My final morning in Germany started out pretty weird, but what’s new these days? Despite it only being a few days since the grand whoopsie, dressing as Alex felt distinctly uncomfortable now. I knew that I had to go through security as a boy, so any Hollesque deviations were going to just add trouble and cause delays and embarrassment. Yeah, yeah, a normal day for me, I know.

Was I afraid of people finding out now? Of course not. I was more afraid of officials denying me entry back into my own country. It turns out that in the wake of the Saudi Shuffle, confirming identities and international terrorism were hot topics.

I was in full Alex that morning for the occasion: Cargo pants, t-shirt, hoodie, and sneakers. There was no makeup, jewellery or funky hair in attendance at all. I did my level best to resurrect him, but the reality was that he was long gone. The girl looking back at me in the mirror looked tired and plain, but she was undeniably a girl.

Let’s not even comment on my nails, shall we? I was rather glad that my hoodie’s sleeves were long enough for me to hide my hands inside them. There was no way on this planet that I was removing the polish or clipping the gorgeous extensions. I would rather wear mittens for the entire flight than risk damaging my precious talons.

Grungy Alex-drag was certainly quite the dramatic shift from last night’s sultry shenanigans. I had enjoyed myself, even if I hadn’t been particularly comfortable showing that much skin. Still, it had been infinitely preferable to dressing up as a boy, even if most people still didn’t believe me.

My belongings packed up, including all of my presents and wardrobe acquisitions, I slipped my snowflake necklace around my neck and slipped it inside my shirt. I could feel like Holly even if they didn’t see it. It made me happier than I felt at the moment. A much needed middle finger to the universe.

It was more than ironic to me that I got more weird looks at breakfast for dressing like a boy than when I was presenting as Holly. It was probably the old classic ‘What has been seen cannot be unseen’ adage in full action. Now that people knew who I really was, they struggled to rationalize the boy they had spent the first half of the trip with, and the mousy quiet girl in a hoodie. Even people who didn’t like me, or who didn’t agree with what I was doing, could now see the falseness in my presentation.

In honour of the festive season and that cinematic masterpiece of airducts, explosions, and dodgy German accents; welcome to the party pal.

“You look pretty ridiculous, girl,” Chloe chuckled as she came up behind me in the breakfast queue.

”It’s Alex drag or passport control will treat me like a sock puppet,” I shrug, pouring myself a coffee to go with my hearty breakfast.

”You had trouble coming out here, right?”

I nodded as we made our way over to join the others. “Yeah, TSA was a little odd, but the Germans barely believed me.”

”And now you’ve blown the boy routine apart. Do you think it’s going to be any easier?”

”Probably not,” I admitted sheepishly.

We sat down with the others and started on our breakfast. The atmosphere was admittedly rather mixed. On one hand, we were quite sad to be heading home, but equally glad to be soon returning to our families. My own situation would likely complicate matters and I hadn’t really considered the return to school afterward.

In a microcosm, this trip had gone fairly well. It had not been without speed bumps, and it had its fair share of surprises. The truth was, going back to school for a final week was going to be a whole different matter.

Whatever was to come, I would face it as the girl that I truly was. Holly Juliette Winters was in the open now and there was going to be no putting me back in the box. I had friends now; boys and girls alike. Allies that would side with me and hold me up if I stumbled. The future was mine to grasp and I wasn’t going to live in fear anymore.

Thankfully conversation diverted away from me and on to far more mundane topics. It was good to finally just blur into the background. Was it only a week ago that I had done this every single day? It felt strange now, far more than strange.

Once our breakfast was concluded, our teachers guided us through the utter chaos that was checking out and gathering our baggage to be loaded back on the bus. You truly wouldn’t believe how much people managed to forget or mislay; phones, wallets, clothes, and entire bags.

I won’t even get into how many people managed to misplace passports between their room and the lobby, it was worse than a game of charades in a dementia ward. To tell the truth, I really have concerns for the future of the free world if we are some of its brightest and boldest.

Once our idiots were corralled and our belongings loaded, we boarded the bus for the final trip of our grand Deutsch adventure; Wessling to Frankfurt south along the Autobahn. We had about three hours of driving to complete before we could check in for our flight a little after lunch.

I settled down into my seat beside Tina as we pulled away from the hotel. “You remember that first night? When we walked into town?”

“That seems like a lifetime ago,” she agreed. “I told you that you would make this trip interesting.”

“It was pretty good without my mess.”

She grinned at me and gave me a shoulder bump, “Yeah, but you did make it much more memorable.”

“I just wonder what it will be like when I get home.”

“What will be like what?” Sarah asked, leaning over the seats behind us.

I rolled my eyes. Why even bother to have a private conversation amongst this gaggle? “I wonder what school will be like when I get back.”

