“Neither did you,” Grant said softly before giving me a rueful smile.
“I guess not,” I said, running my fingers through my hair. “I assumed you were done with me.” I looked up, taking in his long-lashed dark eyes and boyish, open face. I thought about the first time we kissed, the feeling of weightlessness at the lake, driving in his truck, all the moments we had shared, and the memories he had given me. They were the realest, truest moments of my life, and yet to him, they now probably felt like lies. “Honestly, I would have understood if you were done with me.”
“Yeah?”
“I never wanted you to find out that way,” I told him. “I’m sorry if I … embarrassed you.” For a second I found the old shame creeping up, threatening to pull me back under.
“More embarrassing for you,” he said. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
“I told you I loved you at the dance,” I said. “I didn’t know if you heard me.”
He shook his head. My heart throbbed.
“I didn’t abandon Tommy,” he said, his expression serious, “and I won’t abandon you.”
I exhaled a breath. “That’s sweet, but what does that mean?” I shook my head. “Do you love me?”
“Yes.”
“You do?” I said, taken aback.
“I’ve shared more of myself with you than anybody else,” he said. “And, even if I burned the note, you shared everything with me. Whatever we are…”
“‘Whatever we are’?” I said, my throat clenching up. “So we’re not…?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I tried to look stuff up while you were gone, but I don’t have a computer, and it turns out when you do a search for ‘transsexual’ on the library computers—let’s just say I ain’t allowed in the library for a while.” He rubbed his arm and opened his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know if I can understand, and even if I can understand I just don’t know…” He trailed off. His shoulders sagged. “I don’t know, Amanda. I just … I just wish you were a girl.” His eyes widened as the words came out. “I mean, I wish you were never … I wish you were always…”
“No,” I said, the strength in my voice surprising me, that one word so clear in the empty space. He sniffed and shifted his weight. “I was always a girl, always,” I said, my eyes burning. “See you around, Grant.” I turned and started to walk away but he grabbed my shoulder.
“I wanna try,” he said. He took his hand away and I turned back. “I think I need to hear it from you, though.”
I heard the kids down the hall shuffling into homeroom. I stayed where I was. “I still have the letter I wrote you,” I said slowly. “I could print it again.”
“No,” he said. “I’d like you to tell me face-to-face.”
“Okay,” I said after a moment. “How about tonight?”
*
Grant’s car motor was the only sound cutting the peaceful silence of the lake. I turned and watched him get out, my heart hammering at my chest. In the soft light at the end of the day, it felt like I was seeing him for the first time. His shaggy black hair rippled in the soft, cold breeze, and his dark eyes practically twinkled when they caught mine. He was wearing a faded old hoodie, jeans, and work boots, but even through his clothes I could tell how strong and graceful he was when he walked.
“Evening,” he said, flashing me a smile.
“Hi,” I said, taking a long, deep breath and closing my eyes. A silent moment passed as I readied myself for what was to come. “Where do you want me to start?”
“At the beginning,” Grant said. In the distance, a lone cicada made its call. “I wanna know everything, if you’re okay with telling me.”
“Okay,” I said, as I led him to the tree house. We settled in, not looking at each other, our eyes trained ahead on the sparkling water as it faded from the brightness of day to the dark glimmer of night. “I’ll start with my birth name.”
As I spoke I thought back to what Virginia had said weeks before, about getting anything you wanted if you let yourself believe you deserved it. For as long as I could remember, I had been apologizing for existing, for trying to be who I was, to live the life I was meant to lead. Maybe this would be the last conversation I would ever have with Grant. Maybe not. Either way, I realized, I wasn’t sorry I existed anymore. I deserved to live. I deserved to find love. I knew now—I believed, now—that I deserved to be loved.