The Quest for Fireworks

Crush'd

    I wake up and instantly remember what I have planned today. I'm going to force Jordan to run errands with me. I'm ahead on work so I can afford to take half the day off. I'm dressed and ready to go by 12:30. I'm wearing black denim shorts and a graphic T-shirt that says "Let's Summon Demons" with a bunch of kids around a pentagram. I decided to not wear too much makeup, I don't want Jordan thinking that I always look as good as I looked the last time he saw me.
    Ten minutes early, I hear a knock on my door. I take a deep breath and open it. Jordan is standing there in his black hat, cutoff denim shorts, black converse and a T-shirt with one of my favorite drag queens on it.
    "Nice shirt," I say, covering up the fact that I immediately checked him out.
    "You too," he says, glancing down.
    My cheeks heat and I have to look down, away from his eyes. "Ready to go?" I ask, turning around to grab my bag, keys and phone. "It's going to be a really fun day."
    "Fun, huh?" he says as I step out the door and close it behind me.
    "Yes, fun. We're going to Target."
    Jordan chuckles, low in his throat and I love the sound. "I can't think of anything more fun than going to Target."
    I lead him to my car and unlock it, gesturing for him to get in. I get in behind the wheel and start the engine. My phone connects to the stereo and the playlist I had on last night starts playing. The familiar sound takes me back to last night and I take a few seconds to recover.
    I grab my phone and change it to my current favorite songs playlist and put the car in drive. "Thanks for agreeing to hang out even though you didn't know I was roping you into chores."
    "I don't mind," he says, as I steal a glance at him. His smile looks genuine and it provokes my own.
    "You say that now but wait until we're in the store and you have to talk me out of buying a $40 couch pillow that I don't need."
    "I can be very persuasive. I have to talk my brother out of buying dumb stuff with his allowance money all the time," he says.
    "That's sweet of you, you should come shopping with me every time," I say, laughing. "You have three brothers, right?"
    "I do," he says, and we briefly lock eyes as I look right before making a turn. "How'd you know?"
    "I may have stalked your Instagram profile," I admit, without thinking. Something about him makes me feel that no matter what I say, he won't judge me.
    "Ah," he says. "I may have stalked yours, too. How does your mom like Florida?"
    I smile at our mutual confession. "She loves it. She's always wanted to live there and she finally moved a few years ago."
    I pull into the parking lot and find a spot. We get out of the car wordlessly and I'm afraid that we've already run out of things to talk about.
    "My family took a vacation to Disney World once. That's all I've seen of Florida but it was pretty nice," Jordan says as we walk into the store.
    "I'm obsessed with Disney," I say. "I'm a complete Disney adult and I'm not ashamed."
    I stop by the dollar section because you can't come to Target without looking in the dollar section.
    "Is that on your list?" Jordan asks as I pick up a small candle in a soft pink jar.
    I look at him, eyebrows raised and he's smiling, jokingly. "It is not," I say, putting it back.
    "I'm only kidding, you can buy whatever you want. Who am I to stop you?"
    "You're currently my financial advisor and I will be compensating you later," I say, not hearing the innuendo until the words are already out of my mouth. "With dinner," I clarify.
    "You don't have to do that," he says as I pause by a rack of shirts.
    "I know, but I'm going to."
    We continue down a few aisles without talking. I grab a few things that I actually do need all while trying to think of things to say. It's not that it's hard, I have a million questions I want to ask, things I want to know about him but I don't want it to feel like an interrogation.
    "So, your family lives around here?" I ask, taking it back to the topic we started on.
    "Yup, a town over from you. I just moved back in after leaving Nevada but it's not permanent. I love them and I missed them all but the house isn't big enough for 6 of us anymore."
    I love how fluidly he speaks, how honestly he answers any question I've asked him.
    "Why'd you leave Nevada to come back to this hell hole?" I ask.
    "It wasn't my choice," he says, looking at the ground and adjusting his hat. "Just didn't work out."
    His clipped tone breaks the fluidness and honesty. I can tell he doesn't want to talk about that and it's not my place to pry. I just nod and slip into the makeup section.
    "This is a bad idea," I say, "but I just need mascara, don't let me pick up anything else."
    Jordan chuckles. "I'll do my best."
    I grab the mascara I use quickly but my eye catches on a lip gloss and I point to it, looking to Jordan for approval.
    "You don't need that," he says, simply.
    "I don't?"
    "No," he says, suddenly sounding nervous. "You have great lips, you don't need to put anything on them."
    The way he says it isn't like he's hitting on me. He sounds genuine and a little embarrassed and that's what makes it the best compliment I've ever received.
