I arose bright and early the next morning, did my stuff, and had myself down in the hotel restaurant by seven-thirty on the dot. It might seem early, but compared to when I’m up for school it wasn’t particularly awful. On the bright side, staying up later had really helped me sync myself in and kick the worst of the jet lag.

One thing the Germans do very well is coffee. The brown elixir of life was as plentiful as it was rich and delicious. I helped myself to a large cup and as a growing girl, assaulted the breakfast buffet with gusto. Unlike home, it was a selection of breads, meats, and cheeses. Well, when in Rome… or rather Deutschland, I suppose.

There were a couple of others in the breakfast room by the time I arrived, but not a huge number yet. It seemed that more than a few of our cohort had been struggling with the timezone change. I was starting to assemble a sandwich comprising cheese and salami when Tina and Sarah joined me at my table.

“Morning! Did you sleep well?” Sarah smiled pleasantly, dropping in beside me with her own similarly continental spread.

“I’ve had far worse,” I admit, “But my brother did have a phase where he snored like a chainsaw.”

“I’m an only child,” she offers, tucking into some sliced fruit. “Always enjoyed the excuse to stay with others on school trips; it felt like a sleepover. How come you’re on your own?”

Why the questions before I finish my caffeine?

“They just had room, I guess. We had an odd number of guys.”

“It must be lonely; being by yourself.”

I shrug, “I’ve got a brother and a sister, I’m used to having a lot of people around so a break is nice.”

Tina drops into the seat across from us and stuffs a roll in her mouth like a hamster preparing for winter. “Mormimgfp.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Hungry?”

The midget nods vigorously. I’ll give her credit, for a pint-sized pixie she’s full of personality and I do kinda have a soft spot for her.

We finish up breakfast and our teachers corral us into a seating area off to one side of the lobby. At the time it was irritating, but now, I just feel sympathy for my teachers at having to herd forty excitable teenagers.

“Calm down everyone. The faster you listen, the sooner we can be on our way!”

Frau Whistler had her educator voice on today, and within moments we were suitably quietened down.

“Right, today is our first market trip. We will be heading up to Köln. They have three markets and we will try to get time to see them all if we’re lucky. You’re all sixteen and mature enough for some trust if you prove yourselves worthy, so if we have time I’ll see if we can get you some free time too.”

“I’d like you all dressed warmly and back down here again in thirty minutes ready to leave. Delay the coach and you get left at the hotel… probably.”

“Probably Frau Whistler? Aren’t you sure?” a poor unfortunate boy asks with a grin. Clearly he’s trying for clown cred, but it’s going to backfire.

Frau Whistler glares at the delinquent idiot. “Michael, we’re not allowed to leave you, but making this trip difficult for others will result in you being considered unsuitable for free time for the rest of the trip.”

Basically, fuck around and find out in teacher speak.

Once dismissed, we vanish off to our rooms to gather warm gear, Euros, and various cameras and gizmos that we want to bring with us. My parents got me a nice little digital camera that I intend to use mercilessly on this trip. Heck, if I’m lucky I can probably get a few Holly-worthy selfies when nobody’s looking.

I dress warmly for the day in a pair of jeans, my Rans, a sweatshirt, and a bulky winter coat. With a chunky hat and scarf, I would be well suited for the Arctic Circle. Look, where we come from it’s perpetually seventy-five and sunny, so sue me, I get cold.

I won’t bother to describe the organizational mess that is getting forty teenagers onto one bus. Surprisingly enough, it was just about managed within Frau Whistler's timeline. With little fanfare, our taciturn driver had us out into traffic and on our way as we left our hotel behind and set off north towards Köln.

The weather was rather cold this morning, but there wasn’t any snow on the ground yet. Aboard the bus, the atmosphere was rather warm and festive which put people in good spirits. While not a particularly long journey by distance; perhaps eight miles as the crow flies, the far narrower streets and heavier traffic entering the city made the trip last a good half an hour.

