I’m in a really good mood when I wake up the next morning. After we ate our dinner, I drove Gina home, and managed to maintain a light conversation without endangering any lives. We said goodnight with a hug at her front door.

Before I leave for school I send her a text.

        Me: Last night was fun. Thank you. See you at lunch?

        Gina: Same and yes

I don’t manage to fully maintain the zen attitude toward driving that I had last night, but I am considerably less stressed than usual. I even get to school a little earlier than i planned, making it a bit more plausible that I once again get a really good parking space. I mutter a “thank you,” under my breath as I back part way out then nose back into the space to make sure I’m centered enough.

The morning goes by without incident, and at lunchtime I get a text.

        Gina: We’re outside.

‘We.’There’s no doubt who the other part of ‘we’ is. I wonder if they’re going to keep being weird at me. They were helpful yesterday evening, but even then there was a bit of a weird vibe coming off them.

Once I know she’s with Alex, I don’t need more specific directions. When I step outside, I walk around a corner and see the two of them right where I felt they’d be. Gina waves.

“Hi,” they both say. It looks like Gina almost said ‘Maggie,’ but caught herself. There are people close enough someone else might have heard, so it’s for the best.

They’re sitting across from each other at one of the little four person tables, which is good, because it would have been awkward trying to figure out where to sit if they’d been doing that at one of the picnic-style tables. I take a seat with Alex on my left and Gina on my right.

“Thanks for your help yesterday, Alex,” I say.

“No problem,” they respond. And they’re lying. So much for things not being weird.

“How did they help you?” Gina asks.

“I was spiraling a little bit about what to wear. They helped me chill out.”

“Oh. Well, thanks from me, too, then, Alex.”

This time Alex nods without saying anything.

We talk about school for a little bit. Mostly Gina and I talk, with Alex throwing in occasional monosyllables.

“Are you okay, Alex?” Gina asks.

“Eh,” they give a noncommittal shrug.

“C’mon Alex,” I say. “There’s definitely something going on. What is it?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” They’re even lying when they say that, although I get the sense that they may not know that they are.

“Alex—” Gina starts, but I put my hand on hers and she stops.

Alex looks like they’re on the verge of tears. I know they want to talk, but it feels like we shouldn’t force it. Not right now. Not at school.

I put my other hand on Alex’s. 

“Hey, it’s okay. Would it be easier to talk if it were just me? Or just Gina?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. Will you come over to dinner tonight? I won’t try to make you talk if you don’t want to.”

“I—”

“Please?”

“Okay.”

“I can come over after dinner, if y’all want me to,” Gina adds.

I look at Alex. They nod.

“That would be great,” I say. “You’re welcome for dinner, too.”

“Let me check with my folks.”

I nod.

📎 📎 📎

I probably should have checked with Dad before inviting two people to dinner.

        Me: Alex is having problems and I invited them and Gina to dinner. Is that okay?

        Dad: Yes

If that had been Mom, it would have taken at least five back and forths, and a full explanation of what Alex’s problems are before getting a yes. I used to think that kind of thing meant she cared more. 

Alex is waiting at my car when I get there after school. I let them know we can talk now, but they’d rather wait. Instead I focus on driving (probably still the best move) and get us home safely. 

We sit at the dining table to do our homework. Alex seems a little less stressed out, or depressed, or whatever it is, while they’re focused on school work. I'm glad, for them, and because it lets me enjoy their presence a little more.

When we’re done, I go through the fridge to see if I can make what I want to for dinner. Alex is checking the pantry for me.

“We’ve got tomato paste and tomato sauce,” they say. “Which do you want?”

“Both, please. And the noodles?”

“We’re good.”

This time I’m going to make lasagna right.

📎 📎 📎

Gina was able to join us, so there are four of us seated at the table. Once again, she and Alex sit opposite each other. Dad and I sit opposite each other.

The lasagna turned out surprisingly okay. Dad grabbed a loaf of bread and a salad on the way home, so it’s a reasonable meal. Dad asks each of us a little about how school’s going, and that’s most of the dinner conversation.

Once dinner is cleaned up, Dad looks at us for a moment.

“I’ve got some work to do. I’ll be in my study if you need me.” He says. “It was nice to see you again Gina.”

“You, too,” she replies.

He disappears up the stairs.

The three of us move to the living room. Gina and I each take a seat in one of the chairs, while Alex sits in the middle of the sofa.  None of us look at each other at first. When that gets old, Gina and I both look at Alex. They let out a big sigh. We wait.

“You’re both going to hate me.”

I consider protesting, but given the kind of things I already know they’ve done, I can’t be sure they’re entirely wrong. Although, why Gina would hate them too is a mystery.

They turn to Gina.

“So, it’s about that deal Maggie and I made.”

“Okay?”

“Once we made the deal, I had to do everything in my power to make sure that the two of you went on a date.” They turn to me. “Just like you had to let me be near you, even when you pretty much hated me.”

