Now, this isn’t the kind of transgender tale where I go crazy with details and describe every single day in infinite minutia. You won’t find me describing my breakfast or my morning shower unless it becomes relevant and dear god I hope it doesn’t. That would truly be a tragic state of affairs indeed. If you only came here to read about descriptions of my panties and the frilliness of my frock you would be a little disappointed I’m afraid.

The second day of school was considerably easier than the first now that the great social bandaid had been torn off the collective student body. People, it seemed, were paying each other far less attention now the threat of actual schoolwork existed. They had caught up with the people they wanted to and anything weird had been processed. It was time to get back to business and while our teachers were willing to give us the inch of a day, but not the mile or two to get re-acclimatized to the system.

The sisters didn’t join us before school today, so I was saved from the awkwardness of socializing with people that both knew and didn’t know about my ‘inner reality’ (Pick your choice of metaphor here). That entire concept was new for me; until this point, nobody at all had known and it had been comfortable in its own way. Sure, it was terrifying, but it was a fear I was used to; I knew its limitations.

Now I was in the wilds of the unknown. Other people had a controlling hand on my secrecy and it was terrifying. A good part of me was relieved that someone else now knew; it did however also create far more opportunities for exposure. If I wanted to keep this under wraps I would have to keep my guard higher than ever.

Homeroom was a non-event and I managed to suffer through my morning classes with little to no fanfare. Education was back on the menu and so far, thankfully, I’m back to being nobody important. I’m very grateful that to most of my classmates, I am just that runt Winters. Nothing to see here folks! Nothing at all!

Lunch and the antics of Count Brandon Von Fükwitt went without any real incident today. Turns out, doing what he asks takes a lot of the sting out of his behavior and he really can’t emasculate someone that doesn’t want to be masculine. Is it irritating? Yes, but it’s easier than causing a fuss. If I keep my mouth shut I’m less tempted to say something stupid.

My major problem with bullies is normally my mouth; it’s big. Not physically of course, but metaphorically it’s huge. When people are assholes I have a troubling tendency to call them on their shit. If you combine this with my insignificant stature then this is a situation that typically ends with me getting a good hiding. As such, I’ve learned to keep my mouth closed and suffer in silence.

The truth is that I’ve also discovered that if you don’t react, they generally leave you alone. Is this approach right? No, of course not, but high school is about survival. All I know is that one day I’m going to be the real me, and someone that will stand up for herself. Until then, I’ll make do so that I can see that day.

My afternoon consisted of history and German classes. Neither of which contained any transgender drama as you might imagine. I would describe them in detail but you would be quite bored unless you have more than a passing interest in describing your lunch or the First World War… or describing your Mittagessen im Ersten Weltkrieg. No? I didn’t think so.

Truth be told, after last night, the moment I was most worried about was the bus ride home. With my history, you can imagine I’m slow to trust people. I can’t lie though, a tiny part of me is really excited to let this out finally.

I follow Gary out to the bus stop a little reluctantly after the final bell. I trusted Meg and Kara most days of the week and with almost anything. The crux of the matter isn’t that I believe they will deliberately out me, but rather, that they would slip and make a mistake. The entire reason I had kept my secret to myself was the same reason that spies kept close circles; the fewer people knew something, the fewer chances for it to be revealed. Granted, three wasn’t significant, but it now included two people with far less invested in the game than me.

The girls were already waiting by the time we arrived at the stop and I gave them a little embarrassed wave before stopping myself as I realized how girly it probably looks.

“Uh, Hey.” I gruff out in my manliest voice. For the record, it’s not very manly.

“Hey Alex,” Meg grinned. “Gary not bore you to death yet?”

“He’s been trying but somehow, my dreams have yet to come true.”

Gary barely has time to scowl at me as the bus pulls up beside us. We all piled aboard for our journey home amongst the throng of school kids all desperate to get away from the place we tolerate.

“Alex, come sit with me,” Meg called grabbing me by the hand and dragging me down into a row of seats towards the rear of the bus.

I shoot her a hard look that I hope translated into Meganese to ‘Don’t say or do anything weird.’ but her stupid grin seemed to suggest otherwise. Kara and Gary following behind drop into the row in front and we set off for home.

“So why the hell are you suddenly so friendly with my sisters dude?” Gary asks, turning around in his seat to face us.

“Can I not be?” I ask innocently.

“We’ve got a similar study style and Alex is helping me with Algebra.” Megan offers her brother, smiling innocently.

Gary frowns and looks between the pair of us. “You said you were getting Physics notes from her yesterday.”

Shit, consistency of story is the first place a good conspiracy falls apart.

“Uh.”

Gary’s eyes narrow. “Dude, Meg… you’re not…”

I look at Gary, Gary looks at Megan, Megan looks at Kara, Kara looks at me, I look at Megan, Megan looks at Gary, Gary looks confused. Three of the four of us burst out laughing, can you guess which?

“Oh my god ew.” Megan gags. “I’m not… I’m not interested in Alex like that.” she rolls her eyes.

“Can’t they just be friends Gary?” Kara asks without looking up as she flicks through a graphic novel. “Boys and girls can be friends.”

“They’re up to something, I can tell.” Gary narrows his eyes and looks at us both. “I don’t like it.”

