by elsetterby

  1. The curmudgeon and the princess (Reid)

Can't wait to see you!!

The message popped up with a flurry of heart emojis, followed by a quick selfie of Layla's smiling face. She was dressed as Wonder Woman today, including a long, dark brown wig that matched Gal Gadot's hair in the movie. In a nod to the season, a sprig of holly was tucked into her crown.

Reid shook his head, smiling. That crown suits you.

This old thing? *blush*

He laughed, which earned him a disapproving look from the woman sitting next to him on the bus.

You're still not here, she texted him, after a moment.

Think we're pulling in now. He peered out the window. Then, in a little burst of panic, he sent her: I look different. Even more different than I did this summer. He tried to play it cool: Just FYI.

She sent another flurry of hearts. I know.

Ever since they'd both left their hometown for different colleges, they had never been back for breaks at the same time. But last summer, Layla had been driving down Reid's old street with a couple of her friends and had seen him in his grandparents' front yard, repairing part of their fence. She had actually pulled over and sprinted out of the car to give him a hug, enfolding him in her sweet scent and the long bell sleeves of her elf costume, while he had stood frozen with shock, his heart pounding. They had talked for a minute or two, and then she'd run off, the long curls of her blonde wig swinging along her back.

After that, they had started texting every day, as if they'd never lost touch at their separate colleges. As if their decades-long friendship could pick up where it had left off.

He had not told her directly that he was taking testosterone, but he had sent her a link to his tumblr, where he talked about what it was like to publicly transition. No pictures, because he didn't like being in front of the camera—he preferred to be behind it. Just a lot of happy, goofy gifs.

So, Layla knew. But then again, Layla had always known about him.

His bus finally screeched to a stop inside a gray concrete bus depot and the door flapped open. The driver made a garbled announcement over the staticky intercom that they had reached their final stop.

Reid pulled his duffle down from the overhead compartment and stood, shouldering the bag. Their meeting last summer had been so brief. She had seemed like the same Layla, a glittering chromatic butterfly in a drab world. All of the selfies she had sent him since were like that, too. Full of life and energy and her infectious enthusiasm for color and joy. He had wondered sometimes when they were kids if she'd lose a little of that...Layla-ness...as she grew older. It made his curmudgeonly heart warm to think that she hadn't.

"Reid!"

She was standing up on her tiptoes to see over the crowd, waving at him with both arms. She wore a long pea coat over her Wonder Woman outfit, but the hemline fluttered in the wind, revealing her knee-high boots and glimpses of her bare, slender thighs. Passers-by had left a little space around her, casting dubious looks at her crown and boots and the holly sprig in her hair. To him, she looked perfect. He slipped through the crowd and reached her at last.

2. The shadow and the light (Layla)

"!" She threw her arms around him, overjoyed to see his wonderful face. Almost as quickly, she started to draw back. Reid was reserved, and he didn't always like to be touched. But this time, his arms slid around her, and he drew her in for a hug. She luxuriated in their closeness and his cool, clean scent—the same scent he had always worn, the quintessential Scent of Reid. He felt different, which made sense, of course, since he'd blogged about having had top surgery. He was all muscles now, no softness. She stifled a wow at the last possible second and had to cough to disguise the "w—"

"It's so great to see you," she said, once she was done fake-coughing. His face was different, too, with a little stubble along the contours of his jawline.

He rubbed at his scruff with the backs of his fingers. "It's really good to see you, too."

She seized him by the arm and steered him toward a hidden side exit out of the bus depot. They stepped into the chilly afternoon. Her city's tall buildings reminded her of beanstalks, disappearing into thick gray clouds.

"An Uber should be here any second," she told him.

"What, no invisible helicopter?" He smiled, his eyes twinkling.

She grinned up at him. That tension Reid had always carried around was...not gone, exactly, but definitely less.

"So, your semester was good?" She knew it had been, because they had texted every day for the last six or seven months, but she still liked watching him talk about his new, happy life.

