Well, at least there was some good news as far as the whole Scions situation was concerned. Of the seven candidates they’d had lined up to fill their ranks with, all had either been apprehended or, in Whamline’s case… killed. And one of the actual Scions, Box, had been taken in as well. Eight psychopaths had been taken off the board before they could do nearly as much damage as they were capable of.

Honestly, yeah, that whole thing wasn’t nearly as bad as it could’ve been. The very fact that they’d had seven ‘new’ Touched they could have unleashed on the city at this point could have been completely catastrophic. If they’d all worked together at the same time, with Pencil actually directing them through all of it with his particular brand of callous evil? I didn’t even want to think about how that would’ve gone.

Actually, I didn’t want to think about how it would’ve gone if those other two new Touched, Facs and Yeet, hadn’t been around and escaped to come find me. Or if they had never been given the address of the shop, though at least in that case there were other options of people they could have gone to for help. There were just so many ways that this entire situation could have ended up being an indescribable tragedy, it made me shudder. What if I had never made it there? What if the Scions had actually managed to follow through on their intentions and I lost both my friend in Amber, and my brand new sister in Izzy? Oh God, and Eits and Pack too. They were there. They would’ve--I would have lost all four of them. My friends and my sister. I would’ve… they…

I didn’t want to think about it. Unfortunately, my subconscious didn’t tend to take my input into consideration when deciding what it would dwell on obsessively. So, for a long time after Izzy fell asleep, I did just that. I lay in that bed with her, not really watching what was on the television. Instead, I worried. I dwelled. I held my sister gently to avoid waking her up, closed my eyes, and imagined all the different ways everything that had happened today could have gone worse. I didn’t want to, I tried not to, but it happened anyway. Fortunately, I was also exhausted, so I fell asleep at some point. And, miracle of miracles, I didn’t have a nightmare about that.

No, I dreamt about something very different. In this dream, I was a boy. An actual biological boy. And as Paintball, I posed as a girl, because people tended to mistake me for one. It was the complete opposite of the current situation. I used a voice changer to sound more feminine, my suit was… ahh, slightly padded to give off that sort of impression, and I just embraced the disguise in general. Oh, and I had a cape. I wasn’t sure what that was about or what it had to do with the whole being a boy thing. Maybe I just subconsciously wanted a cape or something.

Either way, it was a very elaborate dream. Well, as elaborate as dreams could be. It still skipped a lot of details and bounced around through various scenes without much rhyme or reason. But the gist was there. I was a boy who posed as a girl to be Paintball. Toward the end, my family was yelling at me about being a boy. I had the impression that it was supposed to be a very dramatic moment, but I was mostly still confused about where they had come from, considering moments earlier I had been fighting some weird mix of Cuélebre, Juice, and my math teacher from Freshman year. The scene had shifted without any warning to jump straight to my family having a yelling match in our backyard, and it had something to do with me being a boy so I couldn’t really be Paintball. Also there was a little bird that kept landing on my shoulder and pecking my arm while I was trying to have a serious conversation with my parents.

Finally, my eyes opened as I gave a slight start. The thing poking up against my arm repeatedly wasn’t a bird. It was the vertical blinds over the nearby window. There was a fan in a corner of the room, and every time it rotated a bit toward that window, the air caught the blinds and made them move. So a couple kept bouncing back to bump against my arm as it dangled off the bed.

Well, that explained the whole bird poking thing. And I didn’t really need that much help interpreting the rest of the dream. Understanding what to do with the information, yes, but not interpreting it. But either way, I wasn’t going to get much more from laying there. All I would end up doing was wake up Izzy, and she needed her rest. Which--yes, it sounded odd to say that she needed to recover from a biological attack that had put her into a coma by sleeping, but still. The doctors had insisted that it was flushed out of her system and now her body just needed time to get back to normal.

So, I very carefully extracted myself from her for the moment and slipped out of the room while looking at my phone. It was almost seven o’clock at night on a Friday. Perfect for dating. As if I had any time for that, or anyone who was interested.

