“Beautiful,” I involuntarily whisper as I watch the image on my screen, grateful that my microphone is on mute and that none of the other teenagers — the other girls — on the call can hear me. And in fairness, the images I’m seeing ARE beautiful.

The 15-year-old girl looks effortlessly elegant as she glides across the floor in her pink tutu. Even her pink face mask doesn’t detract from the illusion that she is the perfect image of a ballerina — although the badge stuck to the tutu that says ’15 today’ does a little.

‘Bryony is so talented,’ Bailey types in the call’s group chat, quickly earning ‘likes’ from the rest of us. It’s hard to argue — the blonde girl dancing across my screen isn’t just a skilled dancer, but is also predicted 8s and 9s in all of her GCSEs (and would’ve taken many of them early if not for Covid). She also helps to run the school’s computer club and is a shoo-in for prefect or maybe even head girl next year. When added to the fact that she’s nearly 5’ 8”, fit and very beautiful, it’s no surprise that many of the girls, not just in our group, but in the entire school envy her.

I, of course, envy her too — though that also applies for any girl who wears a pink tutu and pink tights. Or tights of any colour. Or any girl's clothing of any colour, for that matter.

‘She is awesome,’ Daisy types. ‘I wish I could walk as well as she does, never mind dance.’ I can’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the disabled girl and a pang of guilt — as difficult as I find being a boy, or rather being forced to be a boy, I have to accept that her life is much harder than my own. However, that doesn’t mean that my own life is perfect….

“Enjoying your dance show?” Sonia — who can’t see my screen but can hear the music — teases as she sticks her head around my bedroom door (without knocking first, of course.)

“…Ever heard of knocking?” I ask, immediately flushing with shame for snapping at her, as my sister scowls.

“I was only asking, no need to be like THAT,” Sonia sneers in response. “I just came to say I’m heading out to the shops to give you some privacy for your counsellor. Assuming you can tear yourself away from your girlfriends, anyway.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, not looking up from my screen as my cheeks continue to flush and Sonia closes the front door behind her. On my screen, Bryony finishes her routine and dips into a deep curtsey while the other girls in the class all applaud, and would likely have all given her a group hug too if it wasn't for Covid.

‘Easy social distancing — just wear a tutu,’ Daisy types, earning a genuine snort of laughter from me.

‘Doubt my parents would approve of that lol,’ Farah types with a ‘laughing’ emoji. ‘Maybe I could get a job designing jilbabs with built-in tutus?’

‘Or any dress that doesn’t show too much of your legs,’ Bailey types as I sigh sadly; while I know Farah keeps her body covered because of her religious beliefs, Bailey prefers more ‘modest’ clothing out of the belief — which always makes me feel a pang of sadness for her — that no one wants to see her body. Before I can type anything in reply, though, my laptop ‘pings’ to notify me of another incoming call.

‘G2G, counsellor is calling,’ I type, earning ‘hug’ and ‘heart’ emojis from the other girls.

‘Will probably be on a call with the birthday girl and the rest when you’re done,’ Bailey types. ‘Let me know and I’ll invite you to the chat.’

‘Okay,’ I type with a ‘smiling’ emoji before dropping out of the call and answering the new one.

“Hi Liam,” Darren says with a smile that I attempt to mirror. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything — I saw you were already in a call when I placed this one?”

“Umm, yeah, just — just a livestream, that’s all,” I reply, biting my lip as it’s clear my counsellor is expecting further details. “Of — of my friends’ ballet class. It was one of their birthdays, so they were doing a special performance; the dance teacher does that for all the girls.”

“I think I remember you telling me about that before for one of your other friends,” Darren says as I blush even more deeply — he’s right when he implies that this isn’t the first ‘special performance’ I’ve watched in the last few weeks. He’s also the only person in the world who knows why I watch the performances, and how much I wish I could ‘perform’ myself. “Was it for one of your close friends?”

“Umm, kinda close,” I reply. “Bryony’s part of, like, ‘the gang,’ but she’s a year above me, so we haven’t hung out much. Maybe now that Covid restrictions are starting to lift, we might, I dunno.”

“And how did you feel when you watched the performance?” Darren asks.

