Page 29 of I Can’t Even Think Straight

Saturday: I Can’t Even Think Straight—Bouldering

Vass wears rainbow leggings

and a tank top that says:

“I Can’t Even Think Straight.”

Their long hair is in a high ponytail.

Jenny and Obi compliment Vass

on their outfit and rainbow-colored nails.

It’s the first time in ages

I’ve seen Vass with short nails.

Coach hands Vass a fresh-out-the-box

youth squad T-shirt to change into.

Vass holds the T-shirt at arm’s length

between their thumb and index finger,

like it’s the tail of a small, dead rodent.

“This is a hate crime,” jokes Vass.

Jenny, Obi, and several others laugh.

Matt shakes his head disapprovingly

and looks at me sternly,

as if Vass’s sense of humor is my fault.

Visibly flustered,

our usually unbothered coach

explains that the purpose

of the youth squad T-shirts

is to tell the teens

apart from the adults.

“It’s part of our child-protection policy,”

Coach says earnestly.

“I was only joking,” says Vass.

They pull the youth squad T-shirt on

over their tank top.

“Nothing to say you can’t customize it,”

Obi says to Vass, as a consolation.

His thumbs point back to himself

sporting his own sleeveless version.

“Give us a twirl,” I tell Obi, as a joke.

To my surprise, Obi twirls,

like a well-trained puppy.

Woof, woof , Vass mouths at me.

We come together in a group of five.

Jenny drawn to Vass. Obi drawn to me.

Matt’s not saying much to anyone.

I thought Matt was dying to meet Vass,

but Jenny and Obi are much friendlier.

My devil tells me to ignore Matt.

My angel tells me to focus on Vass.

The advice is almost the same,

but the second feels more kind.

We take each problem in turn.

Jenny, the most experienced, goes first.

Next is Obi, then Matt, then me.

Vass goes last each time,

to see how we handle each problem.

They get the hang of it in no time.

Their long arms have a wide reach,

and their rainbow legs stretch,

like a ballet dancer suspended in midair.

“You’re doing so well for a beginner,”

says Jenny to Vass encouragingly.

“Thanks, babe,” says Vass from on high,

at the top of the wall.

Vass doesn’t jump to the crash mat, like Jenny,

but climbs down cautiously,

and is met with a high five from Obi.

When I offer them a high five,

Vass throws their arms around me.

“This is so much fun,” they say.

“Thank you for inviting me!”