Rain Angels

“Hey, do you wanna go out with me?” Eris asked.

“W- what? We, uh, I’ve only known you for like a few minutes?” I said.

This was Rain Angels, a place where you could make your own social norms and for socially anxious people to make friends, and I’d for the most part put all the least restricting ones on the form on the door, but it’d still completely caught me off guard.

“Yeah, true. Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. Never mind.” She paused a bit, seeing if I wanted to say anything more, and then said, “Okay, well I’ll be going then.”

“W- wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure,” I said. I didn’t know what compelled me to do so. Well, I did. I was a lonely as fuck trans lesbian who was also sex-repulsed, and here was a person who knew this—from the bio on the door—and didn’t hate me for it. My dating pool was an actual inflatable pool, and there were not many fish in that sea.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Sure, I’ll go out with you,” I said, clarifying.

“Wait, isn’t that a little dangerous? You hardly know me.”

I blinked. “What? Uh... huh?”

“No, like, you hardly know me, so I could be a total creep or something.”

“Yeah I get that, but then what was the point of asking me??”

“Oh yeah, good point. Well because, I was just gonna be on my way to uh, off myself, but I figured I could go out with you instead if you wanted. Like before I decided for sure, I’d come here, and then I figured I’d just let ‘fate’ handle it. I don’t really believe in such a thing though.”

I tried to process what she’d just said, my mind suddenly sharpening to the seriousness of her words. ‘Off herself?’

As I was trying to, she continued. “Not that I’m suicidal or anything.” She laughed nervously. “I mean, I guess I technically am, but it’s more like I was gonna kill myself because it’d just be a lot easier for me and everyone.”

“Woah woah woah, hold on, are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I mean, honestly I’m probably not, but I tell myself that I am as a coping mechanism.” Then suddenly, she said, “Oh shit! Wait, should I not have mentioned suicide? I just figured it was okay since it said you were fine with more serious topics on the door. I’m really bad with socializing.”

“No, it’s fine, I’m terrible with socializing too. It’s why most of us come here I think. Uhm, do you... want to talk about it? Why you want to kill yourself?”

“Sure. It’s really just more convenient for everyone. My parents don’t like me, and I’m a drain of resources on them. And I don’t particularly like living.” She paused for a moment, as if to think. “I don’t have anyone else who would care about me.”

“I... see...” I said, at a major loss for words. I didn’t know what to say next. Eventually my mouth found, “You said you weren’t suicidal? Before?”

“Oh, hahh, yeah. I’m, I’m not suicidal. I’m not suicidal because I’m fine.”

I didn’t say anything in response, half not knowing what to say, and half to let her continue.

She opened her mouth, and then closed it. Then she opened it again, and said, “I’m fine.” Then she repeated that three more times; “I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine,” each with more distress in her tone, her voice slightly cracking. I could see her eyes fighting between forcing themselves away from me to the ground and trying to maintain eye contact as she said it.

“Would you like a hug?” I asked. I didn’t know what else to say.

“Yes,” she said, and I could see hints of panic, fear, sadness and hurt within her eyes.

I slid over on the C-shaped couch to her side, her eyes following me, and hugged her, wrapping my right arm around her back and my left around her stomach. She almost deflated into it. The touch alit something in me, though I tried to suppress it. I was so touch starved. I stayed like that for a while, for as long as she needed.

Eventually, though I wasn’t sure if it was more her moving there or me accidentally nudging her there, she ended up sliding so that her head was in my lap. Her head stayed pointed forwards away from me, and it felt warm. I thought about her proximity to my lower region and felt disgusted and nauseated. Both with the thought and that I would think about that. I ignored it. After a bit, she spoke.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Of course,” I replied. Shifting, I moved her upright back into leaning on my shoulder, and draped my right arm around her, moving my left back to my left side. I didn’t know if I should move my right arm away, but I couldn’t really move it back to my side after repositioning since she was leaning on my shoulder.

“So, do you want to talk about things some more?” I asked.

“Um, sure.” She didn’t say any more for a moment, so I figured I should ask her a question. “You said you didn’t particularly like living?”

“Um, yeah. I just spend most of my time studying, or my parents get mad. That’s really most of what I do.”

“I had a soda once,” she added. “My parents don’t let me eat junk food.” She was 20. She’d said earlier, and ages were verified with pins you wore at Rain Angels. It was scary that her parents seemingly had such precise control over her life at her age.

