"Oh wow...holy shit, I'd forgotten about this," Bea muttered.

Trent glanced over. He'd just finished making her bed. After what had happened, they felt it was only fair that they wash it. And while it had been going through the machines, he'd hung out while she had gone through all her stuff.

It was a really good time, and it had struck him suddenly that this was going to be a memory he cherished. He had known Bea for months now, and gotten to know her well, but there were still parts of herself she'd kept shielded. And, he was realizing, not even necessarily from him, but from herself as well.

"What is it?" he asked.

She was crouched over the final box in her room that she was unpacking. Apparently, when she'd moved into the apartment, she'd just given up on unpacking, and in the boxes a lot of her stuff had remained, untouched.

"I don't want to show you."

"Come on, I'm not going to make fun of you."

She sighed. "Yeah, you and Mae are different about that. Not that I can talk. She's really brought that out in me."

"She really has." Bea looked at him over her shoulder, lips pursed. "Am I wrong? The fucking sass you give me has increased exponentially since we met."

"Whatever," she said. "Only because I love you will I share this with you." Looking back in the box, she held up a book. He walked over and took it from her, studying it.

"The Cyber Wars...I remember these books. Vaguely," he murmured.

"Yeah, they were, like...darker Hunger Games? With more technology and dystopia. A little before actual Hunger Games' time. It's like, aliens took over the world, and run everything, and some teenagers get in touch with another group of aliens who help them launch a rebellion." She sighed. "I don't know, it's so...emo. So tragic. So edgy. I mean, it was aimed at middle schoolers. I was so into it when I was around that age, but like, when I hit tenth grade, I just had this change. Like I thought I was so much more mature than everyone else my age."

"Probably because you were."

"Yeah, I mean, in some regards. But it made me purge a lot of stuff. I donated or sold a lot of my old books. I thought I'd gotten rid of them all."

"Why are you embarrassed about this?" he asked.

"I'm a pretty serious person. I mean, we agree on that, right? That's generally the image I project, successfully, I feel."

"Yeah, I'd agree to that."

"And this is so not serious. I mean, it takes itself seriously, but it's, you know, edgy tween shit. Like how thirteen year old boys think cussing is the funniest, most grown up thing in the world. I don't know, it just feels weird."

"Like Johnny the Homicidal Maniac isn't edgy as fuck," Trent replied.

She laughed. "I mean, it is, but it's not the same. It's more...authentic? Anyway, I'm embarrassed. That's the takeaway. You probably think this is lame."

"Bea, I write fan fiction and play old video games all day, come on. I'm not a literary snob in any capacity. Entertainment is entertainment. Read what you want to read, play what you want to play. There's too much fucking bullshit in life not to. You should try reading it again."

She sighed. "You think so?"

"Yes. I do. I mean, if you really don't want to, because I get it, sometimes we age out of stuff, and not by choice, but just because we change as people, though there's plenty of stuff I thought was the shit when I was thirteen that I still think is actually good, then don't read it. Just because you liked it when you were in middle school doesn't make it shit. We're all just way more likely to enjoy...stuff of poorer quality because everything is still so new to us. And even so, who fucking cares if you like something that's cringe or poorly made? I mean, we just had this whole conversation about how you aren't going to hide our relationship. Don't hide what you like. Don't be embarrassed."

She was still hunched over her box of stuff, but now she'd stopped sorting through it. Abruptly, she turned fully around and took the book back from him, studying it for a long moment. "You're right. But...I'm curious."

"Yeah?"

"How are you just so...open, about your fan fiction? I'm not saying you shouldn't be, it's more just...it's a thing that a lot of people at least try, but would never admit to. Reading or writing. Like not in real life. Online? Yeah. But not in real life. But you've never hesitated to really talk about it. Really, you've never hesitated to hide any of your interests, for the most part. And it's so...not what I'm used to. I only ever see guys get excited about, like, football around town. Or getting drunk. Or sex. I don't know, cliché shit."

Trent shrugged. "I don't know. I just...do." He laughed. "Sorry I don't have a better answer. I just sort of do it."