“The same as before probably,” she shrugs. “Ooh, for you?”

I blink, “No, Otto Von Bismarck.”

It takes her far too long to realize that I’m being sarcastic and she finally grins sheepishly. “I mean, it can’t be that bad, right?”

“No idea yet,” I admit. “Gotta make it back into the US first.”

She makes a face, “Good point… wait; if they don’t let you back in, does that mean you set off to become a pirate queen?”

As we crossed over the Rhine at Bonn, I bid a silent goodbye to the river that had baptized me in some small way. Who would have imagined that in one week I had managed to utterly balls up this entire enterprise so badly?

Who even comes out of the closet five thousand miles from home and their support network? It was so insane, so utterly brainless, and so utterly me that it felt somehow preordained. One long sequence of events that seemed to fit together like a perfect jigsaw of stupidity.

From the moment I had popped that first pill, I had ripped the brake lever off the minecart and sent myself plummeting along the tracks. Every turn, I would somehow just scrape by on two screaming sparking wheels. Every gap in the track we seemed to sail over before slamming back into the groove again. It was a rollercoaster of stupidity and it was somehow my life.

I would never change it, not for a single moment. Holly Winters was a product of this chaos. Somehow, it was my crucible, it forged me stronger and tougher, able to withstand almost anything. Sure, right now it was terrifying, but after you were done you turned to the attendant and begged to go around the ride again.

As we rolled onto the southbound Autobahn, I watched my friends bickering back and forth between their seats. These mad women had joined the Holly Express and were merrily enjoying the carnage it wrought as it plowed through the buffers. I was lucky to have them, as nuts as they all were. January couldn’t come soon enough. Choo, choo!

 

 

Standing outside on the sidewalk at Frankfurt International Airport, I took a long last gulp of German air. Sure, the air inside the terminal was still equally Deutsch, but it was the principle of the thing… it’s far more cinematic this way, get with the program.

This trip had changed me and I was almost sad to go, as excited as I was to get home. Home meant reality, and reality meant consequences. For now, I had two challenges; checkin and security. Once that was done, it was almost an entire day until I had to face anything else. I took one last look around at the grey December sky and followed the others inside.

It was almost a mirror of our departure from the US, but this time, we were a little less unruly and far easier to control now the excitement of the pending trip was behind us. Everyone gathered together and produced their documents on time and stood in an orderly line. It was almost like we had done this before.

The line progressed pretty quickly and before two shakes of a wurst, I was facing the Airline employee at the check-in desk.

“Good morning Fräulein, your passport?”

I smiled politely and handed over my documents.

The agent looks down, the agent frowns, the agent looks up… the agent looks back down. Yeah, you know where this is going, don’t you? Sadly, I Reisenpass-ed far too well.

“This is your passport…?”

“Uh, yeah, if you look at the photo? My name is Alex Winters.” I offered, deepening my voice as much as possible. Ok, that isn’t much, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

The woman raised an eyebrow. “What’s your date of birth, Junger Mann?”

“Twenty-Fifth of February, 1988,” I sighed.

The woman nodded and handed me the passport back. “Here you go Herr Winters, place your bag on the scale please.”

I followed her instructions and watched as she tagged my case before transferring it to the conveyor that whisked it way to the luggage labyrinth. She typed on the computer for a moment before handing me a boarding pass. “Enjoy your flight.”

As I took the pass from her, the woman’s expression clouded and she frowned. I followed her eyes down to our hands holding the pass and spotted the problem straight away. My nails were a LOT nicer than hers. It turns out, keeping one’s hoodie sleeve over one's fingers and using them is a lot harder than it seems. Think fast, dumbass.

“Heh, I grinned sheepishly, “Horrible accident with a glitter delivery truck, you should have seen the other guy.”

She released the pass in confusion and I vanished before she could think more clearly. Thankfully, the next student in line appeared before her and distracted her from thinking any more deeply. Crisis averted, I set off to go find the others with my precious documents in hand. One obstacle was down without too much pushback; I could only keep my fingers crossed for a smooth ride home.

I spotted Tina and the others waiting at the end of the row. Sidling up behind her I finally let my fingers poke out of my hoodie sleeves. What? Do you think I damaged my precious beautiful nails? You must be kidding.

“One down, the worst to go,” I grinned, wiggling my boarding pass.

Tina smirked, “They let you on, eh? I thought we’d have to fly home without you.”

“Not over yet,” I pointed out, eying security warily. “Then there’s customs back at home too.”

“I guess I never really think about it,” Chloe mused with a frown. “I’ve never not looked like my ID.”

I pulled out my passport and handed it to her. “Oh, I look like my ID; the photo is only a month or two old. The name and gender marker, however, not so much.”

