Author Note: This started out as a simple edit and continuation of my old work 'Homework' It has since spiraled out of all control into its own beautiful new beast. Enjoy this rollercoaster and hold on tight, we're doing barrel rolls.

A Double bill introduces this monster adventure, so dig in and enjoy!

 

 

The world of Transgender Fiction is a truly wild and wonderous beast in the world of literature. In one overarching genre, you can run the gamut from magical tales of gender-bending tomfoolery to an unending tide of teen dramas. It has as many spinny skirts, cute boys, and cheer contests as you can possibly handle without vomiting pink glitter.

While it has delighted the spirits and the underpants of many readers, I’m sorry to have to tell you that this fiction is… well, fiction. The sad reality is that our experience is often nowhere near as exciting or adorable as it is on the pages of a book.

For transgender people, life is often pretty tragic and sometimes quite a violent experience. Our lives are full of doubt, fear, and shame. More often than not it is quite simply depressing and lonely. On rare occasions, however, it can be stranger than fiction. Often it’s hindsight that allows us to see how truly strange life has been. Without realizing it, you might be living out the same tropes that you found on the pages of those very books. Did I get recruited to the cheer squad? Did the captain of the football team take me to the homecoming dance in my pretty dress? Sadly not, but I promise you won’t be disappointed either way.

I write this now, twenty years later, as a very different person. I cannot believe the people I’ve known and the places I’ve been. I’m the person I was always meant to be; living proof that there can be a happy ever after. I didn’t believe it was possible at the time, but desperate times led to desperate measures. Was it funny then? Absolutely not. Is it funny in hindsight? One hundred percent thigh slapper. Welcome to my rather unconventional story; one that is far more true than it is fiction. That might be difficult for you to believe, but I’m sure you’ll probably read it anyway.

As with cake, untangling headphones, and defusing bombs, the best place to start a story is at the beginning. Let’s pretend this is an Alcoholics Anonymous group meeting and I will start by introducing myself:

Hi, my name is Alexander, and I’m a girl. Are you seeing something wrong here? Good, because I wholeheartedly agree with you. That minor inconsistency is why we’re here in the first place. If we hold true to stories of this nature I should tell you that my real name, the name that I gave my true self, is Holly; Holly Juliet Winters.

You know the routine; I’ve always felt as though I should have really been born a girl. As a little kid, I tended to display more feminine tendencies and I played dolls with my sister; all the usual stuff. Let’s not pretend that you don’t know how this all works, it saves us a great deal of time and prevents me from having to tell you my tragic back story of the girly boy trapped in terrible misery and angst. Far too many of these stories spend half the book moping and crying while the protagonist works out what we all knew from the moment we opened the cover.

It’s true, that some people have a moment of discovery. For others like me, it’s something we’ve always known; a cosmic certainty that we’re positive nobody else sees and nobody else wants. No matter what though we feel the urge to correct that imbalance. That first group? They’re the egg. Me? You can call me the chicken. Cluck cluck motherfucker.

Without further ado let us begin. Who am I? Who is Alex Winters? I’m a sixteen-year-old student starting my Junior year of high school today and for most children that’s an exciting time in their young lives. Returning to school means a time to see friends, get your learner’s permit, and enter your cool years of high school. You see, for me, that’s a little different. My school is a private institution and while that sounds very fancy and wonderful at face value, it presents certain challenges if you’re transgender like me. Why, you ask? We’re divided by gender into two schools on one campus, boys on one side, and girls on the other; great.

To explain how I found myself in the situation that predicates the entire plot of this story I need to take a brief detour into the darker side of our transgender world. Like many people in my position, I suffered greatly from my feelings. I hit a really bad patch of darkness during the Christmas holidays last year as puberty was starting to raise its ugly head. I was watching my brother and school friends turning into men and I knew it was coming for me too. It was too much and I had to hit the eject button.

It became bad enough that I reached a major fork in the road of my life where the decision was set before me; self forever-sleep, or transition. Not as exciting or funny as cake or death, but you get the picture. I realize this isn’t what you all want to read about but it was, however, the major motivating factor behind my starting my transition the way I did. Was I stupid? Absolutely.

I have been taking female hormones that I bought from an online source for about six months now. It’s a combination of estrogen and a blocker to overcome my body’s own best-laid plans and to shunt me in the right direction. I know how stupid self-medication can be, you don’t have to lecture me. I had reached the end of my rope and didn’t want to turn into some hulking hairy monster like my brother. I did my research, I was exhaustive and I ensured I was as safe as possibly could be short of being prescribed and monitored by a doctor. Those kinds of things are somewhat impossible as a minor without parental consent.

I’ll preface this by reminding you that this is the early 2000s. Back then, There weren’t a massive number of trans teens running around with cans of energy drink, spinny skirts with Toktik accounts. At the time the average age of someone transitioning was closer to forty. Why is this important? Well, all the anecdotal evidence I’d been given about the effectiveness and speed that hormone therapy worked with was tied to that. Now dial it back twenty-five years and into puberty; HRT goes like a raccoon out of a T-shirt cannon. (Don't ask, he was wearing a crash helmet.)

The effects had been relatively easy to hide for the first few months as nothing major happened to me physically. What did occur was possible to be hidden with relative ease. That was rather useful as I haven’t even told my parents yet. Honestly, that is one of the major challenges I’ve yet to face; “Hey Mom, hey Dad, I’m not your son, I’m really your daughter despite being born a boy and being called Alex.”
Doesn’t sound too logical, does it?

At first, the only changes I experienced were emotional ones. My sense of smell changed and I became far more weepy and sensitive. I was so up and down that it did get me some weird looks. Then again, when you’re not very popular people don’t tend to notice the quiet moody kid in the corner.

I did start to get some development in my chest and hips but it was possible to be hidden with careful choices of clothing. The problem is that things somewhat accelerated over the summer. I lost a lot of weight in some areas and I gained it in some others. Where do you ask? Let’s be honest, you know exactly where; my chest, my butt, and my thighs.

I generally have what one would casually describe as a girl’s figure by now and that has become far harder for me to disguise. I know what you’re thinking; typical trans story; the protagonist looks like a girl but nobody else seems to notice or seems to care about the effeminate kid, well that’s a darn lie. My sister and my mom both noticed and a few of my friends that I saw over the summer noticed too. Most told me that I was looking too girly and that I should probably cut my hair. It’s funny how they mentally gloss over the other bits and seem to think it's ONLY my hair that makes me girly. In all honesty, I could probably shave my head and still look very feminine. Not that I’d ever consider doing that of course!

Now a five-foot-five-inch tall boy with long blonde hair is relatively uncommon, especially when he has a butt the size of New Jersey. Strangers tend to read me as a girl at first meeting, although admittedly, a somewhat skinny and flat-chested one. I love it, but it takes all the strength I possess to do the ‘hell no! I’m not girly’ routine expected of a teen boy when I’m around other people.

Well, what would they think if I didn’t? That I liked it? Of course, I did. I can’t let the normals in on that though can I?

So now we’re all caught up on how we got here we can return to the story proper; the first day of the fall semester of my Junior year of high school. This wouldn’t be much of an issue if I didn’t now look like I belonged in the girl’s division of our school rather than the boys. Getting dressed this morning has been interesting; I’d call it affirming if I wasn’t still very much in hiding. I had avoided trying on my suit for most of the summer as I knew full well how much of a pain it would be.

Allow me to explain my school’s dress code for students so that this makes sense: For most of your time at school between the grades of six and ten, one wears the uniform. This consists of black trousers a white shirt with the school tie and a red sweater with the school crest. Once you become a Junior, that changes to a business suit in your choice of grey or black, a shirt, and a school tie. It’s intended to set us up for a lifetime wearing professional attire while we become business moguls. The reality is we look like a young Republican convention with only mildly less bigotry.

With a tear in her proud eye, my mother dragged me along to the men’s department of our local posh department store to buy me my first big boy suit. Yes, as you can imagine my mom got asked why on earth her daughter wanted to wear a man’s suit. That made her extremely embarrassed and nearly led to an emergency trip to the hair salon until I distracted her.

The fact they cannot see what is happening to me is both a relief and a concern. It reminds me that people have a fixed image in their minds of the ones they love; their ideal version. The fact that somehow mine still reads boy is a reminder that it’s not time for me to come out yet. Maybe they just don’t want to see it? Denial seems to be a fairly big river in Africa when people want it to be.

We bought a suit eventually and I won’t bore you with the details of shopping for menswear; it fits really weirdly thanks to my unusual body and I know I won’t finish the year in this thing. Quite honestly I doubt I’ll be able to look like a boy at all by Christmas. Part of me is excited about that and part of me is terrified because it puts real pressure on me to tell people. The scary part is that it makes it real and real is hard.
So the suit; it’s a dark charcoal pinstripe; boring I know. I found a collection of shirts I could live with consisting mostly of blacks with the occasional dark blue or red. They are simply men’s dress shirts and there is no way I can possibly describe them to you that might make them interesting. They come in one style, one shape, and are still boring. You didn’t read this story to hear about men’s clothes, did you? No, you want to hear about the juicy transitioning parts like skirts, panties, boys, sex, and other sordid details. Hold your horses guys, gals, and others. I’ll get to the good stuff in two shakes of a pom pom.

School tie-tied, I don’t really think that required further discussion. It’s a tie, there are many like it, and unfortunately, this one is mine. I collect my flowing feminine locks in a boy's low ponytail as normal and throw on my black zip-front hoodie. With my suit jacket over the top, I’m dressed and ready for battle.

Why a hoodie you ask? Well two reasons; it's September which is already starting to feel a little cold and it bulks my torso up rather nicely. The major benefit is that it hides my swelling chest better than just a shirt meaning I don’t have to spend my day with hunched shoulders. While not uniform items they are generally ignored by staff unless garish or ratty and mine is neither.

This isn’t your usual trans story and no, I’m not intersexed as far as I’m aware. I didn’t suddenly wake up with double-D boobs after popping my first estrogen pill either. My breasts, and yes that still feels strange to say, 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 undeniably like boobs; the jacket stays on.

”Alex, get your butt down here, we’re going to be late!” my father yells upstairs. He gets cranky in the mornings when I keep him from the job he complains about. I ride to school with him each morning on his way into the office.

I grab my book bag and bounce down the stairs to the kitchen. Ow! Damn it, I need to buy a sports bra or work out how to flatten these darned things out. Bouncing, I’ve realized, hurts a lot more since they turned up.

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

“Yep Mom, it's all tidy as usual, I look vaguely presentable.”

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

I roll my eyes petulantly while I bite into the slice of toast waiting for me and grab my mug. I really need to control my morning bitchyness better.

I have my learner's permit, but no car yet so 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 but it does mean one day I’ll have my independence. Experience is experience, and a Mercedes is a Mercedes.

We arrive at school after about thirty minutes and I’m deposited in the parking lot as Dad heads off to work. I used to enjoy getting into school early when it was quiet but today it just means more time to think. All of this seems so very real now. I know I’ve waxed lyrical about this already but the truth is that I’m quite scared of the reaction I might receive. People who see you every day don’t notice change quite as much because it’s a gradual process whereas people who haven’t seen you in months will spot things right away. What do I do? How the hell do I get out of Gym class? I have no idea, but we’re going to find out.

Ugh, one disaster at a time. My fingers tentatively press the keys on the electronic pad controlling the pedestrian gate to school. It’s early and out of hours but students have the code to get in if they need it. I get to school an hour early thanks to my father’s schedule so I always let myself in. Usually, this would be something I’d enjoy as it gives me time to unwind, wake up, and get homework done but today it feels like a stay of execution and the Governor is feeling particularly bipolar. A part of me wants this to be over straight away and another part doesn’t want it to happen at all.

I slowly sip my coffee as I walk into the building; the warmth is reassuring and the caffeine is necessary for my own sanity. The corridors are quiet as I make my way inside and toward my new home base; the common room. Juniors and Seniors, as befits their lofty status are permitted an exclusive common room on the ground floor to call our own. I arrive at the doors and tentatively stick my head inside. It's empty at this hour and silent. Normally, I'd be excited to finally get to enter the den of the cool kids but my apprehension is tempering my enjoyment. Right now it feels like a tomb… My tomb.

Picking myself a spot away from the main entrance, I slump down on one of the sofas to wait. I’m far too nervous to go to the library or use the computers like I normally might before school. I feel like I need to see this one coming.

Unconsciously I sit with one leg tucked under me as I feel most comfortable. Today though, it seems far too girly so I straighten myself out and sit properly for a boy; Legs apart and slouching. I chuckle to myself because I’m going to all this effort for absolutely nothing because nobody is here to call me up on my lack of ‘manliness’.

Sadly I know I need to do it even when I’m alone or I’ll slip when it does matter. Hiding yourself like this is exhausting, I have to remain focused or I’ll let people see the truth. I’d prefer to tuck my legs up and sit comfortably as it feels more natural; I never liked sitting with my legs apart because it always seemed crude. When not crude, it was unwise; an open target location for the bullies. As much as being kicked there hurt, I sometimes wondered rather darkly what might happen if they did it one too many times and ruined those hateful things.

The door across the room creeks and I jump. Looking around I realize it’s just one of the cleaners.

”Sorry dear, didn’t mean to make you jump.” she smiles kindly as she goes about her business. The one thing I can’t work out here is whether she means dear in the way women talk to young boys or the way women talk to girls. Why can’t she at least use a gendered phrase so I’d know whether to run home and fake sickness or stay and face the day ahead?

The door goes again and I look around; It is one of the other Juniors, Steve. He’s alright I suppose; he’s on the soccer team, but not a snobby prick like the rest of them can be at times. He’s probably secretly gay because he dresses far too well and I swear he wears makeup sometimes. I listen to myself stereotyping so wildly and shake my head at the blatant hypocrisy of my judgment.

“Hey, Alex! Damn, you’re early already this year! Good summer?” he asks dropping down on a sofa across from me.

“Not so bad, kinda quiet.” I reply neutrally, “yourself?”

“Yeah, It was awesome, soccer camp was cool and our Italy tour was amazing.” He pauses and looks at me critically for a moment, his brow furrowed. “You look kinda different, did you change something?”

Shit, this is working out great. “Aahhh,” I stammer intelligently, “I lost some weight, I was pretty sick for ages over summer vacation,” I offer, hoping he takes the bait.

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

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I know I look a bit weedy,” I shrug. “Guess I won't be making the Football team this year for JV.”

Steve chuckles and rips open a candy bar before shoving it into his mouth. “Like you’d ever try out.”

I smile and shrug, “You might have me there.”

Steve looks over my shoulder at someone coming in through the doors.

Twisting around to see who’s arrived I see Gary Byrne and his sisters Megan and Kara. Yes, I know I told you it’s a single-sex school, and that’s true. The only difference is that the nurse’s office is in the Girl's Division and the girls will often come over before school because our common room has a snack bar and theirs doesn’t. Yes, girls want to stuff their faces too, weird concept that. Megan and Kara are Gary’s sisters and his general duty entourage so they’re a fairly common sight around the place.

As usual around other girls, I get rather quiet and shy. I’m jealous of them, and feel inferior to them; I sort of feel I have more to prove to other women. I feel more pressure to prove that I belong with them than I do to prove I’m not a guy. Life is complicated. This year I’m hyper-aware that they’re more likely to spot my changes than boys are.

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

Kara is more ginger than red. She has a more subtle and cute bookish look. She’s a nice girl; we get on rather well. 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 very similar hair.

“Hey guys,” I mumble a greeting past my coffee mug PRAYING that they don’t make some blunt comment about my appearance the way Megan has an extreme tendency to.

Steve 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,” chuckles Megan shoving his feet off the table.

”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 people's attention momentarily the way any newly turned-on TV does.

“You look different Alex, did you get your hair cut?”

“No he didn’t,” Kara answered assuredly, 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 skinnier than me!” She pouted trying to look hurt.
“He had some exotic disease or something,” chimed in Steve.

“You look different, but I can't place it,” Megan replied slowly, squinting her eyes at me.
I felt VERY uncomfortable as they all scrutinized me in ways I didn’t need.
“He looks kinda like a girl with that hair.” Gary laughs.
I cringe, these are NOT the words I wanted to hear already! Part of me knew it was only a matter of time though.
“I think he’d look like a girl even if he was bald,” smirks Megan, holding up her fingers to frame off my face like a photographer.
“Get lost all of you.” I huff, crossing my arms to square my shoulders. “Get a new joke.”

“Just kidding Alex,” Megan grins, “Come on, you might want a haircut though eventually.”

Quick, Fury Girl! deploy smoke bomb! “I Just like it ok?” I bluster, “And so what if I look a bit girly, I’d take that any day than be your adopted ratboy brother.”

“Hey go die in a fire dweeb!” Gary growls, launching the TV remote in my direction. Thankfully it’s the distraction I need to change the topic. I enjoy settling back into the background and allowing the conversation to take its own life. Every conversation where I’m not heavily involved is a safe conversation. It’s a shame really, in an ideal world I’d love to be more open with Meg, Kara, and Gary, they’re good people.

Conversation thankfully changes track and I’m no longer the center of attention. As the clock approaches nine, the room fills up with the rest of the students and the sisters head off to get ready for their own homerooms. For a very brief while, I’m invisible and I can just exist in the sea of students. Everyone’s far too busy catching up with friends to bother with me this morning. Before long it’s time to head off to homeroom and begin the day. One hurdle is down and a few more to go. I’m hoping that if I can survive the day and let people get used to me they won’t notice how I look quite as easily. The plan is solid, but I’m feeling pretty uncertain about its efficacy.

We pile into the Geography hovel that is our homeroom. It’s full of maps and rocks and all sorts of natural curios to fiddle with in the name of academia. We’ve been in this same classroom with the same seating assignments since we were freshmen. This year the room starting to feel a lot smaller though. Most of my classmates have grown significantly over the summer. They are wider, taller, and generally bigger in nearly all directions while my skinny butt stated the same (relatively speaking). All around me are muscles, facial hair, and dear lord, the smell of guys.

So here’s one thing that the typical trans story never seems to mention; boys smell! It’s not necessarily bad, I’ll give you that, but when they’re in a group it’s a general tangy musk that seems to invade your nostrils. Add to that their proclivity for drowning in body spray and cologne and it’s almost a choking hazard!

Mister Carstairs calls us all to order and runs through roll call with his usual detached boredom. He’s known us for two years and he’s not particularly paying much attention.

“Winters,”

“Here sir,” I call nervously.

Carstairs raises an eyebrow and looks back at me through the mass of bodies. “Winters, try to hit a growth spurt this year please.”

A wave of sniggers runs through the room at my expense, I feel my cheeks redden but I brazen it out, there’s a law even in the jungle and a reply is expected. “Absolutely sir, as soon as you grow some hair.”

Carstairs frowns but the rest of the class laughs openly at my quip. Honestly, if we had a Christmas play we could cast him as Baldylocks and the Three Hairs.

“Touché Mister Winters,” Carstairs replies dryly. “At least speak up, I can barely hear you.”

“I’ll try sir.”

You’d think someone in my position would keep their head down and try to maintain a low profile. What you don’t understand about schools like this is that that approach can often get you noticed more. A certain level of tet-a-tet is expected and non-participation in the good old boy’s culture will get you in some serious trouble. I might not be a boy, but I have had to learn to coexist with them.

Homeroom wraps up and we’re dispatched to our first class. For me, that’s Physics. I’ve always loved the sciences. To me, there is nothing is more clear than the atoms that make up our world. Whether it’s the cells of the body, a formula for a chemical compound, or the reaction of excited molecules I find peace in the order it creates. Sounds lovely and fluffy too doesn’t it? Makes this entire work seem somehow loftier and more meaningful. Truth be told I’m rather good at them so I consequentially enjoy them. Studying is a really easy single-player game when you’re limited on friends and generally don’t want to hang around and socialize as a boy.

The way I see it is the harder I work now, the more money I’ll make later. Awfully capitalist of me I’d agree, however, the world runs on money. Being transgender, you need a fair bit of it. Whether that is surgery, or simply being able to afford to live somewhere you won’t be abused it’s really important. That and I plan to become an incurable clothes horse in the most stereotypical fashion.

I really want to be a doctor if I can make it to a good college. Mom’s a surgeon, did I mention that? My mother, the woman who birthed and raised me is a Cardiothoracic Surgeon at Mercy General in our city. It’s why I have enough medical knowledge and drive to pursue self-medicating myself at my age, it kinda rubs off on you in that environment. Mom’s a badass and if I can be half the woman she is one day I’ll be truly happy.

I want to say that I want to go into medicine so that I can give back and help others like me, to save other young trans people in horrible situations but the truth is I really think I can pull off the Merideth Grey vibe. Am I joking? Who knows. But I will say I want to end up in a career that sees me making a difference. Not that all software developers in their programming socks don’t contribute… but god damn, y’all are a stereotype.

The school’s corridors are packed with students of all ages. It feels strange to be out of the familiar uniform but I’m rather glad to be free of it. I’m pretty certain I’d struggle to pull the look off these days. The crush is significant and boys are anything but gentle when they’re in a hurry. The corridors often feel like sharing a log flume with most of the logs and three Grizzly Bears. I clutch my books to my chest and reduce my size; my standard defensive tactic when the waters get choppy. I’m getting eloquent aren’t I? Must be that academic influence. I feel a body move in alongside me as I walk, a look confirms it’s one of my few friends.

Andy is my best friend here at school, you’ve not been introduced to him yet because it wasn’t relevant to the story. It now is, so surprise; meet Andy. Be warned, this isn’t a prelude to him becoming a mystery romantic interest as this progresses so get your horny minds out of the gutter. I will not be falling head over heels in love with my friends. What? He’s the real man after I go boy-crazy over jocks that don’t really love me? Pull the other one!

“Ready for Junior year Rapunzel?” he grins, nudging me with his elbow.

I roll my eyes at his delightfully appropriate choice of words. He’s called me this since we were Freshmen. I would worry that he spotted something but it’s always been this way. Andy and I have an understanding; both of us have a lot to lose against the school bullies. Me, problematically feminine and not actually a boy. Him? Incurable nerd with glasses thicker than the Hubble Telescope and a permanent limp thanks to his dad’s swimmers recruiting from the kiddy pool.

The dregs of society, school, or otherwise end up grouping together like flotsam in a river. The few friends I have are from this social sewer. Although as you’d expect, there are actually far cooler people there than most give credit for. The misfits that we are include the only two out gay boys in school, most of the nerds, and anyone that simply doesn’t fit with the expectations of the good old boys. Not athletically gifted? Big, broad, or chiseled? Any defects or flaws? Down you go. To them, we’re the scraps. To us? We’re the goddamn Ninja Turtles living down here with Master Splinter.

What the ‘cool’ kids don’t realize is that in twenty years this social group will contain inventors, scientists, doctors, and tech moguls. We are the ones who invent social media, start tech companies, and go on to big careers. Them? I hear Willymart is hiring greeters.

Here is where you find people playing fantasy card games over lunch or nerding out in the computer lab. These are the artists and the creative people that I’d rather know if I’m being totally honest. Andy has never judged me for what I look like. None of them have. They care about who I am, and how I treat them. Well, they care about who I present to them. I’m not sure they’d be ok with the real me.

Modern Day Holly speaking here; Andy actually went on to found a dating and hookup app that now titillates half of the planet’s loins, I’m not kidding. This sweet bookish nerd became the digital playboy he never dreamt of. Still a great guy to have over for dinner.

“Two more years and we can get out of here,” I sigh, narrowly dodging a knuckle-dragging linebacker that’s meandering through the crowd without a care in the world. “Two years and I’m at college and free.”

Andy chuckles and shakes his head. “You make it sound terrible dude.”

I ponder the thought for a moment as we walk. “It’s not that it’s bad,” I admit slowly. “I just want to be somewhere with more… more.”

“That makes so much sense,” Andy laughs. “More sir! Please sir, can I have some more?”

“Shut up, you know what I mean, I just want to be somewhere that isn’t this place. I’m done with the traditions, the cult of jock and I’ll just about take anything that isn’t all boys anymore.”

“I get it,” He nods as we file into the classroom. “Somewhere that isn’t ruled by the jocks would be nice. Where my limp doesn’t make me a loser.”

“No, you manage that on your own, the limp is just a bonus,” I grin as we take our seats.

Andy unpacked his textbooks and looked momentarily more serious. “I never took you for the girl crazy kind you know.”

“I’m not, but it would be nice, uh, you know.”

See, if this was the typical trans fiction adventure Andy would be pointing out that hanging with me is like having a girl around. We would laugh about it and I’d play it off and secretly fall in love with my best buddy who sees me as a girl when nobody else does. That is if this was a typical adventure. Spoiler alert; it isn’t.

The truth is that Andy doesn’t see me any differently and I keep it that way. I value his friendship but I’m still not telling him a damn thing. Not a single one of these people can know the truth; if I let it out once then the whole house of cards can come tumbling down. I can’t afford for that to happen.

I’d love to go class to class and detail every moment of my day so far but quite honestly it's really boring. The teachers don’t actually care what we look like as long as we follow the dress code and pay attention. For them, we’re here to learn, and learn we do. My appearance might raise an eyebrow in the teacher's lounge, but they daren’t mention a thing about it lest they get accused of something dodgy. Thank you Teacher/Student scandals I suppose.

Physics is followed by History, English Literature, and Algebra before we break for lunch. This isn’t the kind of institution that eases students back in on the first day of term. Here we go hard or go home. I suppose when our parents are paying thousands of dollars a year for us to attend they expect us to not waste any time with such niceties as comfort.

We spill from Algebra and the entire school begins the ritual of lunch. See, unlike normal high schools where this is a typical counter service or bag lunch affair, we’re served at the table. It’s another cooky tradition that this school shares with the ancient past it draws inspiration from. Here, we have our assigned tables with an upperclassman as the head. The catering staff provides the dishes and the head organizes its distribution to everyone with the Juniors assisting. There’s so much man of the house, patriarchy taking care of your family shit to unpack in this that I don’t even have words.

I make it down to the dining hall for my sitting and find my assigned table for the year. There’s always a mixture of years and ages to each table to avoid any major clique shenanigans and drama and I suppose further that ‘protect the weak family members’ attitude the school attempts to beat into us. I barely recognize any of the names I’m set to join so I make my way back through the throng to find my spot.

By the time I get there, there are maybe three of the eight spots on the long wooden benches filled. I grab one of the far ends, I like the ends; it’s only possible to get elbowed by one person at a time. Our table head is there and I immediately recognize him as one of the Varsity football gods the school romanticizes so heavily; Brandon Michaels.

“Come on down this end Winters.” Brandon grins aloofly in his newfound power as table head. “We’re sitting in descending grade at table twelve this year.”

“Does it really matter?” I ask tersely, not actually moving from my nice remote spot.

Brandon bristles and straightens his back aloofly. “Yes, it’s my decision and this is how we’re doing it, I can report you to a prefect if you want me to.”

I am not one for violence, but there are many things I would do to him with a fork right now and none of them enjoyable. Rolling my eyes so severely I’m pretty sure one nearly fell out I move my butt down to the far end of the bench nearest to him. “Happy?”

Brandon smiles smugly and nods. By this time more of our table are arriving and I’ve no further interest in making a scene to start out the year. Brandon has laid down his claim to authority and I suspect it won’t be his last while he attempts to convince everyone he doesn’t have a micropenis (probable).

The table fills and the catering staff staff begin their rounds and hand out serving dishes to each of the tables. It seems they at least are making an effort for the first day and it’s a rather delicious roast. I know it sounds improbable for a high school, and yes, I realize most of you were dragged up on pizza squares and mystery meat but when you're paying several thousand dollars a term, the least they can do is make the food edible, really really edible.

“Ok Winters, you can be mommy, start passing these down to the guys.” Brandon sneers handing one of the dishes to me. I bite my tongue; nothing I say here will be useful. He’s an upperclassman and he’s my tablehead, we do as we’re told. While I don’t mind the odd femininity dig from someone like Andy, others like this hulking turd mean it as an insult.

Let me clarify something. I have no problem being called female, feminine, or girly: I am. These are all facts and honestly, they are ones I’m currently trying to minimize for the sake of my own survival. What I do have a problem with is when people say it with malicious intent. When they mean it as though my being female or feminine makes me somehow lesser or worse than them. I’m no feminist gunslinger, but I do know my mother and sister are both amazing, strong, and proud women who hold our family together. I would give my left testicle to be counted alongside them… and the right one. See? I can make jokes even when I’m this depressed.

I know that if I call attention to girly Alex then people will look all the harder. Trying to dance this insane ballet is exhausting. I never truly felt like I belonged in this world of men, but now with more estrogen flying around me than the grade seven girls I feel utterly alone. It’s everything I can do to maintain my mask and preserve my truth. I told you bits of this would be depressing, promise I’ll talk about panties in the next few paragraphs, maybe.

Lunch is actually as delicious as expected. By the time I’m able to get to my own, the piglets up and down the table are already nose-deep in the trough. I’m still not sure how they manage to actually grunt out conversations around overstuffed mouths but it leaves me feeling mildly nauseous.

“Am I going to have to swap you out with one of the Sophomores Winters?” Brandon interjects gesturing at me with his fork.

I pause, a green bean halfway to my mouth. “What?”

Brandon chuckles to himself in that self-important way assholes do that signifies that they’re totally finding their own joke amazing and you should too. “You know when you were at the far end of the table earlier I thought you’d get bigger when you got closer.”

I roll my eyes at the insanely original height joke and return to eating my food. I really do not want to engage with him because it will only get worse. He’s on the varsity team and he’s my table head; it’s the way it works around here, he has the clout. This is how a lot of the abuse works at the school; it’s passive and it’s power-driven. It’s part of the culture designed to turn us into good strong leaders who wield power with manly authority. Can you tell I really am done with this shit?

Lunch wraps up and we ensure our plates are stacked neatly for the catering staff to collect. That falls to me and the other Junior to complete. I don’t really know him much, but I think he’s one of the sportier types. As we’re leading the dining hall that very junior slides up beside me and nudges me casually with his elbow and leans in.

“Don’t feel bad about Michaels, His girl dumped him for one of the guys at St James’ Academy over the summer so he’s extra pissy.”

I’m mildly suspicious as to why this guy I don't even know feels the need to make me feel better for Brandon’s asshattery but I smirk at his words regardless. “Not sure why a girl found him attractive in the first place.”

The guy grins and nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, you get it. Kinda hard to find any positives in that meat sack. I’m Rick by the way.”

“Alex,” I offer with a shrug.

“Cool, see you around Alex.” The guy offers cheerily and jogs off to join his friends. I can’t help but feel like he was picking up something I was certainly not putting down.

At my school, our Lunch takes place in two sittings, being on the first now means that I have the following half hour to myself before class resumes at one thirty. For many, it’s time to go outside and burn off energy or hang with friends. My preference however is the library.

Our library is my favorite part of the school. It’s located on the upper floor and extends for half of the entire wing and reaches up high into the open ceiling. It’s all wood and leather and smells of ancient paper. This place feels like it’s been pulled directly from A very famous fantasy author with a penchant for turtles and disks’ idea of a potentially less-than-visible university. Obscure reference? I think you’ll find it’s an exceptional reference, read a book. Preferably not one of those Logwarts magical wizard ones written by that feckless hag.

The library has been my refuge for as long as I can remember. Whether I was a lonely Freshman trying to hide from bullies or later, during my extensive research into what I was feeling, it provided me with a safe and comforting environment where I could feel in control. Before you criticise me for using school computers to search about transgender topics, fear not; Mar A Lago has tighter security. I settle into my favorite alcove toward the back of the library and pull out the novel I’m currently reading. Half an hour doesn’t seem like a lot of time but when you can extract a moment of silence in somewhere as noisy as a high school it’s incredibly precious. Today, it seems is not that day.

“Alex, I see you’re back for another year.”

I smile and close my book. It’s one of the few members of staff I look forward to seeing each year; Mrs Inverbrook the librarian. A jovial woman in her fifties, Mrs Inverbrook is the epitome of the librarian; she flits around in big flowing skirts, cardigans, and glasses on a string. Her hair is already grey, but it’s full and beautiful in a bun behind her head. Honestly, if I’d created a fictional character to play her, it would actually be her.

“Sadly yes, but I’m always glad to be here,” I reply giving her a genuine smile. “Did you work through the summer here?”

Mrs Inverbrook sits down primly on one of the chairs nearby and nods, “Every year your summer is my inventory and audit period. The entire library gets deep cleaned and damaged books repaired or replaced, our work never stops.” her expression softens and she gives me a more motherly look. “Now tell me, are you still hiding in here this year? You know you can report any issues like this to me or the other staff.”

I chuckle to myself and shake my head. “I enjoy it here, it’s quiet. I get to read and enjoy some peace. The benefit of being out of the path of the knuckle draggers is not bad either.”

Mrs Inverbrook doesn’t entirely believe me but she nods regardless. I do feel a moment of concern as I watch her eyes rove across me with more focus. “Are you doing ok dear?”

“I’m fine,” I smile cheerfully. “Was sick over the summer, really sick. I am recovering though, I just lost a lot of weight.”

Mrs Inverbrook eyes me with undisguised suspicion for a moment but I keep my expression as honestly neutral and pleasant as I can. Of all of the staff here, she’s the one that’s spent the most time with me over the years. If any of them were going to be smart enough to spot what was happening it would be her, and that could be a problem.

“If there’s ever any trouble or any… problems. You can talk to me.” She offers carefully. “About anything. You can confide in me Alex.”

This is the point in the adventure when our brave protagonist throws her lot in with the supportive teacher and gets the help she needs to seek professional help and come out to her parents, it’s the big key moment that turns the entire story and allows our perfectly feminine little miss to be her true self at school. Well, that isn’t happening here. I haven’t gotten as far as I have without being extremely paranoid. Nobody learns about this unless I can help it. I won’t be trusting any adults, especially ones with a duty to report and or cover their own asses. That is a road to baby getting locked up in some military school or an asylum.

Think I’m overreacting? Put your very existence on the line and we’ll talk.

I know she doesn’t believe me, and I can be reasonably sure she has suspicions, but without me coming out and saying it she can’t really make the connection for certain so it will remain our unspoken secret.

“Very well,” she nods, conceding the round. “Remember Alex, I’m not far away.”

I can imagine you’re getting a pretty dismal view of me and my situation so far. Honestly, I can agree with you. In contradiction to what many of these stories suggest, the experience of being a transgender teenager isn’t particularly fun. Being one that’s stuck at a single-sex school and is trying to both actively transition and keep it secret? I’m genuinely surprised that I never lost my mind. I feel like a spy in my own life trying to live, but trying to conceal. It sure does lead to some hilarious moments though, with significant hindsight. At the time I can assure you they were far from fun for the most part.

 

 

My afternoon classes passed with thankfully little incident. The pace at which we return to the semester keeps most people focused on their work and not on each other. I’ve been surprisingly lucky so far and the real challenge will kick in after school ends for the day; girls.

Private schools generally come in two flavors and we are what is called a day school. It means you go home each day and nobody stays there like a boarding school. It’s really simple but you’d be surprised how many people think all private schools are boarding. Anyway, while my dad might let me drive to school I have to make my own way home and that is by public bus. The school has a fleet for most routes but those of us that live a bit further away take public transit. It’s not that awful, and it's more relaxed than the school buses.

The local service stops just outside the school grounds twenty minutes after class gets out and I share it with quite a lot of students from both divisions on our campus. While I narrowly dodged the girls earlier this morning in the common room, I will be stuck with them for an hour now and so far women have scored higher when it comes to smelling a rat.

Gulp.

I reach the stop about five minutes after the final bell as I’ve little reason to stick around and chat with anyone. It isn’t long before Gary arrives along with a knot of other students.

“We made it through the first day huh?” he sighs, looking like his brain has been exhausted of every neuron, all three of them.

I nod and lean back against a tree with my hands in my pockets. I’m trying to look casual like I haven’t spent most of the day on a razor’s edge. “Yeah, just a bunch more to go.”

Gary grins and bobs his head. “Yeah, I just hope they ease off the pace or i might have to actually study this year.”

“You’re never going to actually study, don’t lie slug,” Megan calls out as the sisters arrive with other members of the Girl's Division.

“I might!” Gary manages to actually look hurt. His sister’s expression explains quite clearly how little she believes that statement.

The bus arrives before long and the hoard mounts up. There are about twenty-five of us boarding and it’s pretty full but Gary and myself manage to grab a seat while the sisters take the row in front of us.

“One less day of school till Christmas time!” Megan smiles happily as she spins around to kneel backward on the seat so she’s facing us.

“You’re already focused on that? We’ve still got Homecoming, Halloween, and Thanksgiving before we get to that,” Gary pokes his sister.

I’ve always been rather jealous of the Byrne family. They might all be insane but they have a closeness that I truly long for. My family is far from terrible; my parents love us and my siblings aren’t utter assholes. The problem is that Rob is a year older than me and a senior. He and I are pretty good, but I’m not the brother he thinks I am. I think that forms a bit of a disconnect between the two of us and It makes me quite sad. My older sister Christine and I used to be super close growing up. She’s away this year in Chicago for her first year of college. We drifted apart as we became teenagers because apparently boys and girls aren’t supposed to be that close. I miss her, I really miss her.

“You guys know who you’re going to ask yet?” Kara asks, turning around more delicately in her seat. “It’s only a month or so away. I’ve already been asked by Kyle Martins.”

“Kyle?” Gary seems taken aback. “You said yes to Kyle?”

Kara rolls her eyes and gives him that ‘you’re so stupid’ look that sisters nail every damn time. “Of course not, I just said he asked me.”

“What about you Alex? Any ideas about who you might ask?” Megan asks eying me carefully. “Any girl or, boy, catch your eye?”

She’s been needling me about that for a long time. Megan has had it in her mind that I’m secretly gay and she’s the only one that’s noticed. I really don’t have the heart to tell her that I’ve been called fag, sissy and queer since my Freshman year.

“Nope, probably not going again.”

“You’ve got to go,” Kara protests with a dramatic pout. “It’s a major life event and everyone goes. You don’t even have to go with someone, plenty go by themselves or with friends!”

“It’s just a stupid school dance and a popularity contest. I don’t like or play football, and I don’t want people to think I’m cool, so why bother?” I shrug. “Anyway, you three will all have dates so which friends am I meant to go with exactly?”

Megan looks a little dejected at my flat refusal to entertain their stupid dance. She’s always fancied herself as the defacto matchmaker of the group. “I know you said you didn’t find anyone interesting but that’s got to change eventually right? You can’t go through life not liking anyone.”

I cross my arms, “I just don’t ok? It’s not like I can force myself to be into people. I’m really very happy on my own.” I attempt to keep my tone level and sincere. See, this has been my message for years because it used to be the truth. Before I started on estrogen I really wasn’t even remotely interested in anyone; male, female, or cheesecake. The idea of romance and sex just didn’t enter my little squirrel brain. Technically you would call it Acearo; Asexual and Aromantic. Honestly, I had zero interest at all. The truth is I think those people actually mentally acknowledge they have no interest, I honestly just didn’t notice. I think a large portion of that was that I genuinely was so wrapped up in my identity and my gender that sex didn’t even get any time left.

This would be likely my continuous state of being for the duration of high school if female hormones hadn’t had an unfortunate side effect: They had woken up my sexuality and unfortunately for me, it turns out I’m incredibly straight; as a girl. How did I discover this life-changing fact you ask? I was away with family on vacation and a group of boys at one of the villas near ours were regular surfers. It turns out the sight of teen boys soaking wet in nothing but boardshorts is a violent awakening for the latent sexuality of a developing girl. It honestly scared me.

Naturally, in my current situation, I can’t even consider acting on my feelings. To the world, I’m a boy and they would see me as gay. There’s nothing wrong with that obviously, but I have no interest in a boy that would be attracted to me as another boy, even as a feminine one. The only boy I could possibly even consider would be one who saw me as a girl and nothing else. Chances of that happening in an all-boys school? Zero. Stop hoping for a whirlwind steamy romance with an enlightened boy who is both hot and willing to suspend his sense of disbelief. It’s not gonna happen.

“Leave him alone Meg,” Kara interjects kindly. “Alex is who he is and he’s our friend. We’d just enjoy his company there as a friend. If he doesn’t want to go then that’s his choice.”

I groan loudly now I’m caught in the sister trap. “See Megan I can turn down because she’s easy to ignore. You Kara, I can’t because you make me feel guilty,” I muttered glumly.

Kara smiles broadly and puffs out her chest. “Mom does say that guilt is my superpower,” she agrees proudly. “I can get anyone to feel awful about anything with very little effort.”

“It’s the cute little sister thing, nothing more,” Gary mutters rolling his eyes. “Everyone just likes you because you’re the baby.”

“That one doesn’t work for me.” I offer. “I’m the baby too in my family and they just ignore me.”

“That’s because you’re so mopey and depressing,” Megan pouts, poking me in the chest with an accusatory finger. Of course, this is that moment where the unknowing friend nails me right in the boob. Not just anywhere, but dead center, nipple shot with an extended finger. The pain that courses through me is like a bolt of lightning, It’s all I can do not to yelp audibly.

Megan gives me a weird look and I brush it off by slapping away her arm and giving her the finger. “I’m not depressing!” I hiss through gritted teeth. Keeping my voice even is not easy. I’ve only ever hit myself in the boob once before. It was a month ago and I walked into a doorframe. I was on my knees for ten minutes. Right now I cannot afford to explain to them why my chest hurts. Some careful breathing and the throbbing pain is under control. For those of you that have never been poked in the boob, I can only compare it to a boy getting kicked in the junk. It really, really hurts.

“I mean with his hair and looks he should totally win baby of the family points but I think she’s right,” Gary grins. “You’re too emo and everyone just feels bad for you.”

“Can we manage a conversation where I’m not the center of attention perhaps?” I grumble, still feeling extremely sore from Megan’s prod. “What’s your common room like?” I ask the girls. They’re both in our year and I know the Girls Division has its own equivalent. It’s just far less likely for the boys to visit there and somewhat discouraged.

“It’s pretty good,” Kara enthuses. “It’s not go the snack bar like yours but it's super comfy and it’s got a bunch of work areas too for us to study if we want to.”

The topic is successfully changed and the debate moves on to the difference between our two divisions of the school. I’m able to blend into the background finally where I can avoid people asking me probing questions like ‘How are you?’.

I’ll admit, this is where I’m most comfortable; just out of the spotlight. I like being part of things but not the focus. When I’m the focus, people notice me. Noticing me is bad as you can appreciate. It’s honestly a pretty awful way to live, but it’s what I have to do to one day have the freedom I dream of. It sounds awful but I can manage.

Thirty minutes later, the bus drops us at the edge of our neighborhood and we disembark for the brief walk home. We’re some of the last kids on the bus as we live the furthest from school in this direction. It means it’s pretty quiet by the time we get off and it’s just the four of us walking. I’ve always enjoyed the trip home, it’s given me time to think, listen to music, and unwind.

Gary and Kara are walking ahead of me talking about some anime when I feel Megan slide up alongside me as we walk.

“What?” I ask, giving her a healthy dose of side-eye.

“Nothing.” She replies casually, shrugging without actually looking at me. “How’s your chest?”

Le gulp. “It’s fine, why do you ask?”

I can see a half grin on her lips. This bitch knows something and has the balls (Irony) to play coy here. “Why’d it hurt like that?”

“Because you poked me, why else? So?”

“I bet that’s why you wear hoodies too right?” she adds and my heart goes cold.

“I… don’t know what you mean?” This was most no bueno. If she was onto me this could rattle everything.

“Gynocomastia duh.” She gives me a sympathetic look and smiles. This is not what I was expecting at all and I’m utterly speechless. “Don’t tell anyone but Gary had it for a while. They got him on some stuff and it went away. I can tell from how you flipped out when I poked you; sorry by the way.”

Somehow she’s managed to grasp the wrong end of an entirely different stick. She’s noticed exactly what I was trying to hide but her brain has somehow processed it as something entirely different… yet the same. This is an outcome I had not foreseen or considered but it does give me a plausible camouflage going forward should I get the right situation.

“Um, yeah, thanks I guess,” I mumble trying to sound embarrassed for that totally boy reason. “It’s kinda humiliating, I didn’t want to tell anyone.”

Megan scoffed and patted me on the back, “Sheesh, don’t worry about it ok? You can get it fixed, no problem. Gary’s doctor said it’s normal for boys your age. Can happen to anyone.”

I looked at my feet as we walked and nodded along to what she had said. “I guess I’ll speak to my mom and see if we can see the doctor.”

“Ah you spoiled it.” Megan groaned slapping her leg in mock frustration. “If only you’d actually seemed reluctant to tell your mom.”

Kara and Gary were already walking up their driveway, lost in their own world talking about whatever weeb crap they were currently watching and totally ignoring the scene Megan was creating out here on the sidewalk. I stopped and stared at her. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Megan shook her head and gestured up to the house. “Come on up and we’re going to have a chat, Alex. I’m pretty sure you’re going to need it.”

Goose officially cooked: please send help and a fork.

 

 

Let me paint this picture for you because this is one of those pivotal moment type of deals. I’m sat in Megan’s bedroom waiting for her to get back. She’s downstairs talking to her mom and grabbing drinks for our ‘study’ time as she’s spinning it. Her room is the typical teen girl paradise of dusty pastels and white furniture that I honestly expected it to be. It’s certainly not one I’ve been in before besides my own sister’s at home but she moved on from pastels at age thirteen. The bed isn’t a canopy as thankfully she’s not that far gone to girlyness but it’s big and fluffy and honestly looks kind of amazing. I’m perched on her desk chair awaiting sentencing.

I have a deep sinking feeling that Megan has cracked my subterfuge wide open and her gynecomastia angle was some ruthlessly cunning bullshit. This chick goes up three notches on my threat board going forward. Where do we stand? I’m pretty convinced she knows I have boobs and I’m pretty convinced she knows that they’re not an accident either. How much more is entirely up for play but my cards are now a lot closer to my chest, which might be part of the problem.

The door opens as Megan returns with a pair of tall glasses of coke in her hands. Kicking it closed with a foot she offers one to me and places hers on the nightstand. I figure I can attempt to bluff her out and hope she keeps quiet or wait and see what cards she’s going to play.

“Isn’t your mom going to be worried you closed the door with a boy up here?” I ask, hoping for some reprieve from her private torture chamber.

Megan grins and shrugs nonchalantly, “She didn’t mention it actually.”

I know her inference. I’m pretty sure a lot of people think I’m gay or otherwise inclined. I accepted that possibility a long time ago because I didn’t actually care. It’s hard to be offended for being called something you aren’t when it doesn’t offend your sensibility of what you are. Being seen as gay is fine; I’ve no male ego to be offended. The simple fact is that I don’t have it in me to play both a macho girl hunter and a boy. I’m really not into them at all that way.

“So.” She announces dropping onto her bed and fixing me with a grin. “Where shall we start? Hmm, are you maybe a little warm?”

“Huh, no?”

The truth is that I am absolutely too damn warm; I’m boiling. I suspect that this skank has turned the heat up when she was downstairs because September should not feel like June. If this is her opening salvo, touché Megan, because I can feel a bead of sweat dripping down my spine.

“You sure?” She grins broadly. She reminds me of a Great White Shark circling her prey. “I know you have boobs Alex so why pretend otherwise?” Take your jacket and hoodie off, it’s just us in here.”

The problem is that I know she’s right and she knows that I know that she knows that I know… God, even I’m lost.

So far, her opening salvo is exposure; I can pretend to be fine and suffer which leaves her assumptions without much evidence other than her inference. Alternatively, I can comply and leave myself at her mercy and see what happens. I can’t lie; the idea of someone knowing about me is really quite tempting. My desire to share this part of me is so overwhelming that I’ve fought it for so long. I let my shoulders sag, ditch the suit jacket and unzip my hoodie. I give her a wilting look and shrug it off my shoulders. I feel far cooler straight away and I know she’s won.

Megan doesn’t say anything at first, but I know she’s looking at me more closely, trying to see the extent of my chest. Fuck it, I’ve hidden long enough. I sit upright, pulling myself out of my perpetual hunch, and for once, don’t hide myself. “It’s not gynecomastia.”

Megan smiles gently, “I know.”

I adjust my posture and how I’m sitting to be more comfortable more me. If I’m going to tell someone, I’m damn well going to be me when I do so. My slump and slouch might be part of my camouflage but it won’t get in the way now. Pulling my legs together and sitting up straight, I know my chest is far more visible now, I can see that from the look in her eyes. Why are words hard? You have this image in your mind of the perfect reveal, the perfect statement to declare to the world who and what you are but you just stumble like a moron because your heart is in your mouth and you’re shaking like a leaf.

“I’m trans…um, I’m a transgender, um girl? I’m a girl.” I stumble and trip over the words I’ve been desperate to say for so long and make an utter ass of it. In levels of coming out, it’s about there with tripping over my own bra, if I had one.

I can’t look up, not at Megan. I just sit here staring at my hands in my lap, feeling a hotness that isn’t part of her torture plan burning up my face as I await her response. I’m not expecting the hug that wraps around me.

“I had some idea you know, but I wasn’t certain sweetie,” Megan whispers as she envelops me in a hug. “It’s ok, you’re safe here.”

So, yeah, as you expected this is the part where I blub my guts out and break down now the emotional Rubicon has been crossed. It’s not pretty at all honestly; pretty crying is reserved for when you’re faking it. Real crying, the real emotional outpouring is ugly as hell. Snot, tears, nose blowing and strange faces are all part of the deal. After an unknown amount of time, I managed to pull myself together. I must look like a total sight to Megan but she doesn’t seem to care.

I tuck my hair back behind my ears and try and pull myself together. We’ve ended up sitting on her bed together and now that the storm has passed I can honestly say that a significant weight has been lifted from me.

“So you don’t hate me then?” I ask sheepishly, hoping that the stubborn snot bubble has disappeared finally.

Megan smiles and shakes her head. “No, of course not sweetie but… wow, this is big.”

“Yeah kinda.” I chuckle darkly. “Life ending big.”

“Your parents don’t know?” She asks gently, her expression shifting to one of surprise when I shake my head. “Wait, so… all of this.” She gestures at me. “They have no idea? How?”

“You get real good at hiding who you are over time,” I reply. “Having to hide everything about my personality, and my feelings meant that my appearance was just another level of disguise.”

“So you’re not seeing a doctor?”

“No,” I admit slowly. “Now I know you’re going to say it’s dangerous and stupid to take things without supervision but I did my research and I had no choice. There’s too much at risk; I couldn’t spend years being psychoanalyzed and told to wait for some far-off specific date or age. I couldn’t let myself…” I take a deep breath and try and fight back the tears I know are close. “I couldn’t become a man.”

Megan shakes her head and runs a finger along my cheek. “You know, now that I can see it, I don’t even know how anyone sees you as a boy.”

I laugh for the first time in our conversation. “Most people don’t, but people who know me all have this preconceived idea of what I am so they just ignore the other signs. Plus, I dress and behave to hide it all… kinda.”

“I’m so sorry for poking you,” Megan grins slyly. “I know how much that hurts.”

“Asshole,” I grumble not entirely still mad at her for it while I rub my chest. “That really does hurt, I’ve only banged them twice so far and it’s been a shock.”

“How long?” she asks.

“Six months nearly,” I admit grinning sheepishly. “It’s becoming a bit much to hide now.”

“You’re afraid to tell your parents, aren’t you? Do you think they’ll get mad?”

I nod, it’s been my fear the whole time. I’m pretty convinced it won’t fit with their plans for my life and if they don’t toss me out on my backside entirely, I’ll be sent off for correction lest the neighbors find out. “I’m afraid they’ll ship me off to military school or a therapist or something,” I murmur. I didn’t think I had a choice.”

“Oh, baby.” Megan sighs, wrapping her arms around me. “I’m the first person you’ve told aren’t I?”

I nod into her shoulder, not really able to form words at that moment and she hugs me tighter. “I’m sorry for forcing it out of you then” she mumbles into my shoulder. “I’ll help you ok? With whatever you need.”

“You don’t need to do that, I’ve managed this long on my own.”

Megan shakes her head. “With girl stuff or with hiding girl stuff, you’ve got me in your corner ok? No expectations, no requirements., I’m just here for you ok? I don’t know how I’d cope with bottling so much up and keeping it from literally everyone. Do you ever actually relax?”

I smirk at the very idea of relaxing, “When I’m asleep maybe.”

Megan looks me over critically and raises an eyebrow. “So let’s see what we’re working within either direction then… girl up or boy up, let’s see… Wait, no, ok, you’re wearing underwear right?” she jumps up and runs over to her door and ensures it’s shut. “Off with everything.”

“Everything?” I balk, “No way!”

Megan rolls her eyes. “Keep your underwear on but everything else… off,” she demands. “Look, you’re a girl, right? So am I, it’s fine. Now stop stalling and strip, I want to see what we’re working with if we’re going to try and hide this”

Reluctantly I unfasten my belt, which is mostly all that is holding up my pants, and let them drop to the floor. Stepping out, I begin to unbutton my shirt. “This feels super creepy with you watching me you know,” I grumble at her. “Can you make me feel less like a cheap hooker?”

Megan crosses her arms and taps her foot impatiently and simply raises an eyebrow. With a sigh, I slip my shirt from my shoulders and stand there in a tee and my way-too-tight boxer shorts. I can barely bring myself to look at her as I remove my clothes, I don’t know what she’s going to think of my strangeness. I turn around and pull the shirt off and cover my chest with my hands before turning back to face her. The look on her face is exactly what I was expecting; total shock.

“Dude, you’re a girl,” Megan splutters. The look on her face is genuinely one of those I wish I had a camera ready for. I don’t think I’ve seen a human being look so confused before as she stands there in front of me..

“How the hell did I not see any of this?” she murmurs walking around me. You know, because I didn’t feel enough like meat without her doing a three hundred and sixty degree assessment.

“I guess I dress to hide it.” I shrug. “Can I put my clothes back on?”

“Nah,” she replies nonchalantly as she tosses me her dressing gown. “Put this on.”

“I’m not wearing your clothes or dressing up for you.” I assert, hoping this isn’t the plot to some bad trans-fiction adventure where I get dolled up in her frillies and her mom thinks I’m some random girlfriend.

“No, don’t be daft, we don’t have enough time for that.” she offers dismissively. “You’re right though, that’s going to be hard to conceal. What are you doing for gym class?”

I tie the sash on her terry cloth dressing gown and sit back on the bed. “I have no idea.” I sigh with resignation. It’s Wednesday and I have no freaking clue what I’m going to do.”

I will admit that sitting here in her dressing gown, not actually having to hunch or compress my posture is monumentally liberating. There’s nothing boyish or girlish, it just feels gloriously comfortable.

“There is no way you can change in there with the boys or go out there in gym clothes.” Megan points out looking almost horrified. “Your secret will be exposed the second you take off your shirt, fake an illness?”

“Maybe for one, but it won’t help with the next week onward,” I admit reluctantly.

“I’ll think about it and find you something to do,” she waves the topic away. “But your appearance is going to be tough even in school. I knew something was off this morning but after this…” she gestures at my body. “I honestly can’t unsee it.”

“That ugly huh?”

Megan sits down beside me and shakes her head, “No, not ugly honey. You’re… really average; for a girl your age.”

I let out a breath I think that I’ve been holding for six months. “What the hell can I do?”

Megan seems to ponder the idea for a moment. “Short of cutting your hair off and growing a beard, not much we can do. Obviously, we need to flatten those things out.” She gestures at my left boob. “That’s the big problem, pardon the pun.”

“I’m considering using sports bandages, Rob has a bunch from football.”
Megan nods along with my idea. “That or a sports bra.”

“Someone touches my back and feels a strap and I’m dead, a bandage I can explain as an injury.” I counter.

“How big are you?” She asks, tilting her head to one side like a curious puppy. “Like, A, B?”

My expression conveys my lack of remote knowledge of the subject. That and I haven’t dared measure and make things real. I figured I’d ignore it all and hope I’d make it to college first.

Megan rolls her eyes and pulls me to my feet and ruffles the lapels of the dressing gown. “Off with this, I want to measure you.”

“Do you have to?” I moan clutching my lapels and my dignity like a fifties housewife.

Megan ignores me and pulls the tie open and forces the gown off my shoulders. “Stop being such a prude, this is normal, now stand still and let me get one of my bras.”

“I am not dressing up Megan.” I insist as firmly as I can while covering my chest. This is one of those firsts in life and a valuable lesson for anyone else out there in my position. If like me, you are having a conversation with your breasts in your hands, you really don’t have as much authority as you might expect.

“I just want to compare sizes, you’re a similar size to me in the torso so we should get a good idea of cup size at least. If we know that going forward we know what we have to work with”

Sound like a trap? Absolutely, but at the time I had no idea why. What turned out to be far more amusing was that neither did she.

Begrudgingly and not without a little huffing, I allowed Megan to strap me into one of her bras. I will admit it was quite amusing when she had to tighten the straps and use the tightest hooks to get it to fit my slightly smaller torso than her own. The cups were far emptier than hers as we both expected, but in a feeling I can only describe as both joyful and terrifying, they were far from empty.

What surprised me most was the feeling of security and support it gave me, it managed to make me feel a way I’ve never felt before. Did I put the cart before the horse with this transition crap? Absolutely. I’m doing all of this ass-backward, but standing here with my breasts in a bra felt utterly out of this world correct.

“I don’t know how I feel about this,” I admit, jiggling my chest in the bra as I stare down at my honest to god boobage. “This is crazy.”

Megan scratches her head and grins sheepishly. “No kidding.”
The mirror in front of me is complicated. I see a teenage girl in a boy's boxer shorts and a bra, but I also see myself. I see my flaws and I see what I consider my male features. It’s a confusing image but one that I accept looks more female than male currently. A small part of my brain wants to see what I look like in girl clothes, but the self-preserving part tells me how terrible an idea that is.

You think my brain is messed up? Imagine you’re taking active steps to transition and live your true life, but at the same time have to hide it. Can you actually fathom how much shame and mental trauma that generates? Answer? Quite a lot.

The very fact that I made it this far in one piece was a true shock to me in hindsight. It would take me a lot of years and a huge therapist's bill to unfuck the mess that was my self-esteem at this point in time. Honestly, I had more therapy for that than I did for being transgender. That shit was obvious.

“I don’t know how you manage,” Megan says softly, snapping me from my reverie. I wrap my arm around myself, under my breasts, for the first time not attempting to hide them or worried that they’ll show.

“I have to,” I admit sadly. “One day this will all be worth it.”

Megan smiles kindly, we’re sharing a moment. It’s really cool because it’s my first moment like this… girl to girl. We know what we each mean and we don’t need to say it and that feels unusual but correct. The problem is that the first cherished moment of shared bonding is ruined when the bedroom door slams open and Kara piles into the room at full speed. “Meg I….”

Kara slides to a halt in the middle of the floor, I’m standing there in one of Megan’s bras with my hair loose and she’s speechless. Neither of us is moving or speaking, but we’re both staring at Kara.

“Uh, Alex?” She asks slowly, very uncertainly, as though she’s suffering sudden onset brain damage.

Megan snaps out of her stupor and rushes past her sister to slam the door closed. “What the fuck Kar? Since when do you barge in here when my door is closed?”

“Uh, all the time, I thought you were alone?” She fires back totally forgetting me until my reaching for the dressing gown catches her attention. “Waitagoddamnminutewhatthefuckisthis?”

I have no way to reply to this, I’m basically frozen in panic. I’m standing here in one of my female friend's bedrooms in her bra and my underwear, my hair is down and my body is on full display. The cat that had been in the bag is now enjoying a comfortable career as a writer for the Times after publishing its best-selling autobiography, ‘How I Got out of the Bag’.

I have just enough mental fortitude to grab the gown and tie it tightly around my waist. I know how I probably look but that’s the furthest from my mind currently. I’m on the edge of hyperventilating, and I’m looking back and forth between Meg and Kara uncertain as to what’s going to occur next.

“Kara you can’t say a word about this,” Megan answers sternly, fixing her sister with a glare. “You cannot tell anyone about Alex.”

Kara turns to stare at me properly, her eyes wandering the length of my body and face. I know what she’s seeing; it’s the closest to the real me that anyone has ever seen so far. My hair is loose and I’m wearing Megan’s pastel green robe. My legs are exposed and my chest and waist are quite visible in the thin garment. I look female yet she know’s its me, Alex, her male friend. I’m well aware of what I look like this way and it makes me feel conflicted. I’m both overjoyed to be seen by other people and terrified of the potential this causes.

“We can explain,” Megan insists, eying her sister carefully. “You can’t tell Mom and Dad ok?”

Kara looks dumbfounded, she’s clearly struggling to associate what she sees with what she knows and it’s breaking her brain. If this was a cartoon, steam would be pouring out of her ears.

“Alex?” she asks dumbly, “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

My heart rate is slowing and I’m able to find my voice finally. “Kara, this is kinda complicated, well,” I pause and mentally shrug. “It’s not; I’m trans.”

“You are?” “she blinks, “How do you look like a girl? I came in here and you had boobs, and hips and…” she trails off looking vaguely confused.

I go through the entire explanation again. It’s actually a lot easier now that I’ve told Megan. She helps me with her sister and together we fill in my sordid antics up until her shenanigans with a bra, a bra that I’m still wearing. That and I’m sitting here in a short green robe… with girls, as a girl. Holy shit this is actually happening.

Megan smirks and shakes her head as I finish my retelling of the story. “You know, this entire time I’ve not seen a single male mannerism from you, it’s uncanny.”

“I mean he was never that manly before” Kara points out before she whinces visibly. “Oh gosh, Alex I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s totally fine,” I shrug, feeling my boobs jiggle in the bra. That’s a weird as-heck experience. “I mean that’s kinda a compliment.”

“It is?” Kara blinks.

I nod, “Sure it is; It would be weird if I was manly and a girl.” I shrug sheepishly.

Kara seems to get it. I think somehow she thinks this is happening against my desires. Like some genetic spaghetti that I can’t control despite my explaining quite clearly otherwise.
“This is so weird.” she breathes shaking her head.

“You’re not going to tell anyone are you?” I ask nervously. Honestly, I’m not sure what she’s going to do. Megan is one thing I hadn’t budgeted for, but Kara is truly breaking the bank.

“So will you be going to our school?”

Her question is innocent but I know there’s absolutely no way that is happening. This is where we diverge from the typical fiction fodder, sorry.

“What, and do a quick change in a phone booth each day? No way Kara. All I want to do is hide it till I get to college.”

“Hang on, your parents don’t know about… all of this?” she gestures in my general direction.

“It turns out people don’t pay that much attention when you’re a depressed loner,” I admit with a sardonic smile.

I want this to be abundantly clear, my parents don’t mistreat me or neglect me in any way at all. They were great parents in most respects. We never wanted for anything when it came to school or our health but we were actively encouraged to work to earn our own money. If I wasn’t transgender and felt like my siblings I would have had the happiest of childhoods imaginable.

The difference in my case is my whole not being their son deal. It’s gotten in the way for a long time and it’s driven a wedge between us that I hope to one day repair. I also realized that if I withdrew from my family, they wouldn’t notice my true nature. Originally this was just about my behavior, but it came in really handy when I took matters into my own hands.

This is why I can exist in a world where my mom doesn’t quite notice how feminine I’m getting or how her son has what we’ve established to be a full A cup’s worth of boobs.

“How the hell are you planning to hide all of this?” Kara asks when I’m done explaining everything, including my hair-brained scheme to stay in the boys school. “Do you even realize how crazy this sounds?”

“Not like I have a ton of choice is it?” I mutter sourly. “If I come out, I run the risk of getting sent off to be ‘fixed’ or straight up disowned. My only other option was to suffer and wait meaning that I slowly turn into my brother; neither outcome is a success really. My only choice was to do something to stop this nightmare and hope I can hang on long enough to be the real me someplace safe that I control.”

“I don’t think you’re going to survive until Thanksgiving like this,” Meg jokes softly. I know she means well, and I know deep down that’s great, but it’s also terrifying. I know that as much as I joke and make light, this is serious business.

“I’ve got to try.”

We continued to talk while I got myself dressed again. I’m sure you want me to say something like ‘It’s all girls here, tee hee’ but it was simpler to say that I had nothing left to hide, aside from one thing nobody in that room wanted to see, including me.

Kara shook her head when I was fully dressed again in the clothes I’d arrived in. “Honestly, I can’t see you as male anymore babe, I know you look the same as this morning but It’s like… we opened the box on Schrödinger’s experiment.”

“So I’m a poisoned cat?” I frown, recalling the whole cat in a box with poison experiment we’d been covering in Physics. I adjust the tie around my neck and does rather feel more like a noose after this afternoon’s shenanigans.

“No you’re not a cat dumbass,” Kara grins, “I just… I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner.”

“I didn’t exactly want you to, that was the point.” I roll my eyes.

Megan elbows her sister and tosses me my bag. “We’re going to play dumb with Gary and everyone else, got it?” We’re going to keep Alex’s cover, as long as… I see her literally freeze over the pronoun like it’s a landmine. I know she wants to say she, but she’s resisting the urge for my sake. “he, needs us to.”

I gave her a grateful smile in return and heaved the bag over my shoulder and made my exit. I jogged down the stairs and was almost at the door when I heard my name called from the family room.

“Alex, that you? What are you doing here?” Gary wandered into the hallway in dirty sweatpants with a bag of chips in his hand and his xbox headset over his ears, the classiest example of manhood.

“I was hanging with Meg, why?”

Gary gave me a funny look, “You never hang out with my sister bro, what’s up?”

“They’re ahead of us in physics, I wanted her notes is all.”

Gary seems to accept my academic ploy without question. The idea of schoolwork to him at this time of day is difficult to stomach so he reverts to disinterest. “Right, ok, well, see you tomorrow I guess.”

I wave and beat a retreat before he can question why, in the first week of school, the girls are somehow ahead of us academically. My friend is wonderful, but he’s not the brightest sometimes. Gary if you ever read this… surprise I guess?

I make it home a little after five and head straight up to my bedroom almost immediately. Mom is home and making dinner and my sibling creature Rob is somewhere in his cave judging by the awful music I can hear through the walls.

I ditch my school clothes quickly behind the locked door of my room. Somehow my chest feels naked now without Megan’s bra. I can’t think about such things; going down that road will get me caught. I climb into my customary oversized hoodie and baggy jeans. They are as much a practical disguise as they are a comfort to me. It used to be that I wore clothes like this to hide my shitty body; it let me pretend I didn’t look like a boy. It’s ironic that the same clothes now mask my burgeoning womanhood. I could make a long and complicated analogy about how one prison can serve two purposes, but that would take effort and I’m a teenager, ok?

I have a couple of hours before dinner, so I settle down and get to work on my assignments. First day you say? Yeah, we do, welcome to private school.

 

 

“How was school boys?”

My brother Rob shrugs at our father’s question and stuffs more potato into his gaping maw. “Ok I guess,” he mumbles, barely managing to avoid spraying the table.

“Robert, don’t talk with your mouth full!” my mother chides from across the table. “What about you Alex dear?”

I shrug and swallow my own food like a human being with decent table manners.“It was okay I suppose. Not much to really tell I’f I’m being honest; it was only the first day after all.”

“Why can’t you answer normally like your brother?” Mom returns her attention to my more unevolved sibling. “He took the time to swallow his food before speaking in full sentences.”

Rob rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He’s heard this story a million times. Mom has always resorted to playing us against the other. This is one of those parental guilt tactics that moms are so amazingly good at. Somehow, one of us will have screwed up and the other will be a paragon of perfection, this will be pointed out to us ad nauseum. At the time I hated it, but what teen didn’t? Many years later, game would respect game.

“You trying out for football this year?” Dad asks me casually, glancing in my direction. He has done this every year since I started middle school and he’s convinced that I’ll turn into Rob with just a little socially acceptable violence in padding. By golly it made him the man he is today apparently and he’s desperate to turn his youngest into a chip off the old block. There was once a time when I would placate him and offer excuses. If I make the right noises I’ll get him off my back, but these days I just tell him the truth.

“No Dad,” I sigh. “I’m still not even slightly interested.”

“I don’t see why not,” he counters undaunted. “It did great things for your brother.”

“And my brother has the IQ of a gas station corndog, what’s your point?”

Rob flicks a slice of carrot at me from across the table and sneers. “At least I’m not a scrawny little dweeb that needs his ass saving every day.”

Mom’s glare halts Big Brother in his tracks. This is pretty typical of us honestly, and I don’t hate it. Our family is as dysfunctional as any, but we still love each other. Rob has defended me at school, and I’ve been to his games to watch him play. I may not really be his brother but I do love him, even if I really enjoy pressing his buttons.

We finish dinner and go our separate ways for the evening. Mom and Dad settle in front of the TV and I make best speed for my room; my loner disguise is pretty effective these days in distracting from the truth of the matter. I can tell Mom is worried at times, but there’s not much I can do. We’re a traditional family, and my parents have good serious careers.

We’re loosely Methodist and only tend to do church on major holidays or events. Thank god we’re not some of those loopy wackjobs that are starting to spread across the country. I’m pretty sure I’d be dead already if we had one of those fire and brimstone pastors. Between our general ‘Christian moral values’ as a family and the company my parents keep, I’m well aware that my coming out would be a problem.

Whatever their personal feelings about trans people or me in particular, I know the truth coming out would affect their lives and people’s views of them. Dad and his job, Rob and his classmates… Mom would probably be cast out by her friends. I shouldn’t be putting everyone else before me, but I can’t help it; it’s always the way I’ve been.

The evening is quiet and thankfully free from new drama. It’s only the first day of school and everything’s already fallen apart. People have noticed some changes, though thankfully not what those changes mean. Two whole people, two human beings know my secret. I’m not sure how to mentally unpack that one, but considering they’re cool about it, I guess that’s… good?

I guess we shall see what the future holds, but for now, bring on the black oblivion of sleep. Something tells me this isn’t going to get any easier with time.

 

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

 

 

Now, this isn’t the kind of transgender tale where I go crazy with details and describe every single day in infinite minutia. You won’t find me describing my breakfast or my morning shower unless it becomes relevant and dear god I hope it doesn’t. That would truly be a tragic state of affairs indeed. If you only came here to read about descriptions of my panties and the frilliness of my frock you would be a little disappointed I’m afraid.

The second day of school was considerably easier than the first now that the great social bandaid had been torn off the collective student body. People, it seemed, were paying each other far less attention now the threat of actual schoolwork existed. They had caught up with the people they wanted to and anything weird had been processed. It was time to get back to business and while our teachers were willing to give us the inch of a day, but not the mile or two to get re-acclimatized to the system.

The sisters didn’t join us before school today, so I was saved from the awkwardness of socializing with people that both knew and didn’t know about my ‘inner reality’ (Pick your choice of metaphor here). That entire concept was new for me; until this point, nobody at all had known and it had been comfortable in its own way. Sure, it was terrifying, but it was a fear I was used to; I knew its limitations.

Now I was in the wilds of the unknown. Other people had a controlling hand on my secrecy and it was terrifying. A good part of me was relieved that someone else now knew; it did however also create far more opportunities for exposure. If I wanted to keep this under wraps I would have to keep my guard higher than ever.

Homeroom was a non-event and I managed to suffer through my morning classes with little to no fanfare. Education was back on the menu and so far, thankfully, I’m back to being nobody important. I’m very grateful that to most of my classmates, I am just that runt Winters. Nothing to see here folks! Nothing at all!

Lunch and the antics of Count Brandon Von Fükwitt went without any real incident today. Turns out, doing what he asks takes a lot of the sting out of his behavior and he really can’t emasculate someone that doesn’t want to be masculine. Is it irritating? Yes, but it’s easier than causing a fuss. If I keep my mouth shut I’m less tempted to say something stupid.

My major problem with bullies is normally my mouth; it’s big. Not physically of course, but metaphorically it’s huge. When people are assholes I have a troubling tendency to call them on their shit. If you combine this with my insignificant stature then this is a situation that typically ends with me getting a good hiding. As such, I’ve learned to keep my mouth closed and suffer in silence.

The truth is that I’ve also discovered that if you don’t react, they generally leave you alone. Is this approach right? No, of course not, but high school is about survival. All I know is that one day I’m going to be the real me, and someone that will stand up for herself. Until then, I’ll make do so that I can see that day.

My afternoon consisted of history and German classes. Neither of which contained any transgender drama as you might imagine. I would describe them in detail but you would be quite bored unless you have more than a passing interest in describing your lunch or the First World War… or describing your Mittagessen im Ersten Weltkrieg. No? I didn’t think so.

Truth be told, after last night, the moment I was most worried about was the bus ride home. With my history, you can imagine I’m slow to trust people. I can’t lie though, a tiny part of me is really excited to let this out finally.

I follow Gary out to the bus stop a little reluctantly after the final bell. I trusted Meg and Kara most days of the week and with almost anything. The crux of the matter isn’t that I believe they will deliberately out me, but rather, that they would slip and make a mistake. The entire reason I had kept my secret to myself was the same reason that spies kept close circles; the fewer people knew something, the fewer chances for it to be revealed. Granted, three wasn’t significant, but it now included two people with far less invested in the game than me.

The girls were already waiting by the time we arrived at the stop and I gave them a little embarrassed wave before stopping myself as I realized how girly it probably looks.

“Uh, Hey.” I gruff out in my manliest voice. For the record, it’s not very manly.

“Hey Alex,” Meg grinned. “Gary not bore you to death yet?”

“He’s been trying but somehow, my dreams have yet to come true.”

Gary barely has time to scowl at me as the bus pulls up beside us. We all piled aboard for our journey home amongst the throng of school kids all desperate to get away from the place we tolerate.

“Alex, come sit with me,” Meg called grabbing me by the hand and dragging me down into a row of seats towards the rear of the bus.

I shoot her a hard look that I hope translated into Meganese to ‘Don’t say or do anything weird.’ but her stupid grin seemed to suggest otherwise. Kara and Gary following behind drop into the row in front and we set off for home.

“So why the hell are you suddenly so friendly with my sisters dude?” Gary asks, turning around in his seat to face us.

“Can I not be?” I ask innocently.

“We’ve got a similar study style and Alex is helping me with Algebra.” Megan offers her brother, smiling innocently.

Gary frowns and looks between the pair of us. “You said you were getting Physics notes from her yesterday.”

Shit, consistency of story is the first place a good conspiracy falls apart.

“Uh.”

Gary’s eyes narrow. “Dude, Meg… you’re not…”

I look at Gary, Gary looks at Megan, Megan looks at Kara, Kara looks at me, I look at Megan, Megan looks at Gary, Gary looks confused. Three of the four of us burst out laughing, can you guess which?

“Oh my god ew.” Megan gags. “I’m not… I’m not interested in Alex like that.” she rolls her eyes.

“Can’t they just be friends Gary?” Kara asks without looking up as she flicks through a graphic novel. “Boys and girls can be friends.”

“They’re up to something, I can tell.” Gary narrows his eyes and looks at us both. “I don’t like it.”

Megan shrugs nonchalantly. “If you must know, Alex is helping me with Algebra this semester. His Physics story was a cover because he didn’t want to embarrass me. I really can’t afford to fail this class and he’s just better than I am.”

Nice Megan; self-deprecating, logical, and most important for a good cover; boring as hell. Who really wants to dig into remedial algebra lessons? Nobody. This girl has a future as an intelligence operative.

Gary shakes his head and sticks his headphones before proceeding to ignore us.

Meg glances over at me and smiles. Suddenly I don’t feel quite so alone. She knows what we avoided and she knows what it means to me. I take my comments back; having someone who is in the loop and knows why it means so much to me is more important than I realized. I’m not alone now.

 

 

Wednesday Morning started out exactly like Tuesday; everyone in the common room was mostly focused on their own business and gravitated towards their individual friend groups. That’s one of the real benefits of high school if you want to go unnoticed; you might all know each other, but generally, people stick to their cliques and don’t bother the others. For me, that’s the nerds. I’ve told you all of this before, but it’s the best place to hide if you don’t fit in. Even in my precarious state of existence, there's always someone weirder than you.

Homeroom completed, we were kicked out and sent off on our way for our first classes. For me this morning that was Chemistry. I’ll admit, it’s not my strongest subject, but I’m working hard at it. I’ll need a reasonable grade for medicine and I am maintaining a 3.9 GPA at the moment. I need to improve that if I want my best chance and it won’t be coming from Phys Ed that’s for darn sure.

Speaking of which, today is the first Gym class of the semester. I have yet to find a valid excuse to avoid it and I'm running out of time. It starts after lunch, so I have the morning classes to work out something viable or I’m totally screwed. Megan is absolutely right; there really is no way I can actually change with the guys. It would be like throwing a Prada bag to a gaggle of Karens.

Have you ever tried to get out of something you didn’t want to do? It ends up just turning your mind into absolute brain fog. You become so hyper-focused on finding a solution that you miss everything obvious and simple. Had I considered just faking an illness that day and skipping? Sure, but when your mother is a Doctor that idea is basically impossible. The same goes for just skipping class or ditching after lunch. At a school like this, that kind of thing makes it back to your parents almost instantly and results in international sanctions from the parental UN Council. No, any solution I come up with needs to come from within school and there alone. More importantly, it has to pass the parental smell test… Difficult eh?

Classes finish up and I’m sitting at the lunch table. Honestly, I’m considering going home early and just not showing up. Sure I’d take some heat for it, but so far, it's been the best idea I can come up with. I may get found out but it will buy me some precious time. I simply cannot get exposed at school above all else.

“God this fish is awful,” Lord Brandon sneers, shoving his plate to one side. “I’m shocked they’d serve this to us with what my Father pays.”

Rick, the junior I met the other day, takes a bite and chews thoughtfully. “I don’t know, it tastes fine to me.”

I wonder if this is my opportunity. It always works in the movies right? “I don’t know,” I offer drawing their attention as I push my half-finished plate aside. “It does taste funny to me,” I mutter. “I don’t feel fantastic either.”

“Aw, little baby got a funny tummy?” Brandon sneers. “We can’t possibly have that now can we?”

Yes, the guy who literally started this fish discussion is now using it as a stick to beat me with, what’s new in hypocrisyville today?”

“I think I need to go to the bathroom. I’ll catch up with you guys,” I mutter and slide out from the bench. I start walking briskly back towards the main door as Brandon calls out behind me. “You can’t leave yet, we’re not done!”

He’s not entirely wrong, we should typically wait till lunch is complete before leaving but it's not a black and white rule. My plan is simple; head to the nearest bathroom and get myself to throw up. It’s risky, and I hate the idea but it's got a real shot of working. As it stands it’s my only remaining option and it requires a bit of prep work.

Have you ever tried to make yourself throw up? It’s surprisingly difficult when push comes to shove. You have to fight your natural urge to stop yourself gagging and force yourself to leave your fingers in your throat. You’d think it would be easy with how bad this bathroom smells.

Don’t misunderstand, the bathrooms here are spotless and the school is a very hygienic place. It is difficult for me to explain quantifably, but since starting hormones, my perception of smell has shifted dramatically. Now quite a lot of things smell different and boys are a major one. They are a confusing mixture of interesting and disgusting scents that both enthrall and appall me in equal measure. One of the ones that ironically makes me gag is the overpowering stench of the boy's bathroom. The problem is on its own it’s not quite enough to get the job done.

I managed to keep my fingers in place long enough to trigger convulsions of my stomach right as the door to the bathroom creaked open. “Alex?” A voice calls out, reverberating off the tile walls and high ceiling. It sounds familiar but I can’t place it while I’m on the porcelain telephone to god.

I moan out something unintelligible after returning my lunch to the toilet bowl. The door moves gently against the lock as someone tries the handle. “Alex, are you alright?”

“Threw up,” I mutter wiping my mouth on some toilet paper. “I feel like crap.”

“Open the door, Alex, you need to go to the nurse.”

I reach behind me from my spot on the dubiously clean floor and unlatch the door. It opens carefully and Rick from Lunch leans in He frowns when he sees me on the floor. “Are you ok? You took off so fast I had to come and check.”

I glance back at the toilet and make a face, “the fish wanted a word.”

Rick nods as though he expected this. “Come on, I’m taking you over to the nurse’s office.”

“I’ll be fine,” I grimace, “it’s not worth the bother.”

Now you see, there’s a certain level of protest expected when faced with an offer like that. As a boy, I would want to seem tough and unbothered by such trivialities as food poisoning. A real man would shrug it off and go back down the mines to work his shift. If I’m too quick to accept his suggestion it might seem like the act that it actually is.

Well, act of sorts. My already irritated stomach convulses a second time driving me into a series of dry heaves over the bowl in full view of this guy. Not exactly my proudest moment. Hey, at least he didn’t hold my hair. When I’m convinced I’m done I slump back down and wipe my mouth. “Ugh.” I groan. It's not my finest idea this.

“Yeah, you’re fine,” Rick fires back. “Cut the bull and let me take you.”

I nod weakly, now feeling far sicker than I had planned. Without waiting for me to stand, Rick pulls me to my feet with surprising ease and supports me with an arm around my torso. I nearly die of panic as I realize his left arm is literally inches below my breasts. Not thinking I grab his arm and hold on tight. It looks like I need support staying upright but it’s really to make sure he doesn’t touch something awkward..

“Steady dude, I’ve got you. Let’s get you over to the nurse.”

Rick leads me out to the door and back into the hallway. Our sitting is still in lunch and the others are mostly outside meaning that the halls are relatively quiet. Before long, we’re exiting our school and walking across the central quad to the Girl’s Division opposite.

I didn’t mention that, did I? The school nurse and her clinic are located in the Girls Division which belongs to our campus. I used to love going to see her when I was younger because, for a few minutes, I could pretend I belonged there with the other girls. There was something special about closing my eyes and only hearing female voices; it felt right.

“I can’t stick around too long,” Rick continues the one-sided conversation he’s held since we left the bathroom. “I have football practice this afternoon and the coach will kill me if I’m too late.”

“Yeah, that’s ok. I mean, thanks, I guess.” I mutter. “You didn’t need to bother really.”

“Sure I did, don’t be stupid Alex! I couldn’t just leave you there in a filthy toilet stall.”

For someone I barely know, he seems to care an awful lot. This seems unusual in my eyes as life has taught me that nobody really cares unless they have to. That people only ever do nice things if they want something, or they feel that they are obligated. The very idea that someone might help to simply be a decent human being feels rather suspicious to me.

Entering the school and signing in at the reception, we navigate the ground floor corridors before arriving outside the nurse’s office. Rick uses his free hand to open the door and guides me bodily inside. The nurse looks up from her novel and suddenly appears far more focused as she spots me being helped in by the huge football player.

“Oh dear, come on, set her down over here.”

Her? Oh shit.

Rick it seems, hasn’t noticed the perilous pronoun and proceeds to explain what’s going on. “We had fish at lunch, some guys were saying it tasted weird and then Alex took off to the bathroom, I found him on the floor throwing up.”

The nurse seems to take a better look at me then and I see the confusion in her eyes. “Right, very good of you to bring, him, over. Let’s get him sat down over here,” she adds gesturing to an exam table.

Rick guides me over to the table and helps me to sit down. I let my shoulders sag and generally hunch myself over as though I’m in pain. “Thanks.” I smile weakly. “Look, I’m sorry for wasting your lunch break.”

Rick shakes his head and grins. “Hey, it’s nothing dude, I just wanted to make sure you’re ok right? Brandon was making cracks about you being a wuss but when you didn’t come back I just wanted to make sure. Good job I did huh?”

“Brandon’s an asshole,” I mutter darkly.

Rick smirks and nods. “True enough, he’s the one guy we all love to dump in practice.”

“Right, off you get dear, leave me with…?”

“Alex,” Rick answers for me.

The nurse smiles. “Alex, right. Well, thank you, young man, off you go.”

Rick beats a retreat with a little wave and I get the weirdest feeling ever… like I was glad he was there... What the heck is wrong with me?

The nurse isn’t some old fuddy stuck here in a high school after she retired from a real job. No, she’s an honest to god real nurse. In her mid-forties, she’s been here as long as I was with the school. Apparently, her mom was the nurse here before she was. When she retired, Nurse Carter left her job at the local hospital to take her place; tradition is weird at this school.

“So funny fish eh Alex?” the nurse asks as she begins examining me. “That boy said you’ve been vomiting?”

I nod weakly. “Yeah, just once or twice, but I feel kinda awful.”

“You do look a bit pale,” Nurse Carter muses as she checks me over. “I’ll need you to lose some of these layers,” she adds. I’d like to take a look at your tummy.”

Fuck… Plan A to exit the frying pan has left me squarely in the fire that was heating the pan in the first place. You’d have thought an intelligent girl like me might have foresaw that visiting the nurse might put me in the crosshairs of some form of exam? It’s not like I’m medically naive; as mentioned, my mom is a doctor and I’ve grown up around them my entire life. The very thing I needed to skip gym for might well get spotted.

I shrug out of my suit jacket and unzip my hoodie. If I’m able to keep my shirt mostly on I should be fine.

“Lie back and lift your shirt up, dear.”

I recline on the exam table and lift my shirt to expose my abdomen. Thankfully the bunched fabric keeps my chest covered and I’m not raising it any higher. The nurse palpitates (that’s doctor for presses) around and seems to frown a few times. “Ok, you can put your shirt down, dear.”

I sit up and wince a little. Turns out that forcing yourself to vomit can pull some muscles. Nurse Carter interprets this as more discomfort.

“I can give you something for the nausea, but you’ll want to stay here for a while so I can monitor you. I think you’re going to be fine; your body rejected whatever it was pretty quickly and there’s no indication that it is a deeper problem.”

“Yeah, it wanted out pretty quick.” I agree weakly. “I’m really sorry to be a fuss.”

“It’s nothing at all dear. Come on through to the other room and take one of the beds for an hour or so, alright?”

Result! Our school infirmary has a small ward for kids who need to rest or stick around to get collected by a parent or ambulance. In cases like mine, it’s just so she can keep an eye on me until she’s satisfied I won’t implode on the spot. Either way, the result I wanted is here; a valid excuse to not be present for Phys Ed. If I miss the start, she’s not going to clear me to rejoin the others part way through. To borrow a football metaphor, it was a hail Mary pass in the 90th minute and I made it stick for the touchdown. Look at me talking sports like a real boy!

A quick injection and I’m shuffled off to a bed in a quiet corner of the little infirmary. Settling into the creaky metal hospital bed I feel pretty smug about the outcome of this one. Have to admit, I didn’t expect Rick to help me sell it, nor for him to care that much. He’s not anyone I really know that well; I’ve seen him around but we don’t share any classes. Lunch this semester is the first time we’ve interacted for an extended period of time and he seems right. Generally, I avoid the football players, they tend to run short on brain cells; just look at Rob!

The bed is not exceptionally comfortable but it does the job. Soon, I’m dozing lightly in the dim light of the room. Honestly, other than a few sore muscles and a little lingering stomach pain from forcing myself to vomit, I only feel extreme relief. This will only work once and I’ll have to find something else for next week; a new solution of some kind. Perhaps with a bandage, I can bind things and get away with changing in a bathroom. Who knows, but I’m not going to be able to dodge this all year. It is a grade after all and I will need it.

While I’m lying there kind of sleeping I can hear the nurse on the phone. From the sound of it she’s on the phone to the office; likely telling them where I am so that I’m not marked tardy. The phone clicks then I can hear her dialing again.

“Hello, Mrs Winters?”

Oh shit.

“Oh, sorry Doctor, perfect!”

Oh fuck.

“Well It’s not an emergency, but I have Alex here. Yes, well… no, he’s fine really. He’s had an upset stomach, likely a mild case of food poisoning… Yes, yes, I already spoke to the kitchen staff and the office. I’m informing you if you wish to collect… no, of course. I gave him a low dose of Zofran, he should be fine. No intestinal hardness so given that he expelled… yes, I agree, no real danger being here. I will Ma’am, of course.”

There’s silence for a moment as I assume my mother speaks with Nurse Carter.

“One last thing Doctor Winters… yes… Well, when I examined Alex I noticed that he’s severely lacking in muscle tone, I might recommend a visit to his primary care physician. For a boy his age he’s a little on the lower end of the spectrum. If I didn’t know better I might think… perhaps, yes… okay… I will do that, thank you… Goodbye.”

The Frying pan to fire jump was only briefly dodged as I apparently tripped and dove head-first into a new pan full of boiling cabbage. When it comes to her kids, Doctor Mom doesn’t comply with any of the known Hague or Geneva Conventions on armed conflict.

“I’ll let him know. Ok, thank you Doctor Winters, Goodbye.”

I hear the phone hit the cradle then a chair roll as I close my eyes and pretend to be resting. I can hear the nurse walk into the room and tap lightly on the door frame. “Alex, are you asleep dear?”

I crack an eye and look across at her innocently.

“I just spoke with your mom, she’s not able to get away from the hospital and your dad is at work, she said you have a key?”

“Yeah, we all do.”

Nurse Carter smiles. “Great, I’m going to have the office call a cab and have them take you directly home. Rest up for the afternoon and we’ll see you bright and early tomorrow. I’d advise you to visit your urgent care if necessary but with Mom around… I think you’ll be fine.”

So yeah, Mom being a doctor is not ideal when you’re paying hormonal buckaroo with your own puberty but surprisingly unless it’s their specialty or they look too hard, doctors are as blind as anyone else. Plus, Mom is a surgeon, so she focuses on the physical not the hormonal. How convenient would having an Endocrinologist for a mother be? Her specialty or not, whatever the nurse was waffling on about might subject me to a parental exam, however. This might present a problem, but I can work my way around it if I have to. A tantrum isn’t ideal, but I can potentially argue that I want a neutral doctor to see me naked if it comes to it. Unlike a mother, they have to keep schtum, good old Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act.

 

 

I was lying on my bed later that afternoon watching TV when my cell phone rang. It wasn’t a number I recognized, but I’m a curious teen with no sense of caution so I pick up anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hey, is that Alex?”

It’s a male voice that I’m not 100% positive I recognize, but It seems familiar.

“Yes, who’s this?”

“Rick, from School?”

“How’d you get my number?”

The voice chuckles, “I spoke to your friend Gary. He was hesitant to give it to me, he figured I wanted to kick your ass or something. I managed to convince him I just wanted to make sure you were good. I heard you got sent home?”

I must make a note to remember to kill Gary later.

“Oh, yeah I did. She gave me something for the nausea and sent me home to rest. Go to the urgent care if I turn into a scene from Aliens, you know?”

“That’s good,” Rick replies sounding pleased. “I didn’t see you come back from the nurse so… yeah I dunno, just wanted to make sure you hadn’t died or something.”

“Yeah, if I had I think we’d have heard. The food’s not great, but it’s yet to be weaponized.”

“Well uh, I’m glad you’re doing ok, um, I’ll let you rest ok?” I’m not sure why but suddenly Rick seems awkward. Then again why he would even call to check on me is a bit unclear.

“Ok, well thanks for checking, see you around dude.”

He hangs up and I stare at the handset for a minute feeling a little bemused. It was nice of him to check on me and it reminds me of just how easily he lifted me off the floor. A weird conversation to be sure. I actually feel happier knowing someone cared, even if I did fake it. Not even the presenter of the number himself Gary bothered to check.

Just before six that evening there’s a knock and the door creeks open as Mom sticks her head inside my bedroom. “Darling, everything ok?” Still in her scrubs from the hospital, she’s got this concerned look on her face that usually means she’s worried about me. Given today’s activities it's warranted for once.

“Yeah Mom, I’m fine, really.” I offer her a smile to show I’m really alright. “Something weird for lunch but I feel fine now. It just got me all out of shape for a while.”

Mom makes her way into the room and plops down on the end of the bed beside me. She focuses her attention on me in that motherly way that makes me feel protected. “You sure? No persistent effects or nausea?”

I shake my head. “I feel fine now, a little sore maybe but that’s it.”

“Hmm,” she murmurs. Despite years of medical schooling, on-the-job training, and advanced technology at her fingertips, she sticks the back of her hand on my forehead and looks thoughtful for a second as she judges my temperature by hand, literally.

“Seems normal, no fever, no other reported cases of food poisoning. Now I wonder, and this is just me hypothesizing, is this some grand conspiracy to get out of gym class?”

Crap.

“No, I actually threw up.” I protest, coloring up immediately.

Mom frowns and shakes her head. “The nurse seemed to agree with you, but she did seem a little concerned that you were a little underdeveloped… physically.”

Mom has literally no filter when it comes to medical matters, she couldn’t even soften a blow like that even if it might have offended me. I mean, what mother thinks it’s cool to tell their teenage son that they’re physically underdeveloped? That shit is how people get a complex.

She continues unbidden. “I was… well, your father and I know you’re not the biggest boy, we were worried that maybe you felt inferior to the others?”

How to best play this? This question represents the trans teenager’s golden opportunity to come out. It’s either the best segway into the, ‘but I’m really a girl mom,’ pathway or the point where you vehemently deny femininity because girls stink! The third pathway is my choice, obviously, I can’t do anything simple, can I? I’m surely not going to admit to my feelings but it doesn’t mean I can’t lay some groundwork. Honestly, during this period of time I was doing whatever I could to try and feel them out, hoping some cosmic sign would show they loved me enough to understand. Sounds pessimistic, but it turns out that fear makes you incredibly blind.

“Mom, I promise I was actually sick ok?”

Statement = True.
Causality = Not Relevant, shut up.

“Yeah, I’m much smaller than most of the guys and sure, I’m not exactly a super sports enthusiast. I can promise you I don’t feel inadequate or less than the other boys; I’m kinda fine with being on my own path.”

This is my way of saying that yes, I have noticed a variance from the standard type (In this case because I caused it) and that I’m ok with that situation (reason; unclarified). I acknowledge a deviation away from a stereotypical male behavioral pattern and that I have a diverging pathway. In isolation it’s neutral, but in context, I’m testing the water and laying the groundwork. If they find out one day, there will have been signs. (Huge neon pink ones)

Mom eyes me for a moment before pursing her lips and nodding, seemingly satisfied. It seems to have had the desired effect for the time being. “I’d still like to book you in with Doctor Harris anyway, I want to make sure nothing is wrong with you overall.”

Not unexpected outcome, can circumnavigate issue, minor concern going forward.

“Sure Mom, I’ll see him, but I’m okay really, I promise.”

Mom ruffles my hair and smiles fondly. “Ok kiddo, I do worry though. You get some rest and I’ll bring you up something light for supper.”

God, I want to tell her the truth so badly it hurts. What hurts me more is that I lean heavily on the belief that her love is conditional on my being a boy and being normal. I cherish that feeling of love, possibly more, knowing that it could all disappear one day. I fear coming out in equal parts because I fear their reaction and also, perhaps more importantly; what society will put them through.

Mom heads off to acquire sustenance for child number three seemingly satisfied with my answers. I feel relieved; I’ve seen off the risk for this week, but I have so many more to face. Not sure what I can do, but I will find a way I’m sure. This is going to be the hardest semester of my life. When I told myself I could do this and manage to keep it quiet for two whole years until college I must have been insane.

You think this story needs more romance, skirt spinning, and girl bonding, don’t you? Yeah, there’s some coming, but fear not. I’m still trying my hardest to hide the obvious, so I’m currently in my ‘act as manly as possible and hope nobody notices era’. This is apparently only working in my own head.

 

 

The remainder of the week was almost business as usual now we had found our rhythm again. The routine of school has kicked back into full flow and we are firmly focused on our work. I wasn’t kidding when I said private schools don’t mess around with easing you back into the semester. They know our parents want their money’s worth and work us like child slaves. At this age too, they’re focused on getting us ready for college. At a school like this, that’s an expectation, not an option.

It’s exactly this workload that has me snowed under in the library on Friday afternoon the first week back. I have a free period after lunch and I’m working on knocking out a History essay and a handful of Algebra problems so that I don’t have to waste my weekend with this stuff.

“Hey Alex,”

I glance up and see Rick staring at me from the end of the table. This dude is turning into a bad penny. “Can I help you?”

“Nothing, wanted to say hi, homework?”

This is suspicious. Nobody just wants to say hi to me, I’m not that important.

“Yeah, a bunch of stuff I want to get rid of before the weekend, you know?”

Take the hint buster, clear off, and let me get this essay done. What does he do? The asshole pulls out a chair and sits down.

“So how come I’ve not seen you at lunch since Fishageddon?” I ask, not looking up from the math problem I’m solving.

“Coach has us doing extra drills over lunch breaks in the run-up to the first game. Kinda sucks but it should pay off.”

“This is why I don’t take part in any sports; Nobody can take away my free time.”

Rick chuckles, “You come to the games though right? I think I saw you at a few last year.”

“My brother is on the team; Rob Winters.”

“That’s it!” I thought you looked familiar!”

I look up from the problem I was working on and raise an eyebrow. “I look nothing like that anthropological divergence.”

“Oh!, yeah, no, I mean, there’s a family resemblance of course you don’t look like him. I didn’t mean….”

I’m not sure if he’s stupid or blind, or a combination of all three. I just stare at him while his brain tries to find a gear. Why is this confident, sporty, popular guy tripping over himself?

Rick grins and seems to collect himself. “Sorry, I swear that makes sense in my head. But hey, means you’ll be there tonight, right? For the game?”

I give him a cautious look and narrow my eyes. “Uhuh, most likely yes.”

Rick grins and nods to himself, “Cool! Look, I’ll let you get finished Alex, maybe see you later I guess?”

