“Laura…” Mum sighs as I head toward the front door.

“What?” I ask with mock-innocence, before sighing as mum simply stares at me.

“You know what…” Mum says, and I can’t help but roll my eyes as I tug down the hem of my short, straight grey skirt. “ALL the way.”

“Oh- come on,” I moan. “What am I, a nun?”

“No,” mum replies. “You’re a fourteen year old girl.”

“Exactly,” I plead, before rolling my eyes again and tugging my skirt down to its ‘proper’ length, the hem coming to a couple of inches above my knees, which- like the rest of my legs- are covered in thick black tights. “I bet Nicole’s skirt won’t be this long…”

“What Nicole does is her problem,” mum says. “Your skirt can at least cover SOME of your legs.”

“…Yes, mum,” I say, trying not to sigh either of my words.

“And besides,” mum says as the two of us get into her boyfriend’s car, “you’ve got an example to set!” I smile as I sit down next to Lily- mum’s new boyfriend’s daughter- who, as always, greets me with an enthusiastic wave.

“Morning, Laura!” Sean- mum’s boyfriend- says with a warm grin. “First day of your GCSEs today, hope you’re not too anxious?”

“As if I don’t have enough in my life to be anxious about,” I snort. “But yeah, I’ll be fine, they’re all subjects I enjoy and I know I can do, I should be fine.”

“Heh, I remember how anxious you were three years ago, when you started secondary school,” mum laughs. “Things have REALLY changed since then…” Have they ever, I think to myself- and most of the changes have come over the course of the last ten months, ever since Dr Williamson gave me my first dose of oestrogen.

Before I took that first hormone pill, I was, mentally and physically, a little girl, but now, I am very much a young woman. As promised, I had my growth spurt, so I now stand 5’ 6” tall- taller even than my mother. All of my clothes come from the ‘women’s section of shops or catalogues, as opposed to the ‘girl’s section (and, gratifyingly, all my clothes have either an ‘8’ or a ‘10’ on the label). My training bras have been replaced by actual bras to support my (currently) A-cup breasts, and my golden blonde hair now reaches down to the middle of my back. It’s not just in a physical sense that I’ve changed, either- it’s hard to explain, but deep inside, I feel like a completely different person- a better person. Of course, I’m still obsessed with dancing and acting- and, of course, boys- but I feel more grown up, more at ease with who I am, and more importantly, who I want to be.

My friends have all seen similar changes, of course. Megan in particular has changed a lot- she’s changed from a short, chubby pre-teen girl into a curvy 5’ 8” beauty queen. Priya and Nicole both look very grown up when compared to the little girls I met three years ago, and Harriet and Suriya, whilst still looking very youthful, are both gradually growing into mature young women. The biggest change, however, has been to Ashley- and not in a good way.

I’d hoped that when I started year 10, I’d go into school to see Ashley (who’s starting year 9) stood there wearing the same grey tights and pleated skirt I’d worn over the past three years- though circumstances conspired to keep her away from the life she wanted to lead… And I’m partially to blame for that. The details are complicated, but thanks to my loose tongue- and my arsehole ex-boyfriend- Ashley was outed before she was ready, which resulted in her father rejection her coming out and Ashley falling into a deep depression, which she emerged from months later with a deep voice, broad shoulders and all the masculine characteristics I’d been fortunate to avoid. To help keep up the pretense, I agreed to be her- or rather, at the time, his- girlfriend, though even this didn’t last long, leaving poor Ashley in a state of limbo until she can get booked in with a counsellor who can properly diagnose her with gender dysphoria and prevent her from turning into the man she doesn’t want to be.

That’s not to say I haven’t had karma ‘punish’ me for what I did to Ashley- the months when I pretended to be her girlfriend have been only the only time over the past few years when I was in any kind of relationship. Priya, Suriya, Megan and Nicole all have boyfriends (though thankfully, the latter’s boyfriend ISN’T the arsehole who unceremoniously dumped me just before my birthday, hence why we're friends again), whilst Harriet came out as gay earlier in the year, and whilst she’s still single, it doesn’t help my angst- especially as it’s plainly obvious why no boy will go near me, despite the fact that I’m virtually indistinguishable from any other girl- well, while clothed anyway.

Actually, even in my underwear or any other skin-tight clothing I’m just like any other girl, I’ve become so good at ‘tucking’ (and helped by the fact I have very little to ‘tuck’). Over the past year I’ve attended ballet twice a week and gymnastics club twice a week, and nothing’s ‘shown’ through any of my leotards. I’ve danced on stage in dance recitals wearing both utterly gorgeous tutus and more modern costumes, such as skin-tight catsuits, and I’ve even competed in inter-school gymnastics competitions and won medals, and in none of the photos or videos of these events is it even remotely possible to tell that I was ever anything other than 100% female. The only bulges that show through my clothing are on my chest- but even this isn’t good enough for some people. I’ll forever be the transsexual, the ‘ladyboy’- and with just a year and two months until the date on which I can legally have sex, that’s never more apparent.

It wouldn’t be so bad if my ‘unwanted bulge’ was the only part of my body I was unsatisfied with, but over the past ten months, I’ve found myself constantly struggling to keep my weight at the level I want it to be. As I’ve grown taller, I’ve also, obviously, grown outward as well- and whilst I’m still skinny (as those ‘8’s in my clothing prove), every additional inch to my waist brought with it an anxiety I’d hoped I’d put long behind me- and the nearly uncontrollable urge to ‘purge’ my body. Fortunately, Dr Williamson was always on hand to keep my meals down in my stomach, where they belong- though the threat of withdrawing my oestrogen pills was just as effective as any of her other coping strategies.

What also helped was that, in addition to Ashley, I’ve gained another sort-of ‘little sister’. Earlier in the year, mum began seeing a guy called Sean, and whilst at first it only added to my stress- mum having a boyfriend when I don’t- I began to grow fond of Sean, especially when he introduced me to his nine year old daughter Lily, who instantly looked up to me as the big sister she never had. My grandmother was wary of Sean at first, as she’s very aware of the old stereotype concerning ‘evil stepparents’, but Sean’s a really nice guy, accepts me fully for who I am and who I want to be (and is very open about me with Lily too, which is refreshing) and actively encourages Lily to see me as a role model. Ricky, however, still isn’t convinced by Sean, even though he’s only met the guy twice- and even worse, Lily seems legitimately scared of my brother.

Ricky’s still living in Yorkshire with the Army, obviously, though he comes home on leave whenever he can (he came home for his birthday in June, and will also be back for my birthday in November). Neither he nor I have seen our ‘father’ since the last time Ricky went with my photo album, and neither of us want to, either- Sean’s already more of a father to me than Robert ever was. Both my grandmother still live relatively nearby, and I see both of them whenever I can (they both make a point of attending all of my plays and dance recitals). I’ve not met Sean’s mother yet, though he assures me that she’ll be accepting of a transgendered granddaughter- and the prospect of the support of a third grandmother seems almost too good to be true.

