"His room doesn't have any movie posters, or any kind of posters, really. Or pictures on the wall. Actually, there's a couple video game posters and a few banners and tapestries hanging around, but I'm pretty sure they're his roommate's." Jake leans forward as he talks, elbows on the table, idly shifting his coffee cup between his hands.

Liddy sits across from him, lounging back in her seat. Her arms stretch out to the table, cradling her own cup between her palms as she watches him talk.

"At first, I kinda thought, like, does this guy have any taste? Does he do anything besides study and play video games and whatever the hell he's always typing on his computer for? Like, I was fully anticipating him being a boring hermit who needed some culture added to his life."

Liddy hums lightly, lifting her cup to her lips. There's a smile there that Jake knows. It's one that's two parts understanding, and one part amused. He knows whatever follows that smile is usually a heavy dose of teasing and playful dragging. He does his best to ignore it.

"But then we studied at my place, and you know how I have all those indie movie posters?"

Her smile quirks a little wider around the lip of her coffee cup as she huffs a short laugh. "Yeah, because you're a wierdo who likes wierdo movies."

"They're great movies."

"They're terrible, but continue."

Jake leans forward, putting his palms flat on the table, meeting her eyes as he says in a loud whisper, "He recognized them."

Liddy's laugh is surprised, choking a little on her coffee. She puts the cup down, one hand to her chest and face twisted as she half laughs, half coughs. "You're kidding me."

Jake leans back in his seat, grin wide. "Nope. He totally recognized them, and more than that, he likes those movies. I finally found someone with taste."

With her coughing fit subsided, she grins. "You mean you finally found someone you don't have to force into watching your boring, low quality movie collection."

"They're not boring," he argues, but she's already waving him off.

She leans forward, sitting on the edge of her seat with her elbows on the table. Fingers curl delicately around her cup, index finger idly tapping the top of it. Her smile is coy and curling, and Jake feels a familiar sense of unease and wariness. "This is cool and everything, but I asked how the tutoring was coming."

Jake frowns, brows pinching. "I was telling you—"

"You were telling me about Kyle. I asked you about tutoring, and you talked for five minutes about his room, three minutes about his oversized hoodies, ten minutes about his apparent interests, two minutes about how smart he is, and a four minute story about the time he smudged his own glasses and how cute it was when he got frustrated over it."

"I..." Jake's frown deepens. "I never called him cute."

Liddy lifts her coffee cup, pointing at him with an index finger. "But you implied it. Pretty heavily, might I add."

Jake scoffs, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. He scowls at her across the table. "I thought we were here to catch up. This is me catching you up with my life."

She nods, but her smile never fades. "That's exactly why we're here, and you certainly are. You trust me, right?"

Jake blinks, scowl fading in his confusion. His hesitance comes from his surprise, not wariness. He answers truthfully and honestly. "More than anyone."

And it's almost startling to realize how true that is. He and Liddy dated back in their senior year of high school through their first year of college. He's never kept in contact with any of his exes, but Liddy is an exception. They became closer after they broke up, and in a lot of ways, she became not only his best friend, but the sister he never had.

She knows him, inside and out. After seeing him as a boyfriend and as a friend, she knows him far more than a lot of his other friends do. In fact, most of the time, she seems to know him better than he knows himself. She loves him, and she's gentle and encouraging when she needs to be, but she's also blunt as hell and the kick in the ass he often needs. She says the things he needs to hear but is afraid to. She doesn't sugarcoat things for him, but she'd fight to protect him, tooth and nail. And in some circumstances, she has. They've been kicked out of a couple bars in their time.

He loves her, and she's good for him. There are times where he wishes things between them had worked out, but he knows he wouldn't trade what he has with her now for anything. Plus, her and her girlfriend, Becca, are the cutest couple on the goddamn planet, and Jake can see she's a hundred times better for Liddy than he was.

"Okay, so I'm gonna ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me." Her smile fades, and her expression takes on something more serious.

"Okay," he says slowly, leaning back in his seat, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Do you have a crush on Kyle?"

"What?" Jake sputters, eyes widening and mouth falling open. "No!"

Her lips twitch, the ghost of that smile returning. "Are you sure? Because it sure sounds like you have a crush."

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table to get closer to her as he hisses in hushed tones. "I'm not— I don't fully like— swing that way— Liddy, stop laughing. This isn't funny!"

Her lips split into a shit-eating grin, and she has the decency to hide it behind one hand as she smothers her laugh. "I'm sorry, Jake, but— seriously? You're gonna pull the I'm-not-gay card? On me?"

He glares, lifting a hand to point a finger at her. "Don't you dare bring up the threesomes, Liddy, I swear to—"

"We definitely had threesomes, and you were not only the one who instigated them, but you were also the one who was more interested in adding another guy to the mix."

"I thought it's what you wanted!"

"That's definitely not true, and you know it. I was playing with my sexuality and my bisexual identity at that time, just like you were. I wanted another girl."

Jake shifts in his seat, restless and uneasy. He scowls, but he can feel how weak it is. He also knows that Liddy can see right past him, right into the heart of things that he doesn't want to face. He looks away, glare drifting out across the coffee shop. "I wasn't exploring my sexuality." She scoffs, and it sounds like a choked laugh. He turns his glare back to her, finger coming down to jab the tabletop to emphasize his point. "Look, all guys know when another dude is attractive. They just don't like to admit it because they're insecure and think it makes them less masculine."