With a dumb half-wave and a grin the errant jock departs and lets me get back to my work in peace. I still have no idea what the hell he wanted.

This is future Alex speaking, well, I’m Holly at this point… but that’s not exactly a spoiler is it? Timelines are confusing leave me alone. While you, dear reader might find the developing narrative exceedingly obvious, Alex doesn’t see anything yet. At this point, our hapless heroine is only just clawing her way out of the swamps of asexuality to discover that she finds boys attractive. She hasn’t yet gained any ability to detect when a guy is hitting on her or showing interest. What makes it even funnier is that at this point in time is that some guys don’t even realize how they’re treating her/him either. It’s comedy gold in hindsight, but to all parties involved at the time, it's uncomfortable and strange.

Why am I talking to you now from the future? I don’t know, perhaps I’m bored and there’s a rift in the multiverse. Yes, those films all happened, but you have to remember back in little Alex’s mind, it's thankfully back when superhero movies were few, and largely awful.

 

 

Living so far from school makes traveling back for games a huge pain in the ass. I only go to these games for two reasons; one, to support my brother. I might not be like him, but I do love Rob. There’s absolutely no way I wouldn’t want to cheer him on. He’s actually pretty good for an unevolved ape man too. The second and most advantageous reason is that Dad is convinced that I at least like sports. Which, in the absence of playing them, somewhat gets him off my back.

Do you think I watch it? Well, yes, I do. I even have a vague idea of what goes on in a football game, color me different from most trans-fiction protagonists who are so desperate to be as feminine as possible. Girls can watch sports too!

There are still the last vestiges of summer in the air as we make our way into the stadium just before six that evening. It’s the first game of the season so it’s always been a pretty popular one with the students and families. We’re playing a local public high school and a lot of their people have shown up too. I think they just enjoy using our facilities.

“Alex! Over here!”

I glance over my shoulder and spot Kara and Meg elbowing their way through the crowd towards me. I slow my pace out of the way of the press of bodies and the girls come bounding up.

“Oof! No Gary?” I squeak out as I get hugged simultaneously by the pair of them.

“You think dweeb boy wants to come watch the game? Meg smirks, “Come on, we can get good seats before they’re all taken.”

I had agreed to meet up with the sisters earlier in the week. They, it turns out, mostly come to ogle football players and a tiny amount of misguided school spirit. We find seats halfway up the home bleachers and away from a lot of the other students and get settled in.

“You know, I don’t actually see a boy here at all tonight.” Meg opines giving me a once over. “Are you sure you’re not sailing too close to the wind, chica?”

I deflate, “This is me being full boymode.”

Oh, I forgot you guys love to hear clothing described in detail. Tonight, I’m wearing a far too large school hoodie that once belonged to my brother Rob and a pair of regular boy jeans. Such feminine attire right? This scintillating detail for you lovers of good transgender fiction, I think not. The hoodie is precious to me; once it hid my incorrect body, now it disguises and protects me as my body becomes what it’s meant to be. Hoodies are a trans girl’s best friend. Something something dysphoria hoodie.

It’s a zip-front style in our school’s maroon with big but faded gold lettering for our team, the Lions. With my hair in my usual low ponytail that I keep tucked into the back of the hood, I suppose I do look a little tomboyish. What I haven’t factored in and what Meg is putting down is that it’s a neutral outfit, unlike my school suit, it doesn’t lean one particular way. Normally not something I’d worry about, but she does have a good point.

“Shut up, nobody will notice,” I mutter.

“Gir…dude, relax. It’s only because we know ok?”

I give her a sideways grin and shrug.

Kara leans over and jokingly punches me in the arm. “Don’t worry sport, we got your manly back.”

I roll my eyes. With friends like them, who needs enemas?

Our attention is drawn down to the pitch as the pregame festivities begin. The band marches out and the cheerleaders start their routines. All of a sudden we enter the gaudy spectacle of high school sports; American Style.

I won’t bore you with details of the game, you didn’t come for that and honestly, I can’t remember. The team we’re playing isn’t particularly good and we end up flattening them 56/12. Rob, I’m glad to see got plenty of game time tonight. He’s a Defensive End and based on tonight’s performance, a pretty successful one. Many a play was foiled by our defensive line’s patented smash and grunt technique; high sporting science.

I did notice my new shadow getting some field time tonight too. The Juniors don’t tend to get the whole game or to start unless they’re spectacular, but Rick was fielded for the third and fourth quarters tonight in Wide Reciever; good for him.

Do I feel jealous seeing the girls on the cheer squad doing their thing pitchside? Sure. This wouldn’t be a trans high school story if I didn’t express some sort of jealousy or even mention them. Not for the role they fill, of course, I personally think it’s playing into the patriarchy in an outdated and archaic way that forces young girls to take a supporting role to boys from an early age.

I do however feel jealous that they can freely express their femininity in such a public setting. The girls are gorgeous and honestly, I dream of moving through this world in such an unshamedly feminine manner. Would I prefer to do gymnastics for my physical education credits? Absolutely. Shake pom poms for the boys? Eh, not so much.

“Hey Rob!” Meg croons as we arrive pitchside after the game. The players are hanging around chatting to family and fans after the rip roar victory, so spirits are high. Rob looks over his shoulder and spots Meg and Kara, he grins broadly at the sisters before spotting me to one side.

“Alex dude, you came?”

I smile fondly at my brother. “Not going to miss you flattening people Rob, great game.”

He smiles at me, and it’s times like this when I actually feel that sibling love. I just wish I was his sister, rather than his brother.

“We came to cheer you on!” Meg offers interrupting the moment. “Awesome game!”

I can smell her interest a mile off and i resist the urge to smile. Megan has crushed on my brother for years and he’s oblivious to her interest. He merely grins at her and takes the compliment without even noticing that she clearly put extra effort into her outfit, hair, and makeup tonight. Is it weird that one of my closest friends is into my brother? No.

Until recently I had zero interest in anything romantic or sexual. So other people’s romance or sexual interest was something I could observe from a detached third-party perspective. I never felt revulsion or imagined them doing things because I didn’t care. While Megan’s never told me that she liked him in so many words, it wasn’t hard to notice. I suppose it was never something we would have talked about until, well, now. I will say observing the cringe from a third-party perspective does have its amusing moments.

We’re chatting about nothing in particular when I feel a hand clasp my shoulder. Turning, I come face to face with a wall of Lions football uniform. Looking up, I stare straight into Rick’s smiling face. “Uh, hi.”

“Hey, enjoy the game?”

“Yeah, I did, cool that you got some game time.”

Rick grins and nods happily. “Yeah, it was ace. Coach put me out at half time and I even managed to score a touchdown!”

“Yeah, I saw,” I remind him, “I was here.”

“Man I’ve got such a buzz right now, I’m ready to play again.”

I’m happy for the guy, but his enthusiasm is quite excessive for a high school game. You’d think he just won the Super Bowl. I default to the smile and nod.

“Well you might need to wait till next game eh?”

Rick looks between me and the girls, “We’re all going to West’s after we get changed, you guys coming with?”

“I hadn’t planned,” I admit. “It’s not really my scene.”

“I mean you’d be more than welcome, plenty of friends and family come along.”

Rob takes this moment to overhear the conversation and step in, saving me an embarrassing refusal. “Dude, you need to realize that my little bro is completely antisocial. The fact he comes to my games still boggles my mind. I’m pretty sure something like West’s would put him in meltdown.”

I shrug, “Yeah he’s got a point. I’d only cramp the cool football vibes.”

“Ah, all good, another time huh?” Rick looks briefly sad about my refusal but quickly turns back towards Rob. “Come on dude, let’s hit the showers. Bye, Alex!”

The two players trot off towards the locker rooms leaving me alone on the field with the sisters. Our reason for being here is over, so it’s time to head for home. I’m catching a ride with the sister’s parental taxi, so we make our way towards the parking lot.

As we walk, Meg slips her arm through mine and leans in. “So not only do I discover you’re really a girl and annoyingly, but now I find out you’ve got a football player panting over you? Girl, you’ve been holding out on us.”

I try to shake my arm loose of the girly embrace and stare at her. “What did you say?”

Megan looks at me like I’m speaking Klingon, or stupid, or both. “You can’t see it? Rick Taylor back there? He’s so into you it’s unbelievable.”

I turn the same shade as my hoodie as I shake my head vehemently. “No way, nuh huh, nope. No he’s not.”

“She’s right,” Kara offers unhelpfully, “he really is into you. Pretty much the same way Meg wishes your brother was into her.”

“Kar, what the fuck?”

Kara rolls her eyes. “Alex already knows, you aren’t subtle at all Sis.”

Megan looks between us dejectedly and deflates. “OK fine, I’m sorry Alex.”

Hey, I’m off the menu, I’m happy to be gifted some moral high ground for once. I squeeze her arm and smile. “Honestly, it’s cool; I don’t mind actually. I’ve known you were into him for a while now anyway. Like Kara said, you aren’t exactly subtle about it, to anyone with a brain.”

“This is why it's obvious you’re a girl.” Kara points out. “A boy wouldn’t notice stuff like that.”

“It wasn’t like she was hiding it.” I shrug, keeping my happy little affirmation inside.

“We’re not getting off topic here though,” Meg continues. “You are aware Rick Taylor is into you right?”

Shit.

“Uh, no, we’re just friends. He helped me out the other day, I barely even know the guy, honest.”

Meg raises an eyebrow. “I’m no expert, but that boy was crushing bad. It’s interesting though, I never really had him picked as gay.”

“I don’t think he is,” Kara offers as we walk. “It’s not like Alex here is exactly a bastion of masculinity. He might be, but I’d think it’s more likely that he’s not actually aware of what he’s doing.”

“Alex is here you know,” I complain.

Meg ignores me and continues to talk over me. “That’s true! Wait, do you think he’s like, picking up on vibes and stuff?”

“Probably,” Kara agrees. “Oh boy, Alex, if he realizes what he’s doing, you’re going to have one really confused dude on your hands.”

“What the hell do I do?” I groan.

Megan bounces on her heels with excitement. “Do you think he’s hot? Wait, we don’t even know if you’re even into boys or girls?”

I slow down slightly and glance around to make sure we’re alone in the rapidly emptying parking lot. I take a moment to walk over to a low wall and sit down, hugging the hoodie against myself against the growing cool of the evening. “I’m pretty sure I’m into boys, as far as I know. It kinda started raising its head this summer.”

“That makes sense,” Kara offers, “You did start hormones. You’re going through puberty and it’s starting to fire off all those signals.”

“I suppose. But no matter what, I can’t and won’t do anything about it while we’re here at school. I don’t want a guy to be into me as a boy, and I can’t have a guy be into me as a girl. I just gotta knuckle down and ignore it till college, when I can be me.”

“I still don’t think you’ve got a prayer of making it to college as a boy.” Meg snorts.

I give them both a serious look. “I’ve got to, I don’t have a choice.”

Meg looks more serious for a moment as she squeezes my hand and smiles sadly. “I know sweetie, I know.”

Daddy Taxi arrives at that moment, ending our heart-to-heart. I rapidly recenter myself and push the Alex mask up to the front as we pile into the car.

“Hey girls, where’s Alex? Wasn’t he getting a ride with you?”

“Uh, here Mister Byrne.” I offer from the darkness of the back seat.

The girls' dad looks in the mirror more carefully. “Oh, ah, sorry Alex, didn’t see you back there. Still not hit a growth spurt I see?”

I sigh, I must remember this is meant to be sad. “No Mr Byrne, one day soon I guess.”

As we drive homeward I manage to sink into obscurity as the girls regail their father with tales of the game and the social gossip of school. It lets me think though, and oh boy, do I suddenly have a lot to think about.

Is Rick really into me? Is he gay, or is this some psychological thing he isn’t aware of? I mean, it makes sense if you think about it; I’m probably giving off confusing pheromones or something. Oh god, am I going to suddenly start attracting boys who will kick my ass for turning them gay?

This wasn’t part of my plan. Thanks to my… sexual awakening over the summer vacation I know with reasonable certainty that I’m straight. Girls seem to do nothing for me and boys, well, boys absolutely do something for me. I’ve been trying to avoid seeing my classmates in a romantic light and so far I’ve been pretty successful. The biggest advantage for them is that I know them, and most of them are assholes.

Rick is a blindspot for me; I don’t know him that well and he seems to be problematically nice. Is he attractive? God yes he is; he’s tall and lean with dark hair and noticeable muscle. He’s got a light dusting of facial hair and this chiseled handsome face that does things to me when he smiles. The other day when he helped me to the nurse's office I could feel his easy power as he lifted me up. No matter what I might think, I cannot permit myself to even casually crush on him. I have to maintain my focus on the task at hand; surviving undetected. Anything of this sort is going to cause issues I cannot afford.

 

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

 

 

I roll out of bed on Saturday morning a little after ten. That’s pretty late for me especially now that we’re back in school, but I think I deserve it after this week. It’s only been five days, but already I feel like I’ve run a marathon with the amount of stress I’ve had to handle. The worst part? It’s only week one of many to come. Great sodding joy.

I typically sleep in sweats and a baggy T-shirt because it’s enough to disguise my shape and comfortable enough to let me relax. I know, like you, I’d love to slither into bed in something silky and feminine but hey, that’s for the pages of fiction, right? The big problem there is that I can’t exactly lock my bedroom at night, as much as I would like to. My parents are concerned for our ‘safety’ and pesky things like ‘fires’. Ok, that is admittedly a very valid thing for parents to worry about, but what teen really wants to admit that though?

Crawling out of my pit, I shuffle into the bathroom and brush my teeth before making my way downstairs in search of morning sustenance. This isn’t some bright beautiful fictional world where my parents have a delicious cooked breakfast prepared every morning. Like many, they have lives too and I’m pretty sure at this point they’re off doing something far more important than waiting on their offspring hand and foot. Weekend or not, at ten am I’m most certainly on my own when it comes to feeding time.

I do however smell coffee in the kitchen, so my senses are elevated slightly above neutral by the time I enter the room.

“Morning squirt,” Rob mutters from the kitchen island, his own cup in hand. My brother looks up and catches sight of me and shakes his head. “Jeez, you’re a fucking sight.”

I glare at him and make a stupid face before heading straight for the coffee machine without speaking a word. Anything I say now will be pure insult and that isn’t sporting behavior for family members who put the machine on in the first place.

Filling my cup, I add a generous helping of milk and sugar before immediately sipping my steaming brew. Slowly, very slowly the caffeine begins to permeate my brain and I grin lazily to myself as I slip onto one of the stools at the island.

Rob shakes his head. “I think you’re worse than Mom without coffee.”

“Mhmm.”

“Glad you came to the game last night, it means a lot to me. I know you’re not a huge fan, but it really does.”

I eye my brother warily. It’s far too early for me to resist treachery. “you’re….welcome?”

For once, Rob looks surprisingly genuine. This seems like an opportunity.to build some bridges. I smile, “I don’t mind watching the sport, but i really don’t want to play. Plus it matters a lot more when there’s someone I care about in it.”

He raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Bullshit aside squirt, I appreciate it. Gives me a reason to dig deeper when I know family is watching me.”

My eyes start to itch and I want to cry because it’s a lovely sentiment and I’m far too tired to resist the urge. To deflect it, I drain my coffee cup in one and hurry off to grab some pop-tarts to throw in the toaster. Phew, disaster averted, I can’t allow emotion to show in front of boys.

Rob looks at me funny for a second as I’m stood by the toaster. “When the hell did you have so much hair dude?”

“Huh?”

“You,” Rob gestures vaguely at my head.. “Look at you, it’s like someone dragged a horse through a hedge backward.”

I run my hands through my hair defensively trying to tame it back into something approaching masculine decency. I was a little too sleepy to find a tie before I came downstairs and I’m suddenly quite embarrassed that I let my guard down.

“No wonder some of the guys thought Chrissie was back home last night,” Rob chuckles between bites of toast.

“Um, what? No, I don’t.” I mutter intelligently.

Rob raises an eyebrow. “Not sure you’ve seen a mirror recently bro but you kinda do.”

Brain broke, not sure what to say… getting called out and being barely awake isn’t the best time to mount a comprehensive legal defense. My solution? Clam up and turn red. It’s that kind of blush where you can literally feel the heat radiating off your skin and you almost expect to start sweating.

“Sorry,” Rob mumbles seeing the state I’m now in. “It’s probably just you hanging around with those girls constantly. Tell me you’re at least dating one of them?”

I shake my head slowly, “No, they’re my friends.”

Rob sighs and pushes his now empty plate aside and reaches over to give me a friendly fist bump on the shoulder. “Alex, look, I know you get a lot of shit and I’m sorry for adding to it. You know I got your back at school. If I’m saying anything now, it’s to help you, ok?”

“I dunno how it helps,” I mutter, not able to look at him. “Not like I can do anything about it.”

I can feel him quietly watching me. He doesn't actually say anything but I can feel how awkward this moment is. Before you wonder if I’m about to come out to my big brother you are dead wrong. I may have broken my vow of silence to Meg and accidentally now Kara, but this isn’t some cutesy moment where Big Bro realizes I’m actually little sis. No way… not now.

Rob sighs and leans over and lifts my head up till I’m looking right at him. “Look, Alex, I could tell you to cut your hair off or go lift weights, but I’m gonna give you some better advice; just be you. It sounds washy and stupid but fuck that; just be yourself. Whoever that is, own it. You’re sixteen; you’re not a little kid anymore. I spent too much time trying to be who I thought others wanted me to be and who I thought Dad wanted me to be. I’m none of them, I’m just me; my own man.

You’re a lot more like mom, you’re thoughtful and you care about others. You want to be a doctor for Christ’s sake Alex, that’s awesome. Be that person; don’t change any one part of it to try and fit in.”

This is profound with a capital fucking P. I am seeing my brother in an entirely new light. We might squabble and argue and act like brats towards each other sometimes, but god damn if he isn’t being a textbook big brother right now. I want to cry and hug him, but I know that’s the wrong answer in our current relationship. I want to tell him how much I love him but I think that might ruin the mood.

“Thanks, dude.” I offer as a masculine consolation.

Rob smiles and ruffles my hair, undoing what taming operations I had managed to accomplish. “Go get the fuck out of here and do something useful with the day huh. Go touch some grass.”

He pauses and checks his phone. “Actually, don’t do something useful. I’m heading down to the mall later to meet up with Face and RJ. You, my dude, are coming with me. We’re going to have some bro time.”

Oh god, no thanks.

“I don’t want to cramp your style Rob, but thanks anyway.” I offer, hoping he takes the hint.

Rob shakes his head and grins. “Oh no, not gonna happen. You’re coming with and we’re going to bond and do bro shit and earn you some cool points so people don’t try to kick your midget ass this semester.”

Fuck shit fuck shit damnit. Why do things have this unwavering tendency to go from bad, to good, to fucking worse?

 

 

An hour later, we are driving down the road in Rob’s car and I’m not entirely happy about it. I would far rather have spent my Saturday lounging around playing video games or reading, but no, I’m on the way to the mall to go hang with ‘the dewds’; lucky me!

Look, I can appreciate the sentiment behind the whole thing; my brother is trying to be a good guy, a proper big brother. He wants to help me feel better. To him, hanging out with his teammates is a surefire way to earn me respect and social status that will solve all my worldly ills. I’ve no doubt they’ll be chill considering they like my brother, but I don’t know if I really feel prepared for the impending level of machismo.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Rob observes over the obnoxious hip-hop he’s listening to on the stereo. “I’ll take you home if you really didn’t want to come.”

I shake my head, “No, it’s fine. I just worry I’ll cramp your style or have nothing in common with them.” Both are accurate statements.

“Eh, football aside, they’re just regular guys.” Rob shrugs. “We’re just going to chill, play some games and vibe, nothing fancy. Anyway, you’re my bro, that's the only in you need.”

God, I really want to tell him how wrong he is, to point out that I’m his sister but I can’t. The truth is, I really want nothing to do with his bro time, but I do want him. As much as the idea is not my favorite, I love the fact he thought of me. At the very least the sentiment was worth it Rob.

I love that he cares and that’s really the crux of the matter, isn’t it? I’ll come today because he asked me to, nothing else. He’s my brother and that matters more to me than suffering his goon squad for a while. Hell, maybe it will help, and hanging out with the manliest men will get people to see me more as a guy for the time being. Guilty by association, right?

Fifteen minutes later we pull into the lot at our destination, the Three Pines Shopping Mall. It’s the shopping and social networking mecca for the local teen population in our city. You know how these places operate; come the weekend it's overrun with kids that parents want out from underfoot. Here, like the African plains, the circle of life occurs… breeding, hunting and even grazing.

Yeah, like you, I’d love to be here as a girl hanging out with my besties and browsing the lingerie stores, trying on shoes, and drinking smoothies but that shit isn’t going to happen. At least not for a few years yet. I sure hope you’ll be able to curb your enthusiasm a little for now.

What am I wearing? Oh yes, that’s important, isn’t it? Regular old tan cargo pants, Rans sneakers, and a baggy vintage Blitzkrieg Flop sweatshirt. It’s bulky and comfortable; just the way my dysphoria likes it. My stupid hair which caused so much trouble this morning is neatly tamed into a low ponytail to keep it out of the way. This is my boymode; it’s not much, but It’s mine. It’s stood me in good stead, but even now I can see Meg’s point; it’s leaning hard to neutral and isn’t going to work for much longer without harsher steps.

Who are the mysterious Face and RJ we are meeting? Ah yes, I remember you asking that a while back. These wonderful nicknames belong to Kyle ‘Face’ Johnson and Ricardo ‘RJ‘ Sanchez. They’re two of Rob’s teammates and part of the defensive line alongside him. This means they’re hulking monsters of teen boy meat and, unlike Rob, are on the more median end of the brain cell bonanza.

We step through the doors and I’m hit immediately by a wall of human noise. The cavernous space is absolutely packed with human flotsam and it’s not even lunchtime yet. Rob knows where he’s going and he’s recounting last night’s plays to me while we walk. I say walk, but compared to his long loping stride I’m practically trotting just to keep up. Side benefit, however; he manages to part the human tide in ways I never possibly could.

We arrive outside one of the arcades and I spot Rob’s friends waiting for us. (Yes, this is 2004, our mall still has arcades ok?)

“Yo Iceman, how’s it hangin’?” RJ bellows clasping Rob’s hand in some bro-shake.

‘Iceman’? Oh boy, that’s ammo for later.

“Sup dude, the others here yet?”

“Gettin’ food man. We’re gonna head there now and get lunch early.”

“Oh, yeah, this is Alex, my little bro, remember?” Rob adds gesturing at me.

“You a Freshie kid?” Face asks, tossing me a casual bro-nod.

“Uh, Junior.”

Face’s… well, face is a picture. “You’re… a junior?”

“Face…” Rob warns, sensing a problem.

“Nah man it’s cool,” Face shrugs and eyes me a little suspiciously. “Hey dude.”

It’s going to be a long, fucking, day.

We’re walking to the food court when my phone vibrates. Now you have to understand, that this isn’t some modern smartphone, this is 2004. This brick is my baby, the Nokia 3210. This thing barely texts and you’re limited in characters, so for speed and to get your point across everyone uses text speech. Autocorrect? What’s that? Try typing with your number pad zoomers!

Meg B - ‘hru wyd?’

Yes, Megan is a strong proponent of text speak, and she can be quite confusing sometimes. I fire off a reply.

Alex W - ‘@ mall w R, nb chce :(‘

Stuffing my phone back in my pocket I try to keep up with the three varsity football players. Just picture the difference here; I’m 5’6 and skinny, and these three are all over six feet tall defensive players. If I’m not jogging to keep up, I’m lost in their wake.

The guys look through a few shops as we make our way towards the food court. They're not in any particular hurry and they’d far rather eye the flocks of girls that populate the mall on weekends like this. Thankfully, we reach our destination before anything too embarrassing occurs. My phone vibrates again.

Meg B - ‘sad, u hng l8r?’

Alex W - ‘Ys, l8r.’

I put my phone away, at least I can use that as an excuse later on to dip off and avoid any further plans. I appreciate my brother, but if I can dip out of Bro-fest without looking ungrateful I’ll be happy. That is if I can manage to get through lunch with the ‘guys’. I love Rob, and I love what he’s trying to do here, but I have very little in common with these guys. It’s going to be very difficult to relate, I’m sure they’re lovely people, really, I am. I just don’t know how to relate to them this way.

Everyone grabs food and drinks from the various vendors. Mostly a broad selection of burgers, chicken, and other fried foods. Me? I’m not exactly going to get away with a salad, am I? Instead, I settle for a shake and some fries. It’s not exactly hours since breakfast and I’m not eating to power a football team like this lot. When we make it to the table I realize to my great regret that I should have attempted to excuse myself far sooner.

Rick, my ever-present shadow is sitting right there in the booth in front of me. Ordinarily not a huge issue, but now I realize what he might be thinking it’s a lot weirder. He’s chowing down on a burger and chatting to three of the other team guys. Worse yet? He spots me before I can think of an excuse to run off.

“Hey! I didn’t think I’d see you today,” he grins sliding along to make space. My only other choices are to sit with Face and two of the guys I don’t know or in an entirely different booth and be antisocial. Reluctantly, I slide in beside Rick and get bookended by Rob’s hulking form.

“Uh, hi,” I reply intelligently, “Rob’s idea that I came along.”

“Glad you did,” he offers as he eyes my meager lunch. “Not hungry?”

I shrug. “It’s early and we did only just have breakfast so… yeah.”

Rick nods seriously. “Good idea, avoid the fish eh?”

“I… yeah, good point.” I grin sheepishly.

Face leans across the table interrupting our conversation and points at Rick and then me before talking directly to Rob.

“You’re telling me those two are in the same grade?”

Rob rolls his eyes. “You know you don’t gotta be the same height to be the same age dumbass.”

Face seems to consider this then grins like he suddenly gets it. Rob catches my eye and just smirks at me.

“When is your birthday?” Rick asks.

“February 6th,” I admit between fries. “You?”

“Damn, you’re older than me.” he grins, “May.”

“See Face?” I call over to the brain trust. “I’m actually older than him.”

This seems to undo all of Rob’s hard work. “Huh? But you’re so little,” he replies scratching his head.

Rob shakes his head. “Leave him alone Alex, you’re hurting his brain cell.”

Several of the guys chuckle and I feel like I inadvertently earned points.

Lunch isn’t really that bad honestly. I kinda keep to myself after making a point with Face and generally avoid being involved in the more boisterous conversation topics. I don’t have anything against any of these guys but they really aren’t my people. Conversations about girlfriends or girls they want as their girlfriends, sports, and sports teams are rolling over my head as I focus on my fries. Lunch drags on for half an hour or so as the guys alternate between stuffing their faces and watching girls around us in the food court.

Once we’re done, there’s a general exodus back in the direction of the arcade where we met Face and RJ. Rick decides to stay with me to talk, much to my chagrin.

“You do much on the weekend usually?” Rick asks as im finishing off my shake.

I shrug. “No, usually just play some games, read, relax.”

“My dad would kill me if I wasn’t up with the birds to get chores done early,” he smirks ruefully. “We live out on a cattle ranch so I’ve got responsibilities before school and they don’t stop on weekends.”

Our city is right on the edge of a more rural part of the state, so it’s not that unlikely.

“So you’re a cowboy huh?”

“No, but I do gotta feed the horses and a bunch of other stuff. At weekends I just help out where I’m needed when I’ve not got stuff on.”

“I guess I feel lazy now for sleeping in and feeling put out that Rob dragged me along.”

Rick smiles, “I’m glad he did. You’re cool Alex, look, I know we don’t exactly mix in the same circles but I’d like to be friends… if you want to be, that is.”

Danger Will Robinson, Danger.

“I guess,” I offer. “I don’t know why though?”

“You’ve got hidden depths.” he points out, hitting FAR closer to that given nerve than I’d like. “It’s like at school; you seem to keep yourself so controlled and contained. I remember thinking you were pretty funny last year, you always seemed to have the right thing to say at the right time. This year though, it's like you shut down and just buried it all.”

“It’s only been a week.” I point out.

“I know, but I stand by my point.”

He’s not wrong. I have locked myself down and put serious controls on what people see since I started hormones. It’s difficult and apparently not unnoticed, but at least the real reason has remained secret.

“I’m just a private person.”

“Lonely,” Rick suggests more accurately than I’m prepared to hear.

“So what is it?” I cask with a little more fire than I probably should have. “So I’m just a charity friendship; the Jock befriends the nerd to make him feel better for his social standing? Either it’s a misguided act of honor or you’re planning to draw me in to make fun of me later. Either case, I don’t want it.”

Perhaps I went a little too far, Rick looks hurt by my remarks. He stops walking by one of the railings that overlooks the lower floor of the mall and watches the sea of human traffic passing below us. He’s silent for a few minutes, leaning against the railing before he speaks without looking at me.

“When I was in middle school I got bullied a lot by the other kids. I was pretty small and considered the token farmboy who didn’t belong at a school for the rich and powerful. They loved to target me,” he admits, not looking over in my direction. “I got my ass kicked and called names almost daily. When I came to high school, I told myself I wouldn’t be that guy again. I worked out, I got into sports and I became popular. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy football, but it started as a means to an end.”

He looks over at me and I see this honest pain on his face. “You remind me a lot of myself in middle school, but… I don’t know, like you gave up? I see how they are killing your spirit and I see it pushing you back inside yourself and bottling your personality up tight where nobody can hurt you. I’m not trying to be friends because it’s charity but rather, because I’ve been there, and you look like you could do with one.”

Who knew that someone could be so sensitive to your troubles and yet you don’t even know their name until a week ago… my god, I feel like such an asshole.

“I’m sorry.” I offer weakly, not quite sure how to respond. “Please, forgive me?”

Rick smiles, he has a nice smile. I mentally shake myself and focus. “Yeah Alex, of course. I know you’re kinda on the defensive all the time.”

“Do you blame me? Out of nowhere, a popular jock decides he wants to be best buds with the dweeb of Junior year. You’d be suspicious too in my shoes.”

Rick laughs and shrugs. “I get it, I know I would be too. You gonna calm down now and actually act like a human being or are you going to keep acting like I’m about to punk you?”

Oh boy, he has no idea why I’m reluctant to let my guard down around him, for more than one reason.

We resume walking, although slightly slower now because we’re not trying to keep up with the others. Rick’s story yanked at my heartstrings something rotten. I had made a snap judgment about him simply because he was a jock. I’ve severely sold him short and that was uncool of me. One thing I’ve realized over time is that trans crap can make you really introspective and ignorant of other people’s struggles.

How do I befriend someone that I can’t even tell the whole truth to? How do I let him in but keep him at arm's length? Dear god, what a position I keep putting myself in. It’s worse now because I’ve seen through the exterior he presents; he’s a good guy. We have so much in common yet we’re so different. Why does life have to be complicated?

“I can’t let you in,” I admit, feeling a sudden desire to be honest but not too honest. “Not all the way, but I can try.”

Rick glances over and smiles, “I can work with that.”

We talk about nothing in particular as we walk towards the arcade. It’s actually nice now that I’ve let my guard down a little. I’ve got to work to maintain my mask of course, but what’s new there? Why is it that when I finally start transitioning and becoming my true self, I start to actually make friends but I have to hide it from you? Life sucks.

We catch a little stick for turning up later when we finally arrive at the arcade but it's clearly only meant in a friendly way. I’m able to relax a little and just enjoy some gaming; after all, we’re in my domain now. These guys might be the football gods, but my thumbs are faster. I’ll give him credit where it’s due though, Rick, as it turns out, isn't too bad himself. This guy can play some mean Dino Disaster.

“You’ve got to change how you hold the ball.” Rick laughs as he watches me fuck up this basketball hoop shooting game for the fifth time in a row. “Here, watch.” He pops another quarter in the machine and takes my spot in front of the contraption.

“The game is rigged,” I huff, my arms crossed in frustration.

“Nah, watch.” He proceeds to flick the ball up and straight into the hoop. The machine whistles and flashes to further rub his success in. “Come on, stand in front of the machine” he offers pointing to the spot he was just in with the ball.

I take his spot and wait. “What now?”

“Right, look at the hoop.”

“I am, it's not going anywhere.”

“Look at the hoop and throw.”

I hold the ball like he was and aim exactly where he tells me. I release the ball and it goes flying off the backboard, bounces back, and ricochets off the mesh screen preventing it from coming back to get me.

I shriek and flinch to protect myself from the ball that never arrives. Rick? He’s laughing his ass off.

“It’s not funny,” I whine. “I thought it was going to hit me.”

“God you throw like a girl.”

Gurk.

“Nah, girls throw better than Alex does, even their team doesn’t want him.” Rob offers from behind us. I hadn’t even noticed him arrive, but then again it's dark and loud in the arcade.

(Note from future Holly: Rob, you were wrong. The girls' team absolutely wanted me.)

“Perhaps.” Rick agrees. “I’m trying to help, but I’m pretty sure he’s a lost cause.”

“I am here you know,” I complain. “Playing sports games doesn’t mean you can recover from the ass-whupping you got on Plumber Kart.”

“Point.” Rick laughs.

Rob wanders back off to join the others leaving the pair of us alone at the dumb basketball machine.

“One last go, I’m positive you can do it.” Rick offers. “I’ll even help. If you score a basket then drinks are on me.”

“What if I don’t?”

He looks thoughtful. “Not going to happen, I’m amazing. However in the unlikely outcome that you do somehow miss, you’re buying.”

I shrug and grab the next ball from the holder and line up. Rick steps in behind me and takes my arms and positions them so the ball is held just below my sightline.

“Right, just rock back and look just above the hoop then release.”

I take a breath before doing as he asks and suddenly smell what I’m convinced is his aftershave or cologne. Whatever it is, it’s musky and not an entirely unpleasant scent. At the exact moment I’m about to release the ball I realize that a boy is standing really close with his arms around me. I’m close enough to smell his scent and my pubescent girl brain skips a gear and goes into reverse. I miss the entire basket despite it being barely ten feet away and bounce the ball wildly off the side of the cage.

I duck out from under his arm and grin sheepishly. “Oh, whoops, look’s like I owe you a drink uh, dude, yeah.”

Rick raises an eyebrow and beacons me back. “Nah, one more go, come on.”

I hesitate, frozen to the spot with a stupid grin on my face. Why am I letting this happen? What am I letting happen? He’s just being friendly right? What signals am I putting out? How much is the fish?

I return to the shooting spot reluctantly and wait for Rick to take up his position. I’m now deliberately taking tiny breaths through my mouth to avoid smelling him. I’m aware of this warm presence behind me as I grab the ball and wait. I don’t know what it is, but I feel this flutter in my chest that I cannot explain. It isn’t anything I’ve felt before and it isn’t unpleasant.

“Now relax, jeez, you’re like a ball of wire. Just loosen up ok?” Rick’s voice rumbles behind me. He grips my shoulders and kneads them in something I’m pretty sure he thinks is a massage. It’s probably not, but it didn’t feel horrible. I can only manage to quietly eep to myself as I stand there in a busy arcade being touched by this guy, this guy that I learned only the day before seems to be ‘into’ me. Gulp.

Rick takes the ball and holds it out while he waits for me to grip it in the correct position. I close my eyes and exhale and do exactly as he directed and release the ball, my eyes fixed just above the metal hoop on the back of the machine. It feels like an eternity as the ball sails through the air before landing slap-bang in the middle of the hoop.

I’ll admit, I’m pretty bloody awful at sports. This isn’t some boy loser-to-girl jock transformation. I suck as any sex.. This one is entirely on Rick, and I’m not shy to admit it. And no, this isn’t the moment where I lose myself in the moment and happily bounce and hug him… no.

I slip away from Rick’s proximity and smile awkwardly. “You were right maestro. I concede the point.”

“I told you you could do it,” he grins proudly.

“That was more you than me.” I point out, “But who am I to turn down a free drink?”

Rick seems amused by my reaction but says nothing. Instead, he walks across to the concessions counter and returns a few moments later with a pair of tall cokes. Handing one to me, he offers me a symbolic toast.

“Deal’s a deal, you did score a basket. I didn’t specify how.”

“Thanks,” I concede, “You know, you’re not an awful teacher.”

“Thanks, I help coach at a basketball camp during the summer.”

“How old?”

“Middleschool.”

I roll my eyes. “That made me feel a lot worse.”

Rick shrugs and grins. “Some people just aren’t cut out for sports. There’s nothing wrong with that. Heck, you can beat the pants off me at most of those games.”

He has a point. But then again, having no friends means you do play a lot of games. It’s an unfair advantage most nerds have. Before we can talk more, the rest of the guys return and we’re rolled up in the tide of broventure. I’m glad for the distraction honestly, things were getting far too real with Rick. This allows me to slip back in with my brother and stop thinking about the scent of Rick’s aftershave.

I don’t know what the hell that was with the basketball game, but none of that felt like two boys hanging at the arcade. There’s every possibility that I’m reading into things but I’m not convinced it’s that simple. I’m going to have to try and police myself around Rick: This cannot happen, not now, not ever. In the best-case scenario, he gets weirded out and runs away telling everyone about the freak kid. The worst, he beats the crap out of me when he realizes what’s going on.

I tell you what this is; a terrible idea for my continued living. There are more chances of this getting my ass kicked and humiliated. And yet somehow people in this world think we transition for benefits, for an easier life; what a joke! I have to keep myself focused on what matters here; surviving high school.

Rick, as much as I don’t want him to be, is a gorgeously distracting speed bump in the way of a life of happiness. I have to ignore him, I have to play the boy. Why do I feel like Viola falling for the Duke Orsino?

Damnit Shakespeare, why did you have to be such a downer?

 

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My second week of school began without any real fanfare. I went to school like normal, and I started my classes again, like normal. I think I was most surprised by how much people ignore when they don’t expect to see something. I remember back in the first days of my transition when I was first letting my hair grow and taking care of my nails and skin better. I was terrified that people might see even a hint of femininity and call me on it. The reality is that people are extremely unobservant. It’s amazing that we’ve lived this long as a species.

With the fear of my return to class in the rearview mirror now and a relatively peaceful start to the year, I was feeling pretty positive about my chances. I would write about Monday, but nothing of interest actually happened. What truly saved my ass with this entire enterprise started on Tuesday morning at the end of homeroom.

“Remember boys,” Mister Carstairs calls as we prepare to leave the room for our first classes of the day. “The sign up sheet for your Phys Ed options are on my desk, complete them BEFORE you leave please.”

Begrudgingly and a little anxiousness to get to class, I follow the line of drones toward Ol’ Carstairs's desk as the whole subject of gym class resurfaces in my head. What the hell am I doing to do to dodge it this week?

I look down at the sheet and scratch my little head. “What’s the last one on the list, sir?”

Carstairs looks over. “Oh, Juniors and Seniors are able to elect to take a pass for the local Gym rather than formal Gym class here in school.”

“So we can just… go work out?”

He nods like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Sure, or play badminton, tennis, swim, hell you could even take a yoga class if you wanted. We accept most of you aren’t going to be the sporty types so why bother harassing you with it? You’re paying enough for this school so we give you options for your Physical Education credit.”

This is Holly again, sorry for interrupting but I need to explain something here. I need you to understand that this is not just a convenient plot device to aid me in my wonderful tale of transness. No, this is actually something that happened. I was preparing to try and fake my way out of gym class for as long as I could manage before sucking it up to talk to a doctor for an actual exemption when my school offered this to me the first semester of my Junior year. Most convenient thing ever? Yeah, it’s like a mattress truck driving past a building as you take a header off the top floor. This one option offered by my school pretty much single-handedly saved my ass.

I signed up for the Gym pass so fast that I think the pen burned a hole in the paper. I knew the particular Gym in question. It was a fairly upmarket establishment perhaps a half mile from school. What was most important was that I knew the changing rooms had single stalls. I could actually participate and not lose the credit I sorely needed. I’m still terrible at most sports, but I can at least attempt it and that is what counts here. The how would be interesting but it was certainly possible with a little help. I might need to take Meg up on her offer after all.

My morning classes passed without any real fanfare. For once, I was actually feeling pretty positive about my chances going forward. There had been some missteps already and a few setbacks but my cover was still intact. So far it was holding pretty strong; I think I’ll make it if I’m careful. And I was beginning to get the feeling that I’d make it if I was careful. Even Brandon the Moronic wasn’t able to dampen my mood at lunch. Feeling particularly sociable in my excellent mood, I chose to spend my remaining lunch break in the common room rather than alone in the library. If things have been ok so far, why avoid everyone?

I’m sat with my usual friends, the nerds, and we were talking comic books. You know, the typical nerd things to do in most stereotypes and all realities, no matter the multiverse you live in. At the moment we’re arguing about who was the best movie Furyman. Obviously, Connor Kevin wins overall best for the Animated series, and this is of course before Brian Christian’s phenomenal role in the Dark Fury trilogy… so far I’m on the side of Kevin Michael.

“Yo, you weren’t kidding dude.” The voice booms over our sensibly volumed conversation and I feel a hand clasp me on the shoulder with a hearty level of force. I turn around expecting to get attacked in some way only to see the huge form of Face grinning down at me.

“Face?”

“You weren’t kidding when you said you were a Junior, man, I was convinced they were punkin’ me.”

I look at him like he’s got brain damage, which considering he’s on the Defensive line, he most likely does; TBI’s are serious business folks. “Why would I lie?”

“Man, you’re so small I was convinced it was a joke dude. Why’d you hang out with these nerds huh?” he asks, missing the tone of the conversation he’s just dove into head first. We might be the nerds, but he’s come to our corner and we will scowl disapprovingly if he’s not careful.

I’m not sure why, but I feel emboldened by the day’s successes so I try a new tack rather than cowering in fear. “They’re my friends, Face, don’t be a dick.”

Face seems to think, which is quite a visual experience. “Oh, yeah sorry dude, catchya yeah?”

As he trots off to the football players on the far side of the common room Andy turns to face me with a look of absolute respect on his face. “Dude, what was that?”

“Face? Oh, he was convinced I was a freshman at the weekend.”

“Nobody tells the Football guys to stop being jerks, what if he’d pounded you?”

I shrug. “Face just needs you to be a bit literal sometimes.”

Andy looks at me like I’m a god. This has always been one of the many things about male social hierarchy that confused me. Why is everything so power-based? Is my knowing someone of a higher social circle suddenly elevating me to a higher position? Why? It bugs me that this benefits me and it bugs me that it's this simple. Rob was right, and it's so stupid.

Nate, one of the other guys who, for the record, was on team ‘nipples on the Fury Suit’ seems extremely suspicious. “How’d you know him?”

“I was at the arcade with Rob and his friends on Saturday at Three Pines. Not my idea of a good time but they’re not that bad when you get to know them.”

My own friends now seem to think that I’m an alien. I’m not super comfortable being the center of attention. Thankfully the bell goes and I’m able to get out of there before things get even weirder. High School is difficult enough when you’re learning to navigate the strata of society, doubly so when you’re like me, trying to just keep your head down.

As I’m heading out of the common room on my way to German class Rick jogs up beside me.

“You know, if I’m seen with another football player, I’m afraid my fellow nerds will shun me for being too cool.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” I grin. “What’s up?”

“Not much, you seem like you’re in a good mood,” he opines.

I think about it for a moment. “Yeah, I think I am today. It’s certainly not the worst day.”

“Cool,” he grins. “Look, I know the mall was a bit nuts this weekend, wanna come over and hang out at the weekend? Nothing crazy, just play some games and chill?”

This is the point I should be formulating my excuses. I like Rick, he’s a nice guy, but I’m incapable of pushing back and staying away from him. Not only do I need to stay strong for myself, but from what Meg said I need to consider how I’m making him feel. Whether he realizes it or not, he’s reacting kinda like I’m a girl. I am, but that’s not the point. I’ll be honest, even I can see it now.

“Sure Rick, sounds fun.” I hear myself answer before I even know what I’m doing. I am such a traitor.

“Cool, catch you around Alex,” he grins as he darts off down a corridor to what I assume is his next class.

What the hell did I let myself in for? I’m not stupid, by this point I’m well aware of how this is heading but I feel almost powerless to stop it. A tiny part of my animal brain says hot boy good.
The pragmatic part of my brain that is stopping me from living, stopping me from risking exposure is screaming at her to shut up. Nobody is listening it seems.

 

 

“So it’s just you and him, hanging out, together?” Megan confirms later in her bedroom after school.

I lie back on Megan’s bed, squeeze my eyes closed, and nod, “I’m such an idiot, I know.”

“I don’t think you are,” her sister offers. “People wanting to be your friend is really intoxicating when you’re lonely. Combine that with your hormone-addled brain sending you funny signals about boys and I’m surprised that you can even function.”

“My brain is not addled.” I protest, tossing a cushion in the direction of the voice.

Kara chuckles, “About as much as ours were at twelve or thirteen, sweetie.”

I look over at her and frown. “This is normal?”

“Yup, boy crazy; It’s kinda impossible to fight.”

“I have to.” I grump. “I can’t let anyone see this or I’m so dead. I can’t let myself get dragged down this path now. Why can’t I just go back to having no interest at all in anyone? It was so much simpler.”

I sit up and look at the girls. Kara is actually paying attention and Meg is doing her homework at her desk. “How the hell do you control it?”

“Being in an all-girls school does help somewhat.” Meg offers without looking. “No boys to lose our minds over. You girl, are kinda screwed.”

I roll my eyes and flop back down. “Great!”

I feel the bed sink down as someone sits beside me. Kara’s voice is suddenly a lot closer. “Just go; be friends. The best way to avoid showing you care about him might be to express that interest in a different way… as a friend.”

I look up at her. “Will he buy that?”

She looks me over theatrically and shrugs. “Depends if he can see the obvious or not.”

Oh, what’s going on? Oh, yes. We’re at the Byrne house relaxing after school. Right now I’m enjoying being able to let my proverbial and literal hair down. I’ve ditched my jacket and hoodie and I’m enjoying being able to just hang around them in the T-shirt I wear under my shirt. It provides me reasonable compression but on its own it’s obvious what I am. Around the girls, I don’t need to hide it anymore.

They’re being extremely helpful with my Rick issue… Rissue? I like that. They’re trying to be supportive but I don’t think they grasp how knotted up my brain is about the idea of A, liking boys, and B, this boy in particular.

I’ve said it before, but I feel it needs to be reiterated. I’m comfortable in my identity and It’s not that I feel like I’m ‘gay’ for liking boys. I’m so very used to liking nobody that it’s just weird to like anyone. I’m also very aware of the risks and the fact that people will think I’m something I’m not. It’s all self-protection in the end. In any other circumstances, I’d be swooning over a boy like Rick. The only problem is I’m not the girl he would want and he’s not going to be the boy I need.

“Oh,” Meg segways. “You know we can get passes to use the gym near school now?”

“They told us this morning,” I admit. “Can you guess who signed up immediately?”

“Spot of luck. Do you think you can manage to hide all this… at a public gym?” She asks gesturing at me.

“I might need some help on that front, flatten things out, you know?”

Kara looks thoughtful. “Is this all you do now?”

“Sure.”

“No sports bras or binding at all?”

I make a face. “I haven’t really had any options.”

Meg goes over to one of her drawers and starts rummaging around. She’s there for a minute or two before she pulls a black piece of fabric out. “Here, try this.”

I look confused and she unfurls the fabric revealing a plain black sports bra. “Mine from the end of Middleschool, maybe a 32A. It should flatten those girls out and give you some support at least. I wore it for Cross Country.”

She tosses me the bra and I catch it. I feel almost guilty holding an item of women's clothing even though it was handed to me like a certain elf received a sock. I know that sounds stupid but welcome to the compounded guilt of my weird situation.

“Try it on.” she urges, looking at me like I’m thick.

“Here?”

“No, in Gary’s room,” she rolls her eyes. “Yes here.”

I mean, they’ve seen my chest already so I sigh and stand up. With a mental shrug, I pull my T-shirt over my head and politely cover my breasts. “How do I put this on?”

“Like a T-shirt,” she offers. “Over your head, pull your hair out and arms through then pull it down.”

I follow her instructions and wriggle into the tight garment. It takes me some time to get it settled but once it’s in place it holds me with a strangely unfamiliar security. I bounce on my toes and feel very little movement in response. Turning sideways, I look in the mirror. I’m shocked to see a girl looking back, her long hair loose and the boy's pants cinched tight at her waist a stark contrast to the black sports bra she’s wearing.

“Huh, it works,” I murmur. “Feels kinda tight.”

“Yeah, they’re supposed to.” Meg grins. “God I hate your figure.”

“Right now so do I,” I admit. “I’ve got to keep hiding it.”

“Not forever sweetie,” Kara offers. “And with that, I’m pretty sure you can pull this off.”

I look back at the mirror. And tried to imagine a few layers. “You know, with a couple of shirts, maybe a sweater, I probably could.”

“There is one problem with that.” Kara points out. “It’s not just gym class at school surrounded by people you know. At school, they expect Alex the boy so they see that as long as we hide the obvious differences. This is a mixed public gym where nobody knows you… I suspect it might be more complicated.”

I had not considered this. A new environment means new people with new perspectives. New perspectives mean new problems.

“I’ll just have to play it by ear,” I shrug. God that feels weird with the bra straps pulling as I do it.

“Seeing you like this just feels so normal now,” she admitted with a grin. “I can’t believe we never saw it.”

“This is why I’m the smart one,” Megan grins. “I spotted it first.”

“I think I win that one,” I admit. My expression turns suddenly more serious. “Thanks by the way; for not freaking out and telling everyone.”

Meg gives me a reassuring smile. “Girl, it didn’t even cross my mind. We’ve been friendly for years, but we’re friends for real now. No way I’d ever screw you like that. Plus even without your irritatingly hot bod, there’s no way that anyone that thinks like you could be a boy.”

“What do you mean?”

Meg seems to think for a moment before answering. “Your way of approaching things, how you relate to others. You seem a lot more observant and sensitive to others' feelings. You’re kind and sweet and… I don’t know. I just get a vibe; a girl vibe.”

“Shit if it was that easy I’d have come out years ago.” I grump. “Wish I could make it that simple for my parents.”

“You’re really convinced they’ll take it bad?” Kara asks.

I ponder her question for a minute before answering. “I don’t honestly know,” I admit. “That’s what stops me from doing it. The uncertainty, the risk. For anyone else this might not seem like the end of the world, but to me, it’s everything. I can’t go back to being him… I can’t. If it went wrong and they shaved my head and sent me off to military school, I’d…” I don’t finish the sentence. It’s too painful.

Meg frowns. “Your parents are good people, I’m sure they’d be fine with it. They obviously love you, they’d never do that to you.”

“I really can’t see them doing anything like that, they love you,” Kara adds.

I fix both sisters with a look. “If you knew half of the stories I’ve read of loving families turning on their kids over this, you’d be as terrified as I am.”

 

 

I get home as it's turning six that evening. It’s unusual for me to be out this late as I’m normally the first one home in the afternoon. It turns out that when you have people you can trust to be yourself around, you actually enjoy spending time with them, who knew?

I change out of my school clothes and into a nice cosy hoodie and jeans. I’m feeling a little hyper-aware because I’m still wearing Megan’s sports bra but honestly, it's so comfortable. My chest feels more supported and far less visible, which is honestly giving me so much confidence. The only downside is that my terrified brain is convinced this thin piece of fabric no thicker than a tank top is visible to anyone that looks at me. It’s funny how our brains work, right?

I sit down and get to work knocking my homework out before we eat. For once I didn’t get a chance to do it at lunchtime so it’s a game of catchup to get myself back on track. Who knew having a social life could impact your studies this much?

Dinner is relatively uneventful. We typically eat a little later than most families because we wait for Mom to get back from the hospital. Her shifts aren’t insane but they run a little later meaning that we eat around eight. I might have given the impression that my dad is some sort of macho man obsessed with having sports star sons, but he’s really not. Most weeknights he’s the one cooking because of Mom’s hours.

We eat, no blood is spilled and we go our separate ways. Dad made a rather delicious roast tonight and I’m absolutely stuffed; you can’t just have one helping! I’m ensconced in my room later that night finishing off the last of my English paper when there’s a knock at the door.

“Come in,”

Mom sticks her head in, “You busy honey?”

“Just finishing my paper,” I admit, “sup?”

She walks in and sits down on the bed. “I made you an appointment with Doctor Harris for next Monday. I’ll take you, then I can drop you at school afterward, ok?”

Monday… Monday; my first periods are English and Algebra… awesome. “Sure, works for me.”

Should I be more worried? Yes, this can potentially out me, however, I can contain it if that occurs. Doctors are signatories to HIPPA, meaning that he can’t tell Mom if he finds out anything. I’m over sixteen now which makes me, in medical terms, able to decide my own medical fate. That’s my worst-case scenario and honestly, it’s manageable even if it’s not preferable. Why not just tell my doctor and seek treatment? Insurance bills tend to get you on that front.

Mom looks a little like she wants to talk so I spin around and raise my eyebrows.

“So your father was telling me you’ve been out socializing a lot more since the semester started. It sounds like you are having more fun at school?”

“I’m making some friends I guess.” I concede.

She smiles. “I’m glad sweetie, you’ve had us a little worried for a while. I was really afraid you were struggling to get on with people..”

I feel really bad about this because I can’t tell her why. I want to tell her, I have for years, but I know the risk is too high. I’m afraid of them trying to protect me from myself. I’m afraid of them trying to decide my future.

“I’m fine Mom,” I offer. “I’m doing okay.”

“You can talk to me,” she insists fruitlessly. “You know that, right?”

I wish I could Mom, I really do.

“I know,” I mumble.

I can see that she doesn’t quite believe me and it hurts me so much to lie. I just know this is too much for her to handle.

“Are you happy Alex?”

No, of course, I’m not happy. I’m hiding myself from everyone that matters to me and I’m terrified of being discovered. I’ve fought off suicidal thoughts and depression. I’m nowhere near alright. I’m so far from ok that I’d need to take three boats, one plane, and a bus to get there.

It’s selfish of course. To me, my problems are the worst in the world. I have a roof over my head, parents who technically love me, and an education at an excellent school even if it’s the wrong one. I could be doing far worse and I can survive two years.

I give my mom a more real smile and nod. “I’m good.”

She seems relieved and she leans in and gives me a hug before I can protest. It feels good, but when she pulls back there is an odd look on her face for a moment. It vanishes and she smiles. “Good night sweetie.”

“Night Mom.”

When she leaves, I get up and pull off my sweater so I can get ready for bed. It’s only then that I catch sight of my sports bra in the mirror. She… didn’t, did she?

Oh shit.

 

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“This sure beats dodgeball or running around the gym like idiots.” Andy opines as we walk into the lobby of the Skyline Fitness complex early on Wednesday afternoon.

We left shortly after lunch and made the ten-minute walk the handful of blocks down to the sports center for our first session replacing our regular gym class. According to Mr Carstairs, we treat it like a regular gym; walk up, present your card, and get admitted. We’re able to leave directly from here without returning to school but they will be checking our check-in/checkout times to ensure we are actually going. Fancy eh?

I haven’t ever really described where I go to school, have I? It’s an expensive school in an expensive part of town situated on a big broad leafy boulevard. About half a mile down the same road is Skyline Fitness’s complex which covers most of a city block. It’s a huge sports facility catering to those expensive homes and clients. From school, it's a leisurely walk along the treelined sidewalk and we’re outside the place in no time at all.

We walk up to the counter and approach the attendant. I let Andy do the talking just to prevent things from being weird with pronouns. I had wanted to come earlier and on my own to avoid this, but he insisted on coming with me. Friends; can’t stand them!

“Hey, welcome to Skyline Fitness! Are you members?”

Andy answers in the affirmative and we both hand over our cards. He swipes Andy’s before handing it back to him, no problem at all. When he runs mine through the machine he glances back at me for a second before frowning at his screen. I’ve seen this before; this is the double take where they’re trying to work out if their eyes or their information is correct. I smile casually like nothing is wrong. The man seems to mentally shrug and hands me my card without further comment. “Changing rooms through on the left, enjoy your time with us.”

As we walk through the main atrium area beyond the reception there are big glass windows showing various activity spaces currently in use. The place seems busy and extremely high-end for kids like us. This isn’t some grotty gym in a warehouse; it’s one of those snazzy private facilities that cater to the young and beautiful; Mineral water fountains-R-us.

At the end of the corridor are the changing rooms. One Male and one Female. It shouldn’t be complicated but you know this story already means that’s a total joke. I follow Andy inside and hope nobody makes a stink about my appearance.

The place is nothing like the school’s facilities; it’s clean and tidy and it smells extremely fresh. There’s still this indescribable tang just behind the cleaning products; like fresh balls on a summer morning. The walls are sparklingly white and there’s soft music playing over hidden speakers. There are long wooden benches along the rows of lockers and what appears to be, thankfully, about half a dozen changing cubicles. It’s not perfect but given my options, it’s better than nothing. Without waiting for Andy to decide, I make a beeline for one and lock myself inside before I see anyone else. My goal? Become a changing ninja.

I’ve probably over-prepared for today; I change out of my school uniform and into my workout gear. My plan for this first day is just to check the place over, explore a little, and work out a little while I decide what I want to do with my time. Will I likely get involved in more interesting activities like Badminton later? Sure… but not today.

I pull on my shorts and sneakers followed by my T-shirt and an oversized sweater. It’s a bit much maybe, but I’m trying to bulk myself up a little. The bra is doing a great job of flattening things down up front and I’m even able to stand up straight without it showing. If I’m honest with myself, I might need to see if Megan can get me some more of these things, they’re fantastic.

I’m a little nervous that people will see the outline through my clothes. I know it’s unlikely, but I made sure to wear a thicker shirt and specifically dark colors; nobody gonna catch this girl slipping on a wardrobe malfunction. I tuck my hair into my sweater and make sure things look nice and boring. I look scrawny, but from what I can see, I look like a young boy. This should do just the trick.

Venturing out of the cubicle, I find the locker room now quite a bit busier with guys all over the place. Not everyone from my year chose this option but there are perhaps a dozen guys I can recognize in various stages of undress. I keep my eyes to myself and lock my belongings away before heading out to the Gym proper where I can cease blushing quite so furiously.

So far nobody’s said anything to me, and none of the public members of the gym seem to have noticed anything off. You think I’m obsessed with how people see me? Try living this dual life. It’s exhausting.

“You didn’t hang around,” Andy observes as he joins me outside the changing rooms. “What do you fancy doing?”

I shrug. “Maybe check out the machines, fancy having a look around at what’s on offer?”

“Sounds good,” he shrugs. “Although I do kinda fancy checking out the pool maybe. It would be good for my leg.”

“I er, I'll pass.” I grimace.

We start wandering the lanes of the gym space. To give you a visual representation of the space we’re in. The changing rooms let out into the main fitness area of the center. Around us are all sorts of torture machines and weights designed to abuse your body to the maximum. Being quite an upmarket joint, there are TVs everywhere playing MTV and other channels for the bored exerciser to enjoy. On the far side, there’s a glass wall looking out over the pool, and other rooms that branch off each side hosting things like yoga, pilates, and other group classes. From what I know of the map in the entrance lobby, there are dozens of rooms and spaces for every sport imaginable. To top it off? There are also outside and indoor courts for Tennis and Badminton.

“Now come on, I’m the deformed one, why are you suddenly so bashful?” Andy asks, reaching out towards a convoluted-looking weight machine before rapidly changing his mind.

“Just not a big swimmer and I really don’t react well to all the chlorine,” I admit with a shrug.

Andy looks unconvinced but drops it. “Man, this sure as heck beats rainy soccer or athletics. I can finally feel my gym bag drying out.”

“Changing room’s not bad. Doesn’t stink like school.”

Andy looks confused. “I never really thought they smelled of anything. Maybe wet kit sometimes, but never particularly strong.”

I grimace, “ew.”

He gives me a funny look but says nothing.

Honestly, I’m a little intimidated. “I think I’ll start small today.” I offer, making my way over and claiming a static bike. “This feels more my speed than anything that’s going to rip my arms off.”

Andy chuckles and joins me as we start a relaxed cycle through the nowhere.

“I don’t think I imagined this year going like this,” he admits as we spin our pedals lazily.

“What, riding a bike or going nowhere?”

He shakes his head. “Them treating us like adults and letting us choose this rather than forcing us to be bad at various sports they decided we should play.”

I get his point. Andy has an abnormality that means one leg is shorter than the other. He’s had surgeries to try to lengthen his left leg, but nothing takes very well. It’s meant that he’s always been slower and less capable athletically. It’s never stopped him, but it did make him a target for the bullies. It’s something I can relate to; something about you just being wrong according to everyone else.

“Yeah, not sure I could have survived another year of regular old gym class.”

“Thanks, Alex.” He blurts suddenly. “I mean it.”

I frown at him, “What for?”

“You know; being my friend.”

“I should be thanking you.” I chuckle, “I’m not exactly rolling in friends.”

“You seem to be doing ok this year.” He points out.

I make a face, “That’s not the point and it’s kinda an exception. It’s just random chance luck.”

“So you’re not in tight with the football team and hanging out with loads of girls now?”

“Only the Byrne sisters because we live near to each other. As for the football guys, I don’t think having met a few of them once really counts.”

“I’m just glad, that’s all.” Andy offers giving me a meaningful look. “There was a point last year when I was pretty convinced you were going to do something stupid. Things seemed to start improving so I didn’t say anything. I’m just glad to see you come back from summer almost a new person.”

Shit, for a teenage boy he’s insightful as hell. I should be more concerned with how visible my depression was that others at school saw it, but Andy’s always been pretty in touch with stuff like that. Shut up, no he’s not Trans too.

“Kinda,” I offer tentatively. I don’t want to give him too much to work with. Do I feel bad lying to people? Absolutely, but it's for their safety and mine. If I don’t tell people the truth, they can’t reveal that they hate who I really am. Shrodinger’s asshole is my theory. Somehow it hurts less to pretend that they’d be your friend still.

“I’m going to go try something lower impact,” Andy offers. “Leg’s bothering me.”

As he wanders off I consider what he was saying. To me, my experiences are the worst in the world. My problems are the greatest and most traumatizing of all bar none. I never stop to think that to others, their problems are just as profoundly difficult for them. Others must also struggle with their inner voices. It might not tell them the same things as mine, but surely, words don’t need to be the same to hurt as much.

“Anyone using this machine?”

“Oh, no, sorry.” I snap out of my reverie and look over at the owner of the voice.

The guy grins and hops onto the bike and fiddles with the settings before starting off. “I’m Chris.”

“Alex,” I offer.

“You looked like you were really deep in thought.”

“Uh, I guess, just something a friend said,” I admit. The guy’s pretty athletic, and I don’t think he’s a high school student, at least not one I’ve seen.

“Oh, that must have been really profound then. What was it about?”

I think about how to phrase it. “How your problems seem like the worst possible thing in the world till you meet someone else the same thing, then you realize that to each of us, our worst problem is the end of the world.”

He chuckles, “Yeah actually that is kinda deep. Kinda heavy lifting for even a gym.”

That one makes me smile. “I should keep my thoughts light, maybe it would make the workout easier.”

“So what do you do when you’re not pondering the universe on an exercise bike?”

I wonder about that for a moment, what do I do? “I like to read and watch movies. Getting lost in a good story is honestly so fulfilling.”

“Not bad,” Chris grins. “So, you wouldn’t want to ca…”

“Hey, Alex!”

The interruption surprises me, but I spot Kara and Megan bounding over. “Hey girl, come on, you going to join us for that yoga class? We’re gonna be late!”

What the fuck, is wrong, with her…

I stare daggers at her but she just beams broadly. “Come on silly!!”

I turn back to Chris and smile apologetically. “Sorry, friends, huh?”

He grins and nods, “See you around Alex.”

As we’re walking away I angry whisper in Megan’s ear. “What the fuck was that about? Why the hell are you calling me girl in front of other people?”

Megan smirks. “I didn’t think you’d want me saying “‘Hey bro’ in front of the guy that was hitting on you.”

I stop walking and stare at her. “What?”

“Honey, you’re not exactly Mister Macho right now.” Kara giggles. “You were all smiles and head tilts and he was lapping it up like Sunday dinner.”

“He thought… I was… oh jeez.” I groan, quite literally facepalming. “What the heck.”

I follow the girls over to a corner of the gym and join them in doing some stretches.

“Is it really that bad?”

Meg shrugs whilst doing a splits I can only dream of. “I mean, he was cute, so you do the math.”

“Great.” I huff, attempting to reach my toes. “I was aiming for cute when I got up this morning. Kinda falls short of ‘guy’ though."

I think back to what Andy said earlier. “Am I that different now? Compared to like last year, I mean.”

Meg thinks for a moment before nodding nods. “Yes, and more than just physically.” she grins. “You were there but you were kinda distant. It was like you were disconnected from everything and no matter how much you performed ‘friend’, you didn’t really believe it yourself.”

I chew on the idea for a moment. “This year?”

“I knew something was up that first morning.” Meg opines. “You were far happier but you were absolutely hiding something.”

“That obvious huh?”

“Do you think Gary has any idea?” Kara asks.

“He hasn’t acted weirdly about anything.” I shrug. “I know he’s suspicious as to why we’re suddenly besties.”

Megan grins. “Yeah, we’re the regular ol’ three musketeers now.”

That makes me smile and in turn, the others do too. Holy crap, this feels so good. I don’t try to hide the tear that’s forming in the corner of my eye, instead, I just feel glad. For the first time in my life, I feel glad to simply exist. I’m glad that I have friends that know the real me and I’m glad that I’m at least making the right steps to see a future for myself. I’m especially glad that I get to at least share a tiny tiny slice of teenage girlhood, even if it is deep undercover.

We hang around for another hour trying various machines before we finally get bored. I’m happy to see that Bike Guy heads for the lockers long before we finish our workout so I won’t have an awkward reunion later. We didn’t get past the gym itself, instead mostly talking as we worked our way around the less scary equipment.

I think I’ll enjoy this place, given enough time. I will probably need to reevaluate how I participate going forward, but for now, that’s manageable. The ice I’m skating on is extremely thin and if today is any example, I'm in line for a dunking sooner than later.

I hunch up and gruff my body language up as much as possible before heading back into the locker room once we’re finished. It’s not very occupied, so I can grab my stuff and change without any major problems. I have to say, I do feel more awkward here than I do in the lockers or bathrooms at school. Here, there are members of the public, people who don’t EXPECT a boy when they see me. It makes the risk of detection so much higher.

I escape back out to the lobby with only one or two weird looks from gym patrons before I’m waiting for the girls outside. Thankfully Attendant man is gone from the front desk so I didn’t have to deal with any more weird looks.

“So what do you wanna do? We’re a bit earlier than normal.” I ask when they finally arrive.

Meg shrugs, “We could head into the city for a bit. If we hung around long enough we could try and beg a ride off our Dad?”

I’m not opposed to the idea. The bus sucks, even if it is cheap. I’m more surprised that the idea of socializing is actually exciting for me now Who even am I these days?

The weather at the end of September is still pretty decent, so it’s quite pleasant as we make our way into the city center. It feels good to just exist for once without the pressure of pretending to be someone I’m not. I wish I was walking with them as just another girl, but for now, its a darn good second best.

We head into a couple of stores and I won’t lie, I find it a little uncomfortable. I know my appearance is somewhat mixed, but I still have this mental image of myself as being seen as a boy. A boy being in women's clothing stores is bad and I’m scared someone is going to rush up to me and yell “Pervert!”

It’s dumb, and I don’t need to worry because I’m way more feminine than my stupid fish brain will recognize, but it's also unfamiliarity. I should be super excited to be here, but Im too scared of being seen as not belonging to enjoy it.

Kara is the first to notice and drops back from the whirling shopping dervish that is Megan Byrne.

“You ok?” she asks, falling in alongside me.

“Kinda the first time I’ve been in girls' stores,” I admit sheepishly, fighting the furious blush.

“Ah, I did forget about that,” she grins. “Even dressed like that I kinda forget you’re doing ‘boy’.

She looks at me for a moment and frowns. “You know, we could make things a bit more ambiguous and let people make their own minds up. Nothing crazy ok?”

“I don’t know about that, it feels a little like inviting trouble.”

Kara waves her hand dismissively. “Come on, I got this. I won’t embarrass you I promise!”

She doesn’t wait for my reply before she drags me off towards the changing rooms at the back of the store. There’s no attendant, so she drags me straight inside and secures us behind the curtain.

“Ok, off with the jacket, hoodie, and shirt, come on.”

I roll my eyes and start removing layers. Honestly, I’m starting to get to a point where I don’t question these two; it’s part trust and another part resignation.

When I’m down to my trousers and tee, Kara eyeballs me seriously for a moment before going in without warning and unfastening my belt, and hiking my pants higher.

“What are you doing?” I blurt, surprised at her forwardness.

She ignores me and finishes what she’s doing and steps back to take a look. “Hmm, better, but not quite there yet…” She dives into her bag and starts sorting through things. A few moments later she stands up and hands me a light grey hooded sweatshirt. “Right, lose the tee and put this on.”

I do as she asks and pull the hoodie on after removing my own T-shirt. Kara quickly removes my hair from the neck and pulls the tie out before re-tying it slightly higher in the middle of my head. She pulls a few hairs loose in strategic places and seems satisfied. Digging into her purse, she whips out lipgloss and a mascara tube before giving me a quick touchup.

“Right, take a look,” she says turning me towards the mirror in the cubicle.

I look at the mirror, skeptical of what she’s done until I catch my own reflection. Looking back at me is a plain dressed-down teenage girl. My black pants pulled higher make my thighs look more shapely and longer. The light grey hoodie is from Kara’s gym kit and it’s oversized and comes down past my crotch, somehow making me look tiny in it. My hair is still back in a ponytail, but it’s out of my clothes and over one shoulder. The whisps and the super subtle makeup almost make me look a little cute if I dare say so myself.

This is no pretty princess transformation but I appear undeniably more female now. After gym girl, or going to the store girl. I think deep down, I imagined people meeting Holly in a pretty dress, but I’m far happier that my best friends are meeting regular girl Holly first; this is the real me.

“Wow,” is all I can think to utter, unable to snap my eyes away from the mirror.

“Does the job huh?” Kara grins over my shoulder. “It’s just little things to nudge you over the line, but if we have to, you can pull the pants back down and tuck your hair away and you’re good… well as good as normal.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shoves me out of the cubicle while I hastily stuff my clothes into my backpack. “Normal for you sweetie, is a girl trying really bad to pretend to be a boy. Now go on, git!”

We make our way back to Megan who is decimating a discount rack like a Racoon in a trashcan.

“Where did you two get…wow.” she gawps. “Oh, we’re doing this now are we?”

I shrug and grin sheepishly. “I guess I am, blame Kara.”
Meg smiles at me and leans in for a quick hug. “Not bad for dressed down girly. One day we’ll do the works on you, ya hear?”

Kara paused suddenly, as though struck by a thought “What do we call you? Do we still call you Alex or something else? I can’t believe I never asked before now.”

I look at my friends and smile. “My name is Holly.”

Meg grins, “It suits you, girl.”

“Can we get on with shopping now without you being all miserable and weird?” Kara asks. “If you’re lucky we can actually get you some more of your own bras.”

I hadn’t considered getting them myself, but with these girls by my side, I feel brave enough.

We go from shop to shop just browsing. Occasionally one of the girls will try something on but I’m not quite ready to do that myself. Kara is right though, I feel far more comfortable like this. Now I know everyone sees three girls I don’t feel any awkwardness at all.

“You know, I don’t even know what my style would be,” I admit. “There’s so many things I want to try, but I really don’t know what I like.”

Meg nods. “Yeah, it takes years to establish a style, but there’s plenty of staples you’ll want anyway; jeans, tees, skirts; stuff you can mix and match. Any kinda more specific style is totally on top of that.”

“Oh, over here, they have a sports section.” Kara gestures dragging me by the arm. “We can get you some bras of your own.”

“Nothing super feminine, and preferably something people won’t feel through my clothes.” I insist. “I’m pretty sure I’ve had a few close calls already.”

“Short of using a sports bandage for an excuse, you’re going to just have to be more careful. We can get some less visible colors though so things shouldn’t show through your clothes.”

The store thankfully has a pretty broad selection of sports bras varying from ones designed to be worn on their own as a top, to ones that are more subtle for under your clothing. Between the girls and I, we managed to select four that should do a fair job at controlling the twins. I’d love to describe them to you in delicious feminine detail but they’re basic sports bras; there’s no lace, no pushups, just nice comfortable compression. These are to keep my girls in order, not put them up as the headline act.

I have a feeling that I won’t be able to stay out of that kind of underwear for long with these two idiots helping me; given half the chance they’ll have me dressed up like a frilly Barbie doll. Will I let them? Probably. I just have to avoid any permanent changes like piercings, plucking, or cuttings and I’m gold. Come on, those are the number one mistakes in trans fiction; our heroine gets her eyebrows done, or ears pierced when she’s not paying attention and the jig is up.

There’s not really a ton of exciting trans drama to this trip; I don’t try on pretty dresses or get a makeover. We enjoy browsing and chatting away and It feels so normal that I’m in heaven. I look forward to this being my typical shopping experience. One day Holly… one day. For now, I just have to take what little joy I can find, and by gosh I do.

“Here you go girls, enjoy.”

I take my coffee from the Barista while Megan and Kara grab their cups of caffeinated goodness. So far, not a single person has considered me anything other than another girl this afternoon and I’m well aware that I have to put this back in the box shortly. If I’m honest, I’m considering flights to Azerbaijan so that I don’t have to.

“Dad will be here in twenty,” Meg tells us sadly, checking her text messages. “Might want to neutralize Holly before he gets here.”

“God, I wish I didn’t have to go,” I admit quietly.

“I’m going to have to be so careful going forward to call you Alex,” she admits smiling forlornly. “It feels so fake now.”

Kara squeezes me in a friendly side hug. “Girl, if we weren’t already convinced that this is the real you, today would have just cemented that. You might have to pretend to be Alex for a while but our BFF Holly will always be just behind the surface.”

BFF… blub.

As I return myself to the neutral boy mode mess that is Alex, I can’t help but feel quite hollow now. This was the first time I really outwardly presented as female to the world at large with intent and it would change me forever. Seems silly that a half-assed makeover and shopping with my best friends was so monumental, but it felt like vindication after twenty years behind bars.

In those early days, even little experiences like this one felt amazing, and going back to full boy mode always stung. It wasn’t hard, being Alex. He was a good kid and he had a decent life. The truth was that it just wasn’t who I was.

Today had caused a problem; a little Holly had reached the surface and now she was gasping for air. The can of worms was opened, the signal beacons were lit and the cat was out of the bag. Keeping myself hidden behind Alex was now a countdown timer.

I suck at counting.

 

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

 

 

I had absolutely no idea where I was, but I was almost certain I could hear the faint and terrifying sound of banjoes. The bus had dropped me in a small town about thirty minutes away from home and about an hour away from school if my math was correct. According to Rick, this place was only a short drive from his parents' place, and from where I was standing, it seemed like a short drive from the middle of nowhere.

He’d offered to come pick me up from my place, but I didn’t feel that was entirely appropriate given the unspoken situation that was afoot. Being a big independent totally male friend, I’d asked for the closest I could get by bus. This hole, Johnson Creek, was it. According to Rick, he was heading into town to grab some supplies for his dad from the local hardware store so he’d pick me up and run us both out to the Ranch. This was totally the arrangement two dudes would make who are platonic male friends.

The last heat of summer was starting to fade now, so I’d thrown an open plaid shirt over my plain black T-shirt and cargos. I hoped I looked fairly in theme for hanging out in the country, but I honestly had no idea considering that I was a suburban kid. I was increasingly happy with the sports bras I’d bought with the girls earlier in the week, which, when combined with a shirt and sometimes an overshirt gave me a decent facsimile of a male chest. I was fairly confident I was flat enough to avoid having to constantly resort to bulky sweaters which was a relief. The advantage of the open shirt was that it gave me more bulk around the waist too.

Willy’s Hardware was a weatherworn little storefront on a fairly quiet strip of shops here in the center of Johnson Creek. I’d call it a strip mall, but it would give it far more credit than it deserved. It had been barely a two-minute walk from the bus stop and so far, nobody had given me any odd looks for standing around and waiting on their sidewalk. It seemed that out here, people kept to their own business.

I was only waiting a few minutes further before an older red Chevy pickup swung into the lot and parked directly in front of me. Rick hopped down from the cab and smiled. I’d seen him out of school before, but at the Mall, he dressed like all the other jocks in sneakers and designer brands. Right now, he was in a pair of beat-up cowboy boots, jeans, and a grubby gray T-shirt that fitted him extremely well. This wasn’t Mister Popular, this was the farm kid with his mask off. I’m sure it’s a strange way to phrase it, but I thought he looked far more real this way.

“Have you been waiting long?” He asks brightly.

I shake my head. “No, only just got here. I thought the bus was taking me to some old shack in the woods.”

Rick grins as we head inside Willy’s store. “Yeah, it’s a little bit out in the sticks but it’s worth it for the view once you get out of town.”

I shrug, “I’ll take your word for it, I’m not super outdoorsy really.”

“You’ll like it, there’s nothing like it.” He replies with enthusiasm. “We won’t be long here, Dad needs me to grab him some nails and a bunch of wire.”

The inside of the store is poorly lit and well-worn but still incredibly neat and tidy. Whoever Willy is, he takes great pride in his little store. I follow Rick like a hapless puppy as he confidently navigates the isles filled with tools and supplies until he finds what he needs. Approaching the register he drops the tub of nails and wire drum on the counter and rings an old-fashioned bell on the wall.

“I’m a-comin', hold yer horses!” a time-ravaged voice plucked directly from an old western movie hollers from somewhere deep in the back of the store. A few moments later a stooped old man shuffles in from the storeroom and smiles toothily at Rick. He’s wearing faded denim overalls and a neat button-up shirt. What little is left of his hair is a shock of white.

“Your pops send you in for more stuff eh?”

“You know Dad,” Rick smirks, pulling out his wallet. “Kids visiting you this weekend Willy?”

The old man rings him up and rolls his eyes dramatically behind thick wire-rimmed spectacles. “Whenever they have time for me you mean! They keep tryin’ get me to move in with 'em, but I won’t give up the old store.”

“Won’t be the same if you did,” Rick grins. “Oh hey Willy, this is Alex, we go to school together.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Alex, he’s a good boy this one.” Old Willy tips an imaginary cap.

I turn bright red but Rick doesn’t seem to notice as he’s busy checking his phone for a text message. “Crap, we gotta beat it Willy, I gotta grab some stuff for Mom before we head home. Catch you around.”

“Have a good day kids,” Willy waves, already halfway back through the door to the stockroom.

“Well, he’s a character,” I opine as we leave. I’m still slightly embarrassed by the old man’s assumption.

“Yeah, Willy’s been around longer than I have. He was running that store when Dad was my age.”

“So you’ve always lived here then,” I ask as we walk along the row of shops, “your family?”

Rick nods, “Since 1890 according to Gramps. Always been Taylors on the land up here.”

“My parents moved from New York,” I offer. “They met at college there; Cornell.”

“Your Mom’s a Doctor, right? That’s a damn good school.”

“I’m hoping to make it there myself,” I admit. “If I can bump my 3.9 to a 4.0.”
Rick whistles. “Not bad at all. I’m hoping to do business, should set me up to take over the Ranch one day for Dad.”

“What’s what you want to do? Run the family place?”

Rick nods. “Yeah, I want to keep it in the family, I see it as a legacy thing.”

It’s a side of him I’ve never really seen before but one I can respect. Like me, he wants to follow in his parent’s footsteps; I can relate to that.

We make our way into a grocery store at the end of the strip and Rick grabs a cart from a rack outside before pushing it through the doors. “Sorry for dragging you around doing chores, parents eh?”

“All good,” I admit. “Wasn’t going to do anything else other than hang out with some chump from school anyway.”

He just gives me a look and shakes his head. “You’re as bad as my sister.”

“I should probably be insulted,” I chuckle. “I never knew you had a sister.”

He nods. “Yeah, Anna’s twenty-five, she’s a geologist down in New Mexico someplace. She’s working for an Oil Company. Back when she was here she’d give me so much crap, I miss her though.”

“Just you two and your parents now?”

He nods and grabs a pack of bread rolls off the shelf. “Yeah, just the three of us at the moment if you don’t count any of the ranch hands. It’s quiet but I kinda like it that way, you know?”

I nod, realizing that this guy’s a lot more lonely than he lets on at school. We certainly have that in common. I wonder if I would have done something similar to him if I’d been a boy, well, If I'd been happy as a boy. Whatever, you know what I mean.

We continue around the store and acquire the rest of his Mom’s list before checking out. Thankfully I manage to avoid any more genderings from any of the townsfolk and we head back out to his truck with grocery bags in hand. Rick takes the bags and his hardware acquisitions and loads them into the bed before unlocking the cab. I hop up on the passenger side before any door weirdness can occur and belt in. (Hey, I’m a good city girl ok? Always wear your seatbelt)

Rick starts the truck up and backs us out of the lot. Before long we’re heading out of the small town and into the rolling countryside beyond.

“I can’t believe it’s this wild so close to where I live,” I murmur, my face glued to the window like a certain cartoon orange cat.

Rick glances over and smiles proudly. “Yeah, amazing how small our worlds can be sometimes. I really don’t get into the city much besides school and stuff. Dad wants to make sure I get the best education possible.”

“Here was me thinking you were like all the rest of the jocks; brainless and going nowhere after high school.”

Rick rolls his eyes. “That school clique shit is such bullshit. I went from being the butt of jokes to supposedly one of the cool crowd in the span of a year because I’m playing a damn sport. You get treated like crap because you don’t and you like comic books.”

For the first time, I feel like joking about my social life. “I mean, I am particularly awful at sports, you can attest to that.”

He nods and turns the truck off the road and onto a long gravel driveway. “So terrible I ain’t letting you near a gun or anything sharp. This,” he gestures through the windshield towards a large ranch house, “is me.”

The Taylor home is a beautiful two-storey timber ranch house with a huge stone chimney and slate roof. Off to one side is a long stable block and a barn with what appears to be more buildings poking out behind it. Several cars are parked out front along with a pair of trucks carrying a logo. He wasn’t kidding when he said the place was a working ranch.

“Damn, now I feel like I live in a hovel.”

“You’ll give me a big head,” he admits sheepishly, pulling the truck up beside an expensive-looking European BMW Sedan. “I’m lucky though, I know.”

We hop down from the truck and gather up the shopping before heading up the wide wooden steps to the front of the house. I’m still in awe of this place. I thought I had a nice house in the ‘burbs, but it’s nothing compared to this. Our big four-bed colonial feels pokey in comparison.

“We’re back Mom,” Rick calls as we enter the foyer. “I managed to get everything but the Basil!”

“It’s fine, I can work with Oregano but it won’t taste the same.” a female voice called from what I presume is the kitchen. A moment later a dark-haired woman in her late forties pops into the room drying her hands on a towel. “You said you had a… oh, hello dear.” she smiles directly at me. “Rick said he had company today but he didn’t say who was coming, I’m Rebecca, his mother.”

“Mom, this is Alex, we go to school together.”

“Lovely to meet you dear,” she smiles diving straight in for a hug. I stand somewhat wooden and accept the sudden invasion of my personal space and somewhat awkwardly pat her once or twice before she steps back. “How long have you two…?”

“Uh, only since the start of term really,” I admit sheepishly. “But we kinda knew each other for a while I guess.”

Rick’s mother smiles. “Rick, take that shopping through to the kitchen and put it away please, what do I pay you for?”

“You don’t,” he mutters taking the bag from me and disappearing through into the kitchen.

Rebecca Taylor smiles and I watch her eyes flick across me in that analytical way many women do to assess someone new. She smiles kindly, “Did my son tell you something about ranches and horses and not provide any context?”

“Uh, I guess Ma’am,” I smile sheepishly. “I mean he said he lived on one.”

Quick, change the topic and distract with compliments.

“You have a beautiful home, Mrs Taylor, It’s so lovely out here.”

“It’s Rebecca remember, and thank you, dear.”

Rick returns and extracts me from the awkward parental interaction. “Alex, come on, we’ll have a few hours till lunch.”

I bid his mother goodbye and follow Rick through to a large family room on the far side of the house with a deck that looks out over broad rolling pastures.

“Wow,” I breathe, looking out of the floor-to-ceiling windows. “This place is gorgeous.”

“It’s pretty neat,” he admits. “It’s always been home so I guess It’s pretty normal, but the view never gets old.”

“So what do you want to do?”

Rick drops down on a huge sofa and picks up a controller. “Plumber Kart rematch?”

“Oh boy, you are in for it now.” I grin.

 

 

“Lunch!”

“Thank god,” Rick sighed tossing his controller on the couch. “I don’t think I can stand getting my ass kicked for any longer.”

I stretch and don’t try to hide my self-satisfied smirk. “I’m afraid I’m just better.”

He looks pleased. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you genuinely look this happy.”

I shrug feeling a little self-conscious suddenly. “It’s nice to be able to just kick back, no pretenses, you know?”

Rick nods knowingly and points towards the kitchen. “I get it, now come on before Mom yells at us.”

The kitchen in the Taylor house is as stunning as the rest of the place. The large space is dominated by a central island and a full suite of appliances and amenities. Not something I would come to fully appreciate till I had a home of my own in many years time. That’s not a woman thing, it’s an adult thing. Trust me; no kid is interested in fitted appliances and granite countertops.

Future Holly: You should see me in a home store, I’m like a Tornado in a Texas trailer park. But I’m being a nerd, so I’ll apologize and get back to the juicy ‘will they won’t they’ tension.

Rick’s Mom smiles as we enter. “I’ll take it from all the noise that you two had fun with your video games?”

“Yeah, and Sorry Mom, Alex was kicking my butt,” Rick grins elbowing me gently.

“And I fully support that,” she adds with an approving nod. “Rick and his Dad are both sore losers, they need bringing down a peg sometimes.” She adds, giving me a pointed look I don’t follow. “Lunch on the side, I’ll be up in my study.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Rick grins as he slides onto a stool on the island and grabs a plate.

“She seems nice,” I offer, collecting my own lunch, a lovely roll that I seem to recall from earlier this morning. Chicken Ceasar? Nice.

“She must like you, my teammates only get to call her Mrs Taylor.” he chuckles between bites. “Man, how did you get that good at Plumberkart?”

“A lot of time to myself,” I admit with a sardonic smile. “Plus I’ve always preferred games like that over shooters. You should see me on BashHandyScoot. I can whip all comers until they’re begging for me to end their suffering.”

Rick looks a little more serious for a moment. “That’s what I mean; you have this sadness about you, like a shadow that follows you around. Occasionally though when you’re comfortable or nobody is watching, you have this brightness that shines through.”

“I hope you’re not writing that for an English essay, you’ll get a D for it.” I opine, using the sandwich as a mask to hide my blush. Why does this guy have to be so… right?

“I mean it.” he pushes. “Like earlier; you were a totally different person; much freer and a lot more fun to hang around.”

Rut Roh Raggy.

“I was?”

His face takes on a weird look for a moment and he nods. “Yeah, it was cool.”

My brain doesn’t really want to work so I take a bite of the sandwich. “Uh, That’s good I guess?”

“It is,” He nods. “Phase two starts this afternoon; we’re doing something completely outside your comfort zone.”

I furrow my brow and lower my sandwich. “We are not riding horses are we?”

Me and my big mouth…

 

 

“Woah uh, slow down girl.” The horse I’m perched precariously atop is moving without any input from me and Rick is not helping at all. To think that I believed he was a nice guy this morning…

“Just relax and stop being so tense, she can tell you’re terrified,” Rick laughs from down beside me. We’ve not gone far, we’re still in the coral next to their barn and I’m sitting atop a piebald (apparently) horse called Clover. Right now I’m positive she has designs to kill me.

I force myself to relax my legs and release the death grip I’m maintaining on my poor mount. The several tons of animal between my legs start to slow down. Rick shakes his head at my terrible riding and swings himself up onto his own steed. He trots over to the gate and leans down with relaxed ease to open it before walking through. “Come on over here, just turn her right.”

I gulp and start to steer my mount towards the now-open gate. The horse seems to comply and follows my instructions without question. She has yet to bolt violently for freedom so I’m optimistic that I can stay on her back for the time being. We walk slowly through and I ease her to a stop while Rick closes the gate.

“You ok?” he asks, pulling up alongside me.

“I’m not dead yet,” I postulate, “But there’s still time.”

Rick grins. “This isn’t so hard, I promise. I’ll stick with you no matter what. Now come on; we’re burning daylight.”

With that, and a gentle squeeze of my mount, we start moving away from the Ranch. The training wheels are off now; it’s just me, a horse, and a moron.

We ride up and away from the yard and out towards the forest to the south of the Ranch property. To his credit, Rick is a very patient teacher and before long I’m managing a decent trot without screaming in terror. This is my literal first time on horseback and so far I’ve not managed to hurt myself, I count that as a significant achievement.

We chat casually as we ride along the treeline that borders the southern pasture. Having lived in the city my whole life, everything I’m experiencing today is brand new. The scenery out here is breathtaking and the smell of real-life honest to god pine trees is intoxicating.

“You know, now you’ve settled down, you’re doing just fine.” Rick offers casually. “Fun isn’t it?”

“I don’t hate it,” I admit. “I still prefer solid ground and video games but fair is fair, you deserve a win.”

“I’m not trying to win. I just want to see you focus your attention on something different and stop worrying.”

“You sure you’re not cut out for psychology than business?” I quip. Look, jokes are my defense mechanism. When people get too close, I evade with comedy, I do it even to this day.

After riding on for another thirty minutes, we arrived at a wide shallow creek that flows lazily out from the forest and across the pasture. Rick leads the way, and I follow carefully down the bank towards the water.

“This is safe, right?”

Rick looks back at me as he’s halfway across and waves me forward. “Come on, it's not even up to her knees. Tell her to go forward and she’ll do the rest.”

I utilize what little control I have over this hairy beast to urge her forward slowly out into the water. He’s right, it’s not that deep, but I’m still learning to cope with horses on land and I haven’t taken the amphibious class yet. What happens next is entirely of my own doing, but there is a reason. I’m blaming it on inexperience and prior knowledge of horse-related injuries, all entirely gleaned from movies.

I slip my feet out of the stirrups, nervous about getting caught up if the horse falls over and I drown trapped beneath the animal. In all the western movies, someone gets screwed over by their horse. Hell, do you remember the scene in The King’s Comeback where the King of the Horsemen is trapped under his mount and dies? I figure a river crossing is a likely spot for this to happen to me. It turns out, however, that for me, this was the first of several compounding mistakes. What really kicks it off, is that I have Clover going so slowly that she steps on a rock and her hoof slips sideways. She’s forced to rebalance herself which results in a jolt that I would have withstood had I been properly seated; I am not, I’m twisted around to see how far we’ve come out into the river and how deep it is…

“Oh shiiitttt!”

Clover sidesteps, my feet only find air and suddenly I’m sliding sideways off her back and heading straight for an untimely death. With an almighty splash, I land in the creek butt first. It’s just deep enough that It doesn’t hurt, but shallow enough that I’m soon resting on the bottom and I’m staring up at a very concerned-looking Clover who’s wondering why her idiot passenger decided to make a swift exit.

“Alex!” Rick rides over and dismounts straight into the water without a care in the world and pulls me upright. “Are you ok? What happened?”

I spit hair out of my face and shake like a wet dog. “I… that… blegh!”

Rick looks at me for a second and then bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, you are a sight!”

I push my hair back and scowl at him. I am soaked to the bone and this git has the balls to laugh at my misfortune? This whole mess is made worse because I can’t even remove my soaked clothes to wring them out without revealing some problematic secrets.

“Come on,” he grins, shaking his head. “I’ll get Clover, try and find dry land.”

He leads the horses over to the far bank and ties them off to a tree while I trudge across the rest of the creek and up onto the far bank. Now the shock of the dunking is past, I’m starting to worry about my current predicament. I am wet, and I cannot get dry without exposing my secret.

Turning away from Rick, I pull off my overshirt and wring it out as best I can. It’s sopping wet and still dripping, but it’s a slight improvement. I discovered to my great concern that my hair tie is missing and I only have a spare back at the house in my backpack; not entirely ideal. I pull off my sneakers and empty the water out before clambering up the bank. Rick is watching me, and his expression is hard to read. He doesn’t look like he’s laughing, but he doesn’t look pissed either. “Uh, Yeah best I can manage,” I admit with a shrug. “Sorry, I messed everything up.”

He stares at me for a second before seemingly shaking himself and looking at me properly. “I.. sorry!” He grabs a jacket from the saddle of his horse and hands over it awkwardly. “It’s the only dry stuff I have, we can head back to the house, I’m sure we got some stuff you can wear. Jeez, I didn’t think…”

“My stupid fault” I smile sheepishly, “I slipped. It wasn’t Clover’s fault.”

Rick shakes his head. “We’ll head back and get you dry, I know a shortcut. Are you going to be ok to ride?”

I shake a sodden leg and shove my foot back into one of my sneakers. “I’m going to have to be, aren’t I?”

I catch him looking at me again, and it’s a little unsettling. I pull my wet hair back behind my ears and shift my weight awkwardly. “Rick?”

He seems to focus and smiles like nothing is wrong. “Sorry, was just thinking about something,” he admits with a silly smile. “Come on, I’ll get us back and we can get you dried off. I’m really sorry Alex.”

The trip back to the ranch is somewhat awkward at first. Our conversation is a little stilted and he doesn’t seem to want to talk too much. I’m worried that he’s seen something, that I let my guard down or the dunking revealed more of me than I wanted him to see. I think in reality, he might be more embarrassed that his fun adventure has ended up with me miserable and soaking wet on the back of a horse. Thankfully, my fears are unfounded and soon we’re chatting away again like nothing is wrong.

The ride back takes around twenty minutes and the wind has managed to turn me from soaking to soggy. Truth be told, I was starting to get the hang of this horse business. It’s my first time riding, but I think If I got a little more experience I might actually enjoy it. Once we’re back and we’ve stabled the horses I’m able to trudge my way up toward the house. Rick’s mom appears from upstairs as she hears us enter.

“Rick, is that you?”

“Yeah Mom, we’re back uh… we had a bit of a mishap.”

She appears around the corner and her eyes go wide. “Oh gosh, what the heck did you get Alex into?”

“Yeah, uh, horses, rivers, and me don’t mix too well.” I offer awkwardly, trying my hardest to not drip.

“Come with me,” she orders, scowling at her son. “Let’s get you dried off and into some fresh clothes before you catch your death. And you,” she adds, gesturing at her son. “Go tell your father dinner will be ready soon and to get the hell out of whatever he’s doing in the Barn.”

“Yes Mom,” Rick salutes and beats a hasty retreat.

That leaves me firmly in the clutches of Rebecca Taylor.

“Come on now honey, let’s get you sorted out. My darn son can be such an idiot at times showing off. You’ve never ridden before have you?”

I shake my head. “No, It’s my first time.” I feel the need to defend Rick suddenly. “I did like it though, it wasn’t his fault.”

“Oh it’s great, but it needs a little practice. And that boy takes you through the creek on your first ride? Of course,” she sighs. “Right, the bathroom is here, grab a shower and I'll bring you a change of clothes okay? Grab any towel off the side.”

I go inside and lock the door before spotting myself in the mirror. Beyond my somewhat disheveled and soggy appearance, my hair has been wind-dried on the ride back and is now rivaling Tina Turner for volume. Now I know why Rick was giving me weird looks, I absolutely look like a girl right now.

I strip out of my wet clothes before tackling my sports bra. In case you haven’t ever tried to take off a wet one, it is like wrestling a greased-up raccoon in a phone booth; nobody comes out as the winner. Eventually naked, I slip into the shower and turn on the water. The Taylor’s shower is a walk in and it features one of those deluge heads that utterly soaks you all the way down to your soul. I borrow some shampoo and conditioner and manage to get myself washed and clean in no time at all.

The powerful jets of water manage to pound the soreness out of my infrequently used muscles.
It’s moments like these in the shower where I feel most like me. With one… glaring exception, I’m just a girl in the shower. I can pretend the world is right, at least for a little while. If you think this is some sexy prelude to me fantasizing about Rick and having a really nice time on my own, you have another thing coming, dear reader.

I get out of the shower and wrap myself in a towel while I dry my hair. My reflection in the mirror is undeniably female at the moment, though the towel around my boobs and my soggy blonde hair isn’t helping that. I’m contemplating just how girly I was looking after my dunking earlier when there’s a knock on the door. Without any sort of warning the lock clicks open and Mrs Taylor steps inside with a stack of clothes in hand. What’s the point of knocking if she isn’t going to wait for me to answer? It’s like asking if someone is lactose intolerant and then feeding them a whopping slice of cheesecake anyway.

“Feeling better?” she asks brightly, totally ignorant of the deer in the headlights expression on my startled face.

“I got you some dry things to wear honey, they should fit you just fine. They belonged to my eldest Anna before she flew the coop so don’t worry about returning them. She was a bit of a tomboy like you so it’s nothing too frilly, don’t you worry.”

“Eh?”

She looks at me like I’m stupid. “Clothes honey, so you don’t have to wear your wet ones?”

It all seems to dawn on me at once. She thinks I’m a girl, meaning that she’s thought this since I arrived this morning. Wait just a hair-brained second, does she she think I’m Rick’s girlfriend?

OhgodwhatthefuckamIgoingtodo.

“Uh, thanks Mrs…Rebecca, I appreciate it.”

