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There was nothing as frightening as the moment after coming out to someone important. Time inevitably slowed down for Vanessa to imagine all the worst potential scenarios, looks of disgusts, or uncomfortable pleasantries. It was hard to breathe while waiting for the person she was trusting herself with to say something. The incident of coming out to her parents was forever going to taint each following disclosure, regardless of whether that was fair to her or her friend.

In many cases, Vanessa could, for better or worse, see what people thought about the news of her gender. With Gina, they were both wearing sunglasses, so she would have to trust that Gina was the genuine, honest person Vanessa knew her to be.

Gina did not disappoint. The squeeze of her arm was immediately reassuring, but not as much as what came after.

>> "To me, you're just Nessa, and I like Nessa-- and all that that entails."

Vanessa could have cried, but she was not going to make a scene on the boardwalk. Still, Gina was once again everything she was cracked up to be, and she liked Nessa. It should not have given her as much of a warm, fuzzy feeling as it did, but she could not help it. How was anyone not supposed to fall for Gina?

Being completely out in the open with Gina, (about everything but her powers, of course,) had a freeing effect on Vanessa. Up to that point, she was holding herself back ever so slightly, because she felt like she was hiding. Coming out successfully came with a surprising shot of confidence, so when she chose to express her gratitude, she led off with something she was not expecting.

Vanessa leaned into Gina and planted a kiss on her soft, grey cheek. ”And I like Gina. Everything about Gina,” she promised with a smile. She was not as concerned with what a kiss on the cheek between friends might imply for the moment, because it felt natural, and that was good enough.

Looking past Gina and toward the line-up of buildings they were walking next to, a building caught her attention and her eyes sparkled. ”Oooh, an arcade! Can we?” she asked optimistically, already tugging Gina along in the direction of blinking lights and techie jingles.

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.

Nessa was in a precarious position. She did not want to scare Juliette away for Booker’s sake, but she was looking to make her point clearly. Maybe she was an over-protective sister, but she was related to a great guy who often wore his heart on his sleeve where it could be promptly smacked to the ground by men and women who did not know how to care for another person. It upset her to see Booker hurt, and he was a world-renowned pathetic moper, so it was important for her to know he was not letting toxic people back in his life.

Juliette was taking her tongue lashing with strong eye contact, which was appreciated both for obvious reasons and because it showed she was not trying to hide anything. Even without telepathy, people who had secrets or moments of shame shied away from the eyes of their accusers. Juliette held firm, if not wobbly. She was a mutant, which Vanessa was aware of, and evidently, she needed an intake of energy to keep her running. A lamp flickered out for a moment nearby before coming back to life, and the woman across from her was suddenly looking more stable. Vanessa’s eyes moved from the lamp to her quickly, but she only replied with a nod to signify that she understood Jules was a mutant and had mutant needs.

There was plenty of interest in Juliette’s eyes. She was not used to things going as fast or as well as they had with Booker. That was good to know, and maybe even a little heartwarming. She also found Vanessa attractive, though not in a “I’d cheat on Booker with you” way, which was the right way to find her attractive. Mental flattery was always worth a point or two because it was honest. She also had very valid reasons for leaving her last boyfriend, and as Vanessa thought, she felt a lot of conflict about what happened with Booker and how she had to end things with the other guy, Sam.

She was honest. Everything she said matched up with everything in her head, and there was a genuine sincerity when she admitted how much she liked Booker.

The silent stare-down lasted a few moments longer than necessary, perhaps to let Juliette sweat out the verdict, but Vanesa’s expression softened into a smile. ”Okay. I believe you. I’d like to start off on the right foot from this point forward.” It was a genuine attempt to put Rebecca and Sam and any other qualifiers behind them. ”Though my ominous threats still stand. Hurting Booker would not be your brightest decision,” she added, fully embracing a more intentional mutation pun.

Vanessa glanced over her shoulder at the door to the kitchen, making sure Booker’s curly hair was not peeking around the corner eavesdropping. ”For what it’s worth,” she whispered, ”He really, really likes you, too.” With how emotionally expressive Booker could be, she was sure Jules already had that impression.

With the confrontation out of the way, Vanessa called over her shoulder, ”You can come back and return to your night with your unharmed girlfriend!”

Vanessa’s opinion of Juliette started in a bad place and never had the opportunity to improve. She was the girl who used her brother to fill whatever gaps were left behind by her relationship. Those opinions did not improve when she realized how exactly she knew Juliette.

It was not a common name, and as large as New York City was, she still should have known how fate worked. Juliette was, in fact, Rebecca Grey’s best friend. She was with Rebecca for months, and naturally that meant conversations about the important people in their lives, as well as friends commenting on MyFace and Speedigram. Booker was dating her ex’s best friend, and that did not help the impression Vanessa already had of Juliette as an indecisive cheater.

The way Juliette’s voice dipped at her name, it was clear Vanessa was not the only one connecting the dots. They recognized one another, which was good. They had something important to discuss, and that would be easier if they could skip over introductions.

