Heads turned to look at us as we stepped into the McDonald’s, and it took me a second to realise it was because Jethro was still dressed as Peter Pan. It was surprising how quickly that became normal. For me, I mean. It definitely was not normal for these people.

Jethro didn’t seem to notice, but he probably just didn’t care because I found it hard to believe he was worse at noticing people’s reactions to things than I was.

It was only a few moments before everyone’s attention returned to their food, though. Probably after realising Jethro wasn’t some sort of paid performer there to entertain their kids.

Jethro led me over to a table in the back corner. “Okay, what do you want?”

He was going to order for me? Wow, dates were great.

“A cheeseburger, large fries, and an orange juice.”

Jethro waved me away as I pulled out my wallet. “Nah, I’ve got it.”

“You’re gonna order for me and pay? I can’t think of a way to express my absolutely genuine appreciation for this McDonald’s date that doesn’t sound sarcastic, but I am sincerely thoroughly seduced.”

Jethro grinned. “I figured you’d prefer something lowkey.”

“Jethro, nothing is lowkey when you’re dressed like that, but I have no complaints.”

“I dress to impress.” He tilted his head from side to side in consideration. “Well, to impress myself, mostly. And you.”

“I am impressed.” Perpetually, and by a lot more than his tights.

Jethro grinned. “Okay, food time. Wait here.”

I immediately pulled out my phone and started messing around on it, not really doing anything, just distracting myself for the two minutes Jethro was away. There was something extremely challenging about just sitting and waiting, especially in public, even for a very short amount of time. I never knew what to do with not just my body, but also my mind. I put my phone away as soon as Jethro returned with the food.

“Thank you,” I said, and Jethro smiled, and goddamn he was pretty. I shoved a few fries into my mouth, chewed, and swallowed, and they churned in with the butterflies already dancing around in my stomach.

“You look nervous,” Jethro said. “Or something. I think you have extra emotions I don’t even have labels for.”

“Oh, no, they’re the same emotions, I just feel so many of them that they form compound emotions,” I explained. “This one is nervous attraction, where my boyfriend is so hot it activates my fight or flight instincts.”

Jethro propped his chin up on his fist and gave me an uncertain smile. “Thank you, but also that sounds kind of bad?”

I nodded thoughtfully as I slowly chewed another fry. “It’s… a thing to deal with, I guess. Like, when I first got Pippi I was so excited about it that it actually made things worse for a while. I was obsessed with getting a dog, and then everything to do with taking care of a dog and training her. It was all I cared about and I was thinking about it so much that I couldn’t sleep or focus on school. I loved her so much that until I’d worked it out of my system a bit it was actually kinda destructive.”

“Oh,” Jethro said. “Are you having those problems now because of me?”

“No,” I said. “This is different, it’s just… I’m trying to explain how good things can be bad things for me but also still good things, you know?”

He didn’t look like he knew, but he was watching me so intensely it was clear he was trying to.

I pressed my lips together for a moment and thought. “I think, for me, nothing can only heighten good emotions. When I really care about something, it loops into anxiety and other things as well. But that doesn't mean it’s bad, or… uh. I mean I don’t like it, but it’s not like…”

He was still just watching, waiting calmly. He took a sip of his drink.

“The only way it could not happen is if I didn’t really care about you that much. And that obviously wouldn’t be better. I think I’ll probably get less anxious about all this over time. Just, you know… I don’t want you to think it’s because you did anything wrong when it’s just because I like you so much.”

“No, I think I get it. It’s like when you’re so excited about something that you can’t sleep the night before. Not being able to sleep is bad, but it doesn’t make the thing itself bad.”

“Exactly.” I took a long drink of my orange juice. “I feel like I don’t have a good range of emotions. Like it’s hard for me to feel a normal amount of things. Almost everything I’m either indifferent to or have strong feelings about. Like I invest so much energy when I do care — mostly about dumb shit — that I just can’t afford to care at all about some things.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Jethro said. “I don’t really get too much anxiety, but I do burn myself out. I have all the social enthusiasm of an extrovert, but I don’t think I actually am one. Like, you know how they say extroverts get energy from socialisation and it’s the reverse for introverts? It costs them energy?”

I nodded. “Those are things I’ve heard, yes.”

