112.)

"How'd it go?" Blossom asked as Amy climbed back in her car. She had a coffee in the cup holder that wasn't there when she dropped Amy off.

"I'm not sure... she's kind of weird. She wasn't what I expected."

"How so?"

"It feels like... she's willing to be wrong. Or maybe it's more like... she's willing to sacrifice a pawn to save her king." It was the first time someone challenged my binary conceptualization of mental health. To Stephanie, there was a lot more gray space between the right thing to do and the wrong thing.

"And how do you feel about that?" Blossom asked, and then laughed a little bit, shaking her hand in front of her. "I bet you've heard that question a dozen times this last hour, huh? Okay, different question: how did this compare to your last therapist"

"Different," I said honestly, buckling my seatbelt. "I dunno... I think I like her? It's weird..."

"What did you talk about?" Blossom asked, pulling out of the parking lot.

"Mostly the baking thing? She says I should just have a panic attack instead of distracting myself. Which sounds insane. But it's not like I have any better ideas."

"Huh. That's definitely not what I would have suggested, but then again I'm an engineer and not a therapist. But I'm super proud of you, cupcake. It sounds like you really opened up."

"I don't know about that..." I didn't really tell her anything. I didn't tell her about baby stuff, or really much about Blossom. I didn't tell her I wrote stories. I didn't tell her about my discomfort with intimacy. We really only talked about ways to assuage Blossom's worries. In a way, I kind of felt like I was in therapy for her rather than for me.

Stephanie's office was only a half an hour away from the beach house, but day turned to night during therapy. The headlights illuminated the snow on the sides of the road. It was quiet and calm, until Blossom startled me.

"Oh!" Blossom said very suddenly. "I read your comment on DailyDiapers! You said you have trouble coming up with character names for Academy Works, so you use the names of people online. But you haven't used Blossom yet!"

"It's not the most normal name," I argued.

"It's a Powerpuff Girl! No one is going to think you're talking about me."

"Fine," I sighed. She had a point. "If I need another random baby name, I'll use yours. But I'm pretty sure this is bullying." But when I saw Blossom's expression, I took it back. "It was just a joke."

"I know," Blossom laughed. "I just don't want to pressure you into anything."

"You aren't."

"Also," Blossom continued, "while you were in therapy, I looked up all the protagonists' names. Because you said on DD that they meant something."

"Mmhmm. And?"

"Ai means love," Blossom said, rattling them off from memory. "I don't get that one yet, but you mentioned in your comment that it has a purpose."

"I think that one will become more clear as time goes on."

"So Ai is coming back? I knew it!" Blossom and Amy had a similar conversation on the train, on that first day.

"What else did you learn?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Bala means young, or youthful. That one seems self-explanatory. Talita literally means little girl. Kione means someone who comes from nowhere, which is so interesting!"

"It is, isn't it?" I teased.

"Aya's name is Ayoka, and that means joy bringer or something."

"That's apt, but I actually named Ayoka after the daughter of Sequoyah, the guy who created the Cherokee syllabary."

"Uh… what."

"So the Cherokee language didn't have a written form for a long time, because oral storytelling is a big cultural tradition. But spoken language also changes a lot over the years, and there was a lot of English colonialism around that time. So Sequoyah created a one-to-one like… sound-to-symbol alphabet. Kind of like hiragana and katakana? That way they could write down their stories in Cherokee and pass them down between generations. He did this by practicing with his daughter, Ayoka."

"So Aya is named after the first kid to learn the Cherokee writing system? Well fuck, what is that supposed to mean?"

"Symbolism," I said, waving my hands like a magic spell. "Also, you forgot about Wendy."

"Wendy just means friend," Blossom said, still mulling over Aya's origin story. "It was basically made up for Peter Pan."

I smiled. It sure was.

We pulled up to the beach house before too long. The grass was weighed down by a few inches of snow and I had to kick my shoes on the side of the house so as not to track it inside. Blossom turned on the heat as always and I pulled the blanket from the downstairs bedroom. It was becoming habitual.