She continued. “There are other things too. Like how my parents always snap at me. Like when I don’t make eye contact, or when I mumble or say filler words.”

“Are there things you like? What about those?” I asked.

“I like reading. I read a lot online. I write a little. I like women too. Romantically. I’m not supposed to, but I do. But I don’t tell them because it would be more complicated for all of us.”

“I like women too,” I found myself saying. “Too bad none like me,” I attempted to joke, my voice cracking in a way that felt disgustingly male. “People, really.”

“I like you, Lena,” Eris said. “But I’m a mess.”

“I like you too, and you asked me out. Are you taking that back?” I asked, sensing almost a slight hunger in my words. I was lonely, too lonely. Too desperate, disgusting.

“You still want to be in a relationship with me?”

“Well I mean, sure, why not? This will bite us in the ass though, taking relationships as lightly as this. Probably, I mean. I don’t know shit about relationships. But I’m lonely, I assume you’re lonely, and you seem nice enough, so it seems fair enough to me that we try things out. Plus, I’ve got my whole own host of issues.”

“No, I am not taking that back then.”

“If it’s what you really want. I don’t want to take advantage of you, in like a moment of weakness or something.”

“Not at all. A relationship can be broken off at any time, anyway. So every moment in one is a moment where everyone involved is choosing not to. I haven’t been in one though,” she said, laughing almost sheepishly.

“You do know I’m sex-repulsed, by the way, right?” I asked, feeling a sudden need to make sure she knew.

“Yeah, I saw on the door. I’m kind of indifferent about sex.”

“Good,” I said, feeling a little bit of relief. “I mean, not good, like, not inherently?” I quickly added. “Just, it’d kinda suck if you weren’t, seeing as we’re going out.” I said that last bit almost as if I was testing the waters, confirming that she knew. It was stupid, but I felt compelled to.

“Yeah,” she said.

“So what were those issues?” she asked.

“Huh?”

“Oh, um, unless you don’t want to talk about them, of course.”

“Oh, no, that’s... that’s fine. I’m desperate. I’m desperate and touch starved, and probably needy, and I’m so lonely. I’m kind of pathetic.”

She snuggled closer into my arm, and it felt like a droplet of water on a cracked tongue. She was practically a stranger, and I was starting to love her.

“What are the things you like?” she asked.

I shoved down the urge to say ‘you.’ No fucking shot, Lena. I almost said ‘women’ too. We’d already covered that, so saying it again would be too much and probably a little gross. Or creepy? I moved on to thinking about my hobbies. “I like videogames,” I said. So fucking generic, it felt comically out of place. Here was a girl who could have been dead, too, if things went a little differently.

“What videogames?”

“I like bullet hells, and roguelikes.” What was wrong with me? Why was I talking about this junk?

No, maybe she needed a break from heavy stuff. That’d make sense, I guessed. I didn’t know what I was doing. I mean, she did ask the question, I thought.

“How about you?” I asked.

“I’ve never tried any.”

“Oh man, we’ve gotta get you situated then, ‘cuz it’s a whole world. I’ve gotta show you some games at some point, if that’s cool with you.”

“It’s more than cool with me,” she said.

I didn’t know what to say next, so we sat in silence, her still in my right arm, for a few minutes. Eventually, she spoke up.

“Thank you for this. You’ve treated me so kindly.”

“It’s nothing,” I said, almost mindlessly. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t know.

“Hey Eris?” I asked.

“Yes?”

“This uh, might be a little presumptive,” I started, “but... could you promise me something?”

“Sure.”

“You don’t know what it is, though,” I said.

“Oh yeah. What is it?”

“Can you promise me you won’t kill yourself?” I asked. I didn’t know how fucked up her life was, so I didn’t know if, well... I didn’t know. I knew that when I had suicidal ideation in the past, at least, a question like that might have pissed me off a little.

I could see her thinking. It was kind of cute, though I ignored that given the seriousness of the situation. It bothered me that I would even notice something like that now.

“For how many years?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” I asked, not really sure what she meant. I mean, I understood, or at least I thought I did, but I just wanted to make sure.

“I don’t think I can promise more than a few years, for sure.”

“Is three good?” I asked cautiously.

“Yep. I can promise that.”

“I do promise that, I mean,” she added. I felt relieved, hearing her say that. After a moment, I realized, I should probably say that. After all, communication was like, an important thing.

