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A Blank Page
Chapter 16
By Flummox

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Rayne woke up early the next morning. She stared at the roof of her bedroom. How did she get here? She vaguely remembered the previous night. Running with Sebastian. Wiping out. Dozing off on the couch. Her dad carrying her to her room.

She sat up and looked at the clock. 6:23 am. Wow. She was up really early. She didn’t have to leave for school for over two hours. Well, it never hurt to get an early start. She threw off the blankets and set her feet on the floor.

She groaned when she saw what she was wearing. She was in her night gown. She didn’t remember changing. Did her Dad change her clothes for her? That would be really embarrassing. Super embarrassing. She turned a bright pink just thinking about it. Oh well. Nothing she could do now. She slowly stood up, testing her injured ankle. She clenched her teeth. It was still tender, she certainly wouldn’t be going running for a few days. Just walking was a challenge, but she could manage it.

She crept down the hall to the washroom, went through her usual morning routine, then returned to her room. She slowly walked over to her dresser and pulled out some of Raymond’s clothes. Just four more days and she could go back to being herself. She still had a lot of time though, so there was no need to imprison herself just yet. She threw the disguise on her bed and went to the closet. Smiling, she picked out a dress.

After dressing as herself, she sat down at her desk. Might as well do something productive, especially considering she didn’t get any studying done the night before. She opened her school bag from where she had tossed it on the floor the night before, pulled out some books and began to study.

About an hour and a half later a knock came on the door.

“You awake Rayne?” Her sister’s voice called out.

She jumped to her feet – Hissed at the pain that shot through her ankle – and hobble rushed to the door. Throwing it open, she grabbed her sister’s hand and pulled her inside, closing the door again behind her.

“Woah, well that clearly answers that.” Evalyn replied sleepily, “What’s got you in such a tizzy?”

“Last night.” Rayne began, then stopped and looked away.

“Last night?” Evalyn prompted.

“Um, last night, I uh… I don’t remember changing.” She blushed and looked at the floor.

Evalyn giggled, “Don’t worry. Dad didn’t strip you if that’s what you were thinking.”

Rayne sighed with relief, eliciting another giggle from Evalyn, which in turn caused Rayne to go a shade brighter.

“Dad carried you to your room.” Evalyn explained, “I followed him and managed to get you to wake up just long enough to change. I’m not surprised you don’t remember, you were pretty beat.”

Rayne nodded, “Okay thanks. I just, uh, needed to know how embarrassed I should be when I go downstairs.”

Evalyn laughed. “No worries, sis’. I’ll meet ya downstairs. I think Seb made eggs and bacon.”

“I’ll be right down.”

Evalyn departed, and Rayne finished getting ready. She packed up her bag, donned her disguise, and descended to the kitchen.
 

~o~O~o~
 
The morning passed by smoothly. Evalyn and Raymond drove to school together – as usual – and the first few classes went by easily. Raymond actually managed to focus. Maybe it was because there was less on his mind than the day before.

The bell rang, signalling lunch, and Raymond packed up his materials. He stopped by his locker to drop off his books and grab his lunch. He quickly walked towards the art room. After the second showing it had become customary for him to eat lunch outside the art room with Ryan and Cynthia. Some days one or both of them were busy, other days they were with other friends – they had invited him to join them with those friends, but he wasn’t really comfortable tagging along with people he didn’t know. On days like that he would either eat alone, or Ms. Mira would invite him to eat with her in the art room. Today Ryan and Cynthia were waiting for him.

When he walked around the corner they both jumped up. Cynthia started shaking her head furiously, whereas Ryan bit his lip and began to look back and forth between Raymond and… something inside the art room. Raymond furrowed his brow. That was weird. He kept walking, only for Cynthia to shake her head with even more fervor and begin to wave her hand at him, signalling for him to turn around. He stopped. He was close enough now that he could hear voices from inside the art room.

“It’s complicated.” He heard Ms. Mira say.

“I understand, but that’s not-

The familiar voice paused, and Cynthia glanced into the room before immediately stopping what she was doing. Ryan’s eyes went wide, and Cynthia’s jaw dropped and twisted into a look of total horror. A moment later a man stepped out into the hall, just ten feet in front of Raymond.

Raymond looked at the man, and the man stared back, confusion clear on his face.

“Berny?” Rayne’s voice slipped through Raymond’s lips.

Berny stood in front of her, the confusion shifting to absolute bewilderment at an unknown boy knowing his name. The bewilderment shifted to recognition at the sound of the voice, before finally finishing on realization.

Rayne’s hand slapped over her mouth as she realized the voice she had used.

“Rayne?” Berny asked after a moment.

Rayne’s eyes widened in fear. She quickly looked around to see who was in earshot.

Berny clicked his tongue as Ms. Mira appeared behind him.

“That would explain some things.” The old man said, rubbing his chin.

Ms. Mira, seeing Rayne, grimaced.

“Sorry Ray,” she apologized, “I tried, but…” She trailed off.

“Rayne,” Berny began to say something, but stopped as Rayne looked around worriedly.

“Perhaps it would be better to continue this conversation inside my room?” Ms. Mira suggested, also taking note of Rayne’s growing panic.

