Gina was great. She was fun and up for anything. She was sweet and not too shy when it came to giving compliments. Talking to her was effortless. Gina was great.

Gina was too great.

Vanessa and Gina had been friends for weeks. Months, if you started counting from the Piano Bar birthday party, but their impromptu meeting at the mall was the start of their time hanging out as friends. They took quickly to spending time together, and as the weeks went on, it seemed like they were only making more plans together. When Vanessa had time outside of work and the occasional recording session with Booker for their personal channel, she was finding herself asking Gina if she was free. Even when she was not, their text message chain was lengthening past “novel” and toward “epic.” Things were going so well.

And none of that was helping the massive crush she had on the woman who was quickly becoming one of her closest friends.

It was so stupid. Vanessa was a telepath. She could literally read minds, but she was also a coward. Gina would have flirty thoughts or mental notes about her appreciation for Vanessa’s appearance. Hints were there, but they were inconclusive. Gina was not straight, and she could appreciate harmless flirting and the female form. That did not mean anything concrete about a reciprocated crush. It did not help that Vanessa had adopted the habit of averting her eyes bashfully at inopportune moments.

It was almost like she was too nervous to confirm the truth, whatever that may be.

Maybe it was the catch-twenty-two of being friends with a girl like Gina. The gargoyle was extroverted and personable to a fault, and could likely make any hang-out feel warm and welcoming. Vanessa did not want to read too far into Gina’s behavior because it felt presumptuous to think Gina was interested in dating.

Except every time the saw one another, it felt like a date. It was hard to pin down why, but Vanessa had narrowed the possibilities down to genuine chemistry (which did not necessarily imply dating,) playful banter and possible flirting (which did not always imply dating,) and occasional lingering touches (which felt a hell of a lot like dating.) Maybe they really were just instant friends, but it was hard not to think there might be more there when they were spending so much time with one another.

Case in point: it was the Fourth of July, and who else would Vanessa be with but Gina? The girls both had the day off, and a conversation about how nice it would be to get away from the heart of the city led to an hour ride down to the Rockaway Beach and Boardwalk.

Vanessa loved the summer and the sun on her skin. Now that she had burnt once or twice in June, she was developing a nice, even tan that would only improve with their excursion. She wore a sheer white sarong wrapped around her hips that she would be removing at her earliest convenience. Otherwise, she wore wedge sandals, large sunglasses, and a maroon bikini with a gold ring tethering the straps together. (And yes, the bikini might have been a recent purchase spurred by a certain woman’s recommendations.)

Stretching her arms over her head and embracing the sun, Vanessa looked down at the blanket she had set down on the sand, (securing the corners down with large rocks found nearby,) where her friend, (just friend,) Gina was sitting. ”Well, we’re officially the Girls of Summer! What are you in the mood for? Sunning? Swimming? Cruising the boardwalk? The world is our metaphoric oyster,” she said with a smile.

Despite (or perhaps because of) her meeting with Agnes, things had become more complicated in regards to spending time with Vanessa. In straight relationships, the three cardinal rules entailed not dating your best friend's ex, not dating your ex's best friend, and... well, Gina couldn't remember the third but the fact of the matter that, on the straight side of things, there were rules about this! And, on the other hand, in the gay community it was almost inevitable (and in some situations, recommended!). The gargoyle was in a quandary. Not to mention that Nessa had been the one wronged.

Besides, she was getting ahead of herself! They were just friends, hanging out like Gina would hangout with any of her other friends. However, just knowing that Nessa had been in a relationship with another girl opened a window of possibility and-- no, no, no! Don't go there sister. Just-- don't go there.

It also did not help that Nessa was around more often than a fair number of Gina's friends. the problem with being a social butterfly is that people always assumed your busy hanging-out with other people... as if your time was a commodity that needed to be requested weeks in advance. This couldn't have been further from the truth. As such, Gina found herself with copious amounts of idle time (particularly over the summer, when there was no school to interrupt her), and conveniently Nessa had often been the one to fill said idle time. Of course they were growing closer-- they were constantly hanging-out together.

