Katie-the-Angel-Witch

Content Warning:

I guess frank discussion of alienation and ostracization?

The place is warm in more than just temperature. The air is filled with the scent of teas and pastries mixing with that good new book smell. The person behind the counter sports an axolotl suit with the uniform over it. “Hi! Welcome, what can I getcha?” 

“Lemon ginger tea, sweetened.” I answer right away. I have no clue if they actually serve it, but it’s the tea I drink when I drink tea. Having the answer prepared right away has covered my ass more than enough times. And if they say they don’t serve? Just reply with ‘the closest thing to it you have, in that case.’ 

“Got it, and you?” The axolotl turns to Liz, who is again fidgeting with her hands, her eyes not focused on the server.

“Uhm, I guess, hot chocolate?” She shrugs as she answers. 

“Okay dear, now you two just go ahead and sit down yonder and I’ll bring your drinks over right quick.” She winks, and once more I am impressed by the quality of the suits the chain provides for its employees.

The corner booth we claim follows the cozy atmosphere of the rest of the café, plus it has somewhat of a privacy screen. 

I decide to tear the bandaid off. “You don’t seem too shocked that you did it with, well, someone like me.” I’m vague on purpose, unsure if someone might overhear. Outside I had a full view of the area to see that nobody was dealing with the October chill. I still don’t dare come out fully, start transitioning, attempt to bring my body to a point where I’m not just squatting in it but properly living in it as a home. 

Liz shrugs. “Well, I, uhm, I figured the chance was always there that my…” she says the next words so quietly I can barely hear them, “first time…” she raises her volume to its previous level, “would be with a,” she looks around, being in a better spot to do so than myself, and leans forward to speak quietly again, “a girl. I’m bi.” 

She straightens up again, looking away nervously, or maybe not nervously? She switches from fidgeting with her hands to drumming on her thighs. 

“Okay, cool, good to know. By the way, are you stimming? Don’t stop if you are, I’m just curious.” My question has her pause for a second, guilt visible on her face.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t, that it bothers people, that it makes me look dumb, but I’m too tired from crying to stop it.” 

“You shouldn’t stop. It doesn’t bother me. Honestly it’s endearing, wearing your heart on your sleeve through stimming.” I smile, hoping it’s reassuring, hoping to encourage Liz to not mask. 

“It, uhm, got me in a lot of trouble, growing up. Nobody wants to hang out with the weird kid. With the r-slur.” She starts tapping on the table, playing an invisible piano with her hand. “And it’s not as if I didn’t try to not be the weird kid. I tried to be part of the group. To fit in.” 

“But they don’t let you. They can tell you’re different.” 

“You too?” I nod to answer her. 

“There has not been a time in my life until now that I wasn’t the new kid that just transferred. Plus the whole, ya know, queerness.” The server brings our drinks over as I finish the sentence, the smells of them almost intoxicating. I carefully take a sip of mine. “You know, this is the second longest I’ve ever talked to a person other than my mother, I’m pretty sure.”

“That sounds awful.” Liz only keeps her hands close to the cup, seeping the warmth from it. I don’t think she realises she could will it colder now. 

“Tell me about it, talks with mother are exhausting on such a deep level, it makes me want to drop dead.” I go pale, my eyes widen, I check if Liz reacts at all. She doesn’t seem to, I’m the only one freaking out about saying a microaggression towards a life challenged person. “How’s your relationship with your family?” Nice save, Kat, real stellar work. 

“It’s just been my brother and me, for a while. Mom and dad were in an accident. Mom didn’t make it, dad did, but the trauma had him committed and declared unfit to be my legal guardian.” I should have expected such blunt, brutal honesty from someone on the spectrum. “That was five years ago? Uhm, yeah, I think five years ago. My older brother had just finished college, so he took me in.” 

“Shit, I’m sorry Liz, that’s godawful. Here I am bitching that my mother is awful, meanwhile yours isn’t around anymore.” 

She responds by shaking her head. “It’s, it’s okay. I’ve had time to get over it. They, uhm, neither of them ever really got me, not like Eric. That’s my brother’s name.” She finally takes a drink, her gaze downturned. Awkward lulls in conversation are always difficult to get out of, especially if you don’t know if you should get out of them, if the time is right for you and the other party to just sit near each other in comfortable silence. Not that I had much experience with it. 

