Free Radicals by Lila Riesen

Author:Lila Riesen [Riesen, Lila]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2023-03-21T00:00:00+00:00

35

On Tuesday, I’m the only customer at Fro-Yo Emporium. Brit’s been promoted to manager, and she’s sent her fifteen-year-old coworker home early. His mom came ten minutes ago.

I was hoping for more hubbub in here. More distractions.

My hands are sweaty and my keys spike me through my sweatpants. This Ghosting’s weapon of choice.

“I think he likes you,” says Brit, wiping the counter. I’ve told her about hanging with Jalen. I leave out the dad stuff.

Brit’s tone bears caution. Maybe it’s the think part. If she knew he liked me, she’d say: “He likes you.”

“And his middle name is Noah, isn’t that—”

“So hot, yes. You’ve told me four times already.”

“Sorry.” I’ve already updated his contact card to read Jalen Noah Thomas.

I text him. Doing anything fun over break? He texts back immediately. Throttle Therapy with Pops tmrw.

Jalen normally skips the half day before Thanksgiving break. It’s an unspoken movie day at school anyway.

I almost regurgitate Jalen’s dirt-biking plans to Brit till she says: “Just . . . be careful.”

“Why?” I’m already on my second cup of anxiety fro-yo. Did It’s poison find her ears? The ball of my foot bounces and I glance from the clock—8:23 p.m.—to the parking lot.

“The way he looks at you.”

“Huh?”

“Like . . . that one time you gave him gum and he hugged you, he looked straight at Raf.”

“So?”

“It was a weird look.”

I thought the hug felt a bit long, but I wasn’t complaining.

“You do study people, don’t you?”

She takes a gummy worm from the pile and rips it in half with her teeth. “Yes.” She smiles.

“So,” I say, crunching an M&M, “what about you?” I like the distraction of talking.

“As you know,” she says, “I liked Fallon.”

Oh yes. Fallon and his Black Star Canyon blunder.

“And before you say why, it’s like—ugh, I know. I guess I’m drawn to the wrong guys. But it’s also kinda . . . my fault.”

“You can’t be blaming yourself—”

She waves her hand like that’s not it. Takes in breath like she wants to speak. Stops. Then says, “You know, discrimination against the trans community is terrible, but no one talks about the—like—behind-closed-doors things. Like surgery costs or side effects of hormone therapy. I just—huh.” She laughs. “I have no sex drive, Mafi. None. Zilch. On the one hand, feminizing hormone therapy makes me feel amazing, like I’m not so disgusted by my body, but I miss my sexualness. I miss iiiiit. Sorry if that’s TMI.”

“Um, not TMI. And that’s a terrible side effect.” I don’t have that problem. Everything about Jalen, from the love in his voice when he talks about his dad, to his veiny arms, to his passion for ball, to that half smile . . . it gets me.

Kate’s voice sticks in the back of my head: Reputations stick. Don’t be Hook-Up Material.

“In sex ed,” Brit goes on, “when they talk about those pesky teenage hormones, I want to say—Please! For the love of god! Throw some my way! Anyway. I’ll take this over waking up every morning pre-transition in agony, never feeling like the real me.

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