Archive of Our Own

Suzie Ackerman had a very very bad day.

Maybe more than day. Felt like a bad week. Month. Life. 

Victor was supposed to be her forever. They had plans. They lived together. They had a dog.

And he had another girlfriend. Go figure. 

She had gotten used to the nights alone. One month since she’d moved out, and she tried to convince herself it was better that way. But tonight? She couldn't just sit in her apartment alone, pretending to be okay. 

“Suzie, I wanted you to hear it from me and not Instagram.”

She'd felt sick all day. Couldn't eat. Just stared at her chicken caesar salad like it was the one that abandoned her and left her for their younger, hipper, receptionist. 

Pulling her coat tighter around her chest, she jogged across the street to the bar she often passed by but never went into. She never felt cool enough, plus, she was pretty sure it was a queer bar, and didn't know if she counted as bisexual since she hadn't actually dated any women. 

The local art-school crowd that always hung around the area milled outside the bar, smoking, laughing, talking about classes and projects due that week. She'd often watch them enjoy their nights outside her living room window, sometimes pulling it open to hear the chatter, the laughter, the happiness. It was an experience of youth that she envied. Reminded her of how much time had passed hiding from her mom and waiting for Victor to propose. Wasted time, that got her nowhere. 

Suzie opened the bar’s door, the quiet city evening being shut behind, now drowned out by conversations with strangers and music she hadn't ever heard. Everyone was with someone here. But she was alone. And old. God, she was so much older than everyone here, wasn't she? 

Maybe this was a mistake. 

“Feel free to sit,” the bartender said, hand outstretched to an empty barstool. 

Suzie cautiously sat. The person behind the bar was tall, muscular, with a sharp, angular face that was undercut by soft eyes and a kind smile. 

“You're new here,” they said.

“Oh-uh, yeah I uh, I moved into the apartments across the street last month, I uh, I haven't been in yet. It's really nice here though, I like the atmosphere.”

The bartender kept their smile up, pointing to her in recognition. “Suzie Ackerman.”

Her face flushed red. How did they know her full name? Hopefully it wasn't from that time she was on the news because that horse threw her in the lake. Or that other time when she fell over on stage at her graduation and it went viral online. Now that she thought about it, there were a shocking amount of clips out there of her completely eating shit. No wonder Victor left. 

“You have a billboard in the city.”

She cringed. That was somehow worse than the lake video. 

“Right. Yeah. The billboard. My boss forced- gave me the opportunity to be on it.”

The bartender laughed. “I'm Riley, by the way. I own this bar.”

“Nice to meet you, Riley.”

“You too. Now, what can I get for you, Suzie?”

“Uhhh a Cosmo, honestly, would be great, if that's not too much trouble, uh, thank you.” She forced a smile. 

Riley threw a rag over their shoulder, as though they were in an old movie. Neon lights illuminated them as they shook her drink, the chains attached to their leather pants making slight clinking noises that somehow blended seamlessly with the music. There was an aura of coolness about them, but not in a way that felt intimidating. Suzie could see why this place was popular, especially among the art crowd, simply from how welcoming the owner was. 

A pink drink with extra cherries slid across the bar, landing directly in front of her. Her mouth watered - this was the only thing today that actually looked appetizing. 

Take it slow, Suzie thought, you can't get hammered when you're not here with anyone to take you home. 

After one sip of the sweet drink, she stared down into the glass, chomping on a cherry, listening to the conversations of the people around her. Art school certainly had more homework than she imagined…

“You good?” Riley asked, appearing in front of her, breaking her from her trance. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah, great.”

“I don't believe you,” they stated plainly. 

“I'm not going to burden you with my problems, I'm honestly probably overreacting about all of it-”

“Hey, I'm a bartender. It's part of my job description to listen to the woes of my patrons."

Suzie sighed. “It's… stupid. This guy I used to date is engaged.”

This stupid dumb tall handsome guy I loved and would have given my life for.

“How long did you date?”