Before we managed to reach a destructive level of boredom, we pulled to a stop in a bus lane next to Köln’s Neumarkt; the first of our destinations for the day. Debussing before our transport vanished into the morning traffic, we stood huddled in an impatient blob while Frau Whistler delivered our marching orders. We had forty-five minutes here before we were to return to this exact spot on pain of death. Even with instructions as clear as this, I fully expected someone to screw it up.

When we were finally dismissed, I set off into the lanes on my own to explore the market. Perhaps that seems like a loner move, but I honestly wanted to experience a little of what they had to offer here on my own, away from the others. It had a rather useful side benefit that any misgenderings wouldn’t raise any eyebrows.

If you’ve never experienced a German Christmas market, either in your home country or Germany itself then the sights, sounds, and smells are something to behold. Whether it’s the roasting chestnuts and wurst, candy, or cake, the smells are enough to drive you wild. Add to that the delightful music and burble of the crowd and you can become lost in the atmosphere.

“What would you like Fräulein?”

I glance across the selection of tree ornaments on the stall. They’re all beautiful little painted wooden trinkets; soldiers, horses, snowmen, and beautiful little snowflakes. They’re not cheap, but I think they’d look adorable on our tree at home. I select a horse and a snowman and hold them up to the seller. “These, please?”

“The horses are very popular,” The man smiles, “I’ve sold out of those by mid-day in the last few days.”

He wraps them and hands them over to me. “Have a nice day Fräulein.”

I grip my bag and head back into the flow of people moving through the market. So far, I’ve purchased a little silver angel for Chrissie and a bag of what appear to be homemade cinnamon toffees. Things are certainly not cheap, but it’s not broken the bank yet. I don’t feel a pressing urge to blow everything in one market, I know we have quite a few to visit, but I’m hoping to bring everyone back something as a memento.

A finger taps my shoulder, “I thought that was you.”

I turn around and spot Tina’s roomie, Sarah. “Oh, hey.”

“Those decorations are super pretty.”

I carefully unwrap the horse and hold it up for her to see. “My Mom always loved horses, I thought it would look nice on our tree.”

“That’s cute,” she agrees. “I only got some little pastries so far.”

“Toffee for me,” I grin, shaking the other bag that I’m holding.

We start walking down the lane of little huts and stalls, eying the various products on sale as we dodge the crowd. Sarah stops at a nearby stall and I squeeze in alongside her in the press of bodies to get a better look. The stall in question has beautiful silver jewelry, by the looks of it, all handmade.

“Oh, these are so pretty.” she enthuses, eying the section of earrings. “Which do you think would look best?”

I regard the pretties before me. “Those snowflakes or the little bells, maybe the flower?”

“Totally agree,” she muses, focused on the trinkets. “You getting any?”

“Nah,” I shake my head, “I don’t have pierced ears.”

Sarah gives me a weird look and I realize exactly what I had said. “I mean, why would I? I might get my friends some.”

“You’re tight with Megan and Kara, right? The Byrne sisters?”

I nod as I select two pairs each for the girls. Animals for Kara and flowers and snowflakes for Megan. “We’re close, they’re cool.”

“So how’d you and Tina end up being friends?”

This chick is on twenty questions and I’m starting to get a little suspicious.

“We met at the gym, you know Skyline? The pass we can get instead of regular gym class?”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you hang out with any of the guys since we got here, what’s up with that?”

Yup, she’s definitely sniffing. Danger Holly Winters, Danger.

“I hang out with Gary… I guess.”

Sarah gives me a look. “It’s ok to just hang out with the girls; nobody’s going to judge you, Alex.”

“Why would they judge me?”

Sarah gives me a long sideways glance as we pass a wurst stand and I divert towards the meaty delights to put off further questioning.

“Two please,” I ask, waving my Euros at the purveyor in exchange for a pair of meaty treats. Transaction completed, I hand a grilled Bratwurst in a bun to Sarah and tuck into my own. It’s real hard to ask questions when your mouth is full, avoiding them is also pretty hungry work.

