When I woke up on Thursday morning my extremities were still a little tingly, but I was overall feeling pretty good. Especially when one considers my activities from the previous day. Between nearly being run over by wayward cyclists, falling in icy water, and coming out to my classmates, I had enough excitement for one whole month.

Despite this, I pulled myself out of bed with far more energy and vigor than I had experienced all week. Today, I would not hide myself behind a mask of boyhood, I would not present Alex to the world. Today, for good or for bad, Holly was joining her classmates for the day's adventure. I won’t lie, it felt a little like Christmas morning.

What clothing I had to wear was limited; the girls had given me a few items to borrow the night before and they would tide me over for the remaining trip. With only three days remaining, it wasn’t exactly necessary for me to go nuts. It was also super cold, so the idea of prancing around in miniskirts was entirely out of the question.

Today’s hyperfeminine, girly girl outfit wasn’t particularly dissimilar from what I would have worn as Alex; jeans and a sweater. The difference, in this case, was that the jeans were far tighter and the sweater was a cozy baby blue cropped cable knit. With my Rans and Chloe’s donated bag, I felt pretty good. With my hair brushed and clipped away from my face and my little snowflake twinkling against the light, Holly was ready to face the public.

I didn’t stop to wait for the girls this morning; I knew that it was important that I did this on my own. I would sit with them, that was not in question, however, I had to prove that I was capable of functioning as a human being without an ever-present support system around me. For them to see me as a true equal, I had to behave like one; I had to show them that Holly wasn’t a fragile little girl who needed her hand held at every turn.

When the elevator doors slid open on the ground floor I felt a little surge of fear. I knew that I was safe here, that no harm would come of getting my breakfast, but it felt different now. The day before two things had protected me; novelty and friends. It was new and strange at first, and for almost all times I was surrounded by the other girls.

It was nice, but I had to learn to be myself and to function alone. It was going to be a test of small things. Many boys and girls would judge me based on what I did, not what was done for me. I was also absolutely adamant that I would not come to be dependent on the others, not a charity case.

Thankfully the restaurant was still rather quiet when I arrived, which was certainly a relief. I didn’t immediately spot any of our people, so I made for the serving area to acquire my sustenance. With some meat, cheese, and Brötchen along with a large coffee, I found myself a spot at one of the tables and set about constructing my sandwich. Task completed, I wrapped my laughing gear around the end and bit down.

“Makes a lot of sense.”

Huh?”

I glanced up, mid-bite of my sandwich, and spotted Soccer Steve staring down at me with a smirk on his face.

“I was saying that it all makes sense now,” he grinned. “You being a chick and stuff.”

I put my breakfast down and eyed him warily. “How so?”

“Do you remember the first day of the semester? I told you that you looked like you had both lost weight and gained it at the same time; weird like.”

I thought back, although, in my defense, a lot has happened since then,“kinda?”

“I didn’t want to say you had a dump truck of an ass at the time, seeing as we were both dudes.”

I didn’t know how I felt about such a backhanded compliment. I felt mildly put out that I had been so obvious, even back then. The truth was that I was also equally glad that people had failed to put two and two together.

Did Steve mean well? He probably did, even if it was kinda insulting too. Did he know how to relate to me now or speak to me? Probably not; the bonus here was that it wasn’t an intended insult or violence, so I guess it was a net win.

“Uh, thanks?”

Steve put his plate down and invited himself to my table. “So, this is like a… going forward kinda deal?”

“Uhuh,” I agreed skeptically, watching his reaction carefully. “For the rest of my life, because I’m a girl.”

Steve took a big bite of a wurst and chewed thoughtfully. “I don’t really get it, but like, vibe how you gotta bro…ella?”

“I don’t have a coat made out of puppies,” I reply, raising an eyebrow.

“Sorry, kinda getting used to, like, not calling you bro or dude,” he admitted, scratching his neck a little nervously. “Like the force of habit, right? It’s not like you look like a guy or nothing… I guess you never really did. More just what I’m used to, uh, sorry.”

I shrugged and gave him a conciliatory smile to show I wasn’t offended. I had never really been friends with Steve, but he had never been nasty. If he was willing to talk to me still it was a bonus.

I wasn’t going to get all offended at pronoun confusion or wrong names for now. People are human and they are going to make mistakes. I rather chose to handle it with grace and understanding. I was asking a lot from them so the least I could do is give them some room to learn. Was it a free pass to get it wrong on purpose? Hell no.

A short while later some of his friends arrived so Steve excused himself to go and sit with them. They seemed to be giving me more than cursory attention themselves but I wasn’t as concerned. Steve seemed pretty genuine, so I could only hope that he might be a voice of reason amongst them.