In the meantime, though, I have the final two years of school to get through first, which begins, as always, with several wide grins and a group hug when I meet the other six girls (I consider Ashley to be one of the girls, despite her ‘legal’ status) at the school gates.

“Hey girlies!” I squeak as I stealthily hike my skirt back up to the height that got me in trouble with my mother.

“You got told off too?” Megan asks, whose skirt has also been lifted to show off more of her enviable legs.

“Whatever,” I say. “They can’t tell us off while we’re at school, can they?”

“I can tell you off for how jealous you’re making me,” Ashley says with a chuckle, earning her another group hug.

“It’ll only be another few weeks,” I reassure the outwardly-male teenager. “You’ve got the uniform already…”

“Yeah,” Suriya giggles as she does a twirl in her own straight skirt. “Doesn’t seem fair that all six of us get to wear new uniforms today but you don’t…”

“All six?” I ask. “Umm, Priya, aren’t you wearing the same uniform you wore last year?”

“With one important difference!” Suriya giggles as she points to a badge on Priya’s blazer that has the word ‘PREFECT’ printed on it in big, bold letters. “Say hello to the school’s newest Priyafect!”

“You are not calling me ‘Priyafect’!” Priya protests, before sighing loudly. “Fine, then. And as prefect, it’s my job to tell you all to get to your forms!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Suriya giggles as we all head to our respective form groups. As always, in our form group, Harriet, Nicole, Suriya and I all sit together, though as we look around at the other faces in the class, one stands out as being unfamiliar.

“Hey,” Nicole whispers, “I think we’ve got a new girl in class!”

“Oh, how cool!” I giggle, trying not to stare at the strawberry blonde girl who’s sat by herself.

“We should invite her into the group,” Suriya says.

“Yeah,” Harriet concurs. “You can never have too many friends…” Our conversation is cut short when our form tutor begins the session, and as we might have predicted, his attention immediately turns to the new girl in the class.

“Good morning everyone,” Mr. Sheldon says. “I hope you all enjoyed your holidays. I’m sure you’ve noticed that we have a new face in our form group today. Samantha, would you like to introduce yourself?”

“Umm, hi,” the new girl says with obvious and understandable nerves. “I’m Samantha, Samantha Reid, I’m originally from Southend, but my parents just moved here for work… Um, hi everyone, I guess!” The class giggles good-naturedly as Samantha sits down- she’s clearly shy and nervous, which is something I can relate to all too well.

“I trust you’ll all make Samantha very welcome here,” Mr. Sheldon says. “In the meantime, your timetables for this year have been published, so please spend the rest of the time familiarising yourselves with them before heading to your first lesson.” The four of us at our table do just this, before heading to our first lesson of the day, which is Maths. After Maths is Spanish, which Nicole, Suriya and I are all taking- and much to our delight, so is Samantha.

“She’s sitting on her own again,” I whisper as I watch Samantha take her seat.

“Not for long,” Suriya says smugly, before whispering toward the new girl. “Hey! Hey, Samantha!” The new girl’s eyes go wide with surprise as we address her, before nervously approaching our table.

“Umm, hi,” Samantha says cautiously.

“Would you like to sit with us?” I ask, grinning happily as Samantha grabs her bags and parks herself next to Nicole. “I’m Laura, by the way, Laura White.”

“I’m Sam,” Samantha says.

“Nicole Wyatt,” Nicole introduces herself.

“Suriya Malik, but you can call me Suri!” Suriya giggles excitedly.

“Okay… Suri!” Sam giggles. “I’ve got to tell you, I was REALLY nervous about today, starting a new school…”

“Ugh, been there, done that!” I giggle.

“Oh- were you a transfer too?” Sam asks.

“Well…” I say with a sly grin. “Kinda yes, kinda not, hehe!” I try not to giggle at the confusion in Sam’s face- she must surely know, or at the very least, her parents have to know that there’s a transgendered child in the school, and if she hasn’t figured out it’s me, then clearly something’s working!

After the lesson, the four of us head to our usual table for break, though with nine of us- the ‘magnificent seven’, Ashley’s best friend and Megan’s boyfriend George and now Sam- it’s a bit of a squeeze!

“Harriet, Megan, Priyafect, boys,” Suri says (whilst flashing a wink at Ashley when she says ‘boys’), “meet Sam!”

“Hi everyone!” Sam nervously says. “Thanks for making me feel so welcome… So, um, are you two sisters?”

“’Fraid so,” Priya says, earning a playful elbow from Suriya. “You got any brothers or sisters, Sam?”

“Two older brothers,” Sam says. “One’s in the Army, the other one actually started year 11 today.”

“Oh cool,” Priya says with a grin. “He might be in some of my classes then, what’s his name?”

“Ryan,” Sam answers. “He’s big into rugby so he’s hoping to be on the school team.”

“Cool,” Nicole giggles. “You into any sports, Sam?”

“Ehh… Not really,” Sam replies. “Did athletics at school. I’m really more into dancing than sport…” As one, the girls at the table (well, the six of us who are allowed to be girls, anyway) all giggle and stand up, pulling a dramatic pose that shocks our new friend.

“What the f-“ Sam giggles.

“You’re sat at a table full of dancers!” Nicole laughs. “Even the boys.”

“Really?” Sam asks. “So cool… I do Latin, ballet and tap, you?”

“Six ballerinas at this table!” Suriya giggles. “Laura, Nicole and I are starting Latin later this month. And, of course, we’re trying out for the school’s world-famous cheerleading squad on Wednesday…”

“Oh, SO cool,” Sam sighs. “Guess I’m trying out too!” The nine of us spend what little remains of our break talking about dancing and cheerleading, before heading to our third lesson of the day with wide smiles on our faces.

“Sam is SO cool,” I gush as I head to chemistry class with Suriya and Harriet. “You know, Nikki Thomas met her fiancée after she transferred schools at the start of year 10…”

“Umm… I thought you weren’t into girls?” Harriet asks.

“Oh, I’m not,” I say. “I was just thinking for Ashley, you know, turn the ‘magnificent seven’ into the ‘excellent eight’ or something.”

“Huh, okay,” Harriet shrugs. “Well if Ashley doesn’t want her, and she’s into ginger girls, I’ll happily go out with her!” The four of us giggle as we head into our classroom, before making a beeline for our table the second the bell rings to signify the start of our lunchtime. However, when we get there, our ‘guest of honour’ is conspicuous by her absence.

“Where’s Sam?” Suriya asks as she sits down.

“Not seen her,” Megan shrugs.

“Her brother was in my last class,” Priya says. “I think I saw her meet him at the start of lunch.”

“Huh,” I say. “Well, that’s fair enough, I guess…”

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Priya continues as she stands up, “duty calls!”

“Priyafect!” Suriya teases as her sister leaves the table. Moments later, our new friend approaches our table with a tall blond boy- presumably her brother- in tow.

“Hey Sam!” The seven of us still at the table cheer.

“Hey everyone,” Sam says with an unusually smug grin. “So, which one of you is the ladyboy?”

“Wh-what?” Suriya asks, shocked by Sam’s use of the insulting term.