Megan shrugs nonchalantly. “If you must know, Alex is helping me with Algebra this semester. His Physics story was a cover because he didn’t want to embarrass me. I really can’t afford to fail this class and he’s just better than I am.”

Nice Megan; self-deprecating, logical, and most important for a good cover; boring as hell. Who really wants to dig into remedial algebra lessons? Nobody. This girl has a future as an intelligence operative.

Gary shakes his head and sticks his headphones before proceeding to ignore us.

Meg glances over at me and smiles. Suddenly I don’t feel quite so alone. She knows what we avoided and she knows what it means to me. I take my comments back; having someone who is in the loop and knows why it means so much to me is more important than I realized. I’m not alone now.

 

 

Wednesday Morning started out exactly like Tuesday; everyone in the common room was mostly focused on their own business and gravitated towards their individual friend groups. That’s one of the real benefits of high school if you want to go unnoticed; you might all know each other, but generally, people stick to their cliques and don’t bother the others. For me, that’s the nerds. I’ve told you all of this before, but it’s the best place to hide if you don’t fit in. Even in my precarious state of existence, there's always someone weirder than you.

Homeroom completed, we were kicked out and sent off on our way for our first classes. For me this morning that was Chemistry. I’ll admit, it’s not my strongest subject, but I’m working hard at it. I’ll need a reasonable grade for medicine and I am maintaining a 3.9 GPA at the moment. I need to improve that if I want my best chance and it won’t be coming from Phys Ed that’s for darn sure.

Speaking of which, today is the first Gym class of the semester. I have yet to find a valid excuse to avoid it and I'm running out of time. It starts after lunch, so I have the morning classes to work out something viable or I’m totally screwed. Megan is absolutely right; there really is no way I can actually change with the guys. It would be like throwing a Prada bag to a gaggle of Karens.

Have you ever tried to get out of something you didn’t want to do? It ends up just turning your mind into absolute brain fog. You become so hyper-focused on finding a solution that you miss everything obvious and simple. Had I considered just faking an illness that day and skipping? Sure, but when your mother is a Doctor that idea is basically impossible. The same goes for just skipping class or ditching after lunch. At a school like this, that kind of thing makes it back to your parents almost instantly and results in international sanctions from the parental UN Council. No, any solution I come up with needs to come from within school and there alone. More importantly, it has to pass the parental smell test… Difficult eh?

Classes finish up and I’m sitting at the lunch table. Honestly, I’m considering going home early and just not showing up. Sure I’d take some heat for it, but so far, it's been the best idea I can come up with. I may get found out but it will buy me some precious time. I simply cannot get exposed at school above all else.

“God this fish is awful,” Lord Brandon sneers, shoving his plate to one side. “I’m shocked they’d serve this to us with what my Father pays.”

Rick, the junior I met the other day, takes a bite and chews thoughtfully. “I don’t know, it tastes fine to me.”

I wonder if this is my opportunity. It always works in the movies right? “I don’t know,” I offer drawing their attention as I push my half-finished plate aside. “It does taste funny to me,” I mutter. “I don’t feel fantastic either.”

“Aw, little baby got a funny tummy?” Brandon sneers. “We can’t possibly have that now can we?”

Yes, the guy who literally started this fish discussion is now using it as a stick to beat me with, what’s new in hypocrisyville today?”

“I think I need to go to the bathroom. I’ll catch up with you guys,” I mutter and slide out from the bench. I start walking briskly back towards the main door as Brandon calls out behind me. “You can’t leave yet, we’re not done!”

He’s not entirely wrong, we should typically wait till lunch is complete before leaving but it's not a black and white rule. My plan is simple; head to the nearest bathroom and get myself to throw up. It’s risky, and I hate the idea but it's got a real shot of working. As it stands it’s my only remaining option and it requires a bit of prep work.

Have you ever tried to make yourself throw up? It’s surprisingly difficult when push comes to shove. You have to fight your natural urge to stop yourself gagging and force yourself to leave your fingers in your throat. You’d think it would be easy with how bad this bathroom smells.

Don’t misunderstand, the bathrooms here are spotless and the school is a very hygienic place. It is difficult for me to explain quantifably, but since starting hormones, my perception of smell has shifted dramatically. Now quite a lot of things smell different and boys are a major one. They are a confusing mixture of interesting and disgusting scents that both enthrall and appall me in equal measure. One of the ones that ironically makes me gag is the overpowering stench of the boy's bathroom. The problem is on its own it’s not quite enough to get the job done.

I managed to keep my fingers in place long enough to trigger convulsions of my stomach right as the door to the bathroom creaked open. “Alex?” A voice calls out, reverberating off the tile walls and high ceiling. It sounds familiar but I can’t place it while I’m on the porcelain telephone to god.

I moan out something unintelligible after returning my lunch to the toilet bowl. The door moves gently against the lock as someone tries the handle. “Alex, are you alright?”

“Threw up,” I mutter wiping my mouth on some toilet paper. “I feel like crap.”

“Open the door, Alex, you need to go to the nurse.”

I reach behind me from my spot on the dubiously clean floor and unlatch the door. It opens carefully and Rick from Lunch leans in He frowns when he sees me on the floor. “Are you ok? You took off so fast I had to come and check.”

