Below is an excerpt from my novel in progress! Tobin, 28 navigates queerness, identity, dating and her career in D.C., throughout the COVID-19 pandemic. She uses she and they pronouns. Let me know what you think :)
This chapter covers queerness and sex, so read at your own risk!
“Knock ‘em dead, Tobino,” Sam cheered, patting them on the back. The three of them stood outside The Pembroke, a classy cocktail bar in DuPont. Tobin stared nervously at their pals, both grinning from ear to ear, forever cheerleaders for first dates. Tobin bit her bottom lip. It had admittedly been a while. Well, more like three years since they last had sex and yet to have queer sex. How does one even do this? Alex had sent Tobin many videos and articles and even a “Queer Guide tO Queer Sex” but the best way to learn was practice, they all agreed.
“I don’t know, I’m sweating so much. Maybe I should just say I have food poisoning or one of you got in a car crash or your dog died or —”
“You’re going to be great!” Alex chirped. “Text us if you need an out, or wanna come to As You Are. We’ll be here.”
Tobin groaned and wiped their hands on their jeans. She wore her most practical date outfit: black Blundstones, oversized trench coat and a fitted thrifted tank top. You never know if a drinks date would turn into a hike around DC date. Her “Gay and Literate” hat stayed on the shelf for this one but managed to remember her daily gold earrings and rings they shoved on as they ran out the door. It was 7:55pm and miraculously early– much to Sam’s prompting.
“Okay, go on in! Sit at the bar mysteriously. And offer to pay, Tobin. Don’t skimp out!” Sam reminded, prodding Tobin in the ribs.
“Okay, okay,” Tobin rolled their eyes.
“And don’t be awkward!” Alex added as they walked away giggling.
“Kiss them!” Sam screamed.
“Ok, thanks Mom and Dad!” Tobin blushed and looked around. Everyone else in hearing distance was on their phones, unaware and mindlessly scrolling on Tiktok or reading The Post, most likely. Tobin took a deep breath. They saw her date at the bar already, chatting animatedly with the bartender who looked like the straightest, whitest, DC consultant ever. Damn she was pretty. And had on heeled booties, a cute gray sweater and jeans. A classic look. Tobin pushed open the door and could feel their mouth stretching into a smile even though their insides were sloshing around in anxiety. Be calm, Tobin! The bar was low lit, and fairly uncrowded for a Saturday. The new Miley Cyrus song played overhead. Tobin did a quick once over and noticed no one they recognized– thankgod. Her shoulders relaxed a bit.
“Hey, Mal?” Tobin tried but she must not have heard so Tobin uncomfortably shifted on her feet. Mal said something to the bartender and he laughed way too hard. Tobin cleared her throat and tried again, now becoming increasingly aware of her standing –looming-- behind this stranger. She tapped her on the shoulder. Mal turned, brushing her long brown hair back.
“Oh heyyyyy!” She grinned and pulled Tobin into a hug. Her hair smelled like lavender. And the beach. She wore red lipstick and ohmygod was SO FUCKING PRETTY. Like, prettier in person than online. How is that possible? Why are women so hot? “How’s it going?”
“Oh uh, hi, good!” Tobin mumbled.
“Here, sit down!” Mal chirped and patted the stool next to her. “I was just talking to Coleman about that cute Christmas holiday pop up bar that shut down a few years ago– have you been? Anyways! How was your day? What do you usually like to drink?” She looked so earnest. Tobin gulped. Words. Where are they? What are we doing? Oh, right.
“Oh, good good. You know, the same old, same old. I don’t love alcohol. I mean, I like margaritas. What about you?” Ohmygod, what are these words? Why do I keep repeating myself?
“Great choice. They have amazing margs here. I’m a big martini girl, so.”
“Oh,” Tobin nodded. The smell of gin made them want to vomit. “Yummy. I’ll probably get a marg.” The bartender meandered over. “Ya’ll know what you want?”
“I’ll have a martini and they’ll have a marg?” She looked over at Tobin for confirmation. Tobin nodded. Her confidence was so. Damn. Hot.
