You watch as she pulls the second small wheel from the bar that held it on. She rolls the bike over to you, prompting you to get on. You lift your leg over the seat, as you had plenty of times before, sitting and placing your feet on the pedals. You begin to pedal, shaking out of nervousness. She keeps her hands on your seat, walking alongside you.
“Yeah! See you’ve got this! Now pedal a bit faster.” The nervousness begins to wash away. You know you can trust her. You’ve known her for ten minutes but you know you can trust her. You begin to pedal faster, feeling the bike become more sturdy.
“The speed helps keep the bike up. See?”
“Yeah!” You look over to her and see her smiling. You smile as well. “What’s your name?”
“Olive! Yours?”
You tell her your name and look ahead again, not wanting to accidentally steer yourself into a tree. You continue to pick up speed, feeling more confident.
“Woo! Look at you go! Keep going!”
You realize she’s let go. You’re on your own now. You feel that nervousness begin to bubble up again but you try to push it down. You’ve got this. Except for the path splits up ahead. You know the best way to go is left, but can you handle the turn? The answer is no. You end up on your hands and knees next to your fallen bike.
She runs up to you, pulling a small box out of the bag she had strapped across her body. Tears begin to stream down your face. She sits you against a tree and puts a large Band-Aid on each of your bleeding palms. She puts her hands on your face, wiping your tears away with her thumbs.
“You did so well. Do you want to try again?”
***
“Happy ten year Friend-iversary!!” Wren hands you a cupcake with a small bike drawn in icing on it.
You’ve been best friends ever since they taught you how to ride a bike without training wheels. You’ve been through many highs and lows together. You’ve both come out to each other multiple times, You once as bisexual and once as nonbinary. Her as Lesbian and genderfluid, going by she/they/he and eventually changing their name to Wren. You’ve both always supported each other, no matter what. Even if one of you is in a questionable relationship.
Speaking of, here she comes. Hairen, Wren’s sophomore, not-so-great girlfriend, who’s a year older than you and Wren, walks up beside Wren, wrapping an arm around her back.
“Oh hey,” Wren begins to speak to her before she’s interrupted by Hairen.
“Imma have to cancel that lunch tomorrow ‘cause I’m going to a party tonight and I plan on getting Hammered so I’ll be too hungover.”
“ Oh I didn’t know you were going to a party…”
“Yeah, because I just now told you. Anyway, that’s all I came over here for.”
Hairen leans over to kiss Wren’s forehead. Gross. But before Hairen’s lips meet their head, she turns her head away. Whoa.
“What the fuck was that?”
“I can’t do this anymore. You treat me like I’m not even here, like you’re talking to my invisible ghost instead of my actual, physical person, and I can’t take it anymore. I don’t think we’re meant for each other.”
Hairen’s face remains expressionless as you watch a tear fall from Wren’s cheek.
“Fine, bitch. Have it your way I guess.”
You and Wren watch as Hairen walks away and begins talking to two of her friends, pointing in your direction. You give a solemn look towards Wren and they hug you, throwing her hands around your midsection. It’s a strong, desperate hug. She’s silently begging for you to comfort her, to hold her. To take her pain away. You wrap your arms around her, one hand resting between her shoulder blades, the other holding their head close. You let them cry. You miss the first period of the day but this is more important. Loved one’s always come first.
“Talk to me, baby. What’s up?”
You listen to her as she talks about feeling neglected all the time. But the conversation slowly turns from being neglected by Hairen, to being neglected by her parents. You realize she has a lot that she needs to get out and now’s her time. You’re prepared to sit here, holding her patiently for however long it takes to hear every single word she needs to get out. They talk about feeling like they're disappointing their family, the stress of school, and their immense lack of energy. Eventually she says something that you really pay attention to.
“I never even wanted to change my name!”
What?
“ I like the name Olive! I only changed it because when I first came out with they/them pronouns nobody listened! I thought the name change would make everyone pay better attention to my pronouns, and it did for a while, until I changed my pronouns to she/he/they! Now I just feel like everybody uses the name but really only ever used she/her pronouns! Some people use they/them sometimes but nobody ever uses he/him! Nobody listens! Hairen said ‘Oh I don’t use he/him because I don’t want to feel like I’m dating a boy,’ like what the fuck? Wren doesn’t even feel like me anymore! Wren feels like a different person! A facade that I put on to make people feel like they're being supportive and make people happy but that’s not how I really feel!”
