Chapter 24 November 4th 2025

Whit stood in the corner and counted heads. His painting class usually ran fifteen to twenty students. Tonight there were ten.

He knew at least three people had requested refunds from the college for their fees. Troy and Angie even had the gall to cite “poor instruction” as the reason they withdrew from the class.

Whit was on edge. He checked his watch. It was almost time to start.

Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins had congratulated him for standing up to “bigotry,” but they represented roughly half of the Coalition of Saline County Democrats. Mrs. Wicker seemed blissfully unaware of the controversy and was as personable as ever, though she generally only talked to her cats during the week.

“So is this bad?” Grace asked quietly as she slid up beside him.

“Well, it’s not good. The college requires a minimum of ten students to keep a class going,” he said.

Grace took a moment to count the room herself. “Well I’m ten, so you’re good.”

Whit shook his head. “Ten paying students, so…”

Grace smiled. “So my free ride scholarship is over? That’s fine, sign me up as a paying student. I can swing it.”

Whit smiled. “Thanks.”

Just then two young people walked into the classroom.

One had a perm,heavy eyeliner, a brightly colored macramé crossbody bag, a Grateful Dead T-shirt, and huge baggy jeans with dangling straps. The other was a wisp of a kid with thick glasses and a pixie haircut.

They paused in the doorway while the retirees in the room slowly turned and took them in.

The two youths scanned the room until their eyes landed on Whit. They exchanged a quick look and walked over.

“Hi, are you Darren Whitlock?” the smaller one asked in a squeaky, robotic voice.

Whit stuck out a hand. “Yes. Can I help you?”

The short kid shook his hand awkwardly.

“I’m Egon,” he said. “My pronouns are he/him.”

Whit nodded slowly.

The kid with the perm waved cheerfully. “Oh! Teehee. Hi, I’m Erica. I’m enby, so they/them.”

Their voice was performative, vowels stretched out just a little too long. Even when they said their name it sounded like a question.

Whit felt his brain doing mental gymnastics.

The one who looked like a girl was a boy, and the one who looked like a boy was…enby?

“Hi… um… Enby?” Whit said cautiously.

Grace rolled her eyes with a smile. “It’s short for non-binary, professor.”

Whit nodded quickly. “Right. Sorry. This is Grace, by the way.”

Both kids looked at her.

Their mouths fell slightly open.

“Hi,” Erica said slowly.

“Umm… hello?” Grace replied.

Whit clapped his hands lightly, breaking the moment.

“Okay, Egon, Erica. What brings you to my class tonight?”

Egon seemed to be the designated speaker. He looked slightly past Whit, like he was addressing someone over Whit’s shoulder.

“We heard you were a teacher, and we’re interested in signing up for your art class.”

Whit nodded. “Okay… and how old are you?”

“We’re both sixteen. Juniors at Mud Creek High School. We take art there too.”

Whit looked over at Grace with a grin. Now it made sense.

“Sixteen is allowed, but I’ll need a parent or guardian’s signature. There are six weeks left in this session, so tuition will be prorated. I’ll grab the forms and you two can take an easel tonight. Just bring back the signature and tuition next week and we’re good.”

The two looked at each other, smiling.

“Wow, that’s great, Mr. Whitlock,” Erica said.

Egon nodded, then added, “Yeah, and we just wanted to say… it was awesome when you told off that transphobic preacher.”

Whit gave an uncomfortable smile. “Thanks.”

The two new students wandered off toward the easels.

Grace’s grin spread from ear to ear.

“So the legend grows.”

Whit furrowed his brow and went off to grab paperwork.

***

Grace climbed into the Jeep beside Whit and shut the door. “Well what’s it like to be a queer icon?” she asked.

Whit grunted, and didn’t reply. He put the keys in the ignition but didn’t didn’t start the Jeep.

“Is something wrong?” Grace asked.

He’d been putting this off, waiting for a time when he was alone with Grace. Whit had that feeling like he was going to say something he was going to regret, but like ripping off a bandage, it had to be done.

“Why were you dressed the way you were dressed the night of the tornado?”

Grace was taken aback, “Dressed? What are you talking about Sarah?”

Whit didn’t skip a beat, “Please don’t play dumb Grace, you know what I’m talking about.”

He could tell he had struck a nerve, she narrowed her eyebrows, and clamped her jaw down tight.

“No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” she said through a clenched jaw.

Whit sighed, “OK, Halloween night, I heard you in your room, performing.”

Grace lashed out, “What the fuck Sarah, are you spying on me now. You're not my Mom.”

Whit felt himself growing angry, the fact that Grace was referring to him as Sarah went completely unnoticed. He raised his voice, “I wasn’t spying, I just walked by the room that I’m allowing you to stay in and heard it. Do you realize what half the town thinks of us now? We brought you dressed like a sissy camgirl into the emergency room. They think we’re all perverts.”

Grace began to cry, she opened the door of the Jeep, “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you! Fuck you Sarah,” she said and got out.

Whit took off after her, and caught her a few steps across the empty parking lot. “Wait, I’m sorry. Please stop, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Grace spun around, and spoke through tears, “You discovered the glamorous secret life of a Wal-Mart personal shopper. Of course I’m camming. I work 30 hours a week for minimum wage and save every penny I can for surgery. How do you think we met? How the hell do you think I bought so much shit from Amazon. The easel you delivered to me came from shaking my ass for some freak somewhere, probably in Abu Dhabi or some shit.”

Whit met her gaze, “It’s dangerous Grace. There are dangerous people out there.”

She rolled her eyes, “You really do think you’re my Mom? Look I appreciate the concern, but I know what I’m doing. I use secure platforms, I never share personal information. I wear so much makeup and different wigs that I doubt anyone would recognize me when I’m not in “slut mode.”