“... Five years.”

“Long time.”

“Yeah… long time.”

Riley continued to stand there expectantly, looming over Suzie, who had begun to take bigger sips of her drink. 

“He cheated. With her. The girl he proposed to.”

Riley nodded, as though they already knew.  

Suzie could feel her rage burning in her throat along with the vodka. “And they're engaged! Engaged. Mr. ‘Why can't we just live in the now’ suddenly ready to commit. The bastard.”

The sips of her drink turned into gulps, until the martini glass was empty. Her lips loosened, her anger growing. “Who comes to the office of the woman they dated for five years, refused to commit to, and cheated on just to tell them they're proposing to someone else. Who does that?”

“He came to your office?”

“We work in an open concept space. Everyone saw him tell me. And you know what I did?”

“Kicked him in the dick?”

“Congratulated him.”.

“Yikes.”

“Yeah…”

She chewed the last remaining cherry, wishing she had more drink to chug, but also regretting spilling her guts to this stranger. It wasn't very ladylike of her to talk about this stuff in public. 

“That’s a lot… you want a shot of something?” Riley asked. 

“A bullet from a gun, maybe?”

Riley smiled. “You know you're the second person to make that joke to me today?”

Suzie chuckled, “Hey, hey, must be a kindred spirit. They still here?”

“Yep, kid right behind you.”

She turned her head to see a tall skinny young man, slightly tanned skin, chatting with a group of people his age. The most noticeable thing about him was his long dark hair, complete with bangs that covered his eyes. 

“Gotta say, I didn't expect my kindred spirit to have emo hair.”

“Kindred spirits tend to be that way.” Riley set down a shot glass full of a red liquid in front of Suzie, who downed it without another thought. It tasted like cinnamon and gasoline, and the burn was welcomed. 

“On the house, by the way.”

“Thanks, Riley.”

“Anytime. And hey, open mic night starts in a couple minutes so you came here on a good night."

“Ooh, that sounds-”

“Riles, can you grab me another?”

Suzie turned to her left to see who rudely interrupted her - only to be pleasantly surprised to see her kindred spirit up close. He smelled like Irish Springs soap and cigarettes. 

But not in the way like he smoked the cigarettes. More like he hung around people who smoked them - maybe held one to pretend he was cool - but couldn't stand the taste or the fuzzy feeling they leave on your tongue. 

“I recognize you,” she said before she could stop herself. 

He turned to look at her. Or at least, she thought he did. She couldn't see his eyes. 

“Bus!” She exclaimed, the cinnamon gasoline shot already going to her head. 

Yes, her kindred spirit was Emo Bus Guy, who always wore headphones and sat in the very back. He got off one stop before her. Worked at the post office, she assumed. 

“Are you talking to me?” Emo Boy said, grabbing the beer Riley had just uncapped for him. 

Wow, that was not what she expected his voice to sound like. At all. 

“You sound like a grown man.”

“Because… I am one.”

“I thought you were like, seventeen.”

He seemed genuinely offended by this. “I'm twenty-two.”

“Eh, same diff.” 

“Same diff? Are you forty?”

“I'm thirty.”

“Same diff."

He walked back to his table.

That went well. 

Riley had gone up to announce the first act. a young woman reading poetry. Suzie drank her second cosmo as she watched act after act, feeling increasingly more lame against every hip, tattooed performer. Her bright white skin practically glowed in the light, her baby blue shirt loosely hanging over her skinny jeans that had no rips, tears, or embellishments.

A third Cosmo helped dull the embarrassment, but she could also feel it lowering her inhibitions, which probably wasn't ideal. She had already told a lot of things to Riley they didn't need to know, and the last thing she needed was-

“Could I just get a Sprite?” She heard a familiar deep voice ask Riley. 

“Heyyyyy Kindred Spirit! You're back!” Luckily she was not drunk enough to follow her initial instinct to hug him. 

“Kindred Spirit?”

