“I’m sorry,” I said before he could blast me. Before he could tell me how sorry he was he’d ever met me. How he decided I wasn’t worth the wait. “I’m sorry.” Why was I always apologizing? For me, for Luna, for everything wrong in the world.

The basement lights were out, which spooked me. Liam wouldn’t be in bed already. Chris reached over and took my hand. “It’s just family stuff,” I mumbled. “It’s not you.”

“Hey,” he said. “Family shit can wear you down.”

That was an understatement. I was suddenly angry. Here I was with this incredible guy who made me feel special and bought me dinner and took me to a movie and wanted to spend time with me and all I could think about was what my brother was doing, what he was thinking and feeling. How I shouldn’t have left him alone on his birthday, not tonight. Not the way he was acting. “There isn’t much time left,” he’d said.

“I’m a good listener.” Chris cocked his head and tried to engage my eyes. “You tell me your shit and I’ll tell you mine. My family’s so dysfunctional, I bet it beats yours any day.”

I snorted. “How big a bet can you make?”

His eyebrows arched. He wasn’t pressuring me, but I felt pressured. I wasn’t ready. “I have to go.” I had to get out — now.

Chris scrambled to open his door and catch up with me on my dash to the porch, to Liam. My eyes drifted to the sky in search of the moon, the stars. Nothing. No lights shone. An eternity of darkness. Chris touched my hand. If he tries to kiss me, I thought, I’ll burst into tears.

He didn’t. Only laced his fingers through mine and squeezed gently. “Call you tomorrow about next weekend?”

He still wanted to see me? He is a masochist, I thought. If I nodded, it was only because my head felt so heavy I couldn’t hold it up.

The first thing that struck me was the disassembly, the expansion of space. Objects had been moved, rearranged. Liam’s PCs were on, all four of them, blinking screensavers. Not skyscrapers this time. Numbers. A string of them, scrolling across the monitors. The coffee table where he usually kept his laptop had been cleared; in fact, the whole room looked like Supermom had swept through. Somebody else’s Supermom.

Liam — Luna — must’ve spent all evening cleaning. Cleaning. As in clearing out? Leaving this world?

I barged into his bedroom. He lay curled on the mattress, snoring. Still had on the skirt and sweater. The digital clock on his dresser glowed 9:02. I eased the door shut, breathing a sigh of relief.

Unfortunately Luna’s cleaning bug hadn’t extended to my room. It was a slum, as usual.

I dropped into a chasm. Deep and dark and jagged-edged. My body felt as if it’d been pushed off a cliff and hit every outcropping of rock on the way down. Bruised and beaten, so exhausted. I lay on my bed and closed my eyes.

Chapter 26

Flash!

My eyelids flew open and I shielded my eyes from the blinding light.

“Wake up, Re.” A hand touched my shoulder. “I need you to do me a favor.”

I squinted at the blurry figure looming over me. Luna. “What time is it?”

She checked her watch. “Four-thirty.”

“In the morning?” I dragged myself to a sitting position. The bleak night seeped in through my window. No moonlight still. Only the harsh glare from my overhead globe.

“I need you to come with me.” Luna handed me a stack of neatly folded clothes. My clothes, apparently for me to put on.

She was dressed to a T. Suit jacket, matching skirt, heels.

I yawned. “The mall doesn’t open for a few hours yet,” I grumbled.

She pulled back my comforter. “Hurry. We should leave in ten minutes.”

She left me alone to dress. When I emerged from my room, she was waiting for me by the stairs. “We’re going to have to sneak out. Dad’s been up watching TV all night.”

“I know,” I said. We’d evil-eyed each other when I came in from my date. Shortest date in history. Dad and I weren’t exactly on speaking terms. He wasn’t actually watching TV, either. Just lying on the couch, arms folded, stiff as a corpse.

“He finally fell asleep,” Luna said. “I don’t want him to wake up and catch us.” She shouldered her purse. “Or stop us.”

“Where are we going?” I tiptoed behind her up the stairs. No creaking. She must’ve disengaged the sound effects.