“If you mean ‘which one of us is transgendered’,” I reply, trying to keep a lid on my anger, “then the answer is me. Not that it should matter. Because it DOESN’T.”

“Sure,” Sam snorts. “You keep believing that, LADYBOY!”

“Oh- just piss off!” I snort, turning my back to the blonde girl, who simply laughs at me.

“With pleasure,” Sam sneers. “Look at you all, making out you’re the cool kids, when in fact all you are is a ladyboy, a dyke, an ogre, a spastic and two pakis!”

“Better that than some small-brained Britain First moron!” Suriya yells, Sam’s final comment having clearly cut deep. “And for your information my sister and I were born in England, we’re just as British as you!” Sam merely laughs at Suriya’s defiance, before walking away with her brother.

“Fuck her anyway!” Nicole growls.

“God,” George sighs. “How- how can someone go from being cool to being, you know, THAT over the course of a lesson?”

“It’s easy if she’s got someone whispering in her ear,” Harriet mumbles as memories of the time she addressed our table in the same manner as Sam come flooding back to me- and undoubtedly come flooding back to her as well.

“Her brother, maybe?” Suriya asks. “She didn’t have a problem with the colour of my skin when she sat with us in form…”

“One thing’s for sure, though,” Nicole says. “We should steer well clear of her.”

“And DEFINITELY don’t let on to her about Ashley,” I whisper, giving the 13 year old’s hand a supportive squeeze.

“God,” Megan sighs. “You’d have thought we’d be beyond this by now…”

“Bigotry and prejudice?” Suriya snorts. “’Fraid not. Dad’s told us plenty of horror stories about when he first moved to the UK. As long as there are people who think they’re better than everyone else, then they’ll also think that anyone who isn’t like them is worse than everyone else.”

“Well WE know that they’re not, right?” Nicole asks.

“Right!” I cheer along with everyone else, though deep down I’m disappointed- I’d genuinely hoped that Sam would be a new friend, but as I’ve learned often over these last three years, some people just aren’t able to look past their prejudices. What I’ve also learned, though, is that these people aren’t worth a single second of my time, and sometimes- as proved by the ginger-haired girl sitting opposite me- they can end up becoming one of your best friends anyway.

That doesn’t mean that every unkind word I hear doesn’t cut deep, though. But I have enough positives in my life that I can afford to drown out the negatives.

“Afternoon, growing young woman!” Mum laughs as I climb onto the passenger seat of her car and fasten my seatbelt. “Good first day? Not too stressed out about exams, I hope…”

“It was okay,” I say. “There’s a new girl in our class… She already hates me.”

“Well you-“ mum says, before I cut her off.

“Yes, yes, I know,” I sigh. “I just ignore her, don’t let her get to me… God knows I’ve had enough practice there over the last three years.”

“I was going to say,” mum says, clearly offended by my interruption, “you need to show her exactly what she’s missing by being an enemy instead of a friend. I assume your real friends all stuck up for you, right?”

“Of course,” I say.

“Well then this new girl has seven enemies instead of one,” mum says. “I don’t care how tough she thinks she is, every bully backs down from odds of 7-1.”

“Her older brother’s in year 11,” I say. “She’s got him for backup.”

“What’s he going to do?” Mum snorts. “In my day if any boy laid a finger on any girl he was kicked out faster than you can say ‘wimp’. Doubt it’s any different now. And before you bring up Ashley, he- sorry, SHE will get her gender dysphoria diagnosis soon. That skirt you’re wearing can sometimes be a shield, you know.”

“You’re right,” I say.

“And there you were, thinking that parents are only there to embarrass you,” mum says, making me roll my eyes.

“Well, not ‘only’,” I reply.

“And on that note,” mum says, “by the time we get home, your skirt had better have been lowered to its proper height!” I sigh, but let out a small giggle as I wiggle about in my seat, returning the hem of my skirt to where it was at the start of the school day.

After an evening of homework, TV and chatting on Facebook with my friends- with Sam obviously being the main topic of conversation- I change into my soft cotton nightdress and climb into bed, trying as hard as I can to put my new tormentor out of my head. I fall asleep focussing on the words of my mum- that my real friends will always stand by me- and Harriet’s parting message on Facebook.

‘One day,’ Harriet typed before going offline, ‘she’ll look back on what she said and she’ll be so guilty she’ll literally cry. Take it from someone who knows.’

As usual, when my alarm rings on my phone, I get up, shower, take my hormone tablets and get dressed, pulling on a thong underneath my black tights as it’s ballet tonight. I can help but fidget, though, as we head to school- the last time I was this nervous about going to school was before my first ever day, and back then it was because of the uncertainty of what would be waiting for me. Today, I’m nervous precisely I AM certain of what’s waiting for me…

“Hey, fellow black-legged girlie!” Suriya giggles as she greets me at the front gate, giggling as I (of course) hike my skirt just a tiny bit higher than it was when I was in mum’s car.

“Hey girlies!” I squeak. “No sign of ‘she who must not be named’?”

“Don’t waste ANY energy today thinking about that bitch,” Suriya sneers. “If she wants to be a bigot, that’s her problem.”

“Kinda harsh, don’t you think?” Priya asks as we head toward form. “I mean, people can change…”

“And you don’t know if anyone’s making her say the things she said,” Harriet whispers.

“No one’s making her,” Suriya spits. “Think about it- friendly at break, evil at lunch. Are we meant to believe her dad came into school during the third period and threatened her without anyone noticing? Sam isn’t you, Harriet. She’s doing this because she’s an evil bitch. Simple as.”

“No one’s so bad they can’t be redeemed,” I say, though as I turn the corner, I see a sight that immediately changes my mind.

There, in the middle of the corridor, is Sam- and in the front of her school skirt is a very noticeable bulge. Surrounding her is a bunch of giggling girls who I’d previously considered to be cool- not friends as such, but not enemies either. All of them, however, are clearly having a good laugh at my expense.

“Oh, hi, Laura!” Sam coos in a voice typically reserved for speaking to little children- even though I’m both slightly taller and slightly older than the girl.

“Oh, bye, Sam!” I retort, turning my back on my wannabe nemesis.

“What’s the matter?” Sam asks. “I thought that if I had a huge bulge in my pants, it’d help me get to know you a little better?”

“Yeah, well she may have a penis now,” Harriet retorts before I have the chance to speak, “but at least she won’t be a cunt her whole life!” I bite my lip to keep myself from giggling too loud at the ‘ooh’s Harriet’s insult gets from both our group and Sam’s.

“You can talk, you fucking dyke,” Sam sneers to more ‘ooh’s.

“Yes I can,” Harriet says smugly, “because, as a lesbian, allow me to say I wouldn’t even LOOK at you, even if you were the last girl on Earth!”

“Whatever,” Sam sneers, removing the bulge (a thick pair of socks) from her tights and heading to form- which, sadly, is where I’m also headed, though I get a sense of satisfaction when I arrive at form and see her sat by herself, while I’m sat with Harriet, Nicole and Suriya as usual.

