The Motivated Employee Pt. 03

The city dissolved away outside the train window, giving way to the suburbs Dani knew by heart, the route back to her townhouse feeling somehow longer tonight. It was as if she was returning from somewhere much farther away.

She hoped, as always, that her roommate Kayla would be up for talking. This weight, this confusion--it was starting to feel like it was too much without Kayla's support. Maybe it already was.

Dani leaned her forehead against the cool window glass, and her thoughts looped back to Celina. It had been a risk telling her. She'd hoped it might clear the air, ease the tightness that had coiled in her chest for months. Dani had known for a while now that her work performance was starting to slip. The moment she realized she was attracted to women--and had always been--the ground shifted beneath her, tilting her world in ways she wasn't prepared for.

The person who had brought this out in her was Celina.

A crush was supposed to be a source of joy, but this one had brought grief. And the grief had been slow at first--a dull ache. But over time, it had grown into something more consuming: a vacuum that sucked at her focus, her energy, her sense of self. She'd felt it in her work--in the little things: missed deadlines, lackluster presentations, her attention splintering. She'd noticed Kayla fussing over her in ways that hadn't been there before, too.

When the psychologist's office had told her it would be 6-9 months before she could get an appointment, Dani had spent the day in bed, overwhelmed. She had no idea how to carry the weight alone. The thought of waiting so long to talk to someone--anyone--had felt impossible. She'd thought about telling Kayla, but given her beliefs, the ones they used to share, Dani wasn't sure how she'd react. She couldn't risk losing her friendship and potentially her home right now.

So, out of desperation, she'd told Celina.

"I have a crush on you," she'd said, before she could talk herself out of it. It had come out in a rush, a confession she hadn't planned to make. Maybe, she thought, it would release some of the pressure building inside of her. Maybe Celina would brush it off, uncomfortably laugh, maybe offer some empathy or advice, and they could move on. And at first, it appeared that Celina had done just that--brushed it off.

But then today, she returned to it. Her hand had come down, firmly, on Dani's body. Her voice, low and controlled, had told Dani to count.

It had been Dani's first sexual encounter with a woman. She'd always imagined it would be soft, careful, maybe a little awkward. But Celina hadn't been any of those things. And Dani? She had felt more alive in that moment than she had in months. Every nerve snapped into place as she focused solely on Celina's voice and touch. It wasn't just the pressure releasing; it was discovering something she didn't realize she craved.

And after that "meeting" today, Dani worked harder, pushed through her tasks with an intensity she hadn't felt in months. She couldn't explain why, but she had a theory. Maybe it was because, for the first time in ages, she didn't feel invisible anymore. Celina had heard her confession and responded. Maybe that's all Dani needed--to be seen.

She exhaled slowly, pressing her forehead against the cool window. Buildings blurred by, their rooftops sloping downwards, becoming shorter in front of her. It could be too early to tell, but maybe she'd solved the problem of her work performance. Kayla would be stoked to hear that part, if disappointed by the rest.

The phone buzzed in her hand. A message from Kayla: "Home. Leftover curry in the fridge if you're hungry." That made Dani smile. Kayla was thoughtful in the simplest, most practical ways. She lifted her head up, imagining Kayla mentioning how much bacteria was probably on the window, and watched the patchwork of houses unfold below until it gave way to Fyldon, the suburb she and her best friend called home.

The train rumbled to a stop at the station. Dani stood up with the others, stepping out onto the platform, the crisp evening air biting against her pale skin. She pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders and quickly made her way through the dimly lit underpass. As she emerged on the other side, the streetlights flickered overhead, casting pools of yellow light on the cracked pavement as she walked. The uneven lines stretched across the sidewalk like old scars. They reminded her of ninth grade, the day when Clem had dropped her lunch money down the crack of a drain. She had sworn, half-laughing and half-frustrated as she peered through the narrow slit where her crumpled bills had vanished. Kayla, Dani, and Noah had laughed at her before Kayla unzipped her bag and pulled out a pair of pliers. "Don't stress yet, Clem," she'd said, and crouched down beside Clem. Noah stood by, offering useless advice. "Maybe shake the drain like a vending machine." Clem had shot him an exasperated look. Dani didn't know Kayla had brought pliers to school, but she was sure glad she had. Kayla positioned the pliers on the bolts holding the grate in place and began to undo them, her movements precise, like she'd done it before. After a few moments of work, the grate was loose, and Kayla lifted it carefully, revealing the lunch money resting beneath the drain. Clem's face lit up with relief, and she laughed as she scooped the bills up and hugged them to her chest.

Dani turned down her street, a cement sidewalk guiding her past the other condominiums. At the end of the block, a narrow driveway ran alongside the townhouse she and Kayla had been renting for the last three years. Dani's eyes landed on Kayla's old red Kia with roof racks parked in its usual spot. The small porch light was on.

The front door stuck like it usually did, swollen slightly in the frame from lazy, quick property developers. Dani nudged it and it gave way with a soft creak that should not have been heard in a house so new.

