Rome is in his room with Juni. She’s hot and all, but she just doesn’t do it for him anymore. This surprises no one, of course; it’s about that time in a relationship where Rome gets bored. Juni has her arms around him, panting as she goes down on him over and over again. His bedroom is a mess; it always is, but it’s not something that bothers him enough to do something about.

         Today is his Second Degree initiation. This means that, as well as continuing to learn, he’ll be able to teach, and he’s always looked forward to the day he became a mentor. It takes a year and a day to move on from one Degree to another, and even then, there are no guarantees you’ll be ready on time. But Rome is ready. He’s been ready for weeks. A year and a day from today, he’ll become a High Priest.

         Juni is good with her mouth. She’s not very kinky, something Rome has always been disappointed by, but she tries her best. When Rome told her about his encounter with Birch, she stared at him with wide eyes and then just said, “You’re bi?”

         Lots of people still think Rome is straight. Even he thought this, until getting to college. Letting loose was fun. Getting wild is continuously a good time. He’d shrugged, shoving his way through the mess in his room. “Actually, I’m pan, but that’s not the point.” Juni’s straight. But after all his university experiences, there’s no way he could still think that about himself.  He grumbles, enjoying himself, trying to delay the inevitable. He’s going to look like a huge dick.

       His hands grab Juni’s hair, pulling and pushing her head until she nearly gags. He likes it when people gag sucking him off, and most people do. Juni looks at him, her eyes glossy and wide. This is hot. Rome loves eye contact in any situation. “Good girl,” he coos – Rome can’t help that he’s dominating. “Keep doing what you’re doing.” It’s hard to speak when he’s so worked up, and so everything he says sounds like a mumble. After today, Juni will probably never speak to him again.

       Rome and his family are going back to Florida. Not forever – only for Ostara. It’s only been a few years since moving to Alaska, but Rome has friends back home, and he’s impatient to see them again. 

        Juni never lets him finish in her mouth. Instead, she pulls away, leaving him with no choice but to use a towel. Rome doesn’t prefer this, but you can’t force somebody to do something. “Hey,” he says, after cleaning himself up, “I’ve been thinking.”

        Oh?” Juni is short and round, but dresses in clothing that shows off her body. Say what you will about Juni, she really doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks. “Should I be worried?” She rests her elbows against Rome’s exercise station, smacking her lips with gusto. She knows she’s good at getting him off. Of course, it doesn’t take much.

        Rome has a basketball game today. It’ll be a rush to get from there to the initiation without being late. He hates beating around the bush, even though it seems to offend people a lot more when he doesn’t. “We should break up.”

        “What?” Juni stops her lip smacking to stare incredulously at Rome. “Seriously? I just had your dick in my mouth, and now you’re saying you want to break up.” Her arms are crossed, her body much more closed now. “You’re unbelievable.”

        “I mean…” Rome knew she would take this badly. “I’ve been thinking it for a while. I just haven’t said anything until now.” This makes him an asshole, maybe. Rome is not the indecisive type. He’s just been trying to avoid a blow-up like this.

        Juni scoffs. “Asshole.” There it is. He’s been expecting that. “I knew I was an idiot for dating you.” It’s terrible, but it’s also kind of funny. “Fuck you, Rome.”

        He wants to make a joke, but even Rome knows it’s terrible timing. “Hey, we could still be friends?” It’s a weak attempt at humor, and he knows it. Juni just rolls her eyes and stalks out of his bedroom, not even stopping to acknowledge his roommates on the way out. They’ll question him later, probably, but it’s not something he’ll bring up unless he’s asked.

                The semester is almost over. This means that Rome’s drama project is due, which means he has to present it with Birch -and he’s sure they’d both rather die. They haven’t spoken much lately, although Birch has been just as testy as always. “What’s up?” Rome bounds into the classroom, takes a seat where the other boy is already waiting. “I’m on time today!” Truthfully, he put effort into this.

