— Amelia —

I knew I was screwed the moment Hannah smiled at me.

Impromptu parties at Ceres’ weren’t at all unusual. The Argentinian girl probably had her picture printed in dictionaries under the definition of “impulsive”. I still remember when I told her, one day, that I’d be coming back to my hometown of Cartaluz for college. The first thing she did was ask me if there was an astronomy major in the university I was applying to. The second thing she did was pull out her phone and call Janis, and five minutes later the two had already decided to move there with me.

I really enjoyed those sorts of social gatherings. They offered me some much needed respite from schoolwork, and our friends were all pretty chill, awesome people. But I would never have guessed that she of all people would be there.

Hannah. Lydia’s friend from university. And though I knew for a fact that they were majoring in different fields, I always saw the two of them together in campus. Still, in the years since Janis had introduced Lydia to me, I had yet to see Hannah come to one of our parties.

I watched her from the moment I walked into Ceres’ living room. Hannah was sitting next to Lydia, seemingly too shy to strike up a conversation with others. That in itself was pretty cute. But I also knew from observing her in campus that Hannah did not mince words when reprehending Lydia for slacking off on her studies or some other bad behavior. And that kind of bashful-but-assertive personality was something I found rather attractive.

I sat by her side and introduced myself.

“Amelia. Friends call me Mel.”

“Cute name,” she said.

“Thanks,” I told her, “I picked it myself.”

It was secretly a test. I liked dropping clues like those when meeting new people: it helped me figure out exactly what kind of person I was dealing with. And Hannah’s lack of understanding just then told me that she was definitely cis, and probably out of touch with the LGBTI community. Straight? Very likely.

As the night went on, I began to notice all sorts of small things about her. The paperbacks in her bag. The way she played with her hair when she was nervous. How cute it was when she laughed at the stories I told her. I felt my heart drop when I heard about her abusive ex, and then again when she started showing self-esteem issues.

“Would you kiss me?” she asked. My heart leaped in my chest. This incredible girl who was so attractive it was ridiculous was asking if I would kiss her.

“In a heartbeat,” I told her.

But then she turned away.

I could kick myself. She’s straight, remember? Of course she’d reject me. And even if she turned out to be bi (best case scenario, here), it still didn’t look like she had an interest in me. I should not have flirted. I got excited over the idea of finally getting to meet Lydia’s cute friend, and I overstepped. Dang.

But by then I was already in too deep. For the next several days, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I knew what that feeling was: a crush. A crush on someone who was probably straight and had no idea what trans people were. If there was one thing I had learned from my past heartbreaks, was that this was a recipe for disaster. I should have stayed away. Should have played it safe, remained her friend, barely her acquaintance, and moved on.

Instead, I made said girl my girlfriend.

Was it any wonder I was fretting so much over it?

Janis found me lying on the ground under the large mango tree by the library, and she instantly knew there was something wrong. The last time I’d been there was after a huge fight with my dad. The time before that was when Sarah broke up with me. There was also the time I was so stressed over exams I had a mini-breakdown and cried on her shoulders. The mango tree was my “life’s shitty, so leave me alone” spot.

She sat by my side.

“What’s bugging you, Mel?”

“Just tired,” I said. It was a lie, of course.

Janis nodded. “You weren’t home, last night, right? Cherry asked me to check on you, but I didn’t find you there.”

I shrugged. “Well, I wasn’t, but… why would Ceres ask you that?”

“Gee, I don’t know,” said Janis, with a hint of irony, “maybe for the same reason you’re lying in your depression spot under the tree, right now? I don’t know, Mel, I’m really bad at reading people, but Cherry seemed to think you’re not doing so great, lately.”

I sighed. “It’s Hannah.”

“I should have guessed,” said Janis, chuckling. “Heartache? Did you break up? If that girl is prejudiced I swear to god I’m not letting her get close to you again.”

“That’s the problem,” I replied. “I… she… I haven’t told her yet.”

There was a moment of silence. Janis looked at me as if I’d spoken another language, and she had trouble processing the meaning of my words. Then I saw her jaw drop when she realized what I had meant by that.

“You haven’t told her you’re trans?!”

I pursed my lips, feeling miserable. “No.”

“But… you’re dating?!” Janis sounded exasperated.

“Yes.”

“And you haven’t told her?!”

“Like I just said, Janis: no, I haven’t. Do I need to repeat myself again? No, no, stop looking at me like that, it’s not like it’s a crime or anything! I— I mean, there’s… there’s lots of trans people out there who aren’t open about that. With their partners, even. It’s not, like, wrong.”

Janis sighed. “No, it’s not wrong, and yes, there’s people who don’t come out to their partners, but you’re not one of those people, Mel. You’re out and proud. You’ve got a pride flag in your room and a tattoo with the trans symbol on your back. You’re an activist, you give speeches, there’s bloody interviews with you on Youtube! Do you want Hannah to find out about it from someone else? Because she will find out a—”

“I know!” I shouted, angry. “I fucking know that already, okay? I’ve lost count of how many times I thought it over.”

“But…?” said Janis, waiting for me to admit the truth even though she knew what it was already.

“I’m scared,” I said, my voice barely louder than a whisper.

Janis pulled me into a hug, and held me while I cried on her shoulder once again. How many times had it been, already? I valued the fact that Ceres respected everyone’s privacy and never overstepped my boundaries, but it was always Janis who pushed me to confront my problems, and I don’t think I could have gotten as far as I had without her meddling in my personal life.

“It’ll be all right,” she told me, caressing my hair. I nodded, and kept crying. “You know,” said Janis, after a moment, “for someone so sassy, Mel, you’re surprisingly fragile sometimes.”

Did I mention how annoying Janis was?

“I hate you,” I said.

“I love you too, Mel,” she told me, still stroking my hair.