The Upper Valley Mall was a dream to Addy half the time. It was a little smaller when compared to the Fairfield Mall in Beavercreek, but it still had its charm, especially in the evening. Marble floors and high accent lights helped to bring out the best in the mall’s aesthetic, which included neon signs, kiosk displays, and even arcade games set up along the center of the mall’s main concourse. People of all types, -- children, adults, teens, men and women -- wandered up either side of the concourse, talking amongst themselves, shouting, eating, talking to vendors, minding their children.

The sides of the concourse were lined with a variety of stores that ranged from video game boutiques to shoe stores, clothing outlets, and even a science store filled with puzzles and ‘science kits’.

Addy straightened out the folds of her dress, stepping away from Marcus momentarily to peer into a shoe store and then falling in fell in step with Marcus again.

“We should visit that music store on the other end,” Marcus commented. “You know, the one with the red neon lights?”

“Every store here has neon lights. K.B. Toys, Suncoast, Spencers…” Addy counted them off on her fingers as she spoke, grinning slightly at Marcus. “What do you want to see at the music, store, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Marcus shrugged. “Maybe there’s something new out.”

“What do you listen to?”

“Oh jeez.,” Marcus rubbed his chin and stepped away from Addy, out of the center of the concourse; she followed him to a concrete fountain. “I like a lot of things.”

“Enrique Inglesias?” Addy suggested. Marcus frowned.

“Are you saying that because I’m Latino?” Marcus frowned, but Addy remained stoic, refusing to take the bait. “Yes.”

“Thought so,” Addy laughed. “Just seems your speed.”

“You know,” Marcus said, trying to recover the conversation. “If you uh…want to know what kind of music I’m into, I…have a CD. In my pocket, actually. It’s um…”

“Marcus,” Addy cocked her head and grinned wider. “Did you make me a mix tape?”

“Well, I mean, not necessarily,” He said quickly, his words nearly slurring. “It’s just a CD of music that…you know…I like to listen to--”

“That you keep in your pocket?”

“It’s not a mix tape!” Marcus protested. “I just…like music, okay?”

“Let me see it.,” Addy held out her hand and Marcus reluctantly reached into his jacket pocket and produced a blue ‘mini disc’ roughly the size of his hand. Addy took it and read the label. “‘Mix for Addy’. You sure this isn’t a mix tape?”

“Okay, so I made you a mix tape,” Marcus said, defeated. Addy laughed and looked at him affectionately.

“I love it,” She said, to his surprise. “Come on, let’s go listen to it.”

“Listen to it?” Marcus shook his head, and to Addy it almost looked as if he barely resisted the urge to snatch the disc back from her. “H-…how? Do you have a Walkman in your purse or something?”

“No no,” Addy laughed, grabbing Marcus’s hand. “Come on, let’s check out that music store.”

The music store was another example of a neon-imbued establishment designed to draw in the crowds, or more specifically young people, and it worked. Addy noted that Marcus seemed mesmerized as they stepped through the entryway, his eyes focused on the neon signage and the accent lights along each gondola of CD’s and cassettes that ran nearly the length of the store. It was pretty packed, but that was to be expected on a late Saturday afternoon, and it would get even worse as the night wore on. Addy made a note to herself to maybe get out before that happened.

His hand clasped tightly in hers, they made their way down the center aisle flanked on either side by new releases in the front, and classics arranged neatly on wire racks hanging from the top of each gondola. As they moved further, they left the CD cases behind and passed a few rows of cassette tapes, taking a right and rushing past the front register, which was encumbered with two lines of people stretching back to the gondola. A cardboard display of some singer Addy couldn’t identify stood near the end of one of the rows that they passed.

She led them through a sea of bargain bins to a side wall that had a sign labeled ‘Listening Booths’. There were six doors, most of them occupied, but Addy quickly found one that was open a crack. They shoved themselves into the cramped, seatless space and Addy began to laugh hysterically as Marcus was shoved up against her.

“Hey, it’s not funny,” He argued, then paused and looked into her eyes. “Maybe a little funny.”

“Very funny,” She corrected him, holding up the mini-disc between them. “Let’s see what kind of person you are.”

“You can’t tell what kind of person I am by what I listen to,” Marcus argued, but Addy had already opened the CD tray and was handing Marcus one of the pairs of oversized earphones.

She grinned widely, putting on her own pair, and Marcus laughed, presumably at how comically large the earphones were compared to her head. Addy rolled her eyes and hit play.

There was a moment’s pause and she twisted the left side of her mouth into a grin, nodding as ‘Making Love out of Nothing at All’ by Air Supply began to play. Marcus looked down in embarrassment, but Addy quickly hooked the bottom of his chin with her index finger, lifting his head and shaking hers, the grin growing wider.

“You weren’t supposed to listen to it when I was right here,” Marcus told her, loud enough to hear over the earphones. Addy shushed him and played the next song, a pick from ‘Matchbox Twenty’.

“Okay, maybe not the greatest if you’re trying to impress a girl.,” Addy gave him a laughing lecture as ‘Back 2 Good’ started to play. Marcus closed his eyes, his body going slack with defeat.

“Hey! Don’t go all Rylee on me!” Addy said, giving him a shake until his eyes opened.

“All ‘Rylee’?” Marcus pulled one of the earphones away, his face contorting into a frown. “What does that mean?”

“You know what it means.,” Addy snorted. “Self- conscious, self- loathing, self- anything negative. Let’s not do that.”

“Do not compare me to Rylee,” Marcus said, a hint of warning.

“Then don’t act like her,” Addy smirked. “You couldn’t pull off the dresses anyway.”

“I wouldn’t want to,” Marcus said.

“Kiss me, you idiot,” Addy said, drawing him close. “Just fucking kiss me.”

---

“Come on, sit on the bed,” Anette gestured to Rylee’s bed, and Rylee, rather dutifully, plopped down on the mattress and leaned back, supporting her upper body with open palms on the comforter behind her. Ariel stood behind Anette and to the left with her arms crossed, looking at Rylee, then occasionally looking around at the contents of the room. “Okay, let’s get your shoes off.”

Ariel uncrossed her arms and stepped around the bed, taking her attention off of Rylee for the moment as she perused the closet, running her fingertips across the rows of clothing and occasionally plucking out a top or a skirt and looking at it before pushing it back into its original position. A lot of the outfits belonged to Rylee, but more than half had come from Tori’s high school days; Ariel could tell by the outdated styles, which never seemed to bother Rylee. Ariel moved away from the closet and to the dresser, going through the dated collection of CD’s while Anette chatted to Rylee behind her.

“You haven’t been taking care of your feet,” Anette lectured. “Have you been wearing nothing but flats?”

“No,” Rylee said insistently, though protesting a little too hard.

“Are you sure?” Anette lifted Rylee’s foot up, examining the sole. “You’ve got some pretty nasty calluses callouses, even on the ends of your toes.”

Ariel watched Rylee wince as Anette pressed against the heel of her left foot; she looked apologetically toward Anette before pressing her lips together and lowering her gaze to her knees.

“Rylee,” Anette said as Ariel turned away and continued to explore the room. “You have an arch, you need to give your feet a break. Wear something with an arch. You still don’t like heels, right?”

“Heels?” Ariel spoke up as Rylee wordlessly shook her head to Anette.

“Trauma,” Anette said to her. Ariel nodded and resisted the urge to sigh aloud. She hadn’t fully unraveled what had happened to Rylee in the years after she’d left home, but she was getting a pretty decent idea. “Here, I’m going to put this ointment on your feet, then we’re going to get you a pair of clean socks.”

“We should get you some new music, Rylee,” Ariel commented as she sorted through the CD’s Tori had left. “This stuff is old.”

“I like it,” Rylee said, giving a half hearted smile to Ariel as Anette began to run the ointment on her feet.

“Good,” Ariel said. The simple statement from Rylee meant much more than perhaps anyone outside the situation could understand. Admitting that she liked something, and standing firm on it was a huge deal for her. Ariel wondered if Anette had caught the significance of the statement, but her expression remained the same as she tended to Rylee’s sores and calluses. “Anette, do you guys do this a lot?”

“Her feet?” Anette said absently. “I check them every few weeks, yeah. She did a lot of walking before and she still hasn’t completely healed. Footwear choice plays a factor here.”

Ariel barely repressed the urge to give a massive grin at the situation; someone fussing over Rylee more than she did back in the old days…well, that was something, wasn’t it? She watched closely as Anette finished with the ointment and slid a pair of pink fuzzy socks over Rylee’s feet and proceeded to ask her a series of health related questions. Yes, she’d been taking her medicine, yes she was washing her face, yes, she was brushing her teeth every single day. A slew of other hygiene and self-care related questions followed with Anette reassuring her that she could be honest, every step of the way.

“What about a pair of sneakers?” Ariel suggested, pulling a pair from the closet; she frowned when she didn’t recognize the style. “These are some really old Converse.”

“Tori went to high school in ‘95,” Anette reminded her as she stood up and walked over to join Ariel at the closet. “Some of her stuff is from the eighties.”

“You sure?” Ariel frowned. “Wouldn’t that be small on Rylee?”

