Scott Taylor Miller is tired of being known as Snotty. On New years Day he resolves to take control of his life and make himself into Taylor. However, Scott is unaware that his new asthma medicine will change him in ways he cannot foresee. Forces both within and without will try to define him. If he doesn't want to be Snotty any longer, ...just who exactly is Taylor? The Taylor Project Part 15 by Tracey Willows Copyright © 2013 Tracey Willows All Rights Reserved.

 
The Taylor Project
 
Chapter Forty-One

Hailey held me while I sobbed. Grandma and Rick’s high volume confrontation came to an end punctuated by a slamming door. I stopped crying to listen in. I expected to hear a screech of tires as Rick pulled out, but all was quiet. In fact it was too quiet. Suddenly the previous events caught up to me. “Oh God, what have I done? I can’t believe I did that. I yelled at Grandma. I flashed Rick.”

“Nah, you only half-flashed him. You still had your bra on. You would have shown more skin in a bikini.”

Bikini? “I was still insane. Rick will tell everyone. I pissed off Grandma. We were supposed to stay calm and ride it out.”

“I thought it was brilliant,” said Hailey without a hint of mockery.

“Are you nuts? I don’t know what I was thinking, but I screwed up so badly.”

Hailey giggled and smiled at me. “Oh Taylor, you still have so much to learn about being a girl. You think I haven’t ever gone off like that? Didn’t I tell you never to underestimate the power of a well-timed hissy fit? What you did might not have been head smart, but it was so female that you knocked them both off their feet.”

“Really?” Female? Wasn’t that sexist? Didn’t guys have temper tantrums, too? The worst tantrum I’d ever seen had been thrown by an ADHD boy off his meds. Still, I felt perversely proud to have gained girl cred in Hailey’s eyes for acting, well… hormonal.

“Really,” confirmed Hailey. “Remember, I was the one who wanted you to come out to Rick anyway. That may not have been the best way to do it, but it got the job done. As for your grandmother, she’s been punishing both of us as much as she can get away with. Never throw a hissy fit to get something like: ‘I want a pony.’ That never works, but when adults try to push too hard, a good hissy fit can make them back the hell off.”

“Hailey, I never seen you throw a hissy fit.”

She shrugged. “I used to both when we lived with my dad, and just after momma and I moved out. Things weren’t so good then. My therapist helped me with those. She also helped me figure out why I did them – because my parents weren’t listening to me. When Momma started listening, guess what, the hissy fits stopped. Taylor, they haven’t been listening to you. Sometimes you have to make some noise to be heard.”

“OK, that makes a weird kind of sense.” Although I still thought that I had screwed up by outing myself to Rick. “So what do we do now? What if Rick tells someone?”

“We cross the Rick bridge later. It sounds like they’ve stopped fighting. You’d better get dressed up. You tossed down an ultimatum about dressing as Taylor. You had better follow through.”

Ultimatum? Oh right, I’d told Grandma that I was going to dress appropriately. “You think so? Wouldn’t my dressing up as a girl only make things worse?”

She shook her head. “No, I think it is high time you went on the offensive. In fact let’s go all out. I’ll go get my Sunday dress.”

“Alright.” I still wasn’t sure about this, but since I’d already stepped waist deep into the brown stuff, I might as well do it in a dress.

Chapter Forty-Two

We’d both expected Grandma to pay us a visit shortly, but it was Rick who barged in on us without bothering to knock. “Oh my fucking god. What the fuck are you wearing now, you fucking fairy?”

“Drop enough f-bombs?” I hadn’t yet started to apply the makeup in my hand, so I put it down and turned to Rick pretending that I was calm. I missed the moxie I’d felt earlier when I flashed him. I wasn’t in that same fearless place. My heart was skipping beats like a one-handed drummer, yet somehow I held it inside. Trying to project a calm that I didn’t feel, I gave him the best icy glare I could muster. “It’s Hailey’s Sunday dress. You should know that; you’ve seen it before.”

“What the fuck are you thinking, Snott? You’re going to get the shit kicked out of you at school when this gets out.”

“I’m thinking that this looks pretty good on me. What do you think Rick?” I stood up and turned around modeling the dress for him.

