I yawn loudly as my alarm clock wakes me, and my yawns quickly turn to groans as I brush my growing blonde hair from my forehead and roll onto my sore, cramping stomach before grabbing my phone and switching off my alarm.

“That time already?” I sigh. “Couldn’t have given me one more week…” I moan as I swing my legs out of bed and pull on my plain grey dressing gown before padding downstairs to the kitchen. The day I’ve dreaded for weeks is finally here- my summer holiday is over. As I slide two slices of bread into the toaster, I check my Facebook my phone, and groan at the statuses I read.

‘omg y do I hav 2 b bk at colleg? lame,’ Georgie’s latest update reads in a style of writing that’s considerably more mature than her usual.

‘Back at college today, yawn,’ Brooke’s update reads. 'Least I get to spend all day with my boo!' I take a deep breath, before composing my own status update.

‘Starting college today,’ I type into my phone. ‘Here goes nothing!’ I grin as the status update almost immediately gets likes from all my friends before comments begin to appear underneath it.

‘Good luck, Kayleigh-Ann!’ Brooke’s comment reads, which I of course dutifully ‘like’.

‘Have fun, Kayleigh-Ann!’ Ella types, earning another like before she posts an immediate reply to her own comment. ‘Let us know if you meet any nice boys!’ I ‘like’ this comment as well, though the thought of any ‘boy’ touching me makes me shudder. Rather than read any further comments, I put my phone down on the kitchen table and let out a long, frustrated sigh.

My summer holiday- after my return from Spain, anyway- had been absolute bliss. Spending time in Cardiff with grandma, never once pulling on the tiniest scrap of female clothing, or wearing make-up, or dancing ballet, or eating any of my disgusting vegan diet... I’d actually prayed for the holiday not to end, but obviously, my prayers weren’t answered, and today I have to face the reality I’ve been so desperate to avoid.

“Stop moping!” A familiar Welsh accent chastises me as its owner walks into the kitchen. “You’ve known this day was coming for weeks now, so there’s no point in sulking about it!”

“I know,” I sigh.

“Besides,” grandma says with a warm grin, “teenage BOYS don’t pout, do they, Ian?”

“…I guess not,” I say, my frown turning into a smile as I’m addressed by the name that is now legally mine. “Have- have mum and dad called?”

“Not yet,” grandma says. “They’ll probably call while you’re at college. Did you put my mobile phone on charge?”

“Yeah,” I reply. “Should be fully done now.”

“I’d hoped I could go the rest of my life without needing one of those,” the seventy-four year old woman sighs. “But I suppose if I’m going to be responsible for you, I need to be able to be contacted. And so do you! So eat up and get dressed. And don’t. Panic! You’re a handsome young man, I know you’ll make friends quickly.”

“A handsome young ‘man’ whose internals are torturing ‘him’,” I moan as I slowly chew my toast.

“Well we’ll see what your counsellor says about that on Thursday,” grandma says. “In the meantime, you let me worry about your parents, you just concentrate on studying, getting the grades you need and, most importantly of all, making friends!”

“I will,” I say with a grin. “I just- I just hope that, you know, any friends I make… Won’t be like Ollie.” I shudder as I remember the only real friend ‘Ian’ ever had- or rather, supposedly had.

“They won’t be,” grandma says confidently. “And if they are, they’ll have to answer to me! Now go on, go and get dressed, you don’t want to be late on your first day!” I smile as I finish my breakfast and head back to my bedroom, stripping off my dressing gown and pyjamas before sighing as I stare at my naked reflection in the mirror- well, naked save for the string dangling between my legs, a string I hastily cover with a pair of jockey shorts, which, while tight, aren't nearly as tight as the things or panties I was forced to wear in my 'old life'. Next comes probably the most important piece of clothing, even though it isn't really 'clothes' as such- the elastic bandage I wear to suppress my chest. On doctor's orders, I don't wear it 24/7 and never wear it while I'm at home, but when I'm out and about, I truly feel naked without it. Next comes a pair of black men's socks- much thicker than the tights I used to wear to school and no less clingy, but somehow, they just feel so much better covering my feet than hosiery that covers my crotch.

Finally comes my favourite two bits of clothing- a pair of new, dark blue jeans, held up by a black leather belt (my waist still being much narrower than my hips) and a plain dark red t-shirt. After slipping my feet into a pair of androgynous grey trainers, I stare at myself in the mirror, and despite my nerves, I smile a wide, satisfied grin.

With my ‘look’ complete, I can’t help but think back to this time twelve months ago, when I was getting dressed ahead of the first day of my final year of school. Even though our school had a uniform code, it wasn’t nearly as strict as it could have been, meaning that- within reason, obviously- girls were allowed to wear some make-up (though obviously not loads), they could wear varying colours and shades of tights and their skirts could be shorter or longer than the standard knee-length mandated by other schools. ‘Kayleigh-Ann’, of course, had an image to live up to, meaning that every day I went to school, I smeared foundation over my face, followed by mascara and eyeliner, pulled on stretchy and translucent black tights and rolled the waistband of my skirt to make it as short as I could get away with. And every day I dressed like that, I felt myself getting more and more stressed, like the clothes were squeezing the life out of me. Now, in my jeans and t-shirt, I feel free for the first time in my life.

That’s not to say that I’m not nervous, of course, and as grandma drops me off at the front entrance of the college, I’m almost hyperventilating, I’m panicking that much.

“Take several deep breaths,” grandma advises. “Everyone in that building is a potential friend, don’t forget that.”

“Everyone in there is also a potential transphobe,” I moan. “And it’s not like I can hide who I am forever… I’m amazed they allowed me to use the boys’ toilets.”

“Well they could hardly let you use the GIRLS’ toilets, dressed like that, could they?” Grandma says, making me giggle.

“I suppose not,” I reply.

“So there you go,” grandma says. “Ian- this is going to happen whether you like it or not. You’re going to go into that college, you’re going to sit down at a desk, listen to your teachers or whatever they have in college, and start learning. You may as well try to enjoy it.”

“The same could’ve been said about being a girl,” I mumble, momentarily silencing the elderly woman.

“Yes, yes, it could,” grandma concedes. “But unlike that, this IS something you actually want to do. You couldn’t choose your gender, but you DID choose this college, and this course, and you will see it through. Okay?”

“Okay,” I say with a smile, before clamping my trusty Arsenal FC hat to my head, grabbing my bag and leaving the car, only looking back once as I head into the vast college building. As it’s the first day of the new school year, there’s a long queue for the reception desks to receive our college IDs and timetables. I take a deep breath as I line up behind a group of four girls the same age as me, all of whom are wearing heavy make-up, short skirts and are seemingly saturated in a cloud of sweet-smelling perfume. It’s clear that all the boys- well, all the other boys, anyway- are VERY interested in these girls, and more importantly, not interested in me at all. With my plain, make-up free face, short hair and slouchy clothes, I couldn’t be any more different from the girls in front if I tried (and I have tried, really hard), even though beneath our skin, we’re fundamentally the same.

