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Part 1
 
 
It was the second worst day of my life. The first being when I, a ten year old, Casidhe O'Connor and my parents were exiting the American Embassy in London after replacing our stolen passports. That wasn't the bad part. It was the suicide bomber that chose that moment to explode himself close enough to my parents to make identification a distinct improbability. Luckily, depending on who you talk to, I was trailing far enough behind them to be thrown clear of the majority of the blast, suffering only non-life-threatening wounds.

Don't you love that specific choice of words? Non-life-threatening.

I was sent to live with my only surviving relative in existence, my grandfather. Don't get me wrong. Gramps is a great guy, for being seventy-two years old. Yeah, Dad was born when Gramps was in his late forties and I wasn't born until much much later. So, basically we had nothing in common. He raised me for the following five years under his often quoted credo, don't raise a child, raise an adult.

This basically meant, once I was healed of my injuries, that I did everything. I learned how to shop for groceries, cook the meals, balance the checkbook, arrange for repair services when something broke, pay bills. You get the idea. I had adulthood thrust upon me at eleven years of age. What was his reasoning, you may ask? Well, Gramps was seventy-two years old and I had no other relatives, remember?

Ever since I moved in with him he planned for his eventual death and my following emancipation, just in case. He wouldn't have me living in foster care being raised by people that had no clue about the family, as small as it was.

He went so far as to put all of his assets into both of our names to reduce the amount of probate that I'd have to go through. Have you ever wondered what it's like to be fifteen years old and actually have access to millions? Yeah.

Gramps was a doctor. Well, not a practicing doctor. His hands had been too shaky for the last ten years. You really can't be a neurosurgeon with shaky hands. Well, I guess you can be, but you really can't be a successful neurosurgeon with shaky hands. They tend to frown upon that.

That led me to today. Gramps' funeral. In case you're wondering, it was a burst aneurism in his head. One moment he was bending over, picking up a fork he had dropped in the kitchen while he was frying chicken for our lunch. The next, he was dead. It was that quick. I was chopping up lettuce for the salad when I heard him say his last word, "Casidhe…" That was it. Plop, dead Gramps.

The chicken got burned.

All of his friends and business colleagues were there, at the funeral home. Gramps was in his Charcoal Grey, two button, Men's Warehouse suit. His wedding ring was still on his finger, even ten years after Grandma died. Maybe his hands had swollen up so much that he wasn't able to take it off. Maybe he just loved her so much that he thought it disrespectful.

It's really weird what you think about when the last person in the world that loved you was dead. I couldn't stop thinking about the damn ring. I mean, is there some sort of protocol for this type of thing? He wasn't married anymore, so why keep wearing it? Was he just hanging on to memories?

I learned five years ago not to hang on to memories. Gramps had gone to my parents house, had my room packed and told me I could keep two boxes of anything else I wanted in the house. Everything else would be sold at an estate sale. "The past is the past, Casidhe. Leave it there and move on."

What kind of shit is that to tell a ten year old when he watched his parents die fifteen feet in front of him? Two boxes.

I kept a hand full of pictures, Mom's jewelry, Dad's pistol, the fireproof box that was found under their bed, various knickknacks, a couple of books, and the family computer. That's it. I remember being numb for a month after.

Gramps had me go down to the bank with him and open up a checking and savings account with the cashier's check from the sale of the house and its contents. We split some of it up into various stocks. It was supposed to teach me the value of money and how to support myself.

Ten years old.

Since Gramps was retired, and apparently had absolutely nothing to do other than torture me, he decided I was to be home-schooled. He's smart, I'll give him that. He went out and bought all the materials and never let me slack off in the slightest. It was his opinion that we needed to devote ourselves to a goal and eventually we would get past our grieving easier. He told me that my goal was to study.

He pushed me, from morning to night, with books, tests, on the spot quizzes wherever we were. He taught me practical things, life lessons. We traveled and learned about the actual way things happened. For Politics, we went to Washington D.C. and stayed there for a few months until I understood how and why things worked. For History, we went to Gettysburg, Pearl Harbor, Liberty Island, Philadelphia and the like. For Biology we went to the CDC, Johns Hopkins. You get the idea. We never stayed anywhere for more than a few months. That is until Gramps was in too much pain caused by rheumatoid arthritis to sleep in anything other than his own bed.

I still did my lessons, but it was mostly through text books and so forth.

Then he died.

Right, back to the funeral. Since I was the only family, I sat alone in the front pew in my slacks, white dress shirt, and tie as I watched people that I barely knew pay their respects, which amounted to walking up to Gramps, looking at him and walking away. Some people that knew him stopped and shook my hand, passing out weak platitudes and offers of help, if I needed it.

Our lawyer, or should I say, my lawyer, Sam Sebastian, even took time out to sit beside me.