“I think that would be wise.” Berny agreed, waving for Rayne to join them.

Woodenly, Rayne limped past him into the art room, wishing she had followed Cynthia’s signals. Cynthia tried to follow them into the room, but Ms. Mira closed the door on her. The three of them walked to and sat down at one of the art tables usually used by the students.

“W- Why are you here?” Rayne asked stiffly, heart frozen by the unexpected encounter.

“We were going over some paperwork for the event,” Berny explained, “And I happened to notice that there was no ‘Rayne Danahy’ registered with not just your school district, but with any school district in the province. It’s surprising no one noticed before now.”

Rayne looked at her feet, unable to meet the man’s eyes.

“I was in town today,” Berny went on to explain, “And I thought I would stop by to clear things up. I thought it must be a simple mistake. Perhaps your name was spelt wrong in our files. I’m beginning to think that’s not the case, is it?”

Rayne’s lip trembled. “N- no sir. It’s not a m- mistake.” She forced herself to look at him. “M- my name isn’t R- Rayne. It’s R-

Tears started running down her cheeks.

“It’s Raymond.” She managed to choke out. It hurt to say it. It felt like a lie, but as far as the world was concerned, it was the truth.

Berny nodded silently.

“I’m so, so sorry for lying to you.” She stressed, making a vain attempt to wipe away her tears, “I’ll withdraw from the event right away.”

“Why on earth would you do that?” Berny asked immediately.

Rayne just stared at him.

“Rayne.” Berny said slowly, “I’m an old man, so please forgive me and correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re transgender. Correct?”

Rayne blushed and gave a small nod, again unable to meet his eyes.

“My dear,” he said softly, “The arts community is hardly going to fault you for that. You have worked so hard to make it into the gallery. You are very talented, and it would be a tragedy for you to drop out now.”

Rayne looked up hesitantly, “R- Really?” She asked between sniffles.

“Some of the greatest artists of the century were LGBTQ.” Berny said adamantly. “And their work spreads across many mediums and disciplines.”

Rayne’s listened silently, completely rapt by what she was hearing.

“David Hockney! Andy Warhol! Zackary Drucker! Annie Leibovitz! George Takei! Catherine Opie! Zanele Muholi! Film, photography, painting, drawing, dance, music, theatre. There are celebrated masters in all of these fields who identify as some aspect of LGBTQ.”

“Is that true?” Rayne asked, turning to look at her teacher. Ms. Mira nodded.

“Damn right it’s true.” Berny said insistently, “I’ve met some of these people. Count them as my friends.”

“Wait, really?” Now it was Ms. Mira’s turn to be surprised. She looked to the old man. “You’ve met some of them? I don’t recognize all the names, but some…”

Berny chuckled. “I’m an old man Mira, and I’ve been working in the arts for a long, long time. I’ve been around.”

“I wasn’t doubting you Berny.” She said with a small chuckle, “I’m just impressed. David Hockney and Andy Warhol are world famous.”

“Yeah! And I don’t think there’s a single person in the school who wouldn’t know George Takei’s name!” Rayne chipped in with a sniffle, tears momentarily forgotten, “And in art class last year we did an entire project based off of Andy Warhol and his work!”

Berny smiled sadly, “Yes, he was a great man. Gone much too early.”

“You knew him?!” Ms. Mira asked excitedly.

Berny nodded, “Not well, I was a much younger man when I knew him. I was much more cynical at the time, and I had a much more traditional view on what art should be. Andy Warhol, as I’m sure you both know, was a revolutionary. He was one of the founding fathers of pop art, a form of art that challenged the traditions I was so bound to at the time. I realized my foolishness before he passed, but I never had another chance to meet him.”

There was a moment of silence.

“S- so, um, who else do you know?” Rayne asked hesitantly.

Berny smiled at her. “Enough listening to an old man reminisce. I can tell stories later. We need to talk about you, young lady.”

Rayne blushed.

“So, as I was saying before my tangent,” Berny continued with a smile, “Your orientation is not much of an issue. I would have preferred you told the truth from the beginning, but I get the impression this is largely still a secret.”

Rayne gave a small nod.

“May I ask who does know?” He asked gently.

“Well, uh, you now of course.” Rayne glanced from Berny to Ms. Mira and back again, “At school there’s Ms. Mira, Ms. Reid – that’s the student councillor – and the two students outside.”

“Ryan and Cynthia if I recall.” Berny provided.

Rayne nodded, “Yeah, then there’s one friend of mine from outside of school, and, uh, after this past weekend, my immediate family too.”

“You told your family Rayne?!” Ms. Mira asked eagerly, “That’s great! How did it go?”

“Really well.” She replied softly. “Not according to plan at all, but really well regardless. They’re all super supportive.”

“That’s wonderful.” Berny said, “I must apologize for my earlier… insensitivity. I was taken off guard and didn’t think. I hope this doesn’t cause you any problems.”

His earlier insensitivity? Oh. He was referring to calling her by her name in the halls.

“It’s okay Berny.” Rayne said lightly, “You didn’t know. And like you said, you were taken off guard. Besides, earlier I lied when I said my real name was Raymond. My real name IS Rayne.” She couldn’t stop the smile from creeping across her face.