“It’s a fucking dress!”

Poor Rick. Honestly, I might have thought it was just a ‘cute’ dress a few days ago. Since my girl lessons, I appreciated that it really suited Hailey better than me. The dress technically had a hot pink base, which should have worked for me. Vibrant tones were part of the 'recommended color palette' for my 'cool winter' color season. However, a white lace ‘chocheted overlay’ covered up the hot pink base so that little pink showed through. That muted the hot pink so it almost looked like a deep rose instead, which softened the shading to better suit Hailey’s coloration. Regardless of the color scheme, it was still a cute dress with a 'belted A-line' flaring skirt, 'crew neckline' and 'keyhole back'. While Hailey had a bit more bust than I did, I could fill it out. The color didn’t entirely suit me, but I most definitely looked like a girl wearing it.

Focusing on how the dress looked helped me remain calm despite Rick’s barrage of uninventive profanity. There was something in his tone that said freaked-out instead of angry. Maybe it was some little sibling instinct, but I knew that seeing me like this was getting to him like nails on a chalkboard. The Scotty part of me was terrified, but the Taylor part of me sensed that in some strange way she had the upper hand. So I simply shrugged at him. “Yes, but how does it look on me? Hailey, what do you think?”

“It does look good on you, but that’s not what I was thinking.” She looked at Rick with cold dislike. “I was thinking that someone has a potty mouth and shouldn’t come into bedrooms when the doors are closed. You should get a lock on your door, Taylor. I’m certainly going to be asking for one.”

Rick snarled at Hailey. “Don’t you start with me. You’re encouraging him in his freak behavior.”

“Hailey, could I borrow your shrug? I think this dress would look better with it.” I wondered if I kept pushing his buttons if Rick’s head would explode. Maybe I was still being a little nuts, but it felt like I had discovered some kind of power, some kind of kryptonite, that I’d never had before. Maybe it wasn’t smart. He could still out me, but after all the grief Rick had given me I couldn’t resist pushing his buttons. Besides, I might have to listen to Dad, Julie and even Grandma, but Rick wasn’t on the short list of people who got to tell me what to do. He could yell and swear all he wanted, but I suddenly realized he couldn’t make me do anything.

Hailey gave me a warm smile and handed over her pale yellow-ish 'buttermilk' shrug. “Sure, no problem.”

I slipped Hailey’s 'elbow sleeved Bolero' shrug on and deliberately studied the result in the mirror. It didn’t really help. It still suited Hailey better, but this was all really just a show for Rick anyway. I turned back to him trying to do that coldly aloof thing Hailey did to him. “Why are you here, Rick? You must have heard this from Grandma by now. So did you just come in here to insult me?”

“Insult you? You’re insulting yourself, parading around like that. I came to talk some sense into you. This is a major mistake. There's no coming back from this. As soon as word gets out, you’re gonna get pulped. Why are you doing this? You complain about being bullied and then dress like this. It's like waving red in front of a bull.”

“More like waving pink in front of them. Not that the shade matters. Cattle are colorblind anyway.” Cows were, but neanderthals like Rick weren’t. “I get your point, but I have to run the gauntlet every day already. I don’t think it can get that much worse. Or are you threatening to rat me out?”

“Rat you out? Who talks like that? I’m not gonna tell anyone. I’m trying to protect you, dumbass. Do you know what kind of shit I put up with for your sake already? I’m warning you now, Snotty. I’m not going to say anything, but I’m also not going to protect you from the shit storm this is going to stir up. You’re on your own. Do the smart thing, pass this off as a joke. Get the hormones Grandma was talking about. Work out some, for Christsakes. I’ll even help you.”

“I’ll have you know that I have been working out.”

“Working out what? Your tits? You’re a freak, Snotty, but it isn’t too late to get help.”

Hailey glared at Rick. “He’s got help. He’s got me. It’s sad that I’ve known Taylor only a few months, and I know her better than you do. You’re not really a part of this family, are you? Why don’t you go run off like you usually do? This is the most you’ve spoken to her all week. Not that you’re really talking to her now. You’re yelling at her. Taylor was right about you. This isn’t about her. It’s all about you, isn’t it Rick?”