This contrast puts a smile on my face that stays even as I approach the reception desk and hand over my registration forms. My smile falters, however, when I remember that whilst the letter gives my name as ‘Ian David Freeman’, it also gives my legal gender as ‘female’- which is how it will remain for some time.

“Thank you, umm, Mi- mi-“ The receptionist stammers as she sees the contradiction on the form.

“Mister Freeman,” I say firmly.

“Mister Freeman,” the receptionist says with a kind smile. “Stand in front of the camera, please.” I smile as I stand in front of the camera, which flashes to let me know that my picture has been taken. “Would- would you like to review the information before I print it out?”

“Sure,” I say hesitantly, aware that none of the other students have been asked this question (and aware that the students in the queue behind me know this too). The receptionist turns her monitor to face me, and immediately I see what she’s referring to, as underneath the line that reads ‘DoB 30/12/1999’ is a line that reads ‘Gender F’.

“Can- can you change that?” I ask as I discreetly point to the ‘F’ on the screen. “I, um, mean, um, are you allowed to-“

“Of course,” the receptionist whispers, deleting the ‘F’ and replacing it with an ‘M’. If only it were that simple… I think to myself. Mere seconds later, my student ID is printed out, immortalising the line ‘Gender M’ on a laminated piece of cardboard that I don’t think I’ll ever throw away, even after I leave the college.

The rest of the morning is spent in a large lecture hall in what can only be described as like a school assembly, where we’re briefed on various mundane things including the fire evacuation process and the locations of the toilets. By the end of the ‘lecture’, I’m so tired and hungry that I head straight to the dining hall for lunch, but when I enter the vast room, I suddenly feel very, very small and alone. It’s not like the hall is any bigger or more crowded than the one in my old school, and it’s not like I’m not used to being on my own as Ian, as I have a Saturday job (which I obviously don’t do with grandma looking over my shoulder), but this place just feels… Different. Almost like every pair of eyes in the room is fixated on my body. Logically, of course, I know that this is just paranoia, the little voice in the back of my head saying ‘you don’t belong here’ that I can’t silence no matter how hard I try, no matter how many time I repeat the simple fact that my name is NOT Kayleigh-Ann and I am NOT a girl, my name IS Ian and I AM a boy.

Nonetheless, before I join the dinner queue I decide to cover up by pulling my jacket and my hat back on in the hope that this will detract attention from me, even though most of the other teenagers in the room are in their shirt sleeves. However, as I approach the front of the queue, it’s not my jacket that gets the most attention.

“Nice hat!” One of the boys in the queue chuckles, and as I’m the only one in the queue wearing a hat, it’s obvious that the compliment was intended for me.

“Thanks,” I say with a grin. “You a fan?”

“Only my whole life,” the boy laughs. “Who’s your favourite player?”

“Toss-up between Walcott, Ramsey and Giroud,” I reply. “You?”

“You need to ask?” The other boy laughs, pointing to his shirt, which has the phrase ‘Aaron Ramsey is god’ emblazoned on it in big, bold letters. “Still reckon we’d have beaten Portugal if he wasn’t suspended.”

“Probably,” I laugh. “I’m Ian, by the way. Ian Freeman.”

“Neil, Neil Wright,” the boy replies. “Heh, think you got the wrong surname!”

“Yeah,” I chuckle. “Do- do you have a table? I kinda don’t know anyone here…”

“Sure,” Neil says, and I try to suppress my grin as I follow him to the table where two other boys are sat. On the way to the table, we pass countless tables populated by teenaged girls, all of whom are spending more time digesting the information on their phones than digesting their food. No doubt my parents would love nothing more than for me to be part of that silent, image-obsessed clique, which makes me all the more desperate to build a genuine friendship with Neil and his friends.

“Oh good,” one of the boys snorts as Neil and I sit down. “Another arsehole fan.” I bite my lip as I try to cover my embarrassment by pulling my cap lower.

“Ignore him Ian, he’s the only arsehole around here,” Neil says, making the other boy snort with laughter. “That’s Lee, the man who’s lived in Cardiff his whole life but supports his ‘hometown’ of Manchester United.”

“Hi,” Lee half-says, half-grunts.

“Hi, I’m- I’m Ian,” I say, trying to make my own voice as masculine and ‘grunting’ as possible.

“I’m Rob, Rob Goddard,” the other guy at the table says with a friendly grin. “And I don’t take a side in the football arguments between these two.”

“Because he’s a wuss,” Neil teases, and I try not to giggle as Rob gives him the finger in return.

“Did- did you three go to school together?” I ask.

“Sadly, yes,” Rob says. “No one from your school coming here?”

“Given that I went to school in London, it’d be kinda, you know, a bit of a journey each day,” I reply, making the other three boys chuckle.

“Someone who actually supports their hometown!” Neil laughs. “How long you lived in London?”

“Eleven years,”, I reply. “I was born in Cardiff but my parents moved to London for- for work. I live with my grandmother now.”

“You kept your accent pretty good,” Lee says, making me smile- if only he knew that my Welsh accent was just as false as the deep pitch I’m speaking with.

“Thanks,” I say.

“What are you studying?” Rob asks. “Neil and I are doing computer programming, Lee’s doing electronics.”

“Graphic design,” I say with a grimace. “’Brainy’ stuff… Not my thing. Don’t get me wrong, I always wanted to be a coder, a nerd, but with my dyslexia-“

“Uhh, he’s found our deep, dark secret,” Lee laughs, making me frown. “’Nerds’?”

“…Sorry,” I say, biting my lip hard to keep myself from blushing at the unintended insult. At my old school, ‘nerds’ who studied computer programming, like my three new friends- or like Ollie, for the matter- were looked down on by the popular kids, and given my need to be seen as one of the popular kids (even though that ‘need’ was entirely down to external pressures), I was forced to look down on them as well. Mum would probably have an aneurysm if she saw me sitting at this table…

“Nah, you’re not wrong to call us nerds,” Rob laughs. “We’ve all been to the Doctor Who Experience at least twice each. Neil and I actually want to be game designers. Don’t suppose we could persuade you to make some graphics for us if we make the game engine?”

“Umm… Might be a bit beyond what I can do right now,” I laugh.

“Meh, there’s no rush,” Rob shrugs. “What you got planned tonight, Ian? The three of us are heading back to my place for a gaming session, you’re welcome to join us if you want.” My eyes go wide at the offer- there’s nothing I’d like more than to spend time getting to know my new friends, but as I open my mouth to respond, my chest is gripped by a moment of panic- I barely know these boys, they barely know me, and most importantly of all, they don’t know the TRUTH about me. If they suddenly found out that underneath my jeans and my t-shirt were a pair of breasts and a vagina… I shudder to think about what might happen. I don’t even need to imagine it, either- my ‘date’ with Ollie this February just gone is all the proof I need that being alone with the boys is NOT an option.

“I, uh, need to get home tonight,” I grimace. “Kinda help out my grandmother throughout the house, she’s old, you see…”

“Ah, that sucks,” Rob sighs. “Maybe another night this week?”

“Umm, sure,” I say as the four of us finish our lunches and head to our classes.

