See Yourself Be Yourself

[58] All You Are

Along the way, she bumped into Elisa as Elisa handed the clothes she wasn’t interested in back to the nearest attendant.

“Misty! I didn’t get a chance to say hi yet. How was your week? Has Liz been good? Any new plans for overthrowing the elites?” Her green eyes brightened as she fluttered, and a little patch of light caught a sparkle on her green jumpsuit.

Every detail of Misty’s week scattered like pigeons at the first hint of threat. It also hadn’t been long since the arcade meetup or the judo graduation, and there was the group chat. How much unspoken was there to tell?

Along the way, she bumped into Elisa as Elisa handed the clothes she wasn’t interested in back to the nearest attendant.

“Misty! I didn’t get a chance to say hi yet. How was your week? Has Liz been good? Any new plans for overthrowing the elites?” Her green eyes brightened as she fluttered, and a little patch of light caught a sparkle on her green jumpsuit.

Every detail of Misty’s week scattered like pigeons at the first hint of threat. It also hadn’t been long since the arcade meetup or the judo graduation, and there was the group chat. How much unspoken was there to tell?

The date. Everything with Valerie. Volunteering for the Methodist dinner. Not getting as many answers as she hoped. No matter what she thought of, Valerie was nearby.

“Just glad… it’s over,” Misty breathed. She got a flash of Nell’s smiling face before shifting her bag over her shoulder.

Elisa adjusted her own bag and wrapped her arms around Misty, who didn’t expect such a big hug.

Leaning back, Elisa shook her head. “Nuh-uh. That’s bullshit. You’re still in customer-service mode with that answer. God, what a hellscape. What’s really wrong? Not enough bra magic? Hungry? Horny? Hurting?”

Misty reeled under Elisa’s wave of questions. “Yeah. I mean, I am relieved, but also wary. Maybe a little of all of that.”

“And what did I miss?” Elisa slipped the question into the quiet after Misty finished answering her.

That question was measurably quieter than the greeting or the first salvo. Misty could’ve asked for clarification. Valerie would’ve done something like that, buying herself time and avoiding the microscope.

She could simply say she’d let the intrusive thoughts win and then felt bad about them. But Elisa would catch that hedge too.

"“I imagined beating up a bunch of… assholes. The phone thief. Some prick at Costco. Family.”

“Me?” A playful smirk tugged at Elisa’s mouth.

With a sharp frown, Misty insisted, “No! Lillis thought I thought of her too. I didn’t imagine either of you or anyone in the group. It was just jerks, random jerks.” An image of Brent’s mom screaming while Misty crushed her hands clung to her.

Elisa tapped her mouth. “Should I be concerned that me and Liz were on the same wavelength? I say good company.” A slim trace of her rusty brows lifted as she shifted. “Sensei says our greatest battles are within ourselves. Over fear, pain, and ego, toward self-perfection… I’m a beginner on all that. Maybe in another life… or ten. How did it feel to beat up all those bad people inside your head?”

Misty started to adjust her top again, then stopped with her hands at her sides. She drew in a breath. “It felt good. Cathartic. Like justice. But it soured fast.”

Elisa leaned against the wall. “Always does. Funny thing, I had a weird dream last night. Weird for me. I’m in this fancy cathedral. Very tacky. And I’m fighting myself. We’re both in my favorite green dress, but she’s decked out all emo, black and moody, scowling. So angry and bitter. I can counter her every move, but she can do the same. We just keep fighting until we’re both exhausted. I wake up and I’m really pissed off at my brain. Someone should’ve won, or they should’ve kissed or something…”

With her head leveled, Elisa cleared her throat. “What I’m getting at is… and someone, anyone else would probably say it better… you were throwing around little pieces of yourself, fighting with yourself. It feels good for a second, like punching a wall, but it also hurts you. Not saying you should go pick a fight with someone. Just don’t wear yourself out.”

Once she was done talking, Elisa dove into her bag, grabbed her phone, and quickly typed something out. She wiggled her fingers like she was reaching for an imaginary dial. “Idea for a sculpture. Fistfight with every version of yourself you never were. Could go classical. Good material. And I’m not telling you how to vent. Just giving my feelings, for what they’re worth. That dream got stuck on me. Usually mine aren’t that deep. Usually, it’s me standing naked in front of Press with a few special toys. Now that gets deeep.” Misty gave a quick chuckle and folded her hands behind her.

Elisa pointed Misty toward a couple of discounted clothing highlights she thought Misty might like before the energetic redhead went back to helping Vivi. With her favorites in tow, Misty eventually found Valerie sitting in a quiet corner by one of the clothing racks, stretching her legs against the carpet.