“No problem honey, you get dressed and there’s a hair dryer in the cupboard below the towel rack ok?”

She lets herself out and leaves me there in a towel holding a stack of clothes in my arms. I’m still processing what just happened and I’m trying to work out what to do to avoid any weirdness. Does Rick suspect? Is it just his mom not putting two and two together?

I drop the clothes on the countertop and examine what’s there. A pair of fairly plain-looking jeans, some plain cotton panties, a white T-shirt, and a plain bra. Along with all this, is a navy blue sweatshirt with a crest on the back that looked vaguely Jesusy. Honestly? Could be far worse. If this was some work of Transgender fiction, she’d have given me a dress and everyone would be complimenting me on my pretty pink panties.

Without many options, I pick up the panties and examine them; they’re clean, cotton, and dry, It’s not like I’m showing anyone these, so whatever. I’m not explaining tucking to you guys, you know exactly what it is… I slip the panties up my legs and ‘take care of business’ so that things appear more normal in that regard. The jeans come next and they’re a reasonably good fit. They fit a bit more snugly around the waist and hips than I’m used to, but it’s surprisingly comfortable. I button the fly and settle them higher around my waist. A quick glance in the mirror shows a girl wearing jeans, jeans that actually fit her. Honestly, I’m a little shocked by how well.

The bra I reject out of hand; there is no way I’m going to do anything to make these things any bigger! I can just claim it didn’t fit if anyone even bothers to ask. I slip on the teeshirt which fits far too well, it doesn’t really give me any compression but it adds a little bulk. The Sweater is a saving grace; it’s oversized and comes down to just below my crotch and the sleeves hang past my fingertips so my chest is far less visible once it’s zipped up and I assume my classic hunched posture.

Once I’m done taming my mane with the hair dryer, I finally look somewhat presentable. The jeans are a little too fitted and they make my hips look quite curvy. The blow dryer has made my hair look more full than I’d like, but overall, I’m reading mostly boy. This is apparently not what Mrs Taylor has seen at all. It’s the best I’m going to get, so tidying up my own clothes, I cautiously exit the bathroom.

I can hear voices downstairs, I’m trying to work out what to do when Rick exits what I assume is his room down the corridor. He too has changed, now wearing sweats and a tanktop. “Hey, Alex! You good?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so. Your Mom lent me some clothes to wear home, I didn’t… my stuff was still wet.” I offer holding up the soggy bundle.

“I can take care of those for you, we got a dryer in the basement” he offers reaching out for the clothes. I allow him, thankful that I’d stuffed my damp sports bra into the hoodie pocket. He frowns for a moment and looks at my back. “Ah, I thought it was.”

“Was what?”

“That sweater was my sister’s… it's from her school, St Josephines.”

“I uh, she just… she just gave me this stuff, I guess because im a lot smaller than you.” I bluster, hoping it sounds right.

Rick chuckles and shakes his head. “Don’t worry dude, you’d swim in one of mine.”

“Come on down, we can toss your stuff in the dryer then chill for a bit while it dries.”

“I don’t want to stick around all day, I don’t want to outstay my welcome.”

“Nah, it’s cool. Mom loves you and I kinda owe you one after letting you get dunked.”

I suppose the combined mental and physical exhaustion of the day had finally worn down my reluctance because when Rick had offered to drive me home later that evening I accepted. It had been a good day overall and I had enjoyed myself. The confusion with his mother aside, it had been one of the most distracting days I’ve had in a long time.

We pulled up outside my house a little after nine and Rick shut off the truck.

“Hey, thanks for today,” I offer. “I really did have a good time, even with the horses and rivers.”

“It does get easier, I promise. You can even manage to not get wet normally.”

“Well, you’ll have to do a better job of teaching next time.” I quip before realizing it sounds like a date. I blush, but in the darkness, I hope it’s not visible.

“Yeah, I will,” Rick replies with this weird half-smile. “I’ll see you at school Alex.”

“See you,” I offered, hopping down from the cab.

As I head up the driveway, I hear the truck start and pull away from the curb. I stop for a moment and watch it head down the street and vanish into the darkness. I actually miss him, and I was looking forward to seeing him again on Monday. I swallowed and shook my head, I have to be strong; this is only a friendship. I’m just not used to having actual male friends and missing them. I miss Megan and Kara and want to tell them about today. That feels the same way, right? I sighed and hefted my bag over my shoulder and headed for the house.

 

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

 

 

“Alexander Winters?” The nurse called from the end of the corridor.

“I’ll see you soon honey,” Mom smiled, barely looking up from her magazine. Yes, the mighty Doctor Winters, Cardiothoracic Specialist extraordinaire was reading a fashion magazine in the doctor's waiting room like a regular mom doing regular Mom stuff.

I got up, walked across to the nurse, and followed her to the Doctor’s office. I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t a little apprehensive about this appointment. I know it’s likely the closest challenge I’ll have in this precarious adventure of mine. It also might be the first time I have to fess up, gulp!

“Hi, Alex, how are we doing?” Doctor Harris asked as I plop down in the seat beside his desk.

“I’m good, I guess.”

Doctor Harris smiles and gives me a quick once-over with his eyes. “Your mother said you had a bit of food poisoning last week and she had some other concerns, how are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling great,” I offer with a big happy, and totally authentic smile. “I even went horse riding at the weekend (Thank you Rick for that excuse). I’m honestly feeling all better now. It was just the fish I had for lunch that week.”

Harris nods in that knowing way Doctors do that already have the answers to the questions they’re asking. “Sometimes our bodies can just have a glitch like that without reason,” he offered fixing me with a more knowing look. “She did mention you might have been reluctant to go to gym class though, that you perhaps felt inferior to the other boys, perhaps developmentally?”

Ah, the main thrust of this appointment. Time to counter; “I’m fine Doctor, I promise. I was in the gym last week, I’m actually very happy with my body.”

Yes, I do like my body… because it’s mostly fixed bar one small issue.

“All the same, I’d like to take a look at you and check you over. Nothing major, just so we can be sure you’re running on all cylinders as it were. Let's call it checking under the hood eh?”

Ah, yes, tell the teen boy a car metaphor and he’ll get it; good work Doctor.

“Do we have to do this?” Hey, nobody ever said you couldn’t ask…

Doctor Harris raises an eyebrow. “Well, it’s not technically required. You could refuse, but I wouldn’t see why. I’m just trying to ensure that you’re healthy, Alex. You’re a growing teen, and it’s for your own good.”

Here we reach the big hinge point. Mom has put me in this position, but I need to get out of it in one piece. I don’t think I have a lot of options to avoid him finding out about me and if this goes right, it might help?

I cannot put into words the immobilizing fear of coming out to someone. It’s terrifying and it’s one thing I won’t ever forget for the rest of my life. I’m not stupid though, so I’m going to ensure I’m covered in case of shenanigans.

“You’re required by HIPPA to limit any medical information regarding my health to me because I’m sixteen right?”

Doctor Harris eyeballs me hard. “Yes, I am, why?”

This is it, the cash money moment where I tell a doctor the truth about me and hope for the best. I’ve read all the horror stories in the past of unsupportive physicians, ones that might try to tell my parents because I’m still a legal dependent even though I’m sixteen. It’s something I’ve been reluctant about because of the overriding pressure of parental control. I have to take a leap of faith.

“Doctor, I’m... uh, transgender.”

Harris’s eyebrows rise as it clicks. “I see…” he murmurs, surprised by my news before the penny drops. “I suppose I now see your reluctance.”

He hasn’t tried to sacrifice me for Sky Pixies yet, so there’s a chance he isn’t a hater. I sit up straight and pull my posture in. Now I’m behaving more like the real me, not the boy mask. So far, I’ve only let two people see Holly on purpose, now it’s three. “Yes Doctor, I know this might come as a surprise, but I hope you can understand both my reluctance to do gym class with boys and also my nerves regarding my examination.”

“I would like to still perform one, if I may, if you are to pursue any treatment regarding this it might be of benefit to you going forwards.”

Time for the sauce. “Uh, there might be a slight problem there.”

Harris eyes me suspiciously. His eyes flit across my general appearance and he sighs. “Let me guess, you’re already in treatment, and your parents don’t know?”

I purse my lips, “Somewhat right on both accounts.”

Harris looks irritated. “Are you telling me the s…d…child of a physician is going against best advice and self-medicating? You of all people should be aware of how dangerous that is?”

“I know that Doctor, I promise I do,” I admit feeling more than a little sheepish under his rightful ire. “You have to understand that I didn’t feel as though I had a choice. I reached a point of extreme desperation and I did my research. I sourced it from a safe place and I’ve been monitoring for issues as best I can. I cannot be certain my parents wouldn’t take action against my desires. It was do this and prevent a male puberty or it was a far darker outcome”

Doctor Harris turned his chair around to face me, unclipped his name badge, and tossed it onto his desk. “I’m not Doctor Harris right now, I’m Tony Harris; the guy who went to school with your Mom, the guy who’s seen you grow from diapers to dungarees. Off the record Alex, your mom isn’t that kind of person.”

“People often manage to surprise you,” I reply only slightly bitterly. “If you affect their lives and careers people will change their tune pretty quickly. If I disturb things I’m afraid I’ll get shipped off to a military school or something religious.”

“I know Veronica pretty well,” The doctor points out. “I don’t think she’d ever put her child through anything like that. How long have you been taking the drugs, and what exactly are you taking?”

My lip quirks, “A GNRH Hyperagonist by subcutaneous injection to suppress my puberty and Testosterone output and then supplemental Estrogen and Progesterone by pill to kickstart the puberty I was meant to have. I performed my research and I sourced everything from reliable places.”

Harris shakes his head and smiles slightly. “Like mother like daugh… wait, is it ok to say that?”

I smile, “Yeah, it is, and that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Harris smiles at me and I feel a little safer with him. “I don’t agree with the process but I can appreciate the why, Alex. If you insisted on proceeding, ordinarily I’d offer a bridging prescription and send you to an expert but I can’t prescribe you anything without it going on your insurance. That means your parents would find out. I can however randomly and without any explicable reason perform general blood panels once in a while to make sure you are a healthy growing teenager without any broader issues.”

I know what he’s suggesting and I’m glad for it. “I understand Doctor.”

Harris picks up his name badge and fastens it to his shirt again before giving me a pointed look. “Now, I think more than ever I need to perform that physical. Although I think I need to get a nurse to chaperone it, don’t I Miss Winters?”

God, that feels so unbelievably good to hear.

A few moments later I’m sitting behind a curtain on the exam table in Doctor Harris’s office. I’m wearing a gown that was provided before he left to go find and explain my situation to a nurse. Other than this thin paper garment, I am as naked as the day I was born. The idea of being nude in front of others has always bothered me; mostly because it was wrong, and also because I never liked my body. Now, I’m actually more nervous for two polar opposite reasons. That a man will see my breasts, and that a woman will see… well, the rest of me, and know I’m a cheap imitation.

I hear the door open beyond the curtain.

“Are you ready in there Alex?”

“As much as I ever will be,” I reply, my heart rate soaring to apocalyptic levels.

Harris and one of the practice nurses enter and she gives me a little smile. It’s a comforting smile, one intended to make me feel better as if she knows how terrified I am of this moment.

“I’m going to take some blood for Doctor Harris once we’re done here, ok sweetie?”

I nod, “Sure, not too bothered by needles, just nudity.”

Harris chuckles. “I think we all are, let’s get this over nice and quickly shall we? I don’t want to prolong this for you. Pop that off and stand up for me please.”

I nod and stand. I reach behind my back for the velcro closure and release it. For a moment, I hold the gown to my chest like a towel before swallowing and slowly removing it fully and placing it on the table. Doctor Harris looks surprised but suppresses it quickly. The nurse, her expression is unreadable but her eyes appear sad. I don’t know what that means.

Future Holly here; I’m going to be extremely clinical in this next paragraph because I don’t like remembering moments like these. To me, they remind me of the shame I felt during this time, the denial, the fear, and the disgust with my own body. My younger self hated this, it took her a long time to get past feeling wrong.

Doctor Harris examined the Sixteen-year-old patient who was assigned male at birth. The patient displayed strong female secondary sexual characteristics within general medians of female adolescent development. Measurements of the adolescent patient’s hips, shoulders, and height were taken. Skeletally, they were found to be within developmental medians for her age. The patient’s breasts were small but within Tanner stage four development which placed her slightly behind her expected median. The patient’s male genitalia were found to be underdeveloped, likely in part due to the use of GnRH Hyperagonists and supplemental Estrogen therapy. The patient was One hundred and nineteen pounds in weight and five foot six inches in height.

“You can get dressed Alex, then Nurse Campbell will take your blood ok?”

I slid my clothes back on quickly and gave myself a moment to get settled. I knew what had just happened was necessary, but I also hated every damn second of it. Moments like this proved just how weird and wrong I was, it wasn’t particularly enjoyable. “I’m dressed,” I mumble.

The curtain twitched and Nuse Campbell stepped inside with a tray for drawing blood. “You ok honey?”

I nod and look a the floor.

“For what it’s worth sweetheart, you’re very brave.”

I rolled up the sleeve of my sweater and presented my arm for vampirism. “It doesn't feel that way.”

“I’m sure things will get better honey, it won’t be this way forever.”

I smiled my thanks and lack of desire for a heartwarming discussion and allowed her to finish her work and depart.

“Well Alex,” Harris announced. “Pending bloodwork, you’re healthy. Officially I cannot condone this pathway, but if you are insistent I will provide periodic bloodwork to ensure your safety. From my examination, you appear healthy and normal for a growing girl, but I’m concerned about your male presentation. Do you expect to be able to maintain this for particularly long?”

“So, I might have been given my advice and anecdotes on how fast this stuff works by older patients,” I admit. My age might well be a factor there.”

“No shit,” Harris agreed with uncharacteristic bluntness. “Your desire to remain in secret and also follow this path will be difficult to reconcile. At your current rate, I’d expect you’ll need to confront this before the new year at the latest. Your chest is developing extremely quickly and you don’t exactly look much like a boy, Alex.”

“Ordinarily I’d be ecstatic,” I grin sarcastically. “You won’t tell my mother, right?”

Harris frowns, “Against my better judgment, I will not. That is your decision as my patient. My advice is to tell her, Alex. Veronica is a good woman and an excellent doctor. I full well know she supports people like you. I doubt she’d reject her own daughter.”

My heart does a happy little flip at the word daughter. It’s the second time I’ve heard it today and It’s more powerful than you can imagine.

“I’ll consider it,” I concede. “I don’t expect my timetable of college will hold much water.”

Harris stands and opens his office door for me. “If you can still present successfully as a male by the time you reach college, I’m a veterinarian.”

Back in the waiting room, Mom was surprisingly still reading her magazine. I had honestly expected her to be talking shop with any number of the staff she knew here.

“According to Doctor Harris, I’m not dead,” I offer as I arrive before her.

“I could have told you that,” she replied with a parental roll of the eyes. “Let’s get you off to school so I can get into work. I have a bypass this afternoon to prep for.”

“Never let it be said that my health came before the needs of the Cardiologically infirm.”

Mom walked past me and clipped me on the back of the head as she passed in a way that never actually hurt but showed me that she loved me despite my mouth. “School, gobby one.”

 

 

Getting to school late after an appointment had to be one of the highlights for a kid. You had empty corridors and a hall pass to be late. Honestly, you got to feel a little special. The reality loses a little glitz when you collect your missed homework from the receptionist when you sign in, however. My third class of the morning was German and I made it just in time for the bell, despite Doctor Harris’ best designs.

Class was a fitting distraction after my morning of medical merriment. Truth be told, I felt both relief and concern having shared the truth with Doctor Harris. A problem shared is a problem halved right? I’d ordinarily agree with you, except Harris affirmed something I had started to fear; that I won’t make it much longer in boymode.

Something else that has me quite perplexed is that my mother has yet to press me for details on my appointment; suspicious Mater, suspicious. She’s the one that had worries about my health and development. That she isn’t interested in finding out what we talked about, even casually makes me wonder if that was why she sent me at all.

Thankfully I have little time to focus on any of it at the moment because school waits for no woman. I’m back in class with a very rude awakening; German. If anyone ever asks you about the Dative tense in the German language, run away screaming. German grammar is some of the most irritatingly complex in the world.
What improved today’s lesson however was news of our upcoming field trip to the Fatherland itself. Yes, private school, international field trips, suck it losers.

“Right, I’ll need your consent forms by Friday at the latest and your passports sorted no later than November First.” Frau Whistler declared loudly, leaning on her desk at the front of the room. “We will fly out on December first and spend six days in Germany before flying home the following weekend. Full itinerary will be emailed to your parents.”

The bell rang, signifying the end of class and the mass migration towards lunch. I was still pondering how my overly complicated life would work with international travel when Paul appeared beside me. “Excited for the trip?”

“Uh, I guess,” I admit, dodging a large idiot shoving his way down the corridor. “I might need to update my passport.”

“How out of date is it?” he asks suspiciously.

“I was ten,” I admit with a sheepish grin.

“TSA will have a field day with you, although I’m pretty sure the only thing that changed since then is your hair,” he smirks.

“I grew taller, I reply defensively. “I was like five feet tall then at most.”

Paul pauses as we arrive at the door to the dining hall and gives me a deeply condescending look. “Sure you did Rapunzell, sure you did.”

I’d totally kick him in the shin if he wasn’t already a cripple.

“Got here in the end huh?” Rick grins as I sit a the table.

“Doctor.” I offer with an eye roll. I’m not letting on the why, not to him.

“Are you having your period early?” Brandon sneers vindictively. “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

I bite my tongue and ignore him. His sole goal this year appears to be bothering me and I don’t want to play his little game. Well, the joke’s on him this time; I want a period so the joke doesn’t hurt me for the reason he thinks it does. Sadly, it hurts because I want one!

He does appear to be in particularly rare form today, much to my irritation. He proceeds to make cracks against me at every opportunity he can. I know at least I have an ally in Rick now, so anything Darth Dipshit manages won’t ever be more than just names. The funniest part is that his entire show isn’t designed to upset me, it's actually designed to play towards the rest of the table. Brandon’s entire routine is for their benefit, as though he needs to prove how superior he is to a bunch of younger boys. I’m pretty sure psychiatrists could make several determinations from that.

Lunch was eaten and I kept my head down. To tell the truth, I was still quite focused on my conversations with Doctor Harris. I was both relieved and scared about what had happened that morning. A professional knew about me and seemingly accepted me. I was on the first step of the path. More importantly, I had bloodwork, which made me feel a lot better about self-medicating my hormone regime.

Present Day Holly: The whole subject of self-medicating hormone therapy is one thing I would like to address if I may, dear reader. I know that by writing this account of my journey, I sound like a proponent of taking matters into my own hands. The reality couldn’t be further from the truth; as a teen, and especially now as an adult and a medical professional, I cannot stress how dangerous this is. At the time of starting, I was a scared and suicidal teenager who had run out of options. What I did was not a whim or done without copious research and care. It was however still monumentally dangerous. I’d be a hypocrite to say never do it, but I would suggest it be a last choice.

Now that my public service announcement is over we can get back to the story… wherever you were… oh yes, young me had just had her first major coming out moment.

Where was I? Oh yes, after lunch I did something I never thought I’d do. I was chatting to Rick about some game as we left the dining hall and inadvertently followed him all the way over to the Jock’s area of the common room. I sat down and continued the conversation before I realized other members of the team had arrived and joined us.

“I should probably go,” I admit a little sheepishly, realizing just where I was and how far it was from my own social strata.

“Ah fuck it, it’s not a law or something,” he shrugs. “Anyway, we like you more than Face.”

“Huh?” the linebacker blurted, hearing his name.

“Nothing dude,” Rick grinned, smirking at me. “Go back to your cartoons.”

“So what’s the thing with that level anyway?” Marco, one of the wirey Running Backs asked. “I keep getting stuck on the bridge jump.”

I sucked my teeth and shook my head sadly. “I can’t tell you all the secrets, but it does involve a power-up.”

“What is the faggot doing here?” Brandon declares loudly, drawing our attention to his arrival. “He’s not on the team, he should be with the other losers”

“We like him,” RJ shrugged at the Offensive Lineman, “and he’s not a douche.”

Brandon blusters and storms off towards the doors without another word.

“Fuck that guy,” Rick mutters. “I don’t even know why coach lets him play.”

“Because of daddy’s donations,” Carson Orlinski the Quarterback offers. “Bro thinks he’s god because his pops throws money at this place. I hate asshats like him.”

Watching these guys making fun of Brandon is quite fulfilling in a surreal way. That I’m not the target of the popular kid's ire is a surreal experience for me. It’s still not quite as strange as being privy to their distaste of one of their supposed own is, however.

I’ve never liked Brandon Michaels, and it had nothing to do with his father’s wealth. He’s a snobbish bully who looks down on others and treats people like they owe him one. I might be heterosexual and he might be conventionally attractive as far as boys go, but it’s as clear as day that he has an ugly spirit. Do not want, no ma’am!

Do I have a type? I suppose it’s entirely possible that I do. My perspective is clouded by my proximity to boys, but there are certainly features and facets to the male of the species that draw my attention. Muscles, facial hair, strong jaws; something about masculine strength really draws me in. It’s ironic that I’m doing my best to run away from masculinity while at the same time, my body finds it so alluring.

“Alex, do you have brain damage?”

“Huh?”

My mind focuses and I finally notice my brother, Rob, “What?”

He looks at me like I’m insane. “You were just staring at the wall with a weird smile on your face you fucking psycho.”

Oh damn, I think I was enjoying that thought far too much.

“Nothing,” I grin. “Just thinking about something.”

He shakes his head and goes to head slap me but I duck like a ninja. You have to remember I have sixteen years of practice of being the youngest child. My avoidance gets me a rude hand gesture in response and he receives one petulant stuck-out tongue; a fair trade in my book.

“Brothers are so annoying sometimes, you want one?” I ask Rick as sibling two wanders off to continue his discussion with his buds.

Rick seems to ponder the question for a moment. “I dunno, I find horses are far easier to deal with than people. An older sister was enough for me.”

“Siblings have yet to dunk me in creeks.”

Rick smiles and he chuckles softly as he remembers. “I said I find horses easier to deal with, not that you did. Anyway wasn’t that your fault?”

 

 

Once again after the conclusion of school, I went home with Meg and Kara. I’m pretty sure Gary is convinced I'm sleeping with one or both of his sisters, but he’s giving us a wide berth so I’m fine with that state of affairs.

We’re up in Kara’s room listening to music and finishing our homework. We’ve been chatting about anything and everything and it has become one of the parts of the day I look forward to the most now. When I’m with them, I feel all girl; things just feel right. We chat, we gossip and we share our concerns and feelings with each other. I’m learning so much about the girl world from them, and conversely, I’m coming to realize just how right it is for me there.

When you’re trans, it’s only natural to have some doubt. People will say they never had any, that they knew from age four with absolute certainty; 100% female, male, rocking chair, doesn’t matter. They have zero doubt. Why? Clout.

Trans people like many others love to outdo each other. It’s the gender equivalent of ‘Keeping Up With The Joneses’. They transitioned sooner, they knew they were trans sooner. It’s even found in who’s more conventionally attractive or got bigger boobs faster. Admittedly cis girls do the last two just as often. Even ‘my trauma is more traumatic than your trauma’ is a points competition.

Where was I? Oh, yes; doubt. It’s natural to have some doubt, in fact, it’s human and reasonable. It doesn’t mean you are undecided or uncertain about a given subject. Just that your brain wanted to run a few ‘what if’ scenarios to make sure it was comfortable. Typically it all comes up aces and for me, I was already more than convinced I was female and wanted to spend the rest of my days that way.

In this case, it was that girl time with Meg and Kara that convinced me beyond any reasonable doubt that I belonged on this side of the fence. These were my girls; my ride-or-die best friends. I didn’t need to ask to know they felt the same way about me. There were no secrets anymore between us.

“I think I have a problem,” I admit, closing my textbook.

“Yup, you certainly have a problem,” Meg agrees. “Boy takes you out riding with him and comes to your rescue when you go full damsel? If he doesn’t know you’re really a girl, he’s probably getting really confused right about now.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” I cringe. “I’ve started noticing little things about him that I like and I caught myself thinking about his muscles today after lunch. I nearly drooled on the poor guy. I’m trying not to crush, I really am.”

“How do you think he feels?” Kara asks while she cleans the polish off my toes that she had been testing.

I shrug, “It’s hard to tell, but I’m pretty convinced he’s confused. Every now and then I catch him watching me, or giving me these weird looks that he snaps out of a few moments later. I’m worried that I’m letting him see too much of Holly, and that’s confusing him.”

“I specifically recall saying that you would give that boy an identity crisis,” Megan reminds me, “those exact words.”

“Yeah yeah,” I groan, burying my face in a pillow. “I’m terrible at this, ok?”

“Maybe you can have a joint wedding when Meg finally snags Rob eh?” Kara giggles, artfully dodging the plushie-shaped missile that her sister had unleashed.

Oh god, weddings. Images of me as a bride in a beautiful white dress. Rick in a tuxedo looking so freaking handsome that I might die. I can see it now, out on the pasture in front of the ranch house with a white archway, flowers, and soft classical music. My dress blowing in the breeze as I walk up the Isle so slowly… after the wedding, a first dance, a hotel room…

I snap back to reality as I feel a poke in my ribs and come face to face with a grinning Megan.

“Is that the look you had when you drooled on him?”

“Screw you.”

 

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

 

 

I staggered down to the Kitchen that Friday morning in a total heap. For whatever reason I have struggled to sleep this week. No, before you say it, it was not because of big sexy dreams about a particular Rancher’s son who played wide receiver for the Elsworth Lions.

Modern Day Holly: Yeah, writing this I can see how you might see Rick as a huge fat stereotype of the love interest. The Football playing, popular, corn-fed all-American boy who is the masculine yet sensitive son of a rancher. It's an utter bodice ripper prime trope is it not? The problem is, I assure you he is unfortunately very real. More on that later.

“You look exhausted,” Mother opines as she sips her coffee. “Are you sure you’re ok to go to school?”

“Uhuh,” I complain, dumping my bag on the table next to me. “Just a rough night again.”

I catch a maternal hand on the forehead as she places toast and coffee in front of me. “You’re not running a fever, any other symptoms?”

“Just tired, not sure why.”

“Well if you can’t think of a valid excuse, I’ll be packing you off to school… what’s this?” she asks, pulling the half-exposed form for German class from my bag.

“Uh field trip for German class.”

“And I’m guessing it’s not to the local Christmas Market, right?”

“Uh, the actual ones in Germany, week, the start of December.”

A delicate eyebrow is raised. “When were you going to tell me about this? It’s due to be handed in today?”

“Oh, I forgot.”

I didn’t forget, I left it this late by accident. You might say it’s ‘just too late’ to get signed off on. I knew she’d want to talk to Dad and he’s away for a few days on business. I guess she won’t have time now, it's such a shame!

Frankly, I’d love to go, but I fear my ‘personal’ issues with Immigration and TSA might be problematic.

She reads the form and frowns. “Talk about last minute, Alex. I’d normally want to speak to your Dad about this first but I’m sure he’d be ok with it. I’ll get the forms for your passport when I’m in town later.”

Shit.

“You’re sure Dad will be ok with this?” I ask skeptically. “I know I left it so late, it’s my fault I can’t go.”

I get another eyebrow. “We spend twice this on Rob’s football needs in a school year. You never ask us for anything and you don’t play any sports so I don’t see why not. You do want to go, don’t you?”

“Well, yes, it would be quite exciting,” I admit. “I’ve never been to Germany and it would make my classes way more relevant.”

“Then you shall go to the ball Cinders,” Mom declares as she signs the damn form. I think my private little yay at being called Cinderella is overshadowed by the worry about flying like this. Why do I manage to hop from frying pan to fire so regularly?

Traveling to school with Mom is quite a different experience from driving with Dad. When I’m driving, she doesn’t criticize me for the little things like he does. It’s not that she’s not observant or I’m a bad driver, rather, that Dad can be a bit nitpicky at my style. I’m maybe a little more cautious on the road than he’d like, but I value protecting my car over driving like I own the road.

“You should invite that friend of yours over some time,” Mom offers as I pilot her Mercedes C class through the morning traffic.

“Hmm? Who?” At that moment I’m convinced she means Megan or Kara, but my list of friends isn’t that big.

“The one you went to see last week, Rya, no.…Rick?”

Uh oh. “I could,” I concede slowly. “I would feel quite inferior though; we don’t have a ranch and horses. I'm sure he’d be bored just playing games.”

“It’s just polite,” Mom continues. “Anyway you both play games and watch TV, you can go for a walk. There’s plenty to do. We don't exactly live in a slum.”

Do I want Rick anywhere near my house? I’m not sure I want to face that, given the circumstances. I suppose it would be better than his parents thinking I’m his girlfriend again...

“I’ll think about it, ok?”

She smiles. Mission accomplished; parent satisfied.

A few moments later we pull into the parking lot at school and both hop out before she settles into the driver’s seat. “I’ll see you tonight, alright darling?”

I give her a hug. “See you, Mom, I will.”

“Get me some passport photographs before you get home this afternoon, do you hear me? Do not dally around with this until it’s too late, Alex.”

I sigh. “Yes, mother.”

I’ve never been so sad that my mother said I could go on a foreign holiday.

When Gary, Meg, and Kara arrive at the common room fifteen, I’m sitting cross-legged on a sofa with a huge cup of coffee in my hands entirely untouched. Instead, I’m just staring at the wall across from me, inhaling the steam.

“Are you alive Alex?” Gary asks, giving me the strangest look. “You look almost comatose.”

I shake my head and focus on him. “Huh?”

“Are you ok?”

“Nosleeptired,” I mumble incoherently. “Wannagobackbed.”

Meg drops down beside me and starts leafing through her homework. “Thanks for the help on that physics last night, it made the difference.”

“Huh? What physics? Purple nail pol… OW, HEY.”

Without warning, Megan had elbowed me in the ribs like a convict shanking their favorite corrections officer. Somehow I’m barely able to maintain control of my coffee, although the little that does escape jolts me awake when it hits my thigh. “What was that for, bitch?” I complain rubbing my ribs.

“Whoops I slipped sorry! She grins theatrically. “Nothing wrong here eh? Just thanking you for the physics help, ALEX,” she repeats, emphasizing my name.

“Don’t call my sister a bitch you dumbass,” Gary scowls.

“She deserved it,” I glare back, giving her the slightest wink that he can’t see. The pain and the hot coffee snapped me awake enough that I realized I was about to casually let slip our nail polish adventures rather than our study cover. I need to get a serious grip on myself.

“Are you sure you’re not dating? You two are like an old married couple.” Gary stares at us both suspiciously. “Somethin' is weird here and I don’t like it.”

“What if I’m the one dating him?” Kara asks innocently from beside her brother.

Gary looks both suspicious and disgusted by the idea and I’m actually starting to have fun. “I’m dating them both Gary, I’m sorry to tell you this, but they arranged to take turns.”

“I preferred you miserable,” he scowls back at me crossing his arms. At least then you weren’t putting horrific images in my head.”

“Oh, Alex darling,” Megan coos as she leans over towards me. “If only he knew what we did in my room.”

Gary gags and I can’t help but laugh at the entire scene. Maybe this is what being happy feels like. It’s certainly better than feeling cut off from the world.

The bell rings and we head our separate ways to the salt mines of learning.

 

 

You all know how pep rallies work right? The entire school body gets ‘encouraged’ down to the sports hall and made to watch the band, the cheerleaders, and the football team perform their little social dance to encourage us to give a shit about high school sports. It’s a carefully managed little dance to engender us with ‘school spirit.” without really giving us a choice. God, I sound so cynical, don’t I?

The truth is, I would probably have some school spirit without it being forced on me. After all, I had Rob to cheer for and as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I was cheering for my friend Rick. Yes, just a friend, nothing more.

I can see you judging me, sod off.

The rallies always took the same format for us; the whole school piles inside and takes up the bleachers in what usually hosts our Basketball and netball games. The band plays from their area, the cheerleaders do some routines and skits and the team is introduced. Us being a swanky private school, there’s none of this name on a T-shirt business. No, the team wears dark slacks and red blazers with the team crest on the breast pocket. It’s very pro team at a major event and honestly a lot classier looking.

Carson the Quarterback gives a speech and the principal espouses the team’s successes to date. This week, we’re up against Southerton High; a local school with a pretty decent reputation, this should be arguably a tougher game than our first couple. Once everyone wraps up their speeches, skits, and various announcements, it’s time for a parade through the school grounds led by the band.

I spotted Meg and Kara hanging with a group of girls as we filed out to join the procession. They seemed happy; chatting and giggling away to each other. God, I long to be part of a group like that. To be able to chat and laugh with my girlfriends at school would be absolute eutopia. Kara spots me from across the crowd and gives me a little hand wave. I think she saw and wished the same thing too.

We go through the theatrics before we’re dispatched back to our afternoon of learning. For me, that’s Algebra and Chemistry with a rather relaxing double period of art to end the day. Art is one of the classes I truly love. Sure I was really into my sciences and knew what I wanted to do with my life, but art was something I truly enjoyed for the simple pleasure of creating something. It gave me an outlet; a way of expressing myself and honestly, I wasn’t exactly terrible at it.

I let my brush stroke lightly across the canvas as I put the finishing touches to a piece I had been working on since the start of the semester. It was a rather stylistic painting inspired by fantasy and comic book art that featured a sorceress wearing a long flowing robe. She was reaching out towards the viewer as she cast a spell, the light from the apparition playing off her skin and clothing as she channeled her passion into the act. I’d always envisaged it as an emotional moment and secretly, I saw myself in her pain and fury.

“The object source lighting here is excellent, Alex, I love the texture.”

I glance up at Mrs Canterbury, my art teacher standing just behind me. “Thanks, I wanted to really make it feel sharp and raw, kinda felt like being really smooth in my transitions didn’t tell that story. Does that make sense?”

She nods and points to the worn fabric of the robe. “I like the overall tone of the materials, nothing is too smooth, you choose to use texture in your brushwork to transition shades and it allows a far more elemental and vivid emotional response. This had better be for your portfolio?”

I glance back at the painting and nod. “Yeah, I think it is a keeper.”

“There’s a lot more emotion in your work this semester Alex,” Mrs Cantebury continues, still taking in my painting thoughtfully. “Prior works were accurate; you had good technique but it was very by the book. What I’m seeing now is a lot more expression and feeling. Not sure what you’re doing, but keep it up.”

‘Oh I’m just on large quantities of female hormones and it’s pushing my body through the correct puberty. I can finally open my eyes and feel like I’m the person I’m meant to be and I don’t want to play self forever sleep roulette.’ I don’t say…

“Thanks, I think I’m just in a better place at the moment.”

She smiles at me and continues on to the next student. Am I happier? Objectively yes. This year isn’t going the way I had planned but it’s not the worst problem to have in my situation. I might complain, but being ‘too’ girly has never exactly been a downside for me. Might it cause some problems? Yes, but not ones I can’t resolve. At the end of the day I’m positive that the source of my expression is the fact that I’m doing something about my biggest problem; being Holly Winters.

 

 

“Come on Rob! Smash him!”

“You are so into my brother,” I giggle over at Megan as I stuff more nachos in my mouth. “You want me to put a word in for you?”

“Don’t you dare Holly!” she gasps slapping my arm, a look of panic on her face. “Don’t you dare say a word to him!”

We’re sat a little bit away from most of the supporters. For mid-season games, we tend to have a bit of room to spread out before the playoffs. I’m rather glad of that fact at the moment as both of them are unapologetically calling me Holly. I’m also not acting like much of an Alex either; fuck it, who cares.

I decided to risk things a little bit tonight and I probably shouldn’t have in hindsight. I’m wearing the jeans that Rick’s mom gave me after the Creek incident. They’re not super tight but they fit me well; they could I guess pass for tighter boys' jeans if you didn’t look too closely. Most importantly, I know they’re girls’ jeans and it makes me feel better. With a baggy oversized sweater and my Rans sneakers, I feel like I can pretend I’m just another casually dressed down high school girl out here hanging with her besties at the game.

The game is in its third quarter and it’s been a bit of a nail-biter so far. We’re down twenty-six to twenty-nine and the Southerton guys are proving to be a rather tough challenge for our guys. Rob’s been battered black and blue and the rest of the team doesn’t look any better.

There’s a stoppage, and the coach pulls the right wide receiver and two other members of the offensive line off to replace them with substitutes.

“Hey look! They’re playing Rick!” I point out excitedly as I see the twenty-four jog out onto the field with the new players.

“She doesn’t like him,” Kara tells her sister theatrically. “Nope, not interested at all.”

“Shut up,” I growl with as much menace as I can manage. Look, I’m allowed to root for my friends. I know how much this means to him, I can certainly relate to wanting to be seen for who you are rather than what others think. He’s a good player too; I’m glad he’s getting time on the… Fine, yes, now I see it too.

The play starts back up again and I can sort of make out what the coach was planning from up here. I’m no expert, but I can see them filtering their plays to the right-hand side of the O line and towards a rather fresh Rick’s position.

The play kicks off and the quarterback, Carson catches the ball. He sends it long towards Rick’s side of the field and I watch the bodies surge in his direction. Almost like magic, the offensive linemen surge and crash against the bulk of the Southerton guys and Rick intercepts the pass.

I fight the urge to yell and scream as he runs the ball forward. The team is screening where they can but soon he’s clear of our guys and only has three of the defense left to handle. He dodges the first one, then a second player but as he reaches the line, the final opponent grabs him, and the two swing around. He looks like he’s about to stumble but he manages to keep his feet and he breaks free. Right as he’s about to be jumped by four guys, he manages to turn and lunge across into the endzone; Touchdown!

“Yes! Go Taylor!” I yell, jumping to my feet like the rest of the crowd. God, my heart is racing. I almost felt like I was down there with him.

“Aren’t you still meant to be pretending to be a boy?” Megan asks as the celebration dies down and we return to our seats.

“Yeah, I am. I have to,” I reply confused by her statement.

“Then why are you bouncing around screaming your ass off and making moon eyes at certain football players?”

“Am not,” I huff, crossing my arms and staring away pointedly NOT at Rick or any of our players. “It’s just school spirit.”

“Girl, you’re an awful liar.”

Kara steps into my defense. “Leave her alone Meg, she needs to let her chick flag fly sometimes, we just gotta make sure nobody else notices.”

“I’m not being that girly,” I complain.

Both sisters give me this look that translates to ‘Are you sure about that?’ and I sag. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Nobody’s noticed anything, they’re all more focused on the game.” Megan shrugs. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But I have to,” I sigh, the fun gone from the moment. “If I let myself slip at the wrong time I’m in serious trouble.”

“You’ve got to admit at some point that you like him,” Kara needles gently. “It’s ok, you know?”

I fidget awkwardly. “I have no problem admitting that I like boys,” I concede, refusing to look at them. “Just that one in particular.”

“Why? Liking him doesn’t mean you have to do anything about that.”

“I don’t want to give him any signals or let myself slip and risk that someone will see me like that.”

Kara squeezes my arm comfortingly. “Fighting it won’t help either, it’s painfully obvious that you’re into him, honey.”

I sag and simply nod. “Ok fine, I really like him ok? Being his friend is so difficult because it means that I get to see firsthand what a wonderful guy he truly is; he’s kind, sensitive, and gentle. He’s perfect and I cannot possibly have him, or any boy right now. Window shopping might be ok, but it’s pretty awful when you can’t ever have the dress.”

“I get it,” Meg replies with a smile. “It won’t be forever though, ok Holly?”

We’re having this touching little moment and my guard is entirely entirely down. Factor in for a moment, that Megan has just said my real name. We are not paying attention and it lands us in hot water number forty-five of the story so far.

“Hey! I thought that was you guys,” a female voice calls out from just along the bleachers.

Now remember, I’m wearing form-fitting jeans with an oversized sweater and my hair is out of my collar. Look, it gets irritating tucked in there all the time. Not only that, but I’m pretty much the same size as both Megan and Kara, and we’re sitting close together in the way girlfriends tend to do. Nothing here is screaming boy, truth be told, it’s not even whispering it softly.

A girl appears beside us and plops down on the bench. She’s a little taller than me and she has rich dark hair that flows around her shoulders in gorgeous waves that compliment her caramel skin.

“Oh Hey Moni,” Meg smiles. “You here for Ricardo?”

The girl rolls her eyes, “Yeah, but coach has had him benched all game, total waste of his talent.”

“Yeah, he’s making some weird calls tonight.”

She nods and makes a little ‘what can you do’ gesture. “I came over to find out if you got Miss Walker’s problems done in AP Algebra or not? How far did you get?”

“Third page,” Meg sighs, “It’s doing my head in.”

“Barely got past two so far,” the girl grimaces before she notices me trying to blend into the nopeness and her expression brightens. “Oh, hey, sorry, rude of me, Monica Carlos. I think I‘ve seen you around school…?”

Gulp, she probably has seen me in passing or with the girls but probably can’t place why or where right now. This isn’t going to be ideal if she does.

“Oh, uh, maybe,” I fib, “ah, hello.”

“Meg said, Holly, right? You go to our school?” she looks down and sees the crest on my sweater and rolls her eyes. “Silly me, course you do.”

“I uh, um, Holly ah, yeah.” my mouth is dry and I’m stumbling over my words. “Uh, my brother plays.” I thumb towards the field.

“Neat,” she grins. “My boyfriend, he’s on the team too; Ricardo Sanchez.”

I recognize the guy and nod my acknowledgment. He was there with Rob and his friends at the mall, remember RJ? I’ve seen him around school, I think he’s one of the seniors. This is getting messy fast and I’m entirely out of my depth. My pea brain has pretty much factored that she thinks I’m a girl, but she’s trying to work out why she hasn’t seen me around. I’m pretty sure my only saving grace is my guess that she’s a senior like Ricardo.

“Uh, I’m a junior,” I squeak, “like Megan and Kara.”

“Ah,” she grins, “That explains why I don’t know you. I’m in AP Algebra with Megan so that’s how we know each other.”

I smile politely and feel untold relief when she turns her attention back to math problems and Megan. I chance a quick look at Kara who is trying to decide if she wants to giggle at my nerves or join me in sweating. This isn’t a situation I had wanted to get into and we had sat ourselves away from the others to allow a little freedom. We had hoped that people would be focusing their attention on the game, not their fellow spectators. The problem was a small but troubling pile of lies was forming.

Another girl now knew that my name was Holly and was under the impression I was a junior at the Girls’ Division and our social circles were problematically close. While not high, so a chance meeting wasn’t entirely impossible. It was only my fairly recent addition to that social circle that had prevented this meeting from being super weird already. After a few minutes of chatter, Monica returned to her friends with a little wave. Don’t get me wrong, she seemed like a nice enough girl, but I really didn’t need to risk more problems at the moment.

“That’s a potential problem,” Kara frowns. “Good job we don’t move in the same social circles as her that often.”

“Yeah,” I grimace, “but I might.”

The girls look confused so I explain the predicament. “Ever since Rob got me to come hang out with him I’ve started to actually know some of those guys. Now add in Rick entering the scene, I’ve actually hung out at least twice voluntarily with those guys. I expect she sometimes hangs out with him too.”

“Oooh.” Kara joins the grimace train. “That is a problem.”

A cheer goes up from the crowd distracting us as our guys kick a field goal to supplement the touchdown. The excitement gave me a little reprieve from my worries, but it’s yet another straw on the camel’s back, straws intent on breaking it. Just like the match, my grasp on my tricky situation is a lead, but it’s a slim one.

In the end, our guys won by that very same narrow margin, one point; 30-29 to the Lions. It’s not a stomping but it’s a win. One they had to work far too hard to achieve. I can sympathize with that right now.

I tuck my ponytail back inside my sweatshirt and adopt my Alex hunch as we make our way down from the bleachers at the final whistle. It’s not quite as chaotic an atmosphere as the first games of the season but it’s a win and the team are still celebrating. I’m a little more reluctant to get too close to people since my run-in with Monica so I hang back and let the girls take the lead as we try to find Rob in the crowd of people.

“Hey squirt,” he grins as we find him chatting to Carson and Face over by the tunnel. “You guys good?”

“Yeah,” I shrug. “You ok? Looked rough out there tonight.”

Rob shrugs and for a moment I see past the big brother facade to the boy. “Yeah they were a little heavy-handed but I’m good, thanks, Alex.”

“I didn’t want your ass getting demolished out there, you’re my ride remember.”

He grins and ruffles my hair irritatingly. Why do tall people do that to us short folk? It’s rude.

“We doing West’s?” Carson asks the group.

“Gotta take these losers home and I got more homework than I wanna think about,” my brother grimaces. “Gonna have to be a rain check for me, dude.”

“I’m always down,” Face grins.

“Pretty sure you don’t got a home to go to dude,” Rob laughs. “Catch you guys, gonna head now.”

With a wave and a clatter of cleats, he jogs away down the tunnel to goes to get himself changed out of his uniform. After a few minutes of idle conversation with the others, we make our excuses and head out towards the parking lot to wait for Rob.

“You didn’t go say hi to Rick,” Meg observes as we walk.

“Nope,” I agree. “I guess I must have missed him in all the excitement, so unfortunate that, eh?”

“So, certainly not avoiding him on purpose.” she opines, eying me slyly.

“Certainly not. That would be incredibly childish and irresponsible.”

“Oh, of course not, no; not something a mature young woman would ever consider doing to solve her emotional problems.”

I roll my eyes but smile at the same time. That’s actually the first time someone’s ever said young woman to me and it feels incredibly right.

“You realize you’re basically being Meg at age thirteen right?” Kara chips in. “She pulled this same shit and still does it.”

“That’s not your place to say!” her sibling retorts playfully.

It’s one of those things I love about the Byrne girls. They tease and they dig but I know they have each other’s backs when it matters. I really wish I had that kind of relationship with either of my siblings but both age and gender have played a big part in that whole mess. It’s one I wish might have been very different.

Chrissie, my older sister, and I were once very close as children but as she grew, having her little brother hanging around wasn’t seen as cool. I sadly got kicked to the sidelines, which hurt especially badly given that I was in reality, her little sister. The pains of being transgender never let up, do they?

Rob; well he’s been fantastic if I’m objective, and what teenager is? He went out of his way to protect me and to show me kindness and I loved him for it. We might not be the relationship he thought, but I value him a great deal. More than he could possibly know.

“Oh hey, guys!”

Oh shit.

“Ah, hi Monica,” I smile politely. “Not heading to West’s with everyone else then?

She makes a face and crosses her arms. “No, Ricardo didn’t want to go because he didn’t get to play.”

I give Megan a wide-eyed ‘DANGER” look and use my eyeballs to suggest we should get rid of her. Yes, it looked as stupid as it sounded.

“You riding with him?” Megan asks leaping onto the ‘get her out of here’ train. “I’m sure he wants to leave after such a crappy day on the bench eh?”

She seems like a lovely girl and is, by all accounts pretty smart, but she doesn’t pick up what is being put down at all.

“Wait, this is Rob Winter’s car, right?” she asks looking back at me, “You’re Rob Winter’s sister?”

Gah, fuck.

“Uh, yes she is, but I think she’s got to… wait, is Laura waving at you Monica? Over by Sally’s car, I wonder what she wants?” Kara nudges with zero subtlety to try to dislodge our pesky conversationalist.

“Hey girls, Alex,”

Triple stack fuck burger with double fucking cheese.

"Rob, hi!” Monica beams, “Great game tonight.”

“Thanks,” he grins puffing up a little. God you predictable male, brother mine.

“I was just talking to your sister and I was like wow, so crazy huh?”

“Chrissie?”

“No Holly, silly,” she beams doing that wobbly head grin thing some girls do.

Oh no, please no…

“I knew you had an older sister but not a younger one too.”

I’m frozen there, I have no idea what to do right now so I’m useless for my own defense. My world is collapsing and I can only stare blankly at the middle distance.

“Rob, don’t we have to go for that thing?” Meg calls out, moving swiftly to the car door. “You said you’d get us back for… you know?”

“Yes!” Kara grabs my arm and drags me towards the back door and waits for a dazed Rob to unlock the car before stuffing me unceremoniously inside. “Haha, great joke Monica, see you at school on Monday!” She calls piling in after me.

A few moments later, a very confused-looking brother climbs behind the wheel and turns to look at us.

“What was all that about?” He asks, eying us with suspicion. “Why were you rushing me out of there and what the hell was Monica Carlos on about sisters?”

Thankfully Kara is on her game. “She was picking on Alex, calling him a girl, the sister quip was just her being a dick.” she rolls her eyes theatrically. “We just wanted to get out of there Rob.”

“Seriously?” he growls, his expression turning dark. “Fucking assholes are not going to do that in front of me. I’m going to give that bitch a piece of my fucking mind.” In a heartbeat, the door is open and he’s starting to step out of the car when I give up.

“Rob, wait!”

“One of you tell me the truth right now or I’m going to tear some chick apart,” he orders. His tone is not exactly encouraging but I don’t really have a choice anymore. Shit.

“Rob, it’s… Rob I uh… She didn’t do anything wrong.”

Kara interjects, “Rob, we’ll tell you everything but we’re not doing it in the parking lot at school. This isn’t the place for this conversation. We’ll tell you everything if we can go someplace a bit less public, ok?”

He looks like he wants to protest but he simply shrugs and slams the door. Without a word, he starts the car and pulls out of the lot and into traffic.

“What are you doing?” I whisper to Kara, “Aren’t we sticking to...?”

“With Monica's big mouth and him in the same social circles, this could explode in front of other people if you don’t do this now. This is your opportunity to get ahead of it. We could just explain earlier and move on, but this is a chance, ok?”

I stare out of the window and into the growing darkness as we drive away from school. My heart is in the pit of my stomach right now and I don’t want to confront this mess at all. I want to retreat back into my shell and hide because it’s easy. The status quo is safe, even if it hurts in the long run.

Rob pulls the car into a small park near home and shuts the engine off.

“Hey, Meg, go take Rob over to those benches, I need a word with Alex first,” Kara tells her sister. With a nod, Meg gets the message and takes Rob away before he can protest leaving just the two of us in the car.

“Take your sweater off,” Kara tells me. “Here,” she pulls her T-shirt over her head and hands it to me.

“What the hell are you doing? No, why?”

She looks at me, and it’s this motherly, kind, yet firm expression that I seriously hope I can master one day. It tells me ‘I know best, and you should be quiet and just do it.’

I shrug and pull my sweater over my head. Underneath, I’m wearing a looser shirt that I shrug off with it until we’re both sitting in the back of the car in our bras.

“Here, pop my shirt on, ok?” she offers handing me her far more fitted blue top.

I pull the top on feeling more than a little uncertain as to what her end goal is here. I trust Kara, absolutely. Whatever she thinks is right I’m willing to do.

After she shrugs on my baggy shirt, she pulls my hair out of the tie and finger combs it out until it's flowing around my shoulders. She nods approvingly and cracks open her handbag and sets to work on my face.

“Not that I don’t appreciate a makeover Kar, but why now?”

“Quiet,” she chides me as she outlines my left eye with a liner pencil. “If you’re going to be telling your brother, he needs to see the whole of you. He needs to see Holly at her best, not Alex at her worst.”

I can see her logic, but I’m so scared. I’m just glad someone else has a plan at the moment. Without the girls here I’d be a gibbering wreck of a girl. Kara finishes up with a few swipes of Mascara and traces my lips with a sweet-scented gloss. I can’t see myself at the moment, I’m sitting in the back of my brother’s Chevy in the park, but I can feel my hands shaking.

“Beautiful, Holly Winters, just beautiful.” Kara nods and smiles. “I’m going to go talk to him with Megan, when I call, you come and join us, ok?”

“What if this goes wrong? What if he tries to hurt me, or he yells and tells Mom and Dad?”

“Hush baby girl, he won’t, I know it,” she soothes. “He loves you, it's plain for anyone to see. Trust me on this, ok?”

I swallow and nod, and she gets out of the car and walks across to where the others are talking. Rob looks pretty miffed with both of the girls. I probably would be with this level of secrecy and subterfuge. Kara starts talking, and Rob seems to focus intently on her. The window is open and I can hear voices but can’t hear the exact words that they’re saying as the breeze carries them away.

I slouch down in my seat and try to quiet my violently beating heart. About forty feet away, my best friends are telling my brother that I’m really his sister; that the boy he grew up with is really a girl. I won’t lie, I’m freaking out inside my head, but I’m doing my best to keep my cool. I’m so glad that Meg and Kara are here and are doing this for me. I think on my own I’d have been a gibbering mess.

“Hey, Holly?” Megan calls softly as she approaches the car. Her words snap me out of my fog and I glance over.

“Is he mad?”

She sees what Kara did to me and smiles. “You look beautiful girl, and no, he’s not mad. Let's go see him huh?”

With a reluctant sigh, I slid out of the car and nervously adjusted my top. I feel so utterly exposed right now, everything I do to hide Holly has been stripped away, leaving her on full display. I’ve never actually been out in public as one hundred percent girl, add to that seeing my brother? Dear god, I’m shaking.

“Come on girl, don’t be afraid, ok?”

I look at Megan and grin sheepishly. “My heart is beating so hard right now.”

Megan reaches over and takes my hands in hers and smiles. It’s a simple thing but I feel so safe all of a sudden. Gathering all my strength, I keep hold of one of her hands and turn to face the two figures a little way off. Taking a deep breath, I stand up straight, there’s no point in hiding now. I walk across the grass from the parking lot to the picnic bench where Kara and Rob are standing talking, all the while fighting the urge to run away.

I get within about fifteen feet before I can make out the look on Rob’s face. He looks surprised, but it’s mixed with another expression I can’t quite read yet. I stop when I’m about five feet away and clasp my hands together in front of my body and wait for him to say something.

“Holly, right? Kara said that was the name you prefer?”

I swallow and nod, my voice comes out as a croak, “Please.”

“Is that really you?” he murmurs, staring at me. He shakes his head as though realizing how stupid the question sounds. “Of course it is, god… it’s not even that big a difference is it? Damn…”

“I’m sorry Rob; I didn’t want to ruin your night or life. I… it’s kinda complicated,” I sigh.

“Gender Dysphoria; Kara said. Like, you felt like you should have been born a girl like Chrissie.”

I raise my eyebrows. “I couldn’t carry on Rob. Every day moving through the world as Alex the boy just felt wrong. I… it isn’t who I am. I was hoping to make it to college before I told everyone. I didn’t want to risk getting thrown out or converted or upsetting you guys.”

Rob takes a step forward and I flinch away involuntarily, irrationally terrified of him. He looks nervous all of a sudden, as though he’s worried that he scared me.

I step forward and try my best to smile, but it comes out looking a little forced. “I love you, Rob, I just… I couldn’t take it anymore. This is who I am; Holly is the real me, not some act or some phase. This is who I really am inside. All I can ask is that I hope you don’t hate me.”

“I couldn’t hate you… Holly.” he smiles. “You’re my br…sister?

I smile, it feels good to hear him say those words.

“I’m not surprised,” he adds quietly. “Well, I am, but not at the same time. Somehow it all makes a strange sort of sense.”

Erk.

“What do you mean?”

“I think I’ve known that we were different for some time, I just didn’t really see it until you walked over here. We are related, but we’re not the same and we never have been. Don’t get me wrong, I know what you were born, I’ve seen your thing.” he chuckles darkly before cringing apologetically when he sees the twinge on my face.

“I mean, I think I’ve seen the girl sometimes, somewhere in there behind my little bro. I didn’t know what I was seeing. kinda like a guy who doesn’t know he needs glasses. The second he gets them though, it's so obvious, right?” He pauses and smiles slightly. “When I think back, I think I’ve seen my… little sister, showing through.” He says the words strangely, like he’s trying the word on for size. “Strangely it makes all the sense in the world.”

“You have?”

He nods. “Little moments, little gestures. There were times when I didn’t quite recognize you for a moment and I thought you were someone else. The mall the other weekend; when you were playing that game with Rick, the one with the basketball? For just a second, when you were laughing with him, it was like… I saw… a boy and a girl.” he gestures at me.

I really need to get a grip on my behavior; noted for the future. On the whole, though, this is going far better than I could have hoped; I’m still breathing and no straws are required.

“Is that a bad thing?” I ask slowly, testing the water.

He shakes his head and swallows, “I don’t think so.”

Shit, what are the chances?

“So… you want to be a girl, like, forever?”

I speak to him for the first time as myself, my real self. I look my brother in his eyes as his little sister and I nod assuredly. “I already am Rob, I just want everyone else to know it too.”

“I kinda figured,” he replies quietly. “It does seem to suit you, Holly”

Rob opens his arms and hesitates for a second. I see what he’s doing and I smile and step forward to accept the hug he’s offering. He wraps me in his arms and I hold on as tight as I can. It's been a long time since he’s done that and it feels incredible. I can’t control myself and tears fall from my eyes.

I don’t know how long we hold on to each other but by the time I step back and glance around, I realize Kara and Megan are back by the car giving us space.

“Where do we go from here?” Rob asks uncertainly.

“I have to keep this to myself, I can’t tell Mom and Dad yet. I don’t want to risk bad things happening Rob.”

“I’m sure they’d be fine Holly, how do you expect to hide… uh… all of this.” he gestures sheepishly at me.

I uh, don’t know,” I admit, “but even you didn’t see it till now.”

“I don’t know how I didn’t,” Rob admits. “Now I know, it’s so obvious that you’re a girl.” he freezes for a second then frowns. “How is it that you look… I mean, you… uh.”

Oh, tits question; this will be fun.

“Uh, when someone is trans, doctors block their birth hormones and put them on replacements that are bioidentical to the right kind they should have. I’ve ah… well, I found a way to get the medications that stop the wrong puberty and other ones that start the right one. ”

Rob sighs and shakes his head. “I should have known the kid of a doctor who plans to follow in her mom’s footsteps would find a medical solution to the problem.” he frowns suddenly, “Are you sure that it’s safe though? Is it permanent? Are you sure you want to go down this path forever?”

I reach out and take his hand and squeeze it. It’s a gesture I wouldn’t have dared to ever really share with him before. “Rob, I’m certain. When I first spotted the signs of puberty last year, I lost my mind. No offense, but the idea of my body becoming like yours horrified me to the point of dark thoughts. This is who I am, and it always will be. It’s who I’ve always been, I just had to hide.”

He thinks about what I said for a moment and then nods. “I had to ask Squirt.”

We turn and start walking back towards the car. “So, what does this mean going forward? Are you going to be hiding as Alex till you can’t anymore? What then?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. The Doctor knows, Meg and Kara, but I just… not yet, ok?”

He rolls his eyes and nudges my shoulder with a fist. “I guess the bro trip the other week wasn’t the best idea then huh?”

“I appreciate the gesture,” I offer. “It meant the world to me that you cared about me.”

“So, the thing tonight with Monica, she just assumed you were a chick because you were with those two? You do get yourself into some jams Spike.”

“Spike?”

Rob opens the car door and grins at me. “Yeah, I just thought of it now; Spike, like Holly bushes are spikey, real prickly. You’ll always know I mean Holly when I say that and nobody else will.”

Damn, unmelt my heart, please.

“That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said.” I beam.

“You guys good?” Kara asks as we both get into the car a few moments later.

Rob and I look at each other and smile. “Yeah,” I agree. “I don’t think I ever really considered it possible, but yes, we’re good.”

The ride home is a surreal experience for me. I’m here in a car with my best friends and my brother and everyone is treating me as Holly Winters. I almost can’t believe this, from the disaster panic of Monica Carlos and my terror at the idea of telling Rob, I never stopped to consider that my brother loved me more.

I swapped back to my own clothes and returned Kara’s shirt while we drove. I was sad to return to Boymode, or whatever actually counted as Boymode in my weird world. Letting Rob meet me as my authentic self had been incredible, but I knew it couldn’t last; I still had a persona to present at home. The makeup she had so carefully applied had been destroyed by my tears and so it had to be removed anyway. After we dropped them at their place and I gave each the biggest hug of their lives, we set off back to the house in relative quiet.

We pulled into the driveway and Rob shut off the car before turning to face me. “I’ll go along with your desires and keep tonight a secret, but I want you to promise me one thing, ok?”

“What?”

He fixes me with a serious look. “Don’t think I didn’t hear what you said about dark thoughts. You keep me in the loop going forward, ok Holly? This might all be new and it might be strange for me to adapt to but I’m going to try my best. I love you and you’re my blood, brother or sister. If that’s as my little sister Holly, I’m fine with that. I want you above ground and in my life, not miserable and dead, got it?”

I touch his arm and smile. “Rob, ever since I started doing something to correct nature’s mistake and set myself on the right path, those thoughts have been long gone. My life might be in two worlds right now, but It’s a life I want to live so very badly. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You looked so much like Mom tonight,” Rob murmurs quietly, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear that had escaped since I re-tied it. “I saw photographs of her as a kid and it was uncanny.”

“I guess that’s a good thing?”

“I worry for you at that school,” he replies, a look of concern on his features. “I was afraid for you before; you were never a fighter. Now though? Knowing what you are keeping hidden from them every day? Jesus Holly, I’m going to be freaking out.”

“Welcome to my world.” I chuckle darkly. “Welcome to the last sixteen years of my life.”

 

 

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

 

 

My phone’s ringtone woke me rather abruptly on Saturday morning. Isn’t it awful when you’re in the middle of a perfect dream, and then all of a sudden, the voice of the gorgeous dream boy you’re snuggled up with changes from a deep husky rumble into the shrill Nokia ringtone. It kinda puts the kybosh on any pleasant thoughts you had been imagining.

“Mmm, hello?”

“Man, you sound like you’re half dead,” a deep and familiar voice chuckles. It reminds me very much of my slumber-time mystery man.

“Wanna go back to sleep. Be quiet, was comfy.”

The voice chuckles and it sounds exactly like my dream guy. In my sleepy state, I am not particularly quick on the uptake. “Go back to sleep, wanna cuddle…. WHA”

I sit bolt-upright in the bed. “Rick? What?”

Rick laughs on the other end of the phone. “I’m pretty sure you just sleep answered the phone.”

“Uh, erm sorry,” I squeak, my cheeks turning crimson on the other end of the line. “Uh, what did you want?”

Rick laughs at my weirdness. “My Dad’s given me the day off so I’m spinning my heels here. I figured maybe you might want to go into town and do something? No horses this time, I promise.”

“I guess I could,” I concede tentatively. “Wouldn’t you rather hang out with the other team guys?”

“Nah, I had that crap yesterday. Plus I didn’t see you after the game so I figured we could catch up, huh?”

Do I want to spend more time with this guy? God, the idea scares me more than I want to admit. Deep down, behind my inhibitions, I know I want to say yes. Fuck it; “Sure Rick, when?”

“An hour? I’ll pick you up.”

“Uh, ok,” I answer a little surprised at the suddenness. My heart does that nervous, apprehensive squiggle thing. “I’ll see you then?”

Rick hangs up and I sit there staring at the phone for a moment trying to get my bearings. I know that on the surface, friends go and hang out with one another all the time. This, however, feels like an extremely dangerous decision given my now-accepted feelings for him. I know that academically I should avoid him like a case of Herpes and keep him at arm's length, but somehow, the idea of spending time with him is so intoxicatingly hard to avoid. The very fact that he thought of me first on his day off makes me unreasonably happy. Did he suggest that he missed spending time with me?

*Happy flutter*

I take care of my morning routine and make my way downstairs to grab the most important meal of the day; breakfast. In my case, girl or boy, this is a pop tart and a big mug of coffee. To this very day, it’s almost as important to me as a steady supply of Estrogen.

I’m idly flipping through a paper while I munch my sustenance when Rob wanders in like a zombie.

“Coffee’s in the pot,” I offer neutrally. I tentatively glance up at him; truth be told, I’m a little apprehensive as to how I’m supposed to act around him now.

He ruffles my hair on the way past, “thanks, Spike.”

“So we’re sticking with Spike are we?” I ask as he makes himself coffee.

“Yeah,” he answers after a second. “If you’re ok with it?”

I ponder what it means on a far grander scale. “It’s taking some getting used to, but I think I do.”

“You’re up early, you off somewhere?”

“Rick wanted to go hang today so… here I am.”

Rob sits down beside me and glances over as he sips his steaming brew. “I don’t know if I really approve of you hanging out with guys alone anymore… Holly.”

I fix him with a look, and for the first time, it’s a real sister look. “Rob, I appreciate the concern but I’m fine, honestly. As far as he’s concerned it's just two dudes hanging out, there is nothing more than that. To the rest of the world, I haven’t changed; still regular old Alex Winters.”

He smiles apologetically. “Sorry, I just… I already worried about you before, but now? Now I worry even more. Not just because you’re… god, I can’t unsee it.”

I’m sitting there in baggy cargo pants and a zip hoodie over a tight tee. My hair is tucked in the back of my hood and I look as grungy and boy as I can manage usually.

“I look the same as normal.” I point out shifting awkwardly in my seat.

“I guess I never realized just how ‘girl’ your normal is Holly.” he opines with a smirk. His expression suddenly changes to one of concern. “Wait, you and Rick aren’t…”

“NO!” I splutter. “No way, not a chance, what?”

Can you imagine what a human looks like when they turn bright red? That’s me right now. My attraction being fact notwithstanding, I am NOT having this discussion with my brother about one of his teammates; not happening.

“Relax” Rob laughs, “I’m just teasing you.”

Phew.

“Look, last night… I don’t know how I didn’t see it,” he admits. “Sitting here now, it’s just so obvious.”

“I’m trying not to be so obvious,” I complain as I finish my coffee. “That’s kinda the whole point. Plus Mom and Dad don’t think it’s so obvious.”

Rob smirks. “How do you think I feel realizing my pretty sister goes to the same school as me?”

I balk and stare at him. “I’m not pretty.”

“I’m afraid to leave you alone with any of the team guys going forward, yeah, you are, weird as that might feel for me to realize.”

Furious blush activated.

Thankfully there’s a knock at the door which Rob walks off to answer giving me a moment to calm my spicy nerves. The last thing I need to do is to give away that little chestnut of information. I can hear distant Broitudes, so I assume my ride and perpetual shadow has arrived.

Walking through, I find Rob and Rick chatting by the front door. Rick smiles when he spots me. “Hey Alex, you good?”

“Yeah, thanks for giving me a ride dude.” I offer, doing my best to bro it up for Rob. Anything to distract from whatever he might be thinking. A girl would never call a guy she’s into dude, would she? Nope!

“Catch you around man,” Rob grins, “Make sure this one doesn’t do anything dumb ok?”

I want to scold Rob for being overly protective but I bite my tongue and toss him a wave as I head out the door. “Cya later!”

“He seems a little weird today,” Rick asks as we hop into his truck. “You guys good?”

“We’re fine,” I shrug. “He’s just being my brother. He’s always been that way. So what’s your plan for today?” I ask changing topics quickly.

“I’m not sure,” Rick shrugs. “I figure we head into the city and wander a bit. Maybe check out some stores, lunch, then see how we feel?”

“Sounds fine to me, I did fancy stopping at the comic book store.”

“Man if people see me in there my cred is totally gone,” Rick chuckles.

I roll my eyes. “You’re hanging out with a dweeb, I’m pretty sure it’s gone already.”

“You’re not a dweeb,” he opines. “You’re funny, intelligent and you care about other people a lot more than you let on. Sure, you might be a massive geek, but we all got our vices.”

“Maybe you can cure yourself of the uncontrollable urge to hit other people for fun.”

“What’s wrong with football?”

“Nothing,” I shrug, “I don’t mind watching, but I just don’t see the attraction of playing it,” I admit.

Rick looks thoughtful for a moment. “I suppose for me, I’ve got this need to compete. It gives me an outlet for my competitive energy and aggression.”

As we drive, I watch him for a moment. I can appreciate why he plays but his reasons and his logic confound me; it proves how different we really are at a core level. We’ve got a lot in common but our root selves are so very different.

I’m not naive enough to believe that all men carry big caveman urges that they must express or explode. To assume every man is the same would cheapen the great variety that exists within them as a sex. In so much as I am a girl, Rick is a boy. His approach to how he rationalizes his feelings and his expression differs so intrinsically from my own and it feels so very alien.

Present Day Holly here; Excuse lil Holly’s flawed attempts at crayon psychology. She means well, but she still doesn’t really know the worlds of men and women yet. I could make some witty and hilarious remarks about peeing with the seat up or that testicles are just plain hilarious, but it wouldn’t serve the purpose.

My entire childhood was spent feeling alien from my assigned sex. Sure, that term upsets some people as much as Cis tends to put a twist in their knickers but both apply fairly well as descriptors of difference if not for everyday use.

For myself and many like me, childhood was confusing and frightening. It’s easy to slip into hating the sex you were assigned but the reality is, it’s not their fault. They’re different, but it's not better or worse; just different. For every wonderful woman and evil man, I’ve met equally as many awful women and wonderful men. Pick the man or the bear, but it’s all relative. Now back to the steamy non romance you filthy dogs.

 

 

“Ugh, I need to sit down,” I moan as I drop into the booth of a small pizza place we had chosen for lunch. “You walk too damn fast.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so short,” Rick chuckles as he slips into his seat across from me and grabs a menu. “And you did insist we check out those last four stores.”

“Not the point,” I counter, gesturing at him with a menu. “You dragged us a mile out of the way to look at football shoes.”

“Boots, and need new ones, what can I say?” he smiles smugly.

We had spent the morning wandering the city center, checking out shops, and talking about nothing in particular. It wasn’t particularly interesting to you ravenous readers hell-bent on gender adventures; we did boy shopping, and there were no spinny skirts in sight I’m afraid.

“Split one?” I ask, looking up from the menu that’s making my mouth water. “I’m good for whatever as long as it’s not got barbeque sauce on it.”
Rick wrinkles his nose. “That we can agree on… Hmm, sausage and bacon?”

I smile like the cat that got the cream. “A man after my own heart.”

A waitress comes over and smiles expectantly.

“Give us a large pie, sausage, and bacon, I’ll have a coke and…. Alex?”

“Same,” I shrug.

“Won’t be long y’all,” the waitress smiles as she departs.

“I’m glad we did this,” Rick offers. “I think I need some time away from my world; things have been super chaotic.”

“I know what you mean,” I agree wholeheartedly. “Every step these days feels like a minefield.”

“I can’t wait for Christmas,” Rick sighs. “Feel like I’m exhausted already only a month in.”

I know what he means, far more than he realizes. A month back at school feels like six years of hard labor in a Soviet Gulag. I’m growing increasingly positive that something will inevitably go horribly wrong.

“Here we go guys, your drinks,” The waitress announces returning. “Your coke sir, and yours, miss.”

Gerk

“Uh, thanks,” I blush.

Rick gives me a conciliatory smile “It’s just your hair and your size from her angle, Alex. She probably wasn’t even looking that close; don’t worry about it.”

Why is my stupid ass considering testing the water? Do I like piranha nibbled toes?

“It happens a lot,” I admit with a shrug. “I don’t mind so much anymore. It’s not like I’m ever going to look like you.”

These are all statements of fact, he just doesn't know why.

Rick just shrugs and makes a face. “Fuck 'em; you just keep being you. Who gives a crap what people think? Guy, girl, or apple pie; you’re pretty cool Alex. I’m glad we’re friends.”

I don’t quite know how to translate that, but I’m pretty sure it’s positive... Ish?

“Me too, I just feel like I don’t bring so much to the equation,” I chuckle sheepishly. “You have your truck, your amazing place, the social standing. You’re the popular sports guy. Me? I’m just the nerdy charity case you seem to want to tag along.”

“It’s not that,” Rick replies with surprising certainty. “I always thought you were pretty different. I always regretted that I just never really took the time to say hi and get to know you. We move in different circles but we’re not that different, not where it matters. We’re both gamers, we laugh at stupid stuff and we get on pretty well. Honestly? I’m just glad to have an honest friend; someone that I know likes me for me. I haven’t actually got a whole lot of those.”

“I don’t exactly have many myself.” I agree. “I guess I just feel like I’m mooching.”

“Don’t think that way. I like hanging with you Alex, you’re way cooler than you give yourself credit.”

The arrival of our pizza cuts off my chance at a solid reply and I decide to ditch it for the rest of our lunch. This just doesn’t feel like the time or place for any kind of heavy conversation about how useless I feel sometimes. Truth be told, I want him to say that he cares about me, that he sees the girl screaming and beating her fists on the glass silently crying out for him. I try to keep her quiet and it makes my heart heavy.

The pizza is good. It’s not one of these stupid Chicago monstrosities that is essentially a quiche gone wrong. No, this is a proper Italian pizza; wood-fired, fresh, and thin. The sauce is delicious and the cheese is just right. Look, I might be a girl, but I love a good pizza. In the end, I manage three slices and Rick inhales the rest; he’s a big boy and I’m pretty sure he’s just being polite.

I pay my half of the bill despite his insistence that it’s not a big deal. Sure, I’d love to let him pay and pretend that this was a date, but I cannot allow myself to get into that headspace. I know he’s just being kind, and it doesn’t mean what I imagine it does. The truth is that it feels a bit like it is one, and that confuses me. Part of me wonders if he’s even aware of how we interact with one another. Perhaps it’s perhaps subconscious? I make sure to pay so that we both know this is two friends hanging out, and nothing more. God, how the fuck am I going to manage this?

The comic book store is about halfway back towards the parking lot where we left Rick’s truck. Secretly, I’ve been relishing this moment all morning, because finally, I get to make Mr bigshot football star feel awkward and entirely out of his depth.

The bell rings as we enter the kingdom of Nerdia. You know the type of place this is; the interior looks like a nerd’s wet dream come to vivid and exotic life. The walls and shelves are stacked high with comics, art, and memorabilia from every imaginable comic or anime franchise. This place has been one of the happiest destinations in my childhood. Here, the characters showed me that being different wasn’t bad; here, being different was amazing.

“This is kinda nuts,” Rick admits looking around awestruck. “I kinda feel like a dumbass not coming in here sooner.”

I nod, proud of my people. “Here you’ll find everything from the freshest Manga out of Tokyo all the way to OG Darkman comics.”

“I’ll admit, I’ve dabbled in a little Steel Wonder, but not much else.”

“You seen SpaceConflict right?”

Rick nods, “the original ones and the two new movies, yeah.”

I lead him over to the appropriate area of the store and watch his eyes light up as he takes in the variety of goodies on display. Guys might pretend to be too cool for nerdy things but put them in front of trinkets and action figures and for some reason they turn into little boys.

I can tell he’s going to be a good while as he peruses the laser wizard delights, so I wander over to find the latest edition of Darkgirl. Hey, I might be trying to hide myself, but Brianna Grey is my girl. More importantly, nobody really worries about you reading female superheroes, they just call you a nerd!

After a little searching, I managed to locate the issue I was after and began leafing through some Toxic Vine back issues.

“Anything I can help you find?” a feminine voice asks, breaking me out of my perusal.

I glance over my shoulder and spot a freckle-faced girl with mousey brown hair grinning at me.

“Oh just looking at what else you have, I found what I was after though thanks,” I reply waving my copy of the latest Darkgirl.

“That’s a good one,” she smiles approvingly. “I love what they did with Grey in Year One.”

“I know,” I enthuse, “she’s so different to so many other female heroes. It’s got a lot more realism with them including her balancing being a vigilante and being in high school, you know?.”

“Is that guy you came in with your boyfriend?” She asks jerking her thumb in Rick’s direction. “Nice catch girl.”

“I uh… erm,” Initiate blush module. “He’s not my…”

“Oh, ‘just friends’ huh?” she grins literally not believing me. “Must be a really good friend if he’s willing to follow you here while you nerd out.”

“I mean he games…” I offer feebly. “We game and he’s into…”

“Oh yeah I can tell he is, he keeps glancing over the entire time you’re in here.” she chuckles. At this point, I’ve pretty much given up on trying to correct her on either assumption.

“Uh, thanks, well I guess we’re kinda working out where we fit.” I offer, hoping that agreeing will get her to drop the bone.

She smirks knowingly and taps the side of her nose as she wanders off to help a homeless-looking man in sweatpants and a lewd anime girl T-shirt.

“What was that about?” Rick asks, making me jump as he appears behind me. “You two seemed to be really getting into it. Going to ditch me for a nerdette?”

“Oh I’m not, I mean… Uh… she’s not my… we were just talking about comic books.”

Classy Holly, real fucking classy girl.

Rick looks almost relieved for a moment, but I could be imagining that. He holds up a couple of StarConflict figures and nods towards the register. “You good to go then?”

I nod and follow him over. Thankfully Nosey Nelly isn’t running the register, but the geeky guy behind it most certainly leers at me. Apparently, grungy tomboy is in this year for the shaved palm brigade.

After leaving Nerd-vana (Yes, that’s the name of the store), we made the decision to head back to the truck and get ourselves out of the city. I’ll admit, I was a little quiet as we walked, my mind choosing to overanalyze the day’s events. Between the waitress and the girl in the comic book store, I was beginning to seriously question if hanging around with this guy was sensible or safe, given how perception was leaning.

Naturally, the issue of attraction was a major problem; I really did like him. The problem today had revealed was that someone sooner or later was going to say something in front of him. At least twice I’d been overtly gendered as female to my face, how many more had just assumed it? The way Rick and I seemed to act, apparently told people we were a couple, was that intentional, or did people just assume boy + girl = romance?

Was that girl right? Was he glancing over at me? Had he invited me out today on some form of quasai undercover date? Was he secretly gay? Did he see me as a boy or a girl? Did he even realize? They were all fantastic questions that would have been answered had I not rapidly applied Newton’s third law.

*CLANG*

One minute I’m walking, the next, I eat lamp post just outside the parking lot.

“Jeez Alex, are you ok?”

I don’t think I passed out, but I was flat on my back seeing stars and little cartoon birds flittering around. “Ow,” I complain rubbing my forehead. “Who put that there?”

“I’m pretty sure it was there the whole time,” he grins offering me his hand.

A boy wouldn’t take his hand, but I take it. He lifts me to my feet so effortlessly that once vertical I stagger forward, a little off balance. It’s a natural reaction of course; as I stagger, Rick grabs hold of me to stop me from falling. For a brief moment, we’re facing each other, his hands on my waist and we’re just staring into each other’s eyes. It can’t have lasted more than a few seconds, but it felt like we stood there for an eternity. Yes, it is possible for two people to blush at the exact same moment.

“Uh, yeah, ah, thanks!” I grin sheepishly, ”I’ll watch where I’m going next time, stupid me!”

Rick looks as confused and embarrassed as I am. He mutters an apology and I avoid any form of eye contact, I don’t want him to think that I’d love him to do it again. God, how I wish he would do that again. Even now I can feel his hands on my body and it felt so right.

When Rick dropped me back at home, the air was still a little strange between us. We had both tried to play it off as nothing but there had absolutely been a moment between us. The truth was, that neither of us had been expecting it and it had clearly startled him. I think it told me that Rick was absolutely getting mixed signals from me. As nice a guy as he was, I vowed to give him some space and let things cool off. I hated doing it because I genuinely enjoyed being around him. God, why did life need to be so complicated?

Rob hadn’t noticed a thing when I got home, thankfully, so I avoided twenty questions. I know he meant well, but his ‘newly discovered brother to a little sister’ routine was already quite exhausting. Did I appreciate the heck out of the effort? Of course, I did.

Monday was going to be my first major challenge when it came to avoiding Rick and keeping an overprotective Rob at bay. Boys! Can’t live with them, really can’t find a valid excuse to bury them in the desert.

 

 

Avoiding Rick at school was far more difficult than I had imagined it possibly might be. I suppose that’s not particularly surprising when someone sits across from you at the dining table, is it? The library managed to provide me a worthy refuge from both him and my darling brother before school and during our morning break but lunch itself had been far more awkward.

I even went out of my way to make conversation with just about anyone else at the table who would tolerate me that day. At one point, I think I caught a hurt look in his eyes when I traded a barb with Bradon. I didn’t linger on it, even though it tugged at my heart to do so.

When we were dismissed, I saw him attempt to catch up to me but I managed to slip away in the press of bodies making for the exit. The library wouldn’t do…he’d know to look for me there, wouldn’t he? The real question was where to go so that a determined and quite confused boy wouldn’t come looking for me. I finally had a smart idea, it just didn’t pan out entirely the way I had hoped.

I slip into the classroom and close the door behind me. I managed to make it all the way to my German classroom without getting noticed. I’ve got this first period after lunch, so a quiet spot to read and a short commute? Seems perfect.

“Your lesson isn’t for another thirty minutes yet, Herr Winters.”

I jump out of my skin at the sound of my teacher’s voice. What manly thing do I do to maintain my cover as an average teen boy? I squeak and gasp; go me…

“I’m sorry Frau Whistler,” I gasp, trying to calm myself into something remotely masculine. “I thought the classroom would be empty about now.”

My German teacher eyes me suspiciously. “Nothing against you sitting quietly and studying, but wouldn’t you rather be outside having fun with your friends?” She shakes her head. “No, you’re avoiding someone; bullies or a falling out?”

“Do you teach German or Criminal Investigations?”

Whistler smirks at that. Outside of class, she’s always been one of the more relaxed teachers with us. She’s in her thirties, I think, and has curly brown hair that always seems to be up in a huge bun behind her head. Almost as though it’s one of the few ways she's found to restrain it. Her style is somewhere between coffee shop and Boho chic with lots of chunky knits and maxi skirts.

“You’re a decent student but nobody is this keen to get started on compound prepositions.”

I cringe at her reminder and she chuckles. “So which is it, no, I’ll guess… you’re avoiding a friend you had a falling out with; one that doesn’t have this class. I don’t see you hanging around with that many people so it’s either Paul Harding, unlikely. Gary Byrne, but not plausible as he shares this class, or who is that one?”

Uh oh.

“Herr Taylor doesn’t study Deutsch, I believe he’s in Mister Carver’s Spanish class; I’m going to put my money there.

Damn, she’s actually good. Time to go on the counter-offensive.

“You got me,” I admit. “What about you though? Surely you could be relaxing in the teacher’s lounge not worrying about us for another half hour?”

Frau Whistler rolls her eyes and smirks, rather uncharacteristic for an educator. “No pulling the wool over your eyes.” She admits. “I’m avoiding people too; Mister Alder from Economics is trying to sign us all up for a charity run and I would rather do literally anything else.”

Teachers are humans too. Who knew?

Not to be deterred, she redirects her attention back towards me again. I always liked Frau Whistler, she was always light, funny, and personal with us all. Not in a creepy weird got a Webflix docu-series twenty years later sort of way, but a genuinely good teacher way. It’s a shame she might have to die now.

“So why are you and Junge Herr Taylor at odds? Conflict enough to drive you into my clutches.”

“You don’t need to worry Frau, it’s just schoolyard nonsense.”

Frau Whistler raises an eyebrow. “Well, you managed to separate me from a rather good book so the therapist’s office is officially open.”

Do you really think I’m going to come clean and tell someone else? I’ve come out twice in the last seven days, I’m not looking to make it three. I settle into a desk and put my bag down while I formulate what to say. I can’t tell her the truth, so I need something equally plausible that might actually throw her off the scent. This one is annoyingly good so far. Sometimes sticking closer to the truth is actually easier.

“We’re not exactly a lot alike and we move in different social circles yet he started trying to befriend me this year. I figured he wanted something, or he was setting up for a long con to punk me or something. It turns out that he felt bad for me and it was all charity for the loser kid with no friends. Some misguided sense of duty to be nice because he used to be bullied in middle school.”

“Are you being bullied?”

I shrug, “No more than anyone else.”

Frau Whistler laughs. “The number should be zero Alex, but that’s beside the point. So you feel betrayed by his perceived friendship of charity? Might he not just recognize another lonely soul? Someone with whom he shares a great deal in common?”

“I guess,” I admit. “It just feels like people think I’m sad and lonely.”

“You were,” she points out, giving me a sympathetic look. “I don’t know what changed, but something significant has. Perhaps this friendship you seem hell-bent on rejecting is part of that, but you are much happier this year, Alex.”

Oh, it’s not because of that, lady… but deflect all the same.

”I don’t think I’m any different.” I hedge innocently.

“You might say that, but more than one teacher was worried about you last semester. A few have commented on you being far more socially active this year.”

Did they notice? Fuck, depression makes you sloppy. Does she have a point? Yes, unfortunately, my desire for a quiet and drama-free year has been utterly trashed by people wanting to hang out, be friends, and generally enjoy life. I can’t say it's all been terrible though.

“Not entirely wrong,” I admit reluctantly. “I guess I have been more involved.”

“It’s good to see and it suits you well enough,” she smiles, as she sorts through a pile of worksheets. “I think I saw you with the Byrne girls at the football game on Friday evening. From what I saw it looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

Fuck, quick, manly sportsball comments.

“Ah, yes, it was a tough game, they really had us with their offense.”

Frau Whistler raises an eyebrow and smirks and I feel a sudden sinking feeling. What did she see exactly? I shouldn’t have let my guard down like that, rookie move.

“I go to support Rob mostly.” I offer, hoping she’s not going to say anything, and Gary really isn’t into Football at all.”

She nods and smiles kindly. I can’t tell if she’s politely accepting my flimsy explanation or genuinely just being nice. My spidey sense tells me she knows more than she’s letting on; Le gulp.

“Friends are important, finding people you can really be yourself with does matter a great deal, Alex.”

Fuck.

 

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

 

 

Tuesday morning builds on Monday’s fine start to Operation; Avoid Rick and Weird Feelings. The title isn’t very snappy I know, I’m workshopping replacements. My morning begins with another session in the library before Homeroom. Isolation isn’t so unfamiliar to me, this used to be my life most mornings. I almost miss the common room, weird huh?

I make it through Math and Geography, and I only have one class remaining before I have to see him again at lunchtime. I’m pretty convinced he’s going to manage to talk to me this time, but what he’ll say, I don’t know. I have far too much on my mind between yesterday’s hints from Frau Whistler and Rick’s… situation. Why can’t my life be simple?

“Does anyone have the answer to this? What was so significant about Elizabeth Blackwell?” My History teacher, Mrs Benson asks, as she glances around the classroom. “This should be fresh in your memories as we covered it only last week.”

I tentatively raise my hand.

“Alexander.”

I HATE teachers who use our full names, it particularly bothers me for reasons you might appreciate.

“Elizabeth Blackwell was the first woman to get a medical degree in the United States in 1857, Ma’am. She founded the New York Infirmary for Women and Children with her sister Emily, and Marie Zakrzewska.”

Mrs Benson nods approvingly. “Absolutely correct! And it was this clinic that paved the way for female physicians in the United States going forward, your mother is a physician, isn’t she Alexander?”

I cringe a little but nod. “Yes Ma’am, Cardiologist at Mercy General.”

She’s very pleased with the response. I can thank my mother for my knowledge of Blackwell and her clinic actually. It’s a story she told me years ago and one I strive to follow in the footsteps of. Mom didn’t realize it, but she inspired me to be like them and her one day.

The bell goes on history twenty minutes later and we’re making our way to Lunch. I’m still working out how best to avoid a guy I sit across from at the table when a foot catches my ankle and I hit the deck hard.

“Fucking nerd faggot,” A voice chuckles darkly as its owner vanishes into the crowd of students. Nobody stops to help me up, they just briefly part as I struggle back to my feet. I could make a fuss, but it would never make a difference; this kind of stuff happens to people like me. The socially privileged think they have a right to abuse the rest of us for appearing to slight their intelligence, their feelings, or just plain fun. I’m pretty sure this one didn’t like the fact that answered a question and was praised for it.

I’m still nursing the bruise on my shin when I reach the dining room. Rick is already sitting there when I arrive and I catch sight of the look on his face; this time it’s most certainly one of hurt. I hate doing this but I have to for both of our sakes. He doesn’t need the confusion and I don’t need the hope I feel when I’m around him. Better for us to remain acquaintances that don’t get too close than to suffer any of what lies ahead.

As we sit down, I discover Lord Brandon is in fine fettle again today and he’s gunning for a reaction from me. If earlier examples from this year haven’t been enough of a clue, I have been designated his target of choice. Remember what I said about my big mouth? Sometimes it’s an asset and sometimes it gets me in more trouble than I’d like. Sometimes, it gets me out of trouble too, I’m quite smart. This isn’t one of those times.

“Nice of you to join us eventually Miss Winters,” he sneers as I drop into my spot beside him. Just for reference, the table head gets the only chair, everyone else occupies benches on both sides of the table.

“Brandon, no matter how much you call me a girl, I’m still not going out with you,” I reply deadpan. I just don’t have time for him today and my desire to fuck around has reached peak find out. The double bluff is an excellent strategy for the moron with a small brain and an even shorter temper. The only problem is, Alex isn’t driving right now. I’m tired and I’m frustrated and emotional. Holly is very much at the surface now and she’s not taking Brandon’s bullshit.

“What? I wouldn’t ever!” he splutters. “Are you admitting you’re gay finally?”

“I mean, you just called me a girl,” I point out with a shrug. I check my nails with disinterest before fixing him with an amused look. “So that would make me straight, wouldn’t it genius? Although faced with a guy like you, it would probably turn me into a lesbian.”

Darth Dipshit is now red in the face and getting angrier by the second. Here’s where the curveball in my plan enters the game and presents the home run hit. Little do I realize, I’m playing ball in a phone booth, and balls bounce.

“Brandon, That’s enough; knock it off now,” Rick interjects sternly. I think he realizes that I’m probably touching a nerve and about to set off Mount Dumbass. “You started this, now be a man and knock it off before we all end up in the shit when a teacher steps in.”

Brandon glares at him and then at every expectant face at the table. In his eyes, they’re watching their glorious leader for his next move. He realizes that he has to have the last word, his ego demands it. “I suppose I’ll have to be,” He sighs. “Seeing as this little faggot can’t seem to manage it.”

I really shouldn’t, it’s quite possibly the most incendiary thing I could possibly do at this point, but now the red rag has been presented in an already enjoyable game of prod the bear. The words leave my mouth before I realize just how bad it’s going to be.

“I’m pretty sure that’s what your ex-girlfriend said,” I snicker.

There is dead silence at the table and it’s as though time freezes outside of our little bubble. If you’re really sharp-sighted, I’m pretty sure you can watch a blood vessel blow in Brandon’s forehead. I don’t see the fist coming, but I catch it right in the side of my head. The world spins and I remember hitting the floor, but the rest of the next few minutes are a complete and utter blur.

As my senses swim back to me in a miasma of light and sound, I can hear raised voices as though filtered through cotton wool. I’m pretty sure there’s yelling and shouting happening but I couldn’t tell you what anyone was saying exactly. I blink and try to clear my vision but it’s still cloudy and indistinct. Shapes are moving rapidly and they seem to converge before separating once again. One shape goes flying, and the other lunges after it. Nothing really makes a lot of sense at the moment.

It takes a few minutes for my vision to clear sufficiently that I can see what’s happening. Something feels wet and I’ve got a splitting headache. Now I can see, that the scene before me is one of utter pandemonium. Rick is kneeling on the back of Brandon, as are several other football players. Teachers are trying to pull them off him and failing miserably at their quest. I sit up, or at least, I attempt to do so. My head spins and I hit the deck a second time and my vision fades to black.

The next time I open my eyes, I’m in the back of an Ambulance. They’re pretty impossible to mistake, what with the sirens, paramedics, and such.

“Where am I?” I mutter through dry lips, not sure who’s even nearby.

A uniformed paramedic appears above me. “It’s ok, miss, you’re safe, you’re in an Ambulance on the way to hospital. What do you remember?”

“School… punch, floor,” I mutter, wincing at the flash of pain that radiates through my head. “I don’t tell good jokes apparently.”

The medic smiles as he checks the monitor beside me. I can’t look around because my head is firmly held in place by a cervical collar. A tiny sob escapes my lips as the emotions finally catch up to me.

I feel a hand take mine and squeeze.

“Hey, relax Hol, you’re going to be ok.”

Rob, I recognize Rob’s voice right as his face appears above me. “They’ve got you strapped down, you got attacked.”

My head clears enough that I remember the punches and the fog that followed. I genuinely have no recollection of what happened. “What..?”

“Happened?” Rob raises an eyebrow. “That asshole Brandon knocked you clean out. Rick stepped in then several more of us did too. We managed to get him off you before he did too much… god I’m sorry.” he sighed.

“It’s ok,” I murmur. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Rob shakes his head but whatever he’s going to say is delayed as the medic leans over me and begins asking me a list of concussion-related questions. What is my name, do I know where am I, what date is it? They are all designed to check a patient’s mental faculties and work out just how scrambled they are, clinically speaking. It allows them to perform a check of basic function along with other factors like pupil response and blood pressure to assess for brain injury.

Concussions are essentially bruising of the grey matter. When the head is impacted, or impacts something it stops dead. The brain being somewhat more fluid keeps going like a fat man on a water slide. Bruised tissue is essentially internal bleeding at a smaller scale. Bruising causes swelling which leads to pressure and that can cause headaches and temporarily impact parts of the body like the optic nerve. Getting too technical? Sorry, force of habit.

We arrive at the Emergency Room and we’re taken inside pretty sharpish. I’m strapped to a damn gurney with my head in foam blocks and a cervical collar around my neck so I can’t see much besides the roof above me. I’m wheeled into a triage bay where Doctors and nurses descend on me like a plague of locus.

“Adolescent female presenting with blunt force trauma, fist, and floor. Lost consciousness on scene and regained in the bus. GCS initially five and climbing to fourteen in the truck.”

“Any meds?”

“None,”

There’s a flurry of sound and voices as people flitter around me, I briefly hear Rob’s voice then it’s gone. After a few minutes, the room clears out and It’s quiet, weirdly quiet.

“Miss, can you hear me?” a female voice asks. I can feel cool air on my chest, I’m not wearing a shirt, that’s not good.

“I can hear you,” I reply cautiously. “What’s going on?”

“You’re at Mercy General in the Emergency Room. You were brought in with a severe concussion, what do you remember?” The doctor appears above me and smiles. She has a short brunette pixie cut and big tortoiseshell glasses, she looks like a medical version of hipster Tinkerbell.

“Getting hit by a semi-truck full of stupid?”

“A sense of humor is good,” she smiles. “Anything else?”

“I was at school, we were having lunch. A fight started and I think I was hit in the head; it gets fuzzy after that.”

“What’s your name honey?”

“Alex,”

“Ok sweetheart, that’s fantastic. We’re going to be taking you up for a few scans to make sure nothing is too wrong. Your brother came in with you. He explained to me that you’re a little different from other girls. I’m taking some precautious for your dignity’s sake ok?”

Oh fuck, I didn’t imagine that outcome.

The doctor smiles again reassuringly. “It’s just me in here right now, but I need to warn you; I have to get you trauma naked so I can get you into a gown and up to imaging, alright? I promise I’ll be as respectful as possible.”

“Uh, ok.”

I can feel scissors next to my skin as my clothing is cut away. It’s not a particularly pleasant experience seeing as my arms, legs, and neck are all strapped down. You see, This isn’t some sort of kink, when one has suffered a cranial trauma, that is, bonking one’s noggin, it’s often advisable to make sure nothing else was broken in the process. The head after all is attached to the body by one very breakable thing called your neck. If you start acting like an inflatable at a car wash, your spine doesn’t tend to thank you.

The doctor covers my now cold bare flesh with a hospital gown. Feeling this powerless is an excruciating feeling and one I endeavor to abate as much as possible in years to come when I was on the other side of the stethoscope.

“There we go honey, all done,” she announces once my humiliation is complete. “Let's get you whisked up to imaging and hopefully get you out of all this mess, eh?”

I won’t bore you with my trip to imaging, it’s incredibly dull. Before you ask, yes, Mercy General is the hospital where my Mom works, so I’m already worried that I won’t get to swear Rob to silence before it’s too late. Currently, as far as I’m aware they haven’t put two and two together, for which I am rather glad. Rob knows; I’m not sure how I can use that to my advantage at the moment but I’m also concussed, leave me alone. All that I can think is that I’m about to be fully and parentally exposed and I am not ready. I’m not even mentally ready to explain myself.

The Imaging department at the hospital is where they take a look under the hood without having to actually get under the hood. You’ve all seen Medical dramas; I won’t explain an MRI or an X-ray to you dearest reader. Once I’ve been irradiated, magnetized, and sizzled at gas mark five for a good hour I’m transferred to a room on a general ward and finally freed from my restraints. I appreciate the concern for my body, but being in restraints is exhausting and frustrating. Thankfully the painkillers they have given me have reduced my suffering to a dull ache.

 

 

After the hospital porters deposit my padded chariot in a room, I’m left in peace and quiet. It’s quite intimidating because I’ve never been hurt like this before in my life and I’m feeling quite isolated. I’m glad Rob is nearby, but right now, it’s just me.

I seem to have been admitted as a female, which is, as much as I would love it, a problem. Parents tend to visit their injured children in hospitals, especially when they work there. I don’t see a lot of ways around Mom and the ‘oh hi I’m a girl’ issue. Honestly? My heart is pounding and running laps on how to explain my current situation.

There’s a knock at the door as I’m mid panic and the doctor from earlier pops her head in with a smile. “Hello Alex, how are we feeling?”

Well, I can’t say terrified that my Mom will find out I’m a girl and that my life is over, can I?

“My head’s still thumping and I feel a little stiff, but I’m not as woozy,” I admit.

