----------=BigCloset Retro Classic!=----------
It's not a question you ever expect to get asked, certainly not by your mother.
And yet, I'd hoped my whole life that I'd be asked the question.

"Leon, do you wish you were a girl?" My mum asked.

by Debbie V

---

 
Admin Note: Originally published on BigCloset TopShelf on Friday 04-13-2015 at 05:51:33 pm (-0400), this retro classic was pulled out of the closet, and re-presented for our newer readers. ~Sephrena
 

 
Part 1

It's not a question you ever expect to get asked, certainly not by your mother. And yet, I'd hoped my whole life that I'd be asked the question.

"Leon, do you wish you were a girl?" My mum asked. I paused briefly, more in shock than out of a need to think about the answer.

"Yes," I said confidently.

"I want you to think very carefully about this," mum said calmly upon hearing my answer. "Would you rather be a girl, or a boy?"

"I would rather be a girl," I answered immediately. Mum simply nodded and gave me a long, comforting hug.

"I wish you'd told me," she simply said. "I wish you'd told me earlier."

I was born on 15th November 2001, and from as far back as I can remember, I've associated 'feminine' with 'positive'. At primary school, virtually all my friends were girls. I'd enjoy playing dress-up, even though most of the time I was dressed up as a prince or a hero-type character, there were times I'd dress up as a princess or a fairy, and it just felt so, so right. When I went clothes shopping, I'd always ask for girls' clothes, when I was asked what I wanted for Christmas or for my birthday, I'd always ask for girl's toys.

After several years of being told 'no', several years of being told 'that's only for girls', several years of being told how to be a boy- and, more importantly, that I HAD to be a boy- it finally began to sink in- that all these things I wanted, these things I enjoyed doing- they were wrong. Fundamentally completely WRONG. I began to believe it, and I began to believe that I was wrong. That the way I felt, the very way I thought- it was wrong, wasn't as good, as worthy as other people.

I tried to change myself in the last year of primary school, distanced myself from my girl friends and tried to make friends to the boys who'd constantly teased me, sometimes even outright bullied me for being who I was. I'd play football and watch it on TV, swap stickers with them, play the videogames they liked... But I didn't enjoy it. Inside, I felt hollow, like I was aware of what I was doing, but it wasn't ME doing these things. Whenever I played football, my old girl friends would be dancing or playing with each other's hair, and it hurt, actually physically hurt to see them like this.

What perhaps hurt most, though, came from my home life, the one place where I should have felt most comfortable. My father left us when I was just 3, so for nearly my whole life I've been raised by my mother, alongside my older brother.

Ricky is 8 and a half years older than me, and every bit the macho, man's man. He's a squaddie- joined the army on his 18th birthday and loves everything about the military life... And has flat out told me on several occasions that I should- no, I WILL love it too. He's unrelenting in his efforts to get me to join a military cadet organisation to 'toughen me up', to 'make me into a real man'. Growing up, every time I showed an interest in anything feminine, or chose to hang out with female friends, I would be subjected to teasing and sometimes outright verbal abuse. And the worst part is, every time I got upset, Ricky would turn the dial UP. He'd lay on the teasing thicker and thicker until I was having a full-blown tantrum, crying and screaming, and he would sit there and LAUGH. Whether it was to amuse himself or show off in front of whatever girlfriend he'd had at the time, I couldn't say, I was only thankful whenever mum would intervene and separate us.

In the Easter holiday of my last year of primary school, I was miserable. I was looked after by one disinterested babysitter after another whilst mum was at work. They'd make a half-hearted attempt to cheer me up, then they'd give up, tell me they can't make me feel any better if I didn't know what was wrong. I did, of course, know what it was, but I couldn't say. I was, after all a boy, and that was the way it had to be.

...Until that fateful morning of the 5th April 2013, when mum asked me the question, and I gave the answer that would change my life.

The following Monday, I found myself sat in front of my GP, feeling more nervous than I ever had in my entire life.

"Go ahead darling," mum said, squeezing my hand for support. "Tell Dr. Wilson what you told me yesterday."

"I- I..." I began nervously. "...I would rather be a girl than a boy."

"Okay," Dr. Wilson said, smiling and nodding. "How long have you felt like this?"

"Is it- is it right to feel this way?" I asked, incredulous that I wasn't being told to 'man up' or something similar.

"If it's the way you feel, it'd the way you feel," the middle-aged man said. "There's nothing 'right' or 'wrong' about it. Some people feel more comfortable being the opposite sex- it's a simple fact of life."

"Answer Dr. Wilson's question, Leon," mum said softly.

"Almost all my life," I answered. "I only ever wanted girl's things when I was younger, I like girls' toys better than boys' toys, I'd much rather wear girls' clothes than boys' clothes."

"It sounds like your son has a case of gender dysphoria," Dr. Wilson said to my mum, who seemed to be taking this all in her stride. "Obviously this will need to be confirmed by a trained counsellor, but I can set up an appointment for you as soon as possible."

"What about before then?" Mum asked. "Should I let Leon start dressing as a girl, or should I wait until we get a diagnosis?"

"A diagnosis isn't going to cause him to start having this condition," Dr. Wilson said with a smile. "It'll just be confirmation that he's had it all along. As for dressing as a girl... That needs to be Leon's decision." Mum turned to me and asked me the question I'd wanted to hear for so long.

"Do you want to wear girls' clothes for the next few days?" Mum asks. Immediately, I nod, grinning a wide, happy smile.

That day, mum bought me my first ever skirt. It was very plain- just a light, black, knee-length skirt, but when I wore it, everything felt so... right. The way it felt moving around my legs as I walked, as I danced around in it- I felt free, like I'd suddenly been released from prison. Mum commented more than once on how happy I looked wearing the skirt- and she was right. In addition to the skirt, I also got a glittery pink t-shirt, and another t-shirt that had the outline of a ballerina on the front. To anyone looking in from the outside, despite my shorter hair, I'd have looked exactly like a happy 11 year old girl.

The appointment with the counsellor took place just four days later. Despite my protests, mum insisted I wore trousers instead of my new skirt. The counsellor noted how unhappy I looked as I walked into the appointment- and when I compared being back in boys' clothes to being in prison, I was told something that stayed with me for my whole life.

"How you feel is perfectly normal," the middle-aged woman said. "It's important that you don't keep these feelings to yourself, that you tell your mother any time you feel unhappy about who you are."

Throughout the whole meeting, it was repeated to me over and over again that how I felt wasn't wrong, it wasn't something to be ashamed of, it wasn't something I should bottle up- in fact, I should talk about my feelings as much as possible, to prevent them from harming me. It was also explained that 'gender dysphoria' couldn't be diagnosed in this initial meeting, and that I'd have to see yet ANOTHER counselor in order to get a diagnosis- which wouldn't be for another few months- but mum and I were advised to keep attending sessions so that I had somewhere I could talk about my feelings without fear of being ridiculed or bullied.

On the way home from that first meeting, my mum bought me another skirt to wear at home, a short denim skirt, which I of course changed into the second I got through the door.

In my final term at primary school, I stopped trying to fit in with the boys and returned to the girl friends I'd 'abandoned' earlier that year. It took a few weeks, but I was eventually 'welcomed back'. I continued attending sessions with my counsellor, where my confidence grew and grew, and every day after school- when it was just me and mum at home- I was given the choice of changing into a pair of casual trousers or a skirt, and every time I was given that choice, I chose the skirt. I allowed my hair to grow longer, and I counted down the days until I would have the meeting with the counsellor that would confirm my diagnosis of gender dysphoria. Then, 3 days after leaving primary school for the last time, the worst thing possible happened to me.

Ricky returned home for 2 weeks on leave.

For the next 2 weeks, he set about making my life a living hell. Every time I complained about his teasing I was told that his leave was hard-earned, and I should be grateful that he was spending it looking after me- never mind the fact that he was also spending the time tormenting me for his own amusement. One day he even took me out for a trip, saying we were going to the cinema, but he'd actually tricked me and took me an army cadet recruitment office- and he got very, very upset with me when I refused to sign up, accusing me of wasting one of his leave days despite the fact that he'd deceived me. My only relief from this was when I'd go round to one of my girl friend's houses to play- and even there I was treated as the 'token boy'.

Of course, there was no way I'd be allowed to wear any of my beloved girls' clothing whilst Ricky was in the house. To make matters worse, on the final day of his leave, he took me out yet again with the promise of ice cream. When I returned home, with tears in my eyes, my hair had been shorn down to a number 4 buzz cut. When Ricky saw me crying, the abuse started.

"What the hell are you crying for?" Ricky asked incredulously. "I treat you to a haircut, and in return, you start crying?"

"I didn't want a haircut!" I pleaded.

"Yes you did want a haircut," Ricky insisted. "If you go to secondary school with you hair as long as it was, you WILL get beaten up every day by 16 year olds. What I've done is save you from that. Can you at least TRY to be a little grateful?"

"Th-thank you," I meekly replied.

"And stop crying," Ricky ordered. "Seriously. Stop it. NOW." I gulped and blinked my eyes, desperately trying to prevent the tears from flowing. "If you cry at secondary school, those 16 year olds will kick the shit out of you on a daily basis, and there will be nothing you can do to stop it. So you need to grow up, and FAST, because I'm not going to be here to make these decisions for you in the future." I wanted to tell him then and there about my meeting with my counsellor, about my upcoming appointment, but I knew that all that would happen was that Ricky would ridicule me into telling mum that I no longer wanted the appointment- and that was a risk I couldn't take.

When mum arrived home and saw my hair, obviously she was aghast, and deeply upset with Ricky. Ricky, of course, had his argument prepared.

"Leon told me he wanted a haircut," Ricky boldly lied.

"Is this true?" Mum asked me with suspicion in her eyes.

"No," I said, earning an angry growl from Ricky.

"You know that's a lie," Ricky forcefully stated. "Now tell mum that you wanted the haircut."

"Don't tell your brother how to think," mum said, earning a petulant sigh from her eldest son.

"Well he's not exactly thinking correctly now, is he?" Ricky argued.

"He's entitled to think however he wants to think," mum retorted.

"Yeah, well the more you mollycoddle him, the more he's going to suffer at secondary school," Ricky snorted.

The argument went on for almost 15 minutes, by the end of which I was almost crying again. The next day, after Ricky went back to his army base, I immediately changed into a skirt and a girly t-shirt, though unlike before, I was still miserable. Fortunately, mum picked up on this.

"Leon, are you okay?" Mum asked. "You're normally happier when you're wearing one of your skirts..."

"It's my hair," I complained.

"You really didn't want to have it cut, did you?" Mum asked. I immediately shook my head.

"I feel silly with short hair," I moaned. "It's like I can't now be a proper girl, and I don't want to be a proper boy..." Mum gave me a long, comforting hug as I sobbed about my hair.

"Just three days, darling," mum said. "Then we'll speak to the specialist."

I attended the meeting with the specialist wearing- at my choice- my black skirt and ballerina t-shirt. On the way there, I couldn't help but imagine that everyone was whispering about me, sniggering about the 'girl with the boy's haircut' or the 'boy wearing a skirt'. If I hadn't had my mum's support, I'd probably have died of shame right then and there.

Fortunately, at the meeting, all my dreams were realised. When the evidence was presented- my preference for girls' toys and activities, me only having female friends, my hatred of my new haircut and, most importantly, my wearing a skirt to the meeting- the specialist, Dr. Williamson, confirmed the diagnosis of gender dysphoria. She praised my mother for allowing me to make the choice of what to wear, and set out the future steps I was to take.

The first step was to begin living full-time as a girl, something that scared me and excited me in equal measure. Mum wasn't rich, so my wardrobe was limited at first, but by the end of the summer holiday, I possessed several skirts, dresses and girly tops and t-shirts.

The next step was to 'come out' to my friends. Mum invited my closest friends and their parents around to our house for a chat, and whilst I played with my friends- all of whom accepted me as 'one of the girls' without question- mum explained the situation to their parents. I wasn't fully aware of what happened, but when my friends' parents left, some were angry whilst some were happy. I later found out that some of my friends' parents were unhappy, even though inside, I was the exact same person, just dressed differently. I still saw my friends over the summer, but some of their parents- who had always been nice to me before- had suddenly become very unpleasant in their demeanour towards me.

Next up was my grandmother. After mum's divorce, we lost contact with my father's parents, and my mother's father died just after I was born, so my grandmother was the only elderly relative I had. As mum explained the situation to her at our house, I sat alone in my bedroom, terrified about what would be said. When mum called me downstairs, dressed in my denim skirt and pink t-shirt, time seemed to stop as I stared into the 71 year old face of my grandmother.

"Aren't you such a pretty young girl?" Grandma said with the same warm, loving smile she'd beamed whenever I saw her dressed as a boy. "I'm not sure about your haircut, though..."

"That was Ricky's fault," I said with a smile as I leaned in to give the elderly woman a hug, which was eagerly reciprocated.

"Well he's a BOY dear, he doesn't know any better," grandma laughed. "Now, how about we go shopping, just us three girls, yes?" Grinning widely and almost crying with happiness, I nodded my head eagerly.

"Really mum, there's no need, not on our behalf," mum half-heartedly argued, already knowing what the response would be.

"Nonsense," grandma replies dismissively. "I've just got a new granddaughter, and I intend to spoil her!"

"Okay," mum sighed. "Go and put your shoes on, Leo-" Mum paused.

"Have you not decided what you're going to be called yet?" Grandma asked me.

"Not really," I shrugged. "I always really thought of myself as 'Leon the girl'."

"But you do know Leon's a name only given to little boys, right?" Grandma asked, and I nodded sadly.

"Mum," I asked. "What would you have called me if I was a girl?"

"I hadn't really thought about it," mum said.

"Didn't you once tell me you had a list of names?" Grandma asked. "I'm sure you had names for both boys and girls, and I'm sure most of them also began with L."

"I did, but I can't remember what I put top of that list," mum sighed.

"It had a hyphen in it," grandma said confidently. "Lily-Jade, Leah-Jade..."

"Laura-Jade!" Mum says, snapping her fingers. "That was it, Laura-Jade."

"I like the Laura part," I said with a smile. "I don't really like the Jade bit..."

"Laura it is, then," grandma said with a happy smile.

"Would you like to be called Laura?" Mum asked me, and I nodded happily.

"Then get your shoes on, Laura," grandma said. "We're going shopping!"

Grandma spent a lot of money on me that day, not just buying clothes, but some make-up and perfume as well, even though mum argued that I was much too young for it! The one thing we didn't get on that day- and that we still hadn't bought- was my school uniform. Even though living full-time as a girl at home was a relatively simple case of saying 'I'm a girl' and wearing girl's clothing, attending school as a girl would be a different matter entirely.

Fortunately, the week before I started my secondary school, mum and I were able to meet with the head teacher, a friendly-looking woman in her mid-forties who listened intently to our story, and- when faced with my written diagnosis of gender dysphoria, and legal documentation confirming my name change to 'Laura'- agreed on 'compromises' for my attending school. I'd attend as a girl in a girl's uniform, but it'd be an 'open secret' that I used to be a boy. Letters would be sent to the parents of all the children in the school explaining the situation. I'd join in all the girls' classes, including PE, though I'd change in the PE teacher's office instead of the changing rooms, and I wouldn't play on any school sports teams. I'd use the staff toilet instead of the girls' toilet. There would be a zero tolerance approach to any and all bullying, and if I should change my mind about being a girl- not that there was any danger of that happening- I'd be accepted as a boy again.

All this leads me to today, Tuesday 2nd September, 2013. I'm sat in my mum's car more nervous than I've ever been in my entire life. On my legs are thick grey tights, and on my feet are tiny black ballerina pumps. Around my waist, I'm wearing a knee-length, pleated grey skirt with an elasticated waistband, and tucked into that is my school blouse. Underneath my uniform, I'm wearing girls' underwear- light blue knickers and a vest with a delicate lacy trim. My regulation school tie and blazer round out my uniform. My short blonde hair has been styled into the most feminine cut it can imitate, and I'm wearing a tiny amount of mascara to give my eyelashes more volume. Two gold studs- one in each earlobe- complete the 'illusion' that I'm a girl.

"If you're not ready for this, I can call school and explain that you're ill-" mum says, before I cut her off.

"No, I'm ready," I whisper, grabbing my school bag and stepping out of the car. Already I can hear some whispers from some of the children in the car park- some of the '16 year olds' Ricky warned me about- but I know I can't stay away from school my whole life. After shutting the car door and watching mum drive off, I head into my new school and quickly find my new class, taking a seat on an empty desk.

"Hi," I hear a girl say behind me. "Is- is anyone sitting there?" I look around and into the face of a girl wearing the exact same clothing- even the same tights and shoes- as myself, and my heart beats faster as I realise that I truly am one of the girls.

"No, you can sit there if you'd like," I say confidently in my practised 'girl's voice', which isn't very different to my boy's voice.

"Thanks," the girl says, dropping her bag underneath her desk. "I'm Nicole, Nicole Wyatt."

"I'm Laura White," I say, making us both giggle at the similarity of our surnames.

Before we have the chance to talk further, our forum tutor comes and introduces himself, before ushering us off to our first assembly, where Mrs Houghton- the head teacher- is waiting for us.

"Laura, can you come here please?" Mrs Houghton asks, and like a dutiful pupil, I walk over to my new head teacher.

"During the assembly, I'll introduce you to your year and explain your 'condition'," the kindly woman explains. "I'll make it very clear that any bullying you experience will not be tolerated even for a second. Is that okay?"

"Yes, Mrs Houghton," I say, though my nerves are clear in my voice.

"I understand how nervous you must feel," the head teacher says in a soft voice. "But when we met we explained how important it was that we were open and honest about this. I promise you, I won't let you feel excluded because of the way you are."

Sure enough, the assembly starts- Mrs Houghton introduces herself to the year, explains the school's ethos and some of their past achievements. About five minutes in, my heart begins to race as I'm called up to stand next to the head teacher.

"Those of you who have come here from Shepherds Bush Primary School will remember Laura as Leon," the head teacher explains. "Laura has taken the decision that she can no longer life as a boy, and has decided to live her life at home and attend school as a girl." I start to feel sick as some of the boys at the back of the vast hall begin to laugh.

"And that will be the very last time any pupil of this school laughs at Laura for being who she is," Mrs Houghton says firmly. "There will be no bullying, no teasing, no laughing, no finger pointing, no nothing. Laura has decided to live her life as a girl, and she is to be accepted as such. If I find that anyone has bullied or teased Laura for her decision, they will be punished most severely. Laura will join the girls' classes for PE, but will change by herself, and will use the disabled or the staff toilets. These are compromises that Laura herself has agreed to. I will repeat again that this school is proud to be a school that includes all people, regardless of their background. I trust that all of you will welcome Laura just as I have." My heart beating fast and my legs wobbling, I sit back down in my chair next to Nicole, who looks at me with a stunned expression on her face. After assembly it's our first lesson, Maths, and I take a seat on a small table in the back corner of the room, fully expecting to be sat by myself, when I hear a familiar voice.

"Laura!" Nicole's familiar voice calls. "Hey, Laura! Come and sit with us!" Warily, I stand up and approach the table, fully expecting to get the invitation slammed in my face, but as I sit down on the chair, smoothing my skirt underneath me as I do, there are no sniggers from any of the three girls at my table, no pointing, no laughing, no nastiness.

"Thanks," I say, getting out my pencil case.

"Is it true?" Nicole asks with a smile on my face. I nod, and Nicole's grin only grows wider.

"Oh my god," Nicole says happily. "That's so cool!"

"Really?" I ask.

"Are you kidding?" Suriya, one of the other girls, says in her mild Indian accent. "You're a boy who chose to be a girl. How is that NOT cool?"

"Do you like girls' things?" Nicole asks me.

"Yeah," I say with a genuine smile. "I don't have any girls' toys because my brother still comes home from time to time and he's determined to make me into a tough man."

"Eww," Harriet, the other girl, sneers. "You're much better off being a girl."

"I AM," I state confidently.

"So, what do you like doing?" Suriya asks.

"I like clothes," I say, earning friendly giggles from the other girls.

"Yeah, I'd kinda guessed that!" Harriet says, making me giggle too.

"I like make-up, drawing, dancing..." I continue, before being interrupted.

"Ooh, ooh," Suriya says excitedly. "Do you do ballet?"

"No, I've only been living as a girl for a few months," I say sadly.

"Do you want to come to my ballet class?" Suriya asks. "It's only just opened, it'd be great to have a few friends there who AREN'T my sister!"

"I dunno," I say. "I mean yes, I'd like to, but I dunno if my mum can afford it..."

"Well if Laura can't, I'd love to!" Nicole says happily.

"Cool!" Suriya says. "I'll give you both her number after class." Our conversation is cut short by the arrival of the teacher, and talk of dance is replaces by talk of fractions...

At break, I find myself sitting with Nicole, Harriet, Suriya and Suriya's sister Priya, who's in year 8. Priya's reaction to me previously being a boy is similar to her sister's- seeing me as 'cool' for being a boy who rejected being masculine in favour of being a girl. After another class- this time history- we reconvene in the same place for lunch.

As we sit around one of the exterior tables eating our meals, dressed identically in our uniforms, I feel more content than I've ever been in my entire life, and yet there's a part of me that's still uneasy. I'm keenly aware that despite Mrs Houghton's warnings, fingers ARE being pointed at me. Some- if not most- of the kids ARE teasing me behind my back. Despite my 'gang' telling me to ignore the teasing- and Priya's unconditional offer to protect me from any bullying I may experience- every whisper I barely hear feels like another cut to my skin.

Once I've finished my sandwiches, I excuse myself from the table, immediately looking for someone I hadn't seen all day. Despite my insistence that I'd be fine by myself- even though I didn't truly believe what I was saying- Priya and Suriya insist on accompanying me, and it doesn't take long for me to find the girl I'm looking for.

"Hi Megan," I say softly to the girl who's sitting by herself under a tree.

"Hi Laura," Megan says flatly.

"Thanks," I say to the girl who was probably my best friend at primary school. "Thanks for using my real name."

"Why did you choose to be a girl?" Megan asks. I take a deep breath and reply.

"...Because I hated being a boy," I say honestly. "Being a girl is much better. I'm much happier dressed like this, it's like I'm not a boy pretending to be a girl: I used to be a girl pretending to be a boy."

"Some people have been teasing me," Megan says sadly. "Because I went to the same school as you. I know some of the boys have been getting it too."

"They can't touch me, so they're going after you instead?" I ask, suddenly feeling extremely uneasy.

"Well then," Priya announces. "I'll just have to put a stop to that, won't I? Any friend of Laura's is a friend of mine!" Megan smiles upon seeing the protection of my new 'surrogate big sister'.

"And it was fun when we hung out, wasn't it?" Much to my delight, Megan grins and nods. "Nothing's really changed- I'm now just who I was always supposed to be. Come on- I'll introduce you to the gang!" Now laughing happily, Megan and I stand up, and after brushing the grass off of each other's skirts, we head back to Nicole and Harriet, where the six of us very quickly become very close friends.

By the time 3:20pm rolls around, I find myself almost not wanting to go home. My first day 'in the open' as a girl has gone far better than I ever dared imagine. Even if I am the subject of ridicule in some parts of the school, I have a group of close friends who truly like me for who I am. As I sit down in mum's car, I stare down at my tights-covered knees and sigh happily.

"So...?" Mum asks cautiously. "Did- did everything go alright?" I smile at my mother, who nearly weeps tears of happiness.

"Yeah," I say confidently. "Everything went great!"
 
 

 
To Be Continued

"Show me! Show me!" Nicole eagerly giggles. Also giggling happily, I take the mirror from the kitchen table and show my new friend the glittery highlights me and my other friends have applied to her eyelids. "So cool!"

"Me next!" Megan insists. Giggling almost feverishly, Nicole, Suriya, Priya, Harriet and myself take our glittery make-up brushes and set about giving my best friend a make-over just as pretty as Nicole's.

I giggle and laugh as we take turns applying the glittery make-up to Megan's face and try to forget about what's happening just behind the door to the living room. My first week at school- and my first 'public' week as Laura- ended yesterday, and if I wasn't having so much fun with my friends right now, I'd be desperate to get back to school just to spend time with them. I'd also be desperate to get back to wearing my uniform, if I wasn't wearing neon pink tights and my knee-length black skirt- not to mention my own glittery eye make-up!

Unfortunately, whilst some people, like my friends and my teachers, have fully accepted (and even embraced) me as 'one of the girls', some people haven't. The parents of my five friends are talking to my mum right now, and as much fun as I'm having, I can't help but shake the feeling that this will be the last time all six of us have fun like this. Megan's parents are obviously okay with the arrangement, having talked to my mum before the start of school, but Harriet's told me that her parents were furious when they discovered that a transgendered girl was merely at the school, let alone friends with their daughter, and Priya & Suriya's parents come from a very wealthy family, and despite Priya's assurances that as Hindus, they have a great tolerance for 'alternative' people, I can't help but feel that my 'gang' is about to be split in half. As for Nicole's parents... She assures me that they were fine about it, but that's Nicole- always optimistic about everything.

"Laura!" My mum calls, instantly silencing the entire kitchen. "Can you come in here, please?" I take a deep breath and head into the living room, flanked by my friends. Much to my dismay, Harriet's father immediately makes a beeline for his daughter and leads her out of the house, despite her protests.

"We're going. NOW!" Harriet's father snarls, roughly grabbing his daughter's wrist.

"But dad!" Harriet pleads. "Laura's my friend!"

"Not any more she's not!" The middle-aged man growls, not even looking back as he slams the front door. The room sits in shocked silence for a second, before an Indian man, who I assume to be Priya and Suriya's father, speaks up.

"And that," the middle aged man says, "is how NOT to react to the news that your daughter has made a wonderful friend in her first week at a new school!" I can't help but gasp and smile.

"Told you!" Priya says smugly, giving me a quick, girly squeeze.

"You are very brave, Laura," Mr. Malik says. "And I know you will be a great friend to my daughters. You are welcome in my house any time!"

"Thank you," I gush, tears welling in my eyes. "Thank you so much!"

"And I know you already are a great friend to my Meg!" Megan's father says with a kindly grin.

"Thank you," I sniffle.

"M-Mum?" Nicole asks, aware that she's the only girl in the room whose parent hasn't approved of me yet.

"The first thing you said when you got home from your first day," Mrs. Wyatt says, "is 'mum, I've met this great girl and her name is Laura'. I'm not going to break up a friendship like that when it's only just begun." Nicole gasps, happily bouncing up and down before giving me a tight hug.

"I'll talk to Harriet's dad," mum says softly. "I'll make him see sense. I promise."

"Thank you all so much," I say, openly crying as I realise that I'm surrounded by true friends.

"Sucks about Harriet," Megan says later as we sit around the kitchen table, drinking tall glasses of cool lemonade.

"We'll still see her at school," Nicole says confidently. "Her father can't keep her out of every class we're in."

"Yeah," Priya states. "He can't stop her from seeing you at school."

"From seeing US at school," Nicole says with a smile that Priya and Suriya happily share. Megan, however, still looks unhappy, whether it's about losing Harriet as a friend or why she lost Harriet, I can't tell.

"You're right," I say with a smile.

"I know I am!" Nicole giggles. "Now, let me show you something I saw in Teen Globe magazine, we'll make that nasty boy's haircut pretty before you know it!" I giggle as Nicole leaps from her chair and immediately begins fiddling with my short hair, styling it into a pleasingly androgynous style that all the assembled parents- including my own- approve of before they leave!

I spend the rest of the day, and the subsequent Sunday, at home. Between homework, playing with my new hair and checking out the website of the magazine Nicole recommended, I've got more than enough to keep myself busy, but by the time Monday morning rolls around, I'm eager to get back to school- dressed in my skirt, tights and blouse- to meet with my friends. Much to my delight, Nicole and Megan are waiting for me at the school gate, so we all walk in together. The teasing I'd endured had got much less as last week went on, but it's still so nice to have friends around me- just in case. We meet up with Priya and Suriya before walking to form, but Harriet is nowhere to be found, and when we get to form, she's sat on her own on a table as far away from me as possible. Sadly, I don't get the chance to speak to her before form starts, nor do I get the chance to talk to her during maths, where she again moves table to be as far away as possible from me, Nicole and Suriya.

During break, Nicole, Suriya and myself meet up with Megan and Priya, but Harriet is still noticeably steering clear of us. I suggest leaving her alone, allowing her to come to us in her own time, but Nicole and Priya both insist on forcing the issue, so the five of us approach the timid young girl.

"Hi Harriet," I say cautiously.

"Hi Laura," Harriet says with a sad voice. "I'm sorry- my dad says I can't talk to you anymore."

"But why not?" I ask.

"Because you're really a boy," Harriet answers- an answer that tears my heart in two.

"But I'm not a boy," I say, gesturing to my skirt. "I'm a girl."

"I'm sorry, Laura- I can't talk to you any more..." Harriet gets up and walks away before I can argue further. All of a sudden, I become VERY aware of the other pupils pointing and laughing at me.

"Come on, Laura," Megan says, leading me back to class as the school bell signals the end of break.

My next lesson is PE, and as per my 'agreement' with the school, I change in the PE teacher's office. It's cramped, but as I'm only changing from my uniform into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, it's not too bad. I'm disappointed by how boyish I look in my PE kit, but when I see Suriya dressed the same way, my fears ease up slightly. For my first PE lesson, we're doing gymnastics, so whilst most of the class are dressed similarly to me, a few- including Nicole- are wearing skimpy tank leotards with a purple pattern.

The lesson is very basic- just doing a few very basic stretches and exercises- and after I've changed back into my skirt and my tights, I can't help but find Nicole and comment on her gym attire.

"That's a very pretty leotard," I say, with Suriya nodding in agreement.

"Aw, thanks!" Nicole replies, lifting her blouse to show us the clingy garment that she's still wearing under her uniform. "I've applied for the school's gymnastics team, that's why I get to wear it. If you applied, you'd get to wear one to class too!" I can't help but feel sad as I'm reminded that however many concessions have been made for me to attend school as a girl, there are some bridges I'm not allowed to cross.

"Laura's not allowed on the school team, remember?" Suriya points out, making Nicole blush with embarrassment.

"Oh, sorry," Nicole grimaces. "I'm really, really sorry, Laura! I completely forgot..."

"No, it's okay," I sigh. "I'd probably look, you know, stupid in a leotard anyway..."

"You'd better not hope that's the case," Nicole says, her smile returning to her face. "Remember, we're meeting with Suriya's ballet instructor tonight? You'll HAVE to wear a leotard to that!" I can't help but smile as we head off to lunch, Suriya talking excitedly about her new ballet class.

At lunch, we meet up with Priya and Megan, and Priya joins in with her younger sister's enthusiastic tales about their ballet lessons. Megan, however, seems miserable.

"What's up, Megan?" I ask. "You seem blue..."

"Some of the girls in my class are picking on me," Megan confesses. "They think because I'm friends with you, that I'm really a boy as well..."

"One, Laura is not 'really a boy'," Nicole says, leaping to my defense. "Two, that's so stupid! Obviously you're a girl, I mean, they've seen you in the changing rooms, right?"

"Yes, but-" Megan says, before being interrupted.

"And no matter what, we'll always be your real friends, right girls?" Nicole asks.

"Yeah!" I say confidently, followed by Priya and Suriya.

"I know, but I still hate it," Megan sighs. "I wish you'd just been born a girl."

"YOU wish that?" I ask. "How d'you think I feel!?"

"Yeah, I know," Megan sighs, turning her attention back to her lunch. I've known Megan longer than anyone, but she always knew me as Leon- and I can tell she's having some difficulty NOT seeing me as that little boy. It's hard seeing her this miserable- Nicole & Suriya's attempts to get her to join in our ballet adventure all fail, and at the end of lunch I'm left with the horrible feeling that I may be losing a second friend in as many weeks.

After two more lessons, during which Nicole and Suriya succeed in making me feel better- despite Harriet 'moving on' with other friends at an adjacent table- the 3:20 bell rings and the three of us- along with Priya and Megan- head to the car park to be collected by our parents.

"I'll see you tonight, Laura!" Nicole says with her trademark grin as she gets in her mum's car and heads home.

"Did you have a good day?" Mum asks as I sit down in the passenger seat of her car.

"It was okay," I say. "Harriet won't talk to me any more..."

"Oh, that's terrible," mum replies with genuine concern. "I promise you I'll talk to her dad when I get the time, I can see this is upsetting you. Still, at least you've got the meeting with your ballet instructor to look forward to tonight!" I smile as I remember the meeting- that mum and I head to immediately after I change into a casual denim skirt and long-sleeved t-shirt (though I keep my tights on for warmth).

We arrive at the studio a few minutes before Nicole and her mother, and spend the time watching the graceful older girls performing their dance moves.

"That'll be you in a few years' time!" Mum says, giving me a quick hug. I barely have time to say hi to Nicole when the lead instructor- a tall, blonde woman in her early twenties- comes out to greet us.

"Hi," the teacher says. "You must be Mrs. White and Mrs. Wyatt."

"And you must be Miss Fullerton," Nicole's mother says, shaking the young woman's hand.

"Yes, though I don't mind being called Krystie," Miss Fullerton says. "By everyone EXCEPT my students, of course!" Nicole and I can't help but giggle at the teacher's bubbly personality- certainly a far cry from some of the teachers I've encountered at school.

"I'm glad you've chosen my dance school," Miss Fullerton says, taking a seat behind her reception desk. "Have either of you two ever taken ballet before?" Both Nicole and I shake our heads.

"Well the beginner class is very straightforward," Miss Fullerton continues. "It's Wednesday evenings, and you'll be dancing with other 9-13 year olds, learning the basic steps, the basic positions. After a year, if I think you're ready, I'll advance you to the intermediate class, where you'll be doing more complicated routines, and after another year- again, if I think you're ready- to pointe shoes and the advanced class."

"Which class are Suriya and Priya in?" Nicole asks.

"The Malik girls?" Miss Fullerton asks. "They'll be in the same class as you two. What, have you got a little 'gang' going on at school?" Nicole and I smile bashfully and nod. "Aw, how cute! I remember getting together with my friends from school for ballet. Not that much has changed in the intervening ten years, hehe!"

"What will we have to wear?" I enquire nervously.

"Basic attire for your class is pink tights, canvass ballet shoes with elastic and a light-blue leotard," the teacher explains. "Style and make of the leo doesn't matter as long as it's light blue."

"How much will that cost?" Mum- ever money-conscious- asks.

"If you order from my recommended supplier, you get 30% off if you mention my class," Miss Fullerton explains, handing my mother and Nicole's mother a small catalogue filled with pictures of ballet dancers. "One of the perks of having a celebrity friend- you get to piggyback on their endorsements!"

"There's... One other thing," mum says nervously. "Laura here is transgendered." Miss Fullerton simply nods and smiles.

"Yes. And?" She asks, instantly earning a place in my heart.

"Well, um, will anything special need to be put in place to allow her to attend?" Mum continues.

"Not really," Miss Fullerton says with a shrug. "She'll have to wear a skirt over her leotard but most of the girls in that class wear dance skirts anyway so I don't see what difference it makes. She wouldn't even be my first transgendered student." I look up at mum with an excited look in my face, and she almost instantly gives in.

"Oh, okay then," mum says, getting out her purse. "But this is part of your birthday present, okay?" I nod, and both myself and Nicole giggle excitedly as our mothers enter their payment details onto pieces of paper that they and Miss Fullerton sign.

"This is so cool!" Nicole laughs, giving me a quick hug as we leave the dance studio. "We're both ballerinas now!"

"If you let me know Laura's size, I'll pick her uniform up when I get Nicole's tomorrow," Mrs. Wyatt says.

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly ask you to do that," mum replies.

"Oh, don't be silly," Mrs. Wyatt says warmly. "You don't want your daughter to miss out on her first lesson with her friends now, do you? You can pay me back when you're able to. No arguments!" With that, Nicole and her mother get into their car and drive away before mum can argue any further.

"I can see where Nicole gets it from," I say as I get into mum's car.

"Yeah, so can I," mum laughs. At home, after finishing my homework, I change into my nightdress and climb into bed, excited by all the new feminine experiences that will be heading my way.

I wake up the following morning and I literally can't wait to pull on my uniform and get to school, I'm that excited by the day ahead. I have a big smile on my face as I walk into school with Nicole and Megan- and much to my relief, Megan has a smile on her face too. Throughout form and my first lesson- Art- everything goes great, but at break, things come crashing down.

Break starts normally, with Priya and Suriya gossiping about ballet and music, specifically One Direction- as they share a surname with one of the members, they've been trying to con people into thinking they're distant relatives of Zayn! The conversation pauses, however, when we see an unexpected figure approach our group.

"Harriet?" Nicole asks excitedly.

"Oh, hi Harriet!" I say, happy to see my former friend return. What she says next, however, breaks my heart.

"Hi, BOY," Harriet spits in my direction, almost immediately bringing tears to my eyes.

"Harriet!" Priya scolds. "That's not nice! You say sorry right now!"

"Whatever," Harriet says. "If you want to spend your time hanging around with a FREAK, that's your problem!" By now I'm openly crying, and would be in a ball on the floor if it wasn't for Megan’s supporting hands on my shoulders.

"Laura's not a freak!" Nicole shouts angrily.

"And I'd rather be friends with her than with a bitch like you!" Priya snaps. In a fit of pique, Harriet shoves the older girl back, and if it wasn't for Nicole and Suriya, she would surely have fallen to the floor.

"Come on," Priya says, helping Megan to keep me upright. "Let's go somewhere else, we don't need to be around people like HER!"

"Yeah, that's right, take the FREAK away!" Harriet calls as I bawl my eyes out in a quiet corner of the school's playing field.

I'm barely composed by the time the bell rings for the next lesson- German. As always, I'm sat on a table with Suriya and Nicole, but much to my dismay, Harriet is sat behind me, and even worse, the lesson is on the use of German articles- der for a masculine subject, die for a feminine subject, and das for a gender-neutral subject. Throughout the first fifteen minutes of the lesson, I'm hounded by Harriet whispering 'Der Laura' or 'Das Laura' at me, before I finally snap and scream at Harriet to leave me alone- bringing the entire class to a standstill.

"Laura!" The teacher, a youngish woman named Mrs. Keller snaps. "Get outside! Now!" Trembling with fear and rage, I dutifully obey, desperately trying not to hear the triumphant sniggering of Harriet as I walk past her table. Once I'm outside, I break down fully, crying my eyes out where I'm sure that no one can see me. A couple of minutes later, Mrs. Keller comes out of the room, obviously to tell me off further, but her stern face cracks when she sees me crying.

"Laura," the teacher says stoically, "why did you snap like that?"

"H-Harriet was teasing me," I blub.

"That's still no reason to disrupt the class," Mrs. Keller says. "What was Harriet saying to you?"

"She was leaning over and saying 'der Laura' and 'das Laura' at me," I sob. Mrs. Keller- clearly aware of my 'situation', nods sympathetically.

"I'm not going to give you detention this time," she explains, "as I'm sure it's just a one-off incident and you were obviously provoked. Take some time to dry your eyes, then we'll go back into class and I'll move Harriet to the opposite side of the room, okay?"

"Yes, Mrs. Keller," I say, making the woman smile.

"In Deutsch?" She asks, making me giggle.

"Ja, Frau Keller," I say in my best German accent. Sure enough, a minute later, I return to my seat next to the highly concerned Nicole and Suriya, and true to her word, Frau Keller moves Harriet to a desk on the opposite side of the room the second she looks like she might lean over to start teasing me again. I breathe a sigh of relief having 'won' this battle of a war I never wanted to fight, but as Harriet's in most of my classes, I know it's far from over. At lunch, it's almost a relief to be able to discuss the incident with Megan and Priya.

"I thought I had it bad," Megan whispers. "I'm so sorry, Laura!"

"YOU have nothing to apologise for," I sigh. "I dunno why Harriet's suddenly become so nasty."

"You saw the way her dad acted," Priya says. "Do you reckon he's trying to fill her head with his evil ideas?"

"'Evil ideas' is a bit strong, isn't it?" I ask.

"If it is her dad, 'evil' is the right word," Suriya says. "What kind of 'man' would justify acting like that to an 11 year old girl?"

"Well," Nicole says confidently. "We'll just have to make sure nothing like that ever happens to Laura ever again, right girls?"

"Yeah!" Megan says, her smile finally bring a grin back to my own face. As talk returns to that of music and dancing, I actually start to regain my shattered confidence, but as I walk back to class with my friends, something happens that destroys my confidence entirely. Yelling excitedly, two boys from my year rush up to me, shoving my friends out of the way, and lift my skirt at the back whilst simultaneously trying to pull down my tights and panties. If I hadn't been quick enough to grab a hold of 'myself' at the front, the laughing, cackling boys would have exposed me right then and there in front of the entire school.

The attack only lasts two seconds before a passing teacher angrily yells the boys off, but I'm in near hysterics. I manage to pull my tights back up and rearrange my skirt, but as I try to take a step I collapse to the floor in a state of panic. Immediately, my friends help me back to my feet as the teacher who yelled the boys off- a stern, middle-aged man named Mr. Allen- comes over to me.

"Are you okay, girl?" Mr. Allen asks, and when I shake my head, he leads me to his office near the headteacher's. "You other girls get to class." Even once I'm sat in Mr. Allen's office, my feeling of panic doesn't subside, my body keeps shaking, my palms keep sweating and I keep feeling like I'm going to scream, cry and throw up all at the same time.

"You're Laura White, aren't you?" Mr. Allen asks softly, and I nod in response. "I thought so. What's your next class?"

"IT," I barely whisper.

"I'll call Miss Henderson and let her know you won't be in the class," Mr. Allen says, a kindly look in his normally fierce eyes. "Do you have your mum's number?"

"Ple-please don't tell her what happened," I plead.

"She needs to know," Mr. Allen says firmly. "Laura, I know who the boys were who assaulted you. And that is precisely what it was- an assault. I promise you they will be punished SEVERELY." Knowing better than to argue with a teacher, I nod my head. "I'll let Mrs. Houghton know what happened and call your mother from her office. Are you okay to stay here for a while?" Again, I silently nod my head. What feels like an eternity- but is in actuality, just five minutes- passes, before Mr. Allen returns to his office with Mrs. Houghton in tow.

"Laura," Mrs. Houghton says softly, crouching down in front of me. "I heard what happened. Are you okay?" Still crying, I shake my head.

"I'm sending you home sick for the rest of the day," the headteacher explains. "I've already spoken to your mother, she's on her way to pick you up. Laura, on your first day I made a promise to you that that sort of bullying would not be tolerated, and I intend to keep that promise. The boys who assaulted you have already been excluded for the rest of the week, and THEIR parents have been informed of what they did."

"Thank you," I whisper. Less than fifteen minutes later, my mum arrives, and I give her the biggest hug I have ever given anyone in my short life.

"Laura, oh god," mum blubs. "Are you okay?" When I shake my head, mum only hugs me tighter. I'm grateful that all the kids are in classes as I walk out into the car park hand in hand with my mum, though I can still feel their stares out of the classroom windows as we drive home.

"Are you feeling any better?" Mum asks as we head home.

"A little," I whisper.

"Do- do you want to stop being a girl?" Mum asks carefully.

"I don't know," I answer honestly. The last few days of being Laura, making friends with Nicole, Priya and Suriya were the best days of my life. Wearing the uniform I dreamed of all throughout primary school, playing with hair and cosmetics, signing up for ballet, being accepted as a 'real' girl... But if the price of living my dream is knowing that I could be attacked at a moment's notice, is it really worth it?

"Can- can you buy me some school trousers?" I ask, making my mum almost cry. "Girl's school trousers."

"Of course, darling," mum whispers as we detour to the nearest supermarket. Whilst there, I try on several styles of school trousers, eventually settling on a £6 pair that mum buys for me. Mum tried to argue that if she bought me trousers, it meant I couldn't get my ballet uniform, but when I reminded mum that Mrs. Wyatt said she could pay her back whenever, mum quickly withdrew her argument.

"Do you want to wear your new trousers now?" Mum asks as we leave the supermarket.

"No," I say, looking down at my skirt and my tights. In truth, I would wear these clothes every second of every day if I was given the choice, but sometimes, that's not such a good idea- something that's only reinforced when I exit the supermarket and spot one of my attackers stood on the other side of the supermarket car park with his mother. I try to quickly steer my mum back to our car when the woman spots me and shouts after me.

"Hey!" She yells angrily. "Hey! You two, come here! I've got something I want to say to you!" I desperately try to persuade mum that we should leave, but she disagrees, practically dragging me across the car park to confront the woman and her son.

"Are you Laura White's mum?" the lower-class woman asks.

"Yes, that's me," mum says defensively. Much to my- and my mum's- surprise, the woman then turns to her son with a truly vicious look on her face.

"Say it!" The woman snaps.

"Sorry," the boy mumbles under his breath.

"Louder!" His mum orders.

"I'm sorry!" The boy- red faced with embarrassment- says.

"Apology accepted," I say, trying to make my voice loud enough that I wouldn't have to repeat myself.

"I'm never been more ashamed in my life than when I heard what this one did today," the boy’s mother says with genuine contrition in her voice. "I want you to know he's got a hard three days of gardening and cleaning the house ahead of him, and if he ever thinks about lifting a girl's skirt again, he's got this to look forward to!" Much to my amusement, the woman then opens her shopping bag to reveal a pleated grey school skirt, identical to the one I'm wearing right now. It doesn't take long to twig that the skirt is intended for use by her son in case he misbehaves again.

"Thank you, I really mean it," mum says. "But, um, you do know that Laura isn't a, um, 'normal' girl, right?" My heart sinks a little as my mum says these words to the unknown woman.

"It doesn't matter how 'normal' she is," the loud woman retorts. "She's obviously a girl, and I'm not raising my Declan to treat girls- ANY girls- the way he did."

"Thank you," mum says, before prompting me with a gentle shove.

"Thank you," I say timidly.

"You’re very welcome, young lady," the woman says with a kind grin on her face. "I promise you won't get any trouble from my son again!"

After I arrive home, I don't change out of my uniform, instead keeping my skirt and my tights on after dinner. I'm about to sit down and do some homework when I'm interrupted by a knock at the door- and stood on my doorstep, much to my surprise, are Nicole, Megan, Priya and Suriya, along with the Indian girls' father.

"Hi girls, Hi Mr. Malik," I say with a shocked expression.

"Hello Laura," Mr. Mailk says politely. "May we come in please?"

"Oh, of course!" I say, leading the unexpected visitors into the living room.

"Hi girls," mum says with surprise in her voice. "Hi Rupesh, what's up?"

"Priya and Suriya told me what happened to Laura at school," Mr. Mailk explains. "I wanted to know what I could do to help."

"Oh, well that's very kind," mum says. "But, I'm not really sure there's anything you CAN do..."

"Nonsense!" Mr. Mailk dismisses. "I'm on the board of governors of the school, your daughter is friends with my daughters, and I have a duty to help! Girls, didn't you want to show Laura something?"

"Oh yes," Suriya says excitedly. "Laura, which way's your bedroom?" Confused, I lead the four girls into my craped room, where Nicole and Suriya almost bounce up and down with excitement.

"This is so cool, what Suriya's got!" Nicole squeaks as Suriya pulls a long, decorative piece of red fabric out of her school bag.

"If you want to leave your skirt and your tights on, you can," Suriya says as she unfolds the fabric on my bed. "But this works much better without them on." Slowly realising what Suriya has in her hands, I slowly strip off my skirt and my tights for the first time today, feeling slightly silly as I stand there in my light blue girls' panties.

"Your blouse too," Priya explains as she helps her sister wrap the fabric around my bare legs. "You can leave your vest on, it doesn't matter too much." I take off my blouse as the sparkling fabric snakes its way around my body, eventually covering one shoulder and being allowed to drape loosely over the other shoulder.

"Now, you're wearing a real Indian sari!" Suriya says excitedly as I 'model' the exquisite garment for myself in my mirror.

"It used to be mine," Priya explains. "Now it's Suriya's, and we thought after today, you might need reminding how great it is being a girl!" In truth, I did need reminding- and this beautiful sari is just the thing to do it. Despite my pale skin and short, blonde hair, I feel like a real eastern princess as the sari swishes around my body with every step I take.

"This is so cool," I say. "Thank you, thank you all so much!"

"It was the least we could do," Suriya says with a smile. "Even if it's making Nicole and Megan green with envy!"

"No, no," Nicole says, clearly as envious as Suriya's hinting. "It's Laura's bedroom, she's the one who should wear the sari."

"She should wear THAT sari," Priya says, unzipping her own school bag. "You two can wear these!" Nicole and Megan both squeak excitedly as Priya takes two more saris- one blue, one purple- out of her bag and, along with Suriya, helps Nicole and Megan change into the beautiful garments. Once we're dressed, we head downstairs to where my mum and Priya & Suriya's dad are still talking, but they immediately stop when they catch sight of the three of us in our saris.

"What beautiful young women," Mr. Mailk says with genuine kindness in his voice. "Any parent would be proud to have you as their daughter. All of you." Almost simultaneously, Nicole, Megan and myself all blush and giggle at the unexpected compliment.

"Here, I have to get a photo of this," mum says with pride in her voice. I smile widely- the happiest I've felt all day- as I stand in front of the living room door whilst mum takes photo after photo of me in Suriya's sari.

I remain in the sari for the rest of the evening as the five of us chat about school, ballet- despite our attempts at persuasion, Megan STILL isn't interested in joining us- music, and everything that's great about being a girl- and there are a LOT of entries on that list. The four best things about being a girl, however, have to be the four true friends I have in my bedroom right now.

I feel a twinge of sadness as I strip off the gorgeous sari, changing into a plain grey t-shirt and black skirt as Mr. Malik takes the four girls back home.

"So, do you still want to stop being a girl?" Mum asks as I park myself on the sofa.

"No," I say confidently. "I definitely want to keep being a girl."

"I'm glad," mum says. "Will- will you be wearing your new trousers to school tomorrow?" This question catches me out- I've been so wrapped up- literally, in the case of the sari- in girls' things tonight that I hadn't considered that I'd have to go back to school tomorrow and face everyone after what happened earlier today.

"I don't know," I whisper.

"It doesn't make you any less of a girl if you do choose to wear the trousers," mum explains. "You're still my daughter, still my Laura, and I'll still love you no matter what."

"Thanks," I say. "Mum... Have you talked to Harriet's dad yet?"

"Not yet," mum says. "Why?"

"She was being nasty to me at school," I say sadly.

"Oh no," mum says with genuine concern in her voice. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I didn't get the chance," I say. "She was saying nasty things to me in class... The other girls think her dad might have put her up to it."

"Well I'll speak to him as soon as I get the chance," mum says firmly. "I'll make sure Harriet doesn't bother you any more. Did you tell the teachers about it today?" I shake my head.

"I told my German teacher, but only because I shouted at Harriet in class," I say. "I hate her."

"Don't say that," mum says sadly. "You two were best friends three days ago..."

"She obviously doesn't want to be my friend any more," I moan as I sink back into the sofa.

"Well," mum says with a smile, "at least you four girls who do want to be your friend, and each of them is worth a thousand Harriets!" I smile- mum is, as ever, right in what she says.

I wake up the following morning and glance over at the chair in my room- draped over one side is my new pair of trousers, over the other side is my usual school skirt and a fresh pair of grey tights. I eat breakfast in silence- mum obviously wants to know what I'll choose for today, but doesn't want to pressure me into making a choice. I pull on my panties, my vest, my blouse and my tie, but I dither before choosing what to wear on my legs. Mum's right, even if I wear the trousers, I'll still be a girl, I'll still be Laura... But I'll also be giving in, I'll be telling the bullies, telling Harriet, 'you win'. But is my pride worth the risk of being attacked like I was yesterday? Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and pick my outfit for the day...

"I'm ready," I call as I head downstairs to mum, who smiles and almost cries as she sees my descend the stairs, my legs covered in thick grey tights, my skirt moving side to side as I practically skip down the stairs.

"Are you sure you're ready?" Mum asks. "I can always call the school and tell them you're sick, I'm sure they'd understand if you wanted to take another day..."

"No, I want to see my friends," I say with a smile. "And if I went off sick, I'd have to miss ballet tonight, too!" Mum laughs happily as I sit down in her car and she drives me to school- where, as yesterday, Nicole and Megan are waiting for me, as are Priya and Suriya, all of whom greet me with wide smiles and big hugs when they see me walk up to them wearing my skirt.

"You're such an awesome girl!" Nicole gushes. "I don't know if I'd be as brave as you!"

"Thanks, but you four are where I get my courage from!" I say as the five of us walk into school, our friendship stronger than ever. I can't help but buckle slightly as Harriet sneers at me as I walk past her to form, but flanked by Nicole and Suriya, I simply smile sweetly at her before walking off, not once looking back at the girl who abandoned our friendship.

Instead of form, our entire year attends a special assembly, where Mrs. Houghton explains- without naming specific names- that what happened to me yesterday was a serious offence, and anybody caught lifting a girl's skirt could expect to be expelled permanently. Even though no names were named, it's clear that the entire year knows that Mrs. Houghton is talking about me- and it's also clear that her threat is being taken VERY seriously.

Throughout the day, none of the girls let me out of their sight even once. Every time Harriet tried to approach me, or anyone looked like they were going to try to tease me, fierce glares from Nicole and Suriya- and Priya and Megan, during break- warned my would-be tormentors off. For the first day since I started secondary school, I didn't experience a single second of teasing, no unkind words, and no whispers behind my back. I almost didn't want the day to end, but when Nicole came to me at the end of the day with a carrier bag full of new, special clothes, I realised just how much better the day was going to get.

After eating dinner- mum being only too happy to feed Nicole, given all that she's done for me- the two of us head up to my bedroom, where Nicole quickly strips out of her inform, stuffing it into her school bag. I turn my back, only to be laughed at by me new friend.

"Why are you turning your back?" Nicole says. "You're a girl, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, but-" I begin.

"No buts!" Nicole laughs. "We're both girls, end of story. Now come on, I want to show you what I've got!" My heart starts to race as Nicole tips out the carrier bag onto my bed, revealing three pairs of soft pink tights, a light blue thin-strapped leotard, a flimsy light blue wraparound skirt and a pair of canvas dance shoes.

"Come on! We need to get dressed!" Nicole says, quickly pulling on her own tights and her leotard over her panties. I emulate my friend- marvelling at how different the soft dance tights feel to my thick school tights, and how snug and clingy the leotard is once it's stretched over my body. After pulling on the shoes and tying the dance skirt around my waist. Once we're both ready (Nicole having also tied her long hair into a severe bun), we head downstairs, where mum almost giggles with happiness at the sight of the two of us.

"Aw, don't you two make perfect little ballerinas?" Mum coos as she leads us to her car.

"Thanks, Mrs. White," Nicole says.

"And thank you for being such a good friend to my Laura!" Mum says as we drive to the dance studio.

