Chapter 01

My college class was one of those rare groups that stuck together through almost the entire program. We were in that final stretch now, where the only thing we all wanted was to graduate and escape those endless lectures and professors who seemed determined to drain every last drop of life out of us. But right near the end, something unexpected shook up our routine: a trans woman joined our class to finish up a few missing credits.

It was like dropping a rock into a still pond. The ripples hit immediately. There were the folks who didn’t give a damn, people who just tuned it out. Then there were the asshole bigots who even started a petition to try and kick her out of school, like her presence was some kind of threat. Others just ignored her, maybe out of laziness or some buried prejudice. And then there was me. Me, who couldn’t contain my curiosity. I had a million questions burning on the tip of my tongue, and I’d catch myself staring at her in the hallways, trying to strike up conversations whenever I could, but she was closed off, almost untouchable. She didn’t seem interested in making friends or chatting about the weather or upcoming exams.

She was tall, with this commanding presence that made people notice her entrance even if they didn’t want to. Always feminine, in clothes that looked tailor-made for her body, flawless makeup, and nails always on point. Her hair was always perfect, like a moving work of art. I wondered how she pulled it all off. Honestly, I felt like a champ if I could just wash my hair and throw on something decent for class without looking like I’d been through a tornado.

But I’m one of those schemers, the kind who doesn’t play fair. When I heard the next assessment was a group project in pairs, I jumped on it right away. I pulled some strings, headed to the dean’s office, and cornered the professor before he could announce it in class, making sure she’d be paired with me. No way was I letting that chance slip by.

When the professor finally revealed the project in lecture, I saw her shoot me a look that mixed surprise and suspicion. Those dark eyes, sharp and watchful, sizing me up like she was trying to figure out my angle. After class, it didn’t take long for her to corner me in the hall, her heels clicking on the cold tile floor like a bold statement with every step.

“Girl, what the hell? How did we end up paired together?” Her voice was steady, but not aggressive — just genuine curiosity.

I played it innocent, flashing a shameless grin like I had nothing to hide.

“Oh, I was in the dean’s office when he mentioned the project. I figured you might not have anyone to team up with since you just transferred in and don’t know many people yet, so I volunteered us. Does that bother you?”

I lied through my teeth without batting an eye. Because deep down, my curiosity wasn’t just about the project — it was raw and straightforward. I wanted to know where she kept her dick. If she had one or not. It was a question that consumed me for no good reason, I know I’m nuts.

She eyed me for what felt like an eternity, her gaze narrowing a bit before she broke into that sweet, calm smile I was starting to recognize as her signature.

“Nah, it doesn’t bother me. Actually, it kinda warms my heart. Thanks, babe, for real. That means a lot.”

“So, grab my number,” I said, already pulling my phone from my bag. “Tonight at my place? Cool?”

“Sure, honey.”

“And bring some booze!” I added without thinking twice.

She laughed, a quick, spontaneous burst that made the dingy hallway feel a little less gray for a second.

“Alright, you got it.”

And I headed off down the corridors feeling like I’d won the lottery with my little scheme.

That night, things flowed surprisingly easy. She showed up at my apartment looking stunning as always, carrying a couple of bags with beers and that elegant vibe that made her seem ready for a party or a big meeting. The first few sips kept the talk on safe ground: college, annoying profs, deadlines that seemed to shrink every week. She stayed guarded, dancing around anything personal, dodging any probe that might reveal more about her. But then the alcohol kicked in, loosening tongues and blurring edges.

“Girl, spill it,” she started, her eyes a little brighter, voice coming out freer. “I know you’ve been staring at me in class. What’s your deal with me?”

I froze for a beat. For someone so reserved, she’d just dropped a bomb out of nowhere, catching me totally off guard. Heat rushed up my neck, and I tried to cover with a forced laugh.

“What? I didn’t even know you existed until we got paired for this project,” I lied, tossing my head back to play it cool.

She just arched an eyebrow, that look screaming “don’t bullshit me.” She took another swig of her beer before firing back.

“Come on, don’t play dumb. You’re curious about me, right? What do you wanna ask? Go ahead.”

“Can I ask anything?” I ventured, still a bit wary.

“Shoot. Lay it out.”

I sat there for a few seconds, swirling my beer in the glass while I figured out how to phrase it without sounding like a total jerk.

“Okay… it’s just, as a trans woman, is it hard for you to find a boyfriend?” I blurted, feeling the weight of the words the second they left my mouth. For a moment, her face twisted like I’d hit a sore spot, and I almost wished I could take it back.

She sighed, her fingers tracing slowly down the frosty glass, like she was hunting for the right words.

“Look, boyfriend? Yeah. A guy? Nah. That’d be easy if I wanted it,” she said, her tone cryptic, only stoking my curiosity more.

“If you wanted it? What do you mean? You don’t?” I leaned in, trying to read her face, every twitch, every shift that might clue me in.

She let out a short, mocking laugh and shifted on the couch, stretching out her legs with the confidence of someone about to drop a truth bomb.

“Yeah, babe. It’s just that your closed-off minds can’t see past your own noses. I’m a lesbian, honey.”

I blinked a few times, trying to process it. That hit me in a way I wasn’t expecting. It wasn’t exactly the answer I’d pictured, but hell, I wasn’t sure what I’d pictured.

“Fuck, you just blew my mind. You’re a lesbian? But… you’re trans, damn it!” I let slip without a filter, the shock spilling out before I could rein it in.

She gave me a look of pure skepticism, like I was a kid who’d just said the most naive, ignorant thing imaginable.

“And what does that have to do with anything, babe?” she shot back, her voice laced with a patience I wasn’t sure was real or just her giving me one last shot before shutting me down.

I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out. She stared at me with an intensity that made me feel small, like all my biases had just stripped naked in the room, raw and exposed, no makeup to hide it.

“See?” she went on, her tone sharpening now, the words slicing through the air between us. “That’s why I don’t mingle with people at school. Because in your heads, being trans and being a lesbian is some contradiction, a paradox. But it’s not. I am who I am.”

“Okay, I don’t get it, but if you’re into women, wouldn’t it have been easier to stay a guy?”

She took a deep breath.

“So babe, it’s that I don’t feel like I was born a guy, you know? I feel like a woman, just like you. And I don’t like men. Simple as that.”

“I’m shocked!” I blurted, my face heating up on the spot.

She laughed, throwing her head back with that carefree ease only booze can bring. Her laugh was infectious, real, almost melodic, and it made me feel kinda silly, like I’d just asked the most obvious question in the world. Probably had, to her.

“Oh man, your reactions are gold,” she said, still wiping her eyes with her fingertips. “Go on, ask something else, but keep it simpler this time.”

I didn’t overthink it, just fired off the next question that had been burning in my mind for weeks.

“Okay, do you have a dick?”

She nearly spit out her beer, choking for a second before bursting into laughter, this time loud and full-bodied, the kind that shakes you and throws your head back. A little spilled on the rug, but she didn’t seem to care. When she finally caught her breath, she looked at me with eyes still sparkling from the fit.

“Of course I do, babe! I’m not post-op, and honestly, I don’t even want to be.”

“Oh my God, this is so confusing!” I admitted, swinging my legs up on the couch and turning to face her straight on. “I thought all you girls wanted to get rid of it.”