“That’s good,” the doctor smiles as she arrives at my bedside and checks through the chart attached to the foot. When she’s done, she comes over and does the whole pen light in the eyes routine before stepping back. “I don’t think we were properly introduced earlier, I’m Harriet Jones, your Doctor. You gave us all quite a scare you know.”

“Wasn’t my first choice admittedly.” I offer. “I’d rather have stayed away too.”

“Do you remember much about what happened?”

I think back, it is a little foggy. “I was having lunch, I said something, and Brandon, one of the boys, hit me. After that, it was a little blurry until I was in the ambulance, but I remember fighting and shouting.”

Doctor Jones nods. “That’s normal for a concussion, things will clear up in a few days. I got your results back from imaging and we have no immediate concerns. There’s some minor swelling and you do have a moderate concussion. Honestly, honey, you’ve been incredibly lucky. A couple of stitches and some rest and you’ll be right as rain.”

Yeah, acid rain.

“Do you know where my brother is?” I ask uncertainly. I’d like at least one ally here, it might soften things with the parentals.

“Robert?” she asks with a smile. “He’s a really protective brother, isn’t he? You’re a lucky girl. He’s right outside honey, ok? I also called for your Mom. She’s in the middle of surgery at the moment, but she’s getting someone to step in for her and she’ll be right down to see you, ok?”

Welp, the connection has been made, The best I can do is try to deflect on my end. Maybe I can blame this all on assumption and a horrible mistake?

Doctor Jones misinterprets the look of panic on my face and squeezes my hand. “It’s ok sweetheart, you’re going to be ok, I promise. I know it’s tough not having your mom here but she knows you’re ok, I made sure of it. Get some rest and she’ll be here soon, I promise.”

“Uh, thanks,” I answered uncertainly. “I appreciate it, Doctor.”

“I’ll let your brother know that he can come see you, ok?” She gives me a last smile and makes her exit.

What the hell has today become? I’m trying to decide how to best explain my way out of my mess when there’s a knock at the door. “Come in?”

The door cracks open and Rob sticks his head inside cautiously. “Uh, are you good for a visitor Holly?”

“Uh, sure.”

Rob steps inside and closes the door. He doesn’t approach, he just stands by the door and looks at me. “I was so afraid…”

The look on his face is heartbreaking; my big tough badass older brother genuinely looks frightened. Rob shakes his head and steps forward slightly. “I only just got to… you only just told me… the real you. I was afraid you’d die and that would be it; over. I’d never get to know you properly.”

“What actually happened? I don’t remember much,” I ask, trying to distract from awkward mortality questions

Rob chuckles darkly. “Well, he hit you, although I didn’t see that first part. Why he did it, I’m not so sure. Knowing you it was probably your big mouth.” he opines with a pointed look in my direction. My sheepish grin confirms his theory.

“It was all real fast; you hit the ground like a ragdoll and he started on you again when Rick jumped him. Within seconds most of the team was on him. Once we got him subdued and I got to you… Alex,” breathes, his eyes full of sorrow. “I thought you were dead, you weren’t moving… there was blood everywhere. I was so scared.”

“Shit,” Now I feel quite bad for him, this clearly got to him and I’m more worried about me.

Rob shifts awkwardly, and I can tell he’s come to the real kicker. “Teachers cleared everyone out and the EMTs came. They checked you over and rushed you to the ambulance, they… made an assumption about you because of how you looked. That, and when they took off your shirt to put you on a monitor, you had… on your chest, you had…” he swallows and looks uncertainly at me, “breasts.”

Ah, that’s just plain sibling awkward. “Rob, you know I’ve been taking the medication right? The hormones? Well, it’s making me develop like I should. That means I have breasts.”

He looks a little uncertain for a moment, almost hesitant. “I knew you were serious Holly, that this was real, but… that just shocked me to my core. I’ve seen you looking like a girl, sure, but when they cut away your shirt and I saw… your chest in your bra it finally killed Alex in my head. Does that make sense?”

I nod. I guess it really does bring the reality of this home beyond the theoretical, so his hamfisted explanation makes some sense. Sorry for dumping the girls on you that way brother dearest!

I remember the important topic at hand…. Mom.

“Uh, Rob, I need a favor.”

“What? Anything?”

“Look, Mom and Dad; they can’t know about this, not yet. I need to try and keep this under wraps until I can get some place safe like college. I know it’s a lot but can you… You know, run interference?”

Rob looks super awkward all of a sudden. “Uh, that’s gonna be hard Holly, Mom… she knows already.”

 

 

Modern Day Holly here with your ‘ew it’s boring and real’ warning. The next chunk of the story is a little on the more introspective and sad side. It's not bad, but you try unpacking your reality and keeping it funny and light. We’ll be back to the usual antics soon enough, but for now, enjoy a fat dose of my reality as it was that fateful day.

I wake up from a nap I hadn’t realized I had taken. You know hospitals; you tend to sleep a ton because there are not a lot of other things to do. The room I’m in is dark, telling me that I’ve managed to miss a good portion of the afternoon and evening so far, I guess I needed it. Somewhere nearby I can hear the soft rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor reminding me that I’m trapped here in a hospital. My head is much more clear now and the headache is almost entirely gone. What isn’t gone, however, is the stinging ache I can feel somewhere behind my head. I reach behind and feel the dressing at the base of my skull.

My movement alerts the other person in the room, the one I hadn’t seen yet. They’re sitting quietly in the gloom, taking up one of the room’s nasty hospital visitor’s chairs: Doctor Veronica Winters, aka Mom. She’s sitting there in her scrubs looking like she’s not managed to get home yet. I suddenly feel very guilty for worrying her, probably more than I fear her reaction to my secret. She looks over at me when she senses my movement and smiles in the gloom.

“Alex,” she murmurs softly, moving over to my side in the way that mothers do. Reaching above my head, she switches on one of the bedside lamps and angles it away so it doesn’t blind us both. To my sensitive head, it’s still quite a sharp change. “I didn’t want to wake you, honey, you were sleeping. How are you feeling?”

I smile weakly and shrug. “You didn’t have to come down, I know you were busy.”

Mom rolls her eyes. “I only found out three hours into a bypass surgery. As soon as they told me you were bought in, I scrubbed out and let Marcie Johnson take over. There was no way was I missing my child’s time of need.”

Fuzzy heart moment goes brr.

Mom’s lip quirks. “You know, I was a little surprised to find you here.”

“What do you mean?”

She sits gently on the edge of the bed and takes my hand in hers. “They told me that my daughter had been brought in after a fight at her school. On my way down here, I was wondering how the hell Chrissie managed to get attacked at College in Chicago and then get admitted here, half a country away.”

“Really good AirMed?” I offer sheepishly, not really expecting it to actually work. You know, it’s one of those jokes you make when you know you’re screwed but hope they’ll spare you.

Mom’s lip quirks again even as she frowns at my comment. “Would you believe my surprise when I came in here and Harriet from the ER briefed me on my youngest daughter Alex’s injuries?”

Gulp! That didn’t last long at all, did it? I’ve no chance here but the truth, Mom doesn’t do bullshit.

“I can explain, Mom, I promise.”

Mom shakes her head and squeezes my hand. “You don’t need to sweetheart. I know, and I have known for quite a long time. It wasn’t quite how I expected you to tell me though.”

Excuse_me.com/what.html

“You know? How?”

She nods and intertwines our fingers like she did when I was a small child. “I’ve known for a while now baby.” she smiles kindly. “I didn’t know how to broach it with you so we decided to wait. Your father and I, we saw how sad you were and just how much you were hurting, we didn’t know what to do to help. We saw how you spent time with Chrissie growing up, how very different you were to Robert and we saw all the behaviors and the responses; we tried to pretend it wasn’t really happening.”

She sighs heavily and for the first time, she looks way older. “We sent you to that school to see if it might encourage you to play with the other boys, to adjust and become comfortable. Unfortunately, it only seemed to make things worse. I think we realized it was too late when you withdrew yourself from us last year. By that point, it was all we could do to try and communicate, somehow.”

She sighs and strokes my hair. “I saw the signs, I’m not an idiot darling. I know you started taking hormones; remember that you are the child of a doctor, after all. If anyone had the knowledge and resources to pursue this themselves, it was you.”

Mom leans forward and strokes my cheek, her smile is so warm and genuine that I cannot possibly feel afraid as I stare into her eyes. “I also recognized the signs from Chrissie and my own childhood honey; a young girl entering puberty isn’t so easy to miss to a mother’s gaze.”

I goldfish, everything I had known is falling apart. My expectations of rejection, my fear of coming out. Even how well I had hidden my feelings before, during, and after I started to try to save myself. “You kept asking me if I was ok? Why not just tell me that you knew? I thought…” I sigh and look away. “I thought you were oblivious.”

“I wanted you to open up in your own time,” she admits. “It was when I felt your bra strap the other week that I realized your father and I had to say something sooner rather than later. That I had missed so much that you were already in your first bra, it had gone on for long enough.”

“You don’t hate me?” I almost whisper, terrified to hear the answer but powerless to not ask it anyway. “You don’t want to send me to military school or conversion therapy to have me fixed?”

I can see the tears sliding down Mom’s cheeks now. “No darling, I’d never dream of doing that. I would never, could never hate you for who you are baby.”

“Oh, Mom!”

Let’s just say the next twenty minutes are a monumental blubfest sponsored by Estrogen. I’m hugging Mom, she is hugging me and tears are flowing freely. Noses are being blown and ugly crying is very much the order of the day, it’s not some Hollywood moment, but it feels amazing to just exist with her now that there are no more lies.

I’m not sure what to think about this whole mess if I’m honest. There are ways that I imagined my coming outgoing, some better than others. Honestly, I was more terrified of the potential and refused to let myself hope for a good outcome. Fear is a paralyzing drug, and one that isn’t easy to overcome. Honestly, even in my most positive thoughts about this, I never imagined coming out to my Mom in a hospital bed after nearly getting killed by one ton of idiot.

Am I bothered that they knew already? That they didn’t talk to me about it? Partly, I suppose. I might have done things differently if they had told me before the semester started. I can’t change the past, so I must accept the future. So far, it’s not looking awful.

When we settle down and I finish drying my now very red and puffy eyes. I’m just staring at my Mom and it feels like im looking at her for the very first time. I can see her as a woman and not a mother. Growing up, we see our parents as idealized figures; they’re Mom and Dad, and they exist outside of human constraints. Actually seeing my own mother as an adult human female with flaws and imperfections is new to me. A human who can be imperfect, but somehow it makes her more relatable.

When I look at her objectively, Veronica Winters is a beautiful woman, despite her long hours divided between the hospital and raising three kids. Like me, she’s slim and brunette. We’re both around five foot six, but her spirit towers above everyone she touches. Mom’s entire life has been dedicated to others; whether it’s us kids or the people whose lives she saves. How could I possibly believe she would actually have rejected me? I feel so insanely stupid now that I was so scared.

The truth is, it’s not that simple, is it? It might have seemed obvious or simple to an outside observer, but I cannot begin to explain just how scared and paranoid the mind of a young kid is who finds themselves outside the societal norm. To be a trans kid, generally is to hide. We hide because society tells us so many horrible things about our mere existence. Why would you want to admit to it? Surely everyone you know secretly harbors those negative thoughts right? That hatred? It makes you paranoid.

“So you’re really ok with this? With me?” I sniff.

Mom makes a weird face. “Yes and no.” She holds up her hands to let her finish as I’m about to interject. “I one hundred percent support you Alex, you are my child and I will always support you. This is your life and if this is right for… god who am I kidding? Of course, this is right for you. I look at you now and I cannot see anything but my youngest daughter.”

Blub.

“What I’m not ok with, is that you took such dangerous risks to get here. I’m angry that you didn’t feel you could trust us, and I’m angry that you got hurt by that horrible boy.”

“I was scared Mom,” I admit. “I felt so alone, so isolated. I was convinced you and Dad would reject me and push me off to be like Rob. I couldn’t face it and I was desperate.”

“I love all of you all the same, but you are nothing like your brother,” she admits with a sardonic chuckle. “That would have been an impossible task.”

“I didn’t think I had a choice, Mom,” I admit sheepishly. “I couldn’t stand the idea of turning into a boy; It terrified me. I reached a dark point where It was do anything, or…”

I want to tell her I considered death, but all of a sudden, I cannot verbalize the words. The look of horror on her face however tells me that she understands all the same.

“When I saw the signs this summer and realized what you were doing, your father and I spoke.” She admits. “We knew we couldn’t confront you directly, not yet. I came up with the best plan I could; give you someone else to talk to; a trustworthy person that could keep the secret and at least keep you safe. All I needed was a good excuse to pack you off to the doctor for a checkup. With who else but my old college friend could I confine in that my youngest child was transgender?”

Ah, Doctor Harris, you rat.

“Don’t blame him,” Mom adds, like she can read my mind. “I told Tony my suspicions and he told me that he wouldn’t push, but if you chose to confide in him he would do what he could to be a neutral party. You have to believe I just wanted to keep you safe.”

“Why not just talk to me?” I do feel slightly betrayed, but more because I was so expertly out maneuvered. Point to you Mater.

She looks sheepish now, “You needed to tell me in your own time darling. I didn’t want to force you.”

“But if you knew I was taking hormones, you had to know that I was serious?”

“Do I want you to see a specialist? Absolutely. Did I want you to tell me first? Absolutely. Did you need to reach the point of acceptance first by yourself? yes.”

Why does she always have to be right?

“How long has Robert known?” She asks nodding back towards the door.

“He found out a couple of days ago,” I admit. “It was really sudden. He didn’t do anything silly, did he?”

Mom smiles and brushes some stray hair from my face. “Your brother was your brother. He tried to run interference and he even tried to prepare me, in his own silly way.”

I cringe at that, but I also love him for it. “That sounds like him, trying to be the hero.”

“He’s like his dad,” Mom smiles.

I nod my agreement and then smile. “I love Dad, but I’m glad I’m not.”

Mom squeezes my hand. “No, you’re a younger version of me.”

I had always seen myself that way; I was proud to be like her. Whether it was my looks, my hair, or my voice. Heck, even my desire to follow in her footsteps in Medicine. I wanted with all my heart to be like my Mom. To hear her say it back to me, and to validate those feelings felt incredible.

This had to be the most topsy turvy day of my life. Am I allowed to have some hope now?

 

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

 

 

It might be a common stereotype that hospital food is awful but the truth is, it’s a stereotype because it’s true. I think they secretly keep it that way to ensure patients want to get out of there as quickly as possible. What better to empty beds than soggy toast and jello cups that taste like Draino?

I woke up when the nurses came in around six am. There’s no such thing as a lie in, in a hospital, no matter how much that might be a great treatment. Despite the hour, I felt a great deal more normal, even with the stitches. After a disgusting breakfast of soggy cornflakes and limp toast, I was dispatched for another round of scans.

Once they had established that I still had a brain inside my head and that it was, in fact, the correct shape, I was returned to my room. Doctors seem to be quite insistent about that fact after cranial trauma. It turned out that when I had fallen I had struck my head and I was now the proud owner of six stitches just inside the rear of my hairline. From the way I had fallen and the injuries I had sustained, I was apparently lucky I hadn’t broken my neck; it’s rather scary in hindsight.

The doctor that had seen me on my admission the day before had declared me fit to depart after lunch and I was left to my own devices pretty much until then. Something something discharge policy, hospital bureaucracy never changes, trust me.

Being a teenager who has to pass a few hours without distraction is bad enough when you’ve nothing to worry about. When you just came out to your Mom and now face an uncertain future, three hours felt like ten years. I didn’t know where I stood at that moment. My entire survival mode had been designed around keeping this fact from my family; locking myself down and surviving until I could reach the freedom of college.

Now what? I hadn’t actually factored in them being ok with this. Nowhere in my plans had I even wargamed out the idea that this might have a happy ending. I know my neuroses are quite well understood at this point, but from my narrow teenage perspective, I’d been blinded by doom. As the curtains drew back on that fear, I was in a bright and uncertain world. I just hoped nobody at school had seen anything they didn’t need to; that would be problematic indeed.

Shortly after twelve, Mom arrived, and in civilian attire to boot. I’d always gotten used to seeing her in scrubs at the hospital, but instead, she is wearing jeans and a shirt like any normal mother. It sent a message that she was here for me and not them.

“What are you doing here?” I asked stupidly as she bustled into my room flicking through my chart.

“I came to take you home sweetheart, they can afford to miss me for a day.”

“What about my discharge paperwork?”

She grinned and nodded back out at the hallway. “There are some perks to your mother working here; it’s all handled already. You are being released into my care for further observation. I’m taking a few days off work.”

I shake my head, “You don’t need to do that Mom, I know how important your work is.”

I want this to be understood very clearly: My mother loves us very much and spends plenty of time with her children. The difference is, that I know how much good she does at the hospital, and how much she wants to help others. I don’t want to feel responsible for her absence.

“It is,” she concedes. “However, they have cover available and I’m owed leave. Right now my baby needs me. What kind of mother would I be if I sent you home and carried on caring for someone else’s family?”

“You might have a point,” I admit, sitting up on the bed and pulling the gown around myself shyly. “Did you bring me anything to wear? They kinda trashed what I came in with.”

Now yes, this is a transgender story but it isn’t some work of nutty fiction where Mommy brings me my first frilly dress to wear on this first official day as Mother and Daughter. No, she brought me something realistically practical for the job. That’s my Mom, and this is my story, so I do apologize for letting you down.

Mom shuffles for a moment as though she’s momentarily uncertain and then hands me a bag. “It’s not much, but if you wanted to… I didn’t know what you’d want to wear” she admits with a slight frown. I think, shock horror, my mother isn’t sure what the right thing to do is.

“If you don’t want me to, I don’t have to Mom,” I smile at the gesture. “I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

She shakes her head and sits down beside me on the bed. “This isn’t about me, it's about you, sweetheart. It isn’t about being ready, it’s about being truthful. Are you telling me the mirror doesn’t show you what I see? I’m almost positive the world sees the young woman you are, whatever you wear.”

She has a point, and it’s one I’m secretly delighted with, despite the trouble it causes at the moment.

“I’m pretty fragile, I don’t think I’m up for anything adventurous, please tell me you brought some pants?”

She smiles. “There’s some jeans that should fit in there too. I’ll give you some privacy to get dressed honey, call if you want any help, ok?”

I give her a nod and accept the bag and she leaves the room. With great curiosity, I dig through the bag she brought me. Her words are most cryptic and I am most curious to see what she decided to bring. Now our chat the night before was hardly a groundbreaking ‘you can transition’ declaration, but it also wasn’t a flat-out denial. The word ‘daughter’ was mentioned if I recall correctly, so I’m pretty sure I have permission?

I tip the bag out on the bed beside me and take a look. There is a skirt, bless my Mom for the thought. I think it’s one of Chrissie’s, I’m not sure if I want to go straight in at the deep end, but perhaps that’s just nerves? I reject it out of hand and instead set a pair of pale blue jeans to one side. I think the Jeans belong to Chrissie too. It might be interesting as she’s taller than me and has bigger hips. There’s a pack of plain cotton panties and a plain white sports bra that looks like it should fit. These I’m more than happy to wear; if nothing else, at least I can finally stop wearing boxers, yay!

There last items are one of my old cozy boy T-shirts, a plain black girl’s tank top, and a hoodie. I guess today marks the first day I don’t bother hiding at the very least. For once the hoodie can stay in the bag. I won’t lie, that’s a massive relief. I pick the tank top; it’s going to show who I am, I hope, without being too much.

I dress quickly and check my appearance in the mirror of the small attached bathroom. The girl looking back at me isn’t going to win any beauty contests, but she’s me. My god, she’s really me! The jeans are a tiny bit long, but nothing a roll of the cuff cannot solve. I’m more surprised to find that they fit me well in the hip department, when did I get this curvy? The tanktop fits me well and comes down almost to the top of the jeans. There’s no hiding the fact that I have boobs, wearing this. No hiding now; I hope this is a gentle enough departure from Alex. I don’t have any makeup and my hair, well, it’s attached to my head. Hey, nobody said this is a fashion contest.

When I step out of the bathroom, Mom is waiting with a wheelchair in hand and she’s checking her phone. When she hears the door she looks up and the expression on her face is priceless. Her surprise turns to sorrow and she looks utterly guilty.

“My gosh, darling. How could we have been so blind?”

Within seconds, I’m in her arms and there are admittedly, a lot more tears. It’s not quite a full-on blubfest, but It’s a happy little cry in my mother’s arms, and it feels fantastic. When she releases me, she brushes the hair out of my eyes affectionately and smiles at me. “You’re beautiful honey. You certainly look like you spent a night in hospital, but you’re my beautiful baby.”

I gulp back more tears, “I’ve been waiting a lifetime to hear that Mom.”

She smiles and starts finger-combing my hair into some semblance of order. Pausing, she shakes her head and pulls a tie off her wrist, and twists it up into a bun behind my head in one swift motion. “That will do for now,” she smiles. “Shall we get you home?”

I simply nod and take my seat in the chair. I could argue but I know hospital policy. Ride to the door and then I’m free. Liability insurance; you’ve got to love it. I have to say, being wheeled through the hospital by Mom is a surreal experience. I am presenting as a girl right now and nobody is looking at me strangely at all. Sure it’s not my first time, and yes, I know how I look. The thing is, it feels very different when my Mom is right there and she knows everything. Somehow in that moment, it feels so much more real.

Outside the Hospital doors, I step off the chair and follow Mom across the lot towards her car. I’ll admit, I’m nervous, but I don’t want to be the one to start talking. Inside the hospital it was all tears and ‘I love you no matter what,’ moments. Out here in the cold reality of the real world, there are consequences to doing what I’m doing. I know mom gave me these clothes and put my hair in the bun I’m now wearing, but I can’t help but feel a little gunshy. I’ve gotten so used to hiding that being out in the open is incredibly scary and unfamiliar territory.

“Feel weird?” Mom asks as if she’s reading my mind.

I nod, “kinda. I’m still trying to get used to being open about this with you.”

She smiles in that Mom way and nods, “I can understand that. It’s taking some adjustment to remember the pretty girl next to me is my youngest child.”

“Was I that forgettable?”

Mom unlocks the car before stopping and staring off into the distance. “Not forgettable exactly, but perhaps a little empty. Even now, just like this, there’s light in your eyes now, sweetheart.”

I can only nod in reply, she’s right of course, Mom is always right somehow.

The drive home is mostly made up of small talk and little conversational dead ends where we awkwardly try to carry on like nothing is different now. It’s hard to chat casually about my day when it’s been, quite so monumental.

When we arrive home, I’m relieved to see Dad’s car isn’t there yet. I think if I had to face them all in one go, I’d probably pull a damsel and faint on the spot.

“Rob’s expecting us,” she answers, not opening her door either. “He’s been worried sick. We spoke last night and he’s excited to see his sister come home.”

“What about you, Mom?”

She smiles reassuringly and rubs my arm. “Of course, I am, sweetheart. There might be an adjustment period for all things family-related, but we will get through that. Sure it feels weird to say it out loud at the moment, but you are my youngest daughter. I wouldn’t have brought you the clothes If I didn’t support you, honey.”

I get out of the car and follow her up to the house. I won’t lie, my heart is in my mouth as I walk those oh-so-familiar steps. I know it’s the same house with the same people and those there right now accept me… or so they say. It just feels alien, so very alien. I cross my arms under my breasts nervously as I follow Mom into the house. Even that feels strange to do; I’ve fought for so long to suppress my natural posture and behaviors that allowing myself to do it feels oddly uncomfortable.

As we walk inside, I spot Rob waiting for us. He’s sat on the bottom step of the stairs and he stands as he spots us coming inside. His eyes go wide when I step out from behind Mom. I know it’s not a massive difference in my appearance but it’s making a statement I’ve tried to suppress for so long; I am a girl.

“Hey Spike,” he waves awkwardly.”Uh. Should I still call you that?”

I smile, “I’ was just getting to like it.”

“I ah, I’m glad you’re home, but I’m gonna head out and give you guys some space for a bit.”

I step forward and touch his arm, fighting my desire to hold back and be a boy. “You don’t need to go for my sake, Rob. It’s ok really; this is weird for me too.”

“It is?”

I nod, “sure it is. It’s something I’ve had to hide so long that finally letting it out feels like I’m dreaming. I feel like almost at any moment I’m going to wake up and it will all be back to normal again.”

“Uh, Rick and some of the guys from school; they wanted to come see you,” he mentions, scratching his head sheepishly. “I told ‘em it wasn’t a good time, you know? Family stuff.”

“Uh, thanks,” Oh, god, Rick… that I cannot manage to even think about at the moment.

“Look, I’m gonna head out and meet some guys and hang out at the mall. Give you and Mom some space for stuff, I’ll be back for dinner ok?”

“Bye Rob, thanks for not being weird about me.”

He smirks and I see a bit of the old Rob again. “Oh the weird is on pause for diplomatic reasons, I’ll still treat you like crap regardless of whether you’re my brother or my sister.”

“Wouldn’t expect any less.” I reach up and hug him on impulse. It takes a second, but I feel his arms around me too. It’s a nice little moment and it feels right. Damn, when did he get this big?

I watch as he leaves and I feel a little better. My big brother’s approval means a lot to me. We don’t always get on, but what siblings do? I’ve always looked up to him, not because he’s an example of the man I wanted to be, but rather, a great example of a good man. I guess I might not have realized it at the time, but I hope I’m lucky enough to find one like him.

“Feel better?” Mom asks.

I nod. “I do, but he seems a little standoffish. I do worry he…”

Mom shakes her head. “It’s nothing to do with your being a girl honey, he told me that much last night. He’s not so comfortable with how much your little adventure scared him. He wants to dote on you and protect you but he’s afraid of smothering you. He blames himself for what happened.”

“He blames himself?”

“Of course, he’s like your father; honor and duty.”

“There was no way he could have stopped what happened, that was all my fault.”

Mom directs me up towards my bedroom and follows along behind. “You’ll need to learn that the men in your life will often feel a sense of responsibility to protect you. They mean well, even if it’s frustrating and misdirected.”

“Rob’s always protected me,” I admit. “I always loved that about him; no matter how much of an ass he was, he’d always have my back.”

“He’s a good boy,” she agrees, “a good man.”

We reach my room and I plop down on my bed and give Mom a good hard look. “I never was much of one, was I?”

She sits down beside me and puts an arm around my shoulder and shakes her head. “No darling, but I don’t think that’s much of a surprise, now is it?” She doesn’t wait for me to reply before she continues. “I know you’re feeling very awkward and everything is very new for you but remember; we love you. This is ok, Alex. You can relax and be yourself without fear. I have no idea how it must feel to have to hide so much but I can appreciate it must be exhausting.”

“You have no idea,” I sigh, allowing the tension to finally leave my body. “Keeping a mask on twenty-four hours a day, it’s driven me into the ground.”

“We’ll talk properly when your father gets home tomorrow afternoon, as a family. We will work out how to proceed, I promise; school things, life things. It may take some time to work out all the mechanics and jump through the hoops, but I promise, we will.”

She smiles at me and squeezes me. “Now as your physician, I am keeping you off for the rest of the week to properly recover; concussions are serious business and a school is a difficult place to avoid knocks and falls without recent developments adding to stress modifiers.”

“Having a Doctor for a Mom is so useful,” I chuckle. “I didn’t expect to be all girl from today onward. I’ve kept it inside this long, what’s a bit more if there’s actually light at the end of the tunnel?”

She squeezes me affectionately, “You were always the practical one, like me.”

I swallow my fear and ask the most important question so far. “Do you think that I could be a girl at home?”

Mom nods without stopping to think about it. “I don’t see why not. I’ll make time this week for us to go and get you some wardrobe basics. Until then, I’m sure Chrissie won’t mind if you borrow some of her things.”

“As long as she’s ok with it, I might,” I agree cautiously, watching her expression to see if it’s the right answer. She doesn’t seem to disapprove so I give her a small smile of gratitude.

I glance around the room while we sit there together in silence. My room has never really leaned towards boy or girl, it’s clean and tidy and almost sterile. I’m a neat kid but it’s not some sort of gender thing, I think I just get a bit neurotic about mess. I have some game posters up and that won’t be changing any time soon. I might be a chick but I’m not some vapid pink doll girl. Don’t you hate it in those trans stories where the gamer nerd protagonist transitions and utterly abandons their games and nerd stuff? Gaming is not just for boys!

“I’ll leave you in peace for a little while, ok?” Mom prompts, breaking my little internal moment. “I’ll check on you in a bit sweetheart, maybe try taking a shower and getting refreshed?”

After she departs, I pull myself up on the bed and close my eyes. It’s real; I came out, holy shit. How did I manage to do that in one piece? So far, Mom and Rob both know, and neither one hates me. These are both outcomes I never actually expected to be possible. I think I buried myself so deeply in my fear that I removed all possibilities of a good outcome as viable. Apparently, Dad already knows and is reportedly fine. Is there a chance I actually get to be happy? Holy shit, this is a real M. Night Shyamalan-level plot twist.

My first point of order now I’m back is to get that shower. Even one night in a hospital leaves you smelling like them and it’s distinctly unpleasant. Rather than using my own ensuite, somewhere I have always preferred because it gave me both privacy and safety, I decided to use the master bathroom. I don’t have anything to hide anymore and I really want to use some of Mom’s shampoo and conditioner. Look, you try maintaining fine hair the length of mine with boy's products, it's unpleasant.

Unlike my smaller shower, the main one is a ceiling-mounted deluge monster that drowns the user where they stand. God, if you’ve never experienced one I hope you get to, they’re fantastic. Within thirty minutes I’m squeaky clean. On a whim and because I’m feeling pretty good right now, I carefully shave both my armpits and my legs. I’ve never been particularly hairy, but now that everything is out in the open, I want what little I have gone. Now, I don’t have to fear anyone spotting bare smooth skin anymore. I’ll probably have to worry in two weeks when I have to hit the gym, but this is why they invented sweatpants, right?

I towel myself off and enjoy taking the opportunity to steal some of Mom’s body lotion. Am I enjoying this far too much? You bet I am. I’m barely back in my room when my phone chirps; it’s on my bedside where I left it before school on Friday morning. I don’t typically take it with me. A, I don’t have a lot of people that text me, and B, remember this is 2005, we’re in ancient times before smart phones.

Megan: “hru??? Pls cl us!, hrd bt skl, u hosp stl?”

Oh boy, that one translates to a 911-level text. They get first dibs on reply.

There’s a bunch of other texts in there too, it turns out that, to my shock, I’ve been missed. Andy, Gary, and Rick have all sent me texts checking up on me. What is even weirder is there are get-well-soon messages from unknown numbers signed by a few of Rob’s teammates. Huh, what the hell.

I make a mental note to reply to the messages when I get a chance, it’s only polite. Unable to resist the urge, I cycle back to Rick’s message and hesitate for a moment. Am I still meant to be avoiding him? I just can’t let the poor guy suffer, can I? I fire off a quick reply letting him know that I’m alive and well and that I’ll call him. Just so he isn’t worrying, no other reasons at all, honestly.

Calling Meg back is currently far more important. Having Mom is awesome, but I need my girls right now to process all of this… this.

“Hello?”

“It’s me, Holly.”

“I know, I can see my phone dumbass. How are you? We heard what happened and we’re losing our minds! We just got back from school, what’s happening?” Meg jabbers without taking a single breath.

“I’m alive, it wasn’t super bad in the end but I had to spend the night in hospital. Are you and Kara busy right now?”

“No, we’re just at home chilling. You’re home now, right? Is it ok to come over and see you? We were so worried!”

See, sensible me would explain to them that I’d come out and to expect Holly, but I forget because I’m overwhelmed and my spirit animal is the squirrel. “Yeah, sure, whenever you want, I’m not up for going out right now.”

“We’ll be around in ten, cya!”

I stare at my phone but the call is already cut as I’m pretty sure Megan is doing a fair impression of a tornado at this very moment.

I towel dry my hair and leave it loose while I redress in my underwear from earlier. Hey, leave me alone, I’ve only worn it for like three hours so I think it’s perfectly fine. I’m excited to try new stuff but I also don’t want to push things too far in these early moments. My wardrobe is also pretty non-existent at the moment, so it’s hard to be picky.

I’m about to head down to warn Mom that Meg and Kara are coming over. I should have probably told her that they knew all about me when I spotted the bag from the hospital. I mean, I had permission to wear that stuff and I did just shave my legs. It would be a shame not to wear a skirt now I have a chance, right?

I grab the skirt from the bag and examine it more closely now I’m not dismissing it out of hand. It does appear to be one of Chrissie’s but it does have potential; it has a drawstring waist. It’s an ankle-length cream linen material and it feels kinda light and floaty. I slide it up my legs and settle it above my hips. Here I am wearing a real honest-to-good skirt for the first time… in my own house, and it’s ok, wild huh?

The skirt and the tanktop don’t quite meet, so there’s a thin little strip of skin there between the two. Looking in the mirror, I give myself a little spin and smile happily. It’s really a simple thing to be happy about but leave me alone, there’s a lot of cringey firsts coming in young Holly’s life. Her first skirt is one of them. I’m admiring myself when I hear the doorbell ring.

I’m halfway down the stairs when I hear Mom answer the door first.

“Hi girls, oh, Alex? Uh, I don’t know if this is a good…”

“It’s ok Mom,” I call as I walk up beside her, “they already know.”

Megan and Kara do this anime girl impression where their eyes suddenly fill most of their faces and I swear those little excitement marks start appearing around their heads.

“Whatthehellwhenwereyougoingtotellusohmygodhollywhatthefuck!”

I can’t quite translate most of what was said because I’m enveloped in what is scientifically described as a ‘glomp’ by the two sisters. Mom is just watching on with this look of amusement on her face.

“When were you going to tell us?” Kara asks as we separate. “This is kinda huge, Hol.”

“Hol?” Mom asks.

Oh, yeah, haven’t brought the whole name topic up with the maternal unit yet. “Uh, Holly,” I admit sheepishly. “We hadn’t gotten a chance to talk about… you know, names and I guess It’s what you told me once we might have been called and IwaskindalikehopingIcould…”

“I like it,” she smiles. “I didn’t want to push you, as Alex does work for both, but I’m pretty sure you’re not an Alexander anymore darling.”

“You’re ok with this Mrs Winters?” Megan asks bluntly. “Holly was so worried about how you guys would respond to the news.”

“We’ve had some long talks, and I am okay with it,” she affirms. “Her father and I have, well. We suspected for a long time. It’s quite a recent development in practicality, but it was not remotely unexpected.”

Mom looks at both sisters in turn and sends some invisible message I can’t translate yet. “Thank you for being here for my daughter. I’m glad she at least has friends she could talk to.”

God my heart can’t take any more of this adorableness.

“It’s nothing Mrs Winters,” Kara shrugs. “Meg worked it out and I kinda stumbled upon things. Since then… well, she’s just one of us.”

All the she, her, and daughter references are really tugging at my heartstrings. It feels weird, unusual, scary? Above all, it feels so right to hear and I struggle with how to properly explain this.

Mom sends us off to my room with a promise to bring us up something to drink in a while. I'm sure she knows I’ve got so much to unpack with the girls and recognizes I need a bit of peer time away from the olds. Yeah, me, having friends I need to share things with, who the hell even am I?

About thirty minutes later, I’m sat on my bed with the sisters. I’ve regaled them with every sordid detail from Friday morning through to the present day. You don’t want to hear all that again, you only just survived the big espresso depresso chapter. We’re chatting about little nothings when Mom knocks and opens the door. Picture this; I’m sitting there cross-legged with Kara braiding my hair while Meg is sitting across from me jabbering away while painting my nails lurid pink.

Naturally, I feel immediately embarrassed that Mom has walked in on this extremely feminine scene and start trying to boy up in response.

“How are you girls getting on?” It’s a simple phrase as she sets our drinks down but it puts me at ease. I’m not doing anything wrong, it’s ok Holly…

“Great Mrs W,” Meg enthuses. “Holly was telling us about everything and we’re fixing her.”

“I can see that,” Mom smirks at my obvious discomfort. “Just leave her in one piece when you’re done, she is going to still have to go back to being Alex in the short term for school.”

“How can anyone expect this…” Kara gestures at me. “To be a boy?”

Mom sits down on my desk chair and nods. “I suppose when the cat is out of the bag it’s rather hard to unsee it, but I know what you mean.”

“People at school don’t seem to treat me any different,” I admit. “New people think I’m a girl for sure.”

“You are, dumbass,” Megan rolls her eyes.

“No permanent changes till we work out a plan for the future, ok?” Mom insists. “Hair, eyebrows, anything she can’t hide has to stay the same.”

“Spoilsport,” Meg grins. “Nah, we’ll behave.”

“Does she get to be a girl at home now all the time?” Kara asks, finishing up my first-ever braid. (It feels weird)

Mom nods but holds up a finger. “She can indeed, but we’ll need to be careful to ensure things don’t get back to school in the short term. We’re having a family meeting tomorrow to go over things. I don’t see it being an issue, however.”

“Cool!” Kara enthuses. “You have to come over tomorrow, we can go through our wardrobes and find you some basics to start you off. You’re a bit skinnier than both of us, so there’s plenty we don’t quite fit that’s still amazing.”

“I’m probably going shopping with Mom this week,” I point out, glancing over at Mom. I totally would want to accept her offer but I don’t want to seem ungrateful.

Mom smiles and nods, “Don’t go crazy, ok?”

“Uh, what about Gary?”

“Rats,” Meg remembers her male sibling, the one who doesn’t know I’m really a girl.

“Who all does know?” Mom asks, realizing that’s probably quite an important question.

I count off on my fingers, yeah, it’s that few. “So far, you, Rob, I assume Dad. Not sure about Chrissie unless you told her. Megan, Kara, Rick’s parents, Doctor Harris uh, That doctor at the hospital… that’s it.”

“Wait, Rick’s parents know?” Megan interjects like a freight train hitting a family sedan.

“I mean, well…” I blush. “I’m pretty convinced they think I either am or am about to be his girlfriend.”

“Awwww,” Kara croons making a stupid face. “That’s adorable.”

“Are you?” Mom asks, and I can see the cheeky smirk on her face and I absolutely know one hundred percent that she’s teasing me. This does not stop me from turning the same color as a firetruck, however.

“Uh, no, I’m not. We’re friends, but… it’s complicated.”

“How so?”

“I mean, I think he likes me, like that. The problem is I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know why. Me, uh; I think maybe…there’s a possibility that he’s not the worst human on the planet… I guess.”

You know there is a step above Fire Truck Red, right? Yes, me, steam coming out of my ears.

“Even her ears are pink now.” Kara cackles. “Oh boy, sore subject.”

“Literally,” I mutter.

“I wasn’t going to broach that topic yet.” Mom offers kindly. “I mean, you didn’t exactly show any interest in girls, darling.”

Do I open up about this? I’m feeling this super powerful urge to share and actually confront this. Why not take advantage of those who want to listen? The boy learning tells me to shut up and keep it inside, it’s embarrassing. To Boybrain, liking boys is gay, and admitting it makes it real. The freedom I’ve started to feel with Megan and Kara makes me realize that girls don’t work that way and it feels far better.

“No, I never did,” I admit quietly. “Honestly, before I started on hormones, I didn’t have any interest in anyone at all. It wasn’t until that vacation this summer… and well. I saw some boys at the beach and it… clicked.”

“Ah, I remember the first time I noticed a boy,” Mom smiles. She has a faraway look, almost like she’s remembering her childhood. She’s pretty old, so it was probably in black and white.

“John Atherton; he was in my class and he was proving to the other boys how strong he was by moving some of the scenery in the theatre by himself. I was totally lost when I realized I was staring at his muscles.”

“It was swim class for me,” Meg agrees. “Swim shorts and abs.”

“So it’s normal?” I query hesitantly. “You don’t care then suddenly… ‘wham’.”

Mom nods. “Sure it is, sounds about right too; puberty starts out and your head gets full of all those signals, and suddenly, boys… completely normal.”

I frown, “This doesn’t seem weird to you Mom?”

She leans over and sweeps me into a hug. “A…Holly, you may have only just told me that you’re my daughter, but I’ve known for a few months and suspected for even longer. I’m more than mentally prepared for my daughter to be attracted to boys. Your father and brother, I cannot speak for.”

Do you think it’s weird that I’m talking about being attracted to boys with my mother in the room? Absolutely, me too but for some inexplicable reason I really want her opinion. Somehow it doesn’t feel wrong at all. I can’t describe how nice it is to be sat here like this; being myself with Mom and my friends and it’s just… normal.

 

 

I’m helping Mom finish up preparing dinner when Rob finally gets home later that evening. Before you ask, no, this isn’t some ‘Mommy-Daughter’ thing that’s cropped up since I came out. Mom taught us all to cook and expected us all to help. Just the same way dad taught all of us to change a tire, change oil, and fix stuff around the house. Our parents didn’t care if we were boys or girls; we all got an education in being useful adults.

“Smells good,” Rob offers from the doorway. We weren’t being loud but he’s kinda caught me off guard a little.

I steel myself and turn around to face him and smile awkwardly. By the time the girls had done with me earlier, I had acquired a full set of painted nails to go with my braid so I’m looking really girly. No, they didn’t dress me up or do my makeup, I wouldn’t stiff you out of that narrative titbit, would I?

Rob looks at me for a minute just taking me in silently. He shakes his head slowly and quietly murmurs, “Amazing…” I’m in the process of turning red, not quite sure what to say when he walks right past me and sticks his finger in the sauce I’m cooking.

“Hey, asshole! What the hell?”

“Mmm, this is good,” he grins. “You’ll make someone a great wife one day.”

“Robert, wash your hands,” Mom chides, slapping him away.

“Gotcha,” he laughs as he walks away, shooting me a pair of finger guns as he goes.

As he leaves the room and I hear him thumping up the stairs I silently fume while I return to the stove. I did not expect him to start picking on me this quickly.

“That’s boys for you, darling.” Mom observes, noting my annoyance.

“Huh?”

“He’s teasing you because he’s trying to make things more normal for you,” she explains rubbing my shoulder. “Boys don’t really like talking about their feelings, confronting emotional subjects is hard for a lot of them. They tend to make jokes to cover it up and gloss over things. What he said there? That was his way of telling you he still loves you and you’re his sister.”

“That makes no sense,“

“No darling, it doesn’t.” she agrees with a sigh then catches herself. “God, how did you manage to survive in that school?”

“Badly?” I offer, making a face. “Pretty badly, and mostly with Rob’s help.”

“He’s a good boy.”

“I wasn’t.” I chuckle while I start serving dinner.

What are we having? God, I forget the most important things sometimes while focusing on pesky emotions. My first meal with my family as myself is Spaghetti Bolognese. It’s a bit of a staple for us at home. We’re not Italian, but we love Italian cooking and it’s also one of the first meals I learned how to cook; somehow it just felt appropriate for that evening.

Dinner is pretty quiet, and I won’t lie, it’s still a little awkward. Mom is wonderful and that doesn’t bother me but Rob is generally a bit quiet during the meal. We make conversation but it’s almost as if nothing has changed. He’s trying to be light and normal about things. I’m not sure if he’s trying to make things better, or just feels weird.

After dinner, I go up to his room and knock.

“Come in?”

I push the door open and poke my head inside. “You got a minute to talk?”

Rob’s sat on his bed reading and looks a little surprised, but waves me inside regardless. “Sure Holly, what’s up?”

I stand awkwardly in front of him, I don’t quite know what to do with my hands or where to look. “I… wanted to say sorry for school stuff and the… ambulance and everything.” I slump a little and look at him, “I’m sorry for everything.”

“Why are you sorry?” he asks, looking confused.

“I put all this on you, I scared you and I forced all of, this,” I gesture plucking at my skirt, “on you too.”

I can’t look at him right now, I just feel warm and I’m fighting the urge to cry. I hear him shift on the bed and before I realize, he’s stood right in front of me. “I don’t know where you get the idea that you weirded me out or upset me, because I’m more worried about you, Holly.”

*sniff*

“Why?”

I mean, talk about stupid things to say, but I’m not yet in my rational era. (Lil Holly doesn’t know this reference yet, but she’s going to end up a Swiftie one day)

Rob guides me over to his bed and sits me down before plopping down beside me. “You never really seemed like my brother Holly, that’s why. I’ve done a lot of thinking since we talked Friday. I realized you always had a lot more in common with Chrissie than me, you played with her, and you behaved like her. I know we’re related, Holly, but you were never my brother, not really.“

He looks a little sheepish for a moment and grins. “When the EMTs were treating you and they called you she and stuff, It seemed like the most normal thing in the world, hell people have mistaken you for a girl plenty of times and I was used to it. When they cut your shirt off and you had a bra on and… well, you know.” he gestures at my chest with that grabby-hand boy miming boobs thing they do. “I guess… it just seemed like you oughta.”

“I oughta?”

He nods. “This probably won’t offend you now, but you were never exactly macho, Holly. You’ve always been a little girly. Over time that got, moreso. I guess I just always saw Alex as Alex. I’d catch sight of you sometimes and just see a chick, then I would realize it was you. By the time you were in that ambulance seeing Chick didn’t even seem that surprising anymore.”

“That’s… eloquent,” I opine. “So we’re good?”

“Yeah Sis, we’re good.”

“Thank you, I really mean it.”

“I got you.” he grins giving me a brotherly side hug. “So no more bro trips, right?”

My expression darkens as I realize the truth. “You probably won’t want to be seen with me once this comes out. Eventually, it will get out that I’m trans and then… social pariah.”

“Like I give a flying fuck,” Rob growls. “Let them say whatever they want.”

I keep my mouth shut. I know a point might arrive when I need to keep my distance from him for his own good. What and when I have no idea.

“So what’s happening anyway? You going to the girls' school now?”

I shrug, “Mom’s keeping me off for the week because of the concussion. After that, probably back as normal till they work something out.”

“I mean I know not much as changed since Friday but… uh, I’m going to really struggle to see a boy,” he admits sheepishly.

I catch sight of myself in the mirror sitting next to Rob. He was right; you can tell we’re related but we look nothing alike. I’m short and skinny and soft, he’s tall and broad and hairy. Would I have become that If I hadn’t…

Thank god.

 

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I woke up the next morning feeling an unexplainable flood of calmness. Perhaps that’s the wrong word to use, I know exactly why I’m happy, but for some reason, the world seems more full of color and light today. Is this what living without depression feels like? Shit, you should really try it.

Again, I’m still not curled up in a pretty nightie with my hair in rollers, this isn’t that sort of book. I’m not hiding though, and It’s the greatest thing I’ve ever felt. At the time, I couldn’t explain it in words that made sense. Modern-day Holly would tell you that it feels like a bra that is too tight but makes your boobs look amazing. You wear the damn thing all day because you just have to look perfect and at the end of the day, you take that monster off and just feel free.

I roll out of bed and take care of my morning routine before wandering downstairs to grab breakfast. Unlike in the past, I’m just wearing the oversized T-shirt and shorts that I had slept in, my hair is loose and my chest is visible; I’m not hiding who I am anymore. Would I like to be wearing girly girl shit from now on? Absolutely, but one doesn’t transition overnight and I am nothing if not patient. I’m just glad that I don’t have to hunch all the time. Hiding who you are twenty-four hours a day is truly exhausting.

I stroll into the kitchen and scruff Rob’s hair as I pass, making a beeline for the coffee pot. I might not be hiding my true sex anymore, but I’m still a slave to the caffeine gods.

“Morning squirt.”

“I thought I was Spike now?”

“Nah,” Rob shrugs. “Squirt still applies at home; Little bro or little sis, it’s a privilege of age.”

“Great,” I sigh shoving a pop-tart in the toaster. “What are you doing today?”

“Going to school, then gonna go hang with some of the guys later, probably,” he replies around a mouth of toast.

“I don’t think I’ll get any more invites to bro time at the mall, total tragedy that.”

“Probably not,” he admits with a chuckle. “I wouldn’t want them scamming on my sister. Although, that one time you did, it helped you get some cool points at school; Ironic that.”

“How so?”

“You finally climbed the social ladder only for it to turn out you never wanted to be on it to start with.”

I bite into my piping hot pop tart and chew thoughtfully. “That’s pretty accurate. They’re nice guys and I certainly see a different side of them now, but I never ever wanted to be one of them.”

Rob shakes his head. “This is going to be so weird if you come back to our school.”

“I probably am for now. Most likely until Christmas, at least.”

He looks me up and down and simply smirks. “Not sure how you’ll manage that.”

“Same way I’ve been doing it this entire time,” I shrug with resignation. “Layers, slouching and scowling. Works a charm.”

His face changes and he just looks sad. “God, now I get it. That sounds truly awful, Holly.”

He didn’t even pause when he used my name, I don’t think he realized how much that meant to me at the time.

 

 

I knocked on the front door of the Byrne house later that afternoon. Turns out a day of rest, reading, and letting myself heal was more important than doing girly things instantly. Just being Holly while openly and authentically made it all worthwhile.

I’m dressed down in baggy jeans and a sweatshirt, playing the role of grungy Alex the weedy nerd. Despite my entire reason for coming here being makeup and fashion, I still have to run the gauntlet of Gary and the Byrne parental units who are not yet in the loop. The strange part is that while this mode of dress has been my norm for so very long, it now feels so utterly false.

I suspect the truth is that I finally opened the box and realized the cat was alive and well. The poison didn’t do anything and she’s sitting there licking her paw like nothing is wrong, annoyed that it took me this long to open it. Schrodinger never took cats into the equation in his calculations.

Mom and Rob accept me, and Dad does too, by all reports. It’s early days, but I might actually get to live my life as Holly Winters. I never thought I’d see the day that happened if I’m being honest. I know that sounds ridiculous given what I’ve done so far, but in truth, it all felt very theoretical.

I’m in uncharted territory and my plan is shot to crap. I’m making this up as I go along now, but the overriding truth is that my future is female. That knowledge has banished my identity as Alex to nothing more than a suit of armor, a disguise. Is that weird? Yes, absolutely. It feels like I’m an alien in a people suit, or is that a people in an Alien suit?

Gary opens the door and raises an eyebrow. “Oh, it’s you. How are you feeling?”

“Uh, yeah, could be worse I guess. The Doctors released me without any permanent damage; just some stitches.” I smile like it’s no big deal. “Is Meg in?”

“Not in school today so it can’t be homework? What’s really going on?”

“It might be schoolwork,” I offer.

“Don’t be daft, you spend more time with my sisters than you do with me. Next, you’ll be telling me that you’re gay and swapping fashion tips with them.”

“He’s not gay,” Megan announces swanning past her brother and wrapping me in her arms. “We’re in love Gary, I’m sorry, I can’t hold it back any longer, Alex.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” he gags.

Megan and I are holding each other, bodies pressed together and she looks at me, her face mere inches from my own, and raises an eyebrow. I totally mistranslate this question and grin back at her. Meg, reading entirely the wrong signals and permission before diving in and planting a big wet one, right on my lips in full view of her brother.

“Oh god, that looks so wrong.” Gary gags and flees the scene with great haste.

Meg detangles herself from me and smirks. “Well, that got rid of him.”

I’m not quite sure what just happened, but it was very weird. I must have looked like I had just swallowed a lemon because Megan started laughing when she saw the expression on my face. “Yeah, that didn’t do a thing for me either.”

“What was that for?”

“He’ll never bother us again if he thinks there’s any boy/girl shit going on. This also protects your rep ‘stud’,” she chuckles.

I roll my eyes and follow her into the house. “Like I ever had any reputation to protect.”

Yeah, if you’re keeping track that was technically my first kiss. Coincidentally, it rather succinctly confirmed that I have zero interest in girls; no sapphic shenanigans in this story, I do apologize. In years to come I will have many female friends with Guitar Center membership cards, but I will sadly never shop there myself.

Once we’re safely locked in her room, I toss my sweater over the back of her chair leaving me in just a tank top and jeans, before I plop down on the bed next to Kara. Right now, she’s wondering what we’re both cackling about.

“She just kissed me in front of Gary, and on the lips too,” I accuse, jabbing a finger toward Megan.

Kara makes a face, “Ew, why?”

Meg shrugs, “To get him to butt out and absolutely guarantee he spreads that story.”

“I’m pretty sure Meg is attempting to use camouflage to hide me, but I seriously question its effectiveness.”

“It’s not the… worst idea,” Kara concedes. “The fake girlfriend thing could totally throw them off.”

“I have no idea how long that would even be necessary,” I point out. “I know I’m going back to school in the short term, and it’s not awful there. I’ll probably be ok till we have some sort of plan. Honestly, It would likely just confuse things more. Perhaps something to keep in the bag in case we need it?”

Meg shrugs and agrees.

“I cannot tell you how good it was to see you and your mom together yesterday.” Kara smiles, changing the subject to far more pressing matters. “I’m so freaking happy for you, Holly.”

“Now is when I gotta be extra careful,” I sigh. “Rather than one big lie, I get to live one foot in the open and one in the shadows. It’s going to be a lot easier to make mistakes now; to forget who I’m meant to be at a given time.”

“Don’t try and be Alex and Holly,” Kara suggests. “Be Holly all the time, but wear a mask that looks like Alex. If you’re always Holly, you’ll never slip up.”

I ponder the suggestion and it does actually have some merit to it. With everything unraveling so quickly in my life, I’ve not really had the time to process the actual mechanics of how I’m going to cope. I absolutely want to live my life out of school as the real me if I’m able to.

Switching back and forth between ‘Alex’ and ‘Holly’ will become complicated. Being one hundred percent Holly, and using an ‘Alex’ mask would allow me to remain centered in one personality but keep control. Will it be weirder? Oh god, absolutely; this is about to be as weird as hell.

“I think that would work,” I admit. “I’m always the girl, but at school, I just put up an Alex mask, but behind it, still Holly.”

“Yeah, it will help you remember better; that way you don’t make mistakes.”

“Can we skip to the fun part now?” Meg asks, almost bouncing with energy, “I wanna start going through stuff!”

I hold my hands up and laugh, “Ok, ok, relax! I submit myself to your will, Megan. Do your worst. Just remember what Mom said; nothing permanent ok?”

“Right missy, down to your underwear! The time for modesty is long over.” Kara announces, gesturing at my jeans and top. I consider resisting, but I reject the idea. That’s what Alex would do and Alex is long gone. I pull my tank over my head and unbutton the jeans and let them drop to the floor. Standing there in just my sports bra and panties, I rest my hands on my hips and smile sheepishly.

“You’re enjoying this, huh?” Megan asks, handing me a real bra.

“I thought you were too big?”

“I am,” she agrees, “but I got this the other day after we went shopping for more sports bras. same band but an A cup instead, so it should fit you just right.”

I give her this look that is half smile, half hug with my eyes and shamelessly pull the sports bra over my head. I don’t cover myself; for once in my life I have nothing to be ashamed of about my body.

Megan shakes her head and grins. “You’ve sure have changed your tune girl. I remember not so long ago there was this shy little creature who was beat red at the vague idea of nudity.”

I shrug, which is such a strange gesture topless because I feel my boobs bouncing. “I am still, but I have nothing to hide from you two. I trust you and I’m not ashamed of looking like me.”

“And you have nothing to be ashamed of, sweetie,” Kara adds. “You’re gorgeous and brave and absolutely no different to either of us.”

My expression darkens. “A bit different sadly, but I can’t do anything about that yet.”

Meg squeezes my shoulder as she hands me the bra, “no different.”

She helps me fasten and adjust the bra and I follow her instructions to reach into the cups and settle my boobs properly. Looking down, I see my small but very much real boobs lifted up and presented front and center on my…well, front and center.

The mirror on Megan’s wall shows a teenage girl. She’s a little on the plain side, but still, without a doubt, one hundred percent female. I can’t tell you how long I’ve dreamed of seeing her looking back at me. I smile and turn to face my teachers, “what’s next?”

“The teen girl staple, the denim mini,” Kara offers, handing me the garment. “This one is a bit small for me, and your hips are slightly narrower so it should fit great. I’m far too fat for it.”

She’s absolutely not fat at all and I make sure that I tell her so while I slip the garment up my legs and around my hip. It's a pretty normal shade of blue denim and it comes to just above mid-thigh. Modesty is not the intent of this garment, but my very first mini looks like it belongs on me. The feeling is unusual. If you’ve never worn a short skirt, trust me, they’re strange at first. You feel incredibly exposed, but you do get used to it pretty quickly. They’re certainly great for ventilation, that’s for sure.

Next, Meg hands me a camisole which is pretty self-explanatory. It’s pale blue and has thin spaghetti straps with a little trim of lace around the top edge. Pulling it down like a tank, I settle it around my chest and turn to face the mirror.

Looking back at me is a casually dressed teenage girl and it takes me a second for my brain to process that she is, in fact, me. The skirt and cami are really simple staples but they feel amazing after shapeless boys' clothes. The skirt sits at the widest point of my hips which somehow looks even wider now with these clothes. The cami comes down to just above the waist of the skirt leaving just a thin sliver of skin around my middle where they don’t quite meet. The top exposes the rounded tops of my breasts and the smallest hint of depth between them.

No, it’s not cleavage. No A-cup titties in the world are going to give you cleavage without tape, padding, and serious mechanical interventions. What I have is noticeable boobs that look like they belong on someone of my frame. Everything looks like it belongs and I am absolutely living for it.

I twirl around and beam at the two sisters. Both are standing there like proud mothers regarding their creation. Sure, it’s just some clothes, but I feel so powerful right now, it’s almost indescribable. Trust me, I’ve tried, I’m writing this book and I can’t think of a better way of phrasing it.

“Thank you.” I grin. “This… this feels so right.”

“From where I’m looking, I’m jealous,” Kara grins. “Now if you’re quite done preening, it’s time for the serious work.

“Lets do this.”

Opening my mouth here was a huge mistake on my part. Giving these two animals permission to use me as their fashion doll was undeniably fun, but dear god, they never stopped. During that morning, I think I tried on more clothes than I thought two girls could possibly own. Tops, skirts, pants, bras, nightwear and dresses. It’s quite literally a transgender girl’s dream come true. I would spend an entire chapter describing the feeling of the fabric in explicit detail or how the cut of the hem brushing against my thighs felt. What is it these stories always mention? Oh yes, how the gentle swell of my breasts in the cups of the bras heaved with each breath. Doesn’t quite work that way, but hell, you’ve read that frilliness in every other story. In this one, we have far bigger fish to fry.

After roughly two hours of changing in and out of various clothes, I had a nice pile of stuff that was being donated to the Holly collection. Yes, I know it sounds like I’m a famine in Africa, but hey, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. I’m modeling my favorite outfit of the bunch, just staring at myself in the mirror. It’s not even anything particularly amazing, but I feel like a billion dollars.

I’m wearing this stretchy navy blue long-sleeve top that has a wide sweeping scoop neck that shows off my collarbones and the top of my breasts without showing too much. It’s cropped and comes up to just an inch or two above my belly button. Below, I’m wearing this cream skater skirt with this chunky brown belt. Sure, it’s not some tiny miniskirt, but it swishes, and I really feel so pretty when I’m wearing it.

I have a bunch of bangles and rings on that the girls have donated to the cause and I’m just moving slightly in front of the mirror, enjoying the feeling of the skirt as it moves against my legs. The bangles are shifting on my wrists, clinking softly and my hair is loose and flowing around my shoulders. I feel like a princess and I am truly joyful for the first time in my life.

“You’re happy aren’t you?” Meg asks sliding up beside me.

I nod, still watching my hair move in the mirror. “Yeah, think I am.”

“There is no way you were meant to be a boy,” she murmurs, nudging me with her shoulder. “You, me and Kar, we’re no different. Sure you started out on a different path, but anyone would be a fool to see you differently.”

“Tell the world that,” I sigh, losing a little bit of the happiness I’d been savoring. “They might disagree with you.”

“I do hope they let you come to our school.” she continues, pointedly ignoring my bout of pessimism. “Kar and I will take care of you. Nobody fucks with our girl.”

I smile and hug her. “That’s everything to me, Megan.”

 

 

Walking home in girls' clothes, no, my new clothes, feels both liberating and terrifying. In time, I expect it will simply feel like walking home. Once, that idea seemed so very distant, but now, it feels like it’s just around the corner.

After we were done for the afternoon, Meg distracted Gary and her parents while Kara and I snuck out with the two bags of clothes they were donating to the New Girl charity. The CIA should really recruit us, we’re fantastic at keeping things secret.

Kara and Meg are walking with me and I’m so excited to see Mom and Rob when I get home. Just being here with my best friends feels like the most correct thing in the world. What really worries me is how I’m going to pack this away when I have to get back to school. They never include this in the trans stories, do they?

Caught up in the excitement of how I was feeling, I had almost forgotten that to the rest of the world, I was technically a boy. When the first car passed us, I sudden and crippling bout of panic. Irrationally, I was convinced against all odds that the driver would screach to a halt and proclaim me ‘boy’ at the top of his lungs. Picture the whole village assembling with pitchforks and flaming torches coming out to banish the freak, and you’ll have a reasonable idea of how my idiot mind was doing loops.

After a few cars passed and even some dog walkers I began to slowly relax. I didn’t ever mention this terror to the girls, because I didn’t want to appear silly. In my head, I knew how I looked, but a little part of me still told me that I was wrong. Call it internalized transphobia or just plain nerves, but It was scary.

Modern Day Holly here; Even twenty years later, and utterly convinced by all facts that nobody has a damn clue, I still occasionally feel this way. It makes no sense, but then, brain worms never do.

“You’re fine Hol, nobody could possibly tell,” Kara assures me, knowing exactly why I’m tense. “They see a girl when you dress as a boy, how could they even begin to see through your panties and work out you’re only a little different?”

“Ew see-through panties,” Megan giggles.

“Don’t be gross,” I join in, snickering at the idea. “Who would wear see-through panties?” wouldn’t the plastic be all sweaty anyway?”

By the time we turn the corner onto my street, we’ve become a gleefully galavanting giggling gaggle of gals. Yes, that alliteration does go hard, I do agree.

The walk is largely uneventful and we cover the distance in the usual few minutes, even walking slower and chatting. As we reach my house, however, I stop dead in my tracks. In the driveway ahead of me is Dad’s car; he’s home.

“Oh shit,”

“Your Dad?” Megan asks stopping beside me on the sidewalk. “He’s cool, right?”

“Apparently he is, but I’ve not exactly had a chance to find out for real.” I mutter. “I didn’t really want to dive in at the deep end in case he’s weird about this.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine. Your mom said they’ve both known for ages right?”

I shrug and frown. “That doesn’t stop it being scary.”

Kara grabs my hand and squeezes. “We’ll come with you to meet him then get out of your way, ok?” We’ll be there.”

I take a deep breath and we make our way up to the front door. My heart is thumping and I feel quite nauseous. Seem like an overreaction? Sure, it likely is, but when you’re in my shoes you see things very differently. To me, Mom and Rob’s acceptance and my happiness now could be totally undone by Dad saying no. If he rejects me, it might as well all be for naught. It’s irritating to be this negatively minded, but it’s how I learned to survive.

I unlock the door and tentatively make my way inside. We ditch my booty by the door and head through towards the kitchen where we can hear voices.

“Mom?”

“Honey, is that you?”

No time like the present, I guess. I steel my nerves and walk through the doorway into the kitchen to face the music.

“Hey, uh, I’m home.”

Dad is right there beside her at the counter with a glass of wine in his hand. I suppose I’d want a drink too if I was about to deal with my errant child’s gender fuckery.

I smile nervously and can feel sweat beading along my hairline, “uh, hey Dad.”

He just looks at me, there’s no judgment, theres no anger or pride or sadness. He just looks at me. It’s almost like he’s trying to take in every detail of my appearance like we’ve never met. To this day, I’ve yet to find the courage to ask what he saw that first day. When his child came home dressed like a teenage girl. A girl that looked indistinguishable from her friends. Was it the death of his son, or the birth of his daughter?

“Alex? Is that you?”

“Michael, it’s Holly, we discussed this.”

Dad shakes his head like’s clearing a fog. “Are you ok? How are you feeling?”

Well, it’s a good thing he remembers that I got the crap knocked out of me at least. That it’s top of his list of questions over ‘why are you wearing a skirt’ means a lot, I suppose.

“I feel fine Dad, honest. The back of my head’s a little sore still, I have a few stitches, but I’ll live.”

“I swear, if that school doesn’t…” he trails off, and I can see him clenching his fists. I’ve seen my Dad angry before, but never clenched his fists and wanted to hit something angry.

He looks up and seems to spot Meg and Kara standing awkwardly beside me. “You’re…Holly’s friends, right?” he asks uncertainly. “Thank you for, ah, being there for…her.”

“No problem Mister Winters” Kara offers. She turns to me and squeezes my arm. “We’ll get out of here, good luck girl, you got this.”

I give her a quick hug and watch my backup leave. They did the hard bit and got me in the door. Now, the rest is on me.

Rob joins us in the kitchen, sensing it’s time for the family pow wow and I turn to face the music.

“So…”

“Yes!” Mom agrees. “Now seems as good a time as any, so off to the living room you lot, I’m not doing this standing up.”

“Can I have a beer?” Rob asks, “I feel like I’m going to need a drink.”

“Nice try Robert,” Mom chides, “you’ll manage, I’m sure.”

Rob’s dejected theatrics make me giggle a little and I know he’s playing up to lighten the mood, I appreciate that.

In the living room, we all find a spot to sit. We have a couple of sofas so I end up sitting beside Mom, while Rob and Dad sit across from us. I feel like we already made a pretty big statement by doing that, and I’m positive that it’s Mom’s express intention.

“So, I’ll start, shall I?” she begins, looking around at everyone. “Obviously Chrissie isn’t here, talking to her will be your job, darling.”

I nod, I was going to do that later, depending on how this afternoon went. “Dad,” I start, looking across at my father. “I’m really sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” he frowns.

I sigh, “I was never the son you wanted me to be, I’m not like Rob. I couldn’t… I guess now you know why.”

Dad shakes his head. “I should be the one apologizing to you, kiddo; I kept pushing you towards sports and trying to get you to do more manly things. Taking you hunting, fishing, those father-son weekends. I was trying to relate to you the way I did with Rob and I can see that wasn’t what you needed.”

“I appreciated it though,” I smile gently. “I do like spending time with you even if I was always just sitting in the boat reading while you fished.”

He smiles back and I feel safe knowing that he truly loves me. He might not know how to relate to me for the moment, but I can sense his love. I suddenly feel rather foolish that I ever doubted them.

“I didn’t expect things to come out this way,” I admit, going for the main topic. “I suppose I was afraid of what you would all think of me. I had planned to wait until college and then…well, my plans sucked.”

“We were more worried that you were hurt darling,” Mom admits. “After that, this all didn’t seem quite so important.”

“But it is,” I reassert, looking at them all in turn, “it is important.”

I stand up and I stand before all three of them and hold out my hands beside me. “This is who I am, I won’t demand anything, but I really need to be myself. If I have to wait until college, then so be it. I’ll go upstairs now and change clothes and pretend to be Alex until I graduate if I have to. The truth is, it would be pretending; I’m not Alex, not him.”

“I’d really like to be allowed to live as myself, as Holly, if you would allow me to. I know it’s a lot to ask, and I know it’s not what you had planned for me, but it’s what I have to do. This isn’t new or a change; this is who I’ve always been. I’m the same person and I think and feel and react exactly how I always have.”

Mom stands up and hugs me as the tears start falling down my cheeks. I pretty much stress vented my entire opening argument and I’m not sure what I have left in the tank. I know it must be frustrating to you the reader to see me being so wildly bipolar, but from my perspective at the time, it was still very much all to play for. My life was up in the air and I didn’t know what the next day would bring. The last few days had drained me dry and I was operating largely on hope and caffeine.

“We wouldn’t dream of making you wait until college, Holly.” Mom answers softly. “Everyone here, we are a family. We love you and we want you to be happy. It’s going to be a difficult road but it’s one we’ll take together… once you’ve told Chrissie, that is.”

Oh yes, sister at college in Chicago, that’s going to be a fun phone call.

She continues. “Your father and I have suspected this for a long time and we’ve known for long enough to know we both just want our child, our daughter,” she continues looking over at Dad, “to be happy.”

“It’s going to be a difficult road, Holly.” Dad agrees. “I love you unconditionally; never question that. Is it a surprise to see my youngest child before me looking like the spitting image of her mother? Yes, it’s quite a surprise. Does it suit you? Absolutely.”

I think that’s the sweetest thing he’s ever said to me.

I walk over and I reach out towards him, taking his hands as he offers them. “I love you, Dad. I’m sorry I couldn’t be Alex, that I couldn’t be a boy..”

“Just don’t cost me as much as Chrissie.” he chuckles softly, a silly smile on his face.

“Actually, given the medical treatments required, she’s going to cost you more.” Mom offers unhelpfully.

Dad’s face does a weird series of contortions as he calculates what I’m going to cost him. I think now might be a bad time to ask about a prom dress, maybe when I’m thirty.

Mom guides me back over to the sofa and sits me down. “I’m glad we have that sorted; it allows us to move on to far more important issues, like how we move forward from here.”

“Do you mean like school?” I ask tentatively.

She nods. “School specifically, but life in general. I think it goes without saying that we’re all in agreement that she can live as herself going forward. What’s going to matter most is how we approach school and proper medical care.”

“Like a psychiatrist?”

She nods, “A Gender specialist specifically. I’m going to make some calls and see what we can set up.”

“Are you seriously expecting her to go back to school as a boy?” Rob asks, speaking for the first time. “I know she’s not really changed that much since last week, but I don’t think I can see her that way anymore.”

Mom shrugs, “She may have to initially, Robert, but that will depend on the school. We’ll arrange a meeting and we’ll talk to them about what they would want to do and make a plan. She might need to go to an entirely new school.”

“Like public highschool?” I ask uncertainly. It would be scary being alone without any friends at all.

Mom makes a face. “I’d rather not, but we will see. I assume if we can, you’d want to join Megan and Kara?”

I nod, “I really do. I know my status would be known, but I can almost live with the idea, knowing I have friends. Enough in my life is changing already without an entirely new school to handle.”

“I’ll look after you, sis.” Rob offers. “If you have to come back to our school, I’ve got you.”

“I’ve managed so far,” I opine. “They see what they want to see and it’s not been too bad.”

“I don’t think we’ll have any Brandon-shaped problems.” Rob scowls. “The team’s on your side there.”

“They probably wouldn’t be if they knew that I was sat here like this.”

Rob chuckles. “I don’t know, I think more than most would be ok with you, somehow.”

“So the plan,” Mother interjects, “is for you to take the week off to ensure there are no lasting effects of the concussion. We will make an appointment to see the principal.”

“Now would be ideal,” Dad offers. “With the attack, they’ll be bending over backward to accommodate us, so bringing up our second issue at the same time would be beneficial.”

“You think that they will be more likely to work with us?” Mom asks.

He nods. “They’re partially liable and whenever ambulances end up rushing students off campus, there’s PR to manage and parents to appease. Keeping us happy would be in their best interest, especially if we frame it as for her safety.”

I feel like an asset in a merger, but I know that Dad knows his stuff when it comes to lawyers, deals, and leaning on companies. If he thinks he has a way of making the school do what we want, I’m down for it.

Sitting here with my family while we discuss my future is a surreal experience. I’m dressed like any other teenage girl and my family knows. They’re calling me she and her and using my real name. I know it’s partly the estrogen, but I keep wanting to burst into happy tears. Who would have guessed that getting my ass beat would have ended up being this good for me?

I’m ok with the idea of going back to school as Alex in the short term. I know that it’s only temporary and I won’t have to hide myself at home. Would I like to go straight to the Girl's School after my week off is up? Sure, but that’s just not realistic, unfortunately.

What does the future hold? This week at least, it’s going to be meetings and doctors and Principals. I’ll have my family behind me, so let’s see what happens. For the first time in my life, I’m cautiously optimistic about the future. Holly Winters will have a life, but it’s going to require some careful steps first.

Oh, I do enjoy living in a minefield.

 

 

I was getting ready for bed later that evening while I pondered one of the most consequential days in my life so far. Anyone who tells you emotional exhaustion is any less wearing than physical has clearly never experienced it.

I was brushing my teeth in the master bathroom of the Winters family home wearing a pair of silk shortie pajamas that Meg had donated to the cause. I wasn’t hiding who I was, nor was I afraid of the future anymore. My parents loved me, my brother loved me and we had a plan for the future where I might actually get to live my life as the girl I knew that I was truly meant to be.

Is this the end of the espresso depresso segment of the novel? Yes, yes it is. I cannot begin to describe the relief I felt that evening. I felt lighter, I felt freer than I ever have in my young life. I felt safe and I felt seen; that is a far better drug than caffeine.

“Are you heading to bed, honey?” Mom calls, sticking her head around the door.

I nod, rinsing out my mouth. “Mhm, I’m early done.”

She smiles and stands there leaning against the door jam while I finish up. “You’re very pretty darling, I don’t think I’ve had a chance to say that yet.”

I blush bright red. I mean, this is new territory for me; being complimented on my feminine features. “Thanks, Mom.”

She gestures at my loose hair. “Do you want me to braid that for you before you go to bed?”

I nod and smile, “Yeah, that would be nice.”

Mom steps in behind me, and I watch in the mirror as she takes my hair and begins weaving it into a braid behind my head.

“Is this weird for you still?” I ask quietly.

She shakes her head. “No, I suppose it’s actually something I’ve been looking forward to. Once I came to terms with who you really were, I think I started to dream of being able to do the things I did with Chrissie, with you too. Although, that did depend on you letting us know who you were. I had started to worry that you wouldn’t come to me.”

“I was so scared Mom,” I murmur sadly. “I hoped you’d be ok with me, but I just… I was so afraid of the worst case that it became my obsession. I suffered for so long with the world telling me how wrong these feelings were, how it was sinful and disgusting it was to feel this way.”

Mom smiles sadly over my shoulder as she braids my hair. “I cannot begin to imagine how that felt for you, baby. The truth is that you have me now, and you always will. I will always love you and I won’t let anyone hurt you.” she smiles.

As she finishes my hair, she turns me around and kisses me on the forehead. “I love you Holly Juliette Winters. Now no more dallying; boy or girl, you’ve still got a bedtime.”

Parents; you love them, but they still have to go and slap down the law like that. Being a teenager has its drawbacks, I guess. Just this once, I skip out on the angsty response and comply dutifully. She’s earned a fair few parental air miles over the last few days, so I think I can give her this one… but just this one, mind; I’m still a teenager after all.

 

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Taking time off school when you aren’t technically sick is fantastic, especially when you have parental consent. As a child you don’t think about the ramifications like, homework or catching up, you merely enjoy the delicious freedom and deal with the consequences later.

Mom, true to her word had taken the week off so we could spend the time together. On the surface, I’m still feeling a little guilty at taking her away from the hospital, but deep down I’m overjoyed to have my Mom here with me.

Waking up that morning felt like I was waiting up on the first day of the rest of my life. Here I was, lying in my bed in silky girls’ pajamas with hair that was braided by my mother and it was entirely normal. It’s hard to put a definition on feeling so utterly free.

If you expected me to awaken like a delicate Princess in a cartoon movie then you are, in fact, quite wrong. I woke up face first in my pillow, one boob having made a bid for freedom from the pajama’s cami top and the shorts stuck halfway up my asscrack. Delicate Snow White, I am not.

Finally kicking myself out of bed, I pulled a robe over my pajamas and stumbled downstairs to grab myself a coffee and perform the necromantic arts of raising the dead. I might be starting an entirely new and joyous chapter of my life, but I’m a teenager, so that doesn’t make waking up any easier.

By the time I get downstairs, Mom is already reading at the kitchen island. Somehow she’s already dressed and perfect despite the ungodly hour of nine, I have no idea how adults do it. Spotting me, she smiles. “Hey sweetie, did you sleep ok?”

“Smdfmfj” I mumble as I pass her. “Coffee.”

She chuckles and waits for me to get a cup before joining her at the island.

“I figured we could hit the mall today and perhaps a couple of outlets. That way we can grab some basics and get started on some day-to-day wear for you. Makeup, shoes,” she shrugs, “that sort of thing. Does that sound ok?”

Greedily slurping the dark elixir, I feel a pang of guilt. “I do feel bad about you guys spending more money on me, Mom. I got a bunch of good stuff from Kara and Megan, we don’t have to go crazy. Especially after you told Dad how much my doctors are going to cost us.”

Mom rolls her eyes, “Never mind what I tell your father, and don't worry about the money. We can afford it, and you deserve it, ok?”

I don’t really feel like arguing, but I do feel somewhat responsible. I’ll just have to be more reserved later and she can just lump her new frugal daughter.

“I can see that look,” Mommy dearest indicates. “No refusals today, I’m spoiling you and you have no say in the matter.”

I sigh, “Yes, Mother”

“God, you and Chrissie are the exact same.” she moans theatrically. “Just promise you won’t be such a primadonna?”

“That might be difficult,” I admit, trying to conceal a grin, “but I promise to try.”

Think this all sounds far too quick and efficient? Try having a doctor at a major metropolitan hospital for a parent. Efficiency, planning and results are a fact of life. Honestly, at this stage of events, I was largely along for the ride. Once my Mom got the idea into her head, it was full steam ahead solving the issue.

After breakfast, I head back upstairs to dress for the day ahead. I barely have a fashion sense, but I am aware that if we’re going shopping, that will mean plenty of changing. Keeping it simple in the wardrobe department is likely to be a good start.

This rules out dresses and anything too tight. In the end after trying on far too many things, I settled on a denim mini, a white tank, and a pair of Rans sneakers that look neutral enough to wear still. With a couple of bracelets and a ring I like, I grab my zipfront hoodie and head back downstairs to find my Mom.

The one thing I didn’t get much of from the girls was footwear. Fun fact? Turns out my feet are smaller than both Kara and Megan. That meant that beyond a pair of sandals that are kinda decent, I’m stuck with my existing shoes until we change that. What? Did you expect me in skyscraper heels on my first day out? Get a grip.

Mom is in the kitchen waiting for me when I get back downstairs and she tuts the second I arrive. Apparently, I’m not presentable enough for her lofty standards. Given that this is my like, second full day as a girl, I think I have a fair excuse.

Why is it in so many trans stories, the protagonist is a perfect little lady the second she’s allowed to express herself? Makeup and hair talents suitable for salon stylists right off the bat, who can even do that? I do wish to remind the court that most teenage girls look like they wet their faces and headbutted Sephora when they go out… experts we are not.

Mom pulls my hair back into a ponytail and gives me a lecture on why I shouldn’t be using the hair ties I’ve been using my entire childhood and should in fact, stick to scrunchies instead; less damage apparently.

“Now I really shouldn’t,” she mutters digging through her bag. “I’m sure we’re both fine this one time but girl rule two; don’t share makeup. It can transfer infections and it’s just not hygienic. We’ll get you your own later, but for now, we’ll just bend the rules a tiny bit, hmm?”

I will admit that the idea of wearing makeup is exciting. I did a little experimenting with Meg and Kara, but it was kinda limited during our massive fashion party. Mom, being an adult has a lot more experience and it really shows. Within a minute or two, I’ve been slapped with some mascara, liner, and a little gloss. It’s not much, but a quick look in the hallway mirror shows me a pretty average-looking teen girl and her mom. I won’t lie, it still feels like I’m dreaming whenever I see myself now.

 

 

Rather than going to our local mall where the chance of running into people we might know exists, we’ve driven forty-five minutes across town to a different one. In the grand scheme of things, a mall is a mall; they’re all basically the same, so it doesn’t really matter. This also saves me from describing it to you in excruciating detail. If you don’t know what a mall looks like, put down the trans fiction and go touch some grass, don’t worry, I’ll wait.

As I get out of the car, my phone starts ringing. By muscle memory, I reach for the pocket of my jeans and find both my phone and jeans missing. After a second, my brain catches up with reality and I dive into my handbag to try to locate the darn thing before whoever it is hangs up.

Ah yes, I forgot to mention that part; I have a handbag now. It’s this small brown leather bag on a long strap that Mom gave me after we went to leave the house and she realized I had nowhere to put anything. I swear, if I wasn’t positive that I was female, I’d point out that I kinda suck at being a girl so far.

Rick’s name is on the screen, so I accept the call and put it to my ear.

“Hi?”

“Alex? Hey, you never got back to me the other day. I was hoping you were ok after what happened...”

Rats, I forgot to call him back with everything that happened. “Oh, god, I’m sorry. A lot’s been happening (Understatement) and I got distracted, what with hospital and stuff.”

“I was worried,” he admits over the line. I can hear people yelling in the background so I figure based on it being mid-morning he’s likely outside during a break.

“Yeah, they were worried about concussions and stuff. Look, thank you.” I offer as we walk towards the front entrance of the mall. “Rob said you dove in to help and I really appreciate it. From what the doctors, said you might have saved my life.”

“Jesus, Alex, I’m sorry,” Rick sighs. “They suspended him for what happened, and Coach booted his ass off the team too; this was a major last straw.”

“Good riddance,” I growl. “The guy was a pig.”

“Rob said your mom was keeping you off school this week. If you wanted, well, if you felt up to it that is; I thought maybe you might wanna hang out sometime?”

Do I? Yes, I really do, but I’m also nervous about spending time with him, and now I have the added concern about letting my life outside of school accidentally blend with the one in.

“Uh, yeah, maybe. I’ll have to check with my Mom,” I defer. “I’ll let you know. Hey look, I gotta run ok? Talk soon bye!”

I hang up before he can answer and I feel a little guilty but I needed out of that conversation fast.

“Was that the boy that you like?” Mom freaking mindreads.

“How did you?”

“Know?” she chuckles as we head into the cavernous interior of the mall. “Your voice went up half an octave when you answered the phone and you were smiling during the entire conversation sweetheart. You think I don’t know the signs?”

“I mean, I don’t want to…” I grumble. “We’re just friends, we have to just be friends.”

Mom squeezes my arm lovingly, “I know darling, but that doesn’t prevent you from liking someone. Believe me, sometimes trying harder to not like them is worse.”

“Don’t you find this a little weird?” I ask uncertainly. “We’ve spoken more about my feelings since…well since I came out than I have in my entire life.”

Mom shakes her head. “Darling, mothers and daughters talk about these things, so it’s totally normal. Are you asking if it’s weird that we’re talking about a boy that you like?” No, if it’s so easy for me to see you as my daughter, then the idea of her liking a boy isn’t that unusual at all.”

“It is for me,” I admit sheepishly. “I don’t know how to feel about it.”

“What do Megan and Kara say?”

I shrug and stuff my hands in my sweater pockets. “That its completely normal and expected because my brain is full of hormones and I’m meant to be boy-crazy.”

Mom chuckles to herself, “I wouldn’t say crazy but yes, that’s the gist of it. I was too at that age if I’m honest with myself.”

“You were?”

She nods, “I had my fair share of crushes, although I admit you’re in a somewhat different position than I was, sweetheart.”

I stopped walking suddenly as the words hit me. “It’s different for me because I’m not a real girl?”

Mom stops and quickly wraps me in a hug before kissing my forehead. “No, baby, I would never ever say that. Never let anyone tell you that you’re not real or valid; you’re my daughter and I love you. What I meant is that I wasn’t locked in a school full of boys as the only girl.”

“Sorry,” I snuffle. “I guess I’m a little sensitive at the moment.”

“You have every reason to be,” Mom smiles, stroking my hair. “Come on, let’s go get you sorted eh?”

Walking through the mall, I take the opportunity to stare openly at dresses and clothes for the first time. Displays that I’ve cast furtive glances at in the past are now entirely open to my attention without feeling like an alarm will suddenly sound. I feel truly liberated for the first time in my life and it’s almost a sensory overload.

As we’re passing one shop, a dress catches my eye and I stop walking to get a better look at it; I can do that now, it’s allowed. Mom glances at it too. “You’d look beautiful in that, do you want to try it on?”

“I don’t need to buy it.” I reply, “But I’d love to.”

“Benefits of womanhood,” Mom grins. “We never need to, but we want to.”

We head inside the store and I find the rack of dresses that match the model in the window. The dress is gorgeous: It’s a beautiful black with an almost white speckled pattern that looks like stars on an inky black sky. It’s got a peasant bodice with a tight-fitted waist with some boning like a corset. The skirt is poofy and flirty and comes to about mid-thigh, judging by the mannequin. It’s giving goth lolita vibes and it looks so damn adorable. Truthfully, it’s the sort of dress I’ve looked at secretly for so very long.

Mom eyeballs me for size and hands me three. “This should fit, but here’s either side of the size. You’ll never really be sure what will fit. Rule fifty-nine of womanhood; sizes don’t mean crap.”

“What? Like, two, four, six, why have them?”

Mom rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well, they’re a good guide, a rough indicator, but you have to try everything on. Sizes are all over the place in womens fashion. Some are bigger so you feel skinnier and buy more stuff, some go down, and some just plain don’t make sense. Being a woman is complicated.”

“Sounds it,” I grin as we arrive at the changing rooms. “I. uh…”

Mom spots my hesitation and smiles before guiding me gently to one side. Giving me a quick hug she lowers her voice so the attendant doesn’t overhear us. “You’ll be doing this a lot today darling, trust me, you have nothing to fear. Cubicles are generally single person and nobody will even begin to worry that you’re not what you seem. It’s ok.”

I know she’s right, academically, but it doesn’t stop me feeling like I’m suddenly invading as I present the dresses to the attendant and she hands me a tag with a three on it. When she lets me pass, I feel suddenly hyper-aware that I’m in a specifically female-only space and endeavor to see nothing that I’m not supposed to.

Fun fact about women's changing rooms; there’s nothing really to see inside them that you can’t see outside on the shop floor. The interior is plain and functional with rows of cubicles along either side. As I walk cautiously into this sacred space, no alarms sound and nobody screams. There’s one or two women coming and going and not a single one of them pays me any sort of attention. It’s rather anticlimactic actually.

I slip into an empty cubicle and hang up the dresses before slipping out of my clothes. Mom handed me a two, a four, and a six in Juniors' sizes. This means very little to me at the moment but with misses, juniors, petite, womens', and tall, it’s all bloody stupid if you ask me.

The first dress is way too big and I return it to its hangar before trying the four instead. This time, it’s a far better fit. I manage to eventually zip it closed after much contortion and twisting and turning to regard myself in the mirror.

“Woah.”

The girl in the mirror is super cute and I’m struggling to comprehend that I am she. The boning in the dress accentuates my waist and the full skirt pops out giving me a way more shape than I thought I actually had. Sure, I’m not wearing much makeup, but I can imagine how I’d look with more on.

“You ok in there darling?”

I slide the latch and open the door to find Mom hovering outside expectantly. The look on her face when she sees me is everything I could have hoped for. She gasps quietly and her eyes look suddenly dewy. Her hands fly to her mouth, “darling, my gosh, you look gorgeous.”

“Is it ok?” I tug nervously at the hem, hoping suddenly that it was longer.

Mom slips inside the changing cubicle and closes the door behind her. Without even waiting she starts checking the fit and adjusting the dress. “This really does look lovely on you, we have to buy this.”

“What happened to just essentials?”

Mom rolls her eyes. “Holly, this is perfect; you’ve got a little room to grow in this and it looks beautiful on you, sometimes you will learn you just have to buy something and this is one of those occasions.”

“Does it really look nice? It’s not too short, is it?”

Mom gives me a look and shakes her head. “Sure, it’s a little much for church, but we don’t go and you’re sixteen years old; I think it’s lovely. Now get changed so we can go buy it.”

I pondered what she meant for a moment and realized she wasn’t planning on leaving. Welp, there’s a first for everything I suppose. If I’m girl enough for Megan and Kara, I’m girl enough for my Mom I guess. Before I could chicken out, I unzipped the dress and slipped it off.

Mom gasped, but it wasn’t a ‘oh god, I just saw a man go through a band saw’ type of gasp. Rather, her eyes were suddenly wide with surprise as she took in my body. Her face changed from shock to love to sadness as she regarded me. Reaching out, she stroked my cheek softly.

“Oh baby, you’re so beautiful. I knew, but I had no idea darling. I simply had no idea how very much you were hiding.” she murmurs, “how the heck didn’t I see this?”

“I was working hard to hide it,” I admit with a shrug, standing there awkwardly in my underwear.

Mom smirks and adjusts my bra strap. “Not so well, if I’m honest, but I struggled to admit it to myself too.”

Bashful at my state of undress, I pull my skirt up and button it closed. “Yeah, I’m only just starting to learn how sucky I was.” I pause and remember something. “You know, that time we were grocery shopping and you told me the lady said that I had such beautiful hair?”

Mom thinks for a moment and then nods. “Yes, the deli counter right?”

I smile as I pull my top back on. “You told me she said my hair was beautiful, but I actually heard her say ‘Your daughter’s hair is so beautiful, it’s a shame she dresses like such a tomboy.”

Mom froze for a second and looked at me. “You actually heard that?”

“Yeah, and I cherished every time someone called me your daughter.”

Mom doesn’t say anything, but simply wraps me in her arms and holds me tight. “You are my daughter, Holly, for now and forever.”

And thus began my first-ever shopping adventure with my mother. I have to say, I was absolutely overwhelmed by the experience. There was so very much that I simply didn’t know. What clothes suited my body, what colors were flattering, or how to style certain clothes. What worked best to mix and match together and what could be a staple item across multiple outfits.

Given that my mother is a cardiologist who spends most of her career in scrubs, she has an amazing eye for fashion and an encyclopedic knowledge of how it all works. Honestly, I’m a teenager, and we’re not easily impressed. Is it likely to replace my best friend's lofty opinions? No, but it certainly gets me started in ways I never imagined that I might.

I would describe trying on bras, jeans, skirts, and tops in vivid and nauseating detail if it wasn’t something you hadn’t already read a billion times before, so why beat a dead horse? I can safely tell you that by lunchtime, we had already made one trip out to the car after viciously assaulting the department stores. Somehow I had managed to have energy for that marathon and I was actually still enthusiastic by the time we collapsed into a booth in the food court a little after twelve.

“It won’t always be like this,” Mom sighed gratefully as she managed to take the load off her feet for the first time that morning. “Be glad we only need to build a life for you once.”

“I don’t think I could handle your ram raid approach,” I giggled, sipping the huge coke I needed to rebuild my strength. “I’m pretty sure you just made that sales girl’s Christmas bonus back in Northgroms.”

Mom grins and I see a glimpse of the woman behind the mother for a moment. It’s funny how I didn’t really see Veronica Winters as a living breathing woman until we started interacting as mother and daughter. I think it actually makes me love her even more. Is that how sons are with fathers?

“I think we got a lot of the basics you’ll need to get you started, honey. Next, it’s shoes and makeup then we can probably call today quits.”

“I’m glad I won’t have to do this again,” I sigh. “It’s exhausting.”

Mom smiles, “When you’re just looking or hanging out with friends you’ll have a lot more fun. Heck, maybe your dear old mother might share a trip every now and then.”

“I’d like that, Mom, I really would. I can’t explain it, but ever since this all came to a head, I’ve felt so much closer to you.”

She smiles and nods. She doesn’t need to reply. It’s been a handful of days but my world has shifted more totally than transition alone could possibly manage. I think the best way for me to describe it, is a freedom derived almost entirely from living the truth. Secrets hold us back, they disconnect us from people we care about. We lock ourselves down so that we don’t slip and get caught or uncovered. By living honestly, by experiencing that simple truth, I received a clarity unlike any other.

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, baby.”

We chat about inconsequential nothings over lunch. It’s honestly wonderful to just relax and talk with my mother without any pressure piling down on top of us. As we’re real women and not fictional cute lil balls of femininity, we had sandwiches; we ain’t afraid of no carbs! Well, I wasn’t until I turned thirty, but that’s another story.

Once we’re done, Mom sets off on a mission to find me shoes. From her perspective, my slightly worn Rans are only suitable for casual attire and mooching around. As such, according to Mater, I must possess four staples to start my journey to shoeageddon. Firstly, the humble sandal; it's comfortable and practical and works with most things. Second, the ballet flat; whether I dance or not, is up to me but these are apparently ‘timeless’ and comfortable whilst maintaining style. Third, the ankle boot; this pair has a small but fairly chunky heel giving me a little height and some winter warmth while remaining practical and grippy. The fourth and final shoe for Cinderella is currently on my foot, and I’m more than a little nervous; the high heel.

The shoes in question are a pair of pretty black slingback pumps. They’ve got a patent finish and look rather snazzy. The heel is a three-inch spike waiting to dump me on my butt the second I let my guard down.

“Black will be a great choice for a first pair because it will work with most outfits,” Mom continues as she attaches the other torture device to my foot. “Comfy?”

“I suppose,” I admit, wiggling my foot. “Sitting down.”

“Get up then and walk to the far wall and back.” she indicates, crossing her arms.

I’m pretty sure that this is a trap, but I’m determined to walk away without injury. I hold my head up high, straighten my back and I put one foot in front of the other like I’ve seen models do on TV. I take my first tentative footsteps in a pair of high heels with my mother proudly watching on; it’s the dream of every transgender girl in history… right up until I prompt faceplant into a display of Birkencrocs.

“Oh god, are you ok?”

“I can taste practical sandal,” I complain. “That shoe went one way and I went the other.”

Mom chuckles to herself. “They are a little tricky, although I did enjoy the newborn gazelle act though before you hit the floor.”

I look up at her with a less-than-amused look on my face. “Yeah, I practiced in the mirror before we came out here.”

Mom offers me her hand and I haul myself upright again. “Weight on the balls of your feet, ok?”
I nod and attempt to balance again, this time, my fawnish wobble is kept to a minimum and I manage to stand freely atop the torture devices.

“Butt out, chest forward, head upright, and feet forward with a slight outward angle.” Mother instructs, still with a shit-eating grin on her face; she’s enjoying every moment of this, I can tell.

Slowly but surely I take my first and then second steps in high heels. It’s not pretty, I won’t win any runway contests, but the advice is solid. Slowly but surely I reach the other side of the room and turn to face her.

“Rubbing?”

I shake my head, “They feel ok, I’m mostly afraid of my ankles snapping.”

She smirks and nods. “You get used to that.”

I walk tentatively back towards her and stop. “Not bad, I can feel a pull in my arch.”

She nods. “Yup, you get used to that too. You can wear them at home and get used to them. Before long you’ll be running in them!”

“Run? In these? I don’t want to spend more time in hospital.”

Mom smiles as I sit and start taking the shoes off. “When I was a girl, my friends and I were quite adept at running in heels. Soon, you won’t even think about it, sweetheart.”

I slip my Rans back on and make a face. “I have so much to catch up on.”

“It’s not beyond the realm of possibility that I didn't let you wear heels till sixteen. Odd, but not outside plausibility.”

Mom and I carry the boxes across to the cashier’s desk and pay for our bounty. I cringe at the price but keep my word and say nothing. Mom wants to treat me, so I’ll let her, but I refuse to expect these sorts of things.

“I’d love to get your ears pierced darling, but until we know what’s happening with school I think it would be ill-advised.”

“Too many dominoes,” I agree.

Mom raises an eyebrow so I proceed to explain. “The way I keep myself under the radar; dominoes. Any one thing isn’t enough for people to spot me, but if I go over a threshold of girlish features or behaviors then they see it. The goal is to push down enough feminine behaviors or features until the sum total falls under that line; too many dominoes and they all fall over.”

Mom shakes her head. “The fact you’ve had to live this secret life hiding who you are breaks my heart, Holly. I should have come to you about this sooner, I should have told you it was ok.”

“No, you were right; I had to reach that point myself,” I admit with a frown. “The problem was that I had come to terms with myself a long time ago. There was no doubt, Mom, none.”

Her look is almost pained as I explain how my life until this point was.

“That knowledge, it burned; society told me I was wrong and that I shouldn’t exist, it told me you’d hate me. Because of that, I hid.”

“I am so sorry,” Mom offers quietly. “I’m sorry you had to hold this all in. It shouldn’t be this way.”

“Alas, it is.” I sigh.

“You sound old beyond your years baby.”

I squeeze her hand as we walk back towards the car. “I think maybe I am. I had to grow up fast, or I would never have survived long enough for the world to see me properly.”

 

 

The Friday afternoon that week, my parents had a meeting scheduled with my Principal, Mister Gardener. Ostensibly, it was to discuss the attack that landed my ass in the hospital and go over the school’s response and my return. What Veggie Garden (Our nickname for our ignoble leader) didn’t know, was that my parents planned to drop the ‘surprise, you have a mixed gender school after all’ topic in there too. It was all part of Dad’s strategy to strike while the iron was hot and in this case, feeling rather guilty. When a paying customer lands in the hospital on their watch, they tend to panic.

They had both left a little after two and I’d mostly spent the morning listening to music and organizing my wardrobe. You try sorting out an entire new wardrobe quickly; it doesn’t happen.

Now I can imagine you think Mom and I spent thousands of dollars and bought me an entirely new wardrobe so that I could confidently start my life as a teenage girl with something for every occasion. A lovely thought, but you would be entirely wrong. We bought a good broad selection, but it was just a start. Coupled with what I’d gotten from Kara and Meg, I had a decent base to work from, but not much more. I would certainly need to shop more often, but that was something I looked forward to doing in my own time.

I was lying on my bed reading a textbook when a little after three my phone started to ring. Rolling over, I pick the device up and answer, fully expecting it to be Meg or Kara coming home from school.

“Heeey, sup?”

“Alex, is that you?” a male voice asks uncertainly.

Gerk.

“Uh, um, yes, it’s me, what’s up dude?” I butch myself up immediately as I recognize Rick’s voice.

