It might be a common stereotype that hospital food is awful but the truth is, it’s a stereotype because it’s true. I think they secretly keep it that way to ensure patients want to get out of there as quickly as possible. What better to empty beds than soggy toast and jello cups that taste like Draino?

I woke up when the nurses came in around six am. There’s no such thing as a lie in, in a hospital, no matter how much that might be a great treatment. Despite the hour, I felt a great deal more normal, even with the stitches. After a disgusting breakfast of soggy cornflakes and limp toast, I was dispatched for another round of scans.

Once they had established that I still had a brain inside my head and that it was, in fact, the correct shape, I was returned to my room. Doctors seem to be quite insistent about that fact after cranial trauma. It turned out that when I had fallen I had struck my head and I was now the proud owner of six stitches just inside the rear of my hairline. From the way I had fallen and the injuries I had sustained, I was apparently lucky I hadn’t broken my neck; it’s rather scary in hindsight.

The doctor that had seen me on my admission the day before had declared me fit to depart after lunch and I was left to my own devices pretty much until then. Something something discharge policy, hospital bureaucracy never changes, trust me.

Being a teenager who has to pass a few hours without distraction is bad enough when you’ve nothing to worry about. When you just came out to your Mom and now face an uncertain future, three hours felt like ten years. I didn’t know where I stood at that moment. My entire survival mode had been designed around keeping this fact from my family; locking myself down and surviving until I could reach the freedom of college.

Now what? I hadn’t actually factored in them being ok with this. Nowhere in my plans had I even wargamed out the idea that this might have a happy ending. I know my neuroses are quite well understood at this point, but from my narrow teenage perspective, I’d been blinded by doom. As the curtains drew back on that fear, I was in a bright and uncertain world. I just hoped nobody at school had seen anything they didn’t need to; that would be problematic indeed.

Shortly after twelve, Mom arrived, and in civilian attire to boot. I’d always gotten used to seeing her in scrubs at the hospital, but instead, she is wearing jeans and a shirt like any normal mother. It sent a message that she was here for me and not them.

“What are you doing here?” I asked stupidly as she bustled into my room flicking through my chart.

“I came to take you home sweetheart, they can afford to miss me for a day.”

“What about my discharge paperwork?”

She grinned and nodded back out at the hallway. “There are some perks to your mother working here; it’s all handled already. You are being released into my care for further observation. I’m taking a few days off work.”

I shake my head, “You don’t need to do that Mom, I know how important your work is.”

I want this to be understood very clearly: My mother loves us very much and spends plenty of time with her children. The difference is, that I know how much good she does at the hospital, and how much she wants to help others. I don’t want to feel responsible for her absence.

“It is,” she concedes. “However, they have cover available and I’m owed leave. Right now my baby needs me. What kind of mother would I be if I sent you home and carried on caring for someone else’s family?”

“You might have a point,” I admit, sitting up on the bed and pulling the gown around myself shyly. “Did you bring me anything to wear? They kinda trashed what I came in with.”

Now yes, this is a transgender story but it isn’t some work of nutty fiction where Mommy brings me my first frilly dress to wear on this first official day as Mother and Daughter. No, she brought me something realistically practical for the job. That’s my Mom, and this is my story, so I do apologize for letting you down.

Mom shuffles for a moment as though she’s momentarily uncertain and then hands me a bag. “It’s not much, but if you wanted to… I didn’t know what you’d want to wear” she admits with a slight frown. I think, shock horror, my mother isn’t sure what the right thing to do is.

“If you don’t want me to, I don’t have to Mom,” I smile at the gesture. “I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

She shakes her head and sits down beside me on the bed. “This isn’t about me, it's about you, sweetheart. It isn’t about being ready, it’s about being truthful. Are you telling me the mirror doesn’t show you what I see? I’m almost positive the world sees the young woman you are, whatever you wear.”

She has a point, and it’s one I’m secretly delighted with, despite the trouble it causes at the moment.

“I’m pretty fragile, I don’t think I’m up for anything adventurous, please tell me you brought some pants?”

She smiles. “There’s some jeans that should fit in there too. I’ll give you some privacy to get dressed honey, call if you want any help, ok?”