Liddy hums, one arm resting on the table while the other trails a finger around the lip of her coffee cup. She nods. Her smile has gone from shit-eating grin to gentle and understanding. Kind, but unrelenting. "True, but only a guy who is at least a little attracted to other guys can enjoy himself in a threesome." Her eyes crinkle at the corners, wry amusement in her features. "There's experimentation, and then there's actually enjoying yourself. And you, sir, were enjoying yourself." He glares, but her smile never fades. She leans back in her chair, stretching her legs out alongside the table and hooking one arm around the back of her chair. "Take it from someone who already went through the whole bisexual crisis: it's not that bad."

He sighs, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest again. He stares down at the woodgrain on the table, lost in thought. Brows furrowed, and lips twisted into a frown, he lifts a foot, propping it up on her chair under the table. She doesn't seem at all bothered by it. In fact, she reaches under the table, patting his ankle and calf in a small sign of affection and comfort that he hadn't realized he needed.

He sighs again, letting his frustration leak through. "It's not— I'm not opposed to it. I just... don't think I could ever like... date a dude, you know?"

He's surprised when Liddy laughs, and his eyes snap up to her. Her smile is wry, and her eyes exasperated, but there's a fondness there when she tilts her head. "Jake, can I be blunt with you?"

He raises an eyebrow, sardonic amusement tugging at his lips. "Aren't you always?"

"True. Alright, here it is: you were a shitty boyfriend."

His smile immediately falls. "Liddy, what the fuck—"

She lifts a hand, holding up a finger to stop him. Beneath the table, her hand curls around his ankle, as if trying to physically hold him still to listen. "But, you're an amazing friend. You're a really good guy, Jake. You don't get swept up in a lot of the bullshit around us. You're open minded, caring, and genuinely kind. If you fuck up, you learn from it and accept responsibility. You actually care about people, and you're loyal as hell. But, you're really shitty at being a boyfriend."

"Gee," he says, voice flat and dripping with sarcasm. "Thanks, Liddy. I always knew you cared."

Her smile twitches upward, and the hand on his ankle moves to pat at his calf. "Don't take it personally."

He snorts. "Don't take it personally that you just said I'm shitty to date? Alright. Easy."

"Just listen, okay? ’Cause I'm about to tell you something you're gonna hate hearing, but I need you to listen." She pins him with a pointed stare, and he purses his lips, saying nothing. She only continues once she's sure she has his attention, and when she speaks, she stubbornly holds eye contact. "You've always been more interested in how you look with a girl, than you have been about the girl herself."

"That's not true," he says it automatically, but the trickling of doubt is just as instant.

Her smile isn't triumphant so much as it's sympathetic. "Yeah, it is, Jake. You're better than a lot of guys in your position, but you still care way too much about how you're seen with the girls you date. I bet I know more about the girl's you’ve dated in college than you do."

He looks at her then and really takes a moment to see her. He's always known he had a type, but he assumed it was just that: a type. In high school, she had been exactly like all the other girls he tended to date: conventionally pretty, outgoing, understands sports but isn't too active herself, and into him. Now she looks completely different. The side of her head is shaved, the rest of her hair sweeping over the top of her head to fall in long waves on the other side. Her ears are decorated in studs, and there's a piercing in her eyebrow, nose, and lip. Two more studs shine just below her collarbones, just above her shirt's collar.

She doesn't look anything like the girls he likes to date, but she looks a lot more comfortable in her own skin. She's still pretty. It's just in a different way. Still, as much as he loves her, as pretty as she is, he realizes with startling clarity that even if she wanted to date him again... he wouldn't.

Liddy shattered the glass, and now it falls into pieces slowly, revealing a truth Jake had never considered.

He wouldn't date Liddy again, not because of her or their past, but because she no longer fits his style. She no longer looks like the conventionally pretty cheerleader-type that he dates. She has far more personality, far more compassion, and is far smarter than the girls he dates.

How long has he been like this and why hasn't he noticed?

Is it really his type, or is it just something that's been programed into him that he should like because that's what his parents and friends would approve of? Because that's the type he's expected to date?

He shakes his head. It's a lot to take in, and a lot to consider. He feels nauseous, stomach rolling and chest too tight. "I'm not... that shallow, am I?"

Liddy's hand squeezes his ankle. She leans forward to put her other hand on his arm. Her eyes are gentle and kind, and her smile encouraging, holding him together. "Not on purpose. I think it's just habit. I'm not telling you to go out and do something about it or to like... declare your love for this kid, but like... think about what I said, okay? This is the first time I've ever seen you genuinely interested in a person, and I don't want you to deny yourself because he's not your usual type. Just... listen to yourself, alright?"

His smile wavers, and his throat feels tight. "Alright," he whispers, taking in a shaky breath. "I'll think about it."

She pats his arm, leaning back and standing up from her seat. "Good. Now enough of this mushy stuff. We have enough time before class for me to kick your ass in a game of pool at the game hall on campus."

His smile widens, gaining confidence and appreciation as the conversation is turned into more familiar territory. "You wish."