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Sleepovers are a lot more fun when you don’t need to worry about the end of the world. He can enjoy his family around him (minus Camila since she’s working the night shift), reminding himself that life is good while Luz gets hit by yet another red shell.
Spanish curses fly out of quick lips. “I’ll have my revenge yet, mano, just you wait!”
“Right,” Hunter drawls, “just like the revenge you’ll show me in that sparring match you still haven’t taken me up on?”
He watches with mirth as his sister sputters in response. “You, I-”
His Shy Guy zooms past her Mario at record speed, and the gang groan as the end of race trill blares through the speakers.
“Boom! First place again, ladies and gentlemen.” the cocky blond cheers. Before his sibling can cough out a reminder, he adds to correct, “And Vee. Vee sucks too.”
“Hey!”
Gus huffs as he puts his controller down. “I think I’m all kart-ed out, guys.”
“Me too,” Willow adds. “Let’s switch to Smash?”
Luz hits the home screen to exit the game. “Bros. Brawl or Ultimate?”
“We’re already on the Switch,” Amity says, “And we can fit more players in on Ultimate.”
Hunter’s nodding in agreement before he registers it. “Plus, the graphics are a lot better.”
Gus elbows his side. “You mean the girls are a lot prettier.”
Willow’s grimace distracts Hunter from his friend’s nudges, and he feels inclined to protest. “That’s not it at all.”
“Oh, please,” Luz calls, “we all see the way you look at Zero-Suit Samus!”
“That’s not it, I swear!” He rushes to explain, turning to his girlfriend in earnest. “You’re better than any video game character.”
The greenette’s frown breaks with a laugh meant to ease the tension more than to express humour. “That’s so sweet. Chill, Hunter, I know you like me. It’s not a crime to have a crush. It’s not like you’re going to leave me for her or anything.”
He grabs her hand. “But I don’t pick her because I have a have a crush. I just think she’s cool!”
“Not that you can’t think a girl is cool,” she replies, “but you look at her like you’re trying to engrain the pixels in your mind forever.”
He flushes red. “I don’t…I just…” For some reason, his breath speeds up. His hands shake where they’re holding the controller, and he puts it down to rub his palms against his jeans.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Amity’s quick to say. “We’re just teasing.”
Willow moves from sitting beside him on the couch to kneeling in front of him on the floor. She grabs both of his hands in hers while Gus starts counting to help ground him.
“No one’s upset,” he can hear around him. “You’re okay; no one’s mad.”
“I’m sorry,” the blond whispers. “I’m sorry, I promise I’ll be good-”
“You’re good, Hunter, you’re at a sleepover-”
“I don’t know how to explain it,” he starts.
“You don’t have to, it’s okay, take a deep breath.”
“I want to!” He swears.
“You can do that after you get your breathing in check.”
After minutes of grounding, he brings his hands up to wipe at wet cheeks. The low sound of the battle game’s menu music is barely audible over his harsh exhales.
“I,” his voice cracks, “I don’t know what that was.”
The others look to each other in a poor game of chicken. Luz breaks it first. “A panic attack?”
He huffs out an attempt at a laugh. “I just…I don’t like Samus like that.” He looks up at his friends. “I don’t want you guys to think I like her like that.”
The collective nods in response let him sigh in relief. “I think I’ll go prep dinner,” he stands. “You guys can game without me.”
He walks to the kitchen before anyone can respond, but he hears Gus from behind. “Sorry, dude. We didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m fine!” he calls back. “Just need a breather. You’re free to help me get the food ready if you want to make up for it.”
The response he gets back is a lot lighter. “I’ll pass!”
Vee takes him up on the offer, though, and he can enjoy the silent comfort of his friend-slash-sibling chopping next to him as the running water works as white noise in the background. He can appreciate that the basilisk doesn’t bring up what just happened, rather letting him clear his mind to the rhythmic hit of peeler on carrot. That is, until, a new conversation starts out of nowhere.
“Hey, Hunter,” they start, “I’ve been meaning to check- how do you identify?”
Hunter glances towards them as he passes the tomato. “Well, I used to be ‘Golden Guard,’ but now I’m just Hunter, I guess? Or probably ‘Apprentice Carpenter,’ if you want to get technical, but Dell isn’t so specific with titles. Why do you ask?”
The look his sibling gives him is one he’s not unfamiliar with. It’s the one that says, ‘I can’t tell if you’re being purposefully obtuse to avoid answering or if you actually need clarification.’ In hindsight, his confusion is embarrassing. Normally, the context would’ve cued him in.
“No, I mean, what’re your pronouns and stuff? You respond to he/him, but we never really asked if you’d prefer something else.”