Oh boy, yeah that was really a thought I’d needed to have right then. Sighing softly, I slipped the phone into my pocket and closed the door quietly behind me so Izzy wouldn’t be disturbed. For a moment, I just stood there in that hallway and took a deep breath. What was I supposed to do now, just go home? Something told me Simon was going to be busy with secret Ministry stuff for awhile, and it wasn’t like our parents were there to wonder about me. I just… I had to get out and do something else. I wasn’t sure what, but something.

At first I thought I’d head over to Wren’s shop to check in with the others, but I’d barely made it off the Seraph grounds and started to request an Uber before belatedly realizing I was about to use my Touched phone for that instead of my personal phone. Before I could put that away and switch to the other one, I noticed a text that had come in about an hour earlier from an unknown number. It read, ‘Mind having a chat? - Grateful Baseball Enthusiast.’

Eits. Eits wanted to chat, which meant he was awake and active again. A rush of relief ran through me, as I sent him a message apologizing for missing him earlier and letting him know we could meet somewhere if he wanted. Thankfully, he responded immediately and said we could get some dinner at this fast Italian place if I didn’t mind showing up as a civilian. He promised he’d be alone and that none of the other La Casa people knew where he was going or had any reason to follow. Apparently they were pretty focused on other things now that he and Broadway were out of the woods.

So, I took an Uber after all. But instead of heading for the shop, I sent a message letting the others know I was up and would be around later, then gave the driver the address of that restaurant. It was probably a good thing anyway, my stomach was complaining at me. Especially now that the idea of food had been brought up.

The restaurant really was a hole in the wall sort of place. It was a corner building with yellowish-white paint that was heavily chipped, and there was barely a sign for it. It wasn’t even the restaurant’s name or anything, the sign just said, ‘Ristorante.’ Italian for restaurant. Oh, and the entrance was literally just a simple white screen door like most people had on the front of their houses.

Still, it was definitely the right place. I paid the driver and then stepped through that door. The restaurant was a bit bigger inside than it looked like from out front, but still not exactly huge. There was enough room for about ten booths, six to the left and four to the right, along with a bar straight ahead. Several of the tables to the left were full, but only one person was using any of the tables to the right. The person I was there to meet, as a matter of fact.

“Uh, hey Ryder,” I greeted him while moving to sit opposite the boy. This was weird, right? Yes, he knew who I really was, and he’d done an incredible job of keeping that to himself. But still, I wasn’t exactly sure why he wanted to meet.

“Hi, Cass,” he replied, holding out a menu. “Get whatever you like, my treat.” Immediately after saying that, he amended, “I mean, not that you really need that or anything. It’s just that I invited you here so I should probably pay for the--I mean if you’re hungry. Or if you even like Italian. This place is good. If you do, I mean. And then we can go--I mean we can get it to go. You know, so we can talk somewhere that isn’t--I’m gonna shut up now.” His face had turned more and more pink throughout that.

Snickering despite myself, I gave him a slightly reassuring nod. “Don't worry, I like Italian just fine. Believe me, I couldn't grow up with my mother and not like it. I would've died of starvation a long time ago.” Looking down, I muttered something under my breath about how that would’ve solved a lot of my problems. Then I blanched at myself before quickly looking up once more to see the boy recoiling. “Sorry, I didn't mean that. There's just a lot going on. Not that I have to tell you that.” We couldn’t go into details right there, of course. But still, I asked, “Are you okay?”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

His head bobbed quickly. “Yup, right as rain.” Then he indicated the menu. “You should try their lasagna, if you don’t have anything else convincing you life is worth living, getting a chance to have more of that stuff should do the trick.”