                Of course, Birch doesn’t care. “Cool, want a trophy?” He doesn’t seem stressed out, for once, but he’s never very friendly. This is probably why he doesn’t have a lot of friends. Rome can’t explain it, but the air seems different now around him, and he can’t quite figure out if it’s strange or not. Once in a while, Birch will say something to him that isn’t completely rude, and that’s a start. “Are you actually ready today, or are you just gonna bullshit your way through again?”

                Birch has the lightest blue eyes. Their whites are spotted with red, something Rome has never seen before, but it could be because his skin is so light. For some reason, he always looks like he’s about to burst into tears, which doesn’t suit him at all; for someone who always looks sad, he’s a really big grump. Case in point: he grumbles, pushing up his glasses, even though they haven’t fallen. “What the fuck you staring at, dipshit?” Though these outburst may make him seem insecure, he isn’t in the slightest. Rome often wonders what happened to Birch to make him so unpleasant.

        Rome rolls his eyes, stung. “Nothing, four-eyes. You look like a goddamn fly with those ugly-ass glasses.”

        “Ooh, clever comeback.” Birch doesn’t seem bothered by this, but continues calmly preparing for their presentation. “Like it’s the first time I’ve heard that one.” Rome would never dare admit it, but he kind of likes Birch’s attitude. This isn’t something he’s normally into, but there’s a first time for everything, he supposes. Usually he likes a guy he can control, a guy who will be submissive, and there’s no shot of this happening with Birch. In a way, though, this makes him all the more interested in trying. Something about a challenge gets Rome going. Everybody knows this. “Come on.” The bug-eyed-looking man stands, tossing his script under his arm. “Let’s present so I don’t have to look at your dumb face anymore.”

        He tries very hard to hate Rome, which is kind of suspicious. It’s like he puts extra effort into pretending he can’t stand the guy. And maybe he can’t. But you’d think he’d be a little more subtle about it. “Cool.” He leers at his partner, who’s chosen to lead the team in their performance, and decidedly ignores the look. It goes about as well as either were expecting, which isn’t terrible. Afterward, after Birch returns to his table at the very back of the classroom, Rome follows. “Why do you pretend to hate me so much, anyway?” 

        “Argh.” The noise Birch makes is drawn out and frustrated, which is probably exactly the way he intended it to be. “Can you leave me alone? We’re done the presentation.” His nose wrinkles; once again, he pushes up his glasses. “So?” There are moments when Rome questions himself, even, why he’s so obsessed with Birch’s dislike of him. Rome couldn’t give two shits if somebody dislikes him, most of the time. “I’m not done talking to you. Why are you such a grump? I mean, not that I give a fuck, but I’m just curious if that giant stick up your ass is painful.” 

        He blinks, seeming, finally, to have stopped arguing. At least for the moment. Quick as a blink, his mouth curls up one side of his face, making him look both amused and smug. It’s a weird look for him. “You’re a real dumbass, you know that?” He shuts his binder, staring at Rome with his near translucent eyes (but, it isn’t like Rome noticed his eyes on purpose)! “Go away. And grow a brain while you’re at it.”

        This isn’t hurtful. None of his insults really are, and anyway it takes a lot to hurt Rome’s feelings.  “Come on,” he says with a sly grin, “don’t pretend you weren’t into what happened at the restaurant. I know you liked it. You can admit it, you know." He won’t. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out. “I know what you need.”

        “Yeah?” Class is over. When Birch begins to walk away, Rome chases after him. “What’s that?”

        “That’s easy.” Across the hallway from their drama classroom, Rome pulls the other boy in the direction of the bathroom. “An orgasm.” 

        Rome lost his virginity when he was sixteen, at his own parents’ house. They were never very strict about sex, as long as their children were safe and educated. He does feel very fortunate to have the parents he has; they’re supportive, easygoing, not like so many parents these days. Not that Rome would know. 