“Rylee’s small,” Anette said, offering little more, aside from a thoughtful glance at the closet.

“Right,” Ariel said, looking at the sneakers. “These are flat though, it may not work.”

“I can’t wear sneakers with a skirt!” Rylee complained. “it doesn’t look right!”

“No one on Earth said you had to wear a skirt,” Ariel pointed out. “Besides, there are jean skirts.”

“I can’t wear pants,” Rylee explained, probably for the millionth time. “What if I get an erection, or someone looks too close?”

“I really hope no one’s looking at your crotch.,” Ariel’s tone was somehow a mixture of curiosity and a subtly-delivered lecture. “Besides, you can just wear leggings and a really thick pad. Then you can be embarrassed about that instead.”

“I don’t think you take me seriously.,” Rylee’s expression was flat, but her eyes filled with worry. “I don’t want people to know that I’m a…a….”

“Girl,” Anette cut her off; both Ariel and Rylee gave Anette a passing glance before returning their attention to each other.

“Rylee, it's literally a matter of time before someone catches on. You’re really, really passable, but there are people who just catch onto this shit, you know? We just have to be ready.”

“Ariel, I don't want people to know!” Rylee said, dangerously close to anger. “I just want to be a girl!”

“You are! You obviously are!” Ariel grabbed Rylee’s shoulders, staring into her eyes. “But…but people are going to notice because there are things we can’t hide unless you want to get like, a thousand dollars worth of surgery!”

“A little more,” Anette interjected; they both looked at her again, then back to each other.

“But what if I start growing a beard or…what if my voice gets deeper?”

The room fell silent and Ariel placed one hand on her hip while looking to Rylee, slightly annoyed.

“Anette,” Ariel said. “Do you mind if I talk to my sister alone for a minute?”

“I’ll be in the living room, probably drinking,” Anette said just before leaving the room.

Ariel watched Rylee carefully, trying to ensure that her next words came out without sounding too mean. She failed.

“It’s never enough for you, is it?” Ariel asked a suddenly shocked Rylee. Ariel paused, sucking in a breath and shifting to her other foot. “Back then, at home, I helped you the best I could, but it was never fucking enough. I let it suck the life out of me, and it wasn’t enough. I gave up college for you, I gave up a potential career and it wasn’t enough for you. Now you’re here and these people are giving you everything they have, and you’re still freaking the fuck out. Does it stop at any point, Rylee? Does it stop? Do you ever just fucking appreciate what you have?”

“That’s not true!” Rylee managed to blurt out. “I’m just afraid because--”

“Shut up!” Ariel snapped. “I’ve been here less than a week and it’s the same old shit. Stop walking around acting broken and like the entire world is against you because maybe a lot of it is but you have friends. You have family. You have so much more than you would have had at home! Just fucking enjoy it, would you?”

Rylee stood there in stunned silence; tears began to form in her eyes as they watched each other, the only audible noise now the sound of killdeer singing outside the window. The white walls normally made the room seem more expansive, especially on a bright day like this, but now they seemed to be closing in, suffocating, and Ariel could easily see the discomfort on her sister’s face. In response, she tried to reel it back a little.

“Rylee,” Ariel said softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell, but this place…this is perfect. It’s everything home should have been for you…for us, and you…you’re still putting up a fight.”

“So are you,” Rylee reminded her. “You wanted to take me away.”

“Because it was too good to be true, and because…ugh.,” Ariel squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again as she tried to process the situation. “Why would someone take you in after you broke into their house? Why would they give you a room? Why would they help you with your transition? Why any of that? But apparently, they just…are. I’m working on getting it, Rylee--”

“So am I,” Rylee said, causing Ariel to pause for a moment; she nodded to her little sister.

“I think it’s us,” Ariel said in a resigned tone, dropping to the bed and letting out a deep breath. “I think…that…maybe what Tori and Anette are doing for you…for us, is normal and we're just not used to people being kind. And Anette, she’s like…she’s like a mom. Like what a mom is supposed to be.”

“Like on TV,” Rylee added; Ariel nodded again.

“Yeah, like on TV. The truth…Rylee is…I don’t get how you stumbled into something like this. I spent years looking for you and you…you’ve been here, like, you got so lucky when you left home. I don’t understand, maybe I never will.”

“Ariel, I …” Rylee began to turn red and then instinctively rubbed her eyes, taking a ragged breath before she sat timidly on the bed beside Ariel. “I didn’t just…I…”

“Take your time.,” Ariel reached out and wrapped her arm around Rylee’s shoulders, pulling her close. Rylee took short, shallow breaths as her eyes darted and the memories came to her.

“I didn’t just stumble into it. There was a lot of stuff before this.”

“I know.,” Ariel nodded, squeezing her sister a little tighter. “Tori and Anette told me some, but they know there’s more. I know there’s more.”

“There is…was….” Rylee leaned into Ariel finally, her body tense even as she tried to relax. Her breathing increased; Ariel could feel her tremble. “I’m…just…I feel….like none of it should have happened.”

“Of course it shouldn’t have happened!” Ariel assured her. “People are cruel, they just are. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m technically not a girl,” Rylee said, leading Ariel to pull away slightly and look at her. “I…should have been able to take care of myself. I…should have fought back.”

“Rylee…”

“I want to tell you,” Rylee whispered.

“When you’re ready,” Ariel offered another reassurance. “You don’t have to now.”

“But I want to. Now.”

So she told her. Rylee told her every detail, and Ariel’s eyes grew wider as the moments passed. Ariel’s free hand found Rylee’s, squeezed it, and then used it to wipe away her sister’s tears. In the end, all she could do was hold her close and whisper that she was sorry, even though it wasn’t enough. In the end, it was Rylee who tried to reassure Ariel, telling her that it was okay, she was alive; she made it.

Ariel didn’t know how to tell her that sometimes, being alive wasn’t enough.

---

“You ever think about how weird this is?” Marcus asked her as they passed a black ‘Suncoast Video’. Addy looked to him questioningly, waiting for him to explain. “It’s just…I mean…before, we didn’t really talk like this and…I don’t know, I don’t think we were really ‘liking’ each other. I don’t know how to say it, I guess. Things just changed really fast all because of…”

“Because of Rylee,” Addy finished for him. “Yeah, I get it. We all changed.”

“Yeah, but why?”

“Marcus, we’re on a date,” Addy reminded him. “You really want to go that deep?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Marcus said, falling silent. Addy grinned at him and gestured toward the left; they took a turn, heading toward the food court. “What do you want to eat?”

“I’m dying for a soft pretzel,” Addy mused. “They’re greasy, though.”

“Isn’t that part of the appeal?”

“Hmm.,” Addy stepped ahead, just slightly, and she could feel his eyes on her as her own eyes traversed the food court, looking from menu to menu. She’d chosen an unusual outfit for today: a white cotton dress that tied at the waist and fell just above her knees. She threw a glance back at Marcus and grinned as his face reddened and he looked away, quickly. “Look over there, they’ve got pretzels.”

“I’d hope so.,” Marcus looked in the direction she was pointing. “Their logo is just a giant soft pretzel.”

“Sarcasm isn’t a great choice on a first date.,” Addy stuck her tongue out; Marcus looked taken aback. “But…about the Rylee thing, as much as I don’t want to talk about her on our date, she’s taught us both a lot, even if we weren’t trying to learn.”

“Like what, how to fail at being a master thief?”

“I think we came closer together, trying to take care of her,” Addy suggested. “aAnd…I learned a lot, myself.”

“Like what?” Marcus looked hungrily toward the pretzel stand; his stomach began to grumble. “She’s kind of a brat.”

“Yeah, I’m not going to argue with that.,” Addy shook her head. “She is a fucking brat, but she is a ‘she’, and that’s the part I had trouble with. I was freaked out at first, really confused, and I kind of stormed off, but I really got to know her and, like, there’s no way that could be a guy. I can’t even picture it.”

“Would it be bad if I told you I still had trouble with it?” Marcus wondered aloud; he then looked over to Addy, who was regarding him with a serious expression.

“Don’t tell Tori that,” Addy advised, shaking her head. “She’ll skin you alive.”

“Yeah, I know,” Marcus said. “She really is protective.”

“You know, you talk about her an awful lot.,” Addy’s tone bordered on accusatory, causing Marcus to raise an eyebrow, and then his eyes widened as he began to understand the context.

“Addy, I wouldn’t think of her like that,” Marcus quickly defended himself. “She’s…she’s too…”

“What?” Addy demanded. “She’s too what?”

“Um…old?” Marcus stammered, trying to choose his words carefully. Addy seemed to relax, but only slightly; she turned fully to face him, standing before the neon lights of some bougie donut shop.

“You’re sure you’re not attracted to her?” Addie demanded again. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

“No!” Marcus sputtered. “She’s not! She’s…like…no!”

“Okay look, Marcus,” Addy’s tone calmed a little. “Tori’s pretty – no, don’t give me that look. She is. You don’t need to lie to me, I’m sorry if--”

“I don’t think of her that way,” Marcus insisted again, cutting her off. He looked to the left, toward the rows of densely populated tables. So far, their increasingly heated conversation was masked by the murmurs and shouts of the food court’s populace but as his eyes darted from left to right, he began to worry that at least some of them would take notice. He lowered his voice, nearly to a whisper. “Addy, I find you attractive, not her!”