“We made the same joke. Both having a bad day.” She could feel too much information bubbling in her throat, coming out like word vomit. “My ex-boyfriend who I thought I would marry is engaged to the woman he cheated with - she has pierced nipples. What's your bad day?”

He looked at her with confusion… and a hint of amusement, perhaps?

“I, uhh, that's private.”

“C'mon, you can tell me…" She waved her hand, expecting his name. 

“Leeroy.” 

“Lee-roy. Lee. Roy. Leeroy.”

She pushed her drink away from her. “I should stop. I might be drunk.”

“Might be?”

“Okay yes I am definitely drunk. But that's fine. Right?”

He chuckled. It was nice to see him smile. His eyes sparkled, and he had little wrinkles on the side that made him seem… wise. She got the feeling that he didn't often show joy on his face, especially around strangers. It gave her a spark of warmth in her chest that he shared that with her. 

“I like your laugh,” she said dreamily.

He didn't reply, just grabbed his Sprite and basically ran back to his table. One of his friends began reciting Shakespeare on stage, and he turned his body fully to watch, making sure Suzie was nowhere in his eyeline. 

“What's his problem?” Suzie slurred to Riley. 

Riley laughed. “He doesn't like strangers.”

“I'm not a stranger. I'm his kindred spirit. We take the same bus. Do you know him well?”

They nodded. “He's a regular.”

“Ohhhhhhh,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “He's gay.”

“I shouldn't have given you that third Cosmo.”

“Hey, it's great to be gay. I slept with two girls in college… It was fun. Then I fell for stupid Victor. He's stupid.”

“I'm pretty sure he's aro/ace.”

“Victor? No. He's a dog. He's straight. He told me bisexuality was a myth. I was like biiiitch I do what I want! Except I didn't say that, I actually just laughed and told him he was probably right. I'm part of the problem, really.”

“I was talking about Leeroy, and Suzie, you're okay, everyone is welcome here, including the straights.”

“Do you think I'm homophobic?”

A glass of water appeared in front of her. “I don't. Now drink some water.”

Suzie nodded. Her brain felt mushy. It was probably a mistake to drink this much without food in her system. 

Two more acts performed, and she couldn't tell if they were incredible, or if she was hammered, but either way, she was engrossed. Everyone here was so free and talented and she was so stuffy and boring and single and alone. 

“Another Sprite please.”

“Leeroy! You're back!”

“Did you… get drunker? Riley, you still serving her?”

“I think the apple pie shot was a mistake,” Riley laughed, grabbing his glass and filling it with Sprite. 

“It was goooooood.”

“She didn't drive here right?”

“No!” She said, slapping him on the shoulder harder than intended. “I live across the street. Are you performing something on stage Mr Emo Leeroy?” 

“Absolutely not.”

“Your friends did. They're good. Hey!” She turned to face the table Leeroy had sat at. “Person with the blue streak! You crushed it!” 

They smiled at her. Everyone could tell she was drunk, couldn't they? 

“I'm not the type.”

“I bet you're deep. Like the ocean. Whoosh.”

Whoosh?

“Don't let her drink anymore, Riles.”

He went back to his seat, and another girl from his table appeared to be getting ready to perform. 

She read a poem. It was about feeling lost in the dark of life and looking for the light.

Suzie thought Victor was her light. He was one of the first people to encourage her to get the hell away from her mom. Moved her out. They sat on their couch that first night together, eating Chinese food, watching Jeopardy, and he told her he loved her. It was like a movie. 

Then as the years went on, he got distant. He didn't laugh at her stories about work, didn't ask her about her day anymore. The light burned out. And now she had to find her way by herself, no flashlight, just feeling her way around with her hands, blind, hoping she wouldn't get hurt. 

She clapped at the end of the poem, wiped a tear from her eye, and contemplated writing poetry about how much she hated everything in the world right now. 

With a small turn of her head, she watched the poet go back to her table. Leeory was clapping for his friend, a girl next to him draping her arm over his shoulder. He turned and saw Suzie looking. 

