Looks like," I stammered outin surprise.But he was already standing and had his belt undone. The waist of hisshorts was giving way as he undid the top... buttons and he said, "Oh,it's OK. You're not getting the good show. But look," and his shortshit the ground.There my best friend stood, in a t-shirt and women's panties. Facingme, expecting me to see him, sharing the experience of losing hismanhood and becoming female. And he *was* changing, too. He held up hisshirt a bit so I could see his. They weren’t talking about actual dessert.“You’re not talking about actual dessert,” I said.Mandy laughed. “You’re gonna fit in with us real well,” she said.“Except in this case, you’re wrong,” said Margo. “We’re going to have my favorite, tres leches.”“Oh!” I said. “I love tres leches.”“Me too,” said Margo. “It is, you know, my birthday after all.” She let out a cute little laugh.I smiled and so did everyone else, and in that moment I really did feel comfortable with this fucked-up, beautiful. " It was not her doing," Miguel said, his eyes narrowing at his son's callous answer. "Regardless of what you think, no girl is asking for that to happen!"Chuck looked at his mother again in bewilderment."I did not say that anyone was asking for anything," Chuck said. "Dad, I have no idea what you're mad about."Miguel tried to push down his temper before he spoke again."The young woman who accompanied you to the dance last night was sexual assaulted by the young man whose teeth I replaced this. The man's grip was so feeble she felt as if she had been handed a limp sack of soft gelatin. The rest of him matched his handshake. He was about as tall as Steven Shein, but where Shein was hard, Milton Caldwell was soft. Shein was broad across the shoulders, narrow across the waist. The bank vice president reversed it, and had the contours of a pear.He was a study in pink and gray - gray hair, pink, round face, gray suit and vest. His tie and his hair seemed to have been color coordinated,.