He told her the latest updates in the production of Glassfell, the short horror-fantasy film he'd been working on. Over the last few months, he had showed her a couple of clips, and his film's quality and creativity had completely blown her away. They'd been friends since elementary school, and back then, people had called him Layla's Little Shadow, because he was small and dark-haired and super intense, and Layla was already a dancing, singing, costume-wearing spectacle. People always did get things backward. Layla had been awed by his intelligence and perceptiveness, and his ability as a writer even as a kid. She had always been very aware of how silly she was compared to him.

That was part of what made her plan for tomorrow so, so terrifying.

"I've been wanting to ask your advice about some of the monster costumes for Glassfell," Reid said, tentatively.

She couldn't contain a squeal of delight. "Yes, please!"

The Uber pulled up to the curb and Layla bundled herself and Reid and Reid's bag into the back seat. She directed the driver to take them to her dorm hall, and spent the next twenty minutes looking at pictures of Reid's costumes and happily offering him notes, both flattered that he had asked her and glad to be talking shop.

They reached her dorm hall, a freestanding concrete tower that had probably been extremely trendy forty years ago. "This must be pretty different from your dorm?" she said, as they rode up the elevators together.

"My dorm room is in a converted barn."

"Sounds fabulous! I still want to visit you," she added. "I'm so glad you're here. Last summer, I saw you for, like, a second."

"And before that, it had been years."

"Since high school graduation." He hadn't been out as Reid back then, except to her, their group of friends, and his grandparents. She still remembered wincing when they'd called him up to the stage for his diploma as Rachel, struck by the dead name's wrongness. He had never, not ever, been Rachel.

"I'm so happy you could make it for Friend Christmas," she said, brushing sad old memories aside. "This is my favorite time of year! Apart from Halloween, obviously."

"And Comic-Con?" he suggested.

"And Comic-Con," she agreed.

"What about Dragon Con?"

"That, too!" She winked at him. "You got me. I love it all." And she did. She loved holidays, grand events, parties, anything that could and should be celebrated, but she also knew that everything was better with good friends. And Reid, especially.

The elevator pinged at her floor. She took his hand and lead him to the student lounge, which she and Maggie had been decorating all week, ever since exams had ended. "Behold—the setting of Friend Christmas!"

3. Trust and friendship (Reid)

had refused to send him any pictures of the common room she'd been decorating all week, but he had imagined decorations just as flamboyant as Layla herself.

His imagination had not done it justice.

A huge Christmas tree stood in the center of the room, which was perplexing, since Reid doubted it could have fit in the elevators. The tree was surrounded by plushy arm chairs and couches that had all seen better days but did look very cozy, especially piled with holiday-themed pillows and throws. The tree itself practically weeped decorations, especially tinsel. To the right, stockings hung from a small kitchenette island. Because this was Layla, a photograph of a fireplace had been blown up and carefully pasted onto the side of the island, so the stockings looked like they were hanging in front of a crackling fire.

A woman with dark curly hair stood on a ladder in the corner of the room, attaching a string of glittering snowflakes to the ceiling. She smiled down at them as the door swung closed behind them, her face brightening. "Lae, you're back! And you must be Reid!" She hopped down from the ladder and seemed almost as if she were about to hug him. She settled for a fond pat on his arm. "I'm so, so excited to finally meet you! Layla's told me all about you."

He took a breath, suddenly nervous. Everything about him? Layla wouldn't introduce him to anyone unsafe, but trusting someone new was still—always—difficult. Growing up, he'd been a boy trapped in a girl's rapidly developing body in a conservative small town in Ohio. School had been a nightmare. He'd been lucky to have his grandparents, who had raised him, and who were supportive and kind, if a bit strict. And he'd been so, so lucky to have Layla. She'd always been so bubbly and vivacious and funny that it was impossible for anyone to dislike her. She'd spread her wings so wide she could shelter all of her misfit friends underneath. Always loving and accepting, asking only that they accepted her in return and were kind to each other.

Other trans kids had it much worse. But it still hadn't been easy.