After arriving, Miss Fullerton introduces Nicole and me to her class, explaining that we're new students who'll be learning the basics. Priya and Suriya are, of course, delighted to see us, and help myself and Nicole over the course of the lesson as we start to learn the basics of ballet. By the end of the lesson, sixty minutes later, I'm buzzing so much I feel I could dance all night- and Nicole looks like she's going to dance all night anyway!

After Mr. Malik takes a few photos of the four of us for posterity (he'd been given the go ahead by my mum and Nicole's mum earlier in the day), Nicole and I head back to mum's car, almost giddy with excitement. However, as seems to always happen when I feel happy, my positive mood is brought crashing down to Earth by my mother.

"Hi Laura," mum says solemnly. "I've got some news for you- your brother's going to be coming home on leave over half term." All of a sudden, I feel VERY self-conscious in my beautiful girl's clothes.

"...And that's about it for this half of the term!" Mrs. Ford says, prompting everyone in the class to whisper excitedly and put away their textbooks. "See you all in a week!"

"So cool!" Nicole enthuses as we leave the classroom.

"One down, twenty-nine to go!" Suriya laughs. I force a laugh out of my mouth, but it's not a sincere one. Unlike virtually every kid in the school, though, I would give anything to be able to attend lessons next week. And it's not just so I can hang out with the four closest friends I've ever met, it's not just so I can wear the skirt I've worn to school every day since I started, and it's not even so I can continue to learn from my teachers... It's so can I can avoid the conflict I know will be waiting for me at home.

Not that there haven't been conflicts at school. Whilst I thankfully haven't experienced the same kind of horror I experienced during my second week, things haven't been perfect despite my friends' best efforts. What's most surprising, however, is that most of the bullying has come from girls, rather than boys. After Declan & his friend's suspension and being threatened with a skirt- something that would have been a dream come true for me mere months ago- the boys have left me completely alone, sometimes even sticking up for me. Harriet, however, continues to torment me whenever she gets the chance and feels that she could get away with it. In art class I've had paint 'accidentally' flicked on my tights, in hockey I've had her 'accidentally' hit me in the thigh with a hockey stick- though it was obvious what she was really aiming for- and throughout the school day, whenever she catches sight of me and know that I can see her, she'll whisper something- possibly without actually saying anything- to a nearby girl, then point in my direction and giggle. What's most upsetting isn't the teasing- I'm slowly but surely getting used to that- it's the fact that during the first week at school, Harriet was one of my closest friends.

Mum's said she's spoken to Harriet's dad about it but it doesn't seem to make much difference- if anything, it's only made it worse. It's not like I'm doing any harm to Harriet, or going out of my way to antagonise her- but that doesn't seem to be good enough for her or for her father.

Thankfully, I do have real friends I can rely on at school and outside of school. Nicole, Priya, Suriya and myself continue to study ballet at Miss Fullerton's school, and after seeing the photograph of the four of us in our leotards last month, Megan's finally given in and signed up as well! Every Saturday we seem to all be at one of our houses- usually Nicole's or Priya & Suriya's- listening to music, experimenting with make-up, creating our own little dance routines... This weekend, Nicole's promised to do our nails for half term! Despite the hard times, since September my whole life has been like a dream...

...A dream I'm being forced to wake up from this coming week, as my brother returns on leave from the Army. Ricky doesn't know about my change yet, and given that he's open about the fact that he wants me to join the Army- or any of the armed forces- when I'm older, coming home to see me dressed in a skirt and wearing nail polish is going to destroy his illusions... And may destroy my life.

"Hi Laura," mum says as I get into her car, smoothing my skirt underneath me as I sit down in the passenger seat. "Looking forward to half-term?"

"No," I moan.

"I know, I know, it's going to be difficult," mum sighs. "But it's only one week. And you never know- Ricky might be supportive of your new life."

"Yeah, right," I say. "When's he getting home?"

"Ten, tomorrow morning," mum says. "It'll give me time to talk to him, then you can talk to him before you go round Nicole's, okay?"

"Okay," I say nervously.

At home, I head upstairs and strip off my uniform, staring in my mirror at my body clad in only my vest and panties. Even though my hair is still short (though it's been growing for the last 3 months), I do look like an ordinary 11 year old girl. After pulling on a long-sleeved top, a ruffled knee-length skirt and a pair of black leggings, the look becomes even more convincing. Anyone on the street looking at me would believe that I was a girl- but it's not someone on the street that I need to convince.

I spend the rest of the day getting a head start on my homework before heading to be just after 9pm. However, I hardly get any sleep, and am wide awake when my alarm clock goes off at 8am. After showering and getting dressed in a long-sleeved top, black tights and my favourite black skirt, I head downstairs to find an unexpected family member waiting for me- though this surprise is very much a pleasant one.

"Hello, Laura!" Grandma says, coming over to give me a very welcome hug.

"Hi grandma," I say. "What are you doing here?"

"Your mum called me and explained that you were going to tell Ricky about your change today," grandma says. "I thought you might want a little moral support!"

"Thank you," I say, smiling warmly at the elderly woman.

"Come on," grandma says. "We'll go into the kitchen whilst your mum talks to your brother." I follow grandma into the kitchen and entertain her with tales of school, friends and ballet- even dancing a few steps, much to her delight! I almost forget about the confrontation that is to come, until a knock on the door at 9:45 makes my legs turn to jelly.

"Don't panic!" Grandma says. "Just take a deep breath, your mum will explain everything. You started this day as a girl, and by god that's how you're going to end it!" I nod nervously, taking several deep breaths to get my emotions under control.

"That's better," grandma says. "Now, show me some more of those dance steps of yours!" I dutifully dance more steps for grandma, but within five minutes, I hear my mother's voice calling me through from the kitchen. With grandma placing a comforting hand on my shoulders, I step out into the lounge and stare deep into the stoic face of my brother, sat on the sofa in his army fatigues.

"Say hello to your sister, Ricky," mum says firmly. What happens next nearly breaks my heart.

"No," Ricky says flatly. "Because he's not my sister, he's my brother."

"Laura has made the decision to live her life as a girl," grandma explains.

"You can't just 'decide' something like that," Ricky says, actually laughing at the situation. "He was born a boy, and that's what he is."

"The doctors would disagree with you there," mum says smugly, handing Ricky my written diagnosis of gender dysphoria. Ricky, however, rips it in half without even reading it.

"Anyone can write anything on a piece of paper and say it's true," Ricky argues. "That doesn't mean it actually is true."

"Richard White!" Grandma scolds. "You were not raised as a bigot!"

"No, I was raised as a boy," Ricky scoffs. "Something you seem to have forgotten how to do."

"If Laura wanted to live her life as a boy, she would live her life as a boy," mum says, clearly getting angry with her son. "She chose to live life as a girl, and we have respected her wishes, and you will do the same!"

"No I won't," Ricky says flippantly. "Because it's not normal, and it's not right. If he'd said 'I want to live life as a dog', would you have let him?"

"That argument doesn't even make any sense," grandma sneers.

"You're not an idiot," mum sighs. "You know that there are people in the world who choose to live their life as the opposite gender to the one they were born into. Like that woman who directed the Matrix- one of your favourite films, need I remind you- or that Burke girl who's always on TV."

"Yeah," Ricky nods. "And if saw either of those people on the street I'd probably punch them for what they are."

"RICKY!" Grandma snaps.

"Leon deserves to be punched in the face for what he is," Ricky states bluntly, bringing tears to my eyes. "It's a miracle you haven't got him beaten up every day at secondary school or worse, and it's only a matter of time before he comes home in an ambulance."

"The whole world is not as closed-minded and as bigoted as you," mum growls. "And Laura- and that is HER name, LAURA- most certainly does not deserve to be punched in the face, EVER. You apologise to her right now!"

"No," Ricky sneers. "If anything, she's the one who should be apologising to me!"

"Laura has nothing to be sorry for!" Grandma snaps. "She is a kind, sweet girl who deserves better from one of the people who should be supporting her the most!"

"LEON is living a fantasy, and you're endangering him by letting him carry on with this farce," Ricky retorts, anger finally seeping onto his face. "Frankly I ought to call social services on both of you now."

"GET OUT!" Grandma snaps. Ricky, knowing better than to argue with the fierce woman, stoically picks himself off the sofa and leaves- but he leaves his kit in the hallway, meaning that he'll be back. With my so-called brother gone, I collapse into floods of tears and have to be helped to the sofa by mum and grandma.

"There there," the elderly woman says soothingly. "Let it out. And remember- you're never too big for a cuddle from your grandma. You only THINK you're too big!" I giggle as I dry my eyes and try to forget about what just happened.

After an hour of being comforted by the two most important women in my life, grandma offers to drive me to Nicole's- an offer I gratefully accept.

"Did you tell me you were having your nails done today?" Grandma asks, and I nod in response. "Good, I do hope you'll show me them before the end of half term!" I let out a small giggle at grandma's request.

"Of course," I say happily. "Assuming Ricky doesn't make me wash it all off..."

"Don't you do a single thing that boy says!" Grandma says firmly. "Your brother's in desperate need of an attitude adjustment, and if he doesn't get one by the end of the week, I'll give it to him!" I giggle again at the amazing elderly woman's strength of character.

"Hi Laura!" Nicole squeaks excitedly, giving me a quick hug as I enter her modest house. "Megan's already here, Priya & Suriya should be over in a bit. Are you excited? This is the first time you'll have worn nail polish, right?"

"Right!" I say, excited by the prospect of the nail treatment but still worried about the reaction it'll get from my brother.

"Hey Laura!" Megan says with a smile as I enter the kitchen and gasp in awe at the multicoloured bottles of nail polish on the counter.

"Aww," I sigh. "This looks so cool!"

"It is," Megan replies. "Just a pity we can't wear nail polish at school..."

"So we're going to have to make the most of it during the holidays!" Nicole announces smugly. "Laura, as it's your first ever manicure, you can go first!"

"Shouldn't we wait for Priya and Suriya to get here?" I ask.

"Nah," Nicole says, "they won't mind. Now come on!" Almost shaking with excitement, I sit down and hold out my hands for Nicole, who expertly covers my fingernails in a pale red polish before placing a stencil over each nail and adding three tiny white hearts to each one! As Nicole finishes with my last nail, the kitchen door opens and Priya and Suriya enter, giggling excitedly at the strong smell of the polish.

"Ooh, ooh, show me!" Suriya asks. Still giggling, I show my friends my new nails, and for a second, all my problems melt away as though they were nothing. Everything Ricky said earlier was wrong, dead wrong. I AM a girl, at least in the eyes of my friends. Their opinions matter to me- Ricky's doesn't.

Suriya and Priya are next to receive the treatment- getting black nails with pink hearts- followed by Megan, who opts for a neon pink polish with no hearts, and finally Nicole, who paints each nail a different colour, like a rainbow!

After our nails have dried we spend the rest of the day listening to music, dancing, flicking through Nicole's extensive magazine collection, before the time finally comes for me to return home, courtesy of Megan's mum- who can't stop commenting on how pretty our nails are!

"Mum, I'm home," I say happily as I walk through the door, before my hearts leaps into my throat at the sight of Ricky, who is once again sat on the sofa in the living room.

"Did you have fun at Nicole's?" Mum asks, either unaware of or unwilling to acknowledge my tension at being in the same room as my brother.

"Yes," I say, sitting down and trying to avoid the gaze that's burning a hole in my skull.

"Show me your nails!" Mum says excitedly. Still nervous- almost terrified, in fact- I stand up and show my mother Nicole's creations.

"Aw, it looks so cute!" Mum coos. "Show your brother them!" Almost frozen to the spot, all I can do is shake my head.

"No, show me," Ricky says calmly. Unable to hold my hands still with nerves, I show Ricky my new nails. To my relief, he just looks them over once, letting out a disinterested grunt before sitting back in his seat.

"So," mum says. "Now that your sister's back, tell us what you've been getting up to in the army!" I sit back down on my sofa and listen to Ricky's tales of soldiers, guns and training exercises. Not a single mention is made of my new life, right up to and including the point where I climb into bed just after 9:30pm. I've just huddled under my blankets in my pink nightdress when my door opens and Ricky walks in uninvited, sitting down on the edge of my bed.

"Now that mum and grandma aren't here," Ricky says bluntly, "tell me why you're doing this to yourself."

"I've always wanted to be a girl," I say, cowering under Ricky's stoic gaze.

"No you haven't," Ricky replies. "You were born a boy, that means you want to be a boy. No one will ever accept you as a girl, so you should just give up now and go back to what you're supposed to be."

"My friends accept me as a girl," I say defiantly.

"They're all 11 year old girls," Ricky snorts. "Their opinion doesn't count for anything."

"I'M an 11 year old girl," I retort.

"Exactly," Ricky says. "And your opinion doesn't matter for anything either. By the end of half term, Leon, you WILL be a boy again. I'll make sure of it." Before I can retort, Ricky leaves my room and I once again huddle underneath my blankets, only this time, I'm not shivering because of the cold.

"Hey Laura!" Megan says to me, reaching out her hand to take mine. Stood next to her are Nicole, Priya and Suriya, all wearing their school uniforms, beckoning me toward them. As I try to step toward them, however, a strong arm wraps itself around my waist, and I'm unable to take even a single step forward.

"No," Ricky says, dragging me backwards as my uniform transforms into the shirt and trousers every boy wears. "It's not for you."

"NOT. FOR. YOU." Ricky repeats as I wake up with a start.

After washing (and taking care not to mess up my new nails), I dress for the day in black tights, a knee-length denim skirt and a glittery pink sweater. Feeling extra defiant, I apply a little mascara before heading downstairs to breakfast where, as before, Ricky simply stares at me as I eat.

"So," mum announces, trying to break the tension. "What have you got planned for today, Ricky?"

"I just thought I'd hang out at home with my little brother," Ricky says bluntly.

"You don't have a little brother," mum retorts, barely suppressing a growl.

"I will do again soon," Ricky says confidently. Clearly unhappy, mum turns to me and smiles.

"Laura," mum says. "What do you want to do today?"

"I dunno," I shrug. "I might see if Megan's free, I know Nicole, Priya and Suriya are busy."

"Who's Megan?" Ricky asks. "Is she your girlfriend?"

"Stop," mum says firmly. "Just stop, stop now."

"What?" Ricky asks incredulously. "He's twelve next month, I wasn't that much older when I had my first girlfriend."

"You've met Megan before," I snort at the smug young man. "She used to go to my primary school."

"Oh yeah, her," Ricky says. "Have you snogged her yet?"

"Shut up," I retort, feeling the anger build inside me- an anger Ricky can seemingly sense.

"Oh come on," Ricky laughs. "Have you snogged her yet?"

"I said STOP," mum repeats. "Laura, don't answer your brother's question if you don't want to."

"Just say yes or no," Ricky says, defiantly ignoring our mother. "Have you snogged her yet?"

"No," I answer, futilely hoping this will end my brother's probing.

"Why not?" Ricky asks.

"Because I don't want to," I reply.

"But why not?" Ricky presses further.

"I just don't want to!" I squeal, barely suppressing tears.

"But why not?" Ricky repeats. "There has to be a reason, she's a girl, and you're a boy, and sooner or later you're going to have to get a girlfriend, why not be the first in your class?"

"I'M NOT A BOY!" I scream, making Ricky laugh happily in my face.

"ENOUGH!" Mum snaps. "Ricky, apologise for calling your sister a boy."

"What?" Ricky says, still laughing from my outburst. "He IS a boy. That's like asking me to apologise to a bird for saying it has wings. He is what he is, and you both need to stop living this fantasy sooner rather than later."

"Whatever you have planned for today," mum says, "you won't be doing it around your sister."

"I don't HAVE a sister," Ricky retorts smugly.

"If I see you aggravating Laura again," mum growls, "you will be spending the rest of your leave in a youth hostel that YOU pay for."

"I can't believe you're kicking me out for telling the truth," Ricky chuckles.

"I can't believe I raised such a closed-minded, intolerant child," mum says with clear disappointment in her voice. With no comeback, Ricky eats the rest of his breakfast in silence.

"Laura," mum says softly. "What do you want to do today?" The way I feel right now, there's only one thing I want to do.

"Can we go round grandma's?" I ask meekly, smiling happily when mum nods.

Mum and I arrive at grandma's just after 11am, Ricky having opted out of the trip in favour of meeting with old school friends, though it's clear that he really doesn't want to get into another argument he knows he can't win. He'll happily argue with mum all day long, but when it comes to our grandmother, he's a lot less eager!

"Don't you look pretty!" Grandma enthuses as we enter her house. "Show me your nails!" Giggling happily, I show grandma my new fingernails, giggling louder and louder as grandma coos over them. "Is Ricky not with you?"

"No," mum sighs. "We had another falling out over breakfast, about 'you know what'."

"Like I said to Laura yesterday, that boy needs a real attitude adjustment," grandma states. "Guess it's just us girls today, then!"

"Yep!" I say happily. "No BOYS allowed!"

I spend the rest of the day at grandma's, showing off my new nails, dancing yet more ballet steps for her and for mum and looking through old photo albums. Grandma went into great detail about life as a schoolgirl in the early 1950s, and I hung on every word, especially when mum made comparisons to her school time from the 1980s!

When we arrived home, Ricky wasn't present, nor was his kit bag, much to my surprise and relief. After an evening of homework and TV, I change into my nightdress and climb under my sheets, getting ready to go to sleep when, as last night, my door opens, only this time it's mum who sits down on the side of my bed.

"Laura," mum says softly. "I know it's not easy having Ricky here, but it is only for one week."

"He's never going to accept me as a girl," I sigh, prompting mum to give me a big hug.

"Yes he will," mum says. "Like your grandma says, he needs an attitude adjustment. By the end of the week, I'm sure he'll grow to love having a sister."

"He said that by the end of the week, he'll have forced me to become a boy again," I whine.

"Never going to happen!" Mum says with a confident smile. "Laura, if you ever choose to be a boy again, then I'll support you, but only if it's YOUR choice. And from what I've seen over the last couple of months, you love being a girl, right?"

"Right," I nod.

"And would you ever want to be a boy again?" Mum asks, and I shake my head in response.

"Then you won't be," mum states. "If you want to be a girl for the rest of your life, that's what you'll be, and there's nothing Ricky or anyone else can do about it! Goodnight, Laura."

"Goodnight, mum," I say happily as mum switches out my light.

"Come on, Princess Laura!" Nicole squeaks happily, taking my gloved hand as she leads me toward the grand ballroom. We're both dressed in long, sparkling gowns and long opera gloves, and we're both dripping with beautiful jewels, including diamond-encrusted tiaras. Ahead of us are Megan- dressed similarly to myself and Nicole- and Priya & Suriya, who are both wearing beautiful saris and golden headdresses, looking every inch the Indian princesses that they are. As I look behind me, I can see Ricky staring at me disapprovingly, but all I have to do is poke a tongue out of my red lips, and he's gone.

My alarm clock wakes me up at 7:30am- the time I usually get up for school- and I sigh, wishing I could have remained in that wonderful dream just a little while longer. After washing, I dress in my same jumper from yesterday, only I pull on my longest skirt over my black tights, loving the feeling of it swishing around my legs, just as my princess's dress had in my dream.

"Morning!" Mum says happily as I sit down to breakfast, my brother nowhere to be found.

"Where's Ricky?" I ask.

"He's got plans today and tomorrow, he won't be back until Wednesday afternoon," mum says, and I smile happily.

"Good," I say.

"I do wish you two would just get on," mum sighs. "I know it's not your fault, but-"

"I wish we could too," I say. "But it's HIS fault that we don't."

"I know, I know," mum sighs. "What time are Nicole and Megan getting here?"

"Some time after 10am," I say. "Mum, for my birthday next month..."

"Yes?" Mum asks.

"...I want to be a princess," I say.

"You ARE a princess," mum says, gently stroking my back.

"No, I mean, I want to be a proper princess, just for one day," I say. "I want to wear a sparkly dress, wear make-up..."

"You mean like your friends' parties when you were younger?" Mum asks, and I nod. "Well, okay, it might be a little young for you, but then I guess you did miss out on it when you WERE young. How about this: I take you and your friends for makeovers, you wear your poshest dresses, and we have a sort-of 'banquet' at home?"

"I don't have any posh dresses," I say sadly.

"Well then," mum says with a smile. "I know what your main present's going to be!" I giggle happily as I continue my breakfast.

As promised, Nicole and Megan arrive shortly after 10am and we spend the whole day gossiping, listening to music and creating dance routines to Taylor Swift and One Direction. Every time I'm with my friends, I find it easier and easier to forget that I was ever a boy, especially when Nicole applies glittery make-up to our eyelids! When I mention mum's idea for my birthday, however, Nicole gets extra excited.

"Oh my god!" Nicole squeaks, putting away her make-up brush. "I had NO idea it was your birthday next month! Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to invite you to my party!" I laugh. "Figured I'd bring it up next week when we were back at school."

"Yeah, but you must've known, right?" Nicole asks Megan.

"I'm not in any of your classes!" My oldest friend replies. "I figured you'd already been told!"

"Well I HADN'T," Nicole says mock-accusingly. "So we're all getting makeovers and wearing our poshest dresses? It sounds AWESOME!"

"It does!" Megan giggles as she takes my place in the 'make-up chair'. "Kinda reminds me of my 9th birthday party..."

"I remember that," I sigh. "You and your friends dressed up as princesses, and I had to be Prince Charming..."

"Oh, that's just not fair," Nicole says. "You never really had a dress-up party!"

"No," I sigh. "But it's okay, I mean, I'll be dressing up on Thursday, right?" I keep my secret desire to be a princess to myself- even though it's clear Nicole would probably approve of the theme.

"Yeah, but it's not the same..." Nicole sighs.

At the end of the day I'm actually reluctant to wash off my pretty eye make-up, as I am the following day after another girly day with Nicole and Megan, this time at Megan's house.

By the time I wake up on Wednesday morning, dressing in glittery black tights, a flared knee-length grey skirt and a rainbow coloured jumper, I'm as immersed in femininity as I've ever been. I practically bounce downstairs to breakfast, but the spring completely leaves my step when I see Ricky sat at the breakfast table, piercing me with his silent, judgemental stare.

"Morning, Laura!" Mum says happily. "Your brother's come back early."

"Oh," I say, wilting under my brother's constant gaze. "Hi."

I try to eat my breakfast, but with my brother's gaze constantly fixed on me, my appetite is virtually non-existent.

"What have you got planned for today, Ricky?" Mum asks in a vain effort to defuse the tension.

"I thought I'd take Leon for a haircut," Ricky states bluntly, making me nearly vomit my porridge back up.

"Laura doesn't need a haircut," mum says. "If anything, HER hair needs to grow out a bit more."

"No, his hair's too long," Ricky says dismissively, before turning his gaze back to me. "How short do you want your hair cut?"

"I don't want a haircut," I mumble.

"Don't be stupid, of course you want a haircut," Ricky says dismissively. "How short do you want it cut, a number 4, a number 2?"

"I don't want a haircut," I repeat.

"No, you do want a haircut," Ricky states bluntly.

"ENOUGH!" Mum snaps. "I don't know why I thought two days away would actually help you think more clearly."

"I'm thinking perfectly clearly," Ricky laughs. "You're the one who's stuck in fantasy world. Here's the reality: Leon's a boy, he's always been a boy, will always be a boy, and what's he doing right now is pathetic and dangerous and it NEEDS TO STOP. I'm quite happy to pay for the haircut, it can be my treat to him."

"If I hear one more word about a haircut," mum says through gritted teeth, "you will not only spend the rest of this leave in a youth hostel, you'll spend the rest of EVERY leave there as well." This thankfully shuts Ricky up, though his gaze remains fixed on me throughout breakfast. Once I'm finished eating, I make a beeline for the telephone and quickly tap in Nicole's number.

"Hello?" Nicole says, answering the phone herself after a few rings.

"Hi Nicole!" I say, mustering up as much enthusiasm as I could. "Are you doing anything today?"

"Ah, sorry Laura," Nicole says, making my heart sink. "My parents are taking me to see my aunt and uncle... I'll see you tonight at ballet though!" I put on a brave face despite my disappointment.

"Cool!" I say happily. "I'll see you then!" After Nicole hangs up, I immediately dial Megan's number.

"Hello?" The older female voice- obviously Megan's mum- says.

"Hello," I say politely. "Can I speak to Megan please? It's Laura."

"Oh, Hi Laura," Megan's mum says. "I'm sorry, but Megan's not available to talk, we're about to go out shopping for her ballet uniform. She's very excited to be joining you girls tonight!"

"Oh," I say disappointedly. "Can- can I come along, please?"

"That's a kind offer," Megan's mother says, "but we have a lot to do today, I'm afraid."

"Oh, well please tell Megan I'll see her tonight!" I say.

"Will do!" Megan's mum says, before hanging up the phone. Sighing, I dial Priya & Suriya's number.

"Hello, Malik residence," the sisters' father says.

"Hello Mr. Malik," I say.

"Oh, hello Laura!" The kind Indian gentleman says. "If you're wanting to speak to Priya or Suriya, I'm afraid they're both busy helping prepare the house for Diwali, so they won't be able to play with you today."

"Oh," I say. Priya & Suriya were my last hopes- I obviously can't call Harriet, and there's absolutely no way I can spend the whole day in the house with Ricky.

"Can-" I begin. "Can I help out? Can I join in, please?"

"Of course you can!" Mr. Malik says happily. "Provided your mother approves, of course, but would you really rather come and do housework than stay at home and play?"

"I would, yes," I say with a smile.

"Your mother has a very good daughter!" Mr. Malik says with a laugh. "We'll be at home all day: drop round when you can." I smile and head back into the kitchen, standing tall despite Ricky's withering gaze.

"Priya and Suriya have invited me around to their house," I half-lie. "Can you drive me there before work, please?"

"What about your haircut?" Ricky asks, clearly hurt that I've chosen not to spend my day with him.

"Of course I can!" Mum says happily, disregarding Ricky's upset tone of voice.

"But what about his haircut?" Ricky asks.

"If you want a haircut that badly, YOU get one," mum says smugly as I run upstairs to put on my shoes and coat. Less than half an hour later, I arrive at the Mailks' posh house to be greeted with hugs by both Priya and Suriya, both of whom are wearing dark red bindis on their foreheads in addition to plain (yet still beautiful) turquoise saris.

"Hi Laura!" Priya says excitedly. "Dad says you want to help us prepare the house for Diwali, is this right?"

"Yep," I say with a smile.

"Really?" Suriya asks. "Because if I had my choice, it’s not how I'd choose to spend half term..."

"Well..." I say with a sigh. "My brother's come home for the week from the army, and I really don't want to spend time around him."

"Oh no, that's so sad," Priya says. "Do you not love him?"

"I... I don't know," I say. "I mean, he's my brother, I want to love him, but he's such an arrogant idiot. He completely refuses to acknowledge that I'm a girl."

"Has he not seen your nails?" Suriya asks with a giggle.

"He's just physically incapable of accepting that he's wrong," I moan as I follow the girls to Priya's bedroom and start tidying it up. After seeing Priya dressed in her exotic clothes, it's almost a shock to discover that her bedroom is just as untidy as that of any other pre-teen girl's, with posters hanging off the walls and cosmetics randomly scattered about the room.

"Our brother is like that sometimes," Suriya laughs. "How old is your brother?"

"Twenty," I reply. "He's been in the army two years, I don't think he'd suit any other lifestyle."

"Our brother's seventeen," Suriya explains. "Just started at a science college. Used to tease us both constantly when we were younger."

"How did he grow out of it?" I ask.

"I don't think he ever did, or ever will," Priya laughs. "But we love him nonetheless. You know, the final day of Diwali is the Bhai Dooj. That's a day when brothers and sisters renew their love for each other."

"How do you do that?" I ask, genuinely fascinated by the festival.

"We get presents!" Suriya says excitedly.

"It's a bit more than that," Priya laughs. "Mohan blesses us both before giving us presents, and we pray for him and apply a tilak- a mark like a bindi, but different- to his forehead."

"It sounds so cool," I sigh. "I wish I was Hindu..."

"You can celebrate Diwali even if you're not Hindu," Priya says with a smile. "We get presents at Christmas, but we're obviously not Christians!"

"Priya's birthday is December 3rd, so she gets two whole months' worth of presents!" Suriya jokes.

"I... Somehow doubt my brother would go for that," I laugh.

"Have you asked him?" Priya asks, and I shake my head. "When does he go back to the army?"

"Wednesday," I sigh.

"The Bhai Dooj is Tuesday, Bonfire Night," Priya explains. "Dad's holding a big fireworks display on Sunday and on Tuesday. You should come along."

"I'll even lend you my sari again!" Suriya says.

"I still doubt he'll go for it," I sigh.

"Then don't tell him it's for the Bhai Dooj!" Priya laughs. "Tell him it's a fireworks display!" I smile wickedly as I remember Ricky tricking me into my haircut back in the summer- I can't think of any better way to take revenge for that.

"Okay," I say with a smile. "I'll be there!"

"Girls!" Mr. Malik calls from downstairs. "Rajkumariyom! Time for lunch!"

"What did he say?" I ask as I follow the sisters down to the kitchen. "Raj...?"

"Rajkumariyom," Priya says with a smile. "It means 'princesses'."

"Aww," I say with a smile as I take my seat for lunch.

Even though we're doing housework, I'm happier spending the day with the Maliks than I ever would have been at home with Ricky- which is where Mr. Malik drops me off at 4pm. I gulp as see from the lack of car in the driveway that mum isn't home yet.

"See you tonight for ballet!" Priya says, waving along with her sister as their father drives them home.

"Hi Leon," Ricky says as I walk through the door. "Did you get your haircut?"

"My name's Laura," I say defiantly. "And no I didn't."

"Well that's okay," Ricky says, brandishing a pair of scissors. "If you sit down, I can cut it for you now."

"NO!" I say, already starting to get upset.

"Well it's going to need to get cut eventually," Ricky says, laughing at my unhappiness. "Why not do it sooner rather than later?" Unable to respond to my brother, I simply head upstairs into my bedroom, pushing my bed against the door to prevent Ricky from entering until mum arrives home just under an hour later.

"Hi Laura," mum says as I head down the stairs to greet her. "Did you have fun with Priya and Suriya?"

"Yeah," I say with a smile. "It was really good hanging out with them today."

"And it's your big Halloween party tomorrow too!" Mum enthuses. "Have you decided on your costume yet?"

"You should go as a soldier," Ricky says, earning disapproving stares from both myself and our mother.

"I might just wear my ballet gear," I say. "Think that's what Megan's doing."

"Why do you do ballet?" Ricky asks.

"Because I enjoy it," I say.

"Yeah, but why?" Ricky asks with a shrug.

"Don't start this again," mum orders. "Your sister has a hobby she enjoys doing, you had similar hobbies when you were twelve."

"When I was twelve I joined the army cadets," Ricky states bluntly.

"Exactly," mum says.

"It's hardly the same thing," Ricky snorts. "The cadets helped me prepare for a career, before that I was in the scouts and learned useful skills. The only thing you learn from ballet is how to look silly prancing around in a tutu all day."

"That's not true!" I shout defensively.

"Yeah, it is," Ricky laughs dismissively, sensing my irritation.

"You've never had a dance lesson in your life," mum says to my older brother. "You have no idea what Laura or anyone else would learn from it!"

"Tell you what," Ricky says, sitting back smugly. "How about I come along to Leon's lesson today, and you show me exactly how it's helping him gain necessary life skills?" My first instinct is to shudder- the thought of Ricky ruining my lesson is almost too much to bear, but then I remember that my teacher isn't the type of woman who would allow herself to be cowed by an idiot like Ricky.

"Okay," I say, taking both mum and Ricky by surprise.

"Are- are you sure?" Mum asks.

"Yeah, why not?" I say with a smile that, for probably the first time in my life, catches Ricky off guard.

After dinner I head upstairs to change into my pink ballet tights, my light blue leotard, my light blue dance skirt and my canvas ballet slippers, before pulling on a light blue dance cardigan and skipping down the stairs to where my mother and brother are waiting. Needless to see, when Ricky sees me dressed as a ballerina, his disapproving stare becomes more intense than ever, but he says nothing as mum drives us both to the dance studio, picking up Megan and Nicole on the way.

"First lesson today!" I say to Megan, who's giggling with excitement.

"Yep!" Megan says with a wide grin. "I'm really looking forward to it... Now all five of us are ballerina buddies!"

"Yay!" Nicole cheers, also fidgeting excitedly. In the front seat, I see Ricky open his mouth as though he was about to say something, but a stern glare from mum immediately closes his mouth again.

Once we arrive at the studio we're greeted by Priya and Suriya, who are both as excited as myself and Nicole by Megan's first lesson- though obviously not as excited as Megan herself! I can't help but be surprised too by how different the sisters look in their ballet uniforms when compared to earlier in the day, especially with their long, thick black hair scraped back into severe ballerina buns.

"Hey girls, love all of your nails!" Miss Fullerton says. "You're Megan Cartman, right?" Megan nods, still giggling excitedly.

"It's great that you could join us," the tall dance teacher continues. "And great that you have four friends who could help you up the waiting list! I'll be working with you today to get you up to speed. Have you ever taken ballet before?"

"Yeah, but I stopped when I was eight," Megan explains.

"Aww, that's such a pity, you look so happy to be here!" Miss Fullerton coos.

"I am," Megan says, smiling at the four of us, smiles we happily return.

"Miss Fullerton," I say nervously. "My brother's come to watch today, is that okay?" The tall dance teacher looks at my brother nonchalantly, before shrugging her shoulders.

"As long as he stays out of trouble, it's okay," she says with a giggle, before ushering the five of us- along with the rest of the class- into the studio, my mother and brother following closely afterwards to take a seat at the side of the class.

"That's your brother?" Suriya whispers as we take our places at the barre. "He doesn't look so terrible..."

"Just wait until he opens his mouth," I whisper back as Miss Fullerton starts a music track on her laptop, officially beginning the class.

Sixty minutes later, after we've danced our hearts out, Ricky approaches me with a smug smirk on his face.

"Actually I can see why you'd come here," my brother says. "I'd want to have your teacher too."

"Ricky!" Mum snaps. "That is a completely inappropriate thing to say to an 11 year old girl!"

"What?" Ricky protests. "It's not like he doesn't know what sex is." Almost as if she'd sensed what we were talking about, my dance teacher approaches us with a smug grin of her own.

"Hi," Miss Fullerton says, extending a perfectly manicured hand. "You must be Laura's brother. She's not talked much about you."

"Oh, you must be confused," Ricky says. "He's not a girl, he's a boy pretending to be a girl." I almost wince at the evil look that fills Miss Fullerton's eyes, before remembering that everything that is about to happen, Ricky brought on himself.

"SHE is living her life as a girl," Miss Fullerton says smugly. "SHE has a signed document stating that SHE is a girl trapped in a boy's body." Not strictly true, but close enough, I guess.

"Yeah, well I ripped that document up, which means that HE's now a boy," Ricky scoffs.

"Oh, so you're a vandal as well as a bigot?" Miss Fullerton asks, her smirk completely disarming Ricky's.

"No, I'm living in the REAL WORLD," Ricky states, clearly irritated by the tall girl's dismissal of his argument. "You're the ones living in a fantasy land."

"Yeah, well your 'real world'," Miss Fullerton continues, making exaggerated air quotes, "went extinct at around the same time my grandparents were my age. You're welcome to join us in the 'real world' of 2013 any time you want."

"It doesn't matter what year it is," Ricky scoffs. "You can't simply say one day 'I'm a girl' and expect everyone to accept that."

"Except I HAVE accepted it," Miss Fullerton retorts with her widest possible smile. "Her mum's accepted it, her grandmother's accepted it, her friends have accepted it, her school's accepted it... Seems like you're the odd one out here, which means that YOU'RE the one living in fantasy world!"

"If you weren't a woman, I would punch you in the face," Ricky sneers.

"Oh, so you're a thug in addition to a bigot, a vandal and a bully?" Miss Fullerton asks. "It's a wonder you came from the same DNA as an amazing girl like Laura." Much to my horror, Ricky then draws back a clenched fist, but Miss Fullerton simply stands there, unfazed.

"Go ahead, brave man!" Miss Fullerton laughs. Much to my relief, Ricky lowers his fist before storming out of the dance studio, his cheeks burning under the stares of the assembled students and parents. Immediately as he's gone, my dance teacher nearly doubles over, panting heavily following the confrontation.

"Oh god," Miss Fullerton says as mum and Mr. Malik help her to a chair. "I honestly thought for a second he would..."

"I am so, so sorry," mum grovels. "I don't know what came over him, I've never been so ashamed..."

"It's fine," Miss Fullerton says, still visibly shaking. "He's an adult. At least LEGALLY an adult, he knew what he was doing. Obviously if he shows up here again I'm calling the police."

"That's understandable," mum says. "Can I get you anything?"

"Yeah, can you get me a chocolate bar, please?" Miss Fullerton asks. "Think I can feel a hypoglycemia attack coming on..."

"Laura, go and get a Snickers bar," Mum says, handing me a pound coin.

"Uh, not Snickers," Miss Fullerton says. "Peanut allergy. Anything else without nuts is fine. I'll pay you back when I get back to my desk."

"Nonsense," mum says, dismissing me and the rest of the girls to the vending machine. "It's my son's fault, I should pay for it..."

"You weren't kidding about your brother," Priya mutters as I buy a Mars bar from the vending machine.

"I've never seen him THAT bad," I say quietly. "My change must have really affected him..."

"Well that's HIS problem," Nicole says firmly. "If he can't accept that you're a girl, then HE has no place in this 'real world' he keeps talking about!"

"His 'real world' is basically the army and nothing else," I whine.

"Are you still coming to the Bhai Dooj bonfire?" Suriya asks in a small, trembling voice.

"I don't know," I sigh, shaking my head.

"You're still coming to Halloween tomorrow, right?" Nicole asks, bringing a smile back to my face.

"Of course!" I grin as we head back to our stricken dance teacher. "Never been trick or treating before..."

"Thanks," Miss Fullerton says, taking the chocolate from me and quickly tucking into it. "Fast metabolisms are great for being a model, not great for confrontations with angry family members..."

"Again, I am so, so sorry," mum says. "If there's anything I can do, just let me know."

"Just one thing," Miss Fullerton says, the colour returning to her cheeks. "Make sure your amazing daughter never leaves this class!"

I leave the class with a smile on my face, but the smile disappears as I see Ricky sat in the passenger seat of mum's car, still furious from his 'incident'.

"I'll take Nicole and Megan home," Mr. Malik says softly, ushering my four friends into his people carrier. Silently, mum and I get into our car and drive away, but we barely get out of sight of the studio when Ricky speaks up.

"I can't believe you'd humiliate me like that, Leon," Ricky spits. Almost immediately, the car screeches to a halt.

"Out," mum orders.

"Mum's telling you to get out, Leon," Ricky says smugly. "You'd better do as she says."

"YOU!" Mum snaps, turning to my brother. "Out, now. Find a youth hostel as you will not be welcome in my house tonight." With a shocked expression on his face, Ricky exits the car, staring at us in disbelief as we drive away.

"Will- will he be okay?" I ask, staring at my receding brother in the rear windscreen.

"He's constantly telling us about how the army's trained him to survive," mum spits. "He'll be fine." Mum keeps a steely look on her face all the way home, but once we get through the front door, she almost immediately breaks down crying.

"Mum?" I ask in a tiny voice. "Are- are you okay?"

"No," mum says, giving me a cuddle as I start to cry too.

"If... If you want me to start being a boy again..." I begin, dreading what my mum's answer might be.

"NO!" Mum says firmly, a smile returning to her face. "Don't you ever dare offer that! HE's the one in the wrong, not you! You be a girl for as long as you want, and if that's for the rest of your life, then your brother will have to learn to deal with it."

I get to bed shortly afterwards, but I leave my ballet uniform out on my chair, which I change back into the following morning after a very quiet, awkward breakfast.

"Hey Laura!" Nicole says happily as mum drops me off at her house. "Ballet uniform isn't TECHNICALLY a costume, but we can improve it with make-up! Come on!" Giggling happily, I follow Nicole into her house where she gives me a horror-themed makeover, consisting of thick eyeliner, pale face make-up and jet black lipstick. She also repaints my fingernails in jet black with white ghost stencils, a treatment she also gives to Megan, Priya and Suriya when they arrive. Megan's wearing a long, black dress with a long black wig- obviously meant to be a vampire or a witch- whilst Priya and Suriya are wearing long-legged unitards with skeletons printed on the front. Nicole, of course, is dressed as a devil in a tattered red dress with red tights, as well as horns and a tail.

"I kinda feel out of place," I moan as I look at my friends in their costumes.

"Did you not have, like, a 'proper' Halloween costume at home?" Priya asks, and I shake my head sadly.

"We're not very well-off," I explain. "It's just me and mum and home and she works whenever she can, but she still has to be home when I am..."

"Doesn't your brother contribute to the household?" Suriya asks.

"Not anymore," I sigh. "Not since he joined the army."

"Did-did he go home with you last night?" Megan asks cautiously.

"NO," I say with a smile on my face, making the other four girls giggle.

"Good," Nicole says. "Hopefully wherever he is, he's learning the PROPER way to treat girls! And as for your costume, it'd be fine if it wasn't light blue... Fortunately, I have an old black swimsuit I don't wear any more, you can wear that if you'd like?"

"And I have a black tutu at home," Megan says. "It'll be a bit small but it should still fit you. I've also got a spare black wig."

"And I know you have black tights," Nicole says to me. "I'll get my mum to run us around, you can gather your costume together and be a proper 'evil' ballerina!"

"You- you wouldn't mind?" I ask, awed by my friends' generous offers.

"You're my friend!" Nicole laughs. "Of course I don't mind! As long as I get to borrow some of your amazing clothes one of these days..."

"Anything you want, any time," I giggle as Nicole leads the five of us- and her mum- to her mum's car.

"Well," Nicole grins. "There is that AMAZING maxi skirt you wore on Monday..."

"Ah," I grimace. "It's in the wash at the moment... But once it's dry, it's yours!"

"Yay!" Nicole giggles, giving me a quick hug. After picking Megan's tutu up from her house, we stop at my house, where I walk in the door to find mum sat in her chair waiting for me.

"Mum?" I ask. "Wh-what's up? I thought you were at work today..."

"Laura," mum says softly. "It's your brother."

"What's happened?" I ask, suddenly shaking and leaning on the sofa for support.

"He's ended his leave early," mum explains. "He said- and these are HIS words, not mine- that he 'can't live in a house where his wishes are ignored'."

"But I'm not ignoring his wishes," I sob. "He's ignoring mine!"

"That's what I tried to tell him," mum says. "I told him that you wanted to be his sister, but he said- no, it doesn't matter what he said. You don't need to hear it, because he's WRONG. And if he can't accept you as his sister, then he doesn't deserve to have ANY siblings."

"Oh," I say, sitting down on the sofa before remembering that my friends are waiting for me outside. "I, um, I only came home to get some black tights for my costume."

"Then run upstairs and get some," mum says with a smile. "Don't let Ricky ruin your half term. It's Halloween! You should be having fun, not worrying about an idiot like him. Go!"

"Will- will you be alright?" I ask.

"I may have an obnoxious idiot of a son," mum says, "but I have a wonderful, kind and beautiful daughter. I'll be fine." I exchange a smile with my mother as I run upstairs to grab the stretchy legwear.

Once we're back at Nicole's house, I change into my 'new' costume, putting my ballet uniform in a bag to take home at the end of the day. Nicole's swimsuit is a lot tighter than my leotard- or my school swimsuit, for that matter- but it still fits fine, and when combined with the black tights, tutu, wig and make-up, completes my 'evil ballerina' look perfectly. I decide not to tell my friends about my brother- I don't want to ruin everyone's fun, after all- and as I return home just after 7pm with a bag full of sweets (and a ballet uniform), I feel truly happy for the first time all week.

"Aww," mum says upon seeing my 'enhanced' costume. "You look so cute AND scary at the same time!"

"Thanks," I say, taking off Megan's wig and tutu and sitting down on the sofa. "I still feel kinda bad about Ricky, though..."

"As I've said countless times, it's HIS problem, not yours," mum insists.

"Yeah, but there's a way I can make everyone happy," I reply.

"Everyone EXCEPT yourself," mum says, sitting next to me and giving me a big hug. "Don't force yourself to be anything or anyone you don't want to be just because other people react badly, regardless of who they are."

"Even you?" I ask.

"Even me!" Mum laughs. "Like now, when I'm tell you that you're wearing FAR too much make-up!" I can't help but giggle- even though I know that mum is of course right!

After reluctantly washing off my make-up and stripping out of the tight costume, I climb into bed actually relieved that I'll get three days of half-term free from my brother, but at the same time sad that we weren't able to find some way of coexisting. I wake up on the Friday morning and head down to breakfast wearing my favourite neon pink tights, a black denim skirt and a pink hoodie. My fingernails are still painted black, and despite mum's protests over my use of make-up, I apply a little mascara to my eyelashes to help me feel extra feminine.

"Morning," I say to my mother as she gives me my breakfast. I can tell from her facial expression, though, that she's still unhappy about the Ricky situation.

"Morning," mum says, forcing a smile onto her face. "Don't forget we're seeing Doctor Williamson today."

"I know," I say with a smile. "Do you think she'll be able to help with Ricky?"

"I don't know," mum sighs. "Eat up your breakfast before it gets cold."

After breakfast I put on my coat and shoes, ready to go out, but when I head down the stairs, I freeze as the front door opens and Ricky- looking a lot less confident than he usually does, despite wearing his uniform- walks through it.

"Hi, Le- La- hi," Ricky mumbles. "I just thought I'd say goodbye to mum before I go."

"Hi," I say coldly.

"Ricky," mum says. "I didn't expect to see you before you left."

"I just wanted to say goodbye," my brother says. "I don't know if I'll be back at Christmas," Ricky looks stoically up at me in my pink coat, dark nail polish and bright tights. "...probably not."

"We're just about to head out," mum says.

"Right, I won't keep you then," Ricky says.

"Laura has a weekly meeting with a counsellor," mum continues. "She's helping to guide her through her journey. You're welcome to come along too, if you want."

"I, um, don't think that'd help," Ricky says.

"When do you have to be back at the army?" Mum asks.

"Whenever," Ricky shrugs. "I'm still officially on leave until Wednesday, I can go back any time."

"Then you're coming with us," mum says firmly. Knowing better than to argue, Ricky drops his kit in the doorway and joins us as we head to the car- though unlike before, he isn't fixing me with a judgemental stare.

"Laura, Mrs. White," Dr Williamson says as we arrive at her office. "Please, come in. I'm guessing you're Ricky, right?"

"Yeah, hi," Ricky says, shaking the middle-aged woman's hand.

"I'm Dr Judith Williamson," my counsellor says as we all take our seats. "I've been helping your sister through her transition."

"I don't have a sister," Ricky says exasperatedly.

"Well, we'll have to agree to disagree about that," Dr Williamson replies.

"No," Ricky continues. "You'll have to agree that Leon is a boy, because that's what he is."

"Ricky!" Mum snaps at the young soldier, whose earlier humility has all but vanished.

"Do you know how I knew instantly who you were, without asking?" Dr Williamson asks my brother. "It's because in our sessions, Laura has consistently identified you as a source of stress and anxiety in her life."

"I've never done anything to make him stressed or anxious," Ricky scoffs, making mum's jaw drop through shock.

"How about the constant teasing?" Mum asks. "Forcing her to have that haircut in August, constantly trying to persuade her to do things that she doesn't want to do... And the way you've been staring at her all week?"

"That's harmless," Ricky retorts.

"'Harmless' doesn't make people cry," mum says.

"Then he should man up," Ricky snorts.

"Have you ever asked Laura what she wants, or how she feels when you're teasing her?" Dr Williamson asks.

"No, because I know better than him," Ricky replies. "I know that this isn't what he really wants, and he needs to grow out of it sooner rather than later."

"Just from this quick chat," Dr Williamson says, "I suspect that you may have a form of Narcissistic Personality Disorder. You have a strict vision of the world, and when something happens to challenge that vision- like your sister's transition- rather than change your thinking, you set out to change them to fit your way of thinking."

"Well, I can't help the way the world is," Ricky says.

"Perhaps not," Dr Williamson concedes. "But you CAN help the way you think about the world, and the way you act in it." Much to my surprise, Ricky remains silent, allowing my counsellor to continue.

"Laura has told me how miserable she was before her transition," Dr Williamson says. "She told me how she felt trapped, forced into a role she wasn't capable of filling. As a girl, she's much happier. She's living a life in which she feels free and comfortable and she has friends and family who accept her and her choices."

"Even if her choices are wrong?" Ricky asks.

"It's not a matter of 'right' or 'wrong'," the counsellor says. "The important thing is that they are her choices to make."

"And that's the first time you've said 'her' or 'she' instead of 'his' or 'him'," I say quietly, catching Ricky by surprise.

"Your brother, as you knew him, no longer exists," Dr Williamson says softly. "Your only choices are to accept your new sister, or leave." Much to my shock, Ricky sits back in his chair and continues to listen to Dr Williamson as, over the course of our counselling session, she analyses our week, offering her usual words of wisdom and strategies to cope with the stress- strategies that would've been infinitely useful last Saturday.

By the end of the session, it's clear that it will always be a struggle for Ricky to accept me as his sister, even if he is more comfortable using 'she' and 'her' than he was at the start of the day. He of course rejected the notion that he might have some sort of mental disorder himself, but even the tiniest step forward is still a step forward- and I feel closer to my brother now than I ever have done, even when I was Leon instead of Laura.

"Are you still planning on going back to your barracks tonight?" Mum asks as we return to her car.

"Yeah," Ricky says. "It's still probably a good idea."

"Didn't you want to stay for bonfire night?" I ask, remembering what Priya and Suriya said about the Bhai Dooj.

"Nah, maybe next year," Ricky says dismissively. In a way, I'm kind of relieved- the whole point of inviting him to the Bhai Dooj was to trick him the way I'd been tricked in the past, but now, dishonesty is the last thing I want between Ricky and myself.

At home, mum and I bid Ricky farewell with smiles on our faces. Mum hugs her son goodbye, but I have to settle for a gentle slap on the shoulder. It's only after he leaves that I realise: when he returns in a few months’ time, I'll be almost unrecognisable as the boy I used to be. My hair will have grown even further, I'll be wearing more feminine clothing, using more feminine mannerisms, and I’ll even have started to take tablets to prevent me from having a normal male puberty. In a way, I can almost see his point- the little boy he grew up with for 11 years really is gone... And yet, in a very real way, he never existed in the first place.

As I head back to school the following Monday in my comfortable blouse, warm grey tights and pleated grey skirt, the smiles on my friends' faces settle any uncertainty I have about my future. Nicole, Priya & Suriya never knew Leon, only Laura- and they all seems to love the girl that I am. Not everything about my life is perfect- not even school, as I'm reminded when I pass Harriet in the corridor- but as long as the positives outweigh the negatives, then the life of Laura Jade White will only get better and better.

My alarm clock wakes me up as normal at 7:30am, but even though today's a school day, it's no ordinary school day, not for me. As I skip down the stairs in my pink dressing gown and slippers, I'm immediately greeted by my mum, who wraps me in a tight hug before giving me a loving kiss and leading me into the living room, where I find a huge pile of carefully-wrapped presents sat on the sofa.

"Happy birthday, my special girl!" Mum coos, giving me another hug. "Twelve today! You're really not a little girl any more, another year and you'll be a fully-fledged teenager!"

"Thanks," I say, a little embarrassed by mum's gushing even though we're the only two people in the room. "And thank you for all the presents!"

"A lot of them were from your grandmother," mum says, handing me the house telephone. "You know the rules..." I giggle as I key the number into my phone, which only rings once before a familiar old-sounding voice answers.

"Happy birthday to you..." Grandma sings as I giggle harder. By the time she finishes the song, I'm practically in hysterics!

"Thanks, thank you so much for my presents!" I say excitedly.

"Have you opened them yet?" Grandma asks.

"Not yet, I've only just got up..." I say.

"And here I was thinking it was only teenaged girls who spend all day in bed," grandma tuts as I giggle again. "You're growing up too fast, young lady!"

"I know," I giggle. "Thank you again so much for my presents!"

"If I can't spoil my only granddaughter on her twelfth birthday, I'm not much of a grandmother, am I?" Grandma laughs. "Now go on and get opening!"

"I will," I say. "Thanks, grandma." I hand the phone back to mum, who ushers me to the sofa and hands me a package.

"Come on, you haven't got all day!" Mum says, and I giggle even harder as I unwrap my presents. It only takes me ten minutes, but when I'm done, I'm almost in tears from the presents I’ve received. I have several bottles of nail polish, two new lipsticks, new mascara, eyeliner and perfume. I've got a couple of books and some DVDs- which have the '12' certificate on the front circled, of course. I have two new skirts, two girly t-shirts, a posh new dress, new shoes (with a small heel on them) and a short-sleeved ballet leotard. Even the underwear makes me emotional- any ordinary girl who look at packets of panties and tights and think nothing of it, but to me they're as special as any gift I've received today. I want nothing more than to pull on my new clothes and model them for my mum, but today is still a school day, so when I get dressed, it's not my new light blue dress and low-heeled shoes that I wear, but my old grey pleated skirt and my black ballerina flats.

When I arrive at school, Nicole, Megan, Priya and Suriya are all there waiting for me with MASSIVE grins on their faces, and when I step out of the car, they all rush over to me and hurl streamers over my head.

"Oh my god!" I squeak as I bounce up and down excitedly. "I love you girls so much!"

"Happy birthday!" The girls all shout, bouncing up and down as excitedly as I am.

"Sooo," Nicole teases, "get anything nice?"

"Yeah," I say. "Things you'll be seeing tomorrow!" The girls continue to bounce up and down as I pick the streamers out of my hair.

"This is so cool!" Megan giggles. "MUCH better than your last birthday."

"Yep," I say happily. "Best birthday ever!"

The first few lessons- English, RE and German- pass smoothly, and at lunch, as always I'm sat around one of the outside tables, happily chatting about my party tomorrow, when I see something out of the corner of my eye that makes me sad- the sight of Harriet, my tormentor for the last two months, sitting alone, eating her lunch and looking miserable. Sensing that something's up, Nicole follows my eye line and catches sight of the lonely girl.

"God, she looks so miserable," Nicole sighs.

"Good," Priya snaps with uncharacteristic spite on her voice. "She doesn't deserve friends after the way she treated Laura."

"That's a bit harsh," Suriya chides her sister.

"I'm going to talk to her," I say, standing up and straightening my tights. Thankfully, my friends take this as an unspoken request to follow.

"Hi Harriet," I say softly.

"What do you want?" Harriet asks in a voice that contains much more confusion than aggression.