"I guess that's how it is sometimes, but I have to say, it's a really attractive quality. Enthusiasm and fucking 'giving a shit' are two really attractive qualities." She looked down at the book again. "I should reread this...my mom got it for me, and it makes me think of her. You know, in a good way. People are always saying we should celebrate the good memories we have with those who have died, instead of just being sad that they're gone, and I want to believe that. I know it's what she wanted, because she told me so herself when she knew she was dying…" She paused, then blinked a few times and sighed. Sitting down on her bed, she wiped at her eyes. "Sorry," she muttered.

"Don't be," he replied, sitting next to her.

"You know, I cry a lot more since meeting you. And that sounds like such a shitty thing to say, but it seriously isn't. I cried a lot around the time it happened, and then I just stopped. I spent a long time just...being alone in my room. And you'd think I cried myself to sleep a lot, but I didn't, and I'm only recently realizing that I just walled off my emotions. I really told myself crying and thinking about it wasn't going to help anyone, but...it's not true. I just didn't want to hurt, but being allowed to be emotionally vulnerable around you and Mae, around Ann, Angus, even Gregg, it just...helped me break the walls back down. The crying has helped. I think maybe not the crying itself, but just the fact that I feel like I can. I used to think I was just wallowing in misery if I gave any time to those thoughts, and some people do that and it can be unhealthy, but it's just as unhealthy to ignore it. I miss her, a lot. And I hate that it happened. I hate it so much. It's why I don't really believe in God...mostly. My mom was a legitimately good person, and she fucking died from fucking cancer. It isn't right, in any sense. But she told me she wasn't afraid to die."

Bea laughed suddenly and wiped at her eyes. "She sure didn't want to, and she fought the cancer to the bitter end, and put up a hell of a fight, but she didn't die with any regrets. Not any big ones...I guess I didn't really listen. She told me it was okay to mourn, and grieve, and cry, but to move on. To accept it. Because it isn't right, what happened to her, and never will be, but it did happen, and I would have to live with it regardless, and she didn't want it to become this awful thing that haunted me. She said...it was okay to move on. It was okay to be happy…" She blinked and fresh tears slid down her face as she stared at the book in her hands.

Suddenly, she sniffed and wiped at her eyes again, then looked at him. "When we're done here, can we visit the graveyard?"

"Yeah, we can do that," he replied.

"Thanks...for listening."

He nodded and hugged her. "I'll always listen to you, Bea."

She smiled. "My mom would have liked you so much. I think she would've been more understanding about the whole poly thing. Probably. But she would've thought you were a pretty kickass boyfriend."

"That's good to know. She sounded like...well, you. Badass and hardcore and cool."

"It was a bit harder to see it back then, but yeah, she was cool. It's just that she was also very responsible and diligent. She was definitely more interested in being my parent than my friend...but it didn't stop her from being my friend most of the time. My dad...isn't a terrible parent. But really, I think he was mostly just out of his depth when it came to raising a kid." She looked over at the box again, then stood. "Okay, let's finish this."

Trent's phone buzzed in his pocket as they finished loading the last of her stuff into the back of his Jeep. In the end, she didn't have all that much. Two boxes, a backpack, and a suitcase.

"Is that your new girlfriend?" Bea asked with a smirk.

He sighed and checked it. Coincidentally, it actually was from Claire.

Hey, sorry I just stopped talking. I kinda lost my nerve. Also I'm bad at communicating via text.

"She specified that she didn't want a relationship. Just casual sex," he replied, typing in a response.

I understand on both accounts.

Bea snorted. "After she actually spends some time with you and you lavish her with attention and affection like you do, she's gonna change her tune."

"I doubt it, she seemed pretty adamant." He closed the trunk and they got into the front. "How would you feel about that?"

"I'd feel like we're getting a little crowded."

"Come on, seriously," he said, pulling out of the parking lot and making for the graveyard.

"Seriously? Hard to say. I'm admittedly a little at odds with the idea."

"Okay, expand."

