“Okay.” Michelle nodded her head a little too vigorously, in the way that people do when they’re trying hard to be supportive.

And then they sat in a northern Maine silence for a while.

And then Justin said, “But I don’t think I’m a her, either.”

“Okay.” Michelle nodded her head a little too vigorously again. And didn’t say anything else and just looked at Justin and waited for him to elaborate. Which he eventually did.

“I thought I was. A her. When we were little. Because I felt like a girl. More than I felt like a boy. But then I started feeling like a boy, too, as I got older.”

“Okay.” Michelle nodded her head a little too vigorously again.

“And then I felt like both a him and a her for a while.”

“Okay.” Michelle nodded her head a little too vigorously again.

“And I thought that I couldn’t be both. And that I was gonna have to … pick. One or the other.”

“Okay.” Michelle nodded her head, but a little less vigorously.

“But then,” Justin continued, “I figured out that I didn’t have to pick. I could just be what I am. I could just be”—Justin looked at his body and then finished his sentence—“this.” And then he looked over at Michelle and said, “So … I’m just gonna be”—Justin looked at his body again and repeated—“this.”

And then he looked over at Michelle again.

“Okay,” said Michelle, nodding her head, less vigorously still.

“Whatever ‘this’”—Justin looked at his body again—“is.”

“Okay.” Michelle wasn’t nodding her head anymore. And she grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

“And I’ve always known. Deep down. I always knew something was different … but I tried not to know—I didn’t want to know—but I knew I was gonna need to figure it out. But I felt like I wasn’t going to be able to really figure it out till I left.”

Northern Maine can be a hard place to figure out things like what Justin had been trying to figure out.

And Justin thought it would be an easier thing to figure out in Portland. And it was—a tiny bit easier. A tiny enough bit that he was able to figure it out.

Michelle suddenly leaned across the front seat of her LeSabre and hugged Justin as well as you can hug someone who’s sitting next to you in a car.

And that’s when Justin cried.

And Michelle had never seen him cry.

Not when his dad kicked him out.

Not when he got beat up at school.

He hadn’t even cried when he found out his uncle Clair had died.

But he was crying now.

Because Michelle had been kind to him. And he desperately needed kindness.

Michelle held Justin while he cried. And Justin held Michelle.

And it wasn’t long before he was cried out.

And he pulled away from Michelle.

And Michelle moved herself back to over to the side of the car. And then leaned back and let herself slouch down in her seat until her head was where her back usually was and her shins were up against the dashboard.