She waved. He chuckled. 

He really did have a nice smile. 

--

Leeroy should have left already. All his friends had performed, they had said their good nights, needing to get to bed to prepare for work the next day. He had to work too… but he decided to stay at the bar. 

It had been a bad day. His roommate informed him that he'd be moving out at the end of the month, headed to Germany on the fellowship he got accepted into. 

Leeroy was happy for his friend, sure, but it also meant he had to scramble to find a new roommate - one he could stand - ASAP or he'd be out on the street again. He had just gotten comfortable. What a mistake. 

But at least his life wasn't the only one going a little awry. 

“Can I get another beer, Riley?”

“Leeeeroyyyy,” the still drunk redhead at the bar sang, “You're still here! Your friends left. I thought you left too. I got a little sad. Thought you didn't say goodbye.”

It annoyed him that he felt so drawn to her. Her energy was different from what he was used to - and not necessarily in a good way. He didn't love the kind of overly peppy sorority girl cheerleader types. But she wasn't fully that. There was something broken in her. He could sense it. It was something that was broken in him too. 

“It's been a long day,” he answered, feigning disinterest. “I just… wanted to chill a little longer.”

“Sit with me, Leeroy.”

She didn't give him a chance to decide, pushing his shoulders down so he'd sit in the barstool next to her. For someone as wasted as she was, she was shockingly strong. 

“How did you get another drink?” 

She looked down to the empty glass, then back up to him. “I don't remember.”

Her eyes were glossy, a drunken flush to her cheeks, contrasting against her porcelain skin. The wavy red hair that had started the night pinned half back was now messily falling in her face. She continuously blew strands away from her eyes instead of re-pinning it. 

Suzie Ackerman. He saw that weird billboard fifty times a day. When she walked into the bar, he almost thought he'd lost his mind. He knew she was a real person, a realtor in the area, but it was so odd to… see her in 3D. 

His skin tingled where she touched him. Like his brain was still processing that she was a real human and not some sort of AI creation.

“You're looking at me weird,” she said, blowing more strands of hair from her face. 

“I just realized who you are.” That was a lie, but he wasn't sure what else to say. “Suzie the realtor.”

“Uggghhh of course. The fucking billboard. Did you not recognize me on the bus?”

He shrugged, “To be fair I don't look at anyone on the bus.”

“Because your hair covers your eyes?”

“It's by design.”

“It looks kind of silly.”

“All my friends say it looks cool.”

“Yeah yeah, I'm just saying. You can keep the vibe of this androgynous emo whatever without it looking like you're growing out a mullet.”

He laughed in offense. “So are you that pale by choice or are you an actual vampire from the Twilight novels?”

“Jokes on you, I'd love to be a Twilight vampire.”

“I should have guessed that since you're forty.”

“THIRTY. And flirty and thriving. Except neither of those things because Victor is a piece of shit…” She trailed off, then perked up. “Leeroy! Do you have a sweetheart?”

“No interest.”

“Good for you. Love is a scam. Men are a scam. Victor and his girlfriend with the bleach blonde hair and the lower back tattoo - who has a lower back tattoo in this day and age?”

She stood up abruptly, causing Leeroy to flinch. “I'm going to go to the bathroom. But you need to stay here because otherwise you'll be lonely.” 

She pointed to him. Then his barstool. Then stumbled off to the bathroom. He watched her attempt to stand upright, clearly trying to look sober, and failing badly. A chuckle escaped him before he saw that he was being watched. 

Riley squinted at him, taking the empty beer bottle back. “What’s up with you?”

He shrugged. “Shitty day.”

“No, I mean, why do you keep coming over here? You've had six different drinks over the course of two hours.”

“I'm thirsty.”

Riley crossed their arms, sizing him up. Why were they being so weird? 

“What?” He asked, more forcefully. 

“If I didn't know you better I'd say you have a crush on our little realtor friend here.”

A crush? Were they being serious? 

