My phone’s ringtone woke me rather abruptly on Saturday morning. Isn’t it awful when you’re in the middle of a perfect dream, and then all of a sudden, the voice of the gorgeous dream boy you’re snuggled up with changes from a deep husky rumble into the shrill Nokia ringtone. It kinda puts the kybosh on any pleasant thoughts you had been imagining.

“Mmm, hello?”

“Man, you sound like you’re half dead,” a deep and familiar voice chuckles. It reminds me very much of my slumber-time mystery man.

“Wanna go back to sleep. Be quiet, was comfy.”

The voice chuckles and it sounds exactly like my dream guy. In my sleepy state, I am not particularly quick on the uptake. “Go back to sleep, wanna cuddle…. WHA”

I sit bolt-upright in the bed. “Rick? What?”

Rick laughs on the other end of the phone. “I’m pretty sure you just sleep answered the phone.”

“Uh, erm sorry,” I squeak, my cheeks turning crimson on the other end of the line. “Uh, what did you want?”

Rick laughs at my weirdness. “My Dad’s given me the day off so I’m spinning my heels here. I figured maybe you might want to go into town and do something? No horses this time, I promise.”

“I guess I could,” I concede tentatively. “Wouldn’t you rather hang out with the other team guys?”

“Nah, I had that crap yesterday. Plus I didn’t see you after the game so I figured we could catch up, huh?”

Do I want to spend more time with this guy? God, the idea scares me more than I want to admit. Deep down, behind my inhibitions, I know I want to say yes. Fuck it; “Sure Rick, when?”

“An hour? I’ll pick you up.”

“Uh, ok,” I answer a little surprised at the suddenness. My heart does that nervous, apprehensive squiggle thing. “I’ll see you then?”

Rick hangs up and I sit there staring at the phone for a moment trying to get my bearings. I know that on the surface, friends go and hang out with one another all the time. This, however, feels like an extremely dangerous decision given my now-accepted feelings for him. I know that academically I should avoid him like a case of Herpes and keep him at arm's length, but somehow, the idea of spending time with him is so intoxicatingly hard to avoid. The very fact that he thought of me first on his day off makes me unreasonably happy. Did he suggest that he missed spending time with me?

*Happy flutter*

I take care of my morning routine and make my way downstairs to grab the most important meal of the day; breakfast. In my case, girl or boy, this is a pop tart and a big mug of coffee. To this very day, it’s almost as important to me as a steady supply of Estrogen.

I’m idly flipping through a paper while I munch my sustenance when Rob wanders in like a zombie.

“Coffee’s in the pot,” I offer neutrally. I tentatively glance up at him; truth be told, I’m a little apprehensive as to how I’m supposed to act around him now.

He ruffles my hair on the way past, “thanks, Spike.”

“So we’re sticking with Spike are we?” I ask as he makes himself coffee.

“Yeah,” he answers after a second. “If you’re ok with it?”

I ponder what it means on a far grander scale. “It’s taking some getting used to, but I think I do.”

“You’re up early, you off somewhere?”

“Rick wanted to go hang today so… here I am.”

Rob sits down beside me and glances over as he sips his steaming brew. “I don’t know if I really approve of you hanging out with guys alone anymore… Holly.”

I fix him with a look, and for the first time, it’s a real sister look. “Rob, I appreciate the concern but I’m fine, honestly. As far as he’s concerned it's just two dudes hanging out, there is nothing more than that. To the rest of the world, I haven’t changed; still regular old Alex Winters.”

He smiles apologetically. “Sorry, I just… I already worried about you before, but now? Now I worry even more. Not just because you’re… god, I can’t unsee it.”

I’m sitting there in baggy cargo pants and a zip hoodie over a tight tee. My hair is tucked in the back of my hood and I look as grungy and boy as I can manage usually.

“I look the same as normal.” I point out shifting awkwardly in my seat.

“I guess I never realized just how ‘girl’ your normal is Holly.” he opines with a smirk. His expression suddenly changes to one of concern. “Wait, you and Rick aren’t…”

“NO!” I splutter. “No way, not a chance, what?”

Can you imagine what a human looks like when they turn bright red? That’s me right now. My attraction being fact notwithstanding, I am NOT having this discussion with my brother about one of his teammates; not happening.

