46. What Do You Want (Patreon)

"So... that's it, then?" Sasha asks. "You're just going to let him be?"

"Yes," a grumpy Tara responds. "'That's it.' I'll watch him and stop him if he tries to hurt anyone. What else would you have me do?"

Sasha, Alex, Sam, Thomas, Tara, and of course myself are all on our way out of the forest, the sun having started to set. The group has been talking for hours, asking Tara about what she is, where she came from, and all sorts of other things. Inevitably, however, as we return for dinner the group's focus moves back to the man Tara had gotten arrested... to much less effect than anyone would have liked.

"He should pay for what he's done," Sasha growls.

"He will pay," Alex said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Probably. It'll just take a while to happen, and be a disproportionately minor punishment."

"If that," Thomas mentions grimly.

"Well if he gets away with it we can deal with it then, but I'm not going to kidnap or murder anyone!" Tara snaps.

"I'm not saying you have to kill him, I'm just saying you should make him regret ever living in the first place," Sasha hisses.

"I'm not torturing anyone either! Solving problems with force is a last resort."

"You didn't think so when you broke his arm."

"Okay then!" Samantha says loudly, stepping between the two of them. "I think that's about all we're getting out of that conversation for now, don't you? How about we swap back to easy questions, like 'Arby's or Taco Bell?'"

I manage to quirk my lips gratefully in Sam's direction. I'm not sure I could survive another minute of that argument. Conflict is just... too much after too long a day being around people.

"That is not an easy question," Thomas protests, the conversation naturally continuing without my input.

"Sam, we just found out we have a visitor from another planet, and you want to take her to fucking Taco Bell!?" Alex asks incredulously.

"I like Taco Bell!"

"Yeah, until about five minutes after eating it!"

Tara shakes her head with amusement, opting to punctuate her own opinion by ripping a chunk of bark off a nearby tree and biting down on it with a loud crunch.

"I'm fine with anything," she says while chewing.

That leaves everyone speechless for a while, so I muster the last of my strength and manage to mumble something incoherent in the pause.

"Sorry Evelyn, what was that?" Alex asks.

"I said I should head home instead," I murmur a bit louder. "Homework and... stuff."

Tara focused on me, bugs of the forest shifting subtly in ways I've learned no one else sees. A little spark of comfort flickers inside me, though it's hard to feel through the crushing anxiety.

"Of course," Tara said, her smile understanding. "I'll walk you home, then."

"N-no!" I stammer. "You don't have to do that. You should go out."

"Evelyn, you dork," she says with amusement. "I can do both."

Stepping out of the forest, I quickly spot a second Tara body making her way towards the group. She smiles and waves, the nearby body just looking smug.

Both Taras are dressed in one of the outfits Sasha picked out, and they waste no time lining up side by side and mirroring each other's poses. Sasha's anger is immediately forgotten; in fact, it looks like she's so excited that she's about to have a stroke.

"Evelyn! Which outfit do you like best?" Tara asks, both bodies preening.

I don't really feel focused enough to answer that, though. My eyes keep wandering to the rest of the group. They're Sam's friends, maybe even Tara's friends, but as nice as they are I can't form bonds quite that easily. They still make me uncomfortable, even if there's no good reason they should. Plus, right now they look uncomfortable as well (perhaps apart from Sasha) and that only adds to my anxiety. Their discomfort makes sense, of course. They're finally starting to put together what exactly Tara is, her true limitlessness. There's no one I feel more comfortable around than Tara, but sometimes it's scary even for me.

"Evelyn?"

"Huh?" I say, blinking. "Oh. Uh. They're both... nice? Either is fine."

"Either is fine?" Alex whispers to Sam, who nods grimly for some reason. Alex pats her on the back.

What? Is this one of those things where not picking something is bad? What am I supposed to say? I don't know anything about fashion, I go everywhere in a t-shirt, pants, and a bra. My social tank is already running on fumes anyway, there's no way I can fake this. I don't understand. It's just another anxiety to add to the pile.

Tara seems to pick up on this at least, ending her posing and side-hugging me with the body I walked here with, dragging me lightly towards our dorm.

"I'll quit teasing you," she reassures me. "Let's go."

Her other body starts the trek towards the restaurant strip, guiding the others that way. I, meanwhile, am gently pushed back towards campus and eventually the dorms. My mind wanders for the whole journey, causing me to fumble and drop my key when the surprise of suddenly reaching me home shakes me. Tara chuckles as my face goes beet red, but soon I'm home. I can finally just collapse on a bed with my phone and stop existing for a while.

"I hope you had a good time, at least," Tara says bemusedly, tossing a pair of hot pockets into the microwave.

I manage to peer through the fog of exhaustion and anxiety long enough to decide that, yes, today has been a pretty good day. I'm done with it and it's all the day I can handle, but overall it went well. Tara has more real friends, I've got the start of what might be more real friends, and I even got to drink Coca-Cola out of the fancy glass bottle.

"Yeah," I agree, summing up that thought process with every word I can muster. At this point I'm already lying sideways on the bed with five different tabs open. Oh, neat, they found a new species of beetle.

