Story's End

“And that’s… Well, that’s the story.” Layla slumps her shoulders, letting out a deep sigh.

Ethan stares at her dumbfounded, his brain trying to process the madness she had just dumped on him. The story was ridiculous, nonsensical even. He should be laughing, and yet…

“So you’re telling me the town is full of women with… dicks?”

“Oh! No, no,” Layla waves her hands. “Most of the women in town are, um, not like me. But I’m not exactly rare either.”

“And the whole town just knows this?”

Layla slowly nods. “Yes.”

“And I’m just learning about this now?!”

Layla shifts in her seat, eyeing the bottle of whisky. “Normally it falls to a parent to tell their children, in their own way in their own time. Other than that, we don’t share the news with… outsiders.”

“So why didn't my dad tell me? He knew I was moving here.” Ethan had just spoken to his father at the funeral.

“Your father,” her expression looks pained, “Well, would you have believed him if he told you?”

Ethan can’t argue that point. “So you really are…”

“I am,” she smiles weakly. “I’m one of the more outed ones in town. My past relationships left me rather… exposed. Many of the others are a bit more private about it, but will confide in those they trust.”

Looking at Layla, Ethan wonders if she’s implying something there.

“Do you have any questions? I don’t know everything, but I’ll do my best to answer.”