On a rainy night after an argument a teenager finds himself not as alone as she thought.

“Are you okay,” a soft voice came from behind me?

I glanced up not even startled out of my depressive thoughts. A young woman was standing next me as I sat on the bench. The rain was finally letting up, not that it helped my situation any. I had walked off months of anger and was feeling the doubt of self pity and depression.

She reached her arm around my shoulders, “Did you run away?”

My first thought was this woman wanted something from me. Not that I had anything for her. “No. Not exactly anyway. I walked away. I had full intention of going back. But I got all the way down here and my phone fried and…”

She squeeze my shoulder, “Come on, let’s get you inside and cleaned up.”

Like a sad wet dog being led to his house I stood up with my head sunk toward the ground and followed her.

“How old are you,” she asked?

“Sixteen.”

Two stores down she led me into her salon and sat me down in one of the seats.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” I replied softly.

“Well something must be or you wouldn't be sitting out in front of the shops after closing, especially with it raining like Niagara Falls.”

I sighed and barely glanced up at her. “I don’t even know where it all started. I heard my dad yelling at my sister and went down to see what was going on. Hell, I don’t even know how I got involved or what it was about. The argument went on and on and finally I had enough. I just walked away, grabbed my jacket and left the house. Before I knew it it was pouring and then at the worst time a car drove by and splashed mud and gunk on me.” I felt warm tears beginning to flow down my face, and cleared my sinuses from the increased drainage. I had no idea why I was talking to her.

She pressed her hand gently into my shoulder. “It will be okay,” she reassured me in a calm and caring tone. “Now let’s get those clothes off before you catch a cold,” she obviously stated to me being the only other person in the place.

I nodded my head sullenly and took off my jacket and shirt as she brought some towels. “Everything, you're soaked, just wrap some towels around yourself for now.”

I did. Just like that, I dropped my pants and underwear and dried myself off and wrapped a towel around my midsection. I don’t even know if she watched.

She gave me a washcloth and turned me around. “Wash your face and neck off there and then I’ll get your hair taken care of.”

Again I followed her instruction, never once questioning anything even to myself.

“What’s your name?”

“Jamie.”

“Mine is Amy. Jamie and Amy sitting in a salon…” With my failure to reply at her obvious bad joke she continued her questions, “And where do you live?”

“North 210th Avenue, up near Granger.”

“Oh,” she smirked, “I live at the Roseland Apartments on 192nd there.” She stopped for a moment trying to engage me in conversation I knew. “Well, what’s your parents number. You don’t need them worrying any more than they already do.”

I told her while rinsing my face feeling slightly better to have the mud off. I heard the beeping of a phone and closed my eyes feeling the warmth of the hot washcloth.

“Hi, is this Jamie’s mother? … This is Amy. I’m at my shop here in Burgundy Park. ... Yep, Jamie’s right here washing up. I found Jamie sitting on the bench outside when I was closing up, drenched and covered in mud. … Don’t worry about it. I’ll drop her off on my way home. I live up there anyway so it’s not out of my way. … Give us an hour or so, we’re having a heart to heart. … Absolutely sure. … Yep, this is my cell so call me if you need to. … No problem, bye.”

“Now that, that is taken care of let’s do something about that mop of yours.” Her statement saddened me in ways only I could know.

She swung the chair around and leaned me back into the sink and began washing. It was immediately relaxing. “Your mom is a bit trusting isn't she?”

“Not really. I have no idea why she isn't banging on the door here already.”

She laughed. “I guess I just have a way with people. So, what is all this drama in your life?”

“I don’t know. Every time I turn around someone is trying to make something of nothing and it seems like I’m always involved. Mom wants something unrealistic. Dad gets mad. Mandy, my sister, gets in an argument with one of them. Then there is the ‘Why can’t you be more like Jamie and just do your chores’ thing. And then Mandy gets mad at me. And and and…”

“Sounds like you’re having a rough time lately,” she replied.

The conversation continued for a while. We really did have a heart to heart. I let it all out on the floor and it helped. I could feel my internal load dropping. I guessed sharing the burden really does what they say.