Berny chuckled, “Well in that case I guess you never lied to begin with!”

Rayne looked at him, confused.

“The art gallery never asked for your gender.” Berny explained with a big smile, “We only asked for your name, school, and some of your work. If your real name is Rayne than you were telling the truth. We assumed your gender. We just assumed wrong.”

Rayne laughed freely.

“Now, on a serious note.” Berny continued, “This will not impede you moving forward with the gallery. Unfortunately, because you are underage, we will need to adjust your records to show your legal name – no matter how false it might be.”

Rayne pursed her lips, then replied, “Who, um, who all would, uh, know?”

Berny nodded in understanding, “It’s not something we would shout from the rooftops if that’s what you mean. All of your work would still be labeled ‘Rayne Danahy’. The only people who would know would be the people who need to know, people with administrative duties. Those who have access to the files would have the ability to find out, but only if they took the time to look it up. People with such access is limited to the judges, and those with a direct professional link to the Mountsview art gallery.”

“A professional link?” Rayne asked.

“Yes, let me elaborate.” Berny continued, “These would be people within such organizations as the Canadian Artists’ Representation, the National Gallery of Canada, the Canadian Council for the Arts, the National Arts Centre, and so on.”

Rayne hesitated. “Th- that’s, uh, a lot of- of organizations.”

Berny nodded, “Yes, it is. But keep in mind, all of the organizations I just listed are national organizations.”

“Why… would n- national organizations be interested in m- me?” She asked nervously.

Berny smiled, “I mean no offense when I say this. But that’s exactly my point. You’re a high school student whose only recognition was in an art event based in a small town. They wouldn’t be interested. Not yet at least.”

Rayne sighed with relief.

“The most you would have to be concerned with is the Vancouver Art Gallery, with whom the Mountsview gallery is closely associated. Even that is highly unlikely however.” Berny finished.

Rayne nodded and grinned, “Cuz I’m just a small time, small town, high school girl who likes to play with paints and crayons, right?”

Berny chuckled. “Correct, although I’d hardly call your work ‘playing with paints’. So, if all of your concerns have been addressed shall I go ahead filing those changes?”

Rayne hesitated for another moment before nodding and quickly adding, “But only if you tell us some more stories.”

Berny laughed, “It would be my pleasure. Perhaps Ryan and Cynthia would like to join us?”

Rayne grinned and hobbled to the door. She opened it and waved her friends in.

At the insistence of everyone present, Rayne explained why she was limping. After that, the remainder of lunch was spent being regaled with the many stories of Berny’s history in art. Stories of the people he had met, the places he had been, and the art he had seen. All too soon it was time for class to begin, and Berny, Ryan, and Cynthia departed. Art class slipped by much too fast, and soon Rayne was sitting down in her next class. Religious studies.

Rayne didn’t mind Religion class. She might not agree with everything that was said there, but she didn’t always pay attention either. Religion class was simple enough that she could get away with barely listening, in fact, she often spent the class doodling in her sketch book. She was still in Rayne mode too, but she wasn’t worried. As long as she didn’t speak – and she usually didn’t in religion – everything would be fine. So, she sat down and began to draw. Soon class began and the instructor, Mrs. Cimonie, began to teach. Rayne made sure to glance up at the instructor every now and again, to try and give the impression of an interested student, but her sketchbook was the main focus of her attention.

Class continued easily for some time. It was beginning to wind down, and many students were packing up. Mrs. Cimonie walked to the door and picked up a small cardboard box by the entrance. It was the question box. It was a cardboard box that had been painted white with a big cross on the front. On the top of the lid was a small slit. The idea was that students could submit questions anonymously, and at the end of the class Mrs. Cimonie would address them. It provided students with an outlet for any questions they were too shy or embarrassed to ask personally or in front of the class. It was most commonly used during the period of the year when students were also taking sex ed., but there were occasionally questions during the rest of the year as well.

“Ah, I see a question in the question box today!” Mrs. Cimonie stated happily. She picked up and unfolded the piece of paper. After clearing her throat, she began to read.

“Yesterday I was walking past Ms. Reid’s office after lunch and I overheard a conversation she was having on the phone. I heard her talking about a student who was struggling with gender issues, and might be transgender.”

Rayne paled. She froze. Her chest tightened. That could only be her. She had had an appointment with Ms. Reid during lunch. Who else could it be?

Mrs. Cimonie continued reading, “My question is how does that work with Christianity and the Catholic Church?”

She paused for a long moment. Rayne could barely breathe. She forced herself to move. To continue packing her bag to avoid looking suspicious.

“Well.” Mrs. Cimonie began, putting one hand on her hip, “That’s a tough question, but I think all of you are mature enough. The transgender crisis is certainly a tragedy. Those, um, people need our prayers. They’re not natural.”

Rayne clenched her jaw. She closed her eyes and focused on staying calm.

“They have something evil inside of them, that leads to their urges to dress and act as they shouldn’t. When they go through with making changes to their bodies, to mutilating themselves, they are embracing that evil and letting Satan take over. The way you are now is how God created you. It is how God intended you to be.”

Rayne’s lip trembled. She was struggling to hold back tears. She had to force herself not to run. If she ran or cried everyone would know. She wanted to puke.

