“Sure, Ty. And yes, I think I’m sure.”

“You think?”

She smiles and shakes her head. “I know.”

“Tucson wasn’t great for you.”

“Seafare wasn’t great for you, yet it’s still your home.”

“I guess.”

She takes my hand in hers. “Ty, it’s not always as hard as you’re making it out to be. It wasn’t this place that was awful for me growing up. It was certain people. People who should have never been parents of any kind, fosters or not. Health professionals who had no business dealing with a terrified bigendered kid who thought he was going crazy for waking up some mornings thinking he was a woman. Tucson did none of that to me. It was the people. And I want to make sure that never happens to another scared kid ever again. That’s why I got my bachelor’s in social work. That’s why I want to work here. And I can continue on for my master’s at the U of A.”

“Kids need help everywhere,” I say, though I know my argument is born out of selfishness.

She squeezes my hand. “I know. But this is where I’m from. I’ve got good people around me now. My story isn’t in New Hampshire. Or Seafare, like yours is. I think maybe my story is here. And I want to see how it unfolds.”

“You’re scared, though.”

“Yeah. A little.” She sighs. “Maybe a lot. How’d you know?”

“You’ve been girl-Kori more than boy-Corey lately. She comes out more when you’re nervous or worried. Or scared.”

“She makes me feel safe,” she says.

“And that’s how you make me feel,” I tell her.

“Yet, you still couldn’t breathe.”

“That’s not you,” I say quickly. “That’s… that’s a whole host of other things. My mother, my life, my disorder. Take your pick. I’m kind of messed up in the head.”

“Ty? When was the last time you had an attack? Like full-blown attack you had when we first got to Seafare?”

“Only like… huh. I don’t really know.” How weird is that? There have been times it was close, but has it been weeks? Has it really?

“That should tell you something right there.”

“Like what?”

She shakes her head. “For your sake, I hope you figure it out.”

“This sucks,” I mumble.

“What?”

“That I’m sad in skinny jeans. It’s the worst.”

She laughs and pulls me to a stop. She hugs me tightly, and she smells so good and feels so familiar that I have to swallow past the lump in my throat. “This won’t be good-bye,” she says in my ear. “This will never be good-bye. You’re stuck with me for life, Ty. Whether you realize it or not, there’s something about you that pulls people in and makes them never want to leave. Trust me when I say this is as hard on me as it is you.”

“Maybe I can just stay with you,” I say. “Sandy wouldn’t mind me living there, too, right? I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t fail at that, at least.”