The Outsiders - Chapter 3

Should I tell Jonas I’m a devotee? And how will he react if I tell him? Those two questions keep coming up in my mind whenever I think of him. I’ve been dreaming about dating someone like him for years, but I’ve never really thought about what to tell the guy. Part of me thinks being honest and telling him right away is the best policy, but I’m afraid it will freak him out. I’m hesitant to make any decisions.

I’ve only seen Jonas briefly a couple of times over the six days since our date; we’re both busy with lectures and assignments and our schedules don’t match. Today is Thursday and we’re meeting for lunch. I can’t wait to spend some time with him again.

I’m already sitting at a table in the cafeteria when Jonas arrives. I admire him as he approaches; he’s on his crutches and he’s dressed in a pair of dark jeans and light grey jumper. I love how most of his tops show off his toned upper body.

He smiles as he sees me and I impulsively stand up and greet him with a kiss. He stiffens a bit, and I wonder if it’s too much, too soon. After all; we’ve only been on one date. When I feel the corners of his mouth lifting as I press my lips to his I relax.

“Hey there,” he says as we pull apart, a teasing glint is evident in his deep brown eyes. “Seems like you’re happy to see me,” he says teasingly.

“Yeah, very,” I reply as I sit back down. 

“I’m happy to see you too,” Jonas says as he lowers himself to a chair. I watch as he unlocks his braces and positions his legs. When he’s all settled, he digs a bottle of water and a sandwich out of his backpack. 

“Do you have any plans this weekend?” he asks me after he has eaten a few bites of his sandwich.

I shake my head, I’ve just taken a big bite of my chicken wrap, and I don’t want to speak with my mouth full of food. That’s just disgusting. 

“Wanna come over to my place Saturday? I’ll make lunch and we can get to know each other better. And if we’re not sick of each other’s company by dinner time we can go out for dinner.”

“Sounds great,” I reply happily. We didn’t really talk that much on our first date and most of our conversation was superficial. I think we were both nervous and afraid of prying too much, I know I was.  Still am. I’ve got a lot of questions I’d like to ask him about his disability, but from the way he talked about it the first time we had lunch together I got a feeling that he’s not too keen on talking about it.  Although Jonas appears to be confident there’s insecurity and vulnerability there as well.

…

Friday evening, I send my best friend Natalie a WhatsApp message and ask if she has time to talk – I need some advice from her. Five minutes later we’re on a FaceTime call.

“How did your big “I-hope-it’s-date” thing last Friday go?” she asks me eagerly. I might have mentioned it to her a time or three… 

“It was great. Jonas is a great guy, but he’s a bit withdrawn. He seems kind of unsure of himself, I can’t really explain it. I have a feeling he hasn’t really dated since before he was injured.”

“So, what did you do? You went to the concert, right? Did you eat before?”

I gave her a quick run-down of our evening; the food hall, our dinner at Døgnvill, the concert and finally the conversation in the car outside my apartment.

“So, anyway… Just before I got out of his car I offered to pay for my part of the evening, and he said that since he’d asked me on a date he was paying. Back at the restaurant he just said that he’d asked me out, didn’t mention date. I think I must’ve looked kind of stunned; he told me it could just be a friend’s night out if that what I wanted.”

“So, what did you say?”

“I told him I wanted it to be a date and then we kissed. He’s a great kisser.”

“So, you’re dating now?”

“I guess so. We had lunch together yesterday and he invited me over to his place tomorrow. I’m so happy, Natalie! I mean, he’s my dream guy! Tall, dark, handsome…”

“And paralyzed,” Natalie interjects matter of factly. She’s one of the few people that knows about me being a devotee. It’s not something I’ve told a lot of people. “Have you told him about your ‘thing’ for disabled guys?”

“No, I haven’t. Sheesh, we’re just getting to know each other. We’ve been on one date and had lunch together at school a couple of times… I’m not sure when I should tell him – and if I should tell him. What if he thinks I’m a total freak?”

“What if he thinks is cool? I really think you should tell him and sooner rather than later. Let me ask you something; would you be attracted to him if he wasn’t disabled?”

“Yeah, we really clicked. His disability is just a bonus.”

“There you go. Make sure to get that point across and I bet you’ll be fine.”