Much to the chagrin of the unknown-telepath, Gina was putting thoughts of relationships on the back-burner. She was, as one would say, taking full advantage of the college life, enjoying herself and playing the field. She tried not to read too far into anything and, thus far, had managed to remain a free agent (and enjoyed every minute of it).

As was expected, the topic of going to the Boardwalk arose, and the two young women settled on the Boardwalk. Gina was vaguely familiar with boardwalks from California's own boardwalk in Santa Cruz... if the commercials were anything to go by, it looked like a fun outing. The only problem was that the standard mode of dress appeared to be "swimsuits with some form of cover-up". As the gargoyle was a buxom non-swimmer, she possessed no such articles of clothing.

Thankfully, she had ample time to find an appropriate swimsuit online, one with a halter neckline, open back, and modest drape of mesh over the pink bikini underneath. It was modest yet cute, predominantly pink, and perfect for lounging in the sand.  Rather than throw money down for a cover-up, the gargoyle had wriggled into a pair of cut-off jean shorts, donned her sunglasses, and ventured out for the day. Her top was practically a tank-top anyways (spare an inch or two of bare middrift), so what was the point?

Nessa, who'd appeared to have made more thorough plans, was laying claim to their plot of beach with a blanket. Gina, all the while, drew spirals in the sand with her taloned index finger. The sun felt nice upon her dappled grey skin.

"Well, if we sun ourselves, I'm bound to fall asleep," the gargoyle admonished, stifling a yawn. Nocturnal inclinations had their drawbacks. Though the sun felt nice and most of the world was bustling, Gina could feel the call of an impending nap. She wasn't much of a swimmer, either.

"I would love to check the boardwalk out," the gargoyle confessed, "I've never been to one before, and it looks like fun." If their brief foray through the arcade and past the hokey carnival games was anything to go by. Some of the rides might be a challenge (modified physiology + harnesses = do not mix), but Gina was excited to try just about anything. Or, at the very least, drink it in.

Telepathy is definitely a "be careful what you wish for" kind of power, particularly when you cannot turn the power on and off. People are always thinking, and sometimes initial thoughts are less than palatable.

Gina was "playing the field," or at least that was what she read in her eyes during one of their previous encounters. That was great for her. Awesome. Vanessa could not be a hypocrite. She had been dating women since her breakup, (if you use the term "dating" loosely.) They were two single, adventurous friends. Two attractive, queer, single friends. No reason for that to get complicated.

Except recently, the "dating" was dying down. More of her time was going to Gina, because try as she might, "go out to the club" did not sound as appealing as "watching paint dry with Gina." (Not that they had added that activity to their list, but if Gina asked, Nessa was pretty sure she would give it a shot.

Being at the beach was filling her metaphorical energy bar, so Vanessa was fine with whatever Gina felt like doing as long as it didn't involve going home. She had been looking forward to the impromptu trip too much to cut it short, especially when the night would come along eventually.

And with it, fireworks. It was gong to be a great night, and Vanessa was doing a good job ignoring the romantic implications of fireworks.

Gina had mentioned how her mutation affected her, and how she was naturally nocturnal. It was the right choice not to lay around just yet. First, they should exhaust some nervous, excited energy. (The "they" was really just Vanessa, of course.)

"As good a sleeping buddy as you are, I totally agree it's time to prowl the boardwalk." The more distance between her and the tragedy of that club night, the more she looked at it with surprising fondness. Yes, her relationship crumbled, but she had a genuine moment with Gina. The end of the night still made everything worth it.

Nessa took a cursory glance to make sure she was leaving nothing valuable behind on the beach. "I don't know about you, but I'm craving some boardwalk food. Shall we?" She offered her arm to link with Gina's, not considering the implications of how much time the two friends spent arm in arm.

Gina was all smiles as Nessa agreed with the motion, particularly over the "sleeping buddy" comment.

"I've been told that I am a pro cuddler," the gargoyle said cheekily, attributing her supreme cuddling skills to the reason she was such an estemed "sleeping buddy". The gargoyle had a woven bag full of essentials, which had not been deposited upon the towel, but kept upon her shoulder. She eagerly trotted after Nessa, looping her arm through the taller young woman's. Her free hand, all the while, rested on the same arm.

