Archive of Our Own

Early on in their relationship, maybe too early, Ruby had circled Otis’ birthday on the calendar that hangs in the kitchen of her family home.

These days she avoids looking at the calendar altogether and regrets having used permanent marker. Her parents do the same. It’s a surprise her mum hasn’t chucked the calendar entirely, no warning, no questions asked, after they finally confronted her about her recent sullen behavior (so humiliating) and she had to confirm the breakup.

Ruby assured them and assured them and assured them again that she’s fine, but the looks her parents often give her when they think she isn’t paying attention tell a different story. Occasionally having Olivia and Anwar over to the house seems to at least keep her mum and dad from outright expressing any more concern. It’s a start.

“Are you sure everyone’s costume is as ugly as mine?” Anwar asks.

“Absolutely,” Olivia answers from her spot at the foot of Ruby’s bed. She's sitting right where Otis had sat when he broke her fucking heart. “There’s no escaping it, but if it means getting rid of Hope and those awful uniforms, it’ll be worth it.”

Olivia is the one who convinced them to participate in sex school’s official coming out. If nothing else, it serves as a distraction from recent events. Like with most things, Anwar’s a grouchy bitch, but goes with it.

Ruby inspects the flesh-toned bodysuit meant to be worn beneath whatever papier-mâché monstrosity the costume department has planned. “Whoever’s responsible for this tragedy was planning to stitch you into it the day of.”

“So I would’ve been trapped wearing it for the rest of the day?” Anwar nearly explodes.

“I’ll put in a zipper so that won’t happen.” Ruby sets the clump of stretch fabric aside and dusts her hands off, making a mental note not to handle the cheap-feeling material more than she needs to.

Ruby goes over to the wardrobe where she keeps sewing supplies organized in her dad’s old tackle boxes and the sewing machine specifically left to her by her nan. She frowns, realizing the bag where she keeps all of her favorites is missing.

“I didn’t know you sew,” Olivia says.

“You never asked,” Ruby snaps, then catches herself. Her shoulders drop with a silent sigh as she stares up at the ceiling. “My nan taught me when I was just a girl.”

“That’s cool.” The enthusiasm in Olivia’s voice sounds genuine, which only makes it more embarrassing.

“What’s this?” Anwar asks, from where he’s inspecting her vanity mirror.

Photos of the three of them are prominently on display of course. It had taken some time, but Ruby had eventually removed the Polaroid of her and Otis kissing and the admittance ticket to the bowling alley. It had gotten too painful to look at. Anwar points out the one thing she forgot to stash away, a pencil sketch of a suit jacket along with measurements in faded pencil scribbles and sample scraps of fabric.

“Nothing,” Ruby replies. That’s the truth. It has to be nothing to her now.

“Not my style or measurements,” Anwar says, “and I can’t imagine you in that particular color palette.”

Ruby’s first instinct is to get angry, to snap, be a bitch. Anything to avoid having to explain herself, anything to avoid the relentless, white hot shame that burns through her at the reminder of how hard she fell for fucking Otis Milburn just to be rejected. The sadness floods in right after, washing away the anger and even the shame. How long until she stops feeling this way?

“It was a project I started a while ago and forgot all about.” Ruby ignores how awkward the words feel only after she hears herself. “It was meant to be a birthday present…for Milburn.”

The room grows quiet and cold, nearly as cold as the last time Otis had been here.

“He doesn’t deserve you or your gift,” Olivia says.

“He’s a prick,” Anwar adds. “You aren’t planning on still giving it to him, are you?”

“No. Of course not.” Ruby scoffs. Granted, she hadn’t thought about it. She’s been avoiding thinking about anything Otis-related since the France trip. Not liking the sympathetic looks from her friends, Ruby plucks the sketch off the mirror and tosses it into the bin. “I wasted enough time on him already.”

Satisfied with her answer, Olivia and Anwar go on to gossip about their fellow schoolmates as Ruby begins to alter Anwar’s bodysuit for “the thing.” She’s more than happy for something else that needs her attention, an easy excuse if her friends notice that she isn’t participating in their conversation with the same killer instinct she would normally.

Once Olivia and Anwar head home and Ruby makes sure her dad is comfortably situated and sound asleep, she pulls out a box holding pieces of fabric cut into the pattern of a jacket and haphazardly pinned, just in the beginning stages of becoming something. She stares at it for a long moment before shoving it back under her bed. Before getting into her nighttime routine, Ruby fishes the little sketch out of the bin and just stares at it for a while longer.

***

“Otis, would it kill you to just sit still and let me finish?”

“Why? Why are you doing this to me? You agreed you wouldn’t try to change me.”

“You don’t need to remind me,” Ruby grumbles, “and I’m not ‘trying to change you.’ I’m not going to make you wear anything you don’t want to, but if I feel the urge to make the occasional suggestion, I want to make sure it fits you. That doesn’t mean you have to wear it.”

Otis sits, slumped over at the foot of his bed while Ruby stands between his spread legs, measuring his shoulder width with her trusty pink measuring tape. He frowns, but allows her to do as she pleases. “The rules haven’t changed now that we’re officially dating?”

If anything, she’s become more accepting of his idiosyncrasies and overall weirdness. God help her.

“No, the rules haven’t changed,” Ruby says. “I promise.”

And yet Otis continues to frown. “Are you trying reverse psychology on me?”

“You’re so annoying, Otis, I swear.” Ruby wraps the measuring tape around the widest part of his head, right above his ears and across his forehead. As she hums, she lets it loosen until it falls over his eyes. “Just as I thought. Your head is the biggest part of you.”

When she tries to walk over to the bedside table where she’s been writing down numbers, Otis hooks a hand around her hip and pulls her into his lap. He tucks his face into her neck and kisses her there, ready and waiting for his reward for being so good and compliant. She curls her arm across his neck and plays with his hair, shivering at the swipe of his tongue across her skin. She’ll never understand the pull he has on her, but she's grown to like it.

“Wait.” Ruby pushes off of him. “Let me write these numbers down before I forget.”

She hears more than sees the way Otis flops back onto the mattress in defeat and feels his eyes follow her as she writes down the last set of numbers. The intentional way he watches her, actively trying to figure her out, interested and attentive, it feels good. It feels equally good to leave the boy who seems to know everything about everything guessing.

“Should I be afraid of what you’re planning?” Otis asks.

“Always.” Ruby means to give him a sharp smile just to be struck by the blueness of his eyes. It lessens the impact, but she doesn't mind. “I think I’m starting get your style.”

“Style? Me? Since when?”

“Everyone has their own style, Otis. Stop smiling like that. I didn’t say yours is any good.”

“But you still like me,” he teases, and doesn’t stop smiling. He walks his fingers up her thigh and she tracks the movement. It’s mind-blowing how receptive she is to his touch, how much she welcomes and wants him.

“No idea why,” Ruby says with feigned indifference.

Otis raises his eyebrows as if hearing a challenge. “Well, I can think of a few reasons.”

Once she has everything she needs, Ruby turns to face him fully. He really has been very good all afternoon. “Are you going to talk about it or are you going to show me?”

He doesn’t say another word, just tugs her back into his bed and proceeds to show her.

***

After turning her room upside down and checking her car twice, Ruby finally gives into the idea that she probably left her missing pouch of sewing tools in Otis’ room. She goes as long as she possibly can without needing it until one night when she’s working on the thing she said she wouldn’t work on anymore and accidentally stitches the left sleeve to the right sleeve opening. It’ll require a seam ripper if she doesn’t want to ruin the whole thing.

