Chapter Text
“You know, turning 18 would probably be a bigger deal if it didn’t happen in the middle of the busiest time of the year,” said Arnold glumly as he picked through a bowl of Sea Wheedies to try and find the least orange ones. “Prom, AP exams, college acceptances, impending graduation…who has time for anything else?”
“You don’t like when we make big deals out of things, sweetie,” Phoebe pointed out from where she was lying, head on his lap, playing Nintendogs on her 3DS.
“We literally asked if you wanted a real party,” Carlos added as he cut a slice of birthday cake and served it to DA, “And you said no.”
(Actually what he’d said in response was: “Can’t we just do what we always do? Eat cake in the Ternelli’s basement, play board games, and watch a movie?”
“We do that every year!” Wanda had groaned.
“And basically every week, just with Keesha’s assorted baked goods instead of cake, and no presents.” Ralphie had pointed out.
“Exactly! I know what to expect.”)
In the end, they had done what Arnold wanted. It was his birthday, after all. Well, his birthday wasn’t technically until the next Tuesday – April 23rd – but they’d decided to celebrate on the closest weekend, the Friday night two weeks before Prom, so the same principle applied.
They hadn’t invited any of their other more casual friends from school, opting to keep it just between them, which was where Arnold felt most comfortable. Keesha had made his favorite cake; lemon and elderflower, which she’d decorated with a large white and yellow 18 and little piped stars frosted on top. Phoebe had done her best to decorate the basement, but she’d had to call Tim over early to help, given that she and Ralphie were both too short to hang the streamers from the ceiling.
So now they were all sitting around on the comfy couches, chairs, and beanbags that filled the Ternelli’s basement, eating cake and other assorted snacks, and half-heartedly arguing about what movie they should watch.
“What does being 18 years old even mean, really?” asked Arnold philosophically, “We don’t live in Europe, it’s not like we can drink now.”
“You wouldn’t drink even if it was legal, Arn,” said Ralphie from the beanbag, where he was tossing popcorn into the air and trying, mostly unsuccessfully, to catch it in his mouth.
“And it’s not even a major election year,” Arnold continued, ignoring Ralphie’s comment, “So much for doing my civic duty.”
“Hey! Local elections are just as important, if not more, than state and federal ones,” protested Dorothy Ann, plucking a misaimed piece of Ralphie’s popcorn off her sweater.
“I know, I know, DA. Municipal government just doesn’t have the same…spark, you know? It’s not what you spend your whole life looking forward to voting on.”
“Most people don’t spend their whole lives looking forward to any kind of voting,” said Carlos, through a mouthful of cake.
“Look on the brightside,” said Wanda, violently brandishing her fork in Arnold’s direction and spraying the coffee table with crumbs, “You can buy a knife now!”
“I’m not gonna buy a knife.”
“Yeah, but you could . You know, if you weren’t such a weasley wimp.”
“Thanks, Wanda. Really feeling the birthday love right now.”
“I got you a present, didn’t I?” she snarked, turning her fork towards the small pile of wrapped packages sitting beside the cake.
“I hope it’s a knife,” said Ralphie, and Wanda grinned mischievously.
“But Wanda… you don't turn 18 until June,” Phoebe pointed out.
Slowly, everyone turned towards Wanda, eyes suspicious. “How would she get a knife?” Keesha whispered to Tim, as though they all weren’t sitting a few feet apart and could hear everything that was said.
“I have my ways,” said Wanda flatly, crossing her arms and sitting up straighter in her seat. “Okay, it’s not a knife,” she admitted, catching the worried look on Arnold’s face, “But if it had been, I would’ve had my ways.”
Everyone laughed, even Tim, who was feeling so anxious that he hadn’t said a word in several minutes. Anywhere else, that wouldn’t necessarily have been a strange occurrence, but when he was around his best friends he was usually much more gregarious, more honestly himself than he could be around other people. Tonight, though, he could barely make himself speak. His throat seemed to have become as arid as the desert, and all his courage had dried up along with it.