Layla looped her arm through Reid's again. That familiar mix of pleasure and nerves zinged along his skin and into his chest at her touch. He saw the curly-haired girl notice, saw her smile curve upward. Her friendly face was full of joy. He could trust Layla's assessment of her. He forced himself to relax. "Maggie, right? Layla has sent me pictures of you guys cosplaying together."

"Maggie Juárez at your service," she said brightly.

"Maggie made me that amazing steampunk ballgown I wore to Dragon Con," Layla told Reid. "It was the most beautiful dress I've ever worn."

Maggie blushed. "Lae."

"I know, I know, I am super embarrassing." She beamed, completely unabashed. "It's almost time, isn't it? I'd better change."

"Change?" said Reid.

She winked and tapped her nose. "I'll put your duffle in my room for you." They were spending the day in the city together tomorrow, and after that, flying back to Ohio together, where they'd go their separate ways to spend Christmas break with their respective families. And then what, he didn't know. He hoped they would keep texting every day, at least.

After Layla had scampered off, Reid helped Maggie put away the ladder and set out a spread of desserts and treats on the kitchen island. A tall blonde woman, looking surprisingly dapper in an understated Christmas sweater, jeans, and oxfords, came in a moment later and gave Maggie a kiss on the cheek. "My girlfriend, Sam," Maggie explained. Sam nodded hello to Reid, polite but chilly. Maggie immediately plied her with sugar cookies, and Sam's icy demeanor melted into a smile. She whispered something to Maggie that made Maggie giggle and blush. Layla had told him about setting up Maggie and Sam over Halloween, and how she had used costumes, of course, because this was Layla. Reid found himself smiling, too, thinking of Layla's texts two months ago. I have a cunning plan, she had announced, apropos of nothing.

You usually do, he had replied. What are you up to this time?

Fixing up two people who are made for each other.

He had had an odd little moment of confusion, as if she could possibly have meant the two of them. Layla had never thought of him that way, though. At least not when they'd been kids. Things had been a little...different since they'd reconnected over the summer. A little flirty, if he let himself think about it.

But how did you ask out someone like Layla? It would be like asking out a dazzling double rainbow that brightened up an entire sky.

Two men, holding hands, walked into the common room, distracting him from his thoughts. The taller, more slender man wore a leather jacket, and the other a gray hoodie that didn't disguise his muscular physique. They greeted Reid warmly and introduced themselves as Alec and JP. He remembered Lae mentioning them, too, though they didn't cosplay with her. They were both visual artists—Alec a painter, and JP a comic artist. Reid asked them about their art, genuinely curious. Soon, all five of them were crowded into the kitchenette, talking about art, nibbling on different kinds of cookies, and pouring each other cups of eggnog and hot chocolate. She's done it again, Reid thought. She had created a warm, welcoming community for her queer, artistic nerd friends, where they could be safe, and be themselves. How did she do it?

The door opened again, and Layla reappeared. Reid had been wondering if her new costume would be Christmas-themed—a Victorian caroler, perhaps—but she wore men's striped pajamas, slippers, and a navy bathrobe. He didn't get it at first, until he noticed the sword.

He slipped past the little group to meet her at the door. "'The Christmas Invasion,' right?" The Tenth Doctor had battled the Sycorax in this same outfit in a Doctor Who Christmas Special from a few years ago.

"I knew you would get it!" Layla exclaimed.

"I love it," he said. "Clever and comfortable."

"Exactly! No bodices on Friend Christmas."

"No wig, either," he said. "You didn't want to do David Tennant hair?" Without realizing what he was doing, he took a lock of her hair between his fingers. Her natural hair, which was rarely seen by anyone, came just to the tops of her shoulders in pretty, shiny waves.

"I do have a David Tennant wig," she said, meeting his gaze and standing quite still, while he twined her hair loosely between his fingers.

"Of course you do," he said, smiling, his heart in this throat. "I'm sure that looks good on you, too."

"You don't mind the wigs?"

