“Yay! We’re gonna have so much fun! Cameron is coming for sure!” Cameron is Emily’s latest crush in a row of crushes that just goes on and on like a river that keeps on flowing. Emily loves boys, and they love her, and I love that for her. I’m envious, too, because although Emily has had her heart broken again and again, it’s still easy for her because she doesn’t have to hide who she is. She can just be a girl who has crushes on boys, and no one bats an eye at that. And I don’t mean that in a condescending kind of way because I don’t think any teenager’s life is ever easy… Emily has her own shit to deal with, like going to the hospital for her yearly check-ups, which always leave her an emotional mess.
“You okay going, Kait?” Emily sobers next to me and brushes my curls out of my eyes. As always, the fondly spoken Kait tears me apart inside. I don’t know why I haven’t told Emily yet that I’m not Kait but K.
“Of course.” I force a smile onto my face, then hold up my hands in thedevil hornssign while I shake my hair into place. “You know me, Em. Dying to party. Rock ‘n’ roll, baby.”
She laughs at that, and her face is once again bright and carefree. “Right. You’ll just sneak off to a corner somewhere and secretly judge people’s outfits.”
I gasp in mock horror, clutching my chest. “I would never!”
“Liar.” She narrows her eyes at me. “I see you, Kaitlyn Somner. I see right through you.” Only she doesn’t. Not really. It’s not that I don’t trust Emily. It’s just… I don’t feel like burdening her with it, because I know it would be a burden, even if she probably wouldn’t see it that way. I know she’d never turn her back on me or think any less of me. Emily’s not like that. But what if she accidentally misspoke in front of people at school? That would just devastate her, and I don’t ever want Emily to be devastated. I’d rather bear the sadness I feel whenever she calls me Kait, because it won’t be forever. There’s an expiration date now to my birth name. I’ll be eighteen soon, and then I’ll start transitioning. In the fall, Emily and I start college in Boston, and a new chapter of my life starts, not as Kaitlyn but as Kayden. I can’t wait to share that part of myself with Emily. She’s asked me a couple of times since we started high school if there’s something going on with me; maybe she even suspects something, I don’t know. I always tell her it’s nothing, and she doesn’t push.
So for tonight, I’ll just be Kaitlyn Somner, the star of the high jump team at Barnacle Cove High, and loyal bestie. I’ll hold it all in and smile at the world like I always do. I’ll accept all theircongratulationsandwell-doneswhile I find a quiet corner where I can watch my peers enjoying a few hours of dancing, drinking, and crushing on their latest infatuation. I’ll count down the months, weeks, and days until I can be me, like really, truly me. Until I can be not justKbut also what that beautiful, promise-filled letter stands for.Kayden.I might not have the body I want yet, or the voice to go with it, but I have the name,my true name, and that keeps me going. The promise of Kayden keeps me going.
Chapter Two
Caleb
Now
“Honestly, Stace, I don’t know what you want from me.” I do. I know very well what my kind-of girlfriend of the past three months wants. She wants what they’ve all wanted over the years and what I can’t give her.
Stacey holds out her hands in defeat. I think she knows as well as I do that we’ve reached the famous end of the line. I’ve got nothing more to give her, and she knows it. “I wantyou, Caleb. I want…more with you.” She dips her head to her pristine white sneakers, and her blonde hair falls like waves around her shoulders. Stacey is gorgeous by anyone’s standard. She’s the girl-next-door who’s grown into an attractive, accomplished, and compassionate woman. She’s everything I should want, but I don’t. Not like that. Not in a white-picket fence, Sunday apple pie, and driving-our-kids-off-to-college-one-day kind of way. I’ve never wanted it, and it’s safe to say I never will.
