This is How We Change the World Ch. 04

She pored over his literature. Lyric was no stranger to hate-reading something, and this was something she most definitely hate-read. She fumed, her mood darkening as she went, and in the back of her mind she was already adding at least two johns a month to cover the cost of getting her own internet access. The timing would be suspicious, so she thought that she'd maybe keep one device on his network, showing some traffic to let him think she hadn't caught on, but in her mind she was done with him. It would be worth a little juggling to make sure he didn't make life in her building harder for her.

Would she need to have sex with him two more times to avoid any ugliness, or three? Was it even possible to avoid at this point? Would she need to move?

He was gatekeeping her, paternalistically granting her access to things she would struggle to afford on her own as long as she behaved, just like he wanted to gatekeep trans kids at schools. Buried in civil language that infantilized trans boys and branded trans girls as dangerous sexual deviants, there were policies and changes outlined that would have gotten Mr. Liefler fired. It had been a long time since she'd thought about the guidance counselor who had supported her. Kept her confidence. Connected her with a clinic. Saved her life.

She made a mental note to write him a letter. He deserved to know that she wasn't dead.

Any amount of thinking about her time in Chicago, and especially high school, was likely to send her into an emotional spiral not because Chicago was a worse city than New York but because of the memories. There was so much negativity attached to everything from that period of her life, but buried in all of that had been one adult who treated her with respect and dignity. The language in front of her would strip him, and others like him, of the ability to help the next trans kid down the line, or scare him into compliance with the threat of lawsuits.

It was all so polite, but so ugly on the inside. People like Dave were the reason she struggled to afford basic amenities, and why the free city services she relied on were getting underfunded at every turn. It was one thing to turn a blind eye to paying two landlords; it was something else entirely to give her labor, her time, effort and expertise, to a transphobe.

Lyric didn't react when the door opened behind her.

"That's a cute top," Maddy said, as she sauntered in the door. "Did you get all dolled up on my account?"

That she had gotten dolled up for him made her nauseated.

"I had some ideas," the redhead said, suggestively, as she gently set down her bag. "I even bought myself a little notebook so I could write them down if I have them when I can't immediately just tell you."

Lyric sat in silence. Her face was still hot with embarrassment and fury. None of that was Maddy's fault, but the emotions were so close to the surface that she didn't know how to express anything without letting those out as well. She tried to let it go, tried to be present in the moment, but so much of her near future was in jeopardy of one kind or another that she kept spiraling off into the weeks and months to come when she wasn't falling into dark memories of her past.

"I also brought cheesecake," Maddy sang, as she opened the refrigerator door.

"Not hungry," Lyric said, tersely. Then she sighed, turned her head slightly so she wasn't just talking to the wall in front of her, and said, "I'm sorry. I'm not..."

"That's okay," Maddy said. "I figured you'd already eaten."

She hadn't.

"I just... I was sitting there at the restaurant, and we were doing this-- you know what, that doesn't matter. What matters is that I started imagining, like, watching your lips as you ate something really soft and creamy. It's one of the ideas, actually. Number twelve." Maddy gave a happy little sound, and added, "You know, I can't remember the last time I've felt so... inspired. Ready to try something. Something that's my own, you know?"

"I--"

"Not mine mine," Maddy said, interjecting. "Yours. I just mean, I can add something that might make a difference. Like, a material difference. Also, I got way ahead of myself one night and started thinking about branching out and offering my services to anyone else you know? Anyone you approve of? Like, you've talked a lot about how trans girls get into sex work to get by, and how lonely that was for you, and I thought I might be able to help somehow? Do, like, flat rate stuff for filming and editing."

"I don't know anyone else that..." She trailed off in apathy. This was mostly true. She had some suspicions about some of the people at group, but nothing in the way of concrete proof and certainly not enough to even broach the subject. She didn't know any of them very well, and some people took that kind of insinuation badly.

More than anything, though, Lyric just couldn't muster the energy to participate in an upbeat conversation, and she didn't know how to say so.

"That's okay," Maddy said, as she came around and flopped onto the couch next to her. "Like I said. I was getting waaay ahead of myself." She turned at the waist, smiling at Lyric and reaching up to trace a finger through her curls. "Is something wrong?"

Lyric immediately saw how complaining about this, the logistical problems that was Dave, would turn into a complaint about her finances, which Maddy might maybe possibly take as her complaining about the lack of Maddy's help, and she didn't want that. She had no right to ask Maddy for money, and Maddy owed her nothing. Her brain was buzzing along at a million miles an hour, trying to think through different ways to say yes that didn't involve lying and didn't involve money.

Maddy tilted her head, and said, "You're not up for shooting."

"Noo," Lyric said, but Maddy didn't let her get anything else out.

"It's okay, it's okay. I mean..." She deflated a little. "Try to hear this in the way it's intended. I'm disappointed, but not because I need you to do anything or be anything, or... or be any specific way when I need it or want it. I just... I was looking forward to tonight. I have a good time with you."

Lyric nodded glumly.

"Does that make sense?" She moved a little closer, smiling playfully and wincing at the same time. "Am I an asshole for saying that?"

"No." It took a long breath to gather her wits. "I was looking forward to tonight too. I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"I don't know," she moaned. "I just... I felt like I needed to make tonight count, and then..." She trailed off, still stymied at trying to express her frustration without adding any guilt.

"You don't have to put on an act for me," Maddy said.

There was such honesty in her eyes, and if Lyric had been in any less severe a mood she wouldn't have been able to resist kissing Maddy right then and there... but she was. She was, and she couldn't, and so instead she just leaned into the redhead. Maddy leaned right back.

After a few minutes, Lyric turned on the TV, and they settled into more comfortable positions. For a few hours, Lyric laid with her head in Maddy's lap, and at her request they watched something sad so she could cry a little. Maddy seemed to intuit at least some of it but she didn't push, for which Lyric was grateful. Even after hours of letting her mind dwell on other things, she still had no idea how to broach the problem that was Dave.

The more time went on, the more embarrassed she felt, and even though she was a little horny later and Maddy was all dolled up herself, she couldn't bring herself to say anything. She didn't feel like she deserved it, and so, when they went to bed, she let Maddy kiss her on the forehead and rolled over.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd wanted one of her days off to just be over.