“If anyone here is the person Ms. Reid was talking about, or if you think you might know that person.”

She looked around dramatically.

“Then I would urge you to see – or to urge this person to see – a priest. Regardless of whether you know them or not, I would also implore you to pray for these wretched souls, that they find the light and rejoin us on the righteous path. We’ll end class there for today. Have a good night.”

Rayne held herself in place. Rooted to her chair. If she stood she’d run. She needed to be calm. Normal. She waited for most of the students to leave. Pretending to be focused on something on her phone. Finally, once most everyone was gone, she left. She forced herself to move at a normal pace, at least until she was out the door. Then she bolted for her locker, ignoring her protesting ankle. She grabbed her bag and stuffed her books inside, then swiftly ducked out one of the school’s side doors. She avoided the front doors as it would mean passing the office, where the secretary would inevitably ask her why she was leaving with two classes left in the day.

Once outside she began to walk. She also began to cry. But right now, she just needed to get home. Where people didn’t hate her. Where they didn’t think she was evil or possessed.

She had only made it a quarter of the way when the pain in her ankle began to overwhelm the panic. She kept going, trying to push past the pain, but soon she found herself limping heavily. She sat down on the edge of the sidewalk, tears still streaming down her face – now as much from physical pain as emotional pain. She pulled out her phone. Sebastian and Evalyn would still be in class, her Mom still at work. If she was lucky her Dad would be home. She found his contact and pressed call.

It rang, and rang some more. Finally, she heard her father’s voice. His voicemail. She hung up without leaving a message. She let out one big sob and pushed herself to her feet. She continued to slowly limp down the street.

She had gone maybe ten feet when her phone rang. She glanced at the screen. Hey eyes were too watery to see who it was. She answered it.

“H- h- hello?” She asked, trying to keep the sobs out of her voice.

“Rayne?!” It was her Dad. “Are you okay?!”

“Daaaaddy,” she wailed, overjoyed to hear his voice. She collapsed back on to the sidewalk. “C- c- can you come g- get me?”

“Baby, calm down.” He said, worry lacing his voice. “Are you at school?”

“N- no. I’m…” She looked around, she had to wipe the tears from her eyes and adjust her glasses to get her bearings. “I’m j- just by the- by the corner store. Near the lake. P- please come get me. I’m s- I’m sorry Dad.”

“Rayne, sweetie, calm down. I’ll be right there okay? I’m at the office, but don’t move, and I’ll be right there.”

They hung up. Rayne covered her face with her hands. If her dad was at the office than that meant it would be a 20-minute drive. But it was okay. He was coming.

A few minutes passed. She managed to dry her tears for the most part. She was still sniffling, and the tears still threatened to overflow at any moment, but at least she wasn’t bawling her head off.

“Uh, hey.” A voice called out.

Rayne’s head whipped around.

Standing a few feet down the sidewalk was a slightly overweight, middle aged man. Rayne recognized him as the owner of the corner store. She and her siblings frequented the place during the summer.

“You’re, uh,” He snapped his fingers in the air a few times, looking for her name, “Raymond! That’s it. You’re Raymond, right? Jameson and Catalina’s youngest.”

Rayne nodded jerkily. Even if only half the statement was true. She was Jameson and Catalina’s youngest, but she was NOT Raymond.

“Is, uh, is everything okay kid?” He asked hesitantly.

She wanted to say yes, to get him to leave, but she couldn’t talk right now. Her lip trembled. She gave a small nod.

“Okay, well, uh, whatever you’re waiting for, do you wanna wait inside?” He pointed over his shoulder.

She didn’t know how to respond. Thankfully, she was saved from having to answer. The sound of a vehicle came roaring in the distance. A moment later her father’s truck ripped around the corner. It had been just over 10 minutes. Clearly, he had been speeding. It pulled up next to the curve, and Jameson leapt from the cab and rushed over to her as she struggled to her feet. Just the sight of him, of her father rushing to protect her, was enough to set her off. She started sobbing again as he threw his arms around her. The store keeper just stared at them, befuddled.

“Are you okay?” Jameson asked gently.

She sobbed into his chest. “C- class, and the- the t- tea- teacher, and, and I’m- I’m evil, and th- then I j- I just left, b- b- but then my aaaankle.”

“I know. I know.” Jameson said soothingly, despite not having the faintest clue what she was talking about.

“I’m so sorry D- Dad.” She sobbed.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He said firmly. He effortlessly scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to his truck. The store owner rushed to open the door for him, where he gently sat her down in the passenger seat. After the door closed, Rayne could vaguely make out the two men briefly exchanging words and a quick handshake before Jameson walked to the driver’s side and climbed in.

He slipped the truck into drive and slowly pulled away from the curve. Rayne stared out the window for the short drive, not knowing what to say. They pulled up to the house, and – despite her protests that she could walk – Jameson picked her up in his arms once again. He carried her to the door, opened it with some small difficulty, and brought them into the house where he gently deposited her onto the sofa.

“I’ll be right back.” He said gently, “Don’t go anywhere.”

