Chapter 2: I never pretended to be good at this

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Zephyr

"You think we should get them out of there?" Hugh asks, as we stand across the street from a police station in California (that's all the information I have. There are not signs or anything in the sky and the sky is how we got here).

"Nah. I saw all of mine go in. And the thing is, I am supposed to be working on my 'anger management problem' because 'throwing people through walls is not okay Zeph'  and I need to 'manage my stress levels' and judging by the number of somewhat overweight white middle aged men I saw enter that building, I will likely become stressed if I go in there," I say, folding my arms and watching the building.

"And how will waiting help that?"

"Given sufficient time, at least two of my children will eliminate the aggravating people and nobody ever told me not to let the kids do that. So. We wait here," I say.

"Cool. How long did you think?"

"Maybe like ten minuets why?" I ask, shrugging. I figure after a few screams I'll go claim my kids.

"Do you want to---I don't know---make out or something?" he asks, very reasonably.

I'm supposed to say no. Wait why am I supposed to say no? Homophobia? Internalized homophobia? No, I think it's crippling panic and fear. I think it is. I did not know I was this bad. I fantasize enough about this sort of thing happening you'd think I'd be prepared.

"You're into guys right?-----I kind of thought you were, but if you're not that's cool I just thought-----oh I guess that's a yes," since I was unable to speak I just started kissing him. He is refreshingly okay with that. He's big and strong and wraps me easily in his arms like I'm not a monster and he's happy to kiss me. And I will take it.

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