I sigh. Natalie keeps insisting I should tell Jonas about being a devotee as soon as possible. After I say I’ll think about it, we move on to chatting about other things; mainly school and she catches me up on what’s going on with some of my other friends in South Africa. We chat for almost an hour before we finally bid each other goodbye.

....

Not long after I end my conversation with Natalie my cellphone rings; it’s Jonas. I take a deep cleansing breath before I answer the phone, hoping I don’t sound as giddy as I feel about him calling.

“Hello.” Eloquent Sigrid, I berate myself. 

“Hey. Hope I didn’t interrupt anything; you sound kind of distracted.”

“No, not at all. I just got off a FaceTime call with a friend of mine in SA.”

“Ah, cool. Gotta love technology,” he says with a chuckle.

“Yeah, definitely. Glad we have FaceTime, since phone calls to South Africa are expensive.”

“I bet. I just realized I forgot to give you my address yesterday. Figured it would be good for you to know where I live since you’re coming over tomorrow.”

“I didn’t think about it either,” I say with a chuckle. “It’ll be helpful to have an address to put into Google Maps, so I can find my way there.”

“I can pick you up,” he offers.

“No. Thanks for offering, but I really need to familiarize myself with the city. I’m sure I can catch a bus or a tram to where you live.”

“Yeah, you can just jump on bus route 21 to Tjuvholmen. My place is just a 5-minute walk from the bus stop,” he says. “I’ll text you the exact address if you want to put it into Google maps.”

“Oh, awesome! I can figure that out,” I say. The 21 bus stops at the bus stop down the street from my apartment. We chat a little longer before we say good night. 

I’m surprised that he lives at Tjuvholmen; it’s right at the waterfront. From what I know it’s not suitable for a student’s budget, but neither is his Audi. 

…

A few minutes after noon on Saturday Jonas buzzes me into his building and I take the elevator up the fifth floor. His front door is just across the hall from the elevator. I quickly straighten out my clothes before I push the doorbell. 

Jonas opens the door almost immediately; he’s in his wheelchair and looks a little insecure. I’ve only seen him in his chair a few times. From what he told me when he switched from crutches to his chair Friday night, I assume he prefers to be tall when he’s out and about, like at school. 

The wheelchair is a compact manual model; rigid frame painted in a dark grey metallic with low backrest and no armrests or push handles. His sneaker clad feet rest on a single footrest. 

“Hi,” I say with a bright smile.

“You made it,” he says in a way of a greeting, also smiling.  I bend down and kiss him hello and when I stand back up, he rolls back a little and gestures for me to come in. I step into his apartment and watch as he closes and locks the door. He’s dressed a pair of jeans that have been through the wash a few times and a blue t-shirt that hugs him in all the right places. Damn, he’s hot! 

I follow him into what turns out to be a spacious open-planned kitchen and living room. I notice that the kitchen is wheelchair-accessible; lowered counters and no upper cabinets.  Which indicates he usually is in his chair at home.

The room is separated into three areas; the kitchen, a dining area furnished with a round dining room table with eight upholstered chairs around it and a living area a large grey couch with a chaise lounge on one end with a round coffee table with a solid base in front of it. Opposite of the couch a huge flat screen TV hangs on the wall. 

The décor is masculine, but warm tones in accent items such as the throw pillows and blanket on the couch and rugs under the dining set and couch area softens it. It also appears Jonas has a bit of a green thumb, as several large green plants are scattered around the space. 

It’s a gray and cloudy day, but a combination of warm lighting and several lit votive candles around the room makes it warm and inviting.

My eyes drift to the one wall is basically floor to ceiling windows with a sliding door that opens out to a large balcony. He has a sea view and straight across the bay is the Akershus fortress.

“Amazing apartment,” I say. “And what a view.”

“It’s not too shabby,” he replies, a smile tugging at his lips. “Take a seat,” he says, gesturing to the dining table. “Food’s almost ready. I hope you like it a bit spicy.”

“I love spicy! Anything I can do to help?”

He hesitates for a second, then he puts me to work on setting the table.  He has already set out plates, cutlery and glasses on the kitchen island, as well as two placemats, napkins and a basket with various condiments and spices.