"How you holding up, Casidhe?"

I reached up and loosened my tie. "Fine."

He shuffled a little bit, with obvious discomfort. "If you have the time, later this week, I want you to come by the office so we can finalize the paperwork."

Closing my eyes, I sighed. "Can we do it now?"

"I didn't bring it with me, Cas."

I shook my head. "No, I mean can we leave now and go do this thing?"

Turning my head, I caught sight of his jaw loosening and his eyebrows raising a little. "You don't want to go to the burial?"

I shook my head. "No, Gramps' advice was, the past is the past." Standing up, I put my hands in my pockets. "Besides, I don't have my driver's license yet, so this will save me cab fair."

Cold bitch, ain't I?

~O~

We wove our way out to the parking lot and hopped into his Mercedes. I only had to shake another five hands on the way out. The offers of help were ignored. After all, Gramps taught me to be self-sufficient. I didn't need anyone anymore.

"The will is pretty straight forward." Sam explained. "Almost everything was in both your names so you have access to all monies, and stock. The house is yours, as well as the cars." He walked around to the large bookshelf and did something which made two stacks shift to the side revealing a large flatscreen and an entertainment center. "Your Grandfather made this video for you."

I looked up at Sam and felt a knot in my throat tighten and my eyes burn. "Wha…?"

Sam nodded. "About every three months or so he'd send me an updated disc. It's supposed to be a private message to you. Nothing legal, so I've never seen it." He dropped the disc in the DVD player and walked over to hand me the remote. "My instructions are to leave you in private."

A sad, pitying look overcame his face. "I'll be in the library next door getting everything ready for you." He casually pointed to a door on the opposite wall. "Just come on in when you are through. The disc is yours. Just hit eject, and the case is on top of the player."

I waited until I heard the click of the door closing until I hit play.

There were no FBI warnings or menus, just the start of the recording. Gramps was in his office, seated behind his desk. He had a snifter of Brandy beside him and a remote in one hand, which he set down. After taking a quick sip of his Brandy he smiled at the camera.

"Casidhe, the time's come, eh." He set the snifter aside and crossed his hands. "I'm sorry that we didn't have more time together. I had so much more to teach you." He looked down and then back up. "But that's pretty much all we did, right?"

I leaned forward in the chair and ran a hand quickly across my face.

"I'm also sorry I wasn't a better grandpa to you. I was so worried that I was going to go sooner than I was ready, that I never really had a chance to be what you needed." He paused for a moment. "But that's in the past, right? For now you have to look toward the future. You know where everything is. I've held nothing back from you. You'll be well provided for. So the only thing I have left to tell is strictly on a personal level."

He slid his hand underneath the snifter and swirled the brandy around a couple of times before taking another sip.

"I want to make a suggestion. You are, of course, free to ignore me. It is your life and your decision. My suggestion is this. Go sign yourself up in high school."

I almost laughed, in fact a snort escaped my mouth before he continued.

"I know you are intelligent enough to pass your High School Equivalency. That's not the point."

After taking another sip he looked back at the camera. "I've monopolized your time, Casidhe. You've had virtually no contact with children your own age since your parents were killed, and that's my fault. I wanted you close to me so that I could protect you and teach you everything I know so you could keep yourself safe after I was gone."

I tried, unsuccessfully, to swallow that lump away in my throat.

"You need friends, Casidhe. You need to have fun. Maybe a girlfriend, or whatever." At this point his face crinkled in a rarely seen smile. "I know you have secrets. No need in denying it. We all have secrets. I just want to thank you for keeping yours to yourself and behind closed doors away from this old conservative fart. But now it's the time to maybe see what there is to see, if you know what I mean."

Yep, my jaw dropped. I stopped breathing for a few seconds thinking quickly on what he said.

"I love you Casidhe. Never doubt that for a second. Ever. I have been and will be proud of you no matter what you choose to do with your life."

Gramps leaned back in his chair, with a somewhat dreamy look on his face. He swallowed the last of the Brandy and set the snifter aside.

"Sam has a couple of things to give you that might help you along your way. You can trust him." He laughed to himself. "As long as he gets paid. I've left him with a sizable retainer to make sure you don't have any trouble, whatever the reason. So go to him with any legal problems you might have. The rest of what you might want to know is in the package he has."

He leaned forward and his face turned serious. "I have to go now. No need dwelling around here listening to me ramble on. Go to school, Casidhe. You'll hate it, but you'll love it more, and be true to yourself in all things."

I watched as he picked up the remote and looked at the camera one last time, leaving me with a playful wink.

~O~

Secrets, yeah.

~O~

The paperwork was filed and I stood in front of a judge with Sam beside me as we argued for my emancipation three months before it was actually legal to do so. Sam was good. I was free. I was declared an adult for matters of finance, education, and care. I still couldn't legally drink or go to porno shops, but I never really had an inclination for either.