I give her a nod and accept the bag and she leaves the room. With great curiosity, I dig through the bag she brought me. Her words are most cryptic and I am most curious to see what she decided to bring. Now our chat the night before was hardly a groundbreaking ‘you can transition’ declaration, but it also wasn’t a flat-out denial. The word ‘daughter’ was mentioned if I recall correctly, so I’m pretty sure I have permission?

I tip the bag out on the bed beside me and take a look. There is a skirt, bless my Mom for the thought. I think it’s one of Chrissie’s, I’m not sure if I want to go straight in at the deep end, but perhaps that’s just nerves? I reject it out of hand and instead set a pair of pale blue jeans to one side. I think the Jeans belong to Chrissie too. It might be interesting as she’s taller than me and has bigger hips. There’s a pack of plain cotton panties and a plain white sports bra that looks like it should fit. These I’m more than happy to wear; if nothing else, at least I can finally stop wearing boxers, yay!

There last items are one of my old cozy boy T-shirts, a plain black girl’s tank top, and a hoodie. I guess today marks the first day I don’t bother hiding at the very least. For once the hoodie can stay in the bag. I won’t lie, that’s a massive relief. I pick the tank top; it’s going to show who I am, I hope, without being too much.

I dress quickly and check my appearance in the mirror of the small attached bathroom. The girl looking back at me isn’t going to win any beauty contests, but she’s me. My god, she’s really me! The jeans are a tiny bit long, but nothing a roll of the cuff cannot solve. I’m more surprised to find that they fit me well in the hip department, when did I get this curvy? The tanktop fits me well and comes down almost to the top of the jeans. There’s no hiding the fact that I have boobs, wearing this. No hiding now; I hope this is a gentle enough departure from Alex. I don’t have any makeup and my hair, well, it’s attached to my head. Hey, nobody said this is a fashion contest.

When I step out of the bathroom, Mom is waiting with a wheelchair in hand and she’s checking her phone. When she hears the door she looks up and the expression on her face is priceless. Her surprise turns to sorrow and she looks utterly guilty.

“My gosh, darling. How could we have been so blind?”

Within seconds, I’m in her arms and there are admittedly, a lot more tears. It’s not quite a full-on blubfest, but It’s a happy little cry in my mother’s arms, and it feels fantastic. When she releases me, she brushes the hair out of my eyes affectionately and smiles at me. “You’re beautiful honey. You certainly look like you spent a night in hospital, but you’re my beautiful baby.”

I gulp back more tears, “I’ve been waiting a lifetime to hear that Mom.”

She smiles and starts finger-combing my hair into some semblance of order. Pausing, she shakes her head and pulls a tie off her wrist, and twists it up into a bun behind my head in one swift motion. “That will do for now,” she smiles. “Shall we get you home?”

I simply nod and take my seat in the chair. I could argue but I know hospital policy. Ride to the door and then I’m free. Liability insurance; you’ve got to love it. I have to say, being wheeled through the hospital by Mom is a surreal experience. I am presenting as a girl right now and nobody is looking at me strangely at all. Sure it’s not my first time, and yes, I know how I look. The thing is, it feels very different when my Mom is right there and she knows everything. Somehow in that moment, it feels so much more real.

Outside the Hospital doors, I step off the chair and follow Mom across the lot towards her car. I’ll admit, I’m nervous, but I don’t want to be the one to start talking. Inside the hospital it was all tears and ‘I love you no matter what,’ moments. Out here in the cold reality of the real world, there are consequences to doing what I’m doing. I know mom gave me these clothes and put my hair in the bun I’m now wearing, but I can’t help but feel a little gunshy. I’ve gotten so used to hiding that being out in the open is incredibly scary and unfamiliar territory.

“Feel weird?” Mom asks as if she’s reading my mind.

I nod, “kinda. I’m still trying to get used to being open about this with you.”

She smiles in that Mom way and nods, “I can understand that. It’s taking some adjustment to remember the pretty girl next to me is my youngest child.”

“Was I that forgettable?”

Mom unlocks the car before stopping and staring off into the distance. “Not forgettable exactly, but perhaps a little empty. Even now, just like this, there’s light in your eyes now, sweetheart.”