Preference. He’s still getting used to that. Getting to choose what to eat instead of hurriedly grabbing whatever rations are available. Having a favourite shirt instead of the dual-tone uniforms. Picking scroll lockscreens from a camera roll filled with photos he took himself. Preference. Choices. Options.
Freedom. How novel. It’s how he rationalises his delayed response to himself.
“I’ve…never really thought about it,” He admits, “but I’ll respond to whatever. I don’t care.”
Vee hums in response. “Well, if you ever change your mind, let me know.”
“Will do.”
He doesn’t know when he begins to stray. He’d only ever used the smartphone his mamá gave him for staying in contact with his family, but now he’s downloaded an app he hides behind a password locked device.
He’s hiding Instagram.
He uses a fake account with no ties to him. An anonymous profile, to keep his shame unknown to those who would be so disappointed in him.
He uses the account to follow girls. Beauty influencers, gamers. Sometimes, he follows cosplayers who dress as Tsukuyo from Gintama. Ms. Vitch from Assassination Classroom. He has a folder specifically for Zero-Suit Samus cosplayers.
They’re all blonde with pale skin. Tall. Lanky- no, skinny. If he’s lucky, they have SFX scars on their face, too.
There’s something wrong with him.
He stays up at night, his dark bedroom only exposed with the dimmed phone light. He spends hours swiping through their profiles and faces the consequences of his actions when the rising sun hits bagged eyes the morning after. He can’t bring himself to stop, though. It’s an obsession.
There’s one girl that sticks in his mind. He can’t see her clearly -he doesn’t even know where he came across her- but he knows how she looks when he closes his eyes. She’s amazing. Blonde. Tall. Skinny. Chunky bracelets decorate her wrists, covering her scars. Her lips are tinted to leave spots of pink where she presses against her lover’s cheeks. Her eyes crinkle when she smiles a toothy grin, eyeliner perfect. She’s beautiful. She’s happy. He thinks he loves her. He can’t stop thinking about her. He looks for her in every girl he sees.
His intentions are pure, but they feel dirty. He knows his type is only one greenette Flyer Derby captain. The most beautiful witch in any Realm, the light at the end of every tunnel. She’s gorgeous. She’s intelligent. She’s strong. She’s funny. She’s all he could ever want in a girlfriend, the girl of his dreams, and yet…
And yet he still hasn’t deleted the app, months later.
He just wants to find the girl in his dreams.
His greed gets him caught.
Of course, it happens at yet another sleepover. This time, it’s at the Owl House. Eda and Raine are upstairs tucking King into bed while the group watches a romantic comedy. Everyone else is wide awake, but Hunter can’t help but lean on his captain’s shoulder as his eyes fight the sleep debt he’s collected. All is quiet, until Luz realises she lost her phone.
“Hey, Hunter, can you ring my cell?”
Hunter hums, dazedly unlocking his phone and passing it to his sister. “You can keep calling it until you find it.”
“Thanks!”
If he was more awake, he’d have realise what app was open when he passed her the phone.
If he was more awake, he’d have seen the look of surprise on his sister’s face.
She couldn’t have known what he was hiding, he couldn’t blame her for her shocked laugh as she cracked open his secret sin-
“You have Instagram?!” Luz heckled. “Why didn't you tell me? I’d totally follow you!”
All intents to sleep vanished in an instant as he jumped up. “No, I don’t-”
“You do,” she crowed, and Vee gets up from their spot on the floor to grab the phone too.
“Aww, Hunter, let’s follow you and help your influencer dreams be fulfilled!”
Gus, Willow, and Amity know the Human Realm enough to know what Instagram is, and voice their support of him because that’s the kind of good people that they are. They don’t know, they don’t know.
He couldn’t blame his siblings, because being a sibling means light teasing and boundary pressing. They don’t mean to hurt him, don’t mean to push, and yet the shadow of revulsion that covers their faces is clear when they realise what they’ve uncovered.
They’ve found his following list.
“Hunter, what-”
“It’s nothing,” he hisses.
But Luz is impulsive. Her quick decision-making does wonders on the battlefield. Less so in friendships. She dodges his attempts to snatch the phone back from her.
Willow is the one who makes him pause.
“Why are you following all these girls?”
Her words are like steel chains forcing him in his place as they all look through his phone, all but him as he fears what they see. Willow has the phone in her hands now. She keeps swiping, one profile to the next.
Blonde, tall, skinny. Blonde, tall, skinny. Blonde, tall, skinny.
He knows what it looks like.
His friends look uncomfortable. He’s sure that his face is at least three shades lighter than normal, if his shaky, clammy hands are anything to go by.
Gus is shifting, taking awkward glances at him between Willow’s sharp swipes. Amity’s glaring daggers, contrasting Luz’s confused but disappointed looks. Vee’s look is indiscernible, like they expected this.
Willow’s expression is one of an executioner.