We slipped past Dad, no problem. He was out cold, an empty beer on the rug by his hand.

Luna punched in the Spyder’s security code and we climbed in, easing the doors shut. At the roar of the engine we both cringed, but no lights came on. No doors flew open. Luna backed to the street.

I waited until we were on the Interstate before speaking. “Wherever we’re going, you’re bound to get noticed in that getup. Wow.”

She beamed. It was true. She looked gorgeous. Her suit was tailored, expensive, white wool, with a navy blue blouse and matching pumps. She had a new blonde wig, shoulder-length with bangs, which made her look totally glam. This must’ve been her birthday present to herself.

Her eyes reflected the streetlamps along the highway as she concentrated on the road. But the sparkle seemed to originate within.

Something else sparkled. “Hey, do you like them?” I indicated my ear. I’d forgotten about my birthday present to her.

She touched her right earlobe. “I love them.” She turned and smiled. “Thank you. They’re perfect.”

I’d chosen a pair of gold earrings, half moons. Opposing halves that formed a whole when pieced together.

Past the city limits, we picked up speed. Traffic was sparse this time of morning. Plus, it was Sunday. Wasn’t it? Last night seemed a lifetime ago. I wanted to talk to Luna about Mom and Dad, but wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. Or what there was to say. They’d been tested as parents and failed. Zero percent.

We flew by so fast I almost missed it. The sign. “We’re going to the airport?” My head swiveled all the way around to confirm.

Luna’s expression didn’t change.

My heart raced. It hammered against my chest.

We veered up the ramp for departing passengers and Luna located a parking space in the short-term lot. Opening her door, she swung out both legs and stood.

“What are we doing here?” I said, following her out my side.

She opened the trunk and reached in, extracting a bulging suitcase and a carry-on bag, then her laptop in a leather brief-case I’d never seen before. She handed me the carry-on and laptop.

My heart was breaking ribs. “Clue me in. What’s going on?”

Her high heels clicked on the pavement as she headed for the elevators.

“Luna —”

“Oh, shoot.” She spun in place. “I forgot my coat. Will you run back?” She handed me her keys. “The door code is 6940128. Can you remember it?”

No, I thought. I can’t think.

“Re?”

“Say it again.”

“6940128.”

Replaying the numbers in my head gave them a rhythm — 694, 0128. 694, 01, 28. The coat was in the back seat covering an envelope. On the front of the envelope was written, “Mom and Dad,” in Luna’s pink ink. My throat constricted. Next to the envelope was a box from Nordstrom’s and a card attached with my name on it.

I slammed the door shut. This was not happening.

She was standing at the ticket counter, to the side, being questioned by a security guard. Oh God. She was nodding her head at him, looking freaked. As I hurried toward her, the guard motioned another official over and talked to him a moment. They both turned away from Luna and sniggered into their chests. An arrow pierced my heart.

As I reached the counter, the first guard handed back Luna’s driver’s license and said, “I’m sorry. I can’t let you board.”

Luna snatched up her laptop and luggage and hustled toward me. “What a hassle,” she said under her breath. “I have to change back.”

She scanned the area, then took off down the corridor toward the restrooms. I jogged behind her, eventually snagging her suit jacket. “Would you please tell me what the hell you’re doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” she said, barely looking at me. “Would you guard my stuff until I get back?”

She dumped her briefcase and carry-on at my feet, then ducked her head and disappeared in the women’s restroom with the suitcase. I decided to kill her when she returned. A ticketing agent approached and I said, “One of the toilets just overflowed in there.”

She made a face and scurried away.

A few minutes later Luna came out dressed in slacks and a blouse, without the bra, without the wig. She’d wiped the lip-stick clean, but the eye makeup remained. As she bent to retrieve her briefcase from the end of my limp arm, she said, “It took me forty-five minutes to get this eyeliner on straight and I’m not taking it off.”

She stormed back to the ticket counter and checked in. This time they let her through.