What I was able to do was register for the latter half of my sophomore year in High School, all by my lonesome.

Yeah, I took Gramps' advice. He was always right anyway. Why try to fight it?

See, the thing about school? I basically could do it the way I wanted. I tested out and could have been placed in the senior class, but I wasn't going to school for educational reasons.

I had to play by their rules, yes. I mean I couldn't just go in there and sit a class then get up and walk out whenever I wanted. I was able to take a the general core classes, skip Gym class in favor of study hall, and work on whatever I wanted.

This left me with many options.

School started January 7th , only two weeks away and I was going to make sure that I got the most out of this new experience.
 
 
Part 2
 
 
A loud two-tone sounded throughout the school when I opened the front door and entered Hildegarde Desmond Senior High School. The few students I noticed in the hallway rushed to be a few seconds tardy to their first class of the new semester while I proceeded a few paces to the school offices across the way.

"May I help you?"

I nodded to the blonde thirty-something lady behind the counter. "I'm Casidhe O'Connor. This is my first day and I need to get a printout of my schedule, and maybe someone to point the way to my first class."

The lady gave me a bright smile. "Well, welcome to Desmond High!"

My eyes widened a little at her exuberance. "Um, thanks."

She pulled her keyboard out and clacked away at the keys for a second, then frowned. "I'm not pulling you up. Could you spell out your name?"

I blinked then smiled. "Sorry, it's not the traditional spelling. It's Gaelic." I spelled out my name for her and received a brilliant smile in return.

"Thanks… ah, here we go." After a few more clicks I heard the printer start to warm up. "Let me grab one of the student aides to take you to your first class and I'm sure someone from there would be more than happy to show you around."

I nodded. "Sure, thanks."

She disappeared for a moment and then returned with a girl in tow. "Casidhe this is Lisa. Lisa would you be a dear and show Casidhe to her first class. It's Mr. Walsh in 402."

My face heated up in response to the lady's choice of pronouns. I really hate blushing. Redheads are known for their pale skin and I was no different. When we got out into the hallway I stopped Lisa.

"Uh, sorry, but she was wrong. I'm not a girl."

Lisa looked me up and down and then took a look at my purple backpack. It was weird because she was taller than me, obviously a Junior or a Senior. A wry smile appeared on her lips and then a chuckle escaped.

"Well, Casidhe, you might want to consider cutting your hair a little more like a guy, or at the very least dumping the lavender backpack until puberty kicks in."

My face continued its journey into untold amounts of red. I set the insult of my lack of manliness aside. "It's purple."

That brought forth a louder laugh from her. She grabbed my arm and pulled me to the other side of the hall where a big falcon, obviously their school mascot, was painted on the wall. It was encircled with the school colors, purple and gold. That was the reason I bought the purple backpack, to fit in, be all supportive of the home team and all of that stuff.

"See this? This is purple," she said with a condescending tone. She grabbed my backpack and held it up to the wall next to the falcon. "And this is a much lighter shade. It's called lavender."

My eyes darted back and forth between the colors and then a pathetic groan issued forth. "Crap."

"You would have been better off buying a gold one. Gold is the color the girls buy, and purple is for the guys. Lavender… well that's either for a girl or it means you're gay." She was having far too much fun at my expense. "If you say you're not a girl, well, I guess we know where that puts you."

I grabbed my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. "Can you show me where I'm supposed to go, please?"

We trekked down the hall and up a flight of stairs then down another hall to the back of the school while Lisa drove home the way the school works.

"Each morning you go to homeroom. It's thirty minutes long. That's where they pass out announcements and send you home if you aren't dressed properly, blah, blah, blah. There are maps at the end of every hallway so you can find your rooms. It's easier to ask someone where it is, 'cause the senior boys like to screw around with the maps." She shook her head vacantly. "I have no idea why.

She flung a hand out in direction. "Here's the restroom that's closest to your homeroom."

I looked at the skirted icon on the door. "That's the girls room."

She snickered. I swear. Who snickers?

"Sorry, my mistake."

Great. Well that only took, what, five minutes, and I'm already the brunt of high school humor.

We continued down the hall where she stopped and opened up the door. She indicated for me to wait while she talked to the teacher. I stood there like the new geek while every eye in the room checked me out. Lisa had a few words with Mr. Walsh and he nodded along. The torture of being scanned by everyone built up and I turned my head to the whiteboard on the wall to see… anything.

Lisa broke away and passed me up. "Have a great day."

"Everyone," Mr. Walsh started. "We have a new girl joining us at Desmond for the rest of the year. Her name is Casidhe O'Connor and I want you to make sure you make her welcome."

Dear God, please, someone just shoot me.

Mr. Walsh looked down at my schedule that Lisa had given him. "Does anyone have Ms. Sullivan for English first period?"