“I’ve never met anyone so good at dodging my questions, you know.”

“I’m a private person,” I shrug as I take a bite of my sausage.

Sarah eyes me again but doesn’t get a chance to push her conversation further as a winter-wrapped Tina arrives with two other girls.

“Hey! We’ve been looking everywhere for you guys,” she sighs theatrically, snatching the wurst from my paw.

“Hey!”

“You can have it back in a second, porky.” she snips, taking a huge bite of my snack before returning it. “Mm, tasty.”

“You calling me fat, Booth?”

Tina looks me up and down and shrugs. “In certain places,”

I clench my jaw and give her a death glare. I know what she’s suggesting and I’m not rising to it. Remind me, why do I like this girl again?

“Alex, right?” One of the girls asks as the other starts chatting with Sarah.

“Ah, yeah,” I shrug, giving her a friendly smile. “I don’t think we’ve met?”

“Chloe,” she smiles. She’s about my height and her brunette hair is full of beautiful ringlets. She’s wearing the most gorgeous pair of furry lace-up boots that are making me insanely jealous, but I digress.

“Did you find anything good?”

“A few trinkets for my family and some earrings for my friends, you?”

“About the same, they did say the other markets are bigger,” she shrugs. “Hey, you’re friends with Tina, right? I don’t recognize you from class though.”

Gulp.

“I’m not in your class,” I answer as flatly as possible, trying hard to avoid making it a big deal.

“Oh gosh! I’m sorry.” Chloe blurts, covering her mouth. “God, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s ok, it happens sometimes, I shrug dismissively. “Lots of layers, and I’m friends with a lot of girls, not a big deal or anything.”

God, I can’t wait for the days when I can just be friends with someone like Chloe and it does not require explanations or awkwardness. Two more weeks, and it’s all over, forever.

The little awkward moment is swept away as our gracious leader Tina decides it is time to raid the remaining vendors. Under her expert guidance, we cut a five-girl swathe through the remainder of Neumarkt. No stand was left unmolested by our passage. In the chaos, I even managed to grab a gorgeous little snowflake necklace for myself without Sarah spotting!

We were having such a good time that we barely made it back on schedule. As it was, we ended up having to really move it to get back to the meeting point in time for our bus. With only a minute to spare from our deadline, we finally skidded to a halt before our less-than-impressed educators.

“Thank you for being punctual ladies,” Frau Whistler sighed theatrically as she noted our arrival, “at least we’re all finally here.”

Tina grinned sheepishly and hid her shopping bags. “Sorry Frau Whistler, we got caught up with the stands.”

“Girls!” Some random guy muttered derisively, just loud enough for us to hear.

I blushed and stepped behind Chloe and Tina to ensure I wasn’t picked out of the group in front of everyone. Being center stage wouldn’t make for the best time to defend my questionable gender presentation. Thankfully, any further discussion was curtailed by the arrival of our erstwhile transport.

Without further ado, we piled aboard our coach to prepare for our next destination. Of course, being bundled in with a group of girls meant that when we found seats, I ended up sat with them. I’m really doing a piss poor job of playing the boy for this final hurrah, aren’t I?

Forty hot and excited teens soon had the confines of the bus rather steamy, and of course, hats, gloves, and jackets were soon being removed with great gusto. As we pulled out into traffic, my seat partner Sarah leaned in conspiratorially, with designs on resuming her prior interrogation.

“So, was that your boyfriend last night?” she whispers, “on the phone?”

Oh shit.

“No, what? I don’t have a boyfriend, Sarah.”

“It’s ok if you’re gay Alex, I mean, it’s pretty obvious that you are, honey.”

Oh you poor misguided girl, Tina was right. What I’m more annoyed by here is her insistence on pushing the issue.

I give her a meaningful look. “I am not gay, Sarah. Trust me, I would know if I was.”