The class itself is straightforward enough, just the tutor introducing himself to the class and showing us the basics of the software we’ll be using. As we’re sat at individual computers for the class, there’s no opportunity to socialise with any of the other students, and even though they’re also mostly male, this suits me just fine.

By the time our tutor dismisses us at the end of the day, I’m so exhausted from nerves that I have to stifle a yawn as I climb back into grandma’s car, but it’s only as we’re driving home that I realise that, for want of putting it a better way, I’ve ‘won’- I started the day with the goal of getting through the whole day without being ‘outed’ as a girl, or having a panic attack at the thought that I might be, and this goal has been accomplished in full. Hell, I may even have made a new group of friends. Whatever worries I had about today… They were all for nothing.

“Stop yawning, it’s still early,” grandma chastises me, and I smile as I stifle another tired, nervous yawn.

“Sorry,” I laugh. “Been a bundle of nerves all day.”

“Well you’re back in one piece, so I assume it all went well?” Grandma asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “Course seems interesting, I was given a copy of the software to play around with at home…”

“…And?” Grandma asks.

“…’And’?” I reply.

“’And’ did you make any new friends?” Grandma asks, and I try not to sigh at her persistence.

“Maybe,” I say. “Got talking to a group of boys at lunch… They actually asked me if I wanted to go and play videogames with them tonight.”

“Well, I hope you said ‘yes’,” grandma says firmly, catching me by surprise.

“Really?” I ask.

“…Why did you say ‘no’?” Grandma asks me.

“I, um, I was nervous,” I mumble. “They- I- I didn’t tell them, about, you know, ‘Kayleigh-Ann’… They just think I’m, um, just another boy.”

“You ARE just another boy,” grandma says, making me smile.

“Yeah, but they’ll inevitably find out,” I sigh. “And they’ll be, well, angry… And they might to do, well, what Ollie did…”

“That disgusting young man,” grandma spits at the mention of my ‘ex-boyfriend’s name. “Not all men are rapists, Ka- Ian.”

“I know,” I sigh. “But all men COULD be, and that’s the problem. I don’t want to put myself in a position where I’m outnumbered by guys, you know?”

“Are they on your course?” Grandma asks.

“No,” I reply. “Two of them are doing computer programming, the other’s doing electronics.”

“So you must have got to know them at lunch, right?” Grandma asks.

“Well, yeah…” I reply. “One of them’s an Arsenal fan, saw my hat…”

“So you already have things in common with them!” Grandma said. “Next time they ask you to go to their house, you should say yes.”

“But- but what about-“ I plead.

“You can’t go through your whole life without making any friends,” grandma says firmly. “If you’d like, you could always ask them to come to our house so I can check them out for you?”

“Uhh… No, that’ll be fine,” I say, forcing a smile- albeit a nervous one- on my lips as we arrive home.

Any opportunity to relax on the sofa only lasts a few minutes, however, as grandma comes through from the kitchen holding the house phone in one hand and wearing a worried expression on her face.

“Ian…” Grandma says quietly. “There’s- there’s a message on the answerphone for you. It’s from- it’s from your mum.” My chest again grows tight as grandma passes me the phone, and mere seconds after pushing the button to replay the message, I’m almost hyperventilating,

“Hello, Kayleigh-Ann,” mum’s voice says in a stoic, almost angry tone. “I hope you’re enjoying college in Cardiff. Your father and I miss you a lot. Call us back when you get this message.”

“Oh god…” I moan, bile rising in my throat.

“I could call them back if you want,” grandma offers, “but they will want to speak to you at some point.”

“I- I’ll call them back,” I whisper, taking several deep breaths to compose myself before pressing the ‘redial’ button.

“Hello?” Mum’s voice asks, answering the phone after just two rings.

“Hi mum!” I say in the feminine, English voice that sounds utterly WRONG as it leaves my mouth. “I, um, I got your message…”

“Hello Kayleigh-Ann,” mum replies in the same voice as before, a mixture of stoic, angry and disappointed. “How was your first day at college?”

“It was- it was okay,” I reply. “It was mostly just induction, meeting the tutors…”

“What production is the college doing this year?” Mum asks, making me bite my lip- she believes that I’m studying performing arts, and that’s an illusion I can’t afford to break just yet.

“Pride and Prejudice,” I answer, remembering the posters in the hallway outside the college’s performing arts wing- a place where I have no intention of ever setting foot.

“Oh, very good,” mum coos. “Of course, you’ll be one of the Bennett sisters. I can’t wait to see you up on stage, wearing a beautiful dress…”

“Auditions aren’t for several weeks,” I laugh.

“That doesn’t mean it’s too early to rehearse, or to make friends with the director,” mum says. “Though I’m sure there’ll be a college in London that’s doing Pride and Prejudice, there was no need to run away from home to further your acting career…” I bite my lip even harder as mum tries to emotionally blackmail me the same way she’s done during my whole life.

“I’ve, uh, I’ve also got, umm, a part-time job,” I mumble. “I’m umm, doing extra work on… The new series of Doctor Who.”

“…Well it’s a nerd show, but it’s popular enough,” mum says with an audible shrug as I stare into the disapproving eyes of my grandmother. “Should be good first step on the ladder.”

“I, um, think grandma wants to talk to you,” I say, handing the phone to the elderly woman, who takes it into the kitchen, returning fifteen minutes later with her unhappy facial expression still firmly attached to her face.

“There was no need to lie to your mother,” grandma says in a quiet voice.

“I know,” I mumble. “It’s just going to make things worse when I eventually- well, you know…”

“Exactly,” grandma says. “Though if it was the only way to prevent you from making marks on your wrist, then I guess we’ll just have to live with it, won’t we?”

“I’m not THAT stressed,” I say, making grandma smile. “If I was sat here wearing a skirt, though…”

“Well THAT’s something you won’t have to worry about ever again,” grandma says with a confident grin. “And come Thursday, I’m sure we’ll have that in writing!”

“Yeah,” I say with a quiet chuckle. “I, um, I should get on with my homework…”

“Don’t let me stop you,” grandma shrugs. “But while you’re on your computer, make sure you also Facebook those boys you told me about. It is Facebook that you young folks do, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “Though the only Facebook profile I have belongs to ‘Kayleigh-Ann’…”

“Then consider that another part of your homework,” grandma says with a grin as she hands me my laptop.

As ordered, I spend the whole evening working on my laptop, setting up my course software on there and creating a new Facebook profile in the name of ‘Ian Freeman’. Unsurprisingly, after joining my college’s Facebook group, I get several friend requests from my tutors and people on my course- and, unsurprisingly, three more from Rob Goddard, Neil Wright and Lee Charlton, all of which I immediately accept.