Part of her thinks she should. If only undoing her feelings for Otis would be as easy as picking at a seam and watching everything unravel to nothing. Despite no longer talking or interacting at all, she still can’t bring herself to stop or throw it all away like he had. When their paths cross at school, she doesn’t even look at him. She can’t. It hurts. It still hurts. Whenever she feels his gaze and she knows it’s him, she hates how easy it is for him to look at her, to move on from her, but it never lasts. The anger always gives way to sadness.

On her first attempt, Ruby instinctively swipes out of messages once she sees the last thing she texted him, agreeing to meet him after she drove Olivia and Anwar to the sexual health clinic. That was before France. They haven’t even tried to make contact since.

After doing her household duties for the night, Ruby circles back around to it. A simple, frank did I leave my sewing pouch at your house? will more than suffice. No pleasantries. Nothing personal. Straight to the point. Her phone dings before she even puts her phone down.

OTIS
Yes it’s here. I can give it to you at school on Monday?

Ruby groans, throwing herself back onto her bed. The last thing she needs is for the anticipation and anxiety to ruin her entire weekend.

RUBY
I can pick it up from your house tomorrow. I’d prefer you not be there

Her reply might be a little harsh, casually cruel, but so is he.

OTIS
I understand. I’ll let my mum know and leave it by the front door.

A second text appears right after:

OTIS
How have you been?

Ruby doesn’t owe him a reply. She stares until her phone screen fades to black and sets it aside for the rest of the night.

The next day, Ruby still makes sure to look immaculate before showing up at his house. She parks at the top of the steps like she has so many times before and just sits in her car for a minute. After making herself comfortable in the red hillside chateau, it feels odd to have to consciously keep her distance.

Jean answers the door with a baby cradled in her arms. Instead of judging her outfit right away, which is always Ruby’s first instinct, she gets distracted by the blue fleece blanket the infant is swaddled in.

“Ruby, hello. Otis said you would be stopping by.”

“Hi,” Ruby says flatly. “You had your baby.”

“I did.” Jean shifts her weight from foot to foot, peering down at a tiny, round face staring back at her with enormous blue eyes. “Joy, say hello to Ruby, your big brother’s…friend.”

“Not exactly,” Ruby sings beneath her breath. “I’ll just take my sewing pouch and be on my way. I have a million other things to do today.”

“Right. Would you like to come in?”

Ruby focuses on Jean’s face, resisting the urge to glance into the house behind her. There are too many memories associated with the staircase alone. “No thank you.”

“Otis isn’t here at the moment. He went to the arcade with Eric.”

Not that that means much. Otis told his mum he was going to meet up with Eric at least a dozen times when he was really in Ruby’s car out in the middle of the woods.

“I really do have other plans I need to get to so…”

Jean’s expression softens into something that can only be pity and it makes Ruby want to laugh. The good doctor made no attempt to disguise how little she thought of Ruby’s relationship with her son. She had written it off as helicopter parent brand protectiveness and told herself it didn’t matter since she’d never seriously date Otis anyway. That backfired spectacularly.

“Alright then.” Jean nods. “I’ll go grab that for you. Just a minute.”

Once Jean disappears from the doorway, Ruby takes in the exterior of the house and falters in her fight against the memories. She can’t help remembering the times she’d sit outside on nights she was reluctant to go home, staring out at the vast stretch of trees and water and darkness, how Otis would drape a blanket over her shoulders and hold her hand in the strangely comfortable silence. Sometimes he’d ask her what she was thinking. Sometimes he’d just kiss her. Sometimes he’d ask her to stay the night.

“Here you go.” Jean extends a hand, clutching the small, purple sequin pouch.

“Thank you. Goodbye, Dr. Milburn.” Ruby turns, ready to be done with this stifling conversation and the flood of unwanted memories.

“Ruby, before you go…”

She turns back around even though she absolutely does not want to.

“Just because I know Otis would like to know,” Jean says, “how are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.” The words escape before she can even comprehend the question. “It’s not his problem anymore.”

“That’s an…interesting way of seeing it,” Jean says in an analytical yet curious way. Suddenly, Ruby feels like she’s sitting on the other side of a therapy session and it makes her skin crawl. “It’s natural to worry about how a former partner is navigating post-dissolution emotions. It may not be his problem as you put it, but he does still care, very much so.” Jean’s eyes roll up toward the ceiling. “Even if he doesn’t have the most…agreeable way of expressing it.”

Ruby does laugh. This is the exact kind of overly involved parental behavior Otis would bitch about. There’s a story there, she can tell, but it’s no longer her business. She doesn’t need to know. She shouldn’t care.

“That’s just like Otis,” Ruby says quietly, shaking her head. “If you tell him I said I’m fine, I’m sure he’d assume it means the opposite.” Not that it’s an entirely untrue assumption. “And do nothing about it.”

Jean’s eyes dart downward, evidently swallowing something she might have said. Even she knows there are some lines that shouldn’t be crossed.

“But most guys don’t care at all so…” As much as Ruby would like to avoid eye contact, if this is the last time she ever has to speak to Jean again, she’ll hold her head high for it. “He isn’t perfect, but I wasn’t dating him because I expected him to be. Not near the end at least. You raised a good son, Dr. Milburn. Anyway, thanks again.” She squeezes the pouch in one hand and starts to turn.

“You really care for him deeply, don’t you?”

That’s pretty fucking obvious, but Ruby bites back a rude comment along with the truth.

“Congratulations on giving birth or whatever.” Ruby doesn’t know quite what you’re supposed to say to a new mum and doesn’t much care, but she does steal one more glance at the chubby little face poking out of the bundle in Jean’s arms. “She has your eyes.”

The same eyes as her oldest, the same shade of blue Ruby still feels weak for, even now.

Jean sends her off with a polite farewell that’s mostly lost on Ruby. Honestly, she doesn’t need Jean Milburn to spell out the fact that Otis cares. That has never been something she questioned. She knows he cares about people in general because that’s just who he is. It’s on her for wanting more than he could give her and she knows it. What to do with this knowledge is something else entirely.

Once she’s home, back in her comfy clothes, and getting to that important business of hers (using the seam ripper to fix her mistakes with the jacket sleeve), Ruby can’t get the image of Otis’ baby sister wrapped in that specific blanket out of her head.

***

Her schoolmates might not believe it, but Ruby Matthews is definitely the type of person with a favorite craft shop.

It had been her nan’s favorite place in the entire world so it only feels natural to continue to shop there even after her passing. Some of Ruby’s favorite memories involve holding the strap of her nan’s purse and trailing behind her down each aisle, big brown eyes taking in the stacks and stacks of fabrics lining the walls and reaching to the ceiling, all of the different colors, patterns and textures. She’d listen with rapt attention as her nan would talk about the joy of creating something beautiful and functional that can be gifted to someone you care about.

Now that she's older, giving Otis rides home after school means dragging him along on errands.

“Otis!” Ruby claps her hands. “Do you have to touch everything in the shop?”

“It’s not every day you see medieval torture tools for sale.” Otis holds up a pack of sinister-looking pliers and tweezers with cute periwinkle handles. “What’s this for exactly?”

“Beading and jewelry-making.”

Otis considers her answer before putting it back exactly where he found it. Ruby leads him over to the fabric section, where the vibrant colors and bold patterns make her feel right at home.

“Have you ever made a blanket before?” Otis asks.

“Sure. It’s one of the first things my nan taught me to sew.”

“Could you make a blanket maybe for a baby…?”

“Easily enough,” Ruby replies. “For your new sibling?”

Otis nods. “I’ll pay for the materials and I can pay you for your time if you want…?”

Ruby stops to think about it even though she already knows her answer. “I can do that. You’re definitely paying for the materials, but what kind of girlfriend would I be if I made you pay me? Don’t be ridiculous, Otis.”

