“He is not blessed with an overly positive reputation among the girls I know at school,” she says. “What do you mean?” The accent drops. “I mean he’s a frickin’ creeper! You never noticed?” “No?” “Yeah. There ain’t a skinny girl in our year he hasn’t made a pass at. Ain’t nothing wrong with flirting, but he don’t even shower first. He does nothing to pretty himself up, and then he’s always sulky when someone brushes him off. Maybe that kind of thing is hard to see when you’re a boy—” “I was never a boy,” I say, sharper than I intend to. “I mean, I was always a girl. But now people can see it.”
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