Making plans

You wheel the Bianchi out onto the paved path that runs alongside the pool. The afternoon sun is warm on your bare arms. You swing one leg over the frame, settle onto the narrow saddle, and—

Ow.

The seat presses directly against your tucked anatomy with an insistence that makes you wince. You shift your weight, try angling your hips, but there's no comfortable position. The road bike's saddle is a slim wedge of leather designed for someone whose body doesn't include what yours currently does between their legs.

You dismount quickly, cheeks flushing despite the empty yard.

Okay. Problem. A very real, very physical problem.

You lean the bike against the shed wall and head inside, brain already turning over solutions. A wider saddle? A different seat entirely? Something padded? You file it away for later—there has to be a bike shop or at least a hardware store in town that sells replacement seats.

The living room welcomes you with cool air and the familiar hum of HAVEN's climate control. You grab The Language of Cloth from where you left it on the coffee table and curl into the corner of the sofa, tucking your feet beneath you. Chapter eleven unfolds—"The Politics of Drape: How Fabric Shaped Social Hierarchy in Edo Japan." It's dense but fascinating, and you find yourself annotating the margins with observations about how kimono construction mirrors the rigid social codes of the period. No cramming urgency now. Just genuine curiosity.

After an hour of reading, you set the book aside and pull up Iris's referral email on your phone. Three options, each with a brief note in Iris's careful handwriting:

Dr. Elena Vasquez - Millbrook, in-person. Warm, thorough, specializes in young adult gender identity. My strongest recommendation.

Dr. Tomás Reyes - telehealth only. Brilliant diagnostician, very busy, waitlist can be long.

Clearwater Counseling Associates - group practice, evening sessions available, multiple providers.

All three have email addresses. You compose a message to Dr. Vasquez first—introducing yourself, explaining you're a recent graduate seeking gender identity support, asking about availability, sliding-scale fees, and the process for beginning sessions. You keep it professional but honest. I'm at the beginning of my transition and looking for guidance on next steps, including HRT evaluation.

You send similar emails to the other two, varying the wording slightly. Then you sit back, phone warm in your hands, and stare at the sent folder.

That's it. You've started.

The thought settles into you like a warm stone dropped into still water. Not dramatic. Not earth-shattering. Just... forward motion.

Your phone buzzes. A text from Priya:

hey riley!! margot said you got the job officially, congrats!! also wren found this amazing vintage shop in millbrook, we're thinking of going next saturday if you want to come??

You smile, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.