A Different Slice

13 - Confession (Naomi)

Naomi's stomach danced with excitement for her friend. "Is she the real estate agent?"

Shivanna shook her head and showed Naomi a photo of a curvy woman with a playful smile who looked like she was about to walk down a fashion runway. "The hairstylist studying to be a lawyer."

"Ooh, pretty and smart, nice."

Shivanna smiled at the phone. "Not all of us are unaffected by physical attractiveness."

"Many days, I wish I wasn't."

Shivanna took her hands. "Don't wish that. That's what they want, and they can screw off. Be exactly who you are, unapologetically."

Naomi leaned her head into her friend's warm shoulder. "Thanks, Shivanna."

"Anytime."

Later that evening, Shivanna and Naomi got ready for their dates in opposite ways. Shivanna styled her hair in gentle waves and picked out clothes that flattered her curves, while Naomi debated which of her comfortable outfits was the dressiest. She chose an almost fitted t-shirt from a concert she and Greg had seen together last summer and cozy capri-length leggings. She pulled her hair back into a messy bun before changing her mind and leaving it down.

Shivanna left for dinner before Greg arrived, so Naomi had some freak-out time where she fought her resolve not to have any alcohol to put her at ease. Booze pushed her outside her comfort zone and not always in a good way.

When the doorbell rang, Naomi had applied a third coat of deodorant and had changed into a fresher comfy top. "Hey," she said softly when Greg entered.

He wore a nice, blue button-up shirt and a pair of tan jeans. His bicycle helmet rested on his arm.

He looked her up and down. "Hey, are we staying in tonight?"

"Yeah, I thought we'd have that chat I wanted to have last weekend."

"Okay." He shut the door and surveyed the living room. "Just us here tonight?"

He glanced between Naomi and Cleo, who'd trotted to the front entryway and looked at him. After Greg gave the dog a quick pet, she huffed then meandered to her bed.

Naomi nodded and headed toward the couch. She'd put out a bowl of popcorn she had no appetite to consume. Sitting cross-legged kept Greg from coming too close to her. It was like her body was putting up extra defences, fearing he'd reject what she was about to confess.

Greg's brow furrowed. "You seem really nervous, Nomi. Are you okay?"

She nodded again and took a deep breath.

It's okay, Nomi. He'll understand. Just explain it to him. Not once in their friendship had he mentioned asexuality. She fidgeted with the bracelet on her wrist.

"Have you ever," when Naomi closed her eyes and cleared her throat, Greg held her hand in his, "heard of a-asexuality?"

His straight face and continued stare weren't a strong clue to his reaction. "I think so. Why?"

"Do you know much about it?"

He shook his head and kept his gaze on her.

"It's when a person doesn't experience any or very little sexual attraction towards others."

"Okay." His tone was flat, not judging, but not excited either.

He held her hand and stroked it with his soft fingers. It wasn't an outright denial or rejection, but his neutrality was concerning. But their relationship wouldn't work if she hid this.