What We Left Behind. Robin Talley

      My face breaks into a full-on grin.

      Two weeks ago, I’d emailed Toni a list of potential bus times for me to come visit. Toni had replied with a one-sentence note about being too busy.

      When I first read that email, I thought that was it for us. I thought Toni was so mad about what I’d done that T had decided never to see me again. I’d gotten embarrassingly hysterical about it, actually. Then Samantha came in from the bathroom and I had to pretend I was all emotional from watching a sappy video about cats.

      Then Toni sent me a totally normal text about dining hall food, and we’d gotten on video chat that night and gushed about how much we missed each other, and it seemed like things were back to usual between us. I guess Toni really was just overwhelmed in those first few days of school. I was so relieved I started crying as soon as we signed off the chat.

      Now I’m going up tomorrow, and we’re planning another trip for after that. I guess things really are back to how they’re supposed to be.

      “Sure!” I tell Toni. “I was thinking about going to the Village Halloween parade, but that’s okay. I’ve been before. Should I get a costume for the dance?”

      “Yeah. Get something sexy, all right? I want to show you off.”

      I laugh. Toni doesn’t usually say stuff like that. “Okay. Carroll can help me find something. Listen, do you have a sec to talk? It’s kind of serious.”

      “Yeah, sure. Hang on.” A door closes on Toni’s end of the phone. “What’s up?”

      I tell Toni about what I said to Carroll that first night. I don’t mention what Carroll said back, or how I didn’t know the answers to his questions. I’ll set him straight once I’ve read the websites and know the details.

      Toni doesn’t react the way I expected.

      “Oh, everyone knows now,” Toni says. “Even my roommates. Joanna’s in a class with someone who’s in the UBA, so they found out last week. It’s not a big deal.”

      “Wow.” I sit down on the bed. I can’t believe Toni didn’t mention this before. I keep my voice normal, though, because Toni’s acting like it’s nothing special. “Really? Are they being cool?”

      “Felicia’s being a bitch, but Felicia was a bitch already. Everyone else is acting extremely normal. Like they’re making a point of it. Ebony even asked me what pronouns to use.”

      “What did you tell her?”

      “That I didn’t care, yet.” I can hear Toni fidgeting. “Derek and Nance and those guys use male pronouns for me.”

      Oh.

      Toni’s never used male pronouns before. What does this mean? Is Toni, like—becoming a guy?

      Will Toni still like me as a guy?

      I slide down from the bed onto the floor. I shake my head even though Toni can’t see me. “Why?”

      “They assumed.”

      “Oh.” I nod. That’s good. That means Toni didn’t tell them to do it. “Did you tell them to stop?”

      “No. Actually, I kind of like it.”

      “Oh.”

      “It’s kind of making me wonder if maybe someday I’ll start asking other people to do that, too.”

      “Oh. Oh.”

      I shake my head again. I don’t understand what’s happening here. I don’t like this.

      Wait. No. That’s wrong of me. It isn’t up to me to like or not like this. This is Toni’s decision.

      Wait, but—is it a decision? Being genderqueer is like being gay, right? Being gay isn’t a choice, obviously. My parents gave me a book about that in elementary school when my brother first came out. Being gay or trans is no more a choice than being Australian.

      There’s silence on the other end of the phone. Toni’s waiting for me to talk.

      “Oh,” I say. “Really? When?”

      “I don’t know. I need to think more. I’ve talked to Derek about it. He’s cool. Easy to talk to.”

      I can’t tell if that was an accidental pronoun slip or if it was on purpose. I can’t remember the last time I heard Toni use a gendered pronoun. Well, if they’re already out at a party, they’ve probably been drinking, so...

      “Derek sounds great.” I swallow, still trying to sound normal. It’s not like I’m freaking out or anything. I’m just kind of...confused? Lost? “I’ll get to meet him when I come up tomorrow, right?”

      “Yeah! Of course. They all can’t wait to meet you. I showed them your picture. Nance called you a hottie.”

      I laugh. A little bit of the tension goes out of me. I can’t wait to actually see Toni again. Everything would be so much better if we could just touch each other. Just occupy the same space.

      Someone bangs on my door. “Gretchen! Let me in! I need your help with this shirt dilemma!”

      I laugh again.

      “Did you hear that?” I ask Toni.

      “Yeah. Have fun tonight. It’s a gay club, right?”

      “Yeah.”

      “Don’t do any drugs, okay? You would be so embarrassing high.”

      I laugh. “Will do. Have fun hanging out in somebody’s room.”

      We laugh some more.

      “I love you,” Toni says in a low voice that brings a whole new smile to my face, because I know that voice is meant for only me to hear.

      “I love you, too. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

      “I know. Me, too.”

      We get off the phone. Carroll, who’s kept up a steady beat on the door, acts all annoyed when I let him in. He’s topless, holding a stack of T-shirts.

      “Finally.” He plops down on my bed and holds the first shirt up to his chest. “Thoughts?”

      “Red works for you,” I say. “But isn’t it a bit much?”

      “‘A bit much’ isn’t necessarily a bad thing.” He holds up another. “Too boring?”

      “No, but won’t every other guy in the club be wearing that exact same shirt?”

      “Maybe not. I heard straight people go to this place on Friday nights, too.” He tries the one he bought at American Apparel last week. “This is the safest choice.”

      “I agree. It’s hot, though.”

      “Yeah, it is.” Carroll pulls on the T-shirt and saunters over to Samantha’s mirror to play with his hair. “I must say, for someone who dresses herself like a slacker hippie, you have decent taste in guys’ clothes. Maybe you’re really a gay man trapped in a lesbian’s body.”

      “No way,” I say. “I have a really strong gag reflex.”

      He laughs. “So it’s another boring T-shirt and jeans ensemble for you tonight?”

      “All I have is T-shirts and jeans. Oh, and that reminds me, I need you to come shopping with me soon. I’m going to a Halloween dance up at Harvard.”

      Carroll’s looking through my closet. He nudges aside the backpack I’ve already filled with clothes and books for the bus tomorrow. “You don’t need to go shopping for that. No one at Harvard has any clue how to dress. Here, wear this tonight.”

      He hands me a blue silk top I borrowed from someone last year and never gave back. I go in the bathroom to put it on.

      I’ve got to stop stressing