Ford and Shannon bounded in on a storm of laughter, accompanied by a strong waft of weed. Marty hadn’t seen either of them earlier and had just assumed they’d gone to breakfast. Maybe not.

Shannon halted abruptly and cocked her head as if discovering something strange in her path. Weirdly, Ford looked chagrined.

“Oh, look who it is,” Shannon said in that tone of voice that could be construed in any number of ways, from mocking to just trying to be friendly, “it’s…oh, who is it today? Would it be Martha? Or Martin?”

“Come on, Shannon,” Ford muttered.

Shannon shot her a look, her red eyebrow perfectly arched as if to say What? Did I say something wrong? She smiled, and it wasn’t a smile Marty could possibly misinterpret. They’d never really known before what the phrase cruel smile referred to, but they recognized it now. Disdainful and angry, for some reason. Which was weird too, because they didn’t even know these girls.

“So?” Shannon said, her gaze swinging hard to Marty. “What are you feeling today? A little bit boy or a bit more girl? Because, you know, I don’t want to misname you, or whatever.”

“Marty’s fine anytime.” Marty headed toward the door, swinging wide of the pair who stood just inside. For just an instant, they thought Shannon might sidestep and block their way. That was new—until now, name-calling and snide remarks were the worst Marty’d had to deal with. But they knew enough to be wary of possible physical encounters. They slowed, their heart racing. Everyone else was probably already down at the lodge, a good quarter of a mile away.

“I have to get my things,” Ford said, crossing between Shannon and Marty, as if interrupting the line of fire. “Come on, Shannon. You haven’t even started to pack.”

“Like I care about some stupid hike,” Shannon snapped, but she stomped over to her own bunk and out of Marty’s way.

Marty hesitated, watching as Ford swept a number of loose items lying on her bed into a backpack. Ford didn’t take the EpiPen but seemed to intentionally push it aside.

“I’m good,” Ford said, straightening. “You ready, Shann?”

“I suppose,” Shannon said scornfully. “Like, there’s no way out of it, is there?”

The two of them turned in unison and walked past Marty as if they’d suddenly become invisible, another familiar occurrence. They had no idea why Shannon didn’t like them. Well, they knew why Shannon didn’t like them, but not the reason beneath the dislike. From the minute they’d introduced themself and said their pronouns, Shannon had had issues. The why didn’t really have anything to do with them. But there it was. When Marty was alone with just Ford and Shannon, or Shannon solo, Shannon’s comments were even nastier. Marty sighed.

Not like they hadn’t heard it all before, and sometimes worse. They glanced back at their bunk to make sure they had everything and then, for some reason, back at Ford’s, the bottom bunk across from theirs. They picked up Ford’s EpiPen, slid it into their back pocket, and walked out the door.