She snickered as she handed it back, “That’s true, girl.”

Herr Norton arrived to interrupt the conversation. “Right, we’re heading for security, remove any jewelry you’ve forgotten, ladies. Anything metal, place it in your bag, ok?”

“There go my three nipple piercings,” Tina sighed dramatically. Our teacher’s eyes widened briefly before he switched to a scowl. “No need for snark Fräulein Booth, just do it, please?”

As he vanished, we broke out into giggles. “You’re awful,” Sarah grinned. “I thought he was going to pop a gasket.”

“Wait, three?” Emma frowned doing visible mental math. “Where’s the third?”

Tina rolled her eyes, “I don’t have any, blondie.”

“You’re blonde too!”

Yeah, you can’t pick your friends.

Airports aren’t fans of guns for quite obvious reasons, and in Europe, they are a little more uptight about them than we are back at home in the US. Why do I mention this? Was I packing a pistol in my petticoats? No, not quite.

It seemed that our travel had coincided with the conclusion of a European gun show (yes, they have them) in Frankfurt, and every single international visitor had decided to fly home at once. This meant that the lines at security were excruciatingly long as security gloved up to molest the attendees. You would think they might realize that bullet keyrings and novelty paraphernalia might not be carry-on suitable.

Ordinarily, a bit of a wait is no problem at all. I’m a kid, I had nowhere to go but a cramped seat on an airliner for the better part of a day; stretching my legs in the terminal didn’t bother me. The trouble was that, by the time the European rednecks had cleared security, the staff were pretty much on autopilot.

“Herren hier, Damen hier bitte!”

Uh…

I shuffled into line behind the boys and dropped into my best hunch and scowl. My hands were in my sleeves. Grunt, comply, and do what they ask and it’s all over. As annoying as it was to have to go back to Alex, at least it was really only this one time, and then I was done.

The line moved forward and nobody screamed and shouted about my presence, so I relaxed. All my belongings went into the plastic bin, my cell, my backpack, and I even remembered to remove my watch!

I handed over my passport and boarding pass to the agent and stepped through the metal detector.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.

Fuck.

“Junger….fräulein? Uh, can you step this way?”

Fiddleshits.

I followed the agent to the side and spread my arms out to get wanded. You all know the drill, don’t you? The officer proceeded to wave his wand up and down me before it started wailing once it hit my neck. As it went off, I had a sickening realization; the snowflake.

“Oh, I forgot an um…”

My brain went blank as I had to utter the word necklace. Why? Not only do boys not generally wear them, but especially not cute little snowflakes. Nor do they have to get their pretty festive nails out to unlatch the thing. I do make a hash of things, don’t I?

Resigned to a problematic explanation, I unlatched and removed the necklace and handed it to the officer. As expected, his eyes narrowed. “You were meant to go through the other line, Fräulein, this is for the Herren.”

The man turned to his colleague. “Nina, kannst du sie durchsuchen?”

The woman that I assumed was Nina wandered over and smiled robotically. “English?”

I nodded, “American.”

“Ok, hold out your arms please.”

I did as instructed and the officer patted me down in an efficient and professional manner. Was it weird when she ran the backs of her hands around my boobs while dressed as Alex? Uh, yeah… but apparently these guys were not comparing my passport to my person and I wasn’t planning to tell them. I mean, I’m not defrauding anyone if they didn’t ask, am I?

“Ok, you are clean,” she announced, handing me back my necklace and documents. “Watch this next time, eh?”

I took it back and grinned sheepishly, “tut mir Leid.”

She smiled at my apology and waved me off to join the others.

“All good?” Tina asked as I joined the group.

“Somehow,” I smiled. “It’s not as fun going this way as it was coming here.”

By the time we had finally all cleared security, it was a little after half past twelve. With our flight not departing until two, our teachers released us to roam the departures hall with threats of abandonment if we missed the gate call.

Knowing that we were going to be eating airplane food for the better part of a day, we decided to fill our faces here where there was actual legroom and fresh produce. Well, at least the burgers were fresh; to our teenage minds that was basically the same thing.

“I think even the BurgerBaron here in Germany tastes way better than back home,” Chloe declared, wiping her mouth. “It’s like, real meat and salad.”

“I’m shocked you two are eating burgers,” Sarah giggled. “I thought cheerleaders were allergic to carbs?”

Emma looked at Chloe and shrugged, “I don’t know about her, but I’ve walked more than I do in a month this week and I deserve a treat.”

“I could never eat just salad,” I opine. “I think I’d shrivel up and die.”

“She eats what she likes and still has a body like that? I’m dead,” Chloe sighs dramatically. “It’s alright for some.”

“I’m a growing girl,” I smirk. “Although I can’t eat anywhere as much as Rob. I have no idea where he puts it all.”

