What We Left Behind

Where the hell is he?

I force down two Advil, find my room key in the trash can next to the condom wrapper and walk down the hall in my ratty sweats. I bang on his door for three minutes. Juan finally swings it open and blinks at me. “You know what time it is?”

“Sorry,” I say. “Is he here?”

Juan trudges back to his bed, lies down and throws his arm over his face.

I look to the other side of the room. Carroll is sitting at his desk with his laptop open. I can’t see what’s on the screen.

“Hey,” I say. “Can we talk?”

“About what?” He doesn’t look up.

“I don’t care what you talk about,” Juan mumbles. “Just don’t do it in here.”

Carroll rolls his eyes and comes to stand in the doorway. He leaves the door open. “I’m kind of in the middle of something. What do you want?”

I don’t know what I want. I didn’t come here with an agenda. I just wanted to see my friend. To make sure everything’s all right.

Because I have this feeling. Even before I got here, even before I saw the way he’s looking at me, I had this feeling.

“Can we go somewhere and talk?” I ask.

“What for?”

“What do you mean, what for?”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” he says.

“I know last night was weird, but you don’t have to—”

“We’re not friends anymore,” he says.

Why do other people get to make these unilateral decisions about my life?

“Why?” I ask, because I need to hear it.

“I don’t like being used,” he says.

“Used?”

“Please shut up, both of you,” Juan groans. Carroll ignores him.

“I know you have issues, but that doesn’t mean you get to do whatever the hell you want all the time,” Carroll says. “Get a damn therapist.”

“What? I can’t believe this. You’re one to talk!” Then I lower my voice. “I know you’re upset about what happened with your dad, but—”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with this. Yeah, I have issues, but my issues are normal. You and your screwed-up shemale ex are in a league all your own.”

Okay. Wow. I take a step back.

“Look,” I say. “Let’s just pretend last night never happened. It was just some random thing anyway.”

“Yeah, right. Like I could. From now on every time I see you, it’s going to be all I think about.” He shudders. I want to die, just a little bit. “I never would’ve done anything like that if you hadn’t started it.”

“What?” I sputter. “We both started it. At the same time. Remember?”

“What I remember is you dancing like a maniac in that club, hitting on everything that moved, like some bi nympho or something.”

“Well, I remember it wasn’t me who pulled a damn condom out of my pocket. I don’t even have condoms in my pocket.”

For a second we just stare at each other. My heart is pounding so hard. This feels so much like that night by the fountain.

“I’ve been trying so hard to do everything right here,” Carroll says, quieter than before. “I was going to leave all the crap back at home. I’m supposed to finally be away from all that. This is supposed to be my chance to do what I always wanted. Then you butt in and mess it up. You’re acting all psychotic just because some loser dumped you. What, you figured she’s growing a dick so you might as well try one out for yourself? Well, do what you’ve gotta do, but leave me out of it.”

I close my eyes.

I deserve this. I deserve to be completely and utterly alone.

“Hey, Carroll. Hey, Gretchen.” A girl’s voice. I open my eyes. It’s Tracy, Carroll’s friend from Tisch. “Why are you guys standing here with the door open? Gretchen, are you coming to breakfast with us?”

“No,” Carroll says. “Gretchen’s got someplace else to be.”

I leave without speaking. I find my way back to my room, crawl into bed and pull the blankets over my head.

I never want to come back out.





15

DECEMBER

FRESHMAN YEAR OF COLLEGE

2 WEEKS APART





TONY


“I’ve decided I like the term gender variant,” I say.

“Any particular reason?” Nance asks. “Or is this just your new flavor of the week?”

Nance and I have never talked about what she said to me on the library steps that day, but we have a cautious truce of sorts going on, so I’m pretty sure she’s just teasing me now.

“It’s more all-encompassing,” I explain. “It’s broad enough to get around those tiny boxes that labels put you in.”

“Okay, sure,” Nance says. “Except gender variant is a label, too.”

I sigh. “It’s an alternative label. It’s flexible. It allows space to define yourself within it without being constricted by the limits of the terminology itself.”

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