"Mind? No. I like them." I like everything about you. "Anyway, you like them." He knew people sometimes accused Layla of being fake or attention-seeking, but he had always known that wasn't what cosplay was for her. "Cosplay is your art. It's how you express yourself. I think it's amazing."

She smiled, though it was a more somber version of her usual full-sun smile. "People think I'm strange."

"Well, people are terrible."

She laughed. "Reid!"

"Admit it, you missed my curmudgeonly perspective."

"I did miss it," she said. "I need it in my life." She glanced past him at her friends, and he turned slightly to see that the two couples had wandered over to the couches around the Christmas tree. They didn't seem to mind that he and Layla hadn't joined them. He took a breath. What could he do with this girl, this beautiful woman, this beloved friend who knew so much, too much, about him? How could he finally speak aloud the words that had been forming in his heart for decades? And what would she say, if he did?

4. A confession and a kiss (Layla)

to fess up.

"I, um... I had a plan," Layla said. She shuffled away from him and peeked out the window at the familiar sliver of city skyline.

"A cunning plan?" he asked, a smile in his voice.

She laughed awkwardly, a blush creeping up her neck. "I mean, it was not my most cunning?"

She set her Doctor Who sword down beneath the windowsill, where city lights seeped across its plastic hilt. Both of her costumes today had been favorites that she chose when she needed a little extra courage. She needed that courage now. If the Doctor could fight the Sycorax and save planet Earth, she could tell her best friend how she felt about him. "When I invited you up, I, um, had a plan to ask you out, quite romantically, tomorrow, in the park, with snow coming down, and so on."

He was very quiet behind her. So quiet she could hear the frenetic drumming of her own heart in her eardrums.

"That does sound quite romantic." His voice, already deepened by the testosterone he'd been taking, pitched even lower. She caught her breath, her skin tingling.

"What was the problem with the plan?" he asked.

A tiny spark of hope flared to life in her chest. "Well, there were three problems," she said, playing it cool. "First of all, you're not really a fan of grand gestures."

He made a sound of general agreement.

"Secondly, it's not snowing, which is frankly very annoying considering how cold it is outside."

"And thirdly?" He came up behind her, and, to her surprise, took her hand in his. She swallowed, then squeezed his fingers gently, struck by how right his hand felt in hers. Her heart was still racing.

"The third problem was that I didn't want to wait anymore. Not even another day. Not another minute." She still could not look at him. She couldn't believe that she was finally saying all of this—and not over text, but out loud, in person.

"Good," he said softly. "I don't want to wait anymore, either."

She finally looked up. He was grinning, and suddenly, she was grinning, too.

"I have wanted to ask you out for ages," he said. "Layla. I've always liked you. Always."

She blinked. "I didn't know." Reid had never pursued her, so she had assumed he wasn't interested. She had tamped down any feelings she'd had, until she'd seen him again this summer after so much time, and her feelings had burst back into full color. "So I didn't need my plan at all?"

"We can still act it out, if you want."

She giggled. "I might have some fake snow somewhere."

"We'll get your friends to sprinkle it on us from the roof."

"They would totally agree to that," she admitted.

"Let's ask them, then," he said, stepping in even closer and taking both of her hands in his. "In a minute. Can I kiss you?"

"Yes," she breathed, gazing up at him. City lights glimmered across his short hair, his jawline, his muscular shoulders. His eyes were dark and deep. He disentangled one hand from hers and tilted her chin upward. Bending forward, he kissed her lips, carefully, slowly. His arms slid underneath her Doctor Who bathrobe, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth. She kissed him back, melting against him.

Somebody cheered and whooped, and they broke apart, laughing, to see her friends looking over at them and applauding. She and Reid went over to the couches, holding hands. "About time you got together!" Maggie exclaimed. "Now, are you two love birds going to join us for Christmas crackers or what?"

She and Reid piled onto the free love seat, while Sam passed around a box of Christmas crackers. Alec poured glasses of champagne and sparking cider and passed those around, too, and they all toasted to Friend Christmas.

"To Friend Christmas," Reid murmured in her ear, kissing her cheek. "And to you."

***

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