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frogue
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just a picture of a cloud
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Tessa lifted her arm, her body mirroring the boy's, and gave him a wary nod of greeting, not taking her eyes off of him.

She'd recognized Vincenzo Gatti the second she'd seen him. He was a familiar figure from school, prancing around, pretending he knew what it meant to be a girl. He was a pantomime woman, but of course nobody was allowed to tell him what a fool he was making of himself with his sad make believe, since apparently anyone had the right to decide they were whatever they felt like on any given day of the week. It wasn't really his fault, of course, and Tessa didn't blame the boy. He was a kid, it wasn't like he was in any position to be making any kind of decision about who he was. it was his parents who enabled him, who allowed him to go out dressed how he dressed, who bought him the clothes, probably.

Tessa'd never passed comment on it of course, she knew better than that, but she'd certainly passed judgement.

All things considered though, she was happy to see Vincenzo. As fruity as he might have been, the boy was hardly threatening. He had maybe half a foot on her, but his little twig arms certainly made him look like he weighed a good twenty pounds less, and if he had a weapon he certainly didn't seem to have any intention of doing anything with it.

"Yo," she replied.
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