“…Same as when I watched all the other ones,” I mumble in reply. “I wished I could be Bryony, that I could have that life, those feelings, those friendships….”

“Even though to me, it seems like you already do have those friendships?” Darren asks.

“…It’s really not the same,” I sigh in reply. “Most of my friends are girls, sure, but most of them still see me less as a friend and more as a ‘boy friend’ with two words, if that makes sense. And I’m pretty sure Lily still wants me to be her boyfriend, but, like, with one word.”

“I can understand how that would be frustrating,” Darren says softly. “Especially as you’re at that age where hormones — male and/or female — are in control of your bodies. It’s only natural for girls to ‘recognise’ you and vice versa, and given your circumstances, only natural for this ‘recognition’ to cause you discomfort.”

“I don’t suppose I’m any closer to speaking to a gender identity specialist, am I?” I ask in a small voice, hoping that Darren doesn’t take offence, despite the many times I’ve asked this before.

“I’m afraid not,” Darren replies. “I have been asking, of course, but with the ongoing global situation and — well, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you again.”

“Yeah,” I sigh as I realise that any opportunity to talk about my Lisa-related ambitions has now vanished from this call.

“Have you kept up to date with your emotion diary, particularly regarding your feelings about your sisters' treatment of you when you were younger?” Darren asks, smiling as I nod, reach into my nightstand for the small notebook and open it from where we left off last week.

As always, we spend the next 45 minutes discussing my feelings, my grief for my parents — especially with the one-year anniversary of their deaths coming soon and Father’s Day being just around the corner — and my continuously-strained relationship with my sisters. And, as usual, we gloss over any discussion of my gender identity issues until I’m able to talk to a trained gender identity counsellor about it. Whenever that will be, anyway. It actually comes as a relief when Darren calls an end to this week’s session, mostly as Sonia hasn't returned yet, meaning that after I send a message to Bailey, I'll be able to sit back and enjoy my call without any unwanted interruptions. For now, anyway....

“Hey Liam!” Daisy cheers as I rejoin the call, which has all the girls from the dance class in it — with the notable exceptions of Bryony and Sabrina.

“How was your counselling session?” Lily asks gently with a sympathetic smile. “Don’t answer that if you’re not comfortable, of course.” I bite my lip as the slender girl tries not to blush — she clearly knows how sensitive a topic it still is for me and doesn't want to offend me by asking about it. Hopefully, my smile will let her know that I’m not offended — the last thing I need right now is to drive a wedge between anybody in this group.

“It was okay,” I shrug. “Just talked about the usual stuff, you know.”

“Well, hopefully this chat will be a bit more fun, hehe!” Molly giggles as I smile. “Bryony and Sabrina will be online in a bit; they’re just having a meal at Bryony’s house first. It WOULD have been a proper party, but — well, yeah. No prizes for guessing why not, heh.”

“I think Bryony had to twist her parents’ arms just to let her bring Sabrina home,” Jo — the other girl in our ‘group’ from Bryony’s school year — says, clearly upset but understanding why she was excluded from the in-person party.

“Also, ballet does make you a bit sweaty!” Ari interjects as the other girls all roll their eyes. “Oh please, you know I’m right, and especially in June?”

“…Okay, so maybe I DID shower when I got home,” Lily says with a wink that I can’t help but feel they directed at me.

‘I imagine you’re used to this by now?’ Bailey messages me privately, referring to the fact that, as always, the main topics of the chat have become ballet and boys and, as usual, Bailey, myself and the other ‘misfits’ won’t have much to contribute.

‘I imagine you know by now that I don’t mind?’ I reply with a ‘winking’ emoji that makes my bespectacled friend giggle on screen.

‘I sometimes forget what a cool guy you are,’ Bailey types and, even though I smile, I wonder as always whether Bailey would still think I was cool if she knew I didn’t think of myself as a ‘guy.’

‘Thanks,’ I simply type in reply as the chat continues between the girls, with me quickly becoming engrossed once again.

“…Was saying that with dance schools reopening last month, it won’t be long before I start training for pointe shoes,” Ari says to the approval of the group. “And I am a bit nervous, but Bryony just looked SO beautiful in her tutu tonight.”