“If this was your type, you could have saved us the trouble.”
Her words are as damning as a judge’s sentence.
“That’s not my type.”
“You didn’t have to lie to us before. To lie to me.”
The pressure builds in his chest.
“Willow, I-”
“If you had just been honest,” she pressed, “then this would have been okay. Not the account, but having a type. If you didn’t keep it a secret, I’d still know you like me. I’d still know you’re loyal.”
And that was a dagger to the heart.
“I am loyal. To you, Willow, I’m loyal to y-”
“Is there another girl?”
Her voice, cold as snow, carries despite her whisper. The rest of his friends are all silent around her, by her side like a jury.
He can barely get the words out as he chokes. “There isn’t.”
She’s never looked at him like this, not since the day they met when he betrayed her and- “I wish I could believe you, Hunter.”
He steps towards her, voice rising in panic. “There’s no one else.”
“Is she one of these girls?”
“Willow, no.”
“You aren’t even following her?” and her voice has raised too. There are steps from behind, and he knows that Eda and Raine have come down to check on the noise. “Is she a witch, then?”
“She isn’t-”
“So, there is a ‘she’!”
“I don’t know who she is!”
The echo of his scream hits all four walls of the room. His kneels hit the floor hard as he drops with a harsh sob. “I’m loyal, I swear, please, I swear, I don’t know her, she isn’t real, I don’t know, I’m loyal, please, I didn’t mean it, I don’t know her, I’m loyal to you and the titans alone, Uncle, I swear-”
He’s crying, his hands are tearing at his hair. This time, his girlfriend -are they still together? Is this the end?- doesn’t come to alleviate the pain. His friends stand and watch, uneasy. If he looked up, he’d see the disgust on their face. The hatred. He’s a monster.
It’s his pseudo-parents who come to his aid.
Raine crouches at his side while Eda checks with the others.
“Let’s all calm down, now, guys,” she tries to throw them a smile. “I’m sure that, whatever Goldie did, there’s a rational explanation.”
Hunter finds out later that Willow’s response was to leave the house.
It takes a few hours, though, because he’s too busy forgetting how to breathe.
Time passes, or it doesn’t. He doesn’t know when his eyes closed, but Hunter opens his eyes to the gentle hum of Raine’s tune as they run their fingers through his hair. They smile as Hunter cracks his eyes open, but he can see that its half-hearted at best.
“How’re you feeling?” They ask.
Hunter leans upward with his elbows as he tries to look around. “Like I’m going to throw up. Where are the others?”
His parent winces. “They’re…worried about you.”
“Can I see them?”
“You need to rest. Everyone’s safe. Your siblings are downstairs with Eda,” Raine promises. The deflection is clear as day.
The weight of the earlier scene is heavy on Hunter’s mind. “They don’t want to see me,” he states.
Another wince. Bingo. “Your friends went outside to calm down. They need some space.”
He sighs. “I know I messed up.”
And he did, didn’t he? This obsession with…with her. It’s gotten out of hand. He needs help. He needs to be fixed.
It takes him a while to choke out the words, Raine watching his plight throughout. “I have a problem, Raine.” He can’t hold back the tears as he confesses. “I don’t know how to fix it.”
He’s grateful to Raine’s open arms as he falls into them, unsure whether the hold is out of mercy or ignorance to his crime. Just when he thought he ran out of tears, he starts to cry again.
“Hey, hey,” they shush him. “You’re okay. Everything’s okay.”
“It isn’t,” he wails, “I keep thinking about her!”
“About who? Willow?”
“About the girl!” he bursts. Even that answer fills him with shame. He should be thinking about Willow, yet here he is: selfishly plagued by another. He has to confess, has to let it out so they understand. “She’s- tall, and she has long, blonde hair. And even though she has scars like mine, just like mine, yet she looks so pretty, Raine. She wears dresses and skirts, and she’s happy and she’s beautiful and I can’t stop thinking about her.”
He looks up at Raine, who’s staring back at him with a look of dawning understanding. Good, they know what he’s done, maybe they can help him fix-
“Do you see here calling herself a Noceda?”
Raine’s gentle voice cuts through his thoughts. Everything stops, for a moment, while the words enter his ears.
“What?”
Raine slowly brings their hands to cup Hunter’s cheeks as their eyes meet. “The girl you keep thinking about. Is she a Noceda?”
His eyes widen as he contemplates the question. He imagines the girl introducing herself and…yes, yes she is. He imagines her saying, ‘Please, Miss Noceda is my mamá,’ with a laugh like a bell’s jingle, and he knows it to be true. He nods, cheeks still in his parent’s hands.
“Does she like to sew? To play Flyer Derby with her girlfriend? To exchange books with her aunt?”
