Izzy could use a good cry, but what good would that do? He felt like a walk. And when he took a step out of the row house, it finally sank in that he was not who he was. Yet, still Izzy.
He took off to the soccer field by the park. No need to find his way to a pub. He could see what that had done for Dev. Nothing much. He was stuck. Perhaps always would be, for all Izzy knew. But this was a chance. He had to think of it like that.
But what could he do? How could he explain? Mum would be weird out just as much as Beth. It didn't seem likely he'd be in her good graces. He was just mad. He had somehow done this to himself. Evidently.
Izzy just couldn't go back and look at photos of who he was. Pictures of her. It was as if he'd lost her. And he didn't know how to mourn her properly. Was that what being a male was all about? Shrugging it off. Going on.
He didn't believe that, either. He could see the emotional termoil in Dev's face. He'd so let him down and what was worse was the thought of letting him go. Saying goodbye and wondering if they'd ever speak to each other again.
Maybe misery did love company. But Izzy felt so alone. He felt as if he had to be a part of the night, coming round him, thick with summer, a slight ache of what was left of spring at his feet soaked in the grass. He fell to the ground to catch a look at the stars. This could really be exciting if he let it, but the thought of leaving behind another life gripped him at his throat. It just might choke the life out of him.