The Tales Of Crowboy The Incredible: Of Ink and Power

Chapter Forty-Eight

          Getting ready for a date is so weird to me. There are "fancy" outfits and things you would wear to a nice dinner, but unless it's specified before, is a date nice? It's just nachos. But you're still expected to wear a dress? That's.....stupid? A collared shirt? What if I don't want any nice shirts to get nacho cheese on them, and I know I'm going to tick because I'm anxious, and I want to wear a shirt that I don't really care about? WHAT ABOUT THAT!?! 

       "You have to wear something elegant," Van said, mocking me. "Something that expresses your feminity." I punched his shoulder, and he just grabbed my hands instead. 

       "I don't know if you remember, but I transed my gender. A few years ago, in fact. I thought you would know that at this point, but I guess not." I sighed and pretended to faint. 

      We were in French class, just kind of vibing. Madeline wasn't here today, which was a tragedy among the highest tragedies in the world. Sorrows, sorrows, pities, pities. There were only two other kids in the class. It must be a sickness of some kind traveling around the school. Maybe Celestials were immune to normal sickness. That would be cool. Maybe Van was a Celestial. 

       I studied Van. He had grown up a lot. It was strange. Sometimes I'll look across pictures from a couple of months ago and barely recognize the kid. We've gotten closer, which is one of my favorite things in my life. Getting closer to people like Van. 

       Van held my hands in his fists, and I swung them back and forth. I got to be touchy with him, which is something I don't really trust with humans. But Van is special. 

       "But for real, I have no fucking idea what I'm going to wear. See, in my brain, I want to say that the correct answer is band T-shirts and basketball shorts. But that doesn't feel correct. I guess jeans and a nice band T-shirt? But that also feels incorrect. UGH VAN HELP ME!" I yelled. The French teacher looked up at us, raised an eyebrow, and just laughed. 

        "I don't know if you've noticed, but we have very different ways of dressing." He was right. I was currently in, you guessed it, band t-shirts and black jeans, with thick, heavy eyeliner. Van, on the opposite end of the spectrum, was in a bright blue sweatshirt, light brown pants, and freckles splattered on his face like stars in the night sky. 

      "But you have gay rizz. And I need gay rizz. So do you wanna help me or not?" I leaned in really close to his ear. "The answer is yes," I whispered in a raspy tone. 

      "Shut the fuck up," Van laughed. I watched Van for a moment. Maybe it was because I was trying to freak him out. He told me earlier in the year I couldn't try to count his freckles anymore because thought it was creepy. 

     Van is like Diana, isn't he? Someone asked in the back of my brain. Probably fucking Jack. 

     No, Van is not like Diana. I have no romantic interest in Van. And that isn't me trying to iGnOrE mY fEeLiNgs. It's true. I replied. I don't experience attraction like normal. You should know that. Van is my best friend, and that's it. 

     "What?" Van chuckled nervously. Oh. I was still staring at him. Sometimes I forget that I still exist while I'm talking to the people in my brain. I wish I would just blink out of reality for a little bit, and people would work their way around my existence at all. 

      "Nothing!" I replied, a smile plastering my face. "Just talking to the voices that live in my head and tell me things!" Van burst out laughing, his face turning red. Sometimes, the best answer is the truth, even in uncomfortable situations. Also, to be fair, I normally say dumb shit like this. Voices aren't anything new. 

        "You're so mean." I got up and started to lightly punch his shoulders again. It was like tapping your pen when you needed to concentrate- just hit your best friend. 

        "I know." I stuck my tongue out at him. 

        "You would be infinitely less mean if you told me who the date was with. And why'd you stop obsessing over Owen? And also why you barely ever show up to class anymore and why you're always tired. That would be a really cool thing that would make you even cooler. ALSO, if you told me why you and Ginger are now being super duper sneaky together." 

      "So many words, so many answers, such little time." I felt bad about not telling Van. Of course, I did want to tell him. He was an important person to me. He IS an important person to me. But he wasn't a person who knew about both of my lives. So far, only the people who I'm getting tired of being around are the people who knew about both of my lives. Maybe one day he'll know. But not today. 

     "Maybe one day you'll know," I teased, "but not today. It takes a lot of explaining, and I don't have the mental capacity for that. You know, stupid people and such. But I can promise that tomorrow I'll tell you all about my date. Deal?"

      Van rolled his eyes, and I felt a piece break off of my heart. I'll tell him. One day. "You were going to tell me anyway. But fine. Do you want to talk about Douglas?" DAMN I GOT WIPLASH FROM THAT CHANGE IN SUBJECT!

     "....She's not even here. Why are you calling-"

      "YOU CAN'T SAY HER NAME!" Van exclaimed, "OR YOU'LL SUMMON HER AND WE HAVE TO LISTEN ABOUT HER GLOAT THAT A 5-YEAR-OLD HAS A CRUSH ON HER FOR HOURS! We must use the proper name for her. Douglas. And Douglas alone. 

     "You are so dramatic. I love you so much, you fucking narc." I said with a smile and held my hands up to make the basic white girl finger hearts. 

     "I love you too," Van said, returning my smile, and did the heart right back.