“More?” I kick atMarilyn’sflat tire. Today’s a bust whichever way you choose to look at it. Stacey is breaking up with me, and my usual Saturday ride down the coast has turned into a day cooped up in my empty house. Spare tires for a Fastback aren’t easy to come by. I’ll have to order one, and then it’ll take at least—
“Caleb! Are you even listening to me?” Stace plants her hands on her hips and narrows her blue eyes on me. They’re pretty, but not the prettiest blue I’ve ever seen. No, the prettiest blue eyes belong tohim, to Kayden. They’re bluer than the wide September sky when there’s a bite in the air and the endless ocean when a storm has passed.
“Sorry, Stace. I’m listening.” I card my hand through my hair, which has gotten way too long around the ears and in the back for my liking. I also found a couple of grays this morning when I brushed my teeth, and Stacey was humming along to some pop song in the kitchen.It’s okay, though. Sal has way more grays than me, and as long as he does, it’s okay. ‘What do you mean, more?’
I offer her my crooked smile that usually does the trick, or at least, it did in the beginning when it was all just fun and games and no strings attached.
Stacey sighs, worrying her bottom lip. It’s nice and plump, and I fucking love the way it vibrates against my skin when she goes down on me. I’ll miss that: Stacey going down on me on the kitchen floor or in the den or wherever.
“Like I know there’s a plan. With us. That we’re going somewhere.”Right.
I decide to venture into dangerous waters because sometimes you just need to grab the bull by the horns. Not that Stacey is a bull. She’s more of a deer with those slender legs that go on for miles and miles. “You mean living together, kids, the whole fucking layered cake?”
Stacey blushes, then looks up at me through her long eyelashes.
“Yes,” she whispers, and I nod, because I already knew she wanted that. Why wouldn’t she? Stacey is thirty-six, four years younger than me. The clock is ticking, and she’s the whole package, so why wouldn’t she want the whole damn cake, too? “Is that so wrong?” Fuck my life.
I rub at my forehead, recognizing that familiar throbbing sensation when a headache is building. “No, Stace. That’s not wrong. Not at all.” I hold out my hand, but she takes a step back toward the house. I donotwant to do this outside where all my nosy-ass neighbors can witness yet another failed relationship of mine, but it looks like today’s the day. “But that’s not me. Jesus, Stace, I told you going in that it’s not me. It’ll never be me…”
Her eyes widen, a pleading edge to her voice when she speaks, “But I thought—”
“What? That I’d change my mind?” I don’t like the edge of annoyance in my voice, but I hate feeling cornered like this. I’m too old for this shit. Why the hell do I keep putting myself in situations like these? Grow the fuck up, Caleb Morgan.
My phone buzzes in my jeans pocket, and it’s probably Sal. He’s been texting me all morning about some delayed plywood shipment. Several projects of ours have stalled, and yesterday we sent most of our twenty employees home because there was nothing for them to do.
“Yes,” Stacey mutters. “We’re really good together, so Ididthink that. Is that really so unreasonable, Caleb?”
“No.” I shake my head as I continue to rub at my forehead, the throbbing sensation intensifying every second. “It’s not. But Stace, I’m not gonna change my mind.Ever.” It’s time to tear off the Band-Aid inone go. “Not for you. Not for anyone. I don’t believe in all that. Marriage, kids, the whole shebang. I don’t want it. I told you, Stace.”
It’s a low blow, because if there’s something that human beings are known for, it’s holding out hope even when there’s none left. And even though I’ve played an open hand from the very beginning, there was always, at least in Stacey’s mind, the minuscule possibility that she was the exception. Only she isn’t. There is no exception to my rule.
“Okay. I guess this is it then?” Stacey wipes her eyes, and this is the hard part, because as much as I’m an asshole, I’m also a people pleaser. I know myself well enough that I need to get Stacey out of here before I blurt something ridiculous like, ‘You don’t have to go right now,’ and before I know it, we’re fucking in the garage or something. It’s not that far-fetched, and it has happened before. Not with Stacey, but with some other poor guy or girl. It always gives people hope, because if you can fuck them, then why not marry them too?
“I guess so. It’s for the best, Stace.”