Fortunately, our first two lessons of the day go smoothly- Sam obviously knows better than to try to disrupt a class- but when the bell rings to signal the start of our first break, we’re greeted an unwelcome- but not entirely unexpected- surprise when we head out to our table.

“Oh, hi Laura!” Sam once again says in her babyish voice. “Sorry, this table is GIRLS ONLY!”

“Looks more like the table is bitches only,” I immediately retort, smirking as Sam’s patronising smile immediately turns into a frown. “Come on, girlies!” I keep the smile on my face as I walk away from our hangout of the last few years, though when we reach our new spot, a set of benches far away from Sam and her cronies, a tear starts to trickle from my eye.

“Oh- god, Laura…” Suriya sighs, giving me a tight hug.

“What the fuck is her problem?” I moan. “What did I do to her?”

“Some people will always be scum,” Harriet sneers.

“…I liked that spot,” I sniffle as I try to compose myself.

“We all did,” Megan sighs. “Guess we’ll just have to make this our spot for the new two years!”

“And if we get forced out of here too?” I ask.

“Then I’ll just hair to tear every hair out of her stupid blonde head!” Harriet says defiantly. I force the smile back on my face and try to agree, though I’m far from convinced, and Nicole’s silence- not to mention her obsession with being popular- puts a thought in my head that I really wish I wasn’t thinking.

Our next lesson is PE, so as usual, I get changed alongside Nicole and Suriya in the girls’ toilets that make up my ‘private changing room’- and this gives me the perfect opportunity to raise my concerns.

“Nicole…” I whisper as I pull on my shorts and t-shirt (we haven’t been issued our team leotards yet). “You were kinda quiet at break…”

“I- I’m fine,” Nicole mumbles, though she’s clearly far from fine, and it’s obvious why.

Nicole remains silent all throughout lunch- which is spent at our ‘new spot’- and our final lesson, and by the time I slump down in mum’s car at the end of the day, I’m utterly exhausted.

“Another bad day?” Mum asks, sighing sadly as I nod. “That pathetic girl still pestering you?”

“’Bullying’,” I correct my mother. “The word you’re looking for is ‘bullying’.”

“Then tell someone about it,” mum says. “Tell a teacher, or your head of year. Hell, tell Mr. Malik, he’s on the board of governors at the school.”

“That’ll only make things worse,” I moan. “Today she was walking around with a sock bulging through the front of her skirt…”

“Right,” mum says determinedly. “Well if you aren’t going to tell anyone, I will.”

“No- no please, please don’t…” I weakly moan.

“Laura,” mum sighs. “These things need to be stopped now before they get any worse. It’s a sad fact of life that there are people who get off on making others miserable. I know that better than anyone else.”

“…You were bullied at school?” I ask.

“No,” mum whispers. “I was a bully.” My jaw drops at my mother’s revelation- I have a million questions, but mum keeps talking before I have the chance to ask them.

“There was this one girl at school,” mum explains. “She was shorter than everyone else all the way through school, even into fifth form- what you now call year 11. She wasn’t a midget, she was just small… When she was fifteen, she looked like she was ten, that sort of thing.”

“I know the feeling,” I say, remembering how small I felt before my own hormone-triggered growth spurt.

“So we’d always pick on her,” mum said, her voice filled with shame. “Call her ‘shrimpy’, that sort of thing… One day, she didn’t show up to school.”

“Oh my god,” I whisper. “Did- did she-“

“She was taken into hospital,” mum says. “She didn’t try anything, if that’s what you were asking. It turns out she had some kind of kidney disease that prevented her from developing properly. She was on dialysis for months, had to take her exams in the hospital. First thing I did when I left school for the summer was I went straight to the hospital to see if I could act as a kidney donor.”

“And- and were you?” I ask.

“No,” mum says. “Wasn’t a match. In a way I was kinda relieved- I didn’t want to have the surgery, after all- but I was kinda disappointed. I’d made the girl’s life a living hell, giving her a kidney seemed like the least I could do.”

“I see,” I say. “If you’re trying to make me have any sympathy for-“

“No, never sympathy,” mum says. “Pity, on the other hand… It why I always came down so hard on Ricky when you two were growing up. I’m just glad you’re growing up to be a more understanding, tolerant young woman.”

“Not got much choice but to be tolerant!” I say, making mum giggle as we head home. After dinner, I head up to my bedroom, where I strip off my uniform and pull on the pink tights and black leotard that have been a part of my Tuesday and Friday nights for the past year. After ensuring the leotard is smooth over my body, I inspect the crotch area of the skin-tight garment, and find it just as smooth as it is on any of my friends- or any other girl's body, despite what Sam and her cronies might think.

I have a grin on my face as I arrive at the dance studio to be greeted by my identically-clothed friends (apart from Ashley, of course, who’s wearing her boy’s leggings and t-shirt), though my smile soon fades when my friends try to steer me toward a different part of the reception area from where we normally sit.

“Umm… Have we been kicked out of ANOTHER spot?” I ask as I sit down with my knees pressed tightly together.

“You… You don’t wanna know,” Megan sighs.

“Ugh,” I spit. “No, you know what? I DO want to know. This is the only ‘safe space’ I have left apart from my home. And I am NOT letting anyone take it away from me.” I immediately march over to our old ‘spot’ in the reception area, where, to my dismay, one of the girls from school- a girl in our year called Mia- is stood, with a very noticeable bulge in the crotch of her leotard.

“Oh, hey Laura!” Mia says, before doubling over with laughter.

“You planning on dancing with that in your leo all night?” I ask, grinning with anticipation at the inevitable response.

“Are you planning on dancing with THAT in your leo all night?” Mia asks, pointing at my crotch.

“I don’t see why not,” I retort smugly. “It’s not stopped me from being a hundred times better dancer than you are!”

“What’s going on here?” Miss Fullerton asks as she approaches our group, before sighing as she sees the bulge in Mia’s leotard. “I’m not looking at someone making fun of someone else for being transgendered, am I?”

“Umm… No,” Mia mumbles, hastily covering the bulge.

“Good,” Miss Fullerton says. “Because as I’m sure you know, one of my oldest and best friends is transgendered. As is another one of my best friends. As is Mademoiselle Renou’s partner. And her two other flat mates. And my fiancé’s best man at our upcoming wedding. So if I did discover that someone was being discriminated against for being transgender- or, for that matter, being gay, non-white or a member of any other minority- the person doing the discriminating wouldn’t be dancing in this studio anymore. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Miss Fullerton,” Mia mumbles as she tries to stealthily remove the bulge (a thick, pink legwarmer).

“I also want to hear an apology,” Miss Fullerton says sternly.

“Sorry, Laura,” Mia mumbles.

“Apology accepted,” I mumble back.

“Good girls,” Miss Fullerton says. “Laura, can I have a word with you, please?”

“Umm, okay,” I say nervously as I follow the tall teacher to her office.

“Don’t worry, you’re not in any trouble,” Miss Fullerton says. “I just wanted to give you details for that Latin class you've been asking about. Also, I’ve had a few of the girls sending me referrals today for a new girl who started at your school. She’s practically jumped to the top of the queue already, but none of your group have referred her, so I just wanted to check to see if you knew her.”

