“You had a question about what?” I asked. When in doubt, echo back what someone’s just said.
“Earlier, when Oscar asked if we should be sitting together...did you want to say yes? I felt like I’d sort of stomped on whatever you were about to say there.”
“Oh, no, it’s fine.” Sidney noticed too much was the problem. They shouldn’t have been able to tell I’d had that flash of disappointment.
“Well.” They seemed to hesitate. “I think it’s fine either way? Ultimately, I mean. But I guess it’s important to me that we’re doing something that works for both of us. And I really enjoy sitting next to you, so I didn’t feel totally ambivalent, but I also didn’t want to disrupt the whole table at that moment.”
“Sure, me neither.”
Silence for a long moment.
“Declan?”
“Yeah?” I swallowed.
“I need to be able to trust that you’d tell me if you wanted to do things differently.”
Their voice hadn’t gone full Spinster Uncle, but had acquired a level of detachment. Semi Spinster Uncle, maybe. Decaf Spinster Uncle.
“I like how we’re doing things,” I said, trying to keep a high, defensive pitch out of my tone. “Don’t you like how we’re doing things?”
“I do. I really do. I like that I feel comfortable on the phone with you, and that I can think clearly when you’re in my space, that your presence doesn’t distract my brain until I’m just coping.”
I nodded, even though they couldn’t see it. “Yeah. It was really nice having you at drinks, even not sitting next to each other. Nice to hear you talk, and laugh.”
“And we’ve avoided the Drinks Curse since I’ve been a few times now.”
“Omigod. We have! I’ll have to text Mase later. Wow, go us. It’s different, though. I mean, from situations where the Curse was in effect.”
“In what way?”
“Um...” I stretched out, cradling the phone between my ear and my pillow. “First, will you tell me where you are? Just so I can try to picture you?”
“Oh. I’m in my bed. That sounds more, um, salacious than I intended. And before you ask what I’m wearing, an old pair of sweats and a Sia T-shirt.”
I grinned. “That still sounds pretty hot.”
“It’s cozy. What’re you wearing?”
“Boxers and a thermal shirt. The in-law unit isn’t all that well insulated. Also in bed, by the way.”
“Yay for beds. Tell me how I’m different from other victims of the Drinks Curse?”
“Maybe that you didn’t come to drinks as a significant other? You started coming as a, like, friend. Communally. Wait, that sounds a little weird.”
They giggled in my ear. “I don’t think I’ve ever been a communal friend before, but it sounds fun. Are blindfolds involved?”
“Not at the Hole! That’s a fine, upstanding establishment. Communal sharing of friends is only permitted in the private back room.”
“I’m trying really hard not to make any of the obvious jokes right now,” they said after a pause.
“I admire your self-control.”
A huff of laughter.
“Anyway,” I continued, “you know what I mean. You weren’t there as my date. You were there because you go to drinks now. You would, even if you and I weren’t dating. Right?”
“True. So you think that protects me from the Curse?”
“It sure seems to be. We haven’t incorporated a new permanent member to the Motherfuckers...ever. We’ve had some people come and go, and a lot of people drifted away in the months after graduating from college, but the five of us have been together since we were, like, twenty. Huh.”
“That’s really cool. I don’t have friendships that have been that consistently close for so long. Definitely not in person.”
“Yeah, I’m glad none of us moved away. Oscar talks about it sometimes, and Mia and Ronnie might when they decide to have kids, but it hasn’t happened yet.” I cleared my throat, daring myself to tell them that I would have booted Mason out of his seat in a heartbeat if I’d thought they wanted to sit next to me as much as I’d wanted to sit next to them. But in the end, I couldn’t say it. Didn’t know how to say it without sounding needy and weird. And it seemed like they’d forgotten they asked, which was probably a win. I promised myself I’d be honest—or at least try to be honest—if they brought it up again. “So um...you don’t have a lot of close friends?”
“Not the way you do. The way a lot of queer people do. It’s like some queer superpower that completely missed me. I’m not very good at keeping people around.”
“Except Arman?”
“Because he’s stuck with me, I guess.” They paused and I wished I could see their face. Was it doing the same slightly yearning thing it had done the first time we’d gone to drinks and Mase and I had been goofing around? “I was so used to being alone that it became the thing that felt...safest, I guess? It always made me a little sad, that I didn’t have this amazing chosen family. But I also wasn’t sure how to...do that. How to find those people. How to be close to them if I did find them.”
“Huh, yeah. I think I just got super lucky? If I hadn’t been roomed with Mase, I seriously don’t know what would have happened.” What a horrible thought. I tugged the covers in tighter around my shoulders.
“I’ve been thinking about his concern, how hard it would be to bring someone new around, but even now that we’re dating, you guys seem comfortable having me at drinks. I don’t pick up any...aggressive vibes from anyone. Or jealousy.”
“No way. I think he’s been attracted to some real asshats is the problem.”
“Present company excluded.”
“Dude. I left the man at the altar. And he looked good in that suit too.”
“I’m sure he did. But since he doesn’t consider you an asshat, I think you insisting on it reeks of unhelpful guilt-flailing, not productive accountability.”
“Oh my god. Um.” I swallowed, glad for once we were in separate rooms so I could pull the blankets over my head. Ouch. And also valid. Which was the worst kind of ouch.
“Er, sorry. I just spinstered at you accidentally. I try to only do that with consent.” They cleared their throat. “I mean, I can’t take it back. I meant it. But I shouldn’t have said it. Anyway, I’ve only had good experiences at drinks with the Motherfuckers.”