In the Passenger Seat

Roy sat stiffly in the passenger seat, hands folded in his lap like he was bracing for turbulence.

Next to him, Tabitha drove with one hand on the wheel and the other drumming excitedly on the armrest, her whole body vibrating with energy. She had the window cracked despite the cool morning air, music filling the car. Tegan and Sara played through the speakers, familiar and surreal all at once.

She was smiling. Not a polite smile. Not a tentative one. The kind of comfortable smile of a person who is delighted to be in the situation they find themselves.

Roy stared straight ahead, heart pounding.

What the hell had just happened?

An hour ago, he had been sitting at Charlotte's table, drinking coffee and quietly panicking. He had been convinced she was having some kind of mental health crisis. Convinced that her acceptance of him, her affection, the way she had pulled him into her life so effortlessly, had to be some kind of delusion. He had lain awake in her bed the night before, terrified that he was taking advantage of her, that he was doing something unforgivable without meaning to.

And now, suddenly, he was Tabitha's boyfriend.

Charlotte's sister. A woman who, by her own aesthetic, should not have given Roy a second thought. He was pretty sure, in fact, that she probably wouldn't have given any man a second thought.

Maybe he was the one having a mental health crisis.

The thought landed hard and refused to move. Maybe his brain had finally cracked under the pressure. Maybe this was what it looked like when reality stopped lining up properly. Maybe he was dissociating in real time, inventing an alternate version of his life because the real one had become unbearable.

Or maybe someone, or something, had heard him.

The idea crept in uninvited. The memory of that quiet, **** wish he had made on the worst day of his life, whispered into a glass of whiskey. The absurdity of it. The childishness. The way he had immediately felt foolish afterward.

He swallowed.

It would have been enough to deal with all the bullshit of Tom Burgess slowly strangling his career. The clock was ticking, the threat was real. Roy should be planning, maneuvering, trying to find a way out of his predicament. Instead, he found himself unexpectedly and inexplicably distracted by relationships that he had never signed up for. The universe had taken his life, flipped it upside down, and started shaking.

He glanced sideways at Tabitha.

She was beautiful in a completely different way than Charlotte. Where Charlotte had been calm and luminous, like she belonged in a magazine spread or a runway show, Tabitha was heat and motion. Short, spiky blonde hair. Tattoos disappearing under the sleeves of her shirt. Torn jeans. A restless energy that filled the car.

She looked at him and grinned.

"God, I am so glad we are doing this," she said, like the words had been building pressure in her chest. "I've been thinking about this all week."

Roy managed a weak smile. "The cabin?"

"The cabin. Us. Everything," she said easily.

He nodded, unsure what else to do.

They drove in silence for a minute, music humming between them. His thoughts churned.

Being with Charlotte had felt like stepping into a fantasy that was never meant for him. Beautiful, rich, confident. Someone who looked at him like he was desirable. Losing his virginity to her had felt less like sex and more like being allowed into paradise for a night. Something gentle and unreal and impossibly kind.

And now Charlotte had already slipped away, replaced by her sister, who seemed even more certain that he belonged to her. It had been a shock to see Charlotte's eyes, which minutes earlier had been staring at him doe-eyed, look at him without recognition. It was more than unsettling, it was haunting.

The car slowed as they turned onto his street.

"Oh," Tabitha said. "We should stop here so you can grab stuff."

He blinked. "You know where I live."

She laughed. "Of course I do."

Of course she did.

Inside his apartment, everything felt smaller than it had that morning. He threw clothes into a bag without thinking, hands moving on autopilot. Tabitha leaned against the counter, watching him with open affection, like she was memorizing the shape of him in his own space.

When he zipped the bag closed, she crossed the room in two strides and kissed him.

It was different. Charlotte's kisses had been hungry but careful, like she was discovering something precious. Tabitha kissed like a spark jumping a wire. Her tongue ring clicked softly against his teeth, surprising him, her energy frantic and bright and alive.

He laughed nervously when she pulled back. She kissed him again anyway.

Back in the car, her stuff already filled the back. Camping gear, duffel bags, a cooler. She pulled onto the highway, the city slowly thinning out behind them.

The land opened up. Trees. Fields. Sky.

A sigh escaped her lips as she rested her hand on his thigh, her eyes still fixed on the road. Roy's body tensed automatically. Not because he didn't want the touch, but because everything about this felt wrong and right at the same time.

"You know," she said, glancing at him, "I can't believe how much you've changed my life."

He turned to her. "I have?"

"Completely," she said, without hesitation. "I never even thought about being with a guy before you. Like, ever. I was so sure of myself. And then you just..." She laughed, shaking her head. "I don't know. You rewired something in me."

His stomach dropped. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but she kept talking, curious now, playful.

"So what's it actually like?" she asked. "Hetero sex, I mean. Is it weird? I've seen it in, like, porn. But I've never felt a, you know, cock inside me," she paused, then, "What's it like having a penis? Are you always aware of it? Like, just hanging out there? Rubbing against your clothes?"

He flushed so hard his ears burned.

"I... uh..." he said, then stopped, then tried again. "It's just... normal. I guess."

She laughed. "That is the least helpful answer possible. Maybe I should just try to figure things out on my own."

Her hand slid higher, curiosity guiding it, a playful smirk on her face.

Panic cut through him, sharp and sudden. The idea of his wish doing this, of changing someone so fundamentally, made his chest tighten. She didn't even like men, and he'd turned her into some sort of Roy-crazy hetero-slut! He reached down quickly, catching her hand and threading his fingers through hers, stopping the motion without pushing her away.

She looked at him, surprised, then softened.

"Hey," she said gently. "It's okay. I was only teasing."

He nodded, heart racing. "I just... maybe later."

She squeezed his hand instead, affectionate and easy, like the intimacy hadn't been broken, only redirected.

The road narrowed. The fields gave way to trees again. A small town appeared ahead, little more than a cluster of buildings and a gas station.

"Oh," Tabitha said, easing off the accelerator. "We need to stop for gas."

Roy watched the sign roll closer, the pump numbers flickering in the distance, and wondered vaguely how he was going to get through the weekend with his morals intact.