         Birch is not vocal during sex. In Rome’s experience, anyway; it could be just him. But he enjoys vocality, especially when it means he’s doing a good job. There are times when he can’t seem to help himself, but he always manages to get a hold of himself again shortly afterward. Rome is rough on him and knows what he wants, and anyway who really cares if he’s being too aggressive? He certainly doesn’t. It’s not like he gives a damn about Birch’s feelings. Nah, Rome just enjoys getting his rocks off in whatever way he can.

        An Initiation occurs in the covenstead, which in Rome’s case is a small shed in the backyard of his family’s property. It isn’t a large property, but it’s home, and Rome always enjoyed it there. After tonight, he’ll be a mentor, which is what he’s been waiting for. The only thing better than being a mentor is being a High Priest.  Maybe he’ll retire from his coven and join another: this is something many people do. But he knows Gray would miss him, and he’d feel bad about leaving them behind, even if it isn’t for very long.

        Birch wants to pretend he doesn’t enjoy fucking Rome. By the way he behaves, it’s obvious he does.

. . . . . . . .

        Birch is nineteen years old. He doesn’t celebrate his birthdays; it’s just another day like any other, and another step closer to death after all. It sounds dreary, but he’s a dreary guy. When he lived at home, his mother would cook for him every year, even though he’d insist he wanted nothing to do with the day. In recent years, Gracie has cooked for him, and this he hasn’t minded as much. She isn’t insufferable and pushy like his mother always was, and Grace respects his boundaries. She’d never dare throw him a party or plaster his birthday all over social media.

        She’s getting brain surgery, Grace. It’s a risky procedure and offers no guarantee her problems will even improve. But she wanted to take the chance, even though Birch tried to talk her out of it. He knows in the end, she’s the one who gets to decide. She’s confided in her mother, her sister, all her best friends. All are on her side. Birch isn’t sure it’s a good idea, especially because the chances of it helping are so low, but what does he know, he’s not a doctor. She spends today preparing, her nose in a book, researching all of the possible angles. Birch has gotten eye surgery, but it wasn’t major, and it’s certainly nothing compared to a brain. He’s worried Gracie won’t be the same after the procedure. She’s already different, but he’s worried she’ll lose the last of the parts that make her Gracie.

         She sits on the floor, recuperating from a petite mal. These are very hard to pick up on, to the inexperienced eye, but Birch has learned what to look for. After regaining control of herself, she looks at him with large sad eyes and sighs. “Why did I get into the car?”             

        He used to blame her. He used to say she deserved it for the terrible decision she made. This is something he regrets greatly now, something that makes him cringe with self-loathing every time it’s brought up. He speaks carefully, trying to be considerate. “You thought it’d be fine. Bronte insisted she was okay to drive.”

        Grace shrugs, petting Cujo behind the ear. “I shouldn’t have believed her. I know how irresponsible Bronte is.”

        It’s too late now. He means to say it in his head, but accidentally says it aloud. Grace looks at him, and then looks away. Her surgery is in a couple weeks; she has to miss school. For someone who’s about to undergo a serious procedure, she’s awfully upset about class she won’t be attending. Grace has never missed a class, even when she’s sick. Birch thinks she’s too serious about school, but he can’t really talk. He’s serious about too many things too. 

        On weekends, Birch drives his sister to support group. It’s something she started going to since coming out, after her parents demanded she did. They still don’t believe her, of course; she’s confused, or she wants attention, or she’s mentally ill. These are the same possibilities they jumped to after Birch came out. Some days, he’s sure they still think this. But Snow is being awfully courageous about the whole thing. She continues to insist she’s a girl, even when it gets her screamed at and laughed at. It’s shitty, that there are parents out there who treat their children like monsters. But everyone needs someone to blame, and this means that oftentimes children get the short end of the stick. People can accidentally make babies, with no prior training or preparation. People can keep the babies they’ve accidentally made, with no experience of parenthood whatsoever. And the scary thing is this happens all the time, and nobody says anything about it.