She had me so deep in conversation that I barely noticed she had finished washing and set me back up. She clipped at my hair and tweaked it here and there, then ran some odd smelling stuff through it with her fingers. After an unknown amount of time she turned me around to face the mirror. “So what do you think? Cute huh?”

My mouth dropped. I was a semi-messy sandy blonde haired boy. Looking in the mirror I saw the same face, but the hair was clean and shiny, even silky looking. It had highlights in the new bouncy curls. I swished my head back and forth watching in amazement.

“She likes it. She really likes it,” Amy said with a grin on her face as I looked at her through the mirror.

“I… I… How did you know,” I replied with more than enough stagnant pauses?

“I could tell. Plus the bit of eyeliner and mascara gave it away.”

I almost freaked thinking if she had seen it my parents could have as well.

She put her hand on my shoulder again, “Hey, calm down. It’s okay.”

“But, mom, dad.”

“Even if they've seen you before or now; After what you have told me about them I really don’t think it would matter. Do you?”

Even with her rationalism I was still scared out of my pants. Ironically I had no pants on which brought up the next thought and problem. “Um, what am I going to wear?”

She smiled at me. “Not to worry, Sister Amy is always prepared. I have an extra set in the back that should fit you well enough for now.”

“Fit me? But I can…”

“Sure you can.,“ she not so rudely interrupted.

I felt something deep inside when I looked at her. It told me that this was not an argument I would win, nor was an argument at all. I thought of a quote I had heard somewhere, “A game is won before it even starts.” I figured that aptly expressed my thoughts.

Just then there was a knock at the door. We both looked over before Amy went and opened it.

A police officer stepped in. “Everything okay in here Ames.”

“Sure is. I am just helping out a lost soul.”

he shook his hat covered head with a cynical grin, “You and your lost souls.”

“Are all the better for me. Jamie this is my big brother Mike. Mike, my new lost soul Jamie.”

He laughed and said, “Nice to meet you Jamie.”

“Uh likewise,” I replied.

“We still on for dinner tomorrow night sis?”

“Of course. Megs is closing up. But I won’t be out of here till at least 6:30, probably 7.”

“No problem. I have reservations at Wendy’s for two at 7:30.”

She laughed and gave him a peck on the cheek. I dreamily wished I had a relationship like hers.

“Be careful out there. They are calling for a bunch more storms to roll through yet, some could get nasty.”

“I always am Mikey.” She locked the door back up, blew him a kiss, and walked back over to me. “So, how about we put on a nice face and pretty those ragged nails of yours before I present you to your parents?”

Again I was reminded of the quote just in time for my face to flush.

“Thought so,” she stated before I could respond.

“I won’t complain if that is what you are asking,” I replied. “But you will take responsibility if my parents go ballistic.”

With a wide grin she procured a bunch of makeup and a nail kit with a bottle of a frosty bright peach nail polish. “Hmm. I think we will have to share it, don’t you?” The next thirty minutes or so she proceeded to do my nails, including my toes and makeup. “Nothing too dramatic,” she stated as she swung the chair around again for me to face the mirror.

I coughed at the lump in my throat, “This is not dramatic?” My lips were a bright orange. My eyelids were a matching color but mellower and the blush set everything off.

“Nope, not for a sixteen year old girl. Of course it will make a statement, but it is not dramatic. If I had wanted dramatic I would have done you up in reds and purples with all the glitter I could manage, which by the way would look gorgeous on you!”

I shook my head, again seeing the swish of hair now framing my face. “It will definitely make a statement.”

“Pshhh. A good and bold statement. You look cute but say I’m a girl and you know it.” She looked at her watch. “Ooo, it’s already been more than a hour and a half. We need to get you home.”

“Go to the back room and the locker on the far left has a change of clothes you can wear. They aren't quite the right size, but will work in a pinch.”

A little while later I walked back out in her clothes, an off-white scoop neck blouse, dark grey slacks and silver wedge sandals. “Um, how do I look?”

Amy looked at me with a huge grin, “Beautiful. I see the shoes fit as well.” I knew she purposely added the shoes comment to stow any remarks I would have at being called beautiful. “And you went with the bra too huh? Who’s being bold now?”

I looked at her in shock worried I had done something wrong. “Wasn't that okay?”