“Boys are weird,” she shrugs, nibbling on a fry.

Sarah leaned back in her chair and glanced over at me, “What are you going to do when you get back? You never did say.”

“Not sure,” I admitted. “They might make me go back for the last week. It could get interesting.”

“Will they transfer you early?”

I made a face, “Probably not. More likely to keep me home.”

“What about finals?”

“I didn’t really think any of this through,” I admit glumly. “I’m heading home to uncertainty, a possible ass-whupping, and a lot of drama that I could have avoided if I had just kept it together for a few more days.”

“It’s not your fault,” Chloe reassures me. “This was going to happen; it was insane to expect you to make it till Christmas. Honestly, I think you busted your ass to even make it this far. Nobody should have had to do that.”

That was a good question. It was certainly one I had been pondering ever since my tumbling out of the closet this week. Had they made me wait too long? It was a question that we never really had an answer to. The truth was, I never really knew myself.

It was certainly a problem borne directly from being at a school that was separated by gender; anyone transitioning would face that issue. Was it sensible or even safe for the student to have to wait past a point of reasonable integration for the sake of class sizes or academic adjustment? Frankly, there was no real way to know what worked best when we were so few in number.

Every trans kid ended up being a case study in themselves; all of us fit into our world differently and no one solution worked for all of us. Ideally, I would have been transferred after I came back from my time off; a perfect opportunity to transfer. Had going on this trip even been a smart choice, given the potential for issues so far from home? It didn’t matter. What was done was done and what the future held, we would find out.

It was over now; there was no more Alex. He was long gone and there was no bringing back the boy. It was all I could manage to simply pass myself off as a boy to security, and even that worked poorly. Holly was here, and she wasn’t going back in the box, even if I dressed like a lesbian (According to Tina).

 

 

“Enjoy your flight, Fräulein,” the flight attendant beamed as she returned my boarding pass.

“Thanks.”

I followed the next monkey in line along the jet bridge that connected the terminal to our waiting aircraft. Our home for the next fourteen hours was a huge Jumbo, painted in the eponymous blue, yellow, and white of the German national flag carrier. Below her cockpit, “Wolfsburg” was written in a cursive font. I’m not sure why, but I felt a little safer flying in a plane that had a name. Call me silly, but it almost gave it a personality in my headcanon.

As I stepped onboard the jet, another grinning flight attendant was waiting, “Willkommen Fräulein.”

“Uh, Danke.” I mean, what do you really say? You have to be polite or you look like an asshat.

I made my way aft and tried to find my row. According to my ticket, I was in 30A, somewhere just over the wing. I grabbed my CD Jogdude and a novel out of my backpack and reached up to slot it into the overhead locker.

“I got that,” a voice offered, taking the bag out of my hands and slotting it easily into the locker. I turned around and came face to chin with Steve Baker.

“Uh, thanks.”

Steve grinned, “Looks like we’re neighbors today, I’m middle seat.”

“Window,” I waved my ticket.

We found our way into our seats and got ourselves settled for the flight. Seat buddies were always going to be a random shot of luck as we had no control over assignments. Steve was on my neutral/nice list, so it was a win in my book. Kevin Patterson or any of his buddies would have been a distinctly unpleasant prospect.

“So you’re doing… Alex?”

I waved my passport and made a face, “Tis still my legal name, unfortunately.”

“You still look like a girl,” he offered. “Not that I mind.”

“I kinda have one setting these days.”

“You’ve only had one setting for some time,” he grinned. “That’s not offensive to say, is it?”

I shook my head, “Nah; I was surprised I made it this long.”

“When I saw transsexuals on TV, they were always in like, super short skirts and loads of makeup and shit,” he admitted. “It was kinda like, really out there. They all seemed to be trying to get laid as often as possible. I guess it made the whole ‘I always felt like a woman in a man’s body’ schtick kinda seemed a bit far-fetched.”

I glanced over at him to see where this was going. “And?”

“You’re just a girl.”

I frowned, “Yeah?”

Steve shrugged and looked a little lost, “I guess… it makes it make far more sense. Like, you’d make an awful boy.”

I glanced out of the window as we taxied towards the runway. “I did, but that wasn’t why I did it.”

“It’s because it’s who you’re meant to be, where you fit in; the position that works best for you. See, when I play soccer, I’m a striker; I’m great at it. I’m not a center back or a goalie, my best position is up at the front focusing on the attack. It’s what I understand and it’s how I can best interact with my teammates. I guess… that’s just where you fit best… “

I consider his metaphor for a moment. Sure, soccer is a little mundane in comparison to one’s entire gender identity but I can see where he’s coming from. In all reality, it’s more important than being accurate, it’s a start… he’s willing to actually try to wrap his head around it and he finds a parallel to his own existence. I can’t ask for much more.