“Did you sleep ok?”

I snapped out of my introspection as Chloe sat down beside me with her breakfast. “Sleep was the last thing I had to worry about,” I replied dryly. “I still think I’m news.”

“Oh, you will be until we go home I suspect, probably after too.” she nodded.

“Great.”

“Come on, there’s been nothing bad yet, right?”

I sipped my coffee and contemplated the thought. “Nothing beyond being told I had an ass like a dump truck.”

Chloe spat out her juice and blinked, “Who?”

I rolled my eyes, “Steve Harper, long story.”

“I mean, it’s a compliment of sorts,” she shrugged. “You do have a pretty nice butt.”

“What about her butt?” Emma asked, joining her friend.

“I was saying it was pretty nice,” Chloe replied casually, seemingly unbothered by my slow boil embarrassment. “It’s pretty impressive that she managed to keep the whole boy gig up this long with that thing.”

“Can we not objectify my butt over breakfast?”

 

 

The bus wound its way north through the traffic as we set off for our fourth grand day out in Deutschland. I had survived breakfast, and so far there had been no outwardly negative comments. Side eye had been in absolutely healthy supply, but I suspected that people were still trying to work out the mechanics of what and who I was.

The day’s adventure was to start out at the Schokoladenmuseum up in Cologne, the factory museum for a rather famous German brand of chocolate. No prizes for guessing who, of course!

After that, we were going to go ice skating in the city before spending the remainder of the afternoon free for shopping. After Wednesday, I think I needed a more relaxed schedule.

When I had bought the pretty white knitwear set at the start of the week, I had planned to take them home and treasure them as a memento of my adventure here. Little did I actually expect I would be wearing them like any other girl. It might seem silly, but I had never felt prettier than I did wearing that hat, gloves, and scarf.

I looked around as we drove and smiled to myself. All those little hopes and ‘one-day’ dreams were now a thing of the past. Here I was, Holly Winters sitting amongst my classmates. For better or worse, it was all me now. Sure, there would be negatives and there would be bad reactions, but I could weather them. With my girls around me, my family, and my friends, I could survive anything. I was going to do my damn best to show people that this was the real me and I deserved my shot.

It was a little before ten when we finally pulled to a stop by the river in central Cologne. There was a small metal bridge and a tiny little castle sitting right on the bank of the Rhine next to the man-made island that housed the Schokoladenmuseum Köln.

Well used to our orders by this point, we disembarked our transport and waited patiently for our teachers to decide what to do next. Yup, even we can manage to behave sometimes, although I suspect that this time chocolate was a strong motivating factor.

“What’s that?” Tina asked, pointing across the street, “Is that what I think that is?”

I followed her gaze across the street to a large white cream building that looked at first glance like a bakery.

“Kölner Senfmuseum,” I read the huge sign. “Yup, that is the Cologne Mustard Museum. I didn’t know there was that much to show about mustard.”

“You don't think we have to go in there, do we?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

“Only if you don’t listen to instructions, Fräulein Booth,” Frau Whistler pointed out from behind us, making everyone jump.

Our teacher clapped her hands to gather everyone’s attention. “Listen up people, the faster we get organized, the faster you can all be exploring the history of chocolate and getting to the gift shop, which I know is the only reason you’re all so keen this morning.” She glanced around the group with a knowing look.

“We’re going to split into two groups with Herr Norton and myself taking our respective classes. You will each get to take a guided tour separately, do you understand?”

The ripple of agreement seemed to indicate that everyone had followed this fairly simple concept. Don’t get me wrong, I understood what they were asking us to do and why, but given my present circumstances, I wasn’t entirely sure where I fell within that division.

Herr Norton seemed to notice my dithering as the groups began to separate. “What are you waiting for? Get on and join the other girls, Fräulein Winters.”

Welp, that was that; my first official tasking as a member of my true sex. Admittedly it was just a guided tour of a chocolate factory and not anything controversial, but I hoped that nobody made a big deal about it.

I joined the others to very little fanfare at all. Across the little footbridge, we approached the Schokoladenmuseum. It was quite a strange building; lots of glass inserted into what appeared to emulate a 19th-century Schloss, butted up against another wing that appeared to replicate the bow of a ship poking out into the Rhine. German architects are weird, ok?

The museum was split into three distinct portions; A greenhouse with real-life cocoa trees, the factory where you get to watch them mix and make the chocolate, and finally, the museum itself where you get to see the history of chocolate.