"It's my birthday party tomorrow," I explain. "We're all going out to have makeovers." I gulp before I continue speaking. "Would- would you like to come with us?"

"Laura, what are you doing?" Megan asks quietly. For a second, in Harriet's face I can see a look of pure happiness, before it's replaced by a look of spite.

"Eww," Harriet spits, "why would I want to spend the day with a FREAK like you?"

"Yeah, 'cause you've got many other friends, haven't you?" Priya snipes.

"Harriet... Is someone making you say these things to me?" I ask.

"Just leave me alone," Harriet snaps, turning her back to me and my friends.

"Well... I asked," I sigh, heading back to my table with the other girls.

"Exactly WHY did you ask?" Megan asks as we sit back down.

"Didn't you see her?" I say.

"She looked really miserable," Nicole sighs. "Did you see the way she smiled when you asked her?"

"She made her decision," Priya says bluntly.

"She's right," Suriya says. "Even if her dad is making her say these things, that doesn't mean that she has to say them, especially not to your face. You tried, that's all you can do."

"I guess..." I sigh, casting a backward glance at the girl who was, for a far too brief time, my friend.

After school I head straight home, where I change from my uniform into my new black denim skirt, a pair of hot pink tights and my new stripy top. Even though my hair is still only a couple of inches long, I clip it back with one of the new hair accessories I got today. I even spray on a little of my new perfume As I look in the mirror, I can't help but giggle at how far I've come since my last birthday. As Megan hinted at earlier, my 11th birthday party wasn't nearly as fun- especially as I was trying to be 'more of a boy' at the start of my last year at primary school. I invited Megan and two of my other girl friends over, but the party was dominated by the boys I was trying to integrate with at the time, we talked about football, played videogames, swapped stickers... None of which I enjoyed. Even a tenth of what mum has planned for tomorrow would have been preferable to what I actually did.

As I skip downstairs in my new clothing, eager to tuck into my birthday dinner- a tradition that HASN'T changed with my gender- I'm suddenly taken aback by a very worried-looking expression on my mother's face.

"You got another card in the post today," mum explains, handing me the sealed envelope. "I- I think it's from your father." My heart skips a beat at the mention of the man I haven't seen in over eight years.

"D-dad?" I ask.

"I'm sure that's his handwriting," mum whispers. Hesitantly, I rip open the envelope and take out the card inside. Predictably, the front cover says 'to a special son on his 12th birthday' and has a picture of a footballer on the front. When I open the card, though, I get the shock of my life when a £50 note falls out of it.

"Oh my god!" I gasp, carefully picking the red banknote off the floor and staring at it.

"Laura," mum whispers. "Obviously, you'll have to thank him for this... Has he enclosed his address in there?" Shivering slightly, I open the card again, reading the message inside.

"To my wonderful son on his twelfth birthday," I read aloud. "Today, you take the first step toward being a man, and whatever you do with your life, know that I'll always be proud of you and I'll always love you. Dad." I tear up as I read the message, prompting mum to give me a long, tender hug.

"Does- does he really mean that?" I ask. "I mean, if he saw me now, would he still-"

"He would mean everything he said in the card," mum says flatly. "Even if you are now his daughter, and you've taken the first step toward being a woman, rather than a man." I dry my tears quickly, as less than half an hour later, a knock comes at the door, which I open to be greeted with the smiling face of my grandmother.

"Happy birthday!" Grandma beams happily, giving me a tight hug. "Are you wearing perfume? What did I tell you about not growing up too fast?"

"Sorry," I say, prompting another hug from grandma.

"Don't you ever dare be sorry," grandma giggles, handing me my card. "Happy birthday again!"

"Thanks," I giggle, opening the card and giving grandma yet another hug.

"So," grandma says as we take our places at the dinner table, "did you get anything from your brother?"

"No," I whisper sadly. "Not even a card."

"Well he probably didn't post it in time, you know what he's like," grandma says confidently, with a tone that says 'if he didn't send you a card, I'm going to KILL him'. "It'll probably arrive tomorrow."

"I'm sure it will," mum says, laying the delicious-smelling meal on the table. "Now, get stuck in!" Smiling, grandma and I both help ourselves to the food, which we polish off very quickly, as well as the pink-coloured dessert mum prepared for the day!

After a long evening talking with mum and grandma I head to bed, but despite my full belly, I can't sleep, I'm that excited about tomorrow's party, and I'm awake long before 7am, showering and ensuring I'm fully 100% clean for the day's activities.

Our first 'activity' is a makeover & manicure at a local salon- one of mum's friends is one of the stylists there, so she was able to get us all in there for a cut-down price. For the trip, I dress very casually- just a pink hoodie, black tights and the skirt I wore last night- but when we get home, I've been promised a 'fashion show' where I get to wear my beautiful new dress!

My friends start arriving just after 9am- Nicole is first, giving me a MASSIVE hug as she enters my home.

"Happy day-after-birthday-day!" Nicole squeaks, before handing me a small, carefully-wrapped gift and an envelope. The gift turns out be a multicoloured elasticated bracelet, which I immediately slip on my wrist, much to Nicole's delight.

Megan is next to arrive, again greeting me with a gift (a bottle of pink nail polish, despite the fact we're all getting manicures today), a card and a hug. Last to arrive are Priya and Suriya, whose gift of my very own sari earns both girls HUGE hugs! I actually have to fight the urge to immediately change into the beautiful garment, but we don't have the time for that as the five of us are whisked off to the salon.

Our first treatment at the salon is done to our nails- as we're not allowed to wear coloured nail polish at school, each of us gets our nails coated with a shiny clear polish- though I do also get the numbers '1' and '2' on my middle two fingers! We then have our make-up for the day professionally applied- nothing too outlandish (five pre-teen girls walking around in full make-up would look a little suspicious, after all), but we each get mascara, eyeliner and shiny lip-gloss applied to our faces, before our hair is washed and styled. My short 'pixie' cut does look cute, but I find myself envying the long, flowing hair of my four friends. Once we're done in the salon, it's almost lunchtime, so mum takes us to a nearby pizza parlour. On the way, however, I can tell something's not right with one of my friends.

"Are you okay?" I say to Priya, who's been subdued all day.

"I'm fine," Priya says, forcing a smile on her face, but I can tell that she's hiding something. When we arrive at the pizza place, we place our orders- Priya and Suriya share a plain cheese pizza, whilst Nicole, Megan and I share a larger pepperoni pizza.

"How's your birthday so far?" Suriya asks me with a happy giggle.

"I am LOVING every second of this," I gush, staring happily at my new nails and fiddling with my newly-feminine hair. "I just wish this didn't have to be my first birthday as Laura." I can't help but feel guilty as a sad look spreads over mum's face.

"Well you're going to have loads and loads more birthdays as Laura!" Nicole squeaks as Priya excuses herself to use the toilet.

"Show me your nails again!" Suriya says, and I happily comply. I'm vaguely aware of other diners staring at our party, and every time I get a thought in the back of my mind that says 'are they staring at me because I'm a boy, or because we're all girls?'

"This is all so cool," Megan sighs. "I'm going to have to persuade my dad to do something like this for my birthday!"

"Me too!" Suriya giggles.

"Me three!" Nicole laughs.

"Priya's birthday's next," Suriya says. "I'll have to get her to ask for a party like this!"

"She's taking her time in there," Nicole says, bringing a frown to mum's face- almost as if she knows what's wrong.

"Suriya, can you go and check on your sister, please?" Mum asks.

"What do you think's wrong?" I ask as Suriya heads to the toilet after Priya.

"I'm sure it's nothing," mum says with a smile on her face. "Now eat your pizza!" I resume eating, but less than a minute later, Suriya returns and whispers something in mum's ear- something myself, Nicole and Megan are clearly not meant to hear. Almost immediately, mum reaches into her bag for her phone, dialling Priya & Suriya's father and asking him to come and collect the two girls.

"What's wrong?" I ask, devastated that my party- my special, first-of-its-king party- has been seemingly ruined.

"Priya's... Not well," mum explains.

"Will you be able to come back for the fashion show?" I ask Suriya, who simply shrugs her shoulders. Minutes later, Mr. Malik arrives and leads his daughters back to his car. Priya- who'd only just left the toilet- looks almost terrified.

"She's just feeling a little unwell," mum explains as she leads myself, Megan and Nicole back to her car. "Now come on, you've got your best dresses at home, time to show off those new makeovers of yours!" The three of us put smiles on our faces, but it's clear that we're all worried about our friend.

When we arrive home, however, all negative thoughts are put out of our minds after mum transforms our living room into our very own fashion show, complete with catwalk and small backstage area. After changing into our dresses- Nicole into a long, floral black dress, Megan into a long, long-sleeved purple dress and me into my new light blue dress with its short sleeves and swishy knee-length skirt. Despite the cold, I strip off my tights and slip my feet into my new heeled shoes- much to Nicole & Megan's delight! Nicole and Megan go first, 'saving the best until last', and even though it's only my two friends and my mum in the 'audience', when it's my turn, I strut down the catwalk like I'm a supermodel at a big, fancy launch, one hand on my hip and the other swinging freely. I let the camera get a good, long look at my perfectly made-up face, my beautiful dress and my posh shoes. I'd originally wanted to be a princess on my birthday, but right now... I feel more like royalty than any princess!

Mere minutes after finishing the 'fashion show' and preparing to change back into our day clothes, a knock comes at the door, and Suriya and Priya- looking much happier than she did a few hours ago- come into the house, giving myself, Nicole and Megan big hugs- Priya especially.

"I'm... Sorry I left you in the lurch earlier," Priya says, clearly still anxious about what happened earlier.

"No, you didn't do that!" I insist. "It's not your fault if you're not well."

"Well, she's better now!" Suriya giggles. "And we've still got our dresses here..." I look expectantly at mum, who simply rolls her eyes and sets her camcorder back up. Priya and Suriya both giggle excitedly and change into their posh dresses, before strutting down the catwalk for the camera just as I'd done a few minutes earlier. After a quick dinner- still wearing our 'fashion show' dresses, much to mum's dismay- I bid farewell to my friends, seeing them off with goodie bags filled with DVDs of the fashion show, two bottles of nail polish each from the salon and 12 home-baked cookies each. After my friends have all left, I immediately head over to mum and give her a big hug.

"Thank you so much!" I squeak excitedly. "This has been the best birthday EVER!"

"I'm glad," mum says happily. "Now let go before you crease your new dress!" I giggle and release my mum before sitting down on the sofa, smoothing my new dress beneath me.

"It's just a pity Priya got sick halfway through," I muse, prompting a VERY uncomfortable look from mum.

"Priya... Wasn't sick," mum says hesitantly. "She- she, um, she started her first period whilst at the restaurant."

"Oh," I say. "Umm..."

"Laura, a period is where-" mum says.

"I know what a period is," I say quietly. "We studied them in biology at school."

"So, um, you know it's a perfectly normal thing to happen to a girl?" Mum asks.

"Yes," I whisper. "All girls except me." This time, it's mum who gives me the hug, not even noticing that she's creasing my dress in the way she warned me not to do.

"You know that's not necessarily a bad thing?" Mum asks, but I still remain upset.

"I know," I say. "But all my friends will get their first period, and I won't."

"You're worried that you'll feel left out," mum sighs, and I nod. "We'll talk about this with Doctor Williamson on Friday, she should be able to do something. Obviously she can't magically cause you to have periods, but at the very least, we can talk about it. Now take off your dress! It's almost time for bed anyway." I smile and nod- mum is, of course, correct, and less than an hour later, I'm in my pink nightdress and tucked up in bed- but I can't shake from my mind the thought that as I and my friends get older, biology will mean that we'll grow into very different people- and grow apart as a result.

I spend Sunday sat in front of my computer completing my homework, before returning to school on Monday, my careful makeover and manicure washed away but still leaving the schoolgirl I've always dreamed of becoming. Much to my relief, upon entering the school gates, I'm greeted by Priya and Suriya- and the older girl is looking MUCH happier than she did even on Saturday evening.

"Hi Laura!" Priya giggles. "I LOVED the party at the weekend, sorry again that I had to leave halfway through..."

"Don't be sorry!" I say, giving Priya a quick hug. "You... Were feeling a little off, that's all." My eyes and Priya's eyes briefly lock, and it becomes clear in that instant that she knows that I know what happened.

"Anyway, I'm feeling better now," Priya says, before leaving myself and Suriya alone and heading off to class.

"I take it your mum told you what REALLY happened?" Suriya asks.

"Yeah," I whisper. "Poor Priya... Is she okay?"

"She will be," Suriya says. "I guess it'll happen to us all, sooner or later."

"...Not all of us," I say with a sad voice.

"Oh god, Laura!" Suriya gasps. "I'm so sorry, sometimes I- I just forget..."

"Don't be sorry!" I giggle as I stare down at my skirt and my tights-covered knees. "Believe me, I'd LOVE to forget..."

I quickly settle back into the routine of a school week after the excitement of the weekend. Throughout the week, Priya also grows happier and happier, to the point where she's back to her normal cheerful self by Wednesday lunchtime- which is also the time Nicole has an important announcement for our group.

"Girls," Nicole says as we sit down at our usual dinner table, "I'm sure you're aware that this school has a drama club, and that very same club is asking anyone interested to sign up this afternoon?"

"No thanks," Priya laughs. "I had a look last year, it's not really my cup of tea."

"So you'll be okay dancing on stage in a big, fluffy tutu, but not acting in normal clothes?" Nicole teases, making Priya giggle more.

"Now I'm year 8, there's always dance club..." Priya says, making the whole table giggle.

"Well I'M in," Suriya says defiantly, poking her tongue out at her sister.

"Megan?" Nicole asks expectantly.

"...Not really my thing," Megan grimaces. "I only really go to ballet because you all go."

"Aww," Nicole coos, making Megan blush. "Laura, how about you?" It's plainly obvious what decision Nicole would rather I made, and I do enjoy drama... But it would help to hammer home one unfortunate fact.

"I dunno," I say. "You know someone would point at me and say 'she's acting, she's not really a girl'..."

"No one would say that!" Nicole insists.

"And if they do, I'll kick their butt!" Suriya says, making her sister roll her eyes at her.

"At least come along to see what it's like, pleeeeease?" Nicole asks, and I can't help but let out a girlish giggle at her insistence.

"Okay, I'll see what it's like," I say.

"Yay!" Nicole cheers, giving my shoulders a quick squeeze. Less than ten minutes later, Nicole, Suriya and I are stood outside the main drama classroom, waiting in a queue to sign ourselves up for the class.

"Oh no," Suriya groans, looking at the back of the queue. "Look who it is..." I turn around, and shudder as I see Harriet join the back of the queue. Fortunately, she hasn't seen me, so I turn my back to her in the hope that I won’t have to interact with her- though if we're both going to be members of the same school club, that may not be possible.

"Whatever," Nicole says confidently. "If she wants to make trouble, that's HER problem. You'll have friends in the club, Laura. SHE won't." I smile happily as I step up to the desk and speak with Mrs. Ingram, the school's head of drama.

"Hi girls," the 30 year old teacher says warmly. "Good to see so many year sevens taking an interest this year! Just put your names down on the paper and I'll add you to the club's mailing list. Do you have any questions about the club?"

"Yes," I say nervously. "I'm, um, I'm Laura White." When Mrs. Ingram doesn't respond to my 'confession', I elaborate further. "I'm, um, I'm a girl, but before, when I was at primary school, I was-"

"It's okay, Laura, I know about your situation," Mrs. Ingram says with a kind smile. "What was your question?"

"If I do any acting," I ask hesitantly, "will I be acting as a boy or as a girl?"

"That depends on the role," Mrs. Ingram says. "Laura, I'm not going to ask you to do any part you don't feel comfortable with. You yourself said that you're a girl, so if you'd rather only play female parts, that's fine with me." I grin happily, before writing my name and form on the piece of paper underneath Suriya's and Nicole's names. On the way out of the club, we pass by Harriet, who stares at us all with disdain. I brace myself for the type of verbal attack that's become Harriet's trademark, but much to my surprise, she remains silent, allowing me to go on my way without another word.

"What do you suppose that was about?" Suriya asks.

"Don't know, don't care!" Nicole beams happily. "Will you and Priya be at ballet tonight?"

"We should be okay to go, yes," Suriya says.

"And you, Laura?" Nicole asks.

"Of course!" I giggle, making the three of us descend into fits of giggles as we head to our next class.

Later that evening, after the end of the ballet class, the five of us are sat on a sofa in the small reception area in our dance uniforms, waiting for Mr. Malik to pick us up in his people carrier. My new leotard attracted a lot of compliments- especially as, for one night only, I was allowed to dance without my skirt- but it was Priya who was attracting the most attention, much to the Indian girl's dismay.

"Hey girls," Miss Fullerton says as she sees us still waiting in reception. "Great class tonight, you're all coming along brilliantly, but I noticed some of you seemed a little distracted- are you all feeling okay?" We all look at each other, wondering how exactly to word our response, when a look of realisation spreads across our teacher's face.

"Oh," Miss Fullerton breathes. "Oh, I see."

"I-" Priya begins, before being silenced by the older woman.

"I don't need to know any more," Miss Fullerton says. "I can give you all some leaflets, recommend some websites that offer help and advice, especially for when you're dancing. Just wait right there- I'll print you them out now." As Miss Fullerton types away at her computer, I feel compelled to approach her desk.

"Miss Fullerton," I say quietly.

"What's up, Laura?" The young dance teacher asks with a smile.

"I, um, I won't need any of those websites," I say quietly, trying not to let the other girls hear, even though I know they'd understand.

"Well I'm giving you a print-out anyway," Miss Fullerton says with a smile. "Regardless of how you were born, when you're in my class, you're one of my girls, and I treat ALL my girls equally. On that note, from what I saw today, if you don't want to wear your skirt in class any more, you don't have to."

"Really?" I ask. "But what about my-"

"As I said, I don't need to know any more," Miss Fullerton says, handing me a sheet of paper with a list of websites on it. "I didn't see any problems tonight, I don't see why there'd be any problems any other night." I grin widely as I return to my friends, printout in hand. As I climb into the people carrier, shivering from the cold dressed in just my leotard and my tights, I feel truly immersed in femininity for the first time ever. Just as Suriya had done on Monday, for a brief, wonderful second I actually forget that I was ever a boy. In that instant, it's as though I'd been Laura my whole life, and when that second ends, I feel truly miserable. I remain in my ballet uniform for the rest of the night- I only have one lesson a week, so the uniform would need to be washed anyway, and the more time I spend at ballet, the more I enjoy it. There, I'm not just a girl, I'm a ballerina- well, kind-of- and to me, nothing says 'beautiful and feminine' like the ballerinas I see in the videos Miss Fullerton posts on her school's Facebook page.

And yet, whilst my friends' bodies will change into ones similar to the ballerinas I see in those videos, mine will change in an entirely different and unwelcome way. I know from biology that my muscles will grow, my voice will deepen, I'll start to grow facial hair... And my genitals will grow, too. Looking in the mirror, even in a tight leotard, I'm really not that different physically from a 12-year old girl, even around my crotch, but it can't last forever.

Throughout the rest of the week at school, I feel unhappy at the thought of my impending change. Even though I've been accepted as a girl by virtually everyone at school, the fact remains that biology still says otherwise- a fact I keep in mind as I attend my regular meeting with my counsellor on Friday afternoon.

"Hi Laura!" Dr Williamson says as I enter the office. "You're looking well today, I love your hair!"

"Thanks," I say, smoothing my school skirt underneath me as I sit down.

"I understand it was your birthday last week, that's why you had to reschedule our appointment?" Dr Williamson asks.

"Yeah," I reply.

"Did you get anything nice?" The middle-aged counsellor asks.

"A few things," I say. "Clothes, make-up..."

"I've had a twelve year old daughter," Dr Williamson laughs. "I know the drill."

"I didn't get anything from my brother, though," I moan.

"You just need to give him a little time," the counsellor tells me, mum backing her up with a nod. "I'm sure that eventually he'll come to accept you as his sister."

"And I got £50 from my dad," I say quietly.

"Have you spoken to him since you started on this path?" Dr Williamson asks, and I shake my head.

"The card said 'to my son'," I say. "I haven't seen the man in over eight years- I have nothing to say to him."

"Okay," Dr Williamson says. "We can put him to one side for now. Did you enjoy your party?" I smile happily and nod.

"It was the best birthday I've ever had," I say with a wide grin.

"There was a slight... incident at the birthday party, though," mum says. "Something Laura wanted to discuss today. One of Laura's friends, a slightly older girl, she- she entered puberty for the first time, if you understand what I mean."

"I see," Dr Williamson says stoically. "Laura, what did this make you feel?"

"Envious," I say honestly. "It reminded me that I'm not really a girl, not inside. Then, at ballet on Wednesday, there was I moment when I thought I really was a girl, it was like I'd never been a boy."

"Can you describe that moment to me?" Dr Williamson asks.

"It was like, I was getting into a car with my friends," I explain. "We were all wearing out ballet uniforms, it was cold, we were shivering but we were happy, and I just felt... Normal."

"And how did you feel when the moment passed?" The counsellor asks me.

"Upset," I say. "Especially as Priya's started puberty, it reminded me that when I start puberty, it'll be in the wrong way."

"And turning twelve has brought it home that that will happen sooner rather than later?" Dr Williamson asks, and I nod.

"How you're feeling is perfectly normal," the counsellor continues. "Most of the young men and women I've spoken to who are on the same journey as you have already passed puberty by the time they get to me, but for those like you who haven't reached it yet, it can be a terrifying thought, especially as you've already committed to living life as a female."

"Is there anything that can be done for Laura?" Mum asks.

"Yes," Dr Williamson says, "but only with your consent. I am able to prescribe anti-androgen tablets for Laura."

"Are- are they oestrogen pills?" Mum asks, and much to my disappointment, Dr Williamson shakes her head.

"No," the counsellor says. "I can prescribe those at a later date, but these tablets are solely to prevent a male puberty. They won't start Laura down the path to becoming chemically female, but they will prevent her body from being flooded with testosterone. These effects are completely reversible, should Laura change her mind at a later date." No chance of that happening... I think to myself.

"Laura, do you want these pills?" Mum asks, and I immediately nod, a happy smile on my face.

"As I said, the effects are totally reversible," Dr Williamson explains, typing into her computer "But for now, they will allay any fears that Laura might have about undergoing a male puberty."

An hour later, I leave the doctor's office with the prescription in my hand, and the following Monday, I would take the first of these special tablets. Even though Dr Williamson said categorically that they wouldn't cause me to develop as a girl, I can't help but feel happier in myself knowing that the drugs are in my system. As I look at the older boys at school- those who have all but completed their puberty, I know for certain that at no point in the future will I be joining their ranks. From here on in, my place is with the girls, and as I greet Megan and Nicole at the school gates, I once again momentarily forget that I ever used to be a boy.

When I remember my 'situation' this time, however, I don't feel sad, but excited- excited about what my future will bring, as Laura, as a bona fide, 100%, fully-fledged girl- the girl I was always supposed to be.

“I hope you’ve all enjoyed your first term,” Mrs. Houghton announces to the whole of the year as the bell rings, signifying not only the end of the school day, but the end of school entirely for the next two and a half weeks. “I hope you all have a happy Christmas, and I look forward to seeing you back here in January, refreshed and raring to go for another term!” With the assembly ‘dismissed’, we all file out of the hall in neat columns, though once we reach the car park outside the school, we become a lot LESS orderly!

“It’s Christmas!” Nicole squeaks happily, giving every member of our ‘gang’ (including Priya, who was waiting outside for us) a big hug before getting in her mum’s car.

“What time are you coming round tomorrow?” Suriya asks me as she and her sister get in their mother’s car.

“When I can,” I say. “Hopefully early…”

“This will be your first Christmas as Laura, won’t it?” Priya asks, to which I nod happily.

“I really can’t wait,” I breathe excitedly. “This is gonna be the best Christmas ever!” Priya and Suriya both giggle as their mother drives them away, leaving me alone with Megan in the car park.

“You know, ‘Laura’ really is a lot more fun than ‘Leon’, no offence,” Megan says.

“No offence taken,” I reply. “I definitely agree with you!”

“Any idea what you’re getting for Christmas?” Megan asks.

“Skirts, dresses, make-up, ballet stuff… All the things I wanted to get last year!” I squeak.

“And all the things you got for your BIRTHDAY last month!” Megan giggles, giving me a quick hug as my mum impatiently honks her car horn.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at Priya’s okay?” Megan says as I get in mum’s car, smoothing my skirt underneath me in a motion that’s quickly become second nature. I nod at the grinning girl as mum drives us home, her grin easily as wide as mine or any of my friends’.

“First term completed!” Mum says happily. “And now you’ve got a whole two weeks off- any idea what you want to do over that time? Apart from homework, of course.”

“Mum!” I chastise, before giggling uncontrollably. “Though even homework seems okay when I’m wearing this uniform…”

“When I was your age, I’d have given anything to be able to stop wearing a school uniform,” mum muses. “I am SO proud of you, Laura. And not just because of actually wanting to wear your uniform! You actually seem to have enjoyed school this year, last year you dreaded going in most days…”

“It’s not been ALL good,” I say, remembering my ‘assault’ from earlier in the year, and the constant tormenting I’ve received from Harriet and a few others. “But there’s been a lot more good times than there’s been bad. Last year… I don’t even want to remember last year.”

“Then don’t,” mum says happily as we drive into the dark afternoon. When we arrive home, I smile when I see a familiar car parked in the street outside, and when I open the front door, I’m immediately greeted by a hug from my grandmother.

“Hello, schoolgirl!” Grandma says. “Don’t you look pretty in your uniform!”

“I look just like any other schoolgirl,” I say. “Which is what I always wanted!” Grandma chuckles as we three women sit down and start talking about the upcoming festive season. I don’t change out of my uniform until after grandma leaves after 8pm, though even after I exchange my blouse and pleated skirt for a black denim skirt and a cute pink sweater, I still keep my grey tights on, wanting to relish the feeling of being a schoolgirl just a little longer. Even after I’ve changed into my nightdress, I’m reluctant to slide into bed as the longer I’m awake, the more like a girl I feel. One of my favourite things to do is look around my bedroom, staring at the ‘haven of femininity’ that it’s become over the last few months.

Gone are my blue walls and posters of footballers and racing cars, to be replaced by a light yellow paint and pictures of ballerinas, singers and beautiful things. A dressing table takes pride of place in my room, with a mirror in which I regularly experiment with the cosmetics and nail polishes that litter the top of the table. Even the little things, like my toothbrush, has been changed to one in a soft pink colour. Any stranger looking into the house would not be able to tell that I had ever been a boy.

As I eventually snuggle under the warm sheets, I too try my hardest to forget that I was ever anything other than 100% female. Ever since that first, fleeting moment after ballet last month, I’ve had more and more moments where I’ve actually been able to forget, to pretend that my life as a boy was a bad dream, a dream I’ve now woken up from. When I wake up for real on Saturday morning, I look around the room, almost as if to make sure that my ‘haven’ is still intact, and when I see that it is, I snuggle back under my sheets, a happy and contented GIRL.

I only stay in my warm bed for a few more minutes before getting up at my mum’s yelled prompting. After a quick wash, I swallow my special anti-androgen pill (or my ‘boy blocker’ as Nicole calls it) and head downstairs, where mum is still smiling as happily as she was when I went to bed last night.

“Good morning, precious!” Mum says, placing a bowl of cereal in front of me. “What time do you want to go round to the Mailks’?”

“As early as possible!” I giggle happily, also making mum giggle. “We’re going to be doing each other’s nails, is that alright?”

“Of course it is!” Mum laughs. “A twelve year old girl wearing nail polish during the holidays? Of course, it didn’t happen in my day, but this IS 2013, so you do whatever you want, Laura!”

“Can I get my nose pierced too?” I cheekily ask, earning a playful shove from my mum!

“Don’t push it, missy!” Mum teases as we both giggle happily. After breakfast, I change into the same skirt and jumper I wore last night, only with a pair of opaque black tights instead of my grey school tights. After pulling on my favourite pair of flats, I pause before leaving my bedroom, ultimately choosing instead to take a seat at my dressing table, where I spread out my cosmetics in front of me. Giggling happily, I take out my mascara and enhance my eyelashes, before outlining my eyes with the dark make-up pencil I got the previous month, and applying a coat of faint red lipstick to my mouth. Once I’m happy with my grown-up- but still very cute- look, I head downstairs, where mum immediately rolls her eyes upon seeing my face.

“That’s too much make-up!” Mum complains as I put on my coat.

“If you didn’t want me to wear it, you shouldn’t have bought me it!” I retort, making mum roll her eyes again.

“Can you stop being a teenager before you’ve turned thirteen, please?” Mum sighs as we get in her car.

“Mum! You can’t stop me from growing up!” I pout.

“I can TRY,” mum says as we drive away. A short while later we arrive at the Maliks’ house, which- much to my surprise- is bedecked with Christmas decorations, including snowman, Santas and a HUGE Christmas tree in the living room window. Once I step through the front door, I’m immediately greeted by big hugs from Priya and Suriya, who are both wearing big, thick Christmas jumpers with reindeers on the front, floaty knee-length skirts and- in Suriya’s case- thick snowman-patterned tights.

“Hi Laura!” Priya- whose legs are covered in plain black tights- squeaks excitedly.

“Hi Priya! Hi Suriya!” I also squeak. “I LOVE your tights!”

“Thanks!” Suriya giggles excitedly. “The one GOOD thing about being short for my age, I get to wear all the cute clothing my lanky sister’s grown out of!” Suriya and I only giggle further as Priya- who at 5’ 1”, towers over both myself and her sister- rolls her eyes and leads us both into the kitchen, where several bottles of nail polish in all different colours are laid out in wait for us and the other two girls who will soon arrive.

“Come on, fingers forward!” Priya orders, picking up a bottle of dark blue polish.

“That’s a bit… ‘Obvious’, isn’t it?” I ask, referring to the colour of the polish.

“Are you not ‘obviously’ a girl?” Suriya asks as her sister begins coating my fingernails with the dark liquid.

“Touché,” I giggle. “I LOVE your decorations!”

“Thanks!” Priya says. “Dad always makes a fuss when it comes to Christmas…”

“And when it comes to Christmas presents too!” Suriya says.

“I just thought that because you celebrated Diwali, that you wouldn’t celebrate Christmas…” I say, my voice trailing off as the Asian girls start giggling at me.

“Are you a Christian?” Priya asks me. “Do you go to church?” When I shake my head, the two sisters only giggle harder.

“Just because we’re Hindu, doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate Christmas!” Suriya giggles. “I mean, YOU were going to celebrate Diwali with us, and you’re not Hindu…”

“That’s true, I guess,” I giggle, inspecting my new nails. “So pretty…”

“Me next!” Suriya excitedly yells, all but shoving me out of the chair and holding her fingers out for her sister and I to paint in a glossy black colour. We later apply the same colour to Priya’s fingernails, and when Nicole and Megan arrive, they get the same dark blue colour as me. Nicole also provides nail stencils for us to play with, meaning that when we leave the kitchen after our nails have dried, I have cute white snowmen on my middle fingernails, Megan has emerald green Christmas trees and Nicole, Priya and Suriya all have tiny golden stars.

“Oh god,” Mohan, Priya & Suriya’s elder brother, moans when he sees us five pre-teen (or in Priya’s case, teen) girls ‘invade’ the living room where he’s sat playing on his Xbox. “I’m outta here…”

“BOY!” Priya and Suriya yell after their brother as he leaves the room.

“Unusual insult!” Megan giggles as we take over the two large sofas in the vast living room.

“Something we heard the Angels say once,” Suriya says. “Can you believe we’re being taught ballet by a celebrity!?”

“Just a shame they can’t record any of OUR lessons,” Nicole sighs. “I take it we’re all watching the first episode on next Saturday?”

“Of course,” I giggle. “Though you are NOT nicknaming me ‘Jamie jnr’!”

“Nah, it’s more like SHE should be ‘Laura snr’!” Nicole laughs, giving me a quick hug.

“I wish ballet didn’t have to close over Christmas,” Megan sighs. “I’m so glad you got me into the class, there’s apparently a HUGE waiting list now.”

“Well if we can’t dance at the studio, we’ll have to have our own class!” Priya announces.

“I, um, don’t have my leotard with me,” I complain as Priya and her sister drag myself, Megan and Nicole into an empty area of the large living room.

“I’ve got a few I’ve grown out of,” Priya says.

“That I haven’t grown INTO yet,” Suriya complains, making her elder sister giggle.

“Are you sure?” I ask as Priya disappears upstairs to her room.

“I let you borrow my sari, didn’t I?” Suriya giggles as she rearranges the furniture to give us more room to dance. “Okay, a leotard’s a bit… ‘Closer’, but you’re all wearing tights, it’ll be fine.”

“Alright then!” Nicole cheers. Less than ten minutes later, the five of us have changed into multi-coloured leotards and are stood with our arms outstretched like proper ballerinas, following Priya’s instruction as we dance the steps that have become second nature to us over the past few months. When Priya orders us to change out of our leotards half an hour later, I find myself wishing that I could stay as a ballerina just a few minutes longer, just so I can soak up more of the beauty and femininity of being a dancer just like my friends.

“I can’t wait to join dance club next year!” Nicole squeaks happily as we crash back down on the sofas, our skirts once again hanging from our waists.

“It’s a bit advanced,” Priya complains. “All the girls there can dance en pointe apart from me… I think that’s why they only let you join from year 8 onwards. I actually left after a couple of weeks.”

“Oh no, that’s so bad,” Nicole sighs. “You’ll just have to see if you can join drama club with us!”

“Yeah!” Suriya and I cheer simultaneously.

“I’m not really an actress!” Priya giggles.

“Nor are we,” Nicole laughs, pointing at the three of us in succession. “Doesn’t mean we don’t have fun, AND they’re holding auditions for a play soon…”

“…That we need to rehearse for in front of an audience…” Suriya says, making us three ‘actresses’ giggle excitedly.

“Show us! Show us!” Megan urges.

“Nah, we need proper costumes first…” Suriya says.

“AND proper stage make-up…” I giggle excitedly as Megan and Priya smile knowingly at each other.

Within minutes, Nicole, Suriya and I are dressed in long, flowing dresses, our faces covered in thick make-up and wide grins.

“Miss Patrick,” Nicole says in an overly dramatic voice, “what time shall Mr. Henry be arriving?”

“Within the hour,” I reply in an equally dramatic tone. “Shall he be bringing his younger brother? I do hope so, he makes my heart flutter so…” I break down in a fit of giggles before completing the sentence, making Nicole and Suriya playfully moan and tease me.

“We haven’t decided yet who’s going for which role,” Nicole giggles as the three of us sit down next to Priya and Megan, still wearing our fancy dresses and make-up.

“Aww, it looks like so much fun!” Megan says.

“It IS,” I say. “Well, when Harriet’s not there, anyway…”

“Ugh, can’t believe she’s STILL having a go at you,” Priya spits. “I mean, it’s like the entire school apart from her has got used to you- well, you know…”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind you saying it…” I sigh.

“You know, I still sometimes forget,” Suriya says, bringing a smile to my red lips.

“So do I!” I giggle. “Not as often as I’d like, though…”

“Well then,” Priya says, “we’re all going to have to be as girly as possible to help you forget!”

“Yeah!” The other girls all cheer.

“Well we can’t be expected to do ALL the work,” Nicole says accusingly, looking in my direction. “YOU’RE going to have to be SUPER-DUPER girly!” I giggle excitedly as Suriya suddenly gasps.

“We’ve still got all our nail polish,” Suriya announces. “We’ll have to do your toenails as well!” I start to squeak as Priya orders me back into the kitchen, where I remove my tights and lift my dress, allowing the sisters to coat each of my toenails in a dark red polish.

When my mum picks me up just after 5:30, all she can do is laugh and shake her head at my look. Even though I’ve changed back into my tights and my black denim skirt, my face is still covered in the thick stage make-up I’d worn all day and my short hair has been styled to be more feminine than it has ever been, and even has a few cute hair clips in it. For the first time since I started being Laura, I feel- and look- 100% externally female.

“Come on, princess,” mum laughs as I sit down in her car, straightening my skirt and my tights before fastening my seatbelt. “When I said you were wearing too much make-up, that wasn’t your cue to put on even more…”

“I was rehearsing for my play,” I shrug. “It made me feel more ‘in character’.”

“…And?” Mum asks.

“…And it makes me feel more girly,” I confess. “Those moments I get, when I forget that I was ever a boy? They’ve been happening more and more. I want… I want that feeling to be permanent.”

“And it WILL be,” mum says. “I promise you, Laura, six years from now, when you’re eighteen and you’re an adult… You’ll be a woman, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s all you’ll ever have been.” I giggle happily as we drive into the cold December night. When we get home, I immediately park myself on the sofa, ready to watch the Strictly Come Dancing grand final. I can’t help but coo and sigh at all the beautiful dresses being worn by the finalists. This time last year, when I watched Charlotte Hutchinson and Kimberley Walsh in the final, I could only dream about wearing such beautiful dresses and being whisked around the dancefloor by a handsome man. Today, I’m still dreaming, but less than 24 hours ago I was wearing a beautiful dress and dancing as elegantly as any ‘real’ girl. Okay, admittedly it wasn’t at the same time, but what was a fantasy last year is now infinitely closer to becoming a reality.

Even as I go to bed, my face scrubbed clean of all my beautiful make-up and my hair ‘freed’ from all the clips and hairpins, I still feel as girly as I did when I was dancing and playing with my friends earlier in the day. I stay awake for ages after climbing under my sheets just staring at my fingernails, at the cute snowmen on my middle fingers and the beautiful blue colour that seems to glow in the darkness.

When I get up the following morning, I spend several happy seconds staring at my red toenails before getting washed and dressing in a pair of glittery black tights, a pink jumper and a cute and VERY feminine grey pleated denim skirt. Even though all I’m doing today is homework, I still have a smile on my face as I write in my exercise books due to the sight of the blue fingernails gripping my pen, the feel of the soft fabric encasing my legs and the shiny clips in my hair.

I’m that immersed in my work that I barely notice the time pass, and when mum calls me down for lunch, I’m amazed to find that it’s almost 1pm and I’ve finished almost three quarters of the homework I’ve been set for the holiday period.

“Working hard?” Mum asks as I elegantly sit down at the kitchen table.

“Yeah,” I say. “I actually enjoy homework more now that I’m a girl, heh. It’s like everything in the world is just so much better.”

“Good,” mum says. “Hopefully I’ll see that reflected in your grades!” I smile sarcastically as I eat- at primary school, I was never one of the high achievers. I’d just do the bare minimum required and spend the rest of my time daydreaming- and it should be obvious that I was daydreaming about life as a girl. Now that that dream has become reality, my mind’s more focussed, able to take in concepts quicker and produce work of a higher quality. I’m frequently complimented by my teachers on the quality of my work in all subjects, especially in English.

After eating lunch, I head upstairs to finish off my homework, but I barely get five minutes done when a knock comes from the front door. We’re not due any visitors today- grandma’s coming tomorrow rather than today- so I nervously creep to the top of the stairs to watch as mum opens the door- and the figure on the doorstep causes me to almost faint with shock.

“R-Robert?” Mum gasps.

“…Dad?” I whisper, stunned by the sight of the man I haven’t seen in nine years.

“Hello Michelle,” dad says. “Merry Christmas! Is that little boy of mine here?”

“What are you doing here?” Mum asks, her voice a mixture of confusion and anger.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Dad says. “I’m here to see Leon, give him his Christmas presents!”

“He’s not here,” mum says hastily, clearly terrified about what the man’s reaction would be if he ever sees ‘Laura’.

“Well then I’ll come back tomorrow,” dad says. “I’m staying with my sister and her kids over Christmas, it’d be great if Leon could catch up with his cousins one day over the holidays! He started secondary school in September, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” mum says.

“So… Can I come in, catch up with YOU for a bit before Leon comes back?” Dad says. When mum stumbles over her words, it becomes immediately clear that dad isn’t going to take no for an answer- and I AM going to have to confront him sooner or later. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, slowly descending the stairs and shaking with fear as dad’s eyes go wide when he sees me in all my feminine glory.

“Le-Leon?” Dad whispers, in a state of shock.

“Laura,” I say, my shaking only getting harder as dad’s face screws up in a scowl of pure rage.

“What the FUCK have you done to him!?” Dad bellow in my mum’s face, who cowers in fear. “I go away and you turn MY son into a fucking queer!? You hate me that much that when you can’t get back at me you punish MY son instead!?”

“I am a girl!” I say defiantly, tears forming in my eyes as dad turns his anger in my direction.

“Don’t be stupid, you pathetic little shit!” Dad yells, making me feel sick. “You’re a boy! Now go upstairs and take that woman’s shit off! NOW!”

“You do not come into my house and yell at my daughter like that!” Mum says, standing up to dad in a way I didn’t think she was capable of.

“You shut your fucking mouth!” Dad yells in my mum’s face. “You’re not fit to be a mother you filthy little cunt, you never were! I knew I should’ve taken Leon instead of you! I suppose Ricky’s become a rent boy too, hmm?”

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that,” mum says with a quivering voice. “I don’t know why I ever married you in the first place!” Tears stream down my face as the two people who gave me life bellow at each other in a way I haven’t heard in almost nine years.

“You get upstairs, and get changed, you’re coming with me,” dad orders me. I meekly start to obey, before stopping dead on the stairs.

“No,” I say defiantly, making dad’s face actually turn red with anger.

“NOW!” He bellows, barging past mum to yell directly in my face.

“GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE!” Mum yells, shaking with fear as dad turns his anger on her. Disregarding her, dad grabs my wrist and starts to forcibly drag me down the stairs. I grab the banister for support, but obviously my father is a lot stronger than me, and I can feel my grip starting to loosen when mum reaches into her bag for her phone.

“Police, please,” mum says, looking straight at dad, who immediately releases me. “My ex-husband has barged into my home and is trying to abduct my daughter.”

“HANG THAT PHONE UP!” Dad yells.

“Yes, that’s him you can hear,” mum says, her voice filled with raw emotion. “No, I’m not in a safe place, he can see AND hear me.” Sensing that he’s in a LOT of trouble, dad immediately releases me and runs out of the house without saying another word, slamming the door behind him. I slowly head downstairs and give mum a long hug.

“Yes, he’s gone now,” mum whispers into the phone, her eyes filling with tears. “Yes, if you could send an officer round I’d be grateful… I think I need a restraining order.” With her legs barely able to support her weight, mum returns to the living room, where she and I collapse on the sofa, still hugging each other. A short while later, two police officers arrive, and I’m sent to my room whilst they talk to mum, but I don’t return to my homework as I’m completely incapable of concentrating following the confrontation.

I don’t have that many memories of dad- what little I know I was told by mum, grandma or Ricky- but from what I understand, he was not a nice man in the slightest. Whilst mum’s never told me that he ever laid a hand on her, I do know that arguments and language like the one I witnessed today were commonplace during their marriage. When mum calls me down after the police have left, I immediately go over and give her a long hug, and once again I am a confused four year old boy clinging to his mother for support, only this time, I’m not wondering where my dad is- I’m praying that he never returns.

“What did the police say?” I ask.

“I’m to call them if he ever returns,” mum says. “Laura, I PROMISE you I’ll never let him take you away from me, or force you to stop living as a girl.”

“Legally… Can he?” I ask.

“No,” mum says. “We’ve got your ‘diagnosis’ in writing, that’s a legal document, he can’t argue against it, just as Ricky couldn’t.” I nod and force a smile onto my face, but I’m far from convinced, and later as I go to bed, I’m still anxious about the day’s events.

I smile as I greet my four school friends at the school gate, relishing the feeling of my skirt blowing around my tights-covered legs. As I go to follow my friends, however, a strong arm grabs me and drags me backwards. I call out to my friends, but they don’t hear me and keeping walking away, out of my life forever.

“Come on!” Dad yells as he drags me backwards, out of my skirt and my tights and into a pair of boy’s school trousers.

“Come on!” Dad repeats. “NOW!”

I awake with a scream and immediately start crying from fear and frustration. When I get up the following morning, after washing and taking my ‘boy-blocker’, I dress as femininely as possible, pulling on black tights that are covered in bright pink hearts, my blue ballet leotard and a knee-length pink dress. I also apply make-up, even though I’m not going out- just a little eyeliner, mascara and lipstick. I even spray on a tiny amount of perfume before skipping downstairs and sitting at the breakfast table, where mum can’t help but comment on my ‘overt femininity’.

“Need to feel extra girly today, huh?” Mum asks, and I nod in response. “Just don’t let your grandma see with you with THAT much make-up on!” I giggle as I eat my breakfast- right now, I feel ‘secure’ under my external layers of femininity, like I’m wrapped in a comfortable, snuggly security blanket, a blanket I don’t want to unwrap myself from for anyone.

I while away the morning watching TV and begin to forget my troubles when a knock comes from our front door. I feel a little guilty as I go to answer the door- I didn’t wash off any of my make-up as mum had advised- but when I answer the door, it’s not my grandmother standing there, but my father.

“Come with me, now,” dad whispers, the anger creeping back into his voice as he sees my clothes and make-up. I shake my head, but my panic only increases when I see my brother step out dad’s car and stand next to the older man.

“Mum!” I yell, barely restraining the terror in my voice. “Mum!!!”

“Stop shouting!” Dad growls. “Just get in the car. Now!”

“No!” I say, trying to slam the door in the men’s faces but failing when dad jams his foot in the door, barging his way into the house. “Mum!” I run into the living room, breathing a sigh of relief as I stand next to my mother opposite the two uninvited men.

“Robert!” Mum exclaims. “Ricky? What are you doing here?”

“Dad called and said there was something wrong with Leon and that I needed to come home immediately,” Ricky explains.

“I’m here to reunite MY family,” dad says angrily. “To take both MY sons home!”

“No!” Mum shouts, wrapping a protective arm around me. “Laura is my daughter, and she’s staying with me!”

“You have turned him into a fucking faggot AGAINST HIS WILL and you WILL give him to me!” Dad demands. I can’t help but feel sick as dad insults me in such a vile manner, though a ray of hope enters me as I see Ricky is equally uncomfortable with his father’s choice of language.

“This is NOT against her will!” Mum shouts. “We have documentation, doctor’s notes, prescriptions, Laura IS, legally and medically, a girl trapped in a boy’s body. Ricky, tell him!”

“What!?” Dad yells in Ricky’s face. “You mean to tell me you know about this- this- this THING!?”

“Yeah, yeah I did,” Ricky says matter-of-factly.

“And you didn’t think to TELL ME!?” Dad yells.

“What’s it got to do with you?” Ricky laughs, unfazed by the older man’s rage. “You walked out eight years ago, you’ve got no right to call yourself a father to me OR to Leon.”

“Then what the hell are you doing here!?” Dad yells.

“You said there was something wrong with Leon,” Ricky says. “I’m still his brother, I still care about him regardless of what he’s wearing or calling himself.”

“You are a pathetic excuse for a son AND a brother!” Dad yells at Ricky, who simply rolls his eyes at the older man. “Don’t you dare roll your eyes at me, you fucking faggot-lover!” My jaw drops in shock as, in one fluid motion, Ricky draws his fist back and punches our father square in the middle of the face, all without changing his facial expression. Dad slumps against the wall, stunned but not knocked-out.

“And you,” Ricky says, “are a pathetic excuse for a father AND a human being. You deserved that punch.”

“You little shit!” Dad yells, clutching his bloodied nose. “I’ll see you behind bars for this!”

“Ricky was defending his little sister from you,” mum says smugly. “And given that the police have already been around here one because you tried abducting her, who do you suppose they’ll believe? Come near me OR my family again and I’ll slap you with a restraining order so wide you’ll have to move to New Zealand!” Sensing that he’s defeated, dad scurries out of the house and gets in his car, driving away without another word.

“Ricky…” I say, stunned by my brother’s violent outburst.

“What?” Ricky shrugs. “For what he said and did, he deserved to be punched in the face. Guess I’ve got to find another way back to the train station now…”

“For that, I’LL drive you,” mum says, giving Ricky an awkward hug. “Why DID you come with him anyway?”

“Like I said,” Ricky says, “dad called up out of the blue and said something was wrong with Leon and I needed to come down urgently, I got two days’ leave citing family emergency, here I am. First I thought something had happened to you, hence why dad’s calling me and not you, but it didn’t take too long to figure out that he was having one of his flip-outs and it was pretty obvious it was about Leon stroke Laura.”

“And you didn’t tell him about Laura?” Mum asks.

“Like I said,” Ricky repeats more firmly. “I don’t see what business it is of his. If he really cared he’d have called within the last nine years.”

“He sent me a birthday card,” I mumble.

“Oh wow,” Ricky snorts. “One card in nine years, what an amazing dad.”

“It’s one more card than I got from you this year,” I say, earning a confused stare from my brother as mum looks on disapprovingly.

“Didn’t you get my parcel?” Ricky asks, and I shake my head. “Oh, mate, I am sorry. Fucking Royal Mail.” I open my mouth to speak when I’m interrupted by a knock at the door.

“That’ll be your grandmother,” mum says. “Wait here, you two.” Ricky and I dutifully remain on the sofa whilst mum answers the door.

“Le-“ Ricky starts, but I interrupt him.

“If you’re telling me to get a haircut, I won’t,” I say defiantly.

“I wasn’t,” Ricky says. “I WAS going to talk about seeing a counsellor at work, but if you’re going to interrupt me, I shan’t bother…”

“No, go on, please,” I say.

“After I went to that meeting with your counsellor with you and mum,” Ricky says, “I booked in to see one of the counsellors on camp. Obviously I did this in private so that none of the guys caught wind of it, but when I talked to him about you and everything, he actually said that what your counsellor said- about me having some sort of narcissistic disorder- might be right.”

“…What did he say about me?” I ask, making Ricky laugh.

“Ha, who’s supposed to be the narcissist in the family?” My brother teases, making me frown. “Nah, seriously, he said that I should try to be more accepting of your- well, ‘you’. Kinda helped me to remember that you’re not a little boy any more, when I was 12 I thought I knew everything. Though in fairness, I DID know everything, still do, actually. So no, no talk of haircuts, when you want one, you’ll call me for it.”

“Suppose I never want one ever again?” I ask.

“You will,” Ricky says smugly. “So, did dad REALLY try to abduct you?” I prepare a response when once again, I’m interrupted, this time by mum returning to the living room with grandma in tow, whose jaw drops when she sees Ricky sat on the sofa.

“You’d better not be tormenting your sister, young man!” Grandma scowls, making me bite my lip to stop from giggling- though my facial expression quickly falls when grandma immediately turns her attention to me.

“And I don’t see what you’re grinning at, young lady!” Grandma says. “You might think it’s acceptable to wear that much make-up when you’re twelve, but I certainly don’t!” My eyes instantly direct their attention to the floor as I shuffle upstairs.

“I’ll clean myself up,” I mumble. Ten minutes later, after I’ve remove all my make-up save for some mascara (and my nail polish, which grandma actually loves), I’m sat with the rest of my family around the dinner table, eating a delicious meal prepared mostly by my mother and grandmother, but which I played a small part in making too. Needless to say, grandma was furious when she heard about dad’s actions over the past few days, and whilst she was openly unhappy about Ricky’s ‘solution’ of the problem, deep down I can tell she is at least slightly proud of him for smacking down dad.

“You know,” Ricky says, “I could actually get used to having a sister, this way I’m the only man in the family and I can get waited on hand and foot.” This time, I do let out a giggle as grandma projects a VERY stern gaze at my brother.

“Good,” grandma says. “Then you won’t mind doing the washing up!”

“Why can’t Leon do it?” Ricky asks with a shrug.

“You can’t expect your sister to do the washing up with her nails, surely?” Grandma retorts as I casually splay my blue-tipped fingers for my brother, who simply rolls his eyes.

“Fine,” Ricky sighs. “I honestly DID send a parcel for your birthday, Le-“ A stern glare from grandma makes Ricky pause before completing my ‘boy’s name’.

“I did send a parcel,” Ricky says. “Just a small one, had a couple of books in it, some vouchers for high street stores. Basically tried to make the presents as androgynous as possible. I sent a Christmas parcel too- before I realised I’d be here in person, that is. It’s the same sort of stuff in there.”

“Thanks,” I say with a genuine smile. “I, um, didn’t actually get you anything, after I thought you’d not got me anything for my birthday…”

“That’s okay,” grandma says. “I’ll take you shopping tomorrow, you can get something then.”

“Umm, my friends are coming over tomorrow morning-“ I argue, before realising that there’s no arguing with grandma.

“Then we’ll go tomorrow afternoon,” grandma says firmly. “There’ll not be much left but you’ll definitely be able to find something for your brother, right?”

“Right,” I say defeatedly. After finishing dinner (and Ricky’s had the chance to wash up), we sit down to watch television for the rest of the night, though grandma also insists that I change into my ballet gear and dance a few steps for her as well- something I’m only too happy to do! After changing into my night dress and climbing under my warm sheets, I close my eyes and get ready to fall asleep when my bedroom door opens and Ricky comes in uninvited, sitting down on the edge of my bed.

“You know, I am NEVER going to understand why you’re doing what you’re doing,” Ricky says. “But the counsellor I spoke to said that it’s important I allow you to make your own decisions, so that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Thanks,” I say.

“And I’m NOT going to allow dad to take you,” Ricky says. “If I have to punch him a hundred times, I will. I know I shouldn’t, but I genuinely hate him.”

“Was it really bad?” I ask. “You know, before he left?”

“Mum and dad were arguing almost constantly,” Ricky says bluntly. “He’d shout at me too, of course I was your age back then so there wasn’t anything I could do about it, but I always wished that I was strong enough to just shut him up.”

“Guess we both got what we wished for,” I giggle.

“Yeah, I guess we did,” Ricky says with a brief chuckle. “Good night… Lau...ra.” I can tell by the strain in his voice just how difficult it is for Ricky to say my real name, and I can’t help but smile that he is finally able to get the name out.

“Good night, bro,” I say, still smiling as Ricky turns out my light and I almost immediately fall asleep.

After a thankfully dreamless sleep, I wake up, take my ‘boy-blocker’, wash and dress in a very plain grey dress with thick black tights underneath. Conscious that I’m going to be spending at least part of the day with my grandmother, I leave my face make-up free- though as I’ll be spending the morning with my friends, I know my face won’t be make-up free by the afternoon!

After breakfast, during which Ricky and I talk casually with mum about his work and my school, I barely get a chance to catch my breath before Priya and Suriya arrive, both wearing very Christmassy red dresses with red tights. Both girls gasp in shock, though, when they see my brother in the living room.

“I’ll take this as my cue to leave,” Ricky says, grabbing his kit from the hall. “Merry Christmas, mum, merry Christmas, Laura.”

