I felt like a character in a film but there was no script. Charlotte couldn’t sleep either. Mrs. M’s daughter leaned over the edge of her bed and...we talked about life in America, about the invasion, and a great many things that seemed a world away. Then she said I shouldn’t be sleeping on the floor. She said her bed was soft and big enough for us both. I had to refuse her offer, I knew it would be difficult to control myself lying next to her. In the faint light I could make out the line of. I'd been talked downto. Been arrested. Learned to skate.I'd fought a Cold War with other girls. A boy had tried to kiss me.I'd been objectified, belittled, admired. People had responded to me,reacted to me, listened to me as a girl. And through all of that,symbolized by my gift of blood, I had the potential to become a woman. Or not.For all the negative things Emily had told me tonight, I had to admitshe made the prospect of staying a girl seem pretty goddamn attractive.It's like she. More

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