As people finish eating, they bring their cleared trays over to a rolling cart that's parked along the back. Near it, Harry leans on the serving counter, talking to someone who I don't recognize.

Ever since he walked away from our table, I've been wondering what sort of tips and tricks he plans to show me. Will I be my true self by tonight? Or is that too much to hope for?

"You should go over to him," Marcy says, jutting her chin in Harry's direction.

Jenelle is still eating, but the rest of us are done. My plate is clean.

"Yeah, go," Tyree agrees. "We'll keep Marcy company."

My eyes shift over to Jenelle, who I catch watching Marcy. Something twinges in my gut.

Again.

Why am I feeling jealous? If Marcy was interested in dating women, I would know that about her. Wouldn't I?

We know everything about each other.

I'd always assumed that once I had a male body...

Marcy nudges me before I can finish my thought.

Shit. Was I staring?

"Sorry," I mutter. "I–I just hope I don't disappoint Harry. All this tech stuff is so new."

Even though that wasn't what was occupying my mind, it's still true.

Marcy smiles at me, melting away my fleeting insecurity. "Look at how much you've already accomplished. You're going to do great."

I match her smile, and as I look into her warm, brown eyes, my creeping jealousy fades away.

"Yeah, yeah, I shouldn't worry." I stand. "Okay, you guys have fun. Let me know what I miss."

Then, without delaying any further, I walk over to drop off my tray.

As I approach, I hear Harry whispering something about Sequoia. I don't catch the whole sentence, but he definitely said her name and something about muscle. Whose muscle or what muscle, I don't know.

I assume it has something to do with the noise earlier, and I want to hear more, but I stop a respectful distance away. I don't need to come off as too nosy or rude.

Harry looks over at me. "Hey, Charlie. You ready?" he asks, his voice carrying a hint of excitement.

I nod, and my stomach flutters in anticipation.

He says a quick goodbye to the person he was talking to and leads me back to the escalator. We take it to the first floor, walk through the atrium, down the main corridor, and around to a part of the building I haven't yet explored.

After a few minutes, Harry comes to a stop in front of a plate-glass window decorated with red, blue, and white stripes, and an old-timey mustache. Gold lettering on the door confirms this is a barber shop.

Harry holds up a ring of keys, selects one, and unlocks the door. As it swings open, he flips on the light, revealing antique mirrored walls and a row of gleaming chrome and black leather chairs. I step over the threshold and am embraced by the scent of aftershave and leather.

Harry gestures to one chair. "Take a seat."

I step onto the checkerboard tiles and my eyes scan over a small shelf of pomades, gels, and tonics as I settle into the plush leather.

As soon as I'm seated, Harry swivels the chair around, and I am confronted with my own anxious face staring back at me from the mirror. He drapes a thin robe over my clothes and then pumps the chair up to bring me to his eye level, and I watch as my light brown ponytail swishes with the movement.

My face seems so feminine compared to his. My soft eyebrows, rounded cheeks, and pink lips all scream of femininity. Delicate. Smooth. Were his dark brows always thick, his jaw always wide? Or is that all tech? Gene-hacking? Nanobots? I don't even know what all the options are.

Will he teach me how he did it? How he transitioned himself?

A flash of silver draws my attention back to the moment. Harry holds a pair of shears in his right hand; his left hand gently scoops my ponytail. He grasps my hairband between his thumb and forefinger and pulls it down an inch. Then, without a word, just a smile, he brings the scissors to my ponytail, and severs it with one swift motion.

The weight of my hair falls away, and I can't help but gasp.

He holds up my ponytail like a trophy as the loose ends of my hair fall freely around my face.

"Nothing advanced about that," he says with a smirk. "A haircut, a binder, and more masculine fitting clothes can be transformative on their own."

I reach my hand out from under the robe and rub at my now-naked neck. The rest of my hair falls around my face, the ends tickling my nose.

"Don't worry, we're not done yet." He picks up a spray bottle and mists my hair as he combs it through. "See how just a little water makes your hair appear darker? Straighter?"

I nod.

"That's what simple wearable tech is like. The kind most people play around with their first few days here. The changes you can make are both gentle and fleeting. Just like this mist."

He sprays a cloud of thin water droplets above my head to demonstrate his point.

"And that mist will make you look different, but only until it dries, and then you look exactly how you did before. Make sense?"

I think about the fleeting change I had made to my hands. The subtle tingle on my skin, just like how the cold water on my hair drips down my now-exposed neck.

"Yeah," I answer. "That makes sense."

Harry puts down the spray bottle and comb and picks the shears back up. Running his fingers through my much shorter hair, he snips away with precision. Bits of wet hair drop and cling to my robe.

"Then there are nanobots. They are more like getting your hair cut or dyed."

I watch as he trims and styles the top. Making me look more like myself—more male—with every cut.

