Jet slipped through the shadows of the club, unnoticed, unheard. He was solitary, friendless—
“Hey, Trevor,” Jonno said casually.
Jet gritted his teeth. “Hi, Jonno. Hi, Tear.”
He didn’t call them Jonathan and Tracy, although it was tempting.
Jet wasn’t a jerk; he respected peoples’ pronouns and name-changes.
He moved on before his classmates could introduce him to the people at their table as Trevor. Or worse, not introduce him at all, so that he was left standing there awkwardly, unsure whether or not to sit down.
This was the problem with turning eighteen after everyone else. They’d already been coming to Club Nox, first while he had been writing papers and taking exams, and then while he was working at the library or reading alone in his room. Now summer was almost over and everyo