This is factually correct, I don’t like girls even one bit.

Sarah gave me a look as though she didn’t remotely believe a word that I was saying but thankfully ceased her pursuit of my sexuality.

What is this chick’s problem? Thankfully some girl across the aisle manages to draw her attention away from me for a little while, saving me from further interrogation. I’m reasonably convinced that she has some inkling that something is off. As for her hearing my conversation with Rick, I will need to be far more careful.

Eventually, we arrive at the Alter Markt, the older of the three markets here in Köln. Our educators give us our marching orders and send us on our way. We’re here for a little longer, an hour and a half, and are expected to source our own sustenance. Give teenagers access to stands selling various winter treats and I’m sure nobody will manage to go hungry.

To avoid further interrogation, I make a point of tagging along with several of the other guys. Not ideal admittedly, but hey, when in Rome… well, Köln.

“So where have you been?” Soccer Steve asks as we descend into the market. “Man, I’ve barely seen you since we left home.”

I shrug as I dodge a rather large woman in a huge coat, “here and there. I got cornered by a girl I know and her friends.”

“You and chicks,” he chuckles. “First it’s the Byrne sisters and now here? What’s your secret, Romeo?”

Yeah, being a girl; the number one secret to getting a chick’s number.

One of the other guys looks confused. “Wait, you’re saying that this guy is hooking up and we’re fucking around looking at nutcrackers? What the shit!”

“I’m not hooking up with anyone,” I reply firmly. “Not on a school trip, not back home either, how about we drop it?”

“Touchy,” Steve laughs. “So what is it that you get up to with Gary’s sisters then if you’re not hooking up?”

I cast a quick glance at Gary and realize he’s not looking best pleased with this direction. I did not think this through and have worked my way into a corner. Thankfully, I have spent enough time around teenage boys to know the suitable response here. Remember, I have a machine gun mouth when I need it.

“Dunno, but you should be asking what your mom is getting up to…”

Steve tries to swipe in my direction but I am far too fast for his blunderingly obvious move. Many years of bullying have left me with ninja reflexes. I dodge his swipe, he misses, and his friends laugh at him now. Suddenly, Steve is the subject of friendly abuse for them and I can just follow along quietly; boys can be so easy to distract sometimes.

The Alter Markt is themed with scenes from winter fairytales and it’s just as stunning as the Neumarkt. All through the lanes of themed cabins, festive music is playing and the scent of food wafts freely through the air. It really is an experience one has to enjoy at least once in their lives. While it is true that you can get the same experience all over the world, the German Christmas markets are just somehow better when experienced in their original form.

I follow the others around for a while but they’re mostly just making dumb jokes and finding new and unique things to stuff into their mouths. There’s nothing wrong with them, but I can only tolerate so much brospeak. I really wish Rick was here; I’d love to wander the markets hand in hand with him, enjoying the food and atmosphere. Cuddling together and enjoying the experience, sigh.

The boys are busy trying to chat up some girl at a crepe stand with a whole load of weapons-grade boobage hanging out of her Dirndl. For those of you who don’t know, that’s one of those traditional fancy German dresses with the white underdress and the apron. While they are drooling, I spot a stand selling cute knitted winter wear and I cannot help but admire some of the pretty things. Back home, sure, one could say it’s not particularly cold. I am however pretty sure I could find a use for a nice set of hat and gloves.

I glance around and spot the boys still attempting to convince Fräulein Crepe that a bunch of teenage boys from America are extremely exotic and attractive. I don’t feel particularly worried about getting spotted, so I continue browsing and this is my first mistake; I presume far too much. You’d think I’d have learned this by now, wouldn’t you?

I try on a beautiful white slouchy woolen hat and pose to myself in the little mirror attached to the side of the display. God I’d love to be wearing a little makeup and a nice fashionable winter coat, but hey, I’m coping here… there’s always another year right? The hat is super cozy and honestly looks extremely cute in that way slouchy hats do. I’m too distracted by myself to notice Gary’s arrival.