She was dressed in an odd combination of clothes for her: a cardigan with more gray than blue, a cream camisole, and a matching dark gray skirt. Valerie picked at her nails and took a breath.

As comfortably as she could, Misty crouched beside her and said nothing. Too many possibilities surged through her at once: comfortable, playful, radiant, curious, supportive. She had a whole little army of Mistys ready to speak their truth to the girl they loved, but none of them wanted to step out first. Even a simple hey didn’t feel right.

She wasn’t shy or scared. The moment simply didn’t need words. Valerie scooted forward and laid her shoulder against Misty’s. They sat there for a minute until one of the workers noticed them and asked if they could help.

On Dawn’s advice, Misty picked out several outfits that worked well together. She wore the most comfortable minimizer out, with her usual clothes nearby.

Valerie got a few things but didn’t show them off. Lillis got a heavily discounted jacket. Elisa picked up a couple of dresses. Tracy grabbed several shirts with Japanese designs. Dawn chose some accessories, while May picked out a few pairs of pants. Vivi showed Misty the adventure outfit, bought it, and kept it as their little secret.

Misty wound up in line next to May, who made up for how little they’d talked lately by detailing practically every aspect of the double-bill production of King Lear and The Winter’s Tale at the theater where she worked. Misty had never imagined a queer version of either, but May flooded her with as much production minutiae as possible.

Their next destination hardly needed saying. Together, they drifted over to the bookstore, with Misty tracing Valerie’s footsteps. An excited Friday crowd spilling out of the ice cream shop slowed the group for a moment, leaving Misty standing beside the bus stop and its deep-green metal shelter.

The bench was divided into rigid seats by metal bars. Elisa gave the center one a firm kick. Misty noticed that the metal lattice on her side had bent out of shape. Without thinking, she touched the uneven edge. Just a little poke. With a weighty metallic thunk, it popped back into place.

Misty checked to make sure she hadn’t broken anything. Far from it. As best she could tell, the metal had actually fixed itself. She said nothing about it, but carried a warm smile with her to the bookstore door.

The store smelled familiar. Warm without being too hot, anointed with paper without crushing her senses. The books were exactly the kinds she expected. Flowery script with fancy names. Lawyers, dragons, and romances. Sometimes in the same book.

Detailed histories everyone forgot. Garish slogans trying to be unforgettable. Misty crept toward the prominent romantasy section and turned over the closest one.

“Everyone wants me to be something I’m not. I’m not a queen. I’m not a sacrifice. How do I embrace my true self?”

She put it back on the shelf and picked up the one beside it.

Cozy cats, coffee stains, and queer couples. Characters from books brought to life.

Misty shrugged and moved on. Next.

Gorgeous blonde Asteralle was destined by the Time Goddess Temora to die, but she would fight fate itself with love and save the world by her…

Maybe science fiction.

Poking around the more grounded romantic books convinced Misty she probably wasn’t going to have a moment like Kathleen Turner in an ’80s adventure movie with any of these.

So what did that mean, if anything?

Tracy had camped out around the manga and graphic-novel shelves, and the moment Misty drifted into her orbit, she snagged her and started educating her on which runs of Spider-Man were complete crap and which Thor storylines to avoid, all while urging her to read at least a little of the first volume of Trigun. Misty eventually walked away with six large books she didn’t think she could get through before they had to leave, but she accepted them anyway.

To keep from overloading herself, Misty set the stack down on a random empty table before going to talk to May. Their conversation from the line picked right back up as though there had been no interruption.

May had at least a dozen podcasts to share with Misty, all of them at least queer-coded. Between breaths, almost as an afterthought, she mentioned that she was bi.

Her friend rolled out the words. “It should be clear and obvious. It took a while for me to get it. But when you’re thinking about a singer and you can say, okay, he’s hot… but then there’s another singer who’s a girl and you also find her hot… then you can try and deny what you feel all you want, but that’s still what you’re feeling.”

Misty appreciated all that. She appreciated the words, but she also found herself gradually creeping her hand along the shelf, stretching away while May regaled her with favorite queer pairings from the fanfiction of a video game.

“Cool,” was really all Misty could manage.

She wasn’t having a bad time talking, even if it was more listening and acknowledging than anything else. And May looked happy, so she didn’t want to put a pin in it. Much later, Misty slipped away with even more books in her hands and even more on her list to read.

Lillis wasn’t over by science fiction or the Dune film-merchandise display. She was over by the science essays.

“Hungry?”

Misty nodded.

“I’ll be cooking something with Elisa’s assistance. Pasta, probably. Although I never know where her plans will land. Prentiss and Josh have some contingencies.”

