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David shook his head, his blond hair falling across his face. “Not anymore.”
Aaron’s chest tightened. The thought of anyone trying to hurt David or Brynn made his guts twist. What had happened to them?
“Tell me what you need.” Aaron focused on the fourteen-year-old in front of him.
David smoothed his hair back, his chin lifting and shoulders squaring. “I thought there was something wrong with me my whole life. After we got away—”
“What do you mean, got away?” Alerts blared in Aaron’s mind at the word the young man used.
David opened, then closed his mouth before he looked down. His shoulders carried a tightness that wasn’t there before. He eyed the door.
Aaron lifted his hand. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, but I’m here to help you any way I can.”
David nodded and relaxed back into the seat. “Anyways, my mom brought me here because we both thought I was gay. I didn’t know there were so many people like me.”
“Sometimes it can take a while to figure out your sexuality. You’re still young; it may take a little experimenting.”
David shook his head. “This isn’t about my sexuality. It’s about my gender.”
Aaron tipped his head to the side, waiting to hear how he could help. “Go on.”
“After doing some research, and reading some of the books you have here in the library, and talking to some of the other kids, I realized . . . I’m transgender.”
Aaron sat back in his chair, his face softening as he gave the young girl what he hoped was a comforting smile. “I’m sure that’s a lot to grapple with. But I’m proud of you for telling me, and for taking a step towards living your truest life. Do you need some resources?”
David shook his head. “Not exactly. I wondered if you’d help me tell my mom?”
It wasn’t uncommon for teens at the center to ask Aaron to mediate conversations with family, and he was happy to lend them that support.
“Sure, no problem. And I have a packet of information about what it means to be transgender—resources, the names of doctors . . .” Aaron stood and opened one of the file cabinets against the back wall, then found a packet of what he was looking for. He set the manila folder on the desk in front of David.
“What should we call you now? Or do you still want to go by David for the time being?”
She shifted in her chair, smiling. “I thought maybe Danielle.”
Aaron nodded. “Alright, Danielle. You can have your mom stop by anytime and—”
A knock interrupted his speech.
Danielle jumped to her feet. “That should be her.”
No time like the present, I guess. Aaron’s gaze flicked to the door as Danielle opened it. Brynn, roughly the same height as Danielle, glanced up at him with those brilliant green eyes that were always searching her surroundings.
Aaron reached out. “Come on in and have a seat.” He motioned towards the chairs across from his desk.
Brynn crossed her arms over her body, bowing her head as she timidly walked in. She seemed to take as little space as possible in the room, tucking her body into the seat, just like every other time he’d seen her at some of their mutual friends’ gatherings.
Aaron sat, hoping the position would make him seem a little less threatening than his six-foot-eight stature allowed.
“Is something wrong?” Brynn asked, looking to Danielle instead of him, her short brown hair falling over the side of her face. Brynn made no move to fix it, as if she was most comfortable hiding behind the curtain. She reached out a slender hand to Danielle’s knee, the oversized threadbare T-shirt drooping low enough for Aaron to make out her delicate and pronounced collarbone. The woman was tiny with barely any meat on her bones. Do they have enough to eat?
“No, nothing is wrong,” Aaron assured her.
Brynn’s magnetic gaze flicked to his before dropping to his broad chest.
“I wanted to tell you something, and I wanted Mr. Ridley here while I did it,” Danielle offered.
Brynn focused back on her child.