A few hands raised and Mr. Walsh picked a girl in the back. "Chloe, would you be so good as to escort Miss O'Connor to her first class after we are though here?"

She nodded. "Sure thing, Mr. Walsh."

She smiled at me and waved me over, pointing to an empty seat to her right. As I passed the teacher's desk he stopped me. "Care to tell a little about yourself, Casidhe? Let us get to know you a little better?"

I've read about this. The age honored ritual embarrassment of the new kid by making him stand in front of a class of people that could really care less about anything he has to say.

"Um, not really."

Mr. Walsh laughed. "Come on, we all do it at the beginning of the school year and it wouldn't be fair to the rest of the class if you didn't participate."

My eyes fluttered in mild exasperation and I could feel my face heating up again. Fine.

"My name is Casidhe, and I've been home schooled for the last five years because my parents were killed by a suicide bomber in England. I've lived with my Gramps since then and he just died last month. So, here I am."

I hate high school so much, right now.

The silence was overwhelming. I heard a pen drop somewhere to my left and stared out into the classroom at the shocked looks, the open mouths, and wide eyes of my fellow students.

"Uh," Mr. Walsh started.

"Why don't I just go sit down, yeah?"

He nodded. I heard a couple of snickers from the side as I walked down the aisle between the various desks and sat down next to Chloe. The students resumed whispering, at a low rumble, while Mr. Walsh fiddled with some papers on his desk. It was obvious he was embarrassed about what he pretty much made me reveal. Good.

That was when I noticed a hand hovering to my left. I tilted my head and saw it was attached to the blonde girl that was going to escort me to English.

"Hi, I'm Chloe."

Hey guys, have you ever gone to shake someone's hand and get a weird grip? Maybe the other person grabbed too quick or you grabbed too quick and you wind up giving a really gay handshake? Yeah, that's me.

She gave me a really big smile. "That was, by far, the coolest thing I have ever seen."

I cocked an eyebrow at her. "Well I'm glad my family's deaths have given you a happy today."

She swatted at me. "Oh, don't be stupid. You know that's not what I meant."

I shrugged.

"Maybe he'll stop that stupid getting to know everyone thing now. I swear, nobody cares."

"Exactly!"

She eyed my clothes and my backpack and leaned over to whisper. "Are you a lesbian or something? I mean, it's cool if you are…"

Before I could cut her idiocy off we were interrupted my Mr. Walsh.

"Okay, everyone. Settle down." He walked over to the row of seats closest to the door and started handing out stacks of papers. "Everyone take one and pass it down." As he worked his way across, he explained the handout. "These are your community service forms for the Spring semester. It is, as always, voluntary. But keep in mind that you'll start college admissions at the end of next year and its always good to have some padding with your application. Feel free to pick one or two, and remember that you'll have homework so don't go more than two, especially if you plan on taking on a job when the majority of you turn sixteen."

I ignored the rest. I mean how would you feel if you were introduced as a girl when you were obviously a boy. I was more distracted with how I was going to let everyone know I was a guy without looking like a total dork. And if it's the last thing I do, I was getting even with little Miss Lisa for her stupid prank.

I know I'm short, but there's a perfectly good reason behind that, which I'll get into later. My hair is not that long. It just reaches to my shoulders, the reason being that I have ears that stick out like freaking Dumbo, and I like having them covered up. I just wish that I didn't have the glowing carrot top orange as a particular color. At least I don't have mounds of freckles.

Gramps, being a doctor, was always conscious of having me out in the sun for too long a period of time, and if I had to be outside I was always covered in sunscreen. So, on top of being a human tangerine, I have pale white skin.

By the time I got through with my self-loathing, a single bell tone sounded and we were dismissed. I shoved the handout in my… lavender, backpack. God, I hate this.

"Come on," Chloe said. "Our class is on the other side of the school and I have to stop by my locker."

I slung my backpack over my shoulder and followed her out of the classroom and down the hall. One of her friends sidled up beside her and purposely bumped her into me.

"Tell me you got Dean's number the other night."

Chloe laughed. "Score!"

"Excellent!"

They high-fived each other.

"So who's Ellen over there?"

"Susan, don't be a bitch," she scolded her friend in a teasing manner. "This is Casidhe. She's new."

I swear, if I can't find a way to tell everyone that I'm a guy, with the tiny caveat of not looking like a dork, I'm screwed.

Susan held out her hand and right when I was about to grab it I was bumped slightly by a guy walking the other way. Yes, I wound up giving her limp gay hand.

"Anyway, I have to go. I'm in Biology this period." She took off to the left, down another hallway and turned around. "Nice to meet you, Casidhe. Maybe we can go shopping later."

I gave her a weak wave, as I wasn't really agreeing and we were being eyed by a lot of the guys and girls in the hall. No, changing everyone's misconception of me is not going to be easy.

