“It makes absolutely no sense,” Nicole said to me as they pointed at the large-screen flat television mounted to the far wall of my living room, their Bolivian accent sharp with their frustration. “They’re not even trying to make movies that are believable anymore.”
Their legs were sprawled across my lap and a large bowl of mostly eaten popcorn was wedged between us and the back couch cushions.
“It’s a rom-com,” I replied, referring to the Netflix movie we’d just watched about two dimwitted friends who didn’t realize that they were actually soulmates until they accidentally fell head over heels in love—you know, the usual plot line. “They’re not supposed to be realistic. Plus, you picked it. The next movie we watch is going to have guns, explosives, and at least one eye patch.”
“Oh, because those are so realistic. Can you imagine the financial devastation the property damage would cause a city in one of those movies?” Nicole laughed and dropped their head back onto one of the throw pillows that they’d bought for my couch last Christmas in an effort to make my apartment look less “bro-ey bachelor,” as they often called it. Nicole wasn’t frilly or feminine; in fact, they were non-binary and used they/them/their pronouns, but they still had a lot of opinions on my taste in decor—or lack thereof. “I like action movies, too, but none of your other friends are going to make you expand your horizons, and you can’t just watch one genre for the rest of your life.”
I patted their shin and then gently pushed their legs off me so I could stand up. “I mean, I could, and probably be pretty happy about it.”
Nicole and I had met about five years ago at a happy hour for singles in our area, but we’d somehow skipped dating and landed right in the friend zone. I’m not even sure how it happened or why we never went out on a date, but the friendship piece came so easily that they were suddenly part of my life and my family. Soon Nicole was my plus one at weddings and family functions, and no one even questioned why we weren’t actually dating because they were so charismatic that everyone just loved having them around.
It had actually become a saving grace in a lot of unexpected ways. When you have a female-presenting, non-binary best friend that everyone immediately adores, they stop asking you when you’re going to meet someone and settle down, or giving you blank plus ones to events. It’s just assumed that if inviting Demetrius, Nicole’s coming too, and everyone feels too awkward to ask anything deeper than that.
And honestly, I’m perfectly fine with that.
Nicole watched me as I stood and stretched. “Can you grab me some water while you’re up?”
“Sure.” I headed for the arched doorway that connected my living room and kitchen—which was surprisingly large for a bachelor pad. If there’s one thing my mom had insisted on when I was growing up, it was that I knew how to cook. To this day, I’m still the only one in my group of friends who can do more than pour a bowl of cereal or slap together a sandwich—well, aside from Nicole, that is. They could cook the hell out of any Latin recipe that I, or anyone else, threw at them.
I grabbed a glass from the cupboard and stuck it under the waterspout on the front of the refrigerator, filling it for them. Before walking back, I scanned the inside of the pantry cabinets for something sweet, but nothing stood out to me.
“What if we order in from that new cookie shop you mentioned?” I suggested as I walked back into the living room and handed them the glass of water.
“Captain Cookie and the Milkman?” they asked.
I tried not to snort out a laugh, but honestly, the names that the young hipsters down in Clarendon came up with were getting more and more ridiculous.
“I’ve been wanting to try them, but I don’t want to pay for delivery when it’s so close,” they mused then polished off half of the water in a few quick gulps. “Let’s walk. I need to get my steps in.”
“Fine by me.” I switched off the television and slipped on my sneakers by the front door, then I grabbed my keys and wallet out of the bowl on a side table. “Ready?”
I glanced back at Nicole where they were putting on their shoes as I opened the front door.
“Almost,” Nicole replied, but when their eyes lifted to mine, they traveled past me, and the flicker of a smirk lifted one corner of their lips. “But, uh, you have company.”
I turned back around to see my ex-girlfriend standing in my doorway, her hand raised as if she was about to knock on the front door.
“Rhi?” I was both surprised to see her…and not. “What are you doing here?”
Rhiannon dropped her hand to her side, then pulled tighter at the belt around her waist, cinching her coat closed. It was pretty warm outside to be wearing a coat, but it was also pretty late in the evening to be showing up unannounced so I had a few guesses as to what her motivation might have been.
“Hey, Rhi!” Nicole was suddenly chipper and peppy, and I knew immediately things were about to go south for me. “It’s so nice to see you again.”
“Uh…” Rhiannon didn’t look so sure, glancing between the two of us. “Sorry to interrupt. I thought you’d be alone.”
“No interruption at all,” Nicole assured her, now stepping past me and linking their arm around Rhiannon’s to pull her farther into the apartment hallway. “Come with us! We’re headed down the street to get some cookies. Have you tried Captain Cookie and the Milkman yet?”
Rhiannon looked over her shoulder at me, and her expression reminded me of someone being held hostage. I could relate.
“Uh, I haven’t tried it yet,” she mumbled. “But, you know…I don’t need to go.”
“Nonsense,” Nicole replied, grinning wickedly at me now as we waited for the elevator to come take us down to the lobby. “Demetrius doesn’t mind. Right, D?”
I plastered on a smile. “Uh, sure. The more, the merrier.”
Rhiannon’s eyes had that bewildered deer-in-headlights look as she pulled down on the sides of her coat, trying to cover more of her bare legs. Is she naked under that? I tried not to think about it so I wouldn’t have any sort of physically obvious reaction to the thought. Instead, I cast an apologetic glance in her direction, but she still simmered with a low-grade anger underneath her flat smile.
“So, you two are still, uh, still hanging out, huh?” Rhiannon asked as the three of us stepped on to the elevator.
