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Troy spent the walk to the flagpole thinking about what Jeff had called him. Abed’s girlfriend. That was stupid.
“Jeff’s stupid,” he said once he found Abed, who waved from where he sat in the grass, then stood to meet Troy. He threw his messenger bag over his shoulder and they set off on the journey to Abed’s dorm.
“Why’s Jeff stupid?” Abed asked.
“He called me your girlfriend.”
Abed made a little hm noise. It was pretty adorable. “That is stupid.”
“Right? We’re not even dating or anything.”
“Right,” Abed agreed. “Plus if we were, you’d be my boyfriend, not my girlfriend.”
“Oh,” Troy said. “Yeah, that too.”
-
Troy took another bite of his delicious con-trans-ulations cookie, turning to Pierce.
“Am I black boobs?”
Pierce’s shrug held no answers.
-
“Her body is being vaporized as we speak,” Pierce said.
Whoa, Troy thought. “What does that feel like?”
“It’s the greatest feeling ever.” Pierce smiled. “Like the second when the fudge on your sundae is still hot, or when you’re the first one to break in a new boob job. You’re free from the burden of your earthly body.”
Troy sighed. “It is a burden.”
-
“It’s cool,” Abed was saying. “I’m one of the girls now.”
A sharp pang of something struck Troy’s chest. Before the trampoline, he might’ve spiraled trying to untie the jealous-confused-excited knot in there, but he’d evolved. He didn’t do that stuff anymore.
“Yeah, cool,” he said. “I gotta go. I think I need a bounce break.”
“Later, bitch.”
-
If anything, Mariah was the weird one. Who wouldn’t want to go on a date with Abed? She was crazy. And she kept acting weird about the way Troy wanted to dance, shifting his hand down to her hip from where he put it on her shoulder, and it was making his skin crawl.
His head on Abed’s chest and Abed’s arm around him — that felt good. That felt like home.
-
“Indecent Proposal.”
“Indecent Proposal.”
Without hesitation, Troy called, “Demi.”
“Woody,” Abed answered, smiling. “Nice.”
-
Delivering a baby with Abed did something to Troy’s brain.
Nothing can stop us, Chang said. Not the hurricanes, not the communists, not the feds, not the Girl Scouts.
-
“I’m sorry, Vice Dean Laybourne,” Troy said, “but I realized no one’s better than anyone else. I mean, some people are better at sports, and there are magicians, but I was put on this earth to do something else.”
“So you’re going to be what? A plumber?”
“No,” he said. “I’m not going to be a plumber either, because they have to deal with poop. My decision for now is to watch TV with my friend.”
“You’re making a huge mistake,” the Vice Dean said, but Troy felt closer and closer to right as he stepped away, toward Abed, down his own path.
-
“Abed, do you wanna replace me with Hilda?”
Abed shifted his gaze from the TV to Troy. “What?”
“Is it because I can’t give you babies? Because I want to, I promise. You know that, right?”
“Troy.” Abed turned fully, brows furrowed. “Your ability to give birth, or lack thereof, isn’t important to me. I don’t really see why it would be.”
“Oh.” For some reason, Troy felt like he’d been slapped in the face. “Okay.”
Abed took a bite of popcorn. “That’s why adoption exists.”
-
“Like during the bar mitzvah, I mean. How are you so comfortable just… wearing whatever?”
Abed shrugged. “I guess I just don’t think about it.”
“I envy you, man.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m sure you could pull off a dress,” he said. “I might incorporate that into a Happy Place end tag next season.”
“I don’t get it,” Troy said, but it was nice to hear anyway.
-
Britta didn’t care that Troy was weird about sex. She didn’t judge him for not wanting to do it like he should, with him on top and him doing stuff to her. They tried it like that once — only once — and he almost cried.
But she didn’t laugh or tell him to man up. She took his hand and explained that gender roles are bullshit, and that no one should feel ashamed of how they want to be touched or how they express themselves. Then she showed him what a strap-on was.
-
First Hilda, now Toby.
“You went all psycho girlfriend on Abed, didn’t you?” Britta asked.
Troy choked back tears. This was stupid, he was stupid. It made no sense to be so upset over some… some guy. Some guy who was rude and bald and was trying to take away the only thing in Troy’s life that didn’t feel fucked up and wrong.