I glance back at the toilet and make a face, “the fish wanted a word.”

Rick nods as though he expected this. “Come on, I’m taking you over to the nurse’s office.”

“I’ll be fine,” I grimace, “it’s not worth the bother.”

Now you see, there’s a certain level of protest expected when faced with an offer like that. As a boy, I would want to seem tough and unbothered by such trivialities as food poisoning. A real man would shrug it off and go back down the mines to work his shift. If I’m too quick to accept his suggestion it might seem like the act that it actually is.

Well, act of sorts. My already irritated stomach convulses a second time driving me into a series of dry heaves over the bowl in full view of this guy. Not exactly my proudest moment. Hey, at least he didn’t hold my hair. When I’m convinced I’m done I slump back down and wipe my mouth. “Ugh.” I groan. It's not my finest idea this.

“Yeah, you’re fine,” Rick fires back. “Cut the bull and let me take you.”

I nod weakly, now feeling far sicker than I had planned. Without waiting for me to stand, Rick pulls me to my feet with surprising ease and supports me with an arm around my torso. I nearly die of panic as I realize his left arm is literally inches below my breasts. Not thinking I grab his arm and hold on tight. It looks like I need support staying upright but it’s really to make sure he doesn’t touch something awkward..

“Steady dude, I’ve got you. Let’s get you over to the nurse.”

Rick leads me out to the door and back into the hallway. Our sitting is still in lunch and the others are mostly outside meaning that the halls are relatively quiet. Before long, we’re exiting our school and walking across the central quad to the Girl’s Division opposite.

I didn’t mention that, did I? The school nurse and her clinic are located in the Girls Division which belongs to our campus. I used to love going to see her when I was younger because, for a few minutes, I could pretend I belonged there with the other girls. There was something special about closing my eyes and only hearing female voices; it felt right.

“I can’t stick around too long,” Rick continues the one-sided conversation he’s held since we left the bathroom. “I have football practice this afternoon and the coach will kill me if I’m too late.”

“Yeah, that’s ok. I mean, thanks, I guess.” I mutter. “You didn’t need to bother really.”

“Sure I did, don’t be stupid Alex! I couldn’t just leave you there in a filthy toilet stall.”

For someone I barely know, he seems to care an awful lot. This seems unusual in my eyes as life has taught me that nobody really cares unless they have to. That people only ever do nice things if they want something, or they feel that they are obligated. The very idea that someone might help to simply be a decent human being feels rather suspicious to me.

Entering the school and signing in at the reception, we navigate the ground floor corridors before arriving outside the nurse’s office. Rick uses his free hand to open the door and guides me bodily inside. The nurse looks up from her novel and suddenly appears far more focused as she spots me being helped in by the huge football player.

“Oh dear, come on, set her down over here.”

Her? Oh shit.

Rick it seems, hasn’t noticed the perilous pronoun and proceeds to explain what’s going on. “We had fish at lunch, some guys were saying it tasted weird and then Alex took off to the bathroom, I found him on the floor throwing up.”

The nurse seems to take a better look at me then and I see the confusion in her eyes. “Right, very good of you to bring, him, over. Let’s get him sat down over here,” she adds gesturing to an exam table.

Rick guides me over to the table and helps me to sit down. I let my shoulders sag and generally hunch myself over as though I’m in pain. “Thanks.” I smile weakly. “Look, I’m sorry for wasting your lunch break.”

Rick shakes his head and grins. “Hey, it’s nothing dude, I just wanted to make sure you’re ok right? Brandon was making cracks about you being a wuss but when you didn’t come back I just wanted to make sure. Good job I did huh?”

“Brandon’s an asshole,” I mutter darkly.

Rick smirks and nods. “True enough, he’s the one guy we all love to dump in practice.”

“Right, off you get dear, leave me with…?”

“Alex,” Rick answers for me.

The nurse smiles. “Alex, right. Well, thank you, young man, off you go.”

Rick beats a retreat with a little wave and I get the weirdest feeling ever… like I was glad he was there... What the heck is wrong with me?

The nurse isn’t some old fuddy stuck here in a high school after she retired from a real job. No, she’s an honest to god real nurse. In her mid-forties, she’s been here as long as I was with the school. Apparently, her mom was the nurse here before she was. When she retired, Nurse Carter left her job at the local hospital to take her place; tradition is weird at this school.

“So funny fish eh Alex?” the nurse asks as she begins examining me. “That boy said you’ve been vomiting?”

I nod weakly. “Yeah, just once or twice, but I feel kinda awful.”

“You do look a bit pale,” Nurse Carter muses as she checks me over. “I’ll need you to lose some of these layers,” she adds. I’d like to take a look at your tummy.”

Fuck… Plan A to exit the frying pan has left me squarely in the fire that was heating the pan in the first place. You’d have thought an intelligent girl like me might have foresaw that visiting the nurse might put me in the crosshairs of some form of exam? It’s not like I’m medically naive; as mentioned, my mom is a doctor and I’ve grown up around them my entire life. The very thing I needed to skip gym for might well get spotted.

I shrug out of my suit jacket and unzip my hoodie. If I’m able to keep my shirt mostly on I should be fine.