“Relax” Rob laughs, “I’m just teasing you.”

Phew.

“Look, last night… I don’t know how I didn’t see it,” he admits. “Sitting here now, it’s just so obvious.”

“I’m trying not to be so obvious,” I complain as I finish my coffee. “That’s kinda the whole point. Plus Mom and Dad don’t think it’s so obvious.”

Rob smirks. “How do you think I feel realizing my pretty sister goes to the same school as me?”

I balk and stare at him. “I’m not pretty.”

“I’m afraid to leave you alone with any of the team guys going forward, yeah, you are, weird as that might feel for me to realize.”

Furious blush activated.

Thankfully there’s a knock at the door which Rob walks off to answer giving me a moment to calm my spicy nerves. The last thing I need to do is to give away that little chestnut of information. I can hear distant Broitudes, so I assume my ride and perpetual shadow has arrived.

Walking through, I find Rob and Rick chatting by the front door. Rick smiles when he spots me. “Hey Alex, you good?”

“Yeah, thanks for giving me a ride dude.” I offer, doing my best to bro it up for Rob. Anything to distract from whatever he might be thinking. A girl would never call a guy she’s into dude, would she? Nope!

“Catch you around man,” Rob grins, “Make sure this one doesn’t do anything dumb ok?”

I want to scold Rob for being overly protective but I bite my tongue and toss him a wave as I head out the door. “Cya later!”

“He seems a little weird today,” Rick asks as we hop into his truck. “You guys good?”

“We’re fine,” I shrug. “He’s just being my brother. He’s always been that way. So what’s your plan for today?” I ask changing topics quickly.

“I’m not sure,” Rick shrugs. “I figure we head into the city and wander a bit. Maybe check out some stores, lunch, then see how we feel?”

“Sounds fine to me, I did fancy stopping at the comic book store.”

“Man if people see me in there my cred is totally gone,” Rick chuckles.

I roll my eyes. “You’re hanging out with a dweeb, I’m pretty sure it’s gone already.”

“You’re not a dweeb,” he opines. “You’re funny, intelligent and you care about other people a lot more than you let on. Sure, you might be a massive geek, but we all got our vices.”

“Maybe you can cure yourself of the uncontrollable urge to hit other people for fun.”

“What’s wrong with football?”

“Nothing,” I shrug, “I don’t mind watching, but I just don’t see the attraction of playing it,” I admit.

Rick looks thoughtful for a moment. “I suppose for me, I’ve got this need to compete. It gives me an outlet for my competitive energy and aggression.”

As we drive, I watch him for a moment. I can appreciate why he plays but his reasons and his logic confound me; it proves how different we really are at a core level. We’ve got a lot in common but our root selves are so very different.

I’m not naive enough to believe that all men carry big caveman urges that they must express or explode. To assume every man is the same would cheapen the great variety that exists within them as a sex. In so much as I am a girl, Rick is a boy. His approach to how he rationalizes his feelings and his expression differs so intrinsically from my own and it feels so very alien.

Present Day Holly here; Excuse lil Holly’s flawed attempts at crayon psychology. She means well, but she still doesn’t really know the worlds of men and women yet. I could make some witty and hilarious remarks about peeing with the seat up or that testicles are just plain hilarious, but it wouldn’t serve the purpose.

My entire childhood was spent feeling alien from my assigned sex. Sure, that term upsets some people as much as Cis tends to put a twist in their knickers but both apply fairly well as descriptors of difference if not for everyday use.

For myself and many like me, childhood was confusing and frightening. It’s easy to slip into hating the sex you were assigned but the reality is, it’s not their fault. They’re different, but it's not better or worse; just different. For every wonderful woman and evil man, I’ve met equally as many awful women and wonderful men. Pick the man or the bear, but it’s all relative. Now back to the steamy non romance you filthy dogs.

 

 

“Ugh, I need to sit down,” I moan as I drop into the booth of a small pizza place we had chosen for lunch. “You walk too damn fast.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so short,” Rick chuckles as he slips into his seat across from me and grabs a menu. “And you did insist we check out those last four stores.”

“Not the point,” I counter, gesturing at him with a menu. “You dragged us a mile out of the way to look at football shoes.”