We spent the next five minutes making our way downstairs and to Chloe's locker.

"Have they assigned you one yet?"

"Hmm?" I said in response, as I was still distracted.

"A locker, do you have a locker yet."

I shook my head no. She frowned.

"Maybe Miss Sullivan will let us out early so we can stop buy the office and get you one." She closed the door and spun the dial. "I know the one on the end down here is free. Steve Thompson was busted by the drug dogs before Christmas and he's not coming back."

I tuned her out and worked on my problem before we reached class. But it wasn't long before we entered the room and more unfamiliar eyes were on me. Chloe linked her arm in mine and dragged me over to the back of the room to the two remaining seats that were next to each other.

And so it went on for two more hours. Chloe and I split up for our next class, History. Two different teachers. But we wound up meeting up for Biology in the same class. Gratefully, lunch was next. I was starved from running around the gigantic school all day.

We did the lunch line thing and I had some sort of meat substance which the lady in the massive white hairnet called chicken fried steak. It was covered in a watery peppered gravy. The mashed potatoes actually looked like mashed potatoes, and I declined the three bean salad. I think I was going to be sick after seeing it. Luckily the school served sodas.

We wolfed our meals down and as we finished dropping off our trays the first bell rang for the next class.

"Damn, I need to go to the girls room."

"I'm sure there's one on the way to class," I joked.

On the way to Trigonometry class we finally made a pit stop. I leaned up against the wall and Chloe gave me a weird look. "You aren't coming in with me?"

"I can wait here."

She shook her head. "Don't be stupid." She hooked her arm in mine and pulled. "I need someone to talk to. "

Is this a female necessity? Can girls not physically urinate without other girls there? I mean what do they do at home if they're alone? Hold it, until their mom comes home, and then maybe they fight over who gets to go first because they both have been holding it for so long? What the hell?

I grit my teeth and entered no man's land. After a quick scan I realized that it was a guys room without urinals. There was still water splashed on the sink counters and paper towels all around the trashcan, on the floor. Apparently girls were just as messy as guys, well without the pee on the floor underneath the urinals. Yes, I know. I gross myself out at times.

Chloe entered a stall and I busied my self at the sink turning the water on and washing my hands, as I didn't have anything else to occupy my time.

"So, you never said. Are you a lesbian or what?"

I closed my eyes and shook my head in disbelief. "No, I'm not a lesbian." I'm not much of anything to tell the truth.

"So, what's up with the boy look?" After a second she continued so I didn't have to. "Oh my God. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. You were raised by your grandpa."

Sounded like a good excuse to me. "Yeah."

The sound of a toilet flushing filled the tile encased room and she was out and to the sink before I knew it. "Sorry, I don't think sometimes."

I shrugged it off. No need in making her feel bad for something she had no control over. "It's no big."

We let it lay as she dried her hands and then we took off to Trig class. About halfway through class when the teacher was scribbling on the white board I felt a tap on my shoulder. When I looked back I saw a folded piece of paper Chloe was passing me.

Maybe we can go shopping after school.

I checked to make sure the teacher was still busy and I turned around. She held a face that was half, I'm sorry, and half, you really look like a lesbian and I'm trying to help out.

I turned back around. Oh what the hell. It's going to come out sooner or later.

I'm a guy. Lisa lied to Mr. Walsh. I'm sorry for not saying something sooner, but I didn't know how without looking like a dork.

I folded the paper back and waited until the coast was clear before passing it back. After a few seconds I heard a sharp intake of breath from behind me.

A couple of minutes passed and I sat there with my face burning in embarrassment. Another tap later and I reached behind to get her response.

Bullshit, Cassidy. If you don't want to go shopping that's fine, but don't lie to me.

I sighed and my shoulders dropped. Spreading out the paper I tried again.

No bullshit. And my name is spelled, Casidhe. I'm not lying. There's a reason I look the way I do. I don't want to go into it in class. I don't want anyone to know, but if you absolutely have to know then I'll tell you after school.

Folding the paper back up I handed it back.

I never got a response. Chloe almost bolted out of the classroom after the bell sounded. I sighed again. Must be a new land speed record of making and losing my only friend in less than a single school day.

~O~

Study Hall and Spanish class were just long enough to make me exceedingly nervous once the final bell rang. I hadn't seen Chloe since Trig. So I hurried down the hall as fast as I could to meet up with her at our lockers.

Yes, the locker on the end was free, and yes, Ms. Sullivan did let us out of English ten minutes early to get it assigned to me. So, there you go.

When I got there it was obvious Chloe hadn't made it by, so I took my time dialing in my combination. When I opened the door a piece of paper fell to the floor.

Meet me by the flag pole.