“Are you ok?” he asks uncertainly.

I hurriedly jab the CD player’s stop button (Yes, CD players were our main source of music back then and yes I have been raiding Chrissie’s music collection now I’m allowed to listen to girly pop; sue me.)

“Oh me? No, I’m great, just chilling out you know? I’m basically fine now, Mom is being over cautious but that’s parents am I right? I’m just at home relaxing, not much to do, you know?”

“Cool, I’m just leaving school now so I’ll swing by then if that’s ok? I want to catch up and this week, well, it started out weird… look I’ll explain when I get there ok, Alex? Good, I’ll see you then.”

He hangs up without waiting for my response. This is partly my fault as I did dodge him at the start of the week and other than a phone call, I’ve been avoiding him even after he was one of the guys that saved me from the idiotsaurus. It’s not very grateful of me and I think he might have noticed.

I hate behaving like this because I really like the guy. This isn’t just the teen hormones talking, I like him as a person and I feel horrible for hiding. The truth is, that after our day out went a bit weird,I didn’t want to confuse him further. Why is my life so darn difficult?

I glance around my room and spot the sea of girl stuff and panic. I look down at my bare legs and my painted toenails and panic even more. Oh shit, emergency!

By the time Rick arrives, a whirling dervish has flown around the room stuffing things into wardrobes and cupboards and hiding as much of the girly stuff as I possibly can. Mom might kill me for not hanging some tops up, but I can always iron them later.

I unbraided my hair and retied it in my regular low guys' ponytail. I cleaned my fingernails of polish and changed into jeans, a tight sports bra and a sweater in time for the bell to ring downstairs.

Skidding to a halt, I take a second to breathe before opening the door. Rick is waiting and he’s still gorgeous, damnit.

“Hey,” he smiles. “ How are you doing? I’m sorry I didn’t stick around on the phone earlier, but I figured we could just hang out and relax. There’s no need to do anything too crazy with you being walking wounded.”

I deflate, beaten by thoughtfulness. I felt horrible icing him out earlier in the week and I got so caught up in my girl drama since the attack that I really didn’t think about the guy that helped to save me.

“I’m sorry,” I offer quietly, looking at the floor.

“I can’t come in?” he asks uncertainly.

I shake my head. “No not that, sure, come on in. What I mean is, I’m sorry for being a bi…astard this week. I iced you out at the start of the week because I thought that I did something wrong Friday and didn’t want to make things worse.”

“You did nothing wrong,” he replies firmly. “I get it, but you don’t need to say sorry, Alex.”

I don’t know how to feel right now, my brain isn’t working properly. We’re standing here in the entrance hall of my home awkwardly not getting any closer to each other. I saw his hands twitch like he was going to initiate a hug but seemed to think better of it. God this is an awful idea.

“Do you want a drink or something?” I offer weakly to break the deadlock.

He nods and follows me through to the kitchen. Right now I’ll take anything to distract me from the awkwardness of the moment.

“How are you feeling? I was really worried when… you know,” he prompts.

I look across at him and shrug neutrally, “Yeah, I don’t remember a lot of what happened, but I’m ok, I think; No lasting damage at least.”

I hand Rick a soda and stay where I am with the kitchen island between us. “Thank you for stopping him.”

Rick’s expression darkens and I see his fists clench. “Yeah, the teachers had to pull me off that asshole. I nearly killed him, but I wasn’t alone there.”

“I don’t know when to quit,” I chuckle darkly.

Rick cracks half a smile. “Yeah, something like that. He deserved it really, that guy’s a douche.”

“I’ll be back in school Monday, I think. Mom is being overly cautious about concussions.”

“That sounds fair, she is a doctor,” he points out. “I’m glad though, I really missed you this week, Alex.”

Fuck this, I’ma put us back on even ground.

“Thank you for being my friend Rick, I’m sorry I’ve been weird about things. I’m still trying to get over this paranoia that people always want something from me. I made the weekend a bit odd then I took it out on you by avoiding you afterwards. Look, I appreciate you, ok?”

He seems to relax when I take charge of defusing the tension between us. I think he was looking for a valid reason to blame for the tension that wasn’t the obvious one. I think it’s clear at this point that his brain tells him I’m a girl, even if his eyes have yet to catch up. Is that likely to change? I don’t know. All I can do is be his friend, god knows I need one right now.

“Look, let’s put the past in the past.” he offers. “Come over next weekend and teach me how to not suck so hard at Plumberkart?”

I give him a lazy half-smile and buff my nails confidently. “Do you really think you have a chance of taking me, huh?”

He shakes his head and holds his hands up. “No, against you I would never have a hope; I bow to your mastery of the game. Perhaps I can beat some mere mortals with a little help though?”

“What’s in it for me?” I grin.

“My parents are going out so we can order pizza, watch movies, and chill. Anything you want.”

No Holly, bad idea, really bad fucking idea, girl.

I step forward and lean on the kitchen island separating us and bounce my index finger on my lips looking thoughtful. “I teach you to kick ass at PlumberKart and all I get is pizza and movies?”

“You’re into your Anime right?”

Uh oh, trap detected, defenses insufficient.

“Yeeeeeees?”

Rick looks pretty confident now and I feel a sinking sensation in my stomach.

“Anna was in Japan last week for a conference,” he grins. “I knew you were super into anime so I asked her to get a couple of new releases on DVD. How does Howard’s Mobile House on a big screen sound?”

My eyes go full-on cartoon mode. “What? You have that? No way!”

This is entirely unfair, I am a huge fan of the Studio Genji movies, and I cannot resist this bait.

“Yes way, you in?”

I sigh and bow, “Congratulations, you won this round Rick-Kun.”

We share this look and I swear he’s about to say something when I hear the front door open and close. “Hey, I’m home!” Rob calls followed by the thump of his bag hitting the floor.

Crap, must avoid accidental Hollyings.

“Hey Rob, Kitchen! Rick’s here!” I yell. Hopefully the lumox gets the message.

He shuffles through the door and tosses his keys at the bowl. “Hey… spike, how’s it goin'?” He looks a little surprised to see me boying it up again but he keeps his mouth shut. He bro-nods at Rick, “Sup Dude.”

“Hey, just figured I’d stop in and check up on sleeping beauty over here after what went down on Tuesday,” Rick shrugs. I wince and I notice even Rob twinges at the remark. Funny in hindsight, super close to the bone in the moment.

“Ah, cool yeah, sadly he’s still fine,” Rob laughs as he moves past us to grab himself a soda. “You head over straight from school?”

“Yeah, not had a chance to catch up since, you know?” Rick replies before pausing. “Wait, Spike? Is that a new one?”

Uh oh.

“Yeah,” Rob acts really casual about it. “He spiked our parents' blood pressure ending up in hospital. I won’t let him forget it.”

Robert, you smooth, smooth boy. Cudos.

“Hah, that’s a good one,” Rick smirks. “You had us all worried though, for real.”

Rob looks at me and smiles. “Yeah, it really was rough.”

Rick shifts awkwardly and downs the rest of his soda. “Look, I don’t want to impose, I just popped in on the way home you know? I’ll get out of your hair and leave you to rest.”

He turns to look at me and I catch this look in his eyes that I can’t explain and he smiles. “See you Monday Alex. Remember next Saturday, ok?.”

“Yeah, deal.” I smile. “See you Monday, Rick.”

I follow him to the door and watch as he hops in his truck and pulls out of the driveway. While I’m stood at the door, Rob slides up alongside me and nudges me in the ribs.

“What was all that you said about not being into my teammate?”

“Shut up.”

Rob chuckles and ruffles my hair. “What was the visit for?”

I watch Rick’s truck drive out of sight and shrug. “He just wanted to check I’m doing ok after everything that happened. We’ve been in a bit of a weird patch.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he was sweet on my baby sister.”

“You do know better,” I counter. “He knows me as Alex, a boy. He’s just being a good friend.”

“Really? Coulda fooled me.” Rob snickers. “Not many guys blush that much around their male friends.”

I give my brother a scornful look as we head back inside the house. Finally, out of sight, I release my hair from the low ponytail that kept it restrained and finger-comb it back to fullness.

“Looks weird seeing you like that.” Rob offers as he heads towards the stairs. “Though the mascara kinda ruins the whole grungy teenage boy look, sis.”

My head snaps to the hallway mirror and I stare in horror at the thick beautiful lashes surrounding my eyes.

Oh, Fucksicles.

 

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I’m almost done making dinner by the time Mom and Dad get back from my school meeting. I figured after what is likely to have been an arduous session, that they would like some peace to sit and eat; I’m such a wonderful and thoughtful daughter! At least I can manage a consistent gender presentation this time. I’m still kicking myself from earlier.

I’m dressed pretty casually in a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, but they’re decidedly girlier options than Alex would have worn. Before you ask, no they’re not pink, gag. It feels really good to be a slouch and yet, still be myself. What? Did you think I’d wear pretty skirts and tops all the time? Yawn. Honestly, I wasn’t in the mood to get all dressed up just to make food and relax.

I will admit that I’m a little nervous to find out what the school has said. Honestly, I’m not even sure if they’ll let me switch over to the Girls Division. A whole new school would be jarring academically, but I’d get a totally clean break which might be neat.

As if to answer my question, I hear Mom and Dad come home right as I’m taking the Enchiladas out of the oven. Remember, I can cook, I’m not just a pretty face.

“Hey baby, that smells lovely.” Mom offers by way of greeting as they enter the kitchen.

Truth be told, I’m a little nervous to discover the outcome of the meeting. When I finally turn to face her she doesn’t look all that upset. I think she spots my unspoken question and smiles reassuringly “No bad news honey, we can talk over dinner ok?”

I give her a nod and return to serving dinner. Tonight that is Enchiladas as I mentioned, accompanied by salad and a little rice. It’s about as authentically Mexican as my very white ass can manage, but it does taste pretty good. We all sit down for dinner and talk about general family nothings until we finish the main course. Once that’s done, Mom takes charge.

“So, we spoke with your school about the incident this week and also your particular situation.”

Dad chimes in. “As expected, the Principal was most accommodating given their liability, as we assumed. That boy is suspended for two weeks and will be on probation until the end of the academic year. He’s also being moved off your table and to a different lunch sitting.”

Mom nods, do all families do this back-and-forth tag team routine or is it just mine?

“He’s already off the team too,” Rob points out, squeezing my leg under the table. “Nobody will talk to him anymore. They like you Hol, they never liked him.”

“They might not like me for long,” I sigh.

“That part, I do have some news regarding,” Mom offers. “We brought up your… unique situation and the fact that you are not yet ‘out’ to anyone at school. With the prospect of you returning, we wanted to discuss their position and policies. Your principal mentioned that a number of teachers had raised concerns about you.”

“I’m a good student though?” I ask uncertainly. “I don’t get in trouble, Mom.”

“Not academic or social, darling, more that they had worries about your health and uh, development.”

Dad tags in. “He said several had come to him with concerns about your isolation and depression. Also that a couple had perhaps, noticed some changes in you recently too.”

Ah, yes, national hide-and-seek squad member candidate, that’s me.

“What did they say about my being Holly at school?”

“Well, these are important years for you academically, but they’re keen to exercise their diversity policies. With them not beholden to the same laws and policies as the local authorities, they can make some allowances, depending on various factors.”

“So I’d continue going to the boys' school but as a girl?”

“We’d need to see the Principal of the girls' school, according to Principal Gardener it would be entirely her choice. He doesn’t think there would be an issue as the school board policies do have some protections in place.”

“I’m kinda surprised that a stuffy school like that even thinks anyone LGBT even exists.”

“You’d be surprised,” Dad answers with a chuckle. “A lot of Alumni hold a great deal of influence at places like this. It seems that in this case, enough of them have an interest in equality.”

“So when do we go to see her? And what other factors?”

Mom makes a face, “They made comment about some matters I know would never be an issue for you but they did raise questions over changing facilities and bathrooms.”

“What? What do they expect? That I’m doing this to perv on other girls?”

Mom chuckles. “The fact you said other girls says it all darling; you are just another girl. I have no doubt Mrs Carlos will see that when you meet her next Friday.”

Gulp.

“Me?”

Mom nods. “Yup, we’re all going to see her at five, so you can come home and change before we see her. Hopefully, we’ll have had a chance to see Carol before then too.”

Rattus smellus.

“Carol?”

“Mom nods, “Doctor Ward; she has a psychiatric practice locally that specializes in gender and sexuality issues. Your father and I think seeing her and getting a formal diagnosis would help ease your path.”

“So you want me to see a psychiatrist? To work out if I’m mentally ill or confused?”

Mom shakes her head and takes my hand across the table, “No, sweetheart, to get you a formal diagnosis so we can start moving forward for you. I think it’s very clear to every single person around this table that you are Holly Winters, our daughter, and Robert’s sister. Sometimes the world just needs a little paperwork, and you might want someone to talk to who understands all of this better than we do.”

It makes some sense I guess but what teenager wants to admit that she needs help? Honestly? The idea of psychiatrists scares me. As convinced as I am that I am as female as anyone else, a little brain worm at the back of my brain is terrified that a psychiatrist will declare me crazy and tell me I’m imagining all of this. I know it’s not likely, but it does scare me, as much as I know this is a necessary step.

“Ok, I’ll go. When?”

“Wednesday evening after school, I’ll pick you up, ok?” Dad offers. “Your mother has surgery.”

Dad’s going to take me to the gender shrink? I suppose that’s an endorsement if ever there was one. He and I have never had a super close relationship, but I can tell he means well. He’s just one of those guys who struggles to share things like feelings and emotions.

Well, we have a game plan at least; psychiatrists, schools, and my future. If everything plays out, I might even get a chance to graduate as myself. Wild thought, huh?

If you asked me what might have happened seven months ago when I first started hormones, I would have told you I was looking forward to graduating, getting to college, and coming out. Now? I have absolutely no idea.

 

 

My weekend was honestly unremarkable in its awesomeness; I was simply Holly Juliette Winters (I love saying my name). I could write a billion chapters about getting up, brushing my hair, spending time trying on clothes, and learning how to apply makeup, but you’ve read so many of those. Frankly, in reality, it’s not quite as exciting as the fiction makes it out to be. How many times can you try to do winged liner with hooded eyes? Many is the answer, far too many.

What does really suck, however, is getting up Monday morning. See, for a school kid this automatically sucks. However, in my situation, it also meant that I woke up as a girl and I got dressed as a boy; which sucked. Coming off almost an entire week as my real self, it was a jarring experience to have to force Holly back into a box and to revive Alex. I know it’s temporary now and that does give me hope, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.

I have taken to wearing a T-shirt under my dress shirt and over my sports bra to help generally flatten my shape. It was a bit less conspicuous than a hoodie, and it helped keep me a bit warmer as the fall really gripped our part of the world. Did I still see Holly looking back at me in the mirror? Sure I did, but I don’t think I can unsee her now. Let’s hope everyone else doesn’t, eh?

When I made it downstairs, Rob was eating breakfast at the kitchen island. I made my typical beeline straight for the coffee pot and stuck a pop-tart in the toaster while I made a cup of my Elixyr. When I turned around, he was just watching me with a sad look on his face.

“What’d I do?”

“I can’t see him anymore,” he smiles sadly, “not even a hint.”

I slouch and scowl, “how about now?”

Rob chuckles, “It’s a little better but it’s not that convincing, sis.”

“It will have to be,” I sigh, juggling the scalding pastry in my fingers. “I’ve got to hold out as long as they need me to.”

“I told Dad to head on to work,” Rob continues. “I wanted to give you a ride in myself today.”

“Why so generous all of a sudden?” I raise an eyebrow.

Rob shrugs, “I want to look out for my baby sister, and figured you’ could do with a break from the olds.”

I give him a thank-you elbow nudge as I stuff the pop-tart into my face. I might be a girl now, but behind closed doors, delicate I am not. Does that make me a bad girl? No, not even close. I grew up with a big sister; you should have seen that woman eat sometimes, it was like watching a tornado hit a grocery store.

The drive to school was pretty normal, or rather, whatever I can manage to call normal these days. Going with Rob was unusual, but it wasn’t the first time either. This time felt different however; our relationship had changed. My brother is a good man, and he has always had my back. I think I appreciate him now more than ever.

We pulled into the parking lot at school a little before eight-thirty and Rob shut the engine off. We sat in silence for a few minutes, neither of us making any effort to get out of the car yet. I won’t lie, I’m a little nervous now the cat is out of the proverbial.

“Are you going to be ok?” he asked finally, breaking the silence.

“It’s just any other day Rob,” I sigh. “I managed to get this far, right?”

“I won’t be far away Holly, Ok?”

“Remember, I’m Alex when I’m like this,” I correct him, gesturing at myself. “Let's try and stick to Alex or you’ll fuck it all up.”

“Like an undercover spy?”

I look over at Rob and smile, “Exactly. now don’t blow my cover, bozo.”

There’s a sharp rap on the window that makes me jump as Rob’s teammate RJ sticks his face against the glass like a goon. I roll my eyes, once my heart settles down, but Rob just laughs at his idiot friend’s antics. Apparently, this is normal for them and just further serves to remind me that boys are another species altogether.

As we get out of the car to join them and head into school, defensive man mountain, Face, lumbers over and throws his tree trunk arm around my shoulders, nearly flattening me in the process. “Hey little dude, you all better now?”

I attempt to dislodge the Winnebago that’s landed on top of me. “Yeah, ow, I was! Get off me you oaf!”

“Leave h…im Face,” Rob calls over, blatantly stumbling on my pronouns; good work Bro, you had one job. “We don’t need Alex broken again!”

“We were worried, you know?” RJ offers, grinning at me. “We kicked Brandon’s fuckin ass after what he did to you.”

“Yeah, you’re like a lucky charm for us now. We haven’t lost a game yet this season.”

“I’m not joining the cheer squad guys, no matter how many times you ask,” I deadpan as we walk towards the school building. “I really don’t look good in red and white.”

Rob nearly chokes at my comment but his friends just laugh. Maybe I can get some fun out of teasing him now he knows the truth? I know it’s evil, but sometimes the best defense is actually a good offense. Joking about girly things might actually throw people off more than avoiding it entirely.

I smile to myself as I let the others talk and joke as we make our way into school. The real secret here is that I’m still Holly right now, not Alex. I know Kara suggested it, but the reality is that after the hospital and my big reveal, I don’t actually feel like him anymore. No, I’ve not got some crazy split personality developing, I think that finally allowing him to drop away has been a one-way journey for me mentally. Now he’s gone I feel… free. It’s hard to describe, but I think it might be, happiness. Even dressing like this can’t take it away from me, not entirely.

Homeroom is basically a non-event. Sure, some people welcome me back and my receiving a monumental beating and still being alive is apparently noteworthy, but nobody seems to notice anything else beyond that. To them, I’m still the runty effeminate nerd Alex, so no news there.

Anyone who’s ever taken any time off school for medical reasons will know that coming back is a blur of catching up and missed homework. A week off school isn’t as fun once it’s over! Thankfully nothing has gotten too far ahead that I can’t catch up once I get back into my groove. I might have ditched Alex, but ya girl still intends to make it to medical school in one piece, and that requires academic exercise!

By the time we get to lunch, I’m pleasantly surprised to find out that Darth Dipshit’s replacement is Carson Orlinski, the team’s quarterback. While we’re not exactly buddies, but he’s a nice enough guy and since Rob got me involved with his band of brain-damaged amigos, we’re on amicable nodding terms. (For guys, this is like, totally friends I think.)

“The wounded warrior returns,” Carson greets me as I arrive at my spot next to the head. A quick glance down the table shows me most of them aren’t quite sure what to say yet.

“Sadly, the hospital decided I was already this brain-damaged before I hit the floor, sorry to disappoint you guys.”

“I think they’re more in awe that you stood up to that assclown,” Carson chuckles. “Plus the blood kinda made it more graphic than that one Taco Day incident with the guacamole.”

I shudder as I sit, remembering said incident well. “How much blood was there?” I genuinely don’t remember any blood.

“Eh, enough for Mister Walker to end up on his butt when he was pulling us off Brandon.”

“Do I get double points for taking down a teacher too?”

“Tripple, seeing as you managed to get the entire football team to agree on something,” Rick adds as he arrives and drops into his seat across from me. The little smile he gives me makes my heart flutter. God, being around him is so difficult.

“We’re glad you’re alright.” he offers, “I think I can speak for everyone here when we say the table has improved since last Tuesday.”

There’s a general murmur of agreement and not a few chuckles from around the table. It finally breaks the tension and lets us get back to more important matters, like food. Before long, we’re chatting and eating like regular people. I have to say, it makes a difference from the tension that’s plagued lunchtime all semester so far.

My afternoon is largely without incident and before long I’m boarding the bus for my ride home. Rob offered to give me a ride, but I didn’t want to be smothered either. This girl has to stand up for herself and show that she’s not incapable of functioning. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not afraid to ask for help, but I also don’t need to be treated like I’m fragile or broken.

“So did everything… go?” Kara asks casually avoiding specifics.

“Pretty good,” I admit, “Nothing weird today, considering everything.”

Gary looks rather suspicious, “why would anything be weird?”

“So many reasons,” Meg giggles.

“Are you two still pretending to date him? It’s so weird.”

Megan drapes herself across me and leers suggestively, “Wanna make out baby?”

I shake my head and sigh dramatically, “No, it will make Gary jealous darling. We should refrain in public, they just wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m going to be sick,” he grumbles.

I smile, it’s a happy genuine smile. This almost feels normal, even if I can’t really be me at school yet. For the first time in my life, there is light at the end of the tunnel and it’s uplifting in a way I had never possibly imagined.

 

 

For most kids in school, getting home feels pretty awesome each afternoon. No matter how good your experience is, I can guarantee that for me, it was a billion times better than Monday afternoon. No sooner was I through the door than I performed a metaphorical Jim Carrey from that movie where he becomes God? You know the one, the arms out and back, and the clothes come flying off? Yup, that was me, only in my room and a lot more messy.

Within fifteen minutes of getting home, I was out of my school drab and into a denim skirt and a cute little blue top with capped sleeves. I brushed out my hair and applied a little mascara and gloss before pronouncing myself ready for the world at long last. Bouncing back downstairs, I was grabbing myself a soda when Mom arrived home.

“You’re home early?” I smile, kissing her on the cheek in greeting.

Mom smiled as she dropped her bag on the island. “Yup, My early surgery went well so I decided to beat it before they found me anything else to do; privileges of the position. What are you up to? catching up on your homework?”

Nothing slips past Mother dearest.

“I was just heading up to get started on that mountain,” I admit. “I wanted to get changed out of Alex first.”

Mom chuckles. “That sounds a little schizophrenic, darling.”

“Alex is a camouflage,” I shrug dismissively. “I was barely hanging onto him for some time, now? He’s a shirt I wear so that I can look like a boy.”

Mom’s face goes through some contortions and I suddenly feel very horrible indeed. My soda ignored, I rushed over and wrapped her in my arms, “I’m sorry Mom, I didn’t mean it like that.”

My Mom’s voice is a little husky when she finally answers me after a long moment in each other’s arms. “It’s ok sweetheart, I know how you meant it and it’s fine, really. Just understand that it’s still taking some time for me to let go of the little boy that I raised.”

“I’m the same person,” I mumble dejectedly. “I was always Holly, on the inside.”

Mom strokes my hair and holds me close, “I know darling, but for the longest time, I thought I had a little boy. I was wrong, and I’m so glad that I have a little girl, especially a happy one. It will just take me a little time to get used to dismissing Alex quite as easily, baby.”

I pull back and give Mom a sad smile and a nod. I understand where she’s coming from and I can sympathize. For her, Alex not existing, is a much more recent development, even if she knew before I told her. In a way, it’s a transition for her too and I need to give her time.

Mom kisses my forehead and steps back. “Right, I’ll make dinner, you get yourself upstairs and work on that pile of homework. You might well be my little girl now, but you still need to get a 4.0.”

I sigh, with dramatic daughterly energy, “Yes Mother.”

 

 

The first Wednesday since the debut of the new hit Broadway musical; Holly Winters - Schoolboy arrived, and with it, my first time using the gym since my feminine debut.

Andy wasn’t in school today, so rather than walk alone, I hung around to wait for Meg and Kara so I could go with them. I have to say, it was nice to just let the mask down and be myself the second we were away from the school campus. Sure, I’m still technically dressed as a boy, but I’ve ditched my jacket and tie and look rather more androgynous in just the shirt and trousers. My level of fucks given is reaching a critical low these days.

“So you’re going to see a therapist later tonight?” Kara asked. “What do you think It’s gonna be like?”

I actually haven’t given it a lot of thought because the idea scares me more than I want to admit. “Maybe good, maybe bad,” I shrug. “I don’t really know what to expect. It’s not like I need help working out who I am; that’s pretty settled. I’m more worried that they’ll tell me that I can’t be me.”

“Nah, everyone else needs help working out what you are,” Megan giggles. “How’s the double life going since the big reveal?”

“Better than I hoped, but harder than I’d like,” I admit. “Rob’s been good so far; no slip-ups that I’ve heard. Plus, keeping the Alex mask at school is a lot easier than I had expected. Now I know I’m deliberately playing a role, it’s much more simple to pretend.”

“I don’t know how you do it,” Kara offers, giving me a sad smile. “Now, more than ever.”

“Because I know that it will end soon enough,” I reply quietly.

Our conversation pauses while we walk through the front doors and into Skyline’s front lobby. Once we’re through, Megan starts up about some drama between a few of the girls at school. I’m paying rapt attention to this because this is soon going to be my world, either here or in some new place. I’ll need every opportunity to get a leg up on the jungle that is girl world. What? You thought it was all flowers and sisterhood? Hah, you poor fools.

It turns out that I’m paying far too little attention to anything BUT this conversation because I stop dead in my tracks when I see a topless girl changing into a sports bra right in front of me.

“Gak!” I gulp, slapping my hand over my mouth. “Shit, uh, wrong uh…”

Yeah, you can tell what I did right? I walked right into the women's locker room alongside the sisters, didn’t I? Right now I’m gawping at the doorway and about to cause a massive scene if I don’t think fast, and I don’t.

Kara’s brain is thankfully working and she shoves me around the corner and into the bathroom area near the front door. Not as I had hoped, back out into the corridor.

“Shut up, just get in one of the stalls and change already.” she hisses quietly. “It’s too late to back out now.”

“I can’t change in here,” I whisper back sharply, “You need to go outside and check if the coast is clear.”

“I could, but how are your pretty shaved legs going to look in with the boys, huh?”

Oh yeah, she might have a point there. I slap myself on the forehead and just nod as I retreat into the toilet stall. It’s pretty cramped for changing but it’s not particularly awful either. On the bright side, it’s not a huge stinking fit about a ‘boy’ in the girls changing rooms. That would bring way too much attention down on me, for sure. What I’m going to do with anyone that does see me I don’t know… that however is a battle for another time. I guess I’m just glad that I have an ace up my sleeve for later.

I slip out of my clothes and into my shorts and T-shirt. I really had been so busy that I hadn’t thought about my damn legs at all. I could have brought sweatpants like a normal non-stupid person but apparently, that was too complicated for my fish brain. Remember my dominoes theory? Yeah, that would tip me well and truly over the scale, not that I was particularly hairy before.

One thing that I have noticed, all my panic and fear aside, is that it smells so utterly different in here compared to the boys' locker room. There’s an overall pervasive smell of deodorant and perfume but generally, the guttural tang of the boys' spaces is entirely absent. You know, a girl could get used to this.

I pack away my clothes and grab my stuff before venturing cautiously back out into the bathroom proper. I nearly jump out of my skin when some random woman leaves a stall and walks casually past me and back to the lockers. She doesn’t scream or point a finger at the freak. Instead, she just glances at me before keeping on rolling without a care in the world.

The layout in here is identical to the guys, which, in hindsight, makes literally total sense seeing as its the same company. It’s pretty busy when I get back into the main room, Meg and Kara are just finishing getting changed at a bench on the far side.

I weave nervously past a few semi-naked female bodies and slide up alongside the girls. As subtly as possible while entirely red in the face.

“Oh, you’re ready? See? No fuss.” Kara smiles reassuringly. “Gotta fix that hair tho, Meg?”

“On it!” Before I can protest, my hair is out of my low ponytail and is retied higher up on my head where it bounces against my neck. When the girls are finished dressing, we lock up our bags, grab our rackets, and head for the courts.

I’d arranged to play badminton with the sisters today, so thankfully there was far less risk of us running across anyone that might recognize me had we been using the more trafficked spaces of the complex. When we arrive at our pre-booked court, there’s a short blonde girl with a pixie cut already waiting. She hasn’t noticed us yet, and is instead texting furiously on her phone.

“Hey, Tina!” Meg calls out, waving at the unknown.

The blonde looks up and waves before noticing me walking along beside the others. “Who’s your friend?”

Kara sets her water bottle down and unsheathes her racket. “Tina; Holly, Holly; Tina.”

“Hey,” The girl offers, giving me a half smile before furrowing her brow. “You don’t go to our school, do you?”

“I uh… I might be soon,” I admit. “I live near the sisters.”

“You just move here?” she asks, giving her racket a few test swipes.

“No, uh, just changing school.”

I really should have had some sort of story together but I am not particularly smart today.

She gives me a bit of an odd look but seems to dismiss it.

“Normies Vs Gingers?” Meg asks with a cheeky grin.

Tina rolls her eyes and looks at me questioningly. “Wanna?”

“Sure.”

Suddenly the tiny blonde gets this demonically evil look on her face. She grins at me before turning back to face Meg, looking awfully innocent all of a sudden. “Hey, does this make it like, shirts and skins, but for souls?”

Forget cute little giggles, the four of us burst out in deep raucous belly laughter. I can already tell I’m going to like this girl a great deal.

“So new girl, what’s your story?” Blondie asks as we make our way over to our side of the court.

“We’re childhood friends; my parents want me to change schools so I have a better shot at a good education without too many distractions.”

See, I made a decision early on that I don’t want to actively lie about my transition. I’ll never pretend to claim a period or say that I was a little girl, but I will allow people to believe what they want; implication isn’t actually lying. For example, I, a girl, can say I currently go to a single-sex school; it’s not my fault if you assume it’s an all-girls institution. In this instance, it's entirely true. Mom and Dad do want me to change schools, the distraction? Being the only girl in an all-boys school. Simple but honest, with a twist.

Tina takes up her position and stretches before we start. “You ready to bring it? These two won’t play fair.”

I glance between the sisters and my new teammate. Yeah, not a chance they’re going to be kind to us, this is war.

“Let's do this.”

The games are hard; girls might act cutesy and weak around boys but we really go really hard when it throws down. Why is it that all of a sudden, I suddenly really enjoy sports? I’m sure there’s a connection somewhere I’m missing.

The four games we play leave us sweating and exhausted by the time we’re finished. Tina and I turn out to be pretty good doubles partners, our personalities gelling rather well. Where I’ve got a bit more reach, she’s incredibly fast, darting around the court like a tiny blonde bullet. Tina is as funny and as dark as I first believed. This girl is sharp and I’m quickly starting to like her a lot, I almost feel bad that I’ve only just met her.

Tina, it seems, shares most of her classes with Megan but has homeroom with Kara. When we’re not hanging out, they’re reportedly pretty tight. I feel a little bad taking up their time recently, but they seem willing to give it.

When we’re done, we make our way back towards the lockers chatting happily amongst ourselves. Honestly, the afternoon has been pretty awesome after I got over the shock of the locker room. I fit in like this, and not just with my best friends. Sure, it’s not girls in general yet, but it’s a damn good start. Even out here sweating my tits off I’m just one of them; it feels right.

I follow the girls back into the locker room, still nervous but not entirely quite as frightened as that first accidental time. I think a few hours out here just being one of the girls has desensitized me somewhat.

Once we’re back inside I realize I’m going to need a shower if I have any hope of getting out of here and not stinking up a doctor’s office.

I slip in beside Megan and whisper in her ear, “What are the showers like in here?”

“Probably like the bo…. Oh yeah,” she chuckles quietly. “You probably wouldn’t know that either.”

She gets an eye roll in response.

“Individual cubicles with curtains, you got spare underwear? You could probably just keep your panties on and be safe enough.”

I give her a nod and a thank you squeeze before heading to my locker to get my things. Apparently, Tina has absolutely no body issues at all because blondie strips buck freaking naked before grabbing a towel, and heading straight to the stalls. With her gone, I open my locker and grab my bag. Changing in the shower cubicle? You bet I am, I’m a total chicken.

The shower area is pretty steamy and warm when I make my way inside. My heart is hammering a little as I try to quash the feeling that I don’t really belong here. I see women wearing only a towel but I also see a fair few that are going in clothed so I don’t feel too out of place.

I grab an empty cubicle and leave my bag by the small dry area with clothing hooks. The space isn’t huge but it’s clearly intended for people to change and shower. I strip down to my panties and step in to rinse off the sweat from my body. No, I’m not describing my shower, sod off. What kind of book do you think this is?

Once I’m done, I quickly change out of my soggy panties and into the spares I had in my bag. Here’s where the fun begins, the fun I wasn’t actually expecting to be able to pull off here at the gym.

The thing is, with my shrink appointment directly after I finish here, Dad is picking me up directly. I’d rather not go in boy clothes if I don’t have to, so I had planned to persuade him to let me change in a gas station bathroom or something once we left here. Not an enticing thought, and now not one I have to entertain now; thank god.

I slip into fresh underwear including a real bra and get dressed as quickly as I can. I brought a pair of black jeans, a white baby tee, and a slouchy oversized cable-knit cardigan in, even a little stylish. Better yet, it’s not an outfit the girls have seen me in, so they should be quite surprised!

The final step of my magical phonebooth transformation I had planned, was to deal with my hair. It was still a little sweaty from the gym and I had no real chance to wash it. What have I done since growing my hair out and not wanting to use communal showers? Ladies, Gentlemen and anyone in between; dry shampoo, it’s a heaven-sent miracle.

Spraying the magic through my hair, I finger-brush it into some semblance of non-sweat-crusted normality. Side benefit; this stuff gives me rather nice volume now I’m not tying it up in a ponytail. You might think this is a literary shortcut for a girl as new as me, but I’ve had long hair for years, so I’m no stranger to taking care of this mop. Mom always insisted that if I had it, iI should take care of it (Thanks Mom!)

Satisfied that my hair is reasonably clean and facing in the same direction, I pack my belongings back up and grab the purse I’d stuffed in my gym bag. With that, I exit back out into the shower room proper. The showers and the bathrooms are opposite each other by the entry to the locker room so I cross over without having to see the girls.

Feeling far more confident in my appearance now that I look like a normal girl, I set up in front of a spare sink and brush my hair. Once I’m done, I apply a little mascara, liner, and lipgloss. It’s not a lot, but It’s enough to make me feel fresh and put together. Plus I’m super slow at applying anything more at this point. I didn’t become a makeup artist overnight like all those other Trans protagonists!

The girl in the mirror is me; Holly Winters. I’m not going to win any beauty contests, but I feel like ten tons of lead have been lifted from my shoulders, and not Face this time! I grab my things and head back through to surprise the sisters. I will say, this is far more comfortable and pleasant than dodging rodents in a gas station bathroom!

With a final primp, I gather my courage and head back to the main locker rooms to find the others. I won’t lie, I’m still nervous about the women changing around me but I feel a bit more comfortable now that I know they will see another girl.

Kara, Meg, and Tina are finishing dressing when I arrive and drop my gym bag on the bench. “You guys ready?”

“Almost, we were waiting on you,” Tina shrugs. Meg and Kara? Both of them look like they just saw Jesus riding a unicycle and playing the bagpipes.

“What are you staring at?” I ask as casually as I can without smirking. “Something on my face?”

Poor Tina who isn’t in on the joke just shakes her head. “No, although your Gym kit sucks, I thought you were an incurable tomboy.”

“You should see her at school.” Kara chuckles, recovering her witts. “I swear some people think she’s a boy.”

If I was a lesser girl, I’d protest a joke like that but the little smile on her face when she says it affirms that it's a private joke said with love.

The girls finish collecting their belongings and we head out to the foyer. Not a single person screams or points at me walking with my friends. I realize just how potentially dangerous this whole thing is, but I don’t really know most of the other kids who chose to take this option this year, so I don’t care that much.

As we exit the lobby, I hear my cell phone ring.

“Yellow,”

“Holly? Where are you? I’m in the parking lot now,” Dad offers by way of answer.

I scan around and spot his car. “Oh yeah, I see you, coming now!” I hang up and point the car out to the girls. The look on his face when he spots us walking over is priceless.

“Dad Taxi all the time. huh?” Tina asks raising an eyebrow.

“Got an appointment or I’d be on the bus like a normie,” I sigh. “Hey Dad!” I call seeing him step out of the car.

“Hello…girls,” I see his face go through several expressions as his mind processes what he’s seeing. I’m pretty sure he expected to pick up me in boy drag, so I’m going to have some questions to answer.

“Hey Mister W,” Meg waves. “How’s it going?”

“Good, thank you, Megan, tell your dad hello from me. I would offer you a lift, but I’m taking this one to get her checked for a brain after the concussion last week. They’re still not sure she has one.”

“Daaaad,” I complain, suddenly pausing as I remember Christine doing exactly the same shit when she was younger. That makes me smile.

“Get in, child of mine, I’d rather not be late.”

“Yessir!” I mock salute.

I turn to the sisters and hug them both, “Cya later, I’ll call ok?”

“Sure thing,” Meg answers, “Love ya Hol.”

God, it’s so simple but it warms my heart.

I turn to Tina and offer her a little finger wave. I don’t quite know the etiquette for hugging new potential friends, she solves it by giving me a hug. “Nice to meet you, Holly. Hope you do end up transferring in, you seem cool.”

I give the girls a final wave before hopping in the car and tossing my bag in the back. Dad doesn’t say anything at first, not until we’re out on the main road. Once we’re heading back into the city, he gives me a good once over and raises an eyebrow. “I was under the impression you were attending school as a boy, darling.”

“I am,” I point out. “I brought this stuff with me to change when we were heading over here, I didn’t want to meet this shrink as Alex. In the end, I changed in the Gym before we left.”

Dad smells a rat and his eyes narrow. “Why and where did you change? Don’t think I didn’t notice that little blonde calling you Holly too.”

“Ah,” I admit, looking anywhere but at my father.

“Holly…”

“Look it wasn’t my fault ok?”

Dad grins in that parental exasperation way that all parents seem to acquire over time. “You tripped and fell and ended up in the girls' locker room?”

“Uh, actually yes, kinda.”

“Do tell.”

I proceed to explain my stupid moment and how my dumb ass ended up having to fit in with the other girls real fast.

“And you had no problems?” He asks, more concerned now than amused. “Nobody gave you any trouble?”

I shrug. “I mean, I’ve had more weird looks in the boys' locker rooms.”

Dad’s face does that weird thing again where he seems conflicted. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I didn’t mean that… It must be very difficult for you, all of this.”

“You could say that,” I chuckle. “Each moment I spend as Holly, it all gets so much easier though.”

“Was it really that bad?” he asks. There’s a tone to his voice I didn’t quite understand at the time. I later realized it was his own uncertainty as a father. He was afraid that he had done a bad job of raising me, that this was all his fault.

I shake my head, “No Dad, it wasn’t that bad. Well no, it was, but it wasn’t anything that you or Mom did. I had a happy childhood, if I’m honest, and it wasn’t bad at all. There were days I could forget how I felt and I almost felt happy. The truth is, this was inside me all along, gnawing at my soul from the very start.”

Dad looks relieved, “I’m sorry honey, I am.”

I squeeze my Dad’s arm and give him a smile of thanks. “You don’t need to be, I love you, Dad.”

 

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We arrived at the psychiatrist’s office after about thirty minutes of Dad’s lead-footed driving. That man would have been a stock car driver in another life, I swear. The office was located on the far side of the city from our house and was in a fairly upmarket part of town. Clearly, head shrinking paid well enough for the nice digs, but did that make it any good for me?

Dad pulled the car into a parking spot and shut off the engine before turning to face me, “are you ready for this kiddo?”

“I am a little scared. I mean she’s not going to stop me being me, right?”

Dad shakes his head. “No, she isn’t. I… ah, look.” he shifts awkwardly. “You should know before we go in, well… your mother and I, we’ve already met with her a few times.”

“When?”

“Uh, July.”

“JULY?!”

Dad holds his hands up in surrender, “Holly, look… This was back when we first really realized you were probably struggling with a gender issue and we needed to work out what to do to help. Doctor Ward is a great Psychiatrist and she knows quite a bit about you already. She helped us realize that you had to come to us about this and that it was something real and likely permanent that wouldn’t go away.”

“I feel a tiny bit betrayed,” I admit with a huff, “but I suppose I do get it.”

Dad squeezes my hand and gives me a little smile. “She helped us to mourn our son and helped prepare us to welcome our daughter.”

“Mourn?”

He nods, “We were quite fond of him, our little boy. The truth she helped us to realize is that he never really existed did he? We loved what we thought he was. She helped us to understand that and know that you were still you, but we just hadn’t known it.”

“Profound,” I admit.

“Come on kid, let's get in there eh?”

Summoning my courage, I follow Dad into the lobby up to the front desk. To my relief, there’s nobody else waiting when we arrive, but I still feel like I’m being invisibly judged for my mere presence. The receptionist looks up as we approach and smiles like they all do. It says ‘I’m being paid to like you.’

“Hello there! Do you have an appointment?” she beams in corporate.

“Michael Winters and Holly to see Doctor Ward?”

The woman looks down and types something on her computer before smiling at us again. “Ah, yes, here we are! Take a seat and I’ll let her know you’re here! She wants you to fill this out for Holly please.” She adds handing Dad a clipboard and pen.

We find seats and Dad starts filling out the aforementioned forms.

“What is it?” I ask, glancing over at the official-looking paperwork.

“Nothing interesting,” he mumbles, focused on the form. “Medical history and school details, probably favorite food. Most importantly insurance details.”

I rapidly lose interest like any teenager and start looking around the room. I’ve never been to a psychiatrist before so it’s quite interesting in a morbid way. I suppose in reality it’s like a lot of private medical practices; comforting and neutral. Magazines are lined up on a coffee table but I’m not quite in the mood to read this first time. Behind it all, there’s classical music playing softly in the background to sooth our troubled noggins.

“Holly Winters?” A woman’s voice asks, dragging me from my distracted visual exploration.

I glance over and spot an older woman, perhaps Mom’s age, looking at me expectantly. She’s got her brunette hair up in a neat bun and a pair of tortoiseshell glasses perched on the end of her nose. She’s pretty slim and dressed smartly in a cream blouse and slacks.

“That’s me,” I admit, standing up and smoothing my clothes. “Um, hello.”

She smiles at me and turns to the paternal unit. “I’d like to speak to Holly on her own first, Mister Winters, is that ok?”

“Sure thing. I’ll be out here Holly, ok?” Dad offers, squeezing my hand. “You got this, Honey.”

“I hope so,” I grimace a little more nervously than I expect.

Standing up, I follow the good Doctor through into her office. It’s tastefully decorated in a reserved beige pallet that won’t offend any senses. It feels a little like my school counselor’s office with a far bigger budget. There’s the obligatory sofas and chairs and a large desk over by one wall. Doctor Ward walks over to an armchair and directs me to the sofa at an angle to it. “If you’d like to take a seat, Holly, I promise not to bite, ok dear?”

“I’m a little stringy and lack flavor,” I admit, taking my spot on the sofa as demurely as possible.

The Psychiatrist smirks slightly at my remark but remains professional. “I’m Doctor Carol Ward, I think your parents told you that I specialize in Gender issues, correct?”

I give her a nod, not really sure if she expects an answer.

She smiles. “So, you can call me Carol, or Doctor Ward, whichever is more comfortable for you. I assume you’re ok with me using Holly?”

“Well, it is my name,” I shrug.”

Ward Smiles. “did you choose it yourself or was it one your parents selected?”

“I remember Mom saying years ago that it might have been my name if I’d been born a girl. I kinda latched onto it and it became my real name.”

Doctor Ward nods and writes something on her pad. “I must say, Holly, you’re quite an unusual and interesting case for me. I normally meet people in your situation a little later in life and often a lot earlier in their transition.”

“Ah… yeah, I kinda cheated,” I admit with a sheepish smile.

Doctor Ward nods and smiles. “Certainly not a safe or ideal path, but I believe I understand why you did it. I must admit, few are in your position to have both the knowledge and resourcefulness to go about this as you have. Honestly, I’m rather impressed at your accomplishments so far. Based on what your Mother passed on regarding dosages, you were actually pretty much spot on.”

“Daughter of a doctor, I guess it’s genetic,” I admit a little less nervous now I know I’m not going to get yelled at or punished for self-medicating.

“I want you to know that I know how dangerous doing this was, I really do. I had no choice; I was desperate and at my wit’s end. All I had left was to do this and prevent puberty or… face worse options.”

“Did you consider talking to your parents?” Ward queries.

I shook my head, “I was terrified that they’d send me to military school or conversion therapy.”

Doctor Ward nods and smiles sympathetically. “Did they give you the impression that they would?”

I truly feel a wave of deep regret at that moment and sigh. “No, never. Honestly, I read about so many horror stories for kids coming out. There are so many stories about people’s lives falling apart and rejection; I truly believed it was going to happen to me. My plan was to stop puberty and make it to college where I could have somewhere safe to live then come out and hope it went ok.”

I smirk at the comedy of the situation. “Turns out that a bunch of older trans folk telling me how long it would take to change me were completely wrong. I got the impression that I could hide the changes well enough for a few years,” I chuckle.

Doctor Ward genuinely smiles at this. “Yes, for our average patient in their forties, that would be true. For you dear, the changes are far more rapid and extensive.”

“So I discovered,” I smile. “I’m not exactly sad.”

“From what your mother said, you came out to her about a week ago, after an incident at school I believe?”

I proceed to fill Doctor Ward in on the adventures of the prior week. You don’t need me to recount the dialogue covering my grand bonkening and the subsequent hospital theatrics, do you? Of course not. She listens in silence while I recount most of last week in great detail. There is but one thing I omit, and I think you can guess which wide receiver that is.

“So… yeah that’s up until now,” I offer awkwardly.

Ward nods and scribbles something on her pad. I’m pretty convinced they do that for effect, even more now that I know most record their sessions to dictate later. Once she’s done, she looks up at me and smiles. “Quite an adventure so far Holly.”

“Uh, yeah, I suppose.” I shrug. “It’s not how I would have done it.”

Doctor Ward smiles and puts down her notepad. “Tell me, Holly, Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you feel the need to take these steps?”

I pause for a moment, allowing myself a second to compose my thoughts. I don’t particularly want to mention self-forever sleep… that usually upsets Psychiatrists.

“The idea of becoming like my brother was terrifying to me,” I begin, making direct eye contact with the woman across from me. “The idea of getting bigger and growing muscles and hair and a deep voice felt utterly alien and terrifying.”

“And why is that? Are you sure that isn’t a normal response to puberty? That it might be a fear of the unknown?”

I shook my head and took a second to collect my thoughts before answering her. I’m no shrink, and even I know this is one of those ‘define yourself’ moments. “Doctor Ward, what do you see before you?”

Ward raises an eyebrow, “From my perspective, I can see what appears to be a quite pretty young woman.”

I nod, “That is what I am and that is what I’ve always been. For as long as I can remember, it’s the central truth of my existence. I’m not a boy like Rob. Don’t get me wrong; I love my brother, he’s a wonderful person but we are not the same. My sister Christine, my mother; I am like them.”

“What are they like?” Ward asks finding a thread to pull at.

I consider the question, “female.”

“What is female?” Ward asks, the slightest hint of a smile playing on her lips. “Is it the clothes? The makeup? Liking boys?”

I shake my head. “A woman or a girl isn’t defined by what she wears or how she acts. I know girls that are tomboys and others that are fashion princesses. They’re wildly different but they’re all girls. There’s something intrinsically different about us at a core level that separates us from boys and men. Maybe a lot of it is how girls are raised, but I know that I share far more in common with my sister, my Mom or my female friends. I share far more than I do with any guy, even Rob and my Dad. I can’t exactly explain why, but at my core, I know that I’m meant to have breasts and a vagina, to grow up to fall in love and be a wife, to be… hopefully one day, a Mom.”

“You do know that you’ll never be able to be a mother, biologically, right?” Ward asks gently.

“I know,” I nod sadly. “That thought saddens me, but it doesn’t cheapen my value as a woman or a mom. I want it all the same. To me, womanhood is something intangible; I have no idea what it means yet, but I want to learn. My friends at school, they’re not women yet either, we’re just girls. I just know above all else that I am so much more like them than any boy. Being this way feels correct.”

Ward smiled politely and began scribbling in her notebook. A few moments later, she looked up and fixed me with a pleasant gaze. “You’d be surprised how many transgender patients have come before me and told me that womanhood is x, or womanhood is y, young and old, we all have our ideas. If we’re to believe the religions sort, a woman is no more than a uterus on legs.” she chuckled briefly seeing the look of revulsion on my face.

“The truth is, Holly, that even I, born a girl, can’t tell you what a woman is. However, like you, at my core, I know that it is exactly what I am. My questions are not a test and there is no way to pass or fail this, short of comorbid psychiatric issues. I simply wanted to understand your mentality and approach to understanding your identity, do you understand?”

“You need to know if I’m thinking clearly or if it’s just a temporary fad or interest, perhaps an escape.”

Doctor Ward nodded slightly, “I do not believe that is the case here. Naturally, I cannot make a full diagnosis from only one appointment, but I don’t believe that there is anything wrong with you. From what I can see, you are a textbook case of Gender Identity Disorder presenting with… well, having experienced gender dysphoria. Do you know what those mean?”

“That I felt my body was incongruous with my internal identity or sense of self and that I wanted to correct it through endocrinological and surgical means.”

Ward smiles, “You really are a doctor’s daughter. That honestly makes my life a lot easier, you clearly have done your research. How did you go about that?”

“School textbooks on psychology, the internet, a lot of confusion and missteps,” I admit. “I have always known how I felt but I didn’t know what to call it.”

“That’s a common sentiment,” she agrees, “and when you knew what it meant?”

I consider the question for a moment, “For a long time, I was under the impression that I would wait, that I would have to wait. I read so many stories about how badly coming out went for young people; and the terrible outcomes. I knew I’d have to hide it until I got to college so that I had somewhere safe to stay. It turns out that my stupid paranoid brain convinced me that it wouldn’t ever turn out like… well, this.”

“What do you foresee happening now?”

“I’d like to start living as Holly if I can,” I reply hopefully. “That would be nice, I know I’ll have to stay as Alex for some time, but I’d prefer not to.”

“What about school? Your parents said you’re meeting the principal at your school’s Girl’s Division, would you want to go there?”

“I have friends there so, I’d like to, I think.”

Doctor Ward nods, “Your mother mentioned two sisters that you are friendly with, correct?”

“Kara and Megan Byrne, yes. We’ve been friends since, uh, fifth grade? I was in School with Gary their brother and we all kinda got closer.”

“They know about Holly?”

“Megan and Kara yes, their brother no.”

“If you went to this school, your past would be known, is that something you’d be willing to experience?”

“I guess, as long as nobody is bad about it,” I admit. “I’m not ashamed of myself, but I’d prefer to be treated like a normal girl.”

“What about a different school where your past isn’t known?”

I consider the idea for a minute. “Sure, but I don’t know enough about being a girl yet. I would be too scared of being found out. At least this way I have my friends.”

Ward nods and makes a note. “A pragmatic approach and while I cannot speak beyond this session, I cannot see anything but a lovely young woman in front of me. Trust me, Holly, none of us know enough about being a girl at age sixteen; some of us just think we do.”

I nod, “I’ve learned so much from them already, but I know it’s only a tiny slice of the knowledge that Christine or my Mom have,. Life skills, experiences, and knowledge that I will need to make my way in the world.”

Ward frowned a little at my comment and looked almost sympathetic. “How did you become so pragmatic for one so young?”

“I didn’t exactly get a choice,” I smile. “I had to fix myself, nobody else would do it for me. I live in a world where people think I’m insane or a deviant for being born this way. Where people want to kick my ass for finding me attractive or if I express interest in aaaa….”

“In a… what?” Ward asked, perking up.

“Nothing.”

“That wasn’t nothing, Holly.”

Shit, she has me here.

“Fine,” I concede. “Interest in a boy.”

“Do you find boys attractive?”

Eh, in for a cent, in for a dollar, “I wasn’t into anyone at first. I was quite happily moving through the world really only thinking about myself. Once I began hormones, I, uh, well. I discovered that I found boys not entirely awful.”

The image of those two boys on that family vacation flashes through my head and I’m convinced that I turn fire truck red. The image slowly changes to Rick in board shorts dripping water and I’m pretty positive I start steaming like a kettle.

“I have a teenage daughter,” Ward points out, putting down her notepad and smiling like a shark. “It takes a mother, not a psychiatrist to know that your blushing means there is one particular boy, right?”

Fuck this woman, she’s far too good.

“Maybe,” I concede. Do I really need to tell her about Rick? This is a stinking huge issue that I have no idea how to resolve. What do I even do?

“I suppose there is one boy in particular that I kind of like,” I admit sheepishly. “He doesn’t know about me, technically.”

“Why do you say technically?” Ward asks, ceasing on the bone presented to her. “Do you think he suspects?”

“I don’t think he’s directly aware, but yes.” I begin. “At first, a friend told me that he was treating me like a girl rather than a boy. Over time I had come to see it too; I noticed the behaviors and his responses to me. We don’t think that he was aware that he was doing that.”

“We?”

“Meg, Kara, and Me.”

“Friends are very important to helping to give us emotional clarity,” the doctor nods. “Do you share things like this with your girlfriends often?”

“All the time,” I admit. “We share everything.”

“What do they think of this boy?”

“That my feelings are natural and normal. While I can’t exactly do anything about it, I should allow myself to be friends with him and just not worry about anything else.”

Ward nods, “That’s a mature approach. Do you think he suspects?”

I consider it. “I don’t think he does, but I think he’s confused by his attraction and behavior towards me. I think he genuinely wants to be my friend, but he’s not sure why he feels a certain way around me. I’m afraid that I’m confusing him.”

Carol Ward smiles sympathetically, “That’s probably true Holly, but it’s not your fault either. You do need to be careful though. More than one girl in your shoes has gotten herself hurt.”

“I’m more than aware,” I sigh. “More than aware.”

Doctor Ward glances at the clock and smiles. “We’ve made some good progress today. I’d like to bring Dad in before we wrap up, is that ok?”

“Sure,” I shrug. “Can we keep the boy stuff between us for now? I’d rather my parents got used to having a daughter without worrying about… you know, boy stuff yet.”

“Everything we discuss is between us, fear not,” Ward smiles.

A few moments later, she returns with Dad in tow and he takes a seat beside me on the sofa. “How did it go?” He asked casually. “Head feeling shrunk yet?”

“Like a South American cannibal totem,” I snarked back, almost causing Doctor Ward to spit out the water she was sipping at the time.

“Well Mister Winters, as you can see, Holly is in fine wit, undiminished by our time together.”

Dad eyed me and grinned, “that has never been a problem for my daughter.”

Damnit Daddy, I never tire of hearing that.

Ward closed her notebook and placed it on her lap as she faced us. “ As I mentioned previously, I am not fully prepared to give a formal diagnosis yet, not after only one session. When it comes to diagnosis of this type, especially for one at such a formative young age, it is imperative that we get it right.” she smiled and paused, holding her hands up towards me as she sensed my desire to comment.

“That is how we must proceed formally,” she admits. “It is the pathway to satisfy the system as it currently stands. Off the record, it’s more than plainly obvious to me that I’m sitting here talking to a delightful young lady who fully knows her mind and herself. Mister Winters, you and your wife have certainly set realistic and strong standards of modern womanhood for her to learn from, even if you didn’t know she was learning it from you.”

Dad glanced over and I sensed a pride within him in that moment that I’d never actually felt before. “Veronica, my wife, is my equal partner and in many ways, my intellectual superior. She and Christine are beautiful amazing smart women that I am incredibly proud to know. Holly takes after them and she couldn’t have finer role models.”

“That I can see,” Doctor Ward smiles. “I know you wanted to have something formal to present to your school this weekend. While I cannot formally diagnose her as Gender Dysphoric, I can provide a letter explaining that it’s extremely likely this will be my diagnosis and that she is under my treatment. Especially considering her… circumstances.”

She glanced over at me and smiled as she shook her head. “Holly here has put the cart before the horse in many ways. With starting hormone therapy before a diagnosis we miss a lot of the paperwork that would precede changing schools. I would like to send a letter to your family doctor to get bloodwork done and refer her on to an endocrinologist. Typically this is after a diagnosis, but I want her to be on safe and controlled hormone therapy.”

“We can make sure she gets that done Doctor,” Dad agrees. “And I would love to have something to give to the school, even if it’s preliminary.”

Ward nods, “I think that would be best. I do believe in this case her remaining with boys may well be harmful to her safety given her physical development. It’s exceedingly obvious that she would be far better served in an environment with other girls.”

“Does that mean I can transfer to the Girls Division?” I ask hopefully.

Dad pats my knee and shakes his head. “I don’t know Holly, but we’ll find out when we see the Principal on Friday. Regardless of that, you won’t be remaining with the boys for much longer.”

“Thank god, boys stink.” I grimace theatrically.

Dad rolls his eyes. “Definitely her mother’s daughter.”

 

 

We got home from the shrink a little after six that evening. In her infinite wisdom, Mother Dearest had ordered pizza from Al Dente’s, which was my ultimate comfort food. Nothing quite gets you over the emotional trauma of sharing your innermost feelings with a total stranger like double cheese and double pepperoni.

Doctor Ward had been an interesting experience. I had always known therapy would be a part of my transition, but it wasn’t one I was prepared to face. A little part of me had always feared being told I was crazy, and that this was all in my head, but I think the rather, unexpected, nature of my coming out had somewhat overrun me. I hadn’t had time to build up the panic and fear I might ordinarily have manifested when faced with someone holding my future in her hands.

Ward had been a kind woman, and one clearly very knowledgeable in the subject at hand. Was I a little salty that my parents had been seeing her since July? Hell, what if I had come out sooner? I might not have even had to go to school with the boys at all.

I was glad that they had someone to talk to, and in a way, I couldn’t fault them for it. This was a lot for me to process, and I had years to come to terms with my nature. For them, this was sudden and terrifying, I couldn’t begrudge them the help, but I was miffed we had all known but kept it from each other for so very long.

As I sat crosslegged on the sofa, munching a slice of gooey cheesy goodness, I felt contentment for the very first time in my life. Here I was, home with my family as Holly, their daughter, and sister. I was free of secrets, free of pain, and I could simply exist. Sure, I wasn’t finished, and I was still to face so many challenges in my life, but for the first time, I was pretty sure I could do it.

I'm not sure if Pizza or therapy helped more with that realization, but they both played their part. I highly encourage anyone with similar troubles to consult both liberally; you can’t be too careful.

Modern-day Holly again, I know I joke a lot and make fun of my situation, but I want you to understand that this is in hindsight. At the time, teenage Holly was fearful and uncertain and just barely coping with her situation. Honestly, for many years it wasn’t remotely funny. Looking back now at the past, I can see all of the perverse and twisted comedy of my experiences.

They made me the woman I am today. If you asked me then if I could flip a switch and be born female like my sister, I would have said yes. If you asked that same question now, I would say no. Not because I want to be transgender, but rather, because of what happened and how made me the woman I am today. That lost and confused kid became a far happier person. She found love and she found her calling in life. She still loves Double pepperoni and Double cheese Pizza, and she still relies on coffee to function. She is not perfect, but she’s living her life.

The most important part is she can now look back on this dumpster fire of her teenage years without it hurting. I challenge you to look at gender transition objectively, and not see the potential for comedy it holds. Awkward gender-related faux pas, moments of confusion, and the potential for silliness it holds are unlimited.

You’ve all read the stories and enjoyed the sweet and silly moments, but nothing is quite like living it. Especially when you make such a royal mess of it like I did. Yeah, at the time it’s mortifying, but afterward? That sitcom laugh track feels awkwardly appropriate.

 

 

A little later that evening, I was sitting in my room finishing my homework. With today being a day of introspection and reflection, I can’t really put off calling Chrissie now, can I? Mom and Dad told me that this had to come from me and I won’t lie, I’m a little apprehensive. Not a great deal admittedly, I’ve got a big fight over with; my parents. Christina was the one who I always hoped and expected would take this the best; here goes nothing I suppose.

I pull out my cell phone and search through the phonebook for her number and hit dial before I can back out of it. The phone rings for what feels like an eternity before I hear it answered.

“Hey Alex, sup?” Chrissie seems like she’s in a good mood and there’s music playing in the background.

“Hey uh, sis. How are you?”

“I’m good, but you don’t usually call out of the blue, what’s up?”

“Got time to talk?”

“Uh, sure, what’s going on?” I hear the music shut off and her tone becomes a little more serious. I guess I can’t chicken out now, it’s been a week since the folks found out, she’s the last to know… and she deserves to know.

“Um, Chrissie, I really need to tell you something important, but I need you to hear me out ok? I’d love to tell you this in person, but with stuff happening recently, I really can’t wait for that to happen. You.. uh, you deserve to know now.”

“Is this about the thing at school?” she asks. “It’s not something affecting you medically is it?”

“No, no it’s not,” I admit. I swallow the biggest lump in my throat ever and continue. “It’s connected, I guess. What happened last week brought something out into the open, something about who I am. It’s made me confront things that I was trying to keep hidden.”

There’s a pause, and then she speaks. ”Like what?”

“Do you know what transgender means?”

There’s an even longer pause and it feels like torture, “Chrissie?”

“I know what it means, Alex,” she replies evenly. “Why?”

Gulp.

“I’m trans, Chrissie; I’m a girl…I should be… I mean I’m… yeah.”

Eloquent as always Holly dearest, eloquent as always.

There’s a pause on the line for a moment and I can hear the sound of Chrissie breathing, “I understand, thank you for telling me, Alex.”

“You do?”

There’s a soft chuckle on the other end of the line, “I think I’ve been expecting this conversation for a while.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“I was talking to Mom this summer;” she admits. “You had changed a lot and you had started to look really girly. I guess it kinda hit me in the face that you were never really much of a boyish boy. Somehow you didn’t look effeminate, just…feminine.”

“It turns out that I was the only one I was fooling,” I sigh.

“So, you want to be a girl? I was doing some research once I got to school, learning what it all means.”

“Inside Chrissie, I’ve always been one; just like you and Mom. I never felt like Rob or Dad. Those changes you saw this summer were female hormones. This is who I want to be forever, the real me.”

Chrissie whistles, “That’s deep Alex, like forever deep. From what I read, this path is a one-way trip, realistically.”

“I know, and It’s the only direction I have to go, my heart is set, sis. Mom, Dad, and Rob all know. They found out in the wake of my attack. I don’t know how much Mom told you.”

“That you got your bell rung pretty bad. Admitted to hospital, concussion?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t look much like a boy anymore. The doctors, they assumed I was a girl and… things got complicated.”

“Sounds like you Alex, making a real mess of things.”

“You’re not mad with me?”

“No, I’m not mad,” Chrissie chuckles softly. “Like I said, I’ve been kinda expecting this, but you sure as shit made a hash of things…sister?”

I’m pretty sure my life was complete at that moment. My whole family accepts me as Holly. My big sister called me her sister; boom done.

“I love you, Chrissie.”

“I love you too, A…I don’t suppose you’re going to keep Alex are you?”

“Holly Juliette, it’s what Mom and Dad were going to call me if I’d been born right.”

“That’s nice,” she answers quietly. I can tell she’s smiling, as strange as it sounds. “My sister Holly; hmm; that has a nice ring to it.”

“That feels so good to hear you say,” I murmur softly. “Thank you Chissie.”

“What are you going to do about school? I assume you’re not staying with the boys, right?”

“No, we’re seeing the Girls' Principal on Friday, I hope I can transfer to finish up my time.”

“Ol’ Carlos isn’t too bad.” Chrissie opines. “She’s got a bit of a grumpy stuffy veneer but she’s a good woman deep down.”

“I hope so, I’m rather scared.”

“Be yourself, kid, be yourself. If you’re anything like me or Mom, you’ll kick butt, I know it.”

“I’ve been accused of being a lot like Mom.”

“Crap at keeping secrets, puts everyone else before herself, and irritatingly perky? God, please don’t become a cheerleader.”

“Trust me Chrissie, there’s zero risk of that. I consider the whole enterprise demeaning.”

“Good,” My sister chuckled, “test passed little sister.”

“I can’t wait to see you again,” I sniffle, feeling more than a little emotional by this point. “When are you home?”

“Hopefully Thanksgiving. I guess I know why Mom rang to tell me she and Dad had stumped up for plane tickets this week huh?”

“I can’t wait, I’ve really missed you, Chrissie.”

“You too A… Holly, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I admit. “It’s still new; I don’t expect anyone to be perfect. Plus I still gotta use that name for like… however long I have to pretend to be a boy.”

“Is that how it feels?” she asks, “like you’re pretending?”

“School is the only place Alex exists anymore,” I admit with a sigh of relief. “After it all came out, well… so did I. Outside of there, I’m just me, I’m just Holly now. Being Alex is pretending for me, it always has been. Now it’s just a bit more literal. I get up, I bind my boobs, hide my hair and slouch then go to school.”

“You poor thing,” Christine sighs. “I can’t wait to meet you properly soon.”

“I hate to do this kiddo, but I’ve got to get back to work on this project or my professor will have my ass, I’ll call home soon ok? Tell me how Friday goes, alright?”

“I will, and thanks Chrissie. Thanks for listening.”

“I got you, Holly, ok? I love you, sis.”

She hangs up and the tears start almost immediately. It’s not sadness, rather, it’s happiness mixed with relief. That, and a healthy dose of Estrogen thrown in for good measure. Now, other than school, I am now out to my entire family and they accept me for who I really am.

My greatest fear is dead; I won’t be shipped off to be cured and I get to be the real me. Sure the details are still a little fuzzy, but it’s going to happen. Being free is an emotionally violent feeling.

My sister called me Sis, my mother has called me her daughter, Rob, and Dad both love me… Maybe there is light at the end of this tunnel?

I think I might buy a lotto ticket.

Shit, I’m not Eighteen yet... Why me?

 

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Thursday started out totally and utterly normal if that’s even possibly a thing I can manage. I really can’t think of much to write about waking up, dressing for school, or going through the business of my ever-so-enthralling education. Let’s just assume that it went like previously described mornings. I faked Alex, and most people believed it to varying extents.

My trip to see the good doctor the night before was still at the forefront of my mind. While I knew who I was and always had, it was highly validating to be told ‘you’re not insane.’ by a medical professional. To have Mom and Dad know that their child had something she was dealing with and that it could be cured; by transitioning. It made my traumatic journey finally feel like it had a direction.

Some people feel as though being trans is enough, and that’s ok. I will admit, for myself at this time in the world, it really wasn’t. In the early 2000s, it was still super unknown and really misunderstood. Having a doctor tell me that it was real and that my entire childhood’s worth of frustration and pain was real and valid felt like breaking through thick clouds into the sunlight.

Was I expecting to get thrown on an operating table tomorrow and be in the girls’ school by Monday? No, that would be highly unrealistic, even for trans-fiction. I was already well aware that I’d have to wait till I was eighteen for any form of surgery and scholastically, the chances of them transferring me mid-term was quite low. Would I make Christmas? I didn’t like the idea, but it was most practical if I was honest. With my life at home my own, I was pretty positive that I’d make it in one piece, at least psychologically.

“Hey, Alex,” Rick called cheerfully as we made our way into the dining hall for lunch. “How’s it going?”

His hair looks so good today; I want to run my hands through it and… bad Holly, no. “I’m good,” I smile neutrally. “you?”

The big puppy dog grins like an idiot as he falls in alongside me. “Yeah, awesome. Still down for this weekend?”

It takes me a second to remember, it’s been a busy few days for me. “Oh, The movie? Yeah, I’m down; I can’t wait! Remember though, no horses, okay?”

“Oh yeah,” he grins, remembering our misadventure. “No horses this time, I promise.”

“No horses where?” Carson chips in as we take our places at the table.

“Oh, I was promising Alex that there would be no riding this weekend. Last time he was over he ended up in a creek.”

“I keep forgetting you’re a damn cowboy, Taylor,” the quarterback smirked. “What you guys doin’?”

“My sis got me this new movie release from Japan, we were gonna chill and watch it and play video games.”

“Bro, you still watching that Anime stuff?” Carson chuckled. “You’re such a nerd.”

“I like it, ok?” Rick replies not taking his friend’s words as insulting. “Your dumbass watches ancient reruns of fifties sitcoms, I don’t wanna hear it.”

Is this what it’s like when the cool kids defend watching Anime? Holy crap, perhaps it’s not fatal nardism after all.

The conversation continues while we serve out today’s offering to the baying hoard of Sophomores and Freshies. It’s so strange to feel genuinely included now, here at lunch. No longer is it something I suffer for the sake of fuel, but a genuinely enjoyable relaxing time of day. Carson and Rick include me in their conversations and others talk freely. Even the Sophomores who are capable of stringing a few words together around their food don’t feel the need to play up to Count Von Dickstain anymore. I don’t blame them; boys are impressionable.

It’s honestly a shame that I’ll leave this school soon. I know this is not where I belong, but it hasn’t been entirely awful. Ironically, it’s this semester that has made it the most pleasant and tolerable. I suspect a large portion of it is perception and perspective. Now that most people, hell, even the school know about me, I don’t feel anywhere near as afraid.

“You coming to the game tomorrow?” Rick asks as we’re walking back to the common room.

“I shou…. Oh, no I can’t, I’ve got a doctor’s appointment,” I fib professionally. Tomorrow about an hour before the game, I have my meeting with the Girl’s Division principal. The chances of me making it home, becoming Alex, and returning to the game? Impossible, as much as I love seeing Rob play.

“You got a Doctor’s appointment that late on a Friday? Damn, that sucks. You’re are alright aren’t you?”

“They just want to make sure I’m good after the concussion. Checkup stuff, and hospitals don’t live on normal hours I guess.” I shrug dismissively. I do detest lying, but it’s necessary here.

Rick nods his understanding as we enter the common room. “Still, it would have been cool to see you there. It’s inspiring to go out there knowing you got someone cheering for you.”

“Excuse me? I cheer for Rob, Buster.”

Rick shrugs, “Hey, it’s in the friendship contract that you gotta cheer for me too at games, you signed it.”

“Nah dude, you got this backwards.” Rob appears beside us throwing his arm around Rick’s shoulder. “Spike only cheers for the D line, not you glory boys."

Their fighting for my affection is… really surreal. “I’m going to start cheering on the opposition if you both don’t quit it already.”

“It’s gonna be weird is all, you not being there,” Rick shrugs.

“Oh, the dentist thing?” Rob asks, throwing his considerable size onto one of the poor tortured sofas.

Rick turns to me and frowns. “I thought you said, Doctor Alex?”

Panic, think fast… “Uh yeah, tooth doctor.”

“Tooth Doctor?”

“I mean… I guess. They are doctors after all?”

Rick looks at me like I’m crazy. “Are you feeling ok?”

I make a face, “I don’t think I am.”

 

 

I got back home on Friday afternoon after a generally worry-free day. I had survived all the pep rally nonsense and not a single gender-related shenanigan had occurred; magical, I know. Now, I found myself sitting on my bed trying to work out what to wear to one of the most important meetings of my young life.

“Nah, not the jeans, it has to be a skirt.”

Kara shook her head emphatically. “Pants, we need to show she’s a normal girl, not a stereotype.”

“She is here.” I sighed, rolling my eyes as my two best friends fought over my outfit.

Honestly, I’m still working out what I like to wear and I did the only sensible thing I could do; I called my BFFs. I’ve no shame in admitting I don’t really know how to girl what well yet. I might be female, but this kinda stuff is learned and not some innate built-in ability.

Meg rummages in my wardrobe and pulls out a white blouse, black vest, and a matching pleated skirt. “This; it’s simple, clean, and stylish. It shows who she is while being reserved. We couple it with some light makeup and leave her hair down and straight but pulled back from her face. It’s going to give ‘young, feminine with a side of virginal innocence.’ Hard to really call her a boy.”

“They’ll still think it,” I admit sadly.

“Not a chance,” Kara refutes adamantly. “Not a single person that actually meets you will think you’re a boy. Anyway, we’re coming with.”

“You are?”

“Yup,” Meg agrees. “We spoke to your Mom last night; we’re both coming along for moral support and to speak on your behalf.”

My heart melts at their support. “You didn’t have to do that, but I love you guys.”

Que the photo moment as we all have a good soppy cuddle. I’m not kidding, I love these girls. They have become the most important people to me in the world besides my family. Ever since they found out about me, they’ve treated me as an equal and a friend; for a depressed loner, it’s a wonderful feeling.

I change into the clothes that Megan had picked out. She’s always been the fashion-conscious sister and I trust her advice without question. I will admit, it feels a tiny bit preppy, but the girl looking back at me in the mirror looks like she would belong at our school. It’s almost a cross between our uniform and a country club day out.

Once I’m dressed, Meg brushes out my hair and clips it back behind my ears while Kara goes to start working on my face. We’re not going nuts; a little gloss, a little mascara, a tiny bit of powder to just take the shine off my skin and we’re done. Our goal is to hit school appropriately; show I fit with the other girls and that I can meet the uniform standards and not cause any trouble. Me? Cause trouble? I would never do anything of the sort.

When we’re done, the girl staring back at me in the mirror is undeniably that; a teenage girl. She looks ready to kick preppy butt, but she is, in fact, me. It’s not what most girls would wear to class day to day, but it might be what a conservative fuddy Principal will prefer.

The girls take off home to get changed into something schoolworthy themselves; shorts and camisoles aren’t likely to be suitable for the trip, out of school hours or not.

I’m in the kitchen getting myself a soda when Dad comes in the front door.

“Hey Dad, drink?”

The paternal unit stops in the doorway and just stares at me, a strange look on his face, “You look beautiful Holly.”

I walk over and hug him, “Thanks Dad, that means more than you can possibly imagine.”

He strokes my hair and lifts my face towards his. “You’re nervous, aren’t you?”

I consider the question before nodding slowly, “Yes, I suppose. I think a part of me would love to make it simple and go someplace where nobody knows me, but I think I have to face this head-on. I’ll be able to learn and make mistakes here, I can be myself and not have to hide all over again. I have Meg and Kara and I have Rob. I don’t want to throw that away.”

“That’s very mature of you Honey,” Dad admits, leaning back against the counter. “Both your Mom and I agree this would be the best situation for you. Tough? Sure, but it will be the best in the long run. It will set you up for college.”

“I’ll need to get past this meeting first.”

Dad winks. “You go this darling. I have absolutely no doubt that you’re going to knock ‘em dead.”

 

 

Arriving at school after hours is always a slightly surreal experience for any kid. Now try arriving at the girls' school, presenting to all the world as a girl, and accompanied by your parents; yeah, it’s some real twilight zone shit for a transgender person, I can tell you.

The distance from the visitor’s parking lot in the central quad was thankfully rather short. I’m not lazy, but with there being a home game tonight, I was quite nervous about running into someone I knew. The last thing I needed was all of this blowing up and out of my control.

With Meg and Kara in tow, we signed in at the front office and were permitted entry into the building. Being essentially a mirror of the Boys’ Division, I wasn’t entirely surprised to find the Principal’s office up the main staircase and on the south wing. Once the receptionist had deposited us in her waiting room, we were left to our devices.

“Feels weird being back after school,” Meg muttered. “I usually try to avoid the Principal’s attention.”

“Usually being the operative word,” Kara snickered. “It wouldn’t be your first time.”

The outer door opened and a tall Hispanic woman entered, wearing a beautiful charcoal skirt suit. She was in her early fifties by all reports, although her caramel skin appeared far more youthful than her age. Her dark, wavy hair was pulled back into an elegant Chignon behind her head. Spotting our group, she smiled warmly, although her lip quirked as she spotted Megan.

“I don’t believe we have a scheduled disciplinary for you today, Miss Byrne.”

“No Ma’am, not this time. We’re here for Holly.”

The woman’s eyebrows rose as she turned in my direction. Ah, Miss Winters.”

Gulp.

My Mother stood and offered her hand to the Principal, “Veronica Winters, Principal Carlos. My husband and I greatly appreciate you taking the time to see us this evening.”

The Principal took her hand and smiled. “These are most unusual circumstances, Mrs Winters, but I’m looking forward to speaking with you this evening. My colleague across the way has filled me in on a great many of the pertinent details.”

“Given the circumstances around that conversation, you can understand our desire to ensure our daughter’s safety.”

The Principal nodded and glanced across at me briefly. “Certainly, although I would love to speak with you both first on your own. Once we have covered some groundwork, perhaps Holly can join us?”

Ah, excluded from the adult table, deep joy.

Without further pleasantries, Mom, Dad, and the Principal retreated through the door and into her inner office leaving me and the sisters to our own entertainment.

“Well,” I sighed, glancing around the waiting room. “She seemed pleased to see me.”

“Eh, she’s always like that, don’t worry,” Meg waved dismissively.

Kara was about to make a cutting remark about her sister’s more colorful scholastic record when the outer door to the office opened and a rather familiar senior breezed in.

“Monica? What are you doing here?”

“Duh, It’s my Mom’s office.”

Sigh, why me? Wait, her Mom’s office… Oh fuck.

“Oh, yeah duh, silly me, of course it is!” I grin sheepishly. “You not going home before the game?”

“Nah, no point,” she shrugs, dropping into the Secretary’s chair and propping her high-heeled boots up on the table. “Kinda a waste of time with my pregame commitments. Plus, Mom wanted me to help her with something.” She glances at Meg and smiles like a shark, “you in the shit again, Megan?”

“Why does everyone always assume that I did something wrong?” Megan groans.

“Because you usually did,” her sister snerks, dodging an elbow in the process.

Monica turns her attention back to me and raises an eyebrow. “I’ve not seen you around since the game the other week, you really are a quiet mouse.”

Shit, shit, shit.

“Yeah, I guess I keep to myself a lot; I like the library.”

Monica raises an eyebrow and returns to digging through her handbag before pulling out a bottle of nail polish. “Fair enough I guess, each to their own. There is no reason to though, you seem pretty tight with these two.”

I glance at the two sisters beside me and smile, “Yeah, I am; they’re my best friends.”

“So why are you never in the common room?” She asks, idling touching up a chipped nail.

“She just really doesn’t like to mix with a lot of people,” Kara offered. Her expression told me she was as nervous as I was about this little complication.

“So what’s your Mom dragging you in here for after school that she can’t do at home?” Meg asks.

“Mom wanted me to meet with some new student who’s transferring in,” she shrugged dismissively. “Waste of my time honestly, but she wants to see what I think of them.”

I glance at Kara and grimace, “she’s going to find out in a minute.”

“Yeah, lay the groundwork?”

“What are you two on about?” Monica asks, furrowing her brow. “What am I missing here?”

“Uh, you know how you think I go to school here?”

Monica looks between the three of us and nods slowly, “yeah?”

“I do, but you’ve never seen me around… because I go to the boys’ division normally. I’m the one transferring… to here.”

Monica looks at me, I look at Monica. Somewhere, far away a penny drops.

Monica gawps at me and looks confused. “ but how? You’re a girl.”

I shake my head sadly, “not according to some.”

“Huh?”

Megan steps forward and takes my other hand. “She’s transgender, Monica, she was born a boy but she’s really a girl like us; it doesn’t matter where she started. Even you yourself thought she was a girl when you first met her and she was trying to be a boy back then.”

“But you were calling her Holly?”

“Well duh, we knew her real name, and… nobody was meant to overhear that.”

“I was supposed to be a boy then,” I admit with a sheepish grin. “As you can tell, I kinda sucked at that.”

“No shit,” Monica breathes. “So how the hell do you look like a girl?”

“Hormones,” I answer. “Long story short, I’m on medication to block the boy stuff and others to give me a girl’s puberty.”

“Dude, that’s wild.” the senior breathes. “I swear I thought you were just a regular girl this entire time. No wonder I never saw you around school.”

“You did kinda assume,” Kara points out. “Holly never lied though; she does go to our school and she is a junior… just over there.”

“How the heck do they think she’s a boy?”

Megan snickered, “Welcome to the dilemma.”

“You know, it’s nuts,” she admits. “Even now that I know about you, I can’t sense anything boyish. You’re like, super pretty, for real.”

“People are quite stupid,” Megan offers, “even her brother had no idea.”

“Oh god,” Monica gasps, slapping her hand over her mouth. “At that game where we met; afterward I called you Holly and Rob’s sister in front of him!”

I grin nervously. “Yeah… that kinda outed me.”

“He didn’t know already?”

I sigh. “I’ve been keeping it to myself until fairly recently. I was hiding because I was convinced everyone would hate me. Stupid, I know, but I was dumb and paranoid.”

“You poor thing,” she replies softly. “That’s rough.”

The door to the office opens and Principal Carlos looks in. “How are we doing in here?”

“We’re good Mom,” Monica offers. “I was just saying sorry to Holly.”

“What did you do?” She asks suspiciously, an eyebrow going up in that way all parents seem to be able to manage.

Monica gives me a sheepish grin before returning her attention to her mother. “A few weeks back I was chatting to the girls here after the game and I flubbed and called her Rob Winter’s sister in front of him because I thought she was at the time.”

“I don’t follow.” Principal Carlos replies, looking lost.

I step forward and smile nervously. “Ma’am, if I may? I was still presenting as a boy at the time like I do all the time at school. I was as yet not ‘out’ to my family about who I am. So when Monica saw me with Megan and Kara she assumed I was a girl and dropped me in it with my brother. It went ok in the end but she only just realized what had happened.”

“I see,” the older woman concluded. “Monica, the other thing?”

The senior girl looks at me and smiles. “Yeah Mom, even pretending to be a boy, she’s a girl.”

The Principal nodded and smiled thinly, “Thank you, Monica. Would you like to join us in my office, Miss Winters?”

With a last squeeze from Megan, I follow the Principal into her office and take the offered chair beside my parents. Once seated behind her desk, Principal Carlos turns her attention to me at last.

“As you may have gleaned from your conversation, I had asked my daughter to come here to give me her impressions of you Miss Winters. I hope you are not insulted, but I was not entirely certain who would be presented to me this evening. Having a student transfer from the Boys’ to the Girls’ Divisions of our great school isn’t something that I’ve ever had to deal with during my time here. I suspect it’s a fairly rare occurrence in our history, if it has ever happened at all.”

I sit in silence, unsure if I’m meant to say anything, but Mom and Dad don’t look upset; positive?

The Principal continues, “From what my daughter indicated just now and having spoken already with your friends this morning, I have no doubts you’d be far better suited with us than your current arrangement.”

“You spoke with Kara and Megan today?” I frown.

Principal Carlos nods, “They came to see me at lunchtime to speak in your favor. They indicated that they were aware we were having this meeting and wanted to lend their testimony. You have very loyal friends, Miss Winters.”

Her words filled my heart with joy. I knew that we were best friends, but they’d managed to keep that fact from me. I wasn’t mad, more happily surprised; I really love those two.

“I don’t want to cause a disruption, Ma’am.” I offer. “I realize this is very unusual but I just couldn’t cope living the way I was. Now, I’m struggling to stay under the radar with the physical changes that are happening to me.”

“Your parents informed me,” Carlos agrees. “From what my opposite number indicated, several teachers had expressed questions in that direction.

Oops.

“I didn’t set out to deceive anyone, but I wasn’t willing to let myself develop like a boy,” I admit quietly. “I couldn’t… become that.”

Principal Carlos smiled sympathetically. “I cannot relate personally but the concept seems unpleasant. Don’t think I have no sympathy for your case Miss Winters, but I also have an entire school of girls to care for and their parents. In an ideal world, this wouldn’t be a big deal, but our world is far from ideal. Attitudes to persons in your situation are not yet as enlightened as I’d hope.”

She looked towards the window before returning her gaze to me. “Tell me, Miss Winters. What do you hope to do with yourself going forward?”

Did she mean job? Education or next week in class?

“I hope to graduate and attend medical school. I’d like to be a doctor like my Mom. I’m working incredibly hard to keep my grades high, but I am losing out a little on phys ed.”

Principal Carlos smirked at that comment. “I can imagine that class is a little tricky for you presently.”

“Less so with the gym membership Ma’am, but yes, it’s still very awkward.”

“Loath as I am as a businesswoman to lose a paying student place, as an educator and a parent I have to ask, why wouldn’t you rather go to a school where nobody knows your past? Clearly, you would have no trouble being seen as a girl?”

I glance over at my parents before returning my attention to the Principal. “I’m really new at this; living my life correctly. I might look like any other girl but I don’t know much about how to function in society as a young woman. If I go to another school I might be taken as female, but I’d live in constant fear of discovery because I wasn’t equipped with the same lessons other girls have. I’d also be terrified that someone would discover that I’m different. If I come to school here, not only do I already have friends, but I can learn to move through this world like other girls do and I can do it safely. I’m not ashamed of being transgender, but I know I’ll need to focus on my studies, not ensuring nobody discovers my past.”

Principal Carlos smiles. “That’s an incredibly mature viewpoint, Miss Winters. This state says that as a transgender child under medical treatment, you are entitled to use the changing facilities and bathrooms with the other girls. What would you say to another girl who had an issue with your presence?”

“Obviously, I’d like to Ma’am,” I admit, “but I’m also aware that who I am will be no secret. I know some people might be uncomfortable with the idea. I don’t want to force myself on anyone against their will. I’d rather use a gender-neutral or disabled bathroom and the same would go for changing rooms; I might have the right to do so, but I have to consider how I’d feel in their place.”

I blush slightly and pause, “I would never dream of doing anything inappropriate, I’m… not interested in girls, Ma’am.”

The Principal’s lip quirks slightly at my remark and I think she is picking up what I’m putting down. “The staff and I would be willing to protect your right to use those spaces, Miss Winters, but I can accept your desire to consider other's feelings. When you attend this school I’ll make the staff toilet available for your use. If you change your mind and wish to use the girls' facilities, I have no problem with that.”

“When, Ma’am?”

Principal Carlos smiles and nods. “Yes Miss Winters, Starting on the first day of the Spring term, I look forward to welcoming you as one of my students.”

Mental calculations; it’s the start of November, which makes it six weeks until the end of the semester. That’s going to be quite a challenge, but it’s not insurmountable, probably.

“No sooner?” My mother asks. “I’m sure you can see, Holly is struggling to present as a boy, even now.”

The Principal smiled apologetically, “I’d give her a place today, but with her studies where they are, I’d feel better with her finishing out the Fall semester where she is. This way she’s in the right place academically. It’s also far less disruptive to class sizes and placements if we introduce a new student at the start of the semester if possible. If I recall correctly, she’s also on a class trip this December, correct?”

“Yes Ma’am, to Germany.”

Principal Carlos nods, “It would be less disruptive, especially considering that. Imagine if we transfer your daughter and she ends up attending this trip and confronting her former classmates in a foreign country. I would also be right in assuming her paperwork and passport are all currently in her, old, name?”

“Yes, that would be correct.” Mom concedes, shooting me an apologetic look. “This has been rather sudden for us.”

Carlos smiles apologetically. “As you can see, this would ease multiple potential issues for her, and my colleague across the way is in agreement that this would be most suitable. I realize it might be difficult for you, but patience will be a virtue.”

“On that note, to ensure your safety, we will need to tell your teachers for your Germany trip, and otherwise a select few will be made aware to ensure your privacy and safety are paramount. In addition, your requirement to attend gym class, even the off-site membership will be waived without impacting your grade.” The principal paused and smiled. “That of course will change in January once you’re one of my girls. I’ll expect full regular participation, Miss Winters.”

I couldn’t hide my smile, “Yes Ma’am.”

When we walked back out into the foyer, the grin on my face was enough to tell Meg and Kara what the result was. Before I could make it three feet, I was assaulted by huggles.

“I assume this pleases you two?” Principal Carlos enquired, watching the giggly bouncy mess happen before her.

“Yes Ma’am,” Kara grinned. “We’re excited to have Holly where she belongs.”

“She’s very lucky to have friends like you two.” she agreed. “I look forward to seeing you in January Miss Winters.”

As we walked back downstairs, I spotted Monica waiting at the foot of the stairwell. Sensing she wanted to talk, the others went on ahead and left us be.

“Hi,” I offered, not quite sure what to say at that moment. “Your Mom seems nice.”

Monica smiled and shifted her weight awkwardly. “Yeah, Mom’s pretty good, but having your parent be a teacher is bad. When they are the Principal? God it never ends.”

“Try having one that’s a doctor,” I offer in return.

“Look,” Monica begins, giving me an earnest smile. “I really had no idea about your brother, I’m so sorry I put you in a weird position.”

“It’s not your fault,” I shrug. “Well, it is, but it’s ok. This semester has been its own wild rollercoaster of mess because of me.”

“Still, I feel like I owe you an apology. You seem like a decent girl and I promise I’ll keep your secret, ok?”

“That means a great deal to me,” I answer honestly. “If I can make it till the end of the semester, it doesn’t matter. But while I have to go to school with those boys? I’d really rather it didn’t get out any sooner.”

Monica nods, clearly understanding what I’m putting down. She steps forward and hugs me. “Best of luck making it six weeks Holly. I can’t see how they manage to not spot the babe in their midst.”

I shrug and make a face, “I Just hope none of them plan to become cops, they kinda suck at spotting things in front of them.”

 

 

Mom knocked on my door a little later that evening before letting herself in. My homework finished, I had actually been reading a teen magazine; something I was able to finally enjoy guilt-free.

“How are you feeling after today, honey?” Mom asks, sitting down beside me on the bed and stroking my hair.

I roll over and close the magazine before squidging up beside her. “I’m ok,” I admit. “I would have liked a better outcome, but I suppose it makes sense. I’ve made it this far, I’ll manage.”

Mom smiles a little sadly and hugs me to her side. “You shouldn’t have to. This is still a lot for me to really process, but seeing you these last few weeks has made it all the clearer for me. Seeing my child smile and look genuinely alive is all a parent could possibly ask for. It might not be what I expected when I gave birth to you, but I’d be a fool to not see how much happier you are.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Holly. Your father and I are both genuinely glad that our daughter is so considerate of our feelings and everyone else, but don’t forget to live for yourself too. We’ll manage, we’re your parents. It’s our job to support you and we would be a pretty poor example if we didn’t.”

“There are so many kids, so many people in my situation that don’t have that,” I sniffed. “So much hate, mistrust, disgust. I’m sorry I let myself believe you’d be anything other than my best friend.”

I can see a glint in Mom’s eye as she looks at me, it’s not sadness, but there’s an emotional moment we’re both sharing. I see Mom as the woman she is in that moment, the adult human who realized she didn’t know all the answers, but chose love anyway. The truth is, she was and is forever my hero.

“I booked you in to see Doctor Harris again on Tuesday, ok? We’re going to get your bloodwork done and get you sorted out properly. Doctor Ward wants that before she sends you on to an Endocrinologist.”

“Is this real?” I murmur, frowning uncertainly. “It doesn’t feel real that this is all happening… I never dreamed.”

“It’s happening, honey,” Mom squeezes. “At the end of the day, your happiness comes first and we’re going to make sure that we do everything we can for you. We’re lucky enough to have good insurance, good jobs, and our health. You might need to wait for school, but we will make sure you’re doing this right before then. That includes getting onto properly monitored medication prescribed by an actual doctor.”

“Are you mad that I took matters into my own hands?”

Mom pauses before answering. I can see the conflict between the parent and the doctor. “Yes and no, but I want you to let me explain.” she begins slowly, squeezing my leg. “I am worried, as a mother, that you took unregulated medication that has such a powerful effect on your development and your body. I am worried that it might not be pure, or authentic or that it might have hurt you. I am proud, as a parent that you did your due diligence and research; I cannot ask for more as a parent than a child who thinks before she leaps. I don’t directly understand the desperation that drove you to that choice, but I can, as a doctor and a mother, appreciate that it did. I don’t need to understand the pain to know what pain feels like honey.”

“I’m sorry,” I admit quietly. “I didn’t want to worry you guys.”

“It’s our job to worry, darling.” Mom chuckles, squeezing me tight. “That’s what we signed up for when you were born.”

I smirk and glance over at Mom beside me. In many ways, we look so similar and I am so very proud of that fact. I’m proud of the woman she is and the example she has set for me in life. Regardless, I am still a shit-stirrer at heart, and I cannot resist the urge for a quick poke.

“I hope you got the extended warranty...”

 

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

 

 

Turning up at Rick’s place that Saturday evening was a fine balancing act in personality hopscotch. I had managed to tame Holly back into a reasonable facsimile of Alex, no mean feat given that he didn’t really exist anymore outside of school. The trickier part was, that while I had to restrain myself from being too feminine around Rick, I had to somehow not shatter his mother’s apparent impression that I was not just female, but his girlfriend. What the hell do I get myself into?

See, this is where I realize that non-trans folks are utterly oblivious to gender variance unless it’s screamingly obvious. It must be a blessing honestly, to be able to exist in a world where that just doesn’t matter. I could make a joke about how boys are dumb, and we could all laugh, but in reality, it’s more than that. Everyone really just makes assumptions and nobody questions them too hard. As much as we might want there to be, there’s usually no ulterior motive.

I was waiting outside Willy’s store when Rick’s truck pulled into the lot. While I was a little better prepared for the country this time, I certainly wasn’t going native any time soon. Before you get your hopes up for a romantic moment, I was in my usual Alex drag of jeans, a tee, and a hooded sweatshirt. Granted, this time the jeans were actually a girl's slouchy boyfriend cut pair, but they looked more gender-neutral on me than any of my old ones. Did I look like a rampant tomboy to most people? Probably. The trick was managing to still look boy enough for Rick, and girl enough for his mother. Why is my life this complicated? Oh wait, my bad.

“Hey Alex, you make it ok?”

I climbed up into the cab before he could do anything dumb like jump out to help me. “I didn’t have to wait too long and nobody tried to stick me on a horse yet.”

Rick sighs and shakes his head, “You’re not going to let me forget that one, are you?”

“Eventually,” I grin, “but for now It’s a pretty strong reminder of why I don’t belong on horses.”

Rick shrugs and turns us out of the parking lot. “Nah, you’ll get the hang of it, I promise. It’s fun, really when you get the hang of things.”

I sniff in the alluring scent of cheese and meat that is filling my nostrils. “Pizza?”

Rick gestures in the back seat with his thumb and we hit the main road out of town. “Couple of fresh pies from Antonio’s; Sausage and Bacon and four cheese. That should be enough to see us through the movies.”

I approve of the selection. I’m a little pleased that he remembered the pizza we got when we went into the city that one time, just the two of us. Secretly, I let the tiniest part of myself believe it was a boy/girl date. I remembered the waitress calling me miss and how secretly, it overjoyed me. Sadly, I have to push those feelings down; I can’t allow myself to feel that way no matter what it does to me. It was hard to suppress my feelings when I was still living as Alex, but now that I’m Holly everywhere but at school, it’s almost unbearably difficult.

After the short drive, Rick turns the truck down their driveway and into the yard. As we roll to a stop beside the house, the first thing I spot is the absence of his parent's cars.

“Home alone?”

Rick glances over and nods. “Oh, yeah. Mom and Dad went into the city to some art gallery thing. Mom’s on a board for local artists.”

I hadn’t really connected his down-to-earth Ranch wife Mom with the city art scene but then again, I’m a kid; what do I know? At least with his folks out, I don’t have to deal with the girl stuff for one evening. I actually feel a good amount of relief.

Rick hands me pizza boxes and I follow him up to the house. Once inside, I follow him through to their magnificent kitchen.

“I still can’t believe you live here, this place is amazing.” I opine, staring around their cavernous space.

“Your place is hardly small,” Rick points out grabbing sodas from the refrigerator.

“I’ll give you that,” I concede, “but yours is on another level; I could live in your bathroom pretty comfortably.”

“Only because you’re so tiny,” Rick chuckles. “Pretty sure you’d consider one of the stalls a mansion. Come on, let's go set the movie on before these pizzas go cold huh?”

“Sure Gigantor, lead the way.”

We make our way through to the living room and set up camp on their huge sofa. Naturally, we pick comfortably distant spots from each other. What? Did you think I was going to accidentally lay my head on his shoulder halfway through the movie? Get a grip, this is real life not some cheesy piece of trans lit.

I’ll give him credit, scoring a copy of Howard’s Mobile House was a great coup. I’d been expecting to wait up to six months for it to become available in America. A copy direct from Japan is a pretty epic score. Considering that the Taylor family’s TV is huge, this is as good as going to the movies.

We start the movie and tuck into our pizza, I can honestly think of a lot worse ways to spend an evening. There’s not a lot to describe here; if you’re into Anime, you’ve totally seen this classic. If not, you won’t care anyway. Two glorious hours pass by, and before we know it, the movie is over. Honestly, I’m a little sad.

“That was amazing,” I enthuse gleefully as the final credits roll. “The Kiss with Potato Head and Sarah that broke the curse. Then she fell in love with Howard; it was just so sweet.”

“Steady on!” Rick laughed as he ejected the movie. “You sound like Anna when we used to watch these movies together as kids. She was always so caught up in the soppy bits.”