“Boots, and need new ones, what can I say?” he smiles smugly.

We had spent the morning wandering the city center, checking out shops, and talking about nothing in particular. It wasn’t particularly interesting to you ravenous readers hell-bent on gender adventures; we did boy shopping, and there were no spinny skirts in sight I’m afraid.

“Split one?” I ask, looking up from the menu that’s making my mouth water. “I’m good for whatever as long as it’s not got barbeque sauce on it.”
Rick wrinkles his nose. “That we can agree on… Hmm, sausage and bacon?”

I smile like the cat that got the cream. “A man after my own heart.”

A waitress comes over and smiles expectantly.

“Give us a large pie, sausage, and bacon, I’ll have a coke and…. Alex?”

“Same,” I shrug.

“Won’t be long y’all,” the waitress smiles as she departs.

“I’m glad we did this,” Rick offers. “I think I need some time away from my world; things have been super chaotic.”

“I know what you mean,” I agree wholeheartedly. “Every step these days feels like a minefield.”

“I can’t wait for Christmas,” Rick sighs. “Feel like I’m exhausted already only a month in.”

I know what he means, far more than he realizes. A month back at school feels like six years of hard labor in a Soviet Gulag. I’m growing increasingly positive that something will inevitably go horribly wrong.

“Here we go guys, your drinks,” The waitress announces returning. “Your coke sir, and yours, miss.”

Gerk

“Uh, thanks,” I blush.

Rick gives me a conciliatory smile “It’s just your hair and your size from her angle, Alex. She probably wasn’t even looking that close; don’t worry about it.”

Why is my stupid ass considering testing the water? Do I like piranha nibbled toes?

“It happens a lot,” I admit with a shrug. “I don’t mind so much anymore. It’s not like I’m ever going to look like you.”

These are all statements of fact, he just doesn't know why.

Rick just shrugs and makes a face. “Fuck 'em; you just keep being you. Who gives a crap what people think? Guy, girl, or apple pie; you’re pretty cool Alex. I’m glad we’re friends.”

I don’t quite know how to translate that, but I’m pretty sure it’s positive... Ish?

“Me too, I just feel like I don’t bring so much to the equation,” I chuckle sheepishly. “You have your truck, your amazing place, the social standing. You’re the popular sports guy. Me? I’m just the nerdy charity case you seem to want to tag along.”

“It’s not that,” Rick replies with surprising certainty. “I always thought you were pretty different. I always regretted that I just never really took the time to say hi and get to know you. We move in different circles but we’re not that different, not where it matters. We’re both gamers, we laugh at stupid stuff and we get on pretty well. Honestly? I’m just glad to have an honest friend; someone that I know likes me for me. I haven’t actually got a whole lot of those.”

“I don’t exactly have many myself.” I agree. “I guess I just feel like I’m mooching.”

“Don’t think that way. I like hanging with you Alex, you’re way cooler than you give yourself credit.”

The arrival of our pizza cuts off my chance at a solid reply and I decide to ditch it for the rest of our lunch. This just doesn’t feel like the time or place for any kind of heavy conversation about how useless I feel sometimes. Truth be told, I want him to say that he cares about me, that he sees the girl screaming and beating her fists on the glass silently crying out for him. I try to keep her quiet and it makes my heart heavy.

The pizza is good. It’s not one of these stupid Chicago monstrosities that is essentially a quiche gone wrong. No, this is a proper Italian pizza; wood-fired, fresh, and thin. The sauce is delicious and the cheese is just right. Look, I might be a girl, but I love a good pizza. In the end, I manage three slices and Rick inhales the rest; he’s a big boy and I’m pretty sure he’s just being polite.

I pay my half of the bill despite his insistence that it’s not a big deal. Sure, I’d love to let him pay and pretend that this was a date, but I cannot allow myself to get into that headspace. I know he’s just being kind, and it doesn’t mean what I imagine it does. The truth is that it feels a bit like it is one, and that confuses me. Part of me wonders if he’s even aware of how we interact with one another. Perhaps it’s perhaps subconscious? I make sure to pay so that we both know this is two friends hanging out, and nothing more. God, how the fuck am I going to manage this?

