George and Andy: Nerd Lovers

George’s answered his cell phone. “Hey, Fiona. How’s it going?”

Fiona trilled, “George! You want to go to a party Friday night; I know you do.” Fiona’s voice lilted higher on the end note. 

Fiona usually invited George to Center for Sexuality and Gender Diversity social events when there was someone new and exciting to meet. They must be cute because Fiona sounded excited, talking quickly and in a higher register. George assumed Fiona was looking for a second opinion.

“The Center having an event? Sure, I’ll be your wing man.”

“Funny. Yes, there is a mixer. I’ll text you the details. Thanks, buddy, see you then. Gotta go, lots to do.”

After saying, “I will see you then,” George ended the call. 

George was excited for Fiona, and his curiosity peaked. Fiona and George defined attractiveness the same when it came to women. Flirting by proxy was much easier for George than talking directly to a woman he’s interested in, so he looked forward to playing ‘wingman.’

On Friday night, George went to the home that was hosting the party with a bit of eagerness. But unfortunately, he got a little turned around in the unfamiliar neighborhood and accidentally arrived fashionably late. At the door, George picked up a name tag and a “He/Him” pronoun button and added a “straight ally” sticker to it. Then, he started looking for Fiona.

George found Fiona in the kitchen wearing a “They/Them” button with a “Pan” sticker and a drink in hand. They were engaged in an animated conversation with a beautiful person presenting as female whose button and sticker identified her as Andy, “She/Her,” and bisexual. 

Andy was short, probably five feet even to Fiona’s five foot two. At five foot five inches, George was the tallest of the three. George always felt short around other men, but he felt like a giant near Fiona and Andy.

Andy wore a lacy white blouse that’s form-fitting cut revealed a petite athletic build. She was curvy and very feminine, and her top showed some cleavage. While her shirt highlighted her snow-white skin, her red floor-length skirt set off her hair. She had dark red hair that could be mistaken for brown in dim light with lighter strawberry highlights that appeared natural. She had light freckles on her rosy cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She seemed to be in her mid to late twenties. Her skirt flowed and twisted side to side slowly as she talked to Fiona. 

George tried not to look like a wolf assessing a meal, but Andy was heavenly to his eyes. George made eye contact with Fiona as he waited at a comfortable distance and was waved over. George was excited for Fiona but felt his nerves beginning to build. He had to concentrate on walking.

Fiona sat their cup on the counter and greeted George with a tight hug, cheek to cheek, then turned to Andy. “Andy, George. George, Andy. Andy and I paint in a class at the Center, although I think she could teach it. George is one of my dearest friends.”

George faced Andy, and his ears burned with embarrassment as he tried to speak to her. “Um, yeah, hi.”

Fiona put their fist to their mouth to stifle a fake cough, almost covering their grin and laugh while Andy replied, “Nice tae mak yer acquaintance.” [Andy spoke with a mild Scottish brogue, so what she said was, “Nice to make your acquaintance.”] 

Finding the accent delightful but surprising, he glanced at Fiona, trying hard to mask his reaction. Fiona gave George a big smile, raised their eyebrows, then nodded with a questioning look. George knew this was code for ‘I did good, right?!?’

Andy reached out her hand, and George started to extend a fist to bump, realized his mistake, and shifted to an open palm as Andy closed her hand to make a fist. George ended up griping Andy’s closed fist. Fiona did not try to hide their snicker.

George tried to stammer an apology, but Andy cut him off, “Nah, nah, ye’ar fin.” [“No, no, you’re fine.”]

George’s face was turning a bright red. Finally, Fiona rescued George by saying, “George, you’re drinkless. Andy, your glass is almost empty. That’ll never do.”

Fiona grabbed Andy’s glass and handed it to George, then picked up an empty plastic cup with ‘Fiona (they/them)’ written on the side in clear block letters in rainbow colors from the kitchen counter. Fiona looped their free arm through George’s and dragged him off to the punch bowl. George mused that even Andy’s swirly script on her cup was cute. There was even a tiny dragon head.

Fiona whispered to George, “Don’t worry, I got your wing, and I’m on my best behavior.” He had been starting to relax at being rescued from his awkward greeting, feeling the heat in his face go from high to medium. Then George registered what Fiona had said. Had he been set up? Had Fiona brought him to the party to introduce him to Andy, not get a second opinion on a future conquest?