“Lie back and lift your shirt up, dear.”

I recline on the exam table and lift my shirt to expose my abdomen. Thankfully the bunched fabric keeps my chest covered and I’m not raising it any higher. The nurse palpitates (that’s doctor for presses) around and seems to frown a few times. “Ok, you can put your shirt down, dear.”

I sit up and wince a little. Turns out that forcing yourself to vomit can pull some muscles. Nurse Carter interprets this as more discomfort.

“I can give you something for the nausea, but you’ll want to stay here for a while so I can monitor you. I think you’re going to be fine; your body rejected whatever it was pretty quickly and there’s no indication that it is a deeper problem.”

“Yeah, it wanted out pretty quick.” I agree weakly. “I’m really sorry to be a fuss.”

“It’s nothing at all dear. Come on through to the other room and take one of the beds for an hour or so, alright?”

Result! Our school infirmary has a small ward for kids who need to rest or stick around to get collected by a parent or ambulance. In cases like mine, it’s just so she can keep an eye on me until she’s satisfied I won’t implode on the spot. Either way, the result I wanted is here; a valid excuse to not be present for Phys Ed. If I miss the start, she’s not going to clear me to rejoin the others part way through. To borrow a football metaphor, it was a hail Mary pass in the 90th minute and I made it stick for the touchdown. Look at me talking sports like a real boy!

A quick injection and I’m shuffled off to a bed in a quiet corner of the little infirmary. Settling into the creaky metal hospital bed I feel pretty smug about the outcome of this one. Have to admit, I didn’t expect Rick to help me sell it, nor for him to care that much. He’s not anyone I really know that well; I’ve seen him around but we don’t share any classes. Lunch this semester is the first time we’ve interacted for an extended period of time and he seems right. Generally, I avoid the football players, they tend to run short on brain cells; just look at Rob!

The bed is not exceptionally comfortable but it does the job. Soon, I’m dozing lightly in the dim light of the room. Honestly, other than a few sore muscles and a little lingering stomach pain from forcing myself to vomit, I only feel extreme relief. This will only work once and I’ll have to find something else for next week; a new solution of some kind. Perhaps with a bandage, I can bind things and get away with changing in a bathroom. Who knows, but I’m not going to be able to dodge this all year. It is a grade after all and I will need it.

While I’m lying there kind of sleeping I can hear the nurse on the phone. From the sound of it she’s on the phone to the office; likely telling them where I am so that I’m not marked tardy. The phone clicks then I can hear her dialing again.

“Hello, Mrs Winters?”

Oh shit.

“Oh, sorry Doctor, perfect!”

Oh fuck.

“Well It’s not an emergency, but I have Alex here. Yes, well… no, he’s fine really. He’s had an upset stomach, likely a mild case of food poisoning… Yes, yes, I already spoke to the kitchen staff and the office. I’m informing you if you wish to collect… no, of course. I gave him a low dose of Zofran, he should be fine. No intestinal hardness so given that he expelled… yes, I agree, no real danger being here. I will Ma’am, of course.”

There’s silence for a moment as I assume my mother speaks with Nurse Carter.

“One last thing Doctor Winters… yes… Well, when I examined Alex I noticed that he’s severely lacking in muscle tone, I might recommend a visit to his primary care physician. For a boy his age he’s a little on the lower end of the spectrum. If I didn’t know better I might think… perhaps, yes… okay… I will do that, thank you… Goodbye.”

The Frying pan to fire jump was only briefly dodged as I apparently tripped and dove head-first into a new pan full of boiling cabbage. When it comes to her kids, Doctor Mom doesn’t comply with any of the known Hague or Geneva Conventions on armed conflict.

“I’ll let him know. Ok, thank you Doctor Winters, Goodbye.”

I hear the phone hit the cradle then a chair roll as I close my eyes and pretend to be resting. I can hear the nurse walk into the room and tap lightly on the door frame. “Alex, are you asleep dear?”

I crack an eye and look across at her innocently.

“I just spoke with your mom, she’s not able to get away from the hospital and your dad is at work, she said you have a key?”

“Yeah, we all do.”

Nurse Carter smiles. “Great, I’m going to have the office call a cab and have them take you directly home. Rest up for the afternoon and we’ll see you bright and early tomorrow. I’d advise you to visit your urgent care if necessary but with Mom around… I think you’ll be fine.”

So yeah, Mom being a doctor is not ideal when you’re paying hormonal buckaroo with your own puberty but surprisingly unless it’s their specialty or they look too hard, doctors are as blind as anyone else. Plus, Mom is a surgeon, so she focuses on the physical not the hormonal. How convenient would having an Endocrinologist for a mother be? Her specialty or not, whatever the nurse was waffling on about might subject me to a parental exam, however. This might present a problem, but I can work my way around it if I have to. A tantrum isn’t ideal, but I can potentially argue that I want a neutral doctor to see me naked if it comes to it. Unlike a mother, they have to keep schtum, good old Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act.

 

 

I was lying on my bed later that afternoon watching TV when my cell phone rang. It wasn’t a number I recognized, but I’m a curious teen with no sense of caution so I pick up anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hey, is that Alex?”

