Phoenix (3 page)

bottom lip again. “Yeah, it can be to the untrained eye,” he

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Phoenix

said with a laugh, shrugging and pulling both his knees

close to his chest, pressing hard at the ribs there. Devon had

to wonder why he was doing that.

It struck him then that he had a lot to learn.

* * * *

Blake should have been feeling very uncomfortable with

Devon being so close to him and laying all over his bed like

this, but it felt oddly natural, like that was just how his

roommate was normally and it wasn’t something to

question. The guy was mildly attractive, about five-foot-nine

and thin with a soft, eager face and laughing blue eyes.

“So how far along are you?” Devon asked, and Blake

quirked an eyebrow at the way that question was phrased

but he shrugged it off.

“This is my third semester,” Blake said with a nod.

“Damn, I’ve got some catching up to do,” Devon joked,

and Blake clenched his jaw around another laugh as he ran

his hand through his hair.

“Is everything a joke to you?” he asked. The question

itself could have been harsh if his tone hadn’t been so soft

and genuinely curious.

Devon just shrugged. “Most of the time. ‘S how I cope, I

guess. I’d rather things be funny than really serious,” he

stated with another firm nod.

“Wish I could do that, too,” he said with a laugh that

sounded more like a scoff.

“You could, y’know,” Devon said as he turned from his

back to his stomach, perching his chin on his hands and

looking up with bright blue eyes. “Just kinda let it all slide

off, don’t let things bother you.”

Blake laughed and shook his head, fidgeting with his

hands. He was wondering if Devon had picked up on any of

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Joey James Hook

his tics yet. “Easier said than done,” he told him, his voice a

little bit firmer than it had been before.

It really was. He was a bit on the sensitive side and he

knew it. That was mostly because he’d been bullied a lot in

school for being what he was, and despite the fact that it’d

made him stronger—hell, he fought back whenever people

tried nowadays—it still made him timid. He hated it. It was

probably the result of growing up in a small town in Illinois.

Everyone fucking knew each other, which was why he was

glad he was now in California.

“Well, I will teach you, young padawan,” Devon told him

in a stern tone, and Blake stifled a laugh as he shook his

head.

Blake knew he was off to a good start as he rebutted with,

“I’m sure you will.”

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Phoenix

lake’s first class was entirely too early, but luckily he

B had it with Ethan so the other man was able to elbow

him and keep him awake as he drifted off. The guy’s voice

was just so monotonous that he couldn’t help but fall asleep.

“I swear,” Blake muttered as Ethan poked him with his

pencil again, “if the actual class itself wasn’t so interesting,

I’d have dropped it weeks ago.”

Ethan laughed softly and shook his head. “No, you

wouldn’t. You’ve never dropped a class in your life,” he

said.

Blake quirked a small smile and conceded with a soft,

“True.” He was just too stubborn to bow out when he knew

he should have. He hadn’t failed a class since he’d come to

college either, so it couldn’t have been too bad of a strategy.

The sun was trickling in through the high bay windows

he and Ethan always sat next to, and the warm rays were

dancing along his face, teasing him with sleep again as he let

his head loll back a little. He stared out into the courtyard

absently, and saw Ethan’s roommate was surrounded by a

bunch of girls who were hanging all over him, laughing and

pawing at his bared biceps.

He rolled his eyes in disgust and turned his attention back

to the lecture. He’d never been that kind of
girl
, even before

he’d come out as trans. He’d never been the kind to fawn

over people, giggle stupidly and throwing himself out there

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Joey James Hook

just to be fucked over. No, he’d always been the one running

through the weeds and making mud pies while his mother

yelled at him about getting his clothes dirty.

Sure, his friends had tried to get him into dolls and shit,

but he’d never had that much interest. He’d preferred the GI

Joes his father had stashed away in one of his cabinets, and

after begging him to get them out, they’d become his

favorite toys. He’d refused to wear dresses, even though he

liked pink. That had been his father’s one defense about his

gender identity. His mother had never given him grief about

it, but for some reason his dad hadn’t liked the idea of

suddenly having a son.

Liking pink color didn’t mean he stuck with the gender

binary. He loved blue too—hell, he loved most colors—so

that wasn’t exactly a solid argument, he thought ruefully to

himself. His father had this insane tendency to get on that

very last nerve.

Why was he thinking about this all over again? He swore

he’d pushed it all back to the back of his mind. He rubbed at

his face and let out a quiet groan that got lost in the

professor’s monotonous lecture, thankfully.

“You okay, B?” Ethan asked as he nudged him gently, his

tone one of soft and best-friend concern, and he nodded,

letting his head fall into the cradle of his arms.

“Just thinking too much. I shouldn’t be thinking at all this

early in the morning,” he mumbled, smiling slightly as he

felt Ethan’s palm spread against his upper back and begin to

rub at his thin black t-shirt. He couldn’t really feel the heat

through his binder, but whatever. It was the thought that

counted.

“What’re you thinking about?” Ethan asked

“Just…shit about my dad,” Blake muttered into his arms,

and he could very clearly see the rueful smile that came onto

Ethan’s lips in his mind without even looking up to see it on

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Phoenix

his face. “This whole Devon shit’s kind of triggered the

whole gender thing again,” he said, his voice even more

quiet as he tacked on, “I dunno why.”