Fiona gripped George’s shoulder when they reached the punch bowl, “George! You are all tense.” George hadn’t realized just how wound up he had gotten. He took a deep breath for Fiona’s satisfaction and gave them an ‘are you happy now?’ look.

Fiona just grinned at George and said more seriously, “What’s going on in your head? How are you doing?”

George looked around for anyone close as they began to fill cups and whispered to Fiona, “My god, she’s unearthly.”

Fiona giggled back, “I know, right? I’d call dibs, but you’re obviously already in love.” 

George blanched and replied a little too defensively, “Stop, I am not.”

Fiona just smiled, then said, “Mmmm, hmmm. Of course not. Then you, wouldn’t mind if I ask her out?”

George stood up a little straighter. He said, “It’s completely up to her to decide what she wants to do.”

Fiona nudged George with their elbow and ended the teasing with, “Good boy. Shall we?” Fiona fixed George with a reassuring smile. George took one more obvious breath and nodded.

George and Fiona returned to Andy with full cups. George had only recently returned to a more natural coloring before blushing again when his hand made contact with Andy’s while returning her full cup.

Andy and Fiona shared a meaningful glance, and both smiled politely. George looked at his shoe and took a deep breath, realizing his suspicions were probably correct.

Fiona asked George about his D&D game, and George looked up in a mild panic. He had always been a little bashful about his favorite hobby. Growing up with the label ‘nerd’ left George sensitive to being targeted for teasing. While George appreciated the safe atmosphere of Center parties, he wasn’t just concerned about being judged but also scaring Andy away. 

When Andy volunteered that she played D&D, Fiona excitedly pulled her into their conversation. George absorbed that Andy was one of them, and the heat in his neck and chest cooled. They shared stories of favorite characters, exciting adventures, and ‘Total Party Kills.’ Fiona brought up their current campaign and segued wayed into the game George runs.

Sharing familiar things and mutual bonds made Andy more real to George. She wasn’t a theoretical mythical goddess; she was a beautiful, exciting person who also happened to be a goddess.

Andy added, “A’ve actually been a day em, but et’s been a bit.” [“I’ve actually been a D.M., but it’s been a bit.”]

As the trio chatted about D&D games they’ve played, Andy mentioned painting miniatures. George asked if he could see her work, so Andy pulled out her phone and brought up pictures for her portfolio. As George took the phone, their hands touched again. George’s eyes went from the phone to Andy’s eyes. George noted they were blue, but he could also see green. He wondered if they changed color in a particular light with colors so crisp. Again, George felt a warmth in his chest. 

Andy didn’t immediately release the phone as they continued to touch; her naturally pink cheeks took on a slightly deeper red. The corners of Andy’s lips curled up into a slight grin and her eyes seemed to sparkle a little. George was dying to read her mind.

George and Fiona gushed over Andy’s artwork. She explained how she had started with D&D by painting miniatures for her older brothers, Brandon and Charles, then creating stories for the figures before ever playing the game. Her enjoyment of creating led her to run games more than play. Her passion for painting inspired her to study art at UCLA and a career as an artist.

George asked, “So obviously you’re from Scotland?”

Andy replied, “Not originally. Actually, I was born in San Francisco in 1989.” George realized she was 30 and not as young as he had assumed.

Andy continued. “Meh family moved ta Scotland when I was a wee bairn when ma da got a job.” [“My family moved to Scotland when I was a little child when my dad got a job.”]

“What does your dad do?” Andy gave George a look like he’d said something wrong.

“He was in agriculture, but I’m not sure what exactly he did.” Andy spoke with a melancholy that told him it wasn’t a good topic. 

He was worried he’d soured the conversation when Fiona shifted subjects by asking, “So when did you come back to the States?”

Andy responded, “We returned ta San Francisco when I was thirteen when ma grandparents died. They left their house ta ma parents. It ’ad bin in ma family for generations. They felt obliged to keep it up. It was showing its age. Ma da spent most weekends fixin’’ er up.”

George asked, “Since you grew up in the U.K., did you know your grandparents well?”