He didn't get crushes. If he could, he would have had a much easier time as a teenager. All the other people his age were hooking up, making out, and he couldn't even decide if he liked any of that. All he wanted was to fit in. To be “normal”.

It took a long time, but now, he had his group, he knew himself, and he could admit that romance, sex, none of that really appealed to him. He loved music, photography, and his friends, and that was all he needed. 

He definitely didn't want this drunk former prom queen in any way other than to watch for entertainment. 

“I know nothing about this woman besides that weird billboard I see twenty times a day. And c'mon, seeing the billboard lady drunk and spilling all her secrets is pretty funny.”

“That billboard is weird. Zoomed right into her smiling face. Very Stepford Wives.”

Suzie had stumbled back to the barstool. “Are you talking about my creepy billboard?”

“Yep,” Leeroy said, chuckling as she struggled to sit on the stool without falling over. 

“I haaateee that thing. But if I didn't do it, I wouldn't have gotten my promotion. And they zoomed in so close to my face! With my full name! Like heyyy everyone look at this pathetic realtor lady next to the dumbest slogan in history.”

Riley nodded. “That slogan is really fucking dumb.”

“Find a home that feels like home. Suzie Ackerman can help! Like I'm a fucking AI or something. You know someone came into the office last week and was scared of me because they thought I was a robot. They even poked me and said I ‘look so life-like’...I kinda wish I was a robot though. That'd be cool.”

Leeroy stifled a laugh and turned to Riley, “Don't act like this isn't at least kind of entertaining.”

Riley shrugged, with a hint of humor in their eyes that showed they reluctantly agreed.

“Leeroy,” Suzie said with a sudden urgency, putting her hands on his shoulders, “You have life ahead of you. You should live it. Look at all those sexy people that were supporting you. You should go for whatever you want to go for in life. Don't be on a billboard if you know the concept is creepy but you can't talk down to your boss and you want to get promoted so you do it anyway and it haunts you.”

He laughed, not understanding what he was feeling when she shook him gently, her fingers digging into his shoulders. 

“Hey, how did you get another drink?” Riley said, noticing the empty glass in front of Suzie. 

She looked up at them with wide eyes, “I don't know. But I drank it.”

“Okay, maybe we need to get you home. You said you live at the Penbrook, right? I can probably walk you back in a half hour or so.”

“Yesssss but I'm fineeee I can walk back myself. I'm not even that drunk.”

Suzie stood up again, not wobbling. "See? Finearooni.”

“I'll walk her home,” Leeroy said to Riley. 

Riley squinted their eyes again. “I don't know if I feel comfortable sending a clearly very drunk woman home with a stranger.”

Suzie had stumbled closer to Leeroy, messing with his hair, pulling it away from his eyes. 

“Stranger? Riles, come on. You know me.” He pushed Suzie's hands away. “Besides, it's my job to deliver packages safely to their location.”

Suzie lit up. “I knew you were a mailman! I called that. Bus psychic!” She poked his shoulder, before pinching and rubbing it. She sure was touchy with people she didn't know very well. 

“Okay,” Riley agreed hesitantly, “But check back in with me tomorrow, eh?”

Leeory nodded. He didn't know why they were being so oddly suspicious about him trying to help this sad drunken realtor. 

“Come on, old drunk lady.”

She put her hands on his cheeks. “I AM old. Leeroy. I'm old.”

He could feel his face heating up, almost in embarrassment, but also… something else that he couldn't identify. 

“Do you remember your apartment number?” He asked as they left the bar. 

“Yesss, gees you guys are acting like I'm a child.”

She stepped into the street before the walking light had turned on, seconds away from getting hit by a car. Leeroy reached out and grabbed her waist to pull her back onto the sidewalk, her body knocking into his. She turned to him with a shocked expression, her face too close to his for comfort.

“You saved my life!” She shouted. 

