Felix Ever After(40)

“I’ve been brainstorming,” I say, which is technically true.

“Have you guys heard the theory,” Leah says, “that aliens are actually just humans from the future, and that we’ve put ourselves into some sort of simulated world so that our future selves can observe us for an experiment?”

“No,” Ezra says slowly, “but now I’ll have nightmares about that for the rest of my life. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

James doesn’t look up from his phone. “You’re such nerds.”

Leah gives a confused half smile, like she isn’t sure if James is joking or not. “Well, you’re hanging out with us, so . . .”

“I’m not hanging out with you,” he says. “I’m hanging out with Hazel, who is hanging out with you.”

“Is it because you’re waiting on her so you can hook up in the supply closet?” Marisol asks. If she’s looking for a reaction, she doesn’t get what she wants. Neither bats an eyelash.

There’s an uncomfortable pause.

“I thought it was cool to be a nerd,” Ezra says, filling in the silence.

“According to nerds, yeah,” Hazel tells him.

Marisol shares her cigarette with Ezra. “I notice you didn’t actually answer the question,” she says to Hazel.

“Because it’s none of your business.”

It’s obvious what’s happening: Hazel wants to make Marisol jealous, and it looks like it’s working.

“But everyone knows that you’re hooking up in the supply closet,” Marisol says.

“Then why even ask about it?”

I can’t help but scrunch my face. “Can’t you go somewhere else?” I say without thinking. Eyes meet mine again, and I hesitate, but it’s too late to backtrack now. “I mean . . . that’s where we keep the canvases and paintbrushes and everything.”

“You don’t judge me; I don’t judge you,” James says.

There’s another awkward pause.

Ezra frowns. “What does that mean? Why would you judge him?”

James shrugs, still with his phone out, scrolling through Instagram.

There’s a tension building in my chest. James has always been a jackass. I mean, he deadnamed me the first chance he got. It wouldn’t be crazy to think that he could be homophobic or transphobic or any other sort of phobic. The silence stretches.

“Why would you judge Felix?” Ezra asks again, his expression carefully blank. Ezra’s always been protective of me, but especially now after the gallery, and when he knows I’ve been getting those Instagram messages, I’m worried about what might happen if the conversation escalates.

James shrugs again. “He’s just weird, is all.”

“I’m weird?” I repeat.

“You’re all proud of being weird nerds, right?”

“Depends on the kind of weird you mean,” Leah says. “Are you saying he’s weird because he thinks aliens are real and he likes anime and stuff like that? Or are you saying he’s weird because he’s . . .” She pauses, glancing at me awkwardly, but it’s obvious which words are stuck in her mouth: Black, queer, and trans.

“That isn’t what I meant,” James says, rolling his eyes.

“That’s what it sounded like,” Ezra tells him.

“Why does it always have to come back to that crap?” he asks. “It always comes back to that shit for you guys.”

“It really only comes up when dumbasses say ignorant shit,” Ezra says smoothly.

“I just think the dude is weird. That’s all.”

“Yeah. We’ve heard.”

“So, what, now I’m racist and all that shit because I think Felix is weird?”

“You know what?” Leah says. “Maybe. Yeah. It’s a possibility.”

James is turning red in the face. He was annoyed before, but he’s really getting angry now. “How the fuck does that make me racist?”

Leah doesn’t back down. “Would you think Felix is weird if he were also white and straight and cis? Or would you think he’s cool? You don’t even consider why you think Felix is weird, or anyone else who isn’t just like you—you just decide you don’t like them, and then get defensive when someone calls you out on it.”

“It goes both ways, right?” he says. “You decided you don’t like me because I’m white, straight, and whatever-the-fuck-the-last-word-was.”

“Cis,” Ezra says, staring at him blankly. “Cisgender.”

“And I didn’t decide I dislike you because you’re a white, straight, cis guy,” Leah says. “I decided I don’t like you because you told me lesbians aren’t real—we just haven’t met you yet.”

“It was a fucking joke,” James says under his breath. “It’s like no one’s allowed to joke about anything anymore. Jesus Christ.”

“It’s a joke to you,” Marisol says. “You get to make everyone else the butt of your joke. We don’t.”

James rolls his eyes. “All right. This was fun. I’m going upstairs now,” he says, giving Hazel a pointed look.

“Idiot,” Leah says the second he’s out of hearing.