Our guide, a young woman called Lina, took us through each of the separate sections describing the process of making chocolate from the source farms to the shop shelf. Truly, as a fan of candy in general, it was fascinating to discover the complexities of its creation.

I expect you to think a museum dedicated to the history of chocolate would be pretty boring. After all, it’s just chocolate, right? It’s tasty and bad for your health and great when you’re feeling sad. It is, however, not particularly complicated, right?

When you realize that Chocolate has been involved in 5000 years of human history it takes on a very different angle. Originally starting out in present-day Ecuador, chocolate arrived in Europe in the 16th century with Dutch explorers… Always the Dutch… typical.

I will refrain from turning this into a lecture on the wider history and knowledge of chocolate as this is, at its core, a story of gender-bending shenanigans. If you get a chance to do a little internet adventuring, I highly recommend you read up; it’s a fascinating topic!

The tour had been a wonderfully relaxing and relatively warm morning compared to our trip so far this week. Most surprisingly, my being trans turned out to be entirely a non-issue. Obviously, they knew that I wasn’t a member of their class, but I think, the few I still hadn’t really spoken to just accepted the duck that walked and sounded like a duck as a fellow duck. Over my life, I found that other girls didn’t typically hold the same ‘ew trans’ hangups as boys. Well, at least more often than not.

“That’s really heavy,” Chloe admitted quietly as we stood before a display dedicated to the Second World War. Surprisingly, despite three days in Germany we hadn’t confronted this particular elephant yet.

It charted the use of the sweet treat during the global conflict, including special high-caffeine chocolate originally developed to keep bomber pilots awake on night missions. The more sobering part that we were currently reading, was detailing the part a tool of war played in helping to undo the damage of the war once it was over.

The so-called Scho-ka-kola, often called Aviator Chocolate, was given out to the German citizens after the conclusion of hostilities as the Allies helped the country recover from its near annihilation. Naturally, the high-calorie count of chocolate meant that it was given to many survivors of the horrific concentration camps to help boost their intake as they were liberated.

There was a particular photograph in the display that showed American GIs handing out chocolate bars to children in Bergen-Belsen Concentration Camp as medical personnel started treating the skeletal, shaved-headed youngsters. The sight was horrifying and truly difficult to process for us teenagers.

“Can you imagine what they went through?” Emma asked. “If I had grown up in Europe then, I might have been one of them.”

“Me too,” I sighed quietly.

“You’re Jewish too?” she asked, looking a little surprised. “I had no idea.”

“Trans, remember?” I replied, giving her a sad look. “People like me got sent to the chamber too.”

“Nobody our age should have to worry about being murdered for existing,” Sarah added. “I’m so sorry.”

I sniffed and felt tears begin to run freely down my cheeks. Standing there staring at the picture of starving children, seeing piled up bodies, and knowing that I could have been one of them if not for a quirk of fate was suddenly extremely real.

I knew that being who I was could get me killed, even in today’s world. People could and did murder girls like me for simply existing. That aside, being confronted by the industrial murder of people like me and Emma was truly horrifying. At that moment, I lost it and started openly crying.

“Here,” Tina offered, enveloping me in a hug. “It’s ok.”

“I… it’s just so sad; I’m scared,” I sobbed.

“It won’t happen to you,” she promised, squeezing me tightly. “I promise.”

I knew she couldn’t promise that; being a trans teenager was pretty terrifying on its own. It was even worse when you heard about murders happening in the news, or online. I knew it could happen; people were still murdered for being gay these days. The world was a pretty scary place when you were different, and in that moment, I empathized very strongly with the children in that display.

“Are we ok girls?”

We looked around to spot Herr Norton looking more than a little worried.

“Just emotional,” Chloe explained, releasing her grip on Emma who looked about as bad as me. “The display was quite moving…”

Herr Norton glanced past us, spotted the instantly recognizable scene, and frowned. “I understand. “Go and get yourselves cleaned up, I saw a bathroom back there.”

“Yes sir.”

I really hadn’t planned for my very first trip into the girls’ restroom since coming out to be to fix my tear-streaked makeup, but there you go. Call me a stereotype if you want, but the truth is, I didn’t even think about it at the time.

When I finished cleaning off my cheeks, I stared at my red, puffy eyes in the mirror. It wasn’t my finest look, but it seemed that both Emma and Sarah were in the same boat. As sad as the moment had been, it felt good to allow myself to show that emotion in public. Rather than crush it down deep, it was ok for me to express my emotions now. The fact that our reactions had been met with sympathy from our teacher rather than scorn was pretty nice too.

