"Still pretty shitty," Jules says with a rueful little smile, "but yeah, less so." It's a relief, and she can't pretend otherwise, that he doesn't seem to be shitty about stuff like that. She hasn't gotten that impression, or she wouldn't be going out with him at all, but she's still aware that he's from a small town in the midwest in the '80s, which is kind of the perfect breeding ground for prejudice that could be dangerous for her. Even coming from a liberal, coastal town nearly forty years later, that's at least part of the reason why the vast majority of her hookups have been arranged on queer dating apps.

She's fortunate, she knows, to pass; she also knows that any kind of passing privilege is a double-edged sword, and that there's a long history of men getting angry, getting violent, when they think they've been tricked or misled by someone who doesn't fit the narrow confines of what they allow themselves to consider a woman.

At least, whatever happens next, it seems like she can trust Eddie to be cool about it, which is all that really matters. "If you're not, you know, into that, it's totally fine. We can still have a good time tonight."