Catching his fathomless blue eyes staring at her like she’s surprised him, like she’s special to him or something, derails her train of thought. She has to look away, wondering why she feels so warm so suddenly. He hasn’t even said or done anything but look at her for fuck’s sake.

“Well?” Ruby doesn’t mean to snap, but it kind of sounds like it. Otis just smirks like he knows. “What did you have in mind? Dinosaurs?”

“Dinosaurs!” Otis agrees. “A universal, gender neutral interest for all ages.”

With the amount of dinosaur toys decorating ever flat surface in Otis’ bedroom, it’s not hard to guess. He ends up choosing a soft-to-the-touch minky fabric covered in a variety of dinosaur silhouettes, some red, some blue, some green, some with stripes (of course) and others with polka dots. It cost more per yard than Ruby has ever spent in one trip here and she’s never actually worked with fleece before. The idea of messing it up nearly has her sweating beneath her unbothered facade.

“Ooh, this is very cute.” The old woman behind the register can’t help but comment as she takes her sweet time folding up the fabric. “Do you mind me asking what you’re working on?”

Ruby minds and nearly says so, but Otis cuts her off. “Oh, my mum’s having a baby. And my girlfriend,” Otis bumps her shoulder with his, “is making a baby blanket.”

The cashier brightens. “Isn’t that sweet? What are you planning on using as lining?”

“Satin, probably,” Ruby replies coolly. “I already have some.”

“Wonderful.” The old woman giggles, tilting her head in Otis’ direction. “Aren’t you lucky?”

“I am,” Otis agrees, zero hesitation, absolutely beaming.

It’s hard to put into words what Ruby feels as Otis continues to chat with the cashier, so comfortable conversing with adults. Something like embarrassment, but it feels weirdly good too? It’s similar to how her dad takes every opportunity to talk her up to anyone who will listen, so bright and proud and candid. Ruby wants it to stop and never end at the same time.

Otis ends up having dinner at her house, talking Eurovisions past with her dad. It isn’t until much later that Ruby has time alone and spends it scouring the internet for every tutorial on how to make a baby blanket with minky fabric. The steps are straightforward enough, nothing out of her skill set. The first cut is always the hardest and it being a gift on Otis’ behalf, only adds to the pressure. She surprises herself with how much she doesn’t want to mess it up.

And oh fuck. She cares. She cares a lot.

(When Ruby goes back to the shop in need of extra fabric, of course the same old lady is at the register. She mercifully doesn’t comment despite clearly recognizing Ruby and even gives her a bit of a discount.)

***

On her mum’s nights off, when Ruby doesn’t feel like going out to yet another Countdown to the End of Moordale Secondary party, she quite enjoys quiet nights watching reality TV reruns at Adam’s house. She brings Baby who thankfully gets along fabulously with Madam. Platonic friendship with Adam Groff is one of the most unexpected results of dating Otis Milburn and the most sustainable.

With Otis’ coat nearly complete, a thought that makes Ruby feel somewhat sad, she sets it aside and turns her attention to cute little outfits for canine companions. The sweater she made for Madam is a bit too large on her, but luckily, Ruby keeps a sewing kit in her car and makes alterations while Kourtney bitch-slaps Kim so hard she falls into the stark white wall and leaves a smear of makeup behind. Absolute classic.

“Question,” Ruby says. “Are you rebounding with Rahim?”

Ruby hadn’t felt anything but curiosity at the rumors about Adam and Rahim being spotted together around town. It seems so silly to think back on how she took one look at cool, untouchable Rahim and decide he would be her boyfriend. If how she thought she should feel about Rahim was a drop of water in an empty bucket, her annoyingly real feels for Otis are like the sea, endless, soothing and difficult to traverse at times.

“No,” Adam replies. “I think we might be friends, but I’m not sure.”

“Ugh. I’d rather die than be friends with Otis’ sister-ex.”

“You’d be very lucky to be friends with Ola.”

“You’re friends with her?” Ruby asks, failing to keep the surprise from her voice. Adam nods. “What do you even have in common?”

“We worked at the same shop for a bit. You don’t need to have a lot in common to care about someone.”

The things Adam says can be hit or miss most times, but when he gets it right he really does make each word count.

“What do you and Rahim have in common other than Eric?” Ruby asks.

“Poetry. He reads my poems and tells me what he thinks.”

“Adam Groff, poet,” Ruby says, and finds it doesn’t sound as strange as she first thought it might. “Well, you continue to be full of surprises. What are your poems about? Eric?”

“In the beginning. Now it’s a way to…say what I’m feeling without violence or property damage.”

“Growth,” Ruby says with a nod. “If Eric showed up right now and demanded you take him back, would you?”

Adam spends some time with the question, really putting thought into it. “I’d like that. A lot. But he won’t. Eric is very comfortable and open about being himself.” The smallest smile tugs at his lips even though his eyes remain sad. “I’m not yet…with myself, but I think…I’d like to be before I date Eric or anyone.” Adam gives himself a little nod and clenches his fists, determined in the face of heartbreak. “That’s what I’ve decided.”

Seeing Adam in this new light, Ruby almost feels bad about all of the times she had written him off as Aimee’s brainless, brute boyfriend. He’s actually sort of wonderful and makes her wish she were handling her own heartache with half of his grace.

“Alright, this is as good as it’s going to get.” Ruby holds up the finished outfit in front of her. “Collect your dog.”

Adam calls out to Madam who jumps up onto the couch between them. Madam lives up to her name and doesn’t put up a fight as Adam holds her still and Ruby maneuvers her into her cute little sweater made from the same fabric as the one Baby’s wearing.

“What do you think?” Ruby asks.

“It looks nice.”

Not the most elegant of compliments, but she can tell Adam means it.

“Have you ever thought of starting a business?” Adam asks. “Like Etsy?”

Ruby laughs, mostly at the fact that Adam knows what Etsy is. “No, not seriously.”

“Ruby Matthews, dog seamstress.”

“Never say those words in the same sentence ever again, thank you.” Ruby props her heels up on the edge of the coffee table and relaxes a little more into the rather drab, outdated couch that reminds her of the one in her own home. “Where’s the ice cream I was promised?”

“I ate the last ice lolly,” Adam confesses. “Do you want the gluten-free shit my mum buys when she talks about going on a diet or the good stuff she buys to treat herself?”

“Both,” Ruby replies.

Madam follows Adam into the next room and the little dog seems to move fine in her new sweater. Ruby pulls Baby into her lap, absentmindedly carding her fingers through ridiculously soft brown fur with natural caramel highlights. Even Baby was blessed with natural beauty, truly a Matthews.

Alone with her thoughts, Ruby wonders how she would have responded if Adam had turned the question around on her. If Otis showed up begging for a second chance, how would she respond? She knows what her heart still wants, but she also knows she won’t be able to handle more slow, drawn-out rejection. Making the same mistake again. Ruby Matthews should be above that damn it.

When Adam returns, it’s with two bowls containing two scoops of ice cream each and a drip stain down the front of his shirt. Ruby decides to push all thoughts of Otis, his fast approaching birthday and her near complete gift from her mind at least for the rest of the night.

***

“Isn’t it a safety hazard to use a sewing machine with such long nails?”

Otis walks into Ruby’s room with a plate of bar treats he swears are healthy and her dad has fallen in love with. It doesn’t escape her how comfortable Otis has made himself in her house, especially the kitchen, or how Baby has taken to following him around. Otis is definitely sneaking scraps to her dog even though Ruby has yet to catch him in the act.

“I’m a pro at rolling fat joints and changing records with my nails, of course I can sew too.” Seeing Otis’ disapproval—he can be so paranoid sometimes—Ruby removes her press-on nails before she continues patching a tear in her dad’s beloved dressing gown. She has adapted to sewing, both by hand and machine, with her nails, but normally doesn’t. She never really sews or takes her nails off in front of anyone other than family, and now Otis.