In the end, Abed was still bonded with him for eternity in the gluon chamber, so everything was okay, or as okay as it could’ve been. When they got back, Pierce and Shirley made everyone watch the new Americanized Inspector Spacetime. The Constable was a woman now. That was pretty cool.
-
“They said Batman was gay,” Troy sobbed.
“What’s wrong with that?” Abed asked. “Batman can be gay.”
It wouldn’t make sense if he tried to explain that in his fantasies, as a kid, he was always Batman’s wife. It didn’t even make sense to him.
Instead, he just wiped his face and wrapped his arms around Abed. “Why is Thanksgiving so terrible?”
-
“Can you be me?” Troy asked.
Abed nodded and turned in his chair.
“If you think about it, a hot pocket is technically a sandwich.”
“Perfect.” Troy sighed. “Troy, we need to break up with Britta.”
“Yeeaahh,” Abed-as-Troy said. “We should probably do that, huh? But oh man, what if it ruins our friendship? Britta’s so awesome. I would hate that.”
“I know. Ugh,” Real Troy said. “Let’s ask Abed what to do.”
“Okay, you be me,” Abed-as-Abed said.
Troy blinked as his brain went into Abed Mode.
“You just need to tell her how you feel,” he said. “Although honestly, I don’t get why you’d want to be in a relationship in the first place when you have me. Or why you’d want a girlfriend when we both know you don’t even like girls.”
He paused and looked up at Abed, Real Abed, who was silent and wide-eyed. After a moment, he tilted his head and broke character as he spoke.
“Is that really how you think I feel about you?”
He sounded hurt. Troy shook his head, heart racing.
“No,” said Troy, Real Troy, or whoever inhabited this body that didn’t seem quite like his. “I think that’s how I feel.”
-
The summer after graduation, Abed kissed him.
“I’m not usually one to make the first move, but the unresolved tension was getting excessive,” he’d explained in Troy’s bed that night, breathless. “I feel better. What about you?”
What about Troy?
“Yeah,” he said, and it was almost true. Kissing Abed was awesome, the sex was awesome, and none of it made him want to die more than he already did. But that was the thing. Lying here naked, that feeling he got before the keg flip came back — maybe had been back for a while. Like something was off, a square trying to fit where a circle should go.
It happened a few more times, including once in Jeff’s shower.
You’re special, the mirror read.
After the polygraph tests, Abed didn’t touch him anymore.
-
“I don’t know what I did wrong,” Troy said.
“What?” Abed asked. He paused the TV with a blank face, but didn’t turn to Troy, didn’t look at him at all.
“You hate me now. Is it because I’m going on Pierce’s stupid trip?”
“No,” Abed said. “I don’t hate you.”
“You’re mad at me. Or — something. I have no idea, but I know it’s because I’m going on the trip. Or is it because of the handshake?”
Abed shook his head. “I’m not mad at you.” He paused. “Well, like I said, you broke my heart, but I’m not mad about it. Any of it. Mostly because I don’t know how to be. I think I actually do want to be mad at you, but I’m not.” He finally turned, locking eyes, exhaustion hanging dark under them. “I know you need to go on your journey, Troy. You need to figure out who you are — which is a callback to your repilot — and I don’t think you can do that here with me. Not like this. You’re going to have to rerepilot.”
-
The night before Troy left, they watched The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. Abed said it was the quintessential road trip movie to inspire Troy for his adventure. Troy didn’t get it until he was out on the open sea, humming to himself and dancing under the sun.
Maybe not every hero’s journey had to end the same. Maybe it was okay to stray from the narrative and write your own story.
It had to be.
-
“You knew?”
“Of course I knew,” Abed said.
“No way. How?”
She could practically hear his shrug through the phone. “I’m a student of human character.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked. “I could’ve had boobs by now.”
“You can still make that happen,” Abed said. He sounded interested. “I did what I could. But ultimately, the journey had to be your own. Too much of my interference would’ve cheapened it for the audience.”
She sighed. “Being a trans allegory is hard. Can you at least help me figure out a name?”
“You don’t want my help with names.”
“Whatever, fine,” she said. “Let’s figure out the boobs thing, then.”
-
Marrying Batman was even better in real life. It was awesome. Boobs were awesome.
“You’re awesome,” she said to Abed, who tilted his head, just like the first time he saw her and decided I’m going to change your life. Or whatever it was that went through his beautiful head. She smiled.
“You’re awesome,” he said. And yeah, she figured that was pretty much true.