Chapter 19

If you have never been pregnant, how are you supposed to know what it feels like? The main question was, was it possible? Yes, we had sex with Gabi when she still had male equipment, but her penis was trapped in a false vagina. She couldn't get an erection and she certainly didn't put it inside me.

Stepping outside the doors of the school I read a text from Shawn asking to meet at his house. Well, that was a little unusual but it’s not like I wasn’t dressed for the occasion. I’m always dressed for the occasion. I stood outside for a moment checking e-mails and finally, brought up the GAT tracker app that I’d gotten right after being promoted from pledge status last year. Our tracker app was a piece of custom software that we could use to track the GPS on eachother’s phones. A little invasive? Probably, but it came in handy a lot.

Sympathetic Magic

Mardi Gras isn’t my thing, but there I was, in New Orleans.

Because James asked.

Not too many people stuck with me when I came out as a trans man, stopped being Barbra and became Benjamin, but James did.

So when he asks for help, I come.

He’s hung out a shingle as a P.I., getting a rep as the guy for the forgotten people, the ones the police ignore.

Chapter 24

On arrival back at the hotel Adele suggested some tea and refreshments and they opted to take a quiet table on the veranda at the rear of the hotel that looked over the garden and was shaded in the afternoon.

The lunchroom was filled to the brim with people, lunch today was watery chili, stale bread, warm milk and something that looked like a brownie. A rumor was going around school that Mr. Henderson had been fired, it seemed his outburst this morning had ruffled a few feathers. I considered that a small victory. I was about to finish off my watery chili when much to my surprise Joan appeared and sat her tray down in front of me.

“Look at that, we did it!” Remy said happily, slapping what looked like a massive cup she’d sat on the kitchen table. “We hit them right where it hurts!”

I looked up from my phone and glanced over at the table. Was that a trophy or a soup bowl on steroids?

“You did…what?” I was almost afraid to ask.

“We got Pi Lambda Sigma’s Greek Week trophy! Now we just have to figure out what we’re going to do with it!” Laura beamed.

“You…broke into their house and took their trophy?” I sort of gaped over at the table. What was even happening here?

Charles is happy in his own space until he is drawn out into the open

Charles was just about resisting the temptation to go on YouTube. He’d been pounding spreadsheets since early in the morning and needed a break. The upside was that he was working from home and avoiding the A38(M) and M6 traffic jam. He intended to take a break soon and get some housework done, as a single man he only had himself to look after but he liked an orderly house.

The phone was ringing and Henry put it on speaker as he answered it. "Department Fifty Four, Karen Long speaking, may I help you?"

Boy, was he good. Karen thought he sounded just like her.

"Karen, this is Bill Chambers secretary. Mr. Chambers wants you in his office immediately. Do you understand?"

Henry hesitated as he contemplated telling her, no, he didn't understand. For a fact, he was tempted, except he was sure it would cause trouble for Karen.

Karen picked up the phone. "Yes Betty, I understand."

Webster’s dictionary defines Speed as the fallowing: the rate of change of position along a straight line with respect to time over a set distance. In other words, the quicker you can get from one place to another. The question is what do you, do when your family has spent the last two generations in search of ways to accomplish this goal faster and faster. Would do you do when the family business is the search for more Speed. For Robert ‘Robby’ McGuire the answer is easy. You grab your sister and strap on a pair of Formula One racecars then go for broke.

My schedule for the year had remained the same. And so, according to that schedule as soon as I dropped the paper off at the office, I was to report to my first period class. That being “Natural Science”. And as expected Mr. Henderson stood there in the classroom waiting for me. He wore a different suit this time, instead of the fading gray suit, he wore a dark charcoal suit. What remained of his gray, thinning hair had been brushed over the best he could to hide the big bald spot. The lingering smell of Old Spice aftershave, tobacco and coffee hung around him like a blinding fog.