Andy replied, “Oh, aye, I might ’a known ma grands better than most. They sent me and my brothers care packages all da time. Treats and comic books mostly. They always ’ad letters for each of us. We would always write back. Some long, some short, but always a letter. Mom saw to that. I think she was secretly working on our penmanship.” Andy snickered.

Continuing her story, Andy added, “I dinna mind it though, mind ya. All the other kids in school were part of these great clans wi’ lots o’ family aboot. I dinea have that, so the letters gave me connection to ma family.” [“I didn’t mind it though, mind you. All the other kids in school were part of these great clans with lots of family about. I didn’t have that, so the letters gave me a connection to my family.”]

Andy’s eyes lost focus as she remembered, but she said, “Oh, I loved the comics. Ma brothers and I would read them ov’r and ov’r. We ended up with quite the collection. Charles, me middle brother, still has them. He’s the businessman, so they’re all bagged, right and proper. I was always about the pictures.”

The room disappeared for George as he gained tunnel vision on Andy’s voice. Andy was talking to both of them but looking in George’s direction. As he hung on her every word, he wanted inside her head. He needed to learn more, “What titles were your favorites?”

Andy smiled and showed a hint of a dimple. George’s heart skipped a beat. He heard Fiona make a snicker, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Andy to see what they were laughing at. 

Andy didn’t seem to notice George’s intense stare or Fiona’s laugh as she was lost in her thoughts. Still, her eyes focused on George as she answered his question, “Ma grands were all about the Boy Scouts, so that might ’a colored ma choice. I’d ‘ave ta say Cap’in America was my favorite. He was ma Grandma’s too.” As Andy smiled more prominently, her dimples fully formed. George felt his face heat up. Fiona excused themselves to refill their cup, barely concealing their amusement.

Andy went on, again either oblivious to Fiona or too polite to acknowledge their reaction, “Grandda’ liked Superman. It was his childhood favorite. So those two were the titles we got the most. They didna care much fer da X-men, so we only got a few of those at ma brothers’ request. We got a smatterin’ a others, so I was an Avengers fan before they were cool. I fancied da West Coast crew tho’.”

Fiona had returned, but George had barely noticed. He was almost startled when they spoke, “So, did you get your start in art with comics?”

Andy seemed to snap out of a spell and focused on Fiona. “I wun’na say that. I traced and copied the comics, fer sure, but that was kid’s stuff. I wanea obsessed aboot it. That didn’t come until ma grands sent minis to the boys for their D&D games. They always treated me equally, so I got minis of ma own. I used ta love ta study da detail, but they just felt naked and lifeless. They seemed like they wanted paint.” Andy looked away to the corner of the room; she seemed embarrassed to George.

George tried to rescue her, “Well, you’re quite good.”

Andy returned her attention to him. She seemed to study his face a second before responding. “Thanks, my first attempts came out hideous. Globs of paint. I was self-taught. I learned how to clean paint off minis, too.” She said the last sentence lightly and gave a little self-deprecating chuckle.

Fiona asked, “Was returning to the States hard?”

Andy gave a weak smile. “It wanea too bad. We had made visits. But yes, full emersion had its shocks. As ye kin imagine, ma accent made meh stand out. I was more Scot then American. Most of the kids were OK, but it took meh a bit to make friends. Many kids wanted to be around meh fer da novelty o’ it. Say dis, say dat. I dinea wanna be a toy. Even in high school, most a meh friends were more like acquaintances. I actually worked to lose ma accent. I even tried drama, but that was a disaster.”

Fiona supportively put their hand on Andy’s arm. “Oh, hun, high school is the worst. But we’re here for you.”

Andy brightened a little. “Aye, you and the others at the Center have been great, being able to talk things out. It’s very therapeutic.”

Fiona chuckled and squeezed Andy’s arm. “That’s why they call it therapy.” Andy smiled when she realized what she’d said.

Andy went along with the good-natured jab, “Call me Cap’n Obvious.”

George gave Fiona a ‘be nice’ glare.

Fiona turned back to Andy. “George thinks I’m being rude. And has gallantly suggested I apologize with his impressive non-verbal communication skills. I am sorry if I have offended. I tease because I care. I’m a broken person.”