“Thank you,” I offer, with a genuine smile. “I can see where you’re coming from and that means a lot.”

Steve grinned. “So… like, I have a question…”

Uh oh… what’s it going to be? “Are you going to have THE surgery?”, “Does it mean I’m gay if I like you?”, Do you still stand up to pee?”, or “Can you recite Cher songs from memory now?”

“Go… on?”

Steve looked a little self-conscious for a moment and seemed to hesitate. “Well, I wanted to ask… I mean… I was wondering…”

“Yeah?”

“Did any of the other chicks say they were like, into me or anything?”

The Jumbo’s engines roared, forcing us back into our seats as we began to accelerate down the runway. The nose pitched up and suddenly, we were climbing away from the ground like a rocket. I looked over at Steve’s expectant little face and rolled my eyes. “You know what, I must have missed that topic at the committee meeting.”

 

 

As the jet descended through the clouds high above the Sierra Nevada mountains, it gave me my first real glimpse of home in a little over a week. Returning felt a little strange, but at the same time, it felt liberating.

I wasn’t the same girl that left home last week, nor was I afraid of what was to come. No matter what, I would face it with my head held high and a smile on my face. Perhaps I really was a bit of a sadist; I kept putting myself in some spectacularly awful positions time and time again, despite my best efforts. What was life if not its challenges?

We descended lower and the engine note changed as the aircraft began to bank for its final approach. Down below it was already dark, but the homes and street lights lit up the landscape like an electric tapestry of civilization. It reminded me of the human body in many ways; the roads were the arteries, the headlights of traffic, the flowing blood traveling around to feed the towns and cities that formed its organs. As the landing gear clunked loudly into place, the hand of the earth reached up to take us into its arms.

We touched down on time at a little after seven in the evening, Pacific Daylight Time, as expected. It was a surreal experience to consider that we had left Germany at two in the afternoon and yet, fourteen hours had passed in the no-man’s land high above the clouds.

“Thanks,” I gave Steve a small smile as he handed me my backpack from the overhead as we waited to disembark. You know what airplanes are like; it takes ten times longer to get off than getting on board.

“Man, I’m so glad to be home,” he yawned, stretching dramatically.

“Feels like a lifetime,” I agree. “I’ll sleep tonight, that’s for sure.”

Steve gave me a funny look, “You’re not coming back to school on Monday, are you?”

I shook my head and grinned, “I have no idea.”

The queue of bodies began to finally move and we made our way towards the exit. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Auf Wiedersehen, Fräulein, Herr.”

I smiled at the flight attendants before looking back at Steve as we stepped onto American soil at long last. “If you think that I or anyone else has a plan, you’re sorely wrong. I’m flying by the seat of my pants.”

“You can come back to school if you want,” he grinned. “Would be a good change of scenery.”

I gave him an incredulous look and narrowed my eyes, “I don’t think I’d fit in that well anymore.”

“You still got that skirt from the other night, right?”

Yes, it is almost possible for your eyes to fall out if you roll them hard enough.

We traipsed along the hallways connecting the gates to the terminal proper before finally being disgorged into the customs and immigration hall. Now, TSA flying out was one thing, but actually entering the United States, one gets the distinct pleasure of dealing with Homeland Security’s Customs and Immigration officers.

If you think that TSA are annoying asshats, you’ve never had the pleasure of Homeland. These guys have zero sense of humor and almost unlimited power. You do not screw around with them, you do not joke, and you do not volunteer information unless asked. As you can imagine, I was a little apprehensive when I presented my passport at the counter.

The dour officer examined my passport and glanced back up at me, “Alexander Winters?”

Sigh, “Yes?”

“You’re Mister Alexander Winters?” he asked, almost incredulously.

I maintained my straight face and nodded, “Yes sir.”

The shaven-headed officer frowned and looked me over again. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen, sir.”

His eyebrows went up but he remained silent. I watched him regard my passport for a few seconds before looking me over a third time. He nodded slightly and stamped my passport before handing it back. “Welcome home.”

I took it and smiled, “thank you.”

To say that I felt a wave of relief as I cleared customs would be to understate matters just a little. I was home, and there was a real chance that this was one of the last times that I would ever need to officially identify myself as Alex Winters.

As we entered the baggage hall just beyond customs I spotted the girls waiting nervously to one side. When they spotted me, the nerves turned to grins.

“You made it! No problems?” Tina asked, giving me a hug.

“All clear, a bit of suspicion but he let me go without the rubber glove treatment.”

“I think we have time,” Chloe opined, checking her watch. “The bags are going to be at least another fifteen minutes.”

“For what?” I asked suspiciously. Rattus Rattus was once more pinging my shenanigans detector.