Inside, the faint smell of leftover curry filled the air. Dani let the door shut behind her with a soft click and stood for a moment in the entryway. The walls were eggshell white, still smooth but scuffed in places from grocery bags and winter boots. From down the hallway, she heard the muffled sound of a sitcom--Kayla's evening routine, same as always.

"Hey," Dani called out, not too loud. The TV volume dropped. A pause. "Hey," Kayla answered. Dani bent to unlace her shoes, tugging them off one at a time. She lined them up by the door--half out of habit, half out of respect for Kayla's no-shoes-inside rule. She put her bag down and slung her jacket over a hook. She headed into the kitchen, flicking on the light as she passed. It was clean and compact, with countertops that looked like marble if you didn't look too closely.

The stainless steel fridge gave a soft click as Dani opened it. A container sat on the middle shelf, labelled "Have a great day, Dani!" in Kayla's unmistakable cursive handwriting. Dani smiled to herself--Kayla was gifting this food to her for lunch if she didn't eat it tonight. Dani pulled it out, setting it on the counter and peeling back the lid.

As she punched in the microwave time, Dani heard the soft shuffle of footsteps, and then Kayla appeared in the doorway. Tall and barefoot, her hands in the pockets of her grey trackpants, she had an easy, unbothered presence. On her top half, she wore an old, retired hiking shirt that looked like it had snagged on more than a few twigs. Her mousy brown hair, loosely braided, draped over her left shoulder. Dani often thought Kayla looked like she belonged in a cabin off the grid--not in the kind of thriller film where bad things happen, but in a peaceful retreat, living simply off the land, surrounded by nature, far from the noise of the world.

"You made it," Kayla said with a warmth that immediately eased the tension in Dani's shoulders.

"Barely," Dani replied with a tired grin. Kayla's smile softened, but she didn't push. Instead, she just stepped in and grabbed a cloth, wiping down a countertop that didn't really need it. She always needed something to keep her hands busy.

"How was work today?" she asked, her eyes remaining on the counter.

Dani hesitated, the words swirling in her head. She knew the concept of what she wanted to say but didn't know how to say it. "Weird," she finally answered.

"Uh-oh. That doesn't sound good." Kayla gave her a sidelong-glance but still didn't press. "Want rice with that?"

Dani softly laughed. "Yeah. Please."

Kayla opened the fridge, pulling out the rice that had been sitting behind the curry. Dani leaned against the counter, willing her body to relax. Her shoes were off. Her jacket was was gone. And her guard was loosening.

They made their way to the next room, and Dani settled onto the couch with her plate, tucking on leg beneath her for comfort. Kayla sat next to her with her drink bottle and turned the volume down of the TV down. The curry was still warm, the rice perfectly fluffy of course.

"You can eat with your hands if you want," Kayla said, smiling as she sat back into the couch. She reached over and handed Dani a fork, her fingers brushing Dani's briefly. "When we lived in Bangladesh, we ate with our hands most of time."

Dani took the fork. She was familiar with anecdotes from Kayla's childhood, raised by missionaries. Dani raised an eyebrow and teased, "But never with your left hand."

Kayla smiled and nodded. "No, that would be rude."

Dani poked at the rice with her fork. "I don't think I have the attention span not to be rude. I would accidentally start eating with my left hand within a 10 seconds."

Kayla's arms were crossed loosely. "It takes practise. You'd be surprised at what you can become accustomed to."

Dani thought about Celina and how she would become accustomed to feel her hands on her body. She shook the thought away quickly, and changed the subject to Kayla.

"So, how was the day at camp? Any kids trying to outdo each other in who can clog the toilet first again?"

Kayla sighed and shook her head. "No, but one kid threw another kid's shoe on the roof. Then that kid climbed up there to get the shoe."

Dani glanced at her while chewing. "It's good practise for the actual rock climbing walls, right?"

Kayla's lips curled into an amused smirk. "He couldn't get down. I spent 10 minutes trying to talk him through it. But he was scared shitless."

"How old were these kids?"

"About 10, I think. However old fourth-graders are."

"How did he get down?"

"We got out a ladder. And then when he wouldn't climb down, I got up there on the roof, and held it at the top while he climbed down, and Jed waited at the bottom."

"Not all heroes wear capes, right?"

Kayla shrugged. "I suppose so. Some hold ladders."

Dani smiled while she picked up another spoonful of curry. "Add "no rooftop adventures" to the brochure for next year."

Kayla snorted. "That'll show them. How was your day anyway?"

Dani swallowed her mouthful of spicy food. "It was... weird." Her voice trailed off.

Kayla punched her on the arm playfully. "You already said that. What's really up?"

Dani took a deep breath. She had known this moment would have to come. She put down her plate on the coffee table, the movement feeling too deliberate for her liking, and turned to face her friend. "Kayla, I have to tell you something."

Kayla's sat up straighter on the couch, putting her drink bottle on the coffee table and turning her body to face Dani. "What's up, Dan-Dan?" She crossed her legs, leaned in slightly, and grabbed Dani's hand.

Dani didn't speak right away. She stared at the empty plate on the coffee table. With her other hand, she tugged at the frayed edges of the cushion next to her. "I don't know how to say this without it being... awkward." She inhaled and exhaled deeply. "I'm gay."

