“Hmm?” Toni says.
“I love you,” I say again.
“Mmm-hmm.” Toni’s awake now.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
“Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that, right? It’s always been that way.” I pull at a corner of Toni’s bedspread and twist the fabric around my fingers. “Am I doing something wrong?”
“It’s nothing,” Toni says again.
We aren’t looking at each other. I’m lying on my back, studying the cracks in Toni’s ceiling. Toni’s head is still on my shoulder, facing away from me.
“I can help,” I say. “I want to help.”
I mean it. I will do anything in the world to make us go back to the way we used to be.
I don’t know what changed. All I know for sure is, there’s something Toni’s not telling me. Three months ago I wouldn’t have thought that was possible.
“I know you want to help,” Toni says and sighs.
“So tell me what you need. What you said to Audrey, I—I didn’t know it was like that, but, I mean, it’s great. Are you—did you change your mind about labels? You told her you were just trans. Did you decide not to use gender nonconforming anymore?”
Toni shrugs. “I’m mostly using genderqueer again. It’s simpler. Since it’s all under the trans umbrella, though, I figured that would be easier for Audrey to understand.”
“Oh.” I try to smile. “That makes sense. So, what you said, about maybe being a guy someday. Is that—like, do you really think that? Like, what do you think is the—I mean, if you had to put, say, a percentage on it. Do you think there’s a ninety percent chance you’ll be a guy? Or, you know, a fifty percent chance, or a thirty percent chance—”
Toni’s staring at me. “Why are you asking this?”
“Because I want to—I don’t know.” Crap. I’m doing what I swore I wouldn’t. I’m asking questions, and I’m saying the wrong thing because I don’t know what I’m talking about. “Never mind. Ignore me. Look, just tell me what I should do, and I’ll help however I can.”
“You can’t help,” Toni says.
“Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t—it isn’t—”
Toni jumps off the bed. The movement comes so fast, it scares me.
“It’s just better if—” Toni paces across the room. “It isn’t fair—”
“What isn’t fair? What are you talking about?”
“I was right, before. Chris didn’t understand—”
“What? What does this have to do with Chris?”
Toni flips on a light switch. I hold my hand in front of my eyes to block out the glare.
“We have to get out of here,” Toni says, not looking at me.
I’ve never seen Toni act like this. It’s scaring me.
“Okay.” I’m woozy from lying down for so long, but I hunt around for my car keys.
It turns out Toni doesn’t want to take the car, so we walk down the long driveway of the Fasseaus’ house. We follow the subdivision’s wide, curving road to the tiny fake park where no one ever goes. It has a bench, some brown shrubs and a fountain with a cement pool around it where little kids throw pennies in the summer. It’s November, though, so the fountain is drained and silent, the pool just a gray stone hole.
I have my big coat on but I’m cold anyway. Toni doesn’t even have a coat, but Toni isn’t shivering. Just pacing.
“You’re freaking me out, T.” I sit on the bench. I’d rather keep moving, but Toni’s pacing is making me anxious. “Is this about your mom? Do you want to tell her this weekend, too? Because I know it’ll be hard, but once it’s done it’ll be like ripping off a Band-Aid. You won’t even—”
“Stop,” Toni says. “You have no idea what it’ll be like. You can’t possibly imagine.”
I know Toni’s right, but still. That hurts. A lot.
“Okay,” I say, “but I can help. I can—”
“Wait.” Toni sits down next to me and takes both my hands. “Never mind. I’m sorry I said that. That’s not what—can we pretend I didn’t say that?”
“Okay.” This sudden calm is freaking me out even more.
We don’t talk for a long time. Toni keeps holding my hands, looking down at them as if they might break.
“You’re scaring me,” I say after it feels as though hours have passed.
“I’m sorry.” Toni looks up at me. “We have to stop.”
“We have to stop what?” I ask.
“This.” Toni swallows. “We have to break up.”
No.
What?
We have to break—
“No. No. No!”
I’m on my feet, but I don’t remember getting up. I blink down at Toni until Toni looks away. Then I run to the fountain. I step over the side and into the dry, empty basin. I need to move. To do something. Something that isn’t listening to this.
“Gretchen,” Toni says from behind me. “Look, don’t.”