“What you doing?” he asks, making a face at my rather unmasculine antics. “Take that shit off.”

Well, this is a conundrum.

“I was just…uh, seeing if it would fit.” I offer. “My Mom’s head is the same size as mine.”

“Sure you were,” he replies, shaking his head, a weird look on his face.

I turn to the lady manning the stall. “I’ll uh, take it, with the gloves and scarf please, for my Mom.”

“No problem Fräulein, I’ll wrap it up for you.” the lady smiles as she takes my Euros.

Gary isn’t much of a slouch linguistically, so he knows exactly what she said. The look he fires my way tells me we’ll likely be talking later, deep joy.

I kick myself for getting sloppy. I really shouldn’t have let myself have a little moment, but I can’t help it. Holding up the Alex mask is a full-time job these days. One that’s even harder out of uniform with everyone calling me Fräulein everywhere I go. Over here, nobody sees a guy. All they just see is Holly and I wish I could enjoy it.

 

 

We started the afternoon at the Kölner Dom and the Market in the Roncalliplatz around it. The gothic cathedral loomed large over the square, packed tightly with stands and stalls. It was by far the largest of the three market’s in the city and would be ours to explore for the next two hours.

Having learned my lesson from the morning, I set off alone. Hanging with the girls got me marked as one of them and doing what I ‘should’ and being with the boys got me picked on. There really was no good answer to this spicy gender conundrum.

My solution? Be by myself. That way I could be called Fräulein, and get sie’d and ihr’d as much as anyone wanted and nobody I knew could hear it. Total genius move… as long as I kept my head down and avoided running into anyone.

The market here at the cathedral was a little more traditional and less showboaty than the other two aimed more at families. Despite its size, it managed to have the most people and stalls of all of them. Everywhere I looked, families and groups of friends wandered back and forth enjoying the delights of the Weihnachtsmarkt in all its glory.

Closing my eyes, the sights and smells were a delight to the senses. Unlike the markets back home that tried their hardest to imitate the German originals, it just had that… extra that managed to make it perfect. Perhaps it was the general wall of chatter in the language in question, but the whole thing just felt far more normal and less false. It was still a commercial enterprise, don’t get me wrong, but it truly felt like a festive celebration.

“I thought I saw you off on your own.”

I spun around and spotted Frau Whistler grinning at me from behind a chunky red scarf.

“Oh, hey Ma’am. I wanted to get time by myself. Things have been a little hectic this morning.”

My teacher nods and smiles in understanding. “I hope Fräulein Booth hasn’t been too much of a bother?”

“No Ma’am, she’s not,” I admit. “A little full-on, but she’s been pretty decent. It’s everyone else that’s got me frustrated today.”

My teacher raises an eyebrow, so I elaborate. “Sarah Granger is convinced that I’m gay and wants me to admit it, the boys will pick on any perception of femininity as weakness and random girls are asking why they don’t know me from their class. It’s been an eventful day.”

“I can imagine,” Frau Whistler chuckles. “Glühwein?”

It’s my turn to elevate some eye furniture. “I’m not twenty-one, you know that.”

My teacher smirks uncharacteristically. “You can drink at age sixteen here in Germany. Plus, I’m sure you look old enough, Fräulein Winters. I’ll overlook it this once as you’ll have appropriate adult supervision.”

So that happened… I sat down at a lovely little hut with my German teacher and enjoyed a steaming hot mug of mulled wine. I won’t say it wasn’t unusual, because it sure as hell was. Life certainly likes to make its twists and turns when I’m around huh?

“So, two weeks including this trip huh?”

I nod, “Yup, and I cannot wait.”

“I think it’s all for the best, Holly. You’ll do far better amongst the girls. I just hope that you can have a smooth transition once you start. School can be hard for kids at the best of times, but when one is different it can be… tough.”