She smiled wetly and nodded. He disappeared into the kitchen. Rayne closed her eyes and looked back on the day. What an emotional rollercoaster the entire past week had been. It was so exhausting. How could some people be so kind and accepting? So loving when other people were so filled with hate? Mrs. Cimonie’s words ran through her mind once again. She wasn’t really evil, was she? How was it hurting anyone for her to just be herself?

*Bzzz*

Her phone signaled the arrival of a message. She glanced at the screen. It was Evalyn.

Omg. I just heard from dad. R u okay? What happened?

Jameson walked back into the room with two mugs.

“I told Eva that you were home and that she didn’t have to wait for you.” He said as he set the mugs down on the coffee table.

Rayne nodded and held up her phone to show him the message. He chuckled.

“Why am I not surprised?” he asked as he pulled an ice pack from under his arm. He gently lifted her leg and placed it on top of the ice pack, which in turn was on top of a footrest. He sat down next to her and offered her a mug.

“Hot chocolate?” He announced. “Makes everything better.”

She giggled and took a sip. It was the perfect temperature too. He must have added milk to cool it. She collapsed into him, leaning into his large form. He hesitated, only for a moment, before wrapping an arm around her protectively.

“Do you… do you want to talk about it?” he asked hesitantly.

Rayne sat there for a long moment. Staring into her drink. Her father had never been the person Raymond had gone to for talks about his feelings. Raymond always got the impression that it made his father uncomfortable. If he needed to talk he’d go to his mom, or more likely Evalyn. Occasionally Sebastian. Rayne DID want to talk, she needed someone to tell her that Mrs. Cimonie was wrong. That Rayne wasn’t evil. But right now neither of her siblings, nor her mother, were here. Her father was. Her interactions with her father as Rayne had been very limited so far, they hadn’t spent any time together – just the two of them – since she came out to him. He had been very warm and supporting so far, and he had dropped everything to rush to her side at her call.

“O- okay.” She agreed hesitantly.

“What happened?” Jameson asked gently, squeezing her close.

“I was in religion class.” She began miserably, “Mrs. Cimonie checked the question box, and- and there was a question.” She sniffled.

“Okay, what was the question?” Jameson asked, although he had a feeling he knew where this was going.

“Th- the question was asking about trans people and the church.” She said quietly. She shrunk into him.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Rayne collecting her thoughts, mustering the will to continue. Jameson patiently waiting for her to be ready.

“Sh- she said that- that trans people were-

She choked back a sob.

“She said they evil.” She continued, voice barely above a whisper. “That by being trans they were inviting S- S- Satan into them.”

She closed her eyes and waited for his reply. What if he agreed with Rayne’s instructor? What if he thought she was evil? A long minute passed by. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. She opened her eyes and twisted around to look at her father.

His nostrils were flared up, and his lips curled into a look of disgust. His jaw was trembling and his eyebrows sunk low over his eyes. His eyes themselves were strained tight.

It scared her. Her father had always been a very calm, measured man. He might raise his voice, but that was the closest he ever came to truly being angry with Rayne or her siblings. Sometimes he could be insensitive, or ignorant, but so could anyone.

“I- I’m sorry Daddy- I mean, um, Dad.” Rayne burst, suddenly frantic to calm him down, “M- Maybe I should s- see a priest l- like my t- teacher said.”

His face melted, “Oh no, no, Rayne. I’m not angry with you. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Y- you’re not?” She whimpered.

“No sweetie, never.” He said, pulling her into his arms.

“But you ARE angry?” Rayne asked hesitantly.

Jameson pursed his lips.

“The thought of that woman,” He seethed, “Of that woman telling you such a thing. The thought of ANYONE telling my little girl that she’s evil. Simply for trying to be herself? For trying to be happy? Who the FUCK is she to make such accusations?”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry sweetie,” He said when he opened his eyes, “Here I am getting carried away, when you’re the one who had to suffer through it.”

She wrapped her arms around him. “You’re the best.” She said softly.

He hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead. “Nah, I just do my best.”

They spent a few minutes in each other’s arms. Finally, Jameson leaned back and looked her in the eyes, “How about a movie?” He suggested.

She giggled, and after a moments hesitation, replied.

“That sounds really nice.”

Taking note of her hesitation, he looked at her suspiciously, “But?”

She sucked in her cheeks. “But first I NEED to get out of these yucky clothes.”

He burst into laughter. “Okay, that’s fair. I suppose I would have a hard time being comfortable if I was forced to wear a dress.”

Rayne giggled again, “That would be quite the sight.”

“Do you need a hand to your room?” He asked.

“By a hand,” Rayne began slowly, “Do you mean for you to carry me like a sack of potatoes again?”

He grinned, “If that’s what it takes.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes. Hesitantly, she lifted her injured foot and put it on the floor. She tested it with some weight, then slowly stood.

“I think I’ll be good for the short trip.” She said, slowly taking a few steps. She still had a bit of a limp, but it wasn’t as bad as it was on her way home.

“Okay then, just call if my sack of potatoes needs a hand.” He teased, standing up and returning to the kitchen.

She slowly walked to her room, leaning heavily on the railing on her way up the stairs. She sat down on her bed and spent a moment massaging her ankle. Then she slowly undressed, stripping off the prison that was her school clothes. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, basking in the rush of freedom that came from stripping of her disguise. Opening her eyes, she reached to the end of her bedframe where she had draped the dress from this morning. She pulled it towards her and slowly slipped into it.