The comic book store is about halfway back towards the parking lot where we left Rick’s truck. Secretly, I’ve been relishing this moment all morning, because finally, I get to make Mr bigshot football star feel awkward and entirely out of his depth.

The bell rings as we enter the kingdom of Nerdia. You know the type of place this is; the interior looks like a nerd’s wet dream come to vivid and exotic life. The walls and shelves are stacked high with comics, art, and memorabilia from every imaginable comic or anime franchise. This place has been one of the happiest destinations in my childhood. Here, the characters showed me that being different wasn’t bad; here, being different was amazing.

“This is kinda nuts,” Rick admits looking around awestruck. “I kinda feel like a dumbass not coming in here sooner.”

I nod, proud of my people. “Here you’ll find everything from the freshest Manga out of Tokyo all the way to OG Darkman comics.”

“I’ll admit, I’ve dabbled in a little Steel Wonder, but not much else.”

“You seen SpaceConflict right?”

Rick nods, “the original ones and the two new movies, yeah.”

I lead him over to the appropriate area of the store and watch his eyes light up as he takes in the variety of goodies on display. Guys might pretend to be too cool for nerdy things but put them in front of trinkets and action figures and for some reason they turn into little boys.

I can tell he’s going to be a good while as he peruses the laser wizard delights, so I wander over to find the latest edition of Darkgirl. Hey, I might be trying to hide myself, but Brianna Grey is my girl. More importantly, nobody really worries about you reading female superheroes, they just call you a nerd!

After a little searching, I managed to locate the issue I was after and began leafing through some Toxic Vine back issues.

“Anything I can help you find?” a feminine voice asks, breaking me out of my perusal.

I glance over my shoulder and spot a freckle-faced girl with mousey brown hair grinning at me.

“Oh just looking at what else you have, I found what I was after though thanks,” I reply waving my copy of the latest Darkgirl.

“That’s a good one,” she smiles approvingly. “I love what they did with Grey in Year One.”

“I know,” I enthuse, “she’s so different to so many other female heroes. It’s got a lot more realism with them including her balancing being a vigilante and being in high school, you know?.”

“Is that guy you came in with your boyfriend?” She asks jerking her thumb in Rick’s direction. “Nice catch girl.”

“I uh… erm,” Initiate blush module. “He’s not my…”

“Oh, ‘just friends’ huh?” she grins literally not believing me. “Must be a really good friend if he’s willing to follow you here while you nerd out.”

“I mean he games…” I offer feebly. “We game and he’s into…”

“Oh yeah I can tell he is, he keeps glancing over the entire time you’re in here.” she chuckles. At this point, I’ve pretty much given up on trying to correct her on either assumption.

“Uh, thanks, well I guess we’re kinda working out where we fit.” I offer, hoping that agreeing will get her to drop the bone.

She smirks knowingly and taps the side of her nose as she wanders off to help a homeless-looking man in sweatpants and a lewd anime girl T-shirt.

“What was that about?” Rick asks, making me jump as he appears behind me. “You two seemed to be really getting into it. Going to ditch me for a nerdette?”

“Oh I’m not, I mean… Uh… she’s not my… we were just talking about comic books.”

Classy Holly, real fucking classy girl.

Rick looks almost relieved for a moment, but I could be imagining that. He holds up a couple of StarConflict figures and nods towards the register. “You good to go then?”

I nod and follow him over. Thankfully Nosey Nelly isn’t running the register, but the geeky guy behind it most certainly leers at me. Apparently, grungy tomboy is in this year for the shaved palm brigade.

After leaving Nerd-vana (Yes, that’s the name of the store), we made the decision to head back to the truck and get ourselves out of the city. I’ll admit, I was a little quiet as we walked, my mind choosing to overanalyze the day’s events. Between the waitress and the girl in the comic book store, I was beginning to seriously question if hanging around with this guy was sensible or safe, given how perception was leaning.

Naturally, the issue of attraction was a major problem; I really did like him. The problem today had revealed was that someone sooner or later was going to say something in front of him. At least twice I’d been overtly gendered as female to my face, how many more had just assumed it? The way Rick and I seemed to act, apparently told people we were a couple, was that intentional, or did people just assume boy + girl = romance?

