740. Chapter 740

She meets the girl on the job, through one of her routine stops swinging through the local LGBTQ+ youth center she’d helped get on its feet when she first got to National City.

The girl looks uncertain. Like she’s not sure if she belongs. She looks like Maggie imagines she used to look herself.

“Hey there,” Maggie drops to one knee next to the girl, keeping her distance in case the NCPD logo on her windbreaker understandably scares the girl off.

There’s a beat of silence – she is deliberately not looking at the girl, fixing her gaze instead on the group of teens playing Apples to Apples across the lounge, but she knows the girl is studying her – before she answers.

“Hi,” she offers, and her voice is small, but maybe a bit hopeful, too.

“I’m Maggie,” she tilts her head toward the girl, glancing at her so as not to intimidate her with too much eye contact, with too many demands for socialization.

“I’m Naya,” the girl responds, faster this time, and Maggie grins softly.

“Naya,” she repeats. “It’s a beautiful name.”

“I chose it myself,” the girl answers, and Maggie nods knowingly.

“First time here, Naya?”

Naya nods without answering.

“It’s a great place for a girl to make some solid friends.”

At being called a girl so seamlessly, Naya sits up straighter, unable to hide the smile that now carries over her entire being.

“I’m worried about talking to them. I don’t really know how to interact with people.”

Maggie nods again, this time turning to look into Naya’s eyes. “You’re doing a great job right now.”

The girl grins again, and Maggie smiles back.

“You know, my wife was really nervous the first time she came in here, too. She thought she was too old to be coming out, you know, and that she wouldn’t really fit it.”

Naya looks like she’s fighting between shouting relief to the rooftops that this random cop, too, is in the community, and between asking more about Alex. Her face does the first; her voice does the second.

“And did she? Fit in?”

“We’re taking most of these kids to Pride next weekend, lemme put it to you that way. Alex’s idea.” Maggie smiles and shakes her head affectionately, and the little gesture makes Naya’s heart soar.

“Um… never mind.”

“No, hey, it’s alright. What’s up?”

“Are all these kids… are all these kids out? To their parents? Like, are we allowed to go if we’re not… would we even be welcome if we can’t…”

“We’re all meeting there,” Maggie explains softly, gently, her eyes showing Naya that she’s been in a similar place to where she’s been. That she understands. That she’s not alone. “And it’s a public space, so if you’re allowed to be out of the house, you know, you’re good. And we have a strict policy against taking, posting and tagging each other in photos without consent. Can’t guarantee you won’t be on any random person’s camera, but – “

“But I won’t get tagged by anyone here.”

“No ma’am.”

Naya beams again at the form of address. “And… you wouldn’t mind? And your wife? And the other kids? They wouldn’t mind? I… I don’t really know all the lingo, yet, or… Hell – heck – sorry, is cursing okay? – hell, I don’t even feel comfortable enough playing a damn board game with the others. And I like boy things, not just girl things, and I’m not sure if I’m bi or pan or a lesbian or if being a lesbian makes me straight to people I’m not out to or – “

“Hey, hey, Naya. All that is okay. You can cry, it’s alright. You can always cry. But you don’t have to if you’re crying because you think you’ve got it all messed up. You don’t. You’re good. I promise. It’s okay to not know everything. It’s okay if you know something now and it changes later. That doesn’t make it a phase and it doesn’t make it less real. Okay? And you’ll be more than welcome. And if anyone proves me wrong about that, I’ll kick their butt. And my wife can kick their butt even harder than I can, which is saying something.”

Naya laughs hesitantly, and then she’s crying on Maggie’s shoulder, an outpouring of relief and shame and pain and home. Coming home.

And the next weekend, sure enough, Naya shows up at the corner by the march that Maggie had told her about. Her dress hugs the curves of her full stomach, and Maggie grins from ear to ear.

“I was really hoping you’d turn up! I’m so glad you did!” she offers a hug, and Naya accepts gratefully. “I’m proud of you,” Maggie tells her before they let go with another squeeze.

“And this is Alex. Alex, this beautiful young lady is Naya.”

“I’m jealous of your dress,” Alex grins as they shake hands, and Naya gulps.

“Yeah? It doesn’t look stupid on me?”

“Not even a little bit,” both Alex and Maggie assure her, as other kids from the Center, two of whom are wrapped in an ace flag, sidle over to introduce themselves and welcome Naya into the space.

“How are you holding up?” Alex asks a few minutes later, as she and Maggie stroll amongst the kids distributing water bottles and sunscreen from their backpacks.

“Okay,” Naya nods, her eyes wide, taking in all the rainbows and noise with tears glistening along with the glitter someone had offered for her cheek bones. “It’s… I wish the whole world could be like this. That it could be like this when I get back home. Or that… that we didn’t need this. Or,” she chuckles ruefully as a person walks by distributing bags marked with a rainbow and a bank logo, “that corporate America didn’t define this month.”

Alex grins with an arched eyebrow. “You remind me of Adrian,” she chuckles before sobering. “But seriously, I know what you mean. I do. And you’re right. You are. But hopefully, this is a feeling you can take with you. The good out of the horrible. And you’re not gonna be alone, after. Even if it feels like that.”

“Promise?” Naya asks, eyes suddenly focused intently on Alex’s face.

Alex reaches for Maggie’s hand, and, without having to be caught up on the conversation, Maggie nods in affirmation.

“Promise,” they both grin, and it’s more than a little infectious.