I smile. “Okay, I’m bi, then. What about you?”

“I don’t know. I used to always say I’m gay, but I guess that doesn’t really apply since I don’t even know my own gender. I’d say I’m an androphile, though.”

“That’s not a fancy word for a pedophile, is it?”

Devin chokes, a hand coming up to eir mouth as e coughs. Finally, e says, “No, it’s not! It means I’m only into guys.”

I smile. “Good, that’s better.”

Devin still looks a little sick, which is a pretty understandable response. E takes a moment to get eir breathing together before saying, “I’ve never had a boyfriend, but it’s not because I don’t want one. I’m pretty sure I’m asexual, but that doesn’t really affect my dating preferences, you know?”

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re just too picky to find anyone?”

Devin rolls eir eyes. “No one’s ever liked me like that.”

I laugh, but the moment passes, and I realize e’s totally serious. “That’s ridiculous. Why wouldn’t anyone like you?”

E shrugs. “How should I know? I guess I’m just not a likable person. Ask the populations of Florida and Colorado.”

But it’s honestly such an absurd notion to me. Sure, Devin’s kinda weird, a little eccentric, and not so great at holding the contents of eir stomach, but e’s also super sweet, talented and creative, open-minded and compassionate. E’s always working toward a cause, and trying to help the next generation, and smiling despite every terrible thing that’s happened to em. Am I really supposed to believe no one’s attracted to that?

“You’ve obviously been hanging around pretty terrible people if no one’s been into you,” I say. “That’s so ridiculous.”

Devin blushes again, and at this point, I’m worried e’ll turn permanently pink. “I guess I just haven’t met the right person yet.”

“You will,” I say. “You know, eventually. Someone who really appreciates how great you are.”

And there’s something in eir eyes as e looks at me, a soft smile on eir face. “Thank you. That really means a lot.”

“Do you have plans for the Fourth?” I ask.

“Work?”

I roll my eyes. “After that.”

“My parents usually have a little party,” e says. “Nothing big. Just some friends and some fireworks.”

I smile, waiting for em to ask me if I want to come. And waiting. And waiting . . .

“Are you not going to invite me?” I ask.

Devin blushes. “I—I’m sorry, I just figured you were doing something with Drew.”

I probably should’ve figured that too, considering he’s my boyfriend, but I also don’t know if we’re going to be doing anything together for a while. I guess it depends on whether or not he apologizes.