        Snow attends support groups at a community hall, with a lot of the others trans youth in the city. It was hard to find and even harder to feel comfortable. Snow doesn’t feel comfortable in many places. She makes Birch sit at the back for moral support, and he’s happy to help if this makes the experience easier for her. Everybody calls her Snow here. She’s made friends, and she leaves smiling and relaxed. If their parents knew she was enjoying the experience, they’d demand she stop going – and so Snow pretends to be miserable, and she pretends to resist, and they never suspect a thing. Snow’s parents are actually a bit stupid, if you think about it.  

        “Hi, Snow!” yell her friends when she walks inside. Nobody knows her deadname, and nobody asks. Birch sits quietly in the back of the hall with several other older siblings, and he observes. Snow’s hair is getting long. She’s dressed in a lacy skirt and a hair bow, looking for once like a girl. Of course, there’s no particular way to look like a girl. They look however they want to look, and this doesn’t take away at all from the fact that they’re girls. Snow sits at the front, something she’s been doing recently, an improvement from her first few groups. Snow is far braver than Birch: he can admit this. When she takes her seat, she chats with the kids around her.

        When Birch was younger, he went to a dayhome after school. This was in about second, third grade, he remembers. There were other kids there, but he was the oldest, and so he was often left in charge. This, of course, is something he was used to. The dayhome center was run by two women, who were wives, and who treated the children very kindly. But Birch’s parents hadn’t cared about this. When they found out about the relationship of the women to each other, they took him out and never allowed him back. He was hurt by this, and he knew the women were too. His parents never claimed to be perfect. They know they have their flaws, but they’ve never believed this was one of them. Maybe they yell too much or they’re a bit negligent at times, but this is about it. According to them, that is. 

        . . . . . . . . . .

        Rome fell off of a roof when he was seven. It was his grandfather’s garage roof back in Florida, which was about ten feet off the ground and overlooked a large green pasture.  Back home, he’d sit up there to watch the stars or when he needed some time to himself, or even when he was really young and wanted to hide from the family. One night he lost his balance trying to climb up to the top, and tumbled down to the rocks in his grandfather’s driveway. He’d landed on his side and cut his knee on a particularly pointy rock, and now there’s a jagged scar across his left knee. It didn’t take terribly long to heal, and it’s not a large scar, but he suspects it didn’t heal properly, as it now looks weird.

        It takes six and a half hours to fly from Juneau to Naples. It’s not a trip Rome’s made before, obviously; it’s his first time back home since moving. He misses his friends, and he misses the warm weather. Already, he has plans with his old friends, and he’s been looking forward to them all day. In Florida, his favorite spot was always the botanical garden – and this in fact is where his friends will be joining him later today.

        Rome sits next to Gray on the plane, near the back. They ride economy, and can’t afford to take a lot of trips. Rome has money from his university sports games, but his fathers wouldn’t dare borrow any from him; that’s his hard earned income. He’d like to buy them a new home, as their mobile home is small and quite old, and anyway they do deserve to be paid back for all they’ve done. The family has been on the plane for two hours, and Gray has fallen asleep, their head on Rome’s arm. He doesn’t mind this. It’s rather hard to get comfortable on an airplane. Their new kitten had to stay home, and so they left him with Callie and Avalon, who volunteered to take him.

        Rome’s best friend back home is named Spencer. They’ve been in touch since his moving away, but it was never the same as talking in public. That’s why Rome is so excited to see him, and all of their old friend group, in a few hours. He knows Spencer was a bad influence on him, but this never bothered him; that was years ago, and even Rome has changed a lot over the years.