“All of us girls look beautiful in tutus or whatever we wear,” Lily says confidently to the approval of the group. “Honorary girls… that’s kinda up to you Liam, hehe!” ‘How do I respond to THAT?’ I ask myself. ‘I wish I could be as beautiful as you?’ ‘I wish I could wear a tutu and dance like you girls?’

…All the things my sisters coerced me into saying when I was younger, whenever I DID wear any of their clothes — and how I definitely did NOT feel beautiful at the time? “…Thanks,” I mumble as Lily and the other girls giggle before quickly moving on with the chat, while I wonder whether Lily was giving me an opportunity to come out — though given that Lily has only ever expressed interest in masculine boys, it’s more likely that it was a ‘test’ that I ‘passed.’ From her perspective, anyway….

“But you’ll get the hang of pointe quickly enough, Ari,” Molly assures the raven-haired Polish girl. “Yes, it’s an absolute pain to start with — and a lot of times after that, too — but you really feel more like a proper ballerina when you start dancing en pointe.”

“Plus, it makes your legs look AMAZING,” Lily says, leaning back and stretching one of her bare, hairless legs above her head for the benefit of everyone on the call — me in particular, if Bailey is to be believed. “Which I’m very grateful for now that tights season is officially over at school, hehe!” I smile as the other girls laugh, though I know the laughs are at the very least forced in the case of Daisy and Farah — both of whom only ever wear trousers to school, the former for practicality and the latter for religious reasons — and Bailey, who’s still wearing tights to school for modesty reasons. The other girls, though, have been bare legged at school since June, thanks to the school’s uniform code stating that girls have to wear tights with skirts, but only between the months of September and May inclusive. This led to a very strange — but still very cool — ritual on June 7th (the previous week having been half term) when the other girls all showed up to school wearing tights under their skirts… only to take them off and throw them in the bin before the school day started. It took every bit of willpower I had not to fish at least one discarded pair out of the trash- god knows it’s not like I could’ve asked the girls to give their discarded tights to me…

“REALLY hope that they let the cheer club happen next year too,” Molly sighs.

“Totally,” Jo says with a sad smile. “It didn’t bother Bryony very much, but Sabrina was totally gutted that they cancelled it this year. Dance club too.”

“Do you plan on spending all of year 11 changing from one skimpy uniform to another?” Daisy asks with a cheeky grin. “And the whole of year 10 for the rest of you?”

“Hopefully,” Lily replies with a sickeningly sweet grin as the other girls giggle, but I can’t help but notice a sad look on the faces of Farah and Bailey — and Daisy too, despite her joke.

‘Oh goody, a year of cheerleading chat to look forward to as well,’ Bailey types, making me giggle. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind and I love that I’m included, at least in discussing it, if nothing else.’ I pause as Bailey takes an unusually long time to type her next message, almost like she’s really thinking about what to type next, or more likely, deleting and retyping the same message over and over. ‘It’d be nice if I was able to actually contribute something myself.’

‘I totally get that,’ I type, pressing send before I realise what I’ve typed, and hoping that Bailey doesn't read too deeply into my words.

‘I’m afraid netball isn’t much like basketball,’ Bailey types with a ‘winking’ emoji. ‘Not that anyone in the chat plays netball. Not voluntarily, anyway.’ Bailey’s ‘sad’ emoji makes me bite my lip — it’s pretty clear she hates netball (and, in all likelihood, all sports) just as much as I hate football and rugby. However, her dislike for sport likely stems from her dyspraxia, and not for the reason I hate boys’ sports.

“Before that, though, we’ve got summer!” Molly cheers to everyone’s approval. “I am SO hoping we can, like, get to an actual beach this year instead of just our back garden.”

“As long as we can all be in the same garden, that’ll be enough for me,” Lily says. “I’ve already got my bikini ready!” I smirk as the girls all cheer and start discussing their own swimwear, before another private message pings on my screen.

‘Farah gave me permission to tell you she’s got her burkini ready rather than her bikini,’ Bailey types with a ‘laughing’ emoji as the Pakistani girl smirks on screen. Before I can reply to the message, though, the screen pings to let us know that the birthday girl has finally joined the call — though, when the screen springs to life, it’s not Bryony on screen, but her sister Ashley instead. My heart momentarily skips a beat at the sight of her — I know that Ashley is transgender, having been told by the other girls (not the least Bryony herself), but it’s almost impossible to tell just by looking at her. She is tall, pretty, has immaculate hair and make-up and looks to be wearing a very pretty dress too — but the serious look on her face suggests that she’s not in a partying mood right now.