“Wow, what she said... and she’s right. Go hang out with your friends or hump whatever your current flavor of the month is.”

Rick looked pissed. “I’m not leaving until you see the light. Think you can make me, pussy?”

There was no way I could physically remove him, nor did I intend to play by his rules. I yelled out, “Grandma, I’m trying to change clothes and Rick won’t leave. The pervert is staring at my boobs.”

“She’s half deaf and on the phone with the reverend.” Rick folded his arms and looked smug. “And I’m not looking at your man boobs, faggot. You might be into shit like that, but I don't stare at boys.”

I gave them a jiggle on purpose. “You are so staring, perv. Fine, I’ll go tell her then.” I tried to slip past him.

Rick stuck out an arm and blocked my path. “See, that’s your problem Snotty. You’ve got one move, tattle. What're you gonna do when there are no adults around? Maybe I should kick your ass and give you a taste of what you’ll get at school.”

Despite him blocking my path and hinting at kicking my ass, it still felt like just words to me. There was something in the way he was standing that said he was a wall that wouldn’t budge. Rick was certainly capable of fighting, and he definitely was an ass, but for years his hostility had been limited to things like wedgies and noogies. He’d even protected me on some occasions. “Rick. You’re not going to beat me up. Whether you can admit it or not; I’m a girl. I think a part of you knows that. You’ve never hit a girl in your life, and I don’t think you’re going to start by hitting me. This is my room and I want you to go now.”

“You’re not a real girl. You’re just a fag in a dress. That makes it OK to hit you.” For a moment there was a bit of fire in him, and I worried I’d taken it too far, but he didn’t move. He just stood there, blocking my doorway and not leaving. “You really shouldn’t push me, Snotty. I don’t hit girls, but I don’t hit wimps either, not even my wimpy fag of a brother. Maybe I should make an exception. It would even be a favor. I wouldn’t hurt you as much as they will at school, but you still don’t get it, do you? Besides, getting a good asskicking isn’t what you really need to worry about. It’s what happens after. What will you do when they decide that since you’re a faggot, you might as well suck cock or spread your ass? Are you ready for that, Snotty?”

I could all too easily imagine that kind of scenario with Kevin Grutz. In the past rape had just been a scary word. Rape was wrong, even evil, but I’d always thought of rape as something only girls had to worry about, not me. Suddenly it wasn’t just a word. It was all too easy to picture myself as the victim. The pretty dress I was wearing didn’t feel like armor any more. I felt dirty and unclean just thinking about being forced. “Get out. Get out. Get out!”

“You sick bastard!” screamed Hailey charging towards Rick and getting in between my brother and me. “She’s your sister. How dare you threaten to rape her?”

Rick focused on her but still didn’t budge. “I didn’t say me. I said others. It happens to faggots all the time. That’s the path you’re putting him on. Hell, even if they don’t force him, that’s the path he’s heading down. He’s gonna be a cocksucking fairy.”

Slap! Hailey’s hand cracked across Rick’s face. “Asshole!”

Rick froze for a moment, then stroked his cheek. He looked more surprised than angry, and Hailey looked even more surprised than he did. She opened her hand and stared at it like she didn’t recognize her own hand.

“Rick? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Before my eyes Hailey started to break down and cry. “I’m not like him. I’m not.”

I suddenly realized she wasn’t talking about Rick, but her father. I ran to Hailey and hugged her, ignoring Rick. “You’re not like him. You’re not. You’re right, Rick was being an asshole.”

Rick rubbed his scruffy jaw. “Why is she crying? She hit me. I didn’t lay a finger on her.”

I kept stroking and reassuring Hailey who was having a meltdown. As I held her I gave Rick a dirty glare. “Go. You’re not welcome here.”

Rick raised his hands. “I didn’t touch her. I’ll go, but you should think long and hard about what I said.” He left, closing the door behind him.

Chapter Forty-Three

I don’t know how many crying jags Hailey has helped me through, but I’d only seen her breakdown once before when she told the story of her abusive father. Still, I found comforting her to be very natural. I just sat with her and repeated things like: ‘You’re not like him’, ‘It’s OK,’ and ‘Rick went too far; he earned that slap.’ The last one finally got her attention.