It was a dark grey, sleeveless dress, completely plain except for some pretty lace stitching around the bodice. Its length was fairly standard as far as Rayne’s wardrobe went, beginning just below her neck and ending just below her knees. She left her feet bare and slowly stood to return to her father’s side.

She walked into the living room. Her father was back on the couch, right where they had been sitting before. A heaping bowl of popcorn now sat on the table in front of him, and the tv was paused on the opening scene of the first Lord of the Rings movie.

“I know you’ve changed a lot.” Jameson began. He hesitated for a moment before continuing, “Or maybe it’s not that you’ve changed, but we’re finally seeing the real you. I don’t know. But I, uh, I hope your taste in movies hasn’t changed.”

She smiled, “Raymond’s love of fantasy was definitely genuine.” She nodded her head at the screen, “Still my favorite.”

Jameson visibly relaxed. The Lord of the Rings was one of the few things Jameson and Raymond had had in common. Jameson had read the books when he was a child, and had given his copies to Sebastian when he learned to read, but he had never shown much of an interest. Evalyn’s interest in books was usually academic. Both thought the movies were good, but it was Raymond who had truly been captivated by the stories of Middle-earth. From the day he was old enough for them to be appropriate reading material – he was engrossed in them. They were his stepping stones into the world of fantasy, and later on, video games. He had used them as a source of inspiration in his art as well, not that anyone would know.

Jameson patted the couch next to him – where Rayne had been sitting before – and she wasted no time reclaiming her seat. She angled herself in such a way where she could lean against Jameson, resting her head on his shoulder, while simultaneously replacing her ankle on the ice pack.

“Ready?” Jameson asked.

“I’m always ready for some Tolkien.” She replied matter-of-factly.

He pressed play.
 

~o~O~o~
 
When Evalyn arrived home from school she found them sitting together watching the movie, Rayne’s head still resting on their father’s shoulder. She opened her mouth to say something – but was silenced by a small shake of Jameson’s head. Instead, she simply put away her things and joined them for the movie. When Sebastian arrived home, he opened his mouth to speak, but was promptly guided away by Evalyn. When they returned, he simply collapsed onto the love seat and focused on the movie. Evalyn returned to her own chair.

When the movie ended everyone turned to look at Rayne.

“Bored of Tolkien yet?” Jameson asked Rayne.

She giggled and quipped, “I don’t know what you’re Tolkien about! As if that could ever happen.”

Jameson gave a long hard laugh at the pun, Evalyn chuckled and shook her head, Sebastian face-palmed. Without another word, Jameson walked over to the entertainment system. He removed the disk for ‘The Fellowship of the Ring’, and inserted the second movie in the trilogy, ‘The Two Towers’.

They were half an hour into the movie when Catalina got home. She walked in with two boxes of pizza.

“I know you’re watching a movie,” She said in greeting, “But can you take a five-minute break to grab some dinner?”

“How ‘bout it?” Jameson asked, looking at Rayne.

She nodded, “Yeah, I could eat.”

Jameson nodded and the four of them went to join Catalina in the kitchen. Everyone grabbed a plate and a slice or two of pizza, before returning to the living room. Jameson didn’t hit play though.

“Can we talk for a few minutes first?” He asked Rayne, who grimaced, but nodded.

“So, um, what happened today?” Evalyn asked, “I just got a message from Dad saying that you came home early.”

“That’s what Dad told you?” Sebastian asked, raising an eyebrow, “You messaged me that something was seriously wrong with Rayne.”

Evalyn rolled her eyes. “Something obviously WAS seriously wrong if it was enough for Rayne to leave early.”

The two of them looked at Rayne expectantly, Rayne looked at Catalina.

“All your father told me was that a teacher said something,” She began carefully, “and it scared you.”

Rayne nodded slowly. “That about sums it up.” She looked down at her plate, “I guess I kinda overreacted, huh?” She glanced at her father hesitantly.

Jameson shook his head, “Not in the slightest. You’re going through a lot right now, it was understandable.”

“Wait,” Sebastian said, raising his eyebrows, “Something a TEACHER said caused this?”

Rayne nodded, “Ya know how all the religion teachers have those question boxes?”

Everyone nodded. Sebastian and Evalyn had first hand experience, and their parents had been told stories before.

“W- well, I guess after Mom, Dad, and I had our meeting with Ms. Reid yesterday, she was on the phone scheduling our appointment for Saturday. She must’ve forgotten to close the door, or didn’t think to or something, and a student in my religion class heard her on the phone. They heard her talking about a student with gender issues who might be transgender. From the sound of things, whoever it was didn’t hear any names, but they put a question in the question box. They asked how that worked with Christianity and being Catholic.”

“And what did she say?” Catalina asked, an edge slipping into her voice.

“Sh- she said that trans people have those feelings because they’re- because they’re evil. Or have something evil inside them. And that if they act on them, if they make changes to their body, then they’re welcoming Satan into their soul. Letting him take over.”

The family sat in silence for a long minute, digesting what she had just said.

“So, what did you do?” Evalyn asked.