"You get to pick dinner, because you were such a good girl and went to therapy. The sky's the limit, as long as it's on GrubHub or DoorDash."

Blossom was setting her bag down on the counter and unpacking a few things; she'd found a couple more coloring books for the Beach House Collection™️ and had ordered some fancier colored pencils. They'd all arrived in the past week.

"As long as it was on GrubHub or DoorDash" had a limit of about four places. I picked pizza. Blossom ordered it and the house started to warm up a little. I was holding my backpack in my lap, waiting for the right moment. But there probably wasn't a right moment. Eventually, when I could feel my fingers, I pulled out a small box, wrapped in paper with a bow on the top, and held it out for Blossom.

"Merry Christmas," I said belatedly.

Blossom's eyes went wide and she broke out in an even wider smile. She took the gift in both of her hands and gingerly set it down on the table. Then Blossom wrapped her arms around Amy in a big, warm, and grateful cuddle.

"Oh my gosh, thank you so much, so so so much, I can't wait to open it! I got you something too, but before I give it to you, I need you to remember that we have own our love languages. Okay? And that sharing my privileges in life," a term which here meant money, "is one of mine."

Blossom was, all in all, not a good gift-giver. She wasn't like Becky, who paid attention and planned. She wasn't like Amy, who could make things from her heart. Blossom had more money than most, but she seldom was able to translate it into gestures and actions with emotional meaning in any effective way.

"Uh... okay?" I didn't really care what she got me. It didn't matter. I think it was because of the way I grew up with my mom, but I really liked giving gifts a lot more than giving them. Actually, it was sometimes kind of awkward to be given something. It felt like a lot of pressure.

Blossom hopped back up to her feet and went to her bag on the kitchen counter. The package she had for Amy was a box about the size of a ream of paper, wrapped in pink wrapping paper with a bow precisely placed on the upper corner. She held it nervously in her lap as she sat back down, and then bit her lip.

"Merry Christmas, Amy."

She handed over the wrapped gift to the girl on the sofa and then retrieved the one she'd been given from the coffee table, running her fingers over it eagerly.

"Do you want me to open first? You were the first to give, so it's only fair, right?"

"Uh... yes..." I'd rather not open up the keys to a brand new car or something before she opened up a box with some shitty hand-made string bracelets. No, it was better to get my thing out of the way first.

Blossom took the bow off the top of the package and stuck it to her shirt, like a little badge, and then tore through the paper like an actual child. The box was a small jewelry one my mom gave me. Blossom took off the lid and found two things in similar design. Blossom held up the smaller one first.

"It's a bracelet," I said nervously, like that wasn't obvious or something. It had a little clasp and everything. "I used to make them a lot in middle school, and I thought... if we met then, maybe we would have been friends? Instead of... I guess, whatever we were." Enemies was too strong a word. She was my bully, and I was insignificant.

Blossom was quiet for a moment as she analyzed the bracelet like a jeweler analyzing a diamond. She smiled and her eyes teared up. Then she dived on top of Amy, cuddling her as tight as the awkward position would allow.

"I love it, I love it, I love it, thank you thank you thank you!"

"I wasn't sure what color to make it," I said shyly, still in Blossom's embrace. "I went with black and pink, because I thought that would match the most stuff..." Though, admittedly, I was thinking almost exclusively about her lingerie sets.

"You're so clever, cupcake! Here here here." She held out her wrist. "Can you put it on me? Oh, and umm..."

Blossom looked down at the box and noted the other piece of craftsmanship, picking it up with a cock of her head to the side because she wasn't quite sure what this one was for.

The confusion on Blossom's face wasn't that surprising. The second of the two gifts was a lot like the first - same pattern, same colors - but maybe twice as long. It had a plastic clip on one end and a loop on the other.

