Growing Pains, Part 2
This is the second installment to the 'Growing Pains' series, a story commissioned by a wonderful client who is more than happy for me to share these with you all.
Ahh, young love. Isn't it a mess? If you're interested in potentially getting your own commission, consider looking at my profile - there I have listed my pricing, topics I write about, and a few more examples of my writing for you to sink your teeth into <3
That evening, there was a distinct awkwardness in the air. After his parents had left, Zoe helped her new flatmate collect his belongings from where they lay scattered across the floor. Far from the collection of sports memorabilia and trophies she expected, Mikhail's belongings were a mix of pop figurines and video game character novelties. A pen cup shaped like the Hulk's fist, lightsaber pens, a mouse pad with a large-breasted anime woman who had a shock of long, blue hair, a triforce fidget spinner... The lanky wolf quickly thanked Zoe for her assistance and grabbed his items as quickly and politely as he could, stuffing them back into the box while he held it together haphazardly. A sense of embarrassment radiated from the wolf, palpable almost like heat. Mikhail was most gracious when she directed him to his new room, and he swiftly disappeared behind a half-closed door.
She could hear him rearranging things to his liking beyond the doorway; the sound of a quilt being fluffed, drawers opening and shuffling about. Zoe felt like she should say something, but after the last half hour, what more was there to be said? Poor thing, her new room mate looked utterly mortified with his parents. That was one upside to not keeping contact with family, she supposed? College was a clean start for her. Back in her hometown, things were... well, they were just different. Everyone knew each other. Everyone was constantly gossiping, and Zoe had to pretend day in and day out that she was a completely different person just to fit in and stay safe.
Here across the other side of the country, though, nobody knew her. She had no strings, no "Oh, you're Paul's boy!" hanging over her. She could live as her true self for the first time in her life and, as terrifying as the first few months had been, Zoe felt happy here. Her smile was genuine. The way she couldn't stop her tail wagging was sincere. There was a bounce in her step, even on her darker days, and for the first time it felt like people looked at her rather than through her. But what about the flatmate situation, though? She bit her lip. There was a difference between meeting people in passing, and sharing living spaces with someone. There was an intimacy to this arrangement that made her feel panicky in a way she couldn't quite explain, like her life was a giant secret she had to keep safe, lest it fall apart around her. What if he found out? What would he think? What if he told everyone? What if she had to move? What about her course?
Zoe blinked, and realised she had been digging her claws into the palms of her hand. She had done it again. She sighed. What was the phrase scrawled inside her journal cover? "Don't borrow from tomorrow's problems today." It was right, too. It always was. The young woman scowled at herself. Here she had been hiding in the kitchen, so worried about the 'what if' of the situation when she had no reason to fret, that she had missed a perfectly good opportunity to exercise some of that "Southern Hospitality" her mother drilled into her. This was nothing more than an opportunity to make a new friend, surely, and by god she was going to do exactly that.
She filled the kettle. Tea? Tea. Everyone liked tea, and it was a great ice breaker!
"I, uh, I'm putting on the kettle for a cuppa if you want one?" She announced, cheerfully.
The sound of a trip and stumble came from the second bedroom, followed by a long silence and then a hesitant "No, thank you!"
Well, shit.
"Are you sure? It's really no bother at all," Zoe insisted, hopefully. "I can even bring it into you, if you like?"
"I'm - I'm good, thanks. Really!" What almost sounded like a panicked response came from beyond the doorway.
She raised an eyebrow. This wasn't how things were supposed to play out. He was supposed to come out, they would have introductions and bond over a cup of tea, break the ice and find out how much they had in common, then it would be like a spinoff episode of Friends where they would be dysfunctional but lovely flat mates while they faced the trials and tribulations of college life together! Okay, maybe not quite like that, Zoe admitted to herself with a smirk. Maybe she had read one too many romance stories, but the idea of things working out neatly like that was arguably quite nice.
"What about dinner? It's getting on in the day and I don't have the kitchen anywhere near unpacked yet, so we should probably order in tonight. My shout." She suggested. "I heard there's a really good Chinese food place that delivers here. What do you think?" Nobody could resist the temptation of a good beef and black bean, right, let alone a free meal while in college? She'd befriend him before the night was over, god damn it!
"Uh, yeah, sounds good."
The short response hung in the air like a bad smell, and it was fortunate that Mikhail was behind his partially closed door, because the face Zoe made would have curdled milk. What was with this boy!? Maybe he WAS the meat head she was worried about, and this was going to be a very, very long year. It would be impolite to retract her offer to buy dinner at this point, so she was committed. At least she'd get her favourite dish out of this whole exchange, right? Small graces.