“Oh no,” I moan, immediately sensing where the conversation is going. “Is- is her name Sam Reid?”

“Samantha Reid, yeah, why?” Miss Fullerton asks, before sighing. “Let me guess- she was copying Mia at school today?”

“More like Mia was copying her,” I spit.

“Well,” Miss Fullerton says smugly. “That’s one referral that’s getting rejected, isn’t it? I’ll just have to find someone else to take Abbey-Gayle and Ella’s places. And yes, I am holding a space for Ashley whenever he- sorry, whenever SHE wants it!” I giggle as I rejoin the rest of the girls and follow Miss Fullerton into the dance studio, emerging an hour later tired but exhilarated as always.

As I pull on my dance skirt and cardigan to go home, however, my eyes are drawn to the other side of the room, where Mia is exchanging her pointe shoes for a pair of black flats. We’ve never exactly been friends- she’s not in my form or any of my classes- but for her to suddenly act like I’m a freak… There has to be SOME kind of explanation, and I need to know what it is.

“Mia,” I say softly as I stand over the black-haired girl.

“What do you want?” Mia asks, clearly uncomfortable at having to talk to me.

“I want to know why you felt that I deserve to be bullied,” I say bluntly, inwardly smirking as Mia isn’t able to return my gaze. “Do you actually hate me, Mia? Is that it? What have I ever done to you?”

“You want to know?” Mia asks angrily.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” I reply.

“Girls,” Miss Fullerton says sternly. “Stop this. Both of you. Now.” Mia and I take a deep breath before backing away from each other and getting into our respective lifts home. Once I’m in the car, though, I immediately get out my phone and log onto Facebook messenger- Mia’s been a friend of mine on there since year 8, and unsurprisingly, she’s already online.

‘Hi,’ I type.

‘Hi,’ Mia immediately responds.

‘I still want to know what your problem is with me,’ I type, smirking at how blunt the plain text sounds.

‘You really want to know?’ Mia replies.

‘Yes,’ I answer.

‘Everyone- literally everyone- in school hates you,’ Mia types, making me bite my lip to stop myself from crying.

‘Then everyone needs to get over what I keep in my panties,’ I reply.

‘People don’t hate you because you’re a boy, or were a boy, or whatever,’ Mia types. ‘They hate you because you’re such a stuck-up cow. You and your whole group are. You always keep to yourselves, you’re always hogging the best clubs, you’re in the dance squad, the plays, you’ll probably hog the cheer team too.’

‘WTF!?’ I type. ‘You think WE’RE the cool kids? Don’t make me laugh, we’re the outcasts. We always have been, you know that and you know exactly why.’

‘Oh please,’ Mia replies. ‘Outcasts don’t get to go and watch Star Wars with celebrities.’

‘OMG, you’re jealous!’ I type. ‘If you wanted to hang out with us, you only needed to ask. Assuming you can stand to sit with- and I quote- a ladyboy, a dyke, an ogre, a spastic and two pakis.’

‘Yeah that was pretty shitty of Sam to say that,’ Mia types. ‘I think she really does hate you just because you’re transgendered. Actually said she’d beat you up if you ever went into any of the girls’ toilets, even the ones you’re allowed in. Think she uses them deliberately just to see if she can run into you.’

‘So immature,’ I type. ‘And you really want to be her friend?’

‘Better than being yours,’ Mia responds, making me snort derisively.

‘How would you know if you’ve never been our friend?’ I ask, smiling as Mia takes her time before responding.

‘Like you’d ever let anyone else sit with you,’ Mia types.

‘We let Ashley sit with us,’ I retort. ‘George sits with us.’ I take a deep breath before continuing my message. ‘We sit on the benches near the music block. Come sit with us at break if you want.’

‘How do you know I won’t bring Sam and the rest of the girls with me, now that I know where you are?’ Mia asks.

‘Well that’s up to you,’ I type. ‘Whether you’d rather sit with the words I typed earlier or someone who’s got no problem with calling other people those words.’

‘Whatever,’ Mia types, before going offline. I smile as we arrive home, though, when I see that she hasn’t blocked me on Facebook, or even unfriended me.

After changing into my nightdress ahead of going to bed, I grab my tablet computer and open messenger back up to discover a group chat already in progress.

‘OMG can you believe Mia?’ Harriet types.

‘Can’t believe she did that!’ Priya types. ‘If she did that at school she’d get suspended for sure! I’ve already told my head of year about Sam’s P-word comment, wouldn’t be surprised if she’s in isolation for the rest of the week just based on that alone.’

‘Way to make yourself known on your first week at a new school,’ Megan types.

‘I actually talked to Mia on the way home,’ I typed.

‘OMG even after Miss Fullerton told you not to?’ Megan asks.

‘On FB,’ I clarify. ‘Seems like she hates Sam as much as we do… She reckons we’re all stuck up because we sometimes get to hang out with the Angels. Reckon she’s just jealous.’

‘Who wouldn’t be jealous of us?’ Nicole types. ‘I mean, we ARE cool. Cool people don’t go around getting themselves banned from ballet studios.’ I grin as I read Nicole’s reply- that answers any questions I may have had about her ‘loyalty’.

‘LOL Sam will be pissed when she hears that!’ Suriya types.

‘Mia reckons that she is just a bigot,’ I type. ‘I kinda invited Mia to sit with us tomorrow break.’

‘OMG!!!’ Suriya types. ‘Guess we’ll have to find somewhere else, then!’

‘Nice going, Laura!’ Nicole types.

‘Oh come on,’ I type. ‘They can’t be in two places at once…’

‘Uh, yeah, they can,’ Priya types. ‘There’s enough of them.’

‘…Fine,’ I type. ‘But if Mia turns out to be the eighth member of the ‘excellent eight’, I expect an apology!’

‘If that happens, I’ll eat my pointe shoes,’ Suriya types.

‘Oh leave it out,’ Harriet types. ‘Everyone deserves a second chance, don’t they?’

‘Well I guess,’ Suriya types. ‘G2G now, need to do homework before bed.’

‘Same here,’ I type, before saying my goodbyes, closing down the messenger app, finishing my homework and climbing into bed.

The following morning, I arrive at school to be greeted by all my friends as usual, and unsurprisingly, Mia isn’t amongst the group, but even more surprisingly, she isn’t in Sam’s group either- largely as Sam herself is nowhere to be seen.

“Looks like Priya was right about Sam going into isolation,” Suriya says with a smug grin.

“Yeah,” Harriet laughs. “Doubt she’s learned her lesson, though…”

“Well- we’ll see,” I say as I take my seat and the form session begins. “It’s not like she can stay in isolation forever…”

With Sam absent, the first two lessons of the day go super smoothly, and when the bell rings to signify the start of break, I grin when I head outside to see our usual table completely empty. Suriya, Nicole, Megan and Harriet waste no time in parking themselves in the usual spots, but as I go to sit down, I remember the girl I’d promised our friendship to last night. I can’t see our ‘new spot’ from our usual table- which is why we chose that spot- so I excuse myself and wander around the music block, where I let out a little gasp as I see the black-haired girl sat staring into the middle distance.