He’d been planning this for the past week, ever since Ralphie had successfully promposed to Keesha. Well, really he’d been planning it for years, constantly making plans and then making up excuses for himself to put them off, to wait just a little bit longer. But this time, he was really going to do it. He knew it wasn’t fair to Arnold to do it now, to steal his moment that way. But he had to do it before Prom, and this was the only time he knew for sure he’d have all his friends together in a private environment before then. And Arnold had said he was okay with Tim making an ‘announcement’ when he’d asked earlier, though this sort of thing probably wasn’t what he’d had in mind.
So he waited. He waited as Ralphie expanded his popcorn catch game to include the Ternelli’s dog, Scout, until a poorly aimed kernel nearly sent Scout flying into the snack table and popped several of Phoebe’s carefully placed balloons, so Keesha made him stop. He waited as Wanda shoved Arnold’s face into his slice of cake (“It’s tradition!”), and then as Phoebe spent several minutes delicately cleaning him up with a party napkin. He waited as they listened to DA and Carlos continue their earlier debate about whether they should watch How to Train Your Dragon or Lego Batman . Arnold, wisely, brought peace back to the group by selecting a third option; Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again , so then Tim waited through all 114 minutes of that. He waited as they watched Arnold open his presents.
He unwrapped a Himalayan salt lamp from Keesha, the Lord of the Rings extended edition DVD set from Ralphie, and a new faux leather messenger bag containing a handknitted yellow scarf and matching pair of gloves from Phoebe. Carlos had gotten him a massive vintage Molly Cule poster (“It’s, like, 75% a joke. Pretty cule though, right?”) and Wanda’s present, while not as potentially humorous as a knife, was still very well received; a custom set of dice made to match the outfit Arnold’s player character wore in their group D&D campaign. DA’s gift was, of course, a book, but it was a book about the birth of modern geology, so Arnold seemed very happy with it. And then, finally, he opened Max Richter’s newest classical music CD from Tim, and a thrifted Walkman to play it on.
“I thought it would help show off how cool you actually are to the other college kids,” he managed to say, “Trust me, no one else at Duke will be walking to class with something like that.”
“Neither will anyone from this century,” muttered Carlos, before DA elbowed him in the side. “Oh, I mean, neat!”
“I prefer to stick out from the mainstream rather than blend into it,” said Tim, defending his choice. Then, suddenly, as the eyes of all his friends swivled casually over to face him as he spoke, he knew his moment had come. He was either going to do this now, or he was never going to do it at all. “Actually, uh, speaking of that,” he paused, and coughed into his hand several times, trying to shake the tense sandy feeling out of his throat, “I had something I wanted to tell you guys. Arnold, can I?”
Arnold looked up from DA’s book, which he’d already started reading, and nodded politely.
“I’m, uh, not going to take a girl to Prom. I’m, well, I’m not taking anyone. I don’t really like girls. Not the way most guys do, anyway. I like…I like boys. Not any specific boy, just in general. I’m not taking one to Prom, but if I knew one I really liked I would have. But anyway, yeah. I’m gay. I just thought you guys should know.” With that, Tim trailed off into silence, eyes still fixed to the floor.
Phoebe was the first to speak. “Thank you for telling us,” she began cautiously, “I– We love you very much, and always will. You’re our best friend, and we’re very proud of that fact, and proud of you, no matter what. Or at least I am, but if anyone isn’t I’ll ask them to leave,” she finished, unusally firmly.
Finally, Tim looked up, scanning his friend’s faces. Ralphie looked politely bemused, Keesha was giving him gentle, encouraging eyes and a soft smile, Arnold was nodding to himself like he was thinking through every past interaction they’d had and making things line up, DA and Carlos were glancing at each other, clearly having a silent conversation with their eyes (Something along the lines of; “Huh, I had no idea. Did you?” “I suspected, but no, not for sure.” “Good for him.” “Yeah, good for him.”), Wanda was picking cracked polish off her nails nonchalantly, but looked up and gave Tim a proud nod when he reached her, and Phoebe was just beaming, like she couldn’t have received better news.