"So, that one is kind of tertiary," I told her. "It was really easy to make these things at work, so I had a lot of extra time and extra string. So I tried making one of those... pacifier... things. The cords, that you clip to your collar? But uh, I didn't have a pacifier for it, so... it's not really useful for anything right now."

Now my cheeks were red. The idea of not only giving someone an ageplay-themed gift, but having made one myself? It was a surreal experience.

"This is incredible!"

To be fair, Blossom's appreciation for baby things was mostly rooted in stories she had read from authors like Mia Moore. She had never ever stopped to think about getting one in person.

"Gosh, mine isn't going to compare this at all and I'm so sorry in advance and… oh, right, yeah! Can you put my bracelet on for me?"

Blossom could do it herself, but she kind of liked the intimacy of it all.

"Right, sure." At first I thought the bracelet might be too small. I might have died on the spot; I spent hours thinking about it! The clasp was a little annoying, because there wasn't much slack, but when all was said and done it wasn't tight on her skin. She would have a hell of a time getting it on and off on her own, but at least it fit. I let out a sigh of relief.

Amy didn't have the benefit of Blossom's measurements the way that Becky did, but the bracelet fit all the same. Speaking of, Blossom reminded herself, she had to show Amy her new dress that Becky had gotten her! Blossom held her wrist up to look at the colors of the string and beamed happily before remembering that she still had a gift to give.

Sheepishly, she motioned to her box that she'd handed Amy.

"Okay, you can open yours now."

Blossom, in her indecision, had bought a couple of things. None of the gifts were particularly exceptional, but using school resources – which in this case meant a guy friend she had who had access to the manufacturing lab – she had a block of baby blue soft foam laser cut to the exact shape and size of the box, with perfect cutouts for all three gifts. She'd been happy with the effect when she'd wrapped it; like opening something fancy in a movie or something.

She hoped Amy would like, if not the gifts, at least the effort she put into the presentation.

The wrapping paper was gorgeous, but I wasn't a meticulous enough person to pick it apart by the folds. I tore it slowly and deliberately.

The box underneath was gorgeous, without any logo or clear indication of what was inside. It had that Apple brand shiny cardboard aesthetic, and opening it felt like counting down the launch of a rocket.

The packaging inside was gorgeous, with little foam cut-outs and three gifts inside. It looked like one of those fancy bath sets, but none of the items inside were lotions or soaps.

The first thing, and the most eye-catching - a large baby bottle - was gorgeous. It had cupcakes decorating the outside and I felt a blush fill my cheeks. I hadn't seen the design before, and I wondered if she found a place to have it printed.

The second thing, and the least impressive - a small envelope that looked hand-made - was gorgeous. I picked it up in my hands and opened the fold, pulling out a printed cardboard card. It had a code on it and an ABUniverse logo. A diaper company.

The third and final gift - a dark box with a company name I hadn't heard of before - was gorgeous. Inside, there was a necklace with a little crystal pendant shaped like a pacifier, and it was also gorgeous. I had no idea when I would wear something like that - and I'd probably break it, knowing me - but no one had bought me jewelry before.

"It's like... like a Christmas gift box or something. Like those subscription boxes, but for baby stuff." Fancy baby stuff, I amended internally. But when I saw Blossom's face, I realized I hadn't said anything nice at all. So I smiled brightly and felt water in my eyes.

"I love it. Thank you so much!"

Blossom who, until this point, had been holding her breath, finally exhaled.

"I know it's not as amazing as something handmade with love and affection, but I hope you like at least one of the things! My best friend Becky will tell you that I'm an awful gift giver. I'm just so bad at it, like that part of my brain didn't ever develop or something and–" Blossom, at this point, realized she was rambling. "I hope you like it, Amy. Merry Christmas, baby girl."

I didn't like how much money Blossom spent on me. The necklace looked like a big deal, and the gift card didn't even have an amount written on it. To be honest, the baby bottle was my favorite part; it didn't have a lot of associated guilt, and I was actually really excited to try it out. But for Blossom's sake, I didn't run through my evaluations out loud.