"If it's anything like carnival food, I am so down for it!" the gargoyle agreed, pointing forward, "Lead the way!"

The pair picked past similar towels and blankets, sunbathers and sand-castle builders and various players of games alike. Gina relished the hot sand beneath her toes, and the cool arm that was interlaced with her.

"I'm so excited," the gargoyle confessed, for perhaps the twelfth time that day. Excited to be there, excited to be there with Nessa, excited to finally be going to boardwalk. Just. Plain. Excited!!!

Closer to the boardwalk were rows of beach volleyball courst, lines marked in the sand by ropesfastened by stakes with loops on the top. The two girls expertly found their way between two games. Now the boardwalk loomed immediately before them, a fantastic construction of giant logs. A sand-caked stairway was immediately to their left, one of many that interrupted the uniform line of the boardwalk.

"What kind of food are you feeling?" the gargoyle asked Nessa, since it was her proposal to begin with.

Gina, ever at the whim of her sweet tooth, was ready to stuff her face with cotton candy. But given how early it was in the day...

Despite this rational realization that it was early in the day, Gina's eyes wandered the pier on their own, skimming for the cloudlike shapes of cotton candy.

It was nice, just being playful and silly with Gina. It all felt so effortless. Neither of them even shied away from the night they shared a bed, which was nice. In the light of the morning, Vanessa worried that drunken decision would make things uncomfortable, but she could not have been more wrong. ”I can verify. Pro cuddling skills. Potentially Hall of Fame caliber,” she joked before they linked up and headed toward the boardwalk.

Vanessa was not exactly versed in “boardwalk food,” and realistically, the two women might have had different experiences visiting beaches on their respective coasts. ”I think there’s some overlap? There’s plenty to snack on though.”

They ascended the sandy steps up to the boardwalk and entered the hustle and bustle of beachgoers wandering the wooden path. It was busy, but still more sparse than any New York sidewalk on any given day. Maybe it was an illusion that came from the lack of towering buildings all around them, but everything felt more open and free out there.

Their minds were both on food, and Gina wanted to know what Nessa might be craving. There was a temptation to check Gina’s eyes, but they were both wearing sunglasses, obscuring her mind reading effects. Honestly, she had been using her mutation as a crutch less and less with Gina. She was not going to stop reading the woman, because that would mean avoiding those gorgeous eyes, but she was not probing them for thoughts often. Occasionally she got curious, but she was accepting Gina might be one of the more genuine, honest people she had ever met. Why waste time reading thoughts at that point?

”Hmm, I don’t know,” she admitted, her eyes scanning the buildings they were passing. Taco shops, grills, candy shops, and plenty of other options taunted her. The scents wafting from the open storefronts were tantalizing, including the meats. It would be so much easier to be a vegetarian if meat would automatically smell worse. No dice. ”Everything sounds good, so it’s throwing off my radar.”

As they walked forward, there was a gap between buildings, and Vanessa’s eyes lit up. ”Ginaaaa. Food truuuuck,” she said, excitedly drawing out the words as she pulled her friend along.

Vanessa loved food trucks. They boldly chose to eschew traditional buildings, and that mentality usually meant unique offerings. Looking around at the dozen or so trucks parked around her, Vanessa’s mouth hung open slightly. ”So many options!” she said enthusiastically, before dialing it back and glancing at Gina. ”I mean, if this is cool with you.” It was not like the food truck court left them lacking for options, after all.

The gargoyle also surveyed the lines of restaurants, the wealth of options that lay-out before her overwhelming the gargoyle with choice. Her penchant for having a sweet tooth made the candy shops particularly appealing, but candy wasn’t exactly “substantial” food. Though the smell of freshly-made taffy was hard to ignore…

>> “Ginaaaa. Food truuuuck.”

“Food truck?” the gargoyle echoed, snapping to attention. Despite having lived in the city for over five years she had, admittedly, never gotten food from a food truck. They weren’t exactly common in a small town like Mendocino, where there was no commuter traffic to speak of, so it hadn’t occurred to Gina to ever try them. Why not try today? Besides, Nessa was already leading her over towards them.

There was a small box of brightly-colored food trucks, each touting a decal that proclaimed what foods they had to offer. Some of the trucks had music streaming from them, while others simply had the attendants poking their heads out of high-up windows, addressing the patrons below.

