(Angel)

It’s the Shy Kid from the Bus

the one reminded me of Frankie.

I look down

and this time his shoelaces are tied.

Frankie’s never were.

Smart-ass would do it on purpose,

’cause he knew it drove me crazy.

When I saw him on New Year’s

he wore Top-Siders

and I cried all the way home.

Group hasn’t started and

everyone’s just hangin’ around.

I can tell it’s a lot for this kid to take in.

Looks like he wants to run

so I tell the other intern, Lisa,

to take the front desk,

and I challenge him to Mario Kart.

I figured him for a gamer

and I’m right.

Kid hesitates, then,

                “I guess.”

We wait for Tiffany and Eric

to finish their DDR

so we can have a turn

with the GameCube,

and we talk game talk.

Halo and Call of Duty,

Gears of War, Assassin’s Creed,

Dead Space, BioShock.

And we talk platforms.

Xbox 360, PlayStation 3,

Wii. And PC games Warcraft,

Half-Life, Command & Conquer.

“You’re a gamer?” he asks.

Emphasis on “You’re.”

I’m not the

stereotype PoPo,

girls can be gamers, too

but I get he has no

idea I’m trans.

“My little brother used to beat me—

then I spent about

four months laid up and

I got really good.”

Quirky smile from him.

Almost smart-ass?

                    “Really good, huh?”

I know a challenge when I hear one.

“It’s so on.”

Eric finishes his dance

and steps aside.

I set up Mario Kart and

away we go.

The kid picks Yoshi

so I take Princess Peach

and I beat him two out of three.

We’re done and

just kind of chatting

when I mention

coming to Willows

around his age,

looking for a healthy

trans community.

His eyes get wide,

then he nods,

glances at the other kids.

Shifty, like

he’s not sure

about this place.

                    “I have to get home,”

                    he says.

I walk him to the door.

“Come back and see us anytime.”

                    “Maybe,” he says,

                    hand on the doorknob.

And I can tell he’s never comin’ back.

And I don’t know if it’s ’cause

he makes me think of Frankie

or if it’s God tellin’ me

this kid needs a friend.

We’re not supposed to have private

contact with the kids at the center

and I do something I wouldn’t

if I didn’t know sure as shit

Brendan’s never gonna be a client here.

“Okay then—

you still have my number?”

He looks surprised,

even more nervous,

and I realize the kid

didn’t think I would

remember him.

“Tell you what.”

I grab paper,

write down my info.

“Call me when the next

Mordock’s Giant comes out.

I’ll play you.”

Of course I want to

help him if he needs it

but also, between school, work, interning

—being all-around productive Angel—

I forgot how much

I love gaming.