I can only nod in reply, she’s right of course, Mom is always right somehow.

The drive home is mostly made up of small talk and little conversational dead ends where we awkwardly try to carry on like nothing is different now. It’s hard to chat casually about my day when it’s been, quite so monumental.

When we arrive home, I’m relieved to see Dad’s car isn’t there yet. I think if I had to face them all in one go, I’d probably pull a damsel and faint on the spot.

“Rob’s expecting us,” she answers, not opening her door either. “He’s been worried sick. We spoke last night and he’s excited to see his sister come home.”

“What about you, Mom?”

She smiles reassuringly and rubs my arm. “Of course, I am, sweetheart. There might be an adjustment period for all things family-related, but we will get through that. Sure it feels weird to say it out loud at the moment, but you are my youngest daughter. I wouldn’t have brought you the clothes If I didn’t support you, honey.”

I get out of the car and follow her up to the house. I won’t lie, my heart is in my mouth as I walk those oh-so-familiar steps. I know it’s the same house with the same people and those there right now accept me… or so they say. It just feels alien, so very alien. I cross my arms under my breasts nervously as I follow Mom into the house. Even that feels strange to do; I’ve fought for so long to suppress my natural posture and behaviors that allowing myself to do it feels oddly uncomfortable.

As we walk inside, I spot Rob waiting for us. He’s sat on the bottom step of the stairs and he stands as he spots us coming inside. His eyes go wide when I step out from behind Mom. I know it’s not a massive difference in my appearance but it’s making a statement I’ve tried to suppress for so long; I am a girl.

“Hey Spike,” he waves awkwardly.”Uh. Should I still call you that?”

I smile, “I’ was just getting to like it.”

“I ah, I’m glad you’re home, but I’m gonna head out and give you guys some space for a bit.”

I step forward and touch his arm, fighting my desire to hold back and be a boy. “You don’t need to go for my sake, Rob. It’s ok really; this is weird for me too.”

“It is?”

I nod, “sure it is. It’s something I’ve had to hide so long that finally letting it out feels like I’m dreaming. I feel like almost at any moment I’m going to wake up and it will all be back to normal again.”

“Uh, Rick and some of the guys from school; they wanted to come see you,” he mentions, scratching his head sheepishly. “I told ‘em it wasn’t a good time, you know? Family stuff.”

“Uh, thanks,” Oh, god, Rick… that I cannot manage to even think about at the moment.

“Look, I’m gonna head out and meet some guys and hang out at the mall. Give you and Mom some space for stuff, I’ll be back for dinner ok?”

“Bye Rob, thanks for not being weird about me.”

He smirks and I see a bit of the old Rob again. “Oh the weird is on pause for diplomatic reasons, I’ll still treat you like crap regardless of whether you’re my brother or my sister.”

“Wouldn’t expect any less.” I reach up and hug him on impulse. It takes a second, but I feel his arms around me too. It’s a nice little moment and it feels right. Damn, when did he get this big?

I watch as he leaves and I feel a little better. My big brother’s approval means a lot to me. We don’t always get on, but what siblings do? I’ve always looked up to him, not because he’s an example of the man I wanted to be, but rather, a great example of a good man. I guess I might not have realized it at the time, but I hope I’m lucky enough to find one like him.

“Feel better?” Mom asks.

I nod. “I do, but he seems a little standoffish. I do worry he…”

Mom shakes her head. “It’s nothing to do with your being a girl honey, he told me that much last night. He’s not so comfortable with how much your little adventure scared him. He wants to dote on you and protect you but he’s afraid of smothering you. He blames himself for what happened.”

“He blames himself?”

“Of course, he’s like your father; honor and duty.”

“There was no way he could have stopped what happened, that was all my fault.”

Mom directs me up towards my bedroom and follows along behind. “You’ll need to learn that the men in your life will often feel a sense of responsibility to protect you. They mean well, even if it’s frustrating and misdirected.”

“Rob’s always protected me,” I admit. “I always loved that about him; no matter how much of an ass he was, he’d always have my back.”

“He’s a good boy,” she agrees, “a good man.”