“Huh,” he says. “I never knew you could remove them.”

“I switched to press-ons not too long ago…”

It was around the time her dad had to quit his job and her mum sat her down and told her they would have to make some lifestyle changes, especially involving money. Ruby had a private, internal meltdown, put on a brave face for her mum, agreed to play her part, then went out to get stupid drunk and had sex with Otis Milburn for the first time.

“And they don’t ever just fall off?” Otis asks. Most times she assumes he’s teasing her, but other times, he really does sound intrigued by her and her world, one so different from his own.

“No, Otis. Some of us have self-awareness of how they look.”

“Sounds exhausting.” Otis holds out one of his creations that looks to be a lot of oats and some kind of dried berries and nuts. With her hands occupied, Ruby opens her mouth and allows him to feed her. He seems confident in it, like with most things he considers in his realm, but continues to watch her, waiting for validation or criticism. He cares for her opinion and the thought is almost as sweet as the pops of chocolate hitting her tongue. “Do you like it?”

Ruby chews slowly, letting the sweet and salty notes ping her taste buds. “It’s alright.”

“It’s better than alright!” her dad shouts from down the hallway. “Otis, these are genius, mate!”

Ruby feels her face grow hot. “Dad! Are you seriously listening to our conversation right now?”

The silence she receives in return is a resounding yes.

Ruby sighs even though she isn’t upset, not at all. Otis sets the plate on the vanity and returns to her, draping his arms over her shoulders, pressing his nose into her hair. Ruby leans into him.

“You’re very good at this,” Otis says, his voice quieter now with his lips right by her ear. “Have you ever thought about making a career out of it?”

Her brow furrows. “Like becoming a seamstress?”

“If you want. Or a fashion designer? Since fashion is your thing.”

“My nan only ever taught me how to make quilts and accessories. I draw sometimes, but I’ve never really designed clothing or tried to make my own. Mixing and matching pieces is a lot different than creating something from scratch.”

“It could be something fun to try out,” Otis says. “Clearly you have the skill and the vision for it. I’m just now realizing I never asked what you’d like to do after school. I just assumed fashion because you’re obviously passionate about it.”

Ruby glances at her bedroom door that’s wide open. Before she can even formulate the thought, Otis reads her hesitation and tiptoes over to close the door. They both know her dad won’t think much of it, being the irresponsible parent that trusts her. Otis sits close to her on the window seat and waits for her answer.

“Mum and I have had conversations about the future,” Ruby starts, unsure of where she’s going with this, but it’s Otis she’s talking to, she trusts him not to judge her even if she stumbles. “With money being tight and needing someone to be home with dad all the time now, I offered to forgo more school and get a job, help out here if that’s what they need. I’m willing to do that no problem.”

Otis takes her hand and gives her a warm squeeze.

“Dad won’t have any of that, though.” Ruby sighs loudly. “Both of them, really. They think I should follow my dreams or whatever, that I sacrifice enough of my time now, which is ridiculous. If it’s for family, it’s not a sacrifice.”

“They aren’t wrong, but neither are you,” Otis says. “So what’s the dream, then? If Ruby Matthews could do anything in the world—we already know that’s true—but money is of no consequence, what would it be?”

She glances at the door one more time before meeting Otis’ attentive eyes. “I’ve been considering…physiotherapy.”

Otis blinks at her in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Ruby’s eyes drop to their joined hands as Otis thumbs over her knuckles. “When my dad was first diagnosed, I didn’t take it very well. I hated feeling useless. I still do a lot of the time. It became my job to drive him to physical therapy, wait for him to finish, make sure he does his home exercises. I like doing whatever I can to make things easier for him. If I could do that for other people feeling the same…” She shrugs her shoulders and refuses to meet his eyes, not knowing what she might find there or what hers are giving away.

“That sounds amazing.” Otis sounds so bright and earnest and she doesn’t know why it still surprises her, the way he meets her honesty head-on with gusto and support. It never gets old either.

“It’s just an idea,” she says, trying to play it off. “I’m still not a hundred-percent sure…”

“If it really is what you want, I’m sure there are scholarships and different programs,” Otis says. “I’ll look into it. Only if you want! It’s your choice. You have options. I think that’s a very noble career path, helping to improve someone’s quality of life. Sort of like your mum does. I think your dad would be really proud. I can see that for you.”

“What about you?” Ruby asks. She isn’t used to talking about herself like this, dipping so far beneath the surface, and as good as it feels knowing she has Otis’ full support, it still makes her feel more vulnerable than she’s entirely comfortable with. “Do you plan to be like a legit sex therapist?”

“Uni has always been the plan,” Otis replies. “I think I’d strongly consider therapy as a career path. Not sure about specializing in sex and relationships like my mum, but I wouldn’t have considered going down the therapy route at all if it wasn’t for last year. Now look at me. It’s interesting how fast things can change in such a short time.”

“It is,” Ruby agrees. “It has.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” Otis asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Ruby laughs and answers his question with a kiss. They’ve kissed countless times at this point. Every time leaves her feeling unhinged, acting without thought, doing anything to be closer to him. Otis kisses her with a passion most would assume the mild-mannered nerd could never possess, sucking at her bottom lip, then biting, which is her fucking move, this fucking arsehole. Ruby responds by humming in the back of her throat, driving her fingers through his hair, tugging, keeping him right where he is even though Otis makes no attempt to escape. He drops a hand to her waist, thumb twitching along that bit of skin just under her top. He tastes so sweet and so completely himself. She’s comfortable with Otis and his place in her space, in her house, in her life, even his fucking tongue licking into her mouth right now.

At the sound of scraping and scratching, they pull away to find Baby focused solely on the plate of treats on the vanity, jumping to try to reach it, failing and trying again.

“Baby, no,” Ruby groans.

Otis gives Ruby one last kiss on the side of her face before going to scoop Baby up in one arm. The tiny, fierce creature pays him no mind, still eyeing the plate. “You know, Eric told me Adam is weirdly good with dogs.”

“What are you suggesting, Otis? Baby is perfect.”

“Baby is perfect,” he agrees. “And starving. Aren’t you? Is she starving you, Baby?”

Baby continues to ignore him and Ruby doesn’t even try to fight off the wide, toothy smile that shows on her face.

“I’m almost done here,” Ruby says. “Could you feed her? Thank you. You’re the best.”

Otis feigns annoyance, but when Ruby reaches a hand out for him, he instinctively surges forward to receive a kiss for his trouble. God, they’ve gotten so sappy and domestic. She never thought she’d become one of those girlfriends, especially not with any of the boys at her school. She should be judging herself, but finds she doesn’t care.

“If this uni thing doesn’t work out, you could always just be a housewife,” Ruby teases.

“You want me to be your housewife, Rubes?” Otis teases her right back.

“You’d have to do all the sewing then.”

“You’ll have to teach me then.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Ruby actually sees herself full-on grinning in the vanity mirror and doesn’t even try to school her expression back into something more passive. She doesn’t immediately get back to sewing, but savors the aftereffect of being kissed silly and the knowledge that she’s cared for and about. Her heart swells with something she’s sure she’s never felt before in her life, something she never wants to be without.

***

Today is the day. Otis’ birthday.

Ruby looks over the finished jacket one more time, inspecting it from every angle. She makes sure that it doesn’t feel itchy or scratchy, knowing how sensitive Otis’ skin can be. She thought about sewing in a tag under the collar, something bearing the embellished signature R logo that she sometimes doodles in the margins of her notebooks during particularly boring lectures, but ultimately decided against it. It’s just a jacket. He doesn’t need to be thinking about her every time he wears it. Though…a foolish part of her still hopes.

