Rock Star Makeover, Part 9:
 
Author's note: Here's chapter 9. Enjoy, and make sure you tip your waitress, er, I mean, leave a comment....

Monday, during lunch, Gabbi had a pensive expression, “Whats up?” I asked.

“This note got left in my locker this morning.” She handed me the note, and I read it.

“‘I’m like you’? What do you think it means?” I asked.

“The only thing that makes sense is that they are transgendered.” she said.

“I guess that would be cool. But who, and why send you the note?”

“I don’t know who, but obviously, someone who feels not ready to fully come out yet.”

“What can we do?” I asked.

“I can’t see that we can do anything at the moment. Unless they give us some way to contact them, we’re helpless to help them.”

“That doesn’t sit well with me, Gabbi.”

“I understand, Noah. But I can’t see what else we can do.” She said.

“Okay.” I said, and we finished our lunch.

The rest of the day, I had my radar up, trying to see who it might be, but had no luck. At the end of the day, I told Gabbi what I had been doing, and she giggled at me.

“What, Gabbi?”

“Noah, there probably no way to find them unless they made the first move. There is no “type” of person who struggles with their gender. Some start acting obviously feminine at an early age, some go all macho to try and fight against it.

Some even become bullies, translating self-hate into hate of anyone who demonstrates the qualities they hate in themselves.”

“I guess that makes sense, Gabbi.” I said.

“There isn’t even any guarantee that it was a guy feeling like a girl. It could be someone going the other way.”

“Really Gabbi?” I asked.

“I’m afraid so.”

“I guess we’re stuck until they make another contact.”

“Probably. I have posted a email people can use to contact me on the school’s page, with the permission of the principal. Maybe they will get a hold of me that way.” She said.

“Isn’t that a bit … well, you could get a lot of hate mail, or viruses, or anything.”

“It’s not my home mail. Its a separate account, one the school made. The school already scans it for viruses before I read it. And I … am getting better at dealing with hate mail.”

“Okay, Gabbi. You want to check now, before we go home?”

“Might as well.”

We went to the library, accessed the school’s connection to the ‘net with the librarian's permission, and she went to the mailbox she had created. I looked over her shoulder as she read the messages left for her. There were a bunch of variations on “You rock, girl!”, a bunch that were along the lines of “I don’t understand, can you explain what you’re doing?”, and then....

“Bible verses?” I said aloud.

“Been getting a few of these a day since I opened this mailbox.”

“Sorry Gabbi.”

“Its okay. At first, I tried to send some kind of response, but they … dont want to hear anything I have to say. Makes me ashamed of my faith, at times.”

“I know what you mean, Gabbi. I’m glad our church is okay with you. I would hate to have to not be able to go because they couldn’t accept you.”

“I’m glad too. I’ve talked to others like me who are Christians. It helps to know I’m not the only one.”

“Me too hon. But any sign of our mystery person.” I said.

“Yeh. But look at this, its from the principal.”

“Open it, Gabbi.”

She did, and it said, “Here is some news that might interest you.” with an attachment. She opened the attachment, and read. “I don’t believe it.” she said.

I read it twice. “Cathy Mason is coming here? To play a concert?” I asked.

“Looks like, “ she said, “And look! there is a note at the bottom.”

It was from the principal, and it read “Mrs. Mason asked me to pass this along to you Gabbi. And she asked me to tell you two front row tickets are waiting for you and Noah. She has also given me a email address you can leave your contact information with. Apparently, she’s hoping you can act as a guide while shes in town.”

Gabbi stood up and squeezed me hard. “Isn’t that the coolest, Noah?”

“The coolest.” I said.