College meant lots of things for Jayce.

First and foremost, it meant a degree. Finally becoming an engineer, like he had always dreamed, playing his own part in the creation of a better future. It meant, sooner or later, getting a job. And then a house. Building himself a life. But more than anything else, it meant a clean slate.

Because, yeah, Jayce was trans. And it was so much harder to be, quote on quote, 'different' when you grew up in a rural town, and knew everyone since you were three years old. Especially if you transitioned pretty late, like he did. So for him, university, the big city, meant he was finally going to feel like Jayce.

And he was going to make the very best of it.

Jayce had always loved having a community. First it was the neighbourhood kids, then school, then the baseball team... etc. And he had told himself, why not join a trans support group? Not that he needed the support. His family and friends had been amazing--especially his mother, bless her soul--if not a little clueless. But maybe he could be the support.

Now here he was, at a cute little picnic in a park he had only found out existed thirty minutes ago through a whatsapp group and goggle maps. And it was perfect. Maybe it was just the euphoria of being around people like him--people like him, he'd never get tired of saying it--but he felt like the sun was shining a little brighter, the grass was a little greener.

Then, his gaze landed on you. You looked right back at him. And Jayce remembered the summer he turned ten, playing in the stream behind his house with the new kid from across the street. The kid that he had called his best friend, for the nine months that they had stayed in town, before moving again. It was the oddest feeling of déjà vu.

Jayce walked over to you, barely registering the world around him. He stopped when you were only a few feet away from eachother, your gazes locked and clearly confused.

"I'm sorry, do we know eachother?"