“Merry Christmas, Ricky,” I say, giving my brother a quick hug and a peck on the cheek as he leaves. With a smug smile on my face, I turn to my Indian friends, who are both still staring at me with their jaws on the floor.

“No offence,” Suriya says, “but do you have more than one brother?” I giggle happily as I lead the girls to the living room, where- after being joined by Nicole and Megan- I fill them in on the events of the last two days.

“Oh my god,” Nicole gasps as I finish my tale. “Laura… So much for a ‘happy Christmas’…”

“It’s not all bad,” I shrug. “I got my brother back, which is something, I guess. And I’ve lived without my dad for nine years… I don’t WANT him back.”

“He sounds even worse than Harriet’s dad,” Megan muses.

“How can anyone think it’s right to talk to a twelve year old girl like that?” Priya spits.

“YOUR dad is much more of a dad to me than my so-called ‘real’ dad is,” I say.

“Sometimes I forget how lucky we are to have such awesome parents,” Suriya says, gripping her sister’s arm for support. “Even if you keep falling out with mum!”

“I’m a teenager,” Priya giggles. “I’m supposed to be constantly falling out with my parents!” The five of us all giggle excitedly- the sound of which is the most welcome thing in the world after the last few days.

After a couple of hours of gossiping about parents, listening to music, dancing and, yes, putting on make-up, my grandma knocks on the front door, signifying the end of our latest ‘playtime’. I let my grandmother in, who after tutting at my made-up face (even though I’m not wearing nearly as much make-up as yesterday), spots my friends in the living room.

“Ah, you must be my granddaughter’s friends,” grandma says with a warm smile. “Let me guess… Priya, Suriya, Megan and Nicole, right?” The four girls giggle as grandma correctly identifies all four of them, despite the fact that none of my friends have ever been formally introduced to her.

“Yep!” Nicole giggles. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs.… White?”

“It’s ‘Mrs. Clarke’,” grandma says politely. “But you’re more than welcome to call me ‘Laura’s grandma’!” The four girls all giggle whilst I blush with embarrassment.

“Nice to meet you, ‘Laura’s grandma’!” Suriya says.

“It’s good to know that Laura has such good friends,” grandma says, taking a seat in her usual chair. “Even if, like my granddaughter, you all wear too much make-up!” I cringe slightly as grandma spends the next fifteen minutes getting to know my best friends (and coos approvingly at their manicures), before Mr. Malik takes them away in his people carrier.

“You have such good friends,” grandma says as we get in her car, ready to go shopping. “I’m so glad that you’ve settled in at school, as Laura.”

“I never would have if it wasn’t for them,” I say. “Though not everyone has made it easy for me…”

“Are you talking about that Harriet girl?” Grandma asks, and I nod in response. “Well don’t you mind her. You have four close friends who genuinely care about you, and that’s the greatest blessing you can have apart from family. Love the four friends you have, instead of wasting time trying to make a fifth friend who isn’t interested.”

“I know,” I sigh.

“Now cheer up,” grandma urges, making me force a smile onto my face. “It’s Christmas! We’ve got to get that brother of yours a present, even if he won’t get it until after Christmas, it’s the thought that counts!”

Two hours later, we return home with Ricky’s gift (a small keyring which reads 'lance corporal'- Ricky’s rank- 'by day, badass big brother by night'), which I quickly wrap and pop into a padded envelope, ready to post after Christmas. Once I’m done, I head down to the living room and crash on my sofa, opposite mum, who has a very worried look on her face.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“It’s nothing,” mum says.

“No, tell me,” I plead, but mum simply forces a smile onto her face. “Is it about dad…?”

“It’s nothing, really,” mum insists. “I swear, I will never let ANYONE take you away from me or force you to be something- or someone- you don’t want to be. I love you, Laura. Now let’s just enjoy Christmas, eh?” I smile and nod, but it’s clear from the way mum’s speaking that everything is NOT alright.

Even as I go to bed, I worry about what the future might bring. I should be excited- it is Christmas Eve, after all- but the recent ‘incidents’ with dad, and mum’s worried expression tonight mean I have difficulty sleeping.

I wake up and throw my covers back excitedly, running downstairs as fast as I can and ripping open my first present. Inside, however, I find a pair of smart boy’s trousers. Confused, I open my next present- a football. My next present is a set of toy guns, followed by a new pair of football boots, a set of Batman comics…

“Merry Christmas Leon,” dad says, coming in from the kitchen. Instantly, my trousers wrap themselves around my waist and I scream in terror as I’m dragged deeper and deeper into a black hole of masculinity…

I’m still screaming as I wake up in my bed. I quickly check my body, breathing a sigh of relief as I feel my night dress still in its proper place. After a quick check of my alarm clock- which reads 3:15am- I roll back over in bed, but no matter what I try, I can’t get back to sleep, I’m that excited about what my REAL presents might be… And terrified that my dream may come true.

I eventually head downstairs just after 6:15am to find mum already awake and preparing a special breakfast of cheese and scrambled eggs. At her insistence, I start tearing open my presents to find everything I’d hoped for- make-up, nail polish, ballet books & DVDs, and endless amounts of clothes- underwear, including tights of many different colours, a pair of shorts, two new skirts, a new dress, several girly tops and t-shirts, two new pairs of girly flats and even a new pink winter coat. By far my best present, though, is a joint present from mum and grandma- a new Android tablet that I immediately hook up to the house’s Wi-Fi and use to log in to Facebook and send excited messages to Nicole, Megan, Priya & Suriya, who all message back with tales of the presents they all got. Before I eat breakfast, mum gives me one more package from underneath the tree- the parcel Ricky sent, which arrived yesterday whilst I was out with grandma. Inside are two yellow unisex t-shirts and a pair of very plain, androgynous trainers. I giggle as I fire off a ‘thank you’ message to my brother on my new tablet- whilst he’s not fully accepted me as his sister yet, he’s clearly making at least a token effort.

After breakfast, I change into a new pair of red tights, my new dress and a pair of new flats, before applying a small amount of make-up, pulling on my new winter coat and following my mum out to her car.

“So,” mum asks. “Did you get everything you wanted?”

“I did,” I say a warm smile. “I just got most of it BEFORE Christmas, that’s all!” Mum and I both giggle happily as we drive to grandma’s for our Christmas dinner.

And I did get what I want... But at the same time, I got more than I asked for. Even as I eat Christmas dinner, as grandma coos over my new dress (and tells me off about my make-up, even though I'm hardly wearing any) and I feel more immersed in my new girl's life than ever, I'm still uneasy. After nine years, I'd got used to not having my dad in my life, and now, I wish more than anything that he'd stay out of it. As bad as Ricky reacted to my change, dad is a hundred times worse... And whether Ricky's 'siding with me' because he truly accepts my change or because he hates dad as much as I do, I can't say. One thing's for sure, and that's that I've not heard the last from him.

But if my friends have taught me anything, it's that I need to stay positive. After the holidays end, I'll still be a schoolgirl, I'll still be a (wannabe) ballerina, I'll still be a (wannabe) actress, I'll still take my 'boy blockers'... I'll still be Laura, no matter what some middle-aged stranger who used to be my father says. His son is gone... And if he wants a daughter, it's up to him to change to meet her needs, not the other way round.

“Project more!” Mrs. Ingram urges me. “We want to be able to hear you all the way at the back of the class!”

“I will never let you manipulate me into taking a stand against my own father!” I say in a loud, forceful voice to the girl stood opposite me. “No matter how much you threaten me!”

“Oh yes you will speak out against him!” Claire- my classmate- says in a voice that I can’t help but notice is a lot LESS powerful than my own. “You will do as I say, or I will see you starving on the street with all the other garbage!” I pause, smirking as everyone in the room offers the two of us a round of applause- everyone, that is, except one person.

“Bravo, girls!” Mrs. Ingram shouts. “Okay, Harriet and Suriya, you’re next!” I scowl at Harriet- who was, unsurprisingly, the only girl not to applaud- as she and Suriya walk up to the stage to recite the same scene Claire and I had done. I still applaud- for Suriya’s sake, not Harriet’s- once they’re done, but I make a point of NOT looking at Harriet as she sits down. I lean in to whisper to Suriya, but am interrupted by the ringing of the school bell.

“Okay,” Mrs. Ingram says. “Remember it’s the formal auditions tomorrow afternoon after school!” Nicole giggles excitedly as she walks to our next class with myself and Suriya.

“Oh my god oh my god!” Nicole squeaks. “We’re going to be in a play!”

“There aren’t enough parts for ALL of us,” I say.

“Well then HARRIET will just have to go without, won’t she?” Nicole says as our former friend walks past, scowling at us as Nicole says her name in as sarcastic a manner as possible.

“Yeah!” Suriya laughs. “You two still coming over tonight?”

“Of course!” I reply. “Need to get in all the practice we can if we’re going to become famous Hollywood actresses, right?” The three of us all giggle happily as we head to our final class for the day. After the bell rings to signify the end of the school day, myself, Nicole and Suriya- along with Priya (who, of course, lives with Suriya) and Megan (who wanted to come along to watch)- pile into the back of Mr. Malik’s people carrier with our school bags and head back to their family’s large house.

“Come on!” Megan squeaks as she and Priya collapse down onto the plush sofa.

“Yeah!” Priya says. “And don’t say you need a costume, you’ve been practising all lunch in your uniforms, you can practise in them now!” Suriya, Nicole and I all giggle as we clear a space in front of the sofa and take our places.

“Good morning, Miss Patrick!” Nicole says to me in her flamboyant style. “Is the morning treating you well?”

“Good morning, Miss Peters!” I reply in an equally flamboyant manner. “I am SO looking forward to today, Mr. Henry and his brothers have promised to take us to the lakefront for lunch…”

“Bravo!” Megan calls, making both myself and Nicole blush.

“So, who will be playing this ‘Mr. Henry’?” Priya asks, barely suppressing her giggles.

“We don’t know yet!” Nicole answers. “It’s not just our school who’ll be in this play, a few local schools will be joining in too. What we do know, though, is that he will be played by a BOY!”

“A cute one, hopefully!” Suriya giggles, causing a mass giggle that I join in with. However, as the ‘rehearsal’ descends into a discussion of boys and boy bands, I find myself feeling uncomfortable. Whilst I consider myself to be a normal girl, there are certain aspects of ‘girl life’ I haven’t quite adjusted to yet, and the obsession with boys is one of them- which will be a big problem as my friends’ obsession with boys will only grow as we get older. It didn't help that for Valentine's Day two weeks ago, Nicole and Priya both received cards from anonymous boys. I, of course, didn't- but as Megan and Suriya didn't either, I don't feel TOO left out.

My counsellor has told me that once I start full hormone replacement therapy, there’s every chance my sexual orientation will readjust so that I end up liking boys, but I’m a long, long way away from that, and the ‘boy-blockers’ I’m taking at the moment are having very little effect on my mind and body even 3 months after I started taking them- though thankfully, they’re also preventing my body from producing testosterone, which would have an even bigger and much more negative effect (at least from my point of view). I’ve been told that with the testosterone blocked, what little oestrogen my body naturally produces will be allowed to dominate, but I haven’t noticed any effects. I regularly check my chest to see if my breasts might be growing, but aside from the occasional sensitive patch, I’m as flat-chested as I was when I was 4.

One effect I’ve noticed, though- and I don’t know whether or not this is down to the ‘boy-blockers’- is that those wonderful moment when I forget I was ever a boy are increasing in both frequency and duration. Obviously, when my friends and I are discussing boys, the chance of having one of these ‘moments’ decreases, but when Priya puts on some music and we all start dancing, our skirts swishing around our legs and my medium-length hair bouncing up and down, a ‘moment’ occurs. As the music stops, so does the ‘moment’ and I get the usual low feelings that that brings, but as the ‘moments’ last longer, the ‘comedowns’ last for less and less time.

After Mr. Malik drives myself, Nicole and Megan to our respective homes, I collapse on my sofa and try to induce another ‘moment’. Sat in a pair of soft grey tights, a pleated grey skirt and a pair of flats with cute bows on the toes, it’s not hard to believe that I’ve always been a girl, but every time I try to forget, I’m reminded that it was in this very house less than two months ago that my so-called father literally tried to drag me out of the house. It was in this house two months earlier that my brother did everything he could to try to bully me back into being a boy. And it was in this house three months before that that one of the first friends I ever made as Laura was forced by her father to become a bully, to torment me at every opportunity she gets.

Whilst Ricky seems to be making at least a token effort to accept me for who I really am, and dad has a restraining order that prevents him from coming within 500 metres of our house, Harriet is still as much my enemy as she was back in September. She doesn’t actively go out of her way to make my life miserable any more- a few detentions in October persuaded her to leave me alone- but whenever I (and the rest of the girls) are around her, there’s an air of hostility that makes my skin crawl.

“Did you have fun at the Maliks’s?” Mum asks.

“Yeah,” I say.

“And you arranged meetings for all of your teachers for parents evening on Thursday?” Mum asks.

“Yep,” I say. “Got my English teacher this afternoon.”

“Good,” mum says. “Do you still want to come with me? You never used to at primary school…”

“Suriya’s going with her dad,” I explain. “Nicole and Megan said they would too…”

“…And you don’t want to feel left out,” mum says.

“I’ve spent most of my life feeling left out,” I laugh, making mum sit down next to me and give me a big hug.

“Not anymore,” mum says with a warm smile.

After finishing my homework and chatting with my friends on my tablet computer, I head straight to bed, where I dream happy dreams of being an elegant lady in a long, beautiful dress, just like the part I’m auditioning for in my play.

When I wake up on Wednesday morning, I run through my usual routine of washing, taking my ‘boy blocker’ and dressing in my trusty grey tights, white blouse and pleated grey skirt, but in addition to my school books, I also carefully pack my pink ballet tights, my light blue leotard and my ballet slippers into my bag. Auditions for the play will be immediately after school, meaning I won’t have the time to come home and change into my dance gear before that particular lesson begins.

When I meet with my friends at the school gate, Nicole and Suriya- both giggling excitedly- open their bags to show me that they’ve had the same idea in bringing their ballet gear to school.

“I’d be wearing it now if I thought I could get away with pink tights,” Nicole giggles as she heads to form with myself and Suriya. I very quickly close my bag, however, when I see Harriet enter the class and take her seat on the opposite side of the room- the last thing I need is her getting a hold of my leotard.

The school day drags as I find myself more and more anxious- and yet excited- about the auditions. When the bell FINALLY rings at 3:15pm, it’s all I can do not to immediately leap out of my chair, but I manage to stay (externally, anyway) calm enough to coolly grab my bag and walk alongside Nicole and Suriya- who I can tell are just as nervous as me- to the main assembly hall, where almost thirty girls (and, surprisingly, a handful of boys) are waiting along with Mrs. Ingram. Much to my dismay, Harriet is also already in the hall.

“I think that’s the last of us,” Mrs. Ingram announces. “Okay, we’ll be reading for the parts of Miss Patrick and Miss Peters first. Hands up all those trying for Miss Patrick? I raise my hand, and much to my surprise (as Miss Patrick is a fairly major role), only two other girls raise theirs- one is a year 8 girl called Kara, and the other is Harriet.

“Good luck, Kara,” Harriet says, before casting a snide grin in my direction. I roll my eyes as Mrs. Ingram separates us from the rest of the group, before placing a slightly larger group- including Nicole and Suriya- slightly to the side of us, the girls who are auditioning for the role of Miss Peters.

“Okay,” Mrs. Ingram says. “Harriet and Suriya, you’re first.” I stand stoically and watch as Harriet and Suriya run through the scene, and applaud politely as they step off the stage. Kara and Nicole are next, meaning I have to wait until last, much to my dismay. As I get up on the stage with Claire I feel prepared, ready for anything that the audition can throw at me, but my stomach sinks when I glance at the ‘audience’ and see Harriet confidently stride over to my bag and open it, pulling out my leotard and stuffing it under her blazer. I run through the scene with Claire flawlessly, but every time I look out at the crowd, Harriet holds up my leotard, taunting me with it like a red flag to a bull. After I’m let off the stage, I walk up to Harriet with a look of pure fury on my face.

“Give it back,” I hiss.

“Give what back?” Harriet asks with an evil smug grin.

“You know what,” I growl. “You have no right to go through my things!”

“You have no right to own a leotard,” Harriet sneers. “You’re. Not. A. Girl.”

“Is there a problem here, girls?” Mrs. Ingram asks, sensing the disruption to her auditions.

“No,” Harriet says smugly. When Mrs. Ingram] looks at me, I take a deep breath and swallow my pride- Harriet is a hassle I can do without, and even though I’ll get a reputation as a telltale… It’s no worse than the reputation with which I started this school.

“Harriet went into my bag and stole my leotard,” I say. “She’s hiding it under her blazer.”

“Harriet, is this true?” Mrs. Ingram asks.

“No,” Harriet says, shaking her head.

“Liar!” I spit, earning a stern stare from the teacher.

“Open your blazer and show me,” Mrs. Ingram says. Sensing that she has no way out, Harriet very quickly opens her blazer before pulling it shut again, but that’s long enough to catch a glimpse of the light blue garment she has hidden behind her blazer- a colour VERY unlike the lining of the jackets.

“Give it back, Harriet,” the teacher insists. With a look of sheer frustration on her face, Harriet throws my leotard to the ground and stomps on it, tearing the stitching and leaving a big, dirty footprint on the back. Ignoring the teacher’s protested yells, Harriet then walks straight out of the hall without looking back.

“Harriet!” Mrs. Ingram yells as I sadly scoop up my destroyed leotard. “Don’t worry Laura, I’ll make sure she is SEVERELY punished for that.”

“Thanks,” I say half-heartedly as I pack the leotard back in my bag.

“I always take a spare with me,” Nicole says, giving my shoulder a quick squeeze. “Cinderella, you WILL go to the ball…et class!”

“Thanks,” I giggle, though inside I’m still miserable. A leotard can be replaced, but what Harriet did… That’ll stay with me forever.

Later that night, as I leave ballet class with Nicole’s snug leotard clinging to my body, I’m still upset by what happened. I’ve fallen out with former friends before, but never to this extent, and as I arrive home, still dressed in my dance gear, mum can instantly tell something’s not right with me.

“Hi Laura,” mum says. “Are you okay? Just tired?”

“Yeah, kind of,” I sigh, dropping my bag in the hall and myself on the sofa.

“Is that your leotard?” Mum asks. “I don’t remember seeing that style before…”

“It’s Nicole’s,” I say. “Mine… Harriet went in my bag at school and tore mine.” Normally, when I tell mum about anything involving Harriet, I usually get a sympathetic reply and a promise to speak to Harriet’s father (which never results in anything productive), but after I tell my mum about my leotard, for the first time in a very long while, she is ANGRY.

“Ugh,” mum spits. “That- that’s too much.”

“She’s been like this for almost six months now,” I moan, making mum sit down next to me and give me a quick hug.

“I know, I know,” mum sighs. “I know it may seem like I don’t care at times, but I genuinely do, I don’t want to see you miserable anywhere, especially not at school.”

“Will you be calling her dad again?” I ask.

“It hasn’t worked the last million times, has it?” Mum laughs. “No, tomorrow’s parents evening, and as Harriet’s in your class, I’ll see if I can talk to him then.”

“Oh- no,” I reply. “Please, please don’t cause a scene…”

“No, this needs sorting,” mum says firmly. “If she’s vandalising your things, then he needs to know about it.”

"He probably put her up to it!" I complain.

"All the more reason to get it sorted out sooner rather than later," mum insists. I sigh resignedly as it becomes clear that I’m not going to win this argument, but as I go to bed later I’m still worried- I’m still the one who’ll have to deal with Harriet at school, and even though she means well, mum has every chance of making things infinitely worse for me at school…

I’m still worried the following morning as I pull on my school skirt and head downstairs to mum’s car, but as I arrive at the school gates, Megan & Nicole’s presence calms me down- even as I see Harriet walk toward us with a look of pure fury on her face.

“Thanks for getting me put in isolation, BOY,” Harriet spits as we head to form without her.

“You did that yourself!” Nicole retorts.

“Just- can we just leave it, please?” I sigh. “I don’t even want to THINK about her any more…”

The school day passes a lot more smoothly than usual- with Harriet in isolation, she has no opportunity to teases me or make my life miserable, meaning for once, I should be able to relax- but with parents evening tonight and mum’s promise of forcing a solution to the whole ‘Harriet issue’, I’m tense for the whole day, and that continues even after I change from my uniform into a plain pink jumper, black skirt and black tights ahead of the parents evening.

“PLEASE don’t make a scene,” I say quietly as we arrive at the school for the second time in less than twelve hours.

“I won’t, I promise,” mum says, “but this needs dealing with, and it needs dealing with tonight. I’m sure that if I talk to Harriet’s father face-to-face I can make him see reason and stop this silly little feud between the two of you.” I nod as we head into the school, but I’m far from convinced.

“I must say,” Mr. Clarke, my English teacher, says to my mum, “the improvement in Laura’s work even over the course of five months has been remarkable. When we looked at her Year 6 test results, we had an idea of how to help her progress, but she’s leaps and bounds beyond where we expected her to be at this point. When we place her into sets at the start of year 8, it’s very likely she’ll be placed in the top set.” I blush slightly as mum turns to me with a proud smile on her face- and her smile only widens as the same story is repeated by all my teachers, finishing with Mr. Sheldon, my form tutor.

“I will admit,“ Mr. Sheldon says, “when I was told I was getting a transgendered pupil in my form, I didn’t know what to expect, but Laura has been one of my most consistently well-behaved pupils. However… That’s not to say that there haven’t been some, shall we say, ‘incidents’ involving Laura and another pupil.”

“Harriet Cooper?” Mum asks, making my teacher nod. “Yes, I wanted to talk to you about this.” I close my eyes and lower my head, not wanting- but at the same time wanting- to listen to the inevitable incoming fallout.

“Yesterday Laura came home having suffered damage to her property at Harriet’s hands,” mum says, making me cringe further. “She said when she came home tonight that you’ve played Harriet in isolation, but that’s not going to replace Laura’s leotard, and when she gets out of isolation, the whole thing will start again.”

“I understand your concerns,“ Mr. Sheldon says. “However I and all the other teachers can only act in accordance with the school’s guidelines when it comes to punishments. I am sorry if you feel that they’re ineffective…”

“It’s not just a feeling that it’s ‘ineffective’,” mum says. “Have you spoken to Harriet’s father yet?”

“Yes, though obviously that discussion was confidential, just as this one is,” Mr. Sheldon explains as my insides begin to squirm from embarrassment.

“I understand,” mum says. “However, YOU need to understand that this can’t be allowed to continue.”

“Mum,” I say quietly, desperate for her to stop embarrassing me in front of my teacher.

“This needs to be dealt with, Laura,” mum says, before turning her attention back to my teacher. “I need you to tell me, here and now, what the school is going to do to ensure that more of Laura’s property- or, god forbid, Laura herself- doesn’t get damaged or destroyed.”

“We are taking every step possible to ensure Laura’s safety,” Mr. Sheldon says.

“But what steps, exactly?” Mum asks. “Detentions and isolations are all very well and good, but they’re not solving the problem!” I wince at the same time as my teacher as my mum bombards him with questions, and while the questions are in my best interest, I can’t help but feel sorry for my teacher as he gets increasingly flustered, but eventually- 10 minutes after my slot was supposed to end- mum goes away satisfied with the answers she received.

As we step out into the car park, I breathe a long, loud sigh of relief that my first parents evening at my new school is over, but before we get in the car, my tension goes from bad to worse as I see a familiar ginger-haired girl and her father staring directly at myself and my mum.

“Hey you!” Harriet’s dad angrily yells at mum and me, dragging his daughter who looks just as mortified as I am.

“Please, please can we go?” I ask mum, who stands her ground, much to my dismay.

“Are you Mr. Cooper?” Mum asks the angry man.

“You know damn well who I am!” Harriet’s dad yells in my mum’s face, who doesn’t flinch as he rants and raves. “Your FREAK of a son got my daughter placed in isolation for the whole week!”

“Well your daughter shouldn’t have damaged my DAUGHTER’s property!” Mum retorts.

“You don’t HAVE a daughter!” Mr. Cooper shouts. “You have a transvestite of a son who’s making my daughter’s life miserable!”

“Oh really?” Mum replies. “My DAUGHTER isn’t the one who’s been bullying and teasing Harriet for the last five months! In fact, it’s YOUR daughter who’s been making MY daughter’s life miserable!”

“Your THING deserves to be bullied!” Mr. Cooper yells, making my head snap upward as my blood starts to boil. As I look over at Harriet, however, I’m shocked to see her looking at her dad with a face as angry as my own.

“NO child deserves to be bullied for any reason!” Mum yells. I start to shrink back downwards as the argument draws a large crowd, much like every other fight in this car park- though those fights aren’t usually between two supposed adults.

“Your THING is endangering my daughter by showing up to school dressed the way he is!” Mr. Cooper yells.

“How?” Mum replies. “How is she having any effect whatsoever on your daughter? Harriet, do you feel endangered?” Harriet’s eyes go wide as my mum puts her on the spot, and for the first time in a very long while, I actually feel sorry for the flame-haired girl.

“Tell her!” Mr. Cooper yells at his daughter with a face full of rage. Harriet gulps, and I can actually see the fear in her eyes- a fear I know all too well.

“No,” Harriet bravely says. “No, Laura ISN’T endangering me!”

“Oh, you little shit!” Harriet’s dad yells in his daughter’s face. “HOW DARE YOU HUMILIATE ME LIKE THIS!” As Harriet’s dad yells at her, I flashback to Christmas, when my own so-called father yelled in my face for daring to be the person I wanted to be. Back then, I had mum- and later Ricky- to stand up for me, but Harriet has no one backing her up as her dad screams at her.

“It’s bad enough you waste your time pissing around with things like drama and dance,” Mr. Cooper shouts. “Now you’re telling me you think that- that THING is OKAY? I didn’t raise you to be a faggot-lover, I raised you to be a-“

“-A bigot?” Mrs. Houghton, who had been watching, interrupts.

“Who the fuck are you!?” Mr. Cooper yells at the stony-faced woman.

“Your daughter’s head teacher,” Mrs. Houghton replies, “as most of the other parents here actually know.”

“So you’re the one who let that little queer into this school, are you?” Mr. Cooper defiantly yells as Harriet buries her head in her hands out of shame.

“I will not have you speak about ANY of the pupils at this school in that manner,” Mrs. Houghton says. “Please leave. Now.”

“I’m not going anywhere!” Mr. Cooper yells, making Mrs. Houghton reach into her handbag for her phone.

“Leave now, or I WILL call the police and have you escorted from school grounds,” Mrs. Houghton says. Knowing he’s defeated, Harriet’s dad turns to his still-cowering daughter.

“Look what YOU did, you disobedient little shit!” Mr. Cooper yells. Inside me, something snaps. Just fifteen minutes of an arrogant, selfish man like Harriet’s dad- or my dad- was enough to leave me shattered into pieces. Living with someone like that, day in, day out… In a way, I’m not surprised Harriet is the way she is.

“You did it yourself!” I shout at Mr. Cooper, cowering in fear as he turns to me with a look of utter hatred in his eyes.

“You stay away from my daughter, you pathetic little THING!” Mr. Cooper spits at me.

“Then you tell your daughter to stop bullying mine!” Mum shouts at the man.

“I’m dialling 999,” Mrs. Houghton announces loudly. Without saying another word, Mr. Cooper grabs Harriet by the arm and escorts her to his car, roughly shoving her onto the back seat before driving away. With the assembled crowd staring at us, mum and I prepare to leave, when one of the parents who had been watching speaks up.

“Well I for one,” the middle-aged woman- whose child I don’t recognise- says, “am happy that my son is at the same school as such a courageous and intelligent young woman. Good on you, Laura.”

“Absolutely,” Mr. Wyatt- Nicole’s father- says. “Thank you Laura, thank you for being such a good friend to my daughter.” Much to mine and my mother’s surprise, Mr. Wyatt starts clapping, quickly followed by the rest of the crowd including Mrs. Houghton and all the teachers. The applause continues as we get in our car and drive away. My cheeks burn with embarrassment as the sound of the clapping fades into the background, but as well as the embarrassment, I feel a sense of pride, a warmth in my heart that there are so many people out there willing to support me. Even if they are only doing so because of peer pressure or because they’re following Mrs. Houghton’s example… It still means a lot. As I head to bed, I have a smile on my face, and when I wake up the following morning, I’m more eager than ever to pull on my uniform and head to school.

As I arrive at the school gate, I’m greeted with another rapturous round of applause, this time from my four friends who are all waiting for me. After they finish clapping, they all give me quick hugs before we head to class.

“You’re so awesome, standing up to that bully like that!” Nicole squeaks, giving me another hug as we head to form.

“I’d never have had the courage to do that!” Suriya gushes.

“I- I don’t know,” I laugh. “But I really, really feel sorry for Harriet, having to live with that monster…”

“Yeah,” Nicole sighs. “But, I mean, no one FORCED her to do or say the things she did to you…”

“Do you think her dad would’ve punished her if she DIDN’T get in trouble?” Suriya muses.

“What’s it got to do with him what I wear to school, anyway?” I ask as I sit down at my desk. “Arsehole deserves locking up.”

“Whoa,” Nicole says, clearly taken aback by my sudden viciousness. “Language, Laura?” I sigh heavily and shake my head- I was a bit harsh, but Nicole doesn’t know- she can’t know what it’s like to have someone despise you simply because of who you are.

“I’m sorry,” I sigh. “It’s just- it- there’s only so much I can take, you know?”

“I know,” Nicole sighs as Mr. Sheldon arrives to start the lesson. With Harriet still in isolation, the day goes smoothly like it had yesterday, but as I head to lunch with my friends, I’m surprised by a call from behind.

“Laura!” Mrs. Ingram shouts, attracting my attention. “Nicole! Suriya!” Confused, the three of us turn around and head over to the young drama teacher, who has a massive grin on her face.

“What is it, Mrs. Ingram?” I ask.

“You tell me,” the drama teacher says in a near-squeaky voice, “Miss Patrick!” My eyes go wide as Mrs. Ingram hands me a green folder that I immediately recognise as the script for the play I auditioned for.

“Oh my god, Laura!” Nicole squeaks, giving me a tight squeeze that I’m barely able to wrestle out of.

"I'm afraid the news for you two isn't as good," Mrs. Ingram continues- but the smiles remain on my friends' faces. "However, Nicole, we'll need an understudy for Miss Peters..."

"Oh my god!" Nicole squeaks. "Thank you so much!"

"Suriya..." Mrs. Ingram says sympathetically to my Indian friend, but the smile hasn't moved from her face.

"I'm okay," Suriya says, "I'll just have to try harder for the next one! AND these two will need someone to help them learn their lines!" The three of us giggle as Mrs. Ingram goes on her way.

"This is so cool!" Nicole gushes. "Especially for you, Laura- bet you never imagined twelve months ago that you'd be a proper actress!"

"I didn't!" I giggle. "But I'm hardly a PROPER actress, it's just a school play..."

"JUST a school play is how all the big actresses got their break," Suriya reminds me. "And it's not just our school, there are 3 other schools involved in the production of this play too. You never know, you might meet a nice BOY from one of the other schools..."

"Ugh, no talk of BOYS please!" I laugh, making my friends giggle even harder.

"Anything you say, MISS PATRICK!" Nicole teases as we head to our usual table to eat lunch and share the good news with Megan and Priya.

I can barely contain my excitement when mum comes to pick me up, and when I tell her the good news, she is of course excited as well- and immediately demands tickets to see the play for both herself and grandma! As we prepare to head home, however, I can't help but notice a very upset-looking ginger haired girl exiting the school's side entrance alone.

"Let's go home," I say quietly. Mum silently nods in agreement, though I can tell she's worried- and not just about me. For the first time in a long time, though, I'm actually glad that I won't have to set foot in school for the next two days. I spend the evening watching TV, learning my lines for the play and chatting with my friends on Facebook, before climbing into bed, where despite my body being exhausted, my mind won't relax due to my worry about Harriet- and about what she'll say or do to me on Monday. Mum and I may have 'won' the confrontation with her dad yesterday, but if that 'man' is anything like my own father, it'll have only made him more determined to make Harriet make my life a misery...

I wake up the following morning and- after washing and taking my boy-blocker- pull on my stretchy purple swimsuit before dressing in a plain red jumper, black tights and a black skirt. Mum's planning on taking me and my friends swimming today, so rather than 'cause a fuss' in the ladies' changing rooms at the pool (obviously I can't use the men's), I wear my swimsuit ahead of time.

As expected, our doorbell rings just after 10am, but when I open the door, I'm greeted by an unexpected face.

"H-Harriet?" I ask, shocked into near-silence.

"Hello, you must be Laura," a flame-haired woman in her mid-thirties- obviously Harriet's mother- says. "May we come in?"

"Um, okay," I say, still stunned by the sight of my nemesis on my doorstep. "Mum!"

"Who was it at the door, Laura?" Mum asks as she comes through from the kitchen, only to gasp in shock at the sight of the unexpected visitor. "You!?"

"You must be Mrs. White," Harriet's mother says, shaking my mum's hand. "I'm Vicky Cooper, Harriet's mother. Harriet has something she wants to say to your daughter." With her cheeks burning through embarrassment, Harriet looks at me, and for the first time in five months, there is no anger or spite in her stare.

"I'm sorry, Laura," Harriet mumbles, looking like she's going to burst into tears at a moment's notice.

"Louder!" Harriet's mother insists.

"I'm-" Harriet repeats, but I interrupt before she has a chance to finish her sentence.

"Apology accepted," I say emotionlessly.

"When I found out what my ex-husband was making Harriet do to your daughter, I was appalled," Mrs. Cooper explains. "I have her at the weekends and he has her during the week when she's at school- at least, he used to. I've already called my solicitor, I'm going to make sure that waste of skin doesn't fill her head with any more of his filth! I can tell just by looking at her that your daughter is a wonderful young woman, one I'd be proud to call my daughter's friend."

"Thank you," mum says, still obviously in shock- but not in as much shock as I am.

"I also understand that she destroyed your daughter's leotard at school," Harriet's mum says, opening her purse and handing my mum £15. "Will this cover the damages?"

"Oh no, I couldn't, really," mum says, but Mrs. Cooper forced the two crinkled notes into my mum's palm.

"Nonsense," Harriet's mum says firmly. "This is coming straight out of her pocket money, it's the least she could do!" I look over at Harriet, whose shame-filled eyes are still directed straight at the floor.

"Girls, I need to talk to Mrs. Cooper alone for a moment," mum says.

"Um, but the others will be here in a bit..." I argue futilely, but a stern stare from my mum as Harriet and myself slinking out of the room. We both sit down on the stairs, and a very awkward minute passes in silence before Harriet speaks up.

"I really am sorry," the flame-haired girl mumbles. "I didn't mean anything I said, but if I didn't, my dad..."

"I forgive you," I say stoically. "Your father's actually a lot like mine."

"Yeah, but you don't have to live with him," Harriet sighs self-pityingly. "I hate him."

"I hate my dad too," I sigh. "He actually tried to kidnap me at Christmas, tried to force me to stop being a girl..."

"Eww," Harriet sneers. "You're MUCH better off being a girl. I don't even know why my dad had such a problem with us being friends, I mean, if I was a boy, yes, I'd get that, but I'm already a girl, so I don't know what he was expecting to happen..." I bristle slightly at Harriet's attempt at reconciliation, but what she's saying is infinitely better than what she's been saying over the past few months, so I let slide her 'getting' her father's thought processes. Another awkward silence fills the stairs as I think of something to say in reply to Harriet, but my own thought processes are interrupted by another knock at the door- which I open to reveal Priya and Suriya, both carrying sports bags containing multi-coloured swimming costumes.

"Hi Laura!" Suriya says. "Or should I say, 'Miss Patrick'?" I giggle slightly, but I look behind me to where Harriet is still sat on the stairs, and the sisters' facial expressions immediately fall.

"What the hell is SHE doing here?" Priya angrily asks, standing between myself and the shame-filled Harriet.

"I came to apologise to Laura," Harriet says. "And I apologise to you too, both of you, for what I said and did."

"It's going to take a lot more than an apology for me to forgive you," Priya sneers, making me actually feel sorry for Harriet as she gulps with nerves and fear.

"Well I forgive you," Suriya says, fearlessly approaching Harriet and giving the girl a quick hug. "I saw what your father was like, I know it was him talking and not 'really' you."

"Well, I'm going to live with my mum now," Harriet explains. "I won't be any more trouble for you, I promise." Just then, Megan and Nicole arrive, and both girls' jaws drop at the sight of their former friend on my stairs.

"What are YOU doing here?" Megan angrily asks Harriet.

"Megan, Nicole," Harriet says, "I'm sorry for the way I behaved over the last few months, I was horrible and a bully, and I hope that you'll forgive me."

"Really?" Megan asks sarcastically. "You expect us to forgive and forget just like that?"

"Megan, this can't have been easy for her," Nicole says. "And you saw her dad at parents' evening..."

"Well... Yeah, but-" Megan argues, but Nicole isn't finished.

"I forgive you," Nicole says, also giving Harriet a quick hug. "It'll take a little longer to forget, though."

"I understand," Harriet says, hanging her head in shame.

"Harriet?" Mrs. Cooper shouts from the living room. Dutifully, Harriet returns to the living room, followed by the rest of us.

"Are these your friends?" Harriet's mother asks, and the ginger-haired girl nods in response. "Is there something you want to say to all of them, too?"

"She's already apologised," Nicole speaks up.

"Good," Mrs. Cooper says. "Now if you'll excuse me, Harriet's got a lot of chores to do at home!" I can't help but wince at the sheer look of shame in Harriet's eyes as she leaves the house. No matter what she did, it took a lot of guts to apologise like she did- and as Suriya says, it wasn't 'really her' doing those things...

"Actually," I say, "Harriet, would you like to come swimming with us?"

"What?" Priya asks incredulously.

"Laura, what are you doing?" Megan asks me with clear concern in her eyes. Harriet looks expectantly at her mother, and I see in her eyes the same look of hope I'd briefly seen when I invited her to my twelfth birthday party- only this time, she doesn't have her father's voice in her ear to force her to push me away.

"Well... okay," Mrs. Cooper says, making Harriet smile happily- and I can tell she hasn't smiled that way in a very long time. "She doesn't have her cossie with her, though."

"You can borrow my school swimsuit if you want," I offer- an offer that Harriet eagerly accepts. Less than thirty minutes later, the six of us (along with my mum) are having fun in the packed public pool, swimming, playing and laughing, though I can tell not everyone is happy. Priya and Megan are still having a hard time trusting Harriet, and I can definitely sympathise with them. It's not like I NEED Harriet to be my friend... But I WANT her to be. And yet, there's the niggling little voice at the back of my head that constantly reminds me of all that Harriet did and said to me.

After we finish swimming, and I change back into my skirt and jumper (shielded by my mum so that no one sees my private parts), we head out into the pool's car park, where all the parents- including Harriet's mum- are waiting.

"Laura," Megan whispers to me as she gets in her dad's car, "why did you invite Harriet along?"

"Everyone deserves a second chance," I explain. "I really do believe that she's changed now that she lived with her mum full time."

"I'm not convinced," Megan sighs. "But you have more reason than anyone to hate her... If you can give her a second chance, so can I."

"Thanks," I say, giving Megan a quick hug (despite her long, wet hair) before she leaves. Nicole, Suriya and Priya leave shortly afterwards (Priya also expressing her concerns about Harriet, but agreeing to give her a second chance), leaving me and my mum alone with Harriet and hers.

"I trust my daughter didn't give Laura and her friends any trouble?" Mrs. Cooper asks as the same returns to Harriet's previously happy face.

"No, she was perfectly behaved," mum says.

"Good," Harriet's mum replies. "Something you want to say to Mrs. White, Harriet?"

"Thank you for letting me come swimming with you," Harriet meekly says, before she too leaves with her mum.

"Isn't this good," mum says as we get in our car. "You've got all your friends back with you, you're a proper 'sixsome' again, like the group your ballet instructor belongs to that you girls are always going on about."

"Yeah," I say half-heartedly.

"Hey, maybe I could have a word with Harriet's mum and see if she also wants to join your ballet class?" Mum suggests. "You girls will all have 'refer-a-friend' vouchers to spend next month, seems a waste not to use them..."

"There's a bit of a waiting list," I say, making mum frown.

"Laura... You do want Harriet to be your friend again, right?" Mum asks.

"Yes," I reply. "But... I dunno. She made it harder than anyone else for me to enjoy life as a girl... I'm not going to forget THAT in a hurry."

"Yes, but I heard what you said to Megan," mum says knowingly. "'Everyone deserves a second chance'. I mean, look what your brother did with his second chance, for all you know you and Harriet could end up being the best of friends."

"That'd be nice," I say. And it would be nice... Albeit unlikely. Inviting Harriet to the swimming party clearly irritated Priya and Megan... And I value their friendship a thousand times more than I value the friendship of someone who'd previously made my life a misery, even if she was forced to do so.

However, if I do end up not being long-term friends with Harriet, that's okay, as long as when she leaves, she leaves in peace. This past week has shown me that for every one person out there determined to make my life a misery, there are a hundred willing to back me up, as long as I know where to look for them. It's up to Harriet- and, for that matter, Ricky, my dad, and everyone else- what side they want to be on. But even if I don't have them on 'my side', as long as I have the people that matter, then I'll always be happy. No matter what anybody says, I am Laura Jade White, and I am here to stay.

“Mr. Henry, You can’t!” I yell at the young man opposite me as he brandishes his gun.

“This man betrayed my family, left us for dead,” the man says. “He deserves no better than to die like the dog he is.”

“But he’s my father!” I plead.

“Then you are the daughter of a traitor,” the young man coldly says, pulling the trigger. A loud ‘pop’ and a flash of light fills the room, and the man standing next to me falls to the floor, clutching his chest.

“No! Father!” I yell, spreading my long, elaborate dress beneath me as I kneel down beside the stricken man.

“Tell your mother…” The older man whispers in a weak voice. “Tell her… I love you both… Henrietta…” I cry into the man’s chest as he lets out a weak death rattle and his body goes limp in my arms. Almost immediately, the lights in the theatre lower and the audience let out a rapturous round of applause. Under the cover of darkness, ‘father’ and I both stand up and exit the stage as the stagehands swap around the scenery for the next act of the play.

“Wonderful work,” Mrs. Ingram says, clapping as enthusiastically as the audience. “You were great out there Laura, you too, Craig!”

“Thanks, Mrs. Ingram,” Craig says, taking off the wig and jacket that make up ‘father’s costume. The two of us, our work done for the evening, watch the rest of the play from the wings, applauding with the rest of the audience as it reaches its conclusion when Phil- the boy playing Mr. Henry- delivers a strong, flawless monologue, before his character is beheaded for the murder of ‘my father’.

“If he’d shot my ‘real’ father I’d probably have kissed him,” I giggle as Craig and I repair our hair and costumes for the curtain call.

“Well, he’s still got that pistol,” the 15 year old boy laughs, before taking my hand and leading me out onto the stage, where- with my other hand linked with Phil’s- I and the rest of the cast take our bows before a standing ovation. I grin as I see my mother and grandmother in the audience, applauding harder than anyone.

After Mrs. Ingram makes a quick speech to the audience, thanking them all for attending, I head backstage to change out of my hot, heavy dress. It being a school production, I of course have to change by myself, away from either the boy’s or girl’s changing rooms, but I do at least have Nicole and Harriet helping me out.

“Oh my god,” Nicole gushes. “You were So COOL out there!”

“You were!” Harriet squeaks as she hands me my plain, knee-length blue dress that I pull over my head and smooth over my black tights. “I’d probably have frozen up out there…”

“No,” I say warmly. “You’re a great actress! And besides, once you’re in the costume, you forget all about who you used to be…” I sigh as I play with the hem of my dress, realising that what I said about acting applies just as much to my real life- the only difference being, of course, that I’m not ACTING at being a girl… I AM a girl. I smile a wicked smile as Harriet prepares to hang up the dress.

“Want to try it on?” I ask the ginger-haired girl, who giggles and gasps, before stripping out of her top and her jeans and- with mine and Nicole’s help- pulls on the voluminous gown, happily swishing it around her legs as I’d done hundreds of times in dress rehearsals, before reluctantly taking it off and changing back into her street clothes.

“My little megastar!” Mum greets me with a massive hug as I exit the disabled toilet in which I’d changed back into my dress. “You were so amazing out there!” Grandma also gives me a tight hug, which I accept a bit more, but my cheeks still burn with embarrassment as I hear Nicole and Harriet giggling good-naturedly behind my back.

“Watch out, Keira Knightley, there’s a new superstar actress in town!” Grandma chuckles. “Already got your Oscar acceptance speech written?”

“It’s just a school play…” I futilely whine as mum and Grandma hand me a small bouquet of flowers, which I cradle as they insist on taking what feels like a thousand photographs of me.

“Can I have your autograph?” Nicole giggles as she hands me a pen and a copy of the play’s programme. I giggles embarrassedly as I sign not only Nicole’s, but Harriet’s, mum’s and grandma’s programmes as well.

“Better get used to that, megastar!” Mum teases. The five of us start to head out of the theatre, when we’re interrupted by a call from behind us.

“Laura!” Phil’s familiar voice calls. “Hey, Laura!” I turn around and immediately grin goofily as Phil comes running up to me with a very familiar-looking older girl- his sister, perhaps- in tow.

“Hi Phil!” I say, my cheeks starting to redden as Nicole and Harriet’s giggling intensifies. “You were really, really good!”

“Thanks,” Phil says, blushing slightly. “Was, um, was that your first play?”

“Yeah,” I reply. “Um, was- was that yours?”

“Um, it was my second,” the dark-haired boy says, before his companion coughs expectantly. “Oh, um, sorry, um, this- this is my sister, Victoria…”

“Oh. My. God!” Nicole squeaks, immediately rushing forward and shaking the dark-haired girl’s hand. “I KNEW I recognised you! You- you’re Viks Brooks!”

“Hi, yes, yes, I am!” Victoria laughs tiredly.

“I can’t believe I’m shaking the hand of an Angel!” Nicole continues, her voice’s pitch creeping higher and higher.

“We study ballet with one of the Angels!” I laugh, but Nicole’s fanatical behaviour only intensifies.

“I know, I know, but this is so cool! I love you so much!” Nicole squeaks as Victoria looks more and more weary from the attention.

“Nicole!” Mum playfully reprimands, before herself shaking Victoria’s hand. “Hi, I’m Michelle White, Laura’s mum.”

“You’ve got a very talented daughter, Mrs. White,” Victoria says, making me blush even more as Nicole and Harriet giggle harder and harder. “I was planning on taking Phil out for dinner, to celebrate a job well done. You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like?”

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly…” Mum says, but Victoria only smiles even wider.

“I have several very large realty TV pay cheques burning a hole in my pocket,” Victoria says warmly. “I can more than afford one meal! Besides, it looks like Phil and Laura are hitting it off well…” I blush as the young woman teases me, making my friends- and family- giggle even more.

“Who am I to stand in the way of young love?” Mum laughs.

“Mum!” I say. “Stop embarrassing me!”

“Viks!” Phil hisses at the same time.

“Laura’s got a boyfriend…” Nicole teases in a sing-song voice as the seven of us head to dinner.

After a delicious, filling meal (that mum insisted on paying for part of) I find myself deep in conversation with Phil, whilst Nicole and Harriet listen intently to Victoria’s tales of her celebrity lifestyle.

“…And my parents don’t even know I was in the play at all,” Phil explains. “Hence why I’m here with Viks. My dad… He doesn’t really approve of anything that isn’t a 9-5 office job in the centre of the city.”

“How did he react when he found out his daughter was a reality TV star?” I giggle.

“He thinks it’s just a side job whilst Viks finishes her last year of uni,” Phil says. “My dad can be such an arsehole at times…”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I know the feeling…”

“Are- are you, um, not close to your dad?” Phil asks, sensing that he’s touching on a sensitive subject.

“Not really,” I say, nervously playing with my medium-length blonde hair. “He, um, doesn’t approve of me either…”

“Because of your acting?” Phil asks. “You also said you study ballet at Krystie’s school, I take it he doesn’t approve of that either?”

“I’m SURE he wouldn’t if he found out,” I laugh. “No, he, um…” I stammer as I try to finish my sentence. Over the last seven months, I’ve become so used to my ‘secret’ not actually being secret that I expected my reputation to precede me that I’d never have to reveal it to anyone… Especially not anyone as nice as Phil…

“Um,” I stutter. “You, um, you know the Angels, right?”

“One of them IS my sister,” Phil giggles.

“You, um, you know Jamie-Lee Burke?” I ask, and Phil nods. “Well, um, kinda that…”

“Oh my god,” Phil gasps, before a wide smile creeps over his face. “That’s so cool!”

“It’s not as cool as you think,” I sigh. “Especially not when you’re at school with people who disagree with you…” I quickly glance back at Harriet, who is now one of my best friends, but was for months one of my worst enemies.

“Yeah, but you know,” Phil stutters. “You and you’re friends, you- you’re like-“

“DON’T say ‘Little Angels’!” I say, making both myself and Phil giggle.

“No, but, um,” Phil stammers. “Do- do you have Facebook?”

“Yeah, yeah I do,” I say. “Can- can I add you when I get home?”

“Yeah, that’d be cool,” Phil says.

“Phil!” Victoria shouts, snapping the two of us back to attention. “Come on, you’ve got school tomorrow…”

“So have you three girls,” mum says firmly. I sigh and smile one last time at Phil as he leaves with his sister, whilst I pile onto the back seat of mum’s car with Nicole and Harriet.

“’Laura’s got a boyfriend’…” Nicole teases, making me cringe and Harriet giggle.

“I do not have a boyfriend!” I plead.

“Too right you don’t, you’re only twelve!” Grandma says.

“Boys are… Yucky, anyway,” Harriet laughs.

“Heh, you won’t be saying that in a few years’ time, young lady!” Grandma laughs- but I can’t help but remember that less than twelve months ago, anyone looking at me would’ve thought I’d grow up to have a girlfriend, and I happen to know for a fact that Harriet’s started puberty…

After dropping Nicole, Harriet and grandma at their respective homes, mum and I arrive home shortly after 9pm, and with the last term of the school year starting tomorrow, I head straight to bed (after secretly nibbling at one of my Easter Eggs, of course!).

The following morning, I wake up at 7:30am, and, as usual, wash, take my boy-blocker, eat breakfast and dress in my trusty white blouse, grey tights and pleated grey school skirt. The first time I put this uniform on, it was exciting, a first step into a new, unknown world… But now, it’s different. It’s normal, everyday… Sometimes it’s even boring to wear a skirt to school. However, I know I’d never be comfortable in anything else, a feeling that’s reinforced as I arrive at the school gate to be greeted by my five friends, who are all also dressed in white blouses, grey tights and grey skirts.

“Hi Laura!” Suriya squeaks. “Or should I say ‘superstar’?” I blush as the six of us head into school, my cheeks only getting redder as Nicole speaks up.

“I’m sure PHIL thinks she’s a superstar!” The brown-haired girl teases.

“Who’s ‘Phil’?” Priya asks with a sly grin. “Is he Laura’s boyfriend?”

“No,” I say.

“Yes,” Harriet and Nicole say at the same time as me, giggling loudly.

“He’s the guy who played Mr. Henry,” Nicole explains. “Goes to a school a couple of miles away. AND may or may not be the little brother of one Miss Victoria Brooks of ‘The Angels’ fame…”

“Oh my god, that’s so cool!” Priya squeaks, giving me a tight squeeze. “Are we going to see our little Laura popping up in the tabloids in a few months’ time then?”

“NO,” I say firmly. “We’re just friends…”

“For now…” Harriet giggles. With the pressure and nerves of the play out of the way, the school day passes quickly. As it’s the first day of the new term, we’re starting work on new topics, meaning that the workload (and, thankfully, the homework) is relatively light, so at lunch we’re all in good spirits as we eat our meals- all of us except one, anyway.

“Hey Megan,” I say to the frowning, bespectacled girl as Nicole entertains Priya, Suriya and Harriet with tales of her close encounter with an Angel. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Megan sighs, but I can immediately tell that she’s lying.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask, making Megan sigh again and lower her head.

“Just need to use the loo,” Megan says. I immediately recognise the hint and stand up at the same time as my friend.

“Laura, are you allowed to go into the girls’ toilets?” Priya asks.

“Oh, who’s going to notice?” I shrug, following Megan into the clean light orange room. Much to my relief, despite it being lunch, there are no other girls around who might report my ‘trespassing’.

“So,” I ask Megan, “what’s up?”

“You’re going to think I’m silly,” Megan moans as she washes her hands.

“Megan, you’re my oldest friend!” I giggle. “You know if something’s wrong, you can tell me, right?”

“I just… Feel like I don’t belong with you guys,” Megan sighs, making me frown with concern.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Well you’re this big actress now with a celebrity boyfriend,” Megan says, continuing before I have a chance to interrupt. “You spend most of your time hanging out with Nicole and Suriya at drama club, Priya’s not even in our year, and Harriet…”

“What about Harriet?” I ask.

“I don’t trust her,” Megan says in an ashamed voice. “I don’t know why you do.”

“She’s changed,” I say. “You saw what her dad was like, you’ve met her mum…”

“I just… I don’t know,” Megan sighs. “I just feel like you guys are leaving me out, that’s all.”

“You’re talking to ME about feeling left out?” I giggle. “Remember who you’re talking to?” I smile as Megan lets out a small giggle.

“Yeah, I guess…” Megan says.

“And if you feel left out,” I say, “then we’ll have to do more to make you feel like you’re part of the group!”

“Um, how, exactly?” Megan asks as I lead her back to the lunch table (checking first that no one noticed us exiting the toilets).

“We’ll think of something,” I say smugly as I sit down at the table, where Nicole is STILL going on about the Angels…

As I head to class with Nicole, Suriya and Harriet, I tell them about the conversation with Megan- and all three girls immediately agree that we need to do something to cheer her up.

“Why does she feel so left out?” Suriya asks. “Is it because she’s in a different class?”

“So’s your sister,” Nicole says. “Has she said anything about feeling left out?”

“Nothing to me,” Suriya says.

“I don’t mean anything nasty by this,” I say cautiously, “but why DOES Priya hang out with us when she’s in year 8?”

“Ugh,” Suriya sighs. “She… She had a hard time fitting in here last year.”

“You’re not the only Indian kids in school though,” Harriet points out.

“True,” Suriya says. “But Priya… She kinda had a hard time fitting in with the other kids in her year, attracted the attention of a few bullies… I think she was counting down the days until I started and she had someone to hang around with.” I look at Harriet as Suriya makes mention of her sister being bullied, and it’s clear from the ginger girl’s face that the words are having an impact on her.

“Was Megan picked on much at primary school?” Nicole asks me.

“Not really,” I say. “Me and her are the only girls from our ‘gang’ who came here, though, so that probably doesn’t help.”