It’s a male voice that I’m not 100% positive I recognize, but It seems familiar.

“Yes, who’s this?”

“Rick, from School?”

“How’d you get my number?”

The voice chuckles, “I spoke to your friend Gary. He was hesitant to give it to me, he figured I wanted to kick your ass or something. I managed to convince him I just wanted to make sure you were good. I heard you got sent home?”

I must make a note to remember to kill Gary later.

“Oh, yeah I did. She gave me something for the nausea and sent me home to rest. Go to the urgent care if I turn into a scene from Aliens, you know?”

“That’s good,” Rick replies sounding pleased. “I didn’t see you come back from the nurse so… yeah I dunno, just wanted to make sure you hadn’t died or something.”

“Yeah, if I had I think we’d have heard. The food’s not great, but it’s yet to be weaponized.”

“Well uh, I’m glad you’re doing ok, um, I’ll let you rest ok?” I’m not sure why but suddenly Rick seems awkward. Then again why he would even call to check on me is a bit unclear.

“Ok, well thanks for checking, see you around dude.”

He hangs up and I stare at the handset for a minute feeling a little bemused. It was nice of him to check on me and it reminds me of just how easily he lifted me off the floor. A weird conversation to be sure. I actually feel happier knowing someone cared, even if I did fake it. Not even the presenter of the number himself Gary bothered to check.

Just before six that evening there’s a knock and the door creeks open as Mom sticks her head inside my bedroom. “Darling, everything ok?” Still in her scrubs from the hospital, she’s got this concerned look on her face that usually means she’s worried about me. Given today’s activities it's warranted for once.

“Yeah Mom, I’m fine, really.” I offer her a smile to show I’m really alright. “Something weird for lunch but I feel fine now. It just got me all out of shape for a while.”

Mom makes her way into the room and plops down on the end of the bed beside me. She focuses her attention on me in that motherly way that makes me feel protected. “You sure? No persistent effects or nausea?”

I shake my head. “I feel fine now, a little sore maybe but that’s it.”

“Hmm,” she murmurs. Despite years of medical schooling, on-the-job training, and advanced technology at her fingertips, she sticks the back of her hand on my forehead and looks thoughtful for a second as she judges my temperature by hand, literally.

“Seems normal, no fever, no other reported cases of food poisoning. Now I wonder, and this is just me hypothesizing, is this some grand conspiracy to get out of gym class?”

Crap.

“No, I actually threw up.” I protest, coloring up immediately.

Mom frowns and shakes her head. “The nurse seemed to agree with you, but she did seem a little concerned that you were a little underdeveloped… physically.”

Mom has literally no filter when it comes to medical matters, she couldn’t even soften a blow like that even if it might have offended me. I mean, what mother thinks it’s cool to tell their teenage son that they’re physically underdeveloped? That shit is how people get a complex.

She continues unbidden. “I was… well, your father and I know you’re not the biggest boy, we were worried that maybe you felt inferior to the others?”

How to best play this? This question represents the trans teenager’s golden opportunity to come out. It’s either the best segway into the, ‘but I’m really a girl mom,’ pathway or the point where you vehemently deny femininity because girls stink! The third pathway is my choice, obviously, I can’t do anything simple, can I? I’m surely not going to admit to my feelings but it doesn’t mean I can’t lay some groundwork. Honestly, during this period of time I was doing whatever I could to try and feel them out, hoping some cosmic sign would show they loved me enough to understand. Sounds pessimistic, but it turns out that fear makes you incredibly blind.

“Mom, I promise I was actually sick ok?”

Statement = True.
Causality = Not Relevant, shut up.

“Yeah, I’m much smaller than most of the guys and sure, I’m not exactly a super sports enthusiast. I can promise you I don’t feel inadequate or less than the other boys; I’m kinda fine with being on my own path.”

This is my way of saying that yes, I have noticed a variance from the standard type (In this case because I caused it) and that I’m ok with that situation (reason; unclarified). I acknowledge a deviation away from a stereotypical male behavioral pattern and that I have a diverging pathway. In isolation it’s neutral, but in context, I’m testing the water and laying the groundwork. If they find out one day, there will have been signs. (Huge neon pink ones)

Mom eyes me for a moment before pursing her lips and nodding, seemingly satisfied. It seems to have had the desired effect for the time being. “I’d still like to book you in with Doctor Harris anyway, I want to make sure nothing is wrong with you overall.”

Not unexpected outcome, can circumnavigate issue, minor concern going forward.

“Sure Mom, I’ll see him, but I’m okay really, I promise.”

Mom ruffles my hair and smiles fondly. “Ok kiddo, I do worry though. You get some rest and I’ll bring you up something light for supper.”

God, I want to tell her the truth so badly it hurts. What hurts me more is that I lean heavily on the belief that her love is conditional on my being a boy and being normal. I cherish that feeling of love, possibly more, knowing that it could all disappear one day. I fear coming out in equal parts because I fear their reaction and also, perhaps more importantly; what society will put them through.

Mom heads off to acquire sustenance for child number three seemingly satisfied with my answers. I feel relieved; I’ve seen off the risk for this week, but I have so many more to face. Not sure what I can do, but I will find a way I’m sure. This is going to be the hardest semester of my life. When I told myself I could do this and manage to keep it quiet for two whole years until college I must have been insane.

