Clay usually keeps a few crumbly old bills in his Desert Storm-era army jacket, and a quick search turns up a whole Hamilton. You're eating good tonight. The van creaks as you hop out with the tenner clutched in your hand and head for the Speedway's sliding glass double doors, eager to join the People of the Map, the people whose lives make sense.
The doors take a second to open, and you see your reflection. Ooh, that's not good. You look like an insane criminal, which you've gotten used to. But did you always look so driven, so furious? Staring back at you is a wild-eyed young—
Man.
Woman.
Nonbinary person.
Next