“I didn’t hate you. I was just pissed.”

They wave that off. “So I’ve manipulated both of you.”

They tell us what they’ve done to get us to date. It was a lot.

“I don’t get it,” I say, “How was embarrassing me into outing myself to my parents part of this plan?”

“You were miserable, and didn’t like yourself very much. There was almost no way you would have ever asked her like that, and,” they turn to Gina, “would you have said yes if they did?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? Maybe not?”

“Fine. But what about bringing Gina in on who you are?”

“That one’s obvious,” Gina chimes in. “It gave us a reason to hang out.”

“Fair.”

There’s more, but . . .

“None of that is . . . bad,” I look to Gina, “is it?”

“Well, the outing thing seems like it was pretty painful.”

“Okay, yeah, but I got over that a while back,” I turn back to Alex, “and knowing that you pretty much had to do it helps, not hurts.”

“But—”

“Everyone here who hates Alex, raise their hand,” Gina interrupts.

We both look at Alex, not saying anything for a minute. We do not raise our hands.

There’s more emotion crossing Alex’s face than I’ve seen since I met them. Until the other day, they’ve always seemed so calm, so collected. Now they’re on the verge of tears. They’re so distraught that they’re visibly shaking. They bury their face in their hands.

Gina and I exchange a look, and without speaking, move to either side of Alex on the sofa. I put my arm around their shoulders, and feel Gina’s arm as it reaches around their back.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I say.

“Nobody hates you,” Gina adds, quietly.

They break into uncontrollable sobs.

Gina and I sit there with them. I have no idea what to do, and I don’t think she does either, so we just hold them, and make occasional comforting noises. That, and hand them tissue after tissue. 

Finally, they find words. “I don’t know what to do.”

We wait for them to continue.

“I was stupid to come here. I don’t belong here.”

“You’re alway welcome here,” I say.

“No, not here, here. The material world.”

“Oh.”

“I thought things were going okay,” Gina says. “What’s going on?”

“The longer I stay here, the more human I get. And the more human I get, the harder everything is.”

“But I thought with Gina—”

Alex interrupts, “No. I’m not losing my spark. That's as strong as ever. But, I am becoming more human, and being a human is hard.”

I can’t argue with that.

“That’s true,” Gina agrees, “but is there something in particular about being a human that’s being hard right now?”

“Caring.”

“Caring? That’s sort of broad.” I say.

“Exactly! When I got here, I cared about my domain, and I cared about you, because you were my connection. And I cared about winning my stupid bet. Then I started caring about you as a person.” They turn to Gina. “And then I started hanging around you because of that—unwise—deal, and I started caring about you.”

They drop their face into their hands again. Gina and I share a glance across their lowered head.

“I didn’t care where I slept. I didn’t care much what I ate. And now I’m sleeping on a sofa in the back of a store, I’m eating crap and school lunches, but I repeat myself, And I hate it, because I’m starting to care about those things.”

They take a deep breath, then go on. “I’m even starting to care about school. I’m starting to care what humans other than the two of you think of me. How do you do it? How do you deal with caring?”

I look to Gina. She looks lost.

“You get used to it, I guess?” she responds. “We get to grow up with this, but you’ve been thrown in the deep end.”

“If it helps,” I say, “I care about you, too.”

“Same,” adds Gina.

After a few more minutes, Alex manages to pull themselves together a bit.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” I say.

I walk up the stairs and knock on the door to Dad’s study. He invites me in.

“How’s Alex?” he asks.

“Not great.” I hesitate. 

“What is it?”

“I lied to you about their parents.”

“I thought you might have. What’s going on?”

“They can’t go home, so they’re sort of homeless. They have a place they sleep, and I thought they were doing okay, but I was wrong.”

“Why can’t they—”

I shake my head. “Please don’t ask me. I can’t tell you, and I’m not going to lie.”

“Does it have something to do with their being non-binary?”

I have to think about that. Alex doesn’t think of themselves as non-binary. They think of themself as a god, so . . .

“Yeah.”

“Did anyone hurt them?”

“I’m pretty sure not.”

I let him think. This is one of those times when I really wish he had more facial expression.

“I think I should talk to Alex.”

I worry that Alex is going to hate me for this, but they need help that Gina and I can’t give them on their own. I hope this wasn’t a mistake. Dad follows me to the living room.

“Alex,” he says, “Maggie tells me that you’re having some problems.”

“I let him know that you can’t go back to your family.”

Alex nods, then looks between Gina and me. “Can I talk to Mr. May in private, please?”

I nod to Gina and she follows me up the stairs to my room.

“Are you sure it was okay to tell your dad?”

She sits down in my desk chair and I take a seat on the bed.

“No, but I didn’t know what else to do. I think it’ll be okay, though.”

“I hope so.”