“No time, come with us,” she announced, grabbing me by the hand.

I was dragged by the girls into a bathroom just off the main baggage hall. “What are we doing? Does anyone want to tell me what’s going on?”

Tina leaned back against the sinks and spread her hands like a magician, “We couldn’t let you make your big return as Alex, could we? Now we’re through customs, you’re free to ditch him for good.”

I could feel my eyes watering, “You didn’t, did you?”

Sarah gave me a squeeze and nodded, “Yup, we all put stuff in our carry-on. We wanted to make sure when you came home to your family that you could do it as Holly.”

“I don’t deserve you guys,” I sniffed. “Thank you.”

“Less tears, more action,” Chloe declared, closing and latching the main door. “Get nekked, girl.”

I won’t bother you with all the nuance and particulars of my getting changed; we’ve been there before and changing in an airport bathroom isn’t exactly the high point of luxury. After ten minutes or so, we were done and Alex had been banished to the shadow realm for the final time.

I was wearing a baby blue cami and a white cardigan over a denim skirt with my sneakers and a couple of borrowed rings and bracelets from the others. My hair was down and brushed out, flowing around my shoulders and my makeup was subtle and cute. It was Holly Winters who strode proudly out to the baggage carousels with her friends.

Frau Whistler spotted us as we approached, her mouth opening as though she planned to chastise us for running off before she spotted me. Her frown turned into a smile instead. “Good of you to join us, girls, our bags should be next.”

“Sorry, had to leave someone behind,” I smiled.

“For the best, I think,” she agreed as the carousel whirred to life.

We walked along the corridor from baggage to arrivals with our luggage in tow. I hadn’t recalled my bag being this darn heavy when we came out here, but then, it was ram-packed with presents. To my left and my right, Chloe, Emma, Sarah and Tina were hauling their own bags, chatting happily amongst the group as we walked.

I was happy; this was the real me. This was the life I was meant to lead. Nobody was going to take this away from me, not now, not ever again. Alex’s time was over, and Holly’s was just kicking into high gear.

As we stepped out into the arrivals hall, my mind flashed back to only a few weeks prior, when I had been waiting on the far side of that very barrier to meet my sister for the first time as Holly. That moment had changed me, it had been a culmination of a healing process that I had needed more than I realized. Her love and acceptance had told me that it was ok to be me.

“Holly!”

I scanned the crowd, looking for the source of the voice. Suddenly, there they were at the end of the barrier; Mom, Dad, and Rob. I beamed happily as I ran over and launched myself into their arms.

“I’ve missed you guys so much,” I whimpered, squeezing them as hard as I could.

“We missed you too, kiddo,” Mom grinned, “Good trip?”

“It was something,” I admitted with a wry smile.

“Someone else wanted to come and see you land. I figured you might have missed him.”

They stepped to one side and there he was… Rick Taylor. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a school sweatshirt, his hair softly flopping to one side, his eyes full of warmth, and a lazy smile on his lips. “Hey,” he offered softly.

“Hey you,” I replied, walking up to him slowly. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he offered, shifting his weight nervously.

Dad rolled his eyes and sighed with exasperation. “For God’s sake boy, kiss her; I want to get out of here before Monday.”

I blushed and looked back at Rick. His eyes were focused solely on mine as we stood there, students and parents, passengers and employees flowing all around us. The world closed into just our little bubble, right there on the concourse.

Rick reached out and took me in his arms as he leaned down and gently kissed me on the lips. My world melted, stars exploded and my stomach clenched with happy little flutters. I’m pretty sure I popped a foot, but I couldn’t tell you for sure.

I pulled back to catch my breath and gazed longingly up at the boy I loved. My family was next to us, my friends not far away. Here I was, my true authentic self, seen, recognized, and loved. Holly Juliette Winters was here to stay, and not a single thing would ever change that. A little shard of ice that had dwelled within my heart since birth melted that day. A tiny fragment that had caused me untold pain and anguish ceased to exist.

In its place, lay room for hope to grow; a future in a world that I could call my own. Where once, the future only held darkness and pain, a mystery that my sadness could never hope to penetrate. Now, it held light and hope, potential and joy.

“You did it,” Rick rumbled softly. “I’m so freaking proud of you, Holly.”

I smiled and buffed my nails as I turned back toward the others. “‘Fake it till you make it’ has a new meaning in me.”

 

 

 

 

I suppose it’s customary when writing one of these things to summarise what transpired after the end of our story. Well, the first thing I can tell you is that this is far from the end. The end of the first book, perhaps, but not the end at all, my dear reader. No, you can join us very soon in the next installment of what happened in my dumpster fire of a transition.

