Page 105 of TJ Powar Has Something to Prove

“Who’s that?” Nate asks, following her gaze. Liam retrieves a soccer ball from the storage room, and the two of them disappear out the door again.

“No one.” She pauses. “My ex-boyfriend.”

“Damn. That’s Liam? What, you were too much of a diva for him?”

He’s joking, of course, but it strikes a little too close to home. “No. I was just too hairy.” The silence following those words makes her awkward. “Anyway, I—”

“I know what it feels like,” Nate interrupts. “To walk into school one day and look totally different. You’re the same person, but some people just can’t see that.”

TJ looks at him sharply, surprised he would bring up his transition last year. That was huge for him. In comparison... “What I did is nothing—”

He waves her down. “This isn’t the Oppression Olympics, okay? Let’s just agree the concept of gender is fragile as hell. People had a meltdown as soon as I put on a binder, you stopped waxing, and Charlie showed up to school with exactly one hairless leg. Isn’t that sad?”

TJ grins. Charlie had never mentioned reactions to his look, but he must’ve been delighted to scandalize people. “Very.”

He nods. “They’re so disturbed they just can’t help but comment on what you’re doing with your own body. Or what you plan to do, someday, down the road.”

There’s a softer, more vulnerable edge to his voice, and she gets the sense he’s been judged too many times by too many people he cares about.

“People should mind their own business,” she says firmly. “You shouldn’t have to stay the way you are, any more than I should have to change.”

She doesn’t realize how tense he’s become until it clears. Grinning, he leans back, held upright only by his grasp on the railing. “Man, I think that’s the most intelligent thing you’ve ever said.”

She rolls her eyes. “Thanks. I just wish I didn’t have to put myself through so much to realize it.”

“It’s worth it in the end. Because you figure out who your real friends are.”

He looks at her and looks at her until she finally grasps his meaning.

“Wait. Are you saying... we’re friends?”

“I would never say something that absurd,” Nate says with a wink. “So, what’s next? Excited to graduate in an unnecessarilylong ceremony? Got your prom outfit picked out?”

“I’m not going to prom. I don’t have a date, remember?” She makes a face. At the beginning of the year she thought she’d go with Liam, but—

“Wait,” she says again. “How did you know Liam’s name?”

Nate looks stricken for a moment but recovers quickly. “You mentioned him. And by the way, you know you can go to prom solo, right?”

But TJ won’t be deterred from her line of questioning so easily. “I never mentioned Liam at any debate.” She knows that for sure. Before this year, she’d put great effort into separating her debate life from her social life. “So how do you know?”

Nate makes a face but relents. “Charlie might have mentioned him.”

TJ’s brow furrows. She’d only said Liam’s name to Charlie once. In her bungled-up explanation about why she’d kissed Charlie during Spring Break. But... “Why would he mention that?”

Nate’s eyes dart away and then back. “It’s not that deep. It’s just, I sensed some tension between you two at Nationals”—TJ cringes, remembering the hike—“so I asked Charlie if it was true you two had a thing during Spring Break. He said no and that he was, um, helping you deal with an ex-boyfriend. This Liam guy.”

“Oh,” TJ says. “Yeah.” That’s a neat little explanation Charlie came up with. It’s technically the truth, but implies the reason for their kiss was less that TJ was desperate and more like Liam was.

But something about it niggles at her. She frowns.

Nate notices. “You okay?”

She nods distractedly. The whistle blows, calling Nate back to his match. “Yeah. Good luck.”

Nate gives her another indecipherable look before leaving. She leans against the railing, no longer paying attention to the game in front of her.

Charlie thought... What did he think?