CHAPTER 24 -- Tutoring

I was doing pretty well in my advanced math class, so the teacher suggested I try tutoring people in math after school. I started doing it one day a week, but after a few weeks, I went up to twice a week. I would hang out in the study hall, and if people needed help, I would help them, and if not, I would work on my homework. Except that there were always people who wanted help. They were almost always girls, maybe because the boys didn't want to admit that a girl might be better than them. Most of them were just confused about something, and after I walked them through some problems once or twice, they usually got it. But there was one girl who had real trouble: Sylvia Reynolds.

Each time I would show her how to do something, she would act like she understood, but then when she tried to do it herself, she would end up doing the craziest things. It took a couple of weeks, but I started to suspect that she really didn't understand much of anything about math. Her class was beginning algebra, but I started throwing in problems in arithmetic, and she couldn't do them, either. The only problems she could do halfway reliably were ones with arithmetic with positive, whole numbers. And that only if we hadn't done any harder ones. I wondered what she had actually been learning in all those math classes. How was it that no one noticed? I found out she was failing algebra miserably and they were threatening to kick her out of Gabriel. I got the feeling she was in a panic whenever she had to do any math and in a double panic because she was afraid of getting kicked out.

I started talking this over with my teacher. She didn't have any suggestions except to work on what she could do and go from there. Except that it probably wouldn't be in time for her to pass algebra. I felt really bad for her, so I talked it over with my aunt. Then I went to Ms. Ellis. She wasn't sure I should involve myself, but I said I just couldn't stand around and do nothing. I finally went to Mr. Wright, the guidance counsellor. They were all surprised that I was making a fuss for another student, but I said I knew what it was like to feel like the whole system is against you.

Meanwhile, I spent our time together just trying to get her to relax. I gave her little problems and puzzles that used basic arithmetic. A teacher from the younger grades gave me some problems that might get her into negative numbers and fractions without looking like it. Finally, they decided to let her drop algebra, since she wasn't learning anything and just getting depressed. She would need to take algebra or pre-algebra in summer school and pass it to stay in Gabriel. They reshuffled her schedule so she had study hall the same time as me, so I helped her during study hall and after school, too. So much for my free time. But it made me feel good that I could do something for someone else. The past six months or so, I'd been constantly needing help, so now I was paying it forward.

The tutoring helped with the friend situation, too. The students I helped in math got to see that I wasn't as weird as they'd thought from hearing about me. I guess they had thought I must have two heads or something. And Sylvia had quite a few friends, and they appreciated that I was working so hard to help her. She introduced me to a bunch of people at lunch. With all the people I was getting to know, I only ate with Teresa once or twice a week.

Sylvia also invited me out with her friends on weekends. They were different from Teresa's friends. They liked to go to the malls and hang out, which I wasn't wild about, but they were also into music. Making music. Most of them played some instrument. They also knew some boys who made music, so they'd all get together and some of them would jam together and the others would listen or bang on a trash can or something. They also went to a lot of movies, which Teresa and her family didn't do much. Sylvia liked to draw and could draw the most amazing pictures. When she wanted to, she could draw very lifelike pictures, but she also liked to draw caricatures. One time, she drew a picture of Ms. Williams and Mr. Wright on a nude beach together. She got all the body parts right, as far as I could tell. We all got a kick out of it.

CHAPTER 25 -- Going Home Again

About this time, my parents asked if I could visit them. I felt bad, because I hadn't really thought about my family, I'd been so busy with settling in to my new life. I had called them every few weeks when my aunt or uncle reminded me. So one Sunday afternoon, my uncle drove me over to my old home.

I was wearing a casual skirt and blouse and tights, and my hair was growing out of the boy/girl cut. When my parents opened the door, at first they didn't recognize me. They knew it had to be me, of course.

My mother said, "Martin, is that you?" I said "hi, mom," and reached out and hugged her, but she still didn't seem convinced. My uncle said goodbye, and I went in the house. She asked, "would you like me to get you something to drink?" in a nervous tone. I said, "you don't have to, I'll get it myself," and walked into the kitchen.

When I came out, she said, "you don't look at all like my son, but I know you're my son because you walk the same and you talk the same." She took me in her arms and gave me a hug and cried on my shoulder.

I could see that both my parents were having a hard time with my being even more like a girl than when I left, so I told them an edited version of what was going on with me. I told them about math, about tutoring, and about having to study all the time. "The nice thing is, everybody is nice to me. Nobody picks on anybody else. But we do study a lot." I didn't talk about school uniforms, or church dresses or anything to remind them of my sex change.

Biff asked if Gabriel had any sports teams. I told him they had some after-school sports clubs, mainly soccer and track, but no official school teams. Then he told me about West High. Things had settled down after I left, mainly because he didn't have any reason to fight with his old friends, but he didn't feel the same way about them. "I'll be glad to graduate and leave. The way they treated you, I saw a side of them that really grossed me out. I act friendly with them, mostly because I don't want to have any trouble, but I don't spend a lot of time with them any more. I tell them I'm busy with schoolwork. It's kind of lonely." He looked sad. Then he asked, "Martin, are you going to come to my graduation?"

"Why not?"

"You might not want to be around West High people."

"I don't think anyone will recognize me. Hey, my mom didn't. I can't see Tom Prescott succeeding where my mom didn't. Besides, they'll all be busy graduating."

Pete was just looking at me the whole time. I'd never known him to talk about deep stuff before, but when Biff finished, he said, "you know, you make a pretty good little sister." My mom sighed. "What do they call you now?"

"Melanie." I knew this kind of talk bothered my parents, but I couldn't figure out how to change the subject.

"Well, Melanie or Martin, brother or sister, I think you make a pretty good -- what's the word?"

"Sibling."

"Yeah, that. It's great to hear you're doing well. I'm proud to have you as my, uh, sibling. Put it there, sib." He grabbed my hand and shook it, then pulled me over and gave me a big hug.

My dad started talking about how things were at work. My mom brought in some brownies she'd baked in honor of my visit. We talked about the neighbors and about their summer plans. We didn't talk about mine. Finally, Mom and Pete went into the kitchen and made dinner. Biff and Dad talked about sports, especially the West High baskeball season. Then they talked about cars. I joined in a little then.

Dinner was -- polite. My mother kept looking at me. Sometimes I saw tears. I felt really bad for her. Finally, as we were just finishing, she heaved a big sigh and said, "I guess Pete is right. I have a daughter now instead of a son, but you're still the same person. You're still my child, even though you look so different." I could see how hard it was for her. I got up and put my arms around her and said, "and you're still my mom. And I love you." After a while, I went over to my dad, who was still sitting, watching us, and I put my arms around him and held him and said, "and you're still my dad. And I love you, too."

Later, after we'd cleared the table, Biff came over and said, "hey, what about me?" So I gave him a long hug and said, "you're still my brother, and I love you." Pete said he'd already gotten a hug and he didn't want to be greedy.

After we'd had dessert and washed all the dishes, it was time for me to go back home, as I now thought of it, but I didn't say that out loud. I gave everyone a big hug again, and then my dad drove me back. We didn't have much to say on the drive. I was mostly thinking how far my life had gone away from their lives. I didn't know what would happen in the future, but I didn't think we'd ever get any closer.