We reach my room and I plop down on my bed and give Mom a good hard look. “I never was much of one, was I?”

She sits down beside me and puts an arm around my shoulder and shakes her head. “No darling, but I don’t think that’s much of a surprise, now is it?” She doesn’t wait for me to reply before she continues. “I know you’re feeling very awkward and everything is very new for you but remember; we love you. This is ok, Alex. You can relax and be yourself without fear. I have no idea how it must feel to have to hide so much but I can appreciate it must be exhausting.”

“You have no idea,” I sigh, allowing the tension to finally leave my body. “Keeping a mask on twenty-four hours a day, it’s driven me into the ground.”

“We’ll talk properly when your father gets home tomorrow afternoon, as a family. We will work out how to proceed, I promise; school things, life things. It may take some time to work out all the mechanics and jump through the hoops, but I promise, we will.”

She smiles at me and squeezes me. “Now as your physician, I am keeping you off for the rest of the week to properly recover; concussions are serious business and a school is a difficult place to avoid knocks and falls without recent developments adding to stress modifiers.”

“Having a Doctor for a Mom is so useful,” I chuckle. “I didn’t expect to be all girl from today onward. I’ve kept it inside this long, what’s a bit more if there’s actually light at the end of the tunnel?”

She squeezes me affectionately, “You were always the practical one, like me.”

I swallow my fear and ask the most important question so far. “Do you think that I could be a girl at home?”

Mom nods without stopping to think about it. “I don’t see why not. I’ll make time this week for us to go and get you some wardrobe basics. Until then, I’m sure Chrissie won’t mind if you borrow some of her things.”

“As long as she’s ok with it, I might,” I agree cautiously, watching her expression to see if it’s the right answer. She doesn’t seem to disapprove so I give her a small smile of gratitude.

I glance around the room while we sit there together in silence. My room has never really leaned towards boy or girl, it’s clean and tidy and almost sterile. I’m a neat kid but it’s not some sort of gender thing, I think I just get a bit neurotic about mess. I have some game posters up and that won’t be changing any time soon. I might be a chick but I’m not some vapid pink doll girl. Don’t you hate it in those trans stories where the gamer nerd protagonist transitions and utterly abandons their games and nerd stuff? Gaming is not just for boys!

“I’ll leave you in peace for a little while, ok?” Mom prompts, breaking my little internal moment. “I’ll check on you in a bit sweetheart, maybe try taking a shower and getting refreshed?”

After she departs, I pull myself up on the bed and close my eyes. It’s real; I came out, holy shit. How did I manage to do that in one piece? So far, Mom and Rob both know, and neither one hates me. These are both outcomes I never actually expected to be possible. I think I buried myself so deeply in my fear that I removed all possibilities of a good outcome as viable. Apparently, Dad already knows and is reportedly fine. Is there a chance I actually get to be happy? Holy shit, this is a real M. Night Shyamalan-level plot twist.

My first point of order now I’m back is to get that shower. Even one night in a hospital leaves you smelling like them and it’s distinctly unpleasant. Rather than using my own ensuite, somewhere I have always preferred because it gave me both privacy and safety, I decided to use the master bathroom. I don’t have anything to hide anymore and I really want to use some of Mom’s shampoo and conditioner. Look, you try maintaining fine hair the length of mine with boy's products, it's unpleasant.

Unlike my smaller shower, the main one is a ceiling-mounted deluge monster that drowns the user where they stand. God, if you’ve never experienced one I hope you get to, they’re fantastic. Within thirty minutes I’m squeaky clean. On a whim and because I’m feeling pretty good right now, I carefully shave both my armpits and my legs. I’ve never been particularly hairy, but now that everything is out in the open, I want what little I have gone. Now, I don’t have to fear anyone spotting bare smooth skin anymore. I’ll probably have to worry in two weeks when I have to hit the gym, but this is why they invented sweatpants, right?

I towel myself off and enjoy taking the opportunity to steal some of Mom’s body lotion. Am I enjoying this far too much? You bet I am. I’m barely back in my room when my phone chirps; it’s on my bedside where I left it before school on Friday morning. I don’t typically take it with me. A, I don’t have a lot of people that text me, and B, remember this is 2005, we’re in ancient times before smart phones.

