That is not their goal. I look over at Dee. Her face is rapt with attention. Some of the girls are quiet.

“Sorry, man,” says Aidan, and heads turn his way. He is slouched way down in his seat, like the act of sitting up is boring and exhausting. He shakes his head and says, “But how do you know that’s what girls want?”

Pablo smiles. He says, “No one wants to be assaulted. No one wants to be attacked. No one likes to do something they’re not comfortable doing. It’s universal. Our bodies are our own. End of story.”

My body is still, blood pumping loudly in my ears. His hand was so strong and he so easily hurt me. In that squeeze he told me that he could take anything, that he could do worse. He leapt up the stairs and back to class like it was nothing.

Pablo continues, “But also—and with permission, Mr. Cavalier, I’m gonna go off script here for a minute, but it feels right.” Everyone sits up. And Pablo says, “I used to be a woman. And while that doesn’t mean I know what ‘girls want’ as you say, I do have the unique experience of being in both gendered worlds. I do have experience with being touched without my consent, and also experience with the entitlement—and, I’ll grant you, sometimes pressure—guys feel to ignore consent. My experiences have informed how I live my life, and what I do.” He opens his arms and stands with his feet wide, completely comfortable in his skin.

I see Breanne cover her mouth to keep a laugh inside, and I hate her.

“So—that’s the short story: I’m trans. I hear you folks learned what that means already.”

I can see Mr. Cavalier’s brain fizzling into a fine dust while the murmurs in the class rumble around like rocks going downhill. I think about Lottie, who is not in this class, and about Pete, who is probably teaching right now. Some students are snapping their fingers appreciatively and grinning; others are looking at each other like they’ve been the victims of a major heist. Pablo keeps talking, regaining control, and discussing safety and consent and our basic rights to enjoy sex. He takes questions, his voice wafts over me.

Safety.

I watch Aidan laughing and can almost feel his hand on my body, on my crotch, the unprovable, shameful shock of it. Maybe I’m making too big a deal of it. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. I feel my face getting hot like it does before I cry. I clench my teeth and hold it in, polishing it, turning it into anger. I let that burn more deeply. I like the anger. I want to start fresh, to get a new chance. I want to burn everything to the ground and emerge brand new: a strong, happy, funny, confident Phoenix.