28

Corey knew his reaction was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. Somehow, the first thing that came out of his mouth was a big laugh.

Quinn’s face fell. She was turning bright red. “I knew it. I should have kept my fat mouth shut.”

“No! No!” Corey shouted. “I’m not laughing at you! Not at all. It’s just that—well . . .”

“Well, what?” Quinn snapped.

“Well . . .” Corey shrugged. “So?”

“So?” Quinn looked baffled. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, so? You’re cis female but you gender identify as male,” Corey said. “Or is it not really a gender-fluidity thing, but just a disguise to get a job? Either way, what’s the biggie?”

“Is that English?”

“The point is—why the big secret? What’s wrong with you dressing and identifying as male?”

Quinn stared at him. Corey tried to read her expression but it seemed east of scared, west of baffled, north of furious, and south of relieved. “So . . . you don’t think that’s wrong?”

“Okay, okay, I think I get this—you’re too out-there for 1917 Wyoming, right?” Corey’s mind went through all the events of the last two days. “So, you and me sleeping on that bed . . . changing . . . going into the water with all those boys who had taken off their—”

“It wasn’t proper,” Quinn said.

Corey exhaled. He had to put his hand on his brow to keep his head from flying away. “Wow. That must have felt miserable, Quinn. Keeping that all bottled inside.”

“I had no choice.”

“Why? Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to think I was . . .” Quinn’s voice trailed off, and she turned away.

“What?”

“Abnormal, okay?” Quinn said. “Perverted. Sinful. Bad.”

“Wanting to be a boy is perverted?”

“Everyone but you thinks it is! I just wanted to get this job. I can do anything with horses a boy can do. The job advertisement was for boys and men only. So I dressed the part. I like boys’ clothes, anyway. And my daddy was going to make me burn them and marry Buzz Hockenmeyer, which would have been a fate worse than death.”

Corey took a deep breath. The sun was high, passing into afternoon, and the temperature was getting hot enough to dry them. Soon they would be just the way they had been. And then again, not.

He looked out toward the leafy, tranquil New Jersey shore across the river and imagined the steel-and-glass skyscrapers that were to come. “You know, a lot of things really suck in the twenty-first century,” he said. “Trust me. But in some ways it’s pretty cool. Well, kids are cool—some grown-ups maybe not so much. Anyway, if I could bring you back, you’d fit right in. You wouldn’t have to hide or pretend.” Corey smiled and put a gentle hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “Don’t think you’re bad. Bad is torturing puppies or copying someone’s homework or bullying or committing crimes. Bad is not what you are. You are normal. And you’re right, you’re better than the guys.”

“Thanks, Corey.” Quinn nodded, but Corey could tell she didn’t quite believe him. “I—I’m sorry I attacked you.”

Corey rubbed his neck. “I’ll survive.”

“Say, if I help you find the thieves who took your stuff, will you take me to the future with you?”

“I can’t, Quinn. I can’t even get back myself. Besides, you’d hate it.”

“You said I’d fit right in.”

“But you’d have so much to adjust to. Nobody in the city rides horses. Cars are all over the place, and they go super fast. The skies are full of vehicles, too. They’re called helicopters and jet planes. You can’t swim in the river without getting diseases. People carry around their own telephones and spend the whole day looking at them.”

“Well, if there are others like me, it would be worth it. There’s nobody like me now.”

“Yeah, there are,” Corey replied. “You’re in New York. You’ll find them.”

“Promise me when you go back, you’ll look me up in your history books! ’Cause I plan to be famous.”

“I’ll google you.”

Quinn glared at him. “I’ve shot at people for less.”

“No! It’s an internet—never mind,” Corey said, feeling his face turn red. “Hey. Let’s go back to the Better Ridgefield. We’ll take turns standing outside the door while the other takes a shower.”

Quinn smiled. She looked quickly to either side. Then, as quick as a flick of her lasso, she leaned in and gave Corey a kiss. “Deal. Last one there is a rotten egg.”