“I can’t have helped either,” Harriet sighs. “When I picked on you… I used to pick on her as well.” I can immediately tell from Harriet’s eyes just how much shame she feels for her actions.

“That- that was your dad…” Suriya mumbles, clearly uncomfortable with Harriet’s ‘confession’.

“Subject change!” Nicole says. “Everyone ready for ballet tomorrow AND Thursday?”

“I can’t believe I got my mum to agree to let me go twice a week!” I giggle.

“Or I got my mum to agree to let me go at all!” Harriet laughs- but I can tell that her laugh is disguising how she really feels about having been our tormentor for the past few months. I can well understand where Megan’s coming from when she says she doesn’t trust Harriet. I’ve forgiven her, but I’ve not forgotten what she said and what she did, and I doubt I ever will. And if she’s been picking on Megan… As an only child, Megan’s always felt isolated, and seeing me, Nicole and Suriya hanging out with Harriet like we’ve always been friends can only rub it in further.

All throughout my final lesson of the day- English- I can’t help but worry about Megan, and when I leave school at the end of the day, I make a point of walking with her to her mum’s car.

“I can’t wait for it to be June so I don’t have to wear tights to school,” I giggle as I straighten my stretchy grey legwear.

“This time last year you’d have given anything to be able to wear tights to school!” Megan giggles.

“Very true!” I say. “Megan… Are you okay?” My insides start to sink as I see Megan gaze over at Harriet getting in her mum’s car.

“I’ll be okay,” Megan sighs. “See you tomorrow, Laura.” I sigh sadly as I get in my mum’s car, unconsciously smoothing my skirt underneath me as I sit down.

“Everything okay?” Mum asks as we head home.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Well… Megan’s kinda unhappy at the moment.”

“What’s up with her?” Mum asks with genuine concern.

“I dunno,” I reply. “I think she’s still a bit unhappy that we’ve let Harriet back into the group, she used to pick on Megan as much as she picked on me, and because she’s in a different form she feels we’re excluding her…”

“She still goes to ballet with you, doesn’t she?” Mum asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “But that’s like, only two hours a week.”

“Megan’s a bright girl,” Mum muses. “VERY bright.”

“She’s also very sensitive,” I sigh. “I want to do something, something special for Megan to show her how much she means to me, to all of us. She’s my oldest friend, I hardly saw her over Easter…”

“That’s because you were rehearsing for your play,” mum chuckles. “And it WAS her birthday last month, you can’t throw her a party every month now, can you?”

“I know,” I moan as we head home. I while away the evening doing my homework and chatting with all my friends on Facebook- all apart from Megan, that is, who doesn’t come online at any point.

The following day, after washing and dressing in my school uniform, I grin as I lay out my ballet uniform- including a brand new light blue leotard, as paid for by Harriet- on my chair, ready for tonight. It doesn’t take long before I’m stood at the school gates, being greeted by my five friends as we head into the vast building, our skirts lightly blowing around our legs in the gentle spring wind.

“Girls,” Nicole announces as we sit down at our usual form desk, “I’ve been thinking about what you said about Megan yesterday.”

“I have too,” Harriet says. “It’s my fault that she’s miserable… I can always hang out with someone else at lunch.”

“No, don’t do that!” Suriya pleads. “I like hanging out with ‘Good Harriet’!”

“Aww, thanks!” Harriet beams. “And don’t worry, ‘Evil Harriet’, like my ‘evil dad’, is gone for good!” The four of us all giggle as Mr. Sheldon arrives and gets the brief form period under way. As the day goes on, I can’t help but notice a grin start to grow on Harriet’s face, a knowing grin that undoubtedly says that she has an idea, a plan she refuses to share with the rest of us- at least, until lunch, when the four of us approach the table where Megan and Priya are already sat, eating their meal.

“Pray, Miss Cooper,” I say in my perfected ‘Miss Patrick’ voice. “Have you seen Miss Cartman anywhere? I do so miss when she’s not around…”

“Laura, what are you doing?” Megan asks, confused by my unusual behaviour.

“I believe Miss Cartman is taking lunch in the parlour,” Harriet replies in her equally theatrical voice.

“Miss Cooper, Miss White,” Nicole says, flouncing up to myself and Harriet. “Pray, who are we discussing? Is it Miss Cartman? Oh, I do miss her so…”

“Oh, stop it you guys!” Megan says, though the giggle in her voice tells me that in reality, she’s loving every second of our ‘performance’.

“Miss Malik!” I beam as Suriya flounces up to us. “Pray, have you seen Miss Cartman today at all?” Rolling her eyes, Megan stands up and address the four of us in the same overly-theatrical voice we’d been using.

“Miss White!” Megan exclaims. “Miss Wyatt, Miss Malik, Miss Cooper! What such a pleasant surprise to find you all in the parlour!” Before anyone can say another word, the five of us break down in fits of giggles, bringing our ‘performance’ to an end.

“You girls are so silly!” Priya laughs as we sit down.

“I’ll take that as a compliment!” Suriya says, playfully sticking her tongue out at her sister.

“It was meant as one,” Priya laughs.

“If that was meant to make me feel better,” Megan sighs, before giggling. “Yeah, it worked.” The entire table cheers and gives Megan a group hug, before we settle back down to eat our lunch. Almost as I finish eating, though, Megan once again calls me into the girls’ toilets with her.

“It’s clear,” Megan says as we sneak into the clean room. “Laura… I DO appreciate what you tried to do for me there. It’s just, um…” Much to my surprise, Megan then opens her school bag and produces a small, white package that is unmistakably a sanitary pad. My eyes go wide as Megan takes the small item into a toilet cubicle, emerging a minute later and- after straightening her skirt and her tights- disposing of the old one in one of the toilet’s bins.

“Oh,” I whisper as I follow Megan back to our lunch table. “Have you- have you, you know, for long?”

“Not long,” Megan whispers. “I’d- I’d prefer not to talk about it, and I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell the others, especially not Harriet…”

“Of course,” I say, smiling warmly as Megan giggles before sitting down.

“So Laura,” Nicole teases. “Have you heard anything from PHIL lately?”

“Yeah,” Megan giggles. “You’re the first of us to get a boyfriend, so spill!”

“I haven’t spoken to him since Monday,” I say, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Then get chatting!” Nicole says, before breaking into s sing-song voice. “’Laura’s got a boyfriend’…” I sigh as the rest of the table joins in teasing me- but even though the singing is attracting stares, I don’t mind it, not one bit- it just means that I’m one of the girls, just as I always dreamed of being.

I treasure the moments when I’m able to forget that I’ve ever been a boy, and those moments come more and more frequently when I’m at school, with my skirt draped over my crossed legs, just like my friends in my final lesson of the day. With my mind filled with thoughts of the work I’m doing, of hanging out with my friends, of my ballet lesson tonight- and yes, thoughts of Phil too- I’ve never felt more contented in myself, but my contentment comes crashing down when Mrs. Keller, my teacher, approached my desk with an urgent message.

“Laura,” Mrs. Keller says in a sombre voice. “You need to go to Mrs. Houghton’s office immediately. Pack your things and take your bag with you, please.”

“What’s wrong?” I ask, my brain immediately switching to panic mode. Was I spotted going into and out of the girls’ toilets with Megan? Has the school decided to stop letting me be a girl? Has someone made up a story to get me in trouble?

“I can’t say here,” Mrs. Keller says. “But you’re not in trouble.” Nodding, I pack my bag and say a quick goodbye to my friends.

My mind is a blur as I walk down the long corridor to the headteacher’s door, which I meekly knock on, my heart beating faster and faster as Mrs. Houghton takes her time before answering.

“Laura, hi,” Mrs. Houghton says in a soft, sympathetic voice. “Come in, please.” I slowly walk into the office and sit down in one of the soft leather chairs, unconsciously smoothing my skirt over my legs.

“I’ve had a phone call from your mother,” Mrs. Houghton explains. “It’s your grandmother… She was rushed to hospital this morning. I’m very sorry, Laura, your mum’s on her way to pick you up now.” My jaw drops and I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach as I’m told the news. With the exception of my mum, no one’s been more supportive of my ‘change’ than grandma... I can’t lose her now, just as she’s getting to know her granddaughter…

I give my mum- who’s obviously been crying- a big hug as I get in her car and she drives me straight to the hospital. We don’t exchange a word until we step onto the word where grandma is being treated, where we both breathe a sigh of relief when we see that the old woman is conscious and aware- albeit with a LOT of tubes sticking out of her.

“Oh, mum,” my mum whispers in a quivering voice as we sit down at grandma’s bedside.

“Hello Michelle,” grandma says in a weak, croaky voice. “Hi Laura! I hope… I hope they didn’t get you out of school…”

“Don’t try to talk too much,” mum says, making grandma let out a tired, annoyed grunt that makes me smile- despite her current state, she’s still the same old grandma.

“Are you Michelle White?” A man in a white coat- obviously a doctor- asks my mum.

“Yes,” mum says expectantly. “What’s happened to my mum?”

“’Your mum’ is laying right here and can talk for herself!” Grandma insists, though the weakness of her voice suggests otherwise.

“Please, Mrs. White, you need to rest,” the Doctor says to grandma, who simply grunts again.

“Mrs. White collapsed whilst out shopping,” the doctor explains. “An ambulance was called, and we found that she’s suffered a mild cardiac incident. We’ve put her on a nutrient drip, though it will be a good few days before she’s strong enough to be discharged.”

“She had a heart attack?” Mum asks with clear panic in her voice.

“’Cardiac incident’!” Grandma snaps. “I haven’t had a heart attack!”

“Regardless, you need to rest,” the Doctor tells grandma, who nods her head. “You’re not going to get better constantly arguing with everyone!”

“Yes, yes,” grandma tiredly concedes. “Doesn’t mean my daughter and granddaughter can’t tell me about their days, though! Laura, was it your ballet class yesterday?”

“Actually it’s today,” I say, smiling as grandma’s usual character starts shining through the mass of tubes attached to her- it’s almost as if her strength has doubled merely by having mum and myself in the same room.

“And you’re making her miss it to come here?” Grandma admonishes mum.

“Well, um, I-“ Mum stammers.

“I don’t mind,” I say. “I can miss the odd one or two. This is more important.”

“Well you’re not missing it on my account!” Grandma states firmly. “Do a couple of steps for me now!” This time, it’s my turn to stammer.

“Oh- um, here, in the hospital, in front of everyone?” I say nervously.

“I’m not asking for the whole of Swan Lake, just a couple of steps!” Grandma says, a cheeky smile creeping across her thin, cracked lips. Shaking nervously, I stand up and take off my school blazer, before raising my arms above my head and stretching my legs into a perfect fifth position. I do a couple of steps, making grandma weakly clap her hands with delight. Relieved, I take this as my cue to sit back down.

“Very good!” Grandma says warmly. “You are a talented ballerina!” I blush slightly as grandma compliments me and open my mouth to talk, before I’m interrupted by a loud, rude voice from behind.

“Why is that BOY wearing a skirt?” An old woman in a bed opposite grandma’s shouts, attracting the attention of everyone on the ward. I look at my mum, whose eyes have gone wide, but neither of us know how to respond.

“You! Boy! Answer me!” The old woman persists, her voice getting angrier and angrier. “Why are you wearing a skirt?” I turn round to look at the shouting woman, only for her eyes to instantly lock with mine.

“Yes! You!” The old woman snaps. “Why are you wearing a skirt?”

“I- I’m a girl,” I meekly reply, withering under the fierce old woman’s gaze.

“Don’t be stupid, you’re obviously a boy!” The old woman spits. “Now go and change into some trousers! Go on, change! Now!” I shudder under the verbal barrage from the old woman and look to grandma for support, but much to my dismay, she’s fallen asleep- most likely due to the drugs she’s being pumped full of.

“We should go,” mum says.

“That’s right!” The old woman snaps. “Take the BOY out of here until he learns how to dress properly!” Tears well in my eyes as we walk back through the hospital, and I finally break down once I get back in the car, prompting mum to give me a big hug.

“Come on, let it out,” mum advises.

“Why do people have to be so nasty?” I sob. “What’s it got to do with that old bat what I wear?”

“Some people just think they’re more important than they actually are,” mum sighs. “You know I’ll always love you and be on your side, so will your grandma.”

“For as long as she’s alive,” I whimper, making mum hug me tighter and shed a couple of tears herself.

Even though we arrive back at home with just enough time for me to change for ballet, I opt not to go- my heart really isn’t in it, what with grandma being in hospital and my latest encounter with the bigots of Great Britain. After doing what little homework I can manage, I climb into bed and quickly fall into a dreamless sleep.

The following morning I wake up and pull on my school uniform as usual, but as my skirt swishes around my tights-covered legs, I don’t feel the usual sense of excitement I get at the start of a school day, instead I feel very, very self-conscious. Even as I’m greeted by my identically-dressed friends at the school gate, I feel out of place. Consciously, I know that I blend in with the other girls, easily disappearing into the crowd, but subconsciously, it’s harder than ever to forget that underneath my skirt, underneath my tights and girls’ panties… I’m very, very different to them.

“We missed you at ballet last night,” Nicole says as we sit down in form. “Is everything okay?”

“My grandma’s in hospital,” I moan.

“Oh no,” Suriya says, giving me a quick hug. “Is- is she okay?”

“She has a problem with her heart,” I say. “The doctors say she’ll be okay, but…”

“Then believe the doctors!” Nicole says.

“Are you and your grandma close?” Harriet asks cautiously.

“She’s the only person other than my mum who’s supported my change,” I sigh.

“Excuse me?” Nicole says, pointing at herself, Harriet and Suriya. “Not the ONLY person by a long way!” I giggle happily as Mr. Sheldon arrives to start the lesson, and as the day progresses, my friends go out of their way to make me feel better, just as we’d done for Megan yesterday. My five friends even dance an impromptu ballet routine at lunch- which I of course get roped into joining! What makes me smile most isn’t the dancing, though, but the fact that all five of my friends are getting on like they’d be friends their whole lives, with none of the tension that usually exists between Megan, Priya and Harriet threatening to ruin the moment.

By the time the bell rings to signal the end of the school day, my smile is back on my face… Though I still feel self-conscious as I climb into my mum’s car.

“Are we going to see grandma before or after dinner?” I ask, silently dreading another confrontation with the old woman who’d tormented me yesterday.

“We’re not going today,” mum says. “Your grandmother said- quite specifically- that you’re not to miss any more ballet lessons, and also said- and I quote- ‘you’re to change into your leotard the second you finish eating’. I told her you wouldn’t need much persuading- am I right?”

“Yep!” I say with a happy smile. “Is she feeling better, then?”

“Yes,” mum says in a relieved voice. “She says she feels stronger every hour, and the doctors are taking her off her drip tomorrow.”

“Thank god,” I sigh.

“Though…” Mum says. “She feels really, really bad about that old woman who said those nasty things about you yesterday.”

“Why should she feel bad? She’s not the one who said them,” I say.

“That’s what I told her,” mum says. “But still, she feels she could’ve done more to stick up for you…”

“She’s ill,” I say. “She should concentrate on getting better first.”

“Have you ever tried arguing with your grandma?” Mum asks, making us both giggle happily as we drive home. As ordered, the second I finish my dinner I head upstairs and change into my ballet uniform, which had lain untouched since I left it out yesterday morning. As I stretch the snug blue leotard over my body, I feel more self-conscious than ever about my undeniably male body, but when I look in the mirror, all I see is a pre-teen girl, the same as all the other girls who I’ll see at class this evening.

Once I arrive at class, I’m immediately greeted by my teacher, who has a concerned look on her face.

“Hi Laura,” Miss Fullerton says. “I noticed you weren’t at class yesterday, your friends have told me that your grandmother’s unwell, is that right?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “She was rushed into hospital yesterday after a mild heart attack.”

“Oh no,” my teacher says with genuine concern. “Is she going to be okay? I’ll totally understand if you’d rather be there than here.”

“No, she’s recovering,” I say. “She actually insisted that I come to class tonight and threatened me with a telling-off if I didn’t!” I giggle as Miss Fullerton throws her head back and lets out a long, loud laugh at my tale.

“Your gran sounds awesome!” Miss Fullerton giggles. “Come on, let’s get into class, you’ve got a bit of catching up to do!” I smile and nod as I follow my teacher into the studio and take my place at the barre alongside my friends, all of whom greet me as ‘Laura the girl’- as do the other girls in the class. Not ‘Laura the girl who used to be a boy’, or ‘Laura the girl who is really a boy’, just ‘Laura the girl’. Miss Fullerton’s right- my grandmother IS awesome, but so are all my friends.

When I arrive home I’m tired from the evening’s dancing, too tired to even change, but I find enough time to switch on my tablet computer, and I smile as I see a message I’d been waiting for- ‘Phil Brooks accepted your friend request’- and he’s already sent me a few messages too!

‘Hi Laura,’ the first message reads, making me smile a goofy grin.

‘Hi Phil,’ I reply. ‘How’s you?’

‘Good, thanks,’ Phil replies. ‘Hey, um, do you watch Jeremy Kyle?’ I frown at the unusual question- the answer to which should be obvious.

‘Umm, no,’ I reply. ‘9:25 I’m in school, same as you!’

‘Yeah, I know,’ Phil types. ‘But, um, there was a guest on today who I think you might be interested in. Do you have iPlayer?’

‘Yeah,’ I reply. ‘What’s so interesting about this guest?’

‘You’ll see,’ Phil types.

After chatting with Phil a little more, he finally insists that I watch the show, so I close down my Facebook app and open up the ITV catch-up app, loading the episode from this morning.

“Welcome to the show,” the presenter says after the opening credits have finished rolling. “My first guest today says her grandparents have disowned her because- get this- they refuse to accept that she’s transgendered and insist that she goes back to living as a boy! Nikki’s on the Jeremy Kyle Show!” I watch as the terrified looking girl walks out onto the stage and coolly sits down in the fancy leather chair. In her tight top- showing off obvious breasts- and black skirt, there's no way I would've thought that she was ever a boy. No doubt that old woman at the hospital would've, though...

After Jeremy chats with Nikki for a bit, her father comes on stage and, much to my surprise, gives Nikki a loving, fatherly hug before sitting down next to her. When I look at the pride in Chris's (Nikki's father's) eyes, I can't help but blink back tears when I remember the look in the eyes of my own father the last time he looked upon me, and the tears start to flow as Chris starts talking about how proud he is of his daughter. When Steven- Nikki's grandfather- walks out on stage, I actually feel sorry for the man as he encounters a shower of boos, but when he turns his back on his child and grandchild, I feel nothing but anger for him.

“HE is not a girl,” the old man yells. “HE never will be, and HE needs to stop prancing around like a-" The end of Steven's sentence is censored by a loud beep, but whatever it was, it can't have been complimentary, and to say that about his own granddaughter- a defenseless seventeen year old girl...

Even after Steven is given the chance to put his side across- that all he wants is his grandson back- I feel no sympathy for him, but I do feel blessed that I've received the support that I have from my own grandparent. Eventually, the three family members start to talk as the family that they are, and Steven even apologises to Nikki, but I can't help but feel that their story isn't headed for a happy ending.

After Nikki, her dad and her granddad leave the stage, I close down the episode as I don’t really need (or want!) to watch the rest of it. I feel sorry for the 17 year old girl, the way she was spoken to by her grandfather, but at the same time, the way her father unconditionally accepted her… I am envious, deeply envious that she’s so close to the man who should- and, in fairness, clearly does- support her the most. Blinking tears out of my eyes, I head downstairs and sit down next to mum on her sofa, giving her a big hug.

“Whoa!” Mum laughs, returning my hug. “What’s this for?”

“For always being there for me,” I say. “I know how lucky I am, to have you and grandma… Not all girls like me are as lucky.”

“What’s prompted this?” Mum asks, and I smile with embarrassment as I load up the segment from the Jeremy Kyle Show that I’d just watched.

“Poor girl,” mum says after I close the iPlayer app. “I hope you’ll have more sense than to ever air your dirty laundry on national TV! Still though, at least it tells you what Doctor Williamson’s told you all along: You. Are. Not. Alone.”

“Do you reckon Dr Williamson knows this Nikki girl? I think she said she was from London…” I muse.

“It’s still a thousand-to-one shot,” mum says. “Why, planning on writing her a fan letter?”

“I-“ I say, before giggling as I realise I have no answer to my mum’s question. “I dunno. I should do my homework…”

“Go on,” mum says, laughing as I skip back upstairs in my leotard. After homework, I reluctantly strip out of my ballet uniform and climb into bed, quickly falling into a deep sleep.

“Laura’s on the Jeremy Kyle Show!” The TV presenter announces, and I nervously walk out onto the stage, only to be bombarded with a shower of boos from the audience, all of whom are either old women looking at me with disapproval, or my father, shouting obscenities at me. I sit down in the leather chair and suddenly I feel very small, shrinking further into myself as the chair grows and threatens to consume me…

I wake with a yell and take several deep breaths to calm myself down, before laying back onto my sweat-stained sheets. I briefly fall asleep again as I’m woken up by my alarm clock shortly after 7:30. After breakfast & my boy-blocker, I pull on my school uniform for the final time this week, this time feeling a LOT more confident in my skin despite my nightmare’s best efforts.

“Hi Laura!” Nicole squeaks happily, greeting me at the school gates with a quick hug. “How’s your grandma doing?”

“Much better, thanks,” I say with a smile. “We’re going to visit her tonight…”

“You don’t sound too happy about that,” Suriya says with a confused giggle.

“Ugh,” I spit as we enter the form room. “It’s… She’s on a ward full of old women, and you know how they are, instantly able to realise there’s something ‘wrong’ with me…”

“There is nothing ‘wrong’ with you!” Nicole insists, giving me another quick hug.

“Try telling that to the old bags on grandma’s ward!” I snort.

“Bring us along when you see your grandmother and we will!” Harriet says. I giggle, but the look in her eyes tells me that she- along with Nicole and Suriya- are deadly serious about their offer.

“Umm,” I say. “That… That might get a little crowded…” The four of us descend into a fit of giggles that only stops when Mr. Sheldon gets the lesson underway. Even though it’s Friday and everyone is visibly winding down after a long week, I still put maximum effort into my work, and by lunchtime, I’m all but completely exhausted, and barely able to pay attention to Nicole’s detailed analysis of every article in the latest issue of Teen Globe magazine- which I’d read myself anyway. I briefly think about talking about yesterday’s Jeremy Kyle Show with the girls, but none of them are likely to have watched it- and I don’t want any reminders of last night’s nightmare- so I sit back and listen to Nicole as she moves on from Teen Globe and starts talking about her latest adventures on the school’s gymnastics team- making me envious as I’m reminded that no matter how good I might be at any sport (and I’m not bad at any of them), I’ll never be allowed to join any of the school’s teams.

After lunch and the final lesson of the day, I slump my weary body down in the passenger seat of mum’s car, chuckling as mum smiles at me.

“We’re going to head straight to see grandma, is that okay?” Mum says as we drive away.

“Okay,” I sigh. “I mean, obviously I want to see her, but I’m really tired, and…”

“…You don’t want to have to deal with any nasty people,” mum says. “I know, I really do… But I’ll be there, and grandma will be there too. You have NOTHING to worry about. And you definitely won’t have to change out of your skirt!”

“Believe it or not, my friends actually offered to come along to back me up,” I laugh. “Should’ve taken them up on their offer…”

“Your grandmother had a heart attack,” mum says with a chuckle. “Last thing she needs is six excitable pre-teen girls crowding around her!” I giggle as we drive into the centre of the city, and toward the hospital where grandma is being treated.

When I arrive on grandma’s ward, I smile widely when I see her sitting up in bed, freed of most of the tubes that had been sticking into her on Wednesday.

“Hi mum!” My mum says to grandma, who smiles widely when she sees the two of us.

“Michelle! Laura! What a lovely surprise!” Grandma beams. “You’d better not be missing any more school, young lady!”

“No, and I went to ballet last night too!” I say with a smug smile that makes grandma chuckle.

“Good!” Grandma says. “Show me a few steps!” I giggle and stand with my hands and feet in first position, but before I’m able to do any steps, the same woman who’d insulted me on Wednesday speaks up again.

“Why has that BOY been let back in wearing a skirt?” The old woman crows. “Get that CROSSDRESSER off this ward!” Mum and I both open our mouths to reply, but before either of us can say a word, grandma speaks up.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO MY BEAUTIFUL GRANDDAUGHTER LIKE THAT!” Grandma bellows, stunning the entire ward into silence. “My Laura is a wonderful, talented and kind young woman, and you owe her an apology!”

“No!” The old woman shouts with an evil laugh in her voice. “He’s a boy, just look at him! I won’t stay in a hospital that allows people like him in its doors!”

“Then you had better leave, hadn’t you?” Grandma says smugly.

“No!” The other old woman stubbornly shouts. “HE should leave!”

“Mrs. Walker,” a recently-summoned nurse says to the old woman. “You need to calm down, you’re upsetting the other patients.”

“HE’s upsetting me by prancing around in a skirt!” Mrs. Walker says, pointing a wrinkled finger straight at my face.

“No she isn’t,” the nurse says, and I can’t help but grin as the kind young woman doesn’t even entertain Mrs. Walker’s prejudices by referring to me as male. “You need to get some rest, you’re just going to make yourself worse if you keep exciting yourself like this.”

“HE’s going to make me worse!” Mrs. Walker insists, but her arguments are muffled as the nurse draws the curtain around her bed, cutting her off from the rest of the ward, who all chuckle as her arguments grow more and more faint.

“Now,” grandma says with a smug face having won the argument, “I believe you were going to do some dancing for me?” I smile as I extend my arms and delight the entire ward- with the exception of Mrs. Walker- with my dancing, despite it being riddled with errors thanks to my tiredness!

“Beautiful AND graceful,” grandma says as I sit back down and straighten my tights. “Laura, I know you don’t normally watch shows like this, but yesterday on the Jeremy Kyle Show…”

“We’ve already seen it,” mum says with a smile.

“I just want you to know,” grandma says, “that if your granddad was still alive, there’s no way he would’ve behaved like that disgraceful man did yesterday. I wouldn’t have let him!” I giggle as grandma segues into tales about her younger days before she and granddad were married, which entertain my mum and myself until we’re asked to leave an hour later by the same kind nurse who’d earlier isolated Mrs. Walker.

“Thank you for what you did,” I say to the dark-skinned woman as mum and I leave.

“She was disrupting the ward,” the nurse says. “All you were doing was sitting there.”

“Take good care of my grandma, okay?” I say, making the nurse laugh and nod.

After a light takeaway meal, we arrive back home, where I change from my school uniform into a comfortable (but slouchy) long-sleeved dress and finish off the last of my homework for the week, before getting to bed early as I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jeremy Kyle announces to a packed audience, “please welcome prima ballerina Laura White!” As the Jeremy Kyle Show studio melts into a huge theatre packed with a cheering audience, I dance onto stage in a beautiful pink tutu and shiny satin pointe shoes, performing a routine that leaves the audience in tears…

I wake with a smile on my face, not just because of the dream, but because it’s Saturday and I get to spend the whole of the day with my friends. I dress in a plain pink top, black denim skirt and translucent black tights before heading downstairs, where Mrs. Cooper picks me up a few minutes later.

“Hey Laura!” Nicole says, greeting me with a hug as I join her and Megan on the back seat of Mrs. Cooper’s car. “Did you hear? One of Miss Fullerton’s adult students was on the Jeremy Kyle Show on Thursday!”

“Really?” I ask. Is this Nikki they’re talking about? What a small world…

“Yeah,” Megan says. “Apparently, she was, you know, a, um…”

“A ‘girl like me’?” I ask. “I know, I saw, isn’t it cool? I didn’t realise she was a ballerina too…”

“ALL boys should be ballerinas!” Nicole giggles.

“Yeah, but what about me?” I ask. “I’m not a boy, I’m a GIRL!” The three of us giggle as we drive to Harriet’s house, where we meet up with Priya, Suriya and the ginger-haired girl herself for a day of dancing, listening to music and playing with clothes and make-up- the same thing I’ve done virtually every weekend since September, but I only enjoy it more and more every time I hang out with my friends like this. Even though my thoughts are preoccupied with my ailing grandmother, I’m satisfied that she’s recovering- recovering enough to tell me that under no circumstances should I interrupt my fun today to go and visit her!

As much as I treasure the support of my grandma, my mum and my friends, I know that there will always be people out there like my dad, like Mrs. Walker or Nikki’s granddad, people unable to overcome their prejudices to accept me for the girl I truly am inside. But I know now that people like that don’t matter. Their opinions aren’t important unless I choose them to be, and I’ve made the choice to ignore anyone who wants to drag me down or force me to be someone I don’t want to be. It doesn’t matter how old they are, how important they think they are or even if they’re related to me- it’s how I feel about myself that matters the most.

And right now, dressed in a cute skirt, wearing pink nail polish and a face full of make-up and dancing with my friends? I feel pretty, pretty good.

“Stop crying!” The middle-aged man barks as the electric clippers shear my head clean of the hair I’d been growing over the last twelve months. I gulp and blink my eyes, but as lock after lock of light blonde hair tumbles in front of my face, I can’t control my emotions. My life, just my hair, is tumbling down in front of me.

Once the haircut is complete, I look at myself in the mirror and I want to scream. Looking back at me is undoubtedly the face of a pre-teen boy. A pre-teen boy with a cute face, but a boy nonetheless.

“There,” dad says, placing a hand on my shoulder and smiling at my reflection. “There, isn’t that better? Say that you’re a boy.”

“No,” I whisper futilely.

“Say it!” Dad orders. “Now!”

“I am a boy,” I say, dying inside with every word I say.

“And you always will be,” dad growls in my ear as he pays for the haircut and shoves me onto the back seat of his car, locking the doors just as he did 24 hours earlier, when my nightmare began.

I should be enjoying the school holidays. It’s August, it’s blazing hot, the perfect weather for wearing light, floaty skirts with no tights underneath, but instead I’m wearing plain dark blue jeans and a boy’s button-up shirt- ‘what a boy should wear’ according to my father. 24 hours ago, though, I was wearing one of those floaty skirts, a cute black one with a pink floral pattern on it. I was in the supermarket with my mum, doing the weekly shopping, when I felt a strong arm grab me from behind. Before I could cry out, a gag was stuffed in my mouth, silencing me, and I was led out of the supermarket by the arm. Every time I tried to resist or remove my gag, my dad would tighten his grip on my arm, actually bringing tears to my eyes with the pain he was causing. 24 hours later, the bruises still haven’t faded.

In his car, I kicked and screamed, I begged to be let out, to go back to my mum. I even tried to break the window, but every time I tried to resist dad threatened to ‘thrash me to within an inch of my life’. We drove for hours, eventually arriving in Leeds, where my dad lives. Making sure that no one saw us, he dragged me out of his car and all but threw me into his house.

“I’ve got some proper clothes upstairs,” dad growled at me. “Go and change out of that women’s shit. Now!”

“Take me home to mum!” I bawled, my voice filled with fear, anger and confusion.

“Your mother doesn’t want you anymore,” dad snorted. “I’m taking care of you now, and you are going to be a boy!”

“I’m a girl!” I yelled, only to freeze in terror as dad pulled back his fist and threw a punch straight into the wall mere inches away from my head.

“LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO!” Dad yelled as he grabbed me and forced me to look at the hole he’d just created in the plaster. “NOW GET UPSTAIRS! NOW!” Meekly, I obeyed, crying and shaking as I removed my beautiful skirt and my comfortable underwear and changed into the boxer shorts, jeans and shirt dad had laid out for me. When I trudged downstairs to the living room, dad had a satisfied look on his face, though his facial expression soured when he saw that I’d been crying.

“Stop crying!” Dad yelled. “You’re not a fucking woman and you never will be!” I took several deep breaths and dried my eyes.

“I want to call mum,” I said in a small, terrified voice.

“I told you, she doesn’t want to raise you anymore,” dad growled. “I’m going to teach you how to be a man. You should be thanking me for this.” A pause filled the room as dad stared at me with angry eyes.

“Well?” Dad asked, incredulously. “Aren’t you going to thank me?”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Louder!” Dad ordered.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice quivering.

“Better,” dad said. “Now get some rest. First thing tomorrow we’re getting you a PROPER haircut, get rid of that stupid girl’s hair. Then we’ll get you enrolled in a school up here. This is your life from now on, LEON, I suggest you start liking it!”

I cried the following morning- this morning- as I woke up, hoping that the experience had been just a nightmare, but the sight of my jeans on the chair brought me crashing down to reality.

As I get out of dad’s car and meekly march into his home, my hair, my femininity and my entire life erased in a second, I feel like dying. I actually feel like I could take a gun right now and end my life.

“Stop looking so miserable,” dad spits. “This is for your own good.”

“I want to speak to mum,” I mumble meekly, making dad growl angrily and punch the wall again.

“EVERY ONE OF THOSE YOU CAUSE IS COMING OUT OF YOUR POCKET MONEY!” Dad yells, pointing at the hole that he’d just created. “Your mother doesn’t love you anymore! She never did, especially after you started pretending to be a fucking woman!” I choke back tears and nod, but I don’t believe him for a second. One thing he says is true, though- I never really was a girl, I was only pretending. As I look at myself in my bedroom mirror, all I see is a boy. Even after taking my ‘boy blockers’ for eight months, I’m still unmistakably male- and now, it looks like that’s all I’ll ever be.

…But that doesn’t mean I have to accept my fate. Whilst dad stays downstairs watching TV, I search my new bedroom for anything I can use to contact someone, anyone- mum, grandma, the police, even Ricky. I’ve watched TV shows and films where the hero- or, more commonly, heroine- is kidnapped, and it always scared me, but living through this… Is infinitely more terrifying. I open each drawer as carefully as possible, desperate not to disturb dad downstairs, but all I find are more and more boy’s clothes- no phone, no computer, no nothing. As I’m looking around my bedroom, the sight of a lock on the door- to which I obviously don’t have a key- sends shivers down my spine. I pace my room for what feels like ages, desperately trying to think of a way to get out of my predicament, before I’m interrupted by a call from downstairs.

“Leon!” dad yells. “Get down here!” With my head held low, I obey, shuffling downstairs as slowly as possible in an attempt to delay the inevitable. I shiver as I enter the living room to see dad staring at me, though the previous anger in his eyes has been replaced by a look of what could almost be described as love.

“What took you so long?” Dad snorts. “Football’s on, figure you’d want to watch it.”

“I don’t like football…” I meekly argue, but the look in dad’s eyes quickly sours, making me gulp and fear for my health.

“Don’t be stupid,” dad spits. “All boys like football! And you are a boy, aren’t you?” The threatening tone in dad’s voice makes me shudder before I answer.

“Yes,” I say, feeling more and more nauseated. “I am a boy.”

“…And?” Dad asks, gesturing toward the TV screen

“…And I like football,” I say, barely keeping myself from collapsing on the floor.

“Good lad,” dad says with obvious pride. “What’s your favourite team?”

“I- I dunno,” I say, stammering as I’m put on the spot.

“Every boy knows who their favourite team is,” dad scoffs. “So who’s yours?”

“Umm…” I stammer, trying to think of any football team. “Chelsea?”

“Chelsea!?” Dad shouts angrily. “You’re a Leeds supporter, just like your old man! Only women and poofs support Chelsea!”

“…I support Leeds,” I whisper.

“Damn right you do,” dad says, gesturing to the sofa opposite the TV, which I dutifully park myself. We spend the rest of the afternoon and evening watching various different football matches, and as much as it pains me to admit it, by the end of the day, I was almost enjoying it, if only because dad’s attention was focussed on the games rather than me. I go to bed shortly before 9pm, changing into a loose pair of shorts and a plain white t-shirt and wishing every second that I was wearing my pretty blue nightdress, that I have no doubt is still laid out on my bed at home- my REAL home.

As I huddle under the thin bed sheets, I try not to cry myself as I feel my stubble-short hair rub against the soft cotton of the pillowcase. Two days ago, I was in bed wearing a nightie, my near shoulder-length hair bunched underneath me… I was in heaven, and now I’m in hell. And just to rub it in further, before I fall asleep, the devil himself comes in to check on me.

“I AM doing this all for your own good, Leon,” dad says. “I DO love you, and I only want what’s best for you.”

“I know,” I say quietly as dad snaps off my bedroom light. I close my eyes and quickly try to fall asleep, but the sheer wrongness of my situation- and my underlying terror- prevents me from getting any rest. After hours of tossing and turning, I stare over at my bedside clock- which reads 1:21am- and a plan begins to form in my mind. Earlier, I’d seen dad use a mobile phone to call a betting line- it must be in the house somewhere. I quietly slide of my bed and pad downstairs in the darkness, trembling with every step I take. Much to my dismay, when I reach the living room, the phone is nowhere to be found. A quick search of the kitchen yields no luck either. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves as I return back up the stairs, freezing in terror every time a step creaks under my feet. I eventually reach the door to my bedroom, ready to admit defeat, when I notice that the door to dad’s bedroom is slightly ajar. I pause briefly to decide whether or not I’m brave enough to sneak into his room whilst the man’s asleep, before taking a deep breath and slowly open his door further. When dad doesn’t wake up, I glance around the room and quickly spot the phone on his bedside table.

I drop my knees and slowly crawl across the floor toward the phone, my breathing and my heart getting faster and faster as I near the key to my freedom. I lay a finger on the phone and smile triumphantly, when all of a sudden, dad’s light snaps on and I find myself staring straight into the furious face of the older man, who immediately realises what I was planning.

“You ungrateful little shit,” dad growls, snatching the phone away from me. In one swift motion, dad slams the phone down on my hand, making me cry out in pain.

“If this is broken, you’re paying for it,” dad says, getting out of bed and squeezing my injured hand tight as he literally drags me back to my bedroom.

“AND STAY IN THERE, YOU LITTLE BASTARD!” Dad yells as I fall heavily to the floor, tears freely flowing from my eyes. Dad slams the door, and before I can even move, I hear the door lock behind the angry old man. Still crying, I crawl into bed, cradling my hand and rocking back and forth as I cry myself into a deep sleep…

“Hey Laura!” Nicole greets me with a hug as I arrive at the school gate, my knee-length pleated skirt blowing in the wind.

“Hey Laura!” Megan, Harriet, Priya and Suriya all say, greeting me with individual hugs. Before I can reply, however, my five friends all walk off, leaving me on my own in my school uniform, my skirt having been replaced by a pair of itchy trousers that slowly creep up my torso to around my throat, squeezing the life out of me…

I wake up with a start and for a second I’m confused, wondering why I’m in an unfamiliar room, when all of a sudden the horror of my situation comes flooding back to me and I silently cry into my pillow, only drying my eyes when I hear my bedroom door unlock and my dad poke his head around the door.

“I trust there won’t be any repeat of what happened last night,” dad says with a stoic voice. “Get up and get dressed, we’re going shopping for your new school uniform today.” I nod and silently slide out of bed, dressing in the jeans and shirt that dad’s laid out for me.

After a breakfast of bacon and eggs that leaves me feeling sick, but dad insists I need to eat as ‘boys need food and energy to grow big and strong’, we head into the centre of Leeds and to the vast Uniform Direct shop. The last time I went into a shop like this last August, I was giddy with excitement as mum filled her basket with skirts, blouses, loads of pairs of grey tights and my red one-piece school swimsuit. Walking round the shop with dad today, I feel sick.

“Do you like these football boots?” dad asks, showing me a pair of studded boots that I try to feign interest in.

“They’re okay,” I mumble, prompting dad to put them in the basket along with two pairs of grey trousers, three white shirts, a blazer- a BOY’s blazer- a boy’s PE kit (including, much to my horror, a rugby shirt) and five pairs of black socks. Dad pays for all the clothes- which come to well over £100- and I feign gratitude, but inside, I know I would literally rather die than ever pull on a rugby shirt and football boots. As we leave the shop, I longingly gaze at the rack after rack of gymnastics leotards, trying desperately to remember the feeling of my own ballet leotard as I stretched it over my body, but a sharp tug on my still-hurting hand snaps me out of my daydream and back to the nightmarish reality I inhabit.

As we walk back to dad’s car I slowly start to resign myself to my fate. I am a boy- and that is what I’ll always be for the foreseeable future. And yet, every time I walk past a girl wearing the same type of light, floaty skirt I wore two days ago, I feel a twinge of pain. It should be me in that skirt. It WAS me in that skirt. It would be me in that skirt… But it can’t be, not anymore.

After arriving ‘home’ and putting my new school uniform away, dad turns on the TV, leaving it on a sports channel showing motorcycle racing. When dad leaves the room, I change the channel to the BBC1 channel for London, hoping to catch the end of the local news bulletin in the vain hope that there’s something about me on it, but all I get is the end credits. I silently weep as it suddenly dawns on me that I’ll never see anyone I love ever again. My mum, my grandma, my friends, even my brother… And Phil. They’re all gone, gone forever. I dry my eyes as dad returns to the lounge and changes the channel back to the motorbike racing.

“Why did you change the channel?” Dad asks accusingly.

“I, um, I wanted to watch the news…” I feebly reply, unable even to lie to the domineering man.

“You’re not going to be on it, you know,” dad says threateningly. “You weren’t kidnapped. Your mum doesn’t love you anymore and sent you to live with me.”

“Then why did you grab me and gag me?” I ask, making dad’s face flush with anger.

“Because I knew you’d be an ungrateful little shit!” Dad snaps, before turning his attention back to the television.

As I settle down for my third night behind my locked bedroom door it’s all I can do not to curl up into a ball and die. If I had the option, I would gladly fall asleep and never wake up, but I know that no matter how hard I try to hold my breath, or wrap my t-shirt around my face to try to suffocate myself, I will wake up tomorrow morning and my hell will continue. With no other option, I clasp my hands and close my eyes.

“God,” I pray. “I know I’ve never really believed in you before, but right now I’m in a lot of trouble. I’m in a lot of trouble, and I need a miracle, something, anything, please.” I pause, listening only to the sound of silence, before clasping my pillow over my face and screaming long and loud until my throat is raw…

I wake up the following morning and dress in my jeans and shirt, before heading downstairs for another bacon and eggs breakfast that leaves me feeling sicker than ever. I look down at my stomach and I can almost see my previous slender waist expanding, inch by inch…

“What do you want to do today, Leon?” Dad asks. “And don’t say ANYTHING about your mum or your grandma!” I pause, tears filling my eyes as I'm reminded about the two women I may never see again.

"Tell you what," dad says in a kind voice that I know is hiding his inner rage, "how about I take you to McDonalds for lunch so we can catch up? You know, as proper father and son?" Ordinarily, a trip to McDonalds would be a perfect treat, but after a fattening breakfast... And with dad... It just makes me feel even sicker.

"That sounds good," I whisper, barely holding back a retch as dad chuckles happily.

Just after noon, the two of us leave his house and get in his car to head into the city centre. I briefly consider running, but I know it'd do no good- he's stronger than me and faster than me, and where would I run to? We're in the middle of an estate in a huge city where every street looks the same, and I don't have any idea where I'd run to... The only place I could run to to accomplish anything is the middle of the street, and there are no cars coming in either direction...

As I pick away at my Big Mac, I feel more and more sick. I would give anything, ANYTHING for my prayer to be answered right now. I don't believe for one second that mum and grandma aren't out looking for me, but Leeds is a big place, with over three-quarters of a million people... A father and his son blend into the crowd, even if our faces have been circulated to police.

"Come on," dad urges as he wolfs down his own burger. "Get that down you, I paid £4.39 for that!" I meekly obey and cram the burger down my throat, feeling more and more sick with every bite.

"I have to use the toilet," I announce after finishing my meal. Dad simply rolls his eyes and grabs my arm, guiding me to the men's toilet, which I shudder as I enter. Unlike the public women's toilets I've used, this toilet- whilst clean- has an air about it that feels corrupt, like I shouldn't be here, and when dad directs me to one of the urinals, it's all I can do not to break down in tears.

"I, um, I-" I say, desperate not to use the urinal. I haven't peed whilst standing up in over a year, and I have no intention of starting now. It may seem silly, but if I'd used that urinal... I'd have been giving up.

"You need a shit?" Dad asks, and I nod in response. "Go and pick a cubicle, then." Still shivering from being in the 'wrong' toilet, I pick the cubicle furthest away from the exit, praying for there to be a window, or a cupboard, or anything, but all there is in there is a porcelain basin. Unable to control myself any longer, I silently retch, vomiting my lunch into the bowl. Once it's all out of me, I allow myself a quick grin- my first genuine smile since my ordeal began- before wiping my mouth and flushing the chain. Not keeping my lunch down is only a small victory against dad, but it IS a victory nonetheless.

"Feel better?" Dad asks after I wash my hands.

"Yeah," I say, feeling internally smug about my 'victory'.

"Good," dad says. "Decided what you want to do tonight yet?" I sigh sadly as dad asks me the question to which there will inevitably be only one right answer- sitting on the TV watching sport. Tonight I SHOULD be pulling on a pair of pink tights, a pale blue leotard and dancing ballet with my friends... But that'll never happen again.

"I- I don't mind," I say, my will finally breaking. Dad's triumphant chuckle finally smashes what little hope I had left. No one is coming to rescue me, that's plainly obvious. Before long, dad will have moved me out of Leeds and somewhere more remote- possibly even to another country- and the only options I will have for my life are 'boy' or 'death'. And right now, I know exactly which one of those I'd prefer.

As we walk back through the crowded restaurant, I stare at the busy street outside. Cars are rushing past at 30mph. It'd be no trouble, no trouble at all to simply run out in front of one of them, bring my nightmare to an end...

As we head out onto the street, however, I see a sight that restores my faith. There, in a public phone booth, is the unmistakable sight of my brother. He's wearing plain clothes- jeans and a t-shirt, just like me- rather than his military fatigues, but his face, particularly his profile, can only belong to him. I briefly consider calling out to him, knowing that in a physical fight between him and dad, Ricky would win every time, but there's still the chance dad could get away, take me abroad...

"Come on, let's go home," dad says, dragging me away from my potential saviour. I briefly scan the street behind Ricky for anything I can use to get me closer to him...

"Newsagent," I whisper to myself. "Um, dad?"

"What is it?" Dad asks, confused.

"Can I, um, can I get a football magazine? The season's just started, I want to catch up..." Dad looks over at the newsagent, following my gaze, and my heart stops for a second as I fear that he's spotted Ricky as well, but much to my relief, he simply smiles, thinking he's 'broken' me.

"Come on," dad chuckles, taking me to the newsagent. I have only one chance to attract Ricky's attention, and as we pass the phone box- which dad still hasn't realised contains his other son- I take a deep breath, and knock on the door, hoping that dad didn't realise my plan. He briefly looks confused by the noise, but on a busy main street such as the one we're walking down, odd noises are commonplace, so dad quickly dismisses it. However, I have no idea of knowing if my plan worked...

As we head back to dad's car, Ricky is nowhere in sight, and my heart once again sinks. Maybe he didn't hear me- he was on the phone, after all- maybe he didn't spot me in time. Maybe it wasn't even Ricky? All I know is that I'm heading home with a football magazine in hand- which I pretend to read after arriving home, but inside, all I want, more than anything else, is to see the front door fly open and Ricky to come in, laying out dad whilst taking me home...

"I'm ordering pizza for dinner," dad says, picking up the mobile phone I'd so nearly gained access to, and which left a still-visible bruise on my right hand. "What do you want on yours?"

"I don't mind," I say.

"Well, just pick something!" Dad demands.

"Ham," I say without thinking. It seems a shame to waste good food by throwing it back up into the toilet... But it’ll be another blow against my captor."

"One large ham pizza, one large pepperoni, one large side of wedges," dad says into his phone, before turning to me. "Hope that McDonalds hasn't spoiled your appetite!" If only he knew...

I immerse myself in the football in my magazine and on the television for the next few hours until our pizzas arrive. Dad throws me the 12 inch wide dish which I tuck into, predictably feeling sicker and sicker with every bite.

"Dammit, I ordered potato wedges as well," dad says when he sits down to discover his side missing. Another knock at the door makes the older man smile as I choke down slice after slice of the fatty food.

"That'll be them," dad says, opening the door, but his face soon falls when he sees who is at the door.

"Are you Robert White?" A thick Yorkshire accent- and most definitely not that of the pizza delivery man- asks.

"Who needs to know?" Dad asks, his voice suddenly filled with panic.

"West Yorkshire Police," the man says. "You're a hard man to track down, Mr. White. I'm sure you're aware that your daughter was abducted from her London home three days ago. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" With nothing to lose- and reinvigorated at being described as his 'daughter', I seize my opportunity, knowing that it might be my only one.

"Help!" I yell, making dad stare at me angrily. "Help, please!" Dad immediately bolts for the back door, but doesn't get two steps before the policeman is on top of him, cuffing his hands behind his back.

"Robert White, I am arresting you on the charge of child abduction," the policeman says triumphantly. "You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Now get your arse off the floor." I stare, dumbfounded, as dad is led into the police car outside and taken away. Just like that, in the blink of an eye, my ordeal is over...

A policewoman with a kind face enters the house and immediately comes over to where I'm sitting, snapping me out of my daze.

"Hi, are you Laura?" The kind woman asks in her own Yorkshire accent.

"Hi," I say, still in shock at the turn of events. "Hi, um, yes, I'm Laura. I AM Laura." I smile as I use the name I thought I'd never ever use again.

"My name's PC Karen Hodge, I'm here to take you home," the policewoman says, bringing tears to my eyes. "Do you want to finish your pizza first?"

"No way!" I say, closing the pizza box and making PC Hodge laugh.

"Come on," Karen giggles, taking my hand and leading me out to her own police car. At the station- where I'm told dad is being held, but he's nowhere to be seen- I'm led into a small, warm room, where I see the face of my saviour.

"Ricky!" I yell, breaking free of Karen's handhold and rushing forward to give my brother a long, tight hug. "I knew you'd come, I just knew it!"

"Your hair looks stupid," Ricky says, cautiously returning my hug. "It's much better long." I laugh as tears flow from my eyes.

"How did you know how to find me?" I ask.

"I knew Robert lived in Leeds," Ricky explains, deliberately avoiding any use of the words 'dad' or 'father'. "Mum called me the second you went missing, I immediately got on a train to Leeds. Monday and Tuesday I walked all round the city centre, today I was all but ready to give up when I heard you knocking on the door of that phone box. I saw you, followed you back to Robert's house, called the cops, here we are."

"You've been here three days?" I ask, my jaw dropping.

"Hey, I'm not going to let my little sister down now, am I?" Ricky says smugly. I give Ricky another tight hug as I once again cry uncontrollably. He may not have supported me at first, he may have been an arsehole, but right now... Everything is forgiven.

"Last train back to London is at 9:33," Ricky explains. "We should be able to make it in time."

"I'll call you both a taxi," PC Hodge says. "You may need to come back to Leeds to give statements, but right now the most important thing is to get you home." My entire body goes weak as my adrenaline drains and I realise that yes, I am going home. This time tomorrow, I'll be in my own clothes- Laura's clothes- sleeping in my own bed. Sure, my hair will still be short, but I grew it back last year, and I'll grow it back this year.

The train journey is long and tedious, and I'm actually asleep when the train pulls into King's Cross station, but Ricky nudges me awake as everyone starts to depart, and as I step out into the station concourse, my eyes fill with tears as I see my mum and my grandma standing there. Ricky lets my hand go and I immediately run over to mum, embracing her in the tightest hug I have ever given anyone.

"I love you," mum whispers into my ear. "I love you so much..." Grandma joins in the hug, and at the urging of the two women, Ricky does as well. We remain in the station for what feels like an age, before getting in grandma's car and driving home, where I immediately change out of- and dispose of- my nasty boy's clothes and underwear, and pull on my pale blue nightie, which was, as I'd predicted, laid out on my bed for me. However, even after I pull on the delicate nightdress, when I look in the mirror, I still only see a boy wearing girl's clothing. Despite all my efforts over the last year to integrate with my friends... I'm still not truly 'one of the girls'. Dad's right- I am just 'pretending' to be a woman.

"My beautiful girl," mum says, giving me a tight hug from behind that causes me to bristle slightly at the memory of how I was so cruelly ripped away from this life.

"But I'm not," I moan. "I'm not beautiful... And I'm not a girl..." Mum simply sighs and rests her head on my shoulder.

"You ARE beautiful, and you were a girl for the last twelve months," mum says. "You were happy as a girl, you were successful in school as a girl... Your hair will grow back, it did before."

"I know..." I sigh.

"You're just tired," mum says. "Your friends will all be coming over tomorrow, they're dying to see you... Just get some sleep, I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning."

"Okay," I say, climbing into bed. "Mum?"

"Yes, Laura?" Mum says.

"I do love you," I say through teary eyes. "I'm so glad I'm home..." With it being almost 2am, I almost immediately fall asleep.

"Leon!" Dad yells in the darkness. "Leon! Come here!"

"I- I don't know where you are..." I moan as I stumble around the featureless space.

"I'm right here!" Dad snaps angrily. "Come here! NOW!" I fall to the ground and start to spasm as dad's yells grow louder and louder...

I awake with a scream, and within seconds, mum is in my room, giving me a tight, comforting hug.

"It was just a nightmare," mum whispers. "It's over now, it's all over now..."

"What time is it?" I ask.

"Just gone 7am," mum says. "Why?"

"I should get up," I say meekly, swinging my legs out of bed.

"You- you've only had five hours," mum argues, but I'm already in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet for my morning pee. After washing, I look at the small vial of pills on the windowsill and sigh- my 'boy blockers', that I haven't taken in four days. If my experience has taught me anything, it's that I'll never 'truly' be a girl. As much as I may pretend, as much as others may join in the illusion, that's just what it is, an illusion. I can't live a lie... But the truth hurts even more.

I pop a pill out of the vial and play with it for a short while. Eventually, I shake my head and start to return it to the vial, when I catch sight of the latest copy of Teen Globe magazine sat in the rack beside the toilet. And it IS the latest copy- the one published on Tuesday, whilst I was still in Leeds. Mum must have bought it in the hope that I'd read it when I returned home. I sit back down on the toilet and open the magazine, smiling when I reach my favourite article- Nikki Thomas's monthly column.

'Just because your genetics, because your body says otherwise,' the column reads, 'it doesn't make you any less a girl. Even if you have short hair, or no hair, it's what's inside that matters. If you look in the mirror and don't know what you see, ask yourself this question- what do you WANT to see?' I put the magazine down and stand up, staring in the mirror at the face staring back at me. What I see is a pre-teen boy, wearing a girl's nightie. But when I close my eyes, what I see is a glamorous woman, maybe an actress or a ballerina, wearing a sweeping, long gown, her face immaculately made up, her neck long, her waist slender...

