kind of terrifying.
He told her about his projects at work as they ate, and she told him about the day’s meeting with the GirlsWithGlasses team. She caught him up on Portia’s exploits with her Swordbae and he didn’t say anything rude because he understood that Reggie’s sister was important to her. He showed her the latest photos of his nephew, who seemed to have inherited is uncle’s love of puzzles judging from his favorite toys.
It was all too freaking normal. She didn’t have to awkwardly fumble for what to talk about, or try not to be too nerdy, or, alternatively, try not to get into arguments about whose fandom was better. Occasionally, they didn’t talk at all; she brainstormed topics for her website—nerd dating advice? nerd horoscopes?—while he stared off into the distance contemplating whatever interested him in that moment. That felt good, too, not scrambling for conversation or listening to someone talk just to fill the silence.
“Do you ever use that?” Gus asked after one of their quiet moments, tilting his head toward a walker that was against the side of the house.
“Sometimes,” she said, trying to keep the bite out of her voice and the dread from forming in the pit of her stomach as she wondered what was going through his mind.
In her previous relationships, there’d always been a moment when whoever she was dating latched on to something that “fixed” her, like the last guy, who’d tried to convince her to use CBD oil, or her first boyfriend, who’d taken her to his church to be healed. Reggie had gotten something out of the latter—the trollish teenage joy of standing up from her chair, making the crowd think that they’d witnessed a miracle. She’d felt terrible afterward, and only in part because she’d fooled people who were well-meaning but didn’t understand wheelchair users weren’t always paralyzed. She’d caught her boyfriend’s eye as she stood, thinking he’d be in on her prank, but he’d been as jubilant as the rest of the crowd. She’d broken up with him at next day, and his disbelief that she would break up with him had made things even worse.
“I can walk with it, but for me it’s not faster or safer than a wheelchair, and its definitely more tiring.”
She chewed morosely, waiting for Gus to ask her to give it a whirl. People always asked once they found out it was a possibility. They needed to see her walk, either to confirm that she could or because they would prefer that mobility device over her wheelchair. Either reason sucked. And when they saw her use the walker, her ataxia more apparent as she focused on keeping her balance, there was the inevitable disappointment because that wasn’t up to their standards either.
“Makes sense that you don’t use it much if it’s not as safe,” Gus said with a shrug. “Do you want dessert now?”
She snapped her gaze to his. “You don’t want to see me use it?”
“Should I want to?” He looked from her to the walker and back, lips pursed and brow furrowed at the sharpness in her tone.
“People always ask to see.” She didn’t know why she was continuing to talk about this. She was starting to get upset, her hands shaking more.
“If you want to show me, you can, but I don’t need you to,” he said. “You just told me it was tiring and not safe.”
That was what she wanted to hear. Exactly what she needed to hear.
His response still upset her for some reason.
“Aren’t you even curious? About my disability?” Reggie regretted her tendency to push in that moment, but she was already feeling things that were scaring the shit out of her. Better to find out what his deal was now. There had been a week of kissing and touching and he hadn’t even asked the question complete strangers felt fine lobbing at her. Was he ignoring it?
“Of course, I am. Because I’m curious about you. I’ve Googled stuff because it’s been a week and I’m already moving way too fast. I didn’t want to be nosy.” His expression had been neutral, but he frowned in the brief silence after his explanation. “Do you think that not asking means I don’t care? Because you haven’t asked what’s up with me, or my brain.”
There was defensiveness and frustration in his voice, and Reggie regretted broaching the topic like this. She wasn’t usually so . . . emotive, but her feelings for Gus had her head spinning.
“You