That was as good of a recommendation as any so we ordered a couple pieces of that plus drinks to go, before sitting there to wait for about ten minutes. We couldn’t talk about anything serious or secret, so we ended up simply discussing that old cartoon I’d been watching with Izzy earlier. It turned out Ryder had some opinions about how some popular sites shipped a couple of the characters together when (according to him), those particular ships didn’t make any sense at all. I was barely a casual fan, so I mostly just listened while he went on an extensive diatribe about the whole thing. It was actually kind of funny to just sit there and hear him get worked up. And, to be honest, I was pretty sure he was hamming it up a bit just to make me snicker.

But eventually we had our food, and made our way out. A few minutes later, the two of us used a fire escape to reach an old greenhouse on the roof of an apartment building. It didn’t look like anyone had used this place for awhile, so we would have privacy here.

“Okay,” I started while digging my fork into the pile of cheese, sauce, meat, and noodles, “so what’s going on? What’s the big--mmmmphhhmm….” My eyes gave a double-take at the plastic container. “Okay, you weren’t kidding, that’s incredible.” I took another bite and slumped back. “Oooh, I needed this.”

“Told ya,” he replied with a smirk, before giving his own soft murmur of appreciation after his first bite. “Wait, why did I want to talk to--oh right, well first I wanted to say thanks. You know, for helping save us from a terrible death. And the whole cure thing.”

“Well obviously if I’d known you were gonna introduce me to the best lasagna in the state, I would’ve insisted they cure you faster,” I informed him sagely before taking another incredible bite. “Mmmph, damn, it’s hard to be snarky when I just want to lay down on a bed-sized portion of this stuff and eat until I pass out.”

“I mean, if anyone could afford to buy something like that…” Ryder winked at me and coughed before pointing with his fork. “Seriously though, I wouldn’t be here to enjoy this if it wasn’t for you. So thanks. I just keep owing you more, Cassidy Evans.”

A blush found its way to my face before I shook my head. “I had help, on both counts. Those two Touched, Facs and Yeet, they’re the only reason I had any idea what was going on. And it was the Ministry who provided the cure, so…” I frowned at my food, but it couldn’t last as I took another bite of ambrosia.

Ryder shrugged. “Guess I’ve got a few people to thank, but you were at the top of the list. And…” He trailed off before sighing. “I guess you haven’t heard anything from Pack? I know she took off with That-A-Way, and there was something about her, um, maybe killing that Whamline guy. Way, I mean.”

“I don’t know where they are, no.” I took another couple bites, partly lost in thought and partly just enjoying the food. “Pretty sure they just need some time to figure things out. I think we could all use that.”

“Yeah, now if only Pencil could understand that and let everyone in that building go before turning himself and the rest of his people in quietly.” After saying that, Ryder winced. “I mean--sorry, you probably didn’t need that reminder, huh?”

“Let’s just say I haven’t forgotten about that situation,” I confirmed. “But uh, I also haven’t checked in on it since I woke up from my own little nap. Everything’s still the same over there?”

Ryder gave a heavy sigh. “Giant impenetrable forcefield around a building full of hostages with a bunch of psychopaths threatening to kill them, yup. I guess the authorities are working on that. Honestly, I don’t think Pencil knows what to do since the people he left out here all got picked up. He’s still got his hostages in there, but they’re a umm, limited supply.” He visibly cringed after saying that. “God, that sounds bad. But he can’t just kill everyone in there. For once, he actually wants something that he can’t get for himself. And it’s something he can’t just ‘oh well’ his way out of if he doesn’t get it.”

“A cure for his sister,” I finished for him. “On the other hand, assuming she really is the only person he cares about, I don’t think we want to see just how bad he can get if he thinks he’s gonna lose her.” It was a thought that made me flinch. Pencil had been dangerous enough as it was. If he decided to lash out because he was pissed off and had nothing to lose, how horrible would it get? Worse than I could imagine, no doubt.

Ryder took another couple bites and ate in silence for a moment before offering a rather weak, “Well, at least you got some sleep? Cuz it seems like you’re gonna need it.”