“Hey, gir — umm, hey everyone,” Ashley says, clearly correcting herself when she sees me on the call. “Bryony, she — she’s not feeling well right now, so she — she’s not going to be joining the party, I’m afraid.”

“Oh my god, is she okay?” Lily asks with clear and immediate concern for our friend.

“She seemed fine at ballet,” Molly interjects. “She was excited for the party, even if it was just Zoom. What happened?”

“She — umm, she’ll tell you, like, at school tomorrow,” Ashley replies, fidgeting awkwardly.

“Will she be in tomorrow if she’s not well?” Jo asks. “Is Sabrina sick too?”

“Sabrina’s gone home already,” Ashley replies. “And Bryony, she — she should be in, umm, tomorrow. I — I’ll let you girls, umm, I’ll — I’ll let her tell you herself; it’s not really my place to — umm, I — I’ll let her tell you when she can. Thanks. Bye.” Ashley leaves the call as abruptly as she’d joined it, leaving the rest of us confused into silence.

“…Okay, then,” Lily says, clearly unconvinced by Ashley's explanation.

“What — what do you think’s happened?” Daisy asks. “She’s obviously not sick; but wasn’t her sister being really weird?”

“I dunno,” Lily replies with a sigh. “Kinda killed the mood of the party a bit, though.”

“Yeah, I don’t feel much like partying anymore either,” Molly sighs. “God, I really hope she’s okay….”

“Well, we — we’ll find out tomorrow, I guess,” Daisy says. “See you all tomorrow at school?”

“Sure, see you then,” Ari says as she signs out of the call.

“I’ll let you know if I hear anything from Bryony or Sabrina,” Jo says before also backing out of the call. Gradually, the girls leave the call one by one until it’s just me and Bailey left. The bespectacled girl smiles and holds up a sign to her camera that says ‘text?’ waiting until I nod before dropping off the call herself. Predictably, a text comes through to my phone mere moments later.

‘I really hope Bryony’s okay,’ Bailey types. ‘I went to her 13th birthday party 2 years ago, and it was fun, even if her sisters were a bit too energetic lol.’

‘You got to meet Ashley?’ I ask. ‘What’s she like?’ I grimace immediately as I send the text — it’s going to raise some questions about why I’m so bothered about what Bryony’s trans sister is like.

‘She’s cool,’ Bailey replies. ‘She was on our table in her last year of school as all of her friends were the year above and she had problems with bullies in her year.’ THAT doesn’t sound promising, I think to myself as I remember how kids at my old school reacted when they thought someone was gay. Though it could've been much, much worse....

“Liam!” Melanie shouted from her bedroom. “Come here!” Even when I was seven, I’d already learned better than to argue and meekly trudged from my bedroom to Sonia’s, where both of my sisters were sat on the bed, playing with their phones. Secretly, though, I was already looking forward to what ‘costume’ I was going to wear — though on that particular evening, they had other things in mind.

“Hey Liam!” Sonia said in her usual mocking tone, before showing me a photo of a young man on her phone. “What do you think of him?”

“I don’t know,” I replied with an innocent shrug. “Who is he?”

“Never mind who he is; do you like him?” Sonia asked.

“How do I know if I like him if I don’t know who he is?” I asked.

“But do you LIKE him?” Melanie asked.

“Maybe, I guess?” I replied, triggering a giggling fit in my sisters.

“Are you gay?” Sonia asked, barely suppressing her laughter.

“What does that mean?” I asked innocently.

“He doesn’t know what gay means!” Melanie said to Sonia, her giggles increasing as I grew more and more agitated.

“Gay means ‘happy,’ ” Sonia said, knowing full well that she wasn’t telling me the whole truth. “So, are you gay?”

“Not right now, I’m not,” I mumbled.

“Have you been gay before?” Melanie asked.

“I suppose,” I replied with a shrug as my sisters almost wet themselves laughing.

“Say it!” Melanie urged. “Go on, say that you’ve been gay before!”