Megan: “hru??? Pls cl us!, hrd bt skl, u hosp stl?”

Oh boy, that one translates to a 911-level text. They get first dibs on reply.

There’s a bunch of other texts in there too, it turns out that, to my shock, I’ve been missed. Andy, Gary, and Rick have all sent me texts checking up on me. What is even weirder is there are get-well-soon messages from unknown numbers signed by a few of Rob’s teammates. Huh, what the hell.

I make a mental note to reply to the messages when I get a chance, it’s only polite. Unable to resist the urge, I cycle back to Rick’s message and hesitate for a moment. Am I still meant to be avoiding him? I just can’t let the poor guy suffer, can I? I fire off a quick reply letting him know that I’m alive and well and that I’ll call him. Just so he isn’t worrying, no other reasons at all, honestly.

Calling Meg back is currently far more important. Having Mom is awesome, but I need my girls right now to process all of this… this.

“Hello?”

“It’s me, Holly.”

“I know, I can see my phone dumbass. How are you? We heard what happened and we’re losing our minds! We just got back from school, what’s happening?” Meg jabbers without taking a single breath.

“I’m alive, it wasn’t super bad in the end but I had to spend the night in hospital. Are you and Kara busy right now?”

“No, we’re just at home chilling. You’re home now, right? Is it ok to come over and see you? We were so worried!”

See, sensible me would explain to them that I’d come out and to expect Holly, but I forget because I’m overwhelmed and my spirit animal is the squirrel. “Yeah, sure, whenever you want, I’m not up for going out right now.”

“We’ll be around in ten, cya!”

I stare at my phone but the call is already cut as I’m pretty sure Megan is doing a fair impression of a tornado at this very moment.

I towel dry my hair and leave it loose while I redress in my underwear from earlier. Hey, leave me alone, I’ve only worn it for like three hours so I think it’s perfectly fine. I’m excited to try new stuff but I also don’t want to push things too far in these early moments. My wardrobe is also pretty non-existent at the moment, so it’s hard to be picky.

I’m about to head down to warn Mom that Meg and Kara are coming over. I should have probably told her that they knew all about me when I spotted the bag from the hospital. I mean, I had permission to wear that stuff and I did just shave my legs. It would be a shame not to wear a skirt now I have a chance, right?

I grab the skirt from the bag and examine it more closely now I’m not dismissing it out of hand. It does appear to be one of Chrissie’s but it does have potential; it has a drawstring waist. It’s an ankle-length cream linen material and it feels kinda light and floaty. I slide it up my legs and settle it above my hips. Here I am wearing a real honest-to-good skirt for the first time… in my own house, and it’s ok, wild huh?

The skirt and the tanktop don’t quite meet, so there’s a thin little strip of skin there between the two. Looking in the mirror, I give myself a little spin and smile happily. It’s really a simple thing to be happy about but leave me alone, there’s a lot of cringey firsts coming in young Holly’s life. Her first skirt is one of them. I’m admiring myself when I hear the doorbell ring.

I’m halfway down the stairs when I hear Mom answer the door first.

“Hi girls, oh, Alex? Uh, I don’t know if this is a good…”

“It’s ok Mom,” I call as I walk up beside her, “they already know.”

Megan and Kara do this anime girl impression where their eyes suddenly fill most of their faces and I swear those little excitement marks start appearing around their heads.

“Whatthehellwhenwereyougoingtotellusohmygodhollywhatthefuck!”

I can’t quite translate most of what was said because I’m enveloped in what is scientifically described as a ‘glomp’ by the two sisters. Mom is just watching on with this look of amusement on her face.

“When were you going to tell us?” Kara asks as we separate. “This is kinda huge, Hol.”

“Hol?” Mom asks.

Oh, yeah, haven’t brought the whole name topic up with the maternal unit yet. “Uh, Holly,” I admit sheepishly. “We hadn’t gotten a chance to talk about… you know, names and I guess It’s what you told me once we might have been called and IwaskindalikehopingIcould…”

“I like it,” she smiles. “I didn’t want to push you, as Alex does work for both, but I’m pretty sure you’re not an Alexander anymore darling.”