You think this story needs more romance, skirt spinning, and girl bonding, don’t you? Yeah, there’s some coming, but fear not. I’m still trying my hardest to hide the obvious, so I’m currently in my ‘act as manly as possible and hope nobody notices era’. This is apparently only working in my own head.

 

 

The remainder of the week was almost business as usual now we had found our rhythm again. The routine of school has kicked back into full flow and we are firmly focused on our work. I wasn’t kidding when I said private schools don’t mess around with easing you back into the semester. They know our parents want their money’s worth and work us like child slaves. At this age too, they’re focused on getting us ready for college. At a school like this, that’s an expectation, not an option.

It’s exactly this workload that has me snowed under in the library on Friday afternoon the first week back. I have a free period after lunch and I’m working on knocking out a History essay and a handful of Algebra problems so that I don’t have to waste my weekend with this stuff.

“Hey Alex,”

I glance up and see Rick staring at me from the end of the table. This dude is turning into a bad penny. “Can I help you?”

“Nothing, wanted to say hi, homework?”

This is suspicious. Nobody just wants to say hi to me, I’m not that important.

“Yeah, a bunch of stuff I want to get rid of before the weekend, you know?”

Take the hint buster, clear off, and let me get this essay done. What does he do? The asshole pulls out a chair and sits down.

“So how come I’ve not seen you at lunch since Fishageddon?” I ask, not looking up from the math problem I’m solving.

“Coach has us doing extra drills over lunch breaks in the run-up to the first game. Kinda sucks but it should pay off.”

“This is why I don’t take part in any sports; Nobody can take away my free time.”

Rick chuckles, “You come to the games though right? I think I saw you at a few last year.”

“My brother is on the team; Rob Winters.”

“That’s it!” I thought you looked familiar!”

I look up from the problem I was working on and raise an eyebrow. “I look nothing like that anthropological divergence.”

“Oh!, yeah, no, I mean, there’s a family resemblance of course you don’t look like him. I didn’t mean….”

I’m not sure if he’s stupid or blind, or a combination of all three. I just stare at him while his brain tries to find a gear. Why is this confident, sporty, popular guy tripping over himself?

Rick grins and seems to collect himself. “Sorry, I swear that makes sense in my head. But hey, means you’ll be there tonight, right? For the game?”

I give him a cautious look and narrow my eyes. “Uhuh, most likely yes.”

Rick grins and nods to himself, “Cool! Look, I’ll let you get finished Alex, maybe see you later I guess?”

With a dumb half-wave and a grin the errant jock departs and lets me get back to my work in peace. I still have no idea what the hell he wanted.

This is future Alex speaking, well, I’m Holly at this point… but that’s not exactly a spoiler is it? Timelines are confusing leave me alone. While you, dear reader might find the developing narrative exceedingly obvious, Alex doesn’t see anything yet. At this point, our hapless heroine is only just clawing her way out of the swamps of asexuality to discover that she finds boys attractive. She hasn’t yet gained any ability to detect when a guy is hitting on her or showing interest. What makes it even funnier is that at this point in time is that some guys don’t even realize how they’re treating her/him either. It’s comedy gold in hindsight, but to all parties involved at the time, it's uncomfortable and strange.

Why am I talking to you now from the future? I don’t know, perhaps I’m bored and there’s a rift in the multiverse. Yes, those films all happened, but you have to remember back in little Alex’s mind, it's thankfully back when superhero movies were few, and largely awful.

 

 

Living so far from school makes traveling back for games a huge pain in the ass. I only go to these games for two reasons; one, to support my brother. I might not be like him, but I do love Rob. There’s absolutely no way I wouldn’t want to cheer him on. He’s actually pretty good for an unevolved ape man too. The second and most advantageous reason is that Dad is convinced that I at least like sports. Which, in the absence of playing them, somewhat gets him off my back.

Do you think I watch it? Well, yes, I do. I even have a vague idea of what goes on in a football game, color me different from most trans-fiction protagonists who are so desperate to be as feminine as possible. Girls can watch sports too!

There are still the last vestiges of summer in the air as we make our way into the stadium just before six that evening. It’s the first game of the season so it’s always been a pretty popular one with the students and families. We’re playing a local public high school and a lot of their people have shown up too. I think they just enjoy using our facilities.

“Alex! Over here!”

I glance over my shoulder and spot Kara and Meg elbowing their way through the crowd towards me. I slow my pace out of the way of the press of bodies and the girls come bounding up.

“Oof! No Gary?” I squeak out as I get hugged simultaneously by the pair of them.

“You think dweeb boy wants to come watch the game? Meg smirks, “Come on, we can get good seats before they’re all taken.”

I had agreed to meet up with the sisters earlier in the week. They, it turns out, mostly come to ogle football players and a tiny amount of misguided school spirit. We find seats halfway up the home bleachers and away from a lot of the other students and get settled in.

“You know, I don’t actually see a boy here at all tonight.” Meg opines giving me a once over. “Are you sure you’re not sailing too close to the wind, chica?”

I deflate, “This is me being full boymode.”