Banishing that thought, Ruby grabs the yellow sunglasses she never returned and slides it into the inside pocket beneath one lapel. It’s specifically a sunglasses pocket, shaped exactly so. Ruby carefully folds the jacket in a way that minimizes the chance for creases as much as possible and places it into a gift box. She wraps it in nondescript brown paper, not wanting to draw unwanted attention. It fits in her drab Hope-issued schoolbag so at least the ugly has some purpose.

This will be the last day, Ruby tells herself. The last day she has to look at this garment that only reminds her of him and all the time she spent with him and the time she spent working on it for him. This is the last thing she has to work on for him. Oh how good it’ll feel to finally be rid of it, rid of the last piece of him that she’s been clinging to for whatever pathetic reason.

Ruby keeps an eye out for Otis all day, hoping to catch him alone, but Eric doesn’t make that easy. The gift box burns a hole in her schoolbag all day and she can’t concentrate on much else. When she finally manages to ditch Anwar and Olivia at the end of the day and spots Otis by himself, face in his locker, Ruby musters up the courage to walk over to him.

“Milburn.”

The moment he turns at the sound of his name, Ruby shoves the box she’s been so privately meticulous about roughly into his chest. Otis flinches, completely caught off-guard.

“Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you?” Otis barely grasps onto the gift before she lets go. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Well, I got it for you before so…” Ruby crosses her arms. “It’s non-refundable. Seems like a waste to not give it to you. That’s all.”

“Thank you,” he says, with more certainty and maybe even something else she refuses to acknowledge. “Should I open it now…?”

“No!” Ruby shouts before she can catch herself, instantly regretting the outburst, gritting her teeth. “I mean, you can open it later. It’s nothing special.”

“Um, well, I’m having a little thing at my house tonight, an actual small gathering this time,” Otis says. “If you aren’t busy. You could invite Olivia and Anwar too if you’d like. I don’t know how willing they’d be to…but you’re welcome to. I’d…I’d like you…to be there…but only if you want to.”

“Thank you for the invite, but I can’t tonight. I need to be home.”

“Oh, alright.” Otis nods and nods and nods the way he does when he’s nervous. “Um, do you maybe want to go for a walk or something right now?”

Her lips flatten, perplexed by his request, but this wouldn’t be the first time when it comes to him. “Why would you want to do that?”

Otis hugs the gift box to his chest and twists from side to side. “It’s just…been a while since we talked and I think it’d be nice to-to talk again.” He exhales a quiet breath. “I’m not above using my birthday as an excuse to get you to talk to me.”

“You need an excuse to talk to me?”

“Don’t I?” Otis asks, and it sounds more like uncertainty than an accusation. “I figured that’s what you meant by not wanting to be around me. Does this mean…?” Her ears pick up at the hope rising in his voice. It would be a shame to snuff it out on his birthday of all days, but at the same time… “Would you be open to maybe being friends one day…?”

It’d be so easy to give in to what he’s asking of her, fall back into his orbit and the ease with which they once had around each other. It’s right there, but Ruby knows it would be dishonest. He hurt her once in the name of being honest. How can she respond with anything, but honesty, even if it hurts? Standing in front of him now, it’s clear that every time she sat down at her sewing machine to work on his jacket, it wasn’t a goodbye, but a continuous choice, a re-commitment to her feelings for him.

Fuck it all.

“Otis, I’m not sure I’ll ever want to be friends with you.” Seeing the way his shoulders drop and his expression fractures, she quickly puts a hand up. “It’s not because I hate you now or anything. It’s just…my feelings for you haven’t changed.” Now that she’s spoken the words aloud, she knows wholeheartedly that they’re true. Damn it. “I love you, Otis, still, even after everything. I love you enough to accept what you want, even if it’s not with me…”

Mouth hanging open, eyes wide, Otis collapses back against the locker next to his. “If…if we’re being honest, I’d be a lot happier if you and I were still…” He ducks his head as if trying to physically stop himself from getting this wrong. “In each other’s lives, I guess. I want that. I really do, Ruby, but I know that would be selfish so I won’t ask that of you…”

He’s too nice. This is the downside of dating someone as genuinely caring as Otis. If it were anyone else, they wouldn’t even be having this conversation. Unlike anyone else, Otis lets all of what he’s feeling show on his face. She meant it when she said it would be so much easier if she could hate him. Ruby bravely meets his gaze and tries to be as open as she’ll ever allow herself, hoping he sees acceptance instead of pain.

“Right then,” Ruby says abruptly. She wants to think all of what he just said culminates to I miss you, but she won’t dare let herself be tricked into thinking he cares more than he actually does, not again. She won’t be deceived by her own heart a second time. “I’ve gotta go.”

“But, Ruby, if—”

“Muppet, for tonight, I was thinking—” Maeve swings around the corner and her defenses go right up the second she spots Ruby. After her time spent in America, Maeve's whole "too good for Moordale" vibe increased tenfold. 

Ruby has to laugh and if it sounds bitter oh well. She has to, realizing they stood in this exact formation before, out by the car park the day of their double date with Eric and Adam that changed so much for her. Even more has changed since then.

“Maeve, oh, you’re here, hi,” Otis says frantically. “Ruby was just—”

“Leaving,” Ruby cuts him off. She could easily ruin Maeve Wiley’s day with words alone and it might even feel good, as temporary as that high often is. She could, but chooses to wordlessly excuse herself instead.

“Ruby,” Otis says her name in this strangled, almost helpless way. “Wait! I have something for you too!”

She doesn’t turn back until she’s well away from Maeve, not quite out of earshot, but Otis has to run after her. He holds out an envelope that Ruby just stares at.

“What’s this?” she asks.

“Some, um, scholarship information.” Surprisingly, he has the tact to lower his voice. “I looked into it like I said I would. If you want any help with applications, personal essay things, feel free to text or email me, if that’s easier. I’m sure you can do it on your own, but you don’t have to.”

She doesn’t know how to respond to that so she just nods, takes the envelope and continues on her way. Once she turns the corner, Ruby presses her back to a locker, barely feeling the cold metal against her back, too distracted by how hard her heart is thumping in her chest. In all the times she thought about this day, she didn’t expect to leave with a gift of her own.

“What was that about?” Maeve asks Otis. Ruby just barely picks up their voices.

“I don’t know what you—I mean, we were just…talking.”

“She give you that? For your birthday?”

Ruby walks away before she can catch his response. As much as a part of her wants to hear his thoughts on it, see his reaction, know if he likes it or not, she won’t let herself linger. Somehow this goodbye she’s been planning for months quickly spiraled out of her control and doesn’t feel like a goodbye at all.

***

“Ruby, you promised.”

“But it would be so much quicker if I just fixed it myself.”

“No!” Otis holds one of his ugly striped shirt to his chest as if cradling a baby or something equally as precious. “I want to learn how to do it myself. I want you to teach me. I don’t want to have to bother you every time I tear a seam.”

Sprawled out across Otis’ bed, Ruby groans and pulls the sheets up over her head. It’s the laziest kind of weekend, completely gray out, rain singing a rhythmic song as it hits the metal gutters. She hears the thud of Otis’ knees hitting the ground at the side of the bed and his head dips under the sheets to look at her.

“I’ll make you French toast,” Otis says. “With fresh fruit and sticky sweet syrup…”

“Mmm, so tempting.”

“I’d say it’s a fair trade.”

“Fine,” Ruby gives in. Not that either of them should be particularly surprised.