I splashed a little water on my face and finger-brushed my hair back into shape. Makeup truly is a magical creation; a little concealer and some new eyeliner and I didn’t look like I had been sobbing in a chocolate museum. Classy Hol, real classy.

A couple of girls entered the restroom and paused. Me being me, I was convinced that they had seen me and were reacting to my presence.

“Are you guys ok?” one of them asked uncertainly.

“Bit of a sob over the Holocaust display,” Tina offered. “We’re good.”

The girl smiled and the pair headed for the stalls without further word or interest in our at-sink activities.

“Feeling better?” Tina asked, hopping up on the counter next to the wash basin.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I was a little overcome all of a sudden.”

“It’s cool,” she shrugged. “You should see me when the ice cream machine is broken at McDaniels.”

I snorted and couldn’t help but smile.

Glancing over at Emma and Chloe, I spotted them talking quietly in the corner, Emma was still looking quite fragile. I wandered over and hovered cautiously just outside their bubble, not wanting to force myself in, “are you ok?”

She nodded and smiled sadly, “We’re a real pair, aren’t we?”

“I never knew you were Jewish,” I admitted, “this must be hard for you.”

She nodded, “I don’t make a fuss about it. My parents are way more devout than I am but that wouldn’t have mattered here, would it?”

“No,” I agreed. “But we’re not here then, we’re here now. It’s different and we’re ok.”

“Hormones, huh?” Chloe smiled, squeezing both our hands. “Couldn’t control them if you wanted to.”

Emma and I grinned at each other and at that moment, I felt exactly the same as my girlfriends. Sure, mine came out of a bottle, and theirs came out of their ovaries, but we both felt the same effects. The very same chemical influences controlled our emotions and our bodies. How we got there was a little different, but it felt natural regardless.

It was incredibly liberating to share this experience with friends and have them understand where I was coming from without needing to say a word. We could feel the same emotions, express them freely, and not be judged for being ourselves. My being transgender didn’t factor in even once. Nobody mentioned it and it didn’t play a role. At that time, we were just girls.

Other than our little pity party, I was surprised by how utterly normal the entire morning had been. The museum was really interesting, considering its sole focus was chocolate. I suppose it was a distinct improvement over the mustard museum though!

Truly though, being here with the girls’ class felt normal. It felt right for me and nobody else seemed to have any major problem with my presence. I had no delusion that this would be my perfect future, but it was a really great start all the same.

 

 

We met up with the boys' class in the gift shop after our tour was completed. As you can imagine, they sold a heck of a lot of chocolate here! While I had already purchased a few chocolatey gifts, I grabbed a couple of specialty sets to bring home for various people. I mean, everyone loves chocolate, right?

Whilst I had been in a pretty good mood with how accepting everyone had been, it was clear that it wasn’t destined to last for particularly long now that the classes were back together. One of the things I had noticed since our reunion with the boys' class, was that there was a lot more tittering and nudging directed towards me.

Collecting my purchases, I set off for the register with a couple of boxes of Köln’s finest treats. Before I could get there, however, I was bumped by an unseen figure, sending some of my purchases tumbling.

I wanted to turn and snap at them; I knew it was deliberate. Instead, I bent down, picked up the boxes, and continued on my way to the register without turning to look back. The chuckles of amusement behind me were enough to tell me why it had happened.

I had no idea which boys had done it, but I was determined to not let them see me bothered by it. There was only so much they could do within view of the teachers and until we returned, they would have no real chance to do anything else. All I had to do was keep my dignity and I would be fine. I was no stranger to bullying and this was no different.

Paying for my gifts, I made my way back over to the girls who were waiting by the exit. On the way, however, Kevin Patterson decided he wanted to identify as a problem. “Where you going, Winters?” he asked, stepping out in front of me.

I narrowed my eyes, “Over to my friends… do you want to let me get past?”

“What’s with the whole faggy shit?”

Boy, this guy struggles with simple concepts. “What exactly is faggy?”

Patterson frowned and gestured at my appearance. “The girly shit.”

Oh dear, this was going to be a struggle.

“I’m a girl,” I point out flatly. “Can I go?”

“But you’re a dude, that makes you a fag.”

I crossed my arms and looked up at the gormless idiot. “So what if I was?”

“So you admit you’re a fag!” he declared triumphantly. “I knew it!”

This was going to take all week, I clearly had to lead him by the nostrils. “And so what if I was? Why does that concern you?”

“I don’t want you perving on me, faggot,” he sneered derisively.

“You’re not my type, sorry Kevin, I don’t like guys that are bullies.”

