Riley laughed—a wet, surprised sound. “Both?”
Marisol slid the mug across the bar. “You know what the difference is between the transgender community and the rest of LGBTQ culture?”
Deja pulled up a stool on the other side of Riley. “Well, kid. You’ve got two choices. You can sit here and cry into excellent hot chocolate, or you can let me teach you how to wing eyeliner so sharp it could cut a homophobe.”
She told Riley about the 1990s, when she’d go to gay bars and hear men whisper “trap.” When LGBT organizations would fight for same-sex marriage but leave out gender identity protections. When the T in LGBT felt less like a letter and more like an asterisk.
Riley shook their head.
“New stray?” Deja asked.