Was that girl right? Was he glancing over at me? Had he invited me out today on some form of quasai undercover date? Was he secretly gay? Did he see me as a boy or a girl? Did he even realize? They were all fantastic questions that would have been answered had I not rapidly applied Newton’s third law.

*CLANG*

One minute I’m walking, the next, I eat lamp post just outside the parking lot.

“Jeez Alex, are you ok?”

I don’t think I passed out, but I was flat on my back seeing stars and little cartoon birds flittering around. “Ow,” I complain rubbing my forehead. “Who put that there?”

“I’m pretty sure it was there the whole time,” he grins offering me his hand.

A boy wouldn’t take his hand, but I take it. He lifts me to my feet so effortlessly that once vertical I stagger forward, a little off balance. It’s a natural reaction of course; as I stagger, Rick grabs hold of me to stop me from falling. For a brief moment, we’re facing each other, his hands on my waist and we’re just staring into each other’s eyes. It can’t have lasted more than a few seconds, but it felt like we stood there for an eternity. Yes, it is possible for two people to blush at the exact same moment.

“Uh, yeah, ah, thanks!” I grin sheepishly, ”I’ll watch where I’m going next time, stupid me!”

Rick looks as confused and embarrassed as I am. He mutters an apology and I avoid any form of eye contact, I don’t want him to think that I’d love him to do it again. God, how I wish he would do that again. Even now I can feel his hands on my body and it felt so right.

When Rick dropped me back at home, the air was still a little strange between us. We had both tried to play it off as nothing but there had absolutely been a moment between us. The truth was, that neither of us had been expecting it and it had clearly startled him. I think it told me that Rick was absolutely getting mixed signals from me. As nice a guy as he was, I vowed to give him some space and let things cool off. I hated doing it because I genuinely enjoyed being around him. God, why did life need to be so complicated?

Rob hadn’t noticed a thing when I got home, thankfully, so I avoided twenty questions. I know he meant well, but his ‘newly discovered brother to a little sister’ routine was already quite exhausting. Did I appreciate the heck out of the effort? Of course, I did.

Monday was going to be my first major challenge when it came to avoiding Rick and keeping an overprotective Rob at bay. Boys! Can’t live with them, really can’t find a valid excuse to bury them in the desert.

 

 

Avoiding Rick at school was far more difficult than I had imagined it possibly might be. I suppose that’s not particularly surprising when someone sits across from you at the dining table, is it? The library managed to provide me a worthy refuge from both him and my darling brother before school and during our morning break but lunch itself had been far more awkward.

I even went out of my way to make conversation with just about anyone else at the table who would tolerate me that day. At one point, I think I caught a hurt look in his eyes when I traded a barb with Bradon. I didn’t linger on it, even though it tugged at my heart to do so.

When we were dismissed, I saw him attempt to catch up to me but I managed to slip away in the press of bodies making for the exit. The library wouldn’t do…he’d know to look for me there, wouldn’t he? The real question was where to go so that a determined and quite confused boy wouldn’t come looking for me. I finally had a smart idea, it just didn’t pan out entirely the way I had hoped.

I slip into the classroom and close the door behind me. I managed to make it all the way to my German classroom without getting noticed. I’ve got this first period after lunch, so a quiet spot to read and a short commute? Seems perfect.

“Your lesson isn’t for another thirty minutes yet, Herr Winters.”

I jump out of my skin at the sound of my teacher’s voice. What manly thing do I do to maintain my cover as an average teen boy? I squeak and gasp; go me…

“I’m sorry Frau Whistler,” I gasp, trying to calm myself into something remotely masculine. “I thought the classroom would be empty about now.”

My German teacher eyes me suspiciously. “Nothing against you sitting quietly and studying, but wouldn’t you rather be outside having fun with your friends?” She shakes her head. “No, you’re avoiding someone; bullies or a falling out?”

“Do you teach German or Criminal Investigations?”

Whistler smirks at that. Outside of class, she’s always been one of the more relaxed teachers with us. She’s in her thirties, I think, and has curly brown hair that always seems to be up in a huge bun behind her head. Almost as though it’s one of the few ways she's found to restrain it. Her style is somewhere between coffee shop and Boho chic with lots of chunky knits and maxi skirts.