Suddenly Kevin drew back aghast at my accusation, “I’m not a bully!”

Oh boy.

“Yeah, you are. You pick on people all the freaking time and you’ve beaten up half a dozen freshmen this semester alone. How many times have you been in detention for it? Three times? You’re a bully. You came over here now to pick on me and call me names. I don’t like bullies.”

“But it’s just a joke…” he pointed out weakly. “I’m not…”

I stepped around the confused boy and made my way over to my friends.

“Problem?” Chloe asked, glancing back at the still-floundering Kevin.

“He was calling me a faggot but couldn’t fathom that I wasn’t interested in him,” I rolled my eyes. “I think his vanity at a girl saying she found bullies repulsive overrode his rat brain.”

She smirked, “Probably.”

 

 

The bus dropped us at the Heumarkt just after lunch. Like the other markets, it was pretty large and had tons of stalls selling everything from woodwork to beer. This one, however, was dominated by a huge skating rink that took up most of the main square.

Our teachers paid our way, and soon forty excited teens were booting up in preparation for taking to the ice. Was this perhaps the smartest move for someone who recently partied with hypothermia? Probably not, but I promise you that I was wrapped up very warm and totally protected against the elements.

Once we were ready, the staff allowed us onto the ice. Most of us were, as expected, pretty awful. Just picture a bunch of drunken idiots trying to walk home from a night out. There was a great deal of squealing, sliding, grabbing, and falling before we found our feet.

I want you to understand that I have never ice skated before in my life; not even once. I have, however, partaken of one of the early 2000s favorite pastimes; rollerblading. I was no extreme sports star, but I was pretty capable of racing around and having a little fun. It turns out that this translates extremely well to the ice-based version, just swap your wheels for a pair of knives on your feet and you’re off; the friction is a little different, but you soon adapt.

Chloe and Sarah had both skated before and Emma had not, but she found her balance fairly quickly. Tina, however, was utterly incompetent…

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck…” the small blur squealed as she went rocketing past us along one of the straights of the rink.

“Does someone want to go get her?” Emma asked as she held firmly onto my arm for stability.

“I got it,” Chloe grinned as she kicked off along the ice towards our flailing pixie missile.

“I have no idea how she manages to get into these spots…” she shook her head. “She’s as bad as me, but at least I’m going slow.”

“I’ve not skated either,” I pointed out, ensuring we maintain a pleasant pace along the ice.

“Unlike me, you’re doing a far better job of it!” she giggled.

The rink at the Heumarkt was shaped like a stretched capital B. It was a back-and-forth straight in the middle with two circles at each end, one of which wrapped around a statue at the center of the market. We were just entering that upper loop when I found myself on my ass, staring up at the grey sky above us.

“What the hell?”

Two boys skated past laughing and high-fiving each other as they passed. It was probably nothing… boys are boisterous and clumsy, right?

“Are you ok?” Emma asked, offering me her hand. “Those guys are assholes, ignore them.”

Taking the hand I wobbled unsteadily back to my feet. “Yeah, just assholes,” I rolled my eyes. “They should watch out a bit more.”

We picked up our skating and even managed to finally rejoin the others. Tina? She was as wobbly as balancing a drunken kitten on a baseball.

“Would you quit over-correcting?” Chloe chided, gripping her arm as Tina’s legs made another bid for freedom. “Straighten your legs and just bend your knees a little, tense your butt cheeks…”

I tuned out of the Bambi on ice exercise and gazed around the market. The atmosphere was beautifully festive and I was so very happy to be here. From the mouthwatering scent of food to the Christmas music piped over the speakers, it was pretty hard to not feel extremely festive.

Something heavy slammed into my back and sent me sprawling into the boards that lined the side of the rink. Behind me, I heard laughter again and the word ‘faggot’. Boy, they really do manage to come up with original material, don’t they?

“Are you ok?” Chloe asked, kneeling down beside me.

I grimaced and said something unladylike under my breath as I regained my footing. “I’m fine, I think. Maybe just a little winded. That was on purpose, wasn’t it?”

Chloe nodded sadly, “Yeah, I think so. Do you want me to go get Herr Norton?”

Using the boards to pull myself back up to my feet, I shook my head. “No; I don’t want any drama. I’d rather just get on with this and hope they get bored before too long.”

“Come on Hol,” Tina interjected, before wobbling violently. “That was on purpose, they’re being asshats, They deserve it.”

“I don’t want to ruin the afternoon,” I sighed. “Let's just go guys, come on; we could go check out some stalls?”