“I forced myself to sit through the last few minutes of class.” Rayne said with a shrug, “What else could I do? Anything else would be suspicious. Then, as soon as I was alone, I freaked out and left.”

“Did you ‘freak’ because of what she said, honey?” Catalina asked, “Because you know she’s full of shit, right?”

Rayne giggled at her mother’s bluntness. The whole family did.

“I’m serious though,” Catalina said gently, “You know she’s wrong, right? You are NOT evil.”

Rayne nodded. “At the time, no. I was in a panic and not thinking straight. But yeah, now that I’ve calmed down, I know Mom. What she said really bothered me, but I know she’s wrong. She’s just a bigot. It’s probably not even her fault, she was probably raised her whole life thinking that way. What really scared me,” She continued slowly, “was the thought that I might be outed. Whoever wrote that question could have easily heard my name too. What if they tell someone?”

No one had an immediate answer for that.

“Well, if anything good came of this,” Rayne continued when no one answered her, “It’s that I sure as hell don’t wanna go to school as me anymore.”

She expected her parent’s to be happy about that, instead they both frowned.

“Sweetie, why would that be a good thing?” Jameson asked softly.

Rayne shrugged, “You and Mom don’t want me to. Now we’re all on the same thought process.”

“Rayne, sweetheart, it’s not that we don’t want you to.” Catalina explained, “It’s that we’re afraid for you to.”

Rayne’s brow knitted itself together. “You’re afraid? Why?”

“Because of people like her.” Jameson answered, Catalina nodding in agreement, “Not everyone is as accepting and supportive as our family. There are people out there who would hurt you – or say horrible things about you – just for being different. In a perfect world, you would be able to go to school dressed however you wanted without anyone batting an eye.”

“In a perfect world,” Rayne said slowly, “I just would have been born with the right body. But I understand what you’re saying now Dad.”

He nodded, “Now, unless anyone has anything else to add, shall we return to the movie?” No one argued, and the play button was pressed.

At some point during the movie Catalina and Sebastian both pulled out their laptops, and Evalyn her school books. When the movie ended, Jameson just said that they couldn’t leave the trilogy incomplete and popped in the third movie. Rayne didn’t argue. Catalina, Sebastian and Evalyn didn’t stick around for the third, they were all Tolkien’d out. When the third movie ended, it was just past midnight. Jameson declared it to be bedtime, and Rayne did not argue. The impromptu movie marathon had gone on for just over 9 hours.

Rayne managed to make it to her bedroom by herself, her ankle feeling much better than when she got home. She changed into her pyjamas, and collapsed into bed.
 

~o~O~o~
 
Rayne walked into school the next day, ready for class. She wasn’t going to let what was said yesterday bother her. So, clad in the armor that was Raymond’s identity, she marched to her locker. Slowly she realized that something was different. Her bravado was quickly fading. Was it just her, or were people staring at her? Staring in a bad way. Amusement. Disgust. Distain. Revulsion.

Laughter.

She whipped around. Derek Pilsing stood there. Her interactions with him had thankfully been very limited so far this year.

“What do you want Derek?” She asked, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

“Nothing.” He said, a smarmy niceness dripping from his voice. A fake smile plastered across his face.

Rayne turned to leave. She had to get to class.

“Tranny.”

She whipped back around.

“Wh- what did you say?” She asked, wide eyed and terrified.

People were laughing all around them. Staring at her and laughing with hate filled eyes.

“You’ll never be a girl.” He whispered in her ear, somehow – impossibly – he was standing behind her. “You’ll never be more than a tranny. A guy walking around in a dress.”

She screamed-

And bolted awake.

She was soaked in sweat. Breath short and ragged.

It was a dream. Just a dream.

A nightmare was a more apt description.

She got out of bed and walked to the washroom. She splashed cold water on her face and scrubbed the tears from her eyes. Fuck. Did a day ever pass without her crying? The day hadn’t even begun and she was in tears. She sighed heavily. Just a dream. Just a dream. She just had to keep telling herself that. The fear would go away. She drank a big glass of water and returned to her room. She glanced at her alarm clock. 4:45. Much too early to get up. She had only been asleep for four and a half hours. She looked at her bed with disgust, as if it was its fault, as if her bed had betrayed her.

She changed out of her sweaty nightie. Damn. She needed more pyjamas. She hadn’t even thought to buy more when they were out shopping Sunday. Frowning, she climbed back into bed naked. Slowly, she drifted back to sleep. Hoping and praying for a more restful sleep.
 

~o~O~o~
 
She woke up to her alarm the next morning, grumpy and bleary eyed. She smacked the snooze button and rolled over. Five minutes later she smacked it again. And once more after another five.

Finally, a knock came on the door.

“Planning on hitting snooze all morning, Rayne?” Sebastian’s voice rang out.

She grumbled to herself and clambered to the edge of the bed. She was not ready to start the day. Not in the slightest. She heaved a heavy sigh and stood up. Slowly she dressed herself and descended to the kitchen. She didn’t even bother with a shower. She just didn’t have the willpower today.

When she walked into the kitchen, both of her siblings and her father stared at her.

“What?” She mumbled, taking a seat and slumping her head into her hands.

“Uhhhh,” Evalyn began, “how do I put this.”

