The Quest for Fireworks

Falling Slowly

I get home and I'm still thinking about Jordan. Granted, he's all I talked about all day whether it was with Ben, Megan or texting with Riley.
As much as I've thought about him, I told myself not to text him. Take a break from interacting with him and see if I still feel the same way. The need to talk to him or see him has only grown to almost unbearable.
I throw caution to the wind and text him. "Do you want to hang out again?" No greeting, just right to the point.
Jordan texts back in less than a minute. "Of course. When?"
"Now?"
"Sure, where?"
"Come to my house and we can walk to the park."
"On my way."
Ten minutes later there's a knock on my door. I've changed into black leggings, another band tee and flip flops. I open the door and the first thing I notice is, "No hat."
Jordan's hand reflexively goes to his medium length, reddish-brown hair. "No hat," he says simply.
"I like it," I say, pulling the door closed behind me and leading him down the sidewalk.
"Thank you," he says, running his hand through his hair again.
"Sorry if I threw a wrench in your day, I just got home from work and figured I'd see what you were doing," I say, leaving out the fact that I've been thinking about seeing him again all day.
"Nah, I was just home playing video games. I got home from work a few hours ago."
"Oh, I'm an ass, I don't even know where you work," I say, honestly.
"I'm over at the warehouse for now until I decide where I want to plant my roots. Then I'll look for a real job."
"Every job is a real job," I tell him, because it's true. "You show up, you do what you're supposed to do and you get paid. It's a job."
"You're right," he says, smiling slightly.
The park opens up on our left side and I gesture to the trail ahead. "If we walk up a bit there's benches near a pond."
"I've been to this park before, a while ago when my brothers were still little," he says.
"Oh right, I keep forgetting you're from around here. When did you move away?"
"Four years ago," he says, the words clipped like he's uncomfortable with the question.
I just nod, taking the hint not to push any farther.
We keep walking, passing runners and couples holding hands. I want to hold his hand in mine, feel the comfort of his skin but I'm too nervous. What if he doesn't want me to?
We come up to the pond and I quickly cut in front of Jordan to sit on the first empty bench. He sits next to me but not close enough.
"This is nice," he says, and his genuine voice gives away that he actually means it.
"I like it here, I used to walk here all the time to clear my head when I was...going through some stuff." I don't know why I felt the need to say that but I stopped myself from going further into it.
"Walking is good," he says.
My brain freezes and panic sets in as I can't think of anything to say next. My pants don't have pockets so I've been holding my phone and keys in my hand and my anxiety brain whispers "throw them in the water".
I shock myself and start to laugh. Jordan looks at me from the corner of his eye, probably thinking I've lost my mind.
"Does your brain ever tell you to do things you shouldn't do?" I ask.
"What do you mean?" He asks, turning his head towards me.
"Like for some reason I just thought about throwing my phone in the pond," I say, making myself laugh again.
"Oh, yeah I do that all the time," Jordan admits, laughing too.
Then he takes his phone out of his pocket and holds it over his head. He pulls his arm back and right as I yell, "No," he flings his arm forward.
I look out at the water and expect to see a splash but nothing happens. I look back at him and he's smiling like a little kid. He holds up his other hand which now magically holds his phone.
I laugh again and playfully shove him. "Not funny," I say.
"Then why are you laughing," he asks, his eyes dancing with humor.
I get an overwhelming urge to lean over and kiss him. In this moment, I want nothing more than to feel his lips on mine. Not even in a sexual way, he just looks so cute and happy that it makes my heart swell.
Instead, I swallow my nerves and grab his hand. I lace my fingers through his and he lets me. At first, his hand is stiff but then he folds his fingers around mine.
"What is this?" He asks, softly, looking down at our hands.
"What do you mean?" I ask, afraid I did something wrong.
"I mean, do you like me? Because Dakota just keeps pounding into my head that you're a lesbian and to not let my feelings for you grow but then you act like you like me," he pauses and looks away. "I'm not a girl, you know. So it's confusing."
"Jordan," I say, forcing him to look back at me. "I know that. Of course I know that. If Dakota would bother to ask, then she'd know that I've had boyfriends in the past. Gender isn't a defining quality for whether I like someone or not."
He runs his free hand through his hair again, an obvious anxious habit, but keeps his other one in mine. "I'm sorry for assuming, it's just that it's happened to me before."
"What has?" I ask quietly, not wanting to pry but curious.
"I had to leave Nevada because the girl I was dating didn't want to be with me anymore because I started my transition and she said she couldn't be with a man because she was a lesbian," he says it all in one breath.
He takes a deep breath and starts again. "We lived together and I had nowhere else to go but home. She knew the whole time who I really was but when I started actually becoming that person, it was too much for her I guess."
I squeeze his hand once to get his attention. "She sounds like a bitch," I say and he laughs which was the targeted effect. "I'm really sorry, though. I know that couldn't have been easy for you."
"It sucked," he says. "But I made it and now I get more time with my family."
"I'm proud of you for choosing yourself," I say before I even decide to.
"I've been on testosterone for almost two years and it's the best decision I've ever made," he says, strongly.
I squeeze his hand again and he squeezes mine back. "Alright, enough about me," he says. "Let's get back to throwing your phone in the pond."
I laugh and scoot closer to him. I lean my head on his shoulder and it feels like I'm watching myself from outside my body. I would never make moves like this, regardless of how small they are. Being next to Jordan makes me feel something I've never truly felt before. I feel like myself, I feel safe.
In such a short amount of time, I've found something I didn't even know I was looking for.

We walk back to my apartment, hand in hand and I feel so giddy. I try to hide my smile but it's impossible. I never want this feeling to go away.
But then we're standing at my door and I think about inviting him in when Jordan drops my hand and takes a step away from me.
"I should get home," he says and my good mood deflates a little. "I have an early morning."
"Oh, yeah. Me too," I say, even though I don't wake up until 8:00am, 8:30am if I'm not going to the office.
"I'll text you later," he says, tentatively, almost as if he's asking.
My mood inflates again. "Sure," I say, trying to keep my cool.
"Later, Avery," he says. I don't think I'll ever get used to him saying my name.
"Goodbye, Jordan."