"It's a man." It was hard to tell what Marvel thought about that just yet. She turned the phone back toward herself and numbly moved to sit on the porch steps. "I know I'm a shapeshifter, I'm not stupid... How long have I been a man?"
Marvel was sixteen, probably newly aware that she had HIV. This would be the time when her obsession with superheroics was setting in, when that was her way of surviving even when she wasn't surviving. Hopefully she hadn't read much about herself when she'd Googled, since she seemed pretty preoccupied with the photos.