I sit back and shrug, “It’s a great happy-ever-after ending; you can’t help but feel good about it.”

Rick rolls his eyes, “I mean yeah, the prince heading back and ending the war, and the whole scene at the end when the bombers heading off to a new war somewhere else was kinda powerful.”

“Well, I liked the soppy bits,” I reassert. “You’ve gotta thank your sister for me. I loved it.”

Rick smirks and shakes his head. “I’m going to take a leak, want to watch another?”

“Sure.”

Rick takes off and I busy myself cleaning up our mess. It won’t do to have his parents come home and find the place a tip. He might get away with it, but I’m a conscientious guest, first and foremost. I carry the boxes through to the kitchen and toss our cans in the trash. I’m in the process of getting us fresh drinks when Rick returns.

“You didn’t need to clean up you know.”

I toss him a soda and grin, “I hired myself as your cleaning lady like Sarah did.”

“Oh you’re my cleaning lady?” he replies raising an eyebrow. “You don’t look ninety.”

“I’m a bit more spritely than that, sure, but I can clean just as well.”

Rick opens his mouth, as though he is going to say something else but chooses instead to turn red. “Ah, never mind,” he mutters awkwardly. “I have the second Space Conflict prequel, wanna put that on?”

Why the hell did I call myself the cleaning lady? Ugh, I’m an idiot with a magical ability to kill a perfectly nice evening. I nod and avert my eyes, “sure Rick, that sounds good.”

The second movie is a bit more awkward after my faux pas, but soon we’re more focused on the TV than my big mouth. Honestly, I’m not that bothered by the film; I’ve seen it before. It does however provide a pretty reasonable distraction for my mind that allows me to drift off to sleep.

I woke up what felt like moments later curled up on the sofa by myself. The TV was quietly scrolling through the credits of the movie we had been watching and there wasn’t a single sound in the house.

“Rick?”

There was no answer, although I didn’t think that he had gone to bed, because his phone was still sitting on the sofa arm where he had left it earlier. I got up slowly and stretched as I glanced around. It’s exactly as we had left it, almost as if I’d slept for only a moment. I couldn’t have been out for more than fifteen minutes, twenty tops. Where has he gotten to?

I can see the moonlight streaming through the windows on the far wall. There’s a slight movement on the porch, and I realize after a moment that it’s a human figure out there in the darkness. I move cautiously over to the window and peer out. After a second, I spot Rick leaning against the balcony railing just staring off into the distance.

I open the door and step outside. He spins around as he hears my approach, he looks surprised, like I caught him doing something wrong.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I offer awkwardly. “I was just wondering where you vanished off to.”

“Oh, Alex, I’m sorry. I just needed some time to myself; to think, you know?”

He looks troubled and I’ve never seen him behaving like this before. I can tell he’s struggling with something and by the look in his eyes, I know it’s me. I make a face and sigh, my breath misting in the cool night air. How the hell have I fallen so far? I made myself one simple promise and I couldn’t even keep that. Megan’s prophecy so long ago was entirely correct; I really do care for him and it hurts not being able to do anything about it. I should have just steered clear from the moment she told me what she could see was happening. I wrap my arms around myself and smile sadly. “I’m so very sorry Rick.”

“Why are you sorry?” he blurts out. He looks surprised, as though he was terrified that I could read his mind. “None of this is your fault… how could it be? I… Alex… fuck.”

Rick turns away and runs his hands through his hair. He looks distraught, and I’m starting to realize why. When he turns back to face me, he looks like he’s almost on the edge of tears.

“I don’t… I don’t even know where to begin,” he admits. “I’ve never… hell, I’m struggling to even say it.”

I step closer, reach out, and touch his arm. It’s a comforting gesture, but one I recognize is more Holly than Alex. Suddenly, I don’t give a fuck about hiding myself around him anymore. “What is it, Rick? You can talk to me, I promise.”

He glances down at my hand on his arm and seems to freeze for a second as he stares at it, not able to pull his arm away. I can feel him trembling under my touch, but I’m not sure if it’s because of the cold or his nerves. He glances back up at me, and his eyes are wide with fear. His mouth opens like he wants to speak but he gulps before glancing away. “Alex… I… I think I’m gay.”

I had been so selfish, I should have stayed away from him. I should never have allowed myself to get close to him or to develop these feelings. I should have just kept my head down and not allowed myself to tempt fate. I thought I could straddle the line and just be friends with the guy. Now, he’s suffering because of me. I’ve put him in the exact position I didn’t want to and I know what he’s feeling, but I need to hear him say it.

“Why do you think that?” I whisper hesitantly, not taking my eyes away from his.

“Because… I think that I’m, in love with you,” he croaks out. “I’ve barely been able to stop thinking about you. From the moment I first laid eyes on you, when the semester started, there was something; something special about you. As we got to know each other I’ve gotten these urges, these desires. Somehow, our friendship just isn’t enough. I can’t stop thinking about holding you or kissing you whenever we’re together. God this must be… I’m so sorry.” he blurts, the anguish evident on his face.

“Back there on the sofa when we were watching the movie, you fell asleep. You looked so peaceful lying there, so beautiful.” he smiles softly, a wistful look in his eyes. “I just wanted to take you in my arms and hold you tight. I don’t know why, I’ve never felt like this before,” he admits. “Nobody else ever captured my heart like you did. I thought I just wanted to be friends, that this was what real friendship felt like but… it was more.”

Here we go Holly, time to ironically have some balls. This is the pivotal moment where I might find happiness or it might destroy my life. I’ve gotta roll the dice here and run the gauntlet of fantasy ending or get my ass kicked and buried in a shallow grave, god I love being trans.

“You’re not gay,” I reply quietly, looking away from him for the first time. “I would need to be a boy for you to be gay, Rick.”

There is silence as I listen to my heart beating against my ribs. I can feel the deep blush rising in my cheeks despite the cold night air.

“I… don’t understand,” he murmurs, his voice catching with emotion. I can feel him standing so close to me now, that I can sense his body heat radiating out. “What do you mean you would need to be a boy for me to be gay?”

“I’m a girl,” I confess quietly, unable to meet his eyes. “At least, I should be.”

“You’re… how? But I’m…?”

I glance up at him cautiously. He’s not angry, he just looks confused. I would be too in his position. Hell, I have no idea what I’m doing. None of this was planned, but I’m making it up as I go alone like so very much in my life.

“I’m transgender, I should have been born a girl, Rick.” I explain, “Long story short, In my heart and soul, I am like my Mom and sister; a girl. I need to be that, with every spark of my being. It’s who I am, and I cannot live as a boy. I’ve been on female hormones now for about eight months. I’m just trying to tread water until Christmas when I can leave this school and transfer to the Girls’ Division. Then, I don’t know; maybe I can live the rest of my life.”

In for a cent, in for a dollar. I reach up, unzip my sweatshirt, and shrug it off my shoulders. Underneath, I’m only wearing a T-shirt and my sports bra, but my shape is pretty obvious, even in the dim light of the porch. Reaching up, I pull the hair tie out of my ponytail and shake my hair out until it flows down around my shoulders. I swallow and I look back up at him defiantly, I stand before him as Holly Juliette Winters.

“This is who I am; this is the real me.”

Rick’s eyes grow wide. What he’s seeing for the very first time is the girl me that hides just behind the surface at school. Like Meg and Kara said, it can be a little jarring when your mental image of someone snaps in two. It’s surprising just how set in their ways people can be. I haven’t changed a lot, but I’m confident he’s seeing me in an entirely new light.

I shiver involuntarily, the porch isn’t exactly T-shirt weather. Rick just stares at me, his eyes flicking around as his jaw moves wordlessly.

“Say something, please.” I implore.

Rick looks at me and shakes his head slowly as though he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “My god, you’re beautiful, Alex.”

“Holly.”

“Holly?”

“My real name is Holly.”

Rick smiles again, “That’s a really pretty name, it suits you.”

If I could soak my panties at this point, they would be like Niagra freaking Falls, more to the shame sadly. All the same though, my heart does that squishy pang thing at his beautiful words.

He looks almost embarrassed now and he grins in the way that I just love so much. “I have no idea how I didn’t see any of this. I was… so, caught up in my own head; I thought I was falling in love with a boy. I was battling the feelings that I was gay; I fought it, tried to deny it but in the end, I just, couldn’t… I had to tell you,” he admits. “Oh, gosh, I never even thought. Do you even like boys?”

“I like boys,” I whisper breathlessly, “and one in particular, I guess.”

“A…Holly,” he murmurs softly, reaching out to take me by the shoulders. I step forward and allow him to wrap me in his arms. “Holly, I’ve dreamed about this moment for months. I told myself I was crazy but… is this for real?”

I want to scream out loud when he says my real name. I nod slowly, “It’s real. I’m not… perfect, but it is real.”

Rick shakes his head and smiles so sweetly that it hurts my very heart. “You are perfect, Holly, just the way you are.”

With that, he leans down and gently presses his lips to mine. Suddenly, the air isn’t even cold anymore. I melt as his lips caress mine and I find myself gasping for oxygen. He doesn’t wait as I feel his tongue gently caress my bottom lip.

We kiss for what feels like hours, our only accompaniment the moon and stars above. My heart is singing a song I never expected to hear with words that were once but a distant dream. I don’t know what I’m doing or if it’s even sensible. Honestly, at this moment, I don’t even care. In that time, that place, my heart and soul have but one focus.

Eventually, Rick breaks the kiss and smiles gently down at me, his eyes are so full of affection. “We should get you inside, it’s freezing out here.”

“I can’t even tell,” I murmur back at him, a lazy grin on my lips. I let him take me by the hand, my legs still slightly unsteady after our kiss and he leads me back inside the house. I can’t believe this is happening, it feels like a fairytale.

How the hell did this happen? Here I am with a boy that seems to like the real me. A boy that is holding my hand, a boy that has kissed me. He has seen my truth and he accepts me for who I really am. I cannot begin to explain to you how very monumental this is for someone in my shoes.

Inside, out of the cold, I suddenly feel extremely uncertain of myself. I allow my hand to slip from Rick’s as we walk through, into his family’s living room. Instead of following him, I just stand, rooted to the ground, and doubt myself. Even now, I have no idea why I could not allow myself to just accept that a good thing could happen to me.

“Holly?” he asks nervously. “Did I do something wrong?”

I shake my head, “this is real, isn’t it?”

Rick smiles; it’s that classic Rick smile with the slight quirk to the right-hand side that sits halfway between a smirk and a grin and it just moves my mountain. “Yeah, I can’t believe it, but it’s real. It feels like I’m dreaming.”

I walk forward nervously and take a seat on one of the sofas.

“I wasn’t planning to tell you like this,” I admit with a sigh. “I… was trying to deny how I felt about you, about us. I was convinced that you would hate me, that you would resent me for what I could see I was doing to you.”

Rick chuckles quietly as he sits down beside me, “Yeah, I’ve been a little confused. I did kinda have a major identity crisis. I’ve never been attracted to boys before, and here I was falling for someone I was convinced was one. Typical luck though; only I could manage to fall for the only girl at an all-boys' school and be convinced I was gay.”

“Sorry about that,” I grin sheepishly.

“How the hell does anyone in school see you as a boy?”

“You did,” I point out, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I guess my eyes did, but I don’t think my heart ever did,” he confesses. He frowns before looking back at me. “I think that somehow, somewhere in my head, my heart, I’ve seen you as a girl from the first moment we met.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told a few times that I suck at hiding.”

“Megan and Kara, right? Your friends?”

“They were the first to find out about me back at the start of the semester.”

Rick nods, “That makes sense. You know, that very first game of the year, when you came over to see your brother with them, I thought it was three girls at first.”

“It was.”

“Your Brother, Rob, he knows right?”

I nod, “my family knows. Rob, he looks out for me at school.”

He shakes his head, “I can’t believe you still go there.”

“I have to hold on,” I sigh. “They said I can transfer at the end of the semester, it’s not so long.”

“That’s insane,” he murmurs, it must be so hard for you.”

I feel him slide closer and wrap me in his arms. There’s nothing sexual about this moment, I just feel safe; protected. It’s an intoxicating feeling that I never want to let go.

“I was so afraid that my parents would hate me, I just… I was going to kill myself.” I admit. ”Last Christmas.”

“Oh my god….”

I shake my head and hold a finger to his lips. “Let me finish, ok? Then you can say your piece.” I sigh and relax back into his arms, my back now to his chest. “I’ve always felt this way; that I should have been born a girl. It’s the one memory that overrides all of my childhood. Last Christmas, puberty was starting to rear its ugly head, and… I couldn't… I just couldn’t become like my brother,” I choke.

After a moment to collect myself, I continue. “I… I had to do something, so I managed to source medication online. I took medications that stopped my puberty and started me on the path I should have been. I was told it would take time, I’d be able to hide it for a year or two until I got to college but I don’t think they accounted for my age,” I chuckle darkly. “It’s becoming impossible to hide my changes.”

“You’re telling me,” he chuckles. God that feels amazing, I can feel the vibrations rolling through my body.

I twist around until I’m sitting across his lap. It’s a little more intimate than I had planned, but here we are. I look up at him and smile nervously. “Can I kiss you? Is that ok?”

His smile is all I need. Slowly, my heart thumping I reach up and cup his face in my hands. He looks as nervous as I feel. I lift myself up and press my lips against his. The tingle of sensation rushes through me and I feel electrically charged. Arms wrap around me and hold me firmly as I feel his tongue probing at my lips. I let them part and feel his tongue entering my mouth.

At this point, my breath is ragged and I can barely sense the world around me. I’ve shifted somewhere in our liplock to straddling his lap, my thighs on either side of his so our faces are almost level.

“Rick.” I gasp between gulps of air, “Oh god, Rick.”

I feel his arms grip my sides and lift me as he lays me back until I’m beneath him on the sofa. Our bodies touch and I can’t keep the moan of pleasure inside me.

“Am I hurting you?” He asks, lifting himself slightly, his face full of concern.

“No,” I whisper and grip his hips with my thighs, “not even a little bit.”

I can feel… lil’ Rick pressing against my pelvis down below and it feels… significant. I block that thought from my head and focus on the moment. This isn’t going to be happening tonight, but just the thought alone seems to flip some switch in my mind. A desire I never knew I had to have… him… within me.

I can feel his hands roaming along my sides as we kiss, his hands gripping my body so firmly yet so gently that I feel utterly safe. I slide my fingers up underneath his shirt and run my hands across his abdomen. His skin is hot and firm and I can feel the hair against my fingers. A moment later, I feel him reciprocate and I gasp out loud as he touches my bare flesh.

“Oh god, don’t stop,” I whimper, biting his lip.

Rick’s fingers reach the bottom of my bra and he looks momentarily uncertain. Driven by passion I push him back slightly and shrug out of my shirt so I’m now lying there in just my sports bra and jeans. Rick’s eyes roam my body and I can see the pure lust in his eyes; it drives me wild. Quickly, he tosses his own shirt before leaning back down and kissing the skin of my upper chest. His lips feel like molten lava against my skin, and I feel his hands roaming along my body.

I don’t think I could possibly be more happy if I tried. In this moment, I feel so utterly wonderful that I might cry tears of joy. I feel a hand slide up and cup the side of my breast through the fabric of my bra and eyes that glance tentatively at me for permission. Reaching down I grab his hand and place it gently against my left breast. Right then and there I want him to touch me, I want it so badly.

The gentle squeeze is all I dreamed of as his fingers gently tease me through the fabric and I cannot hold back a whimper of ecstasy. At that moment, I would be willing to give him anything in the world.

Really romantic huh? Getting excited? I bet you are. Unfortunately, this is when the most poorly timed cockblock of our young lives strikes. What is the female version of a cock block I hear you ask? I’m a little torn between Clitorference and Clam Jam, but I digress. Trust me, it sucks If you’ve been there.

Picture this; Mister Lover Boy has his hands tentatively on my boobs when we hear the crunch of tires and the splash of headlights from the darkened yard outside. Both of us panic, our explorations forgotten as we grab for discarded clothing and spring to our feet. Somehow, we’re just about presentable in time for the front door to swing open and Rick’s parents to walk casually into the house.

Picture this for a moment if you will, because this moment is seared into my memory for all eternity. Rick and I are stood next to each other, both bright red in the face and breathing heavily. My hair is loose, and my T-shirt is pulled up exposing half my abdomen and the shape of my boobs is incredibly obvious to even a blind man. Our lips are red and swollen from kissing and the pair of us look guiltier than sin.

Rick’s mother is the first to spot us and she looks a little surprised but hides it well. His father, however, is grinning like a fool… men!

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Rick’s Mom exclaims, grabbing her husband’s hand and steering him towards the kitchen. “We sent you a text message to tell you we were on our way home, honey. We thought you’d be… elsewhere.” She looks a little embarrassed, but it’s not a patch on us. “John come on, let’s let them pull themselves together.”

“I uh, sorry… Mom, Dad,” Rick blurts, “I uh…”

“Don’t worry, sorry for disturbing you honey,” she calls over her shoulder as she vanishes with a still-grinning father.

I look up at Rick and shrug, “they don’t seem surprised at all.”

“Uh… no,” he admits scratching his head.

“Why did they text you?”

Rick pulls his phone out and reads it then raises his eyebrows and shows me the phone.

Mom - We’re coming home, please be clothed when we get there. Love Mom.

“The fuck,” I splutter, shooting Rick a bemused look. “Why does your mother presume we were sleeping together?”

“I.. have no idea,” he admits slowly. “Look, Holly…”

I swallow and sheepishly pull my shirt all the way down, “you’d best call me Alex around other people. I…”

“I understand,” he nods, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear affectionately. “I’ll go see them, I’ll be back in a minute.”

Rick leaves the room and I slump down on the sofa. I’ve just made out with a boy, a boy who knows I’m a girl and sees the real me. To cap this weird ass evening off, his parents came home and absolutely knew we had been making out. holy shit; how do I end up in these situations?

Rick gets back a few minutes later and he’s looking far too pleased with himself. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

“What did they say?” I ask, following him out the door. “Your parents?”

“I’ll tell you in the truck.” he grins, come on.”

We leave the ranch house and walk out across the yard to his truck by the barn. I don’t bother with my sweatshirt but I wrap my coat around myself tightly against the chill as we walk. God, I feel so happy right now I cannot even begin to explain it. I don’t even have to hide anymore, it’s unspeakably freeing.

Rick gets the door for me and gets that same tummy squish feeling. I pop up on the balls of my feet and kiss him gently in thanks before hopping up into the cab. I don’t know why, but doing something so simple feels so damn good right now. He climbs in beside me and starts the truck.

“So what happened in there; what did they say?” I ask as we turn out of the ranch yard and head towards the main road. I already have a pretty fair idea, but I’m playing dumb.

Rick grins at me in the gloom. “Well, it turns out that I really was the only one who thought I was gay,” he shakes his head. “My parents were giving us a little space tonight when I told them you were coming over. You know… for things that boys and girls get up to.”

“I’m not sure if I should be offended or not,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

Rick looks over as we turn off the driveway and onto the main road. “What?”

“That they thought I was that easy.”

“You’re not surprised that they thought you were a girl?”

“I’m pretty sure your Mom has thought that from the first day I met her.”

Rick frowns and then makes a face as he puts two and two together, “damn, that explains why she was so pissed when I got you dunked.”

Trying to get dry and not reveal myself to you was a little difficult,” I grin. “I was soaked and I couldn’t even get out of my wet clothes.”

“I kind of have a confession to make.”

“Oh?”

“Remember that one Saturday, when we went into the city to hang out?”

I’m starting to feel a little suspicious here, “Uhuh?”

“I was just beginning to accept that I had feelings for you,” Rick admitted. “I wasn’t sure how to rationalize it, and I was trying out the idea in my head. When we were having lunch, a little part of my mind, right in the back, was pretending we were on a date.”

I chuckle softly in the darkness, how ironic. “I was doing the same thing,” I admit. “I knew I could never have you, I had to remain your friend and nothing more. I let the tiniest part of me pretend we were on a boy-girl date and it was so sweet.”

“We should, if you want, that is?”

“I’d like that,” I smile, reaching out to touch his hand on the center console.

We chat idly for most of the way home. It turns out that Ricky Boy has had feelings for me for almost as long as I have; how ironic eh? The difference was, that he never really knew why or how to frame them.

It still feels like a miracle that this moment has come to pass at all. The very fact that I’m here, riding home in my boyfriend’s truck, still able to feel the touch of his lips on mine feels unbelievably good.

Truth be told, I never expected this day to come for me. I always hoped that it might; well, you do, don’t you? The devil on my shoulder told me that I would never find a boy who cared for the real me. I might not be able to live my life as me one hundred percent of the time yet, but my spirit is singing at this moment. Nothing can beat me now, no matter how much it hurts.

We pull up outside my place a little before eleven and Rick kills the engine, “Holly…”

I unfasten my belt and reach across and take his hands in mine, “Rick, I cannot begin to tell you how happy you’ve made me tonight. I… I never dreamed that this might happen.”

He smiles, god I love that smile of his. It’s got that little quirk on the left and the crinkle at the edge of his eyes as they sparkle. “You nearly drove me nuts,” he chuckles, “But I’d go crazy for you again in a heartbeat.”

“I’m real sorry about that,” I giggle and bite my lip.

“My god, you’re so damn beautiful,” he whispers, stroking my cheek. “Can I kiss you again?”

My breath catches in my throat and I can’t speak, Instead, I just nod wordlessly and wait as he closes the distance between us. I feel like I’m on fire the second his lips touch mine. My world melts away until the only two people on its entire surface are right here in this truck. His arms grasp me gently and my mind flashes back to that moment where he caught me when I tripped.
Hindsight is twenty-twenty. Now I know that our little mistaken embrace was so shocking because we both desired it so much. Now? Now I never want him to put me down.

We kiss for what feels like an eternity, probably all of a minute or two before I pull myself away reluctantly. “I’ve got to go inside; my folks are expecting me home.”

Rick nods and grins, god, he looks so good when he smiles at me. He hops down and makes his way around the truck to my door before opening it for me and offering me his hand. “I’m going to miss you.”

“You’ll see me Monday,” I point out, not wanting to release his hand.

“Monday is so far away,” he points out with a dopey grin.

“So call me?”

“I’ll do that, Holly Winters. Good night.”

“Good night, Rick Taylor.”

He leans down and kisses me softly. I swear to god, I have to fight the urge to pop a freaking foot. I just stand there like an idiot as he walks back to his truck and drives away down the road.

With a sigh, I turn around and let myself into the house. It’s pretty dark, but there’s a light in the kitchen; I guess someone’s still awake. I guess I’m not that late after all.

I kick my shoes off and toss my jacket on the side before heading through to the kitchen. My spirit is light and I’m pretty sure I’m not sleeping anytime soon. A nice herbal tea and I’ll wander off upstairs to change into something silky and girly to go with my good mood.

“Hey, sweetie.”

The voice startles me as I enter the kitchen. Mom's at the island, still wearing her scrubs as she reads through some documents.

“Hey Mom, did you just get in?”

She nods, “Ten minutes ago. How was your even…Oh my, Holly, come here.”

“Huh?” I reply intelligently. I comply with parental unit A’s orders however and move around to sit beside her. “What’s up?”

Mom reaches out and strokes my cheek. “Did you tell him? Of course, you told him,” she smiles. “My little girl is a woman now; God, I missed so very much of your life.”

Oh, now I follow. Damn, she’s good. One look and she has me sussed.

I pour out the entire evening to my mother there at the kitchen island. I told her every detail because I wanted to share it with her. Any consideration that I might be embarrassed about sharing my romantic evening with a boy was long gone; Alex was dead. Sure, I left out a few of the more saucy details of our sofa time adventures, but that wasn’t shame, that’s not wanting to get grounded in round one. Do you think my mom is beyond grounding me just because I can’t get pregnant?

Mom smiles and we share a soppy cuddle, I can smell the scent of her shampoo as she holds me close. “I could tell you know; a mother always can. When you came in just now, there was a look about you, Holly. You looked like you were finally at peace with the world. Your lips were quite swollen too,” she giggle

My hand flies to my lips in surprise and I giggle back. It’s a really freaking amazing little moment we’re sharing.

“He drove me home and walked me to the door. God Mom, when he calls me by my real name it just melts me.”

Mom smiles, “Young love is so beautiful at the best of times. For you though; gosh, I cannot imagine darling.”

“I never hoped…” I admit. “Not once did I truly believe it might be remotely possible.”

“You’re living a lot of firsts baby, and you’ll live a lot more before you’re done.”

“I love you, Mom.”

I grab my tea and go to head towards the stairs. “You’re ok with this, right Mom?”

Mom nods. “I am Holly. You’re my daughter, never doubt that. You seeing a young man doesn’t bother me in the slightest as long as you’re responsible. Promise me one thing though?”

“Anything, Mom.”

Mother dearest smiles slyly. “I know you can’t get pregnant darling, but that doesn’t mean you need to start testing the theory straight away, ok?”

“MOM!”

 

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

 

 

Waking up on Sunday morning felt like starting a whole new life. My heart was singing and I felt a little like that chick that lives with the seven little dudes singing about how great her gig is. In hindsight, that movie is kinda creepy, but I absolutely felt like a fairytale princess when I swanned into the kitchen in my robe to get breakfast.

“What’s up with you?” Rob asks, eying me with undisguised brotherly suspicion.

“Nothing,” I beam as I almost float over to the coffee maker. “I just slept so well last night.”

“I think I preferred it when you were depressed,” Rob snickers. “Nah seriously, what’s up?”

“I had a good night and I slept well. Add to that, I’m another day closer to never having to be Alex ever again.”

I sit down at the island beside him and take a long greedy drag of my coffee. I feel a little uncomfortable about the idea of talking to Rob about last night. Sure, he’ll find out at some point, but I really don’t want to have a ‘I kissed a boy’ conversation with my brother.

“You’re counting down huh?” Rob raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, I expect you are. I guess I already kinda said goodbye to him.”

“Soon, I can too,” I groan, jamming a toaster pastry into my mouth in a most unladylike way.

“So, what’s the deal with Rick then?”

God damn it, he’s not dumb, is he? I suppose I do need to actually tell him at some point if I want to actually see the damn boy.

“Rob, can you promise not to get weird about something?”

The oaf narrows his eyes and nods slowly, “Yes, but that depends entirely on what it is.”

“I’m going to share this because I want you, no, I need you to understand, ok Rob?” I pause and wait for my brother to nod before continuing. This feels harder than coming out to him in some ways, but I suspect there’s a good element of fear that he will think I’m gay for liking a boy. Hell, at the time I’m pretty sure a little tiny slice of my own mind still thought liking boys was weird.

“Last night, Rick told me that he had feelings for me,”I begin, watching his expression closely. “He told me that he was struggling with his sexuality and he broke down and admitted that he liked me. Given that I’m not a boy and, that I like him too, I confessed my true identity to him.”

“Shit,” Rob exclaims, his eyebrows reaching his forehead. “How did he react?”

“Pretty well I guess,” I admit awkwardly. “He accepts me Rob; he sees Holly.”

Rob’s expression is unreadable for a moment, his brow slightly furrowed as he thinks over the ramifications of what I’ve said. After a few moment, he nods and looks over at me, “Are you sure?”

I’m not sure if he’s asking if I’m sure I like boys, or if I’m sure he accepts me. Honestly, I’d rather not ask for clarification and make it weird. Regardless, I have but one answer.

“Yes.”

Rob nods and takes a breath before giving me a serious look. “If he hurts you Holly… I’ll kill him, you have my word.”

I put my hand on my brother’s arm. “Thank you, Rob, but I don't think that will be necessary.”

“So you… and him?”

I nod slowly, keeping an eye on him. “Are you ok with that?”

Rob hesitates for a moment before nodding more slowly. He looks a little uncertain, which, I should really expect, given the news. “I accept you as you, Holly; one hundred percent, ok? I won’t lie, it might take a minute for me to get used to my baby sister seeing boys… that she’s in class with.”

“To be fair, I don’t share any classes with him.”

Rob gives me a look, “You know what I mean, sis.”

“It’s a little strange for me too,” I concede. “I’ve never actually dated anyone before.”

“So you’re dating?”

“Maybe? But it’s too early to tell,” I shrug, “I’m open to the idea?”

Rob smirks and shakes his head. “You know, I got used to the idea of you being a chick pretty easily Hol, but somehow the idea of you dating boys seems more difficult. Not because you’re not a girl and it’s gay or something… rather, because I’m still getting to really know my little sister and I don’t want to share her with some other guy yet.”

Fuck you, Robert, that’s the sweetest thing anyone ever said to me.

 

 

It’s a little before lunchtime when my phone rings. The sound startles me out of the history textbook I’m reading. Look, just because I’m transing my gender doesn’t mean I get off homework to paint my nails, ya girl has career plans.

Flipping open my phone, I spot Rick’s name on the screen, and it makes my heart jolt nervously. Does he regret last night? Is he calling to tell me to keep this on the down low? All of a sudden, my morning of excitement and joy is shattered as I hit a mini panic attack “Uh, hello?”

“Hey, Holly, how are you doing?”

The panic washes away in a heartbeat as I hear him say my name. I can’t explain how good that feels, or why I’m such a freaking hypochondriac… probably extensive trauma, but I digress.

“Hi! Oh, me? I’m great. How are you?”

I can hear the smile in his voice as he chuckles at my over-exuberance, “I’m great too, really great. Are you doing much today?”

“Just studying,” I admit. “Chilling out I guess, you?”

“Want to go get lunch?”

I suddenly feel rather hungry, I wonder why that is.

“Yeah, I’d love that, when?”

“Does now work?”

Downstairs the doorbell rings.

“Fuck, Rick! Give me a few minutes!” I slam the call-end button and fly around my room like a womanly whirlwind.

Why are men like this? It’s adorable and spontaneous and romantic but it would be far more romantic if I was dressed and ready to be seen by the boy I like. Yeah… Ten points for effort, minus five for warning, buddy boy.

This would technically be my first ever time seeing the guy I just kissed as the real me. Sure, you can make a compelling argument that I look just as female in a hoodie and jeans, but it’s just not the same now is it? No, he saw through Alex to see Holly, but I really want my first time actually deliberately Holly to be perfect, too much to ask?

The whirlwind stuffs herself into a pair of grey patterned tights, a black pleated skirt, and a pretty long-sleeve top in a deep maroon. With the addition of my ankle boots and the assistance of a pushup bra, I think I look reasonably decent.

Holly is staring back at me in the mirror but her hair is still a little wild. Time to do something I’ve never ever considered before. I slip out of my room and shimmy along to the top of the landing like a ninja infiltrating a rival’s castle. I can hear male voices chatting away downstairs which leads me to believe that Rob has let the well-meaning gibbon into the house. Rats, this complicates matters rather significantly.

Having a bright idea, I pull my phone out and dial Mom’s cell. I really hope she’s in the house somewhere.

“What’s up, darling?”

“Are you in your study?” I whisper urgently.

“Yes, I was just reading some journals why?”

“I need your help upstairs, urgent emergency, please Mom!”

A few moments later, Mother Dearest arrives to find panic-stricken me desperately brushing my hair in the bathroom.

“Mom, I can’t make my hair behave, please help me!” I whine, thrusting the brush in her direction.

Mom smiles this long-suffering yet knowing smile as she takes the brush from my desperate paw.

“Let me guess; The doorbell I just heard and your general state of panic means that boy interest number one arrived for a spontaneous romantic gesture and you were being a goblin in your room?”

“Mom, not the time.” I wince slightly as she pulls at a knot in my hair. “Ow, “I was studying, I didn’t expect to see him or at least… give me some notice.”

Mom smiles at me in the mirror and rolls her eyes. “Men don’t realize how long it can take to get ready honey. They mean well, they really do, but sometimes good intentions clash with a bad hair day and they don’t really understand.”

Mom finishes attacking my maine and I’m pleased to see the girl looking back seems a lot more civilized with her hair neatly braided.

“Want a little makeup?”

I nod, smiling what I hope is pleasantly, but what I expect looked more far more desperate.

“Go get your bag and we’ll be quick.”

I rush off to grab my makeup kit and come racing back to my highly amused maternal unit. She’s finding all this hilarious and doesn’t seem to appreciate what an all-out panic I’m in. With an expert hand, Mom slaps some liner, mascara, and blush on me and finishes off with a light gloss. The girl looking back at me now looks a lot more ready for her debut; disaster averted… I think.

“Thanks Mom,” I beam, squeezing her half to death.

“I’m going back to my journals,” she sighs, still smiling so I know she’s not actually mad. “Have a nice time and I want you back in time for dinner, do you understand me, young lady?.”

“Yep, love you, Mom,” I yell, racing off to grab my handbag.

I skid to a stop at the bottom of the stairs barely avoiding breaking my neck. Hey, you try sprinting down the stairs in two-inch heeled ankle boots; it’s a risky enterprise, I can tell you. I can see Rob in the kitchen leaning against the island and he’s talking to someone just out of view. I pause for a moment to center myself and head in for one of those 'pivotal life moment' things.

Rick is stood there casually, hands in his pockets laughing with Rob about some football story when the heel of my boots clopping on the tile floor acquires his attention.

“It was freaking insane dude! Like, I was gonna…. Wow...”

“Uh, hi,” I offer shyly with a dumb little finger wave.

“I’ma leave you guys alone,” Rob chuckles, grinning like a hyena. “Catch you at school Monday, bro.”

“Yeah…” Rick replies, his eyes not leaving me the entire time. Holy fuck, the butterflies in my stomach right now are doing calisthenics on Adderall.

“Holly, wow… you’re beautiful.”

“You didn’t give me a lot of time, sorry,” I mutter, not able to meet his gaze properly.

Before I realize what is happening, I can feel his presence close to me. Gentle fingers lift my chin until I’m looking up into his huge beautiful eyes. God, they’re stunning this close. Beautiful brown orbs with flecks of green and blue right at the edges.

“Holly, you’re so utterly gorgeous... I.. I cannot believe I didn’t see this sooner,” he admits, shaking his head slowly.

“I uh… thank you.” I stumble over the words, not fully able to form sensible human words. “I wanted you to, I guess I mean that… well, I wanted you to see the real me today.”

“I saw her last night,” Rick smiles. “But you look incredible right now.”

Woah boy, this one has the tummy squiggles squigglin’.

“Can I take you out to lunch?”

I nod and smile goofily up at him. “Sure, I’d like that.”

Without any further awkward family moments, we make it outside and down to Rick’s truck. He holds the door for me, and it feels as good as it did the very first time. I give him a little smile of thanks as I straighten my skirt. Holy fuck, I just straightened my skirt after climbing into a boy’s truck; this is real.

I’ve got to tell you, this is a weird feeling. It’s not a bad one by any stretch of the imagination but it is certainly unusual. Imagine finding yourself in a world where your dream reality is actually happening but you’re reasonably sure it’s not a dream. You want so very much to believe it, to enjoy it, but a tiny part of you is expecting to wake up at any moment. That’s what this feels like and I still remember it to this day.

We pulled into a parking lot in town and Rick got the door for me. I had no idea what he had planned and I was more than a little curious by this point.

“Where are we going?”

“Surprise,” Rick shrugs nonchalantly.

“Am I dressed ok for wherever it is? It’s nothing crazy, is it?”

He smiles as we start walking, side by side, “you’re perfect exactly the way you are.”

I can’t help but ask the question. It’s been bugging me the whole drive over here. “You’re… really ok with all this? With me, right?”

Rick looks over and simply nods “It doesn’t feel real, does it?”

I shake my head and he grins, “You know, when I woke up this morning I could have sworn it had all been a dream. A wild amazing dream that would never repeat itself.”

“I know the feeling,” I admit. “I… My eyes fall on the building we’re heading towards. ‘Antonio’s Pizzeria.’ “Really?”

Rick grins and looks proud of himself. “Hey, we both kinda pretended the last time we were here that we were on a date, I figure why not make it real after all?”

I roll my eyes and laugh at him. “I hate that that’s an amazing idea.”

The booth we had occupied the previous time was sadly taken so we had to settle for a different one. It didn’t really matter though, it was the thought that counted really. Being here somehow felt deeply prophetic. The last time we had been here, I’d fully accepted that I had feelings for this boy. The fact that he had them too, made our little incident afterward all the more adorable.

I had tried to avoid him, tried to resist him, but it had been out of my control, hadn’t it? I had never been able to hide Holly from Rick, even when I tried. It was like I couldn’t pretend around him.

“Sir, Miss, what can I get you?” The waitress smiles politely as she arrives at our table.

“A couple of cokes and a large sausage and bacon on marinara,” Rick asks, smiling at me as he does it. The rat bastard remembered what we had the time before.

“Coming right up, you guys. It shouldn’t be long,” The waitress beams as she vanishes off with her pad in hand.

“You remembered,” I point out with a smirk.

“It was only like two weeks ago,” Rick shrugs. “I figured a do-over needed to be done properly or it doesn’t count.”

A smile comes to my lips as I remember the last time we were here. “Do you remember after the comic book store, we were walking back to your truck and I walked into a light pole?”

A smile spreads across Rick’s face. “Yeah, that was pretty funny.”

“You remember catching me when I stumbled afterward?”

The smile changes slightly as the memory plays across his mind. “I do,” he replies quietly. “There was a moment when I had you in my arms that I was tempted to tell you how I felt, maybe even to kiss you,” he admits shyly. “God, I had no idea Holly, but I wanted you right then more than any inhibitions I had.”

“I wanted you to,” I admit.

“Was that why you avoided me like the plague at school afterward?”

“Oh, you noticed that eh?” I grin sheepishly. “Sorry about that, I really didn’t know what else to do. I figured I had weirded you out and ruined a great day. I was trying to stay away from you for your own good, and for mine too.”

Rick reaches over the table and takes my hands in his, “not anymore.”

“Not anymore.” I agree, my heart fluttering.

Our drinks arrive, shortly followed by the pizza. It’s hardly a Michelin star restaurant but I couldn’t give less of a crap at the moment. On one hand, I’m sixteen; my standards aren’t that high. On the other, I’m over the moon to be here as a girl, with a boy I like. A boy I really like, more than I thought reasonably possible. Rick is charming and funny, attractive and kind all in one adorable package. The funniest part is that he’s not acting any different to how he was when we were just friends. I really was blind, wasn’t I?

Being here as myself, as Holly, feels like the most natural thing in the world. When I started taking hormones to save myself from the doom that would befall me, I felt a powerful clarity and vitality that I can’t possibly underemphasise. This saved my life, in the very same way that blood thinners can save a hypertensive patient. It brought color and life back to a dead and grey world.

I’m experiencing that very same feeling now as this boy sees the real me, and it feels as though something has changed inside me; something fundamental. I somehow know that I won’t ever really be able to be Alex ever again. He hasn’t really been there since the great coming-out adventure, but now? Now, he’s gone. I can try to play him, but it’s going to be so much harder; my mind just cannot go there anymore.

We’re finishing up and sipping our drinks when I raise the difficult topic I had been avoiding so far; school.

So, about tomorrow,” I begin, giving him a careful look. I know I told him this last night but I need him to understand the reality, as weird as it might end up feeling for us. “I can’t be myself at school yet, not until the end of the term.”

“How the hell are you going to survive the next six weeks?” he frowns.

“Not sure,” I admit with a dark chuckle, “but it’s going to make whatever we have here a little difficult, I think.”

Rick frowns, “How do you mean? I don’t give a damn what others think about me Holly, if that’s what you mean.”

“It’s not about you… I don’t want to cause a scene or draw attention to myself,” I implore. “I’m not ashamed or bothered, but let’s be real here. You’re the big-built football guy; you’re popular. Me? I’m the short skinny runt. Who are they going to beat the crap out of? Don’t forget they already do.”

Rick’s expression darkens, “I won’t let them.”

I hold up a finger. “The bigger issue is that it draws attention to me. Right now I’m getting by because people don’t really pay that much attention; they don’t see the girl among them. If we draw their attention it’s going to look pretty obviously like a boy and a girl.”

“I don’t know if I can just pretend to be your friend at school,” he admits, squeezing my hand. “I really do have strong feelings for you Holly. Now that I know the truth, I don’t think I’ll ever see a boy again.”

“That makes me happier than you know,” I sigh. “But we have to try. Plus, it’s only five weeks really. I have my German trip too.”

“So what? Tough it out and play pretend till the holidays, then what?”

“Then I come back to school as a member of the Girls Division. I’m pretty sure my secret will be out then. If you’re still not bothered by what people say, we can be open about our relationship then.”

Rick looks down at our hands and then returns his gaze to my eyes. “I did a lot of thinking over the last few weeks. I came to the conclusion that I really liked you, the person. I came to peace with the idea that I might be gay; It doesn’t bother me anymore. Am I? No, I fell for a girl without even knowing it. I don’t care what people say; you’re my girl. If you want to be, that is.”

Flippy floppy heart goes squishy. God damn this boy got some rizz as the kids these days say. Well, my kids do at least. Oh yeah, surprise; I have kids. More on that bombshell later.

“I want to be your girl,” I reply quietly. “Outside of school, Holly is all yours. At school, well, Holly has to play a character,” I admit sadly, “Alex the boy.”

“That’s going to be pretty funny,” he smirks. “Now that I think about it, you were never really that good at it anyway.”

“It’s not too hard,” I wave dismissively. “I just switched half my brain off and acted like most of the boys.”

“I’m worried for you,” Rick insists, more seriously. “What if someone finds out about you?”

“I’m not sure,” I admit. “They haven’t for nearly nine months, I can hopefully make it a few more weeks.”

“So, as soon as the semester ends, that’s it; Alex is gone?”

I nod and smile, feeling confident in one thing finally. The thought gives me a feeling of pure joy. “Never again to darken these skies.”

The waitress returns and Rick pays the bill. I don’t try to argue about paying my half this time. Call me old-fashioned, but it’s nice when the guy pays occasionally. I can say that now; this is absolutely a date.

Rather than head back to his truck, we take a walk along the river that runs through the city center. It’s not one of those dingy, ‘many hobos have died in these waters’ places, but rather one of those nice reclaimed public spaces that attract people on a sunny Sunday afternoon.

Walking alongside Rick wasn’t new for me, of course. Holding his hand while we did so, however, was pretty darn new. The world looked at us, and all they saw was a boy and a girl; it felt so extremely right that it made my heart sing.

We walk in silence for several minutes, simply enjoying each other’s presence. It’s fairly busy along the footpath; couples, kids, and families are all taking advantage of the relatively pleasant fall weather.

“I can’t believe just how much more alive you seem now,” Rick opines, glancing over at me.

“How do you mean?”

“You,” he gestures at me. “I kept seeing little pieces of this person peeking through from time to time. When we played games or I made you laugh, I would see… this happy full person poke through. I didn’t realize at the time, but it was your mask slipping. Now that it’s off, the girl inside is shining so brightly.”

“No matter how hard I tried to resist, there were moments where I let my guard down around you,”I admit. “No matter how hard I tried to convince myself that I didn’t like you, I just… you flipped some switch in me.”

“There was one particular moment that started to unravel how I saw you,” Rick admits, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his side. God I could get used to this.

“We were in the arcade that one time. Do you remember when your brother brought you along one Saturday afternoon? I was showing you how to play that one basketball game; the one you sucked at so badly? I don’t know why, but when I was behind you showing you how to aim, you smelled… really pretty. I had to fight this urge to hug you to me and it frightened me.”

“Me too,” I giggle softly, remembering the way it had felt to have his arms around me, very similar to now. I closed my eyes as we walked as I remembered the sensation of his body heat radiating through to me, the gentle warmth of his breath.

I feel us stop walking and I open my eyes, the dream temporarily broken. Rick has turned to embrace me, right here on the footpath, just out of the flow of human traffic.

“I want to kiss you, Holly, please, can I?”

I can’t reply with words so I simply nod. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks as I lean back and raise my chin towards him as he leans down, our eyes never once breaking contact. His lips brush mine with such tenderness that I want to cry out. Here am I in his arms, kissing this boy and the world feels perfect. There is nothing wrong with me; I am normal, I am…happy?

I’m happy.

 

 

Sitting in class on Monday morning, I felt completely out of place. Nothing was outwardly different about the situation; I’m still in the same classes with the same people. To them, I look like the exact same person, but the reality is that Alex is dead. He is now at best a mask and a tenuous one that.

Sure enough, I’d made the example of Holly wearing the Alex mask before. I’d even practiced it; being Holly Winters yet wearing a mask of Alex was in practice what I did every day since my grand coming out. The major difference was that Holly was different now; Holly wasn’t the girl she was last week. Today, with an assured place in the Girls’ Division waiting for me, and having kissed a boy that saw the real me, that poor kid was dead. In her place, was a young woman that was beginning to take flight, and it made me very uncomfortable to be sitting here surrounded by boys.

I’d always felt like an intruder; an outside observer in the boy world, but today, I truly felt like a lamb amongst the wolves. I was jumpy and tense, as though at any moment someone would turn and shout, ‘Girl!’ My ability to successfully play Alex had been failing as the semester progressed, but now, it took conscious effort to stoop and hunch and push my voice down into his monotone.

I think the truth is, that as Holly became a more whole person and gained life experiences, my ability to pretend to be Alex slipped further and further away. I knew who he was, it was still my life, but with every new experience the real me earned, my ability to act like the depressed unhappy child I had been was stripped away.

I wish it was easier to express this sentiment in text because feeling your very existence shift is a most unusual experience. I can only be glad that it was shifting in a net positive direction. One day, there would be no more hiding, and the clock was ticking on that; six weeks, starting today.

“Alex, conjugate Haben into the past plural please?”

Brain search engaged… trawling memories… two weeks ago, Haben… “Sie hattet, Frau Whistler?”

My educator nodded her approval and moved on to the next student to receive a callout. Did she know already? I knew some of my teachers had raised concerns about me and that specifically Frau Whistler and her counterpart in the Girls’ Division would be informed of my secret before our trip, but I couldn’t tell if she knew now. I didn’t think she was treating me any differently today than usual, but I’ve never been a fantastic judge of people.

Ever since the school had become involved I was eying each of my tutors with unreserved suspicion, trying to detect if any of them were behaving differently towards me. The final bell went, and we were packing up to go our separate ways when Frau Whistler called my name.

“Winters, can you stay behind please?”

Threat detected; no gendered title applied. Conclusion? Awareness likely.

On orders, I loitered by my desk while the classroom emptied. My teacher occupied herself with some paperwork until we were alone before closing and locking the classroom door. Threat confirmed.

Returning to her desk, she leaned against the forward edge and smiled kindly. Conclusion; threat minimal?

“I spoke with Principal Gardener this morning.”

I finish stuffing my books into my bag. “I can take three guesses as to what that was about.”

Frau Whistler smiles slightly and nods. “Yes indeed, Miss Winters. He explained that you’ll be transferring out of my class at the end of the semester.”

Ah, full cards on the table, it seems. She doesn’t appear mad, or disgusted, so perhaps there’s good to come here? Apply conciliatory language.

“It’s a shame to leave your class, Frau Whistler, I really did enjoy my time here.”

“You didn’t,” she smiles, “but that’s ok. At least I know it wasn’t my teaching, eh? What I learned goes a long way to explain a few other things I had noticed this year.”

“I’ve been told I’m a terrible poker player,” I admit, with a small smile. “For what it’s worth, I really do enjoy your teaching.”

My teacher nods. “I appreciate that, thank you. Can I ask though, between us like this, would you rather I call you Alex or Holly?”

“In private, Holly is fine Ma’am; it is my name.”

Frau Whistler gives me a strange look. “Now that I’m aware, I’m rather shocked that I didn’t know sooner.”

Why not go for gold and do some recce of my own? “Frau Whistler, you said you’d noticed some things this year. What were they?”

She chuckles to herself and nods. “Unlike the other boys who all seemed to grow, you appeared to get more feminine as time went on. Also, your voice never broke, it was quite noticeable in a class where oral participation was important.” Whistler looks like she’s finished and then she smiles to herself. “Do you remember the day when you came in here to hide away from Herr Taylor?”

“Yes?”

“In a crowd of boys, you’re but one note in the symphony to a teacher. Sure, we try to give individual attention as much as we can, but together, the edge softened. When you were there with me talking, just the two of us, you seemed so different to the others. I couldnt put my finger on the why, just that it wasn’t like any other student.” She smiles. “Now, I know that was because it was a young woman, not a young man that I was talking to. Do you remember when I told you about seeing you at the football game?”

I make a face, remembering that particular game. “I figured you might have seen me at my less-than-boyish best.” I concede.

Frau whistler chuckles as she makes her way to the classroom door. “I will admit, at first, I saw three girls enjoying the game. Even when I later recognized one of them as you, cosmically, it still seemed to somehow fit.”

“They’re my best friends,” I admit with a fond smile. “I find it hard not to be myself around them.”

Frau Whistler smiles. “Hold on to that, Holly Winters, and cherish it forever.”

I left Frau Whistler’s classroom with a feeling of peace in my heart. One of my teachers, arguably my favorite, seemed accepting and supportive. It was a weight off my shoulders even if my disguise had been less than paper thin to her eyes.

Hey, some people are just observant, I won’t win them all. Frau Whistler may have simply been at the right place and the right time to observe me in a way that lowered my defenses. I also liked her cosmic inference. The universe seemed to be aligning in my favor for the first time in my life and I wasn’t about to squander it.

Rather than face the press of the common room and so very many people, I made my way outside into the crisp fall air. Before school, I’d hidden away in the library and now, I wandered along the edge of the grass, enjoying the peace and quiet. Well, relative peace and quiet, I could hear Freshmen trying to kill each other somewhere in the distance but it was unimportant unless any weapons became involved.

Spending my time around people today felt mentally exhausting. Wearing the mask felt false and uncomfortable, but I knew I had to make it through the day. I hoped it might get easier as time went on, that each subsequent day might feel a little bit easier. I wasn’t holding my breath though, I knew it was a bare-knuckle grudge match to the end; now that the genie was out of the bottle, she wouldn’t fit back in.

I found a bench out by the lacrosse field and sat down to enjoy the morning sunshine. Here, nobody would judge how I was sat, or how I looked. Here, I was just another kid sitting on a bench doing nothing of interest. Melancholic? Sure, It’s my specialty didn’t you know?

The world is quiet and peaceful, save for the sounds of adolescent violence away in the distance. I smile because I’m starting to understand that carefree joy that others seem to find so easily. It’s taken me a long road, but I’m finally beginning to know peace. Sure, I have a long way to go yet, but it’s finally in sight. Like a ship finally spotting land after days at sea in violent storms.

“Is this bench taken?”

I look behind me when I hear the voice and spot the one guy who I wasn’t looking forward to meeting today. The one guy I was hoping to put off seeing until lunchtime, if I couldn’t find an excuse to skip it. He’s stood there looking as sexy as ever, his hands in his pants pockets, his tie is at its usual jaunty angle and he’s smiling down at me.

“Hey.”

“Can I join you?”

I nod, and he takes a seat on the far end of the bench, his hands still in his pockets. I can’t tell you how much I want to slide over and let him kiss me, to have him hold me in his arms but I resist those urges. We share a look that pretty much confirms he feels exactly the same way.

“Andy told me you headed out this way after class.”

“Are you keeping track of me now?” I raise an eyebrow.

He smiles, “Maybe, but only because I was scared to see you today.”

I frown, “why?”

“I was scared that I’d do something dumb, like try to kiss you right there in the common room in front of everyone,” he chuckles. “That I’d blow your cover and make an ass out of everything.”

“It’s pretty fragile,” I admit with a smirk. “I came out here to get away from everyone; so I didn’t have to pretend. Pretending is kinda hard; now even more so.”

Rick smiles and nods. “I know what you mean. It still blows my mind that they think you’re a boy.”

“Does it feel weird, seeing me like this, now?”

Rick shakes his head, and he stares into my eyes with a look of utter conviction. “Holly, all I see when I look at you is a girl playing dress up; I don’t think I’ll ever see Alex ever again. You opened my eyes this weekend and I couldn’t be happier. No; it doesn’t feel weird, but it is difficult.”

He holds his hand up to stop me from interrupting and continues. “It’s difficult because I want to be near you and if I’m near you, I won’t be able to keep it a secret. For you, I’ll keep my distance, and for you, I’ll protect your secret. Just know that it’s stupid hard.”

I reach out my hand, sliding it across the bench into the open space between us. After a second, he takes hold of it and squeezes. For the remainder of the break, we sit, side by side, holding hands as we stare out across the fields.

 

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

 

 

“Alexander Winters?” The nurse calls from the doorway at the end of the hall.

Grumble

Hearing that name called out in full always grinds my gears in ways that are hard to explain… Oh wait, no it’s not.

Even if I won’t have to tolerate it for much longer, it still freaking sucks. It’s first thing on Tuesday morning, and Mom and I are at the surgery to see ol’ Doctor Harris for my latest oil change. Seeing as I will be off to school directly afterward, I’m in full boy-drag, sadly.

You remember I had to go see the good doctor a few weeks before D-Day, right? Yes, Derp Day, Day of Donkening, Dork Did A Dumbass Day; pick your poison. Due to said visit, Harris already knows all about me, so I’m surprisingly comfortable to go see him now that all our cards are on the table. Well, as much as I can be about this issue, that is.

When we arrive at his office, Harris is waiting for us and greets Mom with a friendly hug. “Hello Veronica, it’s good to see you.” He looks over at me and smiles, “Miss Winters, I hear you’ve had an eventful few weeks?”

I shrug sheepishly and make a face.

“Tony, glad to see you again,” Mom smiles.

“I see a request here from a Doctor Ward for a full workup and report,” Harris points out, sitting down at his computer. “I’ll forward her my exam from a few weeks ago and the panel of bloods I took at the same time. Everything should be relatively current, given the circumstances.”

“That would be fantastic, thank you.” Mom agrees. “What were her levels?”

What? Do you think just because Mom and Doctor Harris are old buds, that he would share my medical records with her? Ones he promised to keep private due to my age? He’s actually a good bean.

Harris glances at me and upon receiving my nod, pulls up the file. “Estrogen levels are within range for a girl in puberty and her testosterone levels are suppressed to within normal margins, although, they are a tiny bit on the lower end of the scale. Serum lipids are good, as is liver function; no issues as far as I can tell with her wider health. She’s a model patient on hormone therapy, if she was actually ON, hormone therapy,” he chuckles.

“Indeed,” Mom agrees, shooting me a slightly miffed look. “At least she’s not done any damage.”

“She was careful,” I offer hopefully, giving both adults my best innocent look. “I really did do my research.”

Harris nods in agreement. “In her defense Veronica, she did indeed: Her dosages are what are typically prescribed for the desired levels. The materials were… while, illicitly imported into this country, entirely legal in Canada.”

“Can we rectify that, now she’s out in the open?” Mom asks. “Or do you need to send her off to an Endocrinologist first?”

Harris shrugs and gives that open-handed gesture people use when they’re not entirely sure. “I can write a bridging prescription for her, but I would rather she see as an Endo for a formal prescription before too much longer. Transgender care is not my field of specialty and there are far more qualified people to help her,” he explains. “I’d rather not disrupt the treatment in the meantime; so yes, I can.”

Woo, I get to stay on the titty Skittles, result!

“I am glad that you spoke to your mother,” Harris adds, giving me a kindly look. “She really does have your best interest at heart, Holly.”

I look over at Mom and smile, “I see that now; I was a fool.”

“You were scared and alone,” Doctor Harris corrects me gently. “It’s entirely understandable, really.”

Harris turns to his computer and types for a moment before handing Mom a prescription and an appointment card. “Mercy’s Endocrinology department, Doctor Maya Anderson, two weeks on Friday, half past four?”

“Perfect,” Mom smiles. “Thank you, Tony.”

With that brief appointment, I joined the ranks of those on real, honest-to-good anti-boy-otics. It was a really affirming feeling to see that first proper prescription, even if it was in Alex’s name. Sure, it was a bridge to keep me tied over until I could see an actual Endocrinologist (Specialist Hormone Doctor), but it was a sign that this was real, official, and proceeding towards my end goal; being me for the rest of my life.

It also helped to confirm for me that Mom and Dad were fully onboard the Holly Express. There was absolutely no hesitation or fanfare when she got it filled at the local pharmacy on the way to school. The look she gave me when she handed over the bag in the car, however, spoke volumes.

“Thank you, Mom,” I offered quietly, clutching the paper bag tightly in my hands. “I know what this means to you.”

“We love you, Holly; never forget that fact,” Mom squeezed my hand. “I’m just glad that we’re able to help you properly now. I’m glad this is all out in the open.”

“I’m still sorry I couldn’t be your son, Mom.”

Mom looks at me and there’s a tear in her eye. “Holly, even sitting there right now in your suit trying to be him, I can’t see my baby boy anymore. Alex is gone and that’s ok; he never really existed. I’m going to mourn who my child was, and heal by loving who she really is.”

Blub. I love you, Mom.

 

 

The bus rumbled onward as the rain beat down on the windows, blurring the view outside. Super cinematic right? Welcome to late fall in my area; it’s very soggy.

“And we kissed by the river, it was… I’ve never felt so alive in my entire life,” I admit, shedding an actual happy tear. Both Megan and Kara beam with happiness.

“You deserve a little bit of luck babe,” Meg offers, giving me a squeeze. “I saw how much you cared about him; to find out he sees the real you too is just… too beautiful.”

“I have no idea how I’m going to keep this shit up for five more weeks.” I groan as I flop back against the glass. We’re on our way home from the Gym on Wednesday afternoon and it’s been the first chance I’ve had to debrief after the weekend of insanity that has rocked my world.

No Gary to interrupt our conversation you ask? The goblin is off exchanging farts with some of his buddies as far as I know. Either way, it’s just the three of us riding home on the city’s delightful public transit system.

Kara shrugs, “you’ve managed so far, it can’t be that different, right?”

“Back then, I was Alex all the time,” I point out. “Now, he barely exists, even at school.”

“How has Rick been since the weekend?” Meg queries, cursing under her breath as the bus's jolt throws off her nail-painting accuracy.

I make a face. “I kinda tried to avoid him but, well, he ended up finding me anyway. I think I feel a lot weirder about it than he does.”

“Damn straight,” she chuckles. “He’s the only guy with a hot girlfriend right there in school with him; I bet he’s cool with it.”

I really managed to get myself into a real mess, didn’t I? Here I am, actively trying to pretend to be the sex I was born. The wrong one, I might add, but pretend I must. Now introduce Rick into that mix and I’d fail pretty quickly. I have no problem with people thinking I’m gay, the truth is that I’m not. No, my problem with people seeing Rick and I being romantic together is me. There’s just no way I can pretend to be Alex when I’m with him that way.

It sounds wild, doesn’t it? The truth falls back to my house of cards analogy. My perception of the world as a boy is pretty tentative at best. Take a few cards off the top, and the house remains standing; my hair, my size, and my shape are all things that can be overlooked. I know with reasonable certainty that I struggle to behave remotely boyish around him. I was failing at that long before he found out the truth, and I don’t see that changing. Something about how he treats me makes it impossible for me to pretend. No, if people saw us together, they would see right through me.

I cannot let that happen, for both of our sakes. What happens after it all comes out? That’s a storm that I’m willing to weather. Will people call us gay? Probably. I’m not naive enough to believe this will be a happy-ever-after beautiful trans-fiction world where everyone can totally tell I’m destined to be a girl and that clearly, Rick is a straight guy dating a young woman. No, they’ll call him a fag and me a freak. That might be the real test.

Sigh. Why can’t life be simple?

 

 

Thursday morning began very much like every other day in my new reality, although I certainly felt a little more comfortable having taken that first icy plunge. Playing Alex should be easy; I’ve played him for most of my life. Somehow now it feels so awkward and isolating.

Morning classes are utterly underwhelming; we’re into the meat of the semester here and are working hard to get stuff done. Honestly, academia is a fantastic distraction from all of the girl/boy world bullcrap that keeps bothering me. Getting my head stuck in my work helps keep my focus away from the situation that I’m in. It used to protect Alex from having to face reality, now, it stops Holly from having to focus too much on pretending to be him.

By now, our courses are in full swing and our teachers have zero mercy. I told you private schools could be ruthless and this one is no different. I’m mostly caught up on my homework from my unfortunate absence but that doesn’t mean the workload eases up. Thankfully I have a free period this afternoon that should sort a lot of this mess out.

As w pour out of Physics, I run into a solid wall of dumbass.

“Watch where you’re going faggot,” snarls one of the bigger guys in my year, giving me a dirty look as though I am composed entirely of cow dung.

I hold my tongue and turn away; there’s no point getting involved in anything with these guys. Suck it up and ignore it, Holly, it doesn’t matter...

“Where you going fag-boy?” the lump growls, grabbing me by the shoulder and spins me around as I go to pass him by. “Who said I was done with you?”

“I did, see you later Kevin,” I point out firmly, stepping to the side.

Kevin frowns and tries to compute the fact that someone has ignored his defacto authority. It takes a few seconds before I feel him yank me backward by my hair.

“Yeeoowwch.” I yelp, falling backward to relieve the pressure on my head. “Get off me you fucking asshole.”

“You scream like a girl,” he chuckles darkly. “Bet you take it up the ass you faggot.”

“How about you go fuck yourself,” I spit, massaging my sore head. “I’m pretty sure nobody else is ever going to take up the challenge.”

Kevin Peterson stands there and blinks for a moment, staring at me.

“What?” I snap, “Leave me the hell alone asshole, fuck off.”

Inexplicably, the guy turns and walks away without another word. The few students that had hung around expecting a fight wander off, disappointed that bloodsport is no longer on the cards. I’m just collecting my things when Andy hands me my remaining textbook.

“You might want to put your hair back in its elastic, Rapunzel,” he chuckles, nodding at the black hair tie now lying on the floor.

“Huh?” I shake my head, slightly and hair falls into my eyes, suddenly it all seems to click into place. “Oh, uh, right,” I mumble, stooping to grab the tie and quickly returning my hair to its low pony.

Andy gives me a weird look but doesn’t say anything. “Are you ok?” he asks, sounding genuinely concerned for my wellness.

“My hair’s still attached to my head, otherwise, no feelings hurt,” I shrug. “I have no idea why he stopped and left me alone.”

“You stood up to him,” Andy points out as we start walking to English Literature. “People don’t stand up to Kevin Peterson; he thrives off being the one in control.”

“I really didn’t feel like dealing with his crap today,” I sigh.

I’m not entirely sure why I just stood up to one of the school’s most prolific bullies. Honestly? I think a part of me was done with being dragged down by some tiny dick asshole that insists on making others feel bad.

Looking back, Alex never actually stood up to anyone in his life. The difference here is, that it wasn’t Alex at that moment. I know it sounds highly schizophrenic, but it was Holly that didn’t take Kevin’s shit. That moment of pain, when he pulled my hair, caused me to drop the Alex Mask entirely.

I glance over at Andy cautiously, now that I realize why Kevin stopped and why my friend reacted strangely. No, it wasn’t just the loose hair that really didn’t belong on a boy and it wasn’t just the tone of my voice. It was the pissed-off girl that came out of left field and slapped them square in the face. Dominoes… I let one too many topple and I cannot afford to do that.

Andy seems a little quieter than normal as we walk to class and it makes me really consider my friend for a moment. While Gary and I were friends because we were both nerdy rejects who were pressed together by the school system, Andy and I were always different. We became friends because in many ways, we were both seen as broken. It was a shared understanding that behind the exterior that everyone else saw, we were worth knowing.

“Andy?”

Hopalong stops walking and looks over at me. He’s never once judged me and he’s always been there. I’ve been seriously ignoring him recently and I feel guilty. Stupid gender crap has gotten in the way of a friendship that I valued. I smile and squeeze his shoulder, it’s a lot more manly than the hug I was trying my hardest to resist. “I’m really glad that you’re my friend.”

Andy chuckles and shakes his head. “I know.”

“Did you just pull a Star Loner on me?”

Andy smirks, “Don’t get your buns in a twist princess.”

I swear to god, If kicking him wasn’t a war crime, he would be limping more than usual.

 

 

Two hours later, it’s finally lunchtime and I drop into my spot at the table with a deep sigh. My brain is entirely frazzled from a morning of extreme academic focus and I am worn out. I’m a little early today, so I’m only the second arrival after our table head, Carson.

“You look like you’re fit to drop,” the Quarterback observes, filling his glass from one of the water jugs on the table before offering it to me.

I give him a nod and a smile of thanks as I kneed my temples. “Algebra has fried my brain, I’m basically useless now.”

“I know the feeling,” he chuckles, “I get that way tryin’ to remember crap in history. My brain doesn’t do good with dates; always feel guilty about not being good with that stuff. My Dad, he loves Archeology and it makes me feel like a bit of a failure.”

Carson colors up and frowns. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m unloading on you, Alex.”

“I don’t mind,” I shrug. This is the honest truth; I don’t. I’d rather people be honest with their feelings sometimes. I know how rich that sounds coming from me, shut up.

“I could maybe tutor you if you wanted?” I offer, surprising myself as much as him. “I’m getting A’s in History at the moment, maybe it might help with technique?”

Several of our tablemates start to arrive as Carson is about to answer. He thinks for a moment then seems to reach a decision. He gives me a quick nod and a thin smile, “I’m free last period today?”

I do a quick mental calculation as the table fills up. “Works for me,” I grin. “See you then, huh?”

 

 

Ordinarily, with my final two periods free today, I would be off home faster than a politician fleeing a funding inquest. Any excuse to get out of Alex and get my homework done in comfort at home is favorable to spending it as a boy in school. No, instead, I’m here in the library finishing off my Geography homework and waiting for my new student. I really don’t plan ahead, do I?

Was it a bad idea, to offer to help? No, not really. I am a good person, despite what you may think of me. The big thing is that I’ve never actually had anyone to offer help to before. Heck, I’ve not exactly been in a helpful headspace. Most of my associates, the nerds, are pretty smart folks. They rarely have ever asked for or needed assistance. Is it a bit of a stereotype, the jock needing help in class? Look, we all have weak points, and Carson like any other student here is actually pretty smart. You don’t tend to last here if you’re stupid. Even the sports stars don’t coast at this school.

Why did I offer? I’m not entirely sure. Perhaps being in a more of a Holly state of mind, I’m more willing to put myself out there to help others. It’s a nice feeling really, even if it does mean staying in Boymode for a little longer than I’d like. Alex didn’t have enough energy to help himself, but Holly, she’s going to be different, I’m starting to see that.

The Library door thuds dully as someone enters and the quiet space is filled with the soft slap of shoe leather on the parquet floor. I finish the chapter I was reading and look up as Carson Orlinski arrives, a cheesy grin on his face.

“I’m ready to learn Professor.”

I roll my eyes and gesture at the chair across from me with my pen. “Sit my child, and we can begin.”

I’ve described the library before, right? Big and gothic with lots of dark wood and tall bookcases. Well, the study area consists of long wooden tables with rather nice padded chairs. There are reading lamps and an area of computers off to one side. Just off the main area. Is a smaller room with printers and copiers and other such noisy modern machinery that Mrs Inverbrook believes to be uncouth. Right now, we’re on one of those long wooden tables and Mr Sports Star is unpacking his pile of textbooks.

Those computers that I mentioned? It was there that I first started to research what I was around age twelve. I had no idea how to explain what it was that I felt as a young child, only that I should have been like my sister Chrissie. It was those very machines that helped me to understand it had a word. When something has a word, it can be written; when it can be written, it can be answered.

“What are you guys studying?” I ask as Carson gets himself settled.

“The Russian Revolution through to the Soviet Union,” Carson explains, opening a textbook. “Trotsky, Stalin, Five Year Plans and all that; it’s just a blur to me.”

“Why do you find it hard?”

Carson makes a face, “It’s so damn dry.”

“So tell me about the last movie you saw.”

Carson’s face lights up at that question. “Oh man, there was this movie with Tim Journey, he plays this American Retired Army Captain who’s all jaded and traumatized from the stuff he did during the Indian wars. Well, now he’s in Japan to sell guns and train them to use them and stuff right? Well, he ends up getting attacked by Ninjas and he helps them fight off a revolution.”

Clearly, Carson enjoyed this movie. I raise an eyebrow. “How quickly did you recall all of that?”

He shrugs and looks confused, “I liked it.”

“So why are you struggling with this then?”

“I don’t get it,” he frowns.

I point at his textbook. “What you’ve got in there, blows that movie away. You’ve got revolution, war, an apprentice betraying his master, assassination, and murder.”

“Really?” he perks up and flips through a few pages. “Like what?”

I smirk and spread my hands like an actor on a Broadway stage about to reveal the big plot secret. “How about when Leon Trotsky, disgraced former Bolshevik leader got an ice axe in the head because Stalin wanted his influence gone so that he could clean up his control of power? He assassinated anyone who posed a risk to him; Generals, Scientists, and Politicians. Anybody who questioned his authority or his decisions was sent to the Gulag or executed. All of this meant that when the Germans did invade after they betrayed their pact with Stalin, the Soviets were on the back foot because they had lost so many of their leaders.”

The boy looks immediately enthused and I know I have him hook line and sinker. “See what I mean? Once you find a way to angle the story to be more engaging, you find it hard to forget.”

“We’re doing this in Senior history class,” Carson points out. “How do you know it already?”

I smile, “One of my Dad’s work friends used to work for The Antonov aircraft company when they were still part of the Soviet Union like, twenty years ago.” I offer. “He works for Dad’s company now, but he loved to tell me all about the sordid history of Communism and I found it fascinating.”

I won’t bore you with the nitty-gritty as I got Carson started with the October Revolution, Lenin, collectivism, and through to the rise of Stalin. Honestly, it's hours of material but I gave him the exciting cliff notes edition. It was surprising how quickly he became totally enthused by the material.

Carson grinned happily. “Honestly, you totally changed this for me, you should totally be a teacher.”

“No,” I shook my head. “I’m going to be a doctor like my Mom.”

“If you heal people anything you can teach, then you’re going to rock it,” he enthuses. “Alex, I really appreciate this. I was honestly hitting a wall on this stuff.”

“I’m glad I could help,” I admit before pausing. “I have to say though, I’m as surprised that I offered as I am that you actually accepted it.”

Carson shrugs, “I’m not beyond asking for help when I need it or I’d suck as an athlete. I’m normally pretty good in the classroom, but like I said earlier, I get a little stuck sometimes when I can’t work out how to engage.”

“I know what you mean,” I offer as I tidy up my books. “I can get like that sometimes.”

Carson shakes his head and gives me an odd look. “I don’t know why, but I feel like I can just talk to you about this stuff. I don’t feel like I gotta put on the whole Super QB cape.”

I get the feeling I should be picking something up here, but you know me by now, my social radar is basically Soviet technology; it only works when it’s Thursday, and sunny.

“Probably because I’ve nobody to tell that might believe me,” I chuckle darkly. “One of the benefits of being a loner.”

“You’ve got Rick though, right?” Carson points out.

Gerk

“Uh, I mean… I guess, we are friends, I suppose,” I admit, glancing up. His expression is neutral, I don’t think he’s asserting anything in particular. My heart rate did backflip briefly, I’m getting far too sensitive for this shit.

“I can see why he likes you though,” Carson continues as he shoulders his bag. “You’re real easy to talk to and you’re pretty funny. You’re nothing like the other guys.”

No shit, Sherlock.

“I ah… I’m just me,” I shrug.

“Yeah,” Carson agrees as we head for the exit. “That’s just it; you don’t seem to care how others see you, you’re different.”

Oh crap, even my broken social radar is screaming hard like an incoming missile threat.

“I’m no different to anyone really; I just want to get good grades, go to Medical school, and stay out of trouble.” I bluster, hoping it distracts him.

Carson shrugs. “Either way, you’re cool Alex, alright? Thanks for listening to my crap and helping. You didn’t have to and I owe you one, ok?”

He holds the library door open and stands waiting. Confused, it takes me a second to realize that he’s holding the door for me; ostensibly, another boy. If I could facepalm without it making this awkward, I would.

I keep my mouth shut and do what he’s expecting. Honestly, now I know why some guys behave a certain way around me, it’s far easier to go with the groove and just prevent embarrassment or beatings. Hell, maybe it will be funny one day? I might even write a book.

“I ah, I’ll see you around, ok?” I offer with a dweebish wave and a grin. I make like a banana and split before this whole thing becomes even more awkward. How do I manage to do this? Do I spray pheromones at boys like some kind of lady skunk? (Please don’t overthink that statement)

If this was fiction it would be hilariously awkward and not a little bit adorable. We’d all have a good laugh at the protagonist’s cringeworthy attempts not to attract the unknowing guys to her ‘true feminine self’. In real life, it's quite worrisome and not a little confusing. I managed to navigate one boy catching feelings for me successfully, the odds of two going the same way aren’t very likely.

I don’t want to date Carson, let me make that abundantly clear for you, dear reader. Sure, he’s a nice guy and he’s certainly an attractive guy, but I’m not interested. Rick and I are still working out what we are, but I’m positive that he’s more than enough for me.

What my exit from the nerd cloister is teaching me is that boys who are less familiar with me are picking up what I’m not trying to put down a great deal easier. It could be that unfamiliarity, or it could be that, unlike my nerdy brethren, they have more social experience than a chaste kiss on the cheek from granny at Christmas. The real problem here is that it’s spreading and far too soon.

What am I getting myself into?

 

 

“Holly?”

Parental yelling apparently does not change, even when you transition.

I stick my head out of my bedroom door and glance around suspiciously; the hallway is empty. “What?” I yell back.

Mom crests the staircase and raises an eyebrow. “Yelling what isn’t very ladylike, darling.”

“I’m a work in progress,” I shrug, “wazup?”

“I was going out to grab some groceries that we’re low on. Do you want to come with me?”

My homework is done and this seems like a good opportunity to stretch my legs. “Sure Mom, give me a few minutes?”

Mother dearest fixes me with a knowing look. “I know this is all exciting and new, but we’re going to the superstore for groceries. You do not need a full face of makeup, Holly Juliette Winters.”

Sunday names, and not even a crime committed yet. Well, that’s me told.

I joined Mom in the car a little under ten minutes later. While I might not have put a ton of makeup on, my hair was being rather rebellious and needed serious taming before I was fit for public consumption. I might not have gone over the top with my cosmetics, but I did need to avoid looking like a Halloween fright doll.

For my outfit, I ended up going with a simple pair of jeans, sneakers, and a nice cozy sweater. As far as outfits go, it wasn’t hugely removed from what I might have worn as Alex. The more important difference was that I now stood up tall and didn’t hide my body. Comfort is strangely beautiful in its own way.

Going to the superstore isn’t exactly exciting rip-roaring transgender drama, I know. Honestly, this made it into the book because it was one of the most normal experiences that I’ve had since my coming out. Even something as mundane as grocery shopping can really plant formative memories in one's young life when it’s finally a comfortable experience.

“Here you go miss,” the lady at the deli counter hands me the package and I place it into our cart. It’s a stupid little thing, but It makes me happy to hear it now. Now, it’s correct and it’s not giving the game away or ruining my secret. Now I’m not remotely ashamed to be called Miss, now I’m proud.

Mom returns from whatever she was grabbing and takes over pushing the cart down one of the isles.

“What do you want to do for dinner tonight? I was considering doing a casserole.” she muses as we pass between isles of canned products.

I give her a look, “Casserole would be ok. You seem unusually domestic, what’s up?”

“Nothing,” she replies examining a can.

“Come on, we don’t do groceries midweek,” I accuse, smelling Rattus Rattus. “What’s this really about?”

Mom glances around and looks a little sheepish. “I know how much I work, and I’m not around for you as much as I was for Chrissie when she was younger. I was trying to make some time to do normal things with you as mother and daughter.”

God, this moment still makes me cry to this day. It was one of the most human moments I ever witnessed from my Mom. She was doing her best to be there for me when I needed her the most. Even though she wasn’t really sure what she was doing, she was trying her best. Yeah, grocery shopping isn’t going to change the planet, but right then, picking up milk and cold cuts felt like the most valuable time in the world.

The cart abandoned, I pulled her into a hug right there in the canned vegetable aisle. “Thanks, Mom,” I murmur into her shoulder. “I love you.”

Mom squeezes me back, “I love you too, baby. I’m sorry that I’m not very good at this.”

“I don’t need you to be good at this,” I admit with a sniff. “I just need you to be my Mom. We’ll work this out as we go.”

Mom leans back and strokes my hair. “I can do that baby, I’m just afraid that I’ll let you down in the process. I should have said something sooner; when I realized what was going on. I love you more than any of this rubbish and I shouldn’t have let you suffer.”

I laugh, which catches both of us by surprise. “Mom, I would have denied it if you had. I don’t think I was quite ready to face this until very recently. I’m not sure if it was Kara and Megan, or even realizing that I wasn’t going to make it to college as I’d planned. The truth is, I was lying to myself as much as I was to everyone else. I knew what I was, but I was afraid of everything. Afraid of taking the risk and trying, afraid that I would never get the chance.”

“Are you still afraid?” She asks uncertainly.

“I am, but I know that I have you and the rest of the family. Heck, I have Kara and Megan, and I have…” I blush as I realize was about to say that I had Rick too. It takes me a second to remember that’s ok and that I don’t need to be embarrassed about liking a boy anymore, “...and, I have Rick,” I add, with more certainty than I feel. “I’ve got everyone I need, Mom.”

Mom smiles and looks a little more certain of herself. “I worry honey, this is so far outside my specialty that I feel a little lost. Unlike at work, I don’t get to wash my hands and tell myself I did my best if it all goes wrong. You’re my child and I’m afraid I’ll make a mistake.”

“As far as I’m concerned Mom, you’re doing just great. I was convinced that everyone would hate me. As far as I’m concerned, anything beyond acceptance is a bonus.”

We continue pushing the cart along the aisle as we talk. “That’s a very shrewd way to look at it Holly,” Mom points out. “You shouldn’t have to look at life that way at your age.”

“I had to grow up pretty quickly,” I point out.

“I’m sorry.”

I shrug, “You don’t need to be; the past is the past. Honestly? I’m just overjoyed that I’ll even get a chance to be me finally. Any outcome from this point onward is a good one. I can live with whatever comes next and I’ll do whatever I can to be the best daughter I can. Once I work out what that is, I guess.”

“When you unearth that secret, let me know,” Mom chuckles. “I was a daughter once myself and I have no idea what that is.”

We turn down another aisle and Mom starts referencing her list. I catch sight of myself in one of the glass-fronted cabinets and cannot help but stare. The girl looking back at me seems a little surprised, but she looks comfortable and carefree. From the bushy ponytail to the relaxed posture, she looks…I look, content?

Contentment is a new and unusual feeling for me. It’s not an emotion I’ve ever really felt before in my young life. Try to imagine spending the day with a small pebble in your shoe; no matter how much you shuffle it, you know it’s there and it either irritates you or it outright hurts. It’s always there until you finally take off the shoe and shake it out. Even then, your mind is still aware of the pebble’s effects for some time.

I’ve got a long way to go, but I’m throwing that damn pebble out and life is starting to feel pretty good without it.

 

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

 

 

“Hey, pass the water?” Rick asks, causing me to look up from the incredibly interesting pasta bake on my plate.

I’ve managed to find some sort of middle ground here at school where I can interact with him like a human bean rather than a lovesick puppy dog and it’s working out reasonably well so far. We’ve managed to maintain our fledgling relationship so far, and nobody seems the wiser. I have to admit, it still feels weird as it feels for me to see him like this.

“Here you go,” I offer, sliding it over. “Game later, right?”

Of course, there’s a game later; I know there is, we all know that I know, but it’s boy conversation.

“Uhuh, Coach is starting me tonight, kinda pumped.”

I knew that too. He’s been on about it all week, but we keep up appearances here in make-believe land. “Oh, neat, good luck!”

“You coming with Rob?” Carson asks, pointing a forkful of Penne in my direction. “

“Mhm,” I offer, “Someone’s got to cheer for him or the poor guy will suck worse than Face.”

“Hey, you’re tight with that Megan Byrne chick, right?” Carson queries. “Has she said anything about Rob, ever?”

This is uncharted territory…what do I do here, with boys talking about dating and romance? I don’t think I ever got this lesson. On the other hand, oh how I do love a little bit of gossip. “No, why? What’s the dumbass been admitting to?”

“He’s seriously into her,” he grins. “If you were cool, you might sound her out for him, you know… he’d never ask you himself.”

Obviously, he’s my brother, it would be weird, duh. What is weirder still, is that I’m expected to be privy to girl talk with Meg and Kara. The fact that they don’t see anything unusual about this is mildly hilarious.

“Just why would I want to help out my brother’s dating life?” I enquired, trying to maintain my expression with a slight dose of mild revulsion. “On top of that, why would she tell me if she liked him, she’s a girl.”

Look, I have to pretend to be a ‘Girls are from Venus and I forgot my space suit,’ teenage boy. Note to self; do not look at Rick or you will blow the act.

“You can’t tell me you guys aren’t tight,” Carson insists with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not sure what you’ve got going on, but you’re always with her and her sister. They gotta tell you something, right?”

Rick is chucking silently across the table and enjoying every moment of this. I boot him under the table while smiling politely. He knows full well what they tell me and why, asshole.

“Uh, well, you know, maybe…” I concede reluctantly. “Look, I can’t promise anything, nor am I ruining a friendship to help Rob hook up either.”

“I knew you’d help out, he’s been moping about her for weeks,” Carson grins. “We really appreciate you doing us a solid.”

I swear, these guys are freaking blind. Thank god, because if they could see how they were acting and what was in front of them I’d be in serious trouble.

I munch thoughtfully on my pasta as I ponder my present circumstances. I’ve found a generally manageable way to play the boy game and it’s just about working out. People treat me like a girl more than not, but they seem to see a boy in their heads. Don’t get me wrong, plenty of the assholes still call me fag and queer. The difference is that they did that before I started hormones too, so nothing has really changed there.

High school; gotta love it.

 

 

Sitting out on the bleachers at games is freezing cold at this time of year. Granted it’s in the high fifties to low sixties, but to me, that’s pretty cold, ok? Due in no small part to the weather this evening, I was wrapped up warm like the rest of the spectators; with Gloves and hats all around.

I was up in our usual spot with Meg and Kara and the three of us looked pretty indistinguishable. That is, except for the fact I wasn’t wearing a skirt like the mental patient named Megan Byrne.

“My legs are going to fall off,” dumbass number one whined, rubbing her thighs.

“You chose it, I did warn you,” her sister adds, handing me one of the hotdogs that she had just returned from acquiring.

“But I wanted to look good,” she moaned. “I…”

“In case you get a chance to talk to my brother, you mean.” I dangle casually, taking a bite from my meaty treat.

The death stare I receive tells me that I’m right on the mark as expected. Megan slumps with resignation and nods. “Yes, fine, I wanted to look pretty in case I got a chance to speak to your stupid gorgeous brother, ok?”

I grin like a shark, “What would it be worth if I were to make an introduction, maybe… nudge the needle in your favor?”

Meg’s eyes narrowed, “Holly Juliette Winters, you mercenary, what do you want?”

I shrug. “World peace, the blood of your firstborn, or maybe the loan of those Prada heels your Gran got you last Christmas.”

“You rat,” she giggled. “Ok, deal, I’ll let you borrow the heels. Will you make me an intro?”

“I’d do it anyway,” I shrug. “I would never dare charge you, gorgeous heels or not. Plus, news just in from Boyworld is that Rob is already interested, so it’s barely any actual work.”

Meg’s face changes to one of gleeful hope in a heartbeat. “Wait, he is? he likes me? You’re not kidding?”

“Since when did you get included in the guy talk mailing list?” Kara interjects.

“Actually, Carson asked me at lunch if you must know.” I shrug. “Apparently, because I’m friends with you two, I’m somehow party to your romantic interests and able to sway you to a particular boy’s heart.”

“So they think you’re included in our girl talk… and that you can try to talk up one of their friends for them,” Kara confirms, raising an eyebrow.

I make a face and nod. “Yeah, apparently they skipped that memo. I didn’t tell them that bleeding heart here is into Rob anyway. They don’t get to find out any secrets.”

Kara grins. “They see you like a little sister; their spy in girl world.”

I considered her thoughts as I watched one of the opposing team's players get his soul dumped out of his body. “Yeah, you’re probably right about that. Although I’m pretty sure they have no idea that they do it.”

“You confuse them; They see… whatever the fuck you pretend to be at school, but their little brains and their junk says girl,” Meg opines. “They have no idea why, but you do.”

“Do you want this in with Rob or not?”

“Oh god, yes please,” she whines grabbing onto the front of my coat, “please, please, please!”

“If you’re going to kill Miss Winters, Miss Byrne, I recommend doing it off school grounds. It reduces our liability.”

The three of us spin around at the sound of an adult voice and spot Mrs Carlos, the girl’s Principal looking down with an amused expression on her face.

“Uh, sorry Ma’am, I wasn’t… I mean, we were just messing…” Meg stammers, releasing me from her clutches.

“I’m aware, Miss Byrne. You’re not actually in trouble… unless that skirt gives you hypothermia.” She adds glancing down at Megan’s fashion choice with a sly smirk. “Good evening, girls.”

The principal turns and leaves us to our business. It’s nice to be included like that; it's so normal. Still feels a little strange to hear out loud, but it feels right.

“I told you it was too short, you’re going to look like a desperate skank.” Kara points out, jabbing her sister in the ribs.

“Better desperate than like my vagina gave up and left home,” Meg fires back.

I blink at the remark for a second then mentally shrug. I’ve heard similar and worse from boys. These two are really, really, special.

A whole lot of football later and the game was over. It was another victory for the glorious Lions and there was a pretty jubilant atmosphere down on the field. True to my word, I had plans to engineer a proper introduction between my best friend and my brother. Magnanimous lady, aren’t I?

There are many that might think it felt strange, nudging my brother together with one of my friends, but the truth is, while it was a little ick, I wanted them both to be happy. They were the perfect fit for each other; Rob was an outgoing but secretly sensitive guy and Meg… well, behind the firebrand was a sensitive and thoughtful girl who yearned for a kindred spirit.

My girls had been there for me and so has Rob in just as many ways. I could handle the nausea that the idea of them making out generated if it meant they were both happy. Aren’t I just a little saint?

With our team set to cinch the division with relative ease, things were looking pretty cozy. After navigating a sea of band members, players, family, and other hangers-on, we eventually found our way to our little knot of players.

Rob, Carson, and Rick were together by the end zone when we finally reached them. They were laughing at something RJ had said. Knowing him, chances are it was filthy dirty, and unsuitable for primetime, so I shall not repeat it.

“Hey guys, awesome game,” I called, giving my brother a wave.

“Hey spike,” Rob grinned, ruffling my hair with his massive paw.

“Gerroff, asshat,” I complain, smoothing my hair back into place under my hood.

“You guys enjoy the show?” Carson preened. “I hope y’all caught my naked reverse to Ricky Boy here for the final TD. That was a beautiful setup, if I do say so myself.”

“Naked reverse for a TD… that sounds like something from Sex Ed class.” Kara points out innocently. “I’m pretty sure Miss Morton went over that the other day.”

“I uh,” Carson scratched his head as he turned red. “It’s a pass… thing.”

I’m not entirely sure which sister is worse, but they're pretty much at a dead heat today. I think it’s time to lay some groundwork.

“Are you guys off to West’s tonight to celebrate?”

“After a big victory like this one? You betcha bottom dollar we are,” RJ grins. “Y’all gonna join us?”

“Sure, we’d love to,” I answer for the group. “If we can bum a ride off my brother that is.”

Rob cocks an eyebrow, “sure, but why? You never come to West’s with us.”

“I’m changing my mind, I’m allowed to,” I shrug. “Plus you guys did great; I wanna help you celebrate.”

I am not the only member of my family with enhanced senses where Rattus Rattus is concerned. Brother dearest senses deception, but is thankfully none the wiser when it comes to my intent. I may have to beg forgiveness later if this one goes south.

Rob squints at me for a moment, trying to suss out my game before finally agreeing. “Alright, you can ride with me; but no screwing around and these two can walk from our place later, I’m not a damn taxi.”

“Thanks, bro, I knew you were our savior,” I replied cheerily. Drawing an even more suspicious scowl from him. Am I going to milk this entire debacle for all it’s worth? You betcha.

The conversation returns to the game and we we chat aimlessly for a few more minutes before the coach comes to round up his guys. Apparently, the dude wanted to get home, who knew? While they departed for the locker rooms, we began to join the crowds wandering out of the stadium and toward the parking lot.

I haven’t told you what I’m wearing, have I? I forgot this is a trans-fiction epic and thus, my every attire is of vital narrative importance to you all. Contra to Principal Carlos, I am not En-Holly at the moment, well, mostly not.

I am wearing girls' boy-cut jeans because, ironically enough, they fit me far better now and look more neutral. On top, I’m wearing a slouchy long-sleeved teeshirt, a sweater and my big winter coat. With a pair of gloves and the hood firmly up I’m nice and warm. I’m generally riding the out-of-uniform line as I always do between tomboy and runt. It’s about as far as my Alex impression goes these days, and it serves its purpose relatively well… ish.

Thankfully we didn’t need to wait long for the boys. Ten minutes after they had departed, the knot of players could be seen exiting the school buildings and making their way toward the lot. It didn’t take long for Rob to spot us waiting by his wheels.

“So are you guys going to tell me why you’re suddenly so interested in going to West’s?” Rob asks by way of greeting, unlocking his car.

“No reason at all; I just fancied a change,” I shrug, dragging Kara into the back seat with me. “Come on, we don’t want to be the last ones there!”

Rob glared at me suspiciously for a moment before he climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. Megan, with no choice left but the front seat, got in beside him and belted up. The parking lot is still rather full, so our departure was a slow affair. Once we were safely away from prying ears, the interrogation proper, began in earnest.

“What’s going on, Holly?”

“Me?”

“Yes you,” Rob gestures back at me in the mirror. “What exactly is my sister up to Kara? You’re the sensible one.”

“I have no idea, please leave me out of this,” the sensible sibling declared, raising her hands in surrender..

“Well?”

I shrug and smile in what I hope projects sweet innocence but comes across far more accurately as ‘shifty as hell’. “Nothing, Rob, nothing at… Oh, look, Rick’s behind us! Come on Kar, I forgot I had to ask him something!”

Before Rob or Megan can protest, the two of us have bolted from the back seat. We run back through the line of cars to where Rick’s pickup is idling. In a flash, I have the door open and we both join him on the front bench in a giggling heap.

“Heya,” I grin, looking up from the tumble.

“What the hell kinda musical cars are you guys playing at?” Rick asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Setting up my sister,” declares my friend. “Hello, Kara Byrne, a pleasure, of course.”

“Uh, hey,” Rick offers with a half-hearted and firmly confused wave. “Holly, what is?”

“Remember how Rob likes Megan?” I prompt. “Well, you idiots wanted me to set them up: Guess what? Megan also likes Rob too. I couldn’t exactly say that at lunch today, so Instead, we’re playing matchmakers.”

Rick chuckles and shakes his head. “I swear to god, you’re exactly like Anna.”

“Who’s Anna?” Kara asks from the door side.
“His older sister,” I explain. “Apparently she had taste.”

Rick rolls his eyes and puts the truck in gear to follow the line of slowly moving cars. “So you’re really coming to hang at Wests huh? I thought you were avoiding the after-game scene?”

“I can stick it out, if we can give Meg and Rob a little time to get to know each other,” I admit. “I just have to stay Alex the whole time.”

There’s a snort beside me which is resolved with a swift elbow to the ribs. “I’ll… I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Rick raises an eyebrow but says nothing. Why is everyone else so convinced I’m bad at this?

The truth is, I’m not entirely opposed to going to West’s. At the start of the semester, sure, it wasn’t my scene at all. Now, however, I’ve somehow managed to become friends with a lot of the team guys, so the idea is far from unappealing. My only worries are playing Alex outside of school, and spending time as a version of me that I cannot stand. Tonight isn’t for me though, so I can and will tough it out. Remember, it’s hoes before bros, In this case literally.

West’s is a popular hangout with teens in our area. It’s like a bar, but without alcohol and it has a diner attached that serves food until late. It’s pretty popular with all the cool kids from school and generally seen as a tiny bit exclusive. You know the sort; it’s the place sports teams go to celebrate after a game… yeah, that sort.

Rick pulled the truck into the lot at West’s. It was only a half hour after the end of the game and yet, the place was already heaving with kids.

“You sure you wanna go in?”

I shrugged as I watched Rob’s car pull into the lot behind us. Neither occupant of the car was bleeding, so clearly it was going ok so far. Whether she’d let us survive what I had done was another matter.

“Yeah, we should; Meg won’t forgive us if we leave. I can manage to keep my head down for a few hours. This is for her and Rob, not me.”

“Well let’s go then,” He called hopping down from the cab. “I need a burger bad. After that game, I could almost eat a hor…”

I glare up at him, “Don’t you dare.”

The music inside West’s was the usual cheesy pop of the era blasting just loud enough to force us to elevate our voices and stand close to be heard. It was certainly hot inside, full as it was with kids. As such, my coat didn’t survive particularly long before it was off. Most of the football guys were over in the diner area filling their faces with processed meat and it was in this direction we gravitated.

“Hey, you guys made it!” Face beamed, ripping a hotdog in half with his jaws like a hydraulic press. “Alex, dude, you too!”

“Yeah, Face, I came,” I offer, “good game by the way.”

“Yeah dude, it was epic, we crushed the Badgers like the rodents they are.”

“Dude, Badgers are mammals,” some guy pointed out, quite correctly.

Contrary to your expectations, I wasn’t immediately pointed at and exposed as a girl. Everyone was rather more focused on stuffing their faces. Honestly, being of secondary or tertiary importance to food and football is totally fine by me. Did I sit with Rick? Yes, I did. We are meant to be friends after all, and I’m capable of sitting next to the boy for a few minutes without trying to kiss him. What kind of girl do you take me for?

It was quite relaxing to snarf my fries and let the conversation wash over me. Across from our booth, I could keep a reasonable eye on Rob and Megan who were sitting with RJ and Monika. Both couples, and yes, I did say couples, seemed to be getting on rather well. Was that a look that Megan just gave my brother? God, being a matchmaker feels pretty darn powerful.

“Your plan seems to be working,” Kara muses, following my gaze.

“So far,” I agree. “but who really knows if it will last? The female has been known to devour her mate after the act.”

Rick gives us a look and shakes his head, “You two scare me sometimes.”

“Who scares what?” Carson asks as he drops back into his seat. “‘Nuther burger dude?”

Rick accepts the food with a nod and gestures toward the fledgling lovebirds. “Winters and Megan; Alex’s managed to work some magic.”

Carson regards the two and grins broadly, “Nice work Alex, how the heck did you make that happen?”

“Trade secrets,” I shrugged nonchalantly, popping a fry into my mouth. “If I told you I would have to kill you.”

Carson doffs an imaginary cap and bows his head. “I’ll give it to you, I didn’t actually know if you could even pull it off.”

“Such low expectations,” I chuckle. “You did ask, I delivered.” I won’t be telling him that she was already into him. My knowing that feels a little too privileged for a boy. This whole thing is a bit more exposure than I would need. Either way, everything seems to have worked out for the best. All I have to do is see the night out and I’m home free.

While some of the simpering fandoms come to kiss Carson’s ring, I excuse myself and make for the mini arcade where the volume is a little lower. Here, I can put my quarters to some good use and keep myself out of trouble.

I have my father to thank for my love of gaming. When I was little, he took me and Rob to an arcade during a family vacation in Florida. We spent several hours blasting and bleeping away in gaming heaven. For me, it was the start of a love that I still hold to this day.

One of my favorite games is Blockblaster. It’s a super retro game where you have to stack different-shaped blocks that fall down the screen. I remember getting a copy on my handheld gaming console when I was eleven, but there’s no beating it in an arcade cabinet.

I can’t tell you how long I was playing for, but I was seriously into my game. Stacking blocks is serious business and I was rolling through the levels like a champ. My hands were starting to get a little sore and the one foot that I was favoring was falling asleep.
It was so warm in West’s that I’d even shed my sweater. Hunched over an arcade machine, my slouchy long-sleeve t-shirt was baggy enough to hide my shape, mostly. It’s pretty easy to forget gender dysphoria when you’re lost in a video game.

“I could never manage to get past the first few levels,” Rick admitted by way of greeting as he arrived beside me. “I’m not surprised that my girl is kicking its ass though; beauty and brains.”

“It doesn’t involve throwing a ball, so I’m pretty decent,” I concede, not taking my eyes off the screen while I flow.

“They have one of those layup machines here,” Rick points out, moving around behind me. I can feel his presence close by and I hear his voice in my ear, low and husky. “I could help you aim, take the ball and your hands in mine and guide the shot, have you right there, close to me.”

My heart flutters and I fudge a block. I can feel him right behind me, just like he was in the arcade that Saturday long ago. My breath catches in my throat as my heart starts to race. “Rick… don’t…” I complain feebly. “Not here, please.”

“God, I want you so bad, Holly,” he murmurs in my other ear. I feel his hand slide down my side and come to rest on my hip. “It’s so hard to resist you every day.”

I swallow, but there’s nothing there, I watch the blocks stack up until the game-over message scrolls down the screen. I don’t even give a modicum of a fuck anymore. Rick takes my hand from the joystick and spins me around until my back is up against the cabinet. “Not here, please Rick,” I beg, not for a moment hoping that he stops.

“There’s nobody here,” he grins wolfishly, glancing around. “They’re all in the bar playing pool. “There’s nobody here but you and me. I could kiss you and nobody would ever know.”

