I stared at the guy for a full minute trying to discern who he might be, then it finally occurred to me to actually ask him.

“What do you need help with?” I asked with genuine concern. He really was worse for wear and I thought about inviting him in but I really didn’t want to bring a boy into the house. “What happened to your face?”

“I…” He said, shifting uncomfortably on the porch, his eyes darting to the left and right as if he was excepting something to come at him. “I don’t want to…I’m afraid to say…”

“You’re going to have to say something,” Remy said, walking up behind me. “Otherwise you can just get on your way.”

“Hey, wait up,” Laura strode toward us and moved past me. She stood in front of the boy and looked at his face, trying to make eye contact. She went so far as to gently place a hand under his chin and lift his head. “Did someone hurt you? Allison for god’s sake, don’t you have any empathy?”

“It was…um…” He stuttered and then looked down again. Laura quickly wrapped an arm around him and guided him into the house, bringing him to the common room and instructing him to sit on the couch.

“Someone hurt you,” She said. “And you came here, looking for Allison specifically. I think we can all put the pieces together here.”

“We can?” I asked curiously. I had no idea what the hell was going on.

“What’s your name?” Laura asked the boy.

“It’s um..it’s Tyler,” He said quietly, keeping his eyes fixed on the carpet. I was starting to recognize his expression, it was so similar to mine when I’d first come to this house. He had that whole deer in headlights thing going on for sure.

“Are you sure?” Laura asked, taking a knee in front of him and looking into his eyes for a moment as we stood and looked on. “Do you…have another name you go by?”

Now I was interested. Was this guy trans? Why hadn’t I picked up on it? Of course, at some point in my life I should probably accept that transdar isn’t real, and maybe, just make there had been fifty billion other signs since he’d shown up on the porch, but who was counting? I looked at him for a moment and kind of internally pleaded for him to say no. If he was a trans girl and if he…she had come here seeking my help, then I suddenly had a lot of responsibility on my shoulders.

“It’s…it’s…um…” He trailed off again, I could see tears forming at the corners of his eyes. I finally bent down and laid a had on his shoulder.

“Hey,” I said quietly. “It’s okay, you’re safe here, I promise.”

“Are you sure?” His voice cracked as he finally looked up at me. I did my best to smile, though I wasn’t sure who I was to be making promises like that.

“I…yes, yes, I promise,” I said. At least I didn’t cross my heart and hope to die.

“My name is Angela,” He said finally. I didn’t have to wonder what it felt like for her to say that name out loud, I’d been there. I remembered how much help I’d needed back then. Holy shit this was intense.

“Angela,” I said. “It’s very nice to meet you. Can you tell us what you’re running from?”

“It’s…my…it’s my dad,” She finally said. “I…he didn’t like the way…you know, the way I was. I came out to my parents and they said it was the devil, and they…called our pastor. He….said there was a way to cure people like me.”

“That’s horrible,” Remy said softly. “What did they do to you? Did they send you somewhere?”

“There was this place, it was like…a church camp kind of. They sent me there. It was um…Camp Chipenwood…”

“Camp Chipenwood?” Remy said. “That’s literally right up the road, I thought it was just a summer camp.”

“They made us do things, like…they made us read Bible verses and…we had these guides who would teach us how to be ‘manly’, I guess. I wasn’t doing…a good job of it.”

“What do you mean?” I asked curiously. “What did you do wrong? Well I mean you didn’t do anything wrong but…did they hurt you? Did they give you that black eye?”

“They…I guess….I could just show you..” Angela reached downward and lifted her pant legs, revealing an array of bruises that nearly made me vomit. Her legs had been beaten black and blue, I couldn’t tell with what.

“Angela,” Remy said quietly. “How old are you?”

“I’m uh…when they sent me away I was seventeen…that was…um…in 2018…what’s the date?”

“Do you have like, a license or a state ID or something?” Laura asked her. She held her hand out as Angela reached into her back pocket, removed her wallet and handed her the state ID - not a license; obviously she wouldn't have one. I briefly took note of her bruised fingertips. I felt like I was going to be sick.

“She’s eighteen,” Laura said, handing the ID back. “So what do we do?”