When she doesn’t move, Otis crawls closer to kiss her. He moves in fast, but the kiss is slow and leisurely, like they’re both a little drunk on the lazy atmosphere. There’s no rush. Nowhere else to be. No one to barge in and interrupt. Everything else dulls and disappears around them. Otis pulls away with a soft sound and brushes his nose against hers. Ruby keeps her eyes closed just a few heartbeats longer, reveling in it all. His kisses leave her feeling invincible, like nothing in the world could be brighter than them, what they have together, what they’re creating together.

“On one condition,” Ruby says. “Breakfast first. Who knows how long it’ll take you to learn.”

“I think I’m a very fast learner.” Otis kisses her again. “Don’t get up. I’ll bring breakfast to you.”

Otis scurries out of the room and Ruby turns over to hide her grin against his pillow that smells so much like his aftershave. It’s so hard to believe that this is her life. It’s hard to believe she enjoys and would want this life. She never thought she’d find herself so comfortable in a house other than her own, feeling wanted by someone who sees past her sharp words and deadly stares, at least not while still in high school. Otis took her by surprise and he continues to every day.

They spend the rest of the day in his room, listening to music and eating brioche French toast in his warm bed as the storm rages on outside. Otis has always been so eager to learn about people and random information, about her and not just her body. He stretches out on his belly to watch her turn his ragged shirt inside out, pin the seams and do a simple backstitch to one tear. She has Otis try to repair a rip down the other side and laughs when it takes him forever just to feed the ends of the thread through the needle. His hands are clumsy, but his eyes stay focused the entire time, tongue poking out at the corner of his mouth. It’s annoyingly cute and she’d probably lean over to steal a kiss every time that thought crosses her mind if there weren’t literal pins and needles between them.

Otis turns his shirt right side out and it’s almost like the tears were never there. Well, that’s generous. Her side could pass with flying colors while the seam Otis fixed is a little lumpy, but only if you really look for it. “I need some practice to get to your level.”

“Are you asking me to remove the seams of all of your ugly shirts so you can practice?” Ruby asks. “I can if you want. You can be so good with practice and if you mess them up, you can just throw them in the bin.”

“Tempting,” he says mockingly. “I think I’ll try it when necessary. I’m sure I’ll have a lot of things to fix without having to break them first.” With the empty breakfast plates set aside and all of the prickly sewing tools safety tucked into their pouch, Otis pulls her closer. “Thank you.”

Ruby sinks deeper into his embrace, happy to feel his warmth contrast with the cold nipping at the tip of her nose. “I was so busy, but I guess I could take the time out for you.”

“What would you like in return?” Otis asks, with hooded and darkened eyes.

She hums and slides a hand over his stomach, pushing his shirt up just a little. “I thought breakfast was the tradeoff?”

Otis bites his lip and totally thinks he’s being cute and it kind of works. “Maybe I’m feeling generous. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I wasn’t?”

Ruby pillows her head on his chest, her nails drawing idle patterns over his skin. “Can we just stay like this for a bit?”

She picks up on the suggestion in his voice, sees the want in his eyes, feels the intent in his touch, and as natural and routine as it feels to follow suit, and oh, she intends to, for some reason she’s enjoying the chaste closeness while they have the time for it. Otis just nods and huddles even closer, pressing the lightest of kisses to her hair. They cuddle long after the record player goes silent and the storm finally subsides.

***

It’s hard to say what hurts more: seeing Otis out in public with Maeve Wiley and he’s wearing his normal, faded color block jacket or seeing Otis wear the jacket Ruby made for him while out and about with another girl.

Fortunately, the latter doesn’t happen, but the former does. It happens a lot. Ruby reasons that the jacket she made him is a bit too sophisticated for everyday use. It does sting a little to imagine Otis opened her present and just didn’t care for it or didn’t think it was very him despite the thought she put into every inch of it, every stitch and button.

No one really knows if Otis and Maeve are really, finally, officially together. There are all kinds of rumors, the most disgusting and outlandish of which she thinks her friends might have started in their unique way of trying to support her.

One afternoon while Ruby guards the door so Anwar and Nick can have a private conversation in an empty classroom, she catches a glimpse of Otis and Maeve together. He reaches for Maeve’s hand and she swiftly evades contact. Ruby stares. No subtlety to be found. Otis’ steps falter and Maeve hugs one of her books to her chest looking rather apologetic. He stuffs his hands into his pockets instead and they continue on in the opposite direction of where Ruby’s posted.

Of course Maeve Wiley would be anti-PDA. It makes sense given the Cock Biter reputation and everything with Jackson being so public just to fizzle out for the rest of the school to feast on. Maeve puts up a front like she doesn’t care what people think of her, but a small part of her, the entirely human part that needs to stay guarded at all times, has to. As much as Ruby doesn’t like the disappointment and hurt that radiates off of Otis in waves, she pretends she never saw it.

Looking for a distraction more than anything, Ruby agrees to go on a date with the next boy who asks. It’s a dull affair and she stares at her phone the entire time, not even giving him an inch despite his increasingly desperate attempts to get her attention and mounting frustration. She would much rather be watching trash TV with Adam or listening to Olivia and Anwar bitch or brag about their boyfriends. She does nothing all night, but still feels exhausted by the time she gets home.

Ruby nearly stumbles in her heels when she finds Otis sitting out on the stone wall in front of her house. He’s staring out into the small wooded area on the other side of the street. If she knows him like she thinks she does, there are a million thoughts bouncing around the inside of his brain at lightning speed.

“Hi,” Ruby says, not even trying to keep the suspicion from her voice.

Otis nearly falls off the wall. “Ruby! Hi! You’re home!”

“I am. And why are you here, at my home?”

“Oh. I just…” Otis passes a hand through his hair. “I wanted to thank you for the gift you got me for my birthday.”

“And you couldn’t just text me?”

Otis frowns, shoving his hands even deeper into his pockets. “I thought about it, but it didn’t seem like enough. I was already out, riding my bike, and I wanted to do it in person.” Otis takes a short breath. “So, thank you, Ruby. The jacket’s really cool and expensive-looking.”

Ruby bites back a smile and glances at the front door lit by the porch light. She wonders if anyone has noticed the boy loitering outside of their house. She thinks to invite him in, not knowing how long he’s been out here in the cold, but she doesn’t want to have to explain to her parents either.

“You’re welcome,” she says. “Is that all…?”

“Oh. Um…” Otis shifts around anxiously. Like so many times before, she doesn’t know what to expect from him. “Can I ask you something?”

Ruby traces the inside of her cheek with her tongue, mentally debating. This doesn’t feel like a good idea and yet…

“Only because you look so pitiful.”

Otis shrugs out of his usual jacket and lays it down across the stone beside him for her to sit on. He waits until she’s as comfortably situated as she’ll get before finally asking, “Remember how you said…you said you love me…?”

Oh, this was a mistake. A big, mortifying mistake.

“What about it?” Ruby doesn’t even have to face him to know he’s silently beating himself up. Not that he’s entirely wrong to. “Otis, if you question whether I meant it or not again—”

“No, that’s not…” His dangling feet swing back and forth in her peripheral. “How do you know? That you love me? I’m not questioning if you love me, but how? How are you so sure?”

“Are you asking when I knew or like in general…?”

“As much as you’re willing to. Not that you owe me an answer or anything at all really.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Otis, but I don’t exactly open up to just anyone.”

“I might have noticed,” Otis says. Off the slight narrowing of her eyes, he nods. He still reads her so well. It’s still unnerving and still thrilling. “Okay, shutting up now. You, go ahead. Please.”

She fights back the urge to be amused by his frenetic way of talking when he’s nervous. She’s missed it (him) more than she even realized, which doesn’t even seem possible. “I don’t go out of my way to make an effort for people I couldn’t care less about, but when I do…”

“No, I noticed that too,” he whispers.