“Hmf,” was all that came out of his mouth. His heart was racing. Adrenaline, from saving her. This strange woman whose hair smelled like vanilla, whose skin was so soft he wasn't sure she was a real human and not a doll. 

He shook the thoughts from his head. “Come on, now.”

His arm stayed latched around her waist, trying to keep her upright, protecting her from cars.

She leaned on him, babbling about taking the bus because she never learned how to drive. It was strange how quickly he became comfortable with her this close to him. He didn't really like physical contact, especially from someone he barely knew. 

It was almost like she wasn't a stranger at all, but someone he had known for a long time. 

Maybe they really were kindred spirits. 

She pulled her keys from her pocket, unlocking the hallway to the swanky complex she lived in. One street away and yet this place was miles nicer than his. For starters, the hallways were actually locked. 

“What apartment are you?” He asked, scanning the doors. 

“Two. Oh. Fiveeee. Two oh five. I'm alive. In two oh five,” she sang. 

There it was, 205. He had temporarily let go of her to unlock her door, and she immediately fell over. 

“Whoa, I got ya.” He wrapped his arms around her again, like it was nothing, pulling her back up. She hugged into him, head on his shoulder. 

“You're so nice to be nice to me, Bus Child.”

“Let's get you inside,” Leeroy chuckled. 

“I love it when you laugh.”

He didn't respond, distracted by how insanely clean and perfect her apartment was. The place was at least twice the size of his, with new appliances and no mold. 

“Holy shit, this place is nice.”

“Thank youuu,” she said, throwing her keys on the granite countertop. “This was the only place that I could move into immediately that wasn't super far from work. I had to get a two bedroom. It's kind of sad. I told myself I'll use it like an office like Victor did sometimes, but I don't work when I'm at home. It's just a reminder that Victor is a bastard and I am alone.” 

Suzie began to rifle through her organized and labeled pantry, on a mission. 

“Why don't you get a roommate?” He grabbed a small blue cup from the dish drying rack and filled it with water. She would probably need it later when she woke up puking.

“Because I'm picky. And scared. Mostly scared... I'm really scared. All the time. Ooh! I do have Cheez-its!” 

She yanked the box from the pantry, shoved a handful in her mouth, crumbs falling all over her shirt and the floor. Seeing her so… uncomposed almost felt like an honor. The general vibe of her and her apartment was that she tried to seem as buttoned up and perfect as possible. 

“I get it,” he said, handing her the cup of water, which she gulped down, “I'm scared too.” 

“Is that why your day was bad?” 

He sighed. Feelings weren't really something he discussed with people. “... Yeah, actually.”

“I'm sorry. But we can be scared together.”

Warmth spread throughout his chest. It was… nice. Like a hug from a friend. 

Then she walked closer to him. Really close. 

“Hand me your phone.”

He bristled. “Why?”

“Because I'm putting my number in it. So you can call me when you're scared.”

She began to reach into his pocket. 

“Whoa, whoa,” he said, feeling himself turning crimson. “What do you think you're doing?”

With an “aha!” she pulled his phone from his pocket, before staring at it with confusion. “A flip phone?”

“I don't need a fancy phone.” 

“Ohhh you're so brooding ooohhhh,” she said in a mocking phone, typing in her number. She texted herself to make sure it worked, then handed it back to him. 

He looked at the name. The Beautiful Suzie Ackerman. That was going to need to change before someone saw it. 

“Well I, uh, I should go.” 

Why is she still standing so close?

Suzie smiled at him. “Okay. Thank you for getting me home safely.”

“It's my job,” he mumbled, trying not to look her in the eye. 

He could hear her breathing, and it was raising his heart rate. Her hand had found its way back to his face, but this time gentle, quiet. Stroking his cheek with her thumb. 

The feeling was completely new. Nerves, nausea, softness, warmth, fear, and something else he couldn't pick out. 

“I'm glad you let me see you smile tonight,” she whispered. 

Her finger had lifted to the crinkles next to his eyes, his stomach completely flipped at this point. And… he was leaning in. Why was he leaning in? 