“Marcus, it’s okay!” Addy insisted. “Look, she’s cute, we both know she’s cute. If we’re going to go forward with this thing, we have to be honest with each other, right? I mean, she kissed you, and I know that had to have an effect, of some kind at least!”

Marcus sighed and paused, recalling the distinct and highly detailed memory of Tori shoving him against the side of the food truck, pinning his arms, and kissing him, deeply, almost as if she thought he were someone else, even though the kiss had been purely reflexive. One hell of a reflex, though. Did he think she was attractive? He concentrated on the memory of her long, bright red hair,; straight up top with a natural curl near the bottom. She had this clear complexion that was obscured by dozens of tiny red freckles dotting her cheeks, and a pair of red, plump lips that nearly dominated the lower half of her face. Conventionally, yes, she was pretty.

“I um…yes,” Marcus said, nodding nervously. “I mean…I guess she is. A little.”

“A little.,” Addy’s face hardened again; her lip curling as she looked at him. “So you do like her!”

“That’s not -- come on!” Marcus said just a little too loudly; a few of the food court diners looked up from their plates and away from their friends to see the source of the commotion. He noticed, and immediately lowered his voice. “Addy, I didn’t ask her to kiss me.”

“You didn’t really stop her either,” Addy pointed out. “Not that I blame you;, I mean, look at her.”

“Addy!”

“Oh come on,” Addy scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t--”

“No! Do you know how old she is?”

“Oof,” Addy said. “Don’t say that to her face.”

“I didn’t kiss her,” Marcus reiterated. “She pinned me to the truck and kissed me.”

“Okay, but why?” Addy was staring at Marcus intently now. “She wouldn’t just do that for no reason. You had to give her some kind of signal.”

“Oh…my god.,” Marcus had to fight to keep his voice down. “She’s just crazy, okay? She probably doesn’t even know why she did it!”

“And yet,” Addy mused, cocking her head. “She did it, and you didn’t stop her.”

“Oh my god,” Marcus said again. “Can we just eat?”

Addy shook her head and patted him on the cheek, turning toward the pretzel display as if she’d simply dismissed the entire idea, but her expression said otherwise. They stepped forward, waited in the line and ordered two soft pretzels and two medium Pepsi fountain drinks. Addy noticed Marcus trying to get lost in the brief snack to avoid any further questioning from her and for the moment, it worked. She chewed on her pretzel as they made their way to an empty table near the edge of the food court and sat next to a long concrete planter filled with greenery. On the other side, the concourse and its growing crowds were visible and teeming with mostly couples in their twenties, holding hands and talking or laughing as they reached the end of the food court and then diverged from the crowd, taking a left or right on the concourse or disappearing into one of the dozens of stores or shops.

“Stop looking at other girls,” Addy said, taking a bite out of her pretzel and washing it down with a drink of her Pepsi.

“Addy, are you being serious right now?” Marcus frowned, setting his pretzel down. “This is our first date and you’re acting like a…”

“A what?”

“I mean…you’re getting jealous over someone I don’t even have feelings for!” Marcus sputtered out.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” Addy said. “I get jealous sometimes.”

“Okay, you need to calm down.,” Marcus’s suggestion wasn’t so much a suggestion. “We’re on our first date, get jealous when we’re on our third. Or fourth. Preferably never, but if you absolutely have to…”

“You’re too serious,” Addie smirked and chucked, picking up her pretzel again as she watched the bewilderment on Marcus’s face grow. “I’m just messing with you.”

“Addy, it’s really, really hard to tell,” Marcus sighed, though still apprehensive. “I want this to work out, but…”

“But save the crazy until after we’re in a committed relationship?”

“Hey, that’s not what--” Marcus cut himself off mid-sentence, his face scrunching up as he thought about what he was saying. Then, finally, his facial muscles relaxed and his expression fell flat. “Yes.”

“Okay!” Addy said, clapping her hands as if the noise would clear the air between them. She gave Marcus a wide grin and then spoke again. “What’s your favorite movie?”

“What?”

“Favorite color? Food? I’m trying to get to know you!” Addy raised both eyebrows and tilted her head slightly forward urging Marcus to answer.

“Right,” Marcus nodded. “Um, I guess…The Last Action Hero.
”
“The last what?”

“Um, it has Arnold Schwarzenegger,” Marcus explained. “It’s about this guy, he’s a police officer--”

“Okay,” Addy raised her hand, silencing him. “We’ve gotta get you some culture. Action movies are so lame.”

“I’m Latino, I have nothing but culture. Besides, it’s a movie that makes fun of action movies. It’s about this kid who gets a movie ticket and ends up inside the movie and it’s…okay I guess it’s a little dumb, but I like it. What’s your favorite?”

“‘10 Things I hate About You’, but ‘Mean Girls’ is a close second,” She took another bite of her pretzel and looked around, her attention suddenly drawn by the darkness of a nearby arcade, it’s sleek, glossy black exterior endowed with a neon sign that read ‘Play Time’. “I bet you’re one of those guys that likes video games too, aren’t you?”

“Is this entire date just going to be you bashing the things I love?” Marcus posed the question in a serious manner, but kept his voice even. “Besides, Rylee plays video games.”

“Rylee’s a kid.”

“It’s kind of easy to forget she’ll be nineteen in a few months, isn’t it?” Marcus reminded her. “Video games are for anyone.”

“Anyone who’s whose a kid,” Addy shot back; Marcus looked at her hard until her own expression softened. “Okay, okay! Jeez, I’m sorry.”

“You should try it sometime,” Marcus suggested. “We could find a ‘Barbie’ game or something.”

“Okay, you know what?” Addy rubbed her hands and stood up. “Let’s ask someone.”

“Ask someone what?” Marcus asked, his voice rife with curiosity as Addy’s head swiveled around the food court.

“Here, this guy!” Addy pointed to a man on the other side of the food court; he was older with wrinkled skin and sporting a white beard that seemed to go well with his threadbare trench coat. He was sitting on one of the long concrete planters when Addy and Marcus approached him. They stood there in silence for a second, but finally, Addy spoke. “Excuse me, sir, I’m sorry to bother you, but we…well no, I had a question for you.”

The old man, who had been busy with unwrapping a candy bar, looked up at Addy in surprise. He frowned and cocked his head.

“Yes?” The old man asked.

“Should grown men be playing video games?” Addy asked, folding her arms. The old man looked at her, utterly confused as he attempted to comprehend the question.

“Never did play them myself,” The old man shrugged. Addy smirked and looked to Marcus in triumph.

“See?” Addy grinned to Marcus.

“Okay that’s really not fair,” Marcus protested. “This guy probably fought in the Civil War, he’s never even seen a video game.”

“Don’t be dumb,” Addy lectured. “The Civil War was hundreds of years ago.”

“Excuse me.,” The old man frowned, raising a hand and calling them both to silence. “I uh…er…don’t know a lot about video games, per se say, I mean, but I do know something about relationships.”

Marcus and Addy froze, looked at eachother and frowned before looking back to the old man who seemed to have given up on his candy bar for the moment.

“You like video games.,” The man pointed to Marcus;, his voice resembled a frog’s croak, almost. Marcus nodded. “Well, relationships last if you make compromises. So you play video games with him, and then he does something with you.”

“I could put makeup on him,” Addy suggested.

“I’m not Rylee,” Marcus shot back. “Besides we’re not in a relationship, we’re just out…on a date.”

“Definitely putting makeup on you.”

“Look, children,” The old man croaked. “I’m very busy here. If you could just…”

“Alright, Marcus,” Addy said, relenting a little. “Let’s go play video games, and then we’ll do something I like. Deal?”

“I never asked you to do that,” Marcus pointed out. “You don’t have to play them, just don’t get mad at me for playing them.”

“You’re not getting out of this,” Addy said insistently, looking back toward the arcade. “Come on, we’re playing something.”

---

“Max, what the hell are you doing?” Fiona stood, arms crossed, in the middle of Max’s cluttered, trashed living room. Her foot idly kicked a discarded soda can out of the way, and she tapped fingers against her left arm in succession as Max looked at her with annoyance. “I told you to make a pile with everything you need. What the hell is this?”

Fiona stepped over to the pile that Max had accumulated over the last hour and snatched a ‘Wheaties’ box, shaking it to confirm that it was empty as she glared at him, immediately inquiring as to why he needed an old cereal box.

“Well they don’t make it anymore,” Max explained, uncertainty lacing his words as he confronted Fiona’s stony expression. “Look, look here, on the back. You can fold this flap down, and look, it’s a little cardboard basketball court. Cool, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Fiona said, gently taking the box from him and looking it over. “And you…throw a ball through this cardboard hoop?”

“Yeah! It’s cool, right?”

“Totally,” Fiona smiled before dropping the box to the floor and stomping on it, much to Max’s horror. “You don’t need a fucking cereal box, Max! You need to get your life in order! What’s that?”

