WebNovels

An asexual and a transexual enter a bar

7
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
--
NOT RATINGS
82
Views
Synopsis
Ever walk into a room and instantly know you don’t belong? What if that was every room? Rita has always felt different. She can’t quite explain why, or maybe she’s afraid to. Fresh from a failed relationship she doesn’t fully understand, she lets her best friend drag her to a club in a desperate attempt to “get back out there.” What follows is a quiet journey of discovery of love, identity, and the courage it takes to accept yourself when the world insists you’re missing something, even when you're complete.
VIEW MORE

Chapter 1 - Imagine getting dumped? Couldn't be me

"I'm not even sure if you love me" A man cried out, seated at a table opposite a woman in a white blouse and wine lipstick.

The woman went still, as if the feeling drained from her fingertips and face at once. She looked at him—then past him—to the cracked brick wall behind, where a single picture frame hung crookedly. It read, I still fall in love with you every day. The words mocked her.

She refined her gaze onto the man. He wore a faded t-shirt, the one she first got him when they started dating. 'The real dill' it said, an inside joke crafted as they bonded over their weird love of pickles. She thought it was funny and cute. Fast forward to now, where it isn't as cute and is a relic of what was once a promising romance. 
"Of course, I love you." She fired back, but the words came out thin. Even as she spoke, she doubted them. Truthfully, she was unsure if she did. She thought she did. But love was a feeling, not a thought, at least that's what she was taught.

"Then why don't you show it?" The lines on his forehead grew increasingly more defined. They were not from worry but frustration. His beady eyes pierced through the woman as he foolishly searched for answers within the grey in her eyes. 

"All we do is talk about stupid childish shit." His voice domineering, slamming his fist into the table, causing her salt and pepper to crash onto the floor. 

The bang made her stiffen. Rita startled but didn't move; she wasn't sure she could. She stayed still, as if locked in a cupboard, eyes pressed to the slats, watching what she couldn't stop.

She had never seen him this angry, this animated—with his fist balled up, red matching the text on his shirt, and his eyes trying to escape their sockets. She had known him to be sweet, gentle and kind. 

Now he was rabid, vicious and ferocious. She even averted her gaze, fixating on contoured patterns on the wooden table, thinking back to the picnics they used to go on. The smell of pine mixing with the sandwiches, fruit and wine. 

"It's like it's never anything serious," he said, turning away from her. "Hell, we can never do anything serious."

His voice faltered, growing softer. "Every time I try to be intimate with you, you shy away. I can't even touch you sometimes without you cringing, Rita!" He paused, looking at her with the quiet sorrow of a man who'd long accepted the ending.

"Honestly, Rita… it feels like I'm dating a middle schooler. I don't even know anymore—it just doesn't feel like how it's supposed to." Her throat swelled, her eyes welled, and a pain bloomed in her chest; sharp, heavy; anchored deep inside her.

Inexperienced, naive, but he said…promised that would not be an issue, that they could work around it. He swore that he was fine with it, happy even that she had never been with another man—that another man's touch was foreign to her, that he was her first, or at least planned to be. 

He was in the beginning. He promised to take things slow, at her pace, that he was not in a rush and that she shouldn't feel pressured to do anything she wasn't comfortable with…so she did.

"So what do you want to do?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

She could tell by the way he looked at her. As cliche as it sounds, he used to be full of life when he saw her, now with distant eyes withdrawn wandering elsewhere and lips glued shut, that was no longer the case. 

"I want—" He paused momentarily to appropriately load the bullet in the chamber. "to never see you again." And just like that, he finished unleashing it. 

With that, he left abruptly. She didn't watch him leave, instead she heard the door slam, hard enough for the thin walls to shake, and the portrait to dive onto the floor, cracking the glass on impact. 

She stayed sat at the table, processing what had just happened, the end of her first relationship. The relationship lasted just two months. 

'Guess, I'm single again' she thought solemnly. Nothing, I'm not used to.