“…I’ve been gay before,” I replied, not even noticing that Sonia was filming me with her phone.

Naturally, that video got replayed over and over again for the next few months — including in front of our parents, much to my embarrassment and their anger. Even after they made my sisters delete the video, I would be reminded of it over and over again; Sonia and especially Melanie seemingly never growing tired of it.

‘I don’t get why people think that being LGBT is something to laugh at,’ I type, smiling as Bailey replies with a ‘nodding’ emoji.

‘It’s silly,’ Bailey types. ‘And Ashley isn’t any less of a girl than I am; I knew that within an hour of first meeting her. If anything, she’s even more of a girl as she likes ballet, fashion, and she was a cheerleader too.’

‘I don’t see how not liking that makes you any less of a girl,’ I type, smiling as Bailey replies with a ‘grateful’ emoji. ‘Or how Ashley being born male makes her any less of a girl.’

‘Exactly,’ Bailey types. ‘Ashley wasn’t hurting anyone by wearing a skirt to school instead of trousers. Even if she wore trousers but still declared herself to be a girl, who would it have hurt? Even her younger sisters accepted her as a girl.’ If only older sisters were so easily convinced, I think to myself. ‘Bryony, in particular, was very supportive; I think they still share a bedroom.’

‘I hope she’s okay,’ I type as I head back through to the living room, where I discover that my own sister has returned and has earphones in, only looking up as I approach.

“Hi Liam!” Sonia says, pausing whatever she was listening to on her phone. “Did you have a good meeting with your counsellor?”

“Um, sure, it was okay,” I reply with a shrug as I sit down on the sofa opposite my sister and turn my attention back to my conversation with Bailey.

“…Well, that was a fun conversation,” Sonia says with a sigh.

“I don’t want to interrupt your video,” I mumble meekly.

“I can pause a video,” Sonia retorts. “Not so easy to pause our lives, is it?” I dunno, you always seemed to have no problem pausing my life when it suited you when I was younger....

“I’m talking to a friend from school,” I retort.

“Who you’ll see tomorrow at school,” Sonia says. “I want us to talk NOW.” Never mind the fact that the person I’m texting is barely able to speak out loud, I think to myself as I type a quick ‘brb’ to Bailey and lay my phone down at my side.

“What do you want to talk about?” I ask.

“You,” Sonia replies. “I mean, I’m glad you’ve made friends down here, but I am still worried, you know? Especially with the anniversary coming up soon.”

“…Yeah,” I whisper. “But Darren’s really helping me, honestly. And my friends — my friends are great. I feel like I can tell them anything.” Well, almost anything, I think to myself.

“I’d like you to feel that way about me, too,” Sonia says. And if I can’t tell my friends, I certainly can’t tell you, I think to myself as I bite my lip. “But I suppose I get it; there’s a massive age gap between fourteen and twenty-six. It doesn’t mean we should never talk, though.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I say. “And I suppose I’m okay, really.”

“…Well, I suppose that’s some progress, at least,” Sonia sighs as she puts her earphones back in. “But don’t feel like you can’t talk to me if you need to. You won’t be bothering me if you come to me with a problem, really. And it would be nice to meet your girlfriend one of these days. When you figure out who she is, anyway!” And THERE it is, I think to myself with a sigh as I turn back to my phone.

‘Back, sorry about that,’ I type. ‘Sister wanted to talk to me.’

‘You don’t need to tell me about annoying older sisters,’ Bailey replies with a ‘winking’ emoji.

‘Is Tia being a pain?’ I reply, earning a ‘laughing’ emoji from my friend.

‘Now that Covid rules are being relaxed, she’s around a lot more,’ Bailey explains. ‘Usually to tell us all about her day and not let us get a word in edgeways, even if I could.’

‘Anything interesting?’ I ask.

‘Put it this way — I’d rather listen to 10 straight hours of Lily and Molly talk about ballet and boys than one minute of Tia talking about herself,’ Bailey replies, to which I reply with a ‘laughing’ emoji.

‘That bad?’ I ask.

‘She seems to think that because she’s talking about things that are “popular,” they’re also interesting,’ Bailey types, making me smirk. ‘I don’t think she’s a narcissist, she just genuinely believes that and doesn’t understand why I’d rather read poetry than listen to her talk about all of her trivial stuff.’