“It’s a stand mixer, it’s for-”

“You have one in your kitchen,” She pointed out. “Do you even cook?”

“Well this one’s broken, actually-”

“Trash,” Fiona snapped, pointing to a separate pile near the front window. “Come on, we don’t have all day. What’s this?”

“It’s a pencil case.”

“Trash it,” Fiona pointed to the two boxes of contractor bags near the door. “Come on, throw that away, then we’re going to work on the rest of the house. Anything you didn’t put in that pile is going in the trash.”

“Fiona-”

“Shut up!” Fiona shouted; Max cringed and stepped back, his eyes wide as Fiona suddenly kicked a pile of trash and stomped her foot against the floor. “You are living like a god damn racoon! Do you understand me? Max? Look around you! Look! I thought you just weren’t living your life, but apparently you’re taking your feelings and manifesting them as this fucking landfill! Start cleaning!”

“Okay, okay!” Max leapt forward, moving past Fiona to grab one of the trash bags. “Just stop yelling, okay?”

“If I’d found Tori living like this, I’d do the same thing,” Fiona practically snarled. “And if she found Rylee living like this…well she’d probably make her write sentences or something, but my point stands.”

“Yeah,” Max said, rubbing his hair. “I get your point, can you just…be a little nicer about it?”

“Max, I swear to god- is that a shovel?” Fiona pointed to a wooden handle jutting out of a trash pile near the entertainment center. Max turned to the right then looked back to Fiona, the embarrassment written all over his face.

“Uh…yeah…” He muttered. “I was-”

“I don’t care what you were doing,” Fiona cut him off sharply. “Give me the bag. Give it!”

She practically jerked it out of his grip, plastic crinkling as she yanked the trash bag toward herself and pointed toward the shovel.

“I’m going to hold the bag open,” Fiona told him. “You get the shovel, and start shoveling shit in here.”

“Wait, everything?”

“I told you, make a pile of the things you absolutely need,” Fiona reminded him. “The rest is going in the trash.”

“Fiona…some of this stuff is still good,” Max frowned and looked around the living room, his eyes following the floor to the doorway of the kitchen beyond which lay more piles. “Like um…that VCR over there…”

“Dude, if I dig deep enough I can find the paleolithic era; how much have you used any of this shit? How long has it been sitting on your floor? Come on, Max, start shoveling.”

“Okay, you know what,” Max said. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right, Fiona.”

“I know I am.”

Max big his lower lip, then set his jaw as he plunged the shovel in to the pile of trash. He dumped some into the bag and then continued. They went on, Fiona holding the bag, Max shoveling. They filled three bags and moved on to a fourth. Little by little, the living room floor started to become visible, and the mood became a little lighter as Max started to see the positive results. As the fourth bag was filled halfway, he stopped, holding the shovel, his knuckles white as he gripped the wooden handle and his eyes distant.

“Max?” Fiona attempted to draw his attention. A moment later, he looked at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Why are you doing this?” He asked; there was no anger or accusation in his voice, just pure curiosity. “You could be…off doing anything else. School, hanging out with Tori, but instead you’re here…helping me clean up a bunch of shit I should have cleaned up myself. Why?”

“You can’t do it yourself if you’re overwhelmed,” Fiona pointed out. “Most people can’t. Do I think you should have caught it before it got this far? Hell yes I do, but you didn’t, and the only thing we can do about it right now, is fix it.”

“But why help me? I don’t get it, Fiona.”

“Jesus Christ, Max, you sound more and more like Rylee. Maybe I want to, or maybe it’s the right thing to do,” Fiona took a deep breath and dropped the trash bag, placing her hands on her hips and staring hard at Max. “Or maybe, Max, just maybe I’ve recognized that no matter how hard Tori and I tried to push you out, you’re part of our fucked up little family. You, Rylee, Ariel, late additions maybe but you all belong here. You don’t have to be fucking Tori to be a part of it.”

“Who the fuck is Ariel?”

“Not important,” Fiona shook her head and waved her hand in a dismissive gesture as a befuddled expression formed on Max’s face. “What is important, is that Tori, Anette, and I…well, a few months ago our relationships were strained and now we’ve just…rallied around a cause. I guess.”

“Rylee,” Max nodded.

“Rylee,” Fiona nodded back. “Look Max, honestly? Tori and Anette could use the help, if you really want to get involved.”

“Hold on, involved how?” Max frowned. “Are you guys doing something weird?”

“Well, Rylee’s going to be starting some photography classes over at Clark State,” Fiona suggested. “Maybe you can take her to some of those.”

“Photography,” Max echoed. Fiona nodded; he stared at her, hard, though his expression conveyed a hint of confusion. “So you want me to be an errand boy?”

“We all run errands,” Fiona’s tone was very matter of fact; she placed one hand on her hip and returned Max’s hard stare. “and we also have family dinners, we do things together, we help each other. So do you…want to hang around your shitty house all day or what?”

“Not really,” Max admitted. “But I don’t want to spend all my time doing other people’s bitch work either.”

“Your choice,” Fiona shrugged. “But you should keep shoveling, we’re losing time.”

“Right, right,” Max plunged the shovel into another pile and delivered the contents into the bag; at one point he reached for something, but Fiona made a loud ‘Uh-uh,’ waving her finger in objection. “So, photography, huh?”

“We’re encouraging her to do the things she never got to do,” Fiona explained. “and as it turns out…that’s a lot of things.”

“She’s pretty messed up, huh?”

“It’s something we’ll have to talk about,” Fiona explained. “If you’re going to be around her, that is. Honestly I don’t know how Tori’s going to feel about this.”

“Am I that bad?”

“I don’t think so,” Fiona shook her head. “I think you and Tori fell out for a legit reason, but you were never the bad guy, and neither was she. Rylee though…Tori, Anette, and I pick up on things about her that she might not even know, and sometimes we don’t tell her. She’s afraid of men.”

“Afraid of men?”

“Yup,” Fiona said, gesturing toward the trash bag again; Max continued shoveling but didn’t break eye contact. “She still shrinks back from Marcus. Not as bad as she did, and she’s never said she’s afraid, but her body language tells us part of the story.”

“What happened to her?”

“That’s her story to tell,” Fiona said. “So, you think you’re up for this shit?”

“Being around your girl, you mean?”

“Any of it,” Fiona lowered the bag for a moment, looking into Max’s eyes. “Can you be around Tori? Can you handle showing up when you volunteer for shit? Don’t be a fucking disappointment Max. Show up.”

“I’ll try,” Max promised. Fiona nodded.

---

“Okay, I admit it, that was fun,” Addy smirked to Marcus as they stepped way from the ‘Tekken 2’ arcade cabinet. The screen flashed brilliant colors before their eyes, accompanying the cadence of a dozen other cabinets around them. Behind them and to the sides, the buzz of children and adults, the shuffling of feet, and the occasional shout added to the darkened atmosphere of the arcade. The space was likely pretty big, but the large machines, the darkness, and the warmth of dozens of bodies made the area feel small and intimate. The words: ‘Insert Coin’ flashed across the center of the screen in block letters.

“You kicked my ass,” Marcus said, still disbelieving what had just transpired. “I-”

“You didn’t think girls could play games, huh?”

“That…is not the reason I’m surprised,” Marcus still seemed stunned; Addy cocked her head.

“Come on, let’s go do something I want to do…unless you want me to kick your ass again,” Addy shot Marcus a mischievous look; he blushed and gave her a half-hearted smile.

“What do you uh…want to do?” Marcus asked her; his eyes met hers in the darkness of the arcade. Pushed, jostled, and shoved by children, teens, and adults alike, they somehow managed to feel as if they were the only two people inhabiting the space. The sound of the crowds, the buzz of the overhead lights, the noise from the arcade cabinets, all of it faded momentarily, leaving Addy and Marcus with just the rhythmic sound of their own breathing, and their potent grins.

“I…I don’t know,” She admitted. “I mean, normally I like to go window shopping, but…I don’t really know right now. Maybe we could just walk a little?”

“I could walk,” Marcus reached down, giving Addy’s hand a squeeze; she looked up at him and pressed forward, embracing him in a hug.

“Do we really want to do this?” She asked him as they crossed the threshold back onto the mall concourse. “I mean, us. I…am I really ready for a relationship?”

“Has it been a long time?”

“I dated a guy in high school,” Addy said. “And a girl. Neither one ended well. I’m just worried that…it won’t work out.”

“I think,” Marcus said as they passed the food court and headed toward the center of the mall. “That I can do better than some dumb high schoolers you dated.”

“You were a high schooler like three years ago,” Addy reminded him,leaning in and giving his hand a squeeze. “Was there a huge change between now and then? Have an epiphany or something?”

“You’re funny,” Marcus said idly.

“So this is going to be us, then,” Addy allowed her thoughts to wander for a moment before they came back in full force, focused with a razor sharpness on the situation at hand. Marcus was someone that she’d known since kindergarten and sure, they’d become friends, but was he someone that she wanted to date? Until recently, absolutely not. What had changed?