As she flicked through the menu on her phone, she made one last attempt at conversation with her new room mate. "Is there anything in particular you want? The chef's special is a garlic beef with mushrooms if you don't like spicy food."
"Uh, just get whatever," the wolf responded.
Zoe sighed, exasperated, as she placed the order. This was really not going as she had planned. Hell, even in her own anxiety-fueled daydreams, the young woman hadn't anticipated having a completely antisocial flatmate. Loud, yes. Obnoxiously sports-oriented, sure. Hell, even the super studious type whose special interest was soil microbiology, and who kept petri dishes of dirt on almost every available surface would have been preferable by comparison, she thought. A little part of her heart sank as she put her phone down and resumed unpacking the kitchen boxes. At least she still had beef and black bean showing up soon, right?
Classes started tomorrow, and she had hoped to unwind a little tonight, maybe talk some crap, get a hand unpacking the more household items and generally decompress after what had been a grueling week. Between the driving, the paperwork and the anxiety that came from uprooting your life and moving to a city you had never been before, Zoe felt deflated and drained. Sure, she could absolutely join some social clubs on campus - she had seen a poster for the Queer Students Association near the campus head office - but a little part of her felt distinctly lonely. Her hometown might have been a backwards place, by and large, but at least the faces there were familiar ones.
With crockery and cutlery put away, she leaned over the laminate benchtop and picked up her phone. She thumbed through apps until the message bubble of an old face appeared. The beaming smile of a chocolate labrador grinned at her from the corner of her screen. It was a bittersweet thing; the beautiful, familiar face of a dear friend, the memories of the years spent together through middle and high school, and the last message from in their chat window that read:
> _I don't understand why you can't just stay here. Just wear normal clothes in public like you have before now, and don't let folks catch you looking at bras in Sears again. Honestly. Is it really that much of a big deal? I can just tell folks that you and Amy are dating ;) Come to the lake with us this weekend and I can hook you two up for real! _
It would have been times like this that Zoe reached out to her old friend. They would have messaged for 10 minutes straight and then talked for hours when they got sick of typing. They would have talked about cute boys she saw in the city, about what the weather was like, about how her friend was dying to come and visit during the holidays. Zoe would have had her spirits raised as they laughed about the stupid shit going on back home, and reminiscing about the trouble they had gotten into together.
But things were different now. Everything changed so quickly, and she didn't have the courage to fight against the stale, old ways of a backwater little town anymore. She had thought her oldest friend would understand, but prejudice ran deep, even when wrapped in good intentions. Zoe had left her friend on read that night, and the vague plans she had made plans to move solidified into something real. This place no longer felt like home. She had given some vague explanation about a uni placement that didn't exist yet, and then packed her car and left. She didn't miss her parents, what little caregivers that they were. She didn't miss having to couch her identity under layers of bullshit just to fit in. She didn't miss the gossipy rumour mill. What she missed was having the familiarity of someone who cared whether she existed or not, and that night, Zoe realised that the beloved friend of hers only cared whether parts of her existed, and only the parts that were the least troublesome, and that wasn't worth putting her life on hold.
Staring at the screen, Zoe considered what it would be like to send a message back, telling her old acquaintance about her new life here. About how she drove cross-country and slept in a car with her belongings for a few weeks before finding accommodation in a shelter for queer young folks in the new city. About how starting hormone therapy was the best decision she had ever made. About how changing her name was both the hardest thing she had to do (um, hello, choices??), but also the most natural, and about the pages and pages of scribbled ideas and notes about what she should pick. About the first time someone addressed her by her correct name and pronouns at work, and she broke down in tears in the break room and had to make up some silly excuse about a breakup. She wanted to tell her about the months it took to feel safe, constantly worrying that someone from her hometown would somehow appear in her new life, as if they had the power to drag her back to her old self. She wanted to tell her friend that she was missed, and that Zoe yearned for their hour-long talks and how close they were, and she wanted to hear that she was missed in return.
Zoe missed feeling loved.
The new city was amazing, and there was so much potential at the very tips of her paws here, but her heart still ached for the warm smile and embrace of someone who cared if she existed or not. Taking in a deep breath, Zoe stood up and straightened her shoulders and a sense of confident resolve settled itself somewhere behind her ribs. She had made it this far. She had already done the impossible for a small-town dog; everything else would be easy by comparison. Starting tomorrow, she was going to make things work. She was going to make friends and find Her People here in the city. It was an act of rebellion in the face of uncertainty and loneliness, and if there was one thing Zoe had found herself good at, it was subverting expectations.