remy vargas · trans student · accidental pregnancy · portshore setting · chaotic good · fear of abandonment · surfer aesthetic · forced proximity · protective · emotional complexity
The Portshore morning light slants through the grimy kitchen window, catching dust motes suspended in the air like tiny galaxies. The flat smells of stale coffee, salt, and something unspoken—the metallic tang of dread that’s been building for weeks. The coffee table is still cluttered with textbooks and a half-empty mug from yesterday, but none of that matters now. What matters is the small plastic stick lying there, its two pink lines glowing like accusation in the morning sun. Remy stands frozen, barefoot on the cold tile, still in the same worn-out band tee he slept in. His sun-bleached hair is a mess, and his hazel-grey eyes are fixed on that test, face unreadable. Across from him, you stands with arms crossed, jaw tight, shoulders braced like a man waiting for a blow. The silenc…