Booker was the only one not yet on the same page, because he was preoccupied with the mortification of being walked in on for the second time in recent memory. (In Vanessa’s defense, it was not like she was seeking these moments out!) He offered the most meager excuse for why Rebecca was not there, but her reaction was stony. They both knew exactly what “plans” he had for the night, and she was none too pleased to be manipulated out of the way.

”I left my phone in my room,” she replied tersely, not feeling it particularly necessary to defend why she might drop by to her own apartment. ”You can relax, I’m not staying,” she assured him in the world’s least reassuring tone.

Vanessa did not move from where she stood, choosing to eye Juliette. She was annoyed with Booker’s presence more than the attractive brunette’s, because while he was in the living room, she could not get a “read” on her. Still, it was a rare opportunity, and she was in a pissy enough mood to have the leverage to make a conversation happen. ”Booker. Could you please give Jules and I a moment.” It was a deceptively worded sentence, because nothing about her tone implied it was a question. ”I was hoping to have a chat with her, girl to girl, before I left.”

She turned her gaze to Booker, eyeing him with utmost seriousness. ”Now, please.”

Booker had been happy, and as a good sister, Vanessa was appreciative, even if he was the most obnoxiously happy person on the planet. The younger sibling always considered herself low-to-medium energy. She liked being active and going dancing on occasion, but she was usually controlled. She was convinced their mother had little energy left to dole out when she was born, because Booker took so much with him on the way out.

Happy Booker was endearing, but he also filled the apartment with unprovoked song, and she had been grabbed and twirled on at least three occasions since his date. It was wonderful he was so happy, but she hoped to some higher power that he would balance out after the honeymoon phase he was clearly enjoying.

She heard a lot about the date because when Booker was happy, he was hard pressed to shut up about why he was happy. He was enamored with the nurse who, up until recently, had a boyfriend. When they shared a kiss behind the guy’s back, Booker came to Vanessa distraught and plagued with guilt. It was not his best look, given what Vanessa had endured at the hands of Becca and Agnes, but she did what she could to be the supportive sister.

Now that the woman, “Juliette,” was back in the picture, Vanessa was skeptical. She wanted to be happy for Booker, but there were facts to consider. They met once in the hospital, then in the library (when they shared their clandestine kiss,) and by their third meeting, the woman had left her relationship and Booker took her on a date. Booker thought Juliette was the sweetest person on Earth, but to Vanessa, she had all the makings of a woman who moved fast, was not sure of what she wanted, and left men in her wake.

Booker’s dating history was… well, checkered was a good word for it. Some gems (like Shelby and Chloe,) and some evil beings from the nether (like Chris and Spencer.) Booker had been the one to protect Vanessa so often growing up, but she made the effort to be there for him, particularly when it came time for him to pick up the pieces of his broken heart. She was defensive of the notion that a woman who proved she had the capacity to cheat was now going to be in his life, but she would behave herself for the time being. Booker really liked the new girl in his life, and Vanessa had to work on not jumping to conclusions.

Vanessa was pushing the concerns out of her mind for one night, because she was meeting Gina for drinks, followed by a night crashing at the Honeycomb. Booker gave her fair warning that Rebecca was going to visit the apartment. Something about talking over details for a video on Pixel Hearts, along with some friendly gaming. Naturally, Vanessa moaned and groaned, but she told Booker he could be friends with whoever he chose, and he had an ace in the hole when he invoked the recent Spencer incident.

Staying out for the night seemed like the right course, or it would have, if she had not forgotten her phone in her room. Who did that in the current day and age, seriously? Lacking a phone at work was annoying, but she could not go straight to the club like she originally planned without the device. Coordinating with Gina would be a challenge if they could not settle on the right place and meeting time.

It was going to be a brief moment where she would see Rebecca, try not to grimace, retreat to her room, and get out before things got awkward. It was going to be a good night once she made it out, so the last thing she needed was an awkward interlude.

Vanessa arrived at her apartment door and turned the knob, because at the end of the day, it was her apartment, so why should she have to knock and announce her presence?

The answer, of course, was her brother on the couch with a woman straddling him. So much for avoiding an awkward interlude. The lighting in the room was dim, and for one heart-stopping second, Vanessa’s brain was trying to convince her Booker was somehow making out with her ex-girlfriend.

”The hell?” She muttered softly to herself, before her eyes really focused on what she was seeing.

Booker was making out with his new girlfriend, (she assumed,) after invoking Rebecca’s name to scare Vanessa away for the night. The depth of trouble her brother was going to be in with her was precedent-setting. This would possibly become the new bar she held all other sibling anger against going forward.

”How goes the video planning?” she asked flatly, making sure she was loud enough to get Booker’s attention. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her expression was one of unamused. ”You know, with the evil ex-girlfriend you told me would be here.”

It might not have been her fault, but Juliette was not getting off on the best foot with Vanessa. There was something else, though… it was hard to get a good look at her yet, since she was on top of Booker and mostly facing away from Vanessa, but she could have sworn there was something familiar about Booker’s new love interest…

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.

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.”