Grace's Bookstore

Chapter 4

The first thing he did when he woke up was check his link, check their messages. But Damien's still said delivered, which meant he'd seen it and chosen not to respond, or he hadn't even opened it. Noah's heart sank slightly, the wide grin fading from his face. He only had one message.

[Cee] He/Him.

He glanced at Luka, still sleeping, and sighed as he rose silently, moving through the darkness of their room as he got dressed and packed his bag, slipping his laptop into its sleeve and grabbing what he had pulled out for his homework.

He got dressed in silence, selecting black jeans and a crimson red sweater that felt like a warm blanket on the skin. He grabbed shoes the same color, white laces, and slipped from the darkness of the room to the darkness of the hallway and rest of the apartment.

He poured himself a bowl of cereal, cereal first then milk because he wasn't a monster, and sat at the table, the kitchen lights illuminating the entire apartment. His mother had already left, working from bell to bell in order to make as much money as possible. He ate quick, forcing it down so he wouldn't be late for the train, and was done in under seven minutes. He brushed his teeth, fought with his hair for all of two seconds before he gave up and let it go, and darted to the front door, pulling his coat from the tiny hall closet.

He locked the door behind him, descended down two flights of stairs, and grinned at Caro as he stood there. Noah's heart fluttered slightly looking at him.

Cee was gender-fluid, their name and pronouns changing day to day, hour to hour, minute to minute, as they felt more or less comfortable as one particular gender. The years they'd been together made it easy for Noah to tell Cee's gender on any given day. The set of their shoulders, the way their head tipped, how their hair was done, or even the bounce in their step. Even without the message Noah received in the morning he would know, to the point people often asked him how he knew with such certainty.

"How do you know what gender they are today?" They would ask, curious and interested in knowing his secrets so they could use it themselves.

"It's easy," he would respond simply, "just look at them." It was easy to him at least.

But Cee's parents weren't as accepting, and when they came out at thirteen, they were cast out of the house and forced to live on their own without a drop of help from them. Cee hadn't seen them since, hadn't even wanted to, in the three years they had lived on their own.

For the first few months, they lived on Noah's couch. His mother always set the table and left a spot for Cee after school anyway, so it was barely a switch in anyone's eyes.

He wore eyeliner, just a dagger's slash over each eye, and a brilliant smile. The pair were the same height, but that was where the similarities stopped. Caro had deeply dark skin, a mixture of African American and Mexican, and curly black hair that tumbled just passed his ears and hung freely. His eyes were the color of glimmering onyx, so dark it shined, and his teeth were white and straight. He held a to-go mug of coffee in both hands, bag slung over his shoulder, and was dressed in simple black jeans and a black jacket thrown over a black t-shirt.

"Good morning." His voice was smooth, high, but like the trickle of a gentle creek, and Noah offered a silent smile back. His teeth shone.

"Good morning." He replied, nodding as Caro sipped his coffee. A beaded bracelet in the colors of the genderfluid flag hung on his wrist.

He was very pretty, and Noah always had the sense that if they were down, they would be dating. But they were both comfortable as just best friends and, at the moment, Noah's crush on Damien had returned dramatically. It was severe.