Maybe Pete didn’t always know, or maybe he had, but when Brendon first told him, he hadn’t acted surprised and he didn’t treat Brendon any differently. He still blew on his face with morning breath before Brendon had had a chance to wake up, and still poked the bottoms of his feet when he fell asleep watching a movie. He still pinched him and gave him beer when Patrick wasn’t looking. He did ask what Brendon’s parents had named him. Brendon had stared at his hands and said, “Brenda, actually. Lame, I know. But it was easier than picking something totally new.”

Such a delicate boy. Such a hysterical world.