you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.
you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.
he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.
a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.
he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.
you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.
people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.
wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.
also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.
he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."
you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.
"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."
he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.
you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.
is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?
you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.
3K notes
·
View notes
Fluent Freshman - Part 44
PREV
The flight up to New York is a pleasant one.
The time in the airport itself had been less pleasant. Matt, as it turns out, is a firm believer in arriving with just enough time to check a bag, get through security, and get to the gate. He had claimed up, down, left, and right that he had it down to a science.
No matter how many times Smith had wondered about the scientific rigor of this 'science' he still kept it to himself. There was no need for Smith to voice his uncertainty with this plan because Kevin well and truly had it covered.
"You're giving us only an hour to check bags, get through security, and get to our gate?!" Kevin demands.
"Kevin, if you wanted to be there earlier then you could have asked Andrew to give yo a ride." Matt says. "We'll be fine."
"You know what Neil and Andrew get like when they have a long roadtrip ahead of them." Kevin argues.
"All lovey-dovey?" Nicky asks as Aaron makes a gagging sound.
"No, well yes, but no they always stop and buy all of the worst food too." Kevin reminds. "I'm just concerned about us missing our flight! We have barely enough time!" Kevin huffs crossing his arms.
"You're wrong anyways." Aaron says idly as he continues to text with Katelyn.
"How am I wrong?!" Kevin demands.
"We also have to park within that hour that Matt has left us with." Aaron says looking up from his phone.
"Matt!" Kevin squawks.
"It'll be fine." Matt reassures for the 2nd time.
"We all have checked bags!" Kevin exclaims, "What if we miss our flight?!" he wails.
"It'll be fine!" Matt repeats.
"No it won't!" Kevin exclaims.
---
It was fine.
The only real delays they met were at security.
Smith prided himself on being efficient in the security line. He has his watch off, his phone and ID secured in a zipped jacket pocket, his backpack and electronics in separate trays, and his shoes ready to be slipped off.
So he was shamed to have been the cause of the first delay when the TSA agent wouldn't wave Smith through the metal detector since she didn't realize he was there. That had been a whole anxiety attack and a half as the line had formed up behind him all wondering what the hold-up was.
Finally she seemed to startle as she realized that Smith had been standing there waiting and waved him through.
The other delay was that Kevin got patted down after he had forgotten to empty his 'emergency' water bottle.
It was probably for the best that they didn't have to be in the airport for that long. Every announcement that it was very important to not leave your bag unattended made him worry that with every blink somehow someone had slipped a bomb into his backpack.
While it was on his back.
As he was running with the rest of his friends to their gate.
"It just had to be the gate on the other end of the terminal." Aaron huffs.
"It would have been 100% perfect if someone hadn't left their water bottle in their bag despite the, let me check, 3,820 signs that said remove all liquids from your carry-ons!" Matt says as they continues to run.
"I said I forgot!" Kevin yells back from his spot at the front of the pack. Smith was under the distinct impression that Kevin was keeping pace with them since he had seen the Striker move much faster on the court and during warm-ups.
"We could have forgiven that!" Nicky pants, "Why did you have to slam the whole thing to prove that it was 'just water'?" he asks.
"Because I wanted to prove I wasn't a national security threat!" Kevin says. "I'll be going to the Olympics in a couple years and I can't have that on my record." he continues as he rounds a corner.
"What record?!" Smith asks suddenly worried that there was a record.
"Smithy, there's no record Kevin's just an idiot. An idiot who got patted down, tested for explosives, and had his carry-on searched." Nicky huffs.
"You don't know that there's not a record! The record everything nowadays!" Kevin huffs and their gate is in sight.
"Kevin, just shut up!" Aaron exclaims as they reach the line for their flight.
"Wait why aren't any of you getting shitty with Smiths?!" Kevin asks.
"His delay was like a minute and more importantly NOT HIS FAULT!" Nicky defends.
"He should have just walked through!" Kevin argues.
"Oh it's fine if he gets a record but not you?!" Aaron asks.
"So there is a record?!" Smith asks again.
They reach the line and the largely empty area around their gate is more than enough evidence that this was the final boarding. Smith breathed a sigh of relief as he took his place in line behind Nicky.
"The lines pretty slow, I'm going to go get a water." Kevin says and before any of them can say anything he is off towards a busy looking Newsweek store.
"I cannot believe him." Aaron huffs.
"All that water he just drank and is about to drink? He has lost window seat privileges." Matt pants wiping sweat from his brow.
"Agreed." Nicky says.
Smith laughed between panting breaths. His stomach hurt a bit from the stress of running but it was fine.
They get on the plane without Kevin and head to their seats. Most of the overhead storage is taken up at this point but Smith slides his bag under the middle seat in front of him after Matt
In the end, Kevin barely made it onto the plane in time since he got caught up in deciding on water. "You're in my seat." Kevin says as the only man not yet seated.
"I am not about to spend this flight getting up every 2 minutes because you have to pee." Matt says, "Abby didn't used to need to take all those pitstops when we're on the bus." Matt adds.
"I hate the aisle, the cart could hit my legs." Kevin argues.
"Then you can sit in the middle if Smith's willing to move." Matt says.
"You can have the middle Kevin." Smith offers actually preferring the aisle seat since then he doesn't have to ask anyone to move for him.
"I hate the middle seat, there is no room." Kevin crosses his arms.
"Smith is like only 3 inches shorter than you and he's not complaining." Matt continues.
"It's an important 3 inches."
"I bet it is."
"Nicky, are you serious?"
"What?!"
"There is an uninvolved member of the public, right there."
"He's wearing headphones it's fine!"
---
It's fine.
Eventually Kevin takes the middle seat if for no other reason than Matt stubbornly pretends to go to sleep but absolutely does not want the aisle seat either.
Smith gives it up and ends up with his own preferred seat while Kevin pointedly takes both of the arm rests, as is his right. The plane ride progresses smoothly from there. Smith has always liked flying. There is always a sense that the second that he gets onto the plane and the door closes he has absolutely zero control over what happens afterwards.
That is a nice comfort.
He pays attention to the safety briefing, finds his nearest exit, and that he should secure the bag over his own face before securing it on Kevin's.
He puts his headphones on and tries not to think about the anxiety of meeting the 'girls'.
He has heard much about the 'girls'.
Allison Reynolds. Allison was someone who's legacy existed even outside of the team. Smith didn't know much about fashion but a Reynolds bet remained a solid practice within Palmetto. She was, undeniably, absolutely gorgeous and if Kevin was to be believed 'kind of a bitch'. Nicky had swatted his arm but had said that it was not entirely inaccurate but like 'in the best way'.
Dan Wilds. He met Dan. Dan was nice. Also, if Matt was to be believed, the best human to ever walk the planet earth. The reason the sun rose in the east and set in the west. The gravitational pull that held the universe together. If Andrew is to be believed, she's fine.
Renee Walker. Renee was the one who taught Andrew how to use knives. His friend has talked warmly of her, in the way that Andrew talks warmly about anyone which is mentioning them at all. She was the one that Smith was the most anxious about meeting.
Kevin turns his nose up at the ginger ale that Smith gets but he's allowed these now per his actual doctors orders.
1 hour left until arriving at JFK.
He hopes this ginger ale is enough to calm his stomach since he's still not allowed Pepto.
MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU
NEXT
174 notes
·
View notes