Rendezvousing with me again, she eyed her coat that I was dragging on the floor and removed it from my hand, brushing it off. She stuck her boarding pass in the pocket of her briefcase and checked her watch. “There’s still an hour before my flight. Do you want to get something to eat? I’m starving.”

“No.” I seethed. “I want you to tell me what you think you’re doing.”

Surveying the vicinity over my head, she replied, “I’m going to Seattle. Teri Lynn has an extra room where I can stay until I get settled. She’s going to speak to her therapist on Monday to see if he can take me right away.”

“For what?” I fairly screeched.

Luna finally looked at me. “For evaluation. To begin my change. To start the Harry Benjamin standards of care. Depending on how strictly this doctor adheres to the rules, I may be required to live as a woman for a year to complete my real-life experience. Then I’ll need two letters from psychotherapists to recommend me for SRS. Which shouldn’t be a problem.” She glanced around again. “Come on. Let’s get a croissant.” She sped off down the corridor.

I scrambled to stay up with her, but my brain lagged behind. It was trying to process everything she’d said. She was going to Seattle. For SRS. She was leaving.

She veered into a coffee shop and stood at the counter, studying the menu on the blackboard. She ordered a latte and a chocolate-filled croissant, then queried me.

It was all I could do to shake my head no. No, no, no.

Luna told the clerk, “Make that two croissants. And an orange juice.”

Luna paid and I trailed her to a booth. Not too many people here at five-thirty A.M. on a Sunday. Maintenance crew. Couple of Skycaps. I gazed out the window where a small engine plane was taxiing down the runway. Across from me Luna gobbled her croissant, but I couldn’t eat. My stomach hurt.

As if thinking out loud, she said, “I need to get my own prescription for estrogen, too.”

“What?” Was that the hormone she was taking, estrogen? Luna rattled on about antiandrogens, laser hair removal, breast implants if she still needed them.

If? I glanced at her chest. Was she growing breasts?

Estrogen. It stuck in my head. Wasn’t Mom taking estrogen? She’d said something about a prescription. “Are you stealing hormones from Mom’s medicine cabinet?” I said. Or was Mom doing what she was so good at, pretending not to notice? Giving him the opportunity. “Is she trying to kill you again?”

“What?” Liam made a face. “What are you talking about?”

I turned away.

“Mom never hurt me. She wouldn’t —”

“She knows about you.” I whirled back. “She always has, hasn’t she?”

Luna closed her eyes and dropped her head. She let out a sigh. “Did I ever tell you about the time she caught me in her room?”

“No,” I said. “When?”

Luna raised her hand and took a sip of coffee. “It wasn’t the first time. I always thought I was being so careful, but you know me. I get lost in the mirror and the hours just slip away.” Luna smiled somberly. “The last time, I guess I was ten or eleven. I don’t know where everyone was, but I do recall what I was wearing. Mom’s negligee and bra and heels and this wig I’d purchased at a yard sale. I was doing my makeup when, out of thin air, Mom appeared. I almost poked out my eye with a mascara brush.” Luna blinked at the memory, her eyes far away.

“She told me to stop. Mom said, ‘You’d better stop right now.’” Luna imitated her perfectly. “Like I could. Mom didn’t really understand. About the need, you know? I hated not telling you, Re. I thought you should know that Mom knew. But she warned me, ‘Don’t you ever tell anyone, Liam. Especially not Regan. What if it came up in conversation and your father heard? What if he saw you like this? Do you know what it would do to him? Do you know what he’d do to you?’” Luna’s lips parted and she expelled a shallow breath.

God, Mom. Thanks a lot for trusting me. No wonder Luna was scared of Dad. Yeah, she knew what he would do: shut her down or shut her out. Exactly what happened.

“That’s been the hardest part,” Luna went on. “Having this unspoken truth between Mom and me. Knowing it was ‘unspeakable.’” She shook her head slowly. “Yes, Mom’s always known. She just hasn’t known how to cope with it. Or me.” A slight smile creased Luna’s lips. “Well, she did give me her favorite tapestry bag for my fourteenth birthday.” Luna chuckled into her chest.