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Evan and Cam sat at the kitchen table, mugs of coffee in hand, the early morning light casting a soft glow over the room. The silence between them was companionable, but Cam's curiosity was clearly bubbling beneath the surface. He leaned back in his chair, watching Evan thoughtfully.
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"Hey," Cam began, his voice breaking the quiet. "I’ve been meaning to ask… what’s the deal with the bikini tops under her shirts? Like, she always wears them instead of regular bras. Is that a thing or…?"
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Evan chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, it’s a thing. She doesn’t really like regular bras. Says they don’t keep anything in place and just feel wrong. But bikini tops? I don’t know—they work for her. She feels more secure, I guess." He shrugged, but his tone carried a hint of understanding. "It’s her way of being comfortable, and honestly, I’m not going to fight her on it. There’s bigger stuff to worry about."
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Cam nodded slowly, processing the explanation. "Makes sense. She’s like… she’s you, man. Just the girl version."
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Evan smirked. "Yeah, I’ve noticed that. It’s kind of scary how similar we are sometimes. She’s got the same sarcasm, the same taste in music, and, apparently, the same love for red and black."
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"And the same habit of staring at emo guys with cowboy boots," Cam teased, smirking.
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Evan rolled his eyes. "Don’t remind me. She’s got this whole aesthetic thing she likes. Emo guys with cowboy boots or hats or some necklace. It’s weirdly specific, but hey, everyone’s got their type."
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Cam laughed, shaking his head. "You’ve got your hands full with her, that’s for sure."
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The mood shifted slightly as Cam’s expression turned more serious. "So… she’s really never touched your stuff, huh? Like, your current stuff?"
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Evan shook his head. "Nope. Never. She doesn’t touch anything I’m actively using. But I caught her once with one of my old shirts—like, two years old. She didn’t know I saw her, but she was holding it, just… looking at it like it was some kind of comfort thing." His voice softened, his mind clearly replaying the memory. "It hit me then how much she looks to me for stability, even if she doesn’t say it outright."
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Cam nodded thoughtfully. "She’s never hugged me, you know. Not unless she’s sick. And you—well, you don’t get one unless she’s crying, hurt, or running into something."
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Evan sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah. That’s just how she is. It’s not that she doesn’t care—she does, in her own way. She just… holds back. I get it, though. After everything she’s been through, she’s careful about who she lets in."
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The two fell silent for a moment before Cam spoke again. "So, about her past… how do you even deal with all of it? Like, the SA, the SH, the miscarriages? It’s… heavy."
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Evan’s face darkened slightly, the weight of the question settling on him. "I take it one day at a time, man. I don’t push her to talk about anything she’s not ready to. She opens up when she’s ready, and I just… listen. The miscarriages hit her hard. I think it’s why she’s so guarded now. And the SH? It’s a constant battle. But she’s a fighter. Even when she doesn’t believe it, I do."
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Cam nodded, clearly moved by Evan’s honesty. "And the religion thing? Like, crosses and all that? I know neither of you are religious, but she wears one sometimes."
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Evan smirked faintly. "Yeah, we’re not religious. The cross thing is more… symbolic. She likes it because it’s something solid, something that doesn’t change. And honestly? I think it’s her way of saying, ‘This is mine.’ She’s been through so much where she’s had no control. The cross, her style, the way she wears her clothes—it’s all her staking her claim on herself."
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Cam leaned back, exhaling slowly. "Man… you’re good at this. I don’t know how you handle it all. Especially the… y’know, the girl stuff."
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Evan chuckled dryly. "I’m not. I just wing it. I’ve learned more about pads, tampons, and lotions than I ever thought I would. Speaking of which…" His brow furrowed as he glanced at the clock. "Why is she taking so long in the shower? It’s been more than 15 minutes."
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Cam raised an eyebrow. "Lotion. She’s probably putting it on. You know she’s obsessed with that cherry-scented stuff."
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Evan shook his head, a hint of worry creeping into his voice. "Or she’s SHing."
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Cam’s expression grew serious. "Shit. If she is, the doctor’s gonna see it during her physical today. And if that happens, we’re getting sent to the ER for a psych eval and an exam by a female doctor."
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Evan groaned, running a hand through his hair. "I’ll go check on her. If she’s taking too long, it’s probably because she’s overthinking. She’ll spiral if we don’t ground her."
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Cam nodded, standing up as Evan headed toward the bathroom. "Good luck, man. And hey… remind her we’ve got her, no matter what."
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Evan gave a small nod, his hand already on the bathroom door as he prepared to handle whatever waited on the other side.
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