The thought of having to interact with yet another person from my past made me want to vomit. But if there was one thing Chestnut valued above all else, it was neighborly hospitality, and as much as I wanted to pretend I wasn’t home, I also knew whoever was at the door wouldn’t be fooled, considering my car was out front.
So I picked myself up off the couch, dusted my sorrows away, and opened the door.
I was greeted by a man who looked right around my age. He was taller than me by a couple of inches, putting him around a solid six feet, and had scruffy honey-brown hair that was shaved on the sides, but wild and wavey on top. His familiar brown eyes were warm and inviting, and his full lips that were parted into a smile quickly melted into a confused frown when he saw me. He was all dressed up for some reason--a light button-up with a simple pattern, paired with a nice pair of black jeans, and some dress shoes. His outfit hugged his round belly, which had grown more prominent since high school. And then I noticed that his hands were gripped tightly around a bouquet of flowers, a beautiful grouping of vibrant yellows, oranges, and reds.
It had been eight years, but damn, he cleaned up well. And as surprised as I was to see him, of all freaking people, I knew I had to collect myself and clear the too-long silence that had taken hold of the air between us. So I said the first thing that came to mind. “Aw, for me? You shouldn’t have.”
He shook his head, seeming to bring himself back down to reality, and cleared his throat. Still as awkward as ever. “Oh, um, are you-? I mean, is Dawny here? Oh, crap, I mean, um-” His voice shook slightly as he spoke, and he ran a large, pale hand down his face.
Of fucking course.
After my run-in with Kathy, I shouldn’t have been surprised that he didn’t recognize me either. But I guess I had just assumed that Duncan Lange, the boy who had been my best friend for basically our entire childhoods, would have clocked me much faster. Granted, I had basically abandoned him when I left Chestnut in favor of LA, and thus broke off all contact, but I don’t know. I guess I was more different than I thought.
Which meant I was faced, yet again, with the same dilemma I had earlier with Kathy. I could tell him, out myself, risk him freaking out, and accept my fate in becoming the first out transman to ever grace the streets of Chestnut, and all the crap that came with that. Or, I could lie once more, because it wasn’t like I was ever going to see Duncan again, and I was planning on getting the fuck outta dodge the second I was able to sell the run-down shit my parents left me when they died anyway.
Besides, at the end of the day, I had no idea how Duncan felt about trans people, and I didn’t particularly feel like getting beaten up. Not that I thought he would beat me up, but there were definitely people in town who would, and if Duncan told anyone…
Best not to open old wounds, anyway.
I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. “I’m afraid not. Just me. Those for her, then?” I gestured to the flowers.
Duncan tightened his grip around the stems of the flowers, his knuckles practically white. “Yeah… Um… Who exactly are you, then? Are you her… I mean, is she your…? Are you two…?”
I fought back the urge to laugh. I had missed that awkward nerd. More than I wanted to admit. “Uh, no. I’m Liam. The contractor. I’m going to be fixing up the place, getting it ready to sell.” Not exactly a lie, just omitting the truth a little. It felt shitty, but it was for my own safety. Probably.
“Oh. Nice to meet you, Liam.” Duncan pulled his free hand out of the pocket of his jeans and offered it to me, which I took in the spirit of pretending to be a stranger he didn’t know for most of his life. “I’m Duncan. Dawny and I have been friends for forever. I mean, we were. I mean… Oh, Dawny is-”
I held up my hand to stop him before having to be subjected to the horror of my deadname. “Dawson. I gathered.”
Duncan cleared his throat awkwardly. “Right. Is she home, then? Or will she be coming back? Can I wait for her?”
“No,” I responded, probably a little bit too quickly. I shifted in my work boots. “I mean, she’s pretty busy. Probably won’t be around these parts for a while, anyway. For now, it’s just me.”
“Oh.” Duncan looked down, the disappointment ever evident on his face. “Well, do you, um… Do you have her current number, by any chance? I just want to give my condolences.”
I quickly weighed the risks in my head. It wasn’t like we had any bad blood between us, Duncan was simply an unfortunate casualty from when I had to split town. But if I did give him my real number, and he happened to catch my phone going off in response to his message, the whole charade would be off before it really began, and he would probably react worse knowing I didn’t tell him right away.
So that left me one option.
“I’m afraid it’s not my place to give out a client’s number. But if you have another way to contact her, I can give her a heads up to look for it.”
Duncan visibly deflated. “Oh. No, yeah, I get that.” He cleared his throat and thrust the bouquet out towards me. “Well, I got this for her to liven up the place, but I guess since she isn’t here you can take it. Maybe let her know I stopped by, and I’m sorry to hear about her parents. I don’t know.”
I blinked a few times, taking the flowers into my hands. “Um. Ok.”
The melted expression on his face squeezed at my heart, and for a brief moment, I thought about blurting out the truth. But then I remembered the prying ears of my neighbors, and I imagined them chasing me out of town with pitchforks like the picture Onyx had so eloquently painted for me, and fear settled in my veins.
“Well, I shouldn’t take up any more of your time. It was nice to meet you, Liam.” Duncan waved goodbye, and I mindlessly waved back. He disappeared before my brain could finish playing catch up.
Thus, my fated reunion with Duncan had come to an abrupt end. And I had no idea whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. I had no idea if I was ever going to see him again--or if I even wanted to see him again. I had no idea what to make of his flowers, or him seeking me out, despite the pain I almost certainly caused him all those years ago. All I knew is that he was still the same kind, thoughtful person I had fallen for all those years ago.
And I straight up lied to his face.
Fuck.
Ok, so I was going to have to process all that later.
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