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Dakota was still asleep, he was in a tank top and boxers, snoring so loud the neighbors swore they felt the building shake. Cavendish attempted to wake him up, but it didn't work too well.
"Dakota it's ten thirty, wake up. We have to get going!" Cavendish sighed and pushed Dakota off the couch. Dakota cling to his thin blanket and grumbled something. "Come on! Wake up!" Dakota groaned and stood up, yawning and stretching. "And change that tank top for heavens sake, it's filthy. I know you have more."
"Yeah yeah, okay," He removed the tank top and looked for a clean one, and at this time, Cavendish had looked over to make sure he wasn't just putting the same one back on, and noticed a red line across his chest.
"What's that from?" Cavendish paused, and chewed his tongue a moment. "Is that from one of the times I-," Dakota turned his head quickly, his eyes wide in fear.
"No."
"What happened? Did someone hurt you?"
"No," Dakota looked back and found a clean tank top.
"Where's it from then?"
"Does it matter? Don't we have to leave soon?" He threw the top on his shoulder and looked for his sunglasses. "Where are those things?" He growled.
Cavendish walked over and reached his hand onto Dakota's shoulder. Dakota flinched and forced himself to stay still. "You can tell me, is it something that happened when you were younger?"
"Stop prying, Cavendish. It's none of your business. Let's just get going? I found my glasses."
Cavendish removed his hand. He sighed. "Okay, let's go. Get your tracksuit on already."
Dakota hurriedly got dressed and they left. But in the car, Cavendish kept prying. "Did you fall off something?"
"No."
"Are you gonna tell me?"
"No."
"Is it a medical thing? It looks stitched."
Dakota swallowed, a lump got caught in his throat. "That's none of your business."
"Dakota, I'm just worried. I don't want you to have to carry anything alone, let me help."
"No, Cavendish, I'm fine. There's nothing there. Okay? It's a birthmark. Okay? Gosh, just, leave it. Can you do that? I mean, help me carry things? Just, just stop. I can carry plenty. I can carry you dying all the time, I can handle my childhood, I don't need you to know I had top surgery! So shut up! Leave it alone!"
Cavendish stopped asking. "You had.."
He looked away, and stopped the car at a red light. "You're.."
"Stop it, no, you don't need to," Dakota hugged his stomach and looked away. "Just leave it."
"You're..." Cavendish chewed his cheek, staring at the road.
"Okay so we're talking about this. Yes. I am. I am transgender. I wasn't born a man, but I am one. Happy? I admitted it. Now leave it."
"I'm sorry."
"Stop the car."
The car screeched to a halt and nearly hit the traffic ahead. Cavendish slapped a hand onto Dakota's chest. "Good heavens," Cavendish straightened his tie.
"How far away is this place?"
"Not far!"
It took a few seconds and seven minutes, and they were at a random spot in a nearby desert.
"One of these jobs again, huh?" Dakota commented, and he and Cavendish grabbed their trash grabbing sticks, Dakota pulled on his headphones and soon they both were returning to business as usual.