It was soft and hesitant but considerably better than the first time—Beck couldn’t help but grin at that thought.

  When they finally pulled back, Wren was beaming, a bright smile across his face. “S-sorry, I just… I’ve imagined that for a while.”

  Beck let out a soft laugh, dropping his hand to hold Wren’s. “That’
s adorable, dude.”

  Wren furrowed his brow in disbelief, trying to look annoyed, but his ever-widening grin betrayed him. “I give you the confession of a lifetime and all I get is an ‘adorable’?” He poked Beck in the side, then again on the other side, aiming for his most ticklish spots.

  “How about ‘dreamy?’ Or ‘oh-my-gosh-Wren-that’s-so-charming-I’m-smitten’?” He punctuated his sentences with pokes until Beck collapsed into contagious laughter, dragging Wren with him.

  “You win, you win!” Beck cried, shoving Wren off him. “Fine. That was ‘oh-my-gosh-Wren-that’s-so-charming-I’m-smitten.’ Better?”

  Wren hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. “I don’t know. Maybe another kiss will make up for it.”

  Beck gladly shut him up again.

  K.A. MALDONADO is an all-around nerd with a soft spot for fantasy. They adore dragons, cryptids, and theater, and can be found with at least two bottles of water at all times. Their favorite place to be is inside their head, because that’s where all their adventures take place. These adventures become the stories and drawings they love so dearly. “Ramen and Unrequited Crushes” is their first publication.

  Definition

  By Morgan Goolsby

  Cursed to take on the appearance of people who touch xem, Dawn Ritworth leaves xir father’s home to pursue a life in college outside the sheltered, antagonistic one xe’s known until now. Dawn is nervous about how xir new friends will react when they learn of the curse, but they might surprise Dawn—and show that everything Dawn’s father has said about magic and its acceptance might not be the truth.

  THE COURTYARD nestled in the middle of all the campus buildings, long and narrow. Made up of clipped green grass and winding sidewalks, it was the perfect place to hold student orientation. The freshmen huddled together in a group, a rainbow mix of paper pinned to their shirts—name tags to let them know to which orientation group they belonged and to let others know who they were.

  Dawn Ritworth’s paper was purple. Typed up by the school before the students arrived, xir name tag had the wrong name. In the center of the crowd, xe looked around anxiously for people with like colors. Better to know ahead of time who xe would be stuck with all day than later. Not that Dawn actually knew any of these kids. Xe’d spent xir high school career in xir home with a computer and xir dad.

  A kid in front of Dawn yawned and shifted backward. Dawn mirrored his movements, putting space between them, much to the grumbling of someone behind xir.

  Xe had to be careful. In this crowd, where Dawn had been pushed nearly to the center, careful was the keyword. Even though the speaker had everyone’s attention, and even though Dawn was bundled head to toe in clothing that left barely a peek of skin showing, a single touch still had the possibility to spell ruin.

  And Dawn didn’t need ruin. All Dawn needed was to get through orientation. Then school, Dawn thought. And more school, after that. And a job. And life in general.

  The weight of the future settled upon xir for a brief moment, and it was awful. Xe had so much to go through, and this was barely step one. The doubt that often held Dawn in its grasp returned. With the curse xe had, it was unlikely xe’d even make it through college. Someone would find out, and that would be the end of everything. Magic, even the unfortunate victims of it, were often regarded suspiciously. And, if xir dad was to be believed, violently.

  The orientation teacher gestured to a group of volunteer students. They held up yardsticks with various colored bandanas tied to them. The new students were supposed to go to the volunteer with the bandana that matched their paper. Xe looked around for the purple bandana and, spotting it, went to it.

  The volunteer had the ten or so students get in a circle and introduced herself and the school. Dawn only half-listened, looking at the students around xem. A short kid with a tangle of curly red hair stood to the right of Dawn. Xe couldn’t help but notice the penguin-shaped hair clip struggling to tame the curls and the string of brightly colored beads the girl would every so often chew on. Dawn glanced around to see if anyone else thought that was weird, but if they did, they didn’t say anything.

  Eventually the volunteer pointed to a student across from Dawn. “Introduce yourself,” the volunteer said. “Tell us about yourself!”

  Four people stood between Dawn and the chosen student. As they spoke, Dawn thought of ways to introduce xirself.

  Hi, my name is Dawn. Xe/xem pronouns. No, don’t look at my name tag. When I was eight I got cursed, my dad lost it, locked me up, and my mom left us both. So now I’m at college where I can be as far away from him as possible. Also nobody touch me. Ever.

  Probably not.

  “Hey y’all, I’m Gina,” said a girl to the left of Dawn. She gave a wave to the group, her green lipstick making her broad grin particularly exaggerated. She was taller than Dawn, with a short ponytail of black hair and cool brown skin.

