He listened for feminity, not for the content of my sentences. I felt so frisky and special. I wanted to scream, “I’m about to be a faggot” at t...e top of my lungs. My heart raced, and my skin went cold with anticipation. He walked me to my car around the corner and told me to follow him, back to his house, where we could be alone and try all the things I’d been wanting to try. He walked a few steps, turned back and embraced me, out of view of the club. He put his hands on my waist and leaned in. I slow down, turning into the driveway hesitantly. A few more weeks and this won’t be ours. This won’t be where we come to have holidays, and it’s no longer the sacred haunt of my youth. Someone else will own it, and do with it what they wish. The inside of the house is in an uproar. Boxes all over the place, bags of trash lining the front porch, waiting to be taken to the end of the lane. Load after load of things taken from there rests in our garage and basement. The merging of two households. More

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