>> “So many options! …I mean, if this is cool with you.”

The gargoyle smirked at her friend, still wading about in all of the smells and sights and sounds. Her tail swished contemplatively, curling from one side to the other while she thought.

“There is a lot to choose from,” the gargoyle agreed, “But it’s totally cool with me! I just… have to decide?”

She had to go with something safe. The last thing she needed was to eat a bad burrito and spend the rest of her day out with Nessa ill. From this distance, she could only see the names of various trucks and illustrations. Maybe Nessa had sage food truck advice? Gina gasped and her tail paused in its casual flicking. Her eyes befell a pastel-colored truck, which touted an adorable ice cream decal on its side door.

“Ice cream,” Gina whispered, looking towards Nessa. It was definitely warm enough for ice cream. But was it late enough in the day? The gargoyle was of the mindset that it was never too early for ice cream, but she didn’t want to seem too childish, particularly in the company of her older friend. The gargoyle rolled her lips together, continuing to skim the collection. She had to find at least one lunch-like thing. There was a place that sold sandwiches! Sandwiches were pretty good… right?, "Or maybe sandwiches?"

Vanessa was never good at picking places to eat. It was a byproduct of being a vegetarian and being in the mood for all foods at all times. Thankfully, Vanessa was good at convincing other people to decide on food plans. The food trucks were a perfect excuse to give Gina the reins, because it created the illusion that Vanessa made a choice, when all she did was lead them to twelve choices. Whether it was fair or not, the ball was in Gina’s court to narrow things down from there. ”Yup, definitely your choice. The fate of my stomach is in your hands,” she cried melodramatically.

Gina considered the options and the responsibility Vanessa tossed on her shoulders. Her first thought was endearing. Ice cream was definitely beach food. She considered the idea, knowing it was still early in the day, and they should probably consider a choice with more sustenance for lunch.

At the same time, ice cream was ice cream. Cold and sweet and clearly what her partner’s sweet tooth was demanding. Gina offered an alternative in the way of sandwiches, which sounded appealing in their own way, but it was obviously the choice she felt less passionate about.

Faced with the ability to once again create the illusion of decision making, Vanessa placed a finger to her cheek and uttered a long, drawn-out, ”Hmmmm.” Acting like she came to a decision after a period of deliberation, she smiled and confidently replied, ”Okay, executive decision! It’s too hot out not to grab ice cream, making ice cream a totally acceptable Summer Lunch!” With Gina’s arm still linked in her own, she tugged them toward the pastel food truck offering up frozen treats.

There was only one person in line ahead of them, giving Vanessa less than a minute to look over her options. Keeping with the spirit of culinary creativity she loved so much from food trucks, there were several “specialty flavors” offered alongside more traditional ice cream hallmarks. When it was their turn at the front of the line, she placed her credit card on the counter immediately. The ice cream was her treat, whether or not Gina chose to protest the choice. ”Let’s see…” she said contemplatively, feeling the pressure to make a quick decision now that it was her turn at the head of the line. ”I want… oh! Wow, chocolate-covered strawberry sounds heavenly. Definitely that, please.”

With her choice made, Vanessa stepped to the side to allow Gina a turn as a second employee started creating her order in the back of the truck. ”Your turn, Genie. And her order?” she added to the employee hanging over the counter. ”It’s on me, too.”

The gargoyle’s tail gave an excited shiver when Nessa declared ice cream to be an acceptable food and led the two towards the truck. In fact, the tail continued eagerly flicking as the two queued up and surveyed the menu, which proclaimed the flavors and various dishes available. Of course, there were the usual flavors—cookies and cream, chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, mint—but there were some more unique ones as well. Gina fell behind as Nessa stepped-up to the window, absently rummaging for her wallet while she continued reading the board. The unique flavors were also of interest, but if those were a bust, she always had the classics to return to.

>> ”Your turn, Genie. And her order? It’s on me, too.”

Gina’s tail paused in its excited flick and curl, and she looked at her friend in mild alarm. At this point, she’d managed to fish her wallet out—a long, blue canvas wallet with a repeating pattern of two otters holding paws.