Turning slightly, Misty scowled, and before she said the word, Lillis corrected herself. “Raleigh. Just wanted to hear how it sounded. But that’s not him. He’s a too-much-cheese cutie with a colander bonnet… heh. Raleigh the troops. Three cheers.”

With one eyebrow raised, Misty asked, “You alright?” She thought about the loopy spell her friend had slipped into recently and hoped it wasn’t becoming a trend, even if it hadn’t been that bad aside from the yelling about her daughter. Lillis’s face looked normal enough.

“Ask me again in a few pages,” Lillis said with a thin smile. She tucked a trade paperback under her arm and puffed out a breath. “I’m okay now. I just need to take my own advice and remember I’m only one person. Usually.”

Misty nodded, thinking about Evangeline. Did she have a daughter? No. She was in high school. If she was real. With all the universes out there, she had to be… somewhere, somehow.

With the stack she’d been granted, Misty made the trip in stages over to the connected café and slid onto a wooden bench against the wall, the books stabilizing a wobbly table. It wasn’t comfortable, but it let a more restful tingling settle through her feet and back.

“May I sit?” Valerie’s voice was small, a little wobbly, but it bounced beside her.

Valerie had her own ambitious little pile of books in a flurry of bright colors. Misty noticed some art books, a crossword compilation, a kitten-covered how-to-draw-cute-animals book, an anthology with a voluptuous dino-humanoid in a bikini, and several superhero-styled graphic novels.

Misty leaned forward without putting too much strain on the table and said, “Some interesting picks.” She kept a small smile tucked close to make sure Valerie knew she wasn’t upset.

Valerie shuffled the titles. “Yeah. Heh. I was looking up some from my online wishlist back at the clothing store. This one is a bit older. It’s supposed to be tongue-in-cheek funny. I could use a laugh.” She blushed a little but kept her bright green eyes on Misty, her mouth wobbling almost as much as the table.

Without needing to say anything, Misty leaned over and kissed her on the cheek first, then on the lips. Valerie’s giggles warmed her face.

She listened as Valerie gushed, showing off her book about the illustrious histories of different colors like imperial purple and Kelly green. Misty wanted to share just as much enthusiasm for the books on her side of the table, but she’d only just been introduced to them. She hinted at older books that had stayed with her even though their shape and flavor could only be roughly traced through messy fragments.

Shuffling their stacks, Misty paused and peeked at the bottom book in Valerie’s pile. Valerie hadn’t mentioned it. Black-and-gold cover, with a trace shimmer of that blasted blue taunting her. Sparkles in her thoughts flowed over the unseen cover. A nightmare. A broken soul cowering as a veil falls over the world.

She looked up. The sun was consumed in an eclipse. Looming, ravenous, golden light bled off the rim in long, screaming threads, beautiful in a way. No, not an eclipse…

A hole in space, deep enough to swallow everything. She forgot the bookstore, the bench beneath her, and the warmth at her side. The world dimmed without cooling.

The hole where something warm and ordinary should have been. Gold licked along her fingers, carving them in trembling light. Blackness spread through her skin in branching veins. Not like an ink stain, but like the color was being sapped from inside. Her fingertips darkened first, then her palm, until her hand looked less burnt than hollowed.

"Misty? Sweetie? What's wrong?"

Valerie’s voice tipped into her like waves crashing through a seashell plunged against her ear. Misty shook her head, then cleared her throat with a quick cough. The book on the bottom was black and gold with a little bit of that cursed blue, but it was about sunsets rather than whatever the hell her little micro-dream had been.

"Yeah. Just really tired. A little drained. Hungry."

Stretching up from her side of the bench, Valerie offered to go grab a snack from the other side of the coffee shop and was on her feet before Misty could find a reason to tell her no. They split a snickerdoodle that burned with too much cinnamon.

Leaning into each other, Misty softened the remains of the cookie with a sip of water as Valerie sighed softly against her shoulder.

"I really hope Sarah writes a happy ending."

“What?” Misty felt an eerie tingle, like her head was balancing too many hats at once and her attachment to this body ran through a cord that had become dangerously conspicuous.

Valerie tilted up the book next to her on the seat to show her.

"...Oh," Misty said with a little sigh.

“I know when I write, it sometimes takes me forever to get through the steps of the narrative. Lillis would press me like… get the shit over with, like taking a shot you know is going to hurt, where the waiting isn’t a reprieve but hurts more than when it’s done. But I like the precious, cute, beautiful little times like this. Let them last forever.”

Misty held Valerie’s hands and kissed her head. If only forever. No one had forever. But they had right now, for as long as they could hold it.