“Thanks,” Tim told her, trying to communicate far beyond the words themselves.
When the silence had settled into something more comfortable, Carlos slowly raised his hand. “Are you taking questions?” he asked.
“I suppose,” Tim sighed, pretending to be more exasperated than he actually was. Mostly he was just relieved that no one had scoffed at him, or said he was making the choice to lead a life of sin, or stormed out of the room in disgust, or done any of the dozens of terrible things he’d read about in stories online and seen on television dramas.
“And this isn’t to, like, try and discredit your identity or anything, I’d just like some clarification.” Tim nodded, and he continued. “What about that crush you had on Phoebe in middle school? What was up with that?”
“The what ?” Phoebe and Arnold repeated in unison.
“Oh, maybe that was something I was told in private,” Carlos realized, and Tim laughed, relieved to receive a question for which he had an easy answer.
“Ohhh, I think I remember that,” said Ralphie, scratching his head in thought, “Didn’t you tell us during a game of truth or dare on the boy’s camping trip?”
“You were already asleep,” Tim said to Arnold, “But yeah, I lied about that. You all had started talking about girls all the time, and I never had anything to contribute. I was sure that if I didn’t come up with a girl to like, and soon, you would think there was something wrong with me and stop wanting to be my friend. But I could never make myself feel anything romantic towards a girl, no matter how hard I tried. So I decided to make up a crush, to keep everyone off my back, and I picked Phoebe. You’re non-threatening,” he told her with a shrug.
“Oh. Well, in that case, I’m honored,” she said, giving him a typically bright smile.
“But we’re sorry you ever felt like you had to lie to us about stuff like that,” added Arnold.
Tim shrugged again. “That’s life.”
“But it shouldn’t have to be,” said DA forcefully, “The world should be better than that.”
Ralphie raised his right hand in a version of a Boy Scout swear; “And I will do my part to make the world better by never again assuming that you want to ask a girl to Prom.”
Keesha laughed. “That’s lucky for you. If I could have gone to Prom with Tim, knowing he wouldn’t try to sneak in wearing a baseball cap…let's just say you wouldn’t have stood a chance.” Ralphie scowled, and she blew a kiss to him from across the room.
Everyone else broke down into giggles, and Tim smiled wider than he had in months.
“We should do something exciting to celebrate,” said Wanda, rubbing her hands together like she was coming up with a plan, “Ooh, I know! We could-”
“We are not breaking into our old elementary school and stealing the light based rainbow pinball machine,” said DA, before Wanda could even finish speaking.
“How did you know that’s what I was gonna say?”
“It was written all over your face.”
“That is such a specific facial expression to be able to read,” said Ralphie.
“Do you guys ever think we might spend a little bit too much time together?” asked Arnold, laughing.
Tim looked around at all his friends; who knew him more thoroughly and truthfully than anyone else in the world, and who loved and accepted every part without hesitation. “No. Not at all,” he said, genuinely.
Text Messages between Wanda Li and Tim Jamall, April 19th, 10:37 pm
Wanda: yo
Wanda: congrats on the gay thing
Wanda: i bet it took major balls to tell us all at once like that
Tim: I mean, better to do it once than seven different times, if you ask me. But thanks.
Wanda: so do you wanna go thrifting with me tomorrow ?
Wanda: i’m looking for a prom dress that’ll be a perfect combination of formal enough to get in, but sexy enough to piss off my mom
Tim: Sure. I’ve been meaning to look for a pair of dress shoes anyway.
Wanda: rad. i’ll pick u up at noon
Tim: Sounds good to me.
“You know, just because I’m out to you guys now doesn't mean I’m suddenly imbued with fashion knowledge from the gays come before,” said Tim, climbing into Wanda’s 2005 Ford Mustang at ten past twelve that next morning.
