Matthew was mostly quiet as he drove us back the house after lunch. Turns out the place he was talking about was a burger joint with food of surprisingly high quality. His car was one of those long and flat ones, not really fancy which was unexpected. I would have thought he would have been a little more well off considering how wealthy our dad seemed. Then again, he's a free individual who can make his own decisions, but it was a reasonably messy car though. Then again, I also can't talk much there either.

"Hang on." Dylan said as we walked towards the door. "I want to get something from the car."

Matt swirled his key ring on his fingers as Dylan popped up our trunk and started pushing through blankets. I was suddenly consciously aware or the pride flags we still had e windows, but as I glanced nervously back at Matt he didn't seem to notice. or he just didn't care. I don't which one set me more on edge.

"Here we are." Dylan swung his ukulele on his back. "You want you drawing stuff Att?"

"What?" Matt raised an eyebrow.

Dylan straightened so fast he hit his head on the door to the trunk. "Ow! Ah, I meant-" I watched him visibly cringe. "Allie."

Despite the fact that I had started to panic again, I really loved him. Dylan hid his face in embarrassment and handed me my sketchbook and pencil bag. I took it from him and glanced at Matt nervously. He just gave us a confused stare and turned around to open the door to the apartment. I turned back to Dylan who looked incredibly worried, his face had gone pale.

We walked inside and Dylan was still silent as we put down our stuff. Matt walked into the living room and kicked his feet up on the couch. He quickly sunk into a tv coma, completely unaware of us. I think that meant we were safe and he suspected nothing. I felt a small tap on my shoulder and turned around to see Dylan still looked incredibly stressed.

"Can I talk to you?" He asked.

"Of course!" I replied,

He seemed so serious as we walked back to my room. He closed the door with such solemn and I began to worry if something else had happened in the last few minutes that I missed.

"I'm so so sorry." He apologized under his breath. "Atticus I'm so sorry I didn't mean too to let it slip and then I just-"

"It's okay." I assured, my voice coming out quiet and shaken, I didn't expect him to get so emotional.

"No, it isn't, I- I have to make it up to you somehow." He promised taking both of my hands in his.

"Dylan." I tried to calm him. "It's not a big deal-"

"It is! You're my boyfriend, I'm the last person who should deadname you. It isn't fair that I have that power over you." He insisted.

My eyes widened as I realized what he was trying to imply. "You don't have to do this."

"Fair's fair." He insisted.

He was so stubborn, oh my God. Especially when it came to things like this, fairness and just, incredible concern. Dylan Clark was, as always, way too good for me.

"Sarah." He said, like the word left a sour taste on his tongue. "That's what it was."

I stood there and honestly didn't know what to say for a second. "Thank you for sharing it. It... I mean wow this means a lot."

"Yeah." He blushed. "Well hopefully now we can just leave those people behind us, right?"

"Definitely." I agreed.

We were okay after that. I hung out in my room and started to draw some of the pigeons we had seen earlier. There were a lot more pigeons in the city, and palm trees. The landscapers hear pulled no punches when it came to amount of palm trees planted everywhere. It added to the surreal feeling of the whole city seeming unreal.

Eventually Dylan wandered back into my room because he got bored easily and brought back with him two bowls of just dry cereal. Which I accepted gratefully as I watched him pull out his phone and tune his ukulele on it.

"Have you written anything new?" I asked.

"Yeah." He suddenly blushed really deep. "You want hear it?"

"Of course I do, babe."

He smiled nervously, like a puppy, and scooted a little closer to me before clearing his throat.

"I love your hands, I love your face. Red flowers in a pale blue vase. The grass is green, the sun is full. I love you till it's grey and dull." He strummed, then finished it by throwing me a mildly embarrassed pair of finger guns.

"Dylan." I ginned. "You have to stop being so cute. I'm going to die."

"You like it?" He clutched the neck of his uke with white knuckles and a red face. "All of them sound kind of dumb out loud."

"They're perfect honey." I patted his knee gently.

He finally let himself smile and mashed is hands into his face, embarrassed. "Aw shucks."

I chuckled, putting down my sketchbook. "Why are you so afraid of what I'm going to say every time? They're literally the sweetest thing ever."

