Chapter 7
The Pointed End
Buffy enters The Bronze with her business face on. I know that Big Carl waved her in without making her queue because Big Carl has waved her in every single night since he witnessed her at The Harvest. She catches my eye and I tip my head towards the offending customer.
She nods and makes her way steadily through the throng of dancers until she is face to face the vampire. A lusty smile and shake of her hips, and she has his complete attention. Her hand trails down his smug face, settling on his sternum and she gently dances him back to a dark corner.
I have her mocktail ready as she reaches the bar, dusting her hands. An extra cherry on a stick.
"And that's the problem with men." She sighs, taking a seat at the bar "Ya just get all worked up and poof! all done."
"I should be offended on behalf of my entire sex, but… I mean fair call." I say, busying myself with an order. "Anya did inform me once that men are, in fact, the worst."
"What ever happened to her? Did she stay skedaddled".
"Shes back in town. I think she goes to Sunny U with you. I saw her the other day on campus."
"Speaking of back, remember Harmony Kendall?"
"Ah my second least favorite of the Cordettes." I reminisce. Hold the phone. "Back? Harmony died at graduation."
"Yeah well, she is officially now your type."
"Remind me which of the two of us dated a vampire here?"
"Okay, fair. Our type, then. But the heads up stands, demon magnet."
She smirks victoriously. I let it slide. Honestly I am picturing Harmony trying to seduce a meal and all I can think is thinning out the population of the dumbest, most desperate jocks in Sunnyd borders on a mercy killing. Call me bitter if you must.
"Wait, a sec." Buffy says. "what team do you even play for now?"
"Huh?"
"I mean are you gay now?" she spells it out, slower.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh.
Huh.
So I find myself coming back into focus a moment or two later. I am frozen to the spot, head tilted like a dog trying to figure out algebra.
Buffy is leaning lazily on one hand, looking rather amused at me as she scrapes a cherry off a cocktail stick. A brow is up.
"I, I am straight." I say, putting down the glass carefully so I don't drop it. Buffy's other brow goes up. She keeps looking at me the same way. "Straight straight."
"Do you mean straight straight as in a straight girl or, straight straight as in a straight guy?"
I am nodding in circles.
"Okay, reboot Xan. Do you like boys or girls?"
"Girls." I say quickly. "Of course."
"Why of course? I mean, you got flipped pretty hard there Xan. Maybe all your sexy brain wiring got all flipped too? I don't know." (Sip)
"Please, this is my workplace, Buff. Can we please leave my sexy wiring for other conversations, hi hello what can I getcha?"
The customer is a tall, buff guy with a serious Ken doll vibe, right down to the haircut. He orders a diet soda and focuses his attention on Buffy, who after side eyeing him, suddenly lights up with recognition.
"Oh, hey. Riley, right?"
"Yeah. Riley Finn. Maggie Walsh's class? I saw you from over there and, thought I recognised you. From the class."
I roll my eyes and give the guy his soda. He doesn't look up, just keeps chatting awkwardly to Buffy, so I take his bill and tip myself the change. One look at Buffy's body language and I can tell hands down that she is definitely neither dating or interested in the guy. Joyce got her info wires crossed somewhere.
Wires. I sigh and turn my attention to uncapping a fresh vodka and fitting a pourer. I know I should probably offer Buffy an out from the situation, but she has skillfully turned the conversation to psychology and, my god, the words are long and some of them are in German so I just back off and look busy.
Which throws me face-first back into Buffy's question. I realise it is hard for me to answer because I am juggling three things. First, the whole straight thing implies my own gender. Boys for girls. Girls for boys. Simple and straightforward, right? I skid to a halt on this one because I… have to admit I am rather confused on the matter, and that alone is one scary can of worms to pry open. Or a box of demon spiders. Take your pick.
If I were like... Ghost Xander, driving a girl's meat puppet around, then that would be a simple answer. Ghost boy is a boy, regardless of puppet. But it feels way more complicated than that. Buffy was right. Whatever the curse or spell (or whatever) did to me, it was physical. It affected my brain, and I my hormones or whatever. Everything is different now.
I am strangely, well, I wouldn't say comfortable, but… I mean, it doesn't feel so strange being this way. I should feel, like, I don't know the word for it. Super weird and icked out. But…
I rub my fingers through my hair and let out a puff of air.
Okay, skipping part one for now, being "what's my gender", do I still like girls? I know I hastily answered Buffy but, suppose... just suppose I let open said box of demon spiders, I hafta ponder question two.
I always liked girls. A lot. I noticed them early and often. My hormones kicked me into hyperspace the first chance they got and each sexy girl who passed me just kept on kicking me back up there. It was a constant, aching need. Completely consuming and distracting.
I realise I haven't felt, you know, sexy thoughts since… well, midway through the crazy flaming wreckage of my road trip. I certainly haven't let my hand wander like it used to... for, confusion reasons sure but I just haven't felt like it.
Flipped you real hard, Buffy had said.
So I look at this Riley guy. Chiselled? yep. Handsome? Undoubtedly. Faith would have called him a "real beef stick", and yeah, well that just sits ill at ease in my gut. I think about him looming over me, hands gently holding my small shoulders as he leans in and tenderly presses his…
"Nope." I shake the image out of my skull as best I can. "Nope. Noooo. No."
Well, perhaps you just ain't into this one guy, a treacherous little voice inside my head says. I pour myself a shot and wash my own mouth out.
Buffy had shaken off Mr. Plastic by closing time, and had made her score two for two on the dusting front, suddenly and blatantly ramming home Mr. Pointy into the back of a flame haired girl she passed without breaking a stride.
"Don't do drugs." Buffy quipped to the two stunned guys that the vamp girl was talking to before she exploded and vanished before their eyes.
"Mind if I walk you home?" She said, looping her arm through mine.
"Best offer I've had all week." I smiled wearily, thankful of my golden haired guardian. "Throw in a slap up dinner and who knows I may even put out."
"Does Doublemeat Palace count as 'slap up'?" She says.
"The real question is does Doublemeat count as actual food?"
Buffy deposits me safe and sound back to my motel room and bids me goodnight. I watch from the first floor balcony as she strolls off across the neon streaked carpark, casually twirling a stake.
I linger a while after she vanishes from sight, breathing in the cool, rain freshened air. My belly is full, my back pocket full of pay and my limbs ache in that good sort of way. Dawn is creeping up over the horizon, and the day will begin shortly.
Alexander Leville Harris was straight. Unquestionably. As an arrow.
But Alexandra Hart? Well… all I can say for certain (after dwelling over the subject for the duration it takes to eat two burgers and a shake) is that she isn't exactly straight.
And I know that much because whoever Alexandra Hart is, she is hopelessly crushing on Buffy Anne Summers.
