I swore I wouldn’t make personal connections. And I already screwed it up.
This was something I wanted anyway. To never talk to others again, to travel the world as a nobody. And I had been doing well with that for a couple of weeks. So why was it that some random girl in a California train station was what stopped me from going through with that?
I’d shook her hand. Asked her where she was going. And even when she ran away, I followed her and told her my name. Everything I thought I’d never do again, I’d done in the span of a minute. She’d just be another liar, pretending to be kind to me, but then going back to her family and laughing about me to the rest of them.
At least after this we’d never see each other again.
She told me her name. Ty.
“Huh,” I said. “I’ve never heard of a girl having a name like that before.”
She squirmed.
“I’m actually.. uh.. I’m nonbinary. So that’s why, I guess.”
As soon as she said that, I could see her sink deeper in her seat. She quickly looked away, visibly squirming.
“Heh, I thought I’d feel happy after saying that. I just feel weird now,” she mumbled quietly.
I looked at her, confused. I’d never heard of nonbinary. The way she said it, it sounded like something to be ashamed of, something to hide. And that certainly seemed to be how she felt too.
“What’s nonbinary?” I asked.
She turned towards me, still feeling uncomfortable but trying to summon the courage to explain. I scooted towards her. I didn’t know what it was that made her so scared, but I wanted her to know that I’d listen and support her, whatever it was.
“Basically, I’m not a girl, or a boy. I’m somewhere between that. And I’d like it if you referred to me with they/them pronouns. Not she or her, not he or him. They and them.”
“But you look like a girl? Your hair’s just a little short, everything else about you looks completely like a girl…”
She- or they- looked away. “I don’t have a lot of options right now.”
I looked at her- them- in confusion. I’d never heard of anything like this before. Someone who was neither male nor female. I looked up, at the bustling crowd, rushing to reach their platforms in time. I heard the screams of little kids, the yells of arguing parents, the casual chatter of adolescents. So many colors glistened in the light falling from the sunroof, colors I had only seen in picture books from my childhood back home. So many different types of people that I’d only ever heard of in the past.
And I realized just how limited I was. If all I knew was one person from one town for the rest of my life, if I was that one person from that one town for the rest of my life, I’d never get to truly know the world around me. I’d just be frozen in time, in space. And the girl- or the person- next to me, was one of those different people, one that would never exist or be accepted in the rural towns of Arkansas.
I swore I wouldn’t make personal connections. But maybe if I did, I could understand the world better. And this person, being so different from anyone I’d ever known, would be the perfect first connection.
“Ty?”
Ty turned towards me. I gripped their hand. A small gasp fluttered from their mouth.
“Y-yeah?”
“You’re really cool.”
Awkward silence. As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized just how strange that sounded, especially for someone as nervous and anxious as Ty. But slowly, they began to giggle. And all the worry left their eyes, as they laughed and laughed, in joy or to tease, I couldn’t tell. But they looked so happy I couldn’t help but smile along with them.
And in that moment, I really began to notice them, how their short hair bounced around in excitement, how their earthy eyes glimmered in the sunlight. How their laughs weren’t refined and controlled, but snorty and genuine.
Eventually, the laughter died down. Ty looked down, smiling. They scooted towards me and looked into my eyes.
“I think you’re cool too.”