    "Thank you," I say, looking at him but I have to look away when he looks in my eyes, feeling my cheeks heat instantly.
    "Welcome," he mutters, turning away so that I can walk by him and out of the aisle.
    I go to the self check out and start scanning my things. Without asking, Jordan takes each thing from my hand and puts it in a bag for me. Then, he takes all the bags and carries them to the car.
    "You didn't have to do that," I say, opening the trunk for him to set the bags inside. "But thank you."
    "You don't have to thank me," he retorts.
    "Right, I have to feed you," I say, walking around to the driver side and getting in as Jordan gets in the passenger seat.
    "You don't have to do that either," he says, shyly.
    "Too bad, what do you feel like eating?"
    "Whatever you want," he says, looking at his hands in his lap.
    I realize that I'm basically forcing him to do something that he might not want to do. Maybe he has other plans or just didn't plan on spending so much time with me.
    "I mean, we don't have to eat if you don't want to," I say, trying to sound casual even though I'm freaking out about our time together being cut too short.
    "No, I want to," he says, looking over at me. "I'm just not the best with decisions."
    He's even cuter when he's anxious.
    "Do you like burgers? There's a place around the corner that has the best burgers in the area, according to me."
    Jordan smiles. "I can't argue with that review."
    I smile back and start driving. We sit in comfortable silence, listening to Ariana Grande and I think about changing the song but I see Jordan tapping his fingers on his knee.
    "What kind of music do you listen to?" I ask when I stop at the one traffic light between here and the restaurant.
    "Pretty much anything," he answers quickly. "Just no country."
    "Same," I say, a little too excitedly. "I mean, I assumed you weren't a country fan but you never know. That would've been a deal breaker."
    I look over at him and he looks at me. For a split second, something like worry flashes across his face. It's gone before I can say for sure and then he smiles making little wrinkles crease by his bright eyes.
    I face forward again just in time to see the light turn green. I pull into the restaurant without saying anything else. Asking another question would feel pushy.
    We walk in and up to the screens where you place your order. I make him order on the same one so I can pay. He tries to protest but I win in the end.
    We find a table and sit. I have another question ready in case it's quiet for too long.
    "So," he starts, his voice feels good in my ears after not hearing it for a few minutes. "I guess you know I'm trans."
    I don't know what I thought he was going to say but it definitely wasn't that. "I do," I say, nodding, keeping my voice even as if he just said the sky is blue.
    "I figured, since you said you stalked my Instagram and I post about it sometimes. I just wanted to say it out loud." Jordan picked up a napkin and he's tearing pieces of it off.
    I can tell it was important for him to say that. I'm sure a part of him was scared about how I would react. He trusted me enough to tell me anyway.
    I can't sit here and let Dakota's words roll around in my head without telling him. I just feel like he needs to know.
    "Yeah, I did see it on your profile but Dakota told me, too," I say, softly.
    Jordan pulls his eyebrows together for a second before relaxing again. "She did?"
    I nod. "She texted me the night I met you and told me. I guess she just wanted me to know but I thought it was kind of shitty of her."
    "Yeah, pretty shitty," Jordan says, trying to laugh but it sounds more like a hiccup.
    "I'm sorry," I say, reaching across the table to touch his arm. His skin is warm and a calming sensation radiates through my palm. I let go. "It doesn't change anything for me though."
    Jordan looks at the place my hand was even though it's not there anymore. I'm nervous he's upset or angry or that I said something wrong.
    A waiter brings our food over and I thank him while Jordan stays quiet. I rack my brain for something to say, something to fix this but he speaks first.
    "I'm sorry," he says, looking across the table at me with a tiny smile on his lips. "I'm glad we got that out of the way, though. It's just something I have to do.  It never gets easier."
    "You shouldn't have to," I say without thinking.
    Jordan just shrugs and picks up his burger. He tastes a bite and nods his head. "This is a pretty great burger," he says and it's obvious he's ready to change the subject.
    "Told you," I say, smiling and picking up my own.
    We eat quietly, only making comments about the food or the restaurant. He talks about a burger place in Nevada that had a peanut butter burger.
    "Like peanut butter on a hamburger?" I ask.
    "Exactly like that," he says. "It was so good."
    "I don't think I'd like it," I say, making an overly dramatic, disgusted face.
    Jordan laughs. "Well, you never know until you try."
    This sentence sparks a double meaning in my brain. It can be said about almost anything. I've sworn off relationships and I've been pushing down all my feelings because I've convinced myself that everything will end badly. But you never really know until you try.
    And I can see myself trying with Jordan.