You never fit in at all. Not in a “pick me” way, in a “who the hell am I?” Kind of way.

But somehow, you felt like you fit in with Hobie. He was a misfit, always causing trouble, but he could care less.

“I don’t believe in labels, but I get what you mean. Not feeling like you have a gender at all.” He shrugs, strumming his guitar idly.