My heart is pounding and I feel powerless as he holds my hands up against the frame of the machine. As much as I feel trapped, it feels… exciting. “We shouldn’t...Rick…”

Rick glances around again and shrugs, “There’s nobody here but us. I know you want me to do it as much as I do,” he points out. I have no idea why, but my teenage mind is so flooded with hormones that it rejects a million reasons why this is a really bad idea. All I know is that horny teenage girl brain says kiss the hot boy pushing you against the wall. My nipples are rock hard and I want him to touch them so badly that I push my chest forward as I tilt my head up towards him. “Rick…”

He leans down and pauses for a split second, teasing me, before allowing our lips to finally connect. His flesh feels like molten metal to the touch as we kiss hungrily, right there in the arcade. I can feel his hands on my body as we make out, my skin feels like a thousand volts are running through it.

I don’t know if it’s the public location that it’s so close to our classmates and friends, but I am so unbelievably taken by the moment that I have given all sense of reason to the pursuit of passion. At that moment, I didn’t care what or where we were. I didn’t give a damn who knew; I love this boy.

That idea comes crashing back to reality when I spot someone walking past us. The girl isn’t familiar and she doesn’t pay us a blind bit of attention. Fortunately, it reminds me of what we’re doing and where we are. Like being slapped in the face with a flaccid trout, the passion is gone and I’m back in the real world.

“Rick, no,” I assert, gently pushing him back. “We can’t, not here…”

Rick’s face transitions from confusion to understanding and he nods, clearly still flustered. He is coming to his own slightly slower realization as his own horny mist subsides. “I’m sorry Holly, I… you’re… I can’t resist you.”

I grin sheepishly and give him a look that suggests I’m in total agreeance as I straighten my clothes. “I feel the same. We don’t have long left. We can hold out… probably.”

Rick grins and nods. “Wanna head back? Show our faces?”

I nod reluctantly. “Best had, or they’ll wonder what we’re up to.”

We make our way back through to find the others who are indeed playing pool over by the bar area. Calling it a bar is generous; the strongest things they sell are energy drinks.

Socializing, in this context, mostly means standing around while other people talk. I don’t actually have to give much input, just be seen in public with these people. Ever since the cat got released from her hessian prison, It’s been an increasingly difficult job to maintain Alex. If I let myself slip when I’m talking to the girls, Rob or Rick, I could get myself in real trouble.

From my inexperienced observations, Operation: Loveheart has been going swimmingly. So far, Megan and Rob seem to be behaving in a very friendly manner towards one another and I’m pretty sure I noticed a few hand brushes occurring. Hopefully, something useful has been kindled here tonight.

Being a teen hangout, we were all kicked out a little before ten that evening. I long to kiss Rick goodbye, but with so many people around we have to be strong. Rather, I have to be strong for the both of us if tonight is anything to go by. Well, I played my part too, but that doesn’t matter… probably.

Rob, true to his word was waiting by the car when we finally made it outside. Recovering coats could be a complicated business sometimes, especially when Kara insisted on peeing before we left. With little fanfare, we all piled into the car to head home. It wasn’t missed that Megan chose the front passenger seat of her own accord this time.

The ride home was light and friendly with the four of us chatting away after what had turned out to be a pretty decent evening. It would have been a billion times better if I was Holly for all of this, but hey, my time will come.

Once we dropped the sisters home and it was just Rob and I remaining, he changed the topic almost immediately.

“Don’t think I didn’t see your little games tonight,” he pointed out as we set out for home.

“You two needed a shove,” I point out. “Promise you’ll treat her well? She’s one of my best friends.”

Rob glances over and nods. “Thank you, Holly.”

Aw shucks. “You deserve to be happy,” I reply, squeezing his arm.

Rob chuckled quietly. “When the guys told me they sent you off to try and put a word in for me with Megan… I knew they had no idea what they were asking. I never thought you’d actually do it though.”

“She likes you too, but I think you already know that,” I point out.

“Yeah, she does… we do,” he admits.

My brother looks happy; that makes tonight worthwhile to me. Now, I just to make sure that both of them know that if they hurt the other, I can get access to very sharp blades.

 

 

Gaming was always one of my favorite activities, but I’m pretty sure you’re well aware of that by now. I spent most of Saturday morning lounging on the sofa with my controller blasting bad guys and snatching gold as my favorite cartoon dragon.

For me, gaming had been a genderless distraction that allowed me to escape the bounds of my physical body and vanish into the digital world. There, I could be a magical beast, a boy, a girl, or anything that I wanted to be. I will admit, I loved swinging from platform to rockface in pursuit of ancient treasure as Laura Loft, even if most of my classmates only liked her for her pixelated assets.

A text on my phone disturbs my gaming, making me miss a jump and fly head-first into an explosive vase. My rather crispy dragon blinks back at me in disappointment, covered in soot before she passes out. Sigh.

Kara: “Hv tht CD 4 u, bring ov l8r x K.”

She had been promising to lend me one of her new albums the night before, so I had been half expecting the message. Now that it’s acceptable for me to listen to girly pop I may or may not be going down a very pink rabbit hole; I have no regrets.

Returning my phone to the sofa’s arm, I restarted the level and got back to playing. While today was intended to be a casual and lazy day at home, I had taken care to dress nicely that morning, if still somewhat comfortably. After last night, a tiny part of me was hoping that Rick would call by unannounced again; this time I would not be found unprepared!

I was wearing a cropped slouchy sweater in a lovely cream color that was hanging off one shoulder with a flouncy floral maxi skirt. It made me feel extra girly; after spending extended time as Alex yesterday, that felt rather good. My hair was neatly brushed and my makeup was light; just a little mascara and some gloss. Overall, I was a pretty well-put-together gal for a day on the sofa.

Another level completed, I checked my phone; still no texts or calls from Rick. Maybe I’m over-preparing for something that isn’t going to happen? As nice as it feels to look good, I’m also a major proponent of sweatpants and tank tops. Cozy goblin mode is pretty hard to overstate.

I turned off the console and replaced my controller in the cabinet before heading for the stairs. If he comes over, he can hang out with me on the sofa and experience Goblin Holly at her very finest. I can’t have the boy expecting me to be a perfect model of femininity every time we are together; he might get ideas.

The doorbell rings as I reach the top of the stairs. Turning, I trotted back down just as Rob stuck his head out of the kitchen, half a sandwich sticking out of his face. I wave him off as I skid across the tile floor trying to stop in my stocking feet, “I got it, It’s Kara for me!”

You know how my dumbass works, right? Blind hope, luck, epic incompetence, and a dash of high charisma score. I don’t bother to check my assumption, being an all-knowing teen. Instead, I swing the door wide open. “Thought you were coming lat…”

“Uh, Chrissie?” Garry asked, furrowing his brow.

Oh fuck.

“Alex? What the fuck are you wearing?”

Shit, fuck, shit, fuck… think fast… don’t think fast… panic.

“I can… I can expl…” I sigh, letting my shoulders drop, “I got nothing.”

“What the hell is this?”

Rob wanders up behind me still eating. “Hol, you good? Either get in here or close the doo… oh.”

Fuck

Rob looks down at Gary’s growing disgust and frowns, “Right, you… inside.”

“Ugh, no,” Gary frowns. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Because I’m telling you,” he growls. “Get inside right now, or I will pound you to dust, runt.”

His revulsion at me aside, Gary complies with the slab of brother’s demands and slinks into the lobby. On the way past he casts me a sidelong look of something approaching disgust.

“Why are you pretending to be a girl? Why is your brother ok with it?”

“I’m not pretending,” I reply with more conviction than I feel. I realize I’ve got to make a stand here. I gesture at my body, “I am a girl and this is the real me.”

“You’re not a girl, Alex.” Gary points out. “You’ve got a dick, I’ve seen it.”

“You; have a bit more respect for her,” Rob growls as he folds his arms menacingly. He stands behind me as an imposing wall of gorilla, seemingly content to let me do most of the talking. Scary dog privilege is real I guess…

“I know that, Gary.” I start out slowly, not willing to look him in the eyes. “I know what my body was like, but that isn’t who I am; not inside.”

“So you want to be a girl? That’s weird. You were a normal guy yesterday!”

I laugh at that, a genuine, heartfelt laugh. “I’ve not been normal for a very long time. Can you honestly tell me that I’ve been particularly guyish? I like you Gary, but I’m not like you.”

I look up, and he’s staring at me. It’s not disgust, but it’s a serious disdain. “How long have you been gay?”

Eye roll.

I doubt this will be the last time that someone asks that question, so let's try to be polite about it.

“I’m not gay; this isn’t about who I want to date or anything. This is about who I am, in my heart.”

Gary glances at Rob who is still glowering from one side like some sort of violent referee. He returns his gaze to me and inclines his head like a spaniel. “This is why you’ve been spending so much time with my sisters, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” I admit with a shrug. I watch his eyes as they follow my chest as my shoulders move and regret the action immediately. “I told them back in September.”

“Figures; I was convinced you’d turned gay,” he admitted. “How come your brother knows?”

“Because she’s my sister,” Rob interjects for the first time. “She’s our parent's daughter, our sister, and her name is Holly.”

Gary’s eyebrows rise. “Shit, you told your parents? They didn’t ship you off to some shrink?”

“I’m not crazy, I’m transgender. This isn’t some sickness or curable thing.”

“Like on the talk shows? Transvestite?”

“Transgender,” I correct. “It means that I was born in the wrong body, my heart, my soul… is female. My body… well, it was male.”

“Was?”

I blush, I don’t really want to have this conversation. “I’m being treated, and it involves changing me, with like, medication.”

“A sex change? So why are you still at our school?”

The word makes me cringe but my young self in the early 2000s doesn’t correct him. Now? I hate the idea of it like the many other slurs. “I’m transferring at the end of the semester, so I’ve just got to make it to the end. Please don’t say anything to anyone?”

Gary seems to mull over the words for a moment. “I guess,” he shrugs. He seems surprisingly non-committal, but thankfully Rob helps to clarify matters.

“You’re not going to say shit, Gary. If you do, I will ensure the entire football team uses you for tackle drills until you end up in a wheelchair.”

Gary turns white and holds up his hands. “Yeah, ok dude, I get it. I won’t say anything about he… hi…her?”

Rob looks at me and I give him a curt nod. That’s about as close as I can expect from whatever this messed-up situation is. I will have to inform his superiors of his awareness so they can properly deal with their brother. Oh, you thought I meant his parents? No dear reader, his superiors.

Rob walks Gary out, leaving me alone in the lobby. I’m not sure how I plonked myself in this mess, but I managed to just about survive it for now. I really need to be a lot more careful going forward. Thank god big brother was there to step in. If I had been here alone, I am positive that my truth would be all over the school by Monday. As it is, I’m relatively confident that he’s never going to utter a word.

Have I lost a friend? Time will tell.

Probably... Sigh.

 

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

 

 

Never let it be said that I am not an idiot. No, not academically, but in so many other aspects of my life, it would hold pretty true. In a way, as Holly, I am but a young infant, discovering her life as events unfold. The joy and excitement of being the real me is kinda like realizing that I really enjoy chewing my hand or giggling insanely at my parents as they pull silly faces; It’s all new and exciting and I really don’t know where the rules are. The fact that I made it this far in my life and with my transition with only so few mistakes is genuinely a miracle.

I keyed the passcode into the pedestrian gate at school that Monday morning after Dad dropped me off. It feels a long way removed from that first morning back, was it really only ten weeks ago?
I slowly sip my coffee as I walk into the building; the warmth is reassuring and the caffeine rekindles my fragile sanity. The corridors are quiet as I make my way inside and head for the common room. As per usual, the place is like a tomb at this time of day. I once feared it, but now? Not so much.

Inside, I find myself a cozy spot on the sofa and curl up to sip my coffee. One more week and it’s Thanksgiving and this year I really do have something to be thankful for. Having my family know the real me is something I never actually imagined could possibly happen. Hell, even on a personal level, I’m thankful that I will never have to go to the Boys’ Division again.
Another week after that and I’ll be in Germany, holy crap! Time is ticking down, and if I can keep… incidents… to a minimum, I could possibly make it out of this mess alive. Obviously, I’ll have to deal with a new school and being known to be trans; oh boy, that’s going to be a wild adventure.

Speaking of incidents; A Byrne sibling without ovaries walks in as I’m contemplating my survival. Oh boy, what timing. Rather than walk over to our usual area, he sits deliberately off to the other side of the common room and pulls out a book. Ok Buster; two can play at that game.
I collect my bag and my coffee and get up. Noticing my movement, Gary looks up and looks set to reposition; I guess I really do have cooties now. Instead, I keep my head held high and walk over to the football team’s spot, plop down on the sofa and deliberately ignore him. Another benefit of this spot is that it has prime TV angles and the remote is on the table next to me. I turn it on and put on a news program. Hopefully, the noise will disturb his reading. See? I can be petty too.

“Trouble in paradise?”

I glance up and spot Carson slinging his bag onto one of the other sofas. About fifteen minutes have passed and I’ve been sitting here, zoned out staring at the screen.

“Mayhaps.”

Carson drops into a seat and props his feet up. “Whatever; you’re welcome here. I just never expected to find you inviting yourself over.”

“I can change,” I smirk, casting a glance at Gary and two of the other nerdlings that I used to hang with. I hope he keeps his mouth shut.

“Sure you can,” Carson grins, “Things work out with Megan and your Bro after Friday?”

Did they? They actually did. I’m pretty sure I heard Brother Dearest on the phone to Meg on Sunday night after I had filled her and Kara in on the doorstep incident. “I dunno,” I shrug. “I’m not exactly on Rob’s ‘tell about my love life’ list.”

“Did Megan say anything?”

Jeez, who knew that guys cared this much about relationship shenanigans? Admittedly, I haven’t ever really hung out with the romantically active males of the species until recently. The past few days have certainly raised my threat levels, so I’m slightly more aware of the fact that he’s expecting a female friend to tell me about her romantic entanglements.

“Apparently, they’re seeing where it goes,” I offer neutrally, gesturing behind Carson. “You can always ask him yourself.”

“Ask me what?” Rob inquires, dropping onto the sofa beside me along with Face and Pete, another Defensive lineman.

“Carson wants to know if Meg got you to put out. He seems to think you’re a bit loose, brother dear.”

Rob starts for a moment before he realizes I’m putting him on. “You think I tell this runt what I get up to?”

“I mean, you needed him to fight your battles, dude.” Carson shrugs playfully.

“I never asked her to do that!”

Shit, Rob you fuckwit!

“But she wanted to go out with you, so it all worked out, didn’t it?” I throw in brightly, giving Big Brother a playful elbow. “Right, Rob? Megan, she totally wanted to go out with you.”

“Uh, yeah,” he frowns before his eyes widen. “Uh, yeah no, yeah, she did.”

My brother is an idiot, he owes me for that mistake.

Thankfully, nobody noticed Rob’s little pronoun slip. I’ve told you a thousand times how unobservant people can be. The reality is that I was way more scared than I needed to be, but at the same time, paranoia prevented things like Gary…

 

 

“Mister Winters, pay attention, please.”

I glowered at the honorific but held my tongue. I’m sitting in Algebra, and Mister Clark is being especially prickly today. I’d been paying attention the entire class as he droned on and on about Quadratics, but the one moment when I chose to glance out the window for two literal seconds, I was jumped on.

“I would appreciate your undivided attention while I cover material relevant to your final, Mister Winters.”

“I’m sorry sir, I just looked at the window one time,” I offer sheepishly.

“Four additional pages of exercises for tomorrow.” Clark declares with a dirty look. “Do you want to continue to argue with me?”

“No sir,” I murmur.

I wish I had no idea why my teacher was picking on me but sadly, I have a pretty good idea. See, Clark is usually the sort to call people by their first names, in fact, he does and did, even to me. Ever since the school found out about Holly and some of my educators were informed, he has become a colossal asshole.

What can I really do about it? I can’t challenge him about it or go to the Principal; no, he would refute the claim or back it up with trumped-up evidence of my behavior. All I can do is comply and keep my mouth shut. It’s only a few weeks to go, right?

I never expected things to go perfectly, but it certainly puts a dampener on your day when people act like dicks for the mere sake of it. Between Gary and Mister Clark, I know it’s not even the worst yet. Imagine how bad it will get when I’m actually out.

Just how many people who are friendly now will turn on me later? It’s ironic really; as a girl undercover, I made more cool guy friends than I ever did as Alex. Somehow I think the more outwardly feminine I get, the more my personality matches. When I was just a boy that behaved like a girl, people thought I was strange. The more I resemble Holly, the less weird it seems, even if they don’t outwardly notice it.

The bell rings and Clark lets us out. I quietly take my extra homework without complaint. It sucks, but it also won’t hurt me to do some more exercises; the joke’s on him, it helps me get my grade up so I still win after all. If the worst thing that I have to face is a passive-aggressive old man with a superiority complex, then I’m not doing too badly.

Walking through the halls, I marveled at the position I was in. I had mentally checked out as a member of the division and I was pretty happy about it. Who would have thought that I would be here, about to finish my last weeks among the boys before transferring to be with the girls as I deserved. It’s insane to really think that your life, which was filled with existential pain for so long could finally be turning up good.

Bad things, it seems, really do indeed come in groups of three, because contemplating my more feminine future apparently let my Alex mask slip. One moment, I’m imagining starting my new school in January and the next, I’m flying through the air. I land hard, the wind knocked out of me, and come to rest against the wall. I blink hard and gasp for air, momentarily stunned by the impact.

“Fucking fairy,” a voice sneers loudly before kicking me in the ribs. “Take your fucking queerness elsewhere.”

My chest exploded with pain and I curled into a ball to prevent further impacts. I feel another foot hit me but after that, nothing further comes. After a few moments with no further kicks, I tentatively eased myself up and took stock of my surroundings. I looked for the owner of the voice, but there were no likely culprits, just a sea of moving students paying my plight no attention. I wish bullying was uncommon here, but it’s sadly a part of school life. Unless there’s a good chance of a fight, people ignore it and stay in their lane.

I hauled myself to my feet and dusted myself down. I have no idea who did it, so there was nothing to really report; the story of my scholastic experience in a nutshell. It hurt a little to breathe but nothing felt broken, so I picked up my bag and shuffled away in pain.

When I made it to German class, the look that Frau Whistler gave me told me that something was far more wrong than I had initially assumed. “Alex, my gosh, what happened to you?”

“Huh?” I replied brightly.

“Your face sweetheart; what happened?”

I reached up and touched my cheek and recoiled when I felt the twinge of pain. “I.. uh, tripped; it’s nothing really.”

Frau Whistler shook her head and guided me toward the door, “You and I are going to the nurse’s office right this minute.”

Before we left, she turned to address the class, fixing them with a stern look that suggested that crossing her would be extremely ill-advised. “Read quietly and I will send up the secretary to cover for me until I return. If she reports any nonsense at all, you will all be receiving extra homework. Am I understood?”

After affirmative sounds and a rustling of books, she took me by the shoulder and guided me out into the corridor.

“What really happened to you?”

I shrugged painfully as we walked. “I got tripped and booted; I never saw who did it. What’s wrong with my face?”

“Your cheek is starting to develop a nasty bruise, and judging by your posture, I’m guessing that more of you is hurt too.”

I grimaced as I gingerly touched my ribs and nodded.

Frau Whistler tutted angrily to herself as we walked along the corridor. Honestly, she seemed more miffed about this than I was. Of course, it hurt, but it wasn’t exactly the first time that something like this had happened to me. Is it wrong to say that I was almost used to it?

Frau Whistler paused briefly at the office to pass on her message before escorting me outside and across the quad toward the Girls’ Division. It was only once we were in no-mans-land, that she spoke openly to me.

“Holly, you need to come to us when bullying like this occurs, especially now. What if they had uncovered your secret?”

“If I knew who it was, I promise that I would have said something,” I sigh. “But I honestly didn’t see a thing.”

Frau Whistler gave me a sad look but said nothing. Across the Quad, we make our way up to the Girls’ Division entrance and sign in before making our way through the corridors to the nurse’s office. Deja vu moment? It certainly wasn’t my first visit here this semester, but that felt like a lifetime ago now.

The last time I was in this building, I was here as Holly, a prospective new student. Hell, come January I WOULD be a new student here; it was guaranteed. It feels a far cry away from being here in a suit, dressed as Alex, I was almost ashamed for anyone to see me like this.

A few moments later, we arrived at the Nurse’s office and Frau Whistler guided me in through the open door.

“Judith, do you have a moment? We’ve had a bit of an accident.”

Nurse Carter looked up from her paperwork and spotted the two of us in her little waiting area. “Oh dear, let’s take a look at you, shall we? I think I have some ice around here somewhere.”

Frau Whistler closes the door behind herself and latches it. “Judith, I think you might need to do a bit more of an exam, there’s a complaint of a chest injury.”

The nurse looks a little confused.

Frau Whistler looks at me and raises an eyebrow. “You’re going to have to tell her, but it won’t leave the room, I promise.”

Sigh. Well, she’ll find out in January I suppose.

As if on cue, I turned bright red and couldn’t look her in the eye. “Uh, Nurse Carter… I’m uh… transgender, I um, my ribs… I uh… I have breasts.”

Carter’s look shifts from confusion to a smile of understanding. “Oh, I see! That’s not a problem honey, I’ve met some boys like you before when I was working downtown. Don’t fear; you’re safe with me, ok?”

Boys? Eye twitch.

I think Frau Whistler followed my line of thinking because she made a face. “Uh, Judith, I don’t think…”

“No, it’s ok, I’ve worked with a couple of transgender boys, I did some volunteering at a clinic and I know that top surgery is probably a way off honey, but I promise to be respectful, ok?”

Wait a second… does this chick…?

“Uh, um, Judith; Holly isn’t…”

“You’re not meant to use their birth names,” Nurse Carter chides my teacher. “What would you prefer I call you sweetie?”

Does she? Oh for fuck’s sake, she does.

“Judith, I think you’ve got it… backward.”

Nurse Carter looks between us uncertainly for a second. “You mean you…”

“Yeah… I kinda…”

“Oh…ooh!” Her eyes go wide. “Oh gosh, I’m so silly! I thought… Oh, wait… didn’t I see you once before this semester? I’m sure it was something food-related .”

I nodded, “Yep, the fish.”

“Your mother’s a surgeon, isn’t she?”

“Veronica Winters Ma’am, yes,” I reply. “I uh… I’m transferring here in January but for now, I gotta still… you know.”

The nurse nods sympathetically, “So what happened?”

“She was tripped in the hallway and kicked in the ribs,” Frau Whistler explains for me. “I don’t think it’s too bad but I wanted you to take a look, given her, delicate, situation.”

“Pop your upper clothing off then dear, are you… underneath?”

“Sports bra,” I admit, reddening a little.

“Pop behind the screen and take everything off but your bra, ok honey?”

I step behind the little rolling screen thing and start removing my clothing. I’m a little hesitant at first because I’m not entirely used to adults seeing Holly yet, never mind in my underwear. Once I’m done, I step back out and cough politely.

Frau Whistler and the nurse turn around and do a pretty poor job of masking their surprise. Me? I just stand there with my arms wrapped around my tummy waiting for the world to swallow me up.

Putting her surprise and curiosity behind her, Nurse Carter gave me a quick once over in her usual professional manner, gently touching my ribcage with her gloved fingers to check where it hurt. After a few moments, I was pronounced unbroken and permitted to get dressed again.

Honestly, I’m quite keen to get back into my uniform. Not because I like being Alex, but letting myself out of his mask has really upset who I’m meant to be right now. Sitting here being called Holly and wearing a bra in front of two other women is confusing my little head. Given that I’m here during the school day, It’s a great relief to get myself hidden once more. Knowing my luck, the entire football team would walk in with stubbed toes.

“Well, you’re going to have some lovely bruises, but I don’t think anything’s actually broken. If it persists beyond a few days, I would recommend visiting the urgent care. As it stands, I can give you something for the pain and you can get back to classes if you feel up to it?”

“I’m sorry for all the trouble,” I offer awkwardly, “I was ok, really…”

“Nonsense,” Frau Whistler replies. “You’re my student, and when you walk into my classroom looking like a beaten wife, I have a responsibility to her and her parents.”

What a choice of words… I swear, if anyone was going to bust my secret, it was likely one of the growing number of adults who can’t seem to keep my pronouns straight. I really don’t know why we let them run the world.

“I look forward to seeing you in the new year…Alex.” the nurse offers with a theatrical wink. Jesus, my existence is a joke to these idiots.

“No offense Ma’am, but I hope I never have to see you for this again, especially after January.”

That might have sounded harsh, but I really was sick of ending up here at the nurse's office. She was a nice lady, but getting my ass kicked was something that I was hoping was near its end. Not to say that girls don’t bully one another, but I expect it's a lot less physical usually. As long as I can keep out of the clutches of the boys for a few more weeks, I’ll be fine.

I was walking back across the central courtyard with Frau Whistler, clutching an ice pack to my cheek, when she stopped me by taking gentle hold of my shoulder. “Holly, look…I’m so very sorry.”

“Why?”

Frau Whistler looks about as upset as I’ve ever seen her. “I’m sorry about the bullying; I wish from the bottom of my heart that we could do more.”

I shrug, “There isn’t much that you can do when we don’t report stuff. They know how to keep a low profile and or intimidate us into staying quiet.”

She shakes her head and sighs, “It shouldn’t be that way.”

“It is what it is, welcome to High school.”

“Holly…” Frau Whistler frowns suddenly and seems lost for words. “In there… with the nurse. I had no idea that you...”

Oh… she’s referencing what she saw when I was out of Alex drag, standing there in my bra with real honest to god breasticles on my chest. I forgot that she’s only ever seen Alex mode and a bit of androgyny from me.

“Uh, yeah,” I chuckle, my bruised ribs making me instantly regret it.

“They said you… I… it was a surprise, is all.” she smiles politely.

I glance around us standing here in the central courtyard of the school between both divisions. It’s a little prophetic, given my current dual life. “Thank you for being kind to me, whether this makes sense or not.”

My teacher looks less than pleased. “Holly, you don’t need to thank me for being a decent human being. I may not understand what you’re going through but I would be a fool to think that you’re anything but a young lady. I’m sorry that the world can’t manage to treat people with human decency. Especially ones who have never lifted a finger against them.”

 

 

“Who the fuck hurt you?” my brother demanded, grabbing me out of the flow of students after next period.

“Whoah there, Rob, what’s gotten into you What do you mean hurt…?”

Rob glanced around before leaning in closer. “Holly, I can see the bruise on your cheek and Kelper said you got checked out to go see the nurse with a teacher last period, what am I meant to think? Again, who did this?”

“I don’t actually know,” I sigh. “Could have been anyone, Rob; I got tripped and kicked. The corridor was crowded. I never saw them, I promise.”

Rob relaxed a little when he realized I wasn’t purposefully hiding my attacker’s identity from him. “Sorry Hol, I just… I hated seeing you get your ass kicked before I knew the truth. Now? I…” he shrugged, not needing to say the rest.

We’re still out of sight so I touch his hand and smile. “I get it, Rob; thank you. Look, I have to get to class, I’ll see you later ok?”

Rob nodded, “Yeah, sure. Hey, what class was it?”

“After History, why?”

Rob works his jaw and shrugs, “Nothing, see you at home Spike.”

 

 

Modern Holly here; What follows is not something that I directly witnessed, but rather, heard about from a few sources after the fact; a little interrogation of my brother and boyfriend helped too. So far you have spent this entire book reading about things from my perspective, I think it’s about time you had a little break from that tragic mess. What comes next… is what boys do after dark… well, no, during the day actually… At School at least. I don't know, I just work here, ok?

I will clarify that it took a great deal of enhanced interrogation to convince my brother and boyfriend to reveal the truth of these events. US Military SEAR instructors would be quite proud of them both.

Holly reached up and touched Rob’s arm affectionately and gave him a small smile, the mask of Alex slipping away briefly. “I get it, Rob; thank you. Look, I have to get to class, I’ll see you later ok?”

Rob nodded, “Yeah, sure. Hey, what class was it?”

She frowned, “After History, why?”

Rob works his jaw and shrugs, “Nothing, see you at home Spike.”

Rob Winters watched his little sister disappear off down the corridor. It was amazing he could even manage to pretend to call her Alex anymore. Even here, dressed like all the boys and playing the role, he still saw right through it.

When Danny Kelper had told him about what he had seen, Rob had nearly lost it. As soon as he had been free from class, he had sought out his sister for answers. When he saw the bruise on her cheek and how she favored her ribs, he had murder on his mind.

Seeing his youngest sibling get bullied was always hard. He had always tried to be the best brother he could be. Then she came out; suddenly the kid brother turned out to be his kid sister and it all changed: Seeing some of the assholes at their school continue to hurt her now that he knew the truth? He could barely contain the rage he felt.

“Taylor, a word,” Rob growled, spotting the wide receiver chatting with a classmate in the corridor.

Rick broke off his conversation and fell in beside his teammate as he strode along the corridor.

“Did you hear what happened to…spike?”

Rick looked momentarily confused for a second before he caught on. “What? I didn’t… What happened?”

Rob worked his jaw as he fought to control his fury, “Some asshats put the boot in; she’s pretty bruised but she’s ok. No idea who did it, or none that she will tell me.”

“And you want to find out who so we can reeducate them?” Rick concluded.

Rob nodded, “apparently it was after History this morning, which she has on South Wing, level two. See who was there.”

“Rick nodded, his expression growing as dark as Rob’s, “Yeah, I know a lot of those guys, someone will have seen something.”

Rob bumped his fist and nodded his thanks. “Gotta get to class, man. Let me know what you find out.”

After the next period, Rick caught up to Rob as he was leaving Physics. “I got a lead; one of Granger’s guys was telling tales about… yeah. You know…” he shrugged, glancing around at nearby ears.

Rob nodded, “Wanna go see if he squeals?”

“I got a free,” Rick shrugged. “They hang out behind Tech on break.”

The two made their way downstairs and out of the main school building. The Technology Department was separate and housed all of the design and technology classrooms and workshops that the school operated. Behind it, was a slim section of parking lot that was often home to the smokers, dopeheads, and less sociable members of the student body.

It was here that they found Peter Umbridge selling cigarettes to a knot of lower-classmen. He was exactly where they had been informed; by the dumpsters at the rear of the Tech department. On seeing the two football players, the smarter of the little shits vanished like cockroaches exposed to a naked flame.

“Why are you scaring off my customers? Can’t you guys find anything better to do?” Smeared Umbridge.

“We want a word with you, alone,” Rob remarked, eying the few remaining younglings that were either too stupid or too brave for their own good.

“I’m busy,” Umbridge shrugged, taking cash from what looked like a Freshman.

Rick took the bag off Umbridge’s shoulder and hurled it into one of the dumpsters.

“Hey, what the hell man?” Umbridge protested, balling his fists.

Before he could react, Rob pinned him against the metal wall with a dull clang. “You were on South 2nd after History today, who fucked with my little brother?”

“I wasn’t,” Umbridge croaked around Winter’s forearm. “I swear.”

“You were,” Rick pointed out dryly. “You’re in the same class and you were telling Nate about seeing the attack. Tell us what we want to know or you join your produce.”

“I… uh… oh, you mean? That was a misunderstanding,” he croaked desperately, wriggling against the immovable force holding him in place. “Really, nobody meant nothing bad, he slipped.”

“Who?” Rob snarled, squeezing tighter.

Umbridge grabbed at Rob’s hand and kicked his feet in a feeble attempt to try to break free. After a moment’s struggle, he relaxed and let his head drop. “Fine, it was Nial. He was, well… and I’m quoting him directly, right? He said ‘The little faggot had it coming for swishing about like that.”

“Nial Peters?” Rob confirmed. “Nial Peters from the swim team?”

“Uhuh, yeah, Nial Peters,” Umbridge admitted with a nervous grin. “I promise, it was him, I saw it all.”

Rob released the sniveling toad and let him slump back against the filthy dumpster. “If you lied to me, I will flatten you, fuckstain.”

“It’s the truth, I promise,” Umbridge begged.

Rick elbowed the guy as he passed, “Go fishing for your bag, dickhead.”

It had taken all the skill and self-control that Rick could muster to not overreact at lunchtime. Holly had acted as though nothing was different, despite the growing bruise on her cheek. She had dismissed it as a clumsy fall and as much as he wanted to refuse her claim, he knew it was most likely for the best.

He wanted to coddle her, to get angry and protect her, but he knew that at school he had to maintain his distance for her sake. It didn’t mean that he and Rob couldn’t solve the problem their own way. He might not be able to protect her outwardly, but he could make sure that the asshole was punished for laying a finger on her.

He found Rob shortly after their lunch and the pair quietly left school grounds. They made for the parking lot where students parked their cars with a single focus; Nial and the other swim team members would regularly leave school and go to a diner a few blocks away for lunch. It wasn’t what they were meant to do, but the school usually overlooked it for the seniors. Especially seniors on sports teams.

Taking Rob’s car, they were soon parked in the lot across from the eatery to wait for their intended target.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Rob offered, glancing across at his teammate.

“You didn’t need to ask dude.”

“I know, and that’s what I mean,” Rob pointed out. “Thanks.”

Rick shrugged but didn’t take his eyes off the door to the diner. “It’s the right thing to do.”

“We haven’t really talked… about you and my sister.” Rob prompted.

Rick glanced over and felt suddenly uncomfortable. “You don’t approve?”

Rob rolled his shoulders and shook his head. “It’s not that I don’t approve, I just… can I be honest?”

“I’d prefer it.”

“I only just got to know her; my baby sister… Shit, I can’t think of her any other way; no matter how much I try. She’s important to me and I’ve always looked out for her. I know how bad things have been for her over the years, but I never knew what she was dealing with inside. I’m terrified of what will come next semester when it’s all out there, I just know I’ll be there beside her.”

Rick simply nodded, with little to add to his teammate’s thoughts.

Rob looked across at his sister’s boyfriend and fixed him with a stern look. “You’re really important to her and I think you’re a good dude. You’re there for her, even with… all of this crap. Will you still be there in January?”

“I will,” Rick replied quietly. “I’m not going anywhere. I love her; nothing is going to change that.”

Rob nodded, “Good. Then it‘s up to both of us to protect her. She can’t know about what happens here, but you already know that, don’t you?”

The door to the diner opened and a knot of swimmers came walking out, laughing together about something irrelevant. Rick didn’t look away from them as he opened the car door. “Less talk, more action.”

“Peters!” Rob growled, slamming the door behind him as he strode forward.

The taller of the four guys looked over, his confusion turning to recognition as he spotted Rob. “Winters? What are you doing over here?”

“Looking for the shitstain that thinks it’s cool to hurt my…brother.”

Nial Peters's expression changed from mild curiosity to mirth. “Oh, your little faggy brother? Might want to keep that queer on a leash then.”

“I think you’d better watch your tone,” Rick offered, carefully eying the other swimmers with Peters. The three guys were all equally tall and broad-shouldered in that classic swimmer’s physique, possessing a wirey strength, and looked ready to use it. The advantage here was that they were outweighed by himself and Rob by a good 50 pounds a piece.

“I’ll say what I want, Taylor,” Peters snapped. “Why are you here fighting Winter’s battles for him?”

“Because I can’t stand bullies,” Rick shrugged. “You three can leave, we need a word with your buddy.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” one of the shorter guys shrugged. “You want to start something?”

The other two looked momentarily hesitant, as if judging their chances of success against the two football players. Both seemed to reluctantly pick and squared up alongside their friends.

“I want to finish something,” Rob growled. “Teach your friend some manners.”

“You want to fuck the little faggot, is that it, Taylor?” Nial chuckled. “Stick with the team a little longer, I’m sure you’ll get your turn with Alex once he’s done with the seniors.”

There were no further words as Rob dumped Nial Peters on the asphalt of the parking lot, scattering his cronies like bowling pins in the process. At almost the same time, Rick laid out the talkative friend with a single right hook to the jaw.

Rolling on the ground, Nial Peters managed to land a few good hits to Rob’s ribs as they grappled but with a twist, he managed to kick the guy upward and throw him off to one side.

“Fuck you, asshole,” he snarled, driving his left fist into the swimmer’s gut as he blocked his telegraphed right.

Nial doubled over and was defenseless when Rob kneed him in the head, sending the boy sprawling backward onto the asphalt, his nose streaming blood. “Leave my si… leave Alex alone, do you hear me?” he roared.

Nial held his hands up and nodded, “Yeah, shit, I’m sorry dude.”

Rob grabbed a fist full of collar and leaned in. “You touch h…im or hear of anyone else doing it without you stopping them or telling me and I will kill you. Do you understand me, asshole?”

“Yeah, I… I do.” Nial grimaced, rubbing the blood from his nose.

Rick dropped the second idiot on the ground before the third retreated rapidly, conceding the fight unchallenged. He looked across at Rob who gave him a nod.

Rick walked across and looked down at the far less intimidating and talkative Nial Peters. Without pausing, he kicked him swiftly in the ribs, causing the boy to curl up in pain. “Have a nice day, dickhead.”

Rob took his arm and pointed at the diner windows, slowly filling with curious onlookers. “Time to go.”

Rick nodded, spitting on the prostate bully before turning to follow Winters back toward his ride. The pair departed before the swim team members had even dragged themselves up off the asphalt and they were a block away before either said a word.

“Thanks,” Rob offered quietly as they drove back toward the school campus.

“I got you, dude,” Rick replied, flexing his grazed knuckles.

Rob smiled to himself; there was no way that Nial Peters or any of his friends would ever touch his sister again. They wouldn’t be the only ones, but for now, it would stem the tide. What came in January was another story. One he felt powerless to prevent.

Rick had risen significantly in his expectations. The guy was a good teammate and clearly cared for his sister a great deal. He hadn’t blinked when Rob had suggested punishing those responsible and he could clearly take care of himself in a fight. He hadn’t been ignorant of the two guys that Rick had taken on alone.

If Holly insisted on dating anyone, he reasoned, at least it was a guy with honor. He was still coming to terms with the basic concept of his sister having a romantic interest in anyone at all; he just didn’t see his younger sibling that way. Perhaps, he supposed, that was more the life of Alex.

Holly was different; she was so much more than his little brother had ever been. So much more alive, full of love and life. He would get used to it, he knew; he was pretty sure she wouldn’t give him a choice anyway. He felt glad that this guy would stand up for her if it came to it; what more could a brother ask?

 

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

 

 

“Do you want to come over and watch a movie this weekend?”

I look up from my books and raise an eyebrow at the lump of boyhood disturbing my homework session that Tuesday in the library.

I’ve been back at school a week since Taytlorgate and our relationship has managed to survive going to school together so far. It’s been a little awkward at times, especially when he wants to express affection if we’re alone. For him, all he sees is Holly cosplaying as a boy, so he doesn’t care. Me? It’s my brain worms and social hangups at play. It leaves me feeling weird about being in ‘boy mode’ and interacting with him that way. Screw it; I’ll survive, I guess. The less said about West’s the better.

“Just a movie, huh?”

Rick grins down at me and shrugs. I might not have a ton of experience as a girl, but I’m pretty sure that as a teen boy, he’s got bigger plans than cinematic appreciation. Then again, I’m a teenage girl and we are not exempt, we just like some warning.

“Maybe,” he grins shyly, “if you want to?”

I find it adorable that this big, gorgeous, intelligent guy is acting nervous and shy around me; it’s so sweet. I give him a little smile, “I’d like that.”

“Whatcha doing?” He asks dropping into the seat next to mine. I realize suddenly that arranging a date isn’t his entire plan and my homework will sadly be getting done at home.

I show him the textbook cover, “Finishing Geography so I don’t have to take it home with me.”

“Want a ride?”

“Sure,” I roll my eyes. “You broke my concentration anyway.”

School is starting to let out as we make our way toward the parking lot. Walking with Rick still feels a little awkward, and I’m not particularly talkative. I know that to all the world we appear no different than before; just the unlikely friendship of a nerdy runt and a football hero, but inside, I’m just terrified they can see through the flimsy disguise that I put up. I'm sure they can see how much I like him.

Fear had been such a controlling factor in my life that shutting it down was incredibly difficult. I know that most people wouldn’t begin to think that we were dating, but I dreaded them making the assumption. It took a great deal of strength to resist the urge to reach out for his fingers whenever his hand brushed near, or to kiss him whenever he smiled at me.

To me, that relationship was an equal part of the Alex disguise that I wore at school. Rick didn’t date Alex; he was dating Holly. I know how bipolar that sounds, but it helped me to separate the two personalities and keep things in one piece as my divergent lives progressed. Alex was still the loner; still the single depressed nerdy kid that was somehow friends with the popular jock. A terrible tired trope, I know, but nobody seemed any the wiser.

Once safely in the cab of Rick’s truck, I cast off as much of my Alex costume as possible while remaining decent and stole his sweatshirt. It was massive on me and it smelled of him; perfect combination in my eyes. It seems stupid, but I felt a lot better like this. Even in this halfway house, I was more Holly than Alex and in my head, I could be his girlfriend now. Now, I wasn’t reminding him that I had been born a boy.

I’m curled up in the passenger seat of the truck, watching Rick as we drive. He’s listening to music on the stereo and watching the traffic ahead. I don’t think that he’s aware that I’m studying him so intently. I gaze at the lips that have kissed me and the hands that have held me and feel my tummy flutter. Who would have possibly imagined that my wildest dreams might actually come true?

“What are you thinking about?”

“Huh?”

Rick glances over as he drives and nods in my direction. “You; you’ve got this super intense look on your face. Don’t get me wrong, it’s cute as hell, but you look like you’re deep in thought.”

Ok, I’ve never been called cute before, but I could totally get used to it. I do turn a little red, but I catch myself pretty quickly. “Just life, I guess. Getting used to the new normal.”

Rick nods to himself, “I can understand that; you’ve got a lot going on and it’s bound to weigh heavy on you. It’s not long until we break up for the holidays though, right?”

“Four weeks left,” I sigh. “Three, if you don’t count the trip.”

A strong hand reaches over and squeezes my shoulder. “You got this,” he murmurs. “Four weeks, and it’s all over.”

“I still can’t wrap my head around how you’re so good with all of this,” I sigh. “Every day at school, you’re reminded of what I really am. This… us, it might be a secret for now, but once I come back to school it will be all out in the open. If you still want to be with me, they’ll come for you too. I don’t think you’re quite prepared for what that means. You see what they do to me when they have no idea.”

Rick looks across and his hand reaches down and grasps my own. God, my hand looks so small in his; so delicate. Holding his hand makes my heart clench, why the hell do I work so hard to push him back, to remind him what I am?

“I’ll tell you a million times, Holly,” he asserts firmly. “I don’t give a good goddamn what anyone else thinks. Hell, the only reason I don’t show how much you mean to me in school is because you don’t want me to. Fuck them, who gives a shit?”

I gaze out of the window and watch the traffic flow past for a moment in silence. “I’m not embarrassed.”

“I know you’re not.”

“I don’t act like it,” I murmur.

“I get it,” he admits. “You might not think I do, but I got a fair idea. You, Holly Winters are my girlfriend. That Alex kid? while he’s a good friend, we’re not dating. He’s just a front you put on to keep people at bay until you’re out of this place.”

“Pretty astute,” I smile/

“Do you remember what I said the other week? That all I see is a girl playing dress up? A girl in a costume? Yeah, well I figure a costume can’t date, so why would Alex date anyone?”

Surprisingly he’s hit the nail entirely on the head. Why does he have to be so… logical?

“Basically,” I concede. “I’m sorry for being weird about stuff.”

Rick laughs, “Mom always told me to listen to a girl and make damn sure I understand what she’s saying before I open my mouth if I want a happy life.”

I screw my face up and give him a dirty look. I want to give him a slap for a remark like that, but It’s also one of the most damn affirming things anyone’s ever said to me; I guess he skates on this one.

Fifteen minutes later, we rolled to a stop outside my house. He’s all forgiven now and I’m snuggled up beside him on the front bench. If you’ve never had that experience, trust me, it’s very high on the contentment list. Reluctantly, I detangle myself and get ready to head inside.

“So, you’re coming over this weekend right?” Rick asks, looking a little uncertain. God, I cannot fathom how Mister Confident is always so shy where I’m concerned, almost as if he’s afraid I’ll say no; like that would happen!

I nod, reluctantly grabbing my bag and belongings. “Sure, Rick, I’d love to.”

He smiles and pulls me in for a kiss that curls my toes like the binding on my notebook. After a few heavenly moments, I reluctantly pull back and straighten myself up. Mom will kill me if I spend the evening making out in full view of the neighbors, regardless of gender.

Rick gives me a happy little grin and he looks so boyishly handsome right there I almost feel willing to defy my Mother. “Look, I don’t know if you guys are doing anything for Thanksgiving, but… I thought maybe I could invite you over. I want you to, obviously,” he stumbles. “Mom asked me to ask as well.”

“I don’t think we’ve got any plans,” I shrug. “Chrissie is home for the week, but that’s it.”

“Come over to ours and celebrate with my parents, it’s just going to be the three of us.”

Meet the parents… do the whole family thing, sure I already met the parents, but formally? Oh god, they also think I’m called Alex. Oh boy, I’m not done with the critical comings out, am I?

“I think I need to talk to your Mom first,” I reply hesitantly. “You know, the whole Alex and Holly thing might be a little relevant.”

“That’s not her problem,” Rick shrugs.

“Isn’t she going to wonder why your tomboy girlfriend, Alex, suddenly became a girly girl called Holly?”

Rick frowns, “I didn’t really think about that. Yeah, maybe you should. I could talk to her if you want me to?”

I shake my head, “No. That’s for me to do, but thank you. I think I need to talk to her woman to woman; she’d probably appreciate it more.”

“Knowing my Mom, yeah, she would,” he admits with a chuckle. “Though, if you get her on side, Dad won’t be a problem. He does whatever she says.”

I smile, I know my Dad is exactly the same way. Don't get me wrong, he’s not whipped or weak, but he loves Mom and they see eye to eye on most things. It’s a partnership and not a power dynamic. If one of them makes a call, they both respect it because they know how the other thinks. Can I handle this? Can I come out to Rick’s parents?

I’m going to have to do it eventually, whether I want to or not. The big unknown will be whether it blows up in my face or not. His parents seem nice, but that doesn’t exactly account for diddly squat when it comes to the big T topic. It can turn the nicest people into utter monsters that can’t stand the look of you.

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more.

 

 

I drove the racket hard, throwing all of my energy behind the strike. The projectile screamed across the court like a ballistic… is this too much? Yeah, I was playing Badminton, I wanted to make it sound far more exciting than it actually was. Sexing up any game with a piece called a shuttlecock is unsurprisingly rather difficult.

My epic drive was easily returned by Megan and our volley lasted a surprisingly long time before we finally conceded the point, the final one of the game. Obviously, I was extremely disappointed as I’m pretty sure I was meant to win, biological advantage, right?

“Good game guys,” Tina called, drowning herself in her water bottle. “I’m freaking done.”

“That was a really long game,” Meg agreed, wrapping her towel around her neck. “Showers and home?”

“Not rushing off to text my brother?” I teased, dodging a towel whip with a giggle.

It’s been three weeks since Holly first made an appearance here at the Gym and I’ve thankfully lost a lot of the anxiety that I had over being recognized. In total trans stereotype, I do a quick superhero change in a gas station bathroom down the road and spend the rest of my afternoons as Holly. Once I’m out of the hated suit, I’m able to come and go without anyone noticing anything wrong.

I pluck at my sweaty tank top and make a face, “Yeah, I think I’m in need of a good shower too.”

Yeah, I’ve gotten over that as well. Other than keeping my underwear on to prevent any mishaps, I’m pretty sure now that I’ve nothing that would worry anyone in the changing rooms. It doesn’t mean I walk around topless or anything, but I’m more than comfortable changing. It’s weird how you mentally adjust, isn’t it?

We make our way back in from the courts and head for the locker rooms. This has rapidly become one of my favorite times of the week. I get to hang out with my friends and be taken as exactly what I am; Holly, a girl. It’s funny how you start to enjoy life more when it’s the right one, finally.

I’m not sure how I feel about Tina. She’s a great girl and I really like her perky, oddball personality. It feels a little unfair that both Megan and Kara know about me, but Tina doesn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a proponent of telling everyone I’m trans or anything daft like that, but with this being such a major part of my life currently, I feel like I’m lying to her, which I am.

I do in fact go to the same school, but not the same division. I am having to actively conceal that I got to school still as Alex. Hiding is hard work, and it wears you out having to keep your guard up constantly.

Sure, all these delightful trans-fictions make it seem so very easy; the protagonist passes as female, nay, she fails to pass as male most of the time. That means that when presenting as female, it’s easy right? Wrong.

There’s stuff you can’t talk about around those who don’t know about you, and you have to actively conceal who you go to places with. Most of your time is made up ensuring that people don’t make the connection or find out and it’s quite exhausting. As comfortable as I’m feeling now that I get to be myself that I have at least one friend who has no idea about Alex, and it’s tough to balance the two.

Sorry, a boringly realistic moment there where I have to remind you that even in the best of circumstances and a dream situation for some, it has its risks and difficulties. Yeah, that’s me, the Grinch of trans drama, sorry not sorry.

I step out of the shower and wrap myself in a towel before heading back to the locker room. I’ve already pulled on dry underwear, so I’m not particularly worried about being detected. Lil Alex isn’t much in the grand scheme of things and taking care of that is… not something I’m going to describe here. It’s safe to say he doesn’t make an appearance.

Finding my locker, I grab my gym bag and pull out my clothes before starting to get dressed. Today, that’s Jeans, nice ankle boots, and a cute top and jacket. The temperature has fallen somewhat, so It's starting to really feel like the approach of winter. Out here, that rarely drops below the low sixties, but that’s pretty cold for us!

“You guys doing anything for Thanksgiving?” Meg asks as she dries off her hair.

“Grandparents, in San Diego,” Tina shrugs. “A Long ass road trip and big arguments; I can’t wait.”

“We’re just staying home like always,” Megan shrugs. “Mostly lots of rels coming over and Gary annoying everyone. What about you Hol, any plans this year, considering?”

“Considering what?” Tina asks raising an eyebrow.

“Considering her sister is home from college finally, she’s not seen her in months,” Kara interjects, eying her sister. “Right?”

“That, I guess,” I concede, “although my boyfriend did just invite us all over to his parent's place for the holiday so… I’m considering it.”

“Wait, he did?” she balks, “Like that’s a big step right?”

“I guess, but I think I want to talk to his Mom first,” I offer cryptically, making an eye gesture. “Make sure she’s cool with the five of us, you know?”

“Right,” Kara agrees catching my point. “That’s probably a really good idea for place settings and stuff.”

Tina eyes us curiously but remains quiet. I’m positive she’s unaware of the reality of that conversation, but at the same time, I hate having to use code in front of my friends. This split life crap is exhausting and I want it to be over.

Megan joins me in the bathrooms where I’m fixing my face before we leave. “What did your parents say about you getting your ass kicked?”

What? You thought I wouldn’t tell them about that?

I sighed and shrugged at my reflection as I applied mascara. “They weren’t pleased, but what can they really do? They already laid down the law with the school and it’s easier to just avoid drama till I’m done. Nobody knows the truth, so it’s best if it just stays that way.”

“What truth?”

I jump as Tina appears behind me with makeup bag in hand. She has a quizzical expression on her face.

Megan points at my cheek, “She got in a fight at school and her parents lost their shit.”

Tina’s frown lessens and she nods, “That why you’re transferring?”

“Yeah,” I shrug. “I just… don’t belong there.”

“Wild,” she shrugs and takes up a mirror next to me. “You seem alright to me, even if you are friends with these two.”

“I can hear, you know.” Megan huffs.

Tina chuckled darkly, “That was the point. “Seriously though, you seem like a great girl. Who hit you?”

“Just some asshole,” I sigh. “They think it’s hilarious to pick on me.”

Tina turns to me and touches my arm. “You mean to tell me some guy did this to you? And the school did nothing? You got beaten up by a boy and that’s avoiding drama?”

Shit, that does make things a bit weird to explain. I decide to go for a new angle. “Uh, I got…” I do my best to look dejected. “I really don’t like talking about it; some bad stuff, you know?”

Tina smiles sympathetically and gives me a sideways half-hug. “I get it, I won’t pry, but that sucks. Roll on January, huh?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Indeed.”

 

 

The bus dropped me on the quiet main street of Johnson Creek a little after five that evening. Back when I first saw the place, I thought it a dreary and dead little strip of nothing, but now it seemed a little more quaint and idyllic. I would still struggle to want to live here, but it certainly looked a lot more welcoming than I remembered.

I was casually dressed, but very much Holly this time. I was wearing an ankle-length black denim skirt with a warm pair of cozy tights and a white long-sleeved T-shirt. Coupled with my ankle boots and a cute grey wool coat, I felt comfortable yet casually stylish. Probably not country-appropriate, but I am, after all, a city girl.

There was no game tonight, but the coach had still kept the team back for extra practice. That meant that I had extra time to head home and make myself pretty before catching the bus out here to wait for Rick to come through on his way home; all perfectly timed.

What, you thought I’d ask my dad to take his new daughter out to her boyfriend’s place this soon into the gig? Do you think I’m crazy? I know he accepts me, but I’m a little reluctant to force this element down his throat too quickly. I love my father, but after the earful I got for being bullied by boys, kissing them might be a hill too far.

The truth of the matter is that I had not originally planned to even bring dating into the picture until very much later, once everyone became more settled with the idea of Holly the girl. When do any of my plans ever work out as intended, you ask? Mom had sussed me pretty quickly but seemed more than comfortable with the idea. Rob and Dad? I was taking things a bit more slowly. Boys can get weird and I didn’t want to make them uncomfortable.

It was for that very reason that I planned to handle tonight the way I did, but could I even manage that the way I wanted to? Of course not.

“Alex? Is that you honey?”

Guh?

I glance up from my thoughts and spot the one and only, Mrs Taylor, coming out of the grocery store with arms full of bags.

Without thinking I hopped up from my perch on a low railing and rushed over to grab a bag to ease her load. What can I say? Perpetually helpful sort, that’s me.

“I know Ricky said you were coming over tonight but he hadn’t said you’d be waiting out here on your own honey. How long did that boy say he would be?”

“Uh,” I checked my watch. “Thirty minutes, Ma’am.”

“It’s Rebecca, remember?” she chides playfully. “I won’t have any Ma’am’s or Mrs Taylor’s, do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’... Rebecca.” I grinned. “I had no idea you were going to be out here.”

“I just popped in for some bits and pieces for dinner,” she shrugged as we walked over to the BMW I had seen parked in their yard. She popped the trunk and started depositing her bags. “Did my son tell you to wait out here all on your own for him? For shame, I’ll be having words with that boy when I get home,” she frowned.

“It was my idea, honestly,” I replied quickly. “I told him that I would take the bus rather than wait for his practice to be over.” I offered, hoping to protect Rick from a maternal beating. “I didn’t mind waiting, honestly.”

“Still,” she wagged a finger. “A gentleman would have timed it so that he was waiting to collect you. Rick should be a proper gentleman, especially leaving a lovely young thing like you sitting around in the middle of nowhere.”

I didn’t reply, I wasn’t sure I was going to convince his Mom that I was totally cool with this arrangement. Rebecca instead offered me a ride back to the ranch with her to wait in their home, rather than out her by the side of the road. Who am I to argue? Well, that was my mistake.

For the record, Rebecca Taylor drives like a harpie with a firecracker up her butt. Within two blocks I was hanging onto the edge of my seat with a death grip as she flung the European sedan out of town and onto the main road. What had been a fifteen-minute drive with Rick behind the wheel of his truck, was barely ten with Rebecca Waltrip up on the wheel.

“Best let that son of mine know to come straight home,” Rebecca ordered, pulling into the yard beside their home with a spray of gravel as she shut off the engine. “You can come on in and give me a hand with all this before they get home if you like.”

Well, that was me told. I fired off a quick text to Rick and grabbed a bag before following his mother into the house. Who knew that Rick’s Mom and my own had so very much in common?

I dropped the groceries on the counter and stood patiently, waiting for Mrs Taylor to give me an instruction. She seemed like a nice woman from the few times we had met, but I truly didn’t know her that well.

Admittedly, the first time we met, I was convinced that she saw me as Alex, a male friend of her son, however, time and context clues made me realize that she saw me as not just a girl, but the presumptive girlfriend of her son. The second time, I absolutely knew she saw me as her son’s romantic interest.

Here we are in her kitchen, unpacking groceries before I spend the evening watching movies with her son. It’s all so very domestic, and yet, I’m practically shaking, knowing what I have to tell her.

“What’s got you all tied up honey?”

“Hmm?” I murmur intelligently. “I’m sorry, I was caught in my head.”

“I noticed, Hon,” Mrs Taylor chuckled softly as she began washing vegetables. “Anything I can help with?”

Well, this would be the time, wouldn’t it? I have two things to break to her, and neither is ideal.

“Rick invited my family and me to your Thanksgiving celebration this year Ma…Rebecca. I want to tell you I’m really honored by the offer…”

“It’s ok if you’ve already got plans,” she shrugged. “I just wanted to extend the offer, what with you and Rick being a couple. It would be lovely to spend some more time together and meet your parents.”

“We only recently became a couple,” I admit. “We were friends for quite a while.”

Rebecca smiles at me. “You might have thought that you were just friends honey, but I could see it the first time you came over here. You and Rick had a real connection; those are rare.”

Ugh, now I feel pretty awful about what I have to say because she’s so very nice, and right.

“I’m afraid I cannot accept the invitation. It’s not because we have plans, but because It wouldn’t be right of me, Ma’am.”

Rebecca Taylor dries her hands and turns to face me with a curious expression on her face. “And why would that be?”

Le gulp.

“I um, my name isn’t really Alex… well it is, um but…”

Rebecca crossed the kitchen and took my hands in hers. “It’s ok, sweetheart, you can talk to me, what’s going on?”

“I didn’t mean to lie to you, I… it wasn’t meant to happen like this. It wasn’t meant to happen at all... When I was here the first time, youkindaassumedandIddidn’twanttocorrectyou.”

“Slow down sugar, it’s alright, what did I assume?”

“That I, um, that I was a girl.”

“You’re not?” She raised an eyebrow. “You look like one to me.”

“I’m, ah…” My mouth is dry and this feels worse than telling my parents. At least the telling part was taken out of my hands. Plus I’m pretty sure this woman could bury me in the hills and nobody would ever know, if she wanted to.

“I’m transgender,” I practically whisper, staring at the floor. “I’m… I wasn’t born like this.”

Rebecca inclined her head and seemed to look at me more carefully. “I like to think I’m a pretty smart woman, but you have me a little confused honey. Is that why you were wearing boys' clothes last time you were here and hiding your breasts?”

I nod slowly and cautiously. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“I see, and Rick knows about this?”

“He does Ma’am.”

“It’s Rebecca, honey, I told you.” she pauses and frowns. “I don’t pretend to understand, but if you want to be a boy, why are you wearing a skirt now? Not that you don’t look pre… I probably shouldn’t say that.”

“I….”

Wait a second.

“Want to be a boy?”

Mrs Taylor slaps herself on the leg and sighs. “Oh gosh, I must have really offended you by offering you my Anna’s things after you ended up in the creek, I’m sorry.”

The penny finally drops and I realize what she’s thinking.

“Oh, gosh no! No, I want to be a girl… well, I am one, I mean, I should be one.”

Rebecca Taylor’s face goes through a few quick emotions as she processes what I’m telling her. I’m almost starting to get used to the mental gymnastics people do when I explain what I am to them, I think it hurts their brains.

Finally, she reaches a decision and smiles kindly. “I think I’m going to make us some coffee and you’re going to explain this whole thing to me from the beginning.”

Oh boy, did I start from the beginning…

Sitting in the family room with Rick’s Mom, I laid it all out to her as plain as day. Every moment, from my first knowledge of my sense of gender to the present moment sitting there in her home. I admit, I spent most of the time hoping that she wasn’t going to leave my corpse in the hills but I’m being overdramatic. It was evident fairly quickly that she wasn’t deathly afraid of the cursed creature before her and was more than willing to hear me out.

“So that first time… you were just friends and even he… really? He didn’t see it?”

“People who knew Alex always tended to see Alex, despite the obvious reality. Anyone who didn’t know me, well they saw more of Holly.” I admit.

“I saw a whole lot of Holly when I came bursting into the bathroom,” Rebecca chuckled. “My gosh, I must have given you a real fright, honey.”

“I appreciated the dry clothes, but it did make me panic a little.”

“You two made a cute couple, even then,” Rebecca smiles warmly. “I was telling my Tom later that night that you two riding in across the pasture reminded me of when we first started dating ourselves.”

I hesitate for a moment. “So, you don’t mind me and Rick seeing each other, considering everything you know now?”

Rebecca stood and came over before sitting down beside me on the sofa. She picked up my hands in hers and smiled reassuringly. “Holly, I may not fully understand the how or the why you find yourself in this situation, but I would have to be blind and dumb to see you as anything but an intelligent and pretty young woman. My son would be lucky to have a woman like you.”

And just like that, I burst into tears. Big fat ugly tears of relief, happiness, and shame. Having someone accept you and truly see you as your real authentic self is an emotional floodgate. All the tension and stress I’d held about Rick and his family came flooding out like the Rhur Valley in the 1940s.

It was in this sobbing state that Rick found me in a short while later. I looked up from my tissues and spotted him loitering by the door looking too terrified to step into the room, lest he was struck down with a violent case of the feels.

“How long,” *sniff* “have you been there?” I ask croakily.

“Uh, a few minutes, are you guys ok?” he asked hesitantly, glancing between myself and his mother.

“We’re fine honey,” his Mother replied. “Go pop the oven on for me, would you?”

Rick gave me an uncertain look before my smile reassured him enough for him to leave. Behind me, Rebecca chuckled softly.

“What?”

“You saw that, didn’t you?”

“I don’t follow,” I frown.

“I told him to turn the oven on and he waited for you to tell him you were ok before he left. That’s love, sweetheart.”

I couldn’t help but smile; the thought made my heart lurch with that happy squiggle it does. “I love him too,” I admit, finally realizing it. “He’s been so kind, so caring. Above all else, he gave a damn about me when nobody else did.”

Rebecca smiled and squeezed my shoulder. “Go upstairs and fix your face, honey, then you can join me in the kitchen, ok?”

 

 

Makeup is a miracle, because when I came back down to join the Taylors for dinner, it was far less obvious that I had been sobbing on their sofa only fifteen minutes prior. Of course, Rick treated me like I was made of fine china the entire time, but I can’t blame the boy for caring.

Both Rebecca and her husband Tom were great people, and for the first time, I felt truly relaxed sitting there at the table with them. Unlike my own family who, let’s be real, had a whole familial stake in my existence, they did not. To know that Rebecca had given me her blessing and her acceptance helped to wash away a great deal of my nerves.

After dinner, Rick’s parents beat an expedient yet polite retreat, leaving the two of us to watch our movie in peace. It was funny, I‘m pretty sure I can still remember us making out on this very sofa only a couple of weeks ago, but now, I suddenly feel like a bundle of nerves.

Rick dropped down beside me with a bowl of popcorn and flipped on the TV. I had left a little room between us, and I wasn’t entirely sure how to go about doing the whole casual romance thing.

Rick glanced over and slid up the sofa until he was beside me. “Is this ok?”

I nodded nervously. “Sure.”

“Would it be ok if I put my arm around you?” He asks uncertainly. “I don’t want to, like, assume or anything.”

I gave him a reassuring smile and slid closer until we were just about touching. His body felt incredibly warm against my side and my heart was thumping within my chest. When he placed his arm around my shoulders and snugged me in beside him, the butterflies in my stomach lept.

Look, I know this isn’t the first time we did anything romantic, but it’s the first time we did it intentionally knowing that more would come from it. To me, a girl who has literally no romantic experience and is still working out how she ought to respond to a boy, that’s very different to spontaneous shenanigans.

“Are you ok?” Rick asks as the movie starts playing. “You’re shaking.”

For the first time, I realize that I am. I’m a huge knotted-up bundle of nerves and I have no idea why. Trust me to fuck up cuddling on the sofa, right?

“I just don’t want to do anything wrong, you know? You’re the first boy I’ve ever been close to like this,” I admit shyly, blushing furiously.

Rick squeezes me and leans down before gently kissing the top of my head. “I won’t push you to do anything, but I do like this.”

Just admitting that I’m nervous seems to have dispelled quite a few of them. “It’s not bad,” I concede with a little smile.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Rick asks, his fingertips playing with my hair in a way that makes me almost shiver with sensation.

“Sure.”

“This is the first time I’ve done this too.”

I turn and look at him properly. “What do you mean?”

“You’re my first girlfriend and… I guess the first girl that I kissed.”

“I don’t really believe that, you must have.” I insist. “Right?”

Rick shakes his head and blushes himself. “No, honestly, it’s the truth. Remember how I told you I only really became popular this last year or two? That and being in all boys' school somewhat stunts your opportunities to mix.”

I grinned slyly, “What are the chances huh? You found the one girl in the entire place.”

“Yeah, I lucked out there, didn’t I?” he replies, lifting my chin with a finger. “Want to help me practice?”

My heart skips a beat. Ok, so I know that’s not what happens but it sounds so deliciously romantic. It’s far more reader-friendly than discussing the relative behavior of adrenaline and endocrine responses to emotional stimuli, but I digress.

I cannot find words at the moment, but I just about manage to nod my agreement. Slowly, Rick turns his body towards me and lowers his face to my own. I close my eyes as our lips meet and it feels as wonderful as every other time before. Now, however, I don’t feel quite as shy anymore.

We kissed tentatively for a few moments, exploring each other’s lips. The sensations are heady and exotic, taking me to a new world of sensation. While I’m certainly no expert myself, mister first girlfriend is doing a fine job, he must be a natural talent.

After a few moments, I feel Rick’s hands come around and grasp me by the torso. His hands feel huge as they hold onto me as firmly as a rock. For a brief moment, my memory flashes back to him catching me on the sidewalk when I slipped. Yeah, it really does feel as good as I had imagined it might.

I feel a hand slide down and gently squeeze my butt. It’s a new sensation but not entirely an unwelcome one. In response, I nibble at Rick’s lip, which seems to excite him even further.
“Holly,” he growls, “God, you’re hot.”

I feel myself roll and slide until I’m lying underneath him on the sofa, his body above me as we embrace. Right now, literally and emotionally, he’s my entire world and I could want for nothing at all. I reach up and pull my top off, casting it aside with abandon. Feeling his hands on my bare skin feels like delicious electric shocks.

I’m starting to feel extremely worked up in a way I have never experienced before. My body exerts an unexplainable yearning, a demand for more. As someone who grew up, isolated from sexual desire and feeling, it was both terrifying and intoxicating.

With a little shyness, I guided Rick’s hands to my chest and gasped as I felt his gentle touch on my breasts. The sensation was unusual but extremely pleasurable, somewhere in my head, my brain was screaming for more though. Reaching up, I pull one of the straps off my shoulder and slowly take his hand.

Rick looked nervous, almost terrified as I encouraged his fingers into my bra and onto the bare flesh of my left breast. After he became accustomed to the touch, I felt his fingers graze against my erect nipple. The sensation is like an electric jolt that runs down the length of my spine to somewhere within my abdomen.

Somehow, this moment feels like the most important exchange of our nascent relationship. In the back of my mind, I know how I was born, and I know how the world sees me. I know what I have downstairs, and I have no intention of ever using that thing for evil. Right now, however, my boyfriend has his hand on my breast, my very female, organically grown, farm-to-table, breast.

I could ruin this moment with the sociology of secondary sexual characteristics and their intrinsic meaning to us as human beings. All that I care about is that my breast is in the hand of a boy who sees me as his girlfriend; this moment, to me, feels like a confirmation that I am woman enough for him. My proof is evident, even if I am imperfect.

I never said my shitty little warped brain was particularly logical, but in my hormone-ravaged mind, I was proving to RIck that I was a girl, that I wasn’t a fraud. That as much as I was broken, I could be enough. Trust me to overthink romance, huh?

We continued to fool around on the sofa until the movie was over. I never even really paid it any attention, so I can’t actually remember what it was that we watched. Funny that, huh? Thankfully, we managed to pull ourselves together and redress long before his parents reappeared.

We never ventured further than our above-the-waist explorations and for that,` I was somewhat glad. Sure, I’d had Rick’s hands on my butt through my skirt and mine had certainly been on his, but neither of us had ventured south in any meaningful way. At the moment, I wasn’t comfortable going there, and I wasn’t sure when I might be.

The idea of giving Rick pleasure was both a terrifying and intriguing prospect. Believe me, I’m a teenager, I’m well aware of the multitude of ways to work with that equipment; remember I got to an all-boys school, and they talk far too much.

The truth was, while I felt comfortable considering approaching that idea, I was afraid of him wanting more from me. Would I even be willing to consider… that? Sex? I had no idea what I was getting into regarding intimacy, but my hormone-charged heart was trying to lead my emotionally damaged brain. An imperfect girl and an imperfect body are an awful combination when her body and mind are raved by estrogen’s sweet grasp.

Her heart wants what it cannot have, and yet, her brain fights the neurosis and the shame of what she knows she really is. Romance and sex as a transgender girl are a layer of shame and embarrassment on top of teenage fears regarding sex.

I know some people hold no similar concerns and they live largely unashamed or concerned by their bodies and I do not mean to suggest that they are, in some way, imperfect. What I need you to understand is that I, Holly Winters, found my own body humiliating. The more feminine I appeared, the more it hurt to be this way. That imperfection burned my soul, and it left me carrying a great deal of shame that I desperately wished to overlook.

Why did I have to be transgender?

 

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Four - Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving, while it stems from the time of the pilgrims, really has a unique meaning to each and every family that celebrates it. I know for many, it means arguments and distant relatives. For my family, however, it was always a happy experience. Perhaps it was because we got on well with each other or because we weren’t a particularly large family. I know that unlike many, I always found it to be an exciting time of year. Obviously, this year I had a great deal to be thankful for, can you guess what? I digress.

I got out of the Gym on Wednesday afternoon and bid the girls a happy holiday before racing out to the parking lot to join Mom. Today was special; today I was going to meet my sister for the very first time in my (new) life.

I sound melodramatic, I’ve obviously met my sister Chrissie before. In its own way, this was as much a reunion as it was a first meeting as sisters. I remembered our games as kids; we would play with her fashion dolls and build vet’s surgeries and offices out of cardboard boxes, or the times we would host tea parties for her doll collection. I cherished those moments, but when Chrissie grew up, she became too cool to play with her little brother.

Over time, we grew apart, even as we remained close. In hindsight, I know it was the dawn of her puberty; her first period, her first bra. Chrissie became a young woman and it separated us. I could only hope that now I was following the same path it might bring us closer together once more.

We pulled into the short-stay parking lot at the airport and made our way into the arrivals lounge of the terminal. I’d be lying if I wasn’t extremely nervous about this meeting. Chrissie wasn’t home for long, not until Christmas, but our parents had got her a return flight so that she could be here; for all of us, it was a pretty special year.

“What time does her flight get in?” I asked, scanning the sea of passengers flowing out of baggage claim.

“Not for a little while,” Mom observed, reading the arrivals board above us. “Let’s get coffee, huh?”

We made our way over to one of the extremely overpriced coffee outlets in the terminal designed specifically to fleece waiting families out of their hard-earned Dollars. According to the board, we still had twenty minutes before Chrissie landed. Being a domestic flight and lacking check baggage, we’d probably see her in close to thirty or forty if TSA weren’t being particularly frisky today..

“Nervous?” Mom asks as we sit down with our beverages.

I make a face halfway between indigestion and uncertainty. “Yeah, I think so. I know she said she was cool when we spoke on the phone, but meeting her for the first time? Little scary.”

Mom smiles and nods, “It will be, but she does love you, honey. You’re going to get on just great, I promise, you’ll have no issue with Chrissie.”

“I hope so,” I sigh, watching the travelers passing by. “I’ve never been very thankful before. I’ve got a lot to be thankful for this year. I’d really love it if I could share that with my entire family.”

Mom smiles and squeezes my hand and we sit in companionable silence. I say silence, it’s an airport coffee shop. It’s packed and loud and honestly, not the place for a big deep discussion on childhood dysphoria, depression, or even the weather.

I’m pretty confident Chrissie will be awesome about everything. We had spoken on the phone a few times since my grand reveal and she was still the sister I remembered from so very long ago. I still had a little worry, but that’s brain worms for you. Not just residents of demented politicians dumping bear carcasses in public parks, but often residents of our own heads.

As the time approached, we made our way back out into the arrivals area and waited by the railing for Chrissie’s plane to unload. I had been a little torn about how to dress to meet my sister for the first time as my real self. A part of me wanted to dress down to ease the blow, but another told me that I ought to go over the top to assert my femininity; to prove that I really was a girl. Why can’t things be simple?

In the end, my solution was simple; fuck it. She’s going to love me no matter what, so be Holly and not anyone else. I don’t have anything left to prove and I shouldn’t start with my own sister. It was late November, so practicality had won out over fashion to a greater extent and I was wearing jeans, a pair of knee-high leather boots, and a chunky cream sweater under my coat. My hair was down but clipped back behind my ears with a pair of barrettes. I was wearing my usual fairly light makeup; some eyeliner, mascara, and a swipe of lip gloss. In all, I think I looked suitable for a little sister collecting her big sister from the airport.

Makeup was one thing that I was starting to have fun experimenting with. I was getting considerably better at it too, if I do say so myself. Practicing alone or with Kara and Meg had really upped my skills, although it still sometimes took Mother Dearest to bring me back down to earth. Look, I’m pretty sure every teenage girl gets told she looks like a hooker occasionally by her mother. Hindsight would prove her correct on more than one occasion. Sorry, Mom!

I caught sight of my sister before Mom as she exited baggage claim with the sea of warmly bundled passengers from her Chicago flight. Her Blonde hair was up in a messy bun and she was wearing jeans and a University of Chicago sweater as she wheeled her bag along behind her. There she was; an average college girl coming home for the holidays in a sea of holiday traffic. This college girl was my big sister and I recognized her instantly.

“Chrissie!”

My yell caught her attention but she wasn’t quite sure who the short brunette girl was. I saw her spot, Mom, then look back at me before her look of confusion changed to one of the broadest smiles I had ever seen on my sister’s face.

I had planned to be coy, I had even planned to be demure. Heck, I had been really nervous right up until the very moment that I caught sight of her. The look I shared with my sister in the arrivals lounge of the airport that day changed our relationship on the very spot. I ran to my sister and hugged her fiercely. I wasn’t particularly coherent, but I knew at that very moment that she loved me.

Emotional reunions in arrivals are nothing new, so people moved around us to get on with their own business without paying us any real attention. If only they had known the significance of our embrace.

Chrissie pulled back from our hug after a few moments and regarded me with a soft smile, “It’s good to finally meet you, sis.”

“It feels good to hear you say that,” I grin, wiping my very soggy eyes. “I’ve missed you… I guess a lot has happened since you went back to school.”

“You don’t say,” she laughed, brushing the hair from my eyes. “You look good, you look really happy.”

“She looked a lot better before she sobbed all over you,” Mom observes dryly, hugging her returning daughter, “hello, Darling, welcome home.”

“Hey Mom, have you guys been waiting for me a long time?”

“No, maybe thirty minutes. Are you ready to get home?”

Chrissie gives an exasperated sigh and nods gratefully, “After that ride in a packed tin can? Absolutely. I got a date with a sofa, some cocoa, and this little lady.” she gestures at me. “Lead on, Mother!”

I’d tell you all about our return to the car and our grand adventures trying to escape the airport parking structures and connective roads, but I’m sure you’ve all been there before. It’s unpleasant, complicated, and utterly confusing. No time for complex gender discussions here, all three of us were scanning for signs and offramps until we finally made it to the freeway.

Once we were safely on a less complicated road, Chrissie wasted little time in starting off the conversation.

“I can’t believe how much like Mom you look,” she opined from the front seat. My sister had evicted me from my prime spot by privilege of age. Admittedly, just this once, it was a concession I was willing to make.

“She always took after me, but even your father was saying the same thing,” Mom replied. “Though she does have your spending habits.”

“She really must be my sister,” Chrissie giggled. “Seriously Holly, you look incredible. I knew you looked super girly this summer but wow, you’ve like, totally blossomed.”

I color up like a firetruck. Having my physical appearance discussed is a little uncomfortable for me still, even if it is complimentary. “Uh, thanks, I guess. My plans to keep all this under wraps until I got to college kinda fell flat on their face.”

“I have no idea how you were going to manage that, sis, I saw your boobs this summer.”

“What?” I blurt, “You did? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I did,” Chrissie admits sheepishly. “I told Mom what I’d seen and what I suspected. You were reaching for a shelf in the pantry and your shirt kinda pulled tight. They were small, but it wasn’t puppy fat, girl.”

“This was back when I was just starting to realize what might be going on with you myself, darling,” Mom admits with an apologetic smile in the mirror. “Chrissie brought her suspicions to me and with what I had observed, it made us seek out Doctor Ward’s professional opinion.”

“I really was the last to know,” I complained sourly, slumping back in my seat. “I really thought I was keeping a better lid on things.”

“Maybe for people at school, baby, but not from your own mother and sister. We’re a lot closer to you than they are.”

“I should have been more careful,” I groan. “What if I’d let someone at school see? I could have ruined everything”

“Whether you realized it or not,” Chrissie points out. “I think, on a subconscious level, you felt a little safer around us. It meant you subconsciously let your guard down, even if it was just a crack. From what it sounds like, you were working so hard to keep up the act, you had to rest at some point.”

“Maybe,” I concede. “I just feel like I should have done better. I really did make a mess of all of this.”

Chrissie reaches back and squeezes my knee reassuringly. “Don’t think of it as screwing up, sis. It just proves you couldn’t hide who you really were.”

“I have to still, for a few more weeks,” I grimace, watching the traffic flow past the window. “I’ve got two weeks of school and one international field trip then I’m done with Alex forever.”

“I have no idea how she manages to still pretend to be a boy, Mom.” Chrissie opines, gesturing vaguely in my direction. “I remember seeing her in the summer and she’s just… she isn’t… not anymore. When I first saw you guys in the terminal it took me a second to recognize her. I know it’s only been two or three months, but it’s like a night-and-day difference. When I left, she was super feminine, but now? She’s just a girl, there’s no two ways about it.”

“Welcome to puberty,” Mom chuckles. “Even when it’s medically induced, it’s like a wildfire on a teenager.”

She’s not wrong. I have changed since she went back to college. Hell, I’ve changed since the semester started. Hearing her opinion with a few months of separation really brings it home though. I only have to survive for a couple more weeks and it’s all over; no more hiding, no more Alex. It’s always darkest before the dawn…

 

 

“Hey Kid, you in there?”

I was on my bed reading when Chrissie’s knock snapped me from the world of superheroes and crime. “Yeah? what’s up?”

My sister slid into my room, grinning like a cat. “I wanted to spend some time with my baby sister, is that such a bad reason?”

Comic returned to my night stand, I sat up. “It’s not, I just figured you’d be busy.”

Chrissie joins me on the bed and pats my leg fondly. “I’m really sorry that I excluded you as we grew older. I had no idea how you really felt and I want you to understand that. I know we still got on, but… you and I had something special when we were small.”

“I get it, it’s not your fault,” I shrug. “You started changing, life changed, boys and girls are different.”

Chrissie frowned sadly and squeezed me tightly. “They are, but you weren’t. You never were, kiddo. This entire time you’ve just been, well, you. I shouldn’t have put you in that box and made distance between us. The truth is, when I had my first period, I felt different from you and Rob suddenly. A little ashamed and unclean if I’m honest. At that moment, it was me that was the odd one out, so I separated off and spent more time with Mom and my friends. I felt like I was cut off from you guys”

For a few years I was so confused; I had no idea what I had done wrong,” I admit with a sardonic chuckle. “I had always blamed myself.”

“I’m sorry,” Chrissie sniffs. “Please forgive me?”

I turn and hug my big sister, “I forgave you the second you said my real name.”

“I have a little sister,” Chrissie smiles, wiping a tear from her eye. “I always wanted one, you know? There were times that I pretended that you were her.”

“Wishes come true?” I smirk playfully. “Seriously, what’s prompted the late visit?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“No,” I admit, feeling a little silly, “just curious.”

“You’ve probably not had a sleepover yet, have you?”

“I’m a little old for that, maybe,” I shrug, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Nu huh, no way sister,” Chrissie grins. “I’ll be back.”

With that, the bustier version of Arnold Schwarzenegger scampered out of my room and off into the bowels of the house. What she was up to exactly, I had no idea, but it likely wouldn’t be particularly good for me. You just develop that sixth sense with siblings.

About ten minutes and one chapter of my graphic novel later, Chrissie returned without bothering to knock; yup, definitely my sister.

“Right, up, and you need to get changed, missy.”

“It’s late,” I complain, glancing down at my baggy T-shirt and shorts. “And what’s wrong with my Pajamas?”

“No way,” Sister One shakes her head, “change now. Where are your PJs?”

“Top drawer,” I wave generally in the direction of the closet. “What is going on?”

“Got a surprise for you, and you need something nicer than that ratty lot. Here, catch,” Chrissie tossed me a ball of silk and stepped back, a grin plastered on her face.

Unfurling the clothing, I recognized it as the pale pink silk shorty PJ set I had bought with Mom that first trip. It consisted of a pair of scandalously short… well, shorts, trimmed in white lace, with a matching camisole with adjustable straps. It really left little to the imagination and It was something I saved for when I felt super girly.

Chrissie stood there, hands on hips, and watched me. “Are you not getting changed?”

Fine sister; you asked for this…

I shrugged and pulled my shirt over my head and wiggled out of my shorts. Other than my panties, I was stark naked. I had obviously changed around my friends before, so I wasn’t shy about changing around other girls. The truth was, this was the first time anyone other than Mom had truly seen me, and I think it was the first time that I saw Chrissie truly lost for words.

“Holy shit,” she breathed eventually, her eyes like saucers. “I had no idea.”

Feeling slightly self-conscious at her gawking I slipped into the PJs and adjusted myself. “Yeah, I’ve kinda changed a little.”

“No kidding,” she shook her head. “Holly, I knew you… but I… wow.”

“Real me.”

“It does suit you,” she smiles softly, reaching out and squeezing my hand. Her soft smile shifts to a grin and she gestures over her shoulder at the door. “Right, come on missy, let's get on with this, no dawdling by flashing your tits again.”

I feel so cheap!

Realizing I had little choice but to comply, I grabbed my fluffy white robe and slippers before following her out into the corridor. “Where exactly are we going?”

“Downstairs, now don’t ask questions.”

I petulantly rolled my eyes behind her back and followed her down the stairs. Chrissie led me through to the living room and deposited me on the sofa before vanishing off to conduct more suspicious activity.

A few minutes later she returned with mugs and a bag of something under her arm.

“What are we doing?”

Chrissie deposited two steaming mugs of what I could now smell was hot chocolate on the coffee table and plopped down beside me. “Little sister, we are having a sleepover.”

“But we both live here,” I pointed out.

“That doesn’t stop it being a sleepover,” she pouted. “We’re going to watch movies, cuddle up under a blanket and talk.” Her expression changes and she looks almost regretful. “It’s what I wanted to do with a sister if I had… if I had known that I had one.”

I squeeze Chrissie tightly. I can feel the tears welling in my eyes as my throat catches. I want to say so much to her at that moment, but I cannot find the words. Somehow, it’s everything I wanted too. Every hope I ever had is right there and possible suddenly.

I let the tears fall as I hold onto Chrissie. This is healing; it’s repairing us both and we need it. Over her shoulder, I spot movement in the doorway. Mom smiles and steps back into the hallway without a word. She knows we both need this; that we need some sister time to bond. I don’t deserve to be this lucky.

“Tell me about this boy,” Chrissie asked with faux casualness as we finally collected ourselves.

I turned pink. “Well… I, uh. He goes to my school.”

Big sister rolled her eyes. “I know that; Mom told me already. I want details girl.”

“Well,” I admit. “We sort of became friends at the start of the semester. He’s on the team with Rob so I saw him at games. After a while our hanging out stopped feeling quite so much like being, well, friends.”

Chrissie eyed me, “you started to develop feelings for him?”

I nod and chuckle slightly, sipping my chocolate. “I denied it for so long, resisted the idea. Oh, not the idea of liking boys. I accepted that over the summer.” I admit. “Rather, him specifically. I told myself that it was impossible, unattainable and to allow myself to dream would get me outed or beaten if I made a mistake.”

“How did you two end up all lovey-dovey then?”

I smile, “I confused him.”

Chrissie raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“He started to have feelings for me too. I guess he saw more of Holly than I had intended. It gave him a bit of an identity crisis and… one day it became too much. The poor guy came out to me and professed his feelings.”

Chrissie shook her head and grinned, “My little sister the siren.”

“You make me sound awful,” I cringed.

“Not at all,” Chrissie smiled. “I’m sure he’s not alone though. I bet far more guys see more girl than they realize.”

I thought about Carson’s behavior and other guys at school. “Some do, and then get pissed and beat my ass… others are acting weirder and weirder.”

“How so?”

“Some guys… treat me like a girl without even noticing; they hold doors, move out of my way, or tell me stuff that they would never tell other guys. Hell, the Football team considers me some sort of good luck charm at games and they have no idea why they do it. Somehow I’m just, their friend.

Chrissie chuckled and shook her head. “You’ve got those boys real confused.”

I made a face and nodded in agreement. The truth was, that I didn’t particularly feel like correcting them either. I enjoyed that they treated me more like a girl than a boy. Even the ones that bullied me, in a way, affirmed me. They told me that I was categorically not like them: I was no boy.

Did we have a sleepover? I suppose you could call it that, even if it was in our humble living room. We chatted about our lives and our friends, Chrissie caught me up on college life and I filled her in on my friendship with the sisters. Between the chats, cuddles, and watching cheesy movies with hot chocolate and snacks, it was one of the best nights of my life and a formative memory for me going forward.

It was a night that showed me that Chrissie was still the same girl that I had once played with as a young child. The girl I had always felt so close to, the girl that I had mourned the loss of as we grew older. We had been separated by gender and by my own struggles with being her brother. The truth was, as sisters, we fitted together perfectly.

Just as being Rob’s sister seemed to make sense, being Chrissie’s felt natural and easy. We had so much in common, and I still had so very much to learn.

 

 

“Are you two waking up, or do I have to come in there and start yanking on blankets?”

I cracked an eye and stared bleerily out from my fluffy warm cocoon. Mom was standing with hands on her hips in the doorway of the living room, a less-than-impressed look on her face.

“Comfy,” I mumbled sleepily, snuggling in tighter. “Ten more minutes.”

“As adorable as the sight of my darling girls curled up together on the sofa is, it’s time to get up. It’s after ten on Thanksgiving and we’ve got work to do.”

I shifted and poked a boob that wasn’t my own. My sleep-addled mind registered that the blonde head nestled into my shoulder belonged to my sister. The head stirred upon boob pokage. “Five more minutes Mom,” Chrissie grumbled.

Both of us yelped as the room became exponentially colder when our blanket was cruelly snatched away by an unimpressed parent. You’ve all been there; suddenly you’re freezing cold and your brain takes a few seconds to catch up to the shock.

“Upstairs, shower and get dressed. I want you both down here for breakfast in fifteen minutes so we can get started on dinner.”

“Ugh, yes Mom,” I groan, scratching a boob in an extremely unladylike manner. “I don’t remember falling asleep.”

“Me either,” Chrissie shrugs, adjusting her pajamas. “Come on kiddo, let’s go before we anger the dragon.”

“I heard that!”

Before we could further irritate Mother, we complied with her orders and scarpered off upstairs to wake up properly. Sleeping on the sofa isn’t particularly comfortable, but the shower managed to soothe my aching muscles after the cozy yet uncomfortable night’s sleep. Dressing more comfortably in some sweats and a T-shirt, I was back downstairs, bright-ish-eyed and sort of bushy pony-tailed.

“That’s better,” Mother observed as we slunk into the kitchen, still yawning. “Coffee pot is full, and there’s breakfast waiting. Eat up and we can get started.”

“I came home for a vacation,” Chrissie grumbled, filling her mug. “How come I gotta work?”

“It’s not work, we always make dinner together.”

She has a point; we always have. I never particularly had an interest in watching football unless someone I liked was playing in the game. That meant that I never bothered watching the big game with Rob and Dad. Offering to help was an excuse then and a sneaky opportunity to be with Mom and my sister; now, Im actually a little excited to be part of the team.

Sure, you can make feminist jibes about the girls doing the cooking, but our family has its balance. Dad does a lot of the weeknight cooking and a ton of the cleaning because of Mom’s schedule. Mom actually loves to cook and so do I. Admittedly, Chrissie often got roped in to ‘prepare her for life as an adult’ but it was never particularly a woman thing.

The truth is that Chrissie is often relegated to pealing veg and prep jobs because she’s literally dangerous with anything that involves actual cooking. It may well be a scheme, but she hasn’t starved at college, so who knows?

It feels a little wrong, as a proud independent woman, but deep down I feel a little bit of girlish pride to be here cooking with my Mom. Doing the ‘girl’ job still feels exciting to my dysphoric young mind, but it’s more than that, it’s sharing an experience with two people I love.

After we gobbled up our breakfast and managed to caffeinate ourselves back into some semblance of consciousness, Mom set Chrissie and me to pealing various vegetables while she got the turkey going. Dad’s a decent cook, and I’ll never knock his dishes, but Mom is truly an artist.

While we work, we chat about Chrissie’s time in Chicago and Mom’s work. I even get to offer my thoughts about school and life. The funny part is, my being trans is never once mentioned. Today I feel normal; a regular girl with a regular life and it feels so utterly right that I want to sing with joy… If I could hold a note without instantly dropping it down a mineshaft that is.

“I tell you what,” Chrissie opines. “I think I should move back home; Holly has a boyfriend, Rob is grunting on about some girl and me? I’m still freaking single! You’d think at college that I could find a decent guy, but no. I am destined to be an old spinster.”

“You’ve not been on any dates?” I ask cautiously. Obviously, my relationship with Chrissie has changed, but I still feel a little uncertain about where the new lines lie when it comes to ‘sharing our love lives.

“Plenty,” she sighed. “The problem is that none of them are keepers. Before you say it, no Mom, I’m not letting my schoolwork slip.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less from you,” Mom chuckles. “Nobody catch your eye?”

“One, but he’s focused on his work too,” she admits. “I really just… I want to get a little romance and scratch that itch, you know?”

“Your sister has been making up for lost time herself,” Mom offers casually, a sly grin reminiscent of Megan crossing her lips. “She came home the other night with a hickey on her neck.

I turn, not just red, but full-on crimson. “I uh… I… bu…I… had my hair down.”

Chrissie grins like a shark and points the potato peeler at me. “Dear sister, are you getting your oats sowed already? You work fast my girl!.”

I am struggling to process this level of casual openness between the Winters women (God, I love that expression)

“I… buh… no?” I spluttered, uncertain how to even respond to such an accusation. As you can imagine I am the color of a firetruck, in a volcano, on Mars.

“Leave her alone Christine,” Mom chided. “She’s not doing anything of the sort, I would hope. But that doesn’t mean a mother doesn’t notice the evidence of a little heavy petting.”

“That sounds positively puritanical,” I grumble. “We’ve kissed a couple of times, ok? I have not had sex with anyone,” I point out more firmly than I feel, shooting my grinning sister a death stare.

“And what’s it like? kissing boys?”

I shuffle awkwardly. “Dunno, I don’t exactly have anything to compare it to.”

Chrissie frowns. “You never?”

I shook my head shyly. “No, not really. I… I guess I wasn’t interested in anyone until, well. Hormones.”

Chrissie nodded knowingly, “One day you saw a boy and… boom, holy shit, am I right?”

I glance between my mother and sister and shrug, “Kinda, I suppose. Sorry; I feel kinda weird talking about this stuff.”

Mom reaches out and touches my hand and smiles kindly. “It’s ok, Darling; we’ve all been there and you’re no different from any other girl. I know you feel awkward because of how you got here, but the truth is that it doesn’t matter. You can tell us anything and you can be honest about how you feel. I’ve always encouraged Chrissie to be open with me because it’s healthy.

I want her to learn that there is nothing wrong with her body or her feelings. Women have desires too, no matter what society tells us and I want my girls to have a healthy relationship with themselves and their sexuality.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to my Mom after her declaration. I was genuinely speechless at her statement; I knew that girls and women wanted to do stuff like that; hell, I had learned enough from the Sisters and Tina to know that girls were just as horny as guys. Talking about it with my sister and mother, however, was a different topic entirely.

I returned to dicing carrots to distract myself from her words. I wanted to share with them, but I also felt quite embarrassed. The closeness that Mom and Chrissie clearly shared was wild to me. That I was being offered inclusion made me feel both nervous and yet filled me with joy to be seen as their equal.

Fuck it.

“We’ve kissed a bit, but I don’t really want to rush; I’m… I don’t want to do… that... until I’m correct… down there.”

“Correct?” Chrissie asked then her eyes widened. “Oh, shit. I didn’t think about that.”

“That can’t happen until you’re eighteen, Honey,” Mom reminded me gently, stroking my back. “I know you want it, but it’s the rules.”

What a tragedy, no lunch break vaginoplasty for me on the taxpayer, whatever is America coming to.

“I know,” I sigh. “I just don’t wanna even think about that kind of thing while I’m… you know.”

“Not the worst thing in the world to keep your virginity until you know yourself and the world a little better honey.” Mom

“Yeah I can imagine,” Chrissie admitted making a face. “Tough break, sis. Still, you’re not missing out on much. Trust me; men are nothing but problems.”

“Your father isn’t a problem, is he?” Mom counters.

“Mostly,” Chrissie grimaces before smirking.

 

 

Sitting down to dinner with my family that Thanksgiving Thursday afternoon was an incredible experience that I will never forget; Mom, Dad, Rob, Chrissie, and I were finally a whole family. It truly meant the world to me that I was able to finally sit alongside them as Holly Juliette Winters. I was finally the person I was meant to be and my family loved me.

I won’t spoil you with an entire breakdown of the meal or how hard it was to drag Rob and Dad away from the TV, but I will share one moment with you. Like so very much in this odyssey of idiocy I call a book, It matters.

“I would like to make a toast,” I point out, wiggling my wine glass. (Look, our parents are decent human beans and we get a glass on holidays.)

“Go ahead honey,” Mom smiles.

I stand. We aren’t really a standing-to-toast sort of family, but it feels like a standing moment and I’m pretty sure they know what I’m going to say, but I do it anyway. It matters that I say this.

“This Thanksgiving is very special for me in so many ways. It was only last year that I was so very depressed; lost within myself and within the world. The truth is that this is, in many ways, the first real Thanksgiving of my life. I owe it all to you guys. Dad, Mom, Rob, Chrissie. Each of you has, in your own way, changed my life for the better.”

“Mom and Dad; you loved me unconditionally. I’m a little cranky that you knew for so long and didn’t tell me sooner, but…” I sighed. “That’s on me too. Thank you for loving me.”

I turned to Rob and smiled at my big brother. “Robert, you’ve always looked out for me and protected me; you’ve been there, no matter what. When I needed you most, you answered and I couldn’t be more proud of the guy you’ve become. You’re the best big brother I could ask for.”

I turned finally to my sister, Christine. “Chrissie, you were my idol when we were growing up. I wanted to be like you before I really understood what that meant. Now, you’ve welcomed me into your heart as your sister and I couldn’t feel more love.”

Chrissie smiled, Rob smiled, and our parents smiled. At that moment I felt such incredible love. I felt seen finally as the real me, the girl I had always known was in there.

I couldn’t possibly comprehend last year while I sat quietly at the table, performing family, that I would be here as my real authentic self.

Truth be told, it was kinda kickass to be me. That sounds egotistical if you haven’t had to fight for that very basic human feeling.

“I want to say something,” Rob offers, standing. I take my seat and give him a grin.

Rob returns the smile with warmth and raises his glass toward me. “Holly, you kinda came out of left field this year, but at the same time, it’s like you’ve always been here. The more I think back, the more I realize we always had this big bro, little sister thing going on; I just never saw it clearly.”

He shrugged and looked a little darker suddenly. “I’m thankful that you’re still alive. I know you dodged around saying it directly, but I’m really freaking happy that… well, you know. I can’t imagine how bad it’s been, but I’m glad you came out the far side. This you is pretty cool.”

“Seconded,” Chrissie offered raising her glass. “To the little sister we always had, but never really saw. I’m glad we get to know her now.”

Mom cleared her throat and glanced at Dad before taking her turn. “Your father and I are thankful for our amazing children. “Robert; a wonderful young man with a heart of gold and the spirit of a lion. You look out for your siblings and protect those that are weaker. You’re so very much like your father.”

Rob had the good grace to blush at that remark. I know he idolizes Dad.

“Christine,” Dad took over. “You’re doing us all proud at college and I couldn’t be prouder to have such a beautiful and intelligent daughter.”

Mom turns to me last and I melt under the warmth of her love. “Holly, darling. You have been through so many difficulties, but perhaps none as trying as this year. You tools us your truth and threw yourself on our acceptance. You’re a brave and courageous young woman that reminds me so very much of myself. Despite all your troubles, you’ve managed to maintain an excellent record at school. We’re both so very proud of you.”

