And yet he had comforted her after she broke down in the breakaway gender discussion group. He had assured her that she wasn’t the only one who wasn’t out to their parents and who came from a culture where one did not even mention such things; he said that queer folks often chose their families just for these reasons.
He told her that she belonged, as much as anyone else.
Between sessions, they shared lunch. He talked about a short film he was working on, and listened when she talked about saving money for a new violin. They held hands, and before they parted, he told her not to give up, and promised that he would be there whenever she needed.
And then Evan had kissed her goodbye.
But that had been two years ago. When Katrina had finally called for help, it’d taken Evan a week to reply.
Katrina knew that Evan had changed. After all, he’d left college, and never finished the film he’d talked so passionately about at the conference. Still, part of her hoped that he might look at the videos of gaming and anime music she was making for YouTube. Maybe he’d even want to help.
But no matter what, here would be a friendly face and a safe space, even for just a little while.
The door opened.
“It’s you?” Evan said dully.
Katrina tried not to seem shocked. He was thinner than before. His hair was longer, tied up a bun, and he smelled like body odor, cat fur, and sage.
“I sent you an email? And you wrote back. You said to come over. And I sent you texts while I was on the way.”
“Oh. Wait for a sec.” He disappeared inside.
Katrina waited by the doorway. She noticed an old Chinese man across the street eyeing her suspiciously. She gave her best smile as the door opened once more.
“You should have said you were coming for real.” Evan scratched his head. “Could you come back later tonight? I’ve got someone here now.”
“I’m sorry,” Katrina mumbled.
He glared at the man across the street, then yelled back into the room.
“The old man is looking at us again. He looks hungry. Hide the cat!”
“Haha! That’s so fucked up.” The voice inside giggled.
Evan closed the door.
Katrina stood there. He had not even offered to take her bags.
Why did she just apologize? She had told him for real.
Katrina walked blankly to the corner, just as a bus whooshed away. No worries—she didn’t know the bus routes, and an unexpected bus fare was not in her budget anyway.
Katrina kept walking. In his email, Evan had written that this place was like a foreign country. Yet here were dentist offices and banks and businesses and cafés with clean glass windows, and streets with new Japanese and European SUVs.
For a while, she lost herself in the novelty of being in this new town. But eventually, her feet started to hurt, her rib was throbbing, and she was low on ibuprofen. And besides, she needed to use the bathroom.
So Katrina decided to buy a boba.
The boba would cost money, but she would also have a place to rest and think. Luckily, this street offered a boba shop every couple blocks or so. Soon, Katrina found a perfect spot to have a clean table, sip a kiwi boba, and watch the world go by.
But first, the bathroom.
The women’s room was locked. Eventually, a girl came out and gave her a disapproving look, but she didn’t block her way.
Katrina entered and began to fix her hair in the mirror. But then remembered the look from that girl.
The hair could wait. She needed to use the bathroom right now.
The seat was cool and clean. There was air freshener, a flower in a vase. She smelled lavender.
Rest. Breathe.
She had just finished when there was a knock on the door.
“Excuse me. Excuse me,” a male voice said.
She flushed, washed up, and exited the bathroom. She grabbed her things and left without stopping or looking up.
“Sorry, sorry,” she mumbled. “The men’s room was taken.”
Well, at least I didn’t have to buy anything, right?
Katrina told herself she should be thankful. Thanks to the part-time work, the cam shows, the blowjobs, she had escaped home and made it here. She had her violin. She had her laptop and a fresh supply of hormones. She was alive.
Still, was it so difficult to find a place to sit down?
Then Katrina saw a sign for El Molino Park.
Katrina did not know what El Molino Park was, but if it was a nice park, there would be places to rest. She pushed forward, past a 7-Eleven, past a Chinese herb store, a Mexican hardware store, a Vietnamese nail salon, a Taiwanese dance studio, more boba places, a dozen noodle shops …