"Well, on the one hand, I have the somewhat selfish concern that another girl in the mix will mean I get less of you. But on the other hand, based on the little I've seen of her, I like Claire, and she seems like she deserves to have fun with you and feel good. Especially if her brother is Chris, good fucking God. That guy." She stopped and got a huge grin on her face. "But dude! How fucking hardcore would that revenge be?! You fucked the girl he wanted and his sister?!"

"I wouldn't be doing it for revenge," Trent replied.

"I know, because you're a very nice person. But don't you think he deserves it?"

"I mean, yeah. He does. He's a stupid asshole. But I just, I don't engage with that kind of shit. I don't want to antagonize him. You saw how fucking insane he was."

"Still can't believe Mae straight up fucking decked the dude. So awesome...even a casual affair with Claire, I must admit, seems like playing with fire."

"True. But apparently I like doing that."

She laughed. "I guess so, if you're dating me and Mae."

He pulled into the side parking lot of the graveyard at Bea's direction a few moments later. Bea looked over at him a little awkwardly.

"Would it bother you if I asked you to wait here? This is kind of a...me thing," she asked.

"Not a problem," he replied.

She smiled and kissed him. "Thank you." She opened the door and stepped out, then stopped and turned back. "Also, don't feel weird about texting Claire while I'm visiting my mom's grave."

"Noted," he said. She laughed and then closed the door and headed off.

And as if on cue, his phone buzzed.

So are we still on for, uh, hanging out? Is everyone still cool with that?

He replied quickly: Yes to both.

I heard from Ann that you've got some kind of book deal now? If you're too busy, I'll understand.

He settled into his seat a bit more: No I'm not too busy. My schedule is pretty flexible and this is important to me.

A pause. Then: Why? Why am I important to you? And then, before he could respond: Is it just the prospect of pussy? And then before he could response again, he got: I'm sorry, that was so rude. I'm sorry.

If this was a few months ago, he would be pretty stumped on how to handle it. But after being in a relationship with Mae and Bea, he felt like he'd been forged in the flames of socially awkward or uncomfortable situations.

It's okay, I understand. I'm not mad. You're important to me because, based on what I've learned so far, you're a good person, and you're sad, and you don't deserve to be. And I'm being told I can help make you less sad, and that matters to me. And, yeah, I'll be honest: I REALLY wanna hit that.

A long pause, and he began to worry that he'd said the wrong thing, but then she responded with: Okay dude, that actually for real made me laugh out loud...thanks. I needed that. Okay, if you're serious, then come get me and take me on a date. Right now.

He glanced up. Bea was walking back from the graveyard. Okay, lemme double-check with my girlfriends that they don't want me for anything right now, and then I'll be on my way. If you aren't comfortable giving me your address, I can meet you somewhere public.

She typed in a reply: I appreciate that but honestly Ann has vouched for you enough. How about, I'll get ready, and you text me when you're on the way, and I meet you in my apartment parking lot?

He was a little surprised by that: Sounds good. I'll text you when I'm on my way.

Awesome, see you.

She texted him her address a moment later.

"So you look a little shell-shocked," Bea said as she got in the car. "What's up?"

"Uh...I'm going on a date with Claire, like...as soon as I drop you off back at home...is that okay?" he asked.

"Yeah! Like I said: girl needs some fun times and hard dicking from a safe guy. And that's you," she replied.

"You're sure you won't be annoyed? I'm supposed to be helping you move in…"

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, babe. You helped me plenty, okay? I can handle this. It'll be fun, and it's not like I'm in a rush. Go have fun."

"All right." She smirked, then giggled a little. "What are you fucking giggling about over there?" he asked.

"It's just, you're real cute when you get all nervous about girls. I don't know why, but you are."

"Glad you find it so amusing," he replied.

"Oh, don't pretend to be annoyed with me, mister. Like you can even complain. You've got three girlfriends living with you, and you're off to bang a hot older woman."

"I guess she is older," he murmured.

"I mean she's got a solid decade on me, that's older. But don't worry, you'll do fine. Just be yourself and she'll be all over that."

"I guess we'll see."