Amy

Is this a date? Am I on a date? That’s all I can think as I join Janet in the line to order tacos at this place we spent half an hour driving to and another 15 minutes parking and walking to. I mean, she brought me a rose! But then she went into some mom lecture about how I should always expect this sort of treatment from dates, which feels more like she’s trying to teach me something instead of romance me. And now we’re at a packed carne asada joint in Whittier, standing in line with Latino families. And she’s holding my hand. What do all these different facts add up to? I have no idea.

She glances up at me with a sly grin on her face. “How lucky am I to be with the hottest babe in this joint?” she says quietly, and squeezes my hand. OK, that’s another data point. I need to stop worrying about it. Be present, Amy, I tell myself.

“That’s where you’re wrong, though,” I whisper back. “It’s me who’s with the hottest babe in this joint.” And I wink at her.

She leans into me and slides her arm around my waist. I’m not sure this is the kind of place where that’s a really safe move, but I’m hoping that whole “cis girls are very affectionate with each other” thing offers us some camouflage. I’m so busy thinking about that I barely notice that we’ve come to the counter. I have no idea what I want, but Janet just takes over.

“Hola. ¿Qué tal?” says the woman behind the counter, and Janet doesn’t miss a beat.

“Hola! Quiero dos tacos de asada, por favor, y, para ella… ¿lo mismo?” She raises her eyebrows at me.

“Um…?” I can tell she’s asking me a question, but I don’t speak Spanish. I guess Janet does, at least enough to order tacos in east Los Angeles County. She nods and turns back to the cashier.

“Lo mismo. Oh! Y dos Jarritos, por favor,” she adds.

“Sí, senorita, estan in el frigo.” The woman behind the counter points to a drink fridge, and Janet hands her a card. Then she turns to me. “Babe, grab us a couple of sodas, will you?”

I smile. “Sure, no problem.” I grab a strawberry and a lime. Whichever one she doesn’t want, I’ll drink.

We find seats next to each other at a counter. In front of us, the cooks are slinging tacos with alacrity. It smells heavenly. I’m so fucking hungry.

Within a few minutes, I hear the woman at the counter call, “Renee!” and Janet jumps up, returning in a few seconds carrying a tray with two huge plates of tacos. She sets one down in front of me.

“These are… bigger than I expected,” I say as I lift the first of my tacos off my plate.

“They’re delicious, you’ll wish they were bigger,” she says, and pats my leg.

“OK, hang on, before we eat…” I take out my phone, then look at her, suddenly embarrassed. “Do you mind if I take a picture for my Consensus group?”

She tilts her head. “What’s Consensus?”

“It’s a site with private chat servers that are divided up into channels. It started out being related to video games, but the one I’m on is devoted to a book series by this trans woman from the UK. They’re about… lesbian cheerleaders.” I’m feeling more and more embarrassed as I go on. This must sound so dumb. “The server I’m on is like… me and three thousand other trans girls. I was talking to them when you texted me to get tacos, and um… I promised I’d take pics for them.” I look down at my plate. “Sorry. I know this is weird. Are you—”

Janet touches my shoulder. “Babe, it’s fine. I’m not going to mock you for having online friends. I basically don’t have any friends, so you’re doing better than I am!” She laughs, and I exhale with quiet relief. Then she reaches into her purse and comes out with a Sharpie. She grabs a napkin from a nearby dispenser. “What’s it called?”

“Uh… Consensus,” I say, and she scribbles something on the napkin with the Sharpie. She holds it up to me. It says Hi Consensus! xoxo JS RA. “Oh my god,” I say, laughing.

“Take the picture! I’m ready to eat these things.” She leans into me holding her note, and I take a picture of both of us, our tacos, and the left side of the guy sitting next to Janet. Oops. Oh well. I post it to the #when-you-fly-patreon-supporters channel on the Consensus, then immediately close the app. I try not to notice the notifications that start rolling across my phone screen immediately.

