“I’ve been thinking about something though.” Dr. Franklin raised an eyebrow.

“What’s that?” she asked, her pen hovering above the pad of paper.

“Eye color. It’s easy to change your hair color, and you can get colored contact lenses. I’ve been wondering off and on what I would look like with grey or blue eyes…” Dr. Franklin scribbled some more notes down.

“I think you should talk to your mom and an optometrist about that, professionally. Personally, I think that grey eyes would look stunning with your blonde hair.” She said. “I think that since you are starting to ask me questions, that we can call this session finished.” I bit my lip. Dr. Franklin noticed this.

“You’re worried about something…” She noted. I sighed and nodded, kind of collapsing in the chair. “What’s on your mind?”

“The surgery. I just don’t know that I can go through with it. I would be content to keep my current plumbing, and that way Katie or my wife, if it’s not Katie, and I can have kids if we so desire. If I have my plumbing changed, that won’t be an option.” I took a drink of water. Dr. Franklin looked at me.

“Morgan, you are worrying about things that are at best several years off. I would like for you and your mom to try to stop by later this week so we can start to talk about hormones. If you are planning on living full time for the rest of your life, then we need to halt puberty as much as possible and keep close eyes on the amount of sperm you are producing so that you have the option to have children, if you so desire.” I nodded dumbly.

“Would anyone think anything of a girl that has a penis?” I glanced at the floor. I felt awkward talking to another girl about this sort of thing.

“No one would have to know. They have prosthesis that can make you look like you were born a female, even going as far as to where you can have sex that way although you wouldn’t ever have to worry about getting pregnant.” Dr. Franklin looked down at her note pad and then back up at me.

“You know, by your age, most girls have developed a little bit. Are you wearing a bra?” She raised an eyebrow at me and I blushed.

“Yes.” I said quietly, embarrassed for some reason.

“What is your band size?” I looked at her, my eyebrows raised. “That would be the number.”

“36, I think.”

“You think?” it was her turn to raise her eyebrows. I gave a small smile.

“I’m kinda new to bra sizes, at least in terms of knowing my own…” I said to her. She smiled at me.

“Would you mind letting me look at the bra you have on so I can see what size it is?” I stood up and turned around and lifted my shirt up so that Dr. Franklin could take a look at the band. I felt her cool fingers flip the band over and look at the tag. “You were off.. This is a 32.” She said, gently letting the band flip back over and then I heard her sit. I let my shirt fall to the top of my skirt and then sat, smoothing my skirt as I slid back into the chair. Dr. Franklin smiled and picked note pad back up, she smiled at me and then made a note. “B cup.” She said. I nodded, thinking to my self that anything bigger would look odd on my small frame.

“They would be out to about here?” I asked, holding my hands where I expected the end of my breasts to be. Dr. Franklin nodded.

“Yeah. About there.” She said. “Do you have any thing else thats bothering you?” She asked.

“Only things that you can’t answer.” I said to her. She raised an eyebrow at me.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, things like why people like James Petry have to be the way they are…” I let the thought trail off. She smiled and then reached out and patted my leg.

“People have wondered that since the dawn of time…” she replied.

Katie and I sat in my room, in front of my MacBook trying to figure out what data we actually needed for this project and what was just filler data in the book. Once we had gotten the data into Numbers, we looked at each other.

“Run it.” She said. I clicked a few buttons and let the program work it’s magic. “How’s your head?” I glanced over at her.

“It’s ok. It’s not hurting anymore. Maybe tonight you guys can actually let me sleep…”

“Katie, Morgan, Dinner is done.” We heard Jen shout up the steps. I glanced at the computer which was still sorting it’s way through the data we had fed it and then looked at Katie.

“Lets go eat.” I said. Katie and I both headed for the staircase and went down. We walked into the kitchen and Jen had already set the table, and was carrying a pot of what smelled like macaroni and cheese. As she walked by, I looked in the pot and sure enough, there was macaroni and cheese with what looked like ham in it.

“Smells good.” I said. Katie sat in a chair and I sat next to her. Jen sat the pot in the middle of the table on a large ceramic plate so that she didn’t burn the table. Jen scooped some of the mixture into bowls on the table. Mom came in and sat at the table. After Jen served all the food she sat down and smoothed her skirt out.

“Let’s eat.” Mom said, and with that we dug in. “So how was school today, Girls?”

“My day was ok. I don’t know about those two.” Jen said. Mom and Jen looked at us.

“Our day was fine with the exception of James Petry showing up and trying to get me kicked out of school. I just wish that people would accept me for me. I’m the same regardless of what I’m wearing.”

"Isn’t that the truth.” Mom said.