“Of course it is. I would have told you before hand if it wasn't. Good thing I don’t have much up top either.” Her last remark made me giggle.

“You have large feet for a girl,” I stated for the first time initiating conversation.

“9 ½, 10 in some,” her remark was tactfully stated with care then smiled at me. “Looks like you would do well in a 9 to 9 ½.”

I stopped at the mirror and looked at myself. I wouldn't call myself beautiful, but I did think I was kind of pretty. I looked mostly like a girl thanks to the makeup. I could even see a bit of my sister in the reflection.

“Enough gawking, we don’t have time for a primp session. I just called your mom and told her we were on our way.”

I almost froze before asking, “Do you really think my parents will accept me?”

She ushered me out the door arming the security. “Sweety, I know they will. Your parent’s aren't like mine.”

It took me about three steps before I stopped, realizing what she had said. “You mean…”

She leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Shh, it’s a secret.”

I turned my head and laughed as I noticed her eyes darting back and forth and her exaggerated facial expression. The nagging feeling I was missing something for the last hour had finally come to light.

“I’m only here thanks to Mikey,” she said thoughtfully ending that line of conversation.

We drove the ten minutes to my house. Conversation was extremely light as my nerves were balancing on the edge of a sous chef’s knife. We got out and walked to the door. I opened it and walked in with Amy holding my hand. All three of my family were there either sitting on the couch or standing.

Mandy immediately turned to mom, “See it wasn't me. It was Jamie!”

I looked over at mom the sullen feeling returning and wondering what I was being blamed for now. “What was me?” I felt Amy’s and tighten on mine.

“Messing with my makeup and going through my things.”

I immediately tensed for another argument. Only Amy’s hand kept me calm enough to respond appropriately. “Um. I've never touched your things, or Mandy’s. I guess that is a half lie. I haven’t touched anything outside of the washroom. I bought my own makeup.”

Moms expression changed from guilt to thought briefly before returning to the moment. “Well, that can be dealt with later. Come in.”

Amy and I carefully walked in. There was no expression of anger or shock on my parents face, just concern.

For the next two hours we talked. Amy sitting next to me the whole time. I was outed and by then everyone in the country that knew me either knew or would know when they woke up in the morning thanks to Mandy. That is once she went to bed an hour in.

Many things were brought out into the open, mostly about me. There were concerns, fears and the general ‘ugh’ in family discussions. All in all it went extremely well with mom and dad agreeing they will do whatever it took to help me be happy even if it was a huge shock.

For the first time in years I did not feel alone. I realized most of what was going on was only what I was perceiving and not what was actually being said or done. I knew I had a lot of work ahead of me, accurately listening to what was said and my own feelings.

During the conversation Amy somehow turned tide to me working and then offered me a part time job at her shop. I immediately accepted. That also meant I was going to need a car, but that would be dealt with later.

Amy got up to leave, “I have an early morning tomorrow, at least for me. Here is a card for my doctor and therapist as well as mine. They are really good. Just tell them I referred you and you will get in no problem. “

I nodded taking the business cards.

Mom and dad said their goodbyes.

“Okay, if you need anything give me a call. And I will see you next week at my shop.” She hugged and gave me a light kiss on the cheek and stepped back. “And make sure you are there early so we can get your hair done up properly. None of this wash out crap.”

I nodded my head only then realizing that nothing she had done was permanent.

“What? Do you think I would put a kid in a position like this without a way out for him or her? Sweety, if you would have said something, or I thought you couldn't handle it, I would have washed that stain right out of your hair.”

I nodded again with slight half real grin not sure if I was saddened that it was not permanent or glad it wasn't.

Her hand reached around and lightly thumped me on the forehead.

“What was that for,” I asked surprised?

“For acting depressed.” I shook my head as she lifted her hand back up and displayed her pinky. “Sisters?”

I smiled for real this time and brought my pinky to hers, “Sisters.” I pulled her in and grabbed her in a death grip bear hug. She returned the hug though with less abandon. I released her after a few moments and she walked to her car. With a wave she got in and drove off.

I looked at the clock. It read 12:55am. I shook my head and walked up the stairs yawning and thinking, “The longest six hours of my life. And the best rainy night a girl could have.” I smiled and cried with each step.