“I know Frau Whistler, I’m prepared to face whatever comes. I’ll be doing it as myself so I will see it through.”

My teacher smiles kindly as she sips her steaming beverage. “Look, when it’s just us, you can call me Jenny; you’re barely my student anymore.”

I frown, “Thank you, but that kinda feels wrong; to call a teacher by their people name.”

“Oh, my people name huh?” she chuckles. “Yeah, I suppose I am a people outside of all of this.

“My mom gets the same thing because she’s a doctor,” I offer. “Plenty of people only know her as Doctor Winters.”

“You’re planning to go into medicine too, correct?” Jenny Whistler asks. God that still feels weird to write even twenty years later.

I nod, “Yeah, I always wanted to be like her when I grew up.”

“Like her in far more ways than one.” My educator smiles before raising her mug in salute, “A noble cause, and it pays far, far better than teaching high school, even at a private one.”

She spots my bags and gestures at them. “All gifts, or did you buy anything for yourself?”

I pull out the hat, gloves, and scarf set and unwrap them before presenting them to Jenny. “These, and a pretty snowflake necklace. I’ve not had a lot of chances to shop for myself yet.”

“These are lovely, it’s a shame you can’t wear them here.”

“I know,” I sigh, watching my breath mist before me in the crisp afternoon air. “But I will soon, and that’s ok.”

Jenny Whistler shakes her head and smiles sadly. “I don’t really understand the why, Holly, but I really don’t know how you manage it.”

“Being Alex?”

She nods, and I grin. “I don’t; I’ve not been Alex in a long time. I’m Holly always, but I dress up and act like Alex here at school. Outside the gates? I’m just Holly Winters; daughter, sister, and girlfriend. I can put up with a few hours a day because I know it will end soon.”

“Girlfriend?”

Of course, she would latch onto that. I’m about to reply when her expression switches to a sly smile. “Young Mister Taylor, I think, yes?”

“How…”

“Did I guess?” she grins. “I may not teach him, but I have seen the two of you around the school. I didn’t notice anything odd until I knew the truth about you, Holly. Once I did know, it wasn’t hard to see a young man besotted with a young lady. Watching him follow you around, smile at you. It was the most obvious thing in the world.”

A thought comes to me and I feel emboldened by the admittedly limited alcohol in the Glühwein. “Why are you so ok with this? With me; it’s not exactly normal, is it?”

Jenny Whistler shrugs and looks off into the distance for a moment before returning her gaze to me. There’s a strange look in her eyes and I find it hauntingly familiar. “I had a brother once,” she starts, haltingly. “His name was Chris and he was three years older than me. I loved him so very much.”

“Chris killed himself when he was eighteen. He was gay, and he had never dared to tell our parents. We were staunch Catholics, really devout; the whole idea of gay people wasn’t on the table for Mom and Dad. Chris, he couldn’t take it. He hung himself in his bedroom and I was unlucky enough to find him. He came out to us all in his suicide note.”

“My god, I’m so sorry.” I reach over to touch her hand on the tabletop, a tear forming in my own eye.

Jenny wiped her eyes and sniffed. “I promised Chris that I would never judge anyone else for who they were, that I would never deny someone that told me their truth. Sure, I’m not gay, transgender, or anything myself, but I don’t have to be to tell you that I believe you. I don’t need to understand to see the young woman in front of me.”

I sit there, stunned for a moment just staring at my teacher. No educator has ever said anything quite so profoundly personal or powerful to me before. It was that simple and she had managed to summarise it so succinctly; you didn’t need to be gay to treat a gay person’s identity as valid. You didn’t need to understand gender dysphoria to accept that a transgender person was who they said they were. All you needed to do, was believe them. By validating someone, by accepting that this person was telling you their truth, you let them feel seen and you gave them power; power so readily taken away by an uncaring society.

“I think I understand,” I offered slowly. “I’m glad your brother had a sister like you.”

Jenny smiles, “I wasn’t there for him when it mattered. But I cannot change the past. The future is all that matters now. Chris would have liked you, Holly.”