"As amazing as this haircut might look when I'm done," he says, smiling, "it won't last forever. Your hair will grow back. It needs maintenance. And the same thing with nanobots. The effect will fade if you are not vigilant."

"How often?" I ask.

"Depends," Harry says as he puts down the shears and grabs a buzzer. He snaps on a bright orange guard, then clicks a button, bringing it to life. "Nanobots are really best for healing. They work with your body to fix a problem and then they're done. If you use them to work against your body, to make a change that your own cells will keep trying to undo, well, that would take a lot of nanobots in your system, and even with an advanced neural interface, it would take a sustained effort to keep everything going consistently."

"So, how do you do it?" I ask, mesmerized by the transformation happening in the mirror as he shapes the sides and back of my head.

He pauses, letting the buzzer rest for a moment. "I did wear temporary tech in the beginning because more permanent changes take time."

I'm filled with questions, but I limit myself to two. "Like, how long? What do I have to do?"

"Could take years," Harry answers. "And that's because fundamental change, that's deeper. It's like when your hair goes gray. It's a permanent change, driven by hormones and chemistry. You can cover it up, but at the root, that strand is silver. That's what I did. And now, even if they took away my control over my bioenhancements, my body would remain male."

I nod, even though I don't know what he means. "So, to truly become a man..."

"You'd have to kick-start those natural processes in your body." Harry turns off the buzzer and clicks off the guard. "You know, increase your testosterone levels. Make changes at a genetic level... Look down."

He pushes my head forward and carefully shaves off the blonde hairs on the sides of my neck. After a moment of quiet concentration, he steps back to admire his handiwork. "So?"

I almost don't recognize the face staring back at me from the mirror. "Wow," is all I can mutter as I rub my fingers over the soft fuzz of the sides and back.

Harry laughs as he picks up a blow dryer. "Marcy's not gonna be able to keep her hands off you, you stud."

My cheeks flush. "We're–um, we're not..."

He cocks a brow and holds up the blow dryer. "Coulda fooled me," he says as he turns it on.

Tiny hairs go flying from my shoulders and neck and I close my eyes as the hot air soothes my embarrassed skin.

Then, when the noise stops, I take a deep breath and look at my reflection. It's so close to what I want it to be. Then I glance back down at my still-feminine hands. "I always thought that once I was a man–"

"You've always been a man," Harry cuts me off. "This is where it counts." He taps his head.

"But you know what I mean."

"Of course. Once you had the body." He nods. "And you will."

"Well, I always figured that's when I would tell her how I feel, but..." As my voice fades away, I shrug.

"You guys risked your lives for each other yesterday. That speaks volumes." He undoes my robe, hangs it on a hook, and starts sweeping the floor, giving me a second to let his words sink in.

It's true, what he said, so maybe I should just tell her how I feel. She chose to give up everything for me. Does that mean she reciprocates my feelings? And if so, what am I waiting for?

Maybe tonight should be the night.

After a minute, he's done. I'm still staring at myself in the mirror, amazed at how something as simple as a haircut has completely transformed my appearance. Why hadn't I done this before? There are no laws in the city against women having short hair.

I don't have an answer for myself.

Harry puts a hand on my shoulder. "I'll teach you the permanent stuff once you master the basics."

"Sounds good," I agree.

"Based on what I saw this morning, I have a feeling you'll be ready in no time."

My ears grow hot from the compliment.

"I've got a feeling about you, Charlie." He winks at me. "But for now, the key with both wearable tech and nanobots is that the more you do, the harder it is, and the less time it lasts. So, you need to prioritize."

I nod, relieved that he's stopped asking about Marcy.

"Don't waste your energy on things that have non-tech solutions. Like, when we're done here, we'll get you some clothes. You'd be surprised at how simple things help you pass better."

"Pass?" I don't know the term.

"You know, look like someone who was born male." He smiles at me, warm, like he gets it.

"Oh, yeah." It's so weird talking with someone who is like me but knows so much more. Is this what having an older brother is like? "So, what changes would you suggest?"

***

It's late when Harry walks me back to my room; the same temporary room where I slept the night before. Stars twinkle through the glass ceiling of the atrium, and the corridors are eerily silent.

Once we get to the doorway, he turns away, flashing me a double thumbs up before disappearing around the bend, no doubt wishing me good luck with Marcy.

I hesitate before putting my hand on the doorknob. The hand that I barely recognize as my own. Thick, wiry hairs sprout across its back and along each finger. A vein bulges from my index finger down to my wrist.

The hand I was supposed to have if I had been born with a male body.

I take a deep breath, feeling a surge of confidence to finally make my move with Marcy.

Before I can rotate the doorknob, it turns for me. Someone pulls the door open.

"Hey, Mar–" I begin, but the name catches in my throat as my eyes meet Jenelle's.

"Oh, hey Charlie," she says, her voice flat. She flashes me a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "I was just leaving."

My heart constricts. What's really going on with Jenelle and Marcy?

Have I missed my chance?