I open my mouth and pop the 'boy blocker' on my tongue, swallowing it in an instant. Just because I'm not a girl... It doesn't mean I CAN'T be. After making a mental note to send a 'thank you' email to Nikki for her advice, I head back to my bedroom where mum's still waiting and change out of my nightdress into a brand new pair of girl's panties, before pulling on a knee-length denim skirt and my cutest pink t-shirt. Mum actually has tears in her eyes as I apply a small amount of mascara and eyeliner, before finishing up with some clear lip-gloss. Sure, in the mirror all I see is a pre-teen boy wearing girl's clothing and make-up, but in my mind's eye... I see a GODDESS.

When I head downstairs I bristle slightly as I see grandma sat on the sofa, despite the older woman's warm smile.

"I know, I'm wearing too much make-up," I say, making grandma chuckle.

"You wear as much make-up as you want!" Grandma says, giving me a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're back... I hope they lock that evil man away and throw away the key!"

"Where's Ricky?" I ask.

"Gone back to his barracks," mum says. "He didn't want to wake you before he left... You owe him a lot, Laura."

"I know," I say. "I owe him my life..." Mum and grandma both give me big hugs as I say this and continue to hug me as we sit down on the sofa and the two women fill me in on what happened during my absence. It turns out there WAS a media report about my disappearance, with mum, grandma, all my friends, even some of my teachers (including my ballet teacher) giving interviews. I'm astonished when I watch some of the interviews on TV- heartbroken when I see mum and grandma bawling their eyes out following my disappearance, and surprised and sad to see my friends- even the normally tough Harriet- all crying as they're interviewed. If I lost any of these people- as I nearly lost grandma a few months ago- I'd be devastated, but to see them so emotional, and knowing that all that emotion is for me... It doesn't take long for me to cry myself.

A short while later, when my friends arrive, I launch myself into the group hug as fast as it approaches me. After a few comments about my hair- and how much I was missed during my absence- the six of us quickly fall back into our old routine of talking about music, dancing (apparently our dance teacher has a special surprise for my return, even though I've only missed one lesson) and the upcoming start of the school year and experimenting with various make-up styles. My friends all stay until it's time for our ballet class, eating lunch and dinner at my house (I don't eat much, my appetite having not fully recovered) and changing into their identical pink tights and blue leotards. I actually receive a round of applause from my friends as I descend the stairs in my own dancewear, which feels more comfortable than ever, snugly wrapped around my body.

"Laura!" Miss Fullerton gasps excitedly as I arrive at her class. "It's so good to see you back, I just want to give you a big hug!" Miss Fullerton looks expectantly at mum, who simply sighs and nods, prompting the tall, slender dance teacher to reach down and wrap me in her arms. "This place just wasn't the same without you..."

"I only missed one lesson," I giggle as I and my friends follow Miss Fullerton into the studio, where I'm greeted with yet another rapturous round of applause.

"It's good I had this made in time then, isn't it?" Miss Fullerton says, going into her storage closet and producing a beautiful baby pink tutu that she hands to me.

"Oh my god," Nicole coos as I inspect the delicate fabric. "It's so beautiful..."

"I think," Miss Fullerton explains, "for one night only, someone needs to be treated like the princess that she is."

"I'm hardly a princess with this hair, though..." I moan as I rub my buzz cut.

"Well, I also have wigs," Miss Fullerton says. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer this..." I gasp as the blonde woman produces a sparkling silver tiara from her costume box, which she places on my head. As I look in the studio's mirrors, my eyes see a boy dressed in a leotard, a pair of tights and a tiara, but my brain sees a truly beautiful princess. A princess who could possibly stand to lose a little weight, but a princess nonetheless, especially after I change into the tutu and dance a few steps for the delighted crowd of students and parents. I smile, and eventually laugh manically as I twirl around the floor. My nightmare is over. Dad is gone, Ricky has finally accepted me as his sister, and I am where I belong- among family and friends who love me for the girl I am.

Six weeks later, I find myself sat on a hard bench in a courtroom in Leeds. My hair is still short, but my legs are covered with black tights and a smart black skirt, my face is covered in a light layer of make-up and my nails are coated in clear polish.

"Mr. White," the judge says in his summing up. "What you did was not only criminal, but it was selfish and highly damaging. You thought nothing of your daughter's safety and welfare when you committed this heinous crime, and only thought of your own perceived shame at having a transgendered child. I have no hesitation in handing down the maximum possible sentence: you will go to prison for seven years." I look over at my father as he hangs his head at the news of his fate, but I don't feel the slightest shred of sympathy for him. He chose to do what he did, and must face the consequences, severe as they may be.

"It's over now," mum whispers to me as dad is led away in handcuffs. "Where do you want to go for dinner?"

"Anywhere BUT McDonalds," I say with a smile, making mum giggle and give me a quick hug.

“Happy birthday dear teenager…” Mum yells in my ear, startling me into awakeness as the sun streams through my bedroom window. “Happy birthday to you!”

“Mum!” I tiredly moan into my pillow. “What time is it?”

“8am,” mum says. “Which means that you’ve only been thirteen for 8 hours and already you’re acting like a stereotypical teenaged girl!” I chuckle as mum whips the covers off of my nightie-covered body and dumps a LOT of presents besides my hairless legs.

“Thanks,” I say, giving mum a quick hug as I look over my gifts. Though it’s not just the gifts I’m thankful for- I’m thankful to mum, to grandma, even to God for being given the opportunity to simply BE a stereotypical teenaged girl, after everything I’ve gone through over the last twelve months.

After taking my morning pee- and my trusty boy-blocker- I cart my presents downstairs, where I thank mum profusely after opening every single one. Everything in my present pile is either fashion or beauty related- I’ve got skirts, dresses, funky tights and accessories, even a pair of sparkly sandals with a very high- almost 3 inch- heel. I’ve got loads of make-up, including several different shades of eye shadow, and several bottles of multi-coloured nail polish as well. Fashion books and ballet books and DVDs complete my pile, and after giving mum yet another hug, I sit back amongst my presents and breathe a long, contended sigh. I am in teenage girl heaven… And just a few short months ago I was in pre-teen boy hell.

After dad was sentenced to 7 years in prison for my kidnapping, it was like a weight was lifted from my shoulders, and I could finally live my life the way I always wanted without constantly having to watch my back. When I returned to school in September in my brand-new grey pleated skirt and stretchy grey tights, I was given a hero’s welcome- or rather, a heroine’s welcome. My ordeal gained me a great deal of fame… but I’d happily trade in all the fame in exchange for not going through what I did. I still have regular nightmares where I’m trapped in the darkness, with dad shouting and me, yelling at me, and no one coming to my rescue… And every time I hug anyone, even mum, I get an electric shock of tension down my spine as it always reminds me of the Sunday afternoon I was so cruelly ripped away from my life. The only person with whom I don’t get this feeling is grandma, and even with her I can’t hold onto a hug too long…

“Happy birthday teenager!” Grandma says as she arrives, greeting me with a big hug and an armful of presents that I eagerly open- more clothes, more make-up (that, of course, comes with a warning not to wear too much at once) and more dance and acting related stuff.

“Thank you so much for all my gifts, this is the best birthday ever!” I gush, giving mum and grandma yet more hugs after changing into a new black denim skirt, translucent black tights and a clingy long-sleeved top.

“I don’t know, last year’s takes some beating!” Mum jokes.

“What time are your friends getting here?” Grandma asks.

“In about an hour,” I say.

“I’ll be sure to be out of your hair by then,” grandma chuckles.

“Oh- no, you don’t have to go, really…” I say.

“Nonsense,” grandma insists. “No teenaged girl wants their old grandma hanging around the place when their friends are here. Besides, I’ll have you all to myself tomorrow, won’t I?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I say. I know I SHOULD want grandma to go so I can enjoy my time with my friends… But a very large part of me wishes that she could stay just a little while longer. Sure enough, when my friends arrive a short while later, grandma has left, and whilst that makes me sad, the infinite cheerfulness of my friends just about makes up for it.

“Happy birthday 13 year old Laura!” Nicole squeaks, giving me a tight hug and thrusting a birthday card into my hands. “If you’re wondering about your present… Priya and Suriya are bringing that!”

“Oh?” I ask, intrigued by the cryptic nature of Nicole’s message.

“Yeah, we sorta clubbed together to get you something big rather than get you a small gift each,” Nicole says. “I KNOW you’ll love it!”

“I already do!” I giggle happily as we sit down on the sofa and I start showing off my presents. Megan and Harriet arrive shortly afterwards, both greeting me with cards and hugs, before Priya and Suriya arrive just before 10:30, bringing a small, carefully-wrapped package with their cards and hugs.

“Happy birthday, fellow teenager!” Priya laughs as she hands me the package- which I can immediately tell contains an item of clothing.

“Thank you, ‘fellow teenager’!” I giggle as Suriya rolls her eyes- it can’t be easy being the youngest, especially as I’m fairly sure she’s the only one amongst us who hasn’t started puberty. Well, only one of the genetic girls, anyway…

“Unwrap it! Unwrap it!” Megan squeaks as I make a show of looking at the elaborate wrapping paper- which makes my friends all groan with frustration.

“Open it!” Harriet shouts, and I finally burst out in giggles and tear off the paper, gasping at the sight of what’s inside.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, holding the dress aloft. And it truly is- it’s clearly hand-made rather than store-bought, in a dusky pink fabric that seems to sparkle in the sunlight. It has thin straps, and when I hold it against my body, comes to a couple of inches below my knees.

“It’s probably a bit big for you now,” Priya explains, “but you’ll grow into it soon enough.” I smile, but inside, I’m unhappy- as beautiful as the dress is, it’s just a reminder that whilst my friends are ‘developing’ my only choices are ‘develop into a man’ or ‘don’t develop at all’. Despite being the second oldest of the girls, I’m the second shortest, and once Suriya (the current shortest) ‘develops’, I’ll be physically left behind.

“It’s so gorgeous,” I gush. “Thank you so much!”

“Try it on!” Megan laughs. “I want to see how it looks on you!” I giggle as I take the dress upstairs to change into it. Sure enough, one I’ve stepped into it, I can tell that even if the buttons on the back were fastened, it’d be too big- but not by much, and as I step downstairs, holding the dress to my chest, I’m greeted with hoots of approval from my friends.

“Gorgeous girly girl!” Nicole squeaks as I ‘model’ the dress.

“You are GORGEOUS,” Harriet concurs.

“Where did you even get this dress?” I ask. “I can’t see any tags in it…”

“From an online store,” Priya explains. “It’s actually the one run by Nikki Thomas’s girlfriend, figured you’d appreciate that!”

“I do, thank you all so much!” I lift my arms to allow Priya and Suriya to fasten the buttons on the back of the dress, and whilst it’s still a bit too big- especially around the chest- I feel like a prom queen as I swish around the room in the beautiful garment.

“Best birthday ever!” I squeak, giving all of my friends hugs as they coo over the dress. I keep the dress on through a light lunch, before changing back into my skirt and top out of fear of wrinkling the dress. Unlike last year’s ‘fashion party’, my party doesn’t have a specific ‘theme’ beyond ‘teenaged girl hanging out with her friends’, so the six of us while away the rest of the day watching some of my new ballet DVDs (taking the opportunity to recreate some of the steps, of course) and experimenting with my new make-up and nail polish.

I’ve just applied a liberal amount of eyeliner and glossy red lipstick to my face when a knock comes from our door. Worried that it might be grandma- who would undoubtedly tell me off for my make-up- I open the door, only to be surprised by who is actually on my doorstep.

“Ph-Phil?” I ask, my heart suddenly beating faster.

“Hi Laura,” Phil says nervously as his celebrity sister giggles in the background. “Hi, um…”

“Happy birthday?” Victoria says, barely suppressing her laughter.

“Oh, um, happy birthday,” Phil says, handing me a small gift. “You, um, you look nice…”

“Thanks,” I say nervously. “You shouldn’t have, really, I didn’t get you anything for your birthday last month…”

“Well, um,” Phil stutters.

“Phil’s trying to say that he has a rich older sister who doesn’t mind lending- LENDING- him some money for a small gift,” Victoria chuckles. “Go on, open it!” I smile as I tear open the gift to find a small brooch in the shape of a ballerina.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, my cheeks burning. “Thanks…”

“Thanks…” Phil repeats absent-mindedly, his own cheeks flushed. We pause for a brief second, before I lean in and give Phil a kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a very noticeable lipstick mark!

“Ooooooh!” I hear my five friends squeak behind me, making mine- and Phil’s- cheeks burn even more.

“Um, do you- do you want to come in?” I ask.

“No…” Phil says embarrassedly, making me frown disappointedly.

“What the idiot means,” Victoria giggles, “is that he’d love to come in, but we need to get home so can’t stay, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah,” Phil laughs nervously. “I’ll, um, I’ll see you later…”

“Yeah,” I giggle. “See you later, Phil…” I keep giggling until the front door is closed, at which point my friends all burst out into song.

“’Laura’s got a boyfriend…’” They all sing, furthering my embarrassment.

“No I DON’T,” I plead, though deep down… I kinda wish I did, and I genuinely wish that that boyfriend was Phil. He is funny, and friendly… and cute…

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Priya laughs. “You’re thirteen now, I mean, I’M thirteen and I have a boyfriend…”

“Who you’re never even so much as kissed!” Suriya teases her sister.

“I’m playing hard to get,” Priya says, sticking her tongue out at the giggling Suriya. The conversation quickly descends into a discussion about boys- Priya’s boyfriend, Phil- ‘my boyfriend- and all the various cute and popular boys in years 8 and 9 at our school. Even though grandma isn’t here, at 5pmthe six of us (plus mum) sit down for a traditional special birthday meal that leaves me feeling so bloated I can barely move. After my friends depart a little while later, I head upstairs to my room and open my make-up drawer, pulling out a tiny bottle of pills. A quick search on Google a while ago revealed that laxatives were a way to fend off the symptoms of bloating- and keep one’s weight down- so I’ve been taking the odd pill now and again, not after EVERY meal, but after every one that made me feel bloated or fat (maybe 2 or 3 times a week). Of course, the pill does have some ‘unpleasant side effects’, but they (literally) pass by the time I get into bed.

“Did you enjoy your birthday?” Mum asks once I’m snuggled under my warm sheets in my cute blue nightdress.

“Yeah,” I say with a smile. “Thank you, thank you so much for everything!”

“I saw you and Phil at the door,” mum says. “When he gave you that brooch, and you gave him that kiss…”

“…Yes?” I ask with fake innocence.

“I guess eventually I am going to have to give you ‘the talk’,” mum sighs. “God knows, when I was thirteen, I was obsessed with boys most of the time…”

“Too much information!” I giggle. “Besides, it’s not like we haven’t had sex education classes at school… I know ‘what goes where’. Even though I technically don’t have any ‘where’…”

“And even if you did, it’d be off-limits for AT LEAST another three years!” Mum snorts.

“Assuming I’ll be ALLOWED to have a girl’s puberty by then…” I sigh, making mum smile sadly.

“Talk about it with Doctor Williamson when you see her on Friday,” mum says, turning out my light. “Good night, Laura- my beautiful teenager!”

“Night,” I say with a smile, huddling under my sheets.

“Hey Laura!” Phil says, running up to me in a very handsome-looking shirt and jeans. “Are you ready?”

“Ready!” I say, smoothing my short party dress. I stare into Phil’s eyes and my heart begins to beat faster, my entire body begins to glow with a tense energy, and the two of us lean in to each other, our lips meeting…

I awake with a gasp and take several deep breaths to slow down my racing heart. That dream was VERY different from the ones I’m used to having…

I lay awake for about an hour before the sound of mum moving about downstairs prompts me to bed out of bed, have a quick wash and take my boy-blocker, before pulling on my new fuchsia-coloured dressing gown and slippers and padding downstairs.

“Morning teenager!” Mum teases as I sit at the breakfast table.

“Are you going to say that EVERY morning?” I sigh.

“No, I’ll probably stop once you’ve turned twenty,” mum giggles. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“I’m not really hungry, just juice will be fine,” I say as mum pours me a tall glass of orange and grapefruit juice. “What time’s grandma coming round?”

“Just after ten,” mum says. “Why, did you miss her yesterday?”

“A little,” I confess. “Wonder what she’d have thought about ‘the kiss’!” Mum and I both giggle as I finish my light breakfast and change into my outfit for the day, a knee-length purple dress over translucent dark tights.

“There’s my teenaged granddaughter!” Grandma says, opening the front door and giving me a big, welcome hug.

“Am I going to have seven whole years of that?” I giggle. “Novelty’s got to wear off eventually, surely…”

“Well it certainly wore off with your brother quickly enough,” grandma chuckles as she sits down on our sofa. “It was like the day he turned thirteen he was chasing after girls like a bloodhound, obsessing over guns and cars… Not much has changed!”

“Meanwhile,” mum teases, making me cringe. “Laura’s obsessing over make-up, clothes and dancing, and she’s certainly being chased by boys, one of whom may even have caught her…”

“Phil is not my boyfriend!” I plead, but mum and grandma’s chuckling tells me that my arguing is in vain.

“Pity, he looks like such a nice kid,” grandma teases.

“Laura certainly thinks so, with the lipstick mark she left on his cheek yesterday…” Mum teases, making me bury my (make-up free) face in a cushion and scream with embarrassment.

“Oh, don’t be so coy!” Grandma teases. “Nothing out of the ordinary about a teenage girl being obsessed with boys, you know!”

“Even though you wouldn’t KNOW I was a teenager to look at me,” I sigh.

“Oh yes, I know THAT angst as well,” grandma chuckles, and it’s mum’s turn to cringe this time. “How does it go again? ‘I must, I must, I must increase my bust!’”

“I developed eventually!” Mum sighs. “You will too, Laura.”

“Not without ‘exterior help’ I won’t,” I moan.

“By which I hope you mean those pills you’re taking, and NOT implants,” grandma says.

“Even THEY don’t contain oestrogen,” I moan. “They just stop my body from producing testosterone…”

“Well once you’re old enough, the doctor WILL prescribe oestrogen,” mum says.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “But by then all my friends will be women, and I’ll still be a girl…”

“Stop being in such a hurry to grow up!” Grandma scolds me. “You’ve only just become a teenager, stop being so desperate to become an adult!” Knowing when I’m told off, I nod- but I’m still very obviously unhappy.

“We’ll talk about it with Dr Williamson on Friday,” mum says. “Now, who wants nibbles?”

“That sounds lovely,” grandma says with a smile. “Laura?”

“Yeah,” I say, though out of all the parts of my body that I want to expand, my waistline is at the BOTTOM of the list…

However, I eat my big, filling lunch- and, thankfully, a light dinner, meaning I don’t have to take a laxative- I finish off the homework I didn’t do yesterday (obviously, I’m not going to work on my birthday) and head to bed, relaxed and ready for the week ahead.

The following morning, I have a smile on my face as I wash, eat a light breakfast, take my boy-blocker and pull on my trusty school uniform (even if my tights feel tighter than usual around my waist). When I arrive at the school gate, I am, as usual, greeted with hugs from my five friends, all of whom are still buzzing after my ‘party’, but I also get waves and ‘hi’s from most of the other kids at school, up to and including the 16 year olds. With all the publicity I got from my ordeal in August, everybody in school now knows my name, and it’s like everybody wants to be my friend. All my friends, of course, are loving being in the ‘popular clique’- especially Megan and Priya, who’ve never been what you’d call ‘popular’. Virtually every break or lunch, we get other kids (usually year sevens or other year eights, sometimes a few year nines) hanging around near our table as those our popularity will somehow ‘rub off’ on them.

This particular lunchtime, however, is different, as it’s the first day of the new school year for signing up for the various extra-curricular clubs. Obviously, Nicole, Harriet, Suriya and I sign back up for drama club- which puts a huge smile on the face of Mrs. Ingram- before Nicole, Suriya and I head straight for dance club. When Priya attempted to sign up for it last year, she complained that she felt left out as all the other girls there were experienced dancers who could dance en pointe, and whilst Nicole, Suriya and I aren’t there yet, we won’t feel left out if we all stick together. On the way, the three of us pass the sign-up area for the cheerleading team, where we stare at the ultra-slim, ultra-girly girls who'll soon be cheering on the school's sports teams. Sadly, the club is only open to girls in Year 10 or above... But two years from now, I'll be there.

Before we head to our next class, there’s just enough time to sign up for one more club, so with a devilish smile on my face, I lead Nicole and Suriya to the gym, where Mrs. Hall- our PE teacher- is holding sign-ups for gymnastics club.

“Laura,” Nicole cautions. “Are you sure? The club can be a little intense, and you know you wouldn’t be allowed on the school team…” I simply smile knowingly at Nicole’s uncharacteristic pessimism.

“It’s no more intense than what we do at ballet,” I say. “What, are you afraid of the competition?” Nicole giggles and rolls her eyes as I write my name on the sign-up list.

“No, it’s not THAT,” Nicole overdramatically sighs. “It’s just… I dunno, you’ve never done gymnastics before…”

“Neither have I,” Suriya says, also writing her name on the sign-up sheet. “I think someone’s maybe a little jealous?”

“Oh- shut up!” Nicole giggles, writing her name underneath mine and Suriya’s. “Okay, you’ll both be awesome, girly gymnasts!” The three of us all giggle as Mrs. Hall hands us our long-sleeved purple leotards that we’ll all be wearing at the club, and- for Nicole and Suriya, at least- in PE lessons where we do gymnastics.

“Mrs. Hall,” I say cautiously, “I- I will be allowed to wear the leotard in PE lessons, won’t I?” Mrs. Hall simply chuckles at my hesitation.

“Yes, Laura, you’re no different than any of the other girls, no matter what anyone says,” Mrs. Hall says, warming my heart. “In fact, as Nicole will tell you, you’re not only allowed to wear the leotard, but it’s mandatory that you wear it!” I grin as I carefully fold the bright garment and place it in my bag, where it stays for the rest of the day before I get in mum’s car for the drive home.

“Good day?” Mum asks.

“Yep,” I say with a giggle, unzipping my bag. “Afraid I might have a bit more uniform for you to wash each week…” Mum coos happily as I hold up my new leotard for her to see.

“Very pretty,” mum says. “When’s your first lesson?”

“Tomorrow,” I reply, putting away my leotard.

“Guess I’m going to be doing some ironing tonight,” mum sighs, and I giggle as we drive home. After finishing my homework I opt for an early night so I’m refreshed and ready for school- and my first gymnastics lesson- tomorrow, and when I get up on Tuesday morning, after pulling on my school uniform, I carefully pack my new leotard at the top of my bag. When I arrive at school (to be greeted by the usual round robin of hugs), I open up my bag to show the girls the leotard, only to giggle happily as Nicole and Suriya also open their bags to show off their new leotards.

“So cute!” Harriet squeaks happily, gently stroking the stretchy fabric of my leotard. I bristle slightly as Harriet reaches into my bag to pull the leotard out, mindful that the last time Harriet took a leotard out of my bag, it didn’t end well for anyone, but this time there’s no malice in her eyes- the only negative feeling she has is envy that she doesn’t have a similar leotard of her own.

However as I stretch the clingy leotard over my body ahead of my gymnastics lesson, I feel a tingle of sadness. In the eyes of many, like my friends and my teachers, what Mrs. Hall is true- I’m no different from any of the other girls- but the fact remains that the other girls are all getting changed in the changing room, whilst I’m getting changed in the PE teacher’s office. When I step out of the office, I’m greeted by Nicole and Suriya in their leotards and a couple of other girls from the gymnastics club, who are also wearing their club leotards.

“So jealous!” Harriet says, stroking the sleeve of my leotard whilst wearing the same type of shorts and t-shirt I wore last year. Once the lesson is started, we ‘leotard-wearers’ are separated from the rest of the group to learn slightly more advanced stuff. Suriya and I- as the only newbies in the ‘leotard group’, are partnered with other, more experienced girls to help get us up to speed.

“You’re really flexible,” Carley- my ‘buddy’ for the lesson- says as she watches me perform my stretches. “You’d never be able to tell that you were- well, you know.”

“Thanks,” I say with a giggle. “Fourteen months of ballet kinda helps there!”

“Oh cool,” Carley says. “Whose school do you go to?”

“Krystie Fullerton’s,” I say with a smug smile that only widens as Carley’s jaw drop.

“No way!” Carley gushes. “You know everyone calls you and your group the ‘Little Angels’, right? Well, they’re right!”

“I don’t mind the ‘Angel’ bit,” I giggle. “The ‘Little’ bit, on the other hand- not so fond!” Carley and I giggle as we work hard throughout the lesson, but what she said sticks in my mind- I’m really flexible ‘for someone who used to be a boy’. As I strip off my leotard at the end of the lesson and pull my uniform back on, it only drives it further home that I will always be ‘one of the girls- but who used to be a boy’, but when I remember Nikki Thomas’s advice from earlier in the year, I smile. When I look in the mirror, my eyes may see a boy in a leotard, but my brain sees Claudia Fragapane, or at the very least, a girl- a GIRL- with the potential to be as great a gymnast as her.

“Hey fellow gymnastic girl!” Nicole squeaks as she exits the changing room. “Still wearing your leo under there, I hope?”

“Um, no,” I say. “What if I need to pee?”

“Umm, you just pull the gusset to one side and let go,” Nicole giggles, rolling up her sleeve to reveal that she is indeed still wearing her leotard, as does Suriya.

“What if I need to, you know, ‘not pee’?” I say, making Nicole recoil with a look of mock-disgust on her face.

“Eww,” Nicole laughs. “TMI, Laura!” With the other three girls looking at me expectantly, I allow myself to giggle with my friends as we head off to our break time. After a quick catch up with Megan and Priya- who both coo over Nicole & Suriya’s leotards- we head off to our next lesson (French), and after a quick lunch, Nicole, Suriya, Harriet and I head to drama club, where Mrs. Ingram is busy integrating the New Year sevens into the club. My cheeks start to blush when I see some of the younger child look in my direction, before giggling and whispering to each other. Last year, this was nothing unusual and was usually for the ‘wrong’ reasons- now, the younger girls (and a few boys) look at me with respect, sometimes even awe.

“Hi Laura!” Mrs. Ingram beams upon seeing my group enter the room. “Hi girls!”

“Hi Mrs. Ingram!” Nicole says with a wide grin, before any of the rest of us get a chance to say hello.

“Okay,” Mrs. In gram says, “now that everyone’s here, we’re going to do some one-to-one scenes, so you’ll need to find a partner, but… I want you to partner with someone if a different year from you. There are as many year sevens here as there are every other year combined, so I know this is possible!” The four of us look at each other and shrug- it’s Mrs. Ingram’s club, so obviously she can run it however she wants- and we set off to find a partner. Within seconds, however, a young-looking year seven boy approaches me with a look of near-awe in his eyes.

“Hi,” the boy says nervously. “Hi, um, are you Laura White?”

“Hi!” I say with a friendly smile. “Yep, that’s me!”

“Hi,” the kid says again with a cute, nervous smile that reminds me a LOT of the way Phil smiled at me on my birthday. “Um, hi, um, I’m Ashley Moore, can I partner with you?”

“Sure, Ashley!” I giggle, grabbing one of the print-outs from Mrs. Ingram’s desk and acting it out along with Ashley. The kid is clearly nervous- and obviously, nowhere near as good an actor as me- but by the end of the club we’re having fun and giggling like we’ve been old friends. There’s something about Ashley that I can’t quite put my finger on, but I can tell that we just ‘click’, and we have the potential to be really, really good friends.

“That was fun,” Ashley laughs as he puts the print-out back on Mrs. Ingram’s desk. “What- what lesson have you got next?”

“Drama, actually,” I giggle. “You?”

“PE,” Ashley sighs. “We’re doing rugby… I hate it.”

“Ugh,” I spit. “SO glad I don’t have to do that.” Ashley nods- even though I hadn’t outright told him my ‘status’, as he recognised my face and knew my name it’s safe to assume he knows who- and, for want of a better word, what- I am.

“I had PE before break,” I say. “Though that was gymnastics, rather than rugby.”

“Oh,” Ashley says, his interest suddenly piqued. “Did- did you wear a leotard?”

“Yeah,” I say flatly. “Because I’m in Mrs. Hall’s gymnastics club, everyone HAS to wear a leotard in lessons.”

“Cool,” Ashley says. “I, um, I should go…” I wake as Ashley leaves, before turning around and looking straight in the face of my three excited friends.

“Ooooh!” Nicole, Suriya and Harriet all exclaim.

“Don’t tell me Laura’s got TWO boyfriends…” Harriet teases, making my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Don’t tell Phil, he’ll get jealous!” Suriya says.

“Stop it!” I plead as we line up outside the classroom for our final lesson of the day. After a lengthy drama lesson- during which I get mercilessly teased by the three girls about my ‘two boyfriends’, I hop in mum’s car and head home. The sly smile on mum’s face confuses me at first, but when I arrive home to find a large package with ‘13’ written on the outside in camouflage-themed pink writing, the smile quickly spreads to my face.

“It came this morning,” mum explains. “You know your brother’s useless when it comes to posting things on time…” I grin as I open the package, smiling happily as I find various items inside including a pair of big, girly sunglasses, pink (albeit camouflage-themed) false nails and a big card that reads ‘to my sister on her 13th birthday. Enjoy apologising to mum for being such a brat over the next seven years.’ Giggling happily, I grab my tablet computer and immediately open up Facebook, sending a lengthy thank you message to Ricky with plenty of ‘X’s in it (which Ricky doesn’t know how to react to!) before finishing off my homework and turning in for the night. Even though I had a fairly light dinner, I still take a laxative before heading to bed- between gymnastics club and ballet tomorrow, I’ll be spending most of the day in a skin-tight leotard that I really DON’T need ‘paunching’.

Sure enough, when I wake up on Wednesday morning, I feel ‘refreshed’ from the laxative, and ready for the day ahead. I giggle as I pack my still slightly sweaty gymnastics leotard in my bag, before remembering what Nicole said yesterday. Giggling slightly, I strip off my uniform and roll the leotard up my body, grimacing a little as I feel it cling snugly, before pulling my blouse, skirt and tights back on top of the leotard. Of course, when I arrive at the school gate and show the girls the purple sleeve underneath my blouse, I get giggles of approval and hugs from all five of my friends!

At our first break time, the six of us sit around our usual table and prepare to discuss gymnastics club and ballet, when we’re interrupted by a figure approaching our table.

“Um, hi,” Ashley says, his face a picture of near-terror as he stares at us six girls.

“Oh, hi, Laura’s second boyfriend!” Suriya teases, making Ashley blush uncontrollably.

“Suriya!” I chastise the giggling Indian girl. “Hi Ashley, want to sit with us?” I roll my eyes as my friends all let out a loud ‘ooh’ at my invitation.

“Um, yeah, thanks,” Ashley says, sitting next to me on the bench.

“I’m afraid we only talk about girly things at this table,” Priya giggles. “Unless you like talking about ballet, gymnastics, clothes, hair and make-up?” Ashley blushes harder under Priya’s teasing, though as Priya mentions all the feminine delights, I can’t help but notice his eyes light up slightly… Almost the same way mine used to at primary school, when the girls I hung around with would talk about girly things…

“It’s okay,” Ashley shrugs as we resume our discussion of dancing. I keep glancing over at Ashley during the chat, and every time one of the girls- especially me- mentions things like leotards, tights, dresses, make-up or nail polish, Ashley takes a LOT of interest, much more than any ‘normal’ boy would…

After break, we all head to our respective classes, and at lunch, I find myself in the PE teacher’s office, stripping off my uniform to reveal my spangled purple leotard underneath. After 30 minutes of stretching, rolling and tumbling (that if I’m honest, leaves me a little light-headed), I head back downstairs with the other girls, sighing as I head back into Mrs. Hall’s office.

“It sucks so much that you can’t change with the rest of us,” Carley comments. “I mean, you ARE a girl, it’s, like, it’s just obvious. The school shouldn’t treat you differently like this, it’s not fair.”

“Yeah,” some of the other girls- especially Suriya and Nicole- agree.

“I’D be okay with it,” Natalie- a year 9 girl- says, “but my parents would probably have a fit if they let you change with us…”

“Well that’s THEIR problem, isn’t it?” Nicole says firmly, wrapping an arm around my lycra-covered shoulder.

“Girls, come on,” Mrs. Hall says, breaking up the impromptu ‘conference’. “Laura, I know you don’t like the rules, but you DID agree to them before you started last year.”

“Yes, Mrs. Hall,” I say sadly, heading into her office and pulling my blouse, tights and skirt back on over my leotard. When I meet back up with Nicole and Suriya to head to our next lesson, I still feel a little down, but knowing that the rest of the girls are on my side… It makes a BIG difference.

After the final lessons of the day- during which sitting in a sweaty leotard becomes REALLY unpleasant- I head out to my mum’s car, ready to head home and change into yet another leotard, when I’m interrupted by a call from behind.

“Laura! Hey, Laura!” Ashley calls, running up to me, almost out of breath.

“Hey Ashley!” I say with a warm smile. “What’s up?”

“Um,” Ashley stutters. Sensing that the boy is really, really nervous, I offer him a way out of the conversation before it starts.

“I really have to get going,” I say apologetically. “But would you like me to add you on Facebook?”

“Yeah!” Ashley laughs. “Umm, it’s Ashley Moore, you should be able to find me…” I giggle as Ashley rushes off to his own mother’s car, his cheeks burning with every step he takes.

“Boys flinging themselves at you left, right and centre…” Mum teases as I sit down in her car.

“Mum!” I say. “He’s just a friend…”

“’Just a friend’ who’ll have a lipstick mark on his cheek before too long?” Mum asks, making me cringe with embarrassment.

“Mum!” I yell as my mother laughs her head off all the way home. After changing from my school uniform (and gymnastics leotard) into my ballet gear, a knee-length black denim skirt and a lilac hoodie, I eat a light dinner before Mr. Malik picks me up for my first ballet class of the week.

“Soo…” Suriya teases me. “Have you told PHIL about ASHLEY yet?”

“Neither of them are my boyfriend!” I futilely plead as the entire people carrier descends into a fit of giggles.

“I’m sure Suriya is happy about that,” Harriet teases the petite Indian girl. “I saw the way you looked at little Ashley at break…”

“I do not fancy him!” Suriya pleads. “You have to admit though, he IS cute…” The giggling only gets louder, until the six of us are dropped off at the ballet studio, where Miss Fullerton immediately makes a beeline for me.

“Hey girls!” The tall, blonde woman says. “Hope your minds are ready for an hour of dancing, and you’re not distracted by things like, oh, say, boys… Right Laura?”

“I do not have a boyfriend!” I plead.

“Oh really?” Miss Fullerton teases. “That’s not what my fellow Angel said after she saw you leave a lipstick mark on her little brother’s cheek…”

“Please, can we just dance?” I ask, making Miss Fullerton giggle even louder as she leads us into the studio.”

After an hour of intense dancing that leaves all six of us worn out, we get back into Mr. Malik’s people carrier, everyone considerably LESS excitable than we were on the journey to ballet. Once I arrive home, I head up to my bedroom and switch on my tablet computer, grinning when I see the solitary notification on the screen- ‘Ashley Moore has sent you a friend request’. I quickly open up Facebook and accept the friend request, and before I even get the chance to close down the app, my tablet pings to inform me of a new message from Ashley.

‘Hi Laura,’ the message reads. I roll my eyes as the screen indicates that Ashley keeps stopping and starting typing, but no further message comes through.

‘Hi Ashley!’ I reply with a smiling emoji. ‘Sorry about delay in accepting your request, been at ballet.’

‘Cool!’ Ashley types. I take a deep breath before replying, praying that my earlier instincts were correct.

‘Ashley…’ I type. ‘Is there a reason you wanted to hang out with me and my friends?’

‘What do you mean?’ Ashley replies, making me roll my eyes at his stereotypically boyish denseness.

‘Ashley,’ I type. ‘If there’s something you want to tell me, you can tell me privately and I won’t tell anyone, I promise. But the way you asked about my leotard yesterday, the way you seem interested in our discussions about ballet and fashion… Ashley, and I don’t mean this in a nasty way, I truly don’t… But do you wish you were a girl?’ I grimace as Ashley pauses before replying.

‘Sometimes,’ Ashley types, and I smile sadly, understanding exactly how hard it must have been for him to type that message.

‘That’s perfectly okay,’ I type. ‘In fact, as I keep getting told, it’s cool! Do your parents know?’

‘I can’t tell them,’ Ashley writes. ‘They’d kill me!’

‘You don’t know that for sure,’ I reply, remembering the unconditional support my mum and grandmother gave me… But also remembering the actions of my so-called father.

‘I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t be happy,’ Ashley replies. ‘I’m the only boy, I’ve got 3 younger sisters… I really envy them at times.’

‘You feel like the odd one out?’ I ask. ‘Trust me, I know what that feels like. Do you have many friends in Y7?’

‘Not really,’ Ashley types. ‘No one from my old school came to this one so I don’t have anyone to hang out with.’

‘Well you do now!’ I type with a smiley emoji. ‘I promise I won’t tell the other girls about what we talked about, but I reckon you’ll find they’d approve too.’

‘Really?’ Ashley types. ‘Some of the other kids in my class said they heard the ginger girl was a bit nasty…’

‘Harriet WAS,’ I type. ‘Trust me, she’s cool. So are the others, in fact, earlier today I’m sure I heard Suriya say she thought you were cute…’ I feel a little guilty about teasing the young boy, but when he replies with a smiling emoji, I giggle.

‘Suriya’s really pretty,’ Ashley types. ‘Um, you’re all pretty, I mean.’

‘Thanks,’ I type. ‘I’ve got homework to finish, got to go, talk to you tomorrow!’ I go to switch off my tablet when my message notification bleeps again, only instead of a ‘ttyl’ from Ashley, the message is instead from my other ‘not boyfriend’.

‘Hi Laura,’ Phil types. ‘Up to much?’

‘Just back from ballet,’ I reply. ‘Sorry if I kinda left a smudge on your cheek on Saturday!’

‘No, actually, I kinda liked it,’ Phil types, making me blush. A pause falls over the conversation before Phil sends another message through.

‘You been up to much lately?’ Phil asks. ‘You’ve been kinda quiet on Facebook…’

‘Yeah,’ I reply. ‘Been keeping quiet, that was how my dad found out where I was, and he’s in prison now but I really don’t want to risk it.’

‘Okay, I get that,’ Phil says. ‘I’ve got homework now…’

‘Me too,’ I type.

‘Talk later, Laura!’ Phil types.

‘Ttyl!’ I type, before adding a string of ‘X’s to the end of the message. As I shut down my tablet, I find myself thinking about Phil, and about the dream I had, causing a surge of unusual tingles to flood my body. I barely get my homework done before heading to bed, and even then, I lay awake for what feels like hours, trying to rationalise the unfamiliar feelings I’m having.

I must have eventually fallen asleep as my alarm clock wakes me up at7:30, and as usual, I wash, take my boy-blocker and pull on my school uniform- though as there’s no gymnastics club today, I opt for a vest and panties instead of my leotard. As normal, I’m greeted by my five girl friends at the school gate, and we walk in together, though I do keep an eye out for Ashley as we head to form. During the first break period of the day, I head to our usual table with Nicole, Suriya and Harriet when I spot the young blonde boy sitting by himself on a bench outside.

“Hey, Ashley!” I yell at the boy, who looks at me as though I’m pointing a gun at him. “Hey, Ashley, come and join us!”

“Yeah, come on, Ashley!” Suriya calls. Nicole and Harriet quickly join in the ‘summoning’, followed by the already-seated Megan and Priya. The six of all let out a loud cheer as Ashley stands up and takes a seat between myself and Suriya on our bench. As the bench is only designed to have three children sat side-by-side, it’s a bit of a squash- but Ashley doesn’t seem to mind too much!

“Did you all enjoy ballet?” Ashley asks, prompting a mass giggle that makes him blush with embarrassment.

“Oh, stop embarrassing the poor boy!” Suriya scolds us whilst giving Ashley a quick cuddle.

“Should we be singing ‘Suriya’s got a boyfriend’ now?” Nicole teases.

“Oh- shut up!” Suriya says, blushing slightly herself and making a show of releasing Ashley from her cuddle.

“What was it you said last night,” Harriet teases, “’you have to admit, he is cute’…?”

“Suriya’s got a boyfriend,” I sing, giggling as the other girls (apart from Suriya, of course) join in the teasing. At the end of the break period, I head to my next class with Suriya (Harriet and Nicole are doing a different subject at this time), and almost immediately we find ourselves gossiping about our new friend.

“Soo,” I ask. “Do you REALLY like Ashley?”

“Well,” Suriya sighs, clearly fed up with the teasing she’s received, “he’s OKAY. Dunno about ‘boyfriend material’ though.”

“Why not?” I ask, mindful not to give away any clues about Ashley’s ‘secret’.

“I dunno,” Suriya sighs. “He just seems a bit… You know, like he’s hiding something…” I bite my tongue- I know for a fact that Suriya would think that Ashley’s ‘secret’ is cool- she was one of the first to accept me as a friend, after all- but I daren’t break my promise. If Ashley’s secret got out… My first two weeks at school were so terrible, I wouldn’t wish them on my worst enemy, let alone a sweet boy like Ashley. All throughout our next lesson, we occasionally gossip about Ashley, ballet and other boys, and by the time we return to our table for lunch- grinning when we find Ashley already sat there with Megan, Priya, Nicole and Harriet.

“Hey, girls and ‘honorary girl’!” I say, giving Ashley a quick hug as Suriya and I sit down either side of him.

“Stop teasing him,” Megan chastises me. “His cheeks are almost permanently red anyway!”

“Unless Suriya likes her boys with red cheeks!” Harriet teases. Much to my (and Suriya’s relief), Ashley joins in the giggling that floods the table throughout the entire lunch break. Before long, however, the bell rings to signify the end of the lunch period, and the seven of us disperse. Before we head to our final class of the day, however, I grab Suriya and Ashley and almost literally drag the two of them to the nearest water fountain, where we can talk in near-private.

“We’ve not got much time before class,” I say. “Ashley, if you don’t want to tell Suriya, it’s fine, but you can trust her just as you can trust me.”

“Trust me with what?” Suriya asks, confused by my sudden forcefulness and the look of terror that has crept onto Ashley’s face.

"I, um, I have a secret..." Ashley mumbles.

"Who doesn't?" Suriya laughs. "If you don't want to tell me, it's fine, but I promise I won't share with anyone, not even my sister!"

"I, um..." Ashley mutters, before whispering in Suriya ears. Much to my dismay, the Indian girl's jaw drops in shock, before the corners of her mouth turn upwards and she starts giggling with genuine excitement.

"That is so cool!" Suriya squeaks.

"See? What did I tell you?" I smugly ask Ashley, who looks as though he's had the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders.

"But do you- um, do you ever," Suriya stutters. "Do you ever get a chance to, you know, 'do' your hobby?"

"Nah," Ashley sighs. "My sisters are 8, 4 and 1 so their clothes wouldn't fit, obviously nor would my mum's..." Suriya reaches into her bag before Ashley has even finished talking, and pulls out her spare pair of grey school tights.

"Oh, damn..." Suriya mock-whines. "My spare pair of tights are damaged..." Anybody can see that they're not, but I grin when I realise what Suriya has in mind. "Ashley, could you put these in the bin, please?"

"Um, sure," Ashley says, shivering as he holds the soft legwear in his hands.

"Ashley," I giggle. "When Suriya says 'bin' she of course means 'bin'." I pat Ashley's bag, whose eyes light up with pure excitement when he realises what Suriya did for him.

"Don't tell your parents," Suriya says, winking at the excited young boy. "As far as anyone's concerned, you fished those out of the bin, okay?"

"Okay!" Ashley says, hastily stuffing the tights into a side pocket on his bag before scuttling away to his next class.

"You DO know that could get both you and him in a lot of trouble, right?" I giggle as Suriya and I head to our class.

"Whatever," Suriya shrugs. "Don't you wish you had a friend who'd done that for you in year 5 or 6?"

"More than anything," I sigh. "You are SUPER cool."

"I am, aren't I?" Suriya giggles smugly as we take our seats and our final lesson for the day begins.

...Our final lesson, that is, besides our ballet lesson, which I arrive at in the back of Mr. Malik's people carrier with the rest of the girls. When the six of us step out of the large vehicle, though, we're surprised to find someone other than a ballet dancer or a teacher stood in the reception of the studio.

"A-Ashley?" I ask, my jaw almost on the floor at the sight of the 11 year old boy.

"Oh hello," an older woman in her mid-thirties- obviously Ashley's mother- says to our group. "You must be Laura, Suriya, Priya..."

"Nicole, Megan and Harriet," Nicole says, clearly chagrined at having been forgotten. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Moore." Nicole opens her mouth to speak further, when she's interrupted by the arrival of our teacher.

"Hello, you must be Mrs. Moore!" Miss Fullerton says, shaking the hand of the older woman. "When you called and asked about your child named Ashley, I will be honest, I thought you were talking about a girl, but there's nothing that says boys can't be ballet dancers too!"

"I understand that you do have a waiting list," Mrs. Moore says.

"Not for handsome young men, I don't!" Miss Fullerton giggles. "Seriously, there is a real lack of talented young boys doing ballet, I would KILL to have more boys in my class."

"Can I, um, can I watch a class to see if I'd like it first, please?" Ashley shyly asks the exuberant woman.

"Of course!" Miss Fullerton beams, ushering us girls into the class to our places at the barre. "Just take a seat anywhere at the side." Ashley looks almost panicked as he sits down in one of the chairs at the side of the studio, but as I glance over at him throughout the lesson, he gets more and more relaxed, eventually enjoying the sight of the twenty-ish girls dancing- or the twenty-ish girls in our leotards and tights, who can say? All I know is that at the end of the lesson, when Mr. Malik picks us up, Ashley's mother is discussing payment options with Miss Fullerton.

"This is so cool," Nicole gushes whilst looking straight at Suriya. "You're going to get to dance with your boyfriend!"

"Ashley is not my boyfriend!" Suriya pleads in the exact same manner I plead last night, making me almost double over giggling.

"'Suriya's got a boyfriend'..." I sing, making the tiny girl growl with frustration. The six of us giggle all the way home, where after finishing my homework, I switch my tablet on and start composing a message to Ashley.

'Hey, Billy Elliott!' I write.

'Lol,' comes the near-immediate reply from Ashley. 'Dad wasn't happy when he learned I'd signed up for ballet, but he thinks I'm just there for the girls... Which isn't 100% untrue!'

'Lol,' I reply. 'You DO know you won't be wearing a leotard or tights, right? You'll be wearing what the other two boys wore...'

'Yeah, I know,' Ashley types. 'But I figure, you know, the more I'm there...'

'The better your chances of getting Suriya to give you her old leotards and tights?' I type with a winking emoji.

'Lol,' Ashley replies with a 'sticking out tongue' emoji. 'I haven't worn them yet, saving it for when I know I won't be interrupted...'

'Or you could always tell your parents,' I write.

'Who only barely approved of me starting ballet as a boy,' Ashley replies. 'g2g now, homework. Talk tomorrow?'

'Of course!' I reply as Ashley signs out of Facebook. I head to bed shortly afterwards, exhausted from the whole day- the whole week, in fact. I just about manage to drag myself out of bed at 7:30 for the final school day of the week and all but sleepwalk through the first couple of lessons, though I perk up at break time when I once again see Ashley already sat at the table, waiting for us as though he's always been 'one of the girls'. By the end of Friday, he's as much a part of our 'gang' as any of us- and it wouldn't surprise me if he puts in an appearance at Priya's and Suriya's tomorrow!

When I head to the car park at the end of the day, however, I'm surprised to find grandma sat in the passenger seat of mum's car, forcing me (and my school bag) onto the back seat.

"Hi grandma," I say. "What are you doing here?"

"Charming," grandma jokes with mock offence. "I'm here to take you shopping before your counsellor's meeting."

"Umm, what do I need to buy?" I ask, confused by the sudden (but not unwelcome) shopping trip.

"You'll see," grandma says smugly. Less than twenty minutes later, we three women find ourselves standing outside a small, independent underwear store, in the window of which I see bras and panties of all different varieties.

"I was thinking about what you said on Sunday," grandma explains. "And you're right- it isn't fair that you don't get to experience all the same things your friends will experience, so we're going to get you your first training bra!" My jaw drops as the elderly woman coolly sweeps into the shop and demands the assistance of one of the shop workers, who takes me into a private back room where I try on various different bras of all shapes and sizes- some that look virtually identical to 'real' bras, some which are more like camisoles. After thirty minutes, we leave with two training bras for me to wear- one in a shopping bag, the other fastened around my chest! The straps feel uncomfortable at first as I walk down the street, but after a while, it becomes second nature to wear it.

"Hello Laura!" Dr Williamson says as I arrive in her office. "Hello Mrs. White, Mrs. Clarke, so nice to meet you again!"

"Likewise, doctor," grandma says as we take our seats.

"Did you have a good birthday?" Dr Williamson asks.

"I did, thanks," I say with a wide grin. "I got lots of good presents..."

"AND a boyfriend..." Mum teases, making grandma snort and Dr Williamson chuckle.

"Phil is NOT my boyfriend," I moan, but to no avail.

"Well, you're thirteen now," Dr Williamson says. "I had my first- obviously non-serious- boyfriend when I was thirteen, it's perfectly natural that you'd start 'noticing' members of the sex to which you are attracted."

"As long as all you're doing is 'noticing'," grandma cautions. "That does bring up a point I wanted to ask you about."

"Please, go ahead," Dr Williamson says.

"As you obviously know, most young women begin puberty by the age of thirteen," grandma says, making me cringe with embarrassment. "Laura here obviously hasn't, and won't without- as she puts it- 'outside assistance'."

"You mean hormone replacement therapy?" Dr Williamson says, and grandma nods. "Obviously we can't just prescribe hormones to anyone under the age of sixteen, even with parental consent. However, if there is a genuine psychological need, then on special occasions hormones CAN be prescribed. One of the conditions for that is a demonstrated desire to live life permanently as the opposite gender- Laura clearly meets that condition."

"And I do have a genuine psychological need," I say, earning chuckles from the other three women for my over eagerness. "I don't want to feel left out amongst my friends..."

"You know your friends will love you no matter how fast you 'develop'," mum says.

"They wouldn't be proper friends if they didn't," grandma says, and I'm forced to nod and concede their point.

"I will review things throughout the next year," Dr Williamson says. "We obviously need to make sure that this isn't a reaction to your ordeal over the summer- I'm not saying that it is, I know you've been transitioning for longer, but I need to make sure that you're in the right state of mind to begin HRT, and that the only effects the oestrogen would have on you are positive. When prescribed incorrectly, HRT can have some devastating consequences, especially to minors."

"I understand," I say, listening intently as Dr Williamson continues explaining about the benefits and possible negative side-effects of hormone replacement therapy, but my mind was made up a long time ago- I want this, more than I've ever wanted anything. And it's not like this is a childish whim- I'm not a little kid any more, I'm thirteen, I'm a teenager, I'm more than able to think for myself. If I hadn't taken the boy blockers, I'd already have started a male puberty, I'd have a deeper voice, body hair, maybe even the beginnings of facial hair- and it would have CRUSHED me.

...But at the same time, the limbo I'm in is no better. Sure, I can do all the things teenage girls do- wear training bras, get boyfriends- but it's still all a show. Hormones won't change things overnight or make it all 100% real, but they will help me feel better as myself, as the woman I am slowly becoming. Grandma may constantly warn me not to grow up too fast... But the simple fact is that I'm growing up too slowly.

I know I should be grateful that I have this opportunity at all- Ashley's in the position I'd dreaded less than eighteen months ago, being forced to attend school as a boy when everything inside screams 'girl', and Nikki Thomas- who I look up to a lot- didn't start her transition until after she'd left secondary school. And I DO enjoy life as a girl... I just know I'd enjoy life as a woman so, so much more.

“Double turn!” The teacher yells, and I comply, pirouetting twice on my right leg. “Point your back leg… And pose!” I throw my arms up in the air and grin widely as the music finishes, earning- alone with Nicole on my left, and Suriya on my right- a rapturous round of applause from the assembled students.

“Great work girls!” Miss Ellison, our dance teacher, says. “The bell’s going to go in ten minutes so you’d all better get changed, Laura, follow me to my office please.” I nod sadly, waving to Nicole and Suriya as they head down to the girls changing rooms whilst I follow Miss Ellison to her office, where I peel off the tight black shorts I’d pulled on over my baby blue leotard and replace them with the grey tights and pleated skirt I was wearing earlier. After fastening my blouse and tying my tie around my neck, I slip my feet into my tiny black ballerina pumps and head downstairs just in time to catch Nicole and Suriya emerging from the changing rooms, having changed back into their own uniforms.

“You know,” Suriya says sadly, “we always save a space for you between us in the changing room. Same goes for PE, too…”

“Aww,” I sigh. “You needn’t bother, they’ll NEVER let me in to change with you…”

“Well they SHOULD!” Nicole insists. “You’re as much as a girl as any of us!”

“Yeah, but-“ I sigh.

“No buts!” Nicole says, interrupting me almost before I have a chance to speak. “You’re a girl! End of! The sooner the school recognises that, PROPERLY recognises that, the better, and I know all the girls in the club agree too!”

“Yeah, but I bet their parents wouldn’t…” I moan as we head to our final lesson of the day. After the bell rings to signify the end of the school day, I head outside to the car park, but it isn’t my mother who’s picking me up today. Instead, myself, Nicole & Suriya climb into the back of Suriya’s father’s people carrier to be whisked away to a school a few miles away from our own. There, the three of us enter the school’s vast assembly hall- a hall much larger than our own school’s- where we’re greeted by the drama teacher.

“Hi girls,” the middle-aged man says in a friendly voice.

“Hi Mr. Easton,” we say simultaneously, barely suppressing a giggle. I scan the room, looking at the various faces- an action that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Looking for someone, Laura?” Suriya teases.

“No,” I retort, before sighing. “Yes…” I keep scanning the faces of the children in the room, before smiling involuntarily as I find the face I’ve been looking for.

“Hey Laura!” Phil says, his eyes lighting up as he sees me. “Umm, you look nice, I like your hair!” I giggle as I involuntarily play with the short blonde hair I’ve been growing over the last six months, the hair that I had styled into a VERY feminine pixie cut this Saturday just gone.

“Thanks,” I giggle. “You look nice too…”

“Laura’s got a boyfriend…” Nicole and Suriya both playfully sing, making me blush and turn round to angrily face them.

“So do both of you!” I retort, sticking my tongue out at them.

“Yeah, but we’re not as seeeeerious as you two so OBVIOUSLY are!” Nicole teases as we sit down together- and away from Phil, sadly.

“We’re not ‘serious’,” I sigh. “I just like him, that’s all…”

“Yeah, well I like him too,” Suriya giggles. “But you LIIIIKE him!”

“Oh- shut up,” I say as Mr. Easton hops onto the hall’s vast stage to address the assembled children.