“Hi…” I say nervously.

“Hi Laura,” Mia says, obviously relieved to see me. “Thought you were going to leave me sat here all break… Wouldn’t have blamed you after last night.”

“That’s not the type of person I am,” I say with a proud grin. “Come on, we’re sat at our usual table.” Mia smiles wearily as she stands up and follows me back to our table, where Suriya dramatically sighs and slumps forward onto the table.

“She lost a bet,” I say to Mia, who laughs nervously before sitting down.

“Do you know any good recipes for pointe shoes?” Megan asks, making everyone- Mia included- giggle.

“If Sam were here she’d say ‘curry’,” Suriya spits as she sits up.

“She probably would,” Mia snorts. “Guess you’ve figured out she’s in isolation for the rest of the week. Only just avoided that myself.”

“At least you’re ashamed of what you did,” Harriet says.

“Yeah, it wasn’t cool,” Mia mumbles. “Everyone- everyone reckons you guys are, you know, cliquey, that you think you’re better than everyone ‘cause you hang out with the Angels, you’re in all the school productions…”

“It’s not that at all,” Nicole says.

“If anything, we keep to ourselves because- and I’m only speaking for myself- I think everyone thinks I’m WORSE than everyone,” Harriet says, earning consoling hugs from Megan and Suriya.

“You’re not worse than ANYONE,” I say.

“Oh really?” Harriet asks. “My parents are divorced, I’m not- and never will be- skinny, I sleep in an attic, I have ginger hair, and- oh yes- I’m gay. Top that.”

“My parents are also divorced,” I retort. “My father’s in prison, I’ve actually been hospitalised thanks to my obsession with being thin. My bedroom’s the size of a broom cupboard, and- oh yes- I used to be a boy.”

“Girls,” Megan sighs. “Let’s call this a draw, okay?”

“I- I always thought, you know…” Mia mumbles. “I always thought I was the only insecure girl in the school. Everyone I hang out with is so confident, but you- you girls are really open with each other. And with me! Like, I’ve only been sat here three minutes…”

“I guess we’ve known each other a long time,” I shrug.

“Nah,” Mia says. “More like everyone else is SO fake…”

“Well you’re welcome to hang out with us whenever you want a dose of ‘reality’,” Harriet giggles. “And trust me, you have nothing to be insecure about. You are HOT!”

“Thanks,” Mia giggles. “I’m kinda… Only straight, though.”

“Meh, no one’s perfect,” Harriet says, prompting a group giggle as the break period comes to an end.

After another quiet, uneventful lesson, I meet up with Nicole and Suriya to collect this year’s team leotards from our gymnastics teacher, before giggling with excitement as we head to the school gymnasium to sign up for another team- a team the three of us have been dying to get on ever since we started secondary school three years ago.

“Oh my god oh my god!” Nicole squeaks. “I can’t believe we’re actually gonna be cheerleaders!”

“I know!” I squeak. “This is like something out of a movie!”

“Hi girls!” Miss Ellison says as we approach the front of the queue. “Laura, Suriya, as you were in dance club last year, you automatically get into the squad, so here are your uniforms!” Suriya and I both squeak with excitement as we’re handed the gorgeous-looking uniforms, which are almost exactly like the uniforms I’ve seen so often in American films and television.

The uniform is made up of three pieces- the ‘base’ is a 3/4 sleeve dark red leotard, on top of which goes a sparkling white tank top with the school’s initials embroidered on the front, and a very floaty white pleated skirt that barely covers the bottom of the wearer. Completing the outfit are red and white (the colours of our school) socks, white and red sneakers, a red and white scrunchie to hold our hair back and, last but not least, red and white pom poms that make an unbelievably loud noise when Suriya and I put them in our bags!

“Oh, I am SO jealous already!” Nicole sighs. “I don’t get why any girl wouldn’t want to be a cheerleader…”

“Well,” Miss Ellison says with a grin, “the squad size is twelve, we never get more than about twenty girls wanting to sign up and I know you’ll do well in the tryouts- which will be tomorrow lunchtime, incidentally.”

“Can- can we come along to the tryouts too?” Suriya asks. “You know, to ‘cheer’ on our friend?”

“Of course!” Miss Ellison says with a smile. “The more, the merrier!” The three of us giggle as we head out of the gymnasium, though as we leave, a face appears in the doorway that makes us gasp.

“What?” Mia asks with a smug grin as she heads toward the signup sheet. “You thought that just because you were trying out, it meant that I wouldn’t be?”

“Oh, this is SO COOL!” Nicole squeaks excitedly. “Four of us on the squad! Eeeee!”

“Assuming we get through the tryouts, anyway!” Mia laughs.

“Are you kidding?” I ask. “You two are SUCH great dancers, you’ll be fine!”

“Us two?” Mia asks.

“Us two who have to try out rather than getting an automatic spot,” Nicole snorts with a good-natured smile, which prompts myself and Suriya to get out our pom-poms and excitedly shake them in the air.

“Oh, that’s so awesome!” Mia coos. “Especially for you, Laura! I LOVED High School Musical when I was growing up… I’m guessing you didn’t get to watch it much?”

“Not nearly as much as I’d have liked,” I sigh. “My brother was in charge of the remote when I was younger so it was always motor sports or shows about cops or soldiers.”

“Ugh,” Mia spits. “Yeah, my brothers were the same. Is your brother in the Army?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Yours too?”

“My eldest, yeah,” Mia says with a smile. “Think he always wanted me to be a tomboy, join him in the Army… He’d probably have a fit if he saw me dressed as a cheerleader, hehe!”

“…I think mine’s only just about got used to the idea!” I giggle.

“My brother knows I’m a girly girl and he’d still have a heart attack!” Suriya giggles.

“Girly girls rule!” I giggle, joining Suriya in a mock-curtsey.

“They- sorry, WE do!” Mia laughs. “It’s just so cool that you used to be a boy, but now, you’re, like, the girliest girl in the school!”

“I’d have to disagree that it was cool that I was EVER a boy,” I say with a warm smile. “But you’re right about the second part!”

“So,” Suriya asks cautiously as we head to our regular table. “If someone was a boy, but wanted to be a girl, you’d think that was cool?”

“Who wouldn’t want to be a girl?” Mia asks.

“Says the girl with a legwarmer stuffed in the crotch of her leotard?” Priya asks, making Mia cringe.

“Ugh,” the pale-skinned girl spits. “I am SO sorry about that… Shows that I needed to pick my friends better, huh? Wish I’d hung out with you guys earlier, you really are cool, all of you.”

“We all make mistakes,” I shrug as I glance over at Ashley. “God knows I’ve made a few in my past… But for the rest of the week, at least, I can pretend that Sam simply does not exist!”

“Yeah!” The table cheers- Suriya literally so as she still has her pom-poms in her hands- before we get down to the task of eating our lunch.