Those two words made her feel heavy and light all at once. She glanced at Kayla after what felt like an eternity of silence, although she knew it was probably only a few seconds, bracing for judgement.

Kayla stared at her. Still holding her hand. She didn't move or blink. "Hi, Gay. My name is Kayla."

Dani snorted with laughter and covered her mouth with one hand. "You're the worst!" she squealed. Kayla laughed too. "I know, I know. I've always wanted to say that if someone came out to me. It was too perfect!"

Dani let her hand drop, feeling warmth rise in her cheeks - like she had earlier in the day with Celina. "Seriously, though. I didn't know how you would take that."

Kayla tilted her head. "Why wouldn't I take it well?"

Dani shrugged and picked at the loose thread on the cushion. "Because you still go to church. Because you're my best friend. Because I don't want anything to change." She hesitated for a moment, then added more softly, "I haven't told anyone else."

Kayla let go of Dani's hand. She picked up her drink bottle from the coffee table and took a sip, and looked like she was thinking. After a moment she said, "Dani, are you for real? That doesn't mess anything up. I'm not that kind of person. You know that!"

Dani gave a small nod, her gaze dropping again. She felt the weight of Kayla's concern lately --how she'd mentioned multipletimes that Dani had been coming home later and later, how she'd texted from downstairs the day Dani didn't get out of bed. Dani had claimed she'd caught the flu and just needed to rest. But she'd listed the wrong symptoms--said she'd had stomach pains and a sore throat. Kayla's reply had been short. Too short. Dani knew she hadn't bought it.

Kayla waited for her to speak again, her brow furrowing, but when Dani didn't, she added gently, "I figured you stopped going to church for a reason. I just didn't know what it was. I always hoped you'd tell me why."

Dani looked up, meeting her eyes. "It wasn't just this. It was lots of things. I just don't believe that anymore."

Kayla gave a small, knowing smile. "Yeah, and you're surprised I still go because of how much I love science."

Dani smiled. "You're too smart for church, Kayla."

"Thanks... I think? But being gay, that would have been the primary reason, right?"

"Yeah." Dani murmured. "I didn't feel safe. And I didn't feel seen. They kept talking to men about not lusting after women. I don't know if that's a blessing or a curse, that they ignore that women can feel that way too. About other women."

Kayla's brow crinkled and her lips pressed together like she was holding something back. Regret? Anger? Her hand might've been gripping her drink bottle tightly but that's the way she normally held things. "God, Dani. I'm so sorry."

Dani shrugged. "It just made me feel invisible. Or like... if they ever did notice, it'd be worse. Especially if my parents noticed." She hesitated, picking at the hem of her sleeve. "Trent was kind of the final straw, honestly," Dani mused, thinking about the ex she had dated for just over a year. "I kept trying to make it work, to feel something. But I didn't. Not really. And pretending just made it worse."

Kayla snorted. "Trent? Come on. That guy had the emotional depth of a puddle and thought texting back counted as effort. You were basically dating a human beige flag."

"Please slap me if I ever date anyone that bland ever again."

"Deal." Kayla stared down at the drink bottle in her hands, like it held years of things she wished she'd noticed sooner. Then, without saying anything, she set it aside, leaned in, and pulled Dani into a hug, hands firm on her shoulders.

It wasn't quick or awkward, like the kind given to distant relatives at Christmas. It was solid. Full-bodied. Intentional. Dani's body tilted and fell into Kayla's. She wrapped her arms around her waist, like she had done many times before.

Kayla's voice came low and soft, her lips brushing Dani's hair, "I'm so sorry if I ever said or did anything to make you feel like you had to hide. Like, if I said anything homophobic or gross."

Dani's breath hitched somewhere between a sob and laugh to stifle the sob. "You're gonna make me cry, Kay." A tear slid down her cheek and landed on Kayla's arm, snug around her shoulders. Kayla held her just a little tighter. "Cry as much as you need. You've been holding onto this for too long." Those words made Dani cry more.

When Kayla finally let go, Dani blinked rapidly, fending off the tears still clouding her vision. Kayla rested her hands on her shoulders as Dani sat back up, as if to give her space to pull herself back together without feeling rushed. "Sorry I fell apart like that." she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"Why do you always have to apologise for crying?" Kayla gently teased, and then paused. "Look, we need to chat about this more. But I don't think you've got the mental energy for them tonight." Dani gave a small, grateful smile, wiping the last of her tears away. "Yeah, probably not. That was hard enough."

"Let's just watch TV for a bit. No heavy conversations. What Gilmore Girls episode are we up to again?"

Dani's eyes lit up at the suggestion, and grabbed the blanket off the chair next to them. Kayla settled in right next to her and Dani tossed the blanket over the both of them.

Dani rested her head on Kayla's shoulder as the Gilmore Girls theme song played, both of them singing along. Kayla shifted slightly, pulling Dani closer, her chin gently resting on top of her head. It was peaceful, simple--just how the best friends always watched TV together. Though she wasn't completely out of the woods, and still needed to confide in Kayla about what happened with her boss, Dani didn't feel so lost, for the first time in a while.