She thought after their last conversation, there was nothing left to talk about, but now, she realizes how wrong that was. “You made me feel...safe. Safe enough to be myself around you and…happy. I know I’m not very good at expressing that in words like you are—”

Otis laughs. “My mum would disagree.”

“But I wanted to show you. All the time once I realized. How can that be anything, but love?” Ruby stares at her own dangling feet. “I don’t think we can help who we’re attracted to. I learned that over our summer, but love feels more like a choice. I don’t need you, Otis. I know who I am and what I want apart from you, but if I had the choice, I think it could be even better with you, that’s all.”

“You make it seem so simple.” He sounds so miserable, but she tries not to read too much into it. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? You don’t have to apologize for not being in love with me. You could have lied so we’d keep having sex, but you’re better than that. Kinder. Not a lot of guys are.”

“Still, you deserved better from me,” Otis insists. She clenches a fist to stop from trying to reach for his hand. “I’m sorry for everything that came after, my reaction, how I behaved. Trying to act like nothing changed and suggesting we could go back to hanging out after the fact. I’m the one who suggested we be more than casual and I shouldn’t have led you on…”

“Yeah, that was shit of you,” Ruby agrees. “To be fair, there were times where I was a bit shit to you too.”

“But at least it felt like we were learning each other and how to be together. I…was afraid of how you’d react on occasion, but whenever I did talk to you about something I wasn’t comfortable with, you were willing to hear me out, like with keeping us a secret and the Magneto outfit—”

“Why do you keep saying that like it’s a bad thing? Isn’t Magneto cool and fit for an old guy?”

Otis rocks with laughter and his arm brushes hers. “There was a surprising amount of negotiation and finding a middle ground with us, unlike with…”

Ruby watches him out of the corner of her eye, wearing an outwardly neutral expression, but on the inside she’s freaking the fuck out. “Otis, you can’t…”

“Yeah, I know. That’s not fair.” He drops his head as if in shame. “I’m finding that the more I think I want ‘love’ the less I know anything about it. Maybe I saw too much of how ugly relationships can be when I was young and I told myself it wouldn’t be like that when I grew up just to…” He stares out at the darkness again. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this now…”

“How was your birthday, by the way?” she asks.

“Oh, um, quieter than my last party, for sure. We played charades.” The light from the porch illuminates his boyish grin. That’s exactly what she wanted to see when she asked. It still makes her feel to see his mood pick up even if only for an instance. “My mum’s book won some kind of award. There’s going to be a big, fancy party and I’m planning on wearing the jacket you got me.”

If they were still dating, she’d remind him of the hours she put into it, the number of times she accidentally pricked a finger or the thread jammed in her machine and she’d curse loud enough to wake Baby. She would never let him forget the blood and tears that went into its creation, a Ruby Matthews original, the first and last attempt at menswear she might ever make. In reality, she keeps it inside, unsure if she can take the hope his praise might stir within her.

“Paired with an ugly striped shirt, ugly pants and ugly shoes?” Ruby asks.

“Decent striped shirt, comfortable pants and my only pair of dressy shoes.”

“I learned not to expect too much fashion-wise from you.” She aims for playful and when she gets an exaggerated pout in return, Ruby smiles a bit inwardly as well as outwardly. “At least you’ll look somewhat appropriate for the occasion.”

“Better than if I hadn’t known you,” Otis says. She cannot look anywhere near him as the softness of his voice tears at her heartstrings. He must catch himself and quickly clears his throat. “So, uh, I heard you went out on a date tonight.”

“Who told you I was on a date?”

Otis glances at the front door. “I should’ve known when your car wasn’t here, but I still thought it polite to explain myself and your mum…implied as much. I asked if I could wait for you out here.”

“How is it anywhere near appropriate to ask your ex about her date? Do you ask Ola about her dates since you broke up?”

“No.” Otis furrows his entire face in disgust or maybe terror. “But I’m not sure I want to know what Ola and Lily consider date night activities. And hey, you used her name, not sister-ex.”

Ruby rolls her eyes and wants to point out that it’s more Adam’s influence than his. She also wants to ask why are you so concerned about me and not her? She does neither.

“There won’t be a second date, not with that guy,” Ruby says, combing her fingers through her hair. “Honestly, it was a complete waste of time, but I should have expected that going in.”

“Oh, well then, I don’t want waste any more of your time tonight.” Otis pushes off the rock wall and instinctively holds a hand out to her. Once he realizes what he’s done, probably out of muscle memory, he visibly falters. She takes his hand before he can fully panic and accepts his help. It’s just a polite gesture. And if he notices the way her hand lingers in his, she isn’t going to point it out and neither does he.

“Talking to you isn’t horrible,” Ruby decides.

“I’m glad.” Otis picks his bike up and throws a leg over it before looking back over at her and going still once again. “Ruby, I… Joy loves her dino-blanky. She can never fall asleep without it. I just thought you should know.”

“Good. I’m glad.” And when she smiles, it’s sincere and real. It always has been with him. “Goodnight, Otis.”

“Thank you, Rubes. For everything, not just tonight. I mean that, sincerely.”

“I know you do, Otis,” she says very quietly. Ruby turns and walks up the path leading to the front door, listening as Otis wheels his bike around and starts pedaling away in earnest.

Sometimes she catches herself thinking that maybe she can do this, if this is what it means to be friends with Otis. Maybe she could settle for Otis treating her like she’s the center of his universe but only long enough for a quiet conversation, that she could be content with having him in her life even if he isn’t hers. Then she walks into her house, the warmth of his proximity fades, and she’s struck with the thought that she’s alone when she doesn’t have to be, when she could be leading Otis in by the hand and they can tell her dad all about their date together, then steal one last kiss before he has to go.

“Did the boy finally leave?”

Ruby almost winces at the sight of her mum, hair spilling out of a loose bun, scrubbing the coffee table clean. She tries to take care of the household chores so when her mum is actually home she can relax and enjoy herself for once. Admittedly, Ruby’s been a bit distracted lately.

“Yes, mum. He left.”

“What did he want?”

“To talk.”

Her mum stops what she’s doing. “Does that mean you’re getting back together?”

“No. It just means we talked.”

“A good talk or a bad talk?”

“We just talked,” Ruby stresses. “It wasn’t good or bad.”

“But you still want to? Get back together with him.”

“Mum, I’m really tired.” Ruby hears her own whining, but she’s too emotionally spent to care. “If you don’t need me for anything, I’m going to bed. We can finish the interrogation in the morning.”

“It was still light out when he rang the bell, asking after you. I might not have been the most polite.”

“No,” Ruby says with mock shock. “You?”

“I had to give him a little bit of a hard time,” her mum says defensively. She’s absolutely where Ruby gets her sharp edges from. “And he looked like he knew he deserved it. But apparently he doesn’t scare easy.” Ruby almost smiles. As if she’d fall in love with someone who did. “He also brought birthday cake. It’s in the kitchen if you want.”

“Okay.” Ruby drags herself to her room and begins her very methodical decompression process, changing out of her clothes, removing her hoop earrings, makeup and press-on nails. She goes through the motions, her head occupied with too many thoughts, trying to remember every bit of their conversation and Otis’ every expression like there might be hidden meanings behind every facial tick and gesture. Knowing Otis, he doesn’t even realize how much his body language gives away.

Ruby follows the sounds of her dad’s snoring and catches a glimpse of her mum tucking a quilt nan made around her husband. He’s going to ask about her date tomorrow and Ruby already knows they’re going to spend more time talking about her conversation with Otis. She’s going to put that off for as long as she can.

She half expects the cake to have Aimee’s signature vaginas all over it. Instead, it’s just simple vanilla cake with very basic, decorative embellishments in blue, red and orange frosting. If she was put in charge of cake duty, she would have ordered a custom, cereal milk cake decorated in little fondant cutouts of his ugly striped shirts. Just imagining his dry yet amused reaction would be worth whatever the price tag.