She paused and laughed to herself as she drained the remainder of her mug. “No, Chris would have laughed his ass off at the wild crap you’re pulling off. He’d think it was brilliant.”

 

 

We made it back from the Christmas markets a little after five that evening. In typical fashion, there was a lot more going on in the evenings, but we were teenagers and we had been at it for most of the day. Honestly? My legs were pretty happy with the idea of relaxing tonight!

One thing they never tell you about long-distance travel and jetlag is that starting your holiday activities immediately feels like a really good use of time, but really leaves you feeling totally wasted, even when you’re an energy-filled teenager.

Dinner in the hotel’s restaurant was scheduled for six, so I had a little over an hour to relax before heading down for dinner. Perfect opportunity to call home if I got my time right; a little after five in the afternoon central European time would make it… about eight in the morning back home? Good enough in our household.

The phone rang for a few moments before it was finally picked up by my mother. “Holly? Is that you?”

“Hey Mom! Yeah, it’s me, how are you?”

“I’m good, everyone here is good. How was the flight, how is Germany?”

“Really, really long,” I complain, flopping back on the bed with a huge sigh. “We got to the hotel after dinner, went out for a little bit then spent today at the markets in Cologne, it was so amazing! I got presents for people and I had a wurst, Glühwein.”

Mom chuckles, somewhere five thousand miles away, “You sound like you’re having a really awesome time honey, I’m so glad. How is everything… else?”

Aka, any mishaps or woopsiedoodles to report? Frankly, It’s gone surprisingly well so far.

“Uh, you remember Tina, from the gym right?”

“I think so, your little blonde friend?”

“Well, it turns out that she takes German class, who knew?”

Mom’s tone turned instantly concerned. “Honey, is everything ok? Was anything said?”

“She was surprised, but it turned out ok; more than ok I guess,” I admit. “She’s a supporter, well, she supports me. She will keep quiet, I’m positive.”

“I’m glad you have someone there who knows honey, it makes me feel a little better that you’re not entirely alone.”

“I’m not really alone,” I frown. “Everyone else is here.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh,” I remember suddenly. “German immigration got a bit confused with me too, although Herr Norton, the girls' teacher, sorted it out. Otherwise, I’ve been ok, Mom. I think I got this, as tough as it is.”

“Only one more week once you get home baby, ok?”

I hugged my pillow tightly to me, “I know, Mom, not long now. I miss you guys.”

“You’ve only been gone two days baby, it can’t be that bad.”

“I know, but It’s just… I’m so far away.”

“You’ll be home in no time ok, I love you, Holly.”

“Love you, Mom.”

I ended the connection and stared at my phone for a moment. That’s the thing, technology might make us virtually closer, but I still knew I was nearly five thousand miles from my family and my home. That’s no walking distance in anyone’s book, even if we discount the large wet thing in the way too.

Hearing Mom’s voice made me feel connected to the world back home. I felt safe, even if in reality, my world was still just as perilous as it always was. This was my first big trip away from home; I hadn’t even gone away by myself within the continental United States, and yet, here I was all the way over in Europe.

It truly was a real case of swimmer, meet deep end. It might have been slightly less stressful if I was at least one consistent person rather than two. Ah, well, you can’t pick the trans nightmare, right?

It wasn’t long until dinner, so I got myself up and changed into a clean pair of cargos and a sweater. God, how I wished it was Holly that was here instead of boring old Alex. Hell, I could have been sharing with Tina or some other girl; we could have been having so much fun shopping and experiencing the culture here in Germany. I could be laughing with friends, rather than sitting here alone, missing home and trying to keep my head down; survival isn’t living.

I was in the bathroom tidying up my windswept hair when I spotted my bags from the day’s shopping. I decided that I deserved to indulge myself, even just a little bit. After a quick rummage, I managed to locate the snowflake necklace I had bought and slipped it around my neck. The chain was a fine silver, and the little snowflake pendant glittered in the light.

