“Trent,” I whispered, and automatically walked toward him. His short hair was disheveled as if he’d been pulling it, and the bags under his eyes aged him a year in the time since I’ve seen him last. “Can I sit?” I asked tentatively, fully prepared for a refusal.
His mouth full, Trent nodded, then scooted over.
This time I sat opposite him, far enough away not to beg for a hug I didn’t deserve.
“How have you been?” I didn’t ask if he was okay, because he clearly wasn’t and I had a sinking feeling it was my fault.
“I’ve been thinking.” He set the plate aside and downed half of his coffee in gulps. “Can I ask you insensitive questions?”
Oh shit. Here we go.Everyone asked those eventually. “Sure.”
“When did you know you were a man? A boy?” He took a napkin and another one, wringing them like hand-washed linen at a fountain in ancient Rome.
Okay, I admit I expected worse questions. “It was always at the back of my mind, as if I didn’t even fully grasp the idea of what being a girl entails. My family and other adults around me called me a tomboy, so I assumed it was some type of a boy and I was fine with that.” I sighed, recalling the time it really hit me. “Remember the dreadful sex ed lesson at school?”
Charlie nodded. “That was informative but uncomfortable to experience with the class.”
“Right. When they split us into boys and girls, I had to listen to the teacher tell us about the things coming my way that I did not want to happen to my body. I knew it was not me. I got upset that day and my parents picked me up. Everyone assumed it was triggered by the period talk as some girls freaked out. But for me, it was so much more. I pretended to be sick for the week after, but really I just didn’t feel like leaving the bed.”
Trent took my hand over the table and squeezed. “I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.”
I ran my thumb over his knuckles. “I couldn’t tell anyone at school. My parents took me to a therapist, and she said I had gender dysphoria. I still looked like a child, but something was off. So throughout that year before we moved out, I knew I couldn’t go on living in the body that would soon develop if I didn’t do anything about it. After we settled in Boston, puberty hit, and my body started changing.” I cupped my nonexistent boobs, then crossed my arms over them. “It was hell on wheels.”
Trent nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek. I motioned for him to continue asking questions. I’d answered the most intrusive question so many times, and all my friends heard my story. Trent deserved to know, too.
“But your parents helped you?”
“Yes.”
He sagged in his seat. “That’s good.”
“They moved mountains, taking me to appointments in different states, but I hit puberty before I got the medical care necessary. Now, I’m happy in my body.” His hand trembled in mine and I stroked it with my thumb. “Is that all you want to know?” I braced myself for a bottom surgery question.
Trent nodded and took his time to look up from the table to meet my gaze.
“You’re the first man I kissed.” His voice came out choked. “And I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.”
Whoa.“In what way?”
“I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so much. And it felt so natural. I began questioning if that feeling was new or if I’ve always been attracted to men. Maybe—” He buried his face in his hands and I could see his ears go pink as he blushed.
“That’s okay, Cupcake, you can tell me.”
“I haven’t heard that name in a long time. I love hearing you say it again.” He repositioned in his seat. “So I’ve been doing some research online.” He swallowed. “And I’m a bit confused.”
A bit? I’d say.
“To me, people can be so hot, not only women. But I’ve never…” He sighed. “That kiss made me think. Sometimes I’d get a boner at the gym, but it might be because of a woman with a bouncy ass or a dude flexing his biceps. It was just me admiring someone in good shape. Everyone does that, right? All bodies are attractive, gender has nothing to do with that. And neither does sexual orientation. Or so I always thought.”
“Mm-hmm.” I tried not to grin. My sweet summer child, my Trent, was going through a major awakening.
“Right now, I’m not set on a label but pansexual feels right. I’m definitely not straight.” He released a nervous chuckle. “I’ve considered myself an ally, and that’s why the homophobic gym culture rubbed me the wrong way. Then I came here to work construction, and it was even worse. I had sex with beautiful women and I loved it every time, so I never questioned being anything else but straight. But after that kiss, my mind reeled and my imagination went far beyond what I’ve done with those girls. The trip through the internet helped me work out some things. And now I think I’ve always been…” He shrugged, then looked down. “Curious.”
I wanted to hug him, but giving him space to figure out how he chose to proceed was the smart thing to do.
With a finger under his chin, I lifted his head up. “About?”
He looked at my lips, met my gaze, and swallowed hard. Then he shook his head. “I need to go back to work.” He stood up, rattling the table, sending the utensils clattering against the plate.
