To escape my father’s custody, I decide to run away. A carefully planned plan that falls apart the moment the truck driver catches me—I’m hiding in the back of his vehicle. Because of my loose clothes and the fact that my hair is hidden under my hat, he thinks I’m a guy: «— Something wrong? — No, — I quickly answer. — I’m just… — Aren’t you one of those? — he smirks, dipping a nugget in ketchup. — Of those? — You’re a guy, right? — I nod. — Why were you staring at me? — I mumble, «Sorry,» and fall silent. For some reason, next to Taras, the logical chain in my head builds with a delay. The moment I realize what “those” he meant, I flare up and immediately start justifying myself. — I’m normal, it’s just that you’re… big.» I close my eyes and mentally call myself an idiot. Guys don’t talk like that. I’m sure that if Idа’s brother had been in my place, he wouldn’t have talked to him even on a «you». I glance back at Taras again—he doesn’t know anything, right? »