“Hey, wanna see pictures of my cat?” 

“Yes.” The way her head snaps at attention would have me worried about her breaking her spine, if she could still break her spine. I soon have my phone out, Top proudly on display. “So cute!” The way Liz’s eyes light up is endearing. 

“Her name is Dame Topiary Forges Her Armies On Moons, Top for short.” Liz snorts, the first one to do so upon hearing Top’s full name. 

“Why did you give her such a long name?”

“Because she is a very regal lady and deserves to be acknowledged as such! Look how noble and majestic she presents herself.” Of course, the pictures are of Top in the most ridiculous of poses with the funniest faces. Liz’s giggles warm my heart. 

“How long have you had her for?” Her question has me stop to think. 

“Shit, must be years by now, I don’t really remember. She was the one permanent fixture in my life, so it feels like she’s always been there.” I lean back, looking at the ceiling, which is painted to look like a burrow. “I can barely remember my life before her, but I don’t know if that’s because of depression or dysphoria.” 

What I am sure of, however, is that she has been my familiar for five years, as that’s when I got my hands on the book, and it was the first spell I performed. She had been a very smart cat before, but afterwards there was such an obvious spark of wisdom in her eyes, not to mention the knowledge she’d spend the rest of my life with me. Healthy and happy and determined to protect me. 

“Uhm, hope this isn’t too personal a question, but, when did you learn? That you weren’t like… other guys?” Good vague way to word it, Liz, ten out of ten. 

“Seventh grade. It was my third school that year. Locker rooms after gym class.” I sigh, recollecting the smell of pubertal boys, the overabundance of shitty deodorant, the atmosphere of terror. 

The need to prove yourself the biggest badass around that shouldn’t be fucked with. “My classmates were being horribly misogynistic, talking about the girls in class like future sex registry entries, and I just felt this deep disconnect.” 

None of them cared enough to ask for my input, they thought the queerness I was already radiating was me being gay. What a way to be both right and wrong at the same time. “Not because I was into men, but because the way I was into women wasn’t the same way they were. And that made me look stuff up. And everything clicked into place when I read the love confessions of anonymous lesbians.” The warmth, the joy, the appreciation towards the women they loved, it was nothing like the posturing of men. It resonated with me, and that resonance shattered any pretense that I was a man myself. 

“What about you? When did you figure it out?” I ask Liz, who looks thoughtful for a second. 

“I think fourth grade? I wanted to hold hands with two specific classmates. I, uhm, unsuccessfully tried to be sweet to both of them. They didn’t reject me as a potential date, but as a person.” She sniffs, drinking more of her hot chocolate to push the feelings down. 

I laugh. “Ah, look at us, queer magnetism finally turns on for the both of us and all it does is make us both collapse into piles of misery. Fucking classic.” 

A familiar figure clears her throat. “Heya Liz, my gal, quick question, you cis or trans?” Violet asks, standing at our table. 

“I’m, I’m cis.” Liz replies and Violet sighs. 

“You jumped straight to second base of transfem dating with a cis chick, unbelievable.” She sits down next to Liz, looking straight at me. “Here I figured you were an ugly duckling I needed to help see herself as a swan.” 

Violet leans back, hands behind her head. “Listen, kitten, you’re a mess and you need help, and fucking hell, I took you in from the rain, I’ll be damned if I don’t take care of you.” She shifts her gaze to Liz, and Liz shrinks in her seat, trying to make herself smaller. “I’m dragging our mutual friend’s hopeless ass to the mall, make her look as good as she can, you wanna come with?” 

“S-sure, yeah, yeah! Uhm, g-girl’s day out, right?” Violet answers Liz with a smile and a nod. “I’ve, I’ve never had one, not even with the Tau Eta Epsilon girls!”

“Did your mom drop you on the head as a baby? You wanted an in with THE Bitches? Sheesh, I know I got two hands but I dunno if I can lift either one of ya up with just one hand.” Violet stands up, extending said hands to us. “Come on, get your asses up and pay so we can go.”

Katie-the-Angel-Witch

Yes this whole chapter opens with a Mice Tea reference that wasn't exactly authorised so I cannot say this is canon to Mice Tea, just think of it as a neat nod to a very good Visual Novel.

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