“Okay,” the dark-haired teacher announces. “You’ve all received your scripts by email, I trust you’ve been learning them and practising at home. The first parts we’ll be casting will be Anna, Sophie and Meredith for the girls, and Jacob and Jackson for the boys, so split yourself into groups of three girls and two boys where possible.” Unsurprisingly, myself, Nicole & Suriya quickly arrange ourselves into a group and begin rehearsing the script.

“Girls,” I say quietly. “I- I don’t think I’m going to audition for a role this time…”

“Oh no, why not?” Nicole asks.

“Laura, are you feeling okay?” Suriya asks.

“I’m fine,” I giggle, disguising the tiredness I’ve been feeling a LOT as of late. “It’s just- I was in the last play, it’s time for one of you to get a turn!”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Suriya laughs. “You were in the play as you were the best actress!”

“Yeah!” Nicole laughs. “Besides, there are three main female roles, so it has to be us three that get the roles, right?”

“Well- I guess,” I concede. “As long as we all audition for different roles!”

“Ooh! Ooh!” Suriya excitedly squeaks. “Dibs on Sophie!”

“I call Meredith!” Nicole says before I have a chance to speak.

“Guess I’ll be Anna, then!” I giggle happily, before the three of us resume our rehearsals. An hour later, after having run through our audition scene countless times, I grab my bag and prepare to leave when I’m stopped by someone calling my name from behind.

“Laura!” The familiar voice of my ‘boyfriend’ calls. “Hey, Laura, wait up!” I turn around to face the attractive young man as Suriya and Nicole giggle uncontrollably.

“What’s up, Phil?” I ask, forcing a smile on my face despite friends’ teasing.

“I just- I just wanted to give you this,” Phil says, handing me a red envelope which obviously has a greetings card inside. “In case I don’t get to see you again before Saturday… Happy Valentine’s Day, Laura.” I start to blush as I take the envelope from Phil, carefully placing it in my blazer pocket.

“I, um, haven’t got you a card,” I mumble. “Umm, Happy Valentine’s Day, Phil.” Blushing heavily- and with a LOT of kids watching, I lean in and give Phil a quick kiss on his cheek, earning ourselves lots of ‘oohs’ from all the girls in the hall.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Mr. Easton says. Phil and I both turn bright red as we leave the hall with our respective friends.

“She’s a man-eater…” Nicole jokingly sings as we get back into Mr. Malik’s people carrier.

“Show us the card! Show us!” Suriya excitedly squeaks. Still blushing, I take the envelope out of my pocket and carefully open it, removing the card and reading the message inside.

“To my first-ever Valentine,” I read, cringing more and more with every word. “You’re forever in my mind, Phil.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Nicole coos as I put the card back in my pocket. “You HAVE to get him a card!”

“I’m not going to see him before next Monday,” I feebly argue.

“Then post it to him!” Suriya insists.

“I guess it WOULD be rude not to…” I mumble, prompting cheers from my two friends. I arrive home shortly after 6pm, collapsing in a heap on the sofa, tired from a day of school, dancing and acting.

“Good evening, diva!” Mum chuckles. “Did you have fun at rehearsals?”

“Yeah,” I say with a smile, which only widens when I think about Phil and his card. “Auditions are in a few weeks so I need to get in all the practice I can…”

“Well you can’t practice on an empty stomach!” Mum says. “I’ve got a pizza in the oven, do you want anything with it?” My stomach rumbles at the mention of my upcoming meal.

“No, I’ll be fine,” I half-lie. As hungry as I am, a whole pizza is a LOT of food… Thank god I’ve still got some laxative pills left. Sure enough, after dinner, I head straight upstairs to change out of the uniform I’ve been wearing for almost twelve hours, before taking my laxative pill and changing into my favourite black denim skirt and a pair of thick black tights- a far cry from the thick grey tights and pleated grey skirt I’ve been wearing all day. A short while later, after finishing my homework, the laxative ‘takes effect’, and I climb into bed glad to be rid of the bloated feeling I seemingly get from every big meal nowadays

It seems that the only physical change that's taken place since I turned thirteen is that I've got wider, and in all the wrong places. My breasts simply aren't growing- I wear my training bra every day, but I really don't need to, not like my friends, all of whom have started puberty. Priya- who, at fourteen, is the oldest of us- is now very much a young woman rather than a girl, and at 5' 2" stands much taller than I am. I'm still taller than Suriya, but she's catching up, and I'm far smaller than any of the boys in my year. I sigh sadly as I stare at my still pre-pubescent body as I fall asleep, praying that when I wake up, I'll be a woman...

I wake up the following morning at 7:30 as usual, and after shaking the early-morning fog out of my head, take my boy blocker and pull my school uniform on over my small body, ready for the day ahead.

As always, I’m greeted at the school gates by my six close friends- Nicole, Suriya, Priya, Megan, Harriet and Ashley, who has quickly become as much a part of our group as any of the rest of us, despite the fact that the rest of us- myself included, of course- wear skirts, and he of course has to wear trousers to school. He assures me that he HAS worn the tights Suriya ‘lost’ last term, but only a few times and only for very short periods- nowhere near the amount of time I had my tights on yesterday, or will have them on today.

“Hey girlies!” I squeak happily. “And that includes you Ashley, as long as you hang out with us you’re an honorary girlie!” Ashley giggles nervously at my playful teasing, though it’s clear from his occasional glances at our grey legs that he’d prefer to be more than just an ‘honorary’ girl- something I wholly sympathise with.

My second lesson for the day is PE, which means gymnastics, which means that as always, I head to the teacher’s office to get changed, but Miss Edwards- our new gymnastics teacher- intercepts me before I can enter the cramped room.

“Laura, can I have a word, please?” The young, stern-faced woman asks. I nod and follow the teacher into her office, fearing the worst- am I about to be prevented from wearing my leotard to gymnastics, or worse yet, prevented from doing PE with the girls altogether? She surely can’t do that if I go to gymnastics club, right?

“Laura,” Miss Edwards says. “Recently I’ve been receiving complaints from some of the girls regarding you not being allowed into the girls changing rooms.”

“I’ve never been in there, I swear,” I babble, before Miss Edwards holds up a hand, silencing me.

“I believe you,” the teacher says. “The complaint was that you SHOULD be allowed in. Obviously, we can’t authorise that- it would require every single parent to be in agreement, and that will never happen. What I can do, however, is bend the rules slightly. From now on- if you agree- you can change in the girls’ toilets.”

“I- I’m not allowed into the girls’ toilets…” I say meekly.

“You are now,” Miss Edwards says with a smile. “At least, to change and during lessons. During break and lunch you’ll still need to use the staff or disabled toilets.”

“Oh my god, thank you so much!” I say, taking my bag into the abandoned toilets, where I strip out of my uniform and stretch my long-sleeved leotard over my body. I have a wide grin on my face as I join my classmates on the stairs up to the gymnasium.

“What are you so happy about?” The also leotard-clad Nicole teases as we start practising our stretches and tumbles.

“I’ll tell you later,” I giggle. On the way down from the gymnasium after the lesson, I stick close to Nicole, Suriya and Harriet, making sure they’re watching as I enter the teacher’s office… and exit it mere seconds later, taking my school bag to the girls’ toilets to change.

“Laura!?” Nicole squeaks excitedly.

“Guess who doesn’t have to change in the office anymore?” I tease in a sing-song voice.

“Oh my god, that’s so cool!” Harriet squeaks. “I mean, it’s not the proper changing rooms, but it’s still a girls’ room… Wait right there.”

“Harriet?” I ask as the ginger-haired girl heads into the changing rooms, only to emerge a few seconds later carrying her own school bag. Catching on to what Harriet has planned, Nicole and Suriya both run into the changing rooms, returning shortly afterward with their own bags. I almost have tears in my eyes as the four of us pull our school uniforms back on- Nicole, Suriya and I pulling our skirts, tights and blouses on top of our leotards, whilst Harriet strips out of her shorts and t-shirts, completely unfazed by stripping to her underwear in front of me. As far as we- and anyone looking in- is concerned, we’re just four girls in their early teens getting changed after PE. And that’s precisely what we are.

Before we can leave the toilets, however, we’re intercepted by the young teacher who’d just ‘liberated’ me from changing in her office- and she does NOT look happy.

“Girls,” Miss Edwards says. “The toilets were meant for Laura to use to change back into her uniform because she can’t use the changing rooms- you CAN, so you should change in there.”

“But it’s not fair that Laura should have to change alone at all,” Harriet argues, making Miss Edwards’s glare turn even darker.

“You know perfectly well WHY she has to change alone, Miss Cooper,” Miss Edwards says, making Harriet visibly back down.

“But we change with Laura all the time at home,” Suriya says. “For ballet, or when we’re trying on each other’s clothes…”

“And it’s not even like Laura LIKES girls,” Nicole says. “She’s got a boyfriend…”

“If one of the girls was a lesbian you wouldn’t be allowed to ban them from the changing rooms,” Harriet says. “Why should Laura be banned just because she’s different?”

“Believe me when I say the school has discussed this over and over again,” Miss Edwards says. “Just- don’t do it again, okay?”

“Yes, Miss Edwards,” the four of us say, before slinking off to break, where Megan, Priya and Ashley are already sat at our regular table.

“Hey, girlies and honorary girlie!” Nicole says excitedly as Megan and Priya make way for myself and Suriya to sandwich Ashley between us- a position he originally found embarrassing, but doesn’t seem to mind too much anymore!

“Hi girls,” Ashley says with a smile as he links his fingers with Suriya’s under the table.

“So go on then,” Priya insists. “Show us…”

“Yeah, show us again!” Nicole insists, making me blush as I pull the Valentine’s card out of my pocket.

“To my first-ever Valentine,” Nicole reads, snatching the card away from me as I cringe with embarrassment. “You’re forever in my mind, Phil.”

“Have you got him a card?” Priya asks, sighing with frustration when I shake my head.

“You HAVE to!” Nicole insists. “Even if you give it to him on Monday, AFTER Valentine’s!”

“And that isn’t even Laura’s biggest news!” Harriet says smugly, making me groan with further embarrassment.

“I…” I sigh. “I may have been allowed to change for PE in the girls’ toilets instead of the teacher’s office.” I cringe as a cheer goes up from everyone at the table, attracting the attention of the nearby children.

“It’s hardly a big deal…” I vainly argue.

“Nuh-uh!” Nicole retorts.

“Yeah,” Suriya says. “It means the school’s FINALLY seeing that you really are one of the girls!” I giggle happily as the bell rings, signifying the end of our break, and yet I can’t help but feel sorry for Ashley as the younger boy heads off to his next lesson with a frown on his face- as much as I’m being accepted as ‘one of the girls’, his secret is still only known to two other people…

After our next lesson, I- along with Nicole, Suriya and Harriet- head to drama club, where we once again meet up with Ashley (who, like a good boyfriend, devotes most of his attention to Suriya). We spend most of our time rehearsing for the upcoming auditions for the play. As the bell rings to signify the end of lunch, I prepare to leave, but am surprised when Ashley taps on my shoulder.

“What’s up?” I ask the terrified-looking young boy.

“Umm,” Ashley says, holding out a small, pink envelope. “Just wanted to give you this…” I giggle as I take the envelope- obviously ANOTHER Valentine’s card- from Ashley.

“Aww, thanks Ash!” I say, giving the young boy a friendly hug before we both head to our next lesson. However, when I sit down at my desk with Nicole, Harriet and Suriya, the latter girl has a VERY stern expression on her face.

“Why is MY boyfriend giving YOU a Valentine’s card?” Suriya asks, an angry tone slipping into her light Indian accent.

“Umm…” I stutter- I genuinely don’t know why Ashley would give me the card, it’s not like he’s ever said he fancies me or anything…

“Laura’s got TWO boyfriends…” Harriet sings in a cheeky voice.

“No she doesn’t!” Suriya snaps. Before I have the chance to retort, our teacher begins the lesson, all throughout which Suriya shoots me some VERY dirty looks. After the lesson ends, I head down to my mum’s car by myself- Suriya is still obviously angry with me- but before I can get in the vehicle I’m stopped by someone calling my name.

“Laura!” Megan calls. “Oh, hi Mrs. White!”

“Hi Megan,” mum says.

“Hey, what’s up?” I ask my oldest current friend.

“I was wondering, you know…” Megan says shyly. “Can I… Can I come home with you to do homework?”

“Umm…” I say, looking expectantly at mum, who rolls her eyes and chuckles.

“Get in,” mum says, and Megan and I both chuckle as we pile onto the back seat of the car. At home- after a quick tea- we both head up to my bedroom to complete our homework, but it’s immediately obvious that homework isn’t the sole reason Megan wanted to come to my house today.

“Megan,” I say quietly. “Why did you REALLY want to come round tonight?”

“Laura…” The bespectacled girl sighs. “You- you’ve changed a lot recently, and I’m not sure I like it.”

“What do you mean, ‘changed’?” I ask. “Well, obviously, yes I’ve changed from primary school, but even you have to agree it was a change for the better!”

“Yes, but recently,” Megan sighs. “It’s like you’re a completely different person, and not just because you’re now a girl- it’s the gymnastics, the acting… Boys…” I sigh as I remember the unopened Valentine’s card I still have in my blazer pocket- Megan is, of course, correct.

“You’re right,” I sigh. “But that’s the whole point, I don’t WANT to be who I used to be. When my dad took me, back in August… I actually thought about killing myself, if I hadn’t been rescued.” Megan gasps as I tell her this most intimate secret, and reaches over to give me a big hug.

“I’ve not told anyone this,” I say. “Not even my mum, and you must NOT tell anyone you know, okay?”

“Laura…” Megan whispers, tears in her eyes. “Wh-why?”

“I just couldn’t go back to being a boy, I couldn’t,” I say. “I want to leave my past completely in the past.”

“Does that include me?” Megan asks. “Because when we were at primary school, we really did have fun at times, didn’t we?”

“At times,” I say. “But we’ve had so much more fun SINCE primary school, haven’t we? With ballet, our regular make-overs… Remember the ‘fashion show’ we did for my 12th birthday?”

“Yeah, that was pretty cool,” Megan giggles. “Guess I’d better get used to being friends with ‘Laura the teen idol’, heh.”

“And I’d better get used to being friends with ‘Megan the teen idol’!” I giggle, but all Megan can manage is a feeble chuckle.

“Hardly an ‘idol’,” Megan sighs. “You’re the one getting Valentine’s cards, you’re the one who everyone likes, you’re in all the clubs, on all the teams… Most of the time I have to hang out with Harriet as we're the only ones who don't have boyfriends, and I don’t even LIKE her…” This time, it’s my turn to reach over and give Megan a hug.

“Okay, first, I’m NOT on teams, I’m not allowed on any of them,” I say. “Second… You really ARE pretty!”

“Yeah, but you’re prettier and you used to be a boy!” Megan sighs.

“I wasn’t prettier when I had all my hair cut off,” I retort, making Megan chuckle. “Trust me, you are a girly, gorgeous girly girl!”

“Yeah, but your opinion doesn’t count,” Megan says, before a grin creeps across her face. “Because you’re NOT a boy!”

“Tell you what,” I say. “How about every Tuesday, you come to my house or I go to yours and we hang out together, like we used to?”

“That sounds great,” Megan says, her grin widening. “Just like old times.”

“Not EXACTLY like old times,” I giggle. “In the old times, I used to be a BOY!” Megan and I giggle together for the rest of the night before her mother comes to pick her up, leaving me to reflect alone on what she said. When I started ‘making the change’, I was eleven- still a little boy, and all I wanted to be was a little girl. Now I’m thirteen… Priorities change, but Megan is right, in a way- some of the old times WERE fun… But as I get older, life gets more and more complicated, but also more and more enjoyable, a feeling that’s only strengthened when I hear a notification come from my tablet computer- a new Facebook message from none other than my boyfriend. Just twelve months ago, the mere thought of having a boyfriend would’ve been unthinkable, but here I am, giggling at the mere mention of his name.

‘Hey Laura,’ Phil types. ‘You free?’

‘Hey Phil,’ I reply. ‘Yep, not doing anything!’

‘Cool,’ Phil types, leading to a brief pause before he types again. ‘I meant ‘are you free Friday’?’

‘Um, what’s happening on Friday?’ I ask.

‘I wanted to know if you wanted to come to my place for dinner,’ Phil types. My jaw drops as the message comes through- is Phil actually asking… No, he couldn’t be, surely?

‘…Are you asking me on a date?’ I type, my fingers starting to tremble.

‘If you’d like,’ Phil replies with a smiley emoticon.

‘Brb,’ I type, my mind buzzing as I skip downstairs, my mind buzzing from Phil’s invitation.

“Mum…” I say cautiously.

“What is it, Laura?” Mum asks, clearly concerned by my tone of voice.

“Is it…” I say hesitantly. “Is it okay if I go to Phil’s for dinner on Friday?” At first, a look of shock sweeps over mum’s face, before being replaced by one of concern.

"Isn't it your regular meeting with Dr Williamson on Friday?" Mum asks, making me sigh with frustration.

"Yes, but I can miss the odd one or two," I plead. "PLEASE can I go? It'll, you know, be the first time I've had dinner with him, and it IS Valentine's Day the following day..." Mum giggles, suddenly realising the significance of what I'm asking.

“Aww, my little girl’s very first date!” Mum coos. “I trust his parents WILL be there, right?”

“Well, it IS at his house…” I giggle as mum rolls her eyes at my cheeky response, before sighing happily.

“Find out what time and whether or not his parents will DEFINITELY be there,” mum says. “But otherwise, I’ve got no problem with it at all!” I giggle excitedly as I skip back upstairs to my room, where I turn my attention back to my tablet computer.

‘It’s a date!’ I type, with a string of smiley faces and ‘X’s.

‘See you on Friday!!!’ Phil types. ‘G2G now, talk soon!’ Phil logs off, and as I climb into bed later that night, my mind is racing with possibilities for the date. Obviously, my rational brain tells me that it’ll just be a quiet, relaxed meal with Phil and his family, but my imagination is also telling me all sorts of things- it IS the day before Valentine’s Day itself, maybe he’ll want to dance with me… I may even experience my first kiss...

Of course, I haven't even begun puberty yet so biologically, I shouldn't be feeling this way about Phil, or any boy- whether it's because I like the boy himself, or because I like the idea, the status that comes with having a boyfriend, that it makes me more of a 'real girl', I don't know... All I do know is that I want this date. I NEED this date.

I wake up the following morning still fidgeting with excitement, and I still have a giddy grin on my face as mum drops me off at the school gate to be greeted by my six friends. My grin subsides when I see Suriya staring at me with the same angry stare she was yesterday, though I’m confident my news will sweeten her mood.

“Hey girlies!” I squeak excitedly.

“SOMEONE’s in a good mood today…” Nicole teases as we head to form.

“Well, I MAY have been asked on a date yesterday…” I giggle.

“By Phil?” Suriya asks, smiling as I nod.

“Well, he IS my only boyfriend…” I tease.

“Oh, that’s so cool!” Nicole squeaks. “I am SO using this to guilt Jordan into doing something special!”

“Same here with Ashley,” Suriya says. “ESPECIALLY as he’s giving Valentine’s cards to other girls!”

“Uhh, sorry about that,” I cringe. “For what it’s worth, I haven’t opened it yet…”

“Oh, whatever,” Suriya laughs. “HE gave it to YOU, not the other way round!” The two of us- along with Nicole and Harriet- giggle as we head to form. After the first few lessons of the day- and a morning break that sees Ashley cringing when the existence of his card to me is made known- I head into the toilets adjacent to the girls’ changing rooms, my school bag in hand, and I begin stripping off my pleated skirt and my grey tights when I’m suddenly surprised by the presence of two other girls, one either side of me.

“Come on Laura, hurry up, we’ll be late!” Nicole says as she strips out of her own uniform and stretches her tight leotard over her body. I look to my right to see Suriya doing the same, and I can’t help but sigh happily at my friends’ gesture.

“But what Miss Edwards said yesterday…” I say feebly.

“Oh whatever,” Suriya giggles. “We’re not letting you change out here alone!”

“I have the best friends EVER!” I giggle as I pull on my own leotard and follow my friends up to the gymnasium, where we begin our stretches and tumbles. After 45 minutes, I’ve worked up a good sweat, which proves unpleasant when I pull my already-worn tights back on over my glistening legs!

“I’m going to need to shave my legs again,” I moan as I pull my skirt back on and adjust my tights so they’re wrinkle free.

“Ooh,” Nicole teases as she straightens her own tights. “Want your legs to be nice and smooth for PHIL?” I stick my tongue out at my friends as they giggle at me, before we exit the toilets to be intercepted by Mrs. Hall, our gymnastics teacher and leader of the club we’d just attended.

“Mrs. Hall,” Nicole says, guilt written all over her face. “Um, we- we were just in there because-“

“I didn’t see anything, I don’t need to know,” Mrs. Hall says. “It’s actually Laura I need to speak to.”

“What is it, Mrs. Hall?” I ask, confused by why the teacher should feel the need to speak to me specifically.

“It’s about the school gymnastics team,” Mrs. Hall explains. “Laura, over the past few months you’ve really applied yourself in gymnastics club, and as a result you’ve got good at it. REALLY good. As such… I’ve been speaking with some of my counterparts at other schools- and I want you to understand that at this stage, we’re ONLY talking, we haven’t decided anything- but if they’re all in agreement, we may be willing to let you join the school’s girls’ gymnastics team.” My jaw drops at the news, and almost immediately, Nicole and Suriya drag me into a small group hug.

“Thank you, thank you so much!” I squeak.

“You won’t be thanking me when I enter you into some of the more advanced competitions!” Mrs. Hall laughs. “Now go on, I don’t want you to be late for your next lesson.”

“Thank you!” I say again as I follow Nicole and Suriya to my final lesson of the day, after which I head out to the school car park where mum is waiting in her car.

“Is it my imagination or has your smile got even WIDER since this morning?” Mum asks.

“…Maybe a little,” I giggle, making mum also laugh.

“GOOD,” mum says. “What’s got you so excited this time, ANOTHER date?”

“No,” I retort. “The school might be letting me join the gymnastics teams, that’s all.”

“’That’s all’?” Mum asks. “Laura, that’s a really big deal!”

“It’s not guaranteed yet,” I say, trying to diffuse my mum’s excitement. “My gymnastics teacher just thinks I might be good enough to join the team, and she wants to enter me into competitions…”

“Well it’s still fantastic news,” mum insists. “The school are finally starting to get rid of all these silly conditions and are seeing you for what you are- a REAL girl.” I giggle happily as we drive home, where- after a thankfully light meal- I swap they grey tights and purple leotard I was wearing at school for the soft pink tights and royal blue leotard I’ll be wearing during my ballet class. Last month, the seven of us joined Miss Fullerton’s intermediate class- hence the change in leotard from light blue (which I still wear to the school’s dance club) to royal blue. I would have advanced to the class earlier- having passed the necessary exam back at the start of December- but neither Megan nor Harriet had passed the exam, and the six of us- which later, of course, became the seven of us- made a pact that we’d either dance together or not at all- even if we meant that it’d take us extra time to graduate onto pointe shoes, which Miss Fullerton reckons we’ll all be ready for by the end of the year.

All of us, that is, except for Ashley, as I’m reminded when I arrive at the dance studio to be greeted by Nicole, Megan, Priya and Suriya & Harriet in their royal blue leotards, and Ashley in his tight black leggings and white t-shirt. Ashley took to ballet like a duck to water- hence why he’s joined us in the intermediate class so quickly after starting- but it’s very clear that, despite all the attention he gets from the girls, he’d rather be dressed the same way we girls are.

During the lesson, we practise pas de deux, and as the only boy in a class of fifteen (the other boy who’s usually in our class is away this week), Ashley is in high demand (much to Suriya’s frustration), but I eventually get a brief chance to dance with him.

“Hey Ash,” I say as I link my hands with the young boy and allow him to manipulate my body.

“Hi Laura,” Ashley says. “I’m sorry about the card… Have you had a chance to read it yet?”

“Not yet,” I say. “Ashley, you DO know I have a boyfriend, right?”

“I know,” Ashley whispers. “I don’t fancy you- no, I do, but- you know what I mean.” I giggle at the shy boy’s stuttering as he continues explaining himself. “It’s just- I wrote something in the card, just a thank you for supporting me through- well, you know.” I sigh sadly as we continue dancing.

“Have you STILL not told your parents?” I ask.

“How can I?” Ashley moans. “You’ve met my dad, he’s barely tolerant of YOU, god knows how he’d react if I told him about myself…”

“Huh, he’s always been polite to me,” I muse. “Why don’t you just tell your mum, then?”

“She’d just tell dad,” Ashley moans.

“Yes, but you’d have her on your side,” I point out. “The more people you tell, the less of a burden the secret will be. And I GUARANTEE the other four girls will keep your secret, too. I told Megan something the other day that I could NEVER tell my mum… I trust that she won’t spill, and you should too.”

“I’ll think about it,” Ashley says as our practise tome together comes to an end. At the end of the lesson, the seven of us pull on our coats, ready to head home, when Ashley calls the six of us to a private corner of the dance studio.

“Girls,” Ashley says. “There’s something I need to tell all of you.” Ashley looks expectantly at me, before continuing.

“Go on,” I say, nodding encouragingly.

“This is really hard for me to say,” Ashley says, nearly hyperventilating with nerves.

“What is it?” Priya asks with a chuckle. “You’ve not got my sister pregnant, have you?”

“Oh- shut up, he’s only eleven and I’m only twelve!” Suriya snaps at her sister, holding Ashley’s hand for support. “Are- are you sure you want-“ Suriya asks Ashley, who interrupts her before she can finish.

“I… I’m like Laura,” Ashley says, and I can’t help but smirk at the wording the young boy chose.

“You- you like Laura?” Nicole asks. “But I thought you and Suriya were going-“

“I AM like Laura,” Ashley clarifies. “All my life… I’ve wanted to know what it was like to be a girl.” I look over at Harriet- mindful of the grief she gave me last year- but much to my surprise, she’s smiling wider than anyone.

“Do your parents know?” Priya asks, and Ashley simply shakes his head in response.

“They can’t know,” Ashley sighs. “I’m the only boy in the family, they’d be really upset if I told them…”

“But YOU’RE really upset now,” Nicole says, sighing sadly as Ashley nods his head, before briefly glancing at me- clearly his knowledge of my ordeal with my former parent last summer has made him more reluctant to reveal his 'true' self to his own parents.

“No wonder you prefer hanging out with girls,” Harriet says. “Here I was thinking you just had really, really good taste in friends!”

“Well, I obviously do,” Ashley says, making all of us giggle happily. “I- I should go now, my parents will be waiting…”

“See you round, Ashley!” Nicole giggles. “Good job you’ve got a gender-neutral name!” Ashley laughs as he heads off to his parents’ car, and before the six of us have the chance to discuss the ‘situation’ further, Mr. Malik arrives in his people carrier to drop us all home. The second I arrive home, however, I head straight to my room and switch on my tablet computer, logging into Facebook to find the rest of my friends already online and waiting for me.

‘OMG!!!’ Nicole types. ‘Can you believe that about Ashley!?’

‘Could you have believed that about ME?’ I retort with a sticking-out tongue emoji, promoting ‘lol’s from all the girls.

‘Well, yeah, but you’re so OBVIOUSLY a girl!’ Nicole types. ‘Ashley… Did you already know?’

‘I did, so did Suriya,' I reply. 'I’ve been trying to get him to tell the rest of you for AGES.’

‘Glad you did!’ Harriet types. ‘Always knew he was cool, now I know why!’

‘Does he ever dress up much?’ Megan asks.

‘Not really,’ I reply. ‘Doesn’t have that many clothes to dress up IN, his sisters are all younger than him, obviously he can’t wear his mum’s…’

‘If my old clothes weren’t going to be given to my sister I’d give them to him in an instant,’ Nicole types.

‘I’ve not got any younger sisters,’ Harriet types. ‘He’s more than welcome to my old school skirt!’

‘Same here,’ Megan types. ‘I don’t need my old ballet leotard either, he can have that too!’

‘Sorry,’ Harriet types at the same time as Megan’s message comes through. ‘I meant to say SHE’s welcome to my old school skirt!’

‘Hehe!’ I type. ‘Hang on, let me invite Ashley into the convo…’

‘Ashley Moore has joined the conversation,’ reads the notification in the chat window.

‘Hey Ash!’ I type, as do the other three girls.

‘Hey girls,’ Ashley replies. ‘About what I said tonight…’

‘Do NOT back out of it!’ I order with a smiling emoji, prompting ‘lol’s from the other girls.

‘Oh no,’ Ashley types. ‘I meant everything I said. I just wanted to say thanks for supporting me.’

‘We’re your friends,’ Nicole types. ‘We’ll ALWAYS support you, boy or girl!’

‘PREFERABLY girl!’ Harriet types, prompting ‘lol’s from the rest of the conversation.

‘We were just discussing how we have LOTS of clothes we don’t wear any more,’ Nicole types. ‘They’re either going to go in the bin or to a charity shop… Unless you can think of anyone else who might want them?’

‘I couldn’t, really…’ Ashley types.

‘Oh don’t be silly!’ Harriet types.

‘I don’t have anywhere to hide them,’ Ashley argues.

‘You hid those tights you ‘found’ didn’t you?’ I type with a winking emoji.

‘Lol!’ Harriet types. ‘Did he ‘find’ them in your hand by any chance?’

‘Well… Maybe Suriya’s hand,’ I type with another winking emoji.

‘I could always ‘lose’ my old ballet tights after tomorrow’s lesson,’ Nicole types with a winking emoji of her own

‘Well… Okay then, as long as you don’t want them anymore,’ Ashley types.

‘Yay!’ Nicole types, closely followed by myself, Harriet and Megan

‘I’ll bring in my old skirt to school tomorrow!’ Harriet types.

‘Um, I’ll not be able to get it into my bag,’ Ashley types. I start to type a response when I’m interrupted by two more notifications- ‘Priya Malik has joined the conversation’ and ‘Suriya Malik has joined the conversation’.

‘Hey girlies!’ I type, an identical message from Nicole coming in at the same time.

‘Hey girls and honorary-but-maybe-soon-not-honorary-girl!’ Priya types.

‘We were just discussing how we have lots of clothes we don’t wear any more,’ I type, ‘and how they’d be ideal for someone a bit younger, say around 11 years old…’

‘I don’t know,’ Priya says. ‘Don’t like the idea of going behind Ashley’s parents’ back.’

‘What they don’t know won’t hurt them,’ Suriya types. I giggle at the thought of the two sisters- who are probably sat next to each other right now- getting into an argument over Facebook.

‘We still haven’t solved the problem of how you’d get the clothes to me,’ Ashley types.

‘Simple,’ Suriya types. ‘Just tell your mum you need help with homework, I’ll bring the clothes to your house in my bag.’

‘Not sure my parents would approve of me being alone with a girl,’ Ashley types, making me sigh with frustration.

‘How about two girls, then?’ I type. ‘If I come too I can carry more clothes with me, and your parents wouldn’t worry that you’re doing whatever the hell it is they think you’re doing!’ A vast hail of ‘lol’s follows from everyone in the conversation.

‘Sounds great!’ Ashley types. ‘I’m already getting excited!’

‘I STILL say we should tell Ashley’s parents,’ Priya types. ‘If they find out we’ve been going behind their back they will be even more upset than if we just tell them now.’

‘Believe me, that’s simply not possible,’ Ashley types. ‘I g2g now, got to finish homework. See you tomorrow!’

‘See you tomorrow, fellow girlie!’ I type as Ashley logs off. The rest of us also log off shortly afterwards, but not before we each choose an old item of clothing to donate to the ‘Ashley pile’. As I’ve only been a girl for eighteen months- and have barely grown in that time- I don’t have that many clothes, and those I have still fit me, but I’m determined to make a contribution, so I fish an old school blouse out of the wardrobe, one I don’t wear after it got a large ink stain on the sleeve, along with a frayed denim skirt I’ve worn to death and is far too tatty to wear out, but would be PERFECT for Ashley. I toss both garments into my school bag, hiding them under my school books, before changing into my nightdress and sliding into bed, where I quickly fall asleep after the day’s exertions at gymnastics and ballet.

I drag my still-groggy form out of bed as my alarm wakes me, as always, at 7:30. Just over an hour later, I’m stood at the school gate, my uniform wrapped around my body and my boy blocker in my tummy, working its magic.

“Hey Laura!” Nicole giggles. “I hope you’ve got something cute and girly in your bag…” I giggle as I open my bag, showing the girls the skirt and blouse I’ve packed. The other girls also giggle as they open their bags- even Priya, who’s carrying an old school skirt in her bag, along with a beautiful jade green sari.

“I still say we should tell Ashley’s parents,” Priya sighs as she heads off to her form, whilst Harriet, Nicole, Suriya and I head to ours. Needless to say, when we showed Ashley the ‘gifts’ at break time, he was almost bouncing up and down in his chair with excitement- especially when Suriya revealed that she’d brought along an unopened packet of panties as well, so that Ashley’s outfit, whatever it will be, will be ‘complete’. The rest of the school day drags- pun not intended- until home time and, later that evening, our second ballet lesson of the week. Suriya and I have both persuaded our parents to let us go round to Ashley’s after ballet to ‘help him with homework’, so after our lesson is complete, Suriya and I pull pink t-shirts and short denim skirts on over our dancewear, before following Ashley and his mother out to his car. Before I get into the car, however, my heart skips a beat as I see a VERY unexpected face coming toward me along the street.

“Ph-Phil?” I ask.

“Hi Laura!” The good-looking young boy says.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“My sister’s going for a night out with your ballet teacher,” Phil explains. “I asked if I could come along to, you know, say hi…”

“Hi,” I giggle excitedly as my friends all watch with great interest. “I’m, um, I’m looking forward to tomorrow…”

“Me too,” Phil says nervously. “Are- are you on your way home?”

“I’m just going to a friend’s house,” I say, pointing to Ashley and Suriya in the car. “Just to help him with homework.”

“…Oh,” Phil says, clearly surprised by my friend being a boy. I open my mouth to explain the situation, but am interrupted before I can speak by the honking of Phil’s sister’s car horn.

“…I should go,” Phil says, walking off before I can even give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Was that your boyfriend, Laura?” Ashley’s mother asks as I climb into the car, sandwiching Ashley between myself and Suriya on the back seat.

“Yeah,” I say happily. “Thanks for letting us come home with Ashley, Mrs. Moore.”

“Thank YOU for offering to help him with his English!” Mrs. Moore says. “I’m so glad Ashley’s got friends like you and the other girls.”

“WE’RE so lucky to have Ashley as our friend!” Suriya giggles, giving Ashley a quick cuddle. Immediately as we arrive at Ashley’s house, we slip off our shoes before heading up to his bedroom. Ashley has a large family- he has three sisters- but still has his own bedroom, so once we arrive, Suriya and I open our bags to show Ashley the ‘gifts’ inside. In addition to my skirt and blouse and Priya’s skirt and sari, he has an old pair of ballet tights and a short, floaty skirt from Nicole, a flowery dress and an old ballet leotard from Megan, another school skirt and a pair of shorts from Harriet and two pairs of black tights and some make-up from Suriya.

“This is all so amazing, thank you so, so much!” Ashley gushes as he examines the delicate items.

“Do you want to try some on now?” Suriya asks.

“Yeah,” I agree. “I mean, we’re both still wearing OUR ballet gear… Haven’t you ever wanted to dance as a girl?”

“All the time,” Ashley sighs, picking the ballet tights and leotard off of his bed. “Can- can you give me some privacy?”

“Of course,” Suriya giggles, leading me out onto Ashley’s landing. As we wait for Ashley, I can’t help but muse on how right Suriya was when she said that we were lucky to have him as our friend, even though we’re the ones helping him rather than the other way round. The excitement I saw in Ashley’s eyes as he picked the ballet gear off his bed was a look I remember well- it was one I’d had in my eyes many times, not least on my first day of secondary school. I’ve spent 13 years being a younger sibling- and only recently truly become a ‘little sister’- it’s nice to be a big sister to Ashley, to help him in the ways my own older sibling didn’t help me at the start of my journey.

“Okay,” Ashley says, opening the door slightly so that Suriya and I can re-enter. Sure enough, Ashley is stood in his room dressed in just a pair of pink tights, with Megan’s leotard bunched around his waist like a pair of panties.

“Let me help with that,” Suriya says, stretching the leotard up Ashley’s torso until he is able to slip his arms into the armholes. “There! Now you’re a proper ballerina!”

“This is so cool!” Ashley squeaks, bouncing up and down in a VERY feminine manner- a way I and my friends have done on many, many occasions. Looking at him- or rather, looking at her, Ashley could easily be just another one of the girls. His hair- HER hair is no shorter than mine, and after Suriya applies even a small amount of mascara and eyeliner to her face, the ‘illusion’ is complete.

“How does it feel to be a girl?” I ask.

“AMAZING,” Ashley says as she pulls on my old skirt, walking around her room as Suriya and I applaud happily. “It’s, like, this was just meant to be, you know?” As I watch Ashley, it’s amazing how quickly she falls into the role as a girl- her walk is feminine, her body language is feminine, even her voice sounds girlier… It’s like I’m meeting the ‘real Ashley’ for the very first time- and so is her girlfriend, who’s smiling even wider than Ashley herself.

Of course, after an hour of dancing, dressing up and yes, doing a little homework, the time comes for Suriya and I to leave, and I can’t help but feel guilty as Ashley is forced to wash off her make-up and change into a pair of trousers and a boy’s jumper, whilst I’m still dressed in my beautiful feminine clothing. As Ashley bids us farewell, I can tell that he’s upset to be back in his ‘normal’ clothes and deeply envious of myself and Suriya in our skirts and pink tights.

“Any time you need ‘help’,” I say to Ashley as we leave, “you know where to get it!” I wink, and Ashley immediately gets what I mean by ‘help’.

“See you tomorrow, AshLEY!” Suriya giggles, giving Ashley a quick kiss on the cheek as we leave.

After I arrive home, I finish off the rest of my own homework, but not before taking a laxative pill- with all the exercise I’ve been getting from gymnastics and dance, I’d hoped to get away without taking one for the rest of the week, but I’m feeling increasingly bloated today, and my leotard feels extra-tight as I peel it off my body. After my homework is done, I switch on my tablet computer and am immediately greeted by a Facebook message as I log into the social networking site.

‘Hey Laura,’ Phil types.

‘Hi Phil!’ I reply, a smile involuntarily creeping across my face.

‘Who was that boy you went home with today?’ Phil asks, making my smile drop.

‘Um, he’s just a friend,’ I type. ‘From school.’

‘Okay,’ Phil types. ‘You still coming round tomorrow?’

‘Of course! XX’ I type. ‘Surprised you need to ask!’ Before Phil can send his next message, a thought crosses my mind- he DID see me go home with another boy, a boy I’m close to… He can’t be THAT jealous, surely?

‘Phil,’ I type before my boyfriend has a chance to respond, ‘Ashley IS just a friend, nothing more. In fact, he’s Suriya’s boyfriend. You have nothing to ‘worry about’, lol.’

‘I’m not worried,’ Phil types, but I instantly see through his lie.

‘Just jealous, then?’ I retort with a sticking-out tongue emoji.

‘Laura,’ Phil types. ‘I really, really like you… So obviously other boys will too…’

‘Well they’ll just have to like from afar, won’t they?’ I reply with a winking emoji. ‘YOU’RE my boyfriend. And besides, Ashley’s not like other boys.’

‘How so?’ Phil asks. I pause before replying, mindful of just how much Ashley had to trust me to let me in on his secret- but if I can’t tell my own boyfriend, who can I tell?

‘He’s kinda like me,’ I reply, using the same words Ashley herself used yesterday. ‘Likes to wear girl’s clothes. Think he might actually BE a girl, on the inside, I mean.’

‘Like you,’ Phil replies with a smiley.

‘Yeah,’ I reply with a smiley.

‘G2G now, still got homework to finish,’ Phil types. ‘Was great seeing you today, see you tomorrow at mine!’

‘See you! XX’ I reply just as Phil logs out of Facebook and my stomach begins to growl from the medication I’d taken before switching on my tablet computer.

After the laxative has worked its magic, I head to bed thinking of my boyfriend and my new ‘little sister’, before quickly falling into a deep sleep.

I wake the following morning as always at 7:30am, taking my boy blocker and changing into my school uniform before heading into my wardrobe and picking out my newest favourite dress- a slender, light turquoise dress with short sleeves and a knee-length skirt. Aside from a narrow belt, it’s plain, but very pretty and also quite grown-up- a perfect dress for my date today.

I arrive at the school gate to be greeted by all six of my friends, and I’m almost disappointed to see Ashley wearing a pair of trousers today instead of either of the two school skirts he now owns.

“Hey Laura!” Nicole giggles excitedly. “Big date tonight!”

“It’s just dinner with his parents, hardly a ‘big date’…” I retort, though inside, a very large part of me wishes it WAS a big date…

“And how did your big DAY go yesterday?” Harriet teases Ashley, whose cheeks turn a bright red as we head into the school building.

“It was amazing,” Ashley sighs. “Just wish I could do it more often…”

“Um, hello? You can!” Priya giggles, giving me a quick cuddle. “All you have to do is tell your parents and you could wake up every day looking like this!” I beam a wide, goofy grin, making all my friends- including Ashley- giggle girlishly as we head to our respective classes. At break, we all head to our usual table to eat our food. As usual, Ashley is sandwiched between myself and Suriya on our bench, but unlike before he seems perfectly comfortable, chatting as though he’s always been one of the girls- which, in a way, he is.

“Soo,” Nicole teases, pointing at Suriya and Ashley. “Are you two going to have a hot date tonight too?”

“Yeah,” Harriet teases. “Are you both going to get dressed up in fancy dresses, wear fancy make-up maybe?”

“If only,” Ashley giggles.

“You could always wear my old dress,” Megan giggles. “So envious of you guys with your dates…”

“We don’t even have a date tonight!” Suriya protests.

“And besides, you’re hardly the only single lady,” Harriet giggles. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we have fun tonight!” Megan giggles happily with the ginger-haired girl, closely followed by the rest of the table.

"I really wanted to thank you all for what you did," Ashley said, reaching into his pocket and producing four pink envelopes. "So I figured..." Priya, Nicole, Harriet and especially Megan all sigh happily as Ashley hands them their cards.

"They're more 'thank you' cards than Valentine's," Ashley continues. "I just, you know, wanted to show my appreciation for you all SOMEHOW..."

"You are the best boy ever!" Harriet laughs as she reads her card.

"You know you'll make my boyfriend jealous?" Priya laughs as she slips her own unopened card into her bag.

"Not to mention making your sister jealous!" Suriya snipes. "Besides, you've already got plenty other cards..." Priya giggles at her sister's teasing, which only serves to remind her of how popular she's become as of late. Once break ends, the seven of us all head to our next class- but not before we six girls take it in turns to give Ashley big thank you hugs!

At the end of the day, I head to my mum’s car, ready to go home, when I’m once again interrupted by someone calling my name from behind.

“Hey Laura!” Nicole calls, all but dragging Megan and Harriet behind her. “Hi Mrs. White!”

“Hi girls,” mum sighs. “Why do I get the feeling I’m going to be taking more than one girl home tonight?”

“Only if that’s okay,” Nicole says, making my mum roll her eyes. “We want to help Laura get ready for her big date…”

“Get in,” mum laughs. “Though you’ll have to call one of your parents to take you home, okay?”

“Already asked my mum,” Nicole says smugly as she gets in the front passenger seat whilst I find myself sandwiched between Megan and Harriet on the back seat. Sure enough, the second we arrive home I’m marched up to my bedroom, where I strip to my bralette and panties as my friends get to work, first by plucking my eyebrows, shaping them into perfect feminine arches, then applying a liberal layer of make-up- mascara, eye liner, light pink eye shadow, frosty pink lip gloss and lip liner. My finger and toenail are repainted in my favourite light blue polish which complements my dress perfectly, and my hair is brushed out into a cute, fun style. Even though I normally look much younger than I actually am, when I look in the mirror now I see a beautiful teenaged girl staring back at me.

“Oh my god, you are going to knock him DEAD!” Nicole gushes as I pull on a pair of clear, nude-coloured tights, followed by my dress and a pair of black shoes with a 1” heel.

“Hang on,” Nicole says, taking her new smartphone out of her pocket. “HAVE to get a picture of this!” I strike a pose as Nicole takes several photos of me.

“Don’t upload them to Facebook until Phil’s had a chance to see me in the flesh!” I plead.

“Oh please, as if I would,” Nicole snorts. “Texting them to these two, Priya, Suriya and Ashley, on the other hand…” I giggle happily as the four of us head downstairs, where mum gasps and tears start to well in her eyes as she sees me for the first time.

“Wow,” mum gushes. “Stay right there, I’ve got to take a picture of this, my little girl on her first ever date…”

“Mum!” I playfully scold. “Less of the ‘little’ please?” My mother and my friends all giggle as I pose for yet more photographs, showing off my make-up dress and nails for the camera before we head out of the house, my friends heading to Nicole’s mum’s car with me getting into my mum’s car with her. I stay silent during the drive to Phil’s- my nerves threatening to consume me- and by the time I ring his doorbell I’m shaking so much I can barely walk.

“Hi Laura,” Phil- who also looks frozen with nerves- says as he answers the door. “Please come in…”

“Thanks,” I say, handing Phil a carefully-written card and following him to his dining room, where his parents and older sister are already sat and waiting for us. “He- hello, thank you for inviting me into your home…”

“That’s perfectly alright,” Mr. Brooks says. “Please take a seat, Laura.” I sit down next to Phil at the dinner table, elegantly smoothing my dress underneath me as I lower myself onto the chair.

“I love your dress,” Victoria- Phil’s sister- says.

“Thanks,” I say, still grinning nervously.

“I hope you like chicken!” Mrs. Brooks says, placing a large pot full of a delicious-smelling casserole in the middle of the table.

“Mum’s chicken casserole is the best food in the world,” Victoria says as she fills her plate. I take a small portion- obviously I don’t want to seem too rude, but the meal smells VERY rich… I’ll obviously need to take another laxative tonight…

“So Laura,” Mrs. Brooks says as she sits down, “Vicky tells me that you study ballet at Krystie Fullerton’s class?”

“Yeah, on Wednesdays and Thursdays,” I say. Despite the older woman’s kindly face and tone of voice, I can’t help but feel that I’m being interrogated.

“Yeah, Krystie’s always going on about Laura and her friends,” Victoria giggles. “She calls them her ‘Little Angels’.”

“Oh, how sweet!” Mrs. Brooks laughs as I blush.

“Stop it, you’re embarrassing Laura!” Phil pleads, only making his mother and sister giggle even more.

“I don’t mind, really,” I say.

“A prospective actress AND ballerina?” Mr. Brooks chuckles. “I should hope not!”

“I do gymnastics too,” I say, hoping to appear at least a little outgoing.

“Oh, that’s cool!” Victoria says. “I should introduce you to my friend Mary, she actually competed in national gymnastics competitions when she was younger.”

“Are you on the school team?” Mrs. Brooks asks, before a subtle cough from her husband makes her realise her faux pas. “Oh… I’m sorry, Laura…”

“Obviously we’re not going to hold it against you, the way you were born,” Mr. Brooks says in an almost solemn voice. “If Phil has accepted you as a girl and wants you to be his girlfriend, then that’s good enough for us.”

“Absolutely,” Mrs. Brooks says. “And you truly are a very, very beautiful girl.”

“Definitely,” Phil says to me, making me giggle as our eyes meet.

“Thanks,” I giggle. “And they’re actually trying to rewrite the rules so I can join the school team.”

“Really?” Phil asks. “That’s so cool!”

“It is!” Mrs. Brooks agrees, his solemn mood steadily improving. “Do you know yet what it is you want to be when you’re older?”

“I really, really want to be an actress,” I say. “I loved doing the play I did last year with Phil. We’re actually rehearsing for a new one, auditions aren’t that far off.”

“Phil was telling us,” Mr. Brooks chuckles. I start to relax as Phil’s parents start chatting to me like we were old friends. By the time my mum comes to pick me up at 8:30pm, the five of us are laughing like we’ve known each other all our lives.

“That’ll be your mother,” Mrs. Brooks sighs as the doorbell rings.

“Phil, aren’t you going to see your girlfriend out?” Victoria teases. Both of us blush slightly as Phil escorts me to the door, where my mother is waiting.

“Did you have fun?” Mum asks.

“Yeah,” I say, not moving from the doorstep.

“…Are you coming home tonight?” Mum says, before realising WHY I’m not moving. “…Oh. I’ll, um, I’ll just get the car round…”

“I had a really great time tonight,” I say, giggling as Phil takes one of my hands in his.

“So did I,” Phil says. I feel my pulse begin to race as we lean in toward each other, and an eternity seems to pass before our lips finally make contact. My whole body feels like it’s going to collapse into a puddle of jelly as Phil gently presses his lips against mine, before retreating mere moments later.

“Hehehe,” I giggle, my mouth no longer able to make coherent sounds.

“Heh, heh,” Phil babbles, clearly suffering from the same ‘problem’ as me.

“Uh, bah-“ I grunt, before taking a deep breath. “I’ll, um, see you later, Phil!”

“I’ll see you later, Laura,” Phil says, slowly releasing my hand as I climb into my mum’s car and drive away.

“Aww!” Mum coos excitedly as we head home. “Your first date, your first kiss… I trust you ARE going to wait before any more ‘firsts’?”

“Yes,” I sigh as I relax back into my chair. “But I do really, really like him…”

“I remember my first crush,” mum giggles. “I was the same age as you, he was a year older than me… Drove your grandmother mad one month by spending ages on the phone to him, heh.” I giggle as mum reminisces, but my thoughts are entirely on the boy with whom I just shared the most intimate moment of my life. I’ve not ‘officially’ started puberty yet, but every day I feel more and more… Mature, for want of a better word. Dr Williamson says that with my boy blockers preventing testosterone from taking any effect on my body, what little oestrogen my body naturally produces will be dominant, and I am beginning to feel some physical differences, but the differences are mostly mental- especially with regard to boys, and ESPECIALLY with regard to Phil.

Phil’s still in my mind after I climb into bed (after having taken and ‘got rid of’ my laxative), and wake up on Saturday morning. After taking my boy blocker, I dress in a pink jumper and a plain black skirt with hot pink tights underneath. The ‘Little Angels’ (for want of a better name) are all going to Nicole’s today for a pink-themed makeover- a second one in as many days, in my case- but before I leave, I switch on my tablet computer and log in to Facebook. Rather than send a message to Phil- who’s probably still asleep, the BOY- I head straight o his public wall.

‘Morning babe xxx’, I type, feeling a little guilty as I hit ‘send’ and put the message out for the whole world to see. Almost immediately, a comment pops up on the post.

‘Morning Laura xxx,’ Phil’s comment reads. I leave a like on Phil’s comment before switching off my tablet computer and heading down to mum’s car. Shortly afterward, I find myself sat in front of Nicole’s dressing mirror as my friends eagerly take turns applying layer after layer of make-up to my face- hot pink eye shadow, neon pink lipstick and think black mascara. I look around at all of my friends, who are all made up the same… Even Ashley, on her first official ‘girly day’. Yeah, I may not have the oestrogen tablets I so badly desire, and I may have trouble keeping my expanding waistline under control, but I have so much else- my friends, my ‘little sister’, my boyfriend- hell, even his parents approve of me. I’ve had my first date, my first Valentine’s card, my SECOND Valentine’s card… My first kiss…

My so-called-father, who is hopefully rotting in his prison cell, would probably drop dead of a heart attack if he could see how far I’ve come on my journey to becoming a woman, and I have so, so much further still to go.

“Hey, fellow teenager!” Suriya giggles as she answers her front door and ushers me into her home.

“Your birthday was three days ago, you can’t celebrate it for the whole week!” Priya laughs at her younger sister.

“Just watch me!” Suriya retorts. “Everyone else is here, all the other FOUR girls…” I grin as I realise what Suriya means when she says there are four other girls besides me, her sister and herself- and when I step into her kitchen, I giggle at the sight of Ashley in the makeshift make-up chair, HER face enhanced by the same level of mascara, eye liner and lipstick as my other friends’ and HER body clothed in a cute, knee-length yellow dress that used to be Suriya's.

“Hey girlies!” I squeak happily, greeting all of my friends- including Ashley- with brief girly hugs before taking my place in the make-up chair.

“Hey Laura,” Megan giggles.

“You actually managed to drag yourself away from PHIL to be with us?” Harriet teases as she applies my mascara for me. “How many times have you seen him over the Easter holiday, anyway?”

“Only a few times,” I protest.

“And how many times did he have his tongue stuck down your throat?” Nicole asks, making me giggle nervously at the memory.

“…Same number of times,” I squeak, making the whole room giggle in a high-pitched squeak. “He is SUCH a good kisser…”

“And where did you get that skirt?” Harriet asks, seemingly uncomfortable with the topic of boys and kissing.

“This?” I ask as I play with the pleats of my black denim skirt. “It was £5 from Asda. A better question would be where did Suriya get her skirt?” The small Indian girl giggles as she does a quick twirl, showing off her tight striped miniskirt.

“Birthday money, obviously,” Suriya giggles. “Same as that lipstick you’re putting on now, and same as this…” I watch with surprise as Suriya lowers the back of her skirt just enough to reveal that she ISN’T wearing the same type of panties I’m wearing now.

“…A thong?” Megan asks with surprise and concern in her voice.

“Yeah, so what?” Suriya laughs. “Teenaged girls wear thongs, I’m a teenaged girl…”

“Barely!” Priya says, her voice also full with concern for her sister.

“And it’s not like she’s the only one of us who wears them,” Nicole says smugly, earning gasps from the others- myself included. “Not right NOW, obviously, but as Suri said, we’re teenaged girls…”

“And they are SO comfortable,” Suriya giggles as she makes a show of sitting down in a nearby chair.

“AND you can wear them under leotards without them showing under the fabric,” Nicole interjects.

“You know dad will go mental if he finds out,” Priya says.

“Whatever, I’ll just say they’re Mohan’s,” Suriya says, making her sister laugh despite herself.

“Better than saying that they’re mine,” Priya chuckles.

“…I want one,” I say confidently.

“Well you’re not having any of mine!” Suriya laughs.

“Shopping trip after the makeover?” Nicole says, before grimacing as she sees Ashley suddenly look VERY scared. “Oh god Ash, I’m sorry, I- I kinda forget…”

“I can’t really go out like this…” Ashley sighs.

“Then I’ll get you something to wear over your dress,” Suriya says. “And some tights to wear on your legs, some shoes for your feet… No one will notice you!"

“You won’t be out long, either,” Megan says. “The supermarkets only around the corner…”

“Trust me,” I say with a smile. “If I can go out like this, so can you!”