A plate is set in front of me, complete with a magma-filled hot pocket. Tara sits on my bed by my feet, her own boiling bread bomb in one hand and a book in the other. I nibble the corners off of mine, careful not to burn my mouth as deadly steam hisses out of my quintessential college dinner. Hopefully, I'll finish the rest during that sweet spot where it's cold enough not to murder me but warm enough to not have become an unchewable brick. Tara, like the alien monster she is, just devours it hot.

I love these moments, resting and vegging out with my friend just close enough to touch. They're obligation-free. Tara is content to read in silence, leaving me to passively soak up joy from her presence without the anxiety of social interaction. It's exactly what I need after an exhausting day.

"You still out with the others?" I ask after nearly an hour of silence.

"I am, yes," Tara answers, eyes still locked on her book. "Dinner tasted about the same as all your processed foods, but I seem to be having less trouble digesting it than the others. Are mutual bowel issues supposed to be a bonding exercise?"

"Only when you eat Mexican food," I inform her.

"Truly, the sophistication of your people's culture is without peer," Tara responds solemnly.

I nod, smiling at the joke, and am soon lost in the depths of my phone again. It's some time before more words are spoken, this time starting from Tara.

"Alex just asked me a question, and I'm not sure how to answer."

"Well, what's the question?" I ask without looking up.

"Are you my girlfriend?"

I try to blurt out a confused noise and swallow saliva at the same time, choking hard as my heart rate rises rapidly. Tara, having seen this a few times before, waits patiently with an amused expression.

"What!?" I eventually manage to cough out.

"Are you my girlfriend," Tara says again, nearly causing my chest to explode. "As in, are we more than just friends? Apparently the fact that we live together and hug a lot indicates this is a possibility, but I must admit I'm a bit unclear about the whole classification. It stands to reason, though, that I cannot be your girlfriend without your say-so."

"Uh-b-b-b-b-b-buh?"

Tara chuckles, placing her hand on my head.

"I do love you, you know," she admits, and I blush so red I'm certain I'll burst. "Do you love me as well?"

And though my entire brain is on fire, screaming and flailing and running only on emergency power, the unending joy flowing through me speaks a clear answer.

"Yes."

Tara smiles wide, the warmth and wonder of my world personified.

"...But I don't know if that makes us girlfriends," I continue with all the tact of a barreling freight train.

I brace for emotional impact. Shit did I really say that out loud? Gah, but what am supposed to say? I feel so awful, I love her so dang much but I just don't know if I love her like that, it's so weird and confusing! Yet when I peek my eyes back open, Tara seems more confused than hurt. Her head is tilted to the side, considering my words like she would any other interesting puzzle.

"...Okay," Tara posits, "again, I am not terribly familiar with the nuance of the label. It's a complicated cultural conundrum with dozens if not hundreds of possible meanings. And just to be clear, I have zero context about it. So correct me if I'm wrong, but I think you're saying… you don't want to have sex with me? Which is fine, if surprising. I suppose I just misinterpreted quite a few signs."

I squeak wordlessly.

"You've certainly smelled aroused when you look at me. Not all the time, and not as often as when you stare at Thomas, but I think I've figured out that scent fairly reliably."

"Tara—"

"And the day after you saw my human form for the first time you locked yourself in the bathroom and looked at naked women on your phone for an hour, even though you told me not to do things like that."

"Tara!"

"I know, I know, don't watch people in bathrooms. But you were in there for an hour! I was worried! And the point is you seemed to like it, so—"

"TARA!" I yelp, so much blood pooling in my face I can feel my limbs going numb, "S-stop! I can't..."

I can't even manage to choke out the rest of that sentence, but she stops talking all the same. She even has the decency not to grin as I slowly flushed away my embarrassment, though I'd bet diamonds that she's uproariously laughing somewhere in the world. Still, the both of us just wait in silence, time ticking away as the shrieking anxiety cooled. Tara is patient. It's one of the things I love about her.

"Tara..." I eventually manage to ask, "did you want to have sex with me?"

The alien girl blinks.

"No," she says frankly. "Not particularly."

I sigh.

"Then why are you even asking? It should be settled, then." There's no way I'd ever even think of it if Tara didn't want it just as much as I do.

Tara sighs, sitting sideways as she puts her weight on one arm.

"Because I'd want to if you want to. It's not exactly 'my thing,' is all. I don't have any particular desire for the action, but I don't have any particular revulsion either. It's just… not a thing, in my life? About once a year I just head to some government office, lay a bunch of unfertilized eggs there, and then if a man wants to come turn them into babies and raise them he can apply to do that. The way you think about sex isn't even a concept in my culture, we're not biologically equipped for it that way. And my new species has transcended sexual reproduction altogether. What do I care for an orgasm? If I want to flood my brain with dopamine, I can just do that manually. Or I could just find something new to eat. The idea of intercourse does not have any sort of inherent appeal to me. But the idea of making you happy..."

She leans forward, poking me on the forehead.