  She was an all-out goth—black pants and combat boots and a torn-up shirt over a tank top. Even her eyes were black. If not for the lipstick, she would have been completely monochrome. She was also, notably, missing her name tag. “I moved here from up north my senior year. I figured I oughta try out school before I hit twenty. Don’t know what I’m majoring in yet but, like, soccer’s cool. So who knows.”

  With that she cocked her head to Dawn, raising an eyebrow. “Your turn.”

  Xe envied her easy confidence. Dawn was wrapped up in a sweater with gloves on and xir hair tucked up into a hat. With the weather being near eighty, Dawn looked like more of a weirdo than the penguin kid beside xem. Probably shouldn’t judge the penguin kid. Log in xir own eye and all that.

  “Uh. My name’s, uh, it’s D—” Xe grimaced and choked back the name Dawn, introducing xirself by the name on the card. Xe’d get braver with the name Dawn, eventually. Just not in front of a group of strangers. “I’m doing plants. Botany. That’s my major. So. Yeah.”

  Dawn took a quick step back and barely returned to xir place when the penguin kid stepped forward. “Hi! I’m Wex,” she said, thick Scottish accent rolling out. “I’ve got a name on this name card here but it’s wrong, yanno? That’s my first name and I don’t mess with that. Full name’s Wexford but I like Wex best. Anyway, I’m gonna be studying Zoology and I’m very excited.” She paused for a breath and gave a big grin. “And yes, I’ve seen Brave.”

  That got a few laughs from the group, and she barreled on until the volunteer cut her off. She seemed pleased with herself as she stepped back. She must have stepped wrong, though. Because then Wex fell and Dawn tried to catch her, only to be brought down as well. They both landed on the ground in a tangled heap.

  “Sorry ’bout that,” Wex groaned, struggling to her feet. She reached a hand down to help Dawn. Xe hesitated. One of xir gloves had been pulled off in the fall, and Wex held it in her hand. Dawn tried to get up on xir own, but Wex moved forward, taking xir hand in an attempt to help.

  It felt like xe’d been slapped. Dawn froze for only a moment before jerking back quickly, holding xir hand with the gloved one. Everyone in the circle stared at them.

  “Are you okay?” Wex asked, brows knit together in worry.

  Dawn didn’t answer. Xe stood, looking around this way and that before xir eyes found the volunteer. “Bathroom?” xe asked, having to draw in a breath to keep xir voice steady.

  “Uh. Yeah.” The volunteer pointed to the nearest building. “First door to the right. Are you sure you’re—”

  Dawn walked quickly away, willing xirself not to run. Xe walked into the bathroom and leaned against the door, xir heart pounding and xir stomach doing its best to bring breakfast back up. Xe breathed deep, trying to get control of xir lungs again, and brought up xir hand. Xe turned it this way and that, looking it over for signs of change. It wasn’t until xe didn’t see a change on the hand itself that xe stepped away from the door and in front of the mirror.

  Xe stared at xirself in the mirror for a short second, then began to undress. Shoes
and pants, shirt and hat. Xe looked in the mirror and saw the change instantly. Sometimes the changes were big, and sometimes they were small. This one was noticeable enough that Dawn didn’t even need to strip to find it. The hair on xir head, once stick-straight and black, was now a mass of copper curls. The hair on xir arms and chest and legs was a copper color as well now. Still dark, but definitely with a reddish tint. The hair on xir head was also shorter, which seemed to just add insult to injury. Xe’d managed to grow it to xir chin without xir dad saying anything, and now it had crept back up to xir ears because of the curling.

  Xe kicked the sink, then cursed loudly, holding xir injured foot. Xe sat, rubbing the tears out of xir eyes. Dawn supposed xe should be grateful. Hair was easy enough to explain. It was easier than touching someone and suddenly having a vaguely similar eye color to that person, or a slightly similar nose. And Dawn’s hair would be constantly tucked away into a hat. No one would notice the difference.

  Still, xir dad hadn’t been wrong. He’d said Dawn’s first day in college would be disastrous, and there xe was, sitting nearly naked on the floor of a public bathroom. Xe sighed, feeling heavy, and stood, pulling xir clothes back on slowly. Pants. Shoes. Shirt. Sweater. Gloves. H—

  The door opened, and Wex peeked in as Dawn picked the hat off the floor. She stood partway into the bathroom, looking unsure. “Hey, I’m sorry. I came to check on you. I thought I’d go find you after orientation but, like, orientation’s over and the volunteer didn’t really seem to care and, like—”

  Dawn had been in the bathroom a lot longer than xe’d thought. “I’m fine,” xe said sharply, pulling the hat down on xir head. Xir foot throbbed, xir clothes were wrinkled, and xir hair was different. An awesome way to start college.