There was one street in front of the train station. She figured that was probably a good place to start walking. She stepped out onto the sidewalk and the city hit her. Neon everywhere. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, hot pink -- queers welcome!, genderfuck you!, sex-positive!, punk!, grrrls! The city was fucking screaming!

A raindrop hit Katie -- smack -- right in the eyeball. She closed her eye and rubbed her eyelid with the back of her hand. Her vision cleared and she started walking.

It was raining at a steady pace and Katie’s cigarette was getting wet. She cupped it in her hand. She thought it felt super awkward to hold it that way, but it worked. It kept most of her cigarette dry, at least.

She paused on a street corner and took a deep breath. The wind changed direction and the city smelled sour. It changed direction again and the city smelled sweet. Katie smiled because it meant that she could breathe again.

It started raining harder. Katie took shelter under the awning of a tall building and hoped the raindrops would slow down. She expected the city to refuse her or to tell her that she didn’t belong there, but it never did.

Katie stayed there under the awning until the rain turned into a mist and then she stepped out onto the sidewalk again. She walked for what seemed like a very long time. She walked past graffiti-covered walls and under bridges. Shivering and drenched, she dropped her backpack, unzipped it, and pulled out a black hoodie.

Katie had been wearing the same clothes for a week and they weren’t even hers. Her hair was wet and wild. The pink streaks twisted with the darker hair and the strands clumped together and clung to her cheeks. She combed through it with her fingers, grabbed the hood of her jacket, and raised it up over her head. Katie zipped the jacket up to her neck, adjusted the backpack straps on her shoulders again, and walked some more.

The puddles made their way up her jeans. Each leg was like a wick. Every shift of her weight forced water to sssseep out of -- and ssssuck back into her black Converse Chucks.

Katie walked past second-hand stores and street art and small shops. She saw two women kissing on the sidewalk. They smiled at her when she got closer. Katie smiled back and kept walking. The women held hands and turned down a different street.

Katie spotted a coffeehouse on the corner and crossed the street. She slipped in through the door behind a group of people to have a quick look inside. There were rainbow flags hanging on the walls and posters that said Queer Safe Space behind the front counter. The people sitting at the tables looked like they were happy to be there. “Me and My Charms” by Kristin Hersh was playing at a volume that was almost too quiet underneath all of the voices, but Katie heard it.

Katie stood there for a few minutes before she noticed the message board on the wall. She wasn’t sure how she missed it when she first walked in. It was huge! She skimmed over the dozens of flyers that were attached to the board in just about as many different ways. Piano lessons -- staples. Dog walkers -- thumb tacks. Flea markets -- paper clips. Punk shows -- duct tape. And there it was! A bright yellow flyer.

Roommate Wanted! Must Be Queer/Ally/Open!!!!!

There was another flyer taped to the corner of that flyer. It was pink.

Dykes Do It Better!!!!! This Friday Night @ The Velvet Kitty Cat Club!

Katie tore the flyers down in one big motion. Frrrrip. She folded them up and shoved them into the front pocket of her backpack.

She left the coffeehouse in search of a payphone. The rain was hitting everything pretty hard, but no one seemed to mind. Katie didn’t see anyone with an umbrella.

Katie crossed one street and then she crossed the next. She got lost in the bricks on the sidewalk and followed the lines in between them. She skipped over imaginary boundaries and stopped to look at a slug. She crouched and watched the slug kind of ooze down the sidewalk.

A person walked by and she straightened up until they passed. She looked at the slug again.

For a little while, she forgot all about the reasons she had for getting on the train.

Katie finally found a payphone and reached into her bag. She pulled the flyers out and unfolded them. She kept the roommate flyer open, put the other one back, and found some change in her front pocket.

Fucking perfect.

The change trickled down the coin slot and Katie dialed the numbers that were printed on the flyer. Her hands shook while she held the receiver up to her ear.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered to herself.

She was about to hang up when someone answered.

“Hello?”

“Um,” Katie stumbled. “The flyer, um, sorry. Hi! Are you looking for a roommate?”

“Yeah, that’s us! Do you want to come by and see the place?” the person on the other end asked.

“Sure!”

“The address is 11 NW Ashcroft Street. We are all home right now. Rare event. Can you come over right now? My name is Drew, by the way!”

“Yes, I can! Uh -- I’m Katie.” She found the nub of an eyeliner pencil in her pocket and she used it to scribble the address down on an empty cigarette pack.

“Okay! See you soon!” Drew hung up first.