“You’re ok with this Mrs Winters?” Megan asks bluntly. “Holly was so worried about how you guys would respond to the news.”

“We’ve had some long talks, and I am okay with it,” she affirms. “Her father and I have, well. We suspected for a long time. It’s quite a recent development in practicality, but it was not remotely unexpected.”

Mom looks at both sisters in turn and sends some invisible message I can’t translate yet. “Thank you for being here for my daughter. I’m glad she at least has friends she could talk to.”

God my heart can’t take any more of this adorableness.

“It’s nothing Mrs Winters,” Kara shrugs. “Meg worked it out and I kinda stumbled upon things. Since then… well, she’s just one of us.”

All the she, her, and daughter references are really tugging at my heartstrings. It feels weird, unusual, scary? Above all, it feels so right to hear and I struggle with how to properly explain this.

Mom sends us off to my room with a promise to bring us up something to drink in a while. I'm sure she knows I’ve got so much to unpack with the girls and recognizes I need a bit of peer time away from the olds. Yeah, me, having friends I need to share things with, who the hell even am I?

About thirty minutes later, I’m sat on my bed with the sisters. I’ve regaled them with every sordid detail from Friday morning through to the present day. You don’t want to hear all that again, you only just survived the big espresso depresso chapter. We’re chatting about little nothings when Mom knocks and opens the door. Picture this; I’m sitting there cross-legged with Kara braiding my hair while Meg is sitting across from me jabbering away while painting my nails lurid pink.

Naturally, I feel immediately embarrassed that Mom has walked in on this extremely feminine scene and start trying to boy up in response.

“How are you girls getting on?” It’s a simple phrase as she sets our drinks down but it puts me at ease. I’m not doing anything wrong, it’s ok Holly…

“Great Mrs W,” Meg enthuses. “Holly was telling us about everything and we’re fixing her.”

“I can see that,” Mom smirks at my obvious discomfort. “Just leave her in one piece when you’re done, she is going to still have to go back to being Alex in the short term for school.”

“How can anyone expect this…” Kara gestures at me. “To be a boy?”

Mom sits down on my desk chair and nods. “I suppose when the cat is out of the bag it’s rather hard to unsee it, but I know what you mean.”

“People at school don’t seem to treat me any different,” I admit. “New people think I’m a girl for sure.”

“You are, dumbass,” Megan rolls her eyes.

“No permanent changes till we work out a plan for the future, ok?” Mom insists. “Hair, eyebrows, anything she can’t hide has to stay the same.”

“Spoilsport,” Meg grins. “Nah, we’ll behave.”

“Does she get to be a girl at home now all the time?” Kara asks, finishing up my first-ever braid. (It feels weird)

Mom nods but holds up a finger. “She can indeed, but we’ll need to be careful to ensure things don’t get back to school in the short term. We’re having a family meeting tomorrow to go over things. I don’t see it being an issue, however.”

“Cool!” Kara enthuses. “You have to come over tomorrow, we can go through our wardrobes and find you some basics to start you off. You’re a bit skinnier than both of us, so there’s plenty we don’t quite fit that’s still amazing.”

“I’m probably going shopping with Mom this week,” I point out, glancing over at Mom. I totally would want to accept her offer but I don’t want to seem ungrateful.

Mom smiles and nods, “Don’t go crazy, ok?”

“Uh, what about Gary?”

“Rats,” Meg remembers her male sibling, the one who doesn’t know I’m really a girl.

“Who all does know?” Mom asks, realizing that’s probably quite an important question.

I count off on my fingers, yeah, it’s that few. “So far, you, Rob, I assume Dad. Not sure about Chrissie unless you told her. Megan, Kara, Rick’s parents, Doctor Harris uh, That doctor at the hospital… that’s it.”

“Wait, Rick’s parents know?” Megan interjects like a freight train hitting a family sedan.

“I mean, well…” I blush. “I’m pretty convinced they think I either am or am about to be his girlfriend.”

“Awwww,” Kara croons making a stupid face. “That’s adorable.”

“Are you?” Mom asks, and I can see the cheeky smirk on her face and I absolutely know one hundred percent that she’s teasing me. This does not stop me from turning the same color as a firetruck, however.

