I can feel Ari’s eyes on the side of my face. “Because he’s Asian?”

I wheel around. Ari is Filipino and five seconds away from garroting me with Christmas garlands. “What? No! Of course not!”

She looks slightly less murderous. “Because he’s a dude? I thought you were into dudes.”

I shift anxiously on my feet. I came out to Ari my first week at Roastlandia, when we caught each other checking out Hot Yoga Janine in her Fabletics. It wasn’t a particularly profound moment.

“You into women?” Ari had asked me point-blank.

To which I’d eloquently said, “Uh, yeah, I’m generally into everything,” like I was commenting on which pizza toppings I prefer.

This was followed by Ari punching me in the shoulder and saying, “I thought you were one of us.”

And sure, I fell a little bit in love with Ari in that moment, but we didn’t exactly dive into the nuances of my sexuality. “I mean, I’m bi,” I stammer now, “so technically, yes, I’m into dudes, but I’m also demisexual, which means I don’t experience sexual attraction at all without a strong emotional bond.”

“I know what demisexuality is,” Ari cuts in.

Right. Of course. This is Portland. It’s not like all the times I tried to explain myself on third dates back in Ohio and was met with blank, uncomprehending stares. “Okay, well, for me personally, I can look at people and find them physically attractive in, like, an objective way. And I can develop crushes. But unless there is deep trust there, that crush is always going to feel kind of distant and abstract.”

Ari—who proudly wears a trans flag pin beside a lesbian pride pin on her Roastlandia apron—gives me a look that says my question did not require a dissertation. “But if you do form that emotional bond, you are capable of being sexually and romantically attracted to men?” she asks slowly.

I nod. “In theory.” In practice, it hasn’t happened before. Needing emotional intimacy in relationships while also having an anxiety disorder that makes emotional intimacy nearly impossible is just rude as hell on the part of my brain.

“Well, if I were into dudes,” Ari declares, “I would be all over Andrew, so you should definitely form an emotional bond with him.”

“It’s not really that simple. And besides, Andrew is almost too attractive. The money and the suits and the hair… Andrew’s life is perfect and being around him would only remind me of how imperfect my life is.”

I’m content with my distant and abstract crush on Andrew Kim-Prescott.

Ari adjusts her fedora so it sits jauntily over one eye. “No one is perfect, Ellie.”