Page 6 of Bi-Partisan

Fine

Chapter 3

Jamie

Song: Clearest Blue – CHVRCHES

My watch tells me it’s a quarter past eight when Mina and Chloe knock on the door to my second-floor converted apartment. “It’s open,” I call out from my thrifted pleather sofa as I finish tying my shoe.

Mina skips a proper greeting as she lets herself into my living room. “I know they don’t lock their doors in the south, but this is DC. You’re going to get yourself axe murdered.”

I roll my eyes and stand, making my way past Mina to give her girlfriend Chloe a hug. “Chloe, lovely to see you as always,” I say, the Southern drawl I usually try to keep more muted slipping through. “I hope you’re not hiding an axe under that coat.”

“Not tonight,” Chloe replies dryly. “But I do have a machete in my purse.”

I grin and turn to Mina. “I unlocked the door when I heard you downstairs with Mrs. Carter—who, for the record, would have to let the axe murderer in for them to get to me. Also, the door locking thing is a Southern stereotype.”

“Sure, sure,” Mina says, waving a dismissive hand. “Well, you definitely look better rested, but is that really what you’re wearing?”

I frown and look down at my outfit—black jeans, white button-down with the top two buttons undone, brown oxfords, and an emerald green blazer. It’s the same one she and Chloe had picked out for me the last time I went on a date. Admittedly, that was a long time ago, but the date had gone relatively well, so I figured I looked good in it. “You picked this out,” I remind her.

“Yes, for a date with a woman,” Mina says. “If you’re really trying to attract the attention of a man in a queer club, you need to look a little less like a straight, white congressman.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I am, in fact, a white congressman,” I say with a smirk, but I guess she has a point. I won’t admit it out loud, but this wasn’t exactly my first choice of what to wear tonight. But after spending most of the day changing about thirty times and, embarrassingly, even looking up any advice Queer Eye might have, I defaulted to this.

“Alright, then what do you suggest I wear?”

Mina turns to Chloe who is already giving me an appraising look. “Love?”

“Spin real quick,” she says, doing a little circle motion with her finger. I hesitate, then do a slow spin, and she hums. “Okay, well we definitely have to lose the shirt, but you can keep the jeans. Do you have ankle boots?”

I nod. I don’t wear them often, but I have them.

“Wear those and cuff your jeans a little.”

“Isn’t that a stereotype?” I ask.

“Yeah, but an accurate one. Can I look in your closet?”

I nod again, and Chloe heads past me, her heels echoing on the hardwood as she disappears down the hall to my bedroom. My mild nerves from earlier creep in again, so I busy myself with getting boots from the entryway closet and cuffing my jeans like Chloe instructed. I’m sitting on the couch, focused on my shoes when I feel the cushion dip next to me.

“How are you feeling?” Mina asks. I glance up questioningly. “I can basically feel the anxiety rolling off you,” she adds.

I take a deep breath. “I’m a little nervous. But I’ll be fine.”

“You know you don’t have to do anything, right? I know what I said about attracting a man’s attention, but you don’t have to. You don’t have to have any experience with a gender to prove you’re attracted to that gender. Plenty of bisexual people only ever have relationships with one gender. That doesn’t make them any less bi,” she says gently.

I sit back up and idly trace the slight cracks in the pleather cushion. “I know. This isn’t really about proving anything as much as it is just allowing myself to exist. Even if tonight ends up only being us hanging out in a queer bar, I feel like the knowledge that I’m not there as the token straight friend will help me feel a little less…”

“Confused?” she supplies.

“Yeah, I think that’s the closest word,” I say. “Isolated, maybe.”

“Yeah, I can understand that. Just don’t force anything, alright?”

“I won’t,” I promise.

She reaches out and squeezes my knee as Chloe re-emerges from the bedroom with a black button-down. She tosses it in my general direction, and I recognize it as the silk one from my vampire Halloween costume a few months ago. I can’t help giving her a skeptical look.

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