" It wasn't your pants they had a grip on when I looked under the table." Lesa was trying not to laugh at the poor boy. "Tell me why two girls would be fighting over your manhood in here. Are you that good?"Jacob worked his mouth like gasping fish, but no noise came out until he managed a squeaky, "Sorry." Gathering up his book bag and computer, he also beat a hasty retreat."Damn, that was clumsy of me," Lesa mumbled to herself. Knowing that it would be impossible to speak with him openly about the situation and especially the complaint the girls had expressed, she slipped a couple of books on human sexuality and sexual development into the stack of books he had left at the table knowing he would find them when he returned later that evening.A few days later she approached Jacob. "Excuse me. Allow me to apologize for jumping to conclusions and embarrassing you the other day. Please allow me to buy you a coffee, Mister... ?" When he only gave her a deer in the headlights look and made. I would get giddy when she would “ping” me in the chat window.In just over a week of chatting, almost at the same time, we both signed off with, “I love you.” It was a revelation. I had only said those three words, twice before, and both times, they were not heartfelt. They were just a thing to say, just words.I couldn’t explain why this was different, but it was. It was a feeling, an emotion, not just words. I was deeply in love with a woman that I had only chatted with online.Butterflies are pounding against my stomach walls; I take a deep breath, gathering up my courage, and enter the coffee shop. I quickly scan the area for a woman fitting her description: red hair, green eyes, and luscious red lips. My heart sinks as there isn’t anyone even close to that.She didn’t show up. I have been stood up many times before, but this cuts deep. A trans girl is a novelty, a fantasy, but when the reality of meeting one is upon them, there is fear, and they run for the hills.My shoulders.
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