“You’re wondering how this happened too, huh?” Marcus asked; Addy looked at him in surprise, as if he’d read her mind. Slowly, she nodded. Marcus watched her for a moment and then continued walking, slowly. “I think our parents had ideas of who they wanted us to date. Or marry, or whatever. I think maybe we listened to them way too long. And then comes this girl who knows who she is and what she wants, and she’s ready to die for it. It’s not a figure of speech either, I mean, if the wrong person figured it out, ‘bam’ that could be it. If she’s ready to die for who she is, then we should be able to date who we want, to be who we want. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Are you uh…sure you don’t still have a crush on her?” Addy asked, smirking and then raising an eyebrow. “You were going pretty hard there, for a while.”

“It’s not my fault she’s kind of cute,” Marcus pointed out. “But she acts like a teenager. A young teenager. Not my thing.”

“She’s come a long way,” Addy pointed out. “She looks at people when they talk to her, that’s pretty big.”

“So, if she can do it, so can we,” Marcus nodded, the resolution in his voice. “but I don’t know, is it what we want?”

“I’m game to try,” Addy nodded, smiling as she gripped Marcus’s hand and led him in the direction of a sporting goods store. “Come on, we’re going to do what I want now.”

“And what’s that?” Marcus allowed himself to relax, following her through the concourse as she quickly made her way toward the sporting goods store. The interior lights were on now; huge glob lights lining the walls of the concourse, mounted to the walls every five feet or so. The skylights overhead had gone dark with the passing of evening, and the mall crowds were now out in full force. Where the concourse had been relatively empty when they’d come in, it was now teeming with life and buzzing with conversation. The shouts of children and the loud inflections of high schoolers could be heard echoing through the space as they stood at the halfway-point between JC Penny and Sears.

“I want to-” Addy stopped speaking mid-sentence, her attention drawn to the old man from earlier, now sitting on one of the concrete benches between two stores. “Oh my gosh, we should talk to him!”

“Talk to him? About what?”

“We have to tell him he was right!” Addy said, excitedly. “About everything, about us! We did what he said, and look how happy we are!”

“I don’t think he had anything to do with it…” Marcus gave a weak protest but Addy was already heading over to the bench, a huge smile plastered across her face. As she neared the old man, he gave her a look of recognition that quickly morphed into one of utter horror; she sat down on the bench beside him.

“Oh god,” The man shook his head. “What did I do now?”

“You saved our relationship!” Addy explained, smiling wider. The man rolled his eyes.

“If I saved your relationship, it wasn’t in that much danger, little girl,” He sighed. “Now if you would be kind enough to leave me alone…”

“We will,” Marcus said, quickly. “Gladly. Come on, Addy.”

“Wait, wait wait!” Addy shook her head as the old man stared at her with an expression that closely resembled terror. “What should we do next?”

“Next?” The old man asked, frowning.

“Well, yeah!” Addy said excitedly. “You helped us figure out the other thing, you’re like…I don’t know, kind of like a father figure!”

“Holy shit, Addy,” Marcus muttered; the old man’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head.

“Well, you did something he wanted, now he should do something you want,” The old man shrugged. “Though I’d strongly suggest running.”

“He’s not really into cardio, and neither am I,” Addy explained quickly. “I want to go camping, I love the outdoors.”

“I really didn’t know that,” Marcus said dryly. “You’re such a…girly girl.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Addy lectured. “You know that by now.”

“Okay,” Marcus said. “How uh…do you propose we go camping, in a mall?”

“Don’t be dumb,” Addy rolled her eyes and squeezed his hand. “We can just go look at camping stuff.”

“See? Great idea!” The old man exclaimed. “Now you can go to the camping store and leave me to be old and miserable.”

---

“The cable’s out again,” Anette dropped the remote on the TV stand; Rylee glanced back at her, and then to the computer where Tori had opened up a file folder and was looking through a list of photos. “Looks like I’m not watching CSI tonight.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Tori quipped. “It’ll just be the same show next week.”

“Rylee, what are you wearing?” Anette looked to Rylee who sat beside Tori at the dining room table, peering at the computer screen along with Ariel who stood behind them, one hand on Rylee’s shoulder. Rylee was dressed in a pair of black leggings with a pastel, patchwork hoodie consisting of at least five different colors. It was almost too big on her; the sleeves drooping around her palms and her midsection nearly swallowed by the fabric. She looked tiny.

“It’s one of mine,” Ariel explained. “I brought it with me.”

“It’s cute,” Tori looked over at Rylee, who immediately blushed, then smiled and tightened her shoulders. “Okay, let’s start from the beginning…yeah, this week you took a hundred and ten pictures, Rylee.”

“That’s a lot,” Rylee said, less than helpfully. Several months ago, Tori had given Rylee a DSLR camera that conveniently connected to any wifi network that it was in range of, sending all of Rylee’s photos to Tori’s email address. Each week, they sat down at Tori’s computer, went through the photos, and decided what should be saved. In the beginning, most of her photos were blurry, but with a little help from Tori and a lot of experimenting, almost every photo was now crystal clear.

Tori clicked through the photos, asking Rylee what she wanted to do with each one. Here and there, Ariel gave input as she sipped on a mug of hot chocolate and gave Rylee’s shoulder a squeeze.

“I wish mom and dad had let you do this,” Ariel commented. “You’re so good at it.”

“They did let me have a camera,” Rylee noted. “I mean, kind of.”

“They gave you a shitty Kodak from the eighties, with that really weird film,” Ariel said, twisting her nose up.

“The 110, yeah,” Rylee nodded. “The film wasn’t really the problem though.”

“Uh, yeah, if it’s crappy film you get a crappy picture,” Ariel frowned.

“You would think,” Rylee shrugged. “But 110 is all mechanical; you can change the film speed with that slider on the side. It’s just that not all cameras can do it. You also kinda gotta remember that ISO is part of the film; you can’t change it on a regular camera so you have to be careful what you get. If you have a high ISO film and try to take a picture in a bright room, it might get weird.”

“See this is why they should have let you do this stuff,” Ariel said, shaking her head. “You’re so smart!”

“I just read a lot,” Rylee shrugged. “and I play around with the camera.”

“You are smart,” Tori said, clicking to the next picture. “It’s kind of been fun watching you regain your confidence.”

“Angering, really,” Ariel muttered; Anette shot her a look of warning from the kitchen, which was ignored entirely. “You used to…do so many things. You were so good with computers, you read a ton, you played chess, and I mean, you’re a brown belt in Taekwondo-”

“She’s what?” Tori and Anette said simultaneously. Anette froze in place, looking from Ariel, to Rylee, then back to Tori, wide-eyed. Tori’s hands stilled, her fingertips hovering over the keyboard as she whipped her head around to make eye contact with an embarrassed Rylee.

“Um…” Rylee stammered, shifting in her seat and wringing her hands. “I’m…not good at it. I just passed some tests.”

“You can fight,” Tori blinked, turning in her seat, her knees rubbing up against Rylee’s thighs as she stared at her. “Like, you really, really know how to fight.”

“Kinda of,” Rylee shrugged.

“So uh…when Marcus came over, to teach you some moves,” Tori stared hard at Rylee. “After you got attacked, that first time…was he…good?”

A dead silence fell over the dining room as Anette leaned forward on the counter while Tori and Ariel watched Rylee, anticipating her response. Rylee fidgeted, wringing her hands and darting her eyes from side to side before finally rolling her shoulders back and shaking her head quickly.

“No,” She said, nearly whispering. Anette snorted.

“Rylee,” Tori said, frowning. “If…you have a brown belt in Taek…whatever it is, why don’t you use it? Why do you let people just…hurt you?”

“She doesn’t want to hurt anyone,” Anette said quickly before Rylee could react. “She knows how but she can’t bring herself to do it. It’s admirable, but it also gives us another reason to keep her locked in the house.”

Ariel cringed.

“Speaking of,” Anette interjected quickly, again. “Rylee, we signed you up for your photography classes, it’s at Clark State on Saturday mornings, 10 AM to 1 PM. Ariel, when we take Rylee in on Saturday we’re going to talk to a career counselor. There’s a woman in the admissions office, her name is Brynn, very nice lady; she’s already looking into scholarships for you.”

“That was…fast,” Ariel was more than a little stunned; Anette simply shrugged.

“Life comes at you fast, or so they say,” Anette stepped over to the stove and placed the tea kettle onto one of the burners, twisting the knob and watching as the surface began to glow beneath the kettle.

“What about the food truck?” Ariel frowned. “I thought I was going to work there?”

“You are,” Tori clicked to the next picture; it was one of Tori and Fiona standing in front of the house. “But only when you’re not in school. Marcus and I have it handled, mostly.”

“Okay, enough,” Anette clapped her hands as the teapot began to whistle. “Checklist for tomorrow; Rylee, what do you got?”

“My backpack is ready, it’s sitting beside my door,” Rylee said.

“Outfit for tomorrow?” Tori turned from the computer and looked at her.

“I wanted to do a denim skirt and this pink sweater,” Rylee said.

“Okay,” Tori nodded and began the process of shutting down the computer. “And you set them aside?”

“They’re just in the closet,” Rylee lowered her head; Tori tapped her shoulder until she looked up again.

“Put them on the chair so you’re ready in the morning,” Tori instructed. “go shower and brush your teeth, okay?”

