Chapter 7

“No Jill?” I say aloud.

This, of course, changes everything. I pick up the phone, tapping furiously with my thumbs to respond.

Morgan: Sounds fun. What time?

Lane: Pick you up at 7!

* * * *

Kat performs a heartbreaking spoken-word piece naming each of the transgender women of color that have been murdered in the past year. She has the entire cafe so rapt that the moment she finishes, it’s as if sound and time and movement come rushing back into a vacuum as the entire place bursts into raucous applause. Max, Lane, and I turn and look at each other, and it’s only then that I realize that we’ve all been crying.

“Holy shit, girl,” Lane says as Kat joins our table. “I am obsessed with you.”

“Me, too!” I chorus. “That was so powerful.”

“Thank you,” Kat says. “Oh, my God! You’re all crying.”

“Yeah, because we loved it!” I say.

“For real,” Max says, wiping his eyes.