“It’s never OK to hit someone. No matter what they say, it is just words. That’s what my therapist said. Physical violence is a line you simply can’t cross... and I crossed it. He was a rude asshole, but I’m the one that crossed the line.”

I had the strongest feeling this wasn’t really about Rick; it was about her father slapping her. In Hailey’s mind physical violence had become a line that must never be crossed: That was why her mother had been justified in leaving, that was why she was so upset when Grandma had threatened to spank me, and that was why she was freaking out now. Rick had been all bark and no bite. She’d struck first.

Actually, no, that wasn’t quite true. “He crossed the line first, Hailey. I asked him to leave more than once, and he wouldn’t go. I tried to get by and he wouldn’t let me. If a person won’t leave and won’t let you leave, then they’re over the line. Nobody should have to just stand there and be insulted. We tried to leave. He wouldn’t let us go, and he kept on and on.”

“Maybe,” she replied. She didn’t sound convinced. “But if it's OK to hit people for just words they say and being stubborn, then where is the line? I wish I could talk to my therapist.”

“Can you call her?”

“I have her number, but I’m only supposed to use it in case of emergencies.”

I might have laughed if it wasn’t so serious. “Hailey, this is an emergency.”

Hailey sighed. “It doesn’t matter. It’s on my cell phone. Do you think your grandmother would let me use it?”

“Probably not, you know what she said about therapists.” For that matter where was Grandma? Had she really not heard Rick and us getting into it, or had she chosen to ignore him? “I’ll go ask her.”

Hailey laid her hand on mine. “Don’t. Just stay. I don’t have the energy for another round of arguments right now. Let’s just stay in your room awhile.”

I nodded my agreement. “Sure, we can do that.” Hailey’s breakdown really made me aware just how much of our friendship was about me. It had been more balanced at the beginning, but from the time I’d first crossdressed as Taylor it had become mostly about me. I’d neglected to be a good friend for Hailey. That wasn’t fair to her. I stayed with her and focused on her. We talked about her life: her friends back in Whistlestop, how she really felt about joining our family, and more. Surprisingly it wasn’t her friends she worried about. While she had friends, many of them had deserted her when her mom got divorced. She’d moved out of a nice neighborhood and into a trailer park and apparently that hadn’t been good enough for most of her friends. She had a few that remained true and she would miss them, but she was more worried about her cat. Mouseytongue, aka Mao Tse Tung, aka Mr. Chairman, was an indoors cat. I didn’t have any good answers for her. With my allergies I couldn’t live with an indoor cat, but we had plenty of room outside. Mostly I just listened. That’s what she’d always done for me, after all.

Chapter Forty-Four

Saturday, March 16th — Taylor Project Day 74 (like it matters)

Dad and Julie get back tomorrow.

I feel like I know what it means to be in a fortress under siege. My room is my safe haven, and Hailey and I spent most of today locked in. Mostly we’re avoiding Grandma. Rick has been gone who knows where. He hasn’t spoken to either me or Hailey since yesterday. At least he said that he wouldn’t tell. I'll just have to hope he doesn’t say anything.

In my room I can be Taylor. Outside my room I have to be Scott. The worst part was the terribly awkward two hours when Grandma took me in to get a couple tubes of my blood drawn, and I peed in a cup. Hailey came with us, of course. I don’t think Grandma trusts either of us alone.

I’m sure Grandma knows I’m dressing as Taylor in my room, because she doesn’t come in. She knocks on the door when she wants us to come out and tells me to ‘Get dressed’. However, she doesn’t say a word when I take my time before coming out. She softened a little when Hailey and I did the Saturday house cleaning. Grandma actually helped us. She didn’t say a word, but she helped clean. I haven’t a clue what that means. For my part I’m not really giving her the cold shoulder; I just can’t think of anything nice to say to her any more. Dad always said if you can’t say something nice don’t say anything at all. So, that’s what I’m doing. Honestly, I don’t think there is anything I can say at this point that will make it better with her.