‘Maybe you can tell her about Bryony’s party next time she drops round?’ I suggest with a ‘winking’ emoji.

‘Only if Bryony’s okay,’ Bailey replies, making me feel guilty about how quickly I forgot about my friend's 'illness.'

‘Sorry,’ I type with a ‘sad’ emoji.

‘It’s okay,’ Bailey types with a ‘smiling’ emoji. ‘Maybe I’m being too worried about her.’

‘That just means that you’re a great friend,’ I retort. ‘God knows if it was a boy who ended their party like this the other boys would probably already be hurling abuse at them over messenger in the name of “fun.’’ ’ I bite my lip as Bailey replies with an ‘angry’ emoji, though her subsequent message lets me know that I’m not the one the emoji was directed at.

‘I’ll never get why boys are like that,’ Bailey types. ‘Why they think that being sensitive means that a person should be bullied. Or even worse, why they think that being insensitive impresses girls, as it’ll never impress me.’

‘I agree with you 100%,’ I type.

‘I hoped you would,’ Bailey types with a ‘smiling’ emoji. ‘No offence intended, but sometimes I think you’d make a better girl than you would a boy.’ Needless to say, my heart melts as I read these words — Bailey doesn’t know about ‘Lisa,’ she can’t know, but hearing that maybe, just maybe, she’d accept ‘Lisa’ makes me think, for the first time in a long time, that good things might just be around the corner.

‘Why would I take offence?’ I type. ‘You know I think girls are great.’ The ‘smiling’ emoji I get from Bailey tells me all I need to know. Well, almost all — despite her words, there’s no guarantee that she’d accept ‘Lisa’ as a friend just as easily as she accepted ‘Liam.’

However, as I go to bed later that night, I allow myself to feel optimistic for the first time in a long while — though I am, of course, still worried about my friend. Her 'illness' came on far too suddenly, even if it was Covid she'd have been showing symptoms at her ballet class. Something clearly happened at the party and, whatever it was, I just hope it doesn't end up splitting our group apart....

The worry remains as I wake up the following morning and go about my usual morning rituals, finishing by saying goodbye to my sister as she logs on to her home work terminal. When I arrive at school I am, as always, greeted by my friends — though it’s clear that they’re just as worried as I am.

“Hi Liam,” Daisy says in a much less exuberant voice than normal.

“Hey everyone,” I say in an equally subdued voice. “Has- have you seen Bryony yet?”

“N- n- not y- yet,” Bailey replies. “I- I- I s- saw S- S-“

“Sabrina,” Daisy interrupts, much to Bailey’s relief, “but she didn’t stop to say ‘hi.’ ”

“Which is really unusual for her,” Farah adds as something suddenly occurs to me.

“You don’t — you don’t suppose they had a fight, did they?” I ask quietly. “Bryony and Sabrina, I mean.”

“Typical BOY, thinking that!” Daisy admonishes me as I blush. So much for Bailey’s words last night….

“They adore each other, anyway,” Farah says. “Hard to imagine anything coming between them. Even — no, especially not a BOY.”

“Th- there w- w- wasn’t any b- b- boys a- at th- the p- p- p- party anyw – way,” Bailey says.

“So what do you suppose happened?” Daisy asks exasperatedly. “I don’t like having our group, you know, broken up like this.”

“Well, whatever’s happened, we shouldn’t confront Bryony about it,” I say. “We should let her come to us in her own time.” I bite my lip as my friends all look at me with confused looks on their faces, which slowly transform into knowing smiles. “…What?”

“You were right, Bailey,” Daisy giggles. “He really would make a better g- a better boy than all the other idiots in this school!” I try not to blush and frown at my friend’s compliment — assuming they intended it as such, which is a safe assumption knowing both girls. And while I’m annoyed at Bailey sharing what she said last night with Daisy, I can understand it — she is her best friend, after all. However, even this knowledge doesn’t stop me from bristling at Daisy’s laughs — after fourteen years of being laughed at by two girls, I don't think I'll ever be able to see it as a good thing, no matter how much these particular girls see me as 'one of them.'

“T- t- t- told you,” Bailey says with an uncharacteristically smug smirk.