“Okay,” Rylee said, her voice low, nearly a squeak as she rose from the table. Tori gently took her wrist, stopping her from moving any further.

“Rylee look at me,” Tori said firmly. “I’m not mad at you, I’m not upset, I’m just trying to help you out. I know you’re tired when you get up, I know you’re kind of sluggish, so having everything out and ready is going to help you. Okay?”

“Okay,” Rylee whispered.

“Okay, come on, give me a hug,” Tori pulled her close, giving her a squeeze and letting her go. “You’re okay. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“She’s not okay,” Ariel said after Rylee disappeared down the hall. Anette poured tea into four separate mugs, distributing them amongst them and leaving one for Rylee.

“She’s never okay,” Anette said, almost offhandedly. “We’re working on it. But, the photography course is going to give her a chance to interact with people other than us in a safe environment.”

“You think she’ll be okay?” Ariel looked at Tori hard, the worry evident in her voice.

“Well,” Tori said, shutting the lid of the laptop. “At least we don’t have to worry about her running off anymore.”

“Was that a problem before?” Ariel frowned.

“She tried a few times in the beginning,” Tori said, sipping her tea. “The first night, I wouldn’t let her sleep alone, I just held her the entire night. Fiona had to physically stop her from running. She’s way more stable now.”

“Okay, so tomorrow is Friday,” Anette said, breaking a momentary pause in the conversation. “Ariel, we were thinking you could stay home and rest; Tori’s dropping the truck off in the morning to have initial work done on it. So, you’ll be here when Rylee gets home from school.”

“Okay,” Ariel said, nodding. “That sounds good.”

“Things to know,” Anette said, her voice slightly elevated as she looked at Ariel. “We installed locks on the windows after Rylee moved in, there’s only one key and it’s in the back of the junk drawer in a white box. The doors all deadbolt from the inside, especially at night. The key for that is-”

“You really keep her locked in?” Ariel raised an eyebrow, her face converting into a state of near-horror.

“She jumped off of a Ferris wheel to get out of an awkward situation,” Tori reminded her. “Plus, she agreed; we can take whatever measures we need to keep her safe.”

Ariel scratched her head and furrowed her brow, swallowing before looking back up at Anette, then to Tori.

“Do you uh…have a timeline, for how long she’s basically going to be a prisoner? Because…”

“We’ll lift some of the restrictions when she starts her senior year of high school,” Anette explained. “We’ll take the locks off the windows and doors, she’ll spend more time with friends, and we’ll allow her limited internet access. There’s more to it than that, though.”

“Right,” Tori pushed back from the table and stretched before rising from the chair and looking at Ariel with tired eyes. “When I first took her in I knew I’d be teaching her life skills. Basic hygiene, filling out applications, balancing a checkbook, doing laundry, whatever. What I didn’t anticipate was teaching her to navigate life as a trans woman. That one caught me completely off guard. I’ve been learning as fast as I can, and she’s good at it, but the life she’s chosen-”

“It wasn’t a choice,” Ariel interjected, suddenly. “She’s-”

“Yes!” Anette said quickly, her voice overpowering the conversation easily. “You’re right, Ariel, it wasn’t a choice for her to be transgender. It’s a part of her, it always will be, but she made a choice when she decided to bring it to the surface. She decided to live happily, as herself, she chose to live. But, Ariel, those choices have consequences.”

“You sound like Hayley,” Ariel sighed and looked down for a moment, deep in thought before returning her attention to Anette.

“It sounds like this Hayley had a point,” Tori nodded. “and a lot of experience. But, I’m guessing Hayley didn’t have enough time to show Rylee everything. Difference is we do have time. I don’t know everything; I’ll have to get help from time to time, but it’s going to get figured out.”

Ariel closed her eyes, squeezing them shut, then opening them; she took a silent step forward and slid into the chair where Rylee had sat just moments before and rested her head in her hands. Finally, she wiped her weary eyes and looked up at Anette; Tori placed a hand in the small of her back and gave a quick rub before stepping away.

“She…told me some things, today,” Ariel said softly, glancing down at the table before looking up to make eye contact with Anette again. “She…she went through some times. I know she…I…she told you some of it. You told me what you know, but the things…that she told me. I…she needed you. She needed you and you were there. I don’t know how but…you were. You’re doing all these things for her, and for me, and…I just don’t know what to think. I’m not used to it. Anette I’ve been so tired. When I left home I wanted to go to school but I had to get a job instead, to pay the bills, and I spent so much time looking for Rylee and…I’ve just been tired and I thought that was going to be my life. I thought…ugh….and now you’re here telling me it doesn’t have to be that way. I’m still trying to…wrap my head around it, you know?”

“Ariel,” Anette stepped closer to the table, watching her with concern. “I…don’t mean to constantly direct attention toward Rylee; you’re important too, but I need to know what she told you today.”

“If she told you something new we definitely need to know,” Tori echoed Anette’s sentiment. She may have told you in confidence, but we’ve been trying to coax it out of her for months. We need to know what happened.”

“I don’t know,” Ariel frowned. “She told me-”

“In confidence, yes, yes,” Anette waved her hand and shook her head; she took a seat at the table across from Ariel, their eyes locking as Tori moved closer, standing beside Ariel and looking down at her. “Come on, Ariel, this is important.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Ariel began to talk in a hushed tone to ensure Rylee wouldn’t overhear. It was difficult at first, but then the words began to flow and with them, the tears. From the corner of her eye she could see Tori’s hand turning to a fist, the knuckles white and whiter with each word; Anette’s face twisted into a scowl. As she finished her narrative, Tori commented that she was going to be sick, and Anette began to pace the room. As silence fell over the dining room, no one was prepared for Rylee as she trotted happily out from the hallway, dressed in a pair of pink cotton pajamas with a cat-eared hood, which she’d pulled up around her head; brunette hair jutting out, and an almost goofy smile on her face. She stopped short when she saw Ariel, Tori, and Anette staring at her.

“So uh…what’s going on?”

---

“Pass me a slice of pizza,” Addy said to Marcus as she leaned back, pressing the palms of her hands down on the AstroTurf, next to a shoddily built cardboard campfire. In front of them, a cardboard mountain scenery meant to imitate some vast outdoor landscape; they sat in front of it, a box of pizza and the cardboard fire between them as shoppers wandered thought the sporting goods store behind them.

It was a pretty simple display that had been set up within the sporting goods store; a square of green Astro turf laid out on a concrete floor with a few colorful dome tents to the left and right of them. It probably wasn’t intended for what they were using it for, but no one made a move to stop them.

“Look at this,” Marcus pointed to a cardboard sign next to a pristine butane grill. “We could have one of…these for seventy-five bucks.”

“Yeah?” Addy smirked. “What would you use it for?”

“Camping?” Marcus suggested; Addy stared at him intently. “Okay, I don’t go camping a lot.”

“Hmmm…” Addy leaned against thim, staring off into the distant, though not-so-distant mountain scenery. “We could go there. Maybe.”

“There?” Marcus gestured toward the cardboard cutout. “I don’t even know if that’s a real place.”

“Has to be,” Addy reassured him. “Someone had to take a picture of it.”

“Right, right,” Marcus agreed. “But what if it's far away, like…in Indiana or something?”

“Do they have mountains in Indiana?”

“I…I don’t know,” Marcus admitted.

“We should look that up online,” Addy suggested. “On Alta-Vista or something. So what’s the deal with you?”

“Um…the deal with me?” Marcus frowned, pulling away from her a little. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why are you living in the back of Tori’s box truck? I’d say it’s because you have a crush on her, but the way she kissed you? She’d probably invite you into her bed at this point. So why the box truck?”

“Yeah, I think she kissed me out of reflex more than anything else,” Marcus reddened a little. “Um…I’m just having problems with my dad. Like, he’s not violent or anything, he just…yells a lot. I don’t think he’s a bad person, I just don’t want to be around it.”

“Yeah,” Addy agreed, pulling Marcus close again. “My mom…she yells a lot too. She didn’t always. She was there for us when she was younger but…now I’m the only one left. And she’s sick.”

“I’m sorry,” Marcus whispered. “Is she…I mean…is…”

“Is she going to die?” Addy finished the sentence for him. “Yeah, probably, but not soon enough.”

“What?” Marcus frowned, pulling back from her a little. “You want her to die?”

“That’s not what I said,” Addy’s lip curled a little and her tone did little to mask the exasperation she was feeling. It was a sentiment that she’d whispered to herself so many times, but to actually say it out loud? That was something new altogether. “I…she’s not the person I remember growing up. I feel like…that person is gone, and I feel like…she’s a burden on me. Everyone left and here I am taking care of her. It’s not fair.”

“So move out?” Marcus suggested.

“And go where?” Addy raised an eyebrow. “The best you can do is a box truck. Where the hell am I going to go? Refrigerator box? Landfill?”

“You’d be the best piece of trash in the landfill,” Marcus said, distracted by a passing family who glanced at them. A moment later, Marcus’s eyes widened, realizing what he’d just said. “Oh my god, I didn’t mean to-”

“We could get a place together,” Addy suggested suddenly, apparently missing Marcus’s unintentional insult.