As I head to bed, I make sure to logout of ‘Kayleigh-Ann’s Facebook profile on my phone, though before I do, I take one last look at the posts from all of the ‘friends’ I left behind in London, and I can’t help but sigh. As much as I hated the life, I did at least have friends who cared for me- especially Abbey-Gayle and her gang, who went out of their way to make me feel better whenever I was down, and that happened a lot. Then again, if I’d simply been born into the gender I desired, I wouldn’t have been down in the first place, which today’s stress levels proved. ‘Kayleigh-Ann’ would’ve been a nervous wreck who spent the evening screaming into her stuffed toys and having thoughts of self-harm. ‘Ian’ is still a nervous wreck, but my limbs are all undamaged, and there isn’t a stuffed toy anywhere to be found in my bedroom. And I’ll make new friends. I may already have made new friends… I just wish I didn’t have to let down my existing friends in the process…

Unlike yesterday, when my alarm wakes me for my second day of college, I’m not anxious, but actually excited, looking forward to getting on with my course, and that enthusiasm is obvious even as I head into the kitchen, where grandma is already preparing breakfast.

“Good morning, college boy!” Grandma teases as I sit down at the breakfast table. “Looking forward to today?”

“More than I was yesterday, heh,” I reply.

“Good,” grandma says. “Did you find your friends on your Facebook last night?”

“I did, yeah,” I reply. “Had a look at their profiles, they’re all cool guys… Kinda nerds, though. Not that that’s a bad thing, of course.”

“I know that, I’m not your mother,” grandma says, making me giggle. “When she was at college it was like she was afraid she’d catch fire if she touched anything that wasn’t related to the latest trend. I’m glad to see you’ve not picked up THAT trait from her, Ian.”

“Thanks,” I laugh, before eating my breakfast and pulling on my clothes, which of course includes my trusty Arsenal FC cap.

With the ‘introduction day’ completed at college, today we get straight down to work, which involves playing around with the software, customising pictures and various images such as company logos. It’s easy enough work, but still takes up all of my attention until our tutor dismisses us for lunch. I smile as I head toward the dining hall, and pause before I enter the vast room, fishing my cap out of my bag and securely clamping it to my head before joining the queue to get my lunch, where I immediately spot a familiar face.

“Hi, Ian!” Rob says as he passes me in the queue with his lunch. “We’re sat over by the fire exit, if you want to sit with us again today?”

“I’d like that,” I say with a grin. “See you in a couple of minutes, okay?”

“Sure,” Rob says, his grin just as wide as mine. I try to hide my grin as I sit down at Rob, Neil and Lee’s table a couple of minutes later with my lunch, though as they’re also clearly pleased to see me as well- but only as another male friend. During my last few months as ‘Kayleigh-Ann’, I became very used to the look of pure lust that so often flashes across the eyes of boys my age. As I look at my three new friends, I still see that look- but only when they look at the girls that pass us by, or sit at other tables. When they look at me, they only see one of the boys… And I need to do my best to make sure that never changes, even if it means I never tell them the ‘truth’. A secret like mine, though, is hard to hide…

“Enjoy your chores then, Ian?” Lee teases, laughing as I flash a very unladylike middle finger at him. “Guess not, then!”

“I’m actually praying for homework so that grandma gives me a break, heh,” I laugh.

“Why did you move from London, anyway?” Lee asks bluntly.

“Uhh… Bit of a falling out with my parents,” I mumble, earning sympathetic smiles from my friends.

“Think that’s all we need to know,” Rob says.

“How was the gaming session last night?” I ask, making the boys all grin.

“Meh, I had fun, can’t speak for the other two though,” Neil says with a smug grin.

“Spot who whooped all our arses last night,” Lee snorts, making me laugh.

“Got a gaming session tonight?” I ask.

“Nah, Tuesday nights we usually go swimming,” Rob says. “Though you’re willing to come along to that, if you’d like?”

“Ehh… Not a good idea,” I grimace. “I- I-“ I stammer, trying to think of a way to finish the sentences that doesn’t involve the words ‘I have breasts’ or ‘I’d need to wear a bikini or a one-piece swimsuit’.

“…You can’t swim?” Lee asks, making me inwardly breathe a sigh of relief as I nod, even though I’m actually a very good swimmer. “Meh, there’s no shame in that. Rob here never learned how to ride a bike!”

“My dad’s been giving me driving lessons even though I’m not seventeen for another four months, I don’t NEED a bike,” Rob retorts as the other boys- myself include- all let out a quiet laugh at his expense.

“Four months?” I ask. “Don’t tell me that you’re a millennial baby too?”

“January 19th,” Rob says. “Think my folks got there just a little too late. What, were you actually born on January 1st 2000?”

“December 30th, 99,” I reply. “Mum was NOT happy about that.”

“Eh, just means that you get to drive two days earlier that you would’ve otherwise,” Neil shrugs. “And get pissed two days earlier when you get to eighteen.”

“I guess,” I shrug, biting my lip at the awkward silence that subsequently occurs.

“Anyway,” Rob says, making a point of breaking the silence. “Eat up, lunch is almost over. Ian, if you don’t want to come swimming with us, we’ll be gaming again tomorrow night, if you’d like.”

“Umm, sure,” I say, remembering grandma’s advice about not throwing away a potential friendship over a potentially trivial fear. “Your place again?”

“Sure,” Rob shrugs. “We’ll see you there.” I smile, though secretly, my insides are once again churning at the prospect of spending time alone with the boys, to the extent that I actually have concentrating during the final lesson of the day, and when I climb into grandma’s car to go home, the elderly woman can instantly sense that something’s wrong.

“How was your day?” Grandma asks, even though she clearly already knows the answer.

“Not bad,” I shrug. “I, um, I spoke to those boys again.”

“Ooh, good,” grandma says with a proud grin. “Then why are you in this car instead of going to one of their houses? I don’t mind you calling, you know, if you want to go to a friend’s house after college, that IS what I got the mobile phone for, and god knows when your mother was your age me driving her home hardly ever happened.”

“They’re, um, they’re going swimming today,” I say, biting my lip as grandma grimaces. “Basically the only thing I just can’t do- at least not as ‘Ian’, anyway.”

“That’s true,” grandma concedes. “Ian, you- you aren’t just making excuses, are you?”

“No, honestly, I’m not,” I plead. “…Though I am kinda nervous… I agreed to go to their house tomorrow, but- but they don’t know- they don’t, well, ‘know’ yet.”

“Everything I’ve read about living a transgendered life says it’s better to be open with friends sooner, rather than later,” grandma says. “So obviously you should tell them… But I appreciate that it won’t be easy. I’ll tell you what- you invite your friends around to my house tomorrow, that way you’ll be on ‘home turf’ when you tell them.”

“Well- okay, I guess,” I grimace. “They’re kind of expecting a gaming night, though…”

“I am not buying you a PlayStation!” Grandma snorts as I bite my lip and blush. “Maybe for Christmas and/or birthday. You’ll just have to find something else to entertain you and your friends tomorrow. You haven’t got your money’s worth out of that Netflix thing you asked me to pay for, for starters!”

“…Okay,” I mumble as we make our way back to our home where, just like yesterday, I crash heavily onto the sofa. However, just like yesterday, my chance to relax is thwarted within mere minutes when grandma emerges from the kitchen carrying the house phone in her hand.

“Really?” I moan. “Mum again?”

