Spellhacke- M. K. England Page 0,45

are we going?

I hesitate.

You: I’ll tell you in person.

Davon: Fine, Super Sneaky McSpy Diz

For the first time in hours, the corner of my mouth twitches into an attempted smile.

You: No

Just

Don’t try.

You can’t master the naming.

Davon: You’re right, I apologize. I bow to your superior skills.

You: Damn right.

Let’s just meet at Nellie’s on U Street.

Davon: Be there in ten. Stay safe, Dizzy.

Outside the changing room, the shuffling of sneakers over carpet catches my attention. A pair of feet in ragged, stained hightops comes to a stop just beyond the curtain.

“Hey,” a voice says. The shop monitor. “You can’t be like . . . getting high in there or sleeping or whatever.”

I push myself to my feet and blink the chat out of my lenses, feeling slightly more functionally human than I did ten minutes earlier. Davon will meet me and hear me out. He won’t be happy with my extracurricular activities, but he’ll be on my side, at least. He’ll want to know what happened. He’ll help, like he always does. No matter what I get into, he’s always there.

More than I can say for some people.

The shop guy grunts as I slide the curtain aside and push past him without a backward glance, stalking out into the misting rain with my new-old backpack slung over my shoulder. I pop open my umbrella, jog across the street, and sharpen my mind, blocking out the internal noise. The low-level constant screaming of wrongness and guilt. It’s time to focus.

I have a job to do.

Davon is already waiting for me outside Nellie’s when I turn the corner onto U Street. His eyes slide right over me at first, then widen when he does a double take, looking me over from head to toe and getting stuck on the green boots.

“Uh,” he says. “Are you okay?”

I roll my eyes. “It’s a disguise.”

“Clearly.” He looks at me sidelong for a still moment. Then his lip quivers, and he reaches for me. “Dizzy, I know you hate this kind of thing, but—”

I don’t let him finish. I throw myself into his arms and bury my face in his shoulder. His military-cut jacket is a rough canvas material, scratchy against my cheek, the sensation grounding and immediate. He’s probably half choking, I’m squeezing so hard, but I need it, need to crush us together until my heart can crawl out and curl up with his, safe and protected. Despite his lack of oxygen, he wraps his arms around me and holds me close, rocking me like my mother used to when I woke up from a nightmare.

“Hey, it’s okay, Dizzy,” he croons, rubbing a soothing hand up my back. “I’ve got you. Whatever it is, we’re gonna figure it out.”

He eases back and turns his attention to the people entering the club behind him, to give me a moment to wipe away my tears. Gratitude surges in my heart for this cousin of mine, the one person on this planet who just gets me, doesn’t try to change me, who always gives me exactly what I need. No more, no less. Space when my thorns are out, love when I’m falling apart, independence and support in perfect balance.

I give one last sniffle and pull all my shattered pieces back together, then clear my throat.

“Hey, eyes forward,” I say with a gentle shove. “I didn’t ask to meet here so we could go dancing.”

Nellie’s is our favorite club, the place we always go when I need a night away from the others. Needed, I guess. Chill, safe, good music, plenty of queer folk of my particular persuasions. But tonight isn’t a night for fun. My mind couldn’t be further from it.

“Come on,” I say, taking Davon by the arm and walking us down to the end of the street. “Call us a pod.”

“Okay,” he drawls. “Happy to, but I have no idea where we’re going. Why can’t you do it?”

“For reasons.” I close my eyes and breathe hard through my nose. This is why I hate crying so much. Once you start, round two is always right behind your eyes, just waiting for the slightest provocation. “Please, Davon, I’ll explain everything once we’re inside. Will you just call a pod?”

He huffs, but his eyes go unfocused as he navigates the menus of the ride app. A minute later, a two-person pod descends from the traffic lanes overhead and slides to a stop in front of us. The door pops open, and I dive in first, half out of