Back on our skates, we endeavored to finish the lap. We had been out on the ice for some time and both Emma and Tina were still struggling to really keep themselves vertical. With my new fan club, it seemed prudent to make some space and avoid the conflict rather than have it out when we all had knives strapped to our feet.

We made our way along the lane and out into the broad circle around the fountain at the eastern end of the square. Here, families and friends were merrily skating around and enjoying the festive spirit. There was not an insignificant number with big mugs of Glühwein in hand. Hmm, how to score me some of that, I wonder? I would have to come up with a plan… I’m sure I have some ninja smoke bombs in my handbag.

After circling around the fountain a couple of times, we finally decided to make for the exit. That plan however was foiled when the same group of boys came rolling in and barged us into the barriers. Tina and Emma both hit the ice while one of the larger boys slammed me into the barriers.

“What the fuck? Screw you guys!” Tina squealed.

“Fucking faggot,” a guy called, buoyed on by cheers from his friends. “Nothing but a sissy bitch.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Emma screamed, shoving one of the guys. It was a noble gesture, but it lost a lot of its sting when she slipped over and landed on her butt again.

“Look at all of you! You’re all pretending that the sissy fag is one of you… it's fucked up!” another called out. “Sh…he’s not a real girl but you’re all pretending like he is!”

Pulling myself to my feet, I balled my fists tightly and did my best to stand my ground before them, “Leave my friends alone.”

The ringleader was a guy called Sam Collins. He was a typical run-of-the-mill bully type that I usually had little interaction with. It seemed like he had chosen today to make us better acquainted. Stepping closer, he looked me up and down and smirked nastily, “Aww, hey guys look… the faggot wants to try and be a man finally.”

“Leave my friends alone,” I repeated more firmly than I felt. “We don’t want any trouble.”

“Well, you got trouble, fag,” he snarled, prodding me hard in the chest. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Get lost, asshole,” Chloe growled, stepping up beside me. “Stop calling her a faggot and get out of here before I tell our teacher what you’re doing.”

“Aww, the little girl’s going to tattle on us.” He laughed. “I bet you’re a dyke… all of you are fucking dykes.”

Remember that big mouth of mine? Yeah, it goes off without warning at inappropriate moments. Usually when someone is trying to decide just how much they want to pound me into dust. I really need to learn to manage that one better.

“I thought I was a faggot? make your mind up.”

Sam swung back towards me and glared with pure hatred. With a snarl, his arm cranked back and I tensed for an impact I could never begin to avoid on a pair of ice skates. The punch, however, never came.

Right as he was about to hit me, Sam was taken off his feet by a fast-moving object that dumped him full force into the barriers with an almighty crunch. It took me a moment to realize that it had been a person… a really familiar person.

“Leave her alone dickstain,” Gary growled.

“What’s your problem, Byrne?” One of the others snapped, “What the fuck did you do that for?”

You remember Gary, right? He’s the nerdy guy friend who has been identifying as a douchebag ever since he learned that I was trans. Unlike his sisters who are my best friends, Gary has had a far more difficult time coming to terms with my being a girl.

To say it was a surprise that he appeared out of nowhere to defend me would be an understatement. That he decked a guy twice his size so hard that pro hockey teams are lining up to sign him? Even stranger.

While this altercation takes place, more and more of our classmates are starting to congregate by the fountain, drawn in by the sight of impending violence. A gaggle of girls have come to our side and are now forming a bit of a huddle around me and the others.

“Leave her alone,” Gary repeated bluntly, staring down Sam’s friends with ill-disguised anger. The chief dipshit was picking himself up off the ice and he doesn’t look remotely pleased. Wiping blood from his nose with the back of his hand, he sniffs, “I’m going to kill you for that, Byrne. Why the fuck are you defending the little faggot? Do you wanna fuck him in the ass, huh?”

Gary barks out a laugh, a short sharp ‘hah’ sound. Before Sam Collins gets a chance to do anything, Gary hits him with a right hook that quite literally puts him on ice. I’ll be honest, I’m actually rather impressed.

“You’re going to stop calling her a faggot and you’re going to stop being assholes,” he states calmly, looking them all in the eye. “If you lay a finger on her or any other girl here again, I will lay you out, do you hear me?”

Not a single one answered, but it didn’t really matter. Somehow, the nerdy guy had stood up to a bunch of bullies and won. All of this in defense of me? To say I was stunned was a minor understatement.

Before I could speak to him, however, our teachers and one of the skating rink attendants arrived to restore peace and separate the crowd that was threatening to block the other skaters.

“Are you ok Holly?” Amy, one of the girls from the previous night asked, having finally made it through the mass of bodies.

