The Brightest Star in a Constellation

41: Family

☆ Evan ☆

After my second meeting with Mr. Brennan, I am finally allowed back on the hockey team. I avoid Sam on the rink, and luckily the game passes without any issues.

I've been working all week, so when the Astronomy Club meeting rolls around, I show up early.

Mostly to take a nap, to be fair.

I raise my head when Lexa comes into the club room. They're wearing that pin with the flag again, clipped to a knitted sweater. "You look tired."

"Sorry." I cover my yawn, rubbing my eyes with the back of my knuckles. The sleeve of my coat—the one from the ski trip—brushes my cheek. "I've been busy. I probably could have let you take the Vice President spot."

Lexa looks at the schedule of club events that I've been tasked with. I added a game night, and Peter suggested we switch out a week in April in preparation for an eclipse. There's also a meteor shower in the same month, but I haven't gotten that far in looking into it.

"I think it fits you. At least, Nicole seems to think so," they say. "Which means that Peter does, too. Those two practically share one collective brain."

I smile, stretching a little in my seat. Outside Ms. Crozier's classroom, a sign for candy grams decorates the wall. And Willow ended up using a slightly tweaked version of my slogan, substituting, 'dang' for the first word.

She probably wouldn't be pleased if I pointed out that it still doesn't rhyme.

"I wanted to ask," I say to Lexa, "about that pin you're wearing—what flag is that? It's nonbinary, right?"

They peer down at it, pointing at their sweater. "This? Yeah, that's what the flag means. Why?"

"No reason. I just—I looked it up. I was curious. I'd never heard that word before."

Lexa nods, tugging out a chair and sliding into it. Tossing their legs onto the desk, they say, "No, I mean, why were you looking it up? You could have asked me. I would've told you."

"No, I—it seemed like everyone already knew what it meant. I didn't want to admit that I knew nothing."

"Okay, Socrates," Lexa answers with a joking smile. "Are you experimenting with labels?"

"Am I what?" I ask, pencilling a reminder to bring snacks to the club meeting in April. I set my hands down only to pick the pencil back up a second time, eight seconds later.

"Oh, it just means that you're trying to find what fits. I use a label for my feelings on gender, and I have one for my sexuality. It took a long time for me to find what worked for me romantically—I like people for themselves. I started by saying I was pansexual, and I was really insistent on it at first. But I wasn't relating to it in the same way that I was comfortable with nonbinary—I knew I wasn't straight, and there was safety in being able to describe exactly what I thought I was. But that label wasn't working for me anymore. Like I was trying too hard to define it—and focusing less on how I felt." They pause as if to determine whether I'm listening.

I scratch the back of my neck and nod. The terms that I learned from creating my own blog have been bouncing around in my head, and it feels wrong that I never thought to look into it before. That it had never crossed my mind beforehand.