You realize that you’re guilty of this. Only ever using she/they because he/him feels like you’re calling them a man. You realize that genderfluid means all. They are fluid. That is the point. They sometimes are a little bit of everything. You finally understand.
“Olive…I’m”
“Don’t say sorry. Don’t apologize. You couldn’t have possibly known how I feel without me saying something. How are you meant to fix an issue you don’t know about?”
“Fair. But still. Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“Fear of judgment. If I have any emotion other than happiness and have any opinions that aren’t exactly the same as who I’m talking to, I’ll be judged. I hate feeling like I’m being judged, and that’s always how I feel. Judged.”
***
It’s been four years and you and Olive have only grown closer. You both talk everyday and you’ve helped him learn to speak up. They’ve helped you to discover new music. You quite literally are sent at least three songs a day and you listen to Every. Single. One. Olive has sent songs almost every day for nearly a year. You adore them. You love adding each song to different playlists. You love hearing these songs you were sent come on the radio and being able to sing them with Olive.
You’re sitting on your bed, munching on some ‘grandma candy’ as you call it, and listening to ‘Training Wheels’ by Melanie Martinez, a song Olive sent you this morning that you’ve been listening to on repeat all day, when you receive a message from Olive.
Your chariot has arrived, your majesty
4:23pm
You chuckle and get up, walking out of your bedroom, towards the front door. You grab your keys off of the hook by the door before patting your pockets to make sure you’ve got your wallet. Phone? Yep. Wallet? Uh-huh. Keys? Yes. You’re ready to go. You walk out into the hall of your dorm building and turn to go to the door at the end of the hallway. You press your hand against the bar labeled ‘PUSH’ and open the door. You look at the cars in the parking lot, spotting Olive’s red Jeep Cherokee in the row nearest your dorm building. You walk to the car, opening the passenger door and hanging on to the roof of the car as you swing your body into the seat. You shut the door and grab the seat belt from your right, pulling it across your chest and inserting the end of it into the connector on your left. Click!
“Hey! You ready?”
“I’m never ready when you’re the one driving,” you say as you fake puking. Olive’s driving isn’t as bad as you joke it is, but that doesn’t mean it's all that great either.
“Oh suck it up.” Olive grabs the gearstick, pulling it back into drive, and begins to pull out of the parking lot as she reaches her hand out towards the radio. They press the knob labeled ‘POWER’ and the radio begins to play a song, beginning at the chorus. You recognize the song. It’s one that Olive sent you. First Love/Late Spring by Mitski. You both begin to sing along. It’s not the happiest of songs but you both begin to giggle at yourselves.
“So please, hurry, leave me, I can’t breathe. Please don’t say you love me.”
You find yourself thinking the opposite of the lyrics you sing. You listen to Olive giggle as he sings. You love when they’re happy. You’ve seen him as his worst and it always makes you feel good to hear that laugh. To know that she’s doing better.
Olive pulls into a parking spot and moves the gear stick into the parked position. You never really knew where you were going, as Olive had just texted you asking if you wanted to hang out, never specifying what his plans were. You look around, trying to figure out where they’d taken you. You recognize the area as a park where you used to go hiking with Olive when you were younger. How sweet! You press the red button on your seat belt connector, causing the seat belt to retract into its original form, flat against the interior of the car. Olive does the same and you both open your doors, stepping onto the pavement outside. Olive opens the back door and reaches into the back seat of the car, pulling out a picnic basket. You remember bringing Olive with you on family picnics in middle school. What a wonderful surprise! Olive leads you down a familiar trail called ‘Castle Rim Trail.’ You think about the many times you’ve been on this trail with your family, including Olive, and all the good memories you have of this place. You look around at the trees and the steep cliff you’re walking along. You notice a bird's nest with eggs in one of the trees as you walk past it. Isn’t nature just beautiful?
Eventually Olive turns off of the trail and onto a small path leading towards the picnic table you used to always eat at when you were little.
