Chapter 1: Spring Days

Mike

It was a good afternoon until we got the news. Dana, Teri, and I had burned through five ellipsoids and a beast of a conic section for our algebra homework, knocking them off quickly so we could take our time in bed. My bed, of course—neither of my girlfriends’ houses are great for guys in wheelchairs. We’d had fun, too, cleaning up in my shower. The girls had even, quickly and efficiently, changed my sheets while I spritzed the room with eau de air freshener.

And there we were, in my living room, with fifteen minutes to spare before Dana’s mom dropped off my dad and picked up her daughter—and Teri planned to leave at the same time. Dana started reading evaluations from her workshop yesterday. Teri had been rattling away on her laptop, writing as usual, but had stepped into my bedroom to take a call. As for me, I had a battered paperback of Molière in my lap—nominally for my World Lit class, but I was reading it in the original to practice my French. Or rather, not reading it. Honestly, I was just sitting in my wheelchair with a small smile on my face.

It was all I could do to keep it from being a grin. I do love my girlfriends.

I watched Dana leaf through her workbook, making notes—a petite girl with large-for-her-size breasts and an even more generous soul. A lot of guys, and I mean a lot, don’t see past the tits or mouse-brown hair, swept to one side with a hair clip, but in truth it’s her strength I love. Okay, yeah, her enthusiasm for sex didn’t hurt, but being one of my two best friends mattered more.

My other bestie-and-girlfriend returned to the living room, tucking her phone into her back pocket. Teri is a striking contrast—stocky and tall, taller than most men, with black hair recently trimmed to a buzz-cut that somehow emphasized her strong nose and jaw. Today’s tank-top revealed the weighlifter’s muscles usually hidden by an oversize flannel shirt. She stood by the couch, watching Dana scribble. There was something about the way Teri, I don’t know how to say this, vibrated in place—it caught my attention. A few moments more and Dana’s attention was caught in turn.

It took Dana just a single glance to notice something’s up. She smiled warmly. “What?”

“We’re on for Comics Fan Expo.”

Dana is not athletic in any sense, outside of bed anyway, but I swear sometimes it’s like she has springs in her legs—with a squeal, she Tigger-bounced off the floor into Teri’s arms. Teri, strong rock that she is, caught our girlfriend as if she were light as a feather-duster and held her up in an embrace, one arm under Dana’s butt.

I grinned. “Awesomesauce.”

Teri put Dana down, shaking her head. “Nope—you’re just not convincing at fanspeak.”

I held out my hand for her to clasp it, but instead Teri knelt down beside my chair for a hug—a deep, hard, steady one. Solid. Dang, but I love that feeling.

“This is the one in Phoenix?” Dana asked.

Teri stood. “Kansas City.”

Dana pulled a small frown. “Weekend of May 21st?”

“Mm-hm,” Teri agreed, still smiling.

Uh oh.

Dana winced silently. Just as silently, she mouthed, I’m sorry.

I let myself grimace in turn.

Teri caught on. “Oh shit, that’s your Dad’s wedding, isn’t it.”

Dana bit her lower lip to stop it wibbling. Despite her size, she’s not a little girl, and if just about any other woman did that, you’d think she was manipulating you. Dana, it’s her honest reaction. She really was that sorry to have disappointed Teri. But then, so was I.

Teri wrapped her arm around Dana’s shoulder and hugged her close, then looked at me—face somber. “Which means it’s also the Denver Marathon.”

In which I am scheduled, again, to compete in the wheelchair event. I swallowed, then nodded.

“Well, fuck,” Teri said, reaching her other hand out to me. I rolled forward to take it. “I was really looking forward to—to going with one of you.” She still hadn’t, as of a few days ago, decided which.

And then there was that hitch in her voice. “And to us being at your first professional author appearance,” I said softly.

Teri squeezed my hand—almost too hard. “Yeah,” she admitted.

“A big weekend for all of us,” Dana said, voice almost steady. One where we’d be apart.

Suddenly, Dana whirled out of Teri’s embrace, dumped her battered workbook out of the way, and pulled Teri down on the couch, all in one smooth spiral of motion. I sometimes think she should become a dancer. I rolled closer to them, beside Teri.

“So—dish. Both Cal and Zoe?” Dana kept her voice light but eager.

Teri’s collaborators—together they write erotic space operas under a collective pen-name. I don’t pretend to understand how that works—the one time I tried collaborating with Teri on a poem, it was a complete disaster.

Teri shook her head. “Just Zoe—Cal will be mid-exams.”

Zoe’s at a university in Manchester, England, on a schedule similar to the American high school year, but down in Melbourne Cal’s on a southern hemisphere inversion. And no, I don’t understand how they manage the time differences, either.

“You could put up her name in front of an empty chair,” I said.

“Or loop her in by video-conference,” Dana added.

Teri frowned. “We don’t know how these sorts of shindigs work.”

Dana didn’t notice the warning—and before I could interrupt, she went on, “Put a tablet on the table or—” then stopped when Teri made her lowest-level throat-clearing sound. “—or I’ll just shut up now.” Dana’s smile was rueful, then brightened. “Until you dish, anyway—how many panels?”

“Just one—that’s typical for non-celebrity prose writers at a comicon this size. Plus a signing after it and we get a booth in author alley. We’ll also sign at the local science fiction bookstore’s booth.”

“Squee!” Dana said, hugging Teri’s arm. Yes, she actually said it instead of squealing.