“I know that, dummy,” said Wanda. Then she started her car with its old scratched-up key and pulled out of the driveway at a much higher speed than Tim would have deemed safe. “But it does mean we have some things to talk about.”
Tim sighed. He’d half-expected something like this, and knew that he had to put his foot down quickly and firmly. “I don’t want to answer any weird sex questions you might have. If you arranged this whole trip just to interview me about my private life, then I can get out right here.”
“Jesus, Tim, no, that’s not what I mean,” said Wanda, speeding past the stop sign at the end of the street, barely slowing down. Tim noticed that she was gripping the wheel very tightly. The scabs on her knuckles looked close to breaking open. “I just meant like…” Wanda gave a heavy sigh and sat in silence for a long moment. “It gives us something in common.”
“Oh,” said Tim.
“Yeah,” Wanda whispered. “Oh.”
“So you’re...uh?
“Bi. I think. I’m not really sure. But I know I like girls.” She gripped the steering wheel even harder. One of the scabs on her right hand split open, revealing raw pink skin and several large drops of blood, which Wanda put to her mouth and licked off before they dripped onto the car’s upholstery.
“That’s uh…” Tim wasn’t really sure what to say. Maybe this was some sort of cosmic karma, making him experience the same awkwardness he’d put his friends in the day before. “That’s great.”
Wanda gave him a dry smile, but said nothing. The car zoomed through another intersection in a highly illegal manner.
“If...if I’m allowed to ask, how long have you known?”
“I dunno. A couple years maybe. I mean, deep down I always knew there was something, but like, knowing the language to express it? Maybe 7th or 8th grade.”
“How come you never said anything, then? You’re always so...I dunno, confident.”
Wanda turned to face him. Tim wished she’d keep her eyes on the road, but didn’t think this was the best time to correct her. “Dude, have you seen Walkerville? It’s not exactly pride parade central.”
“We have a GSA…” Tim muttered.
“Have you ever gone?” Wanda asked pointedly.
“Well, no. There’s like 4 members, and they’re all furries, I’m pretty sure.”
“Exactly. How was I supposed to know if there was any safe place to be openly gay in Walkerville? And that’s not even mentioning my family. If I told my mom that I liked girls, she’d like, conduct a meeting with the ancestors and pray for them to remove ‘the curse’ from me or something. And my grandparents would want me on the first plane out to China, to have me meet a nice Chinese boy from a good family and get married before I could even think of touching a woman.” Wanda laughed bitterly at her own comments. “But I don’t really care about my family’s approval, that’s obvious in everything about me.” She gestured at her outfit, which today, consisted of a leather jacket, a tight white tank top, red miniskirt, ripped fishnet stockings, and black platform Doc Martens. Her ears glinted with multiple piercings, the most notable of which were silver earrings shaped like safety pins. At least, Tim hoped they were just shaped like safety pins. He wouldn’t put it past Wanda to go sticking real safety pins in her ears in the name of fashion. Looking at the whole ensemble, Tim thought he could hear Teenagers by MCR playing softly in the background.
“What I really care about is you guys, my friends,” she said. “And I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. I mean, it took you coming out for me to even see that our friends were gonna be supportive. And even then, bi and gay are two different things. You never know who's gonna be down with one and against the other.”
“That’s fair, I guess. But come on, they’re our friends, you couldn’t have thought they’d be homophobes.” Tim’s only concern with coming out had been the reactions of people outside his friend group, never his friends themselves.
“Sometimes people can surprise you. And if even one of you wasn’t gonna support me, I didn’t want to risk it.”
“We’re all liberal, aren’t we?” Tim started counting their friends on his fingers. “Arnold’s mom is a Democrat state senator, plus he’s Jewish. Phoebe’s an environmentalist who can’t stomach the idea of anyone being treated badly. Carlos is a first-generation immigrant with a disabled brother. Keesha’s a Black woman who’s experienced low-income housing, I’m Black and gay, and D.A. is a socialist, for crying out loud!”