“Does he remind you of your dad?” Ethan asked, and as

Blake looked up he could see that his best friend’s attention

was totally on him.

He shook his head. “No way. He’s way too goofy and shit

for that, I think it’s just that I’ve been stealth for so long and

having someone come in and get all confused because the

RA’s a dick, it’s just fucking with my head I guess,” he

explained with a shrug. Being
stealth
—having people not

know about his transgender issues and treat him like who he

was as a man—meant a lot to him and he didn’t want to

sacrifice that. “I was able to pass so well up ‘til this point. It’s

frustrating and I feel like I’m back to square one.”

“Well, if you want, Dominic’s got football practice and a

party tonight, so maybe you can come over and we can

watch movies all night or whatever? Just like old times,”

Ethan offered, a smile on his face that was both easy and

encouraging.

“Yeah, that’d be awesome,” Blake said with a smile,

nudging his best friend’s knee with his hand, the one that

was hanging off the desk. He always felt a surge of

gratefulness for Ethan, especially when he knew just how to

derail his breakdowns.

Ethan had been there for him from the beginning. They’d

met in high school, Ethan being the outcast femme gay kid

and Blake being the weird butch who went by a male name.

They’d gravitated toward each other because they were both

complete misfits, and they’d built a strong bond. People

thought it was weird how Blake was always the one to

defend Ethan, but as far as he was concerned, they were on

an even keel. He’d die for Ethan.

He must have dozed on those thoughts, because the next

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Joey James Hook

thing he knew, he was being nudged amidst a bunch of

shifting. He lifted his head and rubbed at his eyes with a

groan as Ethan stood beside him.

“C’mon, sleepyhead,” Ethan teased him, and he gave him

a small smile as he stood slowly, stretching out with a heavy

sigh.

“What’d I miss?” he asked, his tone groggy as he

remembered with a strange clarity the way he’d laughed at

Devon’s stumbling mess of a wakeup routine. He probably

looked just as ridiculous right now.

Ethan shook his head as he slung his backpack over his

shoulder with a grunt. He always had a lot of books with

him at all times. “Nothing, we were just going over the

reading, which I assume you’ve already done,” he said.

“Yeah, a couple days ago, actually,” Blake laughed,

running his hand through his hair and grabbing his

messenger bag. It was black with very small, fine pink

pinstripes and a bunch of patches and buttons all over it,

mostly obscure metal core bands and a couple mainstream

rock bands. He was very into music.

“See, so it’s no big deal,” Ethan laughed, beginning to

lead the way out of the lecture room and into the halls.

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I kind of didn’t fight it,” Blake

said in return, keeping his eyes on Ethan or on the ground.

He didn’t do well with eye contact, because to be honest,

half the time it felt like people were scrutinizing him and it

made him squirm.

—-

“Didn’t you sleep last night?” Ethan asked as they walked

through the hall, nudging him with his elbow. Blake looked

up at him and he saw that same concern reflecting in his

green eyes.

He just smiled sheepishly and ran his hand over the back

of his neck. “Not really. I needed to finish my term paper for

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Phoenix

Personality Psych,” he replied, but he knew that probably

wouldn’t fly. He’d finished most of it in Ethan’s presence

over the weekend.

“I thought you finished that!” Ethan called him out on it.

Blake sighed and gave him a pleading look. “Fine, I just

couldn’t sleep because I felt weird about sleeping in the

same room with Devon,” he muttered, looking back to the

ground.

“Aw, baby,” Ethan said in a tone of empathy, and Blake

shook his head a little, sighing and crossing his arms over

his chest. He hated when Ethan pulled that tone out because

it made him just want to crumble and admit every thought

that had been going through his head.

“You know I don’t do well with new people,” he said

quietly. Ethan just slid his arm around his back and nodded

silently. They left it at that.

As they walked down the hall, they passed a group of

girls, all congregated around one corner. They were all

blonde except one brunette, and they were all wearing either

short skirts or skinny jeans and shirts that were low-cut

enough to show cleavage.

Blake had never understood how he was expected to be

like them. He wasn’t anything like that—even before he’d

started binding his chest, he’d never done that. He was

small-chested, so he hadn’t had to worry about that, but the

idea of wearing a skirt made him shiver with disgust.

The way these girls acted was as foreign to him as being

female or wearing a dress. The idea that he should have

been like them, giggling and fucking with their hair as they

gossiped about the latest football game and who was dating

whom, made him feel like hurling.

“C’mon, Blake, let’s go get some food,” Ethan’s voice

broke into his thoughts, and he nodded as he turned his

attention away from them and let his best friend lead him

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Joey James Hook

away from another mindfuck he didn’t need to be a part of.

“D’you know what they’re serving? I’m so sick of pizza,”

Blake lamented, trying to get his mind back into non-gender

mode, crossing his arms over his chest protectively.

“Um, I’m not sure. Probably pizza again,” Ethan said with

a soft chuckle, and Blake huffed.

“Stupid dorm food,” he grumbled.

As they walked down the hall, Blake’s shoulder slammed

into someone else’s and he was thrown back against the wall

with a grunt. He looked up through his lashes and rolled his

eyes when he saw that Ethan’s roommate was grinning at

him maniacally.