“I enjoy being around other people, and it gets me feeling energised, but underneath that I’m burning through my energy reserves. Before I met you, I always imagined that if I dated someone they’d be kind of similar to me when I’m at maximum energy. Most of my friends are like that. I liked the idea of having a relationship, but I was worried I’d get overwhelmed and be a bad boyfriend.”

“You’re a good boyfriend.”

Jethro smiled. “Thank you, Casper. So are you.”

“Thank you,” I responded, which was good manners but if the way he bit down on his smile was any indication, maybe a kind of awkward response.

“You know, sometimes I’ll be doing my homework and my phone will bing to let me know someone texted me and I’ll just feel so tired. Like, I’ve spent all day at school hanging out with people and I’m ready to unwind and just be on my own and I don’t want to get into a conversation. And then I look and it’s you, and you’ve sent me another picture of the gecko that lives behind your desk, and I feel so much better.”

“I felt kind of bad that I never have much to say and I just send you weird pictures of lizards. I’m glad to find out that’s actually your preferred way to be communicated with.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying don’t talk to me about things, okay? If you want to talk to me any time about anything, I’m down. We’re talking now and I’m loving it. I just wanted you to know that the quiet stuff…” Jethro shrugged and gave me a gentle smile. “That’s nice too.”

I nodded, because I didn’t know what to say, but I took a mouthful of my burger before I did it so that I would have the pretense of having my mouth full. I was a fucking grandmaster of having terrible social skills.

“And I know I talk a lot and send you a lot of messages sometimes,” Jethro continued. “If that’s ever too much, just let me know and I can dial it back. I don’t ever want to overwhelm you.”

“Nah. I’m bad at thinking of things to say, but I like hearing from you. I like that you can keep a conversation going all on your own.”

Jethro propped his chin on his hand and smiled at me. “I want to ask you something.”

“Okay.”

“Before I ask you this thing, I want you to know it’s okay to say no. It really is.”

Well, that spiked my anxiety. “Is this a sex thing? Because I have a master’s degree in theoretical sex.”

Jethro laughed. “No, Cas, it’s not a sex thing.”

“Mm. Okay.”

“I wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out a bit more often. Not, like, every day or anything, but we usually only see each other once a month and that’s not a lot and I miss you.”

“Oh,” I said. “Okay.”

Jethro was staring at me intently, like he was trying to read my mind. Even from him, that made me uncomfortable. I shook the last of my fries out of the cardboard sleeve and began taking it apart.

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic about that,” Jethro said. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. Really.”

“No, it’s okay, I just…” I waved my hand in a vague gesture and my face tightened. I didn’t know how to explain the slight panic mode Jethro’s suggestion had sent my mind into without making it sound bad and like I didn’t want to see him more often. Because I was pretty sure I did. “What would that involve? Like, how often and what would we do and everything.”

“Literally anything you want, Cas.”

“Ah.” I tore the cardboard sleeve along its seam as a vast world of uncertainty and indecision engulfed me. “Ah.”

“Did I fuck up?” Jethro asked. “If you don’t want to, it really is okay. It’s not a problem.”

I could feel his anxiety seeping into me, and it wasn’t helping. Without meeting his eyes, I reached across the table and patted his shoulder, then just left my hand there. Fuck I was weird.

Jethro placed his hand on top of mine and rubbed my knuckles. He waited, silently, while I thought.

“I complicate things,” I said eventually.

“Okay.”

I dropped my hand away from his shoulder and returned it to tearing the cardboard apart. “Or I guess that’s what other people would say. I think things just are complicated, and somehow other people just… ignore that. Or it’s like a complex math problem that I’m struggling with, but they know how to do it so it doesn’t matter how complicated it is.”

“Maybe you could explain what you’re having trouble with and I could help you?”

“There are so many different options in this situation. How do I know what to do?”

“Well, what do you want?”

I shrugged.

“Hmm,” Jethro said. “What don’t you want?”

“I don’t think I can go out and do stuff very often. Or be around people besides you too much. Sometimes, but… not too much.”

“We could just hang out at my house, or at your house. I don’t care what we do. Seeing you is the only thing I care about.”

“That makes sense. When?”

“I don’t know. On the weekends sometimes?”

“Which weekends?”

“That can be up to you if you want. Just let me know if you want to hang out one weekend and I’ll make time for you.”

