I kick him under the table, but I’m starting to laugh. He winks at me.
“Yeah, so,” he says into the phone, “she needs cheering up. Just had a megadramatic weekend with the long-distance honey. Tears, laughter, epic reunion sex, you know how it goes. I was hoping we could hang out with you and your crew tonight. There’s got to be some chic girl bar around here that we’d have to dress up and pay a twenty-dollar cover for, right? Okay, sounds fabuloso. Meet in the lobby at nine? Lovely. Ciao, bella.”
He hangs up. I should be annoyed, but I’m still laughing.
He picks the yogurt up from where I left it on the table and chucks it into the nearest trash can, spoon and all.
“You were grossing me out with that,” he says. “Are you ready to be normal Gretchen now? The one we know and love?”
I was being normal Gretchen before, too, I want to say.
“Depends,” I say. “What will you make me wear?”
“We’ll borrow an outfit from Tracy,” he decides. “She’s your size, and unlike you, she knows what the inside of a Banana Republic looks like. Hey, Sam, this is your last chance to get in on this action tonight. You never know. Maybe you’ll decide muff-diving’s for you.”
“I’ll pass,” Samantha says.
“Be a loser, then.” Carroll stands up and turns back to me. “No more pouting today, Gretch. I’ll be at your room at seven sharp for beverages and wardrobe consultation.”
Then he’s off, snatching a cookie from the dessert stand and slipping it into his pocket on his way out of the hall.
“So how was your weekend, really?” Samantha asks when he’s gone.
“Nothing.” I shrug. “It was fun. Harvard people aren’t as uptight as you’d think. Except they have no idea how awesome their dorm rooms are. These guys Toni’s friends with have a bar, two couches and a big-screen TV. They download all the new movies because they say they’re too busy studying to go out like normal people, but I didn’t see anyone studying all weekend. I did see a bunch of drunk girls in cocktail dresses and pearls trying to get into the library at three in the morning because they wanted scones from the café, though. We’re really lucky we have all-night delis.”
“Pearls?” Sam said. “For real? Girls there wear pearls to parties on campus?”
“Parties there are like clubs here,” I say. “For the good ones, your name has to be on a list or you won’t get in.”
“Dang.” Sam shook her head. “Remind me never to transfer to Harvard. Anyway, what really happened? Something’s wrong, I can tell. This morning was the first time since we’ve been here that you didn’t go to the gym as soon as your alarm went off. I was afraid I was going to have to throw something on you to get you out of bed.”
“I was just tired.”
“Look, for real, it’s okay. You can talk to me.”
She’s kind of right. You wouldn’t know it to look at her, what with the rope-thick mascara and the black lace gloves and the fake spiderweb tattoo, but Sam’s a good listener.
I could tell her the whole thing. It would be so amazing to be able to actually talk about this with someone.
I could tell her what Nance said. About how there’s this whole subculture I’m supposed to join called SOFFAs. It stands for Significant Others of...something? I can’t remember. It’s for people whose girlfriends or boyfriends or whatever are trans.
I could tell Sam about how Nance said it’s really complicated, trying to be supportive of your girlfriend and remember to take care of yourself, too. How she kept giving me these really skeptical looks like she thought I wasn’t up to the challenge.
When I looked up SOFFAs, I found a page about how partners of transgender people are often victims of hate crimes. That was information I could’ve done without. I felt bad for even thinking about it, though, because I know trans people get attacked way more often.
Then I felt even worse because, God, how awful to think about Toni getting hurt. Then I wondered if maybe Toni shouldn’t be talking quite so openly about all this trans stuff, because what if it makes someone more likely to commit some awful hate crime?
Then I felt bad again, because I know it’s important to be open, and being open is the only way things will get better for trans people. We learned about that in the GSA last year. It was the same with gay people. The reason more people support us getting married now is because more and more gay people came out over the past couple of decades.
The problem is, I don’t care about things getting better for all those other trans people nearly as much as I care about Toni being safe.
I could tell Sam about how when Toni and I talk now, Toni never tells me anything important. I guess there’s no need anymore, with all those awesome people up at Harvard to talk to.