Ruby swipes a finger across sickeningly sweet frosting and sucks it off her finger. She returns to her room and digs out the note where she wrote down Otis’ measurements. She actually did include the circumference of his head. He would look so ridiculous in an earflap hat and it doesn’t mean she has to actually give it to him this time. It’s just a new project to keep herself occupied. Even after she said the jacket would be the end of it, well, no one has ever accused Ruby of being honest, especially not to herself.

***

The next time she sees him, it’s at a party. It’s always a loud, sloppy party with them.

It happens more than a month after Ruby overhears Ola and Lily gossiping about Otis and Maeve’s failed attempt at a relationship. It’s just interesting, not something that inform her behavior at all. She refuses to drop everything and run to him the moment he might be available. Even Ruby isn’t that pathetic after all. She continues to live her life, focusing on her responsibilities to her family, school, hanging out with her friends and working on an adorable, sporty outfit that Madam can wear while Adam makes the poor thing traverse obstacles.

Olivia and Anwar peer pressure her into going to the party that night and not just because she’s the one with the car. It feels right to agree to go since they’ve gotten off her back about trying to find a new boyfriend after that awful time she had with what’s-his-name. It was so boring, he’s not even worth remembering. Choosing an outfit for the party and getting all dolled up makes her feel a little like she’s getting closer to full form Ruby Matthews, the version she’d like to be. It feels good.

She’s ready to leave ten minutes into the party. It’s around the fifteen minute mark that she sees Otis. Her first instinct is to act like she hasn’t seen him, but a few things make her double take. For one, he’s looking right at her, oblivious to the way Eric’s talking at him. Two, Maeve isn’t with him. Three, but really, it’s the first thing that caught her attention, he’s wearing the jacket she made for him. Her heart rate spikes, beating hard enough to be noticeable, and even when she tries to will herself to look away, look anywhere else, she can’t.

Otis wears the jacket even better than she pictured in her head. Like most things, upon closer inspection, it’s probably as imperfect as she remembers, but from afar, it fits and moves well as he makes his way over to her. The hopeless idea that giving Otis the jacket meant being rid of her feelings for him is proven just that—hopeless. Nothing the half-constructed hat pattern on her vanity hasn’t already proven.

“Why didn’t you tell me you made this jacket for me?” Otis asks, once he’s close enough to not have to shout over the music.

“Who said I did?”

Otis’ eyes drift to her side and when Ruby follows his gaze, she sees Anwar and Nick making a stealthy getaway. She looks around and Olivia’s nowhere to be found either, probably off somewhere with her boyfriend. Traitors.

“Did you know Anwar’s mum is pretty big in the publishing world?” Otis asks. She didn’t, but Otis doesn’t seem like he’s really expecting an answer. “They were at my mum’s party. Anwar sort of…told me.”

“He told you I made it?”

“Technically, I think he said something like ‘oh for fuck’s sake, I can’t believe she actually finished that and gave it to you.’ But I probably should have known. Maybe I had hoped before he confirmed it. I mean…” Otis opens the jacket to show off the inside lining. She had chosen a silky, maroon paisley that calls back to the “Magneto outfit” she once dressed him it. She figured it’d be fine because the outside is solid and dark, very young professional, while the more risky lining is hidden while worn and feels divine.

A laugh bursts out of her chest without warning. Otis watches her laugh. The room is particularly dark except for the cheap laser lights chasing each other around the walls, leaving their faces illuminated by primary colors for only seconds at a time. Ruby lets her eyes trail down his body, taking in the black shirt he’s wearing beneath it and pants she’d once told him were rosewood, a color between brown and orange. Her ability to decipher between shades of color was always lost on him, but he always seemed happy enough to listen to her talk about them.

“So?” Ruby asks. “Do you like it?”

“I do. I like it a lot.” Even as he talks, his eyes never leave hers. “It fits great and I feel comfortable in it. Thank you. No one’s ever made something like this for me before.” When he finally tears his eyes away from hers, it’s to gauge the room, before returning to her. “Do you maybe want to go for that walk now?” He glances down at her heels. “Or a drive? Unless you’ve been drinking. We could also just find somewhere quiet to talk.”

“Just a walk?” she asks, but that’s not all she’s asking.

Otis stares at the floor, sucking in his cheeks, before facing her again. “It’s whatever you want it to be, Ruby. I have no expectations. No pressure. I’ve been wanting to talk to you for some time now, but I needed to be sure about a few things before I bothered you with this again…”

Ruby can feel the nerves start to buzz beneath her skin, the beginning of a feeling she’s only ever had with him, still has with him. She reaches out and straightens the lapels of his jacket, resting her hands on his chest, and when he doesn’t move away, just holds her gaze, she gives into the feeling.

“A walk sounds nice,” Ruby says, feeling strangely, incredibly shy.

“Really?”

“Yes, Otis, really,” she snaps. “It’s just a fucking walk.”

Otis smiles, straightens with an excited little hop in his step and offers her his arm. In all the time they spent apart, he hasn’t lost that strange thing about him where from some angles he looks like an absolute child and others, almost unfairly attractive. She raises an eyebrow at his offering before rolling her eyes and walking ahead of him to the door. It’s been so long since she’s made him chase her. Once they’re outside, swallowed by the quiet of the night and she hears the clip-clop of his shoes against the pavement, Otis walking in that weird way he does behind her, it feels right. It feels good.

The walk only really takes them to a single swing set in the front yard of a house across the street. Otis stresses in mumbles, something about trespassing, but continues to follow her when Ruby reasons that the lights are all off in the house and the driveway’s empty. She sits on the swing because honestly her feet hurt.

“Are you cold? I—” Otis slips his jacket off and offers it to her before even hearing her answer. She slips her arms through the sleeves and it’s still warm from his body heat. “So, I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said, about love being a choice and a series of choices and not just something that happens and forces your life in a certain direction. And I’ve been thinking about why I chose to ride my bike to your house that day and how I chose to wear this jacket tonight.”

“And?”

“And I’d like to do things differently this time, if there’s a this time," he says. "If you want. If love is a series of choices, I’d choose to have you in my life again. I want us to be together again, if you’ll allow me to choose you. I think I did even before, but I was so preoccupied with what I thought love should be and what I should want that I let the best thing in my life get away.”

He’s saying so much of what she wished he would for so long and now that the moment has finally arrived, Ruby doesn’t know what to think or how to respond. “And this time will be different?”

“I’m…I’m not sure I’ve ever done anything right the first time in my entire life, but I'd like to try again. We can take things slow. Go on more traditional dates that don’t involve two other people this time. Whatever you want, however you want, whenever.”

“What if it’s not the same as before?” she asks.

He cocks his head to one side in thought. “Maybe different wasn’t the right word. I want to be better than before.”

Her heart absolutely skips, but just as she starts to speak, the lights in the house behind them snap on. Otis panics and grabs her hand as they run away. Ruby barely manages to hide her laughter and keeps holding his hand even once they’re safely back at her car.

She doesn’t give him an answer that night. They don’t get back together and kiss on the spot, but when they go their separate ways this time, it’s with the promise of a future together if she so chooses. Now that she’s settled into her feelings like a second skin and knows the intent behind Otis’ eyes and in his every deliberate, respectful touch, it’ll be different this time. Maybe better. They’ll give it time.

Once Ruby gets home, she smiles at a text from Otis already waiting on her phone, wanting to make sure that she got home safely. It already feels like it once did, but more somehow. Warm and wired, Ruby hums one of her favorite songs and sits down at her sewing machine. She can’t wait to finish this goofy hat and see it on Otis’ oddly-shaped head.