“Uh, no, I’m not. We’re friends, but… it’s complicated.”

“How so?”

“I mean, I think he likes me, like that. The problem is I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know why. Me, uh; I think maybe…there’s a possibility that he’s not the worst human on the planet… I guess.”

You know there is a step above Fire Truck Red, right? Yes, me, steam coming out of my ears.

“Even her ears are pink now.” Kara cackles. “Oh boy, sore subject.”

“Literally,” I mutter.

“I wasn’t going to broach that topic yet.” Mom offers kindly. “I mean, you didn’t exactly show any interest in girls, darling.”

Do I open up about this? I’m feeling this super powerful urge to share and actually confront this. Why not take advantage of those who want to listen? The boy learning tells me to shut up and keep it inside, it’s embarrassing. To Boybrain, liking boys is gay, and admitting it makes it real. The freedom I’ve started to feel with Megan and Kara makes me realize that girls don’t work that way and it feels far better.

“No, I never did,” I admit quietly. “Honestly, before I started on hormones, I didn’t have any interest in anyone at all. It wasn’t until that vacation this summer… and well. I saw some boys at the beach and it… clicked.”

“Ah, I remember the first time I noticed a boy,” Mom smiles. She has a faraway look, almost like she’s remembering her childhood. She’s pretty old, so it was probably in black and white.

“John Atherton; he was in my class and he was proving to the other boys how strong he was by moving some of the scenery in the theatre by himself. I was totally lost when I realized I was staring at his muscles.”

“It was swim class for me,” Meg agrees. “Swim shorts and abs.”

“So it’s normal?” I query hesitantly. “You don’t care then suddenly… ‘wham’.”

Mom nods. “Sure it is, sounds about right too; puberty starts out and your head gets full of all those signals, and suddenly, boys… completely normal.”

I frown, “This doesn’t seem weird to you Mom?”

She leans over and sweeps me into a hug. “A…Holly, you may have only just told me that you’re my daughter, but I’ve known for a few months and suspected for even longer. I’m more than mentally prepared for my daughter to be attracted to boys. Your father and brother, I cannot speak for.”

Do you think it’s weird that I’m talking about being attracted to boys with my mother in the room? Absolutely, me too but for some inexplicable reason I really want her opinion. Somehow it doesn’t feel wrong at all. I can’t describe how nice it is to be sat here like this; being myself with Mom and my friends and it’s just… normal.

 

 

I’m helping Mom finish up preparing dinner when Rob finally gets home later that evening. Before you ask, no, this isn’t some ‘Mommy-Daughter’ thing that’s cropped up since I came out. Mom taught us all to cook and expected us all to help. Just the same way dad taught all of us to change a tire, change oil, and fix stuff around the house. Our parents didn’t care if we were boys or girls; we all got an education in being useful adults.

“Smells good,” Rob offers from the doorway. We weren’t being loud but he’s kinda caught me off guard a little.

I steel myself and turn around to face him and smile awkwardly. By the time the girls had done with me earlier, I had acquired a full set of painted nails to go with my braid so I’m looking really girly. No, they didn’t dress me up or do my makeup, I wouldn’t stiff you out of that narrative titbit, would I?

Rob looks at me for a minute just taking me in silently. He shakes his head slowly and quietly murmurs, “Amazing…” I’m in the process of turning red, not quite sure what to say when he walks right past me and sticks his finger in the sauce I’m cooking.

“Hey, asshole! What the hell?”

“Mmm, this is good,” he grins. “You’ll make someone a great wife one day.”

“Robert, wash your hands,” Mom chides, slapping him away.

“Gotcha,” he laughs as he walks away, shooting me a pair of finger guns as he goes.

As he leaves the room and I hear him thumping up the stairs I silently fume while I return to the stove. I did not expect him to start picking on me this quickly.

“That’s boys for you, darling.” Mom observes, noting my annoyance.

“Huh?”

“He’s teasing you because he’s trying to make things more normal for you,” she explains rubbing my shoulder. “Boys don’t really like talking about their feelings, confronting emotional subjects is hard for a lot of them. They tend to make jokes to cover it up and gloss over things. What he said there? That was his way of telling you he still loves you and you’re his sister.”