Andy put her fingertips of one hand on Fiona’s arm, “Balderdash, yer fin. George, I appreciate yer concern, ‘cept Fiona and I are friends. I understand ther ways.” [“Balderdash, you’re fine. George, I appreciate your concern, except Fiona and I are friends. I understand their ways.”]

George held up his hands in mock surrender and stammered, “I.. ah, you see….” Andy put her other hand around George’s wrist. Her hand was warm and soft. George felt faint. Andy reassured him, “Thar, thar, George, don’t fret. I do appreciate chivalry, but I do feel safe amongst friends.” Fiona picked up a napkin from the counter and held it to their mouth, pretending to wipe something up while laughing.

Fiona tried to put the conversation back on track, “Andy, do you want to tell George about the rest of your high school experience?”

Andy blushed slightly but agreed, “Yeah, sure, no secret.”

Fiona encouraged, “It’s a charming story. But I’m a sucker for young love.” Fiona snuck a wink a George. Andy was looking at him, so he dared not give Fiona a warning glare.

Andy began her story, “In ma junior year of high school, I met Jamie in P.E. We were on tha same team while playing volleyball. We were both tryin’ ta make a save when we collided and hit foreheads together. We sat on the gym bleachers nursing goose eggs tha rest of tha period.”

Fiona interjected, “I think George has a few P.E. injury stories, too, so you’re in good company.” George had a flash of insecurity about his lack of athletic aptitude.

He started to feel hurt and insulted that Fiona put him on the spot but was soothed when Andy gave George an empathic look, saying, “I feel yer pain.”

Andy continued the story, “So, I asked Jamie how bad my bruise was. She gently brushed meh hair aside and took a gander. Thar we were just staring into each other’s eyes, and it was like lightnin’ struck.” Andy took a breath from speaking and stared into George’s eyes for a beat. He stopped breathing. As George recaptured his breath, Andy picked up, “I’d always thought o’ me-self as straight. Girls are always talking aboot ‘oose pretty and are freer with physical affection amongst themselves. I just assumed it was normal to find women attractive.” 

George nodded his understanding since it wasn’t the first time he’d heard a woman make the statement.

Andy seemed relaxed discussing her first homosexual attraction, and George felt honored at the trust. He gave a warm smile. 

Andy’s expression brightened a little as she shared, “But we ‘er young, so we sat in awkward silence the rest of tha period sitting side by side on the bleachers. Finally, I put my ‘and down on the seat beside right next to ‘ers. Our little fingers touched. I dared not move, but later Jamie said she was watchin’ meh out the corner o’ ‘er eye. She told me she saw the me give a little grin and that was all the encouragement sheh needed. She draped her little finger over mine. It was such a little touch, but it set my world spinning. Ya know?” 

George nodded at the irony while Fiona was glowing with a knowing smile.

Andy kept making eye contact with George and only glancing at Fiona occasionally. He found him hoping it meant she was talking to him, and he found he was hanging on her every word, “After PE we went to lunch together and every day thar after. We became close friends, but it took some time to work up to acting on our feelings. We kept our relationship secret. Through this experience, Jamie was able to articulate her identity as a lesbian, while I was able to realize me bisexuality fully.” 

Andy drained her cup and looked over to Fiona. Fiona winked. Andy slowly turned from Fiona to him. She looked uncertain.

George smiled as big as he could, “Thank you for sharing your story. Fiona was right. It was adorable.” Andy’s expression immediately brightened, and she smiled just enough to hint at her dimples, causing George’s pulse to quicken yet again. “So, um, you were in the closet in high school, but you seem pretty confident now...?” George looked quizzically at Andy.

Andy nodded. “Aye, I’m publicly out now, but I understand where I live. So I’m not takin’ out billboards if you catch my meaning?”

George had similar concerns about the safety of non-cis in conservative Bakersfield. He nodded his comprehension, “Understood, always good to know your audience.” Fiona gave George a nod of approval.

Andy reached out for George’s mostly empty cup. “George, may I take a turn fillin’ yer glass?” George absently gave her his cup as he struggled with a response. He didn’t want to be separated from Andy. Still, he understood if she wanted a moment alone to recharge after sharing something so personal.

Typically, George had difficulty speaking to women he was attracted to, but Fiona’s presence gave him a modicum of calm. Andy’s common interests helped more. George was just as passionate about their shared hobbies, so focusing on the subject made talking easier.