“Um, sidebar,” Remy said, pulling me to my feet and practically dragging me to the meeting room across the foyer. Laura followed. “Allison you’re not in any condition to start helping people. You’re just figuring out who you are, that’s why I told you to concentrate on having fun and studying. You need to learn yourself before you can help other people learn who they are, I know it sounds harsh but-“

“But she came here looking for me!” I argued. “Like…I brought it on myself with all the viral media and the fame, and the chocolate banana thing, and…it wouldn’t be right for me to just tell her she’s—”

“There’s very little we can do,” Remy informed me. “She can’t stay here and-“

“What? Why can’t she stay here, we’re supposed to-“

“Um, Allison,” Laura said. “Even if she wanted to join, Rush doesn’t start until next year and I think we’re clean out of COB’s. We’re a Greek house, not a battered women’s shelter. We can find her resources, we can find her a place to stay, but we can’t just-“

“Well maybe we can find her a place nearby and we help her…transition, you know, as a group. We’re supposed to be all accepting, right?” I was practically pleading now.

“Uh…” Remy said, staring directly at me. “Do you um…remember reading that story in the news about that school in North Carolina? Woodcrest, I think it was? Gamma Alpha Tau? Remember how they tried that? When was the last time you heard of Gamma Alpha Tau?”

“If I remember correctly,” Laura interjected “That trans girl did just fine, she’s still over there.”

“Yeah, except their house got eaten up by Delta Omicron Epsilon and now their colors are hot pink and green,” Remy shook her head. “Plus I mean…you know what happened to their president…”

“I…don’t think that’s going to happen to you,” Laura kind of snorted. “Unless you’re planning to launder money through a salad processing company and blow the-“

“Okay enough,” I said. “If I can’t help her, what am I supposed to do?”

“Get her the number for a shelter, get some resources together, be her friend if you want, but try to keep your distance. You can’t get too close to the people you want to help, it makes things too…murky,” Remy was lecturing me at this point. “If you get too friendly with them, you’re just going to start listening to what THEY want instead of giving them what they need. So, for example, you know she needs mental health but all she wants to do is go live under a bridge and start a cult to Cthulu like that girl from GAT did over at Woodcrest. You know better, you know that living under a bridge isn’t conducive to her mental health, so you suggest alternatives and push her in the right direction. You’re going to face this problem a LOT if this is the path you want to go down, sweetie.”

I looked back over toward the common room, Angela was simply sitting there, playing with her thumbs nervously. It was a pose I’d struck myself so many times. What was going through her head? I’d been lucky; my family had accepted me, I’d been tossed into a sorority full of women who were more than willing to help but from everything I’d read online, I knew that wasn’t always the case. I’d been so lucky. Now I was face to face with someone who hadn’t been that lucky and my inexperience and guilt was weighing down on me like Atlas’s burden. What was I supposed to do here? What could I even do here?

“Brianna,” I said. “She could stay with Brianna for a while.”

“Hon,” Laura said. “You really want to tell Brianna she needs to let a stranger into her home? I know this is a bad situation but you still have to think about-“

“I want her to be safe, like I am,” I argued. “Brianna would-“

“I have literally no doubt that Brianna would help her, “ Remy said. “But think about it like this. You move this girl into her house, everything goes great, and then what happens when the next trans girl comes along? And then the next, and then the next, and then the next? Are you going to send them all to live with Brianna or what? Do you want her to run a shelter out of her house? I know you want to help but you have to think about your family and your personal space. If you start helping people in both your personal and your professional life, then where’s your peace? You have to take time for you. You ALWAYS have to take time for you, understand?”

“Okay so what can we do for her?” I asked desperately. Remy was right; everything she was saying was absolutely correct but how was I supposed to accept that? Angela had come to ME for help. That was my responsibility, wasn’t it? Was Remy going to step in every single time I tried to help someone? How was I supposed to get anything done?

“Well first,” Remy said. “We can get her something to eat, the poor thing looks starved. Secondly, we can call around to different shelters, see if they can get her in. I mean look, I know it sounds cold, but you have SO much more to experience and learn before you can go saving the world. If you push this too hard, you’re going to get hurt, I mean it.”

“I okay,” I nodded, pretending to concede at least. “So, we just need to – wait, where is she?”

Immediately, all three of us turned our heads and looked toward the common room: she was gone and the front door was standing wide open as if she’d made a break for it.

“Remy,” I said, the tension rising in my voice like the erection you get after seeing the trailer for a new Avengers sequel. “ Do you think she could hear everything we were saying?”

“I mean…” She said. “I guess…possibly?”

“We have to go find her,” Laura said. “I know we’re supposed to keep our distance but I think we just ran her out of the house.”

“Okay,” I said. “Let me go grab my purse and –“

“We’ll take my car,” Remy insisted. “We can drive around and look for her. I promise we’ll get her back and we’ll get her the help she needs.”

“So you say,” I glared at Remy. She stared back at me with what I could only describe as pity in her eyes. Why did she feel sorry for me?

“Let’s just get going,” Laura said. “She can’t have gotten far.”