I had been taking hormone pills that I had bought on the internet for about 6 months now. Things had been easy to hide for the first few months, nothing major happened. Hell, I haven’t even told my parents yet. How can I tell them? I mean, what would I start by saying?

“Hey mum, hey dad, I’m not your son, I’m really your daughter despite being born a boy and being called Mark.”

Doesn’t sound too logical does it?

Homework
Chapter 1 — New Term
by Alyssa Plant

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I guess id better explain. My name is Mark, and I’m a girl. Well, I should be. I guess if we are being true to stories like this, my real name is Hannah. I’ve always felt like a girl… yada yada yada… you know how it goes right? Good, So ill skip the usual crap and actually tell you what happened to me.

It had been a whole 3 months since I had been back to school. Summer break was over, I’d be starting 6th form today.

I had been taking hormone pills that I had bought on the internet for about 6 months now. Things had been easy to hide for the first few months, nothing major happened. Hell, I haven’t even told my parents yet. How can I tell them? I mean, what would I start by saying?

“Hey mum, hey dad, I’m not your son, I’m really your daughter despite being born a boy and being called Mark.”

Doesn’t sound too logical does it?

Well things sort of happened over summer. I lost a lot of weight. I gained weight in some places… like my chest, my bum, my thighs. I generally have what one would casually describe as a girl’s figure. I know what you’re thinking now… Typical tranny story… the protagonist looks like a girl but nobody else notices…. Well that’s a lie. My sister noticed, my mum noticed, my friends I saw over the summer noticed. Most told me I was looking too girly, that I should cut my hair. Now a 5’7 boy with long blonde hair is sort of unusual. Especially when he has an arse the size of mine. Strangers tend to take me for a girl, abet, a somewhat skinny, flat chested girl. I love it, but it takes all the strength I possess to do the ‘hell no I’m not girly’ routine expected of a boy.

Well what would people think if I didn’t?

So yep. Today, going back to school. Not the best of times for any kid sure. But now I look like I belong in the other school…. Our place has a boys school, and a girls on the same campus. One of those old private jobbies… Getting dressed this morning has been interested. I avoided trying on my suit because of this reason….

Till you reach 6th form, you wear the school blazer and uniform, pretty standard. In the 6th form, one wears a suit and the school tie. So I was forcibly dragged along by my mother to the men’s department at the local department store to buy a suit.

Yes, my mum got asked why her daughter wanted a men’s suit…. That made her go red. I cant really understand why they don’t see it…. Maybe they just don’t want to? Denial seems a fairly big river when people want it to be.

So we bought a suit. It fits really weird Thanks to my blossoming body. I KNOW I won’t finish the year in this. I won’t be able to look like a boy at all by Christmas if there is any luck in the world. I guess it puts the pressure on me to tell people huh?

So yeah, back to the suit huh? Its grey pinstripe. Rather too bankerish for my taste, but my mum loves it. I got out of the usual backpack bonanza by picking the most androgynous black .laptop style bag for this year. Stops people calling me gay, which lets be honest, doesn’t usually really impede them remotely.

So the suit… yeah, pinstripe. Oh I said that? Ok sorry. Well, I found a collection of shirts I could live with. Black mostly, with the occasional dark blue or red. They are simply men’s shirts… there is no way I can possibly describe them to you. They come in one style, one shape, and are rather boring. But you didn’t read this story to hear about men’s clothes did you? No, you want to hear about the juicy transitioning parts and sex, and sordid details, possibly the pain if you are so inclined. Well hold your horses guys, gals, and um, others. I’ll get to the good stuff in time…

School tie tied. I don’t really think that required further discussion. It’s a tie, there are many like it, and fucking unfortunately, this one is mine. Collect my flowing feminine locks in a ponytail as normal, throw on my black zip front hoodie and suit jacket over it.

Why a hoodie? Well two reasons, its September, and its cold… and it bulks me up, and hides my swelling chest. While not uniform items, they are generally ignored by staff unless garish.

This isn’t your usual tranny story. No, I’m not intersexed as far as I know, and I didn’t suddenly wake up with DDs after popping my first oestrogen pills. They are big enough to be noticeable on my frame. Sure, if I was fat, they would simply look like moobs. But I’m skinny and thin. So they look like boobs. The jacket stays on….

”Mark, come on, we are going to be late.”

Sorry, that’s my dad. He gets annoyed when I keep him from the job he hates.

I grab my book bag, and bounce down the stairs to the kitchen. Ow! Damn it, I need to buy a sports bra, or flatten these things, bouncing hurts….

“Did you brush your hair dear?” calls my mum from her office.

“Yep mum, its all tidy as normal. I look vaguely presentable.”

”By my or your standards?” she asks, popping her head around the door.

I just look at her while I bite into a slice of toast.