“Oh gosh, are you sure?” the gargoyle asked, gaping, “I mean, it’d be no trouble-“ to pay for herself, that is, “-and I was going to get a double scoop, I’d hate to impose.”

She stood rooted in her spot for a few moments, her tail resuming its idle flick and curl as she returned her attention to the menu—oo! That looked pretty yummy… she shuffled towards the window, her wings fluttering slightly.

“May I please get the honey vanilla lavender?” the gargoyle asked, resting her taloned hands on the metal surface outside of the window. Her wallet was still in her grasp as she step aside for Nessa to pay.

“Thank you so much,” the gargoyle said graciously, smiling. She was used to money being tight (as a college student), and each paying their own way when it came to outings. As such, when someone offered to spring for food, Gina was deeply appreciative. It took a few minutes for the attendants to scoop the ice cream, but soon enough they were poking their head out the window and offering two ice cream cones, one of a definitively chocolate variety, and the other the white-gold of vanilla. The two girls eagerly took their cones.

“Thank you!” Gina said, surveying the work. They weren’t stingy with their scoops, she’d give them that. Two meaty scoops stacked on atop the other in a waffle cone, with flecks here-and-there (Gina assumed theses to be lavender).

“Cheers,” the gargoyle said, before taking a lick of ice cream. The flavor was incredible—predominantly vanilla, but the honey gave it a sweet kick. The lavender underlined, but didn’t overpower, the ice cream as a whole.

“Nessa, you have to try this,” the gargoyle said, her tongue chasing after a budding ice cream mustache. Gina held the cone out towards Nessa, who'd paid for it after all, adding-on, “It’s amazing…”

Nessa was not going to say it out loud, but she loved how expressive Gina’s tail was when she was excited. It was hard to tell someone she was like a dog without it sounding insulting, but there was an unavoidable parallel. It was another way Gina was inherently honest, wearing her emotions on her sleeve and the tip of her tail.

The offer—nay, the command that Vanessa would be paying for their frozen lunch was received with a mixed response, as expected. Gina was caught, wallet in hand, struggling between not wanting Vanessa to go out of her way, and being appreciative that Vanessa was even offering. If she were a selfish, frugal person, she could have bowed out and still received full credit for the kindness of the offer. Truthfully, money was not so tight she could not treat a friend to ice cream, and she had a strong need to do nice things for Gina.

”Put that wallet away. That money belongs to the adorable otters and will not be spent on your ice cream,” she joked. It was not her first time seeing the wallet, and every time, she marveled at the pattern emblazoned on it. ”And you darn well better get that double scoop or I’ll spend the rest of the day insulted! Do you really want that? There’ll be lots of pouting. Trust me, you don’t want that.” She still struggled with some insecurities when it came to her body, but Vanessa had all the faith in the world in her pouty lips.

When cones were handed down from the window along with Vanessa’s card, the girls wasted no time going in for a taste-test. Vanessa’s cone was topped with dark reddish-brown ice cream with chunks of strawberry and dark chocolate throughout. Her first lick of the ice cream coated her tongue in the sweet, fruit-laced flavor. She embraced the cold as it spread across her tongue and down her throat. It truly was a perfect beach treat.

Her ice cream trance was broken by Gina offering a taste of her own ice cream. A cone was held out as an offering, but a quick glance at the attractive grey face behind it showed a little of the ice cream left on Gina’s upper lip. Nessa grinned, overcome by the sudden desire to lick the ice cream mustache away and—

Okay, stop. Bad Nessa. There are rules, and licking your friend’s lip is totally against the rules. It sounded like a good idea; hell, it sounded like the best idea. That did not mean it was the right idea. She needed to cool down.

What better way to cool down than with a frozen dessert? Nessa’s tongue licked up the offered ice cream, and her nose scrunched happily at the flavor. It was more subdued than her own; a smoother flavor with its own mellow sweetness. ”Mmm, I can definitely approve. It’s like the ice cream version of a bubble bath.” It was an odd comparison, but the combination of vanilla, honey, and lavender was just soothing.

