I felt my bones freeze over once he said those words. Princess. Her. They cut like dagger into my lungs and lodged there. I tried to walk away but they stood in front of me. I backed up and hit a wall, feeling very uncomfortable all of a sudden.

"G-guys, please I just want to leave." I forced out.

"Guh, guh, guh, guh, guys!" He mocked, letting flecks of saliva hit my face.

"Stop it, just let me be on my way." I said carefully, still pressed against the wall.

"Oh, but we can't do that? Can we? You're one of those little freak perverts, aren't you? The special little snowflakes with mental disorders."

Oh God I was going to cry. It wasn't fair. We were trying to get away from all of this. I shouldn't be going through this anymore. This type of treatment should be done with. I can't cry. Not now.

I didn't say anything. I didn't want to provoke them any longer. That's what this was, some dumb teenage boy with something pent up inside him and he needed to take it out. It was his fault he was doing it in such a destructive manner and ultimately it would screw him over one day. Unfortunately, that day was not today.

"Quiet huh? Nothing to say?"

He turned back to his friends. "You want to know why?"

"It's because she know's she's wrong. She knows she's making it all up for attention. Her daddy probably left her all alone and her mommy probably hates her for it. I saw it on the news, it's science." Then he leaned back in, so close that I could smell his putrid, reeking breath. "You got daddy issues little girl?"

In the back of my mind I could see Dylan's face. The glint in his eyes. I stared at the boy with all the hate I could muster, then drew back my first and punched his brow as hard as I could. There was a loud crack and I felt pain shoot up my wrist. The boy stumbled backwards, yelping and holding his nose. Blood was trailing down his face from a small cut and from his nose. I gasped in pain, because my whole hand was in pain.

The boy shrugged off the hands of his friends of his friends and a scowl pulled at the corners of his lips. His whole face got a shade darker. I tensed, then tried to run, my feet slipping on the dirt covered concrete. They grabbed my hoodie and pushed me the ground, kicking me with as much force as they could muster. I cried out, feeling sharp feet dig into my back and head. This went on for what felt like ages until finally they stopped and I looked up to see Dylan was ripping them off me.

"Go pick on someone your own size you shriveled failure of human beings!" He yelled, watching as the three of them laughed and stalked off.

He grabbed onto my hand and lifted me up. "Are you okay? I came here as soon as I heard the noise. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."

I was still shaking and everything kind of hurt. "I'm okay. I need to sit down."

"Of course." He walked with me until we got back to the car.

By that time, I was limping. He opened up the trunk and pulled out a first aid kit. I sat on the back while he cleaned off any blood.

"You need to take your binder off." He asked softly. "It'll be really bad for you if you're bruised anywhere under it."

I bit my lip. "How long until I can wear it again?"

Dylan sighed slowly. "I don't know. A few days at least. We won't go out anywhere, you can just rest."

My face scrunched up in frustration. This sucked. Dylan shut the trunk and I changed out of my binder. Thank God for my hoodies because I just felt humiliated. I knocked on the window and he turned back around and reopened the car door. A few minutes later we both had our legs hanging over the edge of the car door, the brisk smell of old trees surrounding us, and with the periodic sound of cracking because Dylan had gotten out some chocolate. Gas station chocolate bars, so they were huge.

"Man, I feel like every time I take you out somewhere it just goes wrong somehow." Dylan sighed. "I'm sorry."

I shrugged. "It's not your fault."

"The carnival yesterday was, I ruined that one. I should have just come with you today or waited around the corner. Something."

"Well I'm seventeen, I think I can handle going to the bathroom by myself." I frowned, very miffed, and broke off another piece of chocolate.

"We're both transgender, nobody can handle us going to the bathroom by ourselves." He smiled wryly but it faded quickly and he resorted to staring at his sneakers.

He was right. I stared back up at the trees, my eyes straining to even see their crowns. I wish I was taller, like those trees. I wish I was older and didn't have to suffer through these years where I couldn't do anything about my situation. I wish I was a tree. Trees don't have genders. They don't have to worry about any of that. They're just ancient and wise and loved, most of the time.

I glanced over and my eyes landed upon Dylan's fingers. They were shaking slightly. I wonder if it was the adrenaline from having to beat someone up, or the lack of nicotine in his system. Probably the latter, because nothing seemed to scare him. Dylan was already like the trees, I wonder how he got there.

"How's your hand? You think it might be broken?" He touched my bandaged-up knuckles lightly.

I hissed. "Ah, ow. It doesn't feel broken. I think I just hit the guy's face really hard."

Dylan eyebrows flew up. "I can't believe I missed that. I bet it looked really cool."

"Heck yeah it did. It felt cool."

Dylan let out a snarky laugh, I glanced over at him. "What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. You're just the type of person who be all "violence is bad Dylan, I should have just ignored him and been the better man," You know."

I grinned silently to myself. "Yeah whatever. He kind of deserved it."

He pressed another damp washcloth to my face. I leaned back, startled. Partly from the intimacy and partly from the shock of the cold towel. He smiled nervously.

"Sorry, you still have dirt all over your face." A breeze slunk through the trees and rustled through his hair.

"I can do that." I took the towel from him and scrubbed my face.

He just laughed. "You're just rubbing it around dummy, here come on, just let me do it."

Dylan took it back and wiped my face gently, I didn't know where else to look while he was doing this, so I just kind of landed on his face. His honey-brown eyes. The color of a baby deer, with his blonde eyelashes. Then his eyebrows which were hot pink in the center and faded to blue near the ends. I wonder how he did that, I wonder how Dylan did anything.

I stopped when I realized Dylan was done and we had just been staring at each other for a few seconds. I looked away in embarrassment and felt the blush rush to my cheeks. Oh my God I can never look at him again. Despite the warning bells going off in my brain I sneaked another glance to see he was staring adamantly at his shoes again.

"Uh-um, hey." He stammered awkwardly. "Hey you know your dad? Do you know where exactly he lives? I figured we should start planning the details pretty soon."

I exhaled, glad we were moving on. "Uh... I don't know exactly but I know the neighborhood. His name is Daniel Gray, you know the director."

"Oh, huh. Man he is kind of famous." Dylan blinked. "Cool."

I stood up, stretched only a little bit because some of my joints still ached. Then headed for the shotgun door. All of a sudden Dylan grabbed my shoulder.

"Uh, where do you think you're going." He sang, pulling me around.

"I'm going to drive." I blinked, dumbfounded.

"No, you're going to relax, you just got beat up." He huffed in a protective manner and took my place.

I shrugged, which hurt, so his point was taken. Then I swung back into the shotgun seat. He twisted the car keys, the car rumbled to life, and we drove off. Disappearing once more into the sanctity of the old trees.