“We should probably get to form,” Farah sighs as the corridors start to clear. “See you at the table at break?”

“Of course,” I reply, trying not to blush as I get approving smiles from Bailey and Daisy, though I can’t help but notice my bespectacled friend blush herself as we take our seats for form.

“I- I- I-‘m s- s- sorry f- f- f-or t- t- t-” Bailey whispers, noticeably straining even more than usual with every syllable she says.

“It- it’s okay,” I interrupt. “Daisy’s my friend too; I don’t mind you telling her, and like I said, I don’t see it as an insult. You and Daisy clearly mean it as a compliment, so — yeah.”

“Th- thanks,” Bailey whispers, sharing a smile with me behind her mask as our form tutor arrives to start our lesson.

The first two lessons of the day seem to drag as I find my anxiety about my friend growing, but also my anxiety about myself. When Bailey said last night that she thought I made a better girl than a boy, I’d assumed that it was just a joke, a one-liner said once and then forgotten. But if she talked it over with Daisy, then obviously she's put a lot more thought into it. And given that she knows Bryony’s sister and probably Lily’s sister as well, it wouldn’t be too great a ‘leap’ for her to see me as not just an honorary girl, but a girl full stop. It’s all but guaranteed that she’d accept me as a girl, too, and even though some of the other girls may take a bit more persuading — particularly Lily, who clearly still has a thing for me — life as ‘Lisa’ seems closer than it ever has before.

And then, at break, just as always seems to happen, everything gets turned upside down again.

“Hey everyone,” I say, sitting down in my usual spot between Lily and Bailey, but before anyone can say anything, we’re distracted by first Sabrina, then Bryony walking past our table — both blushing with shame as they glance furtively at us.

“B- Bryony?” Lily asks with clear concern for her — our — friend. “Wh- what’s up? Are you okay?”

“Please — please leave me alone,” the tall blonde girl says, obviously on the verge of tears.

“Please, can — can we help?” Lily asks. “If something’s wrong, please let us help; we don’t want to see you like this…”

“Like — like what?” Bryony asks, seeming almost angry at what Lily was saying — or rather, implying. “Is there something meant to be wrong with how I am? With who I am?”

“B- Bryony?” Lily asks, almost in tears herself at the older girl’s uncharacteristic aggression.

“Okay, if you must know,” Bryony says, looking like she’s almost throwing up with nerves, “the reason last night’s party got called off is because I kissed Sabrina.” Needless to say, this causes many of our jaws to drop, and Bryony’s further revelation just makes our jaws drop even further. “And the reason I kissed my best friend is because I’m gay. I’m gay, gay, SO gay, gay. I’m homosexual, a lesbian, sapphic; you name it, I am G-A-Y, GAY. Are you happy now?” A long pause falls over the table as we try to process what we’re being told — a pause that’s broken by the most unlikely person.

“A- a- a- are you?” Bailey asks softly, instantly shattering the blonde girl’s defences and causing the colour to drain from her face.

“…A bit?” Bryony replies in a much meeker, more timid voice than before, shuddering and looking almost like she’s going to faint before being supported by Bailey and Farah, then directed to sit between myself and Lily.

However, despite everyone’s outward support for our friend, I can’t help but notice a change in their demeanour — especially Lily and Molly, the two most ‘overtly straight’ girls in our group. Both of them are looking at Bryony like she’s a total stranger, and not the friend they’ve known and loved for three years. As Bryony explains her story — including how she’s known for years that she only liked girls, how she finds boys repellent and how she’d always liked Sabrina more than just as a friend — I find myself empathising more and more with what she’s saying. She’d tried so hard to hide who she truly was that in the end it was tearing her apart… but when she finally came out, it tore apart her oldest and most treasured friendship. And the fact that Sabrina keeps her distance for the rest of the week, including Bryony’s postponed Zoom party the following Saturday, is proof that sometimes, the price of living freely is high — maybe even TOO high. After all, there’s no guarantee that any of my friends would accept ‘Lisa’ for who she is.

However, the week’s events make it a safe bet that Bryony would be just as strong an ally to me as I intend to be for her. And god knows that if 'Lisa' were to ever make 'her' debut, I'd need them….