“Oh, fuck no,” I said, and then immediately realised that was fucking rude. “Sorry, just… making decisions. I don’t like it and if we do things that way, every time I see you I have to make a decision and then I have to talk to you about it and that probably doesn’t sound like a big deal, but it really is. Sometimes it’s the hardest part of doing things.”

“I’ll try to remember that. Would you prefer to do it on a set schedule? Like every other weekend or something?”

“Yeah. That. That’s good.”

“Your place? My place? Alternating?”

I groaned, folded my arms on the table, and buried my face in them. Which was bad. That was a bad thing to do. I was fully aware that it was weird, but my brain had just collapsed in on itself and decided to stop functioning.

Jethro was silent. Did he think I was crazy? I felt a little crazy, sometimes. 

Eventually, I sat back up. “Sorry,” I said as though nothing weird had just happened. “Uh… I guess alternating would be the most balanced, even though I go to your place on the second Friday of every month so it’ll never be completely even.”

“Okay, makes sense.” Jethro looked deep in thought, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip. “Asking you questions seems to stress you out, so I’m going to make a suggestion instead because, uh… maybe that’s better? Is that better?”

“Uhh… yeah, probably, I guess.” Though I was really particular about weird shit and ended up shooting down other people’s suggestions a lot in a way I was well aware was annoying as fuck.

“Well, if we’re going to alternate we have to choose whose place to start with. I suggest we start with yours, since you seem to want to balance things as much as possible and we’ve only been to mine so far.”

“That is the objectively correct answer to that puzzle, yes.”

Jethro raised his fists in the air in victory. “Woo!”

“Sorry, I know it’s stupid and annoying. Believe me. I know. But if you were ever wondering why I’m tired all the time… that’s why.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid or annoying,” Jethro said. “Really, Cas. I don’t. I think sometimes it’s just like… a disconnect between what matters to you and what matters to other people.”

“Everything matters to me.”

“Nah, not really. I took you on a date to a McDonald’s dressed as Peter Pan and you had no problems with that.”

“Why would I have a problem with any of that?”

“There are people who support me and people who don’t support me, but I always feel like… like that’s a decision they have to make. A decision they have to keep making every time I push the line of what’s socially acceptable in a different way. But I always just feel like you never really care.”

“I care. You look great in those tights.”

“Thank you. I agree.” Jethro smiled. “But I guess it ties back into what you said before. How you just don’t have the energy to care about some things.”

For a long moment I just looked at Jethro, and then I noticed he looked kind of worried and I realised I was frowning at him, which didn’t align with what I was feeling at all.

“Sorry,” I told him. “Sometimes my face does the wrong emotions. I was thinking about how I really like that you listen to me and like… remember the things I say. It’s nice.”

“Yeah, of course. Thanks for telling me all that stuff. I know you’re not big on talking.”

“Oh, yeah, my psychiatrist probably hates me. I treat him like a fucking faith healer I don’t believe in. Like oh, yeah, you can heal me with the power of magic or, like, Cognitive Behavioural Therapy? I will only believe you if you can somehow do it while I don’t believe you and am not cooperating in any way.”

Jethro laughed, but he looked a little concerned. “Maybe you should find someone else if he’s not helping?”

I shook my head. “No, he’s fine. I guess I’m being unfair because he has helped a bit. I just feel like I’m wasting everyone’s time because I’m not good at talking about stuff. Or… not even just not good at it. I don’t like it so I don’t really try.”

“You’re talking to me right now.”

“It’s easier to talk to you. You just listen. If you tell a psychiatrist you have a problem, they try to get you to fix it because that’s their job. But I don’t want to do that because it’s hard, so I’m uncooperative, and everyone is frustrated because I’m not doing the things to fix the problem I said I had. So I just don’t talk about my problems to begin with.”

Jethro nodded his head. He looked so serious. “That sounds like it’s probably not a healthy approach, but I don’t know much about mental health so I could be wrong.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely not, but I think sometimes things can be the best you can do even if they’re not the best thing to do. And whether or not it’s good enough, our best is all we can do.”

“That makes sense. I agree.”

“And I guess that’s what I’m doing with our relationship, too. There are things I know I’m doing wrong and then I’m sure there are so many other things I don’t even realise I’m fucking up horribly. But I’m doing my best and I just have to hope it’s good enough.”

Jethro reached his hand out and placed it over mine. “It’s good enough, Cas.”