She glanced at Rob and Chrissie. “Both of you accepted your sister without question and have stood by her. Your father and I are so very proud that we raised such wonderful children. All of you make me so very thankful to have my family happy and whole this year.”

 

 

Modern-Day Holly Here: Thanksgiving; it’s a weird holiday. For some, it’s a time of family, joy, and celebration. For others, it is an obligation and a time of arguments and awkwardness. Sure, I could go into the history of the pilgrims and our first celebrations as a fledgling nation, but you all know that one. What exactly Thanksgiving means today, is very different.

We’re a fractured people, probably more so now than we were back then when I shared that first real Thanksgiving with my family as Holly. That one event will never leave my memory, even as I now celebrate even more joyful family holidays.

I am thankful because I have a chance to live authentically; not something that everyone gets to say, trans or not. I am thankful because I get to share my love with my family, old and new. I wrote this chapter a few weeks before Thanksgiving so very far in the future that little Holly has no idea where she will be one day.

Now, on top of being a daughter, I too am a wife and a mother; how life sneaks up on you, eh? I have two beautiful children and a wonderful husband. Coming home to celebrate this holiday feels so magical with a house full of family; Rob and Chrissie’s kids all get on great with mine, and Mom and Dad love being doting Grandparents.

We are lucky that we have a good life and a good family, not everyone does. To me, Thanksgiving started that year, back in 2004. That was the first year of my life in many ways, and I have never looked back.

Take the opportunity, if you can, to tell someone you love them. Share your feelings and be kind. Life can be cruel sometimes and we don’t even know it. We become numb to pain and we let it soak into our bones until we know nothing else.

I would be remiss to not point out that today, we need to be thinking of others more than ever before. The world is an intolerant place. Not because people are intolerant, but because those in power want to keep us divided. Don’t push people away; look past the hate and try to see the person. Life is far too short to be tribal.

I know you’re scared, I am too. The truth is that this too will pass, we can and will outlast it. I prescribe hope at this time of thanks and love; hope for a future where we can all live in freedom. Hope that one day, we throw off the yoke of the fascists and that justice will prevail. Hope that one day a worm doesn’t dictate medical policy.

I swear to God, you couldn’t write a comedy about this shit, nobody would believe the setup.

 

Happy Thanksgiving to all my American friends (And those that celebrate it) This is a tough year for many of us. Keep your chins up, there is plenty to be thankful for, even if it isn't immediately obvious. Stay strong and be yourselves. The night is always darkest before the dawn.

 

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“I hope everyone has their passports to hand,” Frau Whistler called out to the assembled masses in the airport departure terminal.

It was five-thirty in the morning and I was severely lacking in sleep. You need to understand that I’m really not a morning person at the best of times, but now… now I’m basically a zombie. I’ve not even had coffee since we left home at three; my tank is so empty that Mike Pence’s soul is jealous.

There were around forty of us gathered here, a combination of girls and boys from both classes and all of us appeared to be struggling with the earliness of the hour. This is the one thing I’ve always hated about airports; they’re time prisons. You have to arrive three hours before your flight only to do very little for the entirety of it and feel like it vanished.

One fun fact about this trip was it was a joint venture between both the Boys and Girls Divisions of our school. This was normal for many of the bigger trips as it saved on resources. This meant that Frau Whistler and her cohort were joined by Herr Norton and his merry Mädchen.

It was already going to be bad enough for me, trying to keep Holly under wraps while around twenty guys in close proximity for a whole week. But a co-ed jury of my peers? Yeah, this was going to be interesting. My saving grace was that after this, I have one quiet week left and then it’s bye-bye Alex for good. Personally, I cannot wait.

I pulled my passport out of my backpack and waved it in Frau Whistler’s direction. “Here, Miss.”

“At least one of you remembered,” she smiled, looking as tired as I felt. “Perkins, show me where your passport is before the TSA searches you so hard that your Grandchildren feel their gloved pinkies.”

While Frau Whistler corralled our number, I gazed longingly toward the security area. Believe me, I wasn’t looking forward to going through it, but I was quite excited to reach the departures lounge beyond. Why? That’s where the coffee shops lived. The sooner I let the TSA have their wicked way with me, the sooner I’d be in the warm embrace of a double-shot macchiato; I’m a simple girl with simple needs.

So what has happened since Thanksgiving? Honestly, not a great deal. The week after the warm, fuzzy, family holiday was about as bland as bland could possibly be. I could waste your lives with another chapter where I talk about my feelings, make out with Boy Wonder, and deal with teenage angst, but it would be superfluous to proceedings and just serve to make you all melt like a good trans-fiction. In reality, it was spent shopping for my present international adventure, avoiding being beaten to a pulp, and keeping Holly Winters a big fat secret. Yeah, that lasted all of zero minutes in typical me fashion.

“Erm, Holly?”

Whadafuck… why is someone… oh shit.

“Huh?”

I turn around and come face-to-face with a particular pint-sized blonde that I know very well indeed; Tina. Yes, that Tina, no not Turner, the one from the Gym.

I grinned nervously and scratched my head, “Uh, Hey Tina. I uh, didn’t know you took German?”

She pointedly looks me up and down and raises a delicate eyebrow, “I didn’t know you were a boy either.”

I swear to god, I don’t know how I managed to get into these situations.

“It’s…ah, kinda complicated,” I sigh, my shoulders dropping.

Tina jerks her thumb towards a bench along one wall of garish advertising displays, “I think you and I need a lil chat, missy.”

We walk away slightly to one side and sit while the teachers begin checking everyone has their required travel documents. You know kids; cannot be trusted to walk and chew gum.

“So what’s the deal?” she begins without fanfare. “I’ve seen you at the gym and ain’t no boys with them titties, yet somehow, you’re here with the boys’ German class. How the hell are you managing that?”

I mentally shrug and decide to run the quick highlights version of my sob story so she catches the relevant parts.

“That’s because I am actually in the boys' German class.” I sigh. “I’m transgender; I should have been born a girl but wasn’t. I’ve always felt that way; like something was cosmically wrong. I’ve been taking steps to correct things and… well, as of January, I’ll be transferring to the Girls’ Division and this whole charade will be over. I didn’t want to lie to anyone, I just… this wasn’t ever the plan…”

“Woah, top ten anime plot twists.”

I shoot Tina a look and she grins. It’s not the sort of grin like she’s laughing at me, it’s more as if she’s laughing at her own joke. I shake my head and ignore her, at least she’s not flipped out and screamed yet.

“Outside of school, I’m just Holly; you can ask Meg and Kara. Here, for now, I still gotta be…” I swallow and regret telling her the next word. “Alex.”

“You’re a really shit boy, you know,” she offers casually. “I can see why you’d wanna change teams.”

I make a face. “It’s a little more nuanced than that.”

Tina shrugs. “Yeah, but I like life to be simpler; it’s far less depressing that way. So these dipshits have no idea that they’re in class with a chick, do they?”

“Somehow,” I agree with a whopper of an eye roll.

“Well,” she grins. “Finally there is something to make this trip a bit more interesting. I thought it was all going to be culture and boring lectures. I can’t wait to watch this trainwreck unfold.”

“I’m not a zoo exhibit,” I complain.

“Monkey says what?”

“Shut up.”

This is going to be a very, very long trip. How was I meant to know that Tina goddamn Booth was in the Girls’ Division German class? I’ll be having a strongly worded text exchange with the Byrne sisters later for omitting this critical information. I swear, if I survive this with my Alex disguise intact, It’s going to be a miracle.

Once everyone’s crap is verified our educators lead us through to the security area. The first hurdle of the trip is here and it’s going to be a fun one for yours truly. While the photograph matches me and looks far more teen girl than teen boy, my passport very much says Alexander Winters, and Male. My current problem is I look like neither, but you know that already.

My new blonde shadow is sticking close to my shoulder, which is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, I‘ve grown quite fond of her annoying ass. On the other, my hanging around with a girl is going to send mixed signals to outside viewers that stack the deck against my purported masculinity.

“Empty your pockets in the tray and walk through the metal detector please.”

I didn’t have much on me that was metal, so I deposited my stuff in the plastic bin and wandered through for my dose of electromagnetism.

“Miss, step to the side please.”

Great.

“It’s Sir,” I mutter, as much as I don’t want to, ‘tis what my ID proclaims and the last thing I need is a confusion holdup alerting people to my situation.

“Sorry, uh, kid. I gotta give you a pat down, it’s the rules,” The security weenie offers.

I hold my arms out while the man pats me down in a business-like manner. Somehow managing to avoid my boobs.

“All done, thank you.”

Wow, I made it through entirely unscathed; perhaps miracles do happen. Eh, this cannot last.

You have to remember that this is 2004, so it’s just before the era of full-body scanners that would have made my life utterly hell. Thankfully the TSA was still in its infancy and as yet, had not quite gained all its tools of harassment. Being a white kid with a school party we were left mostly unmolested. Yes, I use that phrase deliberately.

I collect my belongings and wait for the rest of our horde to be through before we’re allowed to proceed on to the part I’ve been looking forward to the most; the departures hall.

“I want you all at Gate Thirty-Four in one hour exactly!” Whistler yells over our chatter. “One hour, or you get left behind and can explain to your parents why they’re making a trip out here at this time of day.”

“Come on,” Tina urges, dragging me by the arm. “We’re getting coffee and talking about your weird-ass self.”

“I’m not weird.”

“Sure you’re not, girl.”

I groan. “Stop calling me that.”

All I get in response is a raised eyebrow and a giggle. I get the feeling that this is going to get very old, very fast.

We set up camp in a coffee shop with an overpriced cup of caffeine and a bagel each. We’re tucked into a booth in a secluded corner so we can talk relatively freely at this early hour.

Tina takes an almighty bite of her bagel and chews happily. I use her full mouth as an opportunity to take back control of the conversation. “Look, no matter what you think of me, you really need to call me Alex and male this week. I’m serious Tina, this could get me in real trouble if you mess up.”

“I’ll be good… in public.” she grins around her bagel. “So like, outside of school, what are you?”

“Holly,” I admit. “Outside school, I’m just Holly. Best friend to Kara and Megan, sister to my siblings, and daughter to my parents. It’s relatively new; maybe a month or so since I started living as myself properly. From what I’m told both Frau Whistler and Herr Norton know about me for safety’s sake.”

“That’s so cool.” she enthuses. “Like, go you.”

I make a face. “You’re weirdly positive about all of this, why?”

Tina shrugs. “I have two moms; queer shit doesn’t phase me. I’ve met transsexuals before but never one my own age, so it’s kinda neat.”

“You have?”

“Sure,” she shrugs. “Like, my mom Sarah runs a GLBT outreach center. A bunch of them go to a support meeting there, they’re pretty cool.”

“I’ve never met anyone else like me in real life,” I admit. “Maybe I’d like to try it sometime, but for now I’m still working on keeping this under wraps until the end of the semester.”

“So you gotta do boy drag till the holidays?”

I nod. “Yeah, they wanted me to finish up the semester so it’s less disruptive to transfer. I’ve been doing OK until this trip… I didn’t expect to run into you.”

Tina grinned. “I saw you and I was so confused. I knew you were probably coming to our school from what you had said at the gym, but I was like… didn’t she say January? And why does she dress like my Mom Emma?”

“Your Mom Emma?”

“I can’t just call them both Mom, there’s two of them… Mom Emma is chapstick.”

“What’s that?”

“A type of lesbian; like, not butch, but not femme. Basically somewhere in the middle, kinda a tomboy.”

I just look at her wide-eyed. “I have no idea what all this stuff means.”

“Am I interrupting anything good?”

I jump a little as I spot Frau Whistler standing next to our booth. “Oh, uh no, just talking.”

“Holly was just telling me about her whole ‘hiding as a boy’ deal.”

“TINA!”

Tinker-dumbass shrugs, “What? You said she knows?”

“I mean, not the point,” I muttered, blushing.

“Ah,” my teacher sighs, slipping into the booth beside me. “Whilst that is true – I do know about it – it’s not really something you should be discussing without someone’s express permission, Fraulein Booth. As far as I know, they are trying to keep this under wraps till the end of the semester.”

“I’d prefer if you tried to hide this, even a little” I mutter, glaring at Tina. “Just because someone knows doesn’t make it cool to just blurt it out.”

“Ho…Alex is right. S…” ” Frau Whistler sighs. “You know, now that I know, I really do struggle to call you a boy.”

“Not you too,” I groan, actually headdesking the table. “Try and pretend for my sake, please?”

“You’re far too pretty to be a boy, honey,” Tina grins. “I might not be as gay as my moms, but you’re hot as shit and it shows.”

Frau Whistler betrays me and chuckles. “I think what Fraulein Booth is saying is that you struggle to put forward a particularly masculine presentation when out of uniform.”

“Two more weeks and I won’t have to ever again,” I groan. “Just got to survive two weeks.”

“Jokes aside, I will cover your secret, Alex.” Tina smiles more kindly. “But I reserve the right to call you Holly when in private.”

“Only if she wants you to,” my teacher interjects. “It’s her choice at the end of the day.”

My god, neither one of them can keep a straight pronoun. I’m so freaking dead.

 

 

Flying from the United States to Germany is an extremely long journey indeed. We’re expecting to be in the air for a little over fourteen hours, which will see us landing at around seven in the evening, local time. We essentially spend our entire day in a big metal tube, forty thousand feet over the Atlantic Ocean and France, but who really cares about France though?

I’m sat in a window seat next to two guys with whom I don’t really socialize with in class, so I spend most of my flight watching movies or reading. Honestly, for a loner like me who’s only just worked out the whole friendship deal, it’s not a bad way to kill a day.

“Here you are Miss,” a flight attendant beams mechanically as she offers me a meal tray.

Grrr

I accept my lunch and pretend like I didn’t hear her. It’s far easier to just not react and draw attention to the pronoun tennis that my life has become. At the start of the term, I was a little better at portraying Alex when out of uniform. At least people that I didn’t know only assumed I was female most of the time. I think the biggest part is that now I’m now living as Holly almost full-time, so more feminine behaviors are my more overt default. If you add to that the effect of a few more months of hormones, basically everyone who doesn’t know me would put money on my being born female.

Am I pleased with that outcome? Yes, ordinarily, I would be totally fine with it. The only problem currently is that for this week, I am stuck with people from school. The chances of this all coming out are dangerously high, but hey, I do love to live a dangerous life, don’t I?

How matters will go now that I have another on the trip that knows about me? I have no idea. I like Tina and she has been fun when I only knew her as Holly. Now she knows Alex is Holly, who knows what will happen? She seems so utterly casual about the whole thing, which certainly concerns me more than a little bit. Time will tell if that goes bad or not.

I finish up my meal and our attendants collect our trays. Considering this would be, I believe, lunch, it was rather filling indeed. Having chosen the chicken, I was served a rather delicious tagliatelli in a mushroom sauce that really managed to hit the spot. The salad and dessert managed to leave me rather stuffed and sleepy.

A glance at the screen on the back of my seat told me that we had a good five hours remaining before we made Deutschland, so I figured a little nap would serve me well. First, though, the bathroom was calling.

Window seats are fantastic, until you need to use the toilet. After managing to squeeze past my classmates, I made my way back towards the facilities in the middle of the economy cabin. What? You thought they flew us first class? Pft, not that kind of school.

Heading back, I spotted various members of our party spread out throughout the huge cabin of the Jumbo jet. Frau Whistler and Herr Norton were having what looked like a comfortable conversation on the far side and I spotted Gary chuckling with his little friends somewhere a few rows behind them.

Gary was still a large unknown; he hadn’t said anything as far as I knew, but he could still stick a knife in at an inopportune moment so I had to keep my eye on him. I’m pretty positive that his sisters threatened physical violence if he messed me around, but I wasn’t sure how stupid he was feeling.

I pass Tina, who is seated in the central block of seats a couple of rows in front of the bathrooms. She’s blasting away on a Gamekid and chatting to a dark-haired girl beside her. As I pass, she spots me and wiggles her eyebrows. Yup, it’s going to be a long trip. How I’d love to be sat beside her like any other girl.

I arrive at the bathrooms and find myself waiting behind an elderly lady with a cane. Not one of those people comfortable to ignore others, I give her a polite smile.

“Hallo, junge Frau, gehst du nach Hause?”

It took me a second to realize she had spoken to me in German. She was asking if I was going home. I shook my head, “Nein, ich bin Amerikanerin; ich mache Urlaub."

She nodded knowingly when I told her I was on vacation. “Ah, it is good to visit the world. I wish I could travel when I was your age.”

“It’s a school trip,” I offer, “We’re visiting the markets.”

“Ach so, they are beautiful.” She smiles happily. “You will have a lovely time.”

“I hope so,” I grin. “You’ve been on holiday?”

“Visiting my son and his family in San Francisco,” the old lady admits. “They have two lovely children, girls. But now I go home and get to rest!”

“Sounds nice.”

She nods, “It is not so much work, but they are young and they wear me out quickly.”

The current occupant of the bathroom exits and vanishes off towards the tail of the plane and my companion smiles before stepping inside. “Have a nice trip, young lady.”

I smile to myself. Did you notice what I did? No, you probably didn’t, did you? I used the feminine form of American; hell, she started it. Look, just because I have to be a boy around my classmates, doesn’t mean I have to all the time. I’m not likely to see the kindly old Oma again.

Another bathroom frees up and I do my business and return to my seat. After a little twister with my rowmates, I return to my spot next to the window. Outside, the sky is bright blue and the clouds scud past beneath us. I pull down my blind and curl up in a ball in what little comfort I can manage. Within minutes, I’m away in the land of nod.

 

 

Setting foot on foreign soil feels very different each and every time you do it. Traveling between English-speaking countries like the United States and the United Kingdom is fairly benign, but when one enters a country where English is not the primary language, it makes itself immediately obvious. Our first steps off the plane at Frankfurt International Airport had our entire hoard reduced to wide-eyed children. Honestly, for all the German I had learned, I was quite lost as the tannoy blasted out garbled incoherent announcements that probably made little sense to the Germans as well.

Frau Whistler raised her voice and waved to the group to get our attention. “Everyone! Listen up! We’ll head through German Immigration now and then collect your bags. Please stick together, do not wander off and please have your documents ready.”

She glanced over at one group of boys who had been talking the entire time and paying zero attention. “Paul, If you left your passport on the plane I will abandon you here and apologize to your parents later.”

The boys shut up almost immediately.

I pulled my passport out of my backpack and said a silent prayer that this entire enterprise didn’t blow up. (Figuratively, not literally, this is an airport after all.) This, of all places in the trip, carried the greatest potential for being called out. All I needed was a German Immigration officer wondering loudly why a teen girl was trying to travel on a boy’s passport and my Schnitzel was cooked.

“You look like you’re trying to sneak three bricks of cocaine into the country up your butt.”

“Tina, what the fuck kind of shit is that?” I gasp.

The tiny blonde flashes me a dastardly smirk. “I don’t know, it just seemed to match the painful, terrified expression on your face. It’s that or you need to take a massive…”

“No,” I cut her off with an exasperated sigh. “I’m not exactly looking forward to immigration if you must know. It has nothing to do with my butt.”

Tina giggled unhelpfully. “I’m guessing your passport still says Alex, right?”

I nod and she giggles, “Oh yeah, they’re going to love you.”

“I liked you before this trip,” I complained bitterly as we joined the rest of our classmates in the immigration line.

My timing is perfect and we join the queue close to the rear. Sure, it will take ages but it also means that nobody will overhear potential problems. Herr Norton is at the very back while Frau Whistler leads our people through. This way, nobody can escape or cause too many problems. It’s almost like they think we’re a bunch of useless sheep!

Tina and I are the last two to reach the desks and I step forward and smile as pleasantly as I can manage.

“Reisepass, bitte.”

I hand over my passport and smile again, hoping I look casual rather than constipated. The German official examines my passport, glancing back and forth between me and it for a second or two before turning to his colleague.

“Erik, schau mal” he calls, waving the passport. I feel a rock drop in the pit of my stomach as ‘Erik’ wanders over and glances at the passport too.

“Ist das dein?”

He’s asking if it’s mine, I know what he’s implying. “Ja, das ist mein.”

“In deinem Reisepass steht, dass du ein Junge bist?"

I sigh. I’m still following the German here, they just asked why my passport says that I’m a boy. Time to clarify matters. “Ja, ich bin ein Junge, kein Mädchen.”

Two pairs of Germanic eyebrows raised. “Amerikanerin?”

“Ja, wie mein Reisepass steht.”

The man picks up a phone and jabbers away in rapid German.

“Problem?” Herr Norton asks, stepping up next to me.

“Bitte, Herr, warten Sie,” The man waves towards the teacher asking him to wait his turn.

“Nein, ich bin sein Lehrer… I’m his teacher, guardian?“

The man shakes his head and continues on the phone.

“Passport troubles, Winters?”

I nod and sigh with exasperation “Exactly what you might expect.”

Herr Norton smiles and waves me behind him as he approaches the desk. He waves the chap Erik over and begins explaining the matter in rapid German. The man seems surprised and then starts nodding before turning to his colleague and jabbering away. A few minutes later the original officer waves me forward and hands me my passport. “Deine Reisepass. Alles in Ordnung, Fräulein. Willkommen in Deutschland.”

For fucks sake.

By the time Herr Norton and I catch up to the others, they are waiting in the arrivals hall, having already cleared customs and collected their baggage. As expected, our late arrival hasn’t been missed by the others.

“What was all that about?” one guy asks, “you took ages in there.”

Before I can answer, Herr Norton steps in with the save. “The number was glitched on Alex’s passport with it being a newly issued one. They needed to sort it out manually so it took forever.” Herr Norton sighs dramatically. “What can you do with computers, eh?”

Nice cover teacher. He just went up higher in my estimations.

People seem satisfied for the moment. Gary glances my way and frowns. I’m pretty sure he knows why I was delayed but he’s keeping his trap shut. He’s a tricky one; that slippery bastard is going to be alert to shenanigans this trip, so I’ll need to be on my best behavior. The problem is that without his sisters he might be harder to control. I wonder if I can set Tina on him? There is, however, every chance that this might be considered a war crime.

Once everyone is ready, Frau Whistler escorts us out into the pickup area where a large intercity style busis waiting for us. In no short order, we were herded aboard our transport and we set off into Germany proper.

I managed to snag myself a seat to myself on the bus and curled up to watch the weird and wonderful scenery pass by. We landed in Frankfurt, so it’s a fair drive to our hotel somewhere north of Bonn. Once we get out of the Frankfurt suburbs and industrial areas, it's actually an incredibly scenic drive as we pass Mainz and turn north towards Koblenz. It feels weird to actually be here, but it’s exciting all the same.

After a couple of hours of Autobahn travel, we roll up at our accommodation for the week. Our hotel is not some glitzy four-star city center spot for trendy folk with cash to burn. We might be on a private school trip but it doesn’t mean we’re loaded either. No, we’re staying out in the sticks in what roughly equates to a business hotel. It’s clean and tidy but it’s not particularly interesting or snazzy.

The Hotel Am Rhein is located in a town called Wesseling. It’s slap bang between Köln (What the Germans call Cologne) and Bonn, the two major cities we’ll be visiting during our visit. It’s right on the bank of the mighty Rhein in quite possibly the most industrial little town I’ve ever seen. It’s like Detroit, but less dead and far more Lederhosen.

We arrived at the hotel around six in the evening. By this point, most of us are pretty exhausted. We’ve been traveling for most of the day and I for one could do with a whole lot of sleep. The problem is that if we want to actually beat the jet lag we need to stay up for a few hours yet.

“Your room is three fifteen Fraulein, danke.”

I take the key offered by the receptionist and hold my tongue. Tina chuckles quietly beside me and gets an elbow in the ribs for her trouble. It turns out that we’re going to be neighbors for the week as she’s in three fourteen with a girl called Sarah.

We haul our bags into the elevator and ride up to the third floor.

“Who are you sharing with?” Sarah asks as we traipse down the corridor in search of our rooms.

“I’m on my own I think.” I offer, not wanting to really go into the why.

“Cool,” she enthuses. “We doing anything after we get settled? They said we were free until like ten.”

“We could always head into the town and take a look around?” Tina offers. “I saw some cafes and stuff on the drive-in.”

“Sure,” I shrug, “I am kinda hungry.”

We agree to meet in fifteen minutes so I drag my bags into my room and take a look around. For a small hotel, it’s actually a rather nice single room. There is plenty of space, a decent bed, and a very clean and tidy ensuite bathroom all to myself.

I toss my bag on the bed and begin unpacking. Before you ask, I didn’t bring any girly stuff with me. Ok sure, most of the stuff is from the girls section now, but it’s all really androgynous and not designed to enhance my figure. Naturally, I have my bras and panties, but those are just a necessity at this point. Obviously I’ve not brought anything uplifting, but rather my compression sports bras, what do you take me for?

Fifteen minutes and a quick wash and tidy later, I’m waiting outside my room to meet the others. It’s pretty cold over here, so I toss a leather jacket on over my hoodie and stuff a beanie on my head. Coupled with my cargos, I look about as macho as I can manage these days. Maybe Tina is right, I think I might be sending out potent lesbian vibes. I hope Germany doesn’t have any of those or I might be in serious trouble.

A few moments later, Tina and Sarah come spilling out of their room, having changed completely out of their comfy travel clothes and into warmer winter outfits befitting the current cold climate.

“You been waiting long?”

“Nah,” I shrug, falling in alongside them as we head back towards the lobby. “I got my stuff unpacked and grabbed a jacket. Not really much to do.”

Did I agonize over the mirror trying to make myself look more boyish then suffer an existential crisis of dysphoria at the very act then shrug it off and accept my lesbian vibes? maybe.

“So you’re… Alex right?” Sarah asks, giving me a once-over. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too,” I smile carefully. She seems like a nice girl from our brief interactions, but I’m reluctant to get too relaxed around her at the moment. The last thing I need to do is slip and reveal something too girly and I start unraveling this entire mess.

Sarah is taller than both Tina and I, standing around five foot eight or so in her winter boots. She has long black hair and is currently wrapped up in a furry hooded coat and a pretty woolen hat and glove set that I’d far rather be wearing.

We set off from the hotel and headed south into the town itself. It wasn’t that big, but somehow they’ve managed to fit a ton of stuff into a tiny space here. Unlike the States, the roads are super narrow and nothing much reached past three stories.

We walk for about fifteen minutes before finding ourselves in the center of the little town. There are a lot of pedestrian streets here, all of them filled with various bars and restaurants serving a bustling clientele in the winter evening. We were hungry kids, so our first port of call was fast food.

“Was kann ich euch bringen, Mädchen?" the rosy-faced chap in the burger joint asks as we traipse in out of the cold.

Again, sigh.

“Einen Moment, bitte,” I ask, giving the guy a friendly smile.

I peruse the menu of the place, it’s a typical takeaway selling burgers, sausages and the like. Nothing remotely healthy, but delicious all the same. I glance over at Sarah and Tina, “What do you guys fancy?”

“Some fries maybe? Oh, one of those currywurst things?” Tina asks, almost salivating at the prospect.

I turn back to the waiting Wurstmeister. “Drei Currywurst mit Pommes bitte.”

(Italics are in German, I won’t waste your time translating more)

“No problem girls,” the guy replies, “Three currywurst and fries coming up. Are you visiting? You don’t sound local.”

“Yes, school trip.” I offer, “We are from America.”

“Wow, that’s a long journey. I hope you enjoy Germany.” he grinned. “That will be twelve Euros please.”

I fork over the cash and receive three polystyrene trays of paprika-sauced goodness in return. We thank our server and head back out into the cold to enjoy our bounty.

“That guy thought you were a girl.” Sarah points out. “He kept saying Mädchen; that means girls.”

Grr.

“It happens sometimes,” I shrug. “I just ignore it.”

“Alex is just a bit too pretty for a boy,” Tina mumbles past a mouthful of potato sticks.

“That must be a bit weird,” Sarah opines. “So how do you know Tina then?”

“We play Badminton together at the Skyline with Meg and Kara Byrne.”

“Ah cool,” Sarah grins, sticking a slice of wurst in her mouth. “I just stuck to volleyball.”

We walk through the town eating our food. Most of the normal shops are closed at this hour of the day, but the bars and restaurants are keeping the nighttime consumer happy. It’s quite unlike anything I’ve experienced in America, although being sixteen, that’s not exactly a great deal.

I deposit my empty food tray in a nearby trashcan and lick the last of the curry sauce off my lips. For takeout, it was absolutely worth the money and it has left me feeling in a particularly good mood. Even the exhaustion from a day of travel, passport shenanigans and Tina’s buffoonery can’t manage to kick the smile off my face.

My phone rings while we’re walking back along the road to the hotel and I drop back while I answer it. I don’t recognize the caller ID, but it’s got a US country code.

“Hello?”

“Holly?

My heart warms as I recognize the voice. “Rick? What are you doing calling me? You know I’m in Germany right now, don’t you?”

The voice on the other end of the line chuckles softly, “I know; I’m calling on Dad’s phone, he has international minutes.”

“It’s really good to hear your voice, I miss you.” Yes, I’m this soppy, deal with it, dear reader.

“I miss you too,” he murmurs affectionately. “Was the flight ok? How is it there?”

“Yeah, just in Wesseling now; the town where we’re staying. We’re heading back to the hotel after grabbing a snack. The flight was chaos and boredom and I’m super sore but I’ll survive,” I sigh happily.

“I’m going to miss kissing you while you’re away. I can’t wait until you’re back.”

You know, I’m almost ready to hail a cab back to the airport just so I can speed that reunion up.

“There’ll be plenty of time for that when I’m home. How was the game?”

“We won, but it wasn’t the same without you there though.”

I glance up and realize we’re almost back at the hotel. “Rick, I gotta go, we’re back now. I’ll talk to you soon, ok? I love you.”

“Love you too Holly, send me a postcard, ok?”

“With bells on, cowboy,” I murmur before I hang up the line.

I catch up to the girls as we arrive back at the riverside.

“Who was that?” Sarah asks. “Parents?”

“Just a friend,” I reply quickly. “Seeing how the trip was.”

“Some friend to call you all the way over in Europe,” Tina observed dryly. The expression on her face said there was more to that remark, but she thankfully kept to her word and remained schtum.

Maybe she does possess a modicum of tact after all.

 

 

There’s a knock on my door a little after ten thirty that evening. I’m already in my jammies and ready for bed. What jammies say you? A sexy nightie? Something silky and just a little frilly? You should know better by now; plain old shorts and an oversized T-shirt. Try to remember I’m attempting to do boy still so I have to behave myself.

I squint through the peephole and spot a certain irritating pixie.

Opening the door, I raise an eyebrow at Tina. “Sup?”

“Can I come in?” she beams sweetly.

I hold the door open and step aside to allow her entry. “What do you want?”

“Talk?” she offers, parking herself on the bed. “I know I’ve been a bit of an ass today but I don’t travel great. I tend to get a bit annoying.”

“Just a little,” I reply with a slight smile, plopping down on a spot at the top end of the bed. “Look, I didn’t mean to lie to you about who I am all those times at the gym. I would understand if you felt like I had betrayed your confidence.”

“What do you mean?” Tina frowned.

“Changing rooms and stuff…”

Tina scoffed and waved her hand dismissively, “I don’t give a fuck about that. You never once acted weird and you aren’t into chicks, not that I’d care. Anyway, you’ve got more than enough of your own that I’ve seen.”

“How do you know I’m not into girls?”

“I’ve been around plenty of lesbians,” she shrugged. You’ve never looked at another girl the way I’ve seen you glance at boys. Plus, I heard you on the phone to Loverboy earlier, whoever that was. There’s no hiding a boyfriend call.”

Hmm, operational security must be tightened.

“Fair enough, yes,” I admit, blushing slightly. “He called and I couldn’t well do that in front of Sarah.”

“Oh, she thinks you’re super gay by the way.”

“Gay?”

Tina nods, “Somehow she’s missed the chick part that keeps slapping her in the face, but she’s convinced you’re a total flamer gayboy.”

I shrug, “I’ve had worse. As long as she thinks I'm a guy that will do, I suppose.”

“So who is he? Loverboy?”

“Do you know Rick Taylor? He plays wide receiver on the football team?”

Tina looks thoughtful for a second and then it clicks. “The tall dark handsome? Wait, how the fuck are you doing better in the dating world than half of the Girls’ Division when you’re not even here yet? That’s just not fair!”

“I didn’t exactly plan it,” I admit, remembering just how hard I fought that particular attraction. “I wasn’t planning to get into any romantic entanglements yet.”

“He is not a bad catch at all.” she nods approvingly. “You’re gonna break a lot of hearts when that comes to light.”

“Great, just what I need,” I roll my eyes. “Start out as the new girl in January and have most of them hate me for being trans AND taking the guy they wanted.”

“I’m sure more than most will be fine with the trans bit… especially as you’re into boys. The team guy bit? More of a problem,” she giggles.

I know she’s playing with me, but it’s not an unreasonable concern. Jealousy do be a vibe sometimes.

“So how do we keep Sarah and the others off my trail?”

“I got her taken care of,” Tina considers. “The others? That’s on you girly. Your bro train is coming off the rails all on its own. If you can manage to keep them fooled this week in a country with an entirely gendered language, then you’re the Queen of Egypt.”

“Shit.”

“Shit indeed,” she grins. “I’ll help where I can, but it’s going to be a big task.”

“I’m glad that I have someone on my side,” I admit. “Thank you, Tina, I really mean it.”

She shakes her head and smiles. “You know, it always seemed so weird that Meg and Kara were such close friends with you but I’d never heard about you before. You didn’t go to our school but you knew so much about it and came to the same Gym on a school day… Even still, I honestly had no idea you were hiding out in boy town until I spotted your ass back in the terminal.”

“Such luck, eh?”

She looks at me and shakes her head, a sly smile spreading across her lips. “I’m sticking around you, Holly Winters; you make shit real interesting.”

God, I was afraid of that.

 

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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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You have to understand that when I packed for this trip, sleepovers were not exactly high on the list of important things to prepare for. Thus, my selection of available night clothing runs to shorts and baggy T-shirts; stuff that can pass for a boy’s if I need it to. With my shaved and rather girly legs, this might be a bit of an issue, even if I add a sweater or hoodie to hide my shape. My only option? Repurpose some sweatpants and hope this all works out ok.

Don’t get me wrong, I really wanted to hang with Tina and the other girls for the duration of this trip, but I know that being seen around so many other girls tends to make people see past the thin veneer of boy. Ugh, dominoes can kiss my delectable ass.

Back in my room, I changed into a pair of sweatpants and grabbed one of the oversized T-shirts that I had been using for sleeping. With a hooded sweatshirt over the top, I felt reasonably shapeless and bulky enough to get the job done. Tucking my hair into the back of the collar, I grabbed my supplies and headed off for a night of paradoxical adventures. I was both looking forward to tonight and dreading it at the same time.

I knocked on Tina’s door a few moments later and it was opened almost immediately. Inside, a grinning blonde devil in shorty PJs was greedily munching a bag of mini pretzels. She waved and hooked her thumb toward the room behind her. “Hey, come on in, macho man.”

I shot her a look as I stepped inside and hefted my offerings. “Looks like you got started early, I see.”

Tina shrugged and rubbed her stomach. “I’m hungry and I could do with growing a little bit.”

This girl is like, five foot two and skinny, she’s not entirely wrong.“Yeah, but you want to grow up, not out.” I indicate, poking her as I pass. “Where’s Sarah?”

Tina shrugged, “She said she was going to grab some stuff downstairs. Chlo and Em are on their way over.”

“I really don’t think this is such a good idea,” I complain. “As fun as it sounds, don’t you think it’s a bit risky?”

Tina made a face and shook her head. “No, not at all. Have some fun, Hol; you only live once. Nobody here would care if they knew anyway. They’re good chicks.”

“If they do care, I’m fucked,” I point out dryly. “If they find out that I’m a girl and have an issue with it then I’ll be exposed to everyone.”

Tina threw a pretzel at me, “Nah, your biggest problem is them being jealous of your boyfriend, I promise.”

I plopped down on her bed and snatched up the thrown pretzel and stuck it in my mouth. “They can be jealous all they want as long as they keep their hands off him. Mister tall, dark, and great ass is all mine.”

She shakes her head and smiles, “I have no idea how these fools can’t see you’re a girl.”

A knock at the door interrupts our conversation and Tina heads off to let the new arrivals in. I make sure I’m sitting back and looking as manly as possible. Basically just spread my legs and slumped. This feels so weird, I don’t know why guys do that.

Chloe and Emma enter with armfuls of snacks. It turns out the porky train had made a few stops today on its way to Gobble Gobble station. Beds are appropriated and snacks are spread out before us. As threatened, everyone is in their pajamas; which given that it’s winter and a hotel, is a variety of T-shirts, shorts, sweatpants, and tank tops. What? Did you expect everyone to be in frilly night dresses or silky chemises? Honestly, I don’t exactly feel entirely out of place, just a tad warm with the hoodie hiding my body.

“My god, have I told you how gorgeous your hair is Alex, why do you never let it down?” Emma asks, stuffing some toffee into her maw. “You always have it tied back and stuffed in your collar. It’s such a shame to hide hair like that.”

Jeez, we’re playing twenty questions already, my favorite. I shrug and try to look disinterested. “I just don’t want it in the way, that’s all.”

“Why not get it cut then?” Chloe asks, “I find my hair such a hassle sometimes but my Mom won’t let me chop it short.”

“You’d look weird with short hair,” Emma chips in, folding her friend’s hair up to mimic a short bob. “Your face would look kinda fat.”

“I don’t think so,” I offer, “Plus, you should do what you want, who cares what others think? I think you’d look really pretty either way.”

See? I’m a smart girl; compliment and encourage Chloe. This distracts her and everyone else from the questions about my own hair. I’m a cunning lil bitch when I want to be.

Chloe gives me an appreciative look, “so why don’t you let it down now? I want to see it.”

Fuck, dodged one missile right into the second.

“Heeeey, anyone for some little pastry things?” Tina asks brightly, waving around a little package of cinnamon-scented delights.

“Sure,” Chloe grins, grabbing one before pivoting her attention back to me. “Come on Alex, please? I want to see how long it is.”

I don’t think I get to dodge this one any longer, let’s hope I can afford a domino or two.

Reluctantly I pull my ponytail out of my collar, slip the tie off it, and let it flop down straight. “There, see?”

Chloe rolls her eyes and scooches over. “No, not like that, you can’t just let it flop, you’ve got to fluff it up like…” She trails off as she fluffs up my long brunette hair, letting it fall around my face, and just stares at me open-mouthed.

“What?” I ask, acting like I don’t know what she’s seeing. Chloe and Emma are staring at me and Tina is trying not to laugh behind them both. I avoid looking at her or I’ll lose my poker face.

“Alex, you’re… no offense, but you’re really cute.”

“Ah, uh, thanks, that’s what every guy wants to hear.” I bluff, crossing my arms defensively.

Chloe shakes her head, “No, I don’t think you understand. Please don’t be offended by this Alex, but you look really cute… for a girl. I thought you looked a bit girly earlier, but wow, like, you’re actually really pretty.”

I turn red, like, cartoon fire truck red. Think rising red level as steam starts pouring out of my ears and a blowoff valve on my head whistles, cartoon red.

“I uh…”

Chloe screws her face up. “God I shouldn’t have said that, it’s probably just your hair, do…”

“No, you’re right though,” Emma adds. “Before in the market, I was convinced that you were some girl that we just never really noticed in class before. When Chloe told me you were in the boys' school, I was like, totally shocked.”

“Guys, come on, you’re embarrassing him,” Tina interjects. “Alex, they’re just joking, you don’t look like a girl.”

At that moment, there’s the sound of a card in the door lock and it swings open to reveal Sarah carrying two bags of soda bottles. “There was a store just down the road I saw last night, it was still open, so we have drinks!” she beams, hip-bumping the door closed behind her and kicking her shoes at the wall. “What are we…”

You know why she stopped talking right? You know exactly why she shut up and just goldfished.

“Oh my god, Alex, you’re a girl… I knew it!”

Fuckiyaki Beef with spring rolls and egg fried rice. Why me? Who did I piss on in a past life to deserve this?

“Uh, no… I’m not,” I gag intelligently. “I’m a boy...”

Sarah places the drinks on the side table and shrugs out of her coat. “No way, nope, that makes so much sense now… the boyfriend, the denials, you never hang around with the guys… your voice, frame, everything. How the hell are you… why are you hiding out as a boy at an all-boys school?”

Jesus tittyfucking Christ, I say again, why me.

Tina steps up and touches her friend’s shoulder, “Hey, Sarah, dial it down. Alex is embarrassed, he’s not a girl.”

“Are you in on this?” she asks her roommate, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “How come you and Alex ran off at the airport?”

“To get coffee, duh.”

“You were late at security, I bet your passport says you’re a girl,” she points out, looking smug.

I rub my eyes and sigh. I don’t think I’m getting out of this one intact, so it’s time to take the reins. “It’s… not that simple but you’re right and you’re wrong.”

“Alex…?” Tina asks uncertainly.

“It’s ok Tina,” I shrug. “I don’t think I get out of this without the truth. I told you coming tonight was a stupid idea.”

“You sure?” she asks again, balling her fists like she’s ready to take them all on. It’s weird seeing someone so tiny turn into a protector all of a sudden. She turns to the others and glares. “What Alex is going to say goes no further than this room, got it? Like, pain of death, got it?”

“Sure,” Chloe shrugs uncertainly, glancing around at the others. Emma nods and Sarah frowns but gives her assent as well. The whole room turns to look at me and I can feel a bead of sweat roll right between my shoulder blades.

With a sigh, I haul the hoodie over my head and finger-brush my hair. I sit upright and open my posture. “I am a girl, but it’s not that simple,” I admit.

There’s a couple of gasps as people take in Holly and realize they had been totally wrong, but right, but also wrong, but also right… you know what I mean.

“How are you in the boys' school?” Chloe asks, disbelievingly, “Is this some prank?”

And now I ruined the brief moment where I was just another girl. “Because,” I sigh, “technically I am; I’m transgender.”

“You want to be a boy?” Emma asks, “Why?”

I’d laugh if that was the first time I’d heard that. Trust me, It happens a lot more in life when you actually look like the sex you identify as and people find out that you’re trans. It’s probably the weirdest when doctors do it; oh boy they get a surprise.

“No, I was born a… boy,” I admit sheepishly. “I’m not one though… I couldn’t… be one.”

“Holly was born a boy, but she’s a girl like us in her heart and soul,” Tina Interjects. “She’s transitioning, which means she’s taking hormones, which is why she looks like us. She’s transferring to our school at the start of the semester, they’re making her finish this one out with the boys. That means she has to stay undercover as Alex till she can get out.”

“Oh my god, that explains the boyfriend,” Sarah breathes. “I knew I heard that right… no wonder you were dodging my questions, sorry!”

“Your name is Holly?” Chloe asks, “That’s really pretty.”

I nod. “It’s what my Mom and Dad were going to name me if I had been born a girl… like I was meant to be. I chose to keep it because that’s who I’m meant to be; their daughter.”

“That’s sweet,” she agrees. Her face changes as she realizes what started all this mess. “Oh god, I’m sorry… the hair thing… I didn’t mean to. Oh, and I said you were so… wait, that’s not an insult, is it?”

I chuckle for the first time in this landmine-infested conversation and smile. “No, not to me. Thanks for that, actually.”

“So like, none of them know, at all?” Emma asks.

“No,” I shake my head. “Well, not true, but it’s limited. Our teachers do, and yes, I had an issue at immigration.” I roll my eyes. “They thought my boy’s passport was wrong.”

“No shit,” Sarah admitted, raising her eyebrows.

“Hang on, you said boyfriend. Does he go to our school?” Chloe asks, zeroing in on the hot gossip like a laser beam.

“Uh, maybe?” I concede.

“Oh, she blushes!” Emma giggles. “Go on, who? You’ve got to tell us!”

“I don’t know if I want to say,” I shrug, feeling the heat boil out of my ears. “I’m… it’s still kinda new.”

“Ok, well… this needs some investigation.” Chloe grinned. “No names, but we do have questions.”

“And snacks,” Tina pointed out, offering a bag of fudge.

“Oh, the drinks!” Sarah slaps her forehead. “I totally forgot them in the whole ‘Alex is a girl,’ business.”

“Is he cute?” Emma asks slyly. “I know you don’t want to say who, but you have to tell us some about him.”

I smile as I think about Rick. “He’s kind and considerate; always putting me first. Gorgeous, strong. I feel so… special whenever he’s around.”

“Yup, she’s a girl alright.” Chloe giggles. “He sounds like a real treat.”

“So, like how did you know?” Emma asked the sixty-four thousand dollar question.

“That I’m a girl?” I furrow my brow. “How did you know?”

Emma makes a face, “I dunno; I just am.”

“Kinda the same,” I admit. “Ever since I knew there was a difference, I just knew I was meant to be on this side. It didn’t make sense. I had boy parts and to my parents, I was their son Alex. It never felt right… like wearing clothes meant for someone else; it felt awkward, ill-fitting, wrong.”

“That must be so weird,” she admits.

“Now imagine that nobody else can see the weird clothes that don’t fit. That restricts your movement, makes you feel swamped and uncomfortable all the time. They change everything you do; make it harder, separate you from sensation and feeling. Now imagine that everyone else fits theirs just fine.”

“Surprisingly easy to understand,” Sarah concedes. “That sounds like shit.”

“I’ve known Holly for a few months,” Tina admits, drawing everyone else’s attention. “We first met at Skyline, the gym thing school offers. She was joining me and the Byrne sisters for a doubles game and we ended up playing most weeks. Always thought she was a childhood friend of theirs that went to a different school.”

She looked at me and smiled, “You can imagine my surprise when I turned up at the airport and saw her tomboy ass lurking with the boy’s class.”

“I didn’t mean to lie,” I smile apologetically. “It was just nice being a normal girl for once… not, different.”

“Nah you didn’t lie,” she shrugs. “Technically you never once told me anything that wasn’t true. I would have done the same thing in your shoes.”

I got a whole bunch of questions from the girls that you’ve heard me answer before. Why do I have boobs? When did I know? What does the boys' bathroom smell like… the usual things. I do my best to answer them all as well as possible.

Thankfully the conversation eventually turns away from me, if you can possibly imagine that. I think that somehow I’ve survived this one. I have no idea why, but I think I lucked out here; four girls know about me and are seemingly ok about it.

I don’t really know Chloe or Emma, but they do seem genuinely nice. If Tina is cool with them then I guess they’re good. Sarah still feels like a wildcard, but time will tell. The cat is out of the bag and causing chaos, so I guess I have to make a thing out of this and see how it goes.

I accept a glass of soda from Sarah and drink deeply. The truth, it seems, is very thirsty work. Someone turned on the TV to a crappy movie. It’s in German, so we aren’t really paying that much attention. Now that I’m not quite such a major topic, we dive into the snackfest properly.

Sitting here hanging with these girls is actually really fun. Sure, we’re pigging out and chatting about literally anything and everything, but for once I don’t feel any pressure. Maybe trying to be Alex for this long now is actually hard for me? I haven’t actually been him for more than seven or eight hours in a row in months. Was it really October when I came out? God.

“Were you there last week? God, it was such a good game!” Emma enthuses. “The guys were on fire, they totally dominated. Johnson and Winters on the defense didn’t let a thing get past them.”

Tina snorts, “I don’t think she’s put two and two together yet.”

For once, I actually giggle along myself. “No, I don’t think she has.”

“What?”

“Who was that you were talking about?”

Emma frowns. “Kyle Johnson and Rob Winters, the linebacker and corner guard?”

“Wait, your last name is Winters, isn’t it?” Sarah interjects slightly faster than her friend.

“Wait, you’re related to Rob Winters?” Emma blinks. “But he has a little… Oh.”

“Cool transition from back handspring to foot in mouth there Em,” Chloe giggles before her face changes to shock. “Wait, now I know why I thought you were a girl when we first met! I remember seeing you at the games! You’re always with Megan and Kara Byrne. You three were always together and I just… assumed.”

“Ah, yep. I’m amazing at pulling off boy,” I smirk. “Rob’s my big brother, I always came to games to support him.”

“I don’t know how I didn’t put two and two together sooner.” Emma shakes her head. “Yeah, that’s it… wow, I had no idea.”

“You had no idea because you hit your head on too many landings.” Chloe snerks. At my blank look, she smiles. “We’re on the cheer squad, JV members.”

Who’da guessed it, me being tight with cheerleaders. Before you even think about hinting that I might try out for the squad next semester, this isn’t one of those billion trans-fiction adventures, so get your disappointment out of the way now.

And so it was that I ended up sharing a snack-filled evening with four of my future classmates. How the hell did I end up here? I’m thousands of miles from home and I couldn’t manage to keep myself hidden for a few measly days.

Honestly? I’m somewhat relieved. It was one thing to have the teachers know, but it’s another to have some peers that I can share myself with. This semester cannot be over fast enough, but I’m glad I’ll have more than Kara and Meg when I start next semester.

Thankfully, we chatted about far more inconsequential things than my messed-up self. Getting included in conversations about fashion, music, and boys was truly refreshing. Sure, I had gotten to have these conversations with the sisters, but those two were practically MY sisters. This felt more normal somehow… there was no secret here. Honestly, we were having such a good time, we kinda forgot to go to bed… yeah, all of us.

 

 

I woke up feeling a lot more tired than normal and with a pressing urge to pee. I was in a hotel room, but I was reasonably sure that it wasn’t mine. There was another body sleeping close to me and I was far too warm. Cracking an eye, I was met with an unfamiliar pillow. Turning my head, I spotted Tina, stretched out and fast asleep beside me, and from the feel of it, someone’s foot was on the back of my neck.

“What time is it?” A voice croaked from somewhere on the other side of the pile of bodies.

“Six,” someone groaned, “I need to pee.”

The bed shifted and footsteps padded away. I pulled some hair out of my mouth and cracked an eye. My view? Blonde hair.

I stretched, removed the leg, and rolled over, falling off the bed in the process. The jolt woke me far more successfully than I had imagined.

You did count correctly earlier, there were indeed only two beds. At some point during the night, both had been pushed together to make a better picnic space and as such, all five of us ended up curled up in various blankets and pillows in a general heap.

Pulling myself to my feet, I padded towards the bathroom and passed a sleepy-looking Chloe on the way. “Morning,” I murmured, stifling a yawn.

Chloe grunted something unintelligible in return and made her way back toward the bed. Diving into the bathroom, I closed the door and dropped my sweats before slumping onto the toilet seat. Vent procedure complete, I redressed and returned to the main room.

Other than Tina, who was miraculously still face down in a pillow, most everyone else was awake and either upright or in the process of redressing. No, none of us were naked, but various extra clothing got ditched during the night. It turns out a pile of bodies is quite warm.

“I’m going to head back to my room,” I offer, grabbing my hoodie. “See you all at breakfast?”

Receiving a general murmur of agreement from some of the heaps of flesh, I let myself out of the room. The corridor was thankfully quiet, so I scuttled back along the corridor to my own room in relative anonymity. Sure, being seen leaving a girl's room might be bro cred, but It’s also attention I’d rather avoid. Plus, who would actually believe that I had slept with a girl?

Once I’m back and safe behind the locked door, I’m able to properly go about my morning routine. My mouth feels like a hamster died in it after going to bed without brushing my teeth, so that’s my first port of call. After that, well, you don’t care for me to describe showering and washing of smelly bits, do you? No? Good, I wasn’t going to, you perverts.

Once I’m clean, I throw on a fresh pair of panties and a sports bra before dressing in my usual Alex drab of jeans, tee, and sweatshirt before shoving my feet into my Rans. With a final check, I stuck my keycard in my pocket and headed for the restaurant.

I got down to breakfast a little before seven and the place was still largely empty. After grabbing my food, I looked around to see who I could recognize from our group that was braving the early hour. Other than two guys I didn’t know, I spotted Chloe and Emma already sitting with their food. How the hell did they manage to make it down here so fast?

A little part of me told me that I should sit by myself or join the boys for the sake of my cursed masquerade. The louder voice, however, Holly’s voice, told me to just sit with my friends; who the hell even cared anyway? Decision made, I walked over with my head held high.

“Hey guys,” I smiled, taking a seat beside them. I’m pretty sure waking up in the same bed earns me a modicum of casual familiarity.

“Hey,” Chloe replied with more joy than I felt. “Last night was epic, wasn’t it?”

“It was pretty fun,” I conceded. “Though sleeping with someone’s foot on my head was kinda new.”

“She tosses and turns like crazy,” Emma rolled her eyes. “She’s been like that since kindergarten.”

“You two have known each other a long time then?”

Chloe nods, “Yeah, we were doing sleepovers and stuff almost our entire lives, we even did dance class together.”

“I think I can count last night as my first proper one,” I admit, taking a bite out of my Brötchen. It was kinda neat.”

“Your first? oh...” Emma caught on quicker than I’d expected. “Well cool! Glad we could be a part of your cherry pop experience.”

“Speaking of that, you never did tell us who it is that you’re dating,” Chloe leered playfully.

I rolled my eyes, “Who died and made you Sarah?”

Emma snickered at that comment, “She can be a little bit of a terrier at times, but her dad’s Chief of Police, so that’s no surprise really.”

“I’m just defensive about everything at the moment.” I sigh. “Plus Tina kinda joked that people might hate me more for who I’m dating than what I… am.”

“Oh she probably didn’t mean anything by it,” Chloe shrugs. “It’s got to be weird though for you... He goes to our school, right?”

“Yeah, it’s how we kinda fell into… whatever this is,” I admit. “I kept trying to deny my feelings for him and avoid it. All the while, he kept trying to be friends with me and we clicked. Somehow, I couldn’t resist catching feelings. It turns out that at the same time that I was trying to deny how I felt, so was he. The only difference was I was giving him a crisis of sexuality.”

“How do you mean?” Emma asks, sipping her coffee, enraptured by my revelations.

“I knew I was a girl, and that he was a boy,” I explain, glancing around to make sure we’re not being overheard. “I wasn’t particularly worried about being attracted to a boy.”

“Based on what he told me, his eyes saw a boy, but his mind and heart somehow knew that I was a girl. He started falling for me without consciously realizing what was happening. By the time he did, he was struggling with the idea that he was attracted to a boy.”

“Until he didn’t,” Chloe finishes with a grin. “That’s really freaking adorable.”

I nod, and my stomach does that little romantic flip-flop thing I’ve come to really cherish. “I never knew that loving a guy could feel so normal or so wonderful; being his girl, it feels… right.”

“What’s right?” Tina asks abruptly as she drops down on my other side, shortly followed by Sarah. “Morning ladies.”

“We were just discussing who someone is dating,” Chloe grinned conspiratorially. “A certain chica is being coy.”

“I mean, I would,” Tina nodded her agreement. “One that fine? She’s going to have a lot of jealous rivals come January.”

“God, I want to know who it is so badly,” Sarah groaned.

Does it really matter? They like me, they won’t care, right? Why am I afraid to say? A hold-over of Alex, let it go, girl…

I take a long draught of my coffee and swallow before placing the cup back on the table. “Rick Taylor.”

“Rick Taylor what?” Emma asks with a frown that turns rapidly to a look of shock. “No freaking way!”

“Yes way,” I hiss. “Inside voices perhaps?”

“Oh my god, he is beyond gorgeous, I totally approve,” Chloe beams. “That guy is so fine.”

“Yeah, Tina mentioned his unavailability might break a few hearts.”

“Not half,” she cackled. “He’s up there with your brother and Carson for top hotties on the team.”

I make a face, “Can we not put my brother on a pedestal like that? At least not while I’m eating. Plus he’s taken too.”

“He is?” Emma asked, a look of regret flashing across her face. “And uh… sorry.”

Thankfully breakfast conversation diverts away from my love life to other topics of far more mundane scope. The restaurant is starting to get busier, so it was probably wise that we kept this one in more discreet environs. The weirdest part is the girls have switched to Alex and male pronouns almost seamlessly, I’m rather impressed actually.

“Listen up everyone, I don’t want to have to repeat myself,” Frau Whistler announced loudly, immediately silencing the horde of excitable teens in the hotel lobby.

“Today will have a slightly slower pace than yesterday, but we will have some free time for you this afternoon to shop in Bonn. We’re making a historical stop first at the House of the History of the Federal Republic of Germany and yes, while I know this might be a little dry for some of you but we will be visiting the Christmas market down in Bonn after lunch. Right! Everyone off to your rooms, I want you down here ready to go in fifteen minutes!”

Dispatched, we scurried off about our ways like a horde of rats. Teenagers getting organized is a mess at the best of times, now? Well, it’s a blessing we get anything done at all. I didn’t take long to get myself sorted because Alex drag is super easy; I was already in it. I grabbed my bag, my camera, and my coat and scooted off downstairs.

“Alex, can I have a word?”

I look over and spot Frau Whistler standing with Herr Norton to one side of the lobby, both looking a little weird.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Ah, I don’t quite… how should I put this,” Herr Norton starts out, blushing. Danger Holly Winters, Danger.

“We overheard a student mention that you were seen leaving a girl’s room this morning,” Frau Whistler continued, raising her eyebrow. “I’m sure there’s an innocent explanation, given… certain circumstances. Nothing untoward occurred, right?”

Well, this is awkward. On a scale of one to ten, it’s a solid fifteen and I turn bright pink on the spot. “No ma’am, nothing at all… that’s… gosh, no.”

She smiles and gives Herr Norton a glance that seems to read, ‘I told you so.’

“Ma’am, nothing remotely inappropriate happened. We were… ah… hanging out, and we all just fell asleep.”

“Miss Booth and Miss Appleton’s room I presume,” she raises an eyebrow. “I assume this means that there are new members of the circle. Who else?”

“Yes ma’am, Sarah obviously,” I admit, “Chloe Johnson and Emma Newman too, Ma’am.”

“No problems?” Herr Norton chips in, “Nothing we need to worry about?”

“No sir, everything is fine, they’re really great.”

“Ok, on your way then,” Frau Whistler offered, dismissing me to join the others now arriving in the lobby.

Well, that was embarrassing, but hey, when is anything ever simple in my life? I expect if someone saw me this will be mentioned today. At least I’m now aware of it and not on the back foot. For once I might be prepared.

“What was all that about?” one of the guys, Danny Masters, smirks as I leave our educators behind. “You in trouble now, Winters?”

“Probably about him being caught in some girl’s room.” a guy next to Gary chips in. “I heard Pete mention it at breakfast.”

“And what are you getting up to in there, Winters?”

I smile politely and I quickly evaluate my situation. Teachers in close proximity, risk of pounding is low. Must distract in boyspeak to remove any suspicion of Holly. Situation: ripe for a low blow. “Well, your mom wasn’t available Danny, I had to improvise.”

I dart off before he can remember to be pissed off. The trail of laughter behind me lets me know his mates have turned on him now. Do I sail too close to the wind sometimes? Yes, but it sure as hell distracts attention from me. I’ve learned to be an expert deflector over the years.

The journey out to the history museum wasn’t particularly long; Just like heading into Cologne, it was about twelve miles with the usual city traffic, so we were parking outside the modern structure about forty-five minutes later. German city traffic is as bad as ours it turns out, who knew?

The museum told the story of Germany after the Second World War. Now most Americans I’m sure know that period of history pretty well, or at least, the high school version; war in Europe, America arrived and saved the day. Obviously, it’s a lot more complicated than that and nowhere near as clean-cut.

This place told the story of the post-war recovery of Germany, the Cold War, and the eventual reunification of Germany into the state it is today. It was humbling and it was honest without any punches being pulled. Its overall modern aesthetic also served to tell us history in a far less stuffy way. It used pop culture and props to really drive home the changes. Despite Frau Whistler’s warnings about stuffy history, it seemed most everyone was highly engaged.

After a brief stop at the gift shop, our horde reboarded the coach and departed towards the center of the city and the Christmas markets beyond. Want me to describe more of those? Nah, you’ve been to one, you’ve been to a hundred. It was quite different from Cologne, but it was also incredibly similar. It did allow us to stock up on treats and various foods that we had since hoovered. Whoops.

Did I just buy food? Of course not. The markets contained plenty of crafts and unique products offered for sale, most of course, with a seasonal theme. Still on the lookout for suitable gifts, I managed to score big with a couple of real winners.

I found a great big wooden nutcracker shaped like the classic soldier for Dad. For Chrissie, I found a beautiful wooden carved figure of a girl in a red cape and a white dress holding a wicker basket wrapped in holly and ivy in her arms. The cute part? The basket was hollowed out to hold a stubby little candle. Neat, suitcase-suitable, and uniquely German; I was on a fine run here.

Our second day in Deutschland was more relaxed than my first two, but only slightly. Was I getting myself into more trouble now that more people knew about me? Absolutely, but at the same time, it hadn’t spread further and my friends accepted me as one of them, what more could I ask?

The truth was, I was likely sailing far closer to the wind than was realistically sensible, but what teenager can remain objective one hundred percent of the time? I couldn’t live the life of a penitent nun, all while watching my friends have the times of their lives. Nobody could manage to remain perfect through all of that. I just had to manage when I let Holly out.

I know it must sound insane, but being the boy I had outwardly presented as for years was very difficult now. It was exhausting and it was physically draining to keep up the mask. Having let Holly out of the bag and allowed myself to grow as my real self, had separated me from an act I had played so well. This trip, even for a few days, had thrust me into far more Alex time than I had been experiencing at home. Being Holly with a few friends even for a short while was a pressure relief valve.

“Oh my god, I heard, like, amazing stuff about this Pimkie place from my pen pal, we totally gotta go check it out!” Emma enthused, dragging Chloe towards what appeared to be a high-street fashion emporium. We had been given some shopping time after the markets to explore Bonn as long as we promised not to get into too much trouble.

Fat chance.

“Coming?” Tina asked, slowing down to walk beside me.

I eyed the place and shrugged sadly, “Nah. I would love to, but... reasons.”

“Nobody would notice,” she pointed out. “Live a little, girl.”

Really, I did want to, but I also knew that it would be the one time someone I knew would see me.

“Nah, another time.” I defer, spotting a fitting excuse. “I think I’ll pop in there and get something for Rob, I have a decent idea of what to get for him.”

“A toy shop?” Tina queried, raising an eyebrow. “Getting him a dolly?”

“Kinda,” I grin.

The toy store I had spotted is massive. This place is spread over several floors and seems to carry literally everything you could possibly imagine, from plushies through to video games. The interior was like a child’s fantasy land with massive displays and the German favorite, Playmobil everywhere, even life-sized!

I wandered around aimlessly staring at the incredible displays of model trains and dolls feeling a little nostalgic. Hey look, I may be a girl, but I’m still a nerd, and nerdy stuff does interest me.

On the third floor, I found what I had been looking for; scale models. See, one thing you don’t know about my brother dearest is that he loves airplanes. Like Dad, he’s obsessed with the things. He doesn’t talk about it in school because he thinks people would call him a geek, but I genuinely believe he might actually have a future in aviation.

While I had gotten the others various German gifts, I wanted to get Rob something special; a model airplane in the German airline Lufthansa’s colors. Dad might be an aeronautical engineer who specializes in military projects, but Rob wants to be an airline pilot. I’m pretty sure he will be really happy if I can find him something appropriate.

A quick look past the various model kits and train sets and I find a selection of diecast models of various aircraft from the dawn of time through to the modern era. After a few minutes of searching, I find a Jumbo Jet in the blue, white, and yellow of the German flag carrier. It’s a little pricey at fifty Euros, but I think Rob will love it.

A voice behind me makes me jump, clutching the box to my chest. “I thought that was you.”

I blink up at Gary and swallow, “Uh, hi.”

Gary shoves his hands in his pockets and nods at the airplane in my hands. “Thought you’d be over the road with those girls. I’ve barely seen you apart since we got here.”

“You got a problem with that?” I frown, straightening up and giving him a death glare.

“That’s not as intimidating as you think it is,” he chuckles. His look shifts and I can’t quite read it for a moment.

“I was getting Rob a gift if you must know.” I point out, waggling the airliner, hoping that invoking the violent wall of brother might remind him of the threat that has kept him quiet.

“I figured,” he shrugs. “Airplanes aren’t really your thing, are they princess?”

I elevate the death scowl to level two. “Don’t call me princess, Gary.”

Gary, in his defense, steps back and holds up his hands, recognizing my look is one or two levels below significant risk to his blood supply. “Easy, ok? I’m sorry. I don’t know when you became so touchy about shit, dude.”

“Are you going to get out of my way so I can get back to my friends?”

There’s almost a pained look on his face, but he complies and moves out of my way.

“Thank you,” I murmur acidly as I pass by him, not even giving him the satisfaction of looking at him.

I leave him behind me and don’t give him the satisfaction of looking back. Being alone with him like that felt different now; colder. I’m not sure how to talk to someone that I know doesn’t like me as a person. Once, we were good friends and I would never have considered being afraid of him. Now? Gary is physically stronger than me and he holds power over my ability to remain hidden. If I hadn’t been so emboldened by our being in a public place like this I might have acquiesced and placated him.

I pay for Rob’s gift and head straight across the street to where the girls are still tearing apart the clothing store. Frustrated at Gary’s words, I head inside without even a pause to reevaluate my decision. Who does he even think he’s calling Princess?

 

There will be a one week break for Christmas due to my traveling to see family. I will resume posting Fake It on the first week of 2025!! Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, io Saturnalia, or however you vibe. See you soon, it's only going to get way better!
Alyssa.

 

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

 

 

I rolled out of bed a little after six on Wednesday morning. Yes, it was my own bed this time, before you ask. Truth be told, between an early night and a busy day, I had slept like a proverbial log. There was really only so long I could lie in the warm embrace of my duvet before I had to prepare to join humanity.

Outside, the dark ribbon of the Rhine passed by my window on its way north toward the Netherlands and the North Sea beyond. The little bits of land I could see had a light coating of white this morning. Out in the swirling flakes, a huge barge struggled upstream, a tugboat working hard behind it. Fighting an unending current… hmm, that felt particularly familiar.

Feeling a little stinky this morning, I decided to wash my hair and enjoy a luxurious hot shower. By the time I was finished, every nook and cranny was squeaky clean, hair-free, and totally moisturized. If I have to dress up as Alex, at least underneath, I can be comfortable as myself. If my calculations were correct, today marked the start of my ninth remaining day of playing boy; it really couldn’t come soon enough. I was beyond ready to see the back of Alex Winters.

My boobs were itching again; a sure sign they were up to no good in the dimensions department. For anyone reading this who has never had the opportunity to grow their own breasts, they tend to get a little itchy and tender when they’re first developing. For me, it came and went for the first couple of years and was always a sure sign of growth. Well, at least this time that wasn’t a potential exposure risk. Finally being able to feel happy about my developing body was extremely liberating.

For the first six or so months of my hormonal journey, I had been prevented from feeling joy at my changing body. It was all a risk; a terrible risk of exposure. I couldn’t feel pride or excitement when it was all possibly a bridge too far. Wait, was that on the Rhine too? Quite possibly my most prophetic joke ever.

After a quick and unladylike scratch of said appendages, I trussed the troublesome things up in a sports bra and shrugged into a tight T-shirt. I’m starting to become convinced that by trying to compress and hide the girls during their growth, that I somehow managed to offend them. Enough at least, to want to take revenge on my spine later in life. Maybe it’s like putting your foot on a hosepipe? You hold the water back and it blows up like a balloon… I think my breasts ended up getting the same idea.

Today’s uniform of dreariness was a pair of army green cargo pants and my old favorite Blitzkrieg Flop hoodie with a pair of Inverse sneakers. Add to that my gloves, hat, and winter coat and it was boring, boyish, and best of all, rather warm. Other than the mighty river, the land I could see was starting to attract the sky’s white stuff with growing eagerness. It was likely to be a rather chilly one and according to our teachers, we would be spending a good portion of the day outside.

Breakfast was a pretty exciting affair as a horde of teenagers, most of whom were generally unfamiliar with snow, got to see the growing winter wonderland for the first time outside the hotel windows. With their usual efficiency, our educators had us wrangled and dispatched to prepare for the day’s misadventures. Twenty minutes later, we piled aboard the bus and waited for Frau Whistler to address our assembled horde.

“Listen up people, this is going to be a day involving a few logistical moments so I want your full and undivided attention. We have nudged a few things around due to the weather, but we also think it’s perfect for something we had for today regardless and the company has informed us they’re still running so… listen closely, Michael.”

“Why are you singling me out Frau Whistler?”

Our teacher stared at the unfortunate youth with a look that simply oozed ‘I am responsible for you, but I wish I could abandon you in the mountains.’ It’s a testament to her quality as an educator that she held her tongue.

“Today, we are heading down past Remagen to the Brohl Valley where we will ride on the Vulkan Express. It’s a little, narrow-gauge railway that runs up into the Eifel Mountains and originally brought material from quarries down to the River Rhine. It's about fifteen kilometers in length and we will be stopping for lunch at the halfway point in a town called Oberzissen. Our afternoon will see us head into the city of Koblenz.”

She paused, to ensure we took everything in. “I’ll need you to make sure you’re on your best behavior with today’s timings, everyone. The better you are, the longer we will have for lunch and this afternoon in Koblenz. Anyone that screws around will spend the afternoon with myself and Herr Norton. I promise you will not prefer that option… Michael.”

“What did I do?”

There were murmurings of amusement from the assembled masses and Michael Davis was notably silent. It turns out that even he can listen when he wants to.

Our driver was the same guy from the previous day's outings and while he was no Michael Schumacher, he was more than efficient at navigating the beast of a bus through the busy local traffic. One thing I can say with certainty is that European roads are much narrower than ones back home. Then again, so are many of the people!

Oh, go on, admit it; you laughed.

Around an hour later, we arrived at the little train station in the town of Brohl-Lützing and were ushered out of our transport and across to the little station’s platform. The snow was relatively undisturbed here and it was bitterly cold now that we were out in the open. Despite my coat, I was really starting to shiver by the time our train finally came chugging along the tracks.

Our ride for the morning clanked and squealed to a halt in front of us. It consisted of three small red and cream vintage coaches pulled by an adorable little green Diesel locomotive. This was no Amtrak beast, but rather something I’d expect to find under a department store Christmas tree. Like old tourist trains back home, the coaches were boarded from open platforms at each end and seated around twenty a car on wooden bench seating. It seemed that today the service was a private booking for just us. That meant we were able to spread ourselves out a little throughout the three coaches.

“Come sit with me Alex,” Chloe called out, waving me over to join her towards the tail end of the second carriage.

“It’s damn freezing in here,” I frowned, rubbing my gloved hands together to generate anything approximating heat. “I think I’m going to die of exposure.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” the blonde chided with a chilly-looking grin of her own. “They have little log burners going in each car anyway, it will warm up in no time, probably.”

“So you say,” I counter dryly, feeling my spirit shiver. “But my toes don’t quite hear you.”

Chloe’s response was an eye roll. I don’t know why people don’t take me seriously, honestly.

The carriage did start to warm up eventually as it pulled out of the station. Sure, it wasn’t the summer steam train service, but the view from the windows was spectacular nonetheless. In no time at all, we were clanking and rattling our way up the Brohl Valley in the little train.

“It’s beautiful; almost like a postcard,” Chloe mused, watching the snowflakes falling outside the windows. “It feels so surreal when you think that we’re actually here in Germany, you know?”

“I know what you mean,” I smile. “It really makes the whole class mean something…more.”

“Probably why they make us come here,” she agreed.

Chloe and I watch the snow outside the train window for a few minutes without speaking. All around us excited teens were taking photographs and chatting away with each other as we rattle along the rails. I’ll give them credit, this is a pretty awesome experience on top of an amazing week so far.

“Thank you,” I began, squeezing Chloe’s hand out of sight of the others. “for the whole me thing. Thank you for being cool about stuff…”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she frowns, turning away from the window to face me.

It’s not a bad question, in all honesty. In an ideal world, why wouldn’t she be cool about this? It doesn’t affect her and it’s just common human decency to treat someone with respect. It’s a sad testament to our world that I feel the urge to thank her for treating me like a human being.

“I don’t know, but many aren’t,” I shrug. While we have a little privacy with the rattling noise of the train, I’m not entirely comfortable being explicit about this topic in front of others.

Chloe reached over, squeezed my hand, and winked, “I’m very glad I met you, ‘Alex’.”

Here’s me thinking how much I needed to hide myself from people on this trip. As it happens, I’ll be starting at the Girls’ Division in January with seven or so girls who support me and know me as Holly; that’s a pretty good start. Having four in Germany alone is a real boon to my case.

By the time we pulled into the small station at Oberzissen, the snow was looking a lot more persistent than it had when we had first departed. In fact, the cleared road was starting to pick up a fairly reasonable coating of snow as it ran down the hill and across the railroad tracks. Having departed the train, the crowd on the platform started to slowly drift away in all directions as any group of unsupervised adolescents are want to do. Before any of us could manage to get too lost, Frau Whistler well… whistled, loudly.

“Everyone, stick together! We’re heading across the road to the restaurant here to get lunch and some much-needed hot chocolate before we head back down,” our educator announced, shepherding her flock in the general direction of town. “You can take photos later, let’s get inside and out of this cold before I have to ship any of you home in the refrigerator, ok?”

Across the main road from the little station was a long single-story restaurant set back slightly from the road. Compared to the arctic chill in the air, Grill-Restaurant Gasper seemed incredibly attractive, even if its name was a little on the breathy side.

“Come on, we want to get a good table,” Chloe insisted, grabbing me by the elbow. “If we’re not quick Tina will have cleaned them out before we get there.”

I was snickering at her remark when I felt my foot slide beneath me on a patch of ice on the paving. Do you know that lurch in your stomach when you feel yourself falling? That’s the one. Thankfully my ninja reflexes, honed over years of dodging beatings, allowed me to grab hold of her before I went ass over tit on a patch of icy snow.

“This is super sketchy Chlo, please slow down or I’m going to eat crap before we get there.”

Fate truly possesses expert comedic timing. If it were a person, I would suspect it of purposefully having a pair of jokers up its sleeve. The second I opened my big mouth, a chain of events began that would have felt prophetic if my young life hadn’t flashed before my very eyes.

“Sheiße! Wooaah bugger, look out!” A high-pitched voice yelled desperately, accompanied by the distinctive sound of squealing bicycle brakes and sliding tires.

I had just enough time to yank Chloe backward before a small missile on a bike came sliding past us. Bike and rider skidded sideways, wobbled precariously, and flipped over the guardrail separating the platform from the road a few feet below.

“Holy shit,” Chloe breathed, her eyes wide, “what the hell was that?”

I shook my head uncertainly, I wasn’t entirely sure myself. Cautiously, I approached the rail to look for the errant blur. Thankfully, the drop was only perhaps five feet or so, and both rider and bike were embedded in a snowbank.

Carefully, we scramble down and make our way over, just in time to find the snow-covered rider sitting up and brushing the white stuff from their jacket.

“Das war nicht der Plan.” The figure spluttered, “Bloody hell.”

I glanced at Chloe uncertainly before offering the figure a hand out of the snow. “Hey, uh, miss, are you ok? uh, “Alles ok, Fräulein?"

“Ja, gut… I’m fine,” The rider offered, making a face before she looked up curiously. “Wait, American?”

Chloe nodded, “We’re on a school trip, do you want us to call you an ambulance, or our teachers?”

The girl shook her head, sending snow flying from her cycle helmet. “I’ll be fine, I think, but my front wheel’s propper had it,” she sighed.

“I’ll go get Frau Whistler,” Chloe offered, tottering off to go find our glorious leader.

The rider, it turned out, was a petite blonde around Tina’s size wrapped up in winter cycling clothing which, at that moment, was covered in the ever present white stuff.

“How come you’re up here? This is the middle of nowhere!” the girl asked, pulling herself to her feet rather unsteadily.

“Uh, train,” I offered, gesturing up at the platform over yonder. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“I’ve had worse,” she shrugged as she dusted off her steed. “Everything’s still attached, as far as I know.”

“How come you sound British?” I query suspiciously.

The girl grinned, “probably because I am; we moved here last year.”

Chloe chose that moment to return with Frau Whistler. “Bist du verletzt, Fräulein?”

“I’m fine really, I promise. Just a busted wheel on the bike and a bit of a bump.”

“She’s British,” I offer to my teacher.

Frau Whistler’s eyebrows go up. “Ah, well, ok then. No ambulance needed I suppose. You really should come inside and dry off, honey, you look soaked to the bone.”

“I’ll need to call my dad,” the girl admitted, hauling a sleek racing bike behind her. “Might as well, cheers.”

We made it inside the restaurant and I was immediately hit by just how warm it was out of the arctic blast outside. The small blonde lent her bike against the wall and wandered over to the bar to speak to one of the waitresses in rapid German. A moment later, the employee handed her a telephone and she began dialing.

“Who is she?” Chloe asked.

“No clue,” I shrugged. “Some Brit chick that moved over here apparently. She seems amazingly not bothered after nailing that barrier.”

“I’ve seen worse landings at regionals,” she giggled. “Coming?”

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I shake my head. “Can you grab me a hot chocolate, please?”

Chloe shoots me a thumbs up and heads for the table where the others are busy warming themselves. After a cursory search, I find the bathrooms down a side corridor and let myself in. Like most that I’ve found so far in Germany, they’re spotlessly clean. It makes a change to back home for sure and one I’m grateful for. I find myself a stall and get to work. Whilst I’m doing my business, I hear the outer door bang as another person enters.

I’ve never been particularly fond of public restrooms as you can imagine. Ever since I started hormones it’s gotten far worse and I try to avoid them where possible. Right now I’m hungry and cold, and I’d rather not wait for them to leave so I flush and head for the sinks.

As I wash my hands, I marvel at my reflection in the mirror. The old looking-glass has always been a bit of a two-headed monster for me; I look far more female than I ever expected I would, and that fills me with more joy than you can possibly imagine. One of the downsides of the beast named dysphoria, however, is that I still see elements of Alex that nobody else possibly ever will.

The girl looking back is just that; a girl. The ironic part is that I’m still trying to be him. I think Alex truly died that day I hit the dining room floor at school. In many ways, I’m a new person now; Holly unchained.

I’m snapped from my introspection when a toilet flushes behind me and a cubicle latch slides. Color me flabbergasted when the bike girl appears.

She looks momentarily surprised to see me, then seems to just shrug and joins me at the sink. I glance past her and spot the row of urinals confirming we are, in fact, in the boys' room.

“So you’re on a school trip, right?” she asks casually, giving me a heavy dose of side-eye.

“Uh, yeah,” I agree, more than a little confused myself. “Like visiting the Christmas markets and history stuff.”

“Cool,” she grins. “I was up in Köln last week with my friends from school, it’s really fun.”

“It was,” I agree. “We were there on Monday. We’re doing the Vulkan Express today and a bunch of other stuff before we head home.”

“I’ve raced that train a few times,” bike girl grins. “Though normally road conditions are a lot better than it is now; flippin’ snow.” she pauses as she adjusts her blonde braid, “Seems like a really long way to come for a school trip.”

I dry up and make sure my own hair is still in one piece after being blasted by the train journey. In this case, not looking more like Holly than normal. “Our school is pretty good with its trips. Coming to actual Germany really makes taking German kinda make more sense, you know?”

The girl nods, “Back when I used to live in England we did a school exchange with a place in Virginia, Grottoes.”

“Other coast,” I grin, it's a big country.”

“Sure is,” she admits as she heads towards the door.

“You sure you’re ok after that crash?” I ask. “That looked really rough…”

She chuckles and flexes with machismo that seems quite alien to one so petite. “I’m pretty tough. It takes a lot more than that to break Drew Bond.”

We walk back out into the main restaurant and I glance back at the door and there is no mistake; it’s certainly the boys bathroom. I’m more confused than ever.

A tall man in a thick down coat with a hat and gloves is wheeling the girl’s bike outside to a station wagon with a bike rack.

“Oh hey dad, you got here fast,” she grins, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

The man smiles and ruffles her hair, “Had to pop down to grab some parts in Koblenz, you beating yourself up again, eh kiddo?”

The girl Drew shrugs and shakes her head, “Snow came down quicker than I expected. It was a good job the train had already stopped.”

“Do not tell your mother you nearly hit a train, she would kill me.” the man sighed. “Who’s your friend?”

She looks over at me and grins, “You never did actually say…”

I extend my hand to her father, “Uh, Alex Winters, sir.”

“American?” he raises an eyebrow, taking my hand rather gently. “A long way from home, I see.”

“School trip, Dad; they’re off the Vulkan.”

“Ah,” the man replied with a nod of understanding. “Dave Bond, nice to meet you, young lady, I hope this one wasn’t too much trouble.”

I blush and glance around hoping nobody heard ‘young lady’, “No sir, not at all. We’re just glad we can help.”

“Right, come on you, the dad taxi awaits.”

Drew turned and gave me a little wave and a grin, “It was nice to meet you, and cheers for pulling me out of a snow drift. Have a good time on the rest of your trip.”

I returned the wave, “Watch out for low-flying walls huh?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Drew’s dad muttered something I could barely hear, although it sounded a lot like, “No he won’t.”

I must have misheard…. right?

“She off?”

“Huh?” I turned around and spotted Chloe appearing by my shoulder.

“That was a girl, right?”

“Yeah,” Chloe replied slowly, giving me a funny look. “Why?”

“She came into the guys' bathroom.”

“So did you,” she pointed out.

I looked out across the parking lot at the girl helping her dad load the bike onto the roof-mounted carrier. Even in her bulky winter riding clothes she looked very obviously female. The bike loaded, she skipped around to the front passenger seat and hopped in beside her father.

“You don’t think…?”

Chloe looked at me and narrowed her eyes. “What, you mean?”

I suddenly felt like a certain web-loving superhero meeting their doppelganger. You know the one scene where they both stand there, pointing a finger at each other? I’m pretty sure that was me in that moment.

 

 

“And so, when Germany was reunified in 1990, they ended up deciding to replace the old monument to a future German unity with a replica of the original equestrian statue of Emperor Wilhelm the First. It was a little controversial, but it speaks to an older history from a different time.”

Frau Whistler was telling us all about the massive bronze statue of the King of Prussia from, like, the 1860s. While we were working on dividing America with a nice civil war, Old Bill here was unifying Germany.

We were in Koblenz, having returned from our adventure in the Brohltal without further kamikaze cyclists. Right now we were at the point where the Mosel and Rhine rivers meet, the Deutsches Eck, or German Corner. The corner itself was a humongous monument right on the riverbank, which included flags of all the German states and even bits of the Berlin Wall!

“So who can tell me who the first Chancellor of Germany was and why they were significant?” Herr Norton asks, glancing around the group.

The crowd was silent.

“I know one of their Chancellors but it’s the wrong answer.” Tina giggled quietly beside me.

“Miss Booth?” Norton zeroed in on my less-than-subtle friend.

“Uh…”

“Bismarck,” I hissed to her.

“Bismarck?”

“Correct,” Norton smiled appreciatively. “At least some of you paid attention during our visits. “Otto von Bismarck was the first chancellor and, under Wilhelm the First, helped oversee the unification of Germany. So popular in fact, he served for twenty years.”

“Thanks,” Tina whispered back. “I suck at the numbers and names crap.”

“Stop being such an easy target.”

The blonde grinned at me and all but confirmed she would not cease her shenanigans. I rolled my eyes and returned my attention to our teachers as they further lectured on the mustachioed leaders of Germany.

“I know many of you thought we would release you into the great city here for a few hours of shopping but I’m going to have to disappoint you.” Herr Norton began, clapping his hands together.

He waited a few moments for the groans to emanate from the assembled teens before his smirk gave the game away. “Now we didn’t drag you out here just to look at the Eck, I hope you’ve wrapped up warm because we’re going to be boarding a riverboat shortly and taking a special Christmas tour.”

He wasn’t kidding. Now if you’re American like me, we have a certain idea of riverboats, and these ones didn’t have any paddles, gamblers or gators. No, here in Germany, river tourism is a whole different beast. In Koblenz, it seems like the whole waterfront along the Rhine and Mosel here has jetties and terminals, where tourist boats arrive and depart, taking people on aquatic adventures up and down the river. Some were massive vessels that clearly took passengers on far longer, multi-day cruises to the far north and south, while others were piddling little vessels that looked like an errant barge would see them off in a heartbeat.

Ours, the rather aptly named Wilhelm, was moored just south of the monument on the Rhine side of the corner. The ship was perhaps two hundred feet long and had a raised bridge sitting atop its upper deck. The entire thing was draped in fairy lights and looked incredibly warm and inviting. Well, it’s not hard to look inviting when your backdrop is gently falling snow landing in the black frigid waters of the river.

“That looks cold,” Emma observed with a frown, eying the water as we walked down the jetty toward the ship.

“I don’t think they expect you to take a swim,” Tina pointed out, balling up snow from one of the railings and sending her makeshift missile into the dark water below with a deeply satisfying plop. “Better hope we don’t spring a leak.”

“I’ll save you room on my door, Booth,” Chloe grinned as she playfully poked our blonde menace.

The Wilhelm was just as festive inside as it had appeared on the outside. Inside were Christmas trees, tinsel, and fairy lights strung from every possible place. The atmosphere was warm and cosy and the air smelled sweet and spicy.

Besides our party, there appeared to be a good number of tourists and other visitors aboard, most of whom were clearly adults. It appeared that for them, the Glühwein was already flowing.

Once the crew and passengers were settled, we pulled away from the quay and into the flow of the Rhine proper. With the snow falling everywhere, it was a really beautiful sight. Light Christmas music was playing over speakers and the vibration of the engines as they battled against the river’s current was pulsing through the deck.

The festively attired bar staff rather tragically denied me Glühwein this time, despite being of legal age here in Germany. (It’s almost like they suspected we were on a school trip, Die Ratten). I gratefully accepted a big mug of hot chocolate, however, with appropriate grace.

When I say this is hot chocolate, please do not misunderstand me. As a woman who appreciates her chocolate, I consider myself quite the connoisseur. This mug however was on point; marshmallows wallowing in cream, coated with chocolate sauce, and shaved dark chocolate capped the most luxuriously velvety drink you can possibly imagine. Frankly, I‘d take this over the booze.

For the first part of our journey, we looped up and around the Deutsches Eck, getting a wildly new perspective on the impressive monument to our vessel’s namesake. After a great photo op, our literal Steamboat Willy turned south and began to slog its way upstream.

The interior of the main cabin was becoming stiflingly hot with all the merrymakers, some of whom were becoming a little merrier than two in the afternoon would typically justify. Well, it is Christmas I suppose.

The gang and I made our way out onto the foredeck, our hot chocolates in hand to find some cooler, less congested space to ourselves. Did I just call us ‘the gang?’ hm, look at me being part of a social network, next I’ll be running for Homecoming Queen.

The Wilhelm chugged onward, passing the imposing Ehrenbreitstein Fortress, perched high atop the eastern cliffs. The snow was falling gently as we stared out over the water in open wonder. Between my chocolate and the warmth of my clothing, I was pretty darn cozy. If I pushed myself, I could actually admit that I was content.

We slogged south against the current for some time. Along our way, beautiful Schlosses lined the hillsides of the Rhine valley. There was something timeless about this place. Even now as we shared the mighty waterway with commercial shipping heading up and downstream, you could almost imagine those ancient fortresses looking down upon and defending shipping hundreds of years ago as the tides of Europe shifted. Compared to America, this place just felt… ancient.

We were approaching the turn at Spay where the mighty river swung to the west before curving back south again. The place held a timeless ancient quality only further cemented by the imposing shape of Schloss Marksburg, keeping watchful eye on the world below.

The snow swirled above us and the world seemed quieter, despite the rumble of the ship’s engines.

“Really is kinda beautiful, isn’t it?” Emma mused quietly, echoing all of our thoughts.

“Stunning,” Sarah agreed. “Merry Christmas, everyone.”

The last six months of my life have contained a fair few real moments. Moments where I felt like I was becoming a real person; recognized and seen. Moments I shared with my Mom and Dad, my brother, and my sister. Moments I spent with my best friends and… my boyfriend. Somehow, this moment together with friends felt truly special.

In this moment I didn't feel different. Sure, I was here as Alex, but they all knew me and included me regardless. My…problem wasn’t even mentioned. These girls didn’t accept me; the word suggests some level of tolerance or something different that has to be overcome. No, rather, they included me. To them, I was a friend and my inclusion was a default. For me, that felt like a pretty awesome feeling.

“We need to get a picture of this, to commemorate the moment.” Chloe pointed out. Shifting slightly out of the way of some new, semi-inebriated passengers that had joined the growing crowd on the foredeck.

“I have a camera” I offered, pulling the little digital out of my coat pocket.

“We need someone to take it,” she pointed out, glancing around the crowd.

Two drunk Germans jostled us at that moment, nearly causing Tina to stumble over. The man stared at the angry blonde for a moment with a drunken glaze over his eyes before mumbling ‘schuldigung and swaying back away. Apparently, drunken office parties aren’t just a preserve of us Americans.

Chloe managed to convince an elderly couple to take our photograph, while there was still breathing room on the port railing. Realizing we had limited time before it became too crowded, we bundled together in a group, all hugs and smiles, with the castle high above us in the snow.

I positioned myself toward the rear of the group because I wanted to keep my clothes out of the photograph. With my wooly hat and my hair spilling out of it in the light breeze, I reasoned that I looked about as feminine as the rest if you didn’t see my Alex drab below. The only problem is that Chloe and Sarah were both taller than me.

There was a small step for kids that ran along the gunwale to allow them to see over the side so I stepped up on it to allow myself to be seen between the girls more evenly. With Emma and Tina up front, we had a decent little gaggle of grinning rosy-cheeked faces aimed at the camera.

Yeah, that is a weirdly specific amount of buildup for a photograph, isn’t it? Why am I setting this up so much? Does a boy come out and remark just how similar I am to the other girls, immediately outing me as one of them? Does Gary appear to kick off World Gender War Three? No, it was actually far worse than that - if you can possibly imagine - although I think if you’re smart you noticed exactly what happens next.

The drunken office workers to our left, all of whom had clearly been on the booze long before they boarded our cruise let off an almighty cheer, and the guy who nearly flattened Tina wobbled violently towards us again. What happened felt like slow motion, even to this day.

The idiot staggered right and Tina, sensing impending fuckery, took a step forward and out of his path. He impacted Chloe fairly heavily, which sent her into me. My position on the little step had me just out of balance enough for the unthinkable to happen.

Feeling yourself fall and being unable to stop it is one of the most unpleasant experiences in your life, believe me. As I tipped backward, I let out a squeal before disappearing over the railing. The fall itself was perhaps fifteen feet, but it felt like it took an eternity.

Hitting the water was a blur of sensations. The most memorable feeling I can describe is the sensation of the air leaving my lungs as the shock of the icy water enveloped me. I was overwhelmed with sounds, sensations, and panic in less than a second.

I slipped beneath the surface and was enveloped by the inky blackness of the frigid Rhine. There was no sound, no light, and no sensation of movement. I felt like I was suspended in the void of space, my body, weightless and insensate. The truth is I was underwater for perhaps a second or two before my head broke the surface once again.

I reentered the world of the living to a riot of sound and sensation that assaulted my hypothermic mind like a flashbang grenade. The ship’s engines were roaring as it reversed throttle and the wake slapped me in the face, momentarily choking me as I swallowed a mouthful of murky water.

Above me, I could hear the ship’s horn blasting out alarm and shouts of “Mann über Bord!” echoing out into the still air.

The huge white hull was passing by me less than five feet away and I managed to just about recover enough of my senses to kick away, lest I be sucked below and dragged into the propellers. My limbs felt heavy and all of my motions felt delayed, as though relayed by elastic cable before reaching my muscles.

I spluttered and coughed up a lungful of river water and waved an arm up at the faces staring down at me over the railing. I distinctly remember that moment… my hand in front of my face, reaching up and yet, unable to form words to call for help no matter how hard I tried. In that moment I felt true panic, true terror that I might not be saved.

The world around me got fuzzier and more distant, the sounds and wails of sirens and ship’s whistles less solid. I could feel myself slipping, tiredness starting to encroach on my mind. I did not mentally process it at the time, but hypothermia was beginning to take effect, my body shutting down to protect my vital organs against the cold. I had been in the water barely two minutes and I was already beginning to succumb to its icy grip.

A splash of water hit me in the face as a bright orange shape landed in front of me, barely two feet away. It was enough of a shock to bring me back from the fog and I grabbed out for the object with desperate, thick, tingling fingers. That object? A plastic life ring.

I felt the ship getting vaguely bigger, rather than recognizing that I was being pulled through the water towards it. All my foggy mind knew was that I needed to hold on to the ring as if my life depended on it. In this case, it absolutely did.

The next thing I knew, strong hands were hauling me up and out of the water. Somehow being up in the air, I felt suddenly far colder than when I had been in the water. Before I knew it, I was being hauled over the railing and onto the deck.

"Fräulein, können Sie mir hören? Wie fühlen Sie sich?”

“Alex!” A voice screamed, “Holly!”

I blinked and stared up at the bearded man in confusion. “I… don’t.”

“Ah, English,” he nodded sternly. “Fräulein, you can hear me? Are you hurt?”

“Just… cold,” I chattered, my body starting to shake violently out of my control as I was swaddled in blankets.

Two human-shaped blurs appeared beside me, I’m pretty sure Tina and Chloe. “Holly, shit, are you ok?”

“Mädchen, bitte, give her room, please.” The man ordered, waving the two off.

I could hear the engines revving up once more as the deck below me started to vibrate. “I… slipped… fell.” I chattered.

“We know, we got you fast, ok? We’re going to get you inside and warm now, we are returning to our berth.”

“Holly,” Another voice called out, “Let me through, she’s my student.”

Frau Whistler appeared over me, her face looking white as a sheet. “Dear god, you’re ok. I was so worried, how are you? Are you okay?”

“She’s going to be ok, She needs to get warm and out of the wet clothing,” the crewmember directed to my educator. “You will help me get her inside?”

“Of course,” Frau Whistler replied, her eyes still wide with panic.

I felt myself lifted and carried inside and out of the cold, the warm interior almost as much shock as the ice of the river. Our little entourage made its way past a few startled passengers and through a doorway before heading down some stairs and into a crew area below decks.

I was placed gently on a sofa and surrounded immediately by Frau Whistler and the girls.

“Holly, shit, are you ok?” Tina begged, her eyes wild. “I thought we lost you.”

“Uh… cold,” I chattered, “cold but not dead, I think.”

The crewmen handed Frau Whistler some blankets. “I uh… you should probably get her out of those clothes, I will give you space; keep others out till you are suitable.”

My teacher nodded and the man left, closing the hatchway behind him.

My body was still fairly stiff and out of sync, I was, without fanfare, stripped to my underwear and wrapped in big heavy blankets.

“You certainly know how to make a splash.” Frau Whistler observed, a little more relaxed.

“It was those drunk guys,” Chloe spat as she towel-dried my river-soaked hair. “Those idiots shoved her overboard, they should be arrested.”

“When I heard screaming,” Frau Whistler grimaced, “someone said a girl went overboard… I feared the worst.”

“Uh… girl?”

Fiddleshits.

There was a knock at the door and Frau Whistler moved away to allow the crewman back in now that I was semi-decent.

“Girl?” I asked Tina thickly.

She gave me a look like I was confused. “Yeah, you’re a… oh fuck.”

Chloe raised an eyebrow before sharing her expression. “Oh my, I think… maybe it’s ok? We can just say it was a mistake, right?”

Frau Whistler returned with the crewman carrying a huge hot chocolate. “For her,” he gestured, “I thought she might still be cold.”

“Thank you,” I croaked, reaching out to grasp the mug. “I’m sorry for the fuss.”

“Ach so, it is not your fault, Fräulein,” the man shook his head and scowled. “We were getting close to cutting that party off, The purser should never have never allowed them onboard like that.”

“What is happening now?” Frau Whistler asked.

“We will be returning to Koblenz, the problem is we are almost half way on the excursion so, it will be around an hour or so with the current.” The man paused and listened to an earpiece. “The Captain is going to radio... No… ah, excellent.”

“What’s going on?” Frau Whistler asked.

The man smiled, “A Doctor has come forward, the Captain is having them brought down now.”

“I think I’m ok, really,” I gasp, realizing the potential implications.

“We insist, Fräulein, I am sure your Lehrerin also. You have hypothermia and it is for your own best health to get checked over.”

I shot my teacher a pained look but she mistranslated it and nodded somberly. “Thank you, tell your captain that we’re incredibly thankful for his assistance.”

“I will leave you to it,” the man said politely, “see that she warms up. I have… well, we have some dry clothes that should fit. It is not much but it might help her modesty. I would have found something more… plain, but it was all we had to spare unless she wishes to wear overalls from our engineer Rudi.”

The man deposited a bundle on the small table and smiled politely before returning above deck.

I’m about to be examined by some dodgy Deutsch Doktor on a ship, I’m not wearing any clothes and the whole flipping ship thinking I’m a girl. To cap it off, knocked overboard by stupid drunken idiots that will likely result in the Polizei being involved.

Well, shit.

 

Welcome back from Christmas break! I really wanted to release this episode Christmas week but I was several hundred miles from my PC with screaming toddlers to cuddle. I've been dying to see what you all think of this one and a big special thanks to Maddy Bell for allowing me to cameo her legendary heroine!
Alyssa.

 

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