…

“This apartment is a notch or three above the typical student accommodation,” I say with a smile. We’ve finished eating lunch. A delicious home made meal of pasta arrabiata with garlic bread and a salad on the side. After we cleared the table and put the leftover food away, we’ve both settled in on the couch. 

Jonas chuckles. “Yeah, I know. I bought the place long before construction started, at a great price. I bought it as an investment; I planned on selling it with a profit once construction was finished.”

“How long have you lived here?”

“Little over two years. Still miss my old place sometimes; it was in an old building up at Majorstua. It was a total mess when I bought it, and I did most of the work myself. It had lots of original features; high ceilings, crown moldings, some exposed brick… Unfortunately, there’s no elevator in the building. Couldn’t move back there after my accident, so I had some work done in this place while I was in rehab and moved in here when I was discharged.”

“Ah, I see. This seems very accessible,” I say.

“Yeah. The basics were already in place, it’s the law for new construction in Norway, so I didn’t need to do much. I replaced the kitchen and made some adjustments in the master bathroom and that was it really. It’s great, but still I miss the character my old place had,” he says with a wistful smile.

“Yeah, I get that. I wish my place had more character; it’s kind of non-descript. All white walls and IKEA furniture.”

“Are you allowed to paint? Adding some color can make a big difference,” Jonas says. The walls in his living room are painted in a warm dark grey tone.

“I’d have to check with my parents, but I don’t think they’d mind. If I don’t paint in some insane color that is,” I chuckle

“You live in your parents’ apartment?” Jonas asks.

“Yeah, they bought it when they were newlyweds and when we moved to London, they decided to let it. The last tenant’s lease expired this summer, and they didn’t renew it since I was moving here. I’m glad I haven’t had to negotiate the crazy real estate market. My parents paid it off, so I just pay for the utilities, so I know I’m lucky.”

“That’s definitely a good thing,” Jonas says. “I know many students struggle to find somewhere to live. And the prices are insane.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard some horror stories from people in my class. I really shouldn’t be whining about white walls.”

Jonas chuckles. “No, you shouldn’t,” he says. Then he changes the subject. “Do you come from a big family?”

“No, I’m an only child. How about you?”

“I’ve got two brothers, I’m the oldest,” he says. Something tells me his family isn’t a topic he’s interested in discussing, so the conversation changes to other topics. 

…

“Are you familiar with the term ‘devotee’?” I ask tentatively a little later in the afternoon. Jonas and I are sitting on his couch, and a couple of glasses of wine have given me the courage to broach the subject. I’m still not sure it’s a good idea, but I figure honesty is the best policy.

“A little. While I was in rehab, I did some online research about spinal cord injuries, and I came across a couple of devotee websites. From what I understood it’s basically a person that’s attracted to people because of their disabilities. Initially I thought it seemed weird, creepy…” he pauses briefly, seems like he needs to gather his thoughts. Then he turns and looks at me, it looks like he’s realizing why I’m asking. “Why do you ask? Are you trying to tell me something?” he asks, his voice is flat and he doesn’t reveal any emotion.

Jonas

Sigrid nods.  “Yeah. I am. And you think I’m creepy.”  I’m lost for words, in a good way, but my failure to reply immediately leaves room for her insecurity to kick in and I can see her cheeks reddening. She’s obviously mortified.

“I’m sorry, this was a mistake,” she says while she stuffs her cardigan into her tote bag and gets to her feet. She hurries toward the front door and adds, pleadingly; “Can we please keep this between us?”

I transfer to my wheelchair as fast as I can and follow her. I reach her as she’s about to unlock my front door.

“Sigrid! Wait! Don’t leave! Can we please talk about this?”

“What’s the point? You think I’m a creep,” she replies, her voice filled with tears, as she reaches for the door handle again. It’s clear she just wants to get out of here; I can see tears rolling down her red cheeks. I’m desperate to stop her, because she’s got it so, so wrong and I’m scared of losing what might be the best thing that’s happened to me in years.

Sigrid

“I never said that. You made that conclusion in your mind,” Jonas says gently, calmly.

“You said you think devotees are creepy.”

“I said that initially I thought it seemed creepy,” he replies, making sure to emphasize initially and seemed.

“Right…” I shuffle my feet, not sure what to say or do. This conversation is taking an unexpected turn.