Whit was at a loss for words, this was a side of Grace he hadn’t seen. She was nineteen years old and had been living alone for a year now. Still he needed to make his point.

“OK, fine, I’m being a worried Mom, but you’re nineteen, you're smart and talented. You could do so many things,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She turned away and brushed his arm off, and wiped tears out of her eyes. “You think I don’t know it’s not a long-term career path. You think I wake up in the morning like, ‘wow, I hope I get to masturbate for lonely dudes on the internet for the rest of my life.’”

Whit found himself crying, and looked down, “I’m worried about you.”

Grace’s expression softened slightly.

“I know,” she said.

Then she tilted her head.

“But you’re also judging me.”

Whit opened his mouth.

“No, I…”

“Yes,” she said calmly. “You are.”

Whit didn’t deny it.

Grace looked over her shoulder, there were a few people coming down the steps from the college. “I’m sorry, let's get back in the Jeep,” Grace said.

Whit nodded and they climbed back in and shut the doors. Whit started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

“You don’t understand what it’s like yet.” She turned and looked Whit in the eyes, “When I ran away at 17 I was living with a bunch of girls in St. Louis. They were all camming, or doing more,” she said.

Whit focused on the road, two hands on the wheel. He started to speak but Grace put a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait. It was like a major mindfuck. All the sudden I was living as a girl, working in a thrift shop. But everywhere I went people stared, or worse. They threw me out when they found out I was 17, but I hated it and was ready to leave anyway,” Grace said.

“That sounds hard,” Whit said.

Grace nodded, “I only got caught because they wanted me to start camming. I said I would never do that. Funny thing is they tried to explain it to me. See, when you’re a girl, especially a young trans girl, for some people you’re just an object. For some you’re like… You’re like something they can pour their love or hatred into. For others you become a fantasy. They want to know things, they want to live their dreams through you. You’re camming just waiting for the bus, whether you want to or not. It’s weird because you know it’s not about you, but the attention still feels good. Like someone finally cares about you.”

Whit nodded, “That's why you cam?”

Grace gave a small shrug, “Yeah, well that and the money,” she said with a sarcastic laugh.

Whit frowned, “I’m sorry but I don’t like the idea of people seeing you like that,”

“Welcome to womanhood, Sarah.”

Whit didn’t know how to respond to that. He was suddenly aware that Grace had been referring to him as Sarah and he hadn’t even thought about it.

“The funny thing is that you missed that part, for better or worse,” Grace said.

“What do you mean?”

Grace shifted over in her seat closer as they pulled onto the highway back to Mud Creek. “You’re already an adult. If you transition people are going to see you as… something else.”

“A man in a dress.” he said quietly.

“Yeah, probably at first. But I think it’ll get better.”

They were silent for a moment as the empty harvested fields slid by out the window.

Grace broke the silence, “Bottom surgery will cost over 30,000 dollars. I’ve been saving for a year and have 10,000. That’s why I was living in that trailer, that’s why I’m camming, and that’s why I’m leaching off you and Lucy.”

Whit felt hurt, “You’re not leaching, you’re our guest.”

Grace smiled, but inwardly she felt a mix of emotions. Sure I’m your guest now, but for how long? I should just move on before the novelty of saving the trans girl wears off on them.

Whit smiled, “Since I’m on a roll there’s a couple other things I wanted to talk about, and since I’m your Mom now, I might as well get them off my chest.”

He pulled onto main street and took the long way back to Northwest Acres, through the mostly empty downtown and past the fading murals.

“You need to get out of this town, and to me, going to college seems to be the best way to do that. I want to help.” Whit explained.

Grace laughed, “Great, are you going to pull some money from my trust fund Mom?”

“No but I want to help you get your GED. I picked up some materials from the college. I doubt you need prep classes, probably just a little studying. I’ll pay for tests.”

Grace leaned back in her seat and stared at the dome light. “OK, so I’ll have a GED, then what?”

Whit turned to look at her, “Then you enroll in college, you could start in the Spring.”

“OK, but I’m not spending my savings on that.” Grace replied.

“Grace!, You are technically homeless, you’ll qualify for a full Pell Grant and a full MAP grant. Tuition is only like 5 thousand, you’ll have thousands left over. You can keep living with us for free, and save it all.”

“Sarah, you better not be fucking with me,” Grace said unable to hide the excitement in her voice.

Whit laughed and pulled into the driveway. “I’m serious, but I have one more request.”

Grace nodded, “Stop camming?”

Whit shook his head, “No, that's your private life. But I’m going to trust that you’re safe about it. And for the love of God don’t let Lucy find out.”

“Ok what then?” Grace asked.

Whit took a deep breath, “Over in Carbondale they have an LBGTQ center, on Thursday nights there is an open group session for trans people. Go with me.”

Grace stared at him for a moment.

“You’re inviting me to therapy?”

Whit shrugged, “It’s not therapy, just a support group.”

Grace winced, “Is it a bunch of people sitting in a circle of folding chairs crying, because honestly camming is a lot more fun than that.”

Whit tried to suppress a laugh, “I don’t know what its like, I’ve never been.”

“So you want me to go with you… to your first therapy group… because you’re scared to go alone?”

Whit opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Grace smiled slightly.

“That’s actually kind of adorable, Sarah.”

Whit groaned. “It might help both of us?”

Grace smiled, “Why are you trying to help me so much?”

“That’s what Moms are for,” Whit said with a laugh and shut off the engine.

Grace opened the door and turned back to Whit, “OK, I’ll go, but if it’s a bunch of people holding hands and talking about their inner child, I’m blaming you.”

Whit smiled, “That’s fair.”

“Oh and Sarah, Thank you.”