“No, Ian, not your mother,” grandma says, clearly put out by my tone of voice. “Listen to the message.” I nod, before pressing the button and listening to the message- the very first sentence of which makes me sigh with frustration.

“Hi Kayleigh-Ann!” A very familiar West Indian accent greets me. “It’s Abbey-Gayle here, me and the girls was wondering how you was getting on in Wales, like, ‘cause it’s been AGES since we last seen you, so we’s gonna have a call on Skype tonight, we’ll get a group chat going, just like old days, innit? I’ve sent us all a Facebook message to try to get this sorted but you ain’t not seen it yet so I figured I’d call you at home in case your phone was broken or something. Message me when you get the chance, okay? Talk to yous later, Kayleigh-Ann.”

“Ughhhhh,” I moan as I hand the phone back to grandma.

“They ARE still your friends,” grandma says.

“They’re ‘Kayleigh-Ann’s friends,” I retort. “And even then ‘she’ wasn’t too fond of them.”

“Well it’s up to you whether or not you call them,” grandma shrugs. “But if you keep making excuses, it’ll eventually get back to your mum, you know how much she liked those girls, even if you didn’t.”

“I know,” I moan. “Have to keep up appearances until I come out to the world. And I am NOT ready for that yet, not by a long way.”

“As I said, it’s your choice,” grandma says, handing me my laptop. “’Kayleigh-Ann’s Facebook page is still up, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I reply with a long sigh as I switch on my laptop and log back in to the Facebook profile I’d hoped I’d left behind.

Three hours later, after dinner, I find myself laid on my bed staring at my laptop’s screen with an angry scowl. Fortunately, I’ve been able to persuade the other girls- or rather, just ‘the girls’- that my webcam is broken, so my face is still as make-up free as it has been for the past two weeks, and my body is still clothed in the slouchy jeans and t-shirt I wore to college. Whilst this helps to ease my stress, it doesn’t eliminate it, especially once the four girls start talking.

“Like, OMG!” George squeaks, her voice grating on my nerves just as much as it would if she was here in person. “College this year is SOOOO hard!”

“TELL me about it,” Brooke giggles. “Like, this year’s book is, like, three times as long as last years!”

“I’m SO glad I don’t need to read in my course!” Georgie squeaks. I’m amazed you can read at all, I think to myself self-pityingly. “Right, Kayleigh-Ann?” It’s been so long since I was addressed by my birth name, my ‘dead name’, that for a brief second, I don’t even realise that I’m the one being addressed.

“Hmm?” I reply. “Umm… Yeah, but we have to read our scripts, you know?”

“Oh, tee hee!” Georgie giggles, her ignorance yet again acting as a source of amusement for her, and her alone. “OMG! I’m SUCH a ditz…”

“So, Kayleigh-Ann,” Ella giggles. “Got your claws into any cute Welsh BOYS yet?” Ah, what a surprise that this is the first question you ask me, I think to myself.

“I reckon she’s got one there with her now,” Brooke laughs. “That’s why her webcam’s supposedly ‘broken’!”

“OMG!” Georgie squeals. “What’s his name? What’s his name?”

“There are no boys in my bedroom,” I sigh, before the corners of my mouth turn upwards into a smile as I realise that I’m saying isn’t 100% true. There IS a boy in the room… And his name is Ian David Freeman. And he would give anything to be talking to anyone, ANYONE else right now.

The group chat lasts over two hours, by the end of which my brain is numb from the talk of boys, modelling work, dancing, clothes and make-up and my vocal chords feel like they’ll never be able to speak in a masculine pitch again. As I log out of Skype, I let out a long, frustrated scream, before laying back onto my bedsheets. Instinctively, I reach out with my left arm, looking for my trusty stuffed giraffe, but I’m suddenly reminded that Melman, like the rest of my old life, is back in London, and I let out another frustrated scream.

“Ian!?” Grandma asks as she barges into my room, having clearly heard my frustrated yell. “Ian, are you okay?”

“Yes,” I sigh, coughing to try to rediscover ‘Ian’s voice. “Just frustrated, that’s all… That call was NOT pleasant. Then again, they never were…”

“I bet those boys you sit with at college seem like a good choice of friends now, don’t they?” Grandma asks, making me sigh.

“Yes,” I mumble, smiling as I remember the last two days’ lunch periods with Rob and co. “Grandma… I- I’m not trying to sound ungrateful, but- but why are you-“

“Why am I pushing you so hard on this?” Grandma asks, making me nod. “Because I want you to have FRIENDS, Ian. It’s not right that I’m the only person in Cardiff that you know.”

“I know the people at the shop where I work,” I mumble.

“You do six hours on a Saturday,” grandma retorts. “Hardly enough time to make real friends, not like you can at college.”

“I suppose,” I shrug. “I just- I just can’t get Ollie out of my mind, you know? I thought HE was my friend, but he was- well, you know the whole story there…”

“Ollie only saw you as a girl pretending to be a boy,” grandma says. “The boys from college don’t know Kayleigh-Ann, and they never will. From the way you’ve described them, they do seem like nice young men. And you have to ask yourself this: would you rather take a chance making new friends, or would you rather spend all evening in this room screaming into your pillow?”

“But that ‘chance’ could end up with me being in a much, much worse situation,” I say darkly.

“Well that’s why you should bring them round here first,” grandma says smugly. “I’ll cast an eye over them, and you trust your old grandma’s judgement, don’t you?”

“Well, yes-“ I begin.

“Then that’s settled,” grandma says with a grin. “Ian, I’m not going to put you in a position that makes you uncomfortable, but you NEED to have friends your age.”

“I know,” I sigh.

“You get your rest, you don’t want to be yawning all throughout college tomorrow!” Grandma orders before she leaves me alone with my thoughts.

She’s not wrong- I’d be much happier and much better off with Rob’s gang as my friends than with Abbey-Gayle’s gang, something that tonight’s group conversation proved. And it’s not just because around Abbey-Gayle and her gang, I’m forced to become ‘Kayleigh-Ann’ again- something that makes me physically ill- but it’s because Rob, Neil and Lee are obvious close, genuine friends, unlike Abbey-Gayle and co, who are all very obviously only out for themselves and would stab any of the others in the back given the slightest opportunity.

The group chat is still (almost literally) ringing in my ears when I wake up the following morning, and while I eat breakfast and get dressed ahead of college. Fortunately, this doesn’t stop me from concentrating on my work once I arrive at college, and the more I concentrate, the easier it is to shake Abbey-Gayle and co’s babble from my brain until all that’s left are grandma’s words of wisdom regarding friendship. I have a smile on my face- and, as always, a cap on my head- as I walk into the dining hall and quickly locate Rob, Neil and Lee, all of whom greet me with waves and ‘alright’s as I pass their table en route to the dinner queue.

Once I have my lunch, I return to the boys’ table, not needing to wait for an invitation before sitting down.

“Hi, Ian,” Lee says, obviously not realising how much it means to me to be treated as just another one of the guys.

“Hi guys,” I reply. “Fun swimming last night?”