Nessa held out her cone and smiled. ”Fair is fair! Unless you don’t like chocolate, of course. Which would be fine,” she added hastily. ”It’d just mean maybe you aren’t the perfect woman like you’d have me believe.”

Did she just call Gina the perfect woman? Nah, that was probably just in her head. Her smitten, ice cream-addled head.

>> ”Mmm, I can definitely approve. It’s like the ice cream version of a bubble bath.”

Gina nibbled her ice cream cone contemplatively, muttering the phrase, “Bubble bath…” to herself. Bubble baths were comfy and quiet and soft… and so was the ice cream!

“I can see that!” the gargoyle agreed, rolling her lips together appreciatively, “Totally bubble-bath-y.”

Nessa offered her cone in-turn.

>> ”Fair is fair! Unless you don’t like chocolate, of course. Which would be fine. It’d just mean maybe you aren’t the perfect woman like you’d have me believe.”

The corners of Gina’s mouth crinkled in a smile, a faint lavender flush rising to her cheeks. Perfect woman??? Sure, she was outgoing, but even a compliment as off-the-cuff as that one could take a gargoyle by surprise.

“I-I’d have to be a heathen to say no to chocolate,” the gargoyle recovered. She leaned forward, taking a modest lick of Nessa’s chocolate ice cream. If Gina’s ice cream was a bubble bath, Nessa’s was a bucket of water over the head. A rush of rich flavors, an assault on the senses, but in a good way. The gargoyle closed her eyes, righting her eyes, savoring her taste.

“That’s rich,” the gargoyle finally commented, opening her eyes, “But awesome.”

She returned to her more staid ice cream, hoping to quell the blush in her face with the dessert before her.

“Do you wanna cruise the boardwalk, see what’s around while we eat?” the gargoyle asked, “Or go back and sit?”

Even though Gina had returned to her own ice cream cone, the after-taste from Nessa's was still kicking. It left a strong impression, much like the older woman who it belonged to.

Gina understood her! It was nice to have someone around who did not give her weird looks when she had a thought that made total sense to her. Her and David would riff on videos, getting into weird tangents based on logical leaps, but there were plenty of times when they did not meet eye to eye with their bizarre connections. David was also not as cute as Gina, for obvious reasons, and when she earnestly agreed with the bubble bath assessment, it was a special kind of validation.

Sunglasses were keeping thoughts off the table for the day, but Gina had enough tells to prove Nessa did, in fact, call her the perfect woman. The smile forming on her lips was a hint, but the giveaway was the blush of her cheeks. Girls blushing would always be an adorableness standard, but Gina’s blushing was different. The natural grey of her skin left more shades of purple to blend with the typical pinks and reds, leading to soft lavender matching the bits in her ice cream. Gina’s blush made her heart flutter.

Heart fluttering was probably a problem, but she had no way to stop it, so Nessa was accepting it as part of her life now.

With the trade successfully negotiated, Nessa returned to her ice cream cone and its rich, awesome flavor. ”We could totally be ice cream connoisseurs. Our analysis is totally on point.” Clearly they had missed their calling.

With food checked off their “to do” list, Gina was looking to her to make the next choice of the day. Luckily for Nessa, the right option was a no brainer. ”I definitely say walk. We can sit when we’re all walked out. Plus, boardwalk stuff,” she added as though it was the definitive answer to dispel any remaining doubt.

With an ice cream cone in hand and her free arm linked, they returned to the boardwalk. There was no destination in mind, but Vanessa was sure something would catch their eye. While they looked around, they had some time to talk and eat. ”I love this place, but I’ve been in New York all my life. You must have had your choice of gorgeous beaches over in Cali, right?” The more Vanessa spent time with Gina, the more she enjoyed learning the little things about one of her new favorite people. ”Did you spend a lot of time near the water growing up?”

Gina nibbled away at her ice cream, sighing at the idea of such a job.

“That would be the dream,” Gina murmured, “But then we might start hating ice cream.”

Her mom had always regaled the days of working at a pizza place and, after returning home with the scent of pizza clinging to her pores, she’d grown to hate it. In fact, for the first few years of Gina’s young life, her mother wouldn’t even touch the stuff. She’d munch away at a salad while her children enjoyed the feat. Though “hating ice cream” seemed impossible, the gargoyle feared that a dark day such as that might one day come.