Frau Whistler eased her way through the bodies to find the group of us by the railing, feeling a little sorry for ourselves. “Girls, are you ok? Holly?”

“We’re fine,” I think,” I admitted. “I… We didn’t do anything to provoke them.”

“I know, we saw,” she sighed. “By the time we got close enough to intervene it was already going on. Go and get yourselves off the ice.”

At this point, the magic of skating had been pretty much ruined for us, so we headed landside and returned to far less sharp footwear. By the looks of things, Mister Collins and his amigos were being collared by our educators in a rather unpleasant way if Herr Norton’s hand gestures were anything to go by.

“Are you ok?”

I turned around and found a girl I didn’t actually know looking at me uncertainly.

“Yeah, uh, I’m… fine,” I offered with a weak smile, “Sorry, I…”

“Claire,” she nodded. “I know we haven’t… that wasn’t right, what they did.”

I shrugged, “No, but I guess it could have been worse. I’m just upset that they hurt my friends to get to me.”

Claire’s expression hardened. “Look, I can’t speak for the others, but what they did was wrong. I might not understand what you’re doing, but you seem like a nice girl and your friends clearly think the world of you,” she added, glancing over at the gang with a smile.

I smiled back at her, “Thanks, that means a lot to me.”

As Claire turned her back to go find her friends, I spotted the least feminine Byrne sibling slouching away on his own.

Who would have imagined that Gary would come to my defense? It was more of a shock than the abuse I had received from the boys today. Their behavior was something I had expected, as much as it hurt to experience. Gary however had hurt me a great deal; we had been friends and the way he had looked at me that day… something had snapped between us.

For him to ride to my defense so strongly after everything he had done and how he had acted? I wasn’t sure how to feel. I still felt quite strongly about what had happened and his behavior but he had called me Holly… perhaps I had misjudged him.

I separated from the group and jogged over to where he was walking, “Gary?”

One of my longest childhood friends stopped in his tracks and turned around. His face was difficult for me to read, but it didn’t seem hostile. I suddenly felt quite embarrassed and uncertain about what I had planned to say.

“Uh, thanks for… before.”

Gary shrugged, “Not a big deal. I just… that was uncalled for.”

“Still, you didn’t have to,” I admitted. “I know things have been difficult between us, but I appreciate it.”

Gary frowned and shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “Yeah, things have been difficult and that’s my fault. When… I found out about you, it threw me. I didn’t know how to feel. I guess I felt a little betrayed.”

“I didn’t mean you to find out like you did,” I offered. It was an accident and then you reacted badly and… I thought you hated me.”

“I couldn’t hate you Holly, I just… it was a shock.”

Woah, he said my name… that felt surprisingly good to hear.

I let my shoulders sag. “I’ve been a bad friend, I’m sorry.”

An eyebrow raised, but he said nothing, so I continued regardless. “When I fell into depression last year, I became real difficult to be friends with,” I admitted. “When I started taking hormones, I had to become secretive to protect myself from discovery. I never planned to come out like this, I was going to…” I sighed. “That’s not important now.”

“Then your sisters found out,” I continued. “I was finally able to be myself and relax with friends and I ignored you. I feel really bad about that. We were friends and I got so caught up in myself, I… I’m sorry.”

Gary shrugged, “I thought you didn’t like me anymore and didn’t want to be friends. Then you rubbed it in my face by spending so much time with my sisters. When I found out, I was so… it was a lot,” he admitted.

“I got overwhelmed and I reacted badly at the time. I guess seeing you this week, even before yesterday. It convinced me that this is who you really are. Hell, it’s who you’ve always been, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I replied quietly, unable to look up.

“Thanks to your terrifying brother, I knew you had to keep this a secret. I kept seeing you slipping…You kept making mistakes and I would see Holly rather than Alex. I was worried that the guys would find out.”

“And then I made a big splash.”

“Something like that,” he admitted with a half smile. “I’m sorry I was such a huge douche Holly… I didn’t know how to relate to you anymore and I withdrew and… I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”

“Me neither,” I smiled. Without thinking about it, I stepped forward and hugged him. It was one of those impulsive actions that you just can’t control and have to worry about afterward. At first, I felt his body tense up. After a moment, however, I felt him relax and wrap his arms around me.

As I stood there, hugging one of my oldest friends, I finally felt like a circle had closed. He had been in the wrong, hell, he had acted like a total douche canoe. The truth, however, was that I too had withdrawn and sidelined him in my tunnel-visioned focus on myself. There was blame on both sides and counting the credit would benefit nobody.