Rolling my eyes at myself, I finished my next bite before replying, “Yeah, well, it would help if gender shit could fuck all the way off so I could stop having weird dreams.”

Only after saying that did I realize who I was talking to, as Ryder put his fork down and blinked at me. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then pressed on. “Is, uh, is that something you want to talk about?”

“Yes--no--I mean…” I trailed off before giving a heavy sigh while staring at the food in front of me, trying to gather my thoughts. “It's a really long story.”

“Good thing I’ve got good food and company,” he replied easily, taking another bite. But he didn't do anything else to prompt me. He just waited and watched while I decided what I wanted to say.

Finally, I simply started from the beginning. I told Ryder everything about my lost memories and what had been erased in that moment. I was vague on the whole Paige situation, of course. I didn't give away every single detail. But I told him the gist of it. Most importantly, I told him about how confused I had been, and now was again, about the whole boy-girl thing. And then about how my dream had confused the whole issue even more.

Once I was done, Ryder remained quiet for a minute. He just watched me in silence before setting his empty container down so he could reach out and gently put his hand on top of mine. His voice was soft. “Can I tell you something my grandfather said to me?”

His grandpa, the only person in his entire family who had accepted Ryder’s situation and had been encouraging to him. Biting my lip, I gave a quick nod and looked up to him silently, not wanting to interrupt.

Ryder left his hand on top of mine, his voice firm yet gentle. “My grandfather said, ‘the only person who can define you, is you. No one else can decide if you’re a good person or a bad person, a selfish person or a giving person. All they can do is look at you, what you say, how you act, and guess. Some for better and some for worse. The only person who knows what is inside is you. Everyone else is just interpreting what they see. Or worse, what they want. So don’t listen to them. Don’t listen to the supposed rules or to how everyone else thinks this sort of thing is supposed to go. They can’t see inside you.’”

He smiled a bit at the memory of his grandfather before his eyes shifted back to meet mine. “The way I see it, gender, it’s just like… the primary colors, if there were two of them, masculine and feminine. People think that you’re one or the other, but really, everyone is some mix. Maybe a person is seventy percent masculine and thirty percent feminine. They live their entire lives thinking of themselves as masculine. But here’s the thing, that means they’re only living as seventy percent of themselves.

“Think of a person’s body like a container that you can’t see inside of. Beside that container are two beakers. One beaker has blue liquid in it, for masculine. The other beaker has pink liquid in it, for feminine. The blue liquid is cold, and the pink liquid is hot. Every time a person is born, they get some liquid from one beaker and some liquid from another in their container. Since people can’t see inside the container, they have to use another sense to figure out what the mixture is. So they might touch it and say, ‘oh, that’s hot, she’s a girl.’ Or, you know, it’s cold so he must be a boy. But what if a container actually had more pink and they just happened to touch the one spot where there was more blue? What if they made assumptions based on a single touch and based their entire understanding of you off that?”

Ryder met my gaze, a small smile finding its way to his face. “And sometimes there’s a blender inside that container, so the blue and pink stuff just swirls around constantly. Maybe it’s mostly pink against the edges so it feels hot one moment, then the next, more blue gets mixed in so it cools down. There’s nothing wrong with that, and the person with the blender isn’t some sort of freak. It just… makes it more complicated to really understand who they are. Even for them. Some people aren’t a beaker of settled blue or pink. Some people are a… lava lamp.”

Taking in a deep breath before letting it out, I hesitantly offered, “Complicated does sum my life up, and lava lamps are pretty.” My hand shifted, opening to take his and squeeze it. “Thanks, Ryder.”

“Any time,” he replied softly. “But just so you know, no matter what your lava lamp looks like on the inside, as far as I’m concerned, you ended up with one of the best mixtures I’ve ever seen.”

We both blushed and had to look away, staring intently in either direction at the street below us. Then we slowly looked back and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean umm, I hope that helps a little.”

My head bobbed. “It does. It… it really does.

“I think… maybe for the first time in my life, I’m not confused anymore.”