        Lately, he’s been having very strange dreams. They mean nothing and some are recurring: not necessarily bad dreams, but not all that pleasant either. Rome is not the type who remembers his dreams the next morning, he never was. Gray has begun to keep a dream journal, a suggestion made by a therapist of theirs. He and Gray are quite different, and have little in common, so it’s strange he feels so close to them. Gray is seventeen now and is graduating high school in several months: because, despite beginning late, they managed to work hard and get ahead of the other students. Gray’s always been smarter than Rome, and smarter than a lot of their friends as well. Next year, the two will be in university together, and might even share some classes.

         The family is staying in a hotel, as it’s easier than trying to find friends to stay with. The hotel is near enough the ocean Rome’ll be able to walk over whenever he feels like it; he has no curfew, and hasn’t in a long time. Neither of the kids do, although many find this strange. Both are old enough to be responsible for themselves, and to know to send a text if something needs to be said. When they arrive at the airport, Rome’s legs are stiff. He thinks that’s the longest he’s ever sat still at one time. Gray is groggy and rubs their eyes as they walk through the airport, dragging their suitcase behind them. Gray misses Florida too, but things are different now. They’ve lost connection with their old friends and Rome suspects they no longer feel they’ve got anything in common. They sit in the back of their fathers’ rental vehicle on the way to the hotel, looking out the window at all of the places they used to love going.  

         Gray has a new girlfriend. Her name is Andie, and Rome has to admit she’s cute. Though, Gray seems to find it difficult to develop a connection with her – they say they don’t really like her, but she’s fun to hang out with. Rome wonders why they wanted a girlfriend to begin with, and then he tells himself it’s probably for companionship. After all, this is a reason many people get into relationships. Dating doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with feelings, and neither does sex, certainly. People get lonely, and so they look for another human to make them less lonely.

           His old friends are waiting already at the garden when he finally arrives. Spencer and Kier sit on the grass near the water, chatting to themselves and munching on Doritos. Rome has brought Gray alone: they were lonely at the hotel, and they used to spent a lot of time here too. Kier is the first to notice them; he jumps up, looking the same as Rome remembers him: dark-haired and pale-skinned, and dressed like a child. “Rome!” He shouts, jumping up to snatch his old friend into a hug. “You’re here! God, I was starting to think you’d never arrive.”

           It’s going to be hard going home. It’s so nice here, and there’s so much to do, and, well, it’s home. “Hi, Kier,” he says, slamming the man on the back by way of affection. “Nice to see you again.” Gray stands by his side, looking shy, as if they don’t remember these people. Maybe they don’t.

           Spencer looks different. His hair is bleached now, spiked: he’s covered in tattoos. He nods, smiling slyly, looking like the kind of man who’d start a punk band. “Sup, Rome, my dude? Hey, Grayson, it’s been ages!” Gray looks uncomfortable by this. Last time they were here, Gray wasn’t out. They were considering it, but it just wasn’t something that ended up getting brought up. They can’t really blame the others for not knowing this.

           Rome joins his friends in the grass, enjoying the sunshine. “It’s actually just Gray now.”

           It’s eighty degrees. This is the thing Rome has missed the most: the heat. It’s always cold in Alaska, and he’s always bundled up. Spencer looks at Gray, self-conscious in their swimming trunks and tee shirt. “Oh. Sorry, dude.” He seems different, and it’s maybe a little off-putting. But Rome is different too. That’s what happens when people get older. Spencer shrugs, shoving a handful of Doritos into his mouth. This hasn’t changed, at least. “You guys wanna go play beach volleyball? There are some really hot girls here.”

           “Yeah.” Rome is already dressed for the beach. That’s pretty much how he always dressed, before, when the weather wasn’t always freezing. “Sure.” Ah, it’s good to be home, even if he won’t be here long. When he leaves, he’ll have to go back to school. He’ll have to go back to seeing that obnoxious face every day. “You coming, Gray?” They dawdle, but follow. Gray hasn’t changed much. Personality-wise, they’re the same person they were three years ago. The only thing that’s really different is: now they’re out. And now they’re in recovery. Rome wishes he could be like them.