“You’re a decent student but nobody is this keen to get started on compound prepositions.”

I cringe at her reminder and she chuckles. “So which is it, no, I’ll guess… you’re avoiding a friend you had a falling out with; one that doesn’t have this class. I don’t see you hanging around with that many people so it’s either Paul Harding, unlikely. Gary Byrne, but not plausible as he shares this class, or who is that one?”

Uh oh.

“Herr Taylor doesn’t study Deutsch, I believe he’s in Mister Carver’s Spanish class; I’m going to put my money there.

Damn, she’s actually good. Time to go on the counter-offensive.

“You got me,” I admit. “What about you though? Surely you could be relaxing in the teacher’s lounge not worrying about us for another half hour?”

Frau Whistler rolls her eyes and smirks, rather uncharacteristic for an educator. “No pulling the wool over your eyes.” She admits. “I’m avoiding people too; Mister Alder from Economics is trying to sign us all up for a charity run and I would rather do literally anything else.”

Teachers are humans too. Who knew?

Not to be deterred, she redirects her attention back towards me again. I always liked Frau Whistler, she was always light, funny, and personal with us all. Not in a creepy weird got a Webflix docu-series twenty years later sort of way, but a genuinely good teacher way. It’s a shame she might have to die now.

“So why are you and Junge Herr Taylor at odds? Conflict enough to drive you into my clutches.”

“You don’t need to worry Frau, it’s just schoolyard nonsense.”

Frau Whistler raises an eyebrow. “Well, you managed to separate me from a rather good book so the therapist’s office is officially open.”

Do you really think I’m going to come clean and tell someone else? I’ve come out twice in the last seven days, I’m not looking to make it three. I settle into a desk and put my bag down while I formulate what to say. I can’t tell her the truth, so I need something equally plausible that might actually throw her off the scent. This one is annoyingly good so far. Sometimes sticking closer to the truth is actually easier.

“We’re not exactly a lot alike and we move in different social circles yet he started trying to befriend me this year. I figured he wanted something, or he was setting up for a long con to punk me or something. It turns out that he felt bad for me and it was all charity for the loser kid with no friends. Some misguided sense of duty to be nice because he used to be bullied in middle school.”

“Are you being bullied?”

I shrug, “No more than anyone else.”

Frau Whistler laughs. “The number should be zero Alex, but that’s beside the point. So you feel betrayed by his perceived friendship of charity? Might he not just recognize another lonely soul? Someone with whom he shares a great deal in common?”

“I guess,” I admit. “It just feels like people think I’m sad and lonely.”

“You were,” she points out, giving me a sympathetic look. “I don’t know what changed, but something significant has. Perhaps this friendship you seem hell-bent on rejecting is part of that, but you are much happier this year, Alex.”

Oh, it’s not because of that, lady… but deflect all the same.

”I don’t think I’m any different.” I hedge innocently.

“You might say that, but more than one teacher was worried about you last semester. A few have commented on you being far more socially active this year.”

Did they notice? Fuck, depression makes you sloppy. Does she have a point? Yes, unfortunately, my desire for a quiet and drama-free year has been utterly trashed by people wanting to hang out, be friends, and generally enjoy life. I can’t say it's all been terrible though.

“Not entirely wrong,” I admit reluctantly. “I guess I have been more involved.”

“It’s good to see and it suits you well enough,” she smiles, as she sorts through a pile of worksheets. “I think I saw you with the Byrne girls at the football game on Friday evening. From what I saw it looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

Fuck, quick, manly sportsball comments.

“Ah, yes, it was a tough game, they really had us with their offense.”

Frau Whistler raises an eyebrow and smirks and I feel a sudden sinking feeling. What did she see exactly? I shouldn’t have let my guard down like that, rookie move.

“I go to support Rob mostly.” I offer, hoping she’s not going to say anything, and Gary really isn’t into Football at all.”

She nods and smiles kindly. I can’t tell if she’s politely accepting my flimsy explanation or genuinely just being nice. My spidey sense tells me she knows more than she’s letting on; Le gulp.

“Friends are important, finding people you can really be yourself with does matter a great deal, Alex.”

Fuck.

 

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