"...Is, without question, my favorite thing on Earth. And perhaps my home planet, too."

My mind ceases to function entirely, filled with an indescribable complexity of joy, wonder, satisfaction... this is really happening, isn't it? The person I love, the coolest, most incredibly amazing miracle on the entire planet, loves me. Really, actually loves me. And I love her back. Nothing else I've ever known compares to this feeling. Yet, in the back of my mind, a burning doubt rings, pushing a question to my lips.

"Why me?" I ask, fear and confusion pulsing through the joy. My old friend anxiety, ringing the alarms in my head. This couldn't actually be happening, right?

"Oh, Evelyn," Tara says sadly. "Why not you? You're intelligent. Well-read. Well-spoken, if given time to think. The passion you give to your topics of interest is inspiring. It's a joy to listen to you talk. And... you care. You care so much. About people, about the world, about stories and bugs and the rich and the impoverished and everything in between. You are wonderful."

Monsters of emotion war in my head head, though, and I still eke out more protests.

"You're... you're you! You probably know dozens of smart people!"

"Mmm, perhaps. But none of them are you."

"I'm a mess!" I argue.

"You're a cute mess," Tara counters, smirking once again. "Evelyn, at what point did you get the impression that you would have to be perfect to be loved? Do you think I'm anything but a hot mess of problems, held together with sticks and glue? You just... don't see my failures as much, Evelyn. I want you to think I'm 'cool,' after all, so I put on somewhat of a... brave face. In reality, I'm just as bad as you."

But she isn't as bad as me. That's self-evident. She's out there, having fun with nice people who want to be my friend, and I'm curled up in here, too much of a failure to face them. Tara is traveling the world, constantly learning and growing, and I'm completely paralyzed by what should be a happy conversation. As bad as me? Really? She's the most incredible being on the entire planet! That's not even remotely an exaggeration. Nothing in nature or made by human hands can compare to her. Her words are shallow. They don't ring true.

"Okay," I say anyway. It's all I can manage.

Tara nods in acquiescence. If she picks up on my doubts, she doesn't comment on them.

"So… all this being the case, should I tell them you're still available?" she asks with a smirk. "It's all right if you're holding out for a better beau."

"No!" I say a bit too quickly. "No, I mean… maybe? I don't know. It's complicated! I'm still… wrapping my head around everything. I just… this is new to me. I always imagined myself with a boy someday. Maybe I'm more of a bigot than I thought."

Tara shifts uncomfortably.

"Do you… want me to be a boy?"

What? Oh. I guess… she can do that. I'm so tired, though. I don’t want to talk anymore. I just want to slowly dissolve into nothing, wait for tomorrow morning, and go look at bugs. But for this, for her, I find just a bit more energy.

"...Do you want to be a boy?" I ask slowly.

She grimaces and shrugs.

"Not particularly?"

"Well, what do you want to be?"

There’s a long pause, as the one creature on the planet that could truly become anything they imagine considers that question with the full gravity of her being.

"A good person," Tara answers softly.

Oh. I scoot over and give my friend a hug, curling around her as she stares out the window. I'm out of words for today, but at least I can do that.

The two of us, eventually, drift off to sleep.

…

I wake up to waves upon waves of emotion flowing over me in sequence. Tara. Oh my god, Tara. How could I…? How could I forget…?

Tears flow from all my bodies that are capable of the act. I miss her. I miss her so much. How did I even end up here, in the same situation as her? It has to be the same people that did whatever they did to her, right? Who are they? How did they do this to us? How do we get home?

"Evelyn?" Hsthressis asks me softly, lightly poking one of my ETEs. "Are you okay?"

"I loved her," I sob. "I loved her so much."

"I… um, I know," she says. "I did too, when we were asleep. Do you think she's okay?"

"I don't know," I admit.

"Do you think what happened to me is what happened to you?" she asks.

"I don't know," I repeat.

"What if… what if this is all a simulation?" she asks. "Like we're only functions of her mind, or something. The way you used to simulate me."

"I don't know," I say a third time. "...But I doubt it. There's not enough processing power. I can simulate your mind, sure. It takes me one brain to simulate one brain. My hardware is perfect for that task. But I can't even begin to simulate an entire planet. Like, even if the vast majority of our experience is conveyed to us as a heuristic we're forced to ignore rather than a complete calculation, I just… I'm doing a lot. I'm in a lot of places at once. Tara would probably need a brain the size of the sun to simulate all this."

Plus, I refuse to acknowledge any theory that delegitimizes the personhood of the many Sthrenslians I'm dedicating myself to help.

"It's a lot to take in even for you, huh?" Hsthressis asks.

"Yeah," I admit. "Honestly, I'm tempted to just go back to sleep again."

"Why's that?"

"Well… I really wanna know if my past self worked up the self-confidence to actually date her," I admit.

Hsthressis stares at me. I stare back.

"Heh," she chuckles, twisting her tendril in a smug expression. "Gay."

I send her the memory of inhaling a dog fart and get up to start my day, whistling to the lovely tune of her indignant complaints.