Oh, I forgot you guys love to hear clothing described in detail. Tonight, I’m wearing a far too large school hoodie that once belonged to my brother Rob and a pair of regular boy jeans. Such feminine attire right? This scintillating detail for you lovers of good transgender fiction, I think not. The hoodie is precious to me; once it hid my incorrect body, now it disguises and protects me as my body becomes what it’s meant to be. Hoodies are a trans girl’s best friend. Something something dysphoria hoodie.

It’s a zip-front style in our school’s maroon with big but faded gold lettering for our team, the Lions. With my hair in my usual low ponytail that I keep tucked into the back of the hood, I suppose I do look a little tomboyish. What I haven’t factored in and what Meg is putting down is that it’s a neutral outfit, unlike my school suit, it doesn’t lean one particular way. Normally not something I’d worry about, but she does have a good point.

“Shut up, nobody will notice,” I mutter.

“Gir…dude, relax. It’s only because we know ok?”

I give her a sideways grin and shrug.

Kara leans over and jokingly punches me in the arm. “Don’t worry sport, we got your manly back.”

I roll my eyes. With friends like them, who needs enemas?

Our attention is drawn down to the pitch as the pregame festivities begin. The band marches out and the cheerleaders start their routines. All of a sudden we enter the gaudy spectacle of high school sports; American Style.

I won’t bore you with details of the game, you didn’t come for that and honestly, I can’t remember. The team we’re playing isn’t particularly good and we end up flattening them 56/12. Rob, I’m glad to see got plenty of game time tonight. He’s a Defensive End and based on tonight’s performance, a pretty successful one. Many a play was foiled by our defensive line’s patented smash and grunt technique; high sporting science.

I did notice my new shadow getting some field time tonight too. The Juniors don’t tend to get the whole game or to start unless they’re spectacular, but Rick was fielded for the third and fourth quarters tonight in Wide Reciever; good for him.

Do I feel jealous seeing the girls on the cheer squad doing their thing pitchside? Sure. This wouldn’t be a trans high school story if I didn’t express some sort of jealousy or even mention them. Not for the role they fill, of course, I personally think it’s playing into the patriarchy in an outdated and archaic way that forces young girls to take a supporting role to boys from an early age.

I do however feel jealous that they can freely express their femininity in such a public setting. The girls are gorgeous and honestly, I dream of moving through this world in such an unshamedly feminine manner. Would I prefer to do gymnastics for my physical education credits? Absolutely. Shake pom poms for the boys? Eh, not so much.

“Hey Rob!” Meg croons as we arrive pitchside after the game. The players are hanging around chatting to family and fans after the rip roar victory, so spirits are high. Rob looks over his shoulder and spots Meg and Kara, he grins broadly at the sisters before spotting me to one side.

“Alex dude, you came?”

I smile fondly at my brother. “Not going to miss you flattening people Rob, great game.”

He smiles at me, and it’s times like this when I actually feel that sibling love. I just wish I was his sister, rather than his brother.

“We came to cheer you on!” Meg offers interrupting the moment. “Awesome game!”

I can smell her interest a mile off and i resist the urge to smile. Megan has crushed on my brother for years and he’s oblivious to her interest. He merely grins at her and takes the compliment without even noticing that she clearly put extra effort into her outfit, hair, and makeup tonight. Is it weird that one of my closest friends is into my brother? No.

Until recently I had zero interest in anything romantic or sexual. So other people’s romance or sexual interest was something I could observe from a detached third-party perspective. I never felt revulsion or imagined them doing things because I didn’t care. While Megan’s never told me that she liked him in so many words, it wasn’t hard to notice. I suppose it was never something we would have talked about until, well, now. I will say observing the cringe from a third-party perspective does have its amusing moments.

We’re chatting about nothing in particular when I feel a hand clasp my shoulder. Turning, I come face to face with a wall of Lions football uniform. Looking up, I stare straight into Rick’s smiling face. “Uh, hi.”

“Hey, enjoy the game?”

“Yeah, I did, cool that you got some game time.”

Rick grins and nods happily. “Yeah, it was ace. Coach put me out at half time and I even managed to score a touchdown!”

“Yeah, I saw,” I remind him, “I was here.”

“Man I’ve got such a buzz right now, I’m ready to play again.”

I’m happy for the guy, but his enthusiasm is quite excessive for a high school game. You’d think he just won the Super Bowl. I default to the smile and nod.

“Well you might need to wait till next game eh?”

Rick looks between me and the girls, “We’re all going to West’s after we get changed, you guys coming with?”

“I hadn’t planned,” I admit. “It’s not really my scene.”

“I mean you’d be more than welcome, plenty of friends and family come along.”

Rob takes this moment to overhear the conversation and step in, saving me an embarrassing refusal. “Dude, you need to realize that my little bro is completely antisocial. The fact he comes to my games still boggles my mind. I’m pretty sure something like West’s would put him in meltdown.”

I shrug, “Yeah he’s got a point. I’d only cramp the cool football vibes.”

“Ah, all good, another time huh?” Rick looks briefly sad about my refusal but quickly turns back towards Rob. “Come on dude, let’s hit the showers. Bye, Alex!”