“Aww Olive! What is all this for? This is such a cute little nostalgic date!”
Olive’s cheeks flushed a bit, barely noticeable. You both sit across from each other at the table. Olive sets the basket on the table and you both begin to unpack the food. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, white cheddar popcorn, a mixed bag of chocolates, homemade brownies, chocolate drink boxes.
“It’s funny you should say that because there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
You notice that Olive seems nervous. You reach across the table, gently taking hold of Olive’s hand. A soft gesture to say ‘It’s okay. You’re safe. I won’t judge you.’ Olive looks into your eyes, takes a deep breath, and begins to speak,
“I don’t want this to ruin our relationship or make anything weird but I can’t bear to keep secrets from you. I haven’t kept any secrets from you in four years and it just feels wrong to keep secrets anymore. So I have to let you know that I love you. Not just like friends like we’ve been saying for fourteen years. I love you. I understand that you may not feel the same, I don’t expect you to, but I simply couldn’t keep that from you.”
You watch them as they talk, absorbing every word. You’re shocked. You’ve never really thought about romantic relationships before, never really seeing a reason to get involved in the dating world. You don’t need more attention, Olive gives you all the attention you could possibly need. You don’t need someone you can be completely open with, you’re already completely open Olive. Anything you could possibly want or need out of a relationship, you get with Olive. You sit for a moment, staring into Olive’s eyes, pondering the thought. You’ve never had such an adoration for somebody the way you do for Olive. You’d never really thought about it before. Was that love? Is that what caused you to care so much?
“I love you too. I always have.”
You stand up, still holding Olive’s hand on the table as you do. Olive follow’s your movements, pushing himself up with his free hand, leaning over the table when you do. You put your free hand up to Olive’s cheek, your pinky falling behind her ear. Your eyelids flutter shut as you softly touch your lips to Olive’s, stealing a bit of their shimmery lip gloss in the process. You both linger there for a few seconds before you pull back and look into their eyes. You both sit back down, hands never parting, both completely flushed.
You both enjoy your picnic, talking about the excitement of your newly formed relationship. After cleaning up the picnic, you walk back to Olive’s car, hand-in-hand. When you both get in the car, Olive turns on the radio as it plays the last few seconds of whatever song was playing. As Olive begins to pull out of the parking lot, you hear a familiar xylophone melody. You’d been listening to it all day. It’s the song Olive had sent you that morning.
“Riding down, riding down.
My hand on your seat the whole way ‘round.
I carry Band-Aid’s on me now.
For when your soft hands hit the jagged ground.”
You think about when you met Olive, riding your bike without training wheels for the first time, falling and scraping your hands. You think about how Olive was so quick to bandage your hands and encourage you to try again.
“Wheels aren’t even touching the ground.
Scared to take them off,
but they’re so worn down.
Promise I won’t push you straight to the dirt.
If you promise me,
You’ll take them off first.
You think about the day Olive broke up with Hairen. When he opened up and let you see every bit of him. Everything she’d been keeping a secret. Scared of being judged and keeping all of their emotions to themself.
“I love everything you do.
When you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit I do.
I want to ride my bike with you.
Fully undressed,
No training wheels left for you.
I’ll pull them off for you.”
You realize this song wasn’t just any random song that Olive sent you. This wasn’t just something she heard while driving to class and decided to send you. She meant this. This song was directed towards you.
“Letting go, letting go.
Telling you things you already know.
I explode, I explode.
Asking you where you want us to go.
You’ve been riding two wheelers all your life
It’s not like I’m asking to be your wife
I want to make you mine,
But that’s hard to say.
Is this coming off in a cheesy way?”
A little bit, you think. It’s a little bit cheesy. The picnic, the kiss, the song. It’s all a little bit cheesy. But that's okay. You like cheesy sometimes. That’s why you like Hallmark movies so much. You look over to Olive and see them mouthing the words to the song. You begin to sing aloud. He looks over to you and smiles. They turn their head back to the road and sing with you.
“I love everything you do.
When you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit I do.
I want to ride my bike with you.
Fully undressed,
No training wheels left for you.
I’ll pull them off for you.”
***