Nicole leaned against my arm and patted me affectionately on the chest. “We just don’t seem to get sick of each other, do we, D?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I joked, but my skin seemed to heat more and more with every floor we passed on the elevator ride down.
Nicole had long been a source of tension in most of my romantic relationships—including Rhiannon. I understood where they were coming from most of the time, because, hell, I’d feel territorial and jealous too if the shoe were on the other foot. Nicole was drop dead gorgeous, and there were few people—male or female—that didn’t find them stunning to look at. But Nicole and I had only always been friends.
Don’t get me wrong, I’d considered more than that many times. I mean, how could I not? Nicole was fiery and always kept me on my toes. Of course I’d love to date someone like them, but more than that, I loved being friends with them. My romantic history didn’t have the best track record, and I wasn’t about to jeopardize losing them from my life entirely if they became just another failed romance. Not to mention, I wasn’t sure what that meant for me or my sexuality if we were to date since I identify as straight and have always been attracted to women only. Nicole really tested that boundary for me though, and I was beginning to wonder if gender wasn’t more fluid than I had once thought.
Christ, I sounded like that rom-com we’d just watched.
“Doesn’t your sister live around here now, D?” Rhiannon asked a few blocks later as we approached the cookie shop. Thank God someone had broken the awkward silence that had been looming over the three of us for the last ten minutes. “I thought I saw her post on Instagram that she’d just moved.”
Nicole decided to step in and answer that one for me. “No, Yasmeen is a bit farther south of here near the Columbia Pike area. She’s opening her own bar—did you see that?”
“I’ve been meaning to go,” Rhiannon said, though I could easily detect the insincerity in her voice as I opened the door to the cookie shop for them both. My sister is protective of our family and when I’ve been in new relationships, she’s always put the person through the wringer. Rhiannon had been no exception to that.
“You should definitely check it out some time,” I encouraged, feeling that familiar stir of pride for all my younger sister had accomplished. It had been quite a journey for her over the last few years, and Black female owned businesses were far and few between here, but she’d come out on top like I always knew she would. “Yasmeen has done an incredible job.”
“She asked me to be a bridesperson in her wedding party, too,” Nicole added as we approached the counter.
Rhiannon’s face fell for just a split second before she quickly composed herself. She tugged on the bottom of her jacket again. “Oh, I didn’t realize she was getting married.”
“Next spring, yep,” Nicole added, before turning to the cashier and placing their order.
We all separately ordered, and I couldn’t help but feel like a dick for not paying for either of them, but it wasn’t a date. Picking up the tab for all of us felt weirdly intimate, and I wasn’t trying to go there right now with either of them.
Well, not with Rhiannon at least.
Christ, this was awkward.
Nicole ushered all of us to a small wrought iron cafe table outside in the courthouse pavilion once we’d grabbed our orders from the counter. Nicole and Rhi sat on opposite sides of a cafe table, and I pulled a third chair over from a nearby table to sit between them.
“So, what have you been up to lately, Nicole?” Rhi was halfway through her lemon poppyseed flavored cookie before she broke the tense silence at the table. At this point, we’d spent more time as a trio in awkward quietness than actually talking.
Nicole swallowed the piece of ginger molasses cookie they had. “I’m working on my cosmetology hours right now. I need more experiencing in waxing, so I’m doing this part-time apprenticeship at Kim’s Bare Limbs in Cherrydale—she’s the best waxer in town.”
“She’s who everyone at my Soul Cycle goes to,” Rhi agreed with a nod. “How’s it been going?”
“It’s okay,” Nicole replied as I kept my eyes glued to the rainbow sprinkle Funfetti cookie—don’t judge me—I had almost devoured in an attempt to keep my mouth full to avoid conversing. “It’s a very homogenous clientele, though. Like, I could strip the hair from a rich white woman’s asshole with my eyes closed at this point.”
I almost choked on the bite I was swallowing. “What?”
Nicole shrugged like it was nothing. “I really need more experience with other skin types and genders. I’ve only had one male client so far, and he was already pretty hairless naturally.”
“From what I remember, Demetrius is hairy,” Rhiannon offered. A small smirk lifted one corner of her lips as she leveled her gaze at me. “Why don’t you practice on him? I mean, you guys are best friends after all.”
The emphasis she put on her words was downright hostile.
Nicole was looking at me now, and the lightbulb in their eyes was terrifying. “Oh my gosh, that is such a good idea!”
I’ve made a mistake in bringing these two together, clearly.
“What?” I pushed back in my seat, the chair scraping the stone a few inches. “That is the worst idea I’ve heard today. And I am not that hairy.”
Rhiannon shrugged but her smile only got wider to fit more of her evil idea inside. “I mean, manscaping is all the trend lately, D. Plus, you’d also be giving your friend experience on Black skin, which clearly they are lacking in the sea of Caucasian buttholes.”
“That’s a very good point,” Nicole agreed, nodding along like they’d found their new best friend in my ex. “There are so many Caucasian buttholes, Demetrius. Just so many. I’d have Kim help me, if you’re worried. She’s an expert!”
“Oh, yeah, because that was my concern—not having enough people ripping the hair off my balls.” I pushed up out of my chair. “I’m going to get a six-pack of cookies to go before you two team up on me to paint my nails next.”
“We’re not done talking about this!” Nicole called out after me. “You need to learn to be more open to things outside of the norm! I’m texting Kim now!”
That’s it. I need more male friends in my life.