The gargoyle was delighted when her friend agreed to walking. Good! The wind in her hair might shake-free any brain-addling thoughts. The two returned to strolling arm-in-arm, each enjoying their respective ice-cream cones. The gargoyle’s eyes wandered along the boardwalk, straining towards brightly colored buildings in the distance, drinking in the people around them, while listening to Nessa talk. She recalled Nessa mentioning that she was a New York native.

“Native to the City, or to the State?” the gargoyle queried, before taking another thoughtful lick of ice cream. It was a fair question—some people were from upstate, and vehement that there was “more to New York than the city”.

“I actually grew up in a coastal town,” the gargoyle admonished, smiling, “A tiny place on the North Coast called Mendocino. Very pretty, very touristy.” Gina chased a dribble of ice cream that was starting to dribble down the cone, “I’m not much of a swimmer, but I was definitely down by the water a lot. My favorite thing was to fly out to little islands and pretend that I was the queen of them.”

And there were always plenty of rocky outcroppings to speak-of. Mendocino was on a ridge above a small bay, after all. Not at all like the sandy, people-filled beach along which the boardwalk ran. It was quieter. Dotted with redwoods. Covered in fog. It was strange to think of how different two beaches, two oceans, could be. Gina smiled, realizing that she’d gotten lost in thought.

“Gosh, I’m sorry,” Gina chirped suddenly, shaking her head, “It’s so easy to get nostalgic.”

She loved the city, she really did... but that didn't change the fact that Mendocino was her home.

Gina’s joke earned a sideways glance from Vanessa. There were many things in her life she got sick of over time, but she struggled to see how ice cream could end up on that list. Ice cream was good and pure in all forms, and as a vegetarian, Vanessa’s diet was too restrictive to get tired of the things she actually liked. Maybe some people had an upward ice cream limit, but she was certain that was not in her DNA.

”I’ve always been a city girl through and through,” Vanessa admitted. It was a fair questions; people from the northern half of the state hated being lumped in with the New Yorkers of the city. She attested more than once that New York City could be its own state and no one would question it. ”I think about what it’d be like to live somewhere quiet and lowkey, but it’s hard to even picture. One of those situations where I grew up going to sleep with the buzz of the city streets in my ears.” Like many city dwellers, Vanessa had occasional dreams of retiring to a quieter life one day, but it was honestly likely she would live and die a city girl.

Vanessa listened to Gina regale her with stories of the town she grew up in, Mendocino. It sounded just like the type of town Vanessa could one day dream of settling down in. Quaint, coastal, but with some of the touristy hustle and bustle she was used to in New York. She could picture a younger version of Gina with the same large eyes and bouncy curls ruling over her own abandoned island. It was a touching visual. ”I’m sure you ruled your island nation with grace. As a princess, I would know,” she added, calling back to the joke they came up with on their first shopping trip together.

It was nice watching Gina return to her childhood, clearly taking a mental trip back to the days of her youth. ”No, it’s okay,” she assured her quietly, ”Nostalgic is good.”

Mendocino sounded like a lovely place, and Gina seemed to have a happy childhood. It was nice to hear, because Nessa had her worries, given some of the possible roadblocks someone with wings and horns could experience in life. ”So… are you and your family close then?” It sounded like a bold assumption that could have gone south quick, but Gina had mentioned her mother before, so Nessa took the chance. ”It’s good. I… know some parents can be… less than nice when their kids are ‘unique.’” Vanessa knew the struggle all too well.

Gina nodded her head vehemently as Vanessa pondered what it would be like to move out of the city.

"It's so much brighter here," the gargoyle avowed, "And noisier. So much noisier. When I go home, everything feels so dark... especially when most of the streetlights are in-town. I'm pretty sure the only stoplights are on the highway..."

Now her small-town heritage was really showing. The gargoyle returned to her ice cream, where she wouldn't stereotype herself further. The polite thing would be to return the question.

>> ”So… are you and your family close then? It’s good. I… know some parents can be… less than nice when their kids are ‘unique.’”