After another quiet, uneventful lesson to end the day, I climb into mum’s car with a smile on my face, which immediately puts a smile onto my mother’s face.

“I take it you had a good day, then?” Mum asks.

“Yep!” I giggle. “Sam’s in isolation, and I may have yet ANOTHER uniform for you to wash every week…”

“Aww,” mum coos. “Is my little girl now a proper cheerleader?”

“I stopped being your ‘little girl’ when I started to be taller than you,” I retort, making my mother snort with laughter. “But yes, Suri and I are on the team automatically ‘cause we were in dance club last year, Nicole and Mia are going to try out tomorrow.”

“…Who’s ‘Mia’?” Mum asks.

“Oh, she was one of the girls who was picking on me,” I explain. “But she apologised so we’re friends now. She’s in my ballet class, pale skin, long, black hair?”

“Oh- yeah, I think I know her,” mum says with a concerned expression. “So… She was bullying you, and less than 24 hours later, you’re friends?”

“Well- not ‘bullying’, really,” I say. “She was just following what Sam was doing. Mia’s cool, really, now that we’ve got to know each other a bit better.”

“24 hours is obviously a long time when you’re fourteen,” mum sighs. “Make sure you talk about her- and especially about Sam- with Dr Williamson, okay?”

“Okay,” I shrug as we arrive at the clinic, inside which is the counsellor who’s been helping me over the last three years.

“Hello Laura, Michelle,” Dr Williamson says as mum and I step into her office. “Big week this week, start of your GCSEs… How’ve you been coping?”

“The actual GCSEs themselves aren’t too much of a problem,” I say. “They’re all subjects I enjoy, and I’m on the cheerleading squad too.”

“Oh, very cool!” Dr Williamson laughs. “Didn’t realise that was a thing in Britain.”

“Maybe not as big as it is in America,” I say. “It’s basically just the same as dance club from years 8 and 9, only with a proper uniform, the skirt, the trainers, the pom-poms…”

“Well, make sure you don’t overwork yourself,” Dr Williamson says. “You do so many extra-curricular activities, and all of them are physical as well. On that note, food diary, please.” I let out a tired sigh as I hand the well-worn notebook over to my counsellor, who flicks through it before nodding with satisfaction.

“Good,” Dr Williamson says. “Your weight’s steady, it could probably do with going up a couple of pounds but I’m satisfied that it’s within healthy bounds.”

“Tell her about Sam and Mia, Laura,” mum says, making me grimace.

“Who are Sam and Mia?” Dr Williamson asks. “New friends?”

“Yes- well, no- well, kinda,” I sigh. “Sam started school this week, transferred from a different school… She started bullying me almost the second she knew I was transgendered.”

“Sadly, that’s just a fact of life,” Dr Williamson says with a soft voice. “You’ll always find people who are unwilling to look past their prejudices, and high school is a hotbed for bullying. Did you say there was a second girl?”

“Yeah, Mia,” I say. “She was picking on me too, but I confronted her, she backed down… She explained that I- that me and my friends, we- we’re not that popular at school…”

“The one worry of the teenaged girl,” Dr Williamson says in a sympathetic voice. “Believe me when I saw that everyone in your position goes through what you’re going through. Even teenagers who aren’t transgendered. You need to keep focussing on the positive aspects in your life. What happened after Mia backed down?”

“Well, we got talking,” I say. “We- we’re kinda friends now.”

“Sounds to me that you’re gonna end this week with one more friend than when you started it,” Dr Williamson says.

“Well- yeah, I guess,” I say. “Just because everyone gets bullied, it doesn’t mean it’s right.”

“No, it most definitely doesn’t,” Dr Williamson concurs. “No one chooses to be bullied, but you can choose how you respond to the bullying. Talking is a good start.”

“But we tried that with Sam,” I moan. “We actually invited her to be part of the group, then she went away after break and came back at lunch and she was just a total- well, you know…”

“Then it shows that she was never willing to be your friend, and you shouldn’t waste any of your time worrying about her or even thinking about her,” Dr Williamson says in a soft, calming voice.

“You’re right,” I whisper with a smile.

“I know the old cliché of ‘ignore a bully and they’ll go away’ isn’t always the best advice,” Dr Williamson says, “but confronting them can often do more harm than good. In the case of your new friend Mia, you were lucky and you were able to reason with them. If what you say about Sam- that she just ‘turned’- is true, then it’s unlikely that the same approach will work with her.”

“So… Just keep my distance and hope for the best?” I ask.

“For now,” Dr Williamson says. “I know two years seems like a long time, but it really will be over before you know it. I will give you this one additional piece of advice, though- virtually all transgendered people go through what you’re going through, and many of them developed coping strategies that they’ll be willing to share with you.” I nod and make a mental note at Dr Williamson’s hint.

Immediately upon returning home, I head upstairs to change out of my uniform and into a comfortable denim skirt and long-sleeved top, but the instant I’ve pulled the stretchy garment over my head, I reach for my tablet computer and log in to Facebook. This is hardly out of the ordinary for me, obviously, but this evening there’s a specific name I’m looking for, which I’m relieved to see is on the ‘online’ list- the name in question being Nikki Thomas.

‘Hi,’ I type, my fingers shaking slightly with nerves. ‘Are you free for a chat?’

‘Hey Laura,’ the reply comes almost instantly. ‘Sure, I can talk, I’m just chilling this evening.’

‘How are you feeling?’ I type, wanting to appear polite rather than immediately unloading my problems onto Nikki.

‘Fine,’ Nikki replies. ‘A lot better than this time last month. Stitches are all gone, swelling’s going down. Back at work next week too!’

‘Heh,’ I type with a smiling emoji. ‘So jealous… Really can’t wait to get my SRS.’

‘It did feel weird at first,’ Nikki types. ‘But every day I wake up with ‘it’ it feels more and more normal, like it was meant to be.’

‘It WAS meant to be!’ I type, earning a smiling emoji from Nikki.

‘Is everything okay, Laura?’ Nikki types. ‘I doubt you messaged me just to talk about my vagina…’

‘Lol,’ I reply, before taking another deep breath. ‘I started back at school this week.’

‘Ah, of course, it’s September,’ Nikki types. ‘When you start working full-time you don’t get the luxury of a six week holiday in summer, lol. You’re in year 10 now, aren’t you?’

‘Yeah,’ I type. ‘There was a new girl in class today.’

‘Aw, I remember there being a new girl in MY class at the start of year 10…’ Nikki types, obviously referring to her fiancée.

‘Yeah,’ I type. ‘Well this doesn’t look like it’s going to be a love story. Pretty much the second she found out that I was transgendered she started having a go at me… Even had a go at my friends too, was racist and everything.’

‘Ugh, bigots,’ Nikki types with a frowning emoji. ‘I’m not going to tell you to ‘just ignore it’ as that’s always been stupid advice. All I will say is that you are a much, much better person than they are.’

‘You’ve not met them,’ I retort.