It was in Chloe's handwriting so, mystery solved there. I grabbed the two textbooks I needed and shut the door. Stuffing them in my backpack I made my way through the crowd of exiting students to the front of the school.

The flagpole was maybe about fifty feet away from the front doors amid a raised brick planter separating the walkway into two paths out to the parking lot. Chloe was seated on the bricks talking on her cell phone. When she saw me she wrapped up with whoever she was talking to and stood.

I really couldn't gauge her mood except to say she looked expectant.

"Hey."

She picked up her gold backpack and nodded toward the parking lot. "I figured you wouldn't want to do this here."

I shook my head in response. "Would you mind if we did this at my house. It'll make it easier to explain."

I saw the doubt on her face. "I don't live that far away and I can drive you home after."

That's when her face lit up in disbelief.

"You can drive!?"

I let a small smirk escape from my lips. "Yeah, I have a hardship license. I can't drive past eight unless it's to work or back… and a couple of other restrictions, but…" I shrugged. "Come on. My car's out there."

We dodged a few Senior guys roughhousing on their way out and made our way through the rows of cars almost to the street when I pulled my keys out of my backpack and unlocked the doors to my sunflower yellow VW Beetle.

"Oh my God, this is so cool." Breathed Chloe as she slipped by me to the passenger side. "How did you get away with this?"

I rolled my eyes. Apparently she wasn't thinking again.

"Dead parents, dead Gramps."

Her hand shot to her mouth and she cringed. "Sorry."

I shrugged and we hopped into the car. After starting my baby up I let the engine warm up while I gave her the start of my semi-planned speech that I worked up in Study Hall.

"We were in England, doing the sights. I was ten."

"Casidhe, we don't have to do this here. I can wait."

Checking to make sure the way was clear, I put the car in gear and pulled out. "It's not a big deal. It was five years ago. I'm over it."

It only took a few minutes to navigate the exodus of teens to the street. "Anyway, Mom kept all of our passports in her purse and it got swiped when we stopped to take a picture in front of Big Ben."

Taking a right at the end of the street I proceeded down the main street of the neighborhood. "We went to the American Embassy to get some temporary visas so we could actually get back to the States.

"I remember standing by the front doors, waiting for my parents to finish. I was reading a tourist posting and they said it was time to go. I wanted to finish the posting. I mean it was about some of the not-so-seen sights to see, yanno?"

Chloe nodded out of the corner of my eye.

"I heard my dad yell for me, and I went to catch up. The front doors to the embassy were open and I had just crossed out when I saw them waiting for me."

Making another turn I accelerated up to the speed limit and then slowed as I turned into the driveway of my house. I clicked the garage door opener and pulled into the center space. After putting the car into park I killed the engine and pulled the keys.

"That was the last thing I remember about them." I took in a sharp breath and let it out. "Mom had an exasperated look on her face and Dad was shaking his head at me for holding them up. Then… they were gone."

I didn't waste any time. Opening my door I alit from the car and wiped my eyes at the same time so Chloe wouldn't see me tearing up. She got out and I closed the garage door while I opened up the connecting door to the house.

It led to the kitchen where I tossed my backpack on the breakfast table and made my way to the fridge. "You want anything to drink. I got pretty much everything."

"Casidhe, I'm sorry."

Chloe sounded truly apologetic. Really. But since I had had more than enough people giving me platitudes over the last month I was already sick of it. So I ignored her.

"Drink?"

She gave me a slightly disappointed smile. "Anything diet is fine."

I looked back in the fridge and pulled out a diet and a regular Coke. Setting the cans aside I grabbed a couple of glasses and filled them with ice, motioned to the island in the middle of the kitchen and the stools. We sat and made busy work by popping the cans and filling our glasses.

I was putting off the next part of the conversation as long as I could and I got up and reached into the fridge for some queso I had made up the previous night. A couple of minutes in the microwave and it was heated up. It went into the center of a serving dish and I surrounded the outside with tortilla chips before setting it on the island for us.

"Wow, thanks. It's all restauranty and stuff."

That made me smile. "Gramps never let me do anything by half. Either do it right or don't do it at all. He used to say that to me. He was full of sayings like that."

She grabbed a chip and dipped it, letting the bulk of the cheese run off, she shoved it in her mouth. Her eyes lit up and a happy grin took over. After swallowing she took a sip of her drink.

"That is so good. What brand is it?"

I shook my head. "Home made."

Her eyes went wide. "You made this?"

I nodded. Then it kicked in. She grabbed her drink again and took two big swallows.

"Oh my God, it's hot!"

That brought out a laugh from me. "Be careful. It's spicy."

She gave me the evil eyes. "Thanks for the warning, bitch."

My smile stayed on, and then I realized that was the first time I had actually laughed in -- forever. Pulling out the chair, I sat down and grabbed a chip full of cheesy goodness for myself. Chloe grabbed a napkin from the caddy and dabbed at her eyes before grabbing another chip.

