Page 30 of The Goat in the Bedroom
“Great. I'll set it up.”
We finished dinner together, and I cataloged all her cute and adorable idiosyncrasies that I usually took for granted. The way she laughed at her own jokes. How she absently reached over to steal bites from my plate even though she had her own. The perfectly comfortable silence when conversation lapsed.
If she moved to Great Britain, I'd lose all of this. The daily domesticity, the shared meals, the easy companionship that had become the best part of my day.
And I'd lose it without ever telling her how I felt about her.
Saturday we headed out to Abbey Cat, a converted church in West Hollywood that had been transformed into one of the most welcoming queer spaces in LA. The building still looked vaguely religious from the outside, but the rainbow flags and the sound of music spilling onto the street made it clear this was a very different kind of worship.
Sean and Ren were waiting by the entrance, both dressed in the kind of effortlessly cool outfits that made me feel like I'd never understood fashion.
Sean had the sophisticated style of someone who knew exactly what worked for his plus-size frame in a perfectly fitted suit vest with a crisp shirt over dark jeans that made him look like a sophisticated but casual academic, until you noticed the tiny superheroes on his tie. He wore his confidence like an accessory, the kind of self-assurance that came from being completely comfortable in his own skin.
Ren was taller, with really striking Asian features, and wore a vintage jacket that probably cost more than my truck.
“There they are,” Sean called out, pulling me into a hug like we were old friends instead of people Liam and George had connected through their network of honorary family. “Ready for some fun?”
“As ready as we'll ever be,” Artie replied.
Parker arrived moments later, her purple hair catching the light from the street lamps. She looked exactly the same as she had at graduation, confident, slightly mischievous, with the kind of energy that suggested she was always planning something interesting.
“This place is amazing,” she said, looking up at the building. “Very Gothic chic meets pride parade.”
“Wait until you see the inside,” Ren said with a grin.
Freddie was the last to arrive, looking slightly overwhelmed but excited. They'd cut their hair since I'd last seen them at aKingman family gathering, and the shorter style made them look older, more settled into their identity.
“Thanks for waiting for me,” they said. “Getting here from campus was... weird.”
“No problem,” Artie said, giving them a hug. “How's the soccer team looking?”
“Intimidating but amazing. I think I'm going to love playing here.”
We all made our way inside, and I felt some of the tension start to ease out of me. This was exactly what I'd needed. Friends, music, the kind of social connection that reminded me there was more to life than football and complicated feelings about roommates.
The interior of Abbey Cat was even more impressive than the outside suggested. High ceilings, stained-glass windows that had been repurposed with rainbow lighting, and a dance floor that was already packed with people of every age, gender, and style imaginable.
“Drinks first,” Sean announced, leading us toward the roped off VIP area where they had a table reserved. Fancy pants. “Then I want to hear everything about how you're all settling into LA life.”
The next few hours flew by in the best possible way. Our table was in a quieter corner where we could actually talk, and the conversation ranged from career updates to LA apartment hunting to stories from our respective teams and schools.
Parker regaled us with tales from her new job at FlixNChill. “Being besties with the author of the books they're making into the most anticipated show next year has it's benefits. One other girl in IT cried a little when I got Tempest to sign a book for her.”
Freddie talked about the adjustment to UCLA, the competitive dynamics of the soccer team, and their excitement about training with coaches who actually understood theirOlympic aspirations. “Everyone here is serious about their sport. No one thinks it's weird that I'm planning my life around soccer.”
“Same with rugby,” Artie agreed. “It's nice to be around people with the same kind of goals.”
Sean and Ren shared stories about LA life, the best neighborhoods for young professionals, and the city's surprisingly robust community of transplants from smaller places.
“The thing about LA,” Ren said, “is that almost everyone here is from somewhere else. I was worried when I came over from... Asia. But there's this understanding that everyone's trying to figure it out as they go.”
“Except the people who were born here,” Sean added. “They're a whole different species.”
This felt like what Artie and I'd been missing, a genuine connection with people who understood the particular challenges of being young, queer, and trying to build a life in a new city.
I tried not to but I watched Artie more carefully than I should have. The way she laughed at Sean's stories, how she and Parker fell into easy conversation about college days, the comfortable way she interacted with everyone so easily.
This was Artie in her element, social, confident, completely herself. And seeing her like this made me realize how much I wanted to be part of her world, as something more.