Yes, yes, she does. He can see her embracing every activity like a fresh start.
“What else does she like? Playing army with King? Going shopping with Darius? Practicing music with me? Does she like those things, too?”
She loves doing all those things. She loves being with her family. She loves being happy.
"Does she share accessories with her siblings? Do they call her hermana? Does her mom braid her hair?"
His heart is in his throat. A picture perfect person, the girl he keeps thinking of. How does Raine know her so well, when he doesn’t even know her name?
“Oh, baby…” Raine holds the younger close clutches blond hair like its precious. “It’ll be okay. I’m sorry you had to figure this out all by yourself.”
Pause.
Hunter pushes away to look at Raine, confused. Through hiccups, the question comes out. “Figure what out?”
Raine’s mouth drops open, just a little. “That…you’re transgender?” They tilt their head to the side, confused. “I’m sorry, hun, did I misunderstand?”
Wait.
Transgender?
He- no, she digests this discovery.
“I’m…transgender?” she asks.
“I, uh-” Raine stutters, “Are you?”
A bulb lights up, somewhere deep inside the heart of a young girl.
”I’m transgender.”
Her laugh isn’t bell-like, moreso loud and concerningly hysterical. “I’m transgender!” Surely, it can’t be as simple as that? She runs her hands through her hair, self-soothing as thoughts run through her head a mile a minute.
She can identify -hah- the fresh tears falling as from relief rather than grief. “Raine, I’m transgender!”
Is it that simple?
She repeats it twice more, solidifying it to herself more than her parent. She holds them tightly in a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Raine chuckles, but is clearly confused. “You’re…welcome? But wasn’t that what you were trying to tell me?”
She blinks at Raine. “I thought I was cheating on Willow. This is the best news ever!”
The facial contortion she gets in response would have been funny had she not been hit by a new realisation. “Wait, Willow! I need to talk to her-”
Her attempt to get out of bed fails. “Hold your horses, lovergirl.” Lovergirl, she gets to be lovergirl- “Can I just make sure that I get a pronoun check first?”
Hunter can barely comprehend what’s being asked of her. “Uh…”
She gets a smile for her troubles. “Should I use she/her for you from now on?”
And those were music to her ears. She rubbed her arms to alleviate the chills as she nodded eagerly. She…her…She knows who the girl is. It’s her! She’s been looking for herself all this time?!
“And do you still go by ‘Hunter,’ or do you want me to call you something else?”
A name change never crossed her mind, before. “Can I…can I stick with ‘Hunter’ for now?”
“Of course you can, baby.”
She gives a toothy grin in response. “Can I go tell the others now?”
“About that…”
Raine helps her write a long, comprehensive text message explaining everything. Raine says she doesn’t have to explain it all, but she wants to. She wants her friends to know that she didn’t mean any harm, that she loves them, that she just needed to figure herself out.
From the comfort of her parent’s hold, she takes a deep breath and hits send.
Will they forgive her? Will they understand? They aren’t bigots, but she screwed up, and maybe they won’t believe that she wasn’t trying to cheat. Maybe they’ve already blocked her-
Her clouded thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.
She can’t bring herself to speak, throat locked shut. She gestures to the door and holds a thumb up, so Raine calls out, “Get in here!”
Her siblings crash through the door, Eda not far behind as they fall onto the bed and into a crushing embrace.
Luz and Vee are buzzing with affection, spouting support and apologies over and over.
“-we didn’t want to assume, and you were being so shifty- not that it’s your fault, we should’ve trusted you more. We love you so much-”
And Eda, the best Owl Mom ever, helps her get some air. “Give blondie some space, guys. She looks like she’s about to keel over.”
Luz opens her mouth to protest, but a door opening downstairs interrupts.
The others are back.
Hunter’s heart thunders in her ears as feet step up the stairs. Shadows from the hall are exposed by the open door, and she has to swallow the lump in her throat thrice before she calls out. “Come in.”
The clammy sensation returns to her palms as her friends step into view. Unlike Luz and Vee, who were spouting encouragement before they even crossed the threshold, Willow, Gus, and Amity are silent. Amity fiddles with her thumbs. Gus bites his bottom lip. Willow’s eyes are red.
It was at that moment that Hunter realised that they aren’t angry; they feel guilty.
She can extend an olive branch, for them. They’d done it for her so many times, after all.
“So, uh, turns out I wanted to be Samus.”
Her friends look at her in disbelief, and the absurdity of it all is comical. She laughs, hard, and the others follow suit. Amity is clutching her side, Gus can barely breath, Luz is snorting and Willow-
Willow’s grabbing her face and kissing her.
“I’m sorry, Hunter,” she says, eyes staring into her soul.
“I forgive you,” because she was never angry in the first place. “Girlfriends?”
“Girlfriends.”