I gave her a wary eye and she tossed the look aside.

"I didn't say it wasn't good."

Another laugh bubbled up from inside me. Holy crap, two in one day.

She crunched for a second and took another sip from her glass. "So what does this have to do with you looking the way you do?"

Back to the subject at hand, I guess.

"I… I was injured in the explosion."

Confusion filled her face.

Breathing out in resignation I revealed the rest. "The suicide bomber was loaded down with ball bearings, nails, and anything else that would kill anyone within range." After another sip of Coke I set it down. "I got hit in my arm, chest, legs, and other places."

Chloe still didn't have a clue. I rolled my eyes and said in an even tone. "I don't have my testicles anymore."

"Oh."

Wanting desperately to move on I continued. "The doctors were able to take everything out. I've had plastic surgery to remove most of the scars, but they couldn't really do anything about saving those."

"I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "Why, there's nothing you, or anyone, for that matter could have done about it."

"Still."

I shrugged. "It's no big. I'm better off anyway."

At that, her eyebrows raised.

"Never mind."

She saw my discomfort. "Thank you, for telling me, I mean. I know that couldn't have been easy."

I shrugged and took another chip.

"So what are we gonna do about tomorrow?"

"What do you mean?"

She waved her hand at me a little. "Everyone already thinks you're a girl." She shook her head at me. "And there's no way you're going to get out of that one without being pounded."

I paused mid-crunch. "Pounded?"

She nodded. "Football jocks, heck, even other girls won't like that you pulled this off…"

"But Lisa…" I started.

"Doesn't matter. You put it off for too long. Your one and only chance to put it right was in homeroom this morning when it happened." She pushed her chair out and stood. "You went into the girls bathroom with me."

"You dragged me in there!"

"Doesn't matter. You're toast if you go back and say you're a guy."

"I am a guy!"

She ignored me and looked around the kitchen. "When do your guardians show up?"

Letting my ire bleed away a little I explained. "I'm emancipated."

Chloe gave me a questioning look.

"I live by myself."

"No way!"

"Way."

Almost in denial she continued. "How do you support yourself?"

I rolled my eyes once more. "Dead parents, dead Gramps. Lots of insurance money. Well that and Gramps was loaded."

"You're rich?"

I nodded. She walked around the kitchen in thought for a few moments before exiting though the swinging door into the den. I followed to see what she was up too.

"You have a really nice house."

"Thanks, I guess. I really… I mean it's… it was Gramps' house."

She fingered things around the den, books, knickknacks, and other things. "I have an idea that we might be able to pull off." She shrugged to herself. "Well, we can definitely pull it off. The ground works already been laid. It's really just up to you."

Now that got my attention. I'd do almost anything to set things straight. "What do I have to do?"

She turned to me and smiled. "Just be a girl."

I admit it. I stood there in disbelief for a good minute. Do you know how long a minute lasts when two people are staring at each other? Forever.

"No, really."

She held up her hands in a placating gesture. "Hear me out. It wouldn't be that hard. I mean it's not like you're going to go through puberty or anything."

My eyes narrowed. "Thanks."

Waving me off she continued. "That's not how I meant it. Look, everyone already thinks you're a girl. You aren't going to be sprouting hair and growing muscles or anything."

With each little thing she said I turned redder and redder.

"You're short, heck, I'm taller than you are and I'm five-five. You can obviously afford a new wardrobe. Let's go shopping and pick up a few things, try it out here, and if you don’t think we can pull it off then we'll think of something else."

Totally deflated I stood there with my shoulders drooped in defeat. "I could always quit school."

"What?" she said in shock.

"I could pass my G.E.D. tomorrow. I'm only going to school because Gramps wanted me to get to know kids my own age."

"And what, you'll go to some other school?"

I shook my head. "I'll just quit. It's not worth it."

"Are you stupid?"

I gave her a glare. "No, I'm very smart, actually."

"Could of fooled me." She waited a couple of beats. "It sound's like your Gramps was a smart man. You're too young to go to college. You'll run into the same problem there. What are you gonna do, sit around for a few years and play video games or something?"

She pressed on. "This way you can do the High School thing and have some fun. Maybe keep yourself busy, get some friends until you figure out what you want to do. Come on, Casidhe. Just try it out and if you don't think you can pull it off then…"

I turned around before she finished. "Why couldn't we have just stayed home?"

"What?"

I cleared my throat. "My stupid parents. Why couldn't we have just stayed home. Now I can't even be a guy right."

She gave me a moment to compose myself, and then I felt her hand take mine. Her fingers were cool when she laced them with mine. "Come on, Cas. Lets go to the mall."

