Page 45 of In the Middle of No(ah)where
"I love you, too. More than you can imagine." Marcus whispers.
My heart floats out of my chest, and I lock my lips with his. Again.
"Take me home and make love to me. I think I've earned a reward for this test." I declare.
"Yes. You did."
???
The following month passes just the same. Juggling work and school. Marcus has been fulfilling his promise and meets me a few hours before my exams, sending me flying into subspace. It'sincredible how calm I get before the exam. Following the exams, I head home and sink into a state of middle space with Carlos. We hang out with Marcus and Jasper watching over us. Like tonight.
The four of us are sitting around the kitchen table in our apartment, and the new game Daddy bought promiseshours of family fun!Daddy even purchased the deluxe edition of "Conquer the Farm," complete with miniature catapults that launch tiny, realistic plastic sheep. I think it's hilarious. Daddy said it's slightly terrifying.
Carlos launches a sheep directly into my meticulously planned supply of apples from the orchard, destroying them.
"Hey!" I shriek, launching myself dramatically backward. "That's cheating! Those sheep were strategically positioned to maximize my harvest!"
Daddy, mid-sip of his beer, chokes on my dramatics.
"They weren't strategically positioned; they were in the way of my hay bale maze." Liam retorted, his voice dripping with nine-year-old sarcasm. "Besides, it's whoever can conjure the most land…not dumb apples."
"There are rules!" I yell back, grabbing my own catapult. "Rule number one: don't launch livestock into your opponent's apples! Rule number two: don't be a total–" I trail off, searching for the perfect insult.
Daddy and Jasper clear their throats simultaneously.
"Boys," Jasper says, his voice a low rumble that suggests a spaceship is about to take off.
"Let's keep it civil. This is supposed to be fun," Daddy tells us.
Carlos snorts. "Fun? This is exciting! I'm about to conquer Noah's pathetic little section of apple hoarding acreage with my superior agricultural skills and well-aimed sheep!"
"Your skills involve sheep-based aggression!" I counter. My face turned a magnificent shade of red apple.
The game continues with a series of increasingly aggressive sheep launches, strategic resource stealing, and muttered immature insults. I desperately want to hurl my game piece–a rather glum-looking farmer with a plastic straw hat–directly at his head.
Daddy attempts to mediate, which involves a complicated explanation of fair play that goes completely in one ear and out the other. Jasper ended up refereeing the rest of the game, which is not in the rule book, by issuing penalties for a lost turn, which were constantly disputed by both Carlos and me.
The final straw came when Carlos"accidentally"knocked over my two silos, which in turn fell onto my orchard, and each tree acted like a domino piece, with a mighty sheep launch. My whole section of the farm was destroyed with scattered plastic trees and miniature apples all over the game board.
I exploded.
"That's it!" I screamed, tears welling up. "I'm not playing anymore!"
Daddy sighed, and Carlos surprisingly looked sheepish. Pun entirely intended.
Jasper and Daddy realize that the 'Hours of Family Fun' has devolved into a miniature warzone between me and Carlos.
The consequences? No dessert. Now I'm even madder at Carlos because Orange Sherbet is my favorite. Daddy sends me to my room for five minutes to think about my reaction. Jasper gets sent to his room, too.
When we came out, Carlos apologized for attacking my section of the farm and said it wasn't part of the game and that he had just gotten carried away. I told him it was okay and gave him a hug.
We still didn't get dessert.
I certainly learned my lesson: some games are best left unconquered. Especially when miniature livestock are involved.
???
Interactions with my classmates are a mixed bag. Some are friendly, curious, and welcoming. They ask about my interests, listen to my stories from Steamed and Life with Marcus, and treat me with genuine respect. Others are more reserved and distant, their interactions polite but superficial. Luckily, I haven't run into students who have been openly hostile toward me. Some group members have mentioned in our LGBTQ+ meeting about being victims of openly hostile students on campus whose glances are laced with judgment. I can't imagine. Hearing their stories makes me feel vulnerable and exposed—and not in a good way. This is a sharp contrast to the safety and acceptance I find with Marcus and my group of friends.