"Unique," Gina echoed, smirking. That was one way of putting it. It was true, though. There were so many stories of parents disowning their kids when mutations developed. Hell, her own biological parents had dumped her at a fire station. That wasn't anything to cry over though-- it was the best thing that could've ever happened to her. As far as she was concerned, Pam was her Real Mom.

"I had the benefit of being chosen by my Mom," Gina confessed, tilting her head at Nessa. Did she understand? It was a vague euphemism, but obviously a biological parent couldn't "choose" their kids, "And honestly, Mom was the best thing that ever happened to me, with my three brothers being a close second. We're all super close. Even if I am, you know, on the other side of the U.S."

Gina nibbled at her ice cream. It was starting to lose the decorative orb-like shape, and was being reduced into a tipless cone of icecream.

"What's your family like?" Gina asked, "You said you have a brother, right? Older or younger?"

Vanessa liked that Gina was not a typical city girl. She was a girl in the city whose heart probably never left her coastal town. Gina’s eyes were more sensitive to the light, and New York was nothing if not a city of lights. She wondered if, one day, Gina might consider moving back to the West Coast. The thought of her new friend leaving filled her with a moment of sadness, unless, of course, she went with her.

Would she leave New York with Gina? It seemed like a big thing to honestly consider moving across the country with a friend, yet somewhere down the line, it was something Vanessa could picture. The last days of summer as the town quieted with the eventual decline of tourism. Relaxing on the shore near a fire as the stars started filling the sky. Her head rested on Gina’s shoulder, kissing the dappled spot where—

Okay, Vanessa had to tune back into reality and not some potential future with a woman who had been nothing but a friend to her. Then again, had she? Vanessa had made a habit of dismissing “moments” with Gina, assuming the girl was so West Coast open and affectionate. As the weeks went on, though, they were starting to amass a healthy series of “moments…”

It was a thought Vanessa would tuck away for later. She wanted to know more about Gina, and that involved not zoning out into her fantasies.

Gina understood what Vanessa meant by unique, but she took it positively. It was her worry that Gina might take offense if the wrong word was used, but she really was unique, and not all of that came from her mutation.

“Chosen” was the word Gina chose to emphasize, and it only took a moment for Vanessa to catch up to the implication. Gina was adopted. Whoever originally gave birth to her was not in the picture, which was disappointing, but it was not a sad point to focus on. Gina was willing to leave behind issues of abandonment because she realized she had a true family that loved her for who she was and added to her life. It was touching, and Vanessa was even feeling a little envious. ”I’m glad your family understands how lucky they are to have someone as amazing as you in their lives,” Nessa replied, smiling broadly.

Her smile wavered slightly when Gina asked the logical follow-up question. The fallout with her parents was never an easy topic to discuss because it also broached the topic of her identity. Vanessa was an honest person with everything but her trans identity and her mutant identity. It was something that shaped her, but it was also something she could get away with leaving in the past thanks to her ability to pass. It seemed like something that would only complicate her life if it became public knowledge, and she usually only told people she really wanted to be with, because she needed to know those people were going to accept her, regardless of who she was. She had told Rebecca, and to her credit, she believed her ex would keep the secret to her grave.

Then again, this was Gina. Gina, possibly the most accepting and understanding person she knew. Someone she had already trusted with so much of herself. Someone who, even if she was not going to admit it to herself, she did want to be with.

”I do have a brother. A big brother. He’s actually my roommate right now. He can be a pain, but he’s… a really good brother.” She was looking at her half-eaten ice cream cone, and her voice was more noticeably nervous than it was moments earlier.

”He’s kinda… the only family I’m willing to own up to. My parents…” she stopped for a second, feeling a lump in her throat. She had no reason to worry, and she knew it, but she still felt totally vulnerable. ”My parents were not accepting and not okay with who I am. As a woman. As a… trans woman,” she clarified shakily.

She needed to focus on something positive, because she just dropped a big parcel of knowledge of who she was, and she did not want that hanging in the air awkwardly. ”Booker—my brother—helped me a lot through that, so when I think of my family, he’s it.”

Vanessa’s eyes were stinging behind her sunglasses, but she was not crying. If Gina’s reaction was uncharacteristically unkind, she knew tears were not far off, but she prayed it would not come to that.