This was a truly wild journey, and one that didn’t stop here. I suppose this semester of my Junior year was particularly memorable because it was such a chaotic mess. What kind of transgender girl spends so much effort on trying to be a boy only to do a 180 when visiting another continent? Yeah, this dumbass, that’s who. I’m sure that you and I both see just how moronic it all was, but that’s the benefit of twenty-twenty hindsight. At the time, it was a little more complicated.

What happened after we got home? Well, that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? I’m sure you want something so dramatic that it takes up another twenty chapters just to cover that final week of school. The truth, I’m afraid that it was far less exciting than you might have imagined. A surprise for sure, given the potential for epic fuckery that I have courted this entire journey.

To say that the school wasn’t best pleased with my inability to be a boy, was a slight understatement, but not an unexpected one. If you listened to Principal Veggie Garden, you would think I planned all of this chaos just to ruin his easy life.

With the original plan out of the window, it was down to a few remaining options. One; Put Alex back on, return to school, and pretend nothing had happened. Naturally, this was monumentally stupid and dismissed out of hand. One cannot simply shove the cat back into the bag once it has clawed its way free and sliced up your face for your trouble.

Option two was slightly more possible; attend school for the final week as Holly, cause a monumental distraction, ruin people’s finals, and generally cause more disruption than climate protesters glueing themselves to subway trains at rush hour. (Can you tell I’ve spent time living in New York?)

Option three was the decision it took them far too long to reach; I would attend school for my finals only, which I would take on my own in an unoccupied classroom on the same day and time as the other students. Otherwise, I would be at home studying and making myself useful where I couldn’t disrupt the other students with my evil transness.

I told you the outcome was boring, a little depressing, but extremely boring nonetheless. What? You thought they would give in and let me spend the final week with the girls? Don’t be daft, it’s not like they actually think I have feelings, is it?

While the chosen plan was not my personal favorite, it did at least provide the smoothest transition under the rather rocky circumstances. I wouldn’t have to face any of the boys in any regard, which saved me from the inevitable abuse I absolutely guaranteed would follow my return. On top of this, I got to complete my semester, get my grades, and move on with the intended timetable.

Other than not getting my ass kicked six ways to Sunday, the only other benefit of this plan was that they conceded to let me take my exams as Holly. Due to my legal name and records, I would still have to enter my name as Alex Winters, but it was a small price to pay. Bureaucracy huh? What a joy.

Anyway, enough talking. Do you want me to get into something juicy to make this epilogue worthwhile? Fine, have it your way…

 

 

 

 

Never let it be said that history teachers were not giggling sadists. Who exactly puts an entire long form essay question on the economic causes of the First World War, into a Junior history paper? Yup, they put that on our final because they hate their lives and want us to hate ours too. It’s a good job that I managed to find time to study in my busy life being an international girl of intrigue.

Doing finals on your own is quite a weird experience, but it’s certainly lacking in the usual exam distractions that niggle at all of us, whether it be scratching pens, coughs, goose-stepping invigilators; you know them all. Honestly, doing it on my own might have actually helped my grade.

Walking out into the corridor, I stretched and cracked my neck. Hunching over a desk for ninety minutes was monumentally exhausting. I reached into my bag, pulled out a bottle of soda, and relished in the sugary goodness for a moment while my brain defogged from mustaches, annexations, and brass bands.

“Alex?”

Fiddleshits, I know that voice… what fresh hell must I face now?”

“I uh…hi” Words escaped me as I turned and faced Andy, my barely bipedal buddy.

“You’ve been the subject of quite a few rumors and fanciful stories,” he offers with a sly smile. “I was beginning to believe that you really were turned into a wild temptress by an evil old witch in the Bavarian forests.”

“No witches, no Bavarian forests… I just uh… came out… I guess.”

Andy looked me up and down, “You certainly did.”

The way he looked at me didn’t feel like the other times that guys had looked me up and down. In those times, it made me feel like a cheap piece of meat. Andy’s look didn’t feel like that, it wasn’t sexual. If anything, it was more… amused.

“Something funny?”

Andy shrugged/. He walked across the corridor to a table that was holding some precarious-looking Freshman art project and leaned against it to take the weight off his leg. “There’s nothing funny about you, Alex. It’s more that I found it suddenly quite funny how obvious it all was.”

“I prefer Holly now, actually,” I offered, folding my arms across my chest. “What do you mean, obvious?”

“Oh, I had no idea beforehand, if that’s what you mean,” Andy grinned. “I never saw it coming at the time, but now? Now, it makes complete and utter sense.”

I narrow my eyes suspiciously, “and how is that, exactly?”

“Honestly? I think you’ve always been a girl,” he shrugs. “Now that I look back, you’ve never been anything at all like any of the boys. You’re insightful, emotional, sensitive, and kind. When you look past all the sadness and the whole Alex front you put up for others, there’s always been an inner lightness; someone happier, more gentle.”