“What?”

“Think about it,” Addy said excitedly. “I don’t make enough money to get my own apartment, and neither do you, but together we can make it work, right?”

“Um…” Marcus fumbled for words. “I didn’t really think about…I mean…yeah. Yeah! That could work! How much does it cost to move, though?”

“Probably four hundred for rent, maybe four hundred for a deposit,” Addy shrugged. “And whatever utilities are. How much do you make?”

“Well…” Marcus leaned into Addy, seemingly thinking. “Every month-”

“Wait,” Addy cut him off, frowning as she twisted her neck, looking toward the store’s exit. “What’s going on out there?”

They abandoned their ‘camp’ and made their way out toward the main concourse which was now buzzing with activity – far more than a Thursday night should have warranted. Addy’s eyes followed four paramedics as they bolted down the concourse and they joined a small crowd of onlookers following them and a few white-uniformed mall security officers. There were no shouts; the situation didn’t seem urgent, but a crowd was gathering near one of the concrete planters, next to a kiosk selling Ray-Ban sunglasses. The murmuring of the crowd grew louder; Addy and Marcus pushed their way through, standing on tip-toes, trying to see over the shoulders of much taller mall-goers.

“Excuse me,” Addy said, her voice gaining more and more urgency with each passing moment. She was acutely aware of Marcus’s hand on her shoulder, half-heartedly attempting to hold her back, even as she breached the front line of shoppers and gasped.

“Oh my god!”

---

“I…I can’t believe this happened,” Addy said, nearly stunned into silence as the ambulance pulled away. They had moved from the concourse and were now standing outside the bank of double doors, beneath the night sky and the overly-bright street lamps that surrounded the Upper Valley Mall. The crowd had dispersed; the people returned to their shopping, eating, and idle conversations, though most were making their way out toward the parking lot. It was, after all, a Thursday night.

“Well he was old,” Marcus shrugged, taking a seat next to Addy on a metal bench adjacent to the entrance. “I mean…”

“People don’t just die,” Addie argued. “He was fine the last time we saw him!”

“I…we didn’t even really know him,” Marcus shook his head. “I’m sorry but…”

“Who cares?” Addy demanded. “He helped us! We wouldn’t have such a good relationship without him! Think about what we have, right now!”

“I um…we talked to him like three times,” Marcus frowned. “He was just…some old guy in the mall, I mean…”

Addy pulled herself loose of Marcus’s arm and rose from the bench, glaring at him.

“He helped us!” Addy sneered. “He was like a father to me!”

“F…Father?! You met him today!” Marcus stood up, mouth agape. “He didn’t even like us!”

“Seriously?!” Addy nearly shouted back. “You seriously want to talk about him like that?”

“He was probably just some homeless bum!”

“You’re a homeless bum!” Addy spat. “And his name was Malcolm! Malcom!”

“Yeah, I don’t care,” Marcus shook his head. “Look I’m sorry you’re upset, but-”

“Oh, you’re sorry?” Addy curled her lip again, her face twisted in an expression that encompassed both hurt and rage. “You know what? You don’t know what sorry is yet!”

Reaching into her purse, Addy retrieved the mini-CD that Marcus had given to her early in the evening. With a flick of her wrist, she chucked it at him.

“You can have your stupid mix-tape back!” She snapped. “I don’t want shit from you!”

“Okay, look, Addy,” Marcus’ eyes flicked to the ground, watching the mini-disc roll across the sidewalk. “There…isn’t…you’re making a huge deal out of this and it’s-”

“You know what?” She said, suddenly. “At least I’m dealing with my mom. At least I didn’t move into my lover’s box truck!”

“She’s not my lover!” Marcus shot back.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Addy growled. “That kiss looked pretty serious!”

“Addy, for the last time: I didn’t ask her to kiss me! God, you know what? I don’t even want to move in with you now!”

“Good!” Addy screamed, stomping her foot and waving her hands. “I wouldn’t move in with a psychopath like you anyway!”

“Oh, I’m the psychopath?!” Marcus screamed, unaware that he was drawing a crowd. “I’m not the one out here moping around over some old fart that dropped dead!”

“That’s it!” Addy shrieked. “Get the hell away from me!”

Addy turned on her heel and stormed off, toward the door of the mall, leaving Marcus to wonder where the hell he’d gone wrong.

---

“I can’t believe you told her,” Rylee glared at Ariel who looked back at her with a soft expression. “That was-”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not, Rylee,” Ariel shook her head, cutting Rylee off before she could finish the sentence. “You do not put that on me and expect me to keep it in!”

“I did!” Rylee reminded her. Her voice was strained, and her cheeks were red from the tears that had long since faded. “I never told anyone until you!”

“Yeah, well good for you for being stronger than me,” Ariel snapped angrily. “But I can’t keep that a secret, especially when it happened to someone I love!”

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have fucking told!” Rylee stood from the table, knocking her chair over and stumbling backward. She turned uncertainly toward the front door and then seemed to make a decision. She stormed off, away from the kitchen, past the couch, and toward the front door. Any and all intentions she might have had, however, were quelled when the knob turned, but the door wouldn’t budge.

“Sit down, Rylee,” Anette’s voice carried a commanding tone that caused Rylee to stop in her tracks, hand still on the knob. “Come back to the table, and sit. Stop yelling at your sister, she’s not in the wrong.”

“She is!” Rylee’s voice cracked. “I told her a secret and she blabbed!”

“Yeah…” Tori’s voice trailed off for a moment, and her expression turned thoughtful. “Okay, Rylee, let me explain to you what’s going to happen. You ready for this? First thing in the morning, Mom and I are going to go down to the courthouse and file for emergency guardianship. We can do that, see, all those therapy sessions you’ve been going to? It kind of sets up a pattern. You’re not mentally competent. That’s not your fault, but it’s the truth, nonetheless. They’ll have you in front of a judge within a week, and you’re going to agree, because if you don’t, they’ll just lock you up.”

“Oh, you mean like you did?!” Rylee demanded, gesturing toward the locked door behind her.

“Oh shut the fuck up,” Tori snapped angrily. “You know why we did that.”

“Tori, calm down,” Anette instructed. “Rylee, come here.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Tori glared to her mother, then at Rylee. “I am tired of the secrets, and the lies, and you thinking I can’t handle shit!”

“I couldn’t handle it!” Rylee screamed, stomping her foot; tears sprang forth from her eyes once again. “I didn’t want to say it! I don’t like thinking about it because it hurts! Okay? Okay? I can hear them yelling! I can hear…the locks closing? Okay? I…I didn’t want to do any of it but they made me, and it makes me feel dirty. I don’t want to remember that!”

“Rylee…” Ariel regarded her with tears streaming from the corners of her eyes.

“No! Shut up!” Rylee shouted. “You don’t get it! You can’t! You won’t! I want to be the person I was before all this! He was a boy but at least he didn’t feel…helpless! That’s what I am! Anyone can take me and do anything with me! I can’t stop them, you can’t stop them! I’m just a fucking toy!”

“Rylee,” Anette said, her voice low. “You are not a toy. They took your confidence, and they took your power, but now that we know what happened, we can start on the path to getting it back. You’re going to go to a support group, we’re going to talk to your therapist. If you didn’t tell her this, we’re going to. You want be confident again? You want to stop feeling helpless? Then it starts now, it starts today. You ready for it, Rylee?”

“I…” Rylee stumbled forward, away from the door. She looked at the three of them. Two sisters, her mother, all standing beside the table, watching her intently. Her eyes burned, her body shook. She felt more raw, more exposed than she had since the day they’d sat her down in this living room and laid bare everything they knew about her. Since her trans identity had been unmasked, since Anette had presented her with that thick folder of confidential information from her old social worker. That woman Lucille who had been too nosy for her own good. Her vision began to blur; an echo from the past sifted through her stray thoughts as she recalled Anette’s voice from a month ago:

“Rylee, that I will not allow you to leave. You’re in an at-risk demographic and you’re suffering from an Axis Three mental illness. You won’t make it on your own, not yet anyway. If you try to run, you’ll be stopped. If you fight back, you’ll be restrained. No one is angry with you, you’re not in trouble, but steps will be taken to ensure your welfare.”

And then another voice, creeping into her consciousness, a voice that she hadn’t heard in some time. Ryan. Her male self. Back from the dead.

“You’re no one. You’re nothing except what they tell you. They just want to control you,” Ryan sneered. He was standing there, on the other side of the couch, a satisfied grin on his face. Rylee clenched her jaw, shaking her head. “You’re a pussy. You keep letting them do whatever they want to you.”

“No!” Rylee shrieked, swinging her arms; her hand connected with a ceramic vase on a wooden table near the entryway. The vase toppled, thudding against the carpet. “No, no no! Leave me alone!”

“Rylee!” Ariel stepped forward, staring at her with a laser focus. “He can’t hurt you anymore. They can’t hurt you anymore. You. Are. Not. Alone. Not anymore, little sister.”

“She’s full of shit. She couldn’t help us back then, she can’t help us now.”

“Shut up,” Rylee said to the apparition of her male self. “Shut up!”