“That makes no sense,“

“No darling, it doesn’t.” she agrees with a sigh then catches herself. “God, how did you manage to survive in that school?”

“Badly?” I offer, making a face. “Pretty badly, and mostly with Rob’s help.”

“He’s a good boy.”

“I wasn’t.” I chuckle while I start serving dinner.

What are we having? God, I forget the most important things sometimes while focusing on pesky emotions. My first meal with my family as myself is Spaghetti Bolognese. It’s a bit of a staple for us at home. We’re not Italian, but we love Italian cooking and it’s also one of the first meals I learned how to cook; somehow it just felt appropriate for that evening.

Dinner is pretty quiet, and I won’t lie, it’s still a little awkward. Mom is wonderful and that doesn’t bother me but Rob is generally a bit quiet during the meal. We make conversation but it’s almost as if nothing has changed. He’s trying to be light and normal about things. I’m not sure if he’s trying to make things better, or just feels weird.

After dinner, I go up to his room and knock.

“Come in?”

I push the door open and poke my head inside. “You got a minute to talk?”

Rob’s sat on his bed reading and looks a little surprised, but waves me inside regardless. “Sure Holly, what’s up?”

I stand awkwardly in front of him, I don’t quite know what to do with my hands or where to look. “I… wanted to say sorry for school stuff and the… ambulance and everything.” I slump a little and look at him, “I’m sorry for everything.”

“Why are you sorry?” he asks, looking confused.

“I put all this on you, I scared you and I forced all of, this,” I gesture plucking at my skirt, “on you too.”

I can’t look at him right now, I just feel warm and I’m fighting the urge to cry. I hear him shift on the bed and before I realize, he’s stood right in front of me. “I don’t know where you get the idea that you weirded me out or upset me, because I’m more worried about you, Holly.”

*sniff*

“Why?”

I mean, talk about stupid things to say, but I’m not yet in my rational era. (Lil Holly doesn’t know this reference yet, but she’s going to end up a Swiftie one day)

Rob guides me over to his bed and sits me down before plopping down beside me. “You never really seemed like my brother Holly, that’s why. I’ve done a lot of thinking since we talked Friday. I realized you always had a lot more in common with Chrissie than me, you played with her, and you behaved like her. I know we’re related, Holly, but you were never my brother, not really.“

He looks a little sheepish for a moment and grins. “When the EMTs were treating you and they called you she and stuff, It seemed like the most normal thing in the world, hell people have mistaken you for a girl plenty of times and I was used to it. When they cut your shirt off and you had a bra on and… well, you know.” he gestures at my chest with that grabby-hand boy miming boobs thing they do. “I guess… it just seemed like you oughta.”

“I oughta?”

He nods. “This probably won’t offend you now, but you were never exactly macho, Holly. You’ve always been a little girly. Over time that got, moreso. I guess I just always saw Alex as Alex. I’d catch sight of you sometimes and just see a chick, then I would realize it was you. By the time you were in that ambulance seeing Chick didn’t even seem that surprising anymore.”

“That’s… eloquent,” I opine. “So we’re good?”

“Yeah Sis, we’re good.”

“Thank you, I really mean it.”

“I got you.” he grins giving me a brotherly side hug. “So no more bro trips, right?”

My expression darkens as I realize the truth. “You probably won’t want to be seen with me once this comes out. Eventually, it will get out that I’m trans and then… social pariah.”

“Like I give a flying fuck,” Rob growls. “Let them say whatever they want.”

I keep my mouth shut. I know a point might arrive when I need to keep my distance from him for his own good. What and when I have no idea.

“So what’s happening anyway? You going to the girls' school now?”

I shrug, “Mom’s keeping me off for the week because of the concussion. After that, probably back as normal till they work something out.”

“I mean I know not much as changed since Friday but… uh, I’m going to really struggle to see a boy,” he admits sheepishly.

I catch sight of myself in the mirror sitting next to Rob. He was right; you can tell we’re related but we look nothing alike. I’m short and skinny and soft, he’s tall and broad and hairy. Would I have become that If I hadn’t…

Thank god.

 

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