Shit, who knew Hopalong had that much insight?

“Surprisingly accurate,” I concede.

“Want to talk about it?”

Huh, you know what? I actually did.

I checked my watch, a new little golden thing on a dainty strap on my wrist that Mom had bought for me while I was away. It was about twenty minutes before the lunch bell and the whole school would be full of screaming idiots. “You busy?”

“Not till after lunch,” he shrugged.

Andy and I made little more than small talk as we made our way out of the school building and out into the central quad. Unlike the spaces within both the Boys and Girls divisions that held more practical function, the central quad was intended more for visitors and decorative purposes to show off the school. To that end, it was a pretty peaceful place to have a heavy discussion during academic hours.

Finding a bench in a quiet corner, I sat myself down and waited for Andy to collect his thoughts.

“How come you didn’t tell me?”

Oof, guilt out of the gates? That one hurt.

“I didn’t tell anyone… not on purpose,” I offer, immediately cringing at how transparent it sounded. “My plan was to stick it out as Alex till college and then be me.”

“That went really poorly, didn’t it?”

“Not wrong,” I concede. “My goals… shifted. I had to try to keep this under wraps as best I could until I could transfer out. I knew that coming out earlier wouldn’t be good for me and well… Accidents happen.”

“To you, a great deal,” he chuckled.

Andy turned and faced me. His expression was clear and lacked any judgement at all. It was surprising for me, because honestly, I expected him to either be uncomfortable or feel slighted by my betrayal. Instead, he just looked calm and thoughtful. “What was it like?”

“Huh?”

“Pretending to be someone you’re not.”

I smile. It’s an expression born more out of the morbid comedy of the last semester than any real pleasure. “Complicated and painful. Isolating; mostly very very lonely.”

“This time last year when we broke up for the holidays, I was pretty sure you’d be dead before we got back in the spring.”

I cringe, “Jesus, that’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

Andy shrugged, “You were almost at rock bottom. I’ve been through depression; I recognize it. I saw someone that wasn’t going to last much longer. When you came back, you were different. It was subtle; nothing had overtly changed, but there was a peace that came only from finding an answer.”

“When did you get to be so sage?” I frown. “But you’ve always been, haven’t you?”

Andy smiles. It’s a very humble expression on his face because he’s always been this lovely and unassuming guy. Despite his challenges in life, he’s always been a deeply thoughtful human bean.

“I’m really sorry,” I offer, “I should have told you what was happening but I was terrified; afraid to say a word to anyone in case I get packed off to a convent or some military school.”

Andy chuckled, “Convent? You really are a girl, dumbass.”

I waved a hand dismissively, “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” he nods. “I saw you get happier and I saw you build a wall around yourself too. When you guys got back from the trip and the news broke, it all suddenly clicked; everything about you from your behavior, temperament, the depression, and the physical changes. Suddenly, it was absolutely clear that my best friend had been a girl the entire time.”

Oh god, my heart.

“Your best friend?” I whimpered.

Andy made a dismissive gesture and shrugged, “I know I’m no ‘bff’ and that you’ve got other friends now… even a boyfriend,” he added with a sly smile. “But I want you to know that you’re my best friend.”

“I should have been better,” I sigh.

“You had a lot going on, hell; more going on than anyone ever reasonably should. The fact that you still made time for me, made my life so much better. With you here, I could come to school and not feel like the cripple loner that nobody liked. You treated me like a human being and an equal. That means even more now I know how much you were suffering.”

Andy scooched over on the bench and opened his arms, the offer clear. Without pause, I reached over and hugged him fiercely as tears began to flow. I had never hugged Andy before in my life, but in that moment, it felt utterly right and way too long coming.

“I’m glad that you’re finally who you’re meant to be Holly, because you let me feel confident enough to be myself. You gave me that strength and that courage by standing beside me. Now it’s my turn to stand beside you.”

I leaned back from the hug and sniffed, dabbing with futility at my ruined mascara that was making me look like a demented raccoon, “I don’t deserve you.”

Andy smirked and shook his head in the same way he always did; the way that suggested he knew far more than he was letting on. “No, Rapunzel, you really don’t.”

 

 

Dear reader, this marks the end of Fake It Till You Make It. Thank you so much for joining me on this journey, I've had as much fun as you have! While this isn't a true story, it contains a lot more truth than fiction. I had a blast trying something funnier and more entertaining and it was a real diversion to do a straight-up 'trans' story rather than throwing it into a thriller like usual.

As I said in the blog post, there are one or two shorts to come soon (Not next week) but soon enough before Don't Fuck It Up begins and... oh gosh, the chaos continues.

Until then!

 

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