George didn’t take his eyes off Andy as she walked across the room. Her skirt hid her legs but not her movement. Andy had a distinct wiggle to her walk that caused her skirt to bounce side to side and her bum to rock back and forth. 

Fiona squeezed George’s bicep. “Easy, tiger, remember to breath. I think she’s into you.” 

Could Andy really be interested in him? He wanted it to be true, but she was so far out of his league. George spiraled into a descent of self-doubt. He recounted the conversation and Andy’s expressions. Maybe?

George was still trying to absorb Fiona’s words when Andy came back with George’s glass. 

Fiona remarked, “They spiked the punch, but used too much ice. I’m thinking about fixing it.” Fiona was frowning at their glass with disapproval. 

George was not ready to talk to Andy alone. He panicked, exchanging a hard look with Fiona with the slightest shake of his head. Fiona moved their chin down in the smallest way and stayed put. George took a long breath to settle his nerves.

Andy also took a deep breath. “Jamie and I dated into ma senior year. When ma parents were killed in’a car accident she sort of faded from ma life.” 

George could tell this was an old wound that had scarred, but he could still see the pain on Andy’s face. Fiona put a hand on Andy’s shoulder and gave a tight-lipped smile.

George’s instinct was to comfort Andy with a hug, but he didn’t dare. He shook his head. “Damn.”

Andy nodded. “Pile up in the fog. It was the tail-end, a’ winter. The end of high school was a blur fer me. Jamie went off to college out of state. She didn’t know how to deal with death any better than I did. We still keep in touch, but she feels guilty fer not bein’ able to be thar fer me. I ’ad me brothers. We’d always been close, but we really leaned on each other that year.”

Andy seemed focused behind George but was still looking in his direction. “Brandon and Charles had to make the tough choice to sell the house. My parents and grands really loved that house, but it was just too much for us. My parents left us a decent life insurance, but the house would eventually eat it all. And the money from the house let my brothers get their farm. They bought a small citrus orchard in Goleta. We lived in the ranch house that came with it and Charles eventually built his own cottage on the other side of the property.”

George inquired gently, “No farming for you?”

Andy laughed, the sound renewing the warmth in his chest. “Nay, meh thumbs are not green. I struggle to keep house plants alive.”  

“And no plans to return to the family compound?”

Andy shook her head. “They offered, but it’s just too far away from civilization. I’ve built up clients in L.A. No, I’m settled where I’m at. Someday I might want a bigger place with more storage. Meh little two-bedroom is getting a little cramped.”

The trio continued to chat about real-estate options, the merits of different sides of towns, and the general unpleasantness of moving. Fiona committed George and themself to help when the time came. The conversation continued to meander between nerdom and mundane topics, but everyone stayed engaged and interested. Some of the discussion was a rehash for Fiona and Andy, but they didn’t seem to mind. Fortunately, all the topics seemed to steer into George’s lane, so he ended up picking up most of the banter with Andy.

As the party wound down, Andy went to summon an Uber. In a sudden act of brazenness that even caught George off guard, he volunteered to give her a ride home. Andy glanced at Fiona, and she gave a subtle nod. Andy accepted George’s offer. Behind Andy’s back, Fiona gave George a wink, and George gave a panicked look. Fiona hugged George and whispered, “Relax, you’ll be fine, but if she bites, enjoy it. You’re good to drive?”

George nodded as he whispered back, “I’ve been drinking water for the last few hours and never even got buzzed from the punch.”

Fiona frowned. “Yeah, that won’t happen again.” 

Fiona hugged Andy, too. “I am ecstatic that you came. You made this evening magical. We must hang out again soon.”

Andy smiled and replied, “Sure, I’d like that. Let me give you my number.” Andy opened the texting app on her phone, entered a brief message, and then handed the phone to Fiona.

Fiona took the phone and entered their number. Then they asked, “Do you mind if I put in George’s too, while I’m at it?”

Andy replied, “Aye, that’d be bonny.” Fiona unsubtly nodded to George.

As George and Andy turned to leave, Fiona gave George double-finger gunshots, blew out the pretend smoke, and holstered their finger pistols. They silently mouthed “Wingman” to George with the biggest smile, then turned and strutted away.