The bell above the door rings as I finally exit barber’s place.

Ronnie’s head snaps my way. His lips part. “Woah.” He says.

I chuckle. Resting a hand against my hip, my weight against my leg, I ask him: “Bad woah or good woah?”

“Uh…” Sliding his phone back into the right pocket of his bright blue sweatpants, he scratches his ear and averts my gaze. “Impressed woah?” His voice cracks. “I mean… Y’know, you just look really… different. More like—”

“More like me, right?”

Ronnie hooks a hand around his neck. He nods. “Actually, yeah? I mean, it was also nice before, but I guess I always felt like it was kind of off too.”

Taking a step forward, I give his shoulder a squeeze. The morning breeze ruffles my newly cut bangs. I smile. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

We walk back to the parking lot in silence. Ronnie’s hands are shoved in the pockets of his orange sweater. “Still,” he sighs. “I didn’t think you’d actually get it shorter than mine.”

“Come on,” I smirk, “undercuts are way cooler than just letting it hang above your shoulders. Plus,” I turn around to face him, bring my hands to the back of my head, and walk backwards. “It’s nice when you feel the wind against your skin. And,” I wink. “I look like a badass now.”

He snorts. “Yeah, a badass twink.”

I frown. “Why do you know that word?”

“And why is that the only thing you got from my remark?”

“No,” I shake my head and laugh. “You are not avoiding that question. Come on! Tell me! I have no friends! I won’t be able to spread the word even if I try!”

Ronnie rolls his eyes. We both stop in front of his car. “Geez, what does that make me then…” He mutters.

“My next-door neighbour. The guy I sometimes see. The guy weird enough to believe me when I say I’m in the wrong body.”

“You know,” he pauses. “You should stop saying that.”

“Why?”

“They’re the weird ones for claiming they know you better than you know yourself. Besides, I really don’t care if you’re cool and preferably not a serial killer. So, stop it.” He reaches for my face, pinches the bridge of my nose and snickers. “Idiot.”

“Dumbass.”

Ronnie twists his key into the car’s lock and opens the emerald door.

“Hey,” I say, as he hops into his seat, and as I mirror his actions.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

Smirking, I lean in and give his leg a friendly kick. “Still not gonna tell me about that twink porn you watch?”

“Hey!” He shoves me away before starting the engine. “Look,” He groans. “You know how straight girls sometimes watch lesbians? Well,” Ronne averts my gaze. He scratches his cheek, and I swear his face is red, and not just from the cold. “It’s kind of like that…” He says, his voice low.

“Oh!” I hit my open palm with a closed fist. “Cause it’s forbidden and stuff?”

He nods, eyes darting left, then right. “Y-yeah. So that’s all there is to it really, I wasn’t hiding some part of my sexuality, or whatever.”

I laugh and give him a pat on the back. “If it can make you feel better,” I say, “I watch the tentacle ones sometimes.”

Ronnie chokes on his spit. “Dude, what?! How do you even—”

I shrug. “I dunno, man. Sometimes things get a little weird when you’re horny.”

As he crushes the car’s pedal beneath his foot, he sighs again. “Yeah, okay, I’m not gonna deny that. Anyway,” Ronne clears his throat. We exit the parking lot. “I assume I’m not taking you back yet, and that you’d rather leave your brother’s ultra-scary reactions for later?"

“Which ones?”

“The ones that’ll definitely come when he realises it’s not a wig.”

“Ha! Right, those ones.” A grin takes my lips. “You know me too well. It’s almost like we’re friends or something.”

He laughs. “Strange, right?”

The car bumps up and down. Ronnie speeds up as we reach a highway. “Guess that settles it then,” he says, “I’m taking you out for fish and chips.”

“Cool. What’s the occasion though?”

“My best buddy’s finally being himself.”

The words hit me harder than I thought they would; my chest feels all warm now, what the hell?

“Ronnie… Thank you.” I say. “Really.”

Ronnie doesn’t reply. Instead, he just turns on the radio and hums along to the tune of a stupid pop song, as he continues to drive with a smile plastered to his lips.