There wasn't any time to second guess - she went the rest of the way, closing the gap and placing the softest kiss on his lips that he had ever felt. 

He'd kissed people before. Girls, guys, anyone, trying to see if maybe he liked one thing more than another. But it was all nothing. Gross. Uncomfortable. There was no thrill, no anticipation, no rush of blood. Just distinct awareness that it was wrong. 

This wasn't that. This was… what was this?

It felt like he wasn't controlling his body anymore, because he leaned deeper into the kiss, reciprocating, electricity shooting through his veins. 

She pulled away slightly, but he dove back in, chasing this feeling he didn't realize he craved. A whimper escaped her throat, and it felt like… a punch in the stomach? But in a way he liked. 

Her lips parted, warm breath exchanging with his, as her tongue touched the outside of his mouth, asking for permission. Permission he granted her, letting their tongues meet, something he'd done before and hated, but maybe not with her? It felt… good. Better than he imagined. Better than what his friends described. 

Sexual attraction. He was feeling sexual attraction. 

He couldn't feel sexual attraction. It was a hurdle in his life he took forever to jump over. He felt broken, less of a man, everything in the book before he accepted he was asexual. 

Feeling this… was batshit terrifying. 

Somehow she didn't taste like artificial cheese and salt, but cherries, and a hint of vodka. 

Vodka. 

He pulled away abruptly. His body was trembling. Sober, but reeling. He shouldn't have let her do that. And he shouldn't want to do it again as badly as he did. 

“Whoa,” she whispered, hands on his chest, eyes still closed, “You're… really good at that.”

“You're drunk,” he said, his voice cracking like he was going through puberty again.

She giggled. “Oh you're right. I probably shouldn't have invaded your personal space. I'm gonna be in my head about that tomorrow.”

She stumbled toward her bedroom, adopting a bad British accent, “Thank you for the help, kind sir. Text me when you're home safe. I shall retire to my bed quarters and likely spend the night vomiting.”

“Bye, Suzie.” 

More confused than ever, he walked out and shut the door. 

—

Leeroy, hi, it's Suzie, from the bar yesterday, and from the bus? I am so so sorry about last night. I was in a bad headspace and drank too much on an empty stomach and once again I am just so sorry for violating your boundaries. You can totally delete my number and pretend you never met me. I completely get it. 

Leeroy hadn't slept. 

Twenty-four hours before, he had felt comfortable, confident in who he was, where he was at in life. Then he learned his roommate was moving out, and maybe he wasn't as secure in his sexuality as he thought. 

Sipping coffee in the mail truck, he watched people go about their days, wondering if any of them were also secretly having an existential crisis. He knew to reach his next stop he'd have to drive by Suzie's billboard.  

Seeing her name flash in her phone that morning had sent his blood pressure spiking in an unwelcome manner. He couldn't stop thinking about the way it felt to kiss her. And it freaked him out.

He wanted to do it again. Taste her, feel her soft lips against his. He wanted to touch her skin, run his hands through her hair, it was all so unfamiliar. 

It felt exactly like the identity crisis he had as a teenager when he realized he didn't feel those things. This revelation could not have come at a worse time. 

All of this was too embarrassing to talk to his friends about… but… he did know someone who might be able to help him.

Making a slight diversion in his route, he drove to the Triangle, knowing Riley would be setting up for the art show that night.

He parked and locked the truck up in the back, then snuck in through the employee entrance. 

“Riles?”

They had headphones in, and practically threw them off when seeing him hovering by the door. 

“Jesus Christ, Leeroy. You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry.”

“Are… you okay?”

“I took the girl home safely last night.”

“... Okay. And?”

How did they always know? “She kissed me.”

Riley laughed. “That girl is sloppier than I gave her credit for.”

They seemed to notice that Leeroy wasn't responding with humor, instead blankly staring at the easels they were building. 

“Did… you want to talk about it?”

“I liked it.”

“Huh?”