“I feel relieved, hearing you say that,” I said.

“I do too, a bit,” she said.

“Can I have your number, by the way?” I asked, realizing that I didn’t currently have any way to contact her.

“Sure. Let me pull it up, one second; I don’t know it off the top of my head.”

She pulled away from me for a moment to fish her phone out of her pocket, and said, “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Yep.”

She read out her number, and I added it to my contacts. Then I put my phone away, and she did as well.

Then I asked her, “Are you...”

The words caught in my throat, and then continued, even as I realized they may not have been the best choice. “Are you okay?”

After they fully came out, I rephrased.

“Sorry, are you feeling better, I meant. About um...” I let myself trail off, not really knowing what I actually wanted to say.

“Yeah. I like you a lot by the way, Lena,” she said.

I leaned back, then laying on my back on the couch, with my feet hanging off to the side. I looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “I don’t really know what to make of tonight, to be honest, Eris.”

“Me neither. Can I lay on top of you?”

“Sure,” I said.

She scooched a little towards me and laid down so that her head was on my stomach, with her body laying on me on her side.

“That’s kind of uncomfortable,” I said, laughing a little.

“Oh, sorry.”

“No, don’t stop, it’s fine,” I said, when she tried to get up. It was even more uncomfortable when she put weight on me to push herself off, which didn’t bother me, and I in fact found it especially cute.

“I like you a lot too, by the way, Eris,” I said.

“I’m really glad. I don’t think anyone else has ever really liked me at all, that I know of.”

“That makes me really sad to hear.”

We laid there a bit longer, and part of me wanted to bring up her parents and her issues again, because I wanted to know more about what she had to deal with and to make sure she’d be okay, at least relatively. But I didn’t want to bring up stuff which I was sure was probably painful for her to think about. Then I wondered if she’d be fine with her parents, being here; I figured it was worth asking.

“Oh, I just realized, Eris, do your parents know where you are?”

“They’re going to be mad. I didn’t tell them anything, I just left. It’ll probably be fine though.”

“They’re not abusive, right?” I asked. “At least not physically, I mean.”

“No. I mean sometimes I don’t get food, when I do poorly on exams, since I’m fully financially dependent on them. But since I’m an adult I think it’s not like I’m legally entitled to them providing food for me or anything.”

I winced hearing that.

“That can’t be legal, surely.”

“I don’t know, I haven’t really looked into it. Even if it wasn’t, I couldn’t really call a lawyer or something. I’d get too anxious.”

Apparently, she could point-blank ask a stranger to go out with her though, I thought, then chiding myself for thinking such a thing. I supposed I understood it. She had a very particular way of thinking, but I empathized with her a lot.

“Well, don’t worry about it for now.” I said. “I promise I’ll help you figure out what to do with that.”

She climbed over closer to my face, peering at me, and then said, “Thank you,” while looking at me. She almost reminded me of like, a bug, crawling across my hand, but way heavier and human-sized. It was cute.

“I’m gonna get up by the way, if that’s okay,” I said. It was getting a bit uncomfortable for me, though it was nice.

“Sure; sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said, getting up.

“Okay.”

“Can you hug me again?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said, hugging her. She was so warm and small compared to me.

“I think we’ll have to go soon, by the way,” I said.

“What, why?” she asked, raising her voice a little.

“It’s gonna close, I mean.”

“Oh.”

“How about you come back to my place?” I asked.

“Only if you want, I mean,” I added. “Because like, uh, this is how people get murdered, I’m pretty sure, accepting things like that.” I kept on talking, suddenly becoming acutely aware of just how briefly we’d known each other. “I just don’t feel like I could rest easy knowing you had to go back to your parents and deal with them after all you’ve been through tonight, but now that I think about it, I guess that’s more for me really, like me feeling at ease. I don’t know,” I said, trailing off.

“It would be nice, I’d like that,” she said. I felt a lot less anxious after she said that.

I paused for a moment, and then said, “Oh yeah, can you, uh, text your parents or something? Or should you?”

“Yeah, I probably should.” She pulled out her phone again and started typing away. Then she paused, deleted some, and then started typing again.

“I’m gonna say you’re a friend from college if that’s okay,” she said.

“Yep.”

After she was done, I asked her, “How’re you doing in terms of hunger?”

“Oh. I’m kind of hungry.”

“I’ll make something for you then, when we get back,” I said, smiling at her. She smiled back.