The two players trot off towards the locker rooms leaving me alone on the field with the sisters. Our reason for being here is over, so it’s time to head for home. I’m catching a ride with the sister’s parental taxi, so we make our way towards the parking lot.

As we walk, Meg slips her arm through mine and leans in. “So not only do I discover you’re really a girl and annoyingly, but now I find out you’ve got a football player panting over you? Girl, you’ve been holding out on us.”

I try to shake my arm loose of the girly embrace and stare at her. “What did you say?”

Megan looks at me like I’m speaking Klingon, or stupid, or both. “You can’t see it? Rick Taylor back there? He’s so into you it’s unbelievable.”

I turn the same shade as my hoodie as I shake my head vehemently. “No way, nuh huh, nope. No he’s not.”

“She’s right,” Kara offers unhelpfully, “he really is into you. Pretty much the same way Meg wishes your brother was into her.”

“Kar, what the fuck?”

Kara rolls her eyes. “Alex already knows, you aren’t subtle at all Sis.”

Megan looks between us dejectedly and deflates. “OK fine, I’m sorry Alex.”

Hey, I’m off the menu, I’m happy to be gifted some moral high ground for once. I squeeze her arm and smile. “Honestly, it’s cool; I don’t mind actually. I’ve known you were into him for a while now anyway. Like Kara said, you aren’t exactly subtle about it, to anyone with a brain.”

“This is why it's obvious you’re a girl.” Kara points out. “A boy wouldn’t notice stuff like that.”

“It wasn’t like she was hiding it.” I shrug, keeping my happy little affirmation inside.

“We’re not getting off topic here though,” Meg continues. “You are aware Rick Taylor is into you right?”

Shit.

“Uh, no, we’re just friends. He helped me out the other day, I barely even know the guy, honest.”

Meg raises an eyebrow. “I’m no expert, but that boy was crushing bad. It’s interesting though, I never really had him picked as gay.”

“I don’t think he is,” Kara offers as we walk. “It’s not like Alex here is exactly a bastion of masculinity. He might be, but I’d think it’s more likely that he’s not actually aware of what he’s doing.”

“Alex is here you know,” I complain.

Meg ignores me and continues to talk over me. “That’s true! Wait, do you think he’s like, picking up on vibes and stuff?”

“Probably,” Kara agrees. “Oh boy, Alex, if he realizes what he’s doing, you’re going to have one really confused dude on your hands.”

“What the hell do I do?” I groan.

Megan bounces on her heels with excitement. “Do you think he’s hot? Wait, we don’t even know if you’re even into boys or girls?”

I slow down slightly and glance around to make sure we’re alone in the rapidly emptying parking lot. I take a moment to walk over to a low wall and sit down, hugging the hoodie against myself against the growing cool of the evening. “I’m pretty sure I’m into boys, as far as I know. It kinda started raising its head this summer.”

“That makes sense,” Kara offers, “You did start hormones. You’re going through puberty and it’s starting to fire off all those signals.”

“I suppose. But no matter what, I can’t and won’t do anything about it while we’re here at school. I don’t want a guy to be into me as a boy, and I can’t have a guy be into me as a girl. I just gotta knuckle down and ignore it till college, when I can be me.”

“I still don’t think you’ve got a prayer of making it to college as a boy.” Meg snorts.

I give them both a serious look. “I’ve got to, I don’t have a choice.”

Meg looks more serious for a moment as she squeezes my hand and smiles sadly. “I know sweetie, I know.”

Daddy Taxi arrives at that moment, ending our heart-to-heart. I rapidly recenter myself and push the Alex mask up to the front as we pile into the car.

“Hey girls, where’s Alex? Wasn’t he getting a ride with you?”

“Uh, here Mister Byrne.” I offer from the darkness of the back seat.

The girls' dad looks in the mirror more carefully. “Oh, ah, sorry Alex, didn’t see you back there. Still not hit a growth spurt I see?”

I sigh, I must remember this is meant to be sad. “No Mr Byrne, one day soon I guess.”

As we drive homeward I manage to sink into obscurity as the girls regail their father with tales of the game and the social gossip of school. It lets me think though, and oh boy, do I suddenly have a lot to think about.

Is Rick really into me? Is he gay, or is this some psychological thing he isn’t aware of? I mean, it makes sense if you think about it; I’m probably giving off confusing pheromones or something. Oh god, am I going to suddenly start attracting boys who will kick my ass for turning them gay?

This wasn’t part of my plan. Thanks to my… sexual awakening over the summer vacation I know with reasonable certainty that I’m straight. Girls seem to do nothing for me and boys, well, boys absolutely do something for me. I’ve been trying to avoid seeing my classmates in a romantic light and so far I’ve been pretty successful. The biggest advantage for them is that I know them, and most of them are assholes.

Rick is a blindspot for me; I don’t know him that well and he seems to be problematically nice. Is he attractive? God yes he is; he’s tall and lean with dark hair and noticeable muscle. He’s got a light dusting of facial hair and this chiseled handsome face that does things to me when he smiles. The other day when he helped me to the nurse's office I could feel his easy power as he lifted me up. No matter what I might think, I cannot permit myself to even casually crush on him. I have to maintain my focus on the task at hand; surviving undetected. Anything of this sort is going to cause issues I cannot afford.

 

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