His words played over and over in her head, each time sounding louder and louder. Her heart ached in ways she was not accustomed to and burned fervently. She hoped that the saying, 'you never forget your first boyfriend' was hyperbolic. She wanted to forget as soon as possible. She wanted to be rid of the pain, the humiliation. She could barely call this an experience, a teaser at best. 

Newly single and heartbroken, she did the first thing that came to mind.

She grabbed her phone, dialled the first person that came to mind—Gwen, her best friend, her only friend. The phone rang for about 3 seconds, or 4–3 and half rings, before Gwen picked up.

"You want to grab a coffee" she asked hastily. In the background, she could hear a cluster of mutters, each voice distinct and hurried, as if they were out of breath doing something strenuous. But, she with her heart aching and her head pounding, solving the mystery behind the voices was of low priority. 

"Ummm…okay. Café near yours in an hour?" Gwen asked. She sounded preoccupied. Then again, she always sounded like that. She was frantic, never still, constantly moving. Even in her sleep, she was restless.

"Sounds good." With that, she hung up the phone. Still seated in the chair, she looked at the broken portrait on the floor. Like a kaleidoscope, she could see her shattered image reflected in the cracked glass—mangled. She pondered whether to clean it up or not. She stared contently into the glass as she came to a decision.

Ultimately, she elected to sit a little while longer, until her legs felt dead. Then she got up, leaving everything as is. 

"So what's with you?" Gwen asked with a coffee in hand. She pressed her lips against the cup and took a large sip, staining the ceramic with her nude lipstick. 

"I broke up with my boyfriend about an hour ago" Rita informed her. She had a water. It was untouched.

"No way." Gwen said, shaking her head and then the packet of sugar. She ripped it open, spilling a considerable chunk onto the table, before emptying the reminder into her cup. As she stirred aggressively, she edged towards Rita and asked, "Why?"

In that moment, Rita did not want to tell the truth, but she also did not want to lie. "He said—" she paused, studying her fractured reflection through the stilled water "he felt I did not value him." 

"Well, that's absolute bullshit." Gwen snapped back, squinting her left eye and pulling her head. "Weren't you always like checking up on him? Asking him how he was doing? Didn't you buy him a shirt." She asked, pointing her coffee-dripped teaspoon at Rita. 

"Yeah, I guess"

"So…how did he not feel valued?" 

Rita opened her mouth, then closed it again. She looked down at her untouched water, tapping the sides causing the water to ripple. 'Because we never were physically intimate.' She averted her gaze from Gwen, turning her attention to barista who was engaged in intense conversation with a female customer. The conversation must have extended beyond coffee flavourings as he was smiling passionately at her. "I don't know" she sheepishly said, reaching for her unopened straw. 

"Men ay, what can you do about em?" Gwen sarcastically mocked. Synchronously, she had finished stirring her coffee, and rested the teaspoon next to the pile of discarded sugar, which slowly seeped with the coffee turning the granulated white to a brown mess.

"Tell me about it!"

"Well, at least your single now!" Gwen declared loudly. Rita shot her a look as if to signal 'say it louder next time', to which Gwen apologetically blew up her cheeks while widening her eyes "And between me and you, I didn't like him." She whispered. 

"But you said he was nice."

"I was being nice. He sucked." She took a large, loud sip of her coffee, causing her stick her tongue out after as she tried to get the cold air to cool it. "I'm sure he tried to hit on me when we met, but I was unsure if he was being awkwardly nice, so I let it slide--but thinking back on it, he may have been flirting in a im-not-used-to-talking-to-woman kind of way, if you know what I mean?" she shrugged her shoulders.

"Gee—thanks! That information would have been useful before we got in a relationship." Rita retorted, contemplating unshedding the straw from its paper prison, fiddling with the edges of paper, causing a small faint tear. She refixed her gaze onto Gwen, who was busy blowing gently across the rim of her cup.

"I mean I did…tell you." she rebuked.

"No, you didn't."