~O~

Yes, I've been to the mall dozens of times, but I've never really realized exactly how many stores girls had to choose from. Dozens. And that's not including the high end department stores that Chloe informed me were off limits for our purposes. At least for that moment.

"She paused at one of the cross-sections, and looked both ways. "I think we might want to do your hair first, to get you in the right frame of mind."

I resigned myself to follow her lead. Remembering Gramps' words in my head, Either do it right, or don't do it at all. It was my choice. If I looked like a total dork then I'd just drop out. It was that simple, in my mind.

"Lead on."

She gave me a curious smile at my acceptance. Talking my arm and looping it with hers we were off to Visible Changes, the only decent salon in the mall. I've had my hair cut there. No, it's not just a girl's place.

Luckily, according to Chloe, a Style Director was available. Apparently there are a number of different type of stylists. The SD's were the most experienced and supposedly the best at what they do. And yes, you pay for it.

Chloe went along with me to get my hair washed and conditioned then to the chair as I waited in my black smock.

"Hi, girls," a tall brunette said as she walked up from behind. "What are we doing today?"

Chloe almost bounced. "Casidhe, needs a new style. Maybe you can suggest something?"

The stylist looked me over and ran her hands through my hair in different points, lifting the back, frowning at a couple of places, and generally making me think I was a lost cause.

"Well, we've got a couple of options with what I've got to work with. You can go with the pixie look, but with your high forehead I don't think it would be the best."

Chloe shook her head and scrunched up her face.

"Maybe a stacked look, oh, I know, how about an angled stack?"

At that Chloe looked at me and tilted her head. "Yeah, perfect. Her hair is awfully thick. Do you think you could take advantage of the body?"

At this point I was lost. The only time I had heard the word stacked it was in reference to a different portion of a girl's anatomy.

When they finally figured out what I was going to look like, the scissors flew. Well, guys, let me tell you about the Stack.

It's where the front of your hair is split near the middle and the sides are in long sweeping curves, framing the face. Then the bottom is angled about forty-five degrees up through the back exposing the nape of the neck giving a layered, almost stair step, look. Hence the stack.

The stylist had me watch her dry my hair so that I'd know how to style it in the mornings. By the time she was done my hair was about twice as thick as it was before. Kind of shaggy on the sides with a thick angled layer almost falling in front of my right eye.

It was different. I had to admit it looked good. Even with my plain face I already looked a lot like a girl.

She explained that I could part it down the middle, if I wanted, and just poof out the sides a little more if I was in a rush in the morning.

Chloe was grinning from ear to ear by the time we were finished.

"If you want to make an appointment I think a darker shade would fantastic on you." She reached over and took one of her business cards from a holder on the counter. "Just give a call and ask for Sylvia."

I took the card and slipped it in my back pocket. "Thanks."

Chloe couldn't help butting in. "We'll be back, definitely. Thanks, Sylvia!"

~O~

I'm not going to bore you with the rest of the shopping trip. We got the necessities. And three outfits. When we got back to the house, Chloe was in Barbie doll heaven dressing me up. She made her point. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and saw a very cute girl before me.

The make up was light. My eyebrows were thinned and separated, with a tiny arch. I wore a jade green sweater with a bra underneath, padded to give some semblance of a girl well on her way to entering puberty. The jeans I was wearing stretched tight across the front and back, but loosened as they went down ending with matching green ankle socks and tennis shoes.

"Your butt disgusts me."

I turned around and looked at it in the mirror. "What's wrong with it?"

She arched a single eyebrow at me. "It's disgusting that a boy has a nicer butt than I do. I mean look at it, all bubbly and uuuggh."

I shrugged. "You have better breasts than I do, get over it."

Laughter erupted from Chloe before she looked at her watch. "I have to go. It's getting late."

She looked at me one last time and shook her head. "You came out a lot better than I imagined. Wear that to school tomorrow. Get there early and I'll do your make up. It shouldn't take more then fifteen minutes."

"Need a ride?"

She smiled. "Yeah, that'd be great!"

She grabbed her backpack and we headed out. About five streets later Chloe reminded me about a few things.

"Remember to get up a little earlier to do your hair so you won't be late and don't forget to transfer everything in your wallet to the bigger one we bought for you. I'll have a few girly necessities for you tomorrow morning. If we have time I want to go back out tomorrow afternoon and get everything you'll need."

I chuckled a little at her orders.

"And this weekend we go on a shopping spree. Don't make any plans."

I pulled up to the house Chloe indicated and stopped.

"I had a great time today, Casidhe."

I nodded. "Me too."

Chloe grabbed my hand and gave me squeeze and a smile before jumping out and running for the front door. She turned around before going in and waved at me.

I turned back and took a deep breath. Tomorrow was going to be very interesting.

Photo Credit: Olga http://mgpg.wordpress.com/2006/09/25/olga-super-red/

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To Be Continued...