“Hear me out, please?” he pleads. I nod and tentatively follow Jonas back to the living room. I sit down on the edge of the couch. He remains in his wheelchair and parks across from me so we’re facing each other. This is weird twist. He’s begging me to stay, despite that he thinks I’m a creep.

“So, you’re attracted me because I’m paralyzed?” he asks. He doesn’t show much emotion; maybe he seems a little curious. Or hurt. It’s hard to tell.

“No! It’s not like that at all. Yes, your disability was the first thing I noticed, and then I noticed your good looks. I like tall, dark men with a bit of a rugged look. And as we’ve gotten to know each other, I’ve become more attracted to you because of the person you are. I’m attracted to the person first, then your looks and the disability thing is more of bonus, if that makes sense. I know it’s weird, but from I was a young child I’ve been fascinated by people using crutches, wheelchairs…my Barbie dolls had plenty of accidents that required toilet paper casts…” I realize I’m rambling and clamp my mouth shut. 

There’s an awkward silence before Jonas speaks. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly; he seems to be thinking.

“When I learned about devotees, I was early days in rehab, I wasn’t adjusted to my disability at all. I was struggling to accept everything that comes with a spinal cord injury and that someone could find it attractive was totally mind boggling to me. I thought that devotees had to be creeps. Freaks,” he sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. 

He leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “Anyway, I didn’t go back to those websites at the time. I focused on rehab and trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. After a couple of failed attempts at dating the first year after my accident I started to wonder if I’d ever find a woman that’s cool with every aspect of my disability.”

“What happened?” I ask when he doesn’t carry on. Hopefully I’m not pushing him too far.

 “They freaked out when I told them a bit about crip mechanics… They were okay with the mobility issues, at least I thought they were, but when they learned about the rest of the package they couldn’t get out of here soon enough,” he says with a wry look on his face. “At that point I was depressed and basically decided I was done with dating. I tried to convince myself I was fine with being single, but truth is I’m not. Never was. One evening I was browsing the internet, and I somehow ended up back on some of the devotee sites. I read some stories and message boards and started to think that maybe it’s not a bad thing.”

Jonas

“Really?” she asks, disbelief lacing her voice while grasping both of my hands with hers.

“Yeah. You’re familiar with crip mechanics, right? You know there’s more to my disability than the mobility issues? You’re aware my wheelchair and crutches is only part of the package, right?”

Sigrid nods, still a little tentative, but she seems to be warming up. “Bowel and bladder routine, skin checks, range of motion exercises… And you’re cool with that?”

“I am,” she says, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I mean, I’ve got a lot to learn. I’ve only read about these things, so real life will probably different. I’m sure there’s stuff I’m not aware of, but I hope we can learn together. Seems like this is a first for you too.”

I smile warmly at her. 

“I knew you were something special from the moment I sat down next to you at the enrollment ceremony. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something told me that I should get to know you. Even though we didn’t talk that day I was drawn to you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, just took me a while to work up the courage to approach you.”

“I was still working up the courage to approach you when you asked if you could join me for lunch,” she replies. “I’d seen you around but didn’t really have a reason to go up to you, so I didn’t.”

“Well, here we are. I like you a lot, Sigrid. And I’m really attracted to you. I’m pretty sure you feel the same way about me. Am I right?”

“Yeah, definitely,” she says, beaming with happiness.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” I say as I pull her inn for a kiss.

Sigrid

 I watch as Jonas lines his wheelchair up next to the couch and transfer to it so he’s sitting next to me. 

“Does this mean you’re staying?” he asks me, reaching for my hand.

I’m still in shock from what have happened over the last few minutes; that Jonas is okay with me being a devotee. More than okay, it seems. I struggle to find my voice, so I just nod and grasp his hand. After I take a deep breath, I finally manage to say something.

“I definitely didn’t expect this conversation to take this direction,” I confess. “I was very nervous about bringing it up and I’ve been very unsure about whether I should tell you. But a conversation with my best friend back home yesterday made up my mind.”

“You dropped a bit of a bombshell with your confession, but I’m glad you told me,” Jonas says. “What did your friend say?”

“Natalie is very direct and honest, and her opinion was that I would better off telling you early on, rather than confessing a few months down the road. She said you’d probably be more upset if you found out later.”

