(Bloom is walking through a hallway in her high school. It’s the passing period between classes, and all manner of other students fill the halls around her, trying to get to their next classes. A girl she knows walks up alongside her in passing.)

Bloom (High school me): Oh hey! Do you want to study with me this weekend? I’ll have snacks…

(The girl gives Bloom an incredulous look and hurries away without a word. Bloom looks hurt, but turns to another nearby girl, undeterred.)

Bloom: Hi! I like that necklace, it’s really cute!

(The second girl backs away with a confused look and makes herself scarce without so much as a “thanks.” Bloom’s shoulders sag as the weight of rejection sinks in.)

Bloom (dejected): Why is this so hard?

Mom (Present me): Not having much luck, huh?

Bloom: No.

Mom: I’m sorry, Bloom. Try not to take it personally.

Bloom (tearful): Why don’t they want to talk to me? I’m a girl now, but they still treat me…

Mom: …like a boy that’s trying to get into their pants.

Bloom: Yeah. I mean sure, I’m into girls, but that’s not my goal here.

Mom: I’m not sure it ever was — or at least, dating was always part of that muddled mess of feelings I had for other girls.

Bloom: Right. And now that we’ve transitioned, my feelings aren’t muddled anymore. I just want to exist in their world with them.

Mom (somber): That’s all we ever wanted, in a way.

Bloom: I’m sorry to retread old ground — I know we’ve talked about this before. It’s just that… Now that I live as a girl, I figured I could revisit some old memories and see how things could have played out differently. But everything’s just the same as the first time around.

Mom: Sadly, yes. They’re memories, so they don’t really change.

Bloom: But I’m a memory, and I changed.

Mom: That’s… That’s different.

Bloom: How?

Mom: You’re not just a memory. Sure, you’re high school me, but you’re a version of high school me that’s been updated with my current knowledge and experiences. You’re much more than you were back then.

Bloom: So… Why can’t you make these other girls more than they were too?

Mom: Because I don’t have current knowledge or experiences of them. I don’t know what they’re like now, so I can’t update them in any way.

Bloom: You… You don’t keep up with anyone you knew in high school?

Mom (thinking): Well… No.

Bloom (sad): Oh.

Mom: I’ve caught up with a handful of college friends since transition. No-one from high school though. Well… No girls, anyway.

Bloom: But there was someone?

Mom: A while back, a guy I knew back then just happened to be in town. He reached out, I told him I was trans, and we met up for lunch.

Bloom (cautious): Uh… How did that go?

Mom: It was lovely! He and his partner were very affirming and it was fun to catch up.

Bloom: I suppose there wasn’t much chance he’d hit on you if his partner was there…

Mom (smiling): There isn’t much chance he’d hit on me regardless. He’s gay.

Bloom (surprised): Oh! I didn’t even think about that.

Mom: Yeah, our queer awareness was pretty weak back in high school.

Bloom (sheepish): Right. I mean, I know better now, but sometimes I forget.

Mom: It’s okay, Bloom.

Bloom (exasperated): Well this was a waste of time.

Mom: I’m sorry Bloom. It doesn’t have to be a total loss though.

Bloom: What do you mean?

Mom: I know it’s not quite what you were looking for, but… Do you want to meet my guy friend from back then?

Bloom (hopeful): You mean it? You’d arrange a meeting for me?

Mom: Of course, if you want.

Bloom: Yes please! I’d love to see him again.

Mom: Okay then, I can do that for you. In fact… Look; here he comes now.

(Bloom turns around to see a boy walking down the hallway towards her. She grins widely, walking to greet him as I smile and leave the two to catch up on their own.)