Hailey and I spent the most of the day talking. We roleplayed my coming out as trans several times. Mostly with Hailey playing our parents, but we even tried it with Hailey playing me and me playing my dad. Honestly, I think she did a better job arguing than I did, although the whole thing might well be academic. I can only hope Grandma will let me tell them myself, rather than trying to bias them with her own slanted version of things first. We tried to play DDR even though Grandma specifically grounded us from it, but neither of us could get into it. Not with our parents return and their judgment hanging over me, like one of those cartoons where the shadow of the falling rock grows bigger and bigger as the boulder endlessly falls.

Grandma also pulled the plug on my internet. I’m not sure when she did that. I know it was sometime late on Saturday morning because Hailey and I spent some time reading up on Klinefelter’s Syndrome before then. When Hailey went on my computer this afternoon to IM with her friends in Whistlestop, we discovered the internet was down. I’m not positive Grandma did it. I’m not sure she even knows how to take down the internet. Sometimes our router simply gets stupid and has to be reset. I suppose it is possible it went down all by itself, but the timing was suspicious. Regardless, that’s yet another step towards isolation. I just have to make it through one more day.

Not that our research on KS helped that much, either. Klinefelter's was on the list as an intersexed conditions, or 'Disorder of Sex Development' to use the latest medical jargon, but other places we looked said that being intersexed required ambiguous genitalia at birth. So am I intersexed or not? And there was a lot of talk about body proportions being odd, with KS folks being taller than most, which doesn’t fit me very well. I was a tiny bit taller than average growing up, but nothing remarkable -- and lately not only are the girls catching up to me, but most guys are taller than me now. Plus I did not change height at all, when the nurse measured me at Doc Buford's office. I just don't know what to think, now. I guess I will just have to wait and see.

Grrr, is that being 'compliant and non-aggressive'? I found that in the KS profile, and it is really messing with my head. On one hand waiting is the smart thing to do, right? Showing up at school Monday dressed in Taylor mode with no doctor diagnosis to back me up would be stupid. On the other hand, Hailey thinks my flashing Rick was brilliant and I should go on the offensive more. That makes me feel like my life is some war movie. Waiting feels right, but if I don’t speak up, I’ll be shot full of boy juice. I can’t let that happen.

I should get to see Cathy tomorrow. We still don’t know what has been going on with her. Hailey got a brief text off before Grandma took her phone, but Cathy didn’t come over again today. At least I assume we’ll see Cathy tomorrow at church. Her mother is still the Sunday School teacher, and I can’t imagine Mrs. Andrews not teaching. I’m not sure if we’ll actually get to talk or not. Hailey and I have both written out notes for Cathy. If Hailey has the chance, she’ll pass them on to Cathy.

The worrying is getting to me. Too many people know: Grandma, Rick, Doc Buford, Reverend Miller, and Mrs. Andrews. If just one of them talks to the wrong person then within twenty-four hours I’m out everywhere in Pine Hill. Rick and Cathy’s mom are likely my biggest risks, but I have no control over any of them. Locked up in my room with no outside contact, for all I know everyone in Pine Hill could already have heard about me by now. That’s one good reason to go to church tomorrow. I’ll find out within five minutes if the word is out.

Worse than my fear of being outed is the dread about Dad and Julie returning home. What if Dad acts like Grandma or Rick? Hailey says her mother won’t let me be abused, but how much power will Julie actually have? I’m not really worried about my dad hitting me. I don’t think he’d do that. I’m worried about him forcing me onto testosterone. What if Julie isn’t as liberal as Hailey hopes? What if she thinks that putting me on testosterone is a great idea?

I did a nine minute mile today. That’s my best time ever. I’m not sure if that is a good pace or not. Cathy would know. I got on the treadmill and put all my frustration into running as fast as I could.

I’m really not into writing in my diary tonight. Everything feels like it is frozen until tomorrow. I’m in limbo. Tomorrow morning – church. At least I’ll see Cathy and know if the rumors are flying. Dad and Julie will already be driving back by then. Tomorrow afternoon – my big coming out party. I just wish it was over. I have a really bad feeling about telling Dad and Julie. Coming back from their honeymoon to this? If Grandma hadn’t caught me, I wouldn’t do it like this. I’d wait a week, let them settle in. Now, it is too late. I have no choice. All this stuff is in motion, and I have to stand up for myself, or Grandma will run me over with the testosterone train.