“Rylee,” Ariel stepped closer. “You don’t have to be afraid. We’re going to help you.”

“Yeah, she really helped us before,” The apparition said, voice positively dripping with sarcasm. “What did she do? Put you in a dress? Give you some stupid makeup lessons? Then what happened?”

“Shut up,” Rylee said again, her fists clenched, knuckles white as Ariel stood at a safe distance; she turned her head, looking toward the end of the couch where Rylee’s line of sight was focused. “You don’t know anything!”

“I know better than anyone,” The apparition laughed. “I’m you. You’re me. I’ve been there for all of it. You know what the dumb, stupid truth is? You let them do all that to us. You trusted them, you let them lead you to that cell, you let them lock you up. And then you helped them punish the others, because you’re a scared little pussy.”

“I…didn’t want to,” Rylee sobbed. “I didn’t…”

“Pussy!”

“No!” Rylee screamed, her voice nearly shrill enough to shatter the living room windows.

“Rylee,” Tori said softly. “I know almost everything about you. I’ve seen you, inside and out. I’ve seen more of you than those deadbeat parents of yours ever saw, and I can say, with confidence, that you’re broken, but you can be fixed. Not because I want you to be fixed, not because mom wants it, or Ariel wants it. Because you want it, because you deserve it. You deserve to be a whole person Rylee, not just the shell they made you. Are you with us, Rylee? Will you let us help you?”

For a long, agonizing moment, Rylee could near nothing but the sound of her ragged breathing, a rattling in her chest, air forced out between her teeth, past her lips. Someone was crying, sobbing. Was it her? She couldn’t tell. Why had Ariel told them? They already knew too much about her, now they knew she was…whatever this was. They knew. They knew! She looked from Ariel, to Tori, and then Anette standing just behind Tori. They watched her with those same, loving eyes, as always. Nothing had changed, right?

She couldn’t bring herself to say it, she couldn’t just ask for help. When she looked at herself in the mirror she couldn’t see him anymore; she saw the girl, Rylee, but just beneath the surface she could feel him writhing, boiling, desperate to escape. He was supposed to be able to handle it. He was the strong one.

Suck it up, Father had always told him. Be a man.

A man wouldn’t have let this happen. A man would have stood up for himself. A man would have killed them, before they could…before…

“Rylee,” Tori was in front of her now, holding her hands, looking into her eyes. Rylee looked back into those soft, blue eyes. The red locks of hair framing her face, soft, creamy skin, red freckles.

Rylee could feel her body shaking, her breathing accelerating with every passing moment. She could hear Tori telling her to breathe along with her, to match her breathing even as she dropped to her knees and very nearly rolled onto her side. Tori kept her upright.

“We probably should have been a little gentler with it,” Anette’s voice was a faint echo; Rylee’s vision began to swim as she coughed and choked on her own saliva.

“Rylee,” Tori said again, this time releasing her right hand and bringing a hand up to her cheek. Their eyes met, just briefly before Rylee looked away, clenching her jaw and choking again. “Stay with me, Rylee.”

Rylee pulled away slowly, dropping onto her backside and bringing her knees up to her chest with Tori just slightly above her. She looked up, eyes burning and face nearly rubbed raw. Her lips parted and after a few ragged breaths, she managed to speak.

“Everything is always almost fine,” She said, biting her lower lip and letting out a low whimper. “I just want everything to be fine. I don’t want to remember things. I just want to be here with you. Why do we have to talk about that stuff?”

“Because it’s a part of you, Rylee!” Tori lurched forward, placing both hands on Rylee’s shoulder, staring into her eyes again and speaking with intensity. “Because if you try to bury it, it’s just going to come back again, and again, and again! Because we can’t make you whole until we have every single piece of you! This is a piece, Rylee, what happened to you there is an important piece! Everything is important, Rylee!”

“Rylee, honey,” Anette took a step forward and then maneuvered around until she was beside them, looking down. “You’re exhausted. We’re going to have you clean up and get ready for bed, or at least wind down for the night. We can deal with all of this later.”

“How much later?” Rylee sniffed.

“Soon, actually,” Anette told her. “You’ll go to school tomorrow and when you get back we’ll discuss options.”

“Options?” Rylee frowned, dropping her legs and sprawling them out on the floor in front of Tori.

“We’ll talk to your therapist, first of all,” Anette said, clearly doing her best to keep her voice even. “She needs to know what she’s actually dealing with. Guardianship is happening, no question.”

Rylee looked up at Anette, then over to Ariel who stood with her arms crossed and mouth nearly agape. She looked at Rylee’s questioning, pleading expression and shook her head, narrowing her eyes.

“I’m not going to help you, Rylee,” Ariel lectured. “You’re not in trouble because of what happened, I just get what they’re saying. Stop. Hiding. Stuff. From. Them. They’re trying to help.”

“We all need to take a step back,” Anette decided. “Not physically, I mean we need to examine why we’re mad. Rylee, no one here, and I mean no one is mad at you-”

“I’m a little mad at her for keeping so many secrets,” Tori pointed out. Anette closed her eyes and shook her head slightly, almost imperceptibly before opening them again and continuing.

“What you told your sister is huge, Rylee,” Anette proceeded. “I suspected something like it, but what you told Ariel is…it’s angering. I’m angry that it even happened, and I’m not going to let it go. Now, we need to move on for tonight. Rylee, you’re going to get cleaned up, and you’re going to head to bed. Tomorrow’s a brand new day.”

Through some unspoken agreement, Tori and Ariel engaged in a game of paper, rock, scissors in which Ariel lost with her rock to Tori’s paper. Ariel nodded and took Rylee gently by the arm, leading her back toward the bathroom.

---

It was 9 o’clock at night; the traffic in the mall wasn’t as vibrant as it had been in the earlier hours of the evening, but it also didn’t seem to be dying down. The throngs of teenagers had been replaced by more reserved adult couples, and the ambient music seemed to have changed to match.

Marcus spotted her easily, seated between two other girls that he didn’t recognize and for a moment, he was apprehensive about approaching the concrete bench just beside the ‘Elder-Beerman’ entrance. She didn’t glare at him as he approached, but he seemed to have caught the attention of the two other girls flanking her. One of them, a cherry blonde with a round face looked up at him, and then whispered something to Addy who nodded. Both girls tensed, and then glared in his direction as he approached.

“What do you want?” The cherry blonde demanded, catching Marcus a little off guard.

“Um…” Marcus straightened the folds of his new leather jacket and then looked to Addy. “I…was hoping we could talk.”

“Talk?” Addy demanded. “I was under the impression you already said what you wanted to say.”
“I’m sorry,” Marcus said quickly. “I was insensitive. I…should have thought about your feelings. I’m dumb like that sometimes, you know?”

“Dumb?” The cherry blonde girl snapped, standing up and pushing a thin index finger against Marcus’s chest. “Her dad died and you didn’t care!”

“Dad? Malcom wasn’t her-” Marcus stopped as he intercepted a glare from Addy; he pursed his lips and nodded. “Addy, look, I…I know I was stupid, I just want to talk, okay? Can we talk?”

“About what?” The blue-haired girl beside her demanded. “Haven’t you done enough damage?”

Marcus looked to Addy questioning; her expression softened and she rolled her shoulders forward, speaking as she stood.

“Marcus, these are my friends, Skylar and Corrinne.”

“Friends?” Marcus frowned.

“Are you deaf?” The redhead, apparently Corinne asked, snarling.

“I didn’t know you had friends, I mean, I’ve never seen them,” Marcus frowned again. “I mean, you can have friends, obviously, it’s just…”

“We just met tonight,” Skylar explained, standing up to wrap an arm around Addy. “But I feel like we’ve known eachother all along.”

“Is that a new coat?” Addy asked, eyeing Marcus’s latest purchase.

“Uh…yeah,” Marcus said, feeling a little embarrassed. “I just…wanted to try something different.”

“Typical,” Addy rolled her eyes. “blowing money you don’t have.”

“Addy I…I missed you,” Marcus admitted. “When we went camping I…really felt something with you; something I haven’t felt with anyone else. When I agreed to this date, um…I didn’t really take it seriously, and that’s my fault, okay? I just…I wanted to go out and do something but I didn’t think we’d work out. But that’s just not how it ended up. I feel things for you, and I want to feel those things again, and again, and again. Addy, can we try again?”

“You hurt me,” Addy told him, staring hard. “I was already hurting and you just…you were selfish.”

“I know,” Marcus said softly. “Believe me I know, but god, Addy, I don’t want to lose you! Can we fix this? Can we try to fix this?”

“I hope you die in the bottom of a swimming pool, creep,” Corinne snarled. Marcus’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Woah, Corinne!” Addy waved her hands. “That’s a little too far!”

“It wasn’t too far a minute ago,” Corinne shrugged. “You wanted him to fall into a wood chipper.”

“What?!” Marcus’s eyes went even wider; Addy reddened with embarrassment.

“Don’t listen to them,” Addy said quickly. “Okay look, I’ve had…a lot of time to think about it, and I think maybe with some time, and maybe…if we do some work, we could…maybe get back on track.”

“Can we still move in together?” Marcus asked, hopefully.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”