“I’m glad you listened to her, because I think she’s right. And knowing you’re okay with my disability makes me relax. I can let my guard down; I don’t have to downplay things and try to be normal for you. That’s a huge relief.”

“Normalcy is overrated anyways,” I say with a smile. “Honestly, I don’t feel very ‘normal’ myself. I don’t really fit in at school.”

“I know that feeling,” Jonas sighs. “Anyway, you’re still up for dinner tonight I hope?”

“I definitely am. Do you have anywhere specific in mind?”

“Nah, I figured we could just stroll around the area and see where we end up. There are several restaurants here at Tjuvholmen and just across the bridge we have Aker Brygge. There are plenty of choices.”

“Sounds great. You probably have some favorite places?”

“Yeah, definitely. Um…is it okay for you if I use my chair tonight?” Suddenly he appears a little tense and insecure again.

Jonas

“Why do you even ask? Do whatever works for you. I’ve noticed that you rarely use your wheelchair at school. Is that because you’re trying to blend in?” she asks gently.

“Yeah, I suppose it is, but I’ve realized that I stand out no matter what. I mean, I can’t hide that I’m disabled and I’m about a decade older than the rest of the first-year students, so…” I say with a shrug. Then I carry on; “I saw my doctor the other day and he wasn’t happy with me for being tall so much lately, it’s hard on my arms and shoulders. Crutches and braces were never meant as my everyday mode of getting around, it’s more a therapy thing, like my standing frame.”

I can’t believe I told her all that, but her confession has helped me let my guard down. I hope it’s not too much too soon, but as she said; honesty is the best policy. 

“Then listen to your doctor! I do think leg braces are hot, and I hope I get to see yours one day, but honestly; I prefer you in your wheelchair.” She leans over and kisses my cheek. “I love how your chair is like a part of you.”

“Really?” I ask. “You like it better when I’m in my chair? On the devotee pages it seemed like many had fetishes for braces, but you’re not one of them?”

“I can’t really explain it. Guys in wheelchairs have always been my thing. Preferably hot paraplegic guys like yourself,” she adds while giving my upper arm a squeeze. There’s a teasing glint in her green eyes.

I’m lost for words and pull her in for a kiss. 

Sigrid

“By the way; why do you feel like you don’t fit in at school?” Jonas asks me after a few beats of comfortable silence.

“I’m a year older than most of them, I’m not a party animal, I’m more serious about my studies than most people in my class. Add a weird accent and un-fashionable style and…well… I just feel like I’m an outsider.”

“I like how you dress,” Jonas says. “You have your own style, it’s nice.”

I chuckle. “Thanks.”

He smiles and kisses me again. I can’t get enough of kissing him and I almost whimper when we pull apart. Jonas checks his watch.

“I just need to use the bathroom and put on a pair of shoes and then we can head out. Okay?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” I say. I still feel a bit like a tourist in Oslo, so I’m looking forward to exploring Jonas’ neighborhood with him.

I watch as he transfers back to his wheelchair, places his feet on the footplate and adjusts his legs. He looks a little shy but smiles at me as he shifts his weight before he unlocks the brakes on his chair.

Jonas shows me the guest bathroom and then he wheels off into his bedroom and close the door behind him. I can see the muscles in his shoulders and back ripple under his tight t-shirt as he pushes the rims of his chair with practiced ease.

Fifteen minutes later he wheels back into the living area; he still hasn’t shaved, but his hair appears to be tamer, and he has changed from the plain blue t-shirt to a fitted light blue oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It’s not tucked into his jeans, and the top two buttons are undone.  His feet are clad in a pair of black Converse shoes.

“Hey there handsome,” I say as he wheels up to me. “Ready to roll?”

“Always,” he grins. He grabs his card holder and keys off a small table by the front door and after holding the door open for me he follows me into the hallway. When he has locked the door, he tucks his things into a pouch that’s hanging behind his legs.

“That looks pretty pick-pocket safe,” I say as he zips the pouch closed and adjusts his legs. He looks at me with a crooked grin as he grabs the push rims of his chair and suspends himself in the air for a few seconds. Damn, weight shifts are hot!

“Yep,” he replies as he starts wheeling toward the elevator.

Image credits: ChatGPT

To be continued...