"I can't help it, I'm scared of pretty boys." He replied instantly, then strummed a note on the guitar. "And starting conver-sations."

I shoved him and he cackled with delight. He rolled back onto his feet and stopped a little bit away from my face. Dylan blinked once and started to lean in.

"I'm home!" The door slammed as my dad walked in.

I straightened (which can be taken quite literally) and didn't realize how far I had been bent over. The two of us coughed awkwardly and stood up. I brushed dried cereal off of my hoodie. How long had been wearing my binder? My ribs had started to ache slightly and I figured I should probably take a break.

"You kids ready for dinner? I'm going to make something wild tonight."

"Dad for the last time, toast isn't wild." Matt's muffled voice floated in.

"I'm going to change." I told Dylan. "If you want to go socialize."

"Alone with your parent, what a wonderful idea." He laughed as he left the room.

After I changed out of my binder I walked into the kitchen to see Dylan sitting and watch Matt and my dad go back and forth playfully. My boyfriend had the face of a man who doesn't know what to do in this situation. I patted his shoulder gently.

"Hey dad."

"Hey kiddo." He turned around and gave me a hearty hug. "You feeling alright now?"

"Yeah." I assured. "What are you making?"

"Chicken Parmesan." Matt answered. "I swear the only times he eats well are when he's hired help or I visit."

"You cook?"

He nodded and tied his dark hair up into a small little bun on top of his head. "I run a small little place in downtown LA. I should take you there sometime."

"That would be nice." I agreed, he seemed friendlier now for some reason, not so closed off.

My dad snorted. "Don't count on it. He's always saying stuff like that. 'I'll show you my apartment sometime' or 'I'll bring my girlfriend over for dinner sometime' and I still haven't met her."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Hannah has a busy schedule, we haven't been able to find a good date yet."

"Well I've met my daughter's boyfriend already and she's..." He trailed off, looking to me. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen, eighteen in five months." I replied, only partly put off by the fact he didn't know.

"Right, my point still stands." My dad said.

Matt let out a small hum of acknowledgement and opted to focus in the vegetables he was cutting up. My dad looked partially annoyed by the fact Matt never seemed to want to continue any conversation. Instead he turned to me.

"Right, Allie I talked to your mom on the phone for a while today."

My blood turned to ice and I couldn't move for a whole three seconds as I processed this. "Wh-what?"

"Yeah, don't worry I hashed things out with her. She wanted to go to court but then I brought up the fact that you came here willingly to escape her so she would probably lose."

I relaxed slightly. I was scared that she would have brought my trans-ness up and outed me before I could myself. Luckily my mom was too much in denial I guess.

"So... I can stay with you?" I blinked.

He nodded. "Yep, as long as you want. Though she does want to call you at least once a week. I had to give her something, but it isn't that bad."

He was actually right, that wasn't that bad. I could work with this. This newfound surge of energy came with brash confidence and I suddenly got the urge that I had been waiting for.

"Hey dad?" I asked.

He glanced over at me and I knew I had his attention. "What?"

"Can I tell you something? And can you promise not to freak out?" I asked, beside me, Dylan suddenly sat up straight.

He glanced form left to right. "Sure thing, kiddo you can tell me anything."

"You too Matt, because I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other." I wrung my hands together nervously.

Matt left the pan he was cooking veggies in and turned around to give me his full attention. His eyes were dark and focused, like he was eating for something, but they weren't unkind. My dad seemed like he didn't know how to read the mood of the situation so was trying to play it off as humorous anyway.

"The only rules are you aren't allowed to interrupt me, wait until I'm finished." I started, they both nodded. "Okay, so the whole time I've been here, you have been calling me Allie, I just want to let you know that's actually wrong."

My dad frowned and opened his mouth but Dylan intercepted it. "No talking till the end."

I squeezed his hand. "My real name is Atticus, and you're probably thinking that's a boy's name. You're right because... I'm also a boy. I've always felt this way and calling me by anything else makes me feel, well, sad among other things. The point I'm trying to get across is I'm transgender and I really hope that doesn't change anything between us."

I closed my eyes and waited for their response.