I smiled to myself and tucked it inside my hoodie’s collar: Nobody else had to know I felt a little bit pretty tonight. Even if the outward appearance was all Alex, I could know that inside the surface a tiny little bit of Holly was smiling. I resolved at that moment; I would enjoy this trip, even if it couldn’t be outwardly as myself. I would find ways to be happy.

Downstairs, the restaurant was starting to fill with hotel guests as a steady stream arrived for the impending feeding time. Initially, it took me a few moments to spot the others, eventually spotting our party being off to one side behind what appeared to be a coachload of French tourists.

I made my way over with the full intention to sit with Steve and his folio of fools; I might not get on with the boys that well, but I had to make appearances. Unfortunately, I spotted Tina standing and waving like a lunatic from one of the nearby tables. “Alex, over here!” she squawked, as subtly as a fart in a church.

“You really are extremely subtle, do you know that?” I pointed out, taking the remaining chair at the five-person table. “Did you run out of flags and flare guns?”

“I thought that might be a little too subtle,” she smirks. “We saved you a spot.”

“I was going to sit with the guys,” I offer weakly, in an attempt to display some manliness.

“No, come on Alex, you’ve got to sit with us,” Tina pleaded, “right guys?”

The round of affirmations from the three other girls seemed to make it a unanimous decision, so I surrendered and took my place with Tina, Sarah, Emma, and Chloe, the four girls that I was hanging with that morning. I really do suck at this pretending to be a boy thing, don’t I?

The meal for tonight was a set menu, which was probably for the best, given how many of us there were. We were all served in fairly short order by the hotel’s efficient wait staff. The menu? A cream of cauliflower soup to start, which was surprisingly tasty. This was followed by a knuckle of pork with boiled potatoes and seasonal vegetables. Not super festive, but it certainly filled a lot of hungry stomachs.

While the main course had been more than sufficient to please hungry teenagers, dessert was a little more disappointing; ice cream. As far as we could tell, it appeared to be two small scoops from a tub, narry a garnish or flake; utter travesty!

“This is kinda disappointing,” Sarah complained, shoving her vanilla slop around the bowl.

“The food here is super plain,” Chloe agreed, finishing off her own meager helping and looking disappointedly at the empty bowl as if it might summon more.

“What about we make our own dessert?” Tina offered, a sly smile spreading on her lips. “We all bought a bunch of candy and stuff at the markets today, right? What if we go back upstairs, pool a bunch, and have our own snackfest evening?”

“That sounds pretty neat actually. I’m down,” Emma, a tall blonde enthused. “I got a bunch of little cupcake things. We could grab our PJs and make it a real party!”

“I’m so down,” Sarah enthused, “I have like, a bunch of pastries and some candies.”

I’ll give her due credit, it’s actually a pretty good idea, and one I’d love to share in if I were just one of the girls; next semester cannot come fast enough. Then again, that is even supposing anyone actually wants to be friends with a freak like me. Sorry, I can be a barrel of laughs at times.

I make a face and shrug dismissively, “I’ll leave you guys to it, I’m gonna head back to my room and read. Have a good time, huh?”

“No way!” Chloe chimed in, “You’ve got to come too, Alex!”

“I’ll just get in the way, and I don’t want to be a hassle. I want to call home anyway.” I lie, trying to look like it doesn’t hurt.

“Nope, no escape,” Tina interjects, ruining my escape. “Four versus one say that you’re coming; don’t think I didn’t see the toffee you bought.”

What? You thought all the winter treats we teens bought were to be taken home intact? Get real, we’re pigs. I let my shoulders sag and hold up my hands. “Fine, for a little while, maybe.”

Oh great, I am apparently now an attendee of what pretty much amounts to a sleepover… as the only boy. The only problem is, I’m actually a girl and I need to keep that part a big fat secret. Dear god, why do I let myself in for this shit?

 

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