If we could say sorry, we could give each other another chance. Friendships were worth more than that. Hell, we were kids, what did we really know?

 

 

Curled up in my bed later that evening, I marveled at my experiences of the day; my first full day as my real self with no secrets and no hiding. I won’t pretend it was easy, but it was over. For good and for bad, I was out in the open living as myself. I was disappointed that people had a problem with me, but I couldn’t be entirely surprised.

The truth was, I was incredibly lucky. For the most part, the girls seemed to accept me. I wasn’t naive enough to presume every girl would and that it would all come out smelling of roses, but it did bode well for next year. My future classmates in at least one subject seemed fairly accepting.

I had friends, amazing friends who cared for me and enjoyed spending time with me. What kid can ask for more? In the jungle that is high school, that’s equivalent to finding a big juicy buffalo to gobble down. I just had to watch out for larger predators and I’d probably be ok.

The boys reacted as I expected; it was funny, it was worthy of bullying and abuse. I could only expect it might get a little worse initially, but the sheen would wear off and they would find a new target to enjoy, I hoped. Eventually, something shinier would come alone when I was out of their visual range; teenage boys can be a lot like a T-Rex at times.

Gary was the surprise of the century, if I was honest with myself. I had never expected him to support me or for us to find common ground. He had been one of my longest friends and I had regretted how he found out. I wanted to tell him; that I owed it to him. That we had a second chance filled me with joy. It was out in the open now and I could start to mend that relationship.

The most important fact was that I was now just Holly Winters, Alex was but a memory. Sure, I knew it wasn’t that simple. As much as I hated it, it was still my legal name and it was on the passport I would be needing fairly soon. The truth was, I had made the final mental separation from my past self. It wasn’t bad, and I didn’t hate the name Alex, but it wasn’t mine.

Closing my eyes, I said a silent prayer for the boy that had been. He wasn’t me, he never had been. The truth was, that he was a small part of me that I had constructed to help me cope with living in a world that saw me as Alex. He had carried me and allowed me to get this far, supported me, and dried my tears. He had given everything to keep me walking so that one day I might run. Finally, when it was all too much, he collapsed from the effort and breathed his last. In a small way, I owed him my life.

I wiped my tears away and picked up my cell phone. Right now, after the day I had experienced and my little fragile moment, I needed to hear a comforting voice. I found the number I wanted and dialed.

“Hello?”

“Rick,” I sniffed.

“Holly? What’s wrong? Are you ok?”

“I’m ok, Rick,” I smiled at the ceiling. “It’s been an emotional day, but I’m ok. How are you?”

The deep bassy voice chuckled on the other end of the line, making my heart flutter. “I’m doing great. School blows, but what’s new? How are things?

Where the hell to start…

“I uh, I came out,” I offered.

“Holy crap, really? Are you ok? What happened?”

My gosh, isn’t that a complicated question? I proceeded to explain the happenings of the previous days' adventures from my dunking to the present. Gosh, it feels like it all happened so very long ago.

“That’s insane,” Rick agreed. “Are you sure that you’re ok?”

“I’m a big girl; I’ll survive,” I admitted with a shrug that only I could see. “I guess, people will find out when we get back unless someone called home.”

“I’m so proud of you,” Rick replied softly. Even over the phone, I can feel the smile on his lips.

“I’ll be home in like, two days, ish,” I explained. “We leave at two on Saturday… that gets us home at… uh, seven Pacific?”

“Your folks meeting the plane?”

“Yeah, they are,” I confirmed. “I can’t wait to see you again, it feels like forever.”

Rick chuckled softly, “Me too. I’ve missed you so much. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms again. I bet you look beautiful right now.”

“I’m just in my pajamas,” I protested. “I’m in bed.”

“Are you? What are you wearing?”

“Rick!” I giggled. “Don’t be dirty.”

“Oh, this is dirty?” he leered. “I’m just in my boxers, lying back on my bed here, thinking about the hottest girl I know.”

Oh dear, that was a mental image. Does anyone have a fan?

I regretted not having anything sexier to wear. “I’m just wearing a t-shirt,” I admitted, “and my panties.”

Rick chuckled and made an approving noise and I felt that delicious squiggle in my tummy.

You wanted more, didn’t you? As much as it will disappoint you, dear reader, I am not going to go any further with recounting that particular conversation. Such a shame. You should know me better by now. Let’s just say that we were both teenagers, and we used up far more phone credit than my parents would be pleased with. By the time we said our goodbyes, I was rather hot and bothered. That boy is in serious trouble when we get home, so help him.

 

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