Walking out the door, a hand grabbed me. Her again. She was afraid. She needed someone to take her home. I felt mingled pity and disgust.Pity won. We ...ade our way down Eighty-fourth Street under the harsh orange glare of sodium arc streetlamps. Where did she live? Some town on the Island. Long Island. Where the rich folks lived. What the hell had I gotten myself into?She wasn't a bad looking broad, maybe on the wrong side of forty by a couple of years and a bit the worse for wear... but pretty. Cat's asleep but I am not taking chances, I grab myclothes and put them in my bathroom to hang while I shower. I know she'syoung but she is talking more so if she sees that I am not like her ormom but more like her brother, "down there" she could say somethingleading to a lot of awkwardness that we don't need.Most of Winnisimmet knows I'm trans but it is still awkward and thereare a lot of bigots out there who could harm me or us. They'd claim I'mmolesting her or worse. I can't chance it.I. More

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