By the time I flip my phone face down, Janet’s already biting into her taco. Sauce drips down her chin. She immediately catches it with a napkin. Clearly she knew what to expect. “Goddamn, these are good,” she mumbles with her mouth full. “Have some, sweetie! I swear you will not regret it.”

I shrug and take a bite, being careful to have a few napkins at hand. I’m glad I do – I have the same sauce problem. But holy shit, she’s so right, they’re delicious. I eat the first one and half of the second one in what feels like about 90 seconds.

“Holy shit,” I finally say, taking a swig of lime Jarritos. “How did you find this place?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know how clear this is to you, but I kinda don’t have a life outside, uh… my job. So I try to find things to keep myself occupied. I had like a month where I was just driving around LA looking for taco places I hadn’t eaten at yet.”

I laugh. “Like X-rated Guy Fieri. You even drive a muscle car.”

She laughs too. “Oh, leave me alone. Anyway, this place wasn’t the last place I went to, but it was the best. After a while I started just coming back here all the time.”

“Is that how you learned to order in Spanish?”

“I mean, I took a few years of it in high school. But yeah, it’s been a good refresher. After a while it gets awkward to be the white girl who needs everyone to start speaking English just for her, you know? But anyway.” She sets her hand on my thigh, which is easy to do since our legs are all but touching. Then she squeezes it. “What did you think?”

“Oh, these tacos are incredible,” I say. “Thanks for bringing me here. And for paying for me! I swear, you do too much nice stuff for me as it is.”

“I mean…” She gives me a lopsided smile. “Nothing but the best for my girl, right?”

OK, I can’t hold back any longer. “Janet, is this a date? Are we on a date right now?” I put my hand on her thigh. Two can play at that game.

She grins and blushes. “Well, it’s not not a date…”

I make a face. “What does that mean?”

“I mean… well, what do you want it to be? Because I’m OK with whatever.”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I am speechless. After a second, she quickly adds, “Listen, I just… I wanted to see you. And then I was wandering around your neighborhood because I got there a little early, and I saw this florist shop, and… I know buying you a flower takes it in a direction, but like, I wanted to do it, and I figured, well OK, it takes it in that direction. What’s so bad about that?” She stops for a second and bites her bottom lip. “Is it bad?”

I shake my head. “No, it’s not, but… do you like me?”

She blinks. “In the sense of… do I have romantic feelings for you?” I nod. She hesitates, then says in a small voice, “Would it be bad if I said yes?”

Something inside me untwists. I didn’t even realize I was tensed up. I guess that was the answer I was hoping for, even if I didn’t know it. Now… do I have the guts to tell her that?

At first I just shake my head. Then after a second, I find my voice. “No, no, it wouldn’t…” I start to laugh, then just as quickly feel tears springing into my eyes. I squeeze them shut, take a deep breath, hold it for a few seconds, then let it out. Better. I do it again, and try to relax all over, which is tough when you’re sitting on a barstool at a taco place during a crowded Saturday afternoon lunch rush.

When I trust myself to continue the conversation, I open my eyes and find Janet staring at me with a look of anxiety on her face. “Um,” I say. Great start, Ceci. Spit it out. “I have romantic feelings for you too, is the thing. But I don’t want that to… you know.” I try to find the words. “What if it screws up what we have now? I don’t know if I’m ready.”

Janet puts her hand on my arm. “Then that’s OK,” she says. “We don’t have to do anything right now. I really did just want to hang out with you. It can be a friend thing, or a date thing, or a neither-of-us-have-any-idea-what-this-is-but-we’re-rolling-with-it thing, or—”

“That last one,” I say. “I think I like that one.”

She smiles. “OK, let’s go with that. Now… I can just take you home if you want, but I planned a whole day together for us. So… do you want to keep hanging out with me?”

I nod. “My emotions are a mess and I have no idea what’s going on with me right now, but I hope I haven’t ruined our afternoon.”

“Not at all, baby girl,” Janet says, and jumps down from her barstool. “You ready to get out of here?” I nod and try to smile. She grabs our trash and heads for the door. I follow, still feeling a bit unsteady on my feet.