“It really is awesomesauce,” I said—and meant it. I mean, yeah, I was disappointed Teri wouldn’t see me race, but it’d been at least a fifty-fifty chance she’d be Dana’s plus-one for the wedding instead. Given just how messed up Dana’s father can be, we both knew she really could use the support more than I would, while I’d have Dad with me again. And none of that mattered anyway—Teri’s first appearance as an author, a successful author, was something to celebrate. In fact— “So how do we celebrate?”

“I have ideas,” Dana said, voice suddenly sultry.

Dang—after seven months together, it still gave me an erection when she did that—a sudden erection, despite having drained my balls dry just an hour earlier. And, ha!, it still made Teri’s nipples pop. Though for her overt reaction, all Teri did was exaggeratedly roll her eyes.

Following her cue, I said mildly, “Yes, but before that.” Somehow I managed to keep my voice steady—must be all that practice.

“Ah,” Dana breathed, then smiled up at Teri. “How do you want to, love?”

“We can figure that out later,” Teri told her.

Both my and Dana’s phones chimed, almost in sync, for an incoming text. Dana leaned over to check hers—it was holding down her workbook on the floor. “Mom’s coming, bringing Matt home,” she announced. Matt being my father.

I didn’t visibly twitch—definitely all that practice, for that. I’m almost used to the idea of Dad dating my girlfriend’s mother. Almost.

Teri stood up. “Lemme get my stuff.” But instead of heading for her pack, she knelt down beside my chair.

I managed to set the wheel-brakes just before she wrapped me up in one of her large hugs and rare (outside the bedroom) smoking kisses. I kissed back—despite the evidence, I’m not actually stupid. Dang, I love kissing my girlfriend. Both of them.

I heard papers rustling in the distance, and from somewhere beyond that, Dana said: “I’ll let her know we’ll need two minutes to pack up.” Then, as Teri and I kept kissing, she giggled. “Three minutes.”

Eventually I had to breathe, and broke away. Teri was panting, too. I don’t know what my eyes looked like, but I was betting they were smoldering just as much as hers.

Teri stood and was immediately replaced by Dana, hopping into my lap. “And don’t you forget it, mister,” she informed me—then leaned in for a kiss. She didn’t embrace me, aside from warm hands on my flushed cheeks, but the kiss was surely as hot as Teri’s—and since I was already smoldering it’s a wonder I didn’t spontaneously combust. Hello, sexpot.

A timeless epoch later, Dana’s mouth pulled away. Her blue eyes shone like gems. She nodded and stood up.

“I love you, too,” I managed to croak.

Outside, a car door closed. Teri handed Dana her loaded backpack, and they headed out, holding hands. I barely remembered to release my brakes before following them to the side door.

Just as Teri reached for the handle, Dad opened the door from the outside. “Hello, girls.”

“Goodbye,” Teri said, passing him.

“Nice talking with you,” Dad shot back.

Dana grinned as she passed him, as if it had been a good joke.

I shook my head at Dad. Way to break a romantic mood.

Teri

I glanced up from my laptop, and then looked around. It was finally warming up in the river-walk park, even beneath the shade of freshly green cottonwood leaves, enough that I didn’t mind that my patch of sunlight had moved on. A few brown birds twittered above me, and I could just hear gurgling from the stream below. So different from the battle aboard a space station I was writing. I shook my head to clear it.

The movement caught Dana’s eye from her bench beside the bike path, and she looked up from her tablet. Her brown hair was still tousled from pulling off her knit hat—it looked fucking adorable. So was her smile. I smiled back. It was nice to sit with her without it being all about sex.

I raised my eyebrow, and she flicked up the fingers of one hand—about five minutes till Mike finished his last lap. I nodded.

I sent Cal and Zoe a quick note about the scene I just finished and where things should go next, then closed my laptop. It’d been a good session—even if my girlfriend wasn’t interested in reading the result, she still supported my writing, giving me the time to work. I picked up my hotspot, bent down as I passed to give Dana a quick kiss, then took my stuff back to Baby. While I was there, I grabbed a couple bottles of water and a can of protein shake from the cooler.

I slid Baby’s side door closed, then patted it. I loved my new ride. Sleek for a minivan, gleaming silver, and mine all mine—as of two weeks ago, the day after I passed my driver’s test. If I were single, I’d’ve gotten an SUV, but I wanted/needed something easy to mod for Mike’s wheelchair—a chair lift on the side, half-empty second row with docking straps, chair rack on the back, the works. Nothing to let Mike drive it, though. No one gets to drive Baby but me.

Not even my steadies.

And yes, my not-so-darling older siblings were still pretty torqued about Baby—sucks to be them, for once. Sam was mostly annoyed that I got some new wheels nicer than her used sedan. Ricky was simply pissed off that I got a car at all—he has to share with our older sister. Father firmly explained that I’d bought Baby with my own money, and if Ricky had saved up enough he could do the same. So unhelpful at calming my brother down, that tease, but as a way of coming out to my siblings as richer than them ... so, so satisfying.

Almost as fucking sweet as being one third of a bestselling author.

I paused on the path to watch a runner doing cooldown stretches. He was shirtless, which showed off his whipcord muscles—not overbulked like a jock or gym-himbo, but more like a martial artist. I do like that look, similar to Mike’s from racing his chair, even if this guy wasn’t lean-faced in the same way. And for that matter, he was blond and old—at least mid-20s. Still, I expected Mike would like him, too. He and I have fun, sometimes, going boy-watching as a strictly spectator sport. Yeah, I like having a steady boy who’s bi.

And a steady girl who’s bi. Who was looking pretty cute in her pale-green cardigan and forest-green pleated skirt. Had she chosen her outfit to blend in with the river-park scrub?