“Yep,” Neil answers. “Sucks that you couldn’t come. You really never learned how to swim?”

“…Never got around to it,” I shrug. “I’m kinda… Not really built for swimming, heh."

"Eh, everybody can swim if given the right instruction," Neil shrugs. "My sister's actually a swimming instructor, I could introduce you, if you'd like?"

"Umm... Maybe some other time," I say, biting my lip to try to control my sudden anxiety.

"She's also nineteen and single," Lee interjects, laughing as Neil gives him a playful (but still hard-sounding) slap on the back of the head.

"...He's not wrong," Neil sighs. "Not entirely sure you'd be her type, though. No offence, Ian, but- but you are kinda, you know, a bit 'effeminate'- no offence, like."

"Nothing I haven't heard before," I shrug.

"And unless you like listening to girls prattle on for hours about make-up, music and dancing, she's probably not your type, either!" Lee laughs.

"No slap this time as he's 100% right," Neil chuckles. "She spends hours each night drowning in Instagram posts but this bunch of airheads called 'The Angels'."

"Yeah, I know- well, knew- a few girls who were that same way," I laugh.

"Obsessed enough to learn French and apply to be a stewardess with the airline they briefly worked with?" Neil asks. "The ones who were on ITV this Monday just gone?"

"Oh- seriously?" Rob asks. "Did Rhiannon really do that?"

"Even went down to a group interview session in London in July," Neil laughs. "Didn't get through, of course, competition for those roles is too great and her French wasn't good enough, but she's probably going to try again next year."

"Isn't that the airline where all the stewardesses are transsexuals?" Lee asks, making my chest suddenly tighten.

"Not all of them, but most of them, yeah," Neil answers. "Rhiannon's favourite member of the Angels is actually the transsexual one, come to think of it."

"Eh, whatever floats her boat, I guess," Rob says as I clench my fists to try to gain the strength to speak.

"It- it's a bit weird, isn't it?" I ask. "You know... Suddenly changing your gender..."

"I don't think there's anything really 'sudden' about it in most cases," Rob answers, catching me by surprise with how insightful he is. "From what I understand, most of the time it's like the person's been struggling their whole life, depressed, that sort of thing."

"I've even heard a few times about people who have killed themselves when they weren't allowed to change their gender," Neil whispers, leading to an awkward silence that makes me feel guiltier than ever at having raised the topic.

"Anyway," Rob says, breaking the silence. "Games night, Ian, you in?"

"I- I'm in," I say, before remembering grandma's offer from last night. "I, umm, don't know when I'll be able to get away, though, don't know if grandma has any chores... Would you- would you mind coming over to my place, like?"

"Umm, I guess," Rob shrugs. "Will need to pack a few things first, it's tabletop games night, does your grandma have, like, a dining room table we can clear for the night?"

"Umm, would a kitchen table do?" I ask, my heart beating faster at the prospect of actually introducing the guys to my grandmother.

"Should be fine," Rob shrugs. "See you around 6pm?"

"It's a- umm, yeah, sounds great!" I laugh.

The afternoon lessons pass by in what feels like seconds, thanks to my excitement for tonight being almost overwhelming. As I pass the trio on my way to grandma's car, I can't help but compare and contrast the chat I had over lunch with the chat I had with Abbey-Gayle's gang last night. Like Rob, Neil and Lee, they also talked about the flight attendant programme that was on TV on Monday (and that I made a point of NOT watching), but unlike the boys, they gushed over the stewardesses one minute, before bitching about them the next. Talking with the boys felt real, natural- not at all like talking to the girls.

"Hello, Ian," grandma says as I sit down and fasten my seatbelt. "Are you going to a friend's house tonight?"

"Umm, no," I say with a sly smile. "But I might have invited a few of my friends over, at around 6?" Much to my relief, grandma simply grins in response.

"Six it is," grandma says. "I guess I'll make an early tea, then..." I grin as we head home, where, much to my relief, there are no voicemail messages waiting for me. I'm still anxious, of course, but for good reasons this time, and I wolf down my tea and finish off my homework as fast as possible so I can prepare myself for the evening's activities- whatever they may entail. One thing's for certain, though- by the end of the night, whether I like it or not, my friends WILL know the truth about me...

I actually jump when a knock comes from the front door- it's only a few minutes before 6pm, and obviously, I was expecting the knock, but it still comes as a surprise to me and causes me to take several deep breaths to calm myself.

"Go and see who's at the door, Ian," grandma says firmly, and it's all I can do not to feel sick with nerves as I open the door to find Rob, Neil and Lee staring back at me.

"Hi guys," I say, unconsciously scratching my chest where my elastic bandage has been in place for almost ten hours. "Come on in!"

"Cheers," Rob says, entering the house carrying a large metal briefcase.

"Umm... You moving in or something?" I tease, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief as Neil and Lee chuckle at my joke.

"No," Rob says. "I did say tonight was tabletop gaming night... Oh, um, hi Mrs. Freeman, thank you for letting us come over tonight."

"That's quite alright," grandma says with a smile. "And it's Mrs. Jones, actually, Freeman- Freeman was Ian's father's surname, I'm his maternal grandmother."

"Oh, okay, sorry Mrs. Jones," Rob says in a very polite manner. "I'm, um Robert, Robert Goddard, this is Neil Wright, this is Lee Charlton."

"Nice to meet you Robert, Neil, Lee," grandma says with a grin. "The kitchen's all yours for when you want it, I've left drinks in the fridge for when you want them, nothing alcoholic, of course."

"Thanks, Mrs... Jones," Rob says as we head into the kitchen, where I breathe a long sigh of relief.

"Oh, cheer up, your grandma's alright," Lee says as Rob opens up his briefcase. "God knows mine would've forced about a hundred scones down our throats by now."

"Yeah, I guess," I say. "What's in the briefcase?"

"Tonight's entertainment," Rob says with a grin as he places several small, carefully painted spaceships onto the table. "You've watched Star Wars, I take it?"

"Umm... Only the most recent one," I reply with a grimace.

"That's okay," Rob shrugs. "These are from the most recent one. Have you ever played anything like Warhammer before?"

"Doubt my parents would've approved," I sigh.

"Meh, okay," Rob shrugs. "Well this is fairly simple to learn. Tell you what, what we'll do it play in teams, me and you vs Neil and Lee, and I'll teach you how to play the game, okay?"

"Sure, sounds great!" I grin as the other three guys begin laying out various dice and game pieces on the kitchen table.

A couple of hours later, after having 'blown up' our spaceships over and over again, Rob packs away his game whilst I have difficulty removing the grin from my place. I don't know if it's because I find the game entertaining- which it is, despite its complexity- or whether it's because I know that if mum saw me playing anything so unapologetically geeky, she'd have an aneurysm and a heart attack at the same time.

"We usually play games like this every Wednesday," Neil explains. "Normally Rob's brother acts as the fourth man."

"Ahh..." I grimace. "Sorry if I kinda, umm, kinda kicked him out."

"Oh trust me, don't be sorry," Rob laughs. "You've only played this once and you're already, like, a hundred times better than he is!"