"I did, subtly" She sipped her coffee, letting out a satisfied ahh at the perfect heat. Then, with a casual nod toward Rita, she brushed it off.

"What do you mean subtly"

"Like, I was like, 'his kinda flirty' and you were like, 'i guess.'" Gwen abruptly began swaying from left to right to the beat of the coffee shop's music. 

"Thats not telling me!" Rita called out "You should have been more explicit"

"It wasn't my place. It's not my relationship."

"I would have told you!" Rita muttered, placing her water further away from her and tossing the straw to the side. Gwen sensing her coffee had gotten colder, took loud sips of it, making slurping noises. 

"Anyway!" Gwen cried out. "You taking a break from dating, or going straight in?"

It was a good question. Rita hadn't thought about it. After all, her first relationship had just ended miserably. She was caught in two minds. Part of her wanted a relationship, part of her dreaded the effort it would take.

"I'm just going to let what happens, happen." That was all she could do. 

"Cool! Still believe in Prince Charming, I see."

"Hey! He was good in Shrek!"

"Right!" Gwen noted taking a sip of her coffee. She also noticed a man walk by their table, and began eyeing him. "You know what you need?"

"What?"

"Something fun!" Gwen remarked, turning to Rita and smiling, while also gesturing with her eyes at the man walking past. Rita didn't look, partially because she noticed the grey on his beard, mostly because she spotted a shiny object gleaming on his finger.

"Like?"

"Come to the club with me."

"What, no!" Rita staunching refused, waving her hands in the form of an x.

"Listen--you have to give it a shot. It'll get your mind off things. Plus, why not?"

"You know, I'm clusterphobic."

"You're in a crowded coffee shop."

"That's different."

"You need something different!" Gwen clasped her hands over Rita's and gave them a firm squeeze.

"C'mon, what's the worst that could happen? You meet another guy who owns nothing but lumberjack flannels?"

"I'm just not ready." Rita pulled her hands away and hid them under the table, her feet tapping nervously against the wooden floor.

"No one's ever ready for love—or for a relationship," Gwen said softly, leaning closer, nearly knocking her coffee over. She lifted her hand from the table and brushed it against Rita's cheek, playful but deliberate. "You just stumble into it—most times tripping over yourself."

"Yeah, but..I, at least want to get my feet from underneath me."

"Listen! This is like Bambi!" Gwen eyes lit up, Rita eyes narrowed—with her lips pursing in cautious curiosity. "When he was born, he was falling all over the place, but after a couple of moments, he could walk."

"I don't think that happened in Bambi." she said, suspiciously.

"Regardless! You just got a fall a couple of times, homie."

"I don't want to fall."

"No one does. But, you do." Gwen retreated back into her seat, and drunk the coffee. It must've been cold, as she stuck her tongue out and grimaced in disgust. "Cmon it'll be fine, trust me."

"I don't know."

"Yeah, but what else are you going to do? Mope?" Gwen barked out, swirling her cold coffee as if the motion might somehow warm it. "Trust me, it'll be fu—-a good learning experience."

"And what exactly am I suppose to learn?"

"How to be single." Gwen placed her coffee next to Rita's untouched water.

"I'm just not interested right now. I just got out of a relationship" Rita began fiddling with her handbag, searching for nothing in particular, before pulling out a flavourless chapstick. 

"Jesus, Rita! A 2 month relationship? Really? Tv seasons last longer than that." Rita expression hardened, coldly staring at Gwen. A harsh silence inhabited the room. In the distance, the barista handed a note to the customer, who was being scolded by a older lady in the back of the queue to hurry up.

"Listen," Gwen sighed, her voice softening. Piercing her eyes at Rita in remorseful plea. "Just come to the club. Use it as an excuse to get out of the house. Take your mind off things."

"Fine!" Rita reluctantly agreed, giving in to Gwen's relentless assault, knowing she'd never stop. Perhaps that's why she was a marketing head, despite holding a degree in anthropology.

"Yay! See you at eight!"