I grab my coffee mug as I head out, one of those travel ones with a lid, its great I tell you…

I’m learning to drive at the moment; my dad lets me drive to school in the mornings before he takes the car on to work. I can’t say I’m thrilled by the prospect.

“Come on mark, show some balls and pull out. If I didn’t know you were my son, I’d swear you were a bloody woman.”

I cringe at that comment and keep my mouth shut. A comment either way is counter productive I feel.

“See you tonight.” He calls as he drives out of the car park.

Well, here I am; at school… at last. This all seems real now. They will notice. What do I do? How the hell do I get out of sports?

Ugh, one disaster at a time. My fingers slowly press the keys on the electronic pad controlling the gate to school. It’s early, and out of hours, the gates are electronic, open during the day. I get to school at 8am thanks to my father. Usually I like it, gives me time to do work, relax, wake up. Now, I rather fear it. The time to my death is extended. Part of me wants this over now. Part doesn’t want it to happen at all.

I slowly sip my coffee as I walk into the building; the warmth is reassuring. I poke my head into the common room, our new common room as 6th formers. Its empty… silent. Normally, id be excited; finally getting to enter the den of the cool kids. But it seems so dark and silent right now. Like a tomb… My tomb.

Slipping my suit jacket off, I hang it on the back of one of the sofas. I slump down on the couch to wait.

Unconsciously, I sat with one leg under me, as I always do. Today, it seems too girly. Straightening myself out, I sit properly. Legs apart, slouching. I laugh at myself. I’m going to all this effort for nothing. NOBODY IS HERE to call me up on my ‘manliness’. Chuckling to myself. I pull my leg back under me. I never liked sitting legs apart. Always seemed crude. And when not crude. It was opening a target location to the bullies. They always seemed to like kicking me there. Maybe if I did it more often they would kick me so hard my balls fell off?

‘One can always dream….’ I thought darkly.

The door creeks and I jump. Looking around, its just a cleaner.

”Sorry love, didn’t mean to make you jump.”

Did she mean love the way women talk to young boys? Or the way women talk to young girls? Fuck, why cant she at least use a gendered phrase. I’d know weather to run home or stay then…

The door goes again. I look around; Its Paul, one of the guys who I’m largely indifferent to. He’s a footballer, but not a snobby prick like the rest. He’s probably gay, he dresses far too well… but then, he is a footballer, and I swear he wears makeup….

I listen to myself stereotyping so wildly and shake my head to myself.

“Hey Mark. Good summer?” he asks sitting down in front of me on another sofa.

“Not so bad. Kind a quiet.” I reply non comittally. “You?”

“Yeah, was great. Football camp, and our Italy tour was wicked. You look different?”

Shit. “Aahhh, I lost some weight, I was sick.” I try hopefully.

“Shit man, you’re really fucking skinny, but you just look different. Like you put on weight, but lost it kinda… Softer, but smaller….” He gestured. “Sorry dude, didn’t mean to have a go.”

“Ah, its ok. I know I look a bit weedy.” I shrug. “Guess I wont make the rugby team this year.”

Paul chuckled over the mars bar he was wolfing down. “Like you ever tried out… or wanted to.”

I smile and shrug. “You got me.”

Paul looks over my shoulder at someone coming in through the door.

Twisting around, its Megan, Kara, and Gary. See, I know I said its ‘sorta’ a boys school, but the girls come over at breaks, and like now. Megan and Kara are Gary’s sisters and general entourage. So they are a common sight around.

As usual around other girls, I get quiet, and shy. I’m jealous, and curious at the same time. I sort of feel I have more to prove to other women, that I am one of them, than I do to prove I’m not a guy.

“Hey you two.” Beams Megan, the fiery redhead grins. She’s the epitome of the family’s Irish past: Freckles, bouncy, and with hair like a burning potato field.

Kara is more ginger than red, subtle, and bookish, A nice girl. We get on. Gary is the odd one out; jet black hair, fair skin, and glasses. The girls often kid him that he’s adopted, despite their father’s similar hair.

“Hey guys.” I mumble through my coffee, PRAYING that they don’t make some blunt comment about my appearance the way Megan has a tendency to…

Paul begins chattering to Kara about some book and Gary Slumps on the sofa and throws his feet on the coffee table.

“Just like we’re back home again.” Grins Megan shoving his feet off the sofa.

”Hey I’m just getting used to our new palace.” He laughs flicking the TV remote in the general direction of the TV on the wall.

Some random news show comes on, distracting most peoples attention momentarily the way any newly turned on TV does.
“You look different Mark, you get your hair cut?”

“No he didn’t” replied Kara shaking her head, her ginger straight hair wagging around in front of her eyes.

“He lost weight though. You have GOT to give me the name of the diet you used. You’re skinnyer than me!” She pouted trying to look hurt.