"...I got the X-wing blown up twice," I say, making the other guys chuckle.

"Yeah, but you didn't fly it into an asteroid," Rob says, making me laugh. "Yep, that did actually happen once."

"So if you want to apologise for giving us actual competition, go ahead," Lee says, making me snort derisively.

"Or not," I retort. "Guys... I really, really had fun tonight."

"Glad to hear it!" Rob laughs. "We have a regular board game tomorrow night, at my house if you want to come along."

"I'd love t-" I begin, before remembering that tomorrow, I have a much more important appointment. "...Ah. Kinda got an appointment- a, um, a doctor's appointment tomorrow evening."

"Not dying, are you?" Lee asks.

"No," I retort, before letting out a long sigh. "Guys... There's something- something you need to know about me."

"Umm... Okay," Neil says with obvious and understandable caution.

"The thing is, I..." I say as I edge closer to the door, ready to escape in case things get very bad very quickly. "I, umm... I'm transsexual."

"Umm... Right?" Rob replies. "So, what... You wish you were a girl?"

"No, I mean I AM a girl," I say, frowning at the confusion in my new friends' faces.

"Isn't- isn't that what I just said?" Rob asks. "Sorry if I'm sounding insensitive, it's not something I'm really familiar with."

"No, no- ugh," I spit. "I mean, I WAS a girl. But I want to be a boy."

"Oh," Lee says, suddenly realising. "So you were a born a girl, but you're now a boy, so you're, like, a girl-to-boy transsexual?"

"Yes," I say, taking several deep breaths and trying not to hyperventilate.

"Right, well, umm, okay then," Rob says with a light laugh. "I don't- I don't really see how this changes anything, umm, do you want us to treat you differently or-"

"No, no I really don't," I say, my breathing returning to normal as I calm down. "All my life I just wanted to be one of the guys."

"Works for us," Rob shrugs. "Right, guys?"

"Sure," Lee says.

"Yep," Neil says with a nod. "So, like, are you taking hormones or something?"

"Not yet," I whisper. "That's what tomorrow's doctor's meeting is for. Well... Hopefully, anyway."

"Huh, okay, well, let us know how it goes, okay?" Rob asks as he hauls his briefcase to the front door.

"Sure thing," I say with a grin, waving off my new friends as they get into Neil's father's car. "Bye..."

"Now they ARE nice boys," grandma says. "I doubt you'll have any problem if you tell them about you know what."

"I- I did tell them," I whisper. "And they were all cool with it. Really cool with it."

"Well then," grandma says with a smug grin. "Looks like you've got yourself a group of genuine friends, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, yeah it does," I say, still unable to comprehend just how well the guys took the news.

When I wake up the following morning, I feel stronger and more confident than ever. All my fears, my anxieties were groundless, and I can put them behind me, where they belong. My name is NOT Kayleigh-Ann, and I am NOT a girl, and I now have three friends to whom my name has NEVER been Kayleigh-Ann, and I have NEVER been a girl.

My confidence manifests itself as a wide grin as I walk into the lunch hall- not wearing my cap today for the first time since I started college- grab my lunch and sit down with my three new friends, all of whom have supportive smiles on their faces.

"Alright mate?" Rob asks as I tuck into my chicken burger.

"Alright," I reply.

"Mate," Lee sighs. "I'm gonna tell you now, what you said last night- we talked a LOT about it once we got home."

"...Okay," I reply. "Hope you were only saying good things?"

"Oh, definitely," Rob says. "You say you're a boy now, regardless of what you were in the past, and that's good enough for us."

"Thanks," I say with a smile.

"Umm, though..." Lee mumbles. "We, umm... Would you mind- would you mind if we, you know, asked, umm-"

"Shoot," I shrug.

"Umm, when- when did you-" Lee asks.

"About three years ago," I say. "I'd always known SOMETHING was wrong. I always got depressed a lot... I was only able to nail down what it was around three years ago."

"So- so did you like, crossdress in men's clothing?" Neil asks.

"Guess you could say that," I shrug. "Used to have a friend in London who helped with that... Turned out he only did that as he wanted me as his girlfriend."

"Oh, what a wanker!" Lee snorts, making me laugh.

"What was- umm, what used to be your name?" Rob asks. "Don't tell us if you don't want to, like."

"...It was Kayleigh-Ann," I sigh. "Kayleigh-Ann Walker. I picked 'Ian' as it sounds like the last two syllables of my old name."

"And obviously you didn't want to be called 'Ian Walker' like the old Tottenham player," Neil says. "So, is- is 'Freeman', you know, a pun? Like, 'free man'?"

"Got it in one," I say. "Seemed the most appropriate name. Well, that or 'Newman'. I preferred 'Freeman', so Freeman it is."

"And I suppose the most important question of all," Rob says, before letting out a long sigh. "God... No, this one's too personal."

"No, it's okay," I say softly. "I know guys aren't supposed to open up to each other, but ask if you want. Though if it- if it's about sex-"

"Oh, HELL no," Rob laughs.

"Though we'd be lying if we said we DIDN'T talk about it last night," Neil mumbles. "I did say yesterday that you kinda looked effeminate... Kinda obvious now that you think about it, heh."

"What's your question?" I ask, trying to steer the topic of conversation away from the S-word.

"Is- is this-" Rob stammers, before letting out a long sigh. "I'm only asking this as it was probably the thing we wondered most last night."

"...It IS about sex, isn't it?" I whisper.

"Not at all," Lee replies. "Not if it's what I think he's going to ask."

"Is being transgendered..." Rob mumbles. "...The reason you're living away from your parents?"

"...Yes," I sigh. "They don't know about it, not yet. Mum always got it into her head I'd be a famous dancer or actress. Dad's the most useless parent in the history of ever, and my paternal grandmother... Ugh. Imagine the only person in the world who thinks that Donald Trump is too liberal, and you'll get her."

"Ugh," Rob spits. "My grandma's kinda the same, she was very pro-Brexit, reckoned that if we left the EU every immigrant would just up and leave the UK. Boy, was SHE surprised."

"Why do old people get more fascist as they get older?" Lee muses.

"Well... Not ALL old people," I say.

"Ah, of course," Rob laughs. "Your 'cool grandma'."

"And she IS cool," Neil laughs. "And, I guess, so are you, Ian."

"Thanks," I reply with a grin. "So are you guys."

"Cheers," Rob says as we finish our lunches and head to our next class. "Good luck at the doctor's tonight."

"Cheers," I say, heading away from the three guys and feeling stronger than ever.

Four hours later, I find myself sat alongside grandma in front of Doctor Harris, and despite my new-found confidence, I'm still nervous, nervous about what my counsellor might say and what she might recommend. Like Doctor Williamson in London, she wanted to make sure that my stress was because of my gender identity issues and not just because of the stress of parental pressure, or exams, or performing on stage- all of which I have, of course, left behind, just like I left behind the identity of 'Kayleigh-Ann Walker'.

