Summer Nights

The cheap plastic medal dangled around Aoi's neck knocking against his ribcage with every step. He examined the garish silver surface and then sniffed. "I can't believe you lost."

Tsubasa grinned, her hands looped casually behind her head as they walked to the station. The cool night air chilled the sweat on her body but Aoi could still see wet patches clinging to her chest. He tore his eyes away from the sliver of bare skin visible on her stomach. "We didn't lose," she replied, "we came second. That's still a win."

"The other team got free ice cream," Aoi retorted. He shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of Tsubasa's jacket and wondered if she wanted it back. It was pretty cold, a leftover from the spring weather. At least the sky was clear. Aoi stared up at the dark sky gleaming with the opalescent light of the moon and stars.

He scowled and hunched further into the citrus-smelling lining of the fabric. No, if she wanted it back then she shouldn't have given it to him in the first place. Peering up at her, Aoi felt his heart skip when he realised she'd been watching him. There was a dopy smile on her face too, the kind people usually don when they're looking at a particularly small animal.

Immediately on the defensive, Aoi snarled, "what are you looking at?"

The smile only grew wider and her gaze very clearly dropped, dragging over him from the pin in his hair to the tips of his lilac sandals. "You look really pretty in my jacket."

Aoi felt his cheeks flame like someone had lit a match under his chin. He lashed at her and only the awareness of the time kept him from yelling. "Shut up! Don't say stuff like that out loud! Have some shame! Men aren't pretty!"

"My bad, my bad," she laughed as she blocked his flailing fists and finally caught his wrists lightly. "But I'm not lying."

The boy hissed like a cornered cat wishing he could wipe the redness from his cheeks and that stupid look from Tsubasa's face. Girls weren't supposed to look like that. Men weren't supposed to be pretty. He thought of the colourful wigs he had locked and hidden away in his room, safe until his father's next raid.

Aoi stared at their joined hands. Tsubasa had long fingers, the skin pink from the recent game and stiff. His hands were white, skin soft and free of blemishes from years of moisturising and exfoliating. Why was he like this? At least if he was gay he'd have an explanation, but he wasn't. So why couldn't he just be like all other guys in his class? Why couldn't he be tall and strong and interested in the right things?

"Aoi?"

He blinked and focused. Tsubasa watched him with concern in her eyes. Aoi's lashes fluttered as he came back to himself and he pulled one hand free to check that his mascara hadn't run. Tsubasa turned her head away to give him some semblance of privacy. Then she brightened at something in the distance. "Hey, do you still want something to drink?"

Reasonably assured that he hadn't actually started crying enough to ruin his mascara and vowing to invest in a better water-resistant brand, Aoi turned back to her with a confused frown. "I guess I could. Why?"

She pointed down the street and Aoi spotted the bright flickering sign of a department store outside of which stood three different vending machines. Up close, Aoi realised that the first one contained snacks, the next was filled with milk, coffee and juice cartons, and the final one was stocked with soda bottles and cans.

After debating for a moment, he primly selected a juice carton and waited for Tsubasa to grab her soda can before stabbing the straw into the top and viciously gulping down the mango-flavoured liquid. Tsubasa watched him over the top of her drink as she waited for the soda to stop fizzing over. "Wanna share what's got you so annoyed?" She asked.

"Not really," he muttered back around the straw in his mouth. Tsubasa hummed quietly but didn't push it. The department store chimed as a small group poured out, all wearing uniforms of the winning team from earlier. They were laughing, some with their arms around girls in their jackets.

One of them caught sight of Tsubasa and beamed good-naturedly. "Oh hey! Nice game!"

"Same to you!" Tsubasa accepted the ensuing bro-fists and high-fives with a matching grin. "I thought you all went out for ice cream?"

"Most of us did but Daisuke's boyfriend is lactose intolerant," he jerked his thumb over his shoulder at two boys with their fingers intertwined. One of them blushed incriminatingly. "So we decided to get snacks and maybe hit up a karaoke bar before it gets too late. Oh, do you wanna come with us? You can bring your girlfriend too!"

Aoi hunched his shoulder further as attention turned to him. One of the girls smiled encouragingly at him as if to establish some female solidarity. It would have been a sweet move but, "I'm not her girlfriend," he replied coldly in the most masculine voice he could manage. Then, without waiting to see their reactions, he spun around and marched off.

As he walked he heard Tsubasa apologizing and making promises to hang out some other time. Then he heard her running to catch up with him which didn't take long and soon she was level with him. "What was that all about?"

"Did I interrupt your male bonding? You can go back, I'll get home myself," he snapped.

"Aoi?" Tsubasa narrowed her eyes and then she got in front of him. Aoi tried to go around her but she was faster and stronger than he was which only made him angrier. Finally he stopped trying and just glared at the ground mutinously. "What the hell are you so mad about?"

"Nothing, why do you even care?" He scowled.

"You're my friend! Like it or not, I like you, and that means I want to help you! I want you to be happy as often as possible! So you can either tell me what's wrong or stand here and watch me guess it."

Aoi frowned. "We'll miss the bus."

She made that same dopy smile. "I'll carry you home if we do."

For a few more seconds he tried to hold onto that anger but it had burned itself down into a just another disappointed ember. He exhaled and wrapped his arms around himself. "Does it ever bother you?"

"Does what bother me?"

"This," he waved a hand over her general appearance, "people assuming that you're a boy, or that you're gay."

Tsubasa blinked bemusedly. "I am gay."

"...never mind, this was stupid," he turned away.

"No, no! I think I get what you mean!" She ran a hand through her choppy hair. "I don't...I don't feel bad when people assume that I'm a guy, or that I like girls, but I feel bad when people tell me I should act a certain way or dress differently. Dressing this way, doing the things I like, these things make me feel good. I feel comfortable, and I'm not hurting anyone."

Aoi remembered the quiz from the magazine. "So you don't dress like that because you like other girls?"

Tsubasa shrugged. "Some do. Sometimes it doubles as comfortable clothing and a sign, but you have to be comfortable first. There's no outfit that 100% equals a certain gender or sexuality. Short hair is supposedly masculine but lots of women have it. Skirts are feminine but some men wear them. I could wear a face-full of makeup and high heels and I'd still be bi. You could wear a bright pink tutu and still be straight."

He'd heard this before, from self-help websites and magazines, but for some reason hearing it from a real person gave words more weight. Aoi huffed and looked away for a moment. "Whatever. Let's go. If we missed the bus you're buying me actual ice cream."

Whether due to speed or sheer luck, they managed not to miss the bus. Tsubasa's stop was further on from Aoi's but she hopped down when he did and walked with him to his gate. He paused there, in the spot where they were still hidden by the wall. The lights were on, bright yellow behind the heavy curtains and seeping out where the fabric didn't quite meet.

"I'll see you on Monday," Tsubasa said, already starting to back away. "Goodni-mmph!"

Aoi jumped backwards, lips tingling and face flushed. "Don't think this means anything! Go home!" With that he sprinted to his front door and slammed the door shut.

On the street, Aoi touched her cheek, tingling from Aoi's sticky kiss. She could almost smell the mango. Dazed but making a very real effort to not start skipping and screeching with excitement, Tsubasa stumbled in the direction of her house.

Inside Aoi's house, the boy banged his head against the wooden door and wondered if it was too early to start planning his own funeral. Then he realised he was still wearing Tsubasa's jacket and sprinted up the stairs to hide it amongst his other belongings before his dad came to ask about it.

Sorry, I started a new job which means I work late at night. I realise how that sounds lmao no I'm a waitress and the restaurant I work at closes at 2 a.m. I took a day off which is how I'm able to write this.