“He had some exotic disease or something.” Chimed in Paul.

“You look different, but I cant place it.” Megan replied slowly, squinting her eyes at me.

I felt VERY uncomfortable as they all scrutinised me.

“He looks like a girl with that hair.” Gary laughs.

I cringe, that is NOT the words I wanted to hear. Part of me knew it was only a matter of time.

“I think he’d look like a girl even if he was bald.” Smirks Megan.

I cant help it. Its too much. Stifling a sob, I get up and run out of the common room towards the toilets.

Locking myself in a cubicle, I slump down on the seat.

Great! I just confirmed their thoughts. I KNOW I look like a girl. And they know something is up… And now I ran crying to the toilets. What a fucking stereotype I am!

“Mark?”

“Fuck off.” I mumble.

“Mark, where are you.” Megan calls again.

“Somewhere you shouldn’t be.”

“Or you by the sounds of things.”

Erp. The goose which is in my ownership, seems to be rather cooked.

“Huh?” sometimes stupidity is the best way out of a problem. If in doubt. Be thick….

“Well the way you’re behaving this morning reminds me of me that’s all… Over sensitive, crying, You’re acting like a girl Mark, Come out and tell me what’s up.”

Thank god, she doesn’t know.

Unlocking the door, I slowly slide out of the cubicle.

She’s stood there leaning against the wall next to the urinals.

”You have changed.” She announces.

”Yeah so? We all do over the summer, its months since we last saw each other.”

Megan shook her head. “Not this much.”

I try stupidity again and look blankly at her.

“Well, let me explain something. You managed to get thinner AND fatter at the same time.”

“Huh?”

Megan smirked. “Don’t play dumb, you may be blonde, but you can’t cheat an expert.”

Extending her long graceful arm, she counts off on her fingers. “Firstly, you have a serious ass on you… I saw you leave the common room, that one surprised me. But yet you are skinny as hell. Your face seems rounder, but you are thinner, and finally, your thighs seem chunkier, while your calves seem smaller.” She finished ticking off before turning back to me and resting her hands on her hips. “What is going on?”

“I ah.” I mumble. I just don’t know what to say to that. She has me in one. And im finally as stupid as I act.

”I don’t know where to start.” I mumble, hoping to buy some time to get my jumbled thoughts in order.

“Well start with telling me how long you’ve been trying to become a girl.”

My jaw drops.

“What the fuck?”

“Mark…” She says softly, her hard expression breaking. “I’m not blind. You were never blokey, you acted like a girl this morning, and you got upset when someone mentioned that. You come running to the toilets, and Physically you look like I did when I was 12 or 13… what are you taking?”

“Um.” Can I ? “hormones.” I mumble, half hoping she cant hear me.

Girl’s hormones?” she asks. “how long?”

“6 months.” I admit.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks. Looking at her, I can see a hurt in her eyes. One of my best friends, and I ignored her totally.

“I thought you would hate me, and tell everyone.” I whispered, a tear rolling uncontrollably down my cheek.

“Aw baby I wouldn’t ever do that.” She cries throwing her arms around me.

”You girls aren’t allowed in here.” A high pitched little voice announces.

One of the kids from year 7 is looking up at us with an angry startled expression on his little face.

”Get lost.” growls Megan.

The kid looked like he wet his pants as he scampered away.

“Come on, lets go before he tells a teacher.” She smiles, taking my hand and leading me out of the toilets down some steps to the playing fields.

“So tell me.” She asks softly as we sit down on a bench in the cold morning air.

Staring at my hands; I tell her the whole tale, start to finish, nothing left out.

By the end, we are both crying, and hugging. It seems so soppy and stereotypical, but seriously, It was that emotionally draining. Still… I’d told someone. I had one hurdle down. Suddenly, things didn’t seem so dire.

If I lost everything, I’d still have Megan to lean on.

“How are you planning on dealing with the others?” she asked through a haze of breath.

“I hadn’t really planned.” I mutter looking at my feet.

“Well they are gonna notice something is up, you don’t look like you did before the summer.”

“Ugh. I know ok?” I sigh exasperatedly. “What can I do?” I ask hopeful that she will have some form of answer.

“Well, you can tough it out. Pretend nothing is wrong. And hope everyone is blind.” She gestures comicly. “OR…. You can admit it….”

I feel very cold suddenly.

“I, I don’t know.” I stammer. I WANT to do it, but I don’t know if I can….

“Stay here.” She says suddenly, a thoughtful expression on her face.

”Meg no!” I cry just as she vanishes.

Megan’s ‘cunning plans’ rarely are cunning or planned.

Oh what the fuck is she doing?
 
 

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Author's Note: Just a flash of inspriation while I look towards finishing 'The Road to Haifa'. I know you want more Haifa, but i want to keep the quality up :) Alyssa