Wanda nodded along to all of this, eyes back on the road finally.
“And then Ralphie...” Tim stopped himself.
“And then Ralphie.” Wanda agreed softly, as if this had been her entire point. “I’m terrified that if I come out, he won’t believe bisexuality is a real thing, or he’ll say I’m just a straight girl doing this for attention, or that I’m a lesbian who’s too scared to commit, or that I can’t like having sex with girls because I had sex with him, and he’s a boy, or….or any of the other dozens of terrible things people say about bisexual women on a daily basis.”
“You and Ralphie had sex?” Tim asked before he could stop himself.
Wanda nodded.
“Does...does Keesha know?” he asked, slowly.
“Yeah. When I heard that Ralphie was planning to ask her out, I cornered him in an alley behind the skate shop, and told him that if he hid something important like that from her, I’d break into his house, steal his baseball card collection, and throw it into the Walkerville river.” She swerved around another turn, a slight gleam in her eyes as though she was enjoying reliving the moment. “And that I’d punch him in the dick,” she added.
“I’d say remind me not to get on your bad side, but that’s something I’ve known not to do since the day we met.”
“I’m thinking of having Phoebe embroider me a cushion. ‘Don’t get on Wanda Li’s bad side’. Maybe a little drawing of a fist on there. I think it would look nice on my living room couch.”
“It would certainly add to the feng shui,” Tim agreed, grinning. “But about the Ralphie thing. I know he’s not...the most open-minded person we know, but he’s learning. And I don’t think he’d say anything like that to you. He cares about you. And anyway, if he did say anything like that, Carlos and I would jump him.”
“Well, it’s not a chance I’m going to take. Not yet at least,” Wanda said firmly, pulling into a parking lot. They’d reached the thrift store. Tim had thought it would take longer to get here, but he hadn’t factored in Wanda’s utterly reckless driving. “But thanks for the support.” She smiled gently at him and turned off the car. “I never thought that out of the two of us, I’d be the weaselly wimp,” she sighed, unbuckling her seatbelt.
“Hey. It’s not wimpy not to come out,” said Tim firmly, turning towards her. “It’s your choice, when, where, how, and even if you do it. And having done it doesn’t make you any more or less brave, or any more or less proud of who you are.” Tim knew that Wanda hated sappy stuff like this, but he kept talking anyway, because he knew his friend needed to hear this right now. “And hey, you did come out today, without being completely sure how it would go, which took guts. And for what it’s worth, I’m really proud of you.”
Wanda smiled, and in a rare moment of tenderness, reached across the gearshift and hugged Tim. “Thank you,” she muttered into his jacket. They both sat there for a while, enjoying the moment, before Wanda pulled away. “Now, do you think this store has any dresses that would go well with a leather jacket?”
Text Messages between Wanda Li and Tim Jamall, April 20th, 5:27 pm
Wanda: thanks for, you know, today
Tim: Of course, anytime. I had fun.
Wanda: i think
Wanda: i think im gonna talk to keesha
Tim: About the gay thing?
Wanda: yeah, about the gay thing
Tim: That’s very brave of you.
Wanda: you know, you can stop the whole walking on eggshells thing. im not gonna break if you cant come up with the perfect PC thing to say
Tim: I just want to support you correctly!
Wanda: dont worry, its cute
Wanda: but you can bring it down like several notches
Tim: I’ll try.
Tim: When are you gonna talk to her?
Wanda: thought i’d text her tonight and ask her to get coffee with me tomorrow
Tim: That sounds like a good plan. Will you tell me how it goes?
Wanda: of course
Wanda: thanks again for everything, tim
Tim: No problem.
Half an Hour Later:
Tim: Hey, Wanda?
Wanda: yeah?
Tim: I love you.
Wanda: i know.
Wanda: i love you too.