"I read the stress journal you emailed me last night," Doctor Harris says in her refined Cardiff accent. "I was very interested in what you wrote about the discussion you had with your girl friends back in London, and how you compared it to the discussion you had with your new friends here in Cardiff. I was also very intrigued to read about your coming out to them- obviously, it's a stressful thing to come out to anyone, but I'm glad to see that it went well."

"Yeah," I mutter.

"It's obvious from what you've written and the way you've written it, that you very much consider yourself to be male," the middle-aged woman continues. "The way you describe your stress at having to keep up the facade of being female, both around your parents and around your friends in London, when combined with our discussions over the last few weeks and your discussions with Doctor Williamson, is enough for me to give a diagnosis of gender identity disorder." My jaw drops as I hear the words I've been longing to hear for so long.

"R-really?" I ask. "So- so I am- I am a boy?"

"Medically speaking," Dr Harris says, "you can be classified as a boy trapped in the body of a female, yes."

"And can I begin treatment?" I ask. "Hormones, surgeries..."

"One step at a time, Ian!" Grandma says, making me bite my lip as my enthusiasm is curtailed.

"Your grandmother's right," Dr Harris says. "We do need to take this one step at a time, but the first step IS hormone replacement therapy. As you're sixteen, we can prescribe a full course of hormones, but what I'd like to do first is start you on a three-month course of testosterone, just a mild dose to see how your body reacts to this. Of course, for this, I will need the permission of your legal guardian."

"Do you feel this will help Ian?" Grandma asks before I have the chance to speak.

"In the long run, absolutely," Dr Harris says. "As per the diagnosis, I believe that Ian is a man trapped in the body of a woman. Hormone therapy is the first step in all transgender treatments as it helps patients to feel like the gender they wish to become, to start feeling comfortable in their own bodies."

"What are the effects?" Grandma asks.

"In the long term," Dr Harris says, "psychologically Ian should start to feel more settled as his body more closely matches his gender identity. Physically, his body will see many changes. He'll begin to grow facial hair and greater amounts of body hair. His body fat will start to redistribute, from his hips and his backside toward his waist. Over time, his skin will become less smooth and his upper body strength will increase. He will also stop menstruating."

"I honestly, truly want all of those things," I say. "In my body, I- I feel weak, like I'm 'incomplete', like I'm only half the person I want to be."

"The one concern I do have," Dr Harris says, "is that you still haven't told your parents. However, I obviously don't need their permission to begin the treatment, I only need your grandmother's."

"And I am prepared to give that permission," grandma says, making me take several nervous, excited breaths.

"The hormones will be administered by weekly injections," Dr Harris says. "I can have the first one ready for you after college tomorrow, if you'd like?"

"Yes! Yes, I definitely would!" I say, making my grandmother and my counsellor giggle.

"Tomorrow it is then," Dr Harris says, and my heart is fluttering with excitement as I leave the doctor's office.

I barely get any sleep before my alarm clock wakes me for the final school day of the week, I'm that excited, and not just because I will begin my physical transformation, but because everything I've thought over the past few years, everything I've believed has been validated, has been proven to be true. I have a piece of paper in my possession that states that I AM a man trapped in the body of a woman. It is the opinion of a medical professional that my name is NOT Kayleigh-Ann, and I am NOT a girl, and there isn't anything anyone can say that will change that.

After a fairly relaxing day at college, completing tasks for my tutor and chatting with my three new friends, I head back home to get changed ahead of my first appointment, but as I head downstairs, the sight of my grandmother holding the house's landline and wearing a frown on her face causes me to stop.

"It- it's your mother, Ia-Kayleigh-Ann," grandma whispers. "She wants to talk to you." I nod, before taking the phone from grandma and desperately trying to remember to speak in my 'old voice'.

"He-hello?" I whisper.

"Hello Kayleigh-Ann," mum says, making me shiver as she uses my dead name. "How was your first week at college?"

"It- it was okay," I mumble.

"...You're rehearsing for Pride and Prejudice, I'd hope it'd be better than just 'okay'," mum sneers. "You ARE working hard, I take it?"

"Of course," I say. Just not in the way you think, I think to myself.

"And have you made new friends?" Mum asks.

"Umm, yeah, a few," I say.

"Well your friends in London still miss you," mum replies. "Especially Abbey-Gayle and Ella. Ella is now signed to the same agency as Abbey-Gayle, so you should try to become closer to her. I always did say that girl was a positive influence." No, I think to myself, you always said that she was a BAD influence. Funny how that changes now she's supposedly in a position to help my 'career'...

"Yeah," I say half-heartedly.

"And your father and I miss you too," mum says. "That's why we're coming up to see you tomorrow." My eyes go wide at the news and I momentarily freeze through fear.

"Umm, no, you- you can't!" I blurt.

"...And why not, Kayleigh-Ann?" Mum asks, clearly angry at my tone of voice.

"I, um, I'm working tomorrow," I say.

"Oh," mum says. "Doing your extra work for that Doctor Who thing?" No, I think to myself, I'm working in a videogame store. But as far as you're concerned...

"...Yeah," I say. "Gonna be busy all day... And all day Sunday, too."

"Oh, okay," mum says. "Well, as long as you're impressing the producers and the directors and making connections in the industry, that's what matters, I suppose. We'll have to come up the weekend after."

"Umm, I guess," I say, my heart beating faster and faster at the prospect of the confrontation with my parents- a confrontation I'm simply not strong enough for, not yet, anyway. "Can- um, I think, um, grandma wants to have a word..." My grandmother looks at me with a stern stare as I hand the phone back to her, though realisation dawns on her as mum begins talking.

"Oh," grandma says. "Oh, I see, yes, she is a busy young lady, isn't she? Well, we'll have to work that out nearer to the time. I'll talk to you soon, Angela." I grimace and bite my lip as grandma ends the phone call and fixes me with a very stern stare.

"I can't keep bailing you out like this, young l- young man," grandma says.

"It won't be forever," I plead. "Just until I feel- just until I'm ready to tell them."

"Ian," grandma sighs sadly. "You know that no matter what happens, I'll always support you, right? Even if your parents reject you, you'll always have a home here."

"I know," I sniffle as I wipe a tear from my eye. "But I- I just want them to love me for who I am. Is that so wrong?"

"No, no of course not," grandma whispers as she gives me a tight, comforting hug. "Do you still want to go and get your injection?"

"More than ever," I reply.

Half an hour later, I wince with pain as a needle is jabbed into my upper arm and a hot liquid flows through it into my veins, quickly diluting into my bloodstream. Even though I know it won't make any physical difference for a long while, inside, I feel different. I now have testosterone flowing through my veins, and that will only become more and more true with every injection.

By the end of the three month course of treatment, I'll hopefully have tougher, coarser skin, a wider waist and narrower hips, a deeper voice and maybe, if I'm really lucky, facial hair. I've taken the first step toward being the boy I always wanted to be, and I'm lucky that my grandmother has taken it with me, and I have genuine, loving friends who'll support me every step of the way- friends who bombard me with questions about the injection the second I arrive at Rob's house for games night.

I just wish, I truly wish that my parents would be willing to take some of these steps with me...