“When she kissed me.”

“...And you're questioning everything about yourself now.”

He nodded. 

Riley sighed. “Look, I get it, being young, it's - it's scary. We feel like we need to box ourselves into all these labels and names and I think we do it because that means we fit somewhere. Because a lot of us, we just don't feel like we fit anywhere.”

Leeroy nodded again. He never did. Felt like he never would, sometimes.

“Just because this one girl gave you a feeling doesn't mean you're not who you think you are. Maybe it just means you guys are… What did she call you? Soul mates?”

“Kindred spirits,” he corrected quickly. 

“Right. Try not to let it freak you out too much.”

“How?”

“Talk to her again. See if it was a one night thing. Where you got hopped up off of Sprite and beer. Or, you know, if you get feelings again, even if it goes nowhere… well, then you know what this feels like. You won't have to wonder anymore. You got to experience it. That's the beauty of life.”

They were missing the part where he didn't want to experience it. 

Except for the fact that experiencing it again was all he could think about. 

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Hey, listen. Nobody is going to think less of you if you don't fit perfectly into a box. I promise you, everyone will still love you just as you are, no matter where you go in life.”

He willed tears back into his eyes. It was difficult to believe that. But he wanted to. 

“You should go finish your route, kid, I'll see you tonight, don't be late this time.”

“Thanks, Riley.”

“I'm always here to talk.”

Leeroy left. He finished his shift. He saw the billboard. 

And… it made him smile. 

–

Suzie hadn't been this hungover in a long time. She spent most of the night throwing up cherry vodka and Cheez-its, shame boiling in the depths of her brain. After a pound of makeup and a lot of nausea medicine, she got on the bus to go to work, trying her best to be a functional adult. 

But then she didn't see Leeroy in the backseat like usual… and it all came flooding back.

She kissed him. The poor aro/ace kid who was nice enough to bring her home. She put her tongue in his mouth! Why did she do that? 

In a panic, she texted him, apologizing. He saw it and didn't respond. She understood, embarrassing as it was. 

He really was a nice kid. He made her feel really safe. And she basically assaulted him. Good going, Suzie. 

After a very long, nauseous day of work, she ambled over to the bus, sunglasses covering her eyes, ducking into her usual seat two rows back from the driver. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, ready to sleep this off over the weekend. One stop down, four to go. 

“How's the hangover?”

She blinked her eyes open. It was Leeroy. He was sitting next to her. 

“Huh?”

“I'm assuming that's why you have those giant sunglasses on.”

Guilt washed over her once again. “I'm so sorry. About last night.”

“I know. I got your text.”

“I'm sorry.”

He chuckled. She liked his laugh. “Stop apologizing. You were drunk. It's fine. Besides, I have blackmail on you now, in case I ever need it.”

She smiled. “I didn't see you on the bus this morning.”

“Stalker. I had an early shift.”

“Well I'm glad you don't hate me.”

“Nobody said I don't.”

“...Is this because I made fun of your hair?”

“My hair is cool.”

"I could make it better."

"It doesn't need to be better."

“Let me at least do one curly-girl routine on you. See if you like it. I'm begging you to throw out the straightener.”

“I don't straighten my hair.”

“Don't lie to me, Leeroy. I can hear your curls crying.”

He smiled at her. She liked his smile. “I'm showing some of my photography at the Triangle tonight, you should come. And maybe not drink anything.”

She chuckled, “Yeah, okay.”

Leeroy was far too young for her. Not her type. And, you know, not interested in sex or relationships. But when he looked her in the eyes, she got butterflies. 

It was not okay. 

But… it was nice. 

They both got off at their stop, and Suzie gave a small wave goodbye as she started to cross the street.

“See you tonight?” He yelled. 

She turned around to yell after him. “If your friends are there I'm going to get them to bully you into letting me do your hair.”

“I'd like to see you try!”

“See you tonight, Kindred Spirit!"

He didn't respond, but she was pretty sure he smiled.