‘Don’t need to,’ Nikki types. ‘I’ve met more than enough people just like her. People who assume that because you were born with a [d**k], you’re some sort of freak or monster for wanting to wear a skirt.’ I pause before typing my next message, shuddering at the very personal nature of the query.

‘Were you ever bullied?’ I type, before hastily adding to my message. ‘Don’t respond if you don’t want to, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked such a personal question.’

‘It’s okay,’ Nikki types. ‘Us T-girls must stick together, heh.’

‘I guess,’ I type.

‘To answer your question,’ Nikki types, ‘I don’t think there’s a single transgendered person in the world who hasn’t faced some form of bullying from their peers- myself included. I was comparatively lucky- I left school as a boy and then started fashion college as a girl, the only person from my school who went to my college was Sarah so I was able to start with a clean slate, and the girls I met on my first day all accepted me. The ‘friends’ I left behind at the old school, on the other hand, after I announced it on FB…’

‘I can kinda see why you waited until you were done with school before transitioning,’ I type.

‘Every day, I wish I hadn’t waited so long,’ Nikki types. ‘But I know the reaction from the kids at school… Well, you know better than anyone.’

‘Yep,’ I type with a ‘sad’ emoji.

‘I won’t tell you that the next two years will be easy,’ Nikki continues, ‘you can’t simply delete people from real life the way you can on Facebook. But once you reach sixteen, you get your full oestrogen dosage and you leave school, you’ll be able to live your life by your terms only, and you’ll be able to cut out all the tumours from your life like this new girl at your school.’

‘Yeah, I guess,’ I reply.

‘Besides,’ Nikki types, ‘at the end of your school you’ll get to go to your prom, and I mean PROPERLY go. Sarah and I never did.’

‘Kinda need a boyfriend for that first!’ I type.

‘Two years when you’re a dancer, a gymnast and now a cheerleader?’ Nikki types with a winking emoji. ‘Yeah, I saw your status update. You’ll be beating off boys with a stick within SECONDS of putting that uniform on, trust me!’

‘Lol, I wish,’ I type as the smell of dinner begins wafting up the stairs. ‘G2G, dinner’s ready.’

‘Talk soon,’ Nikki types. ‘And Laura- take care of yourself, okay?’

‘Will do,’ I type before logging off Facebook and heading downstairs, where much to my delight, I discover that mum and I aren’t alone for dinner tonight.

“Hi Laura!” Lily says happily as her father watches on with a smile on her face.

“Hi Lily!” I giggle. “Hi Sean!”

“Hi Laura,” my mother’s boyfriend says with a smile. “Good day at school?”

“Better than Monday or Tuesday,” I shrug.

“Laura,” Lily coos, “Michelle says you’re going to be a cheerleader, is that right?”

“Well,” I say with a cheeky grin, “why don’t you ask these?” I laugh as I reach into my school bag and retrieve my pom-poms, shaking them near Lily’s head and making her giggle excitedly. “Would you like a go with them?” I giggle as Lily’s tiny eyes light up and she grabs the pom-poms from me, dancing around the room and waving them in my and her father’s faces.

“Ah, looks like Laura’s not going to be the only cheerleader in the house!” Mum laughs as she serves dinner.

“Give it five years, and you can get pom-poms of your own, Lily!” I giggle as the small girl hands the loud, rustly accessories back to me. “Just a pity I have to give the uniform back when I’m done with it, really. Would be nice to have someone to hand clothes down to. Well, other than Ashley, and she’s already almost as tall as I am.”

“I’ll have any of your clothes that you don’t want!” Lily immediately volunteers, making me giggle again.

“…It would save on the bills,” Sean laughs as he tucks into his meal.

“Laura’s clothes are so cool,” Lily sighs. “If I wore cool clothes, maybe more people at school will think I’m cool.”

“You ARE cool,” I assure the nine year old girl. “What’s important is who you are on the inside, not what clothes you wear.” I bite my lip once the last word passes my lips- my eleven-year old self would probably disagree with what I’m saying, and a quick glance up at mum shows that she knows exactly what I’m thinking- even if she’s in total agreement with me.

“Like Ashley, you mean?” Lily asks. “I mean, he’s a girl on the inside, but wears boy’s clothes, so that makes him really a girl?”

“Exactly,” I say.

“So if you wore boy’s clothes, would you still really be a girl?” Lily asks me, and I bite my lip again as I remember the last time I ever wore boy’s clothes, when I was in the care- or, to use a more appropriate word, custody- of my so-called father.

“Always,” I say with a confident grin. “I’ll always be a girl. No matter what anyone else says. And you’ll always be cool, no matter what anyone else says.”

“I guess,” Lily says. “Some of the kids at school used to tease me a lot. They were making fun of me because my mum and dad weren’t together.”

“But they don’t say that anymore, do they?” Sean asks, giving his daughter a comforting hug. “Because even though we’re not together anymore, your mum and I will always love YOU, and that’s the important thing.”

“I know,” Lily says, the smile returning to her face.

“And I’ll always be a big sister for you, whenever you need one,” I say, making Lily smile even wider.

“And I’ll always be a little sister for you if you need one of those!” Lily laughs.

“That will ALWAYS be appreciated,” I say as I study Lily’s smiling face.

I don’t know how bad she had it at school, of course, but it’d just be pure ego to assume that I’m having it any worse than her. Bullying really does happen to people of all ages and of all genders, for any reason a bully can find. Some people just thrive on being pathetic- and I refuse to let them thrive at my expense. I have a loving family and friends I care about- and I’ve added new members to both those groups in recent months. I don’t need to live in fear- though I know that when I see Sam again, despite my best efforts, I’ll feel just like the terrified four year old she treats me like.

…Though when I arrive at school the following day, my resolve is strengthened when Mr. Sheldon takes me to one side and privately tells me that Sam has been moved to a different form group on a permanent basis, and reiterates what Mrs. Houghton told me when I started at the school three years ago- that discrimination of any kind will not be tolerated under any circumstances.

That's not to say that I don't still feel the stares of my classmates boring holes into my body on a daily basis, of course, but the knowledge that the 'safety net' provided by the school is still there- and in Priya, I have a friend more than willing to use it- makes life so much easier. Nikki's right- I can't erase people from real life the way I can from Facebook, but I can concentrate on the positives I do have, like my new friend Mia- who, with Nicole, will be joining myself and Suriya on the cheerleading squad after a successful pair of auditions!

By the time the bell rings to signify the end of the school day, I've all but put Sam out of my mind. Sure, I know I'll eventually have to face her again, but I know one simple fact- I'll never have to face her alone. I feel sorry for all the transgendered girls across the UK who aren't as lucky as I am to have such amazing friends. I've had it hard, but so, so many have it harder- I just wish there was a way I could help them the way Nikki has helped me this week.

What I can do, though, is be there for my friends when they need me. If it wasn't for their support, I don't know that I'd have made it through a single confrontation with Sam, and as I'm laid on my bed at home after school, I make sure that all of them- even my newest friend- know just how important they are to me.

With the strength they and my family give me, the story of Laura Jade White won't be over for a long, long time!