Page 36 of Fibre and Ink

Aster: it’s nothing like The Yellow Wallpaper

Aster: Hey, you made a literary refence, I didn’t know you could read

Joel: Rude.

Joel: my drag name is LITERA Lee as in literature

Joel: But I bet you don’t mind it because of dreamy big brother beardy boy

Aster: I’m blocking your number

Picking up a paperback from the shelf of books I settled into an armchair to distract myself from a) waiting around and b) obsessing over Mickey.

Option b) proved difficult because Mickey settled on the couch, put on some ambient music and picked up his knitting.

He was just right there, looking all handsome and strong while the needles of his knitting clicked together in a regular pattern.

The paperback I’d picked up was an early Stephen King which was both engrossing and pretty problematic so for the most part, I was able to focus on that.

An hour or so later, I had a notification from the print shop that my posters were ready, so I waved to Mickey.

“I’m headed to Hartsville. Okay if I take the truck?”

Mickey had been moody all morning, so it surprised me when he said yes.

“I guess I could stand to get out of the house.” He stood up from the couch and set his knitting down. “Can I come too?”

“Sure.”

I pulled on my boots and grabbed my wallet before heading out to the truck. It was a hot day, and Mickey’s T-shirt was dangerously tight.

I forced myself to look away. The drive to Hartsville wasn’t quick, was this a mistake? Mickey hopped into the driver's seat and I climbed in on the passenger side.

Once we were going, Mickey fiddled with the radio a bit before swearing softly and turning it off. The driveway up to the main road was rough, but the highway wasn't too bad once we were on it. The heat pounded down on us from outside so I flicked on the air conditioner.

“Aster,” he said. My name usually sounded great coming out of his mouth, but this time it had a portentousness to it. He wanted to have a Serious Conversation.

I cringe, figuring I knew where this was headed. “Yeah?”

“Um, so. I know it’s been awkward and everything, since... since the other night. I feel like I owe you some explanations.”

“Uh, you don’t owe me anything,” I said so quickly I stuttered. “Like I said, it’s fine to-to just... to just have done that once and not make a big deal of it.”

Mickey breathed out slowly and shook his head. “It’s not about that. Well, I guess it sorta is. But I haven’t been open with you about my last relationship or what I learned about myself from it.”

I blinked, doing my best to sound casual. “Yeah?”

Inside my heart was pounding with a sudden wild hope that maybe maybe we could have something more than friendship? Maybe it was a foolish hope, but I’ve often thought I’m not much more than a fool.

Maybe I should do some kind of jester drag routine? Sorta medieval comedy but make it sexy?

Stay focused Mickey is trying to share.

Mickey cleared his throat again. I glanced at him and then steadfastly turned my head to look out the windscreen, giving him space to work out his thoughts.

“My ex, Pete, he was, we were really happy for a while.” Mickey’s tone was dull, not like his usual speaking voice, almost gravelly. “He moved into the farm and stuff, he worked remotely so it was a pretty nice deal. We’d have lunch together, like... like you and I have been. I was in love with him, I thought? Looking back maybe I liked the idea of him more than I actually—” Mickey cut himself off and shook his head. “He wasn’t open with me, I know that. In response, I was I guess, pretty afraid to talk about what I wanted or hoped for.”

“Mmhm.” I kept quiet, but I wanted him to know I was listening.