“You look horrible.” Sebastian finished for her.

Evalyn gave him a dirty look.

Rayne was un-phased. “I feel horrible.”

“You feel sick?” Jameson asked, concerned.

“No. Not sick.” Rayne answered, the nightmare replaying in her mind, “Just horrible. Like I have no energy. No willpower.”

“Why don’t you stay home today.” Jameson suggested.

She lifted her head from her hands to stare at him, “Really?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. If you feel like that you won’t be able to focus anyways. You’ll be alone most of the day though. Just remember, no internet, no video games. Just because I’m giving you the day off doesn’t mean you’re not grounded.”

“O- okay.” She said, “I could really use some alone time anyways.”

Jameson nodded in understanding.

“I’m gonna go back to bed then.” She said, climbing to her feet.

“I’ll call the school and let them know you won’t be there.” Jameson said.
 

~o~O~o~
 
Rayne spent the day in quiet contemplation. She spent a few hours drawing in her sketchbook, some time reading, and sometime just sitting in the backyard. She did some laundry and even managed to do at least some studying. She wouldn’t allow herself to fall behind again. When the day ended she found herself feeling revitalized, and went to bed for a peaceful sleep. The rest of the school week went by blessedly peacefully. Stories of Mrs. Cimonie’s lecture had spread throughout the whole school, and it turned out the Rayne was not the only student made uncomfortable by it. Jameson and Catalina, in turn, were not the only parents to be outraged. Numerous complaints had been filed about the issue, and Mrs. Cimonie’s classes were taught by substitute teachers for the rest of the week. On top of that, due to her sprained ankle, Rayne was excused from gym class until she recovered. The class was replaced with a free study period for the time being. This suited her just fine as she had a lot on her plate catching up for being distracted and then absent for the first few days of the week, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. She was more pleased with how it would assist her in avoiding Mr. McMan when he came back next week.

The family was sitting down for dinner Friday night, Rayne’s stomach a bundle of nerves for the next day’s appointment.

“So, there is something we need to discuss about tomorrow.” Jameson began.

“Okay shoot.” Rayne replied.

Catalina and Jameson shared a look. Clearly this was something they had discussed.

“Tomorrow night we’ve been asked over to Grandpa and Grandma’s for a family dinner.” Catalina said.

“Okaaaay,” Rayne said, not yet seeing where this was going.

“And your mother and I think,” Jameson continued, “That it would be for the best to tell the family about you sooner rather than later.”

Rayne set down her fork, suddenly losing her appetite. “You mean you wanna tell them tomorrow.”

Jameson nodded, “Yes. But we wanted to give you a choice.”

Rayne looked at them. “Is not telling them one of my options?”

Catalina gave her a sad smile. “No. You know that can’t go on for long. If you want to live as Rayne, then the rest of the family needs to know. We need to rip off the band-aid.”

“What’s my choice then?” Rayne asked hesitantly.

“Well,” Catalina continued, “After your meeting with Dr. Mathews, you can either come with us to your grandparents and we’ll tell them together. Or, we’ll drop you off at Logan’s for dinner. Your father and I will go to dinner and tell them, then pick you up afterwards. You can wait to see them until they’ve had a chance to process the information. “

“We’ve already cleared it with Logan’s parents.” Jameson quickly added.

“What about Seb and Eva? What are they gonna do?” Rayne asked.

“If you want to tell the family together, then they will come along to support you.” Catalina answered, “If you go to Logan’s then just your father and I will go to dinner.

Rayne nodded slowly and spent a minute thinking about it.

“I- I’m not ready to face them as me.” She finally said quietly, “Can I please just go to Logan’s?”

“Of course.” Catalina replied immediately.

The rest of the night was uneventful. Rayne found she couldn’t focus on anything. Her stomach was tied in knots and her mind a whirl. So much was on the line, what would tomorrow bring?

---

---

Hello my friends,

Flummox here.

First, apology time. There was no chapter last week, and I am very sorry for that. It was a busy week, and I just couldn’t find the time. I hope you’ll forgive me.

Second, a bit of an announcement.

A few weeks ago, I mentioned in a comment that Rayne’s story still had a lot to be told, and I wasn’t lying. I have a lot planned. However, A Blank Page will be coming to an end soon. Rayne’s story will continue, and likely finish, in a second installment. I never planned for this, it was originally going to be just one story, but I also never expected it to evolve into what it has become. The main reason for this is that I’m currently posting chapters faster than I’m writing them, and I’d rather end this installment and start another than go on hiatus or begin posting sporadically. On top of that – like I already mentioned – this has become more then I ever thought it would. It wouldn’t be a stretch to call it a novel now, rather than just a story. It just feels weird for me to call it that. ^_^;;

So yeah, I wanted to let anyone who’s been following my story know this in advance, so it won’t be a shock when it suddenly ends. I’m really sorry if this disappoints any of you, I hope you’ll forgive me, and I’ll try to make it up to you with the best story I can.

As always, thanks for reading and commenting. I’d love to hear from you whether it’s in the form of a comment or a message. I make an effort to reply to everything, although it sometimes takes me a few days, or even weeks. I get distracted easily. ;P

I am eternally grateful for all the faith you have placed in me,

Flummox