The bartender nodded and whisked away. Tobin’s armpits must be drenched in sweat. Why was it so hot in here? Why is there no ceiling fan? Was the room getting smaller? Okay, now there’s been a considerable amount of silence. Mal casually sipped her drink, unconcerned and her steady eye contact challenged Tobin say something — anything — to make a move.
Tobin cleared her throat. “So you’re a policy director? Do you like it?”
Mal nodded and smiled. “It’s not glamorous work but I like policy and am passionate about housing justice . . .”
They chatted for a bit about work and family. Mal was from Massachusetts and seemed to have a close relationship with her parents. Two older siblings who both lived on the West Coast.
“How are you feeling? Wanna come back to my place?” Mal raised her eyebrows in question and finished off her martini.
Tobin almost spit out her margarita. Oh shit. She definitely didn’t shave anything, not that that particularly mattered or predicted this to happen. But damn, if she passed this opportunity because of nerves Future Tobin would be Very Disappointed. She nodded and followed her out the door.
* * *
It was 3am by the time they were finished. Not sure if either of them finished but it was late – technically early – and both of them were a bit dizzy and exhausted. Lesbian sex can apparently go on for hours, days, weeks even. Tobin wondered what the longest lesbian sex to ever have had was. She guessed it had to do with one’s own definition of sex and what even is time? It makes sense that lesbians U-Haul and just never leave after the first date. The market is hard, dating is hard and when you find someone single and monogamous and emotionally available it pretty much narrows it down to 10 lesbians in D.C. This town was too damn small. Mal was spooning Tobin.
“I like your Dedham plates,” Tobin commented.
“Huh?”
Tobin lifted her head and turned towards Mal. Her eyes were so blue, even in the dark Tobin could feel them. “Your blue and white bunny plates. I think they’re Dedham pottery. They’re made in Cape Cod. My mom has a set, too.” Tobin felt pleasantly surprised she could name this.
“Oh, I didn’t know what they were called. My great Aunt gave them to me. She’s from Cape Cod, actually and also has a sheep farm.”
Tobin nodded. “No way, that’s cute!”
“Yeah, she’s a cool lady named Barbara. She actually owns her own advocacy group and runs it virtually. And has this crazy divorce story–”
“Wait WHAT,” Tobin bolted upright and threw the covers off the bed. Her heart was pounding.
Mal looked concerned. “Are you okay?”
“Barbara. Did she have a husband named Bill?”
“Hmm,” Mallory thought. “I actually can’t remember his name. He passed a while ago.”
“Oh god.” Tobin groaned. What the fuck was happening? Was she just still super drunk or was this a fucked up nightmere? “I have a great Aunt named Barbara with a farm and a non profit and a fucked up divorce story.”
“What’s your last name?” Tobin asked, profusely sweating again. This was not happening. Her first lesbian sex and she fucks her cousin? Tobin can picture Sam and Alex getting a kick out of this one.
“Parker,” Mal laughed awkwardly. What’s yours?”
“Bates. Oh, okay. Jesus, that would have been weird.” Tobin felt her heart beat slowing. “I mean, if we’re removed by multiple generations and I’m adopted then technically it’s okay. I mean ethical. I mean it’s not like we’re having a biological baby––”
“Tobin, I think it’s okay. Come sit down. It’s like 4am.” Tobin huffed and sat on the edge of the bed, unconvinced. “We are definitely not first cousins and we are definitely not having a biological baby. That would be a completely different situation.” Mallory rubbed Tobin’s back gently.
Tobin nodded and took a deep breath. It actually felt pretty nice. “Okay, yeah you’re right. Sorry, I was spiraling a bit. That would be really fucked up.”
Mal nodded. “But I do know a friend whose aunt and uncle are married on different sides of her parent’s. Different sides of the family and different siblings. But that’s a hard mental bit to get past.” She chuckled.
Tobin let out a huff.
“You really thought you fucked your cousin, didn’t you?” Mal joked playfully. “You’re cute when you’re stressed.”
Tobin groaned again. “Stoppppp.”
Mal leaned in and kissed Tobin and smiled. “Because I like fucking you and that would suck if we were cousins.”
Tobin grinned back. She’d have to do some more digging and call their mom later today to get some facts straightened out. But that was a later Tobin problem.
I’m living LAUGHING and loving!!!!! Cannot wait for more of this 🩷