“Are you nervous?”
Shining Armor dug his nails into the fabric of his jeans and imagined a stronger man. A man without a binder, without the folder he clutched tight to his chest that held every scrap of hope he had saved for the past decade. He imagined the man he would be an hour from now, a week, a month, a year from now, and his breath steadied. His pulse subsided from a howl to a dull roar and he crashed back down into the passenger seat of his mom's SUV. “You have no idea.”
Twilight Velvet pursed her lips, her eyes unreadable underneath the wide sunglasses she wore. Her fingertips tapped to the beat of the CD Shining had burned and she said nothing. The CD skipped as she hit a bump and Velvet spoke, the force seemingly dislodging whatever words hung unspoken in her throat. “I don’t... You’re right.” Before Shining could press for more, her hand found his as manicured nails dug into the soft of his palm. “But I’ve been nervous before. Y’know, marriage, childbirth, now.” Shining turned to face his mom and their eyes met. The crest of her eyebrows, the tug downwards on the edge of her eyelids spoke of a love made bittersweet by the inescapable reality of change.
“I know this is hard for you.” Shining faced the cityscape instead, the passing buildings blending into a beige haze of gentrification. He felt sick.
“Honey.” Velvet squeezed his hand and he squeezed back, a desperate confession of love and terror in equal measures. “This is your day, okay? Don’t worry about me.”
“I know, I know.” Shining pulled his hand back and turned his attention to the folder he held, flipping through it in a final bid to find some guidance, some comfort in the uncertainty that sought to tore him apart. His reverie was wrenched from him as they slowed. They were here.
Velvet was quiet as she parked, her arm braced against the back of his seat rest as she carefully parallel parked. Shining wasn’t looking forward to learning parallel parking. She was quiet as she put the SUV into park, quiet as she set her crossbody purse across her shoulder, quiet as she opened the door and stepped into the hot summer air.
They were both quiet still as they walked into the clinic on the corner of 3rd and North High. He pushed the door open, holding it for his mom as they stepped over the threshold and into the first day of his life. Walking to the desk, the walls closed in and the reality of his situation nipped at his heels. Was he ready for this? Was this the right choice? Was he prepared, truly, for everything that would follow this moment?
Was he ready to be a man?
The choice was made for him by the desk clerk, staring him down over the rim of her black, thick-framed glasses. “Are you here for an appointment?”
He spoke, his voice dragging its way out of his throat like nails on a chalkboard. A woman's voice. “Yeah, the name should be Shining Armor.”
The desk clerk, the woman with the pastel blue, pink and white striped pin affixed to her lapel smiled and Shining felt a little less alone. Her voice was deeper, a lilting strain against the upper limits of her vocal chords. “Okay, I just need to see an ID to get checked in. You’re seeing Nurse River, right?”
Shining nodded, gracious for a chance to rest his trembling voice. Pulling his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans, he fished his ID out and slid it across the countertop. The name Moondancer was printed in bold block letters across her name tag and for a moment Moondancer was the only thing he could focus on. She took the ID and started typing, her attention wholly on the screen in front of her. The world hung in the air for a moment and Shining waited for the sword to drop, for the illusion to be shattered, but all he got was his ID back and another pleasant smile.
“You’re free to have a seat. A nurse will call you up when it’s your turn.” Shining turned to leave for the sitting room but Moondancer’s voice caught in his mind before he could flee. “And Shining? Congrats.”
It took all his effort not to cry.
“Are you nervous?”
“If people don’t stop asking me that, then yes, I’m gonna start feeling nervous.” Shining puffed his cheeks out, putting on his best pout. He tapped his fingers against the paper that covered the exam bed, drumming out a tense little tune.
Nurse River just laughed, a gentle sound that didn’t reach the pale walls of the exam room. She was holding a needle and a small glass vial. “So you’re not nervous at all then? Not even a little?” River wasn’t looking at Shining, instead focusing on pulling the clear liquid into the chamber of the needle. She tapped it against the glass of the bottle and Shining flinched.
“Okay, okay, yes. I’m extremely nervous. Like, fuck. Fuck!” Shining threw his arms into the air and kicked his legs against the exam bed. It was the most he could do to keep his panic from hitting a head and exploding outward. He’d rather wait till he got home to break down.
“I understand. The boys have it worse, really. The girls don’t have to deal with the injections usually. This is gonna sting, okay? I promise it’s better than getting bloodwork done though.” Shining shuddered and nodded. He dealt with bloodwork. He could deal with this. All he had to do was close his eyes and wait for the…
“1, 2, 3.” Jab! Push. Sigh. Shining felt the tension practically drain from his body, relaxing his body into a tired but satisfied slouch. He wanted to pass out there, sprawled across the dingy exam bed. The world had lifted off his shoulders and for the first time, the first real time, he was Shining Armor.
“Are you nervous?”
“Yes. Extremely.” Twilight’s voice barely carried over the song she was blasting. Shining let her hook her phone up to the AUX and she was letting the sweet sounds of Gold Celeste wash her fears away. The surface fears, of course. The real deal was still clinging to her chest like a vice, threatening to crush her ribcage like a paper mache crane in a car accident.
“Hah! Don’t be, okay? It’s gonna be fine.” Shining squeezed Twilight’s thigh and she turned to face him, her eyes swimming in the deep end of sorrow and terror. He just smiled as the sun cut through the dust on his dash. Pulling his hand back, he downshifted into the last turn they would have to make before the clinic.
The mechanical precision, the casual grace that Shining exhibited as he piloted the old Mazda down city streets fascinated her. This car would be hers when he graduated college. She looked forward to it, to the cracked speaker enclosures and the fading black fleece that clung to the dying foam of the seats. She looked forward to the self-done oil changes, late-night weird smoke diagnostics and grease coating her fingers. She looked forward to owning this car. She looked forward to owning herself.
“Look, at least you don’t have to deal with needles.” Twilight’s eyes traced the stubble, the rough skin, the sunburn from yard work only now starting to heal. At least she had a brother, a trailblazer, a long-suffering guide in the dark to ferry her across the river of her old life and onto the shore of the new.
Twilight nodded, uncrossing her arms to fidget with the volume knob as the album hit a lull. “Yeah, at least there’s that. I just get pills.” Satisfied with the Mazda’s desperate attempts to deliver her music, she watched the cityscape pass by. She counted every store, every restaurant, every rental office her eyes could catch. “But hey, your voice changed and stuff! I have to try to get there.” She would try. Or she might? She didn’t know. She couldn’t know, really, and that bothered her. Too many unknowns.
“Hey, Twily?” Twilight was torn from her spiral and back into the passenger seat as they pulled into an empty spot on a nearby side street. She was glad Shining didn’t try and parallel park. Shining smiled as he pulled the handbrake up and the world around them slowed. “You’re gonna be fine. I promise.”
He was right.
