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CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

ELLIOT

Two months later...

“Onward?” I ask. “There’s a waterfall waiting.”

I’m on a hike with Hank, Angie, and their parents. After hustling my butt all last week getting ready for Taylor’s dance party tomorrow afternoon, the day outside with Hank’s family is refreshing and rejuvenating.

This is their first visit back to Seattle since Hank and I have made our relationship official, and they’re welcoming me into the family with open arms. It’s a joy and a relief, and I’m still trying to make sense of how good it feels to be accepted by them.

The air is crisp and clear as we head off.

Pink hash marks blaze the dirt path, which is wide beneath the towering overstory, lumbering Ponderosa Pine with its orange bark and tufted needles.

Sunlight speckles down on the lush ferns, and neon green moss and lichen seem to cover every other surface, rocks and dirt and bark.

The group of us set out, chatting amiably and mingling among each other as the trail bends and dips.

“I didn’t realize Hank and Angie were raised by a Trekkie,” I say, referencing his dad’s shirt.

“I’m the twin that inherited that trait,” Angie says.

“Hank went to the conventions with me when he was younger, though,” his dad adds, and I fall in step closer to him.

“That’s true,” Hank says. “It was fun to look at all the weird old stuff. But you can only browse action figures from the 1970s so many times before it gets repetitive.”

“I liked to get photographs with the actors,” Angie says. “I was collecting.”

“Sounds cool,” I tell her.

“What made it even cooler was that Dad always dressed up,” Hank adds. “And Mom made the costumes.”

“Those Borg costumes were a real pain in my keister,” his mom interjects. She looks over to me. “I don’t have to tell you about android anatomy, though, do I?”

I laugh. “No, you don’t.”

“We read an article about your work,” his dad says as the trail shifts and we move more into a single-file line. “It said something about an animation you’re developing.”

“That’s one of the offers,” I tell them happily, grateful that they’re interested and supportive. “I’m feeling pretty attached to non-animated drawings, though. I think I might do an illustrated book instead.”

“Very nice,” Ella says. “It reminds me of, oh, what were those books that you collected, dear? In the nineties? It was gargoyles, I believe.”

“Demons, dear,” he replies. “With naked women fighting them.”

“The naked women were always defeating the demons,” his mom goes on.

We round another bend, and the trail allows us to join back up as a group.

“What were you just talking about?” Hank asks.

Angie shifts her backpack. “Dad just shared that he used to be into demon porn.”

Hank laughs. “I’m so glad I asked.”

As we walk again, I gaze at Hank, my heart full of love for him. He’s handsome in the natural light of the forest, and it’s a treat spending time with his geeky family.

We stop at a small clearing beside the creek, and Hank draws everyone’s attention to the many Wild Bleeding Hearts that grow along the tree roots, delicate purple and pink flowers that hang upside down, their heart shape accentuated with a rich purple flare at the tip.

He explains that the plant oddly goes dormant not when the ground freezes, but during the heat of summer, and survives harsh winters with its massive rhizomatic root system.

The waterfall is just a little further on the path, beyond some Swamp Gooseberry shrubs that grow along the stream, their pale yellow and pink flowers hanging in dangly clusters.

Hank and I fall into step beside each other as we walk, and his hand finds mine.

“You ready for the dance party tomorrow?” he asks.

“All decorations, advertisements, and other images are squared away. Are you ready to appear in public with me?”

It will be our first time out together as a couple. These days, Hank rarely gets noticed, although I’ve become a minor celebrity of my own. There will be a stir when everyone learns we’re a couple, of course, but for the most part, the world has already moved on from our moment of viral infamy.

“It will be a relief to stop hiding. And I’m proud of you, Elliot. I’ll be glad for the world to know that you’re my man.”

I squeeze his hand. “I feel the same way.”

The sound of gushing water fills the air, and we pick up our pace as we come to the waterfall.

Shaped like a horseshoe, it tumbles down the rocks and plunges into a deep pool, crystal clear.

The sun shines through the clearing, and deer go crashing through the shrubs, disappearing into the forest as we arrive.

Hank’s mom walks straight to the swimming hole, and his dad wanders down the stream, talking with Angie. I spread out a blanket in the sunshine, and Hank and I get seated, the creek by our side.

He picks a leaf out of my hair. “It’s nice to be in nature together, but without fearing for our lives.”

I laugh. “And no part of my body is throbbing in pain.”

Hank leans back on his hand. “If people ask tomorrow, what do we call each other? Boyfriends?”

I smile, liking that we’re putting a name on it. “Boyfriends is good for now.”

After a relaxing picnic lunch and an afternoon in nature, we return to the city. Although I’m usually at the condo these days, Hank drops me at my house so I can help Taylor and Marko with the last preparations.

The next morning, we head straight to the park for the dance party.

At an accessible location right off the bus line, the sober, all-ages event is meant to bring the best of nightlife to people who might not be able to make a midnight dance party at the club.

Taylor and Marko turn their attention to setting the tech up, and I quickly unload the decorations I’ve built from our rented van.

First come the colorful cutouts of dancing bees, flowers, and birds, made on recycled cardboard. They dot the edge of the dance floor, better defining the space. Next, I hang the sparkly banners around the DJ booth, Dancing Is for Everyone! a nd Party All Day, Sleep All Night!

As I’m hanging the Free Dance Party sign on a tree, Hank arrives with Angie and his parents.

I throw my arms around him and greet them all. Dressed in blue shorts that go halfway down his thighs, sneakers, and a T-shirt for his hiking club, Hank is ready to dance, and he looks sexy as fuck.

Angie pumps her fist. “I am so ready to dance my butt off today. The D&D campaign that dances together, stays together.”

I laugh. Taylor and Marko wanted to get into the game, and she’s agreed to serve as DM and teach them the ropes for their first campaign.

“The half-orc warlock and gnome thief are behind the DJ booth, if you’re looking for them.”

As she takes off, Hank and I join hands. A few people arriving to the dance party seem to notice us, but it takes a while for someone to approach. A younger woman with blue hair and a septum ring comes up to us, smiling tentatively.

“Excuse me?” she asks. “You’re the guys who disappeared, right? Are you two together?”

Hank and I exchange a look before turning back to her.

“We are,” Hank says simply, and warmth fills me.

She lights up. “That’s so cool,” she says, and I grin as the music starts.

Hank squeezes my hand. “Shall we?” he asks.

We step out into the crowd as the music picks up. Under the sunlight, my illustrations surrounding us, Hank and I dance with his family and my friends. We bounce our hips, he pulls me close, and I feel every bit as free and safe and held as I do when we’re home together, just the two of us.

“I love you, Elliot,” he says, and I lean against my man.

“I love you, too, Hank.”