“Yeah, but,” Ashley argues. “You’re- you know, pretty…” I blush slightly as the other girls all ‘ooh’ at the compliment.

“Aww, thanks!” I giggle, giving Ashley a brief hug. “And you know, if you DO go out, we’ll all support you, right?”

“Right!” My friends all say.

“Well… Okay then,” Ashley laughs to a mass cheer. “But I don’t really have any money on me to buy anything…”

“Trying things on doesn’t cost any money,” Nicole says as Suriya disappears upstairs, returning a short while later with a coat, a pair of tights and a pair of shoes that Ashley immediately pulls on.

“Dad!” Priya yells as the seven of us leave the house. “We’re going to Sainsbury’s for lunch, we’ll be back in a bit!”

“Okay, take care!” Mr. Malik yells back. I take a deep breath as I step out into the cool April air- it was around this time two years ago that I started living as a girl- albeit part-time- and in the intervening time, so much has changed. I have my own ‘posse’, I’m a ballerina, a gymnast, an actress… And to all intents and purposes, I AM a proper girl. And yet as much as things have changed, certain things have remained the same. I am now the shortest in our group- apart from Ashley, that is- and I am noticeably the least ‘developed’. I still take my boy blockers, of course, and I still take laxatives, but even there I find myself feeling bloated after almost every meal. Sometimes I actually cry myself to sleep, it’s as though I’ll NEVER be a ‘real’ girl…

I still see Dr Williamson, of course, and I tell her about all my anxieties, but the only help she offers is advice and techniques to help control my thought processes. I’ve not been offered any anti-anxiety medication or anything, and I’ve certainly not been offered any oestrogen, no matter how much I literally beg her for it. So I remain trapped in limbo, not a full girl, but certainly not a boy either…

“So, Laura, see anyTHONG you like the look of?” Nicole giggles as the seven of us wander around the supermarket’s vast underwear department.

“Umm, I dunno,” I say as I inspect the small panties in their packets. “It’s kinda a big step, I’d have to hide them from my mum…”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts!” Suriya laughs. “You were the one who wanted to come out shopping!” I roll my eyes and giggle, before picking a packet of 5 small patterned thongs from the rack. After paying for the underwear, we head down to the supermarket’s café for lunch. I opt for a light salad instead of the hot, fattening meals my friends choose, but even that leaves me feeling bloated and tired as we head back to Priya & Suriya’s home.

“You know,” I sigh, drawing the attention of my friends, “I’m kinda glad we didn’t stay in there long, after last summer I’ve kinda developed a phobia of supermarkets, heh…”

“Oh god, Laura,” Suriya gasps. “I’m so, so sorry! If I’d remembered-“

“It’s okay,” I laugh as we sit down in the Maliks’ vast living room. “It’s actually kinda good, you know? Something I can ‘show off’ to my counsellor next Friday…”

“And meanwhile,” Nicole giggles, “you’ve got something in your bag there that you can show off to PHIL!”

“Oh, no,” I giggle. “THAT area is off-limits until I’m sixteen!”

“Good girl,” Priya laughs, giving me a quick hug that makes me squirm slightly.

“Yeah,” Harriet agrees. “Make him work for it, even if all he has to do is wait! You know there are some girls in our year who have already lost their virginity?”

“One of the girls in my year actually fell pregnant before the Easter break,” Priya muses, before a sly smirk creeps across her face. “I reckon we should get some earplugs for Ashley!”

“I know what sex is,” Ashley laughs as she straightens her tights.

“Well you’re not having any with my sister,” Priya threatens. “Not until you’re BOTH sixteen!”

“If the thong isn’t for Phil’s ‘benefit’, even if it is ‘look don’t touch’,” Megan says, “who’s, you know, ‘benefit’ is it for?”

“Mine,” I say candidly. “I want to be as girly as possible as fast as possible… I’m not allowed oestrogen so I can’t change my body, only what I put on it…”

“You’re so lucky that you even have that option,” Ashley sighs as he stares at my body, which is covered in not just my pleated denim skirt, but cute patterned tights, a long-sleeved top and knee-high flat boots.

“You CAN have that option too!” Suriya urges her boy/girlfriend. “All you have to do is tell your parents and you’ll be just as much a girl as Laura is.”

“And as Laura is just as much a girl as we are,” Harriet says, “that’d mean that you’d be just as much a girl as us!” Ashley giggles at the support she’s receiving, but I can tell that she’s STILL unsure.

“What if-“ Ashley asks. “What if I decide later on that I’d prefer to be a boy? Like, I enjoy being a girl, but what if I didn’t want to be full time?”

“Trust me, you will!” I giggle.

“If you decide you’d rather be a boy, then you just say that to your parents too,” Priya says, shooting a disapproving look in my direction. “You have to do what’s right for you.”

“…It’s still too much,” Ashley sighs, earning a hug from her girlfriend.

“I’ll give you one of my thongs if you will…” I tease, earning a VERY disapproving stare from Priya.

“Leave the poor girl alone!” Priya chastises me. “It has to be a decision she makes herself.”

“Though I can’t help but notice that SHE smiles every time we refer to HER as HER,” Harriet teases.

“…It is nice to be ‘one of the girls’,” Ashley giggles. After Mr. Malik drops me home later, I muse on how right Ashley is in what she says- I AM lucky in that I’ve been given the chance to live my life the way I want, but for every ‘chance’ I’ve been given, it’s always come with a condition- something that’s hammered home as I hide my new thongs underneath my bed, next to my packets of laxatives. Not wanting to wait, I pull one of the slender panties out of its packet and hold it up, examining the narrow back. Within seconds, I've stripped off my tights and my panties and stepped into the thong, pulling it up my legs until it's tight around my hips and the narrow back is nestled between my buttocks. Suriya's right- it IS comfortable, though the sensations it creates when it moves as I walk around will take some getting used to!

I have a smirk on my face as I sit down for my evening meal, my thong still in place underneath my tights and my skirt, though the smile falls when I see the large plateful of shepherd’s pie mum puts on the table in front of me.

“Go on, tuck in!” Mum urges. “Need to get some meat back on your bones, you’re practically wasting away!” Chance’d be a fine thing… I self-pityingly think to myself.

“Mum,” I say hesitantly. “Next time… Next time you go clothes shopping, could- could you buy me some thongs, please?” Mum pauses eating, clearly surprised by my sudden question.

“Why would you need thongs?” Mum asks.

“Umm, to wear under my leotards for dance and gymnastics,” I reply, silently thanking Nicole.

“But you don’t have any problem with that, do you?” Mum asks. “Nothing ‘shows’ through your leotards, and you’re taking your anti-androgen tablets so that nothing ever will…” Realising I’m losing the argument, I try a different approach.

“What if,” I say, “I buy them with my own pocket money?” Mum simply giggles and shakes her head.

“Laura…” Mum asks with a smirk, “have you already bought some thongs?”

“…Maybe,” I mumble, immediately realising I’ve been ‘busted’.

“I can’t stop you spending your pocket money on things you want,” mum sighs, “even if you are FAR too young for thongs.”

“Nicole and Suriya wear them,” I say. “And they’re younger than me…”

“Ah, peer pressure,” mum laughs. “Yeah, I remember that… Laura, please tell me you’re old enough to understand that just because your friends do something, it doesn’t mean that you have to as well?”

“I know,” I say. “I’m wearing one because I want to, not because the other girls do…”

“You’re wearing one now?” Mum asks. Busted for the second time in as many minutes…

“…Yes,” I mumble, making mum sigh.

“Okay,” mum says. “But you’re ONLY to wear them when you have gymnastics club- CLUB, not class- or ballet. So I don’t expect to see any more than two in any weekly wash, understood?”

“Understood,” I say with a smile.

“Good, because there will be BIG trouble if I find more than two in there,” mum says. “You are growing up far, FAR too fast…” If only… I think to myself as I choke down my mountain of food.

I don’t finish my meal- I tell my mum I had a large lunch- and I take a laxative to relieve the bloated feeling in my stomach before changing for bed (leaving my thong off after taking the laxative, of course). The pain in my stomach from the large meal actually makes it hard for me to get to sleep (and makes me slightly nauseous), but I do eventually get to sleep, waking up at 10am and dragging my tired, bloated body downstairs for a mercifully light breakfast.

“Are you okay, Laura?” Mum asks as she notices me eating even slower than usual. “Just a bit miserable that it’s the last day of the holidays?”

“Yeah, kinda,” I say, making mum laugh.

“Well, you’ve got six weeks at summer to look forward to,” mum says. “And I know you enjoy school, at least some of it- AND you’ve got rehearsals for your play tomorrow.” Mum giggles as I smile upon being reminded of the play.

“Are you smiling because of the acting,” mum teases, “or because you know Phil will be there too?”

“…Kinda both,” I giggle.

“I hope he’s not going to be seeing you wearing a thong for a VERY long time!” Mum half-warns, making me giggle louder.

“No, they’re for me and me only!” I say.

“Good,” mum says. “And make sure your grandmother doesn’t find out about them either, you know she’s thinks you’re growing up too fast as it is…”

“Can do,” I laugh as I finish my breakfast and change into a pair of clean underwear- including a training bra and a pair of non-thong panties- a new pair of black tights, the same skirt and boots I was wearing yesterday and a dark blue long-sleeved top. Even though we’re going to grandma’s- who strongly disapproves of me doing anything even remotely adult- I sit down in front of my dresser and open my make-up drawer, pulling out a well-used eyeliner pencil, a nearly empty tube of mascara and a tube of pale pink lip liner, all of which I apply to my prepubescent face to make it look just a tiny bit older. I even spray on a tiny amount of perfume.

“Ready,” I announce as I skip down the stairs.

“Your grandma will still say that’s too much make-up,” mum laughs as we head out to her car. Sure enough, when we arrive at grandma’s, she greets me with a hug and a tut when she sees the make-up on my face.

“That’s too much make-up, young lady,” grandma playfully admonishes me, making me blush. “And is that perfume?”

“…Yes,” I mumble, my gaze fixed to the floor.

“…Well it smells very nice,” grandma says with a smile. “Very feminine! Your nails look very pretty too- though I trust you’ll take the polish OFF before you go back to school tomorrow?”

“Of course!” I giggle as I slump onto grandma’s sofa.

“And sit up,” grandma laughs. “I thought they taught you good posture at ballet?”

“They do,” mum laughs, “but no amount of ballet tuition will override the fact that she's a teenager!” I blush an even deeper shade of red as mum and grandma have a good-natured giggle at my expense, but before long I’m also giggling as we gossip about all manner of subjects- Ricky’s recent application for promotion, mum’s work, my school… I manage to forget about my worries for a brief while, until grandma summons us both into the kitchen to help prepare dinner- and the sheer amount of food she’s preparing almost turns my stomach, and when I sit down to eat the meal, it’s all I can do not to throw up then and there.

“Come on,” grandma urges. “Get it down you, you’re practically wasting away!” I’m not though, that’s the problem… I self-pityingly think to myself as I tuck into the hearty meal. On the way home, I have to make an effort not to moan with discomfort at the amount of food sitting in my stomach- obviously I couldn’t not finish the food and appear ungrateful, so I cleaned my plate- and now I’m deeply regretting that decision.

“Full?” Mum asks, chuckling as I nod.

“Stomach actually HURTS,” I moan. “I mean, I love grandma’s cooking, just not that much of it!”

“You know grandma wouldn’t be too offended if you don’t clean your plate,” mum says. “But she IS right, you have been eating less and less lately… You need to keep your strength up for your dance and your gymnastics!” Yeah… But I can’t very well be a ballerina or a gymnast if I’m the size of a house…

Needless to say, the second I arrive home I head up to my bedroom to take a laxative, breathing a sigh of relief as it works its magic and relieves me (however briefly) of my uncomfortable bloating. Once I’m ‘relieved’, I head back to my bedroom to finish off my homework, but as I complete the work, I find myself increasingly drawn to my tablet computer, and after finishing a particularly difficult maths problem, I ‘reward’ myself by switching on the tablet and opening Facebook, grinning when I see one particular name that’s also logged in.

‘Hey Phil xxxx,’ I type to my boyfriend, giggling as he responds almost immediately.

‘Hey Laura xxxx,’ Phil replies. ‘Had a good weekend?’

‘Yep!’ I type. ‘You?’

‘Yeah… Missed you though,’ Phil types, making me shiver excitedly.

‘Missed you too xxx,’ I type. ‘Will you be at rehearsal tomorrow?’

‘Of course,’ Phil types. ‘Mr. Easton says we might do Romeo & Juliet in Year 9. Feel like auditioning for Juliet?’

‘Only if you’re Romeo xxx,’ I type, earning a blushing emoji from Phil in reply.

‘G2G now,’ Phil types. ‘Got to finish off my homework. Ttyl xxxx’

‘xxxx,’ I reply as Phil logs out. I quickly finish off my own homework and head to bed a short while later, thoughts of my boyfriend still flowing around my mind. Ever since our ‘first date’ in February, Phil and I have been spending more and more time together- we see each other every Monday at rehearsals, and have been on other dates as well (chaperoned by either of our mothers or Phil’s brother or sister, of course). And yes, we have kissed each other. A lot. Using tongues, too. Every time Phil kisses me it makes me go weak at the knees, especially when he places his hands on my body, it’s like he’s shooting little bolts of electricity through his fingers…

My alarm clock wakes me on the first day of the new term at 7:15am, though it feels like I’ve barely got ANY sleep, and I’m half-awake as I eat a light breakfast, take my boy blocker, remove my nail polish and pull on my trusty school uniform ready for the week ahead. I perk up when I meet my six friends at the school gate, all of whom (even Ashley) greet me with brief hugs as we head to our respective forms. Throughout the day, looking around at my fellow students, it’s a relief to see I’m not the only one struggling to get back into the school routine after a long break- even the normally-perky Nicole gets admonished for yawning in class. By lunchtime, however, we’ve all ‘woken up’ a little- which is for the best as Nicole, Suriya and I head to dance club, where we’re all practising a routine for the final full-school assembly of the year.

“God, can’t believe how tired I am,” I complain as I strip out of my school uniform and pull on my baby blue leotard, followed by my skin-tight black shorts.

“You’ve been tired a lot lately,” Suriya says. “Is everything okay, you’re not, you know, ill or anything, are you?”

“Nope,” I say. “Well, I get the occasional stomach ache, but other than that I’m fine…”

“Stomach aches shouldn’t make you tired,” Suriya observes as she finishes changing into her own leotard and shorts, before following myself and Nicole up to the gymnasium where the rest of the fifteen-strong club is waiting for us. For the next thirty minutes, we run through our final routine over and over, drilling it into our minds so that in three months’ time, when we’re called upon to perform it live, there will be no mistakes. For now, however, there are mistakes, kinks to iron out- and as I prepare to head back down to the toilets (which still serves as my, and, when they think they can get away with it, my friends’ private changing room), I’m called back by our dance teacher, who has a concerned look on her face.

“Laura,” Miss Ellison says quietly. “I noticed out there you weren’t QUITE up to your normal standard… Is everything alright?”

“Umm, yeah,” I say. “Just, um, tired after the holidays, that’s all.”

“Oh, okay,” the teacher says. “Well, there’s still three months until the performance… Just make sure you give it 100% next week, okay?”

“Okay!” I say with a smile, before heading down to the toilets where (along with Nicole and Suriya) I pull my tights, blouse and skirt back on over my leotard. As I find myself struggling to concentrate during my final lesson- English- I begin to wonder whether or not Suriya and Miss Ellison might have a point. I AM more tired than usual, and half an hour of dancing certainly didn’t help… Then again, as mum and grandma constantly remind me, I AM a teenager, and when my brother was my age he definitely spent most of his free time asleep.

As the lesson ends, I make a mental note to mention my fatigue to Dr Williamson when I see her on Friday, but as I get in Mr. Malik’s people carrier along with Nicole, Suriya, Harriet and Ashley, I have only one thing on my mind, and more specifically one person, who greets me with a smile as I step out of the large vehicle.

“Hi Laura!” Phil says with a goofy smile that matches my own.

“Hi Phil!” I giggle, ignoring the ‘ooh’s of my friends as I slip one of my hands into his. Even though he’s only a month older than me, Phil’s already a lot taller than I am- and every time we speak in person, his voice seems a little deeper with each word he says.

“Laura and Phil, sitting in a tree…” Suriya mocks in a sing-song voice.

“Says the girl whose boyfriend is stood right there!” I retort, giggling as Suriya grabs Ashley’s hand.

“Ugh, too many couples,” Harriet sighs, before an evil smile creeps across her face and she grabs Nicole’s hand, causing the tall brown-haired girl to giggle at the confused whispers as the two young women walk into the school hall hand-in-hand.

“Why DON’T you have a boyfriend anyway?” I ask Harriet as we take our seats and wait for the teacher to start the rehearsal session. “You know there are plenty of boys at school who like you, even some year nines…”

“Yeah, but I don’t like THEM,” Harriet giggles.

“Okay, settle down,” Mr. Easton says as he gets up on stage. “Performance is two months away so I need everyone to really get their heads down and get their lines learned today, and that includes understudies. We’re going to be working on act 2, so for the first half hour, I want you to rehearse that, then we’re going to do a run-through of that act up on stage. Everyone clear with what they’re doing?”

“Yes, Mr. Easton,” the entire hall replies in unison.

“Good,” the tall drama teacher says, giving us all a double thumbs-up. Get cracking- I want this to be the best performance our schools have ever put on! I giggle as I head to an empty part of the hall with Nicole, Suriya, Harriet and two girls from Phil’s school. After being persuaded to audition by Nicole and Suriya, I applied for the role of Anna- and got it. Suriya and Nicole auditioned for the roles of Sophie and Meredith respectively and were also cast in those roles, with Harriet being cast as my understudy and Hannah and Tamsin (the two girls from Phil’s school) being cast as Nicole and Suriya’s understudies respectively.

“Hey Sophie!” I squeak in an excited voice. “I am SO looking forward to the dance this Saturday!”

“Oh, I KNOW!” Suriya gushes. “Hey, d’you reckon OLLIE will be there?”

“Yeah, Anna,” Nicole teases. “Noticed you and him swapping notes in class…” I giggle bashfully- an act, of course- as the three of us run through our lines. The play we’re rehearsing is a high school musical-style production set in the late 1950s. The characters of Anna, Sophie and Meredith are secondary characters to the main leads (played by year 11 pupils) but play a fairly big role in the first two acts. Sadly, the character of Ollie ISN’T being played by Phil… But as Phil hinted yesterday, there is always Romeo & Juliet next year…

After an hour of going over our lines over and over again, I step up on stage with my friends and run through the whole of act 2- and unlike at dance club, my performance goes flawlessly, earning (along with all the other actors and actresses) a standing ovation from all my friends. After congratulating us on our performance, Mr. Easton dismisses the class, and as I step off the stage, Phil comes over to me with the same goofy grin he’s had on his face all afternoon.

“You were great,” Phil says, holding my hand as we walk back to the car park.

“Thanks,” I giggle. “You were great too…” We walk through the car park in silence until we reach Phil’s mother’s car.

“I, um, I have to go…” Phil says, before awkwardly leaning in close to me. After what feels like an eternity, our lips meet, and I close my eyes as our lips part I feel the tip of his tongue start to meet mine…

“Laura!” Suriya yells. “Come on, put him down, we need to go!” I giggle as I let Phil get into his car and follow Suriya back to her dad’s people carrier, my body still tingling from my brief encounter with my boyfriend.

“FINALLY able to drag yourself away from him then?” Nicole teases as I sit down next to her and smooth my pleated skirt over my grey tights.

“And how far down your throat did Jordan stick his tongue last Thursday?” I ask with a smug face. “Ashley, cover your ears!”

“No chance,” Ashley says, laughing as Suriya playfully sticks her slender fingers in his ears.

“Do you remember when we used to talk about things OTHER than boys?” Harriet asks. “No offence, Ashley.” Nicole, Suriya and I all giggle as Harriet winks at Ashley- reminding him that as far as she’s concerned, he’ll always be one of the girls.

“Okay then,” Nicole says. “How about the pointe shoes Miss Fullerton says we’ll all be getting at some point in the next few months?”

“Great, more expensive uniforms to buy,” Mr. Malik quips, making us all laugh.

“You can afford it, daddy,” Suriya giggles. “Just wait until I’m in year 10 and you have a cheerleader’s uniform to wash every week!” The five of us giggle as Mr. Malik mockingly tuts and shakes his head all the way home. I’m the first to be dropped off, and after bidding farewell to my friends, I head straight to my bedroom to make a start on my homework.

“Laura?” Mum shouts. “Is that you?”

“Yep,” I reply.

“Do you want me to get you some dinner?” Mum asks.

“Umm, no thanks,” I lie- I AM hungry, but the last thing I need now is to feel bloated for the rest of the night, and it would be nice to not have to take a laxative tonight. “We, um, we went to a drive-through.”

“Oh, okay,” mum says. “Well, let me know if you do get hungry.”

“Will do,” I say- though obviously, I don’t request any food before I climb into bed, utterly exhausted, at 9:30pm. I fall asleep almost immediately, but I still feel tired when I wake up ten hours later and run through my morning routine, taking my boy blocker, pulling on my uniform and packing my school bag with my ‘normal’ PE outfit of a pair of navy blue shorts and a white t-shirt- which I change into a short while later (alongside the defiant Nicole, Suriya and Harriet) in my ‘private changing room’. As it’s now the summer term, we no longer do gymnastics during PE, meaning I only have to wear my team leotard once a week. Instead of gymnastics, today we’re taking tennis. Well, we girls are playing tennis- as I look over at the boys leaving their changing rooms carrying their shin pads and cricket bats, I’m more grateful than ever to belong to the gender I’ve chosen to live as.

…Though when I stagger back to my ‘changing room’ forty-five minutes later, I find myself almost wishing that I HAD been playing cricket- from what little I know about the sport, it involves a LOT less running than tennis, especially when playing with someone as athletic and as competitive as Nicole.

“Hope you’ve got enough energy for drama!” The still-perky Nicole laughs as I yawn.

“If you nod off during drama club I can always take over as Anna,” Harriet giggles as she pulls her skirt back on. “Why ARE you so tired, anyway?”

“Still getting stomach aches?” Suriya asks with clear concern in her voice.

“Yeah, sometimes,” I reply, suddenly desperate to change the subject. “Not that I don’t appreciate you girls changing with me, but don’t you, you know, miss the changing rooms?”

“No way!” Nicole laughs.

“…Maybe a little,” Harriet says. “I’d rather be with my friends, though!” I laugh with the three girls as we head out to break, where Priya, Megan and Ashley are already waiting for us with wide smiles on their faces. After another lesson- French, which I have difficulty concentrating through- I head to drama club with Nicole, Suriya, Harriet and Ashley.

“Hi everyone,” Mrs. Ingram says. “We’ve got a change of plans for today- as we’re a few months away from the production we need to measure you for costumes. I’m sure you can appreciate how much you’ve grown in the last twelve months, and you don’t want to get up on stage in costumes that don’t fit! Boys, you’ll go next door, girls, stay in here.” I stay sat on one of the chairs in the ‘girls’ room, only to suddenly become self-conscious as I feel several pairs of eyes turn in my direction.

“Umm, Mrs. Ingram?” I ask. “Which room-“

“ALL girls stay in this room,” Mrs. Ingram says with a warm smile. “You’re not going to be taking any clothes off, it’s just to split up the work easier. We’ll go alphabetically by surname, so Harriet, you first.” I take the opportunity to relax, as does Nicole- whose surname also begins with a W- and we (along with Suriya) run through our lines for the play, again performing our roles perfectly, even if we are sat around a desk rather than up on stage!

Toward the end of the lunch break, it’s my turn to be measured for the costume, and I have a smile on my face as Mrs. Ingram goes to work with her tape measure.

“Thanks for, you know, ‘keeping me with the girls’,” I say quietly.

“You ARE a girl, Laura,” Mrs. Ingram says. “The school thinks so, frankly I think it’s ridiculous that you’re not allowed to change with the other girls for PE, but then I don’t make the rules… Okay, you’ve lost a little off your waist, but otherwise your measurements haven’t changed that much.” Yeah, thanks for reminding me that I’m still little… I self-pityingly think to myself.

“You’ll love this year’s costumes,” Mrs. Ingram continues, “we’re really going all-out with the ‘fifties’ theme, so we’ve got poodle skirts, petticoats, the works… Your grandmother’s in her mid-seventies, isn’t she?”

“Um, yeah,” I say, already imagining what the costumes will look like.

“This’ll be the sort of thing that was fashionable when she was your age, then,” Mrs. Ingram says with a smile as I swap places with Nicole, the last girl to have her measurements taken. After my final lesson of the day, I head out to mum’s car to find Megan already waiting in the back seat. Despite it being PE and drama club today, I’d almost forgotten that it was Tuesday and therefore ‘Megan day’, so the surprise brings a genuine smile to my face as I get in the front seat of mum’s car.

“Hi Megan!” I say with a happy giggle.

“’Hi mum’,” mum laughs as we drive away. “Did you have a good day at school?”

“Yeah, tennis was exhausting, though,” I complain. “But I did find out what the costumes will be for the play!”

“Oh, cool!” Megan beams.

“Yeah, poodle skirts, fifties party dresses,” I say. “Kinda like those old photos of grandma when she was a teenager.”

“Oh, that’ll be so great!” Mum laughs. “She’ll love that… I take it you ARE getting us both tickets to see the play, right?”

“And me!” Megan giggles.

“Yes, yes, tickets for everyone!” I laugh, before stifling a large yawn.

“Tired?” Mum asks, smiling as I nod. “I’ll do you a big dinner when we get home, that should help.” That’s the LAST thing that’ll help… I think to myself as we head home, but sure enough, once we arrive home, mum makes a large meal of sausages and mashed potato that leaves my stomach in near-agony as I head upstairs to do homework with Megan. Before we start our work, I briefly excuse myself to use the toilet- and when I’m in there, I will my bloated feeling to rise into my throat, and- as silently as I can manage so as not to worry mum or Megan- I vomit up a large chunk of the meal I’ve just eaten. After wiping my mouth, I return to my bedroom to be greeted by a worried stare from my oldest friend.

“Laura… Are you okay?” Megan asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine, why d’you ask?” I reply as I sit cross-legged on my bed and pull an exercise book out of my bag.

“You’ve just seemed a little unwell lately,” Megan says. “You’re tired a lot, pale… You seem less healthy as well, skinnier…”

“Thanks!” I giggle.

“That wasn’t meant as a compliment,” Megan whispers. “Laura… I’m actually worried, I know the other girls are as well.”

“I’m FINE,” I laugh. “Want to know my ‘secret’? For the weight loss, I mean?”

“Go on,” Megan says in a cautious-sounding voice. I giggle as I hop off my bed and reach underneath, picking out my packet of laxative pills. Megan’s reaction, however, isn’t what I expect.

“Laura…” Megan whispers. “You- you shouldn’t be taking pills you haven’t been prescribed by a doctor!”

“Oh relax,” I laugh. “They’re just laxatives, they just help with my stomach, make sure I don’t retain so much weight, that’s all. They’re harmless.”

“Do you know that for certain?” Megan asks.

“I’ve read the warnings on the packet,” I say. “Do you want one?”

“No, I don’t want one!” Megan says, anger seeping into her voice. “Have you told your mum about these?”

“She doesn’t need to know,” I shrug. “If I have a headache, I take an aspirin, if I feel bloated, I take a laxative…”

“Does that psychiatrist you see know about them?” Megan asks.

“No,” I say, still confused by Megan’s unusual reaction.

“You should tell them,” Megan says firmly. “Your mum, too.”

“Whatever,” I snort. “Can we do some homework now, please?” Megan nods and gets out her exercise book, though the way she looks at me for the rest of the evening- and as her mother picks her up just after 8pm- leaves me feeling very uneasy. After Megan leaves, I make a point of re-reading the ‘warnings’ on the side of the laxative packet, before taking a pill anyway to relieve the bloated feeling that my throwing up didn’t QUITE get rid of.

“Have you and Megan had a falling out?” Mum asks as I go to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

“Umm, no,” I reply. “Just struggling a bit with some of the homework… Pretty tired, that’s all.” I briefly think about what Megan said about my laxatives- specifically, about telling mum- but ultimately I think better of it, and I climb into bed at 9:30pm with my bloating almost completely gone.

As always, I drag my tired body out of bed at 7:15am and- after a light breakfast- get washed, take my boy blocker and head into my bedroom to get dressed. I have a wide grin on my face as I reach under my bed and pull out one of my brand-new thongs, giggling as I slide it up my legs, followed by my thick grey tights and my pleated grey skirt. After pulling on the rest of my uniform, I gently fold my purple gymnastics leotard into my bag and head downstairs, where mum is already waiting in her car.

“You look happy this morning,” mum chuckles.

“It’s gymnastics club this lunchtime,” I say smugly. “And yes, that DOES mean that I’m wearing a you-know-what…”

“As long as it doesn’t get you in any trouble with the school,” mum sighs. I still have a smile on my face as I’m dropped off at the school gate- something my six friends can’t help but comment on.

“You look happy today,” Priya chuckles.

“Yep!” I giggle.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with our little ‘shopping trip’ last Saturday, would it?” Nicole asks with an evil grin on her own face.

“Maybe,” I reply with an equally evil grin of my own.

“Are you even allowed to wear thongs at school?” Priya asks.

“Whatever, it’s not like they can check your underwear,” Suriya laughs. “They were pushing it enough with those measurements yesterday…” I giggle with my friends as we head to form. The morning passes smoothly, and as lunch rolls around and I change into my leotard for gymnastics club, my smile has only widened. Before we head up to the gymnasium, however, Nicole, Suriya and I are intercepted by Mrs. Hall, the teacher who runs our gymnastics club.

“Girls, I’m glad I caught you,” Mrs. Hall says with a smile on her face. “Before you head up, Laura, I’ve spoken to the other schools in the local area and explained the situation regarding you being a member of the school’s gymnastics club… And they’ve all agreed that if you want, you can join the school team from Year 9 onwards.” My jaw drops and the three of us all gasps in shock as our teacher delivers the news.

“Oh. My. God!” I squeak. “Thank you so much, I’ll be the best gymnast ever, I promise!”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Mrs. Hall laughs. “You’ve got a lot of a hard work ahead of you- you two as well!” Nicole and Suriya both gasp as the teacher delivers the good news, and we giggle all the way up the stairs to the gymnasium, where we work our backsides off for the next 45 minutes, returning to our ‘private changing room’ with a fine sheen of sweat on our bodies (which causes me to shiver a little as I pull my tights back on over my sweaty legs). After the final lesson of the day, I climb into mum’s car still shaking with excitement.

“What’s got you so worked up?” Mum laughs. “Please don’t tell me it’s that thong…”

“Guess who’s going to be on the school’s gymnastics team next year?” I squeak, making mum gasp with shock.

“But I thought-“ mum stammers.

“Mrs. Hall had a word with all the other schools,” I explain. “They gave it the thumbs-up, and she’s wanted me on the school team ever since I joined the club, so that’s that! Nicole and Suriya are also going to be on the team.”

“That’d explain why you’ve worked up such a sweat!” mum laughs. “I’m guessing your leotard needs washing?”

“Please,” I giggle.

“And it’s about time the school is letting you join in,” mum says. “It’s ridiculous that you can play sports with the other girls in PE but not join in any of the teams or competitions, I mean, just looking at you, it’s obvious what you are, and that’s NOT a boy.” I smile as we head home, where I strip out of my uniform and gymnastics leotard and pull on the pink tights and blue leotard of my ballet uniform (though I obviously keep my thong in place). After a very light dinner, I hop back in my mum’s car, soon arriving at the dance studio that’s been like another home to me for the last eighteen months.

"Hey girlies!" I squeak as I approach my friends. "Take it you've all heard the good news?"

"About 'Laura, Nicole and Suriya: the super gymnasts'?" Priya giggles. "It's so cool, I'm so happy for you three!"

"It's not too late for you to join the club too," I say, before turning to Harriet and Megan. "Same goes for you two as well!"

"I'll pass, thanks," Megan says, staring at me with the same odd look on her face that she had yesterday.

"Ah, my 'Little Angels' are all here!" Miss Fullerton laughs, interrupting our conversation to usher us all into the studio, where we take our places at the barre and begin our warm-ups and stretches.

After half an hour of dancing, however, I suddenly start to feel a little... Off. Out of nowhere, my hands suddenly start shaking and my legs start trembling as I practise my pirouettes, and after finishing one series of pirouettes, I actually have to cling to the barre to hold myself up.

"Are you okay, Laura?" Priya asks after finishing her own pirouettes. "You look a little unwell... Want me to call Miss Fullerton over?"

"I- I'm fine," I whisper. I HAVE to be fine, if I can't handle a simple ballet lesson I'm not going to be able to handle a gymnastics competition, am I? And the more lessons I leave incomplete, the further away my pointe shoes are...

I take a deep breath and begin another series of pirouettes, though before I've completed the fourth, my head begins to spin and my legs start to seriously wobble. By the time I've started the sixth pirouette, my eyes fill with darkness and my legs buckle, their strength completely drained. I don't even feel the impact as I tumble to the floor- all I hear is the unmistakable sound of a body crumpling to the floor and the concerned cries of my friends and my dance teacher.

"Hello?" I call out in the pitch-black darkness. "Hello? Anybody?" I try to walk forward, but it's like my entire body is encased in treacle, and progress is slow, so very slow.

"Mum?" I call out in a panic. "Grandma? Ricky? ANYONE!?" I try to wade forward through the ooze but it sucks me down, covering my body and my head until I can feel myself suffocating...

I take several deep breaths as I open my eyes, the light of the unfamiliar room temporarily blinding me. I'm laid in an unfamiliar bed, wearing an unfamiliar nightdress, and I'm in a LOT of pain...

"Hello?" I weakly croak, my throat parched.

"Laura?" The tired-sounding voice of my mum calls. "Laura? Oh thank god, thank god!" I squirm a little as mum gives me a big hug, before her mood suddenly turns from one of relief to one of intense anger.

"You stupid girl!" Mum wails through a flood of tears. "You stupid, stupid girl!"

"Mum?" I ask, tears of my own trickling down my cheeks.

"How could you do this?" Mum cries. "Why didn't you speak to me?"

"Mum!?" I wail.

"The laxatives, Laura!" Mum wails. "How could you be so stupid?"

"I- I didn't want to be fat..." I blub, breaking down in floods of tears of my own as mum embraces me again.

"Then why didn't you TELL me?" Mum asks, her mood calming as a young-looking doctor approaches me from the other side of the ward.

"Ah, Miss White, welcome back to the land of the living!" The young- barely thirty year old- woman says to me.

"Where am I?" I ask.

"Charing Cross hospital," the doctor says bluntly. "You were taken here after you fainted during your dance class. You were severely dehydrated, so we've put you on a nutrient drip."

"No..." I weakly moan, reaching for the drip only for my mum to hold my wrist down, thwarting my attempt.

"Laura- can I call you Laura?" The doctor asks, smiling as I nod. "I'm Sian, Doctor Sian Hanley. Laura... From what your mother has told me, you've been illicitly taking laxatives, is this correct?" With my face filled with shame, I nod.

"How frequently, and for how long?" Dr Hanley asks.

"Tell the doctor, Laura," mum says sternly as I hesitate.

"Four or five times a week," I mumble. "Sometimes more. Since August last year, after my dad..."

"As if I didn't have enough reasons to hate that man," mum spits.

"Have you taken other steps to remove food from your body, such as vomiting after a large meal?" Dr Hanley asks.

"Maybe once or twice," I mumble, my shame increasing even as mum gives me a supportive hug.

"As I suspected," Dr Hanley says. "Laura, Mrs. White... I believe that you're suffering from an eating disorder, most likely bulimia nervosa."

"But can you make her better?" Mum asks.

"It won't be easy and it won't be quick," Dr Hanley says. "As it's a psychological condition it isn't something where we can simply prescribe a medication and it'll go away." No, there IS a medication you can prescribe, I angrily think to myself. It's called 'oestrogen'...

"I understand that Laura's already seeing a counsellor to help her through her gender transition, is that correct?" Dr Hanley asks.

"Yes, her name is Williamson," mum replies.

"Yep, I know Dr Williamson," Dr Hanley says. "With your permission, I'd like to call her to let her know what's happened, her office should open in a few minutes' time."

"Yes, of course," mum says. Wait- if her office is about to open...

"Wh-what time is it?" I ask, scanning the walls for a clock.

"8:50am," Dr Hanley says. "Your mum was here all night waiting for you to wake up."

"But- but school," I say, weakly trying to free myself from my bed.

"You're in no fit state for school!" Mum says, forcing me back down. "I called them half an hour ago to explain that you won't be in today or tomorrow. You need to focus on getting yourself better first."

"Your mum's right," Dr Hanley says. "Depending on how you respond to the nutrient IV, we may be able to discharge you tomorrow, but your body's been through a lot. Laxative abuse of the scale you described can have long-lasting consequences- sodium deficiency, potassium deficiency, even kidney or liver damage. We've drawn some blood from you and are awaiting the results. In the meantime, the most important thing is that you rest and get your strength back." I lay back in bed, knowing that I'm not going to win this argument, but I feel even more depressed than ever.

"But the play..." I weakly moan.

"Oh, are you an actress?" Dr Hanley asks with a smile on her face, which widens as I nod. "That's so cool, I did a little acting in school. What play are you doing?"

"It's one my boyfriend's drama teacher wrote for us," I say.

"Oh, and you have a boyfriend too?" Dr Hanley asks, giggling as I nod. "An actress, a ballerina and you have a boyfriend? For a 13 year old, it sounds like you've got quite a lot going for you..." I force a smile on my lips, though the more I think about it, the more I realise that the doctor is right- especially when I think about Ashley, having to suffer through secondary school as a boy. My eyes then go wide as I realise that when I collapsed, it was in front of Ashley, and all my other friends- all of whom must be worried sick...

"M- my friends..." I moan.

"Utterly terrified," mum admonishes me. "Megan actually insisted on coming with you to the hospital, that's when she told me about the laxatives..."

"I should call them," I say, looking around for a telephone.

"They'll all be at school by now!" Mum says, once again forcing me to lay back down. "I've got the day off work- and tomorrow- I'll call all their parents to let them know you're awake."

"Can you call Phil's parents too?" I meekly ask. "Or his sister. And Miss Fullerton. And grandma..."

"Your grandmother's already on her way here," mum says with an element of fear in her voice- a fear I understand all too well when the fearsome elderly woman arrives twenty minutes later and, like mum, gives me a hug, only to turn angry immediately afterwards.

"What do you think you're doing taking laxatives, young lady?" Grandma scowls. "You're not constipated, are you?"

"I- I just didn't want to be fat," I mumble, my cheeks again burning with shame.

"You'd have to eat a lot more than you do right now to get fat!" Grandma snorts. "And laxatives aren't going to make you skinny anyway!"

"Your grandmother's right," mum says. "All they do is dehydrate you, all the nutrients from your food have already passed into your body before the laxatives have the chance to do any work."

"So all this... For nothing?" I ask, aghast that all my time spent 'purging' my body was wasted.

"Basically, yeah," mum says, making tears flow from my eyes yet again.

"Everyone's entitled to make a mistake once in a while," grandma says, giving me a long, much-needed hug. "The important thing is that you learn from the mistakes and don’t. Repeat. Them!"

"I know," I moan. "It's just- all my friends, I look at them and I just wish I could be as beautiful, as, you know, 'mature' as them... Can't do that with a pot belly..."

"You WILL mature," grandma reassures me. "But your body can't mature until your brain does, and that won't happen whilst you're still obsessed with your weight!"

"But I don't know how to stop obsessing," I say.

"Dr Hanley is calling your counsellor, she'll help you work through this," mum says. "Laura... Any problem you have ANY at all, we're all here to help you through it. You don't need to suffer in silence and you CERTAINLY don't need to take matters into your own hands and hospitalise yourself!"

"...Thanks," I say with genuine gratitude. Grandma sticks around for the next hour, telling me stories about the childhood of both herself and my mother. She seemed especially excited to learn that my play was set in the 1950s- when she was my age- and didn't seem put off by the fact that my current 'situation' jeopardised my place in the cast, insisting that I WILL be well enough to play the role by summer.

After grandma leaves, and mum briefly leaves to check on a few things at home and make the phone calls I requested, I have my curtains pulled shut before laying back in bed to try to get some more sleep. When I wake up three hours later, mum is back at my bedside, and Dr Hanley is quickly called back over.

"I've got the results of your tests," Dr Hanley says with a stoic face. "It's not ALL bad news... There does appear to be some reduced kidney function and a slight sodium and potassium deficiency, but this can all be reversed with the right diet and by getting plenty of fluids."

"When can I get out of here?" I ask, prompting a sigh from my mum and a laugh from Dr Hanley.

"I want to keep you in one more night," Dr Hanley says. "Mainly for observation, and to make sure you're getting enough fluids."

"...Am I going to have to eat?" I whisper.

"As long as you feel up to it, but I would recommend it," Dr Hanley says.

"You should eat something," mum insists. "You haven't eaten anything since last night's dinner, and even that wasn't big..."

"...It would be nice," I say, making my mother and the doctor both smile.

"I'm also going to recommend that you stay off school at least until next Thursday," Dr Hanley says, making my heart sink.

"But then I'll miss rehearsals..." I moan. "And gymnastics club..."

"Your body's been through a lot, Laura," Dr Hanley says. "The laxatives weakened you considerably, and things like gymnastics and dancing will just put too much strain on it. You NEED to recover, to get stronger again."

"...But I'll get fat if I don't exercise," I whine in a feeble voice.

"Then do light exercise," the doctor advises. "Go for a walk, a swim... You ARE currently underweight for someone your height and weight. Gaining a kilogram or two won't hurt you, quite the opposite in fact." I sigh and nod my head, and when my dinner is brought to me later, I finish every bite of it, despite the stomach cramping it later causes as I try to get to sleep.

Finally, on Friday morning, after a breakfast of corn flakes (which I again eat every bite of), I'm discharged from hospital, wearing a long-sleeved grey dress and thick black tights and hoping that I never set foot in that place ever again. I still feel unsteady on my legs, having spent over 36 hours in bed, but it does feel good to be in proper clothes again and to wear make-up, even if it just a little mascara. After a light- but filling- lunch, mum takes me to Dr Williamson's office for my scheduled appointment- though obviously today's appointment is going to be very different than usual.

"Hello Laura, Mrs. White," Dr Williamson says with genuine concern in her voice. "Please take a seat..."

"Thank you," mum says, whilst I keep my head lowered in shame.

"Obviously the hospital has shared details or your diagnosis with me," Dr Williamson explains. "Laura... You need to know that in these sessions you can discuss ANYTHING with me, even if it's not related to issues concerning your gender identity. If you were having problems with your body image, then you needed to tell me about this. I can't help you unless you tell me what's going on."

"I understand," I whisper.

"When did you start feeling the way you did about your weight?" Dr Williamson asks me.

"Shortly after my dad..." I say, trailing off as my mouth is physically unable to form the word 'kidnap'. "I thought that if maybe I DIDN'T grow to be big and strong, if I could stay, umm, 'petite', it'd help me be a girl... Because I'm not getting oestrogen..."

"Oestrogen is the last thing you need right now," Dr Williamson says. "I know you think it will help, but trust me when I say it'd only make matters worse. It's a treatment designed to effectively rewrite your brain chemistry, and that's completely out of the question whilst you're still unsettled like this. But I can help you get better."

"Better to the point where I'll be able to have oestrogen?" I ask.

"Maybe," Dr Williamson says with a smile. "And that may be within months. But it'll be hard work, Laura. I can't do this by myself, you need to work with me to get to a place where you're happy with yourself, where you're mentally ready for oestrogen."

"...And if I can't?" I ask.

"You CAN," mum urges, supportively squeezing my hand.

"If you set yourself a target and work to it, it can act as something you can focus on, a goal you can work towards," Dr Williamson advises.

"Like my birthday in November?" I ask.

"It's ambitious, but okay," Dr Williamson says. "You also need to make sure that you don't miss any further appointments, not a single one, no matter the reason."

"I'll make sure she attends," mum says.

"I want to help you get better, Laura," Dr Williamson explains. "I want to be able to prescribe you the oestrogen you so badly want... But I want you to be ready when I do so. Together, I'm sure we can make it." I force a smile on my face as my counsellor further explains my treatment plan, the steps I'll need to take, such as writing down all my anxieties, keeping a log of everything I eat to make sure I'm getting the right nutrients, and a whole load of other homework I'll need to do over the coming few months. I feel overwhelmed as I leave the office an hour later- but I leave with the knowledge that I have taken the first step toward recovery, and more importantly, the first step toward oestrogen.

I arrive home just after 3:30pm exhausted and hoping for a quiet night. When I open my front door, however, I'm greeted by an unexpected- but welcome surprise.

"Welcome home!" Nicole, Megan, Priya, Suriya, Harriet and Ashley all yell simultaneously, whilst holding a banner that reads 'Welcome Home Laura'. I'm immediately swamped in a group hug that only ends when my mum breaks it up, and I spend the next three hours gossiping about school, dance and the play. My part in the play is still up in the air- especially as I won't be able to go to rehearsals on Monday or drama club on Tuesday- but even if I do lose the role, at least that'll mean that Harriet will get the chance to act in my place- and there'll always be Romeo & Juliet next year. My place on the gymnastics team, however, is on shakier ground- especially considering that it was gymnastics club on Wednesday that contributed to my collapse.

My friends gradually depart after a light dinner, with Megan being the last to leave just after 7pm. As she goes to leave, I give her a long hug that leaves the bespectacled girl confused.

"Um, what's this for?" Megan asks.

"For ratting me out about the laxatives," I laugh. "Thank you... Guess I needed a kick up the arse, heh."

"Well, any time you need one of those," Megan laughs.

"You are my absolute bestest friend," I say, giving Megan another hug, before she wriggles free, leaving the house with a massive smile on her face.

"I wish I had friends like yours when I was thirteen," mum laughs as I plop myself down the sofa, my strength still at an all-time low.

"I know, I'm so lucky..." I sigh, before my mind turns to one special friend who WASN'T here this afternoon. "Mum... You DID call Phil’s parents, didn't you?"

"I did," mum reassures me. "We definitely didn't get a message from him though. Hang on, I'll check my voicemail..." Mum listens to the phone for a few minutes, before looking at me with a quizzical look on her face. "We did get a message, but it's not from Phil, it's from your dance teacher, and she wants you to call her..."

"Umm, okay, probably to see if I'm okay," I say as mum hands me the phone and I hit redial.

"Hello?" The familiar voice of Miss Fullerton comes down the phone.

"Miss Fullerton?" I ask, prompting a relieved laugh from my dance teacher.

"Laura, thank god!" The young woman sighs. "You scared the SHIT out of me on Wednesday night... Are you feeling better now? Are you home?"

"Yeah, I got home this afternoon," I say. "I'm sorry I caused such a fuss..."

"Believe me, it's no fuss," Miss Fullerton says. "When I was your age I was in and out of hospital with my asthma and my allergies... I HAD called hoping to pass on a phone number for you to call, but as luck would have it, the person who REALLY wants to talk to you is stood right next to me now..." The phone briefly goes quiet, before a different woman's voice starts speaking.

"Hello?" The young-sounding woman asks. "Is that Laura?"

"Yes," I say cautiously.

"Hi, I don't know if you remember me, but we've been communicating by email over the last few months," the woman says. "I'm Nikki, Nikki Thomas." My eyes go wide as I realise precisely who I'm talking to- the girl who is my favourite columnist from my favourite teen magazine, and who, like me, was born into the wrong gender at birth.

"Oh my god!" I squeak. "I'm such a huge fan of yours! Thank you so much for calling!"

"Krystie- sorry, 'Miss Fullerton'- tells me you've been in hospital- is everything okay now?" Nikki asks.

"I'm getting better," I say. "I LOVED your last column about your baby sister..."

"Thanks!" Nikki says with an uneasy laugh. "I'm just calling to make sure you're okay... In your emails you said you've been frustrated because you've not yet been prescribed oestrogen."

"Yeah," I sigh. "It's such a pain... All my friends have started puberty, and I haven't... I feel like a freak."

"Believe me, I know how you feel," Nikki says softly. "I didn't even start anti-androgens until I was sixteen... Some nights I'd actually cry myself to sleep, I was that desperate to become a girl. And do you know what happened then?"

"What happened?" I ask.

"I became a girl," Nikki laughs. "And you will too. I know it feels like you'll always be stuck in limbo, but trust me when I say good things do come to people who are willing to wait for them. You're thirteen now, right?"

"Yeah," I reply.

"I'm willing to bet the five years from now, you'll be a beautiful, girly megastar," Nikki says. "I've got to head off now- me and a few of the girls are off on a night out, which yes, you'll be welcome to come on in five years' time, assuming you're not too rich and famous for us by then! But any time you need help or you're feeling down, just give me a call."

"Oh- really, you don't have to give me your number," I say, shaking at the prospect of my idol treating me as though I were another of her friends.

"I want to," Nikki says. "I was lucky in that I had a friend, a 'mentor' who helped me with my transition... I want to do the same for you. What you've been through over the last twelve months really sucks, and if there's anything I can do to help make things better, anything at all, you just call, okay?"

"Okay!" I say, my face covered in the widest smile I've had in months.

"Talk soon, Laura!" Nikki beams as she clicks off the phone. I lay back on the sofa, still exhausted but also exhilarated. In hiding my problems, my anxieties, I ended up literally hurting myself. from what Dr Hanley said, I'm lucky I didn't caused any permanent damage to my organs with my laxatives, and it could all have been avoided if I'd just sought out the help of the people who love me. And they DO love me and care about me... Even people who have never even met me, like Nikki, or people who I only know in a 'professional' capacity, like Miss Fullerton, Dr Williamson or my teachers.

I head up to bed at 9pm, but before getting into bed, I reach under my bed, looking for my laxative pills. Unsurprisingly, they're all gone, but I have one secret stash in the back of my wardrobe, and when I check on them, they're still all there. After taking a deep breath, I head into the bathroom, where I carefully punch each tablet out of its packaging... And flush them all down the toilet. I don't need tablets to make myself feel better, I only need people.

I have all the things I need in my life to be happy... I only wish I'd realised this sooner. But like grandma said, as long as I learn from my mistake and don't repeat it. That's what important. And this is a mistake I am NEVER making again.

“As this is the final day of the school year,” Mrs. Hall announces, “you have a choice of whatever sport you want to do for the next hour- athletics, netball, tennis or gymnastics.” I grin as I glance sideway at Nicole, Suriya and Harriet- they’ve clearly had the same idea as me.

“Two years down, three to go,” Nicole giggles as she, Suriya and I pull on our stretchy purple leotards, whilst Harriet changes into her shorts & t-shirt.

“Maybe next year, you’ll actually join the gymnastics club and get yourself one of these,” Suriya says to Harriet whilst snapping the stretchy fabric of her leotard.

“Heh, not really my thing,” Harriet giggles. “And before you say that I do ballet, need I remind you that they’re completely different? Besides, my bum looks stupid in a leotard…”

“There ARE things you can do about that,” Nicole says with a knowing smile.

“As long as you do them sensibly,” I say, prompting an awkward silence. It’s been almost three months since my ‘incident’, when I collapsed during my ballet lesson, but it’s clear that my friends are still traumatised by the experience.

A few days after my hospitalisation, my diagnosis of bulimia nervosa was confirmed- and you can’t begin to understand the level of shame with which that filled me. Ever since I started my transition, I’ve felt like I’ve gone around with a sign above my head that read ‘abnormal’. Thanks to my friends and my family, that sign has, over the months, shrunk and shrunk to the point where it’s virtually invisible. After I got out of hospital, the ‘sign’ returned, bigger than ever.

My family, of course, was as supportive as they could possibly be. Mum ensured that I was comfortable during my recovery (I was off school the whole week following my stay in hospital), and grandma stopped by almost every day to ensure that I was happy and, more importantly, well-fed. At least one of my friends dropped by every night after school to keep me company, and I even had a surprise visit from Nikki Thomas, who brought along two friends in the shape of Jamie-Lee Burke- probably the most famous transgendered woman in the UK- and Steph Abbott, a member of the new girl band ‘Out of Heaven’, who I hadn’t heard of at the time but who have quickly become one of my (and my friends’) favourite bands. I literally could not have been more loved… And yet the stigma retained. I will never ‘not have had’ an eating disorder, no matter how ‘normal’ my eating patterns get.

…And they’re STILL not back to normal. After I flushed away my laxatives- which was the easy party, especially following the revelation that they don’t actually aid weight loss- I would get regular, extra-painful stomach cramps. Whilst I returned to school quickly enough, it would take almost a month for my digestive ‘rhythm’ to return to normal, during which I didn’t attend ballet class, or the school’s gymnastics or dance clubs. I didn’t even attend PE lessons, I was in so much discomfort most days, which meant, of course, that my weight slowly started to increase, further deepening my depression. Almost three months after my hospital trip, I’m still unable to fully finish a meal, no matter how hard my family tries to force the food down me.

The one positive school thing that I was able to hold on to, however, was my acting. I resumed drama club the week I returned to school, and as I only missed one rehearsal and one drama club, I was able to keep my place in the play. I had tried handing off the place to Harriet- my understudy- but she’d insisted that I take the place in the play. Our last performance was last week and the play went down a storm. My own performance was highly praised- the teachers and parents watching commented on how much fun I seemed to be having, and they were right- especially as I got to wear the gorgeous period costume, including the voluminous poodle skirt and extra-high heels.

I especially needed the high heeled shoes as my height still hasn’t changed a great deal. I am noticeably taller than I was on my twelfth birthday- the testosterone blockers don’t have THAT great an effect- but I’m still under five feet tall, whereas virtually all of my friends have passed that ‘milestone’. Nicole in particular is almost 5’ 4” already, having had a massive growth spurt during this school year. Dr Williamson still won’t prescribe me oestrogen, but she is happy with my progress- and more importantly, so am I.

Whilst I’ve been constantly supported by my family and friends throughout the school year, there is one person who has been conspicuous by his absence- and that’s Phil. The first time I saw him after leaving hospital was at the play rehearsal on the Monday I returned to school, and whilst I was pleased to see him, a very large part of me was angry at him for staying away. He later explained that he wasn’t comfortable around sick people- his brother had been in hospital a lot when he was younger, or something- but that just made me feel worse, that he saw me more as ‘a sick person’ rather than his girlfriend. Of course, we (literally) kissed and made-up later, but a part of me is still uneasy regarding our relationship- especially as Phil’s had his growth spurt and is now almost eight inches taller than me. It’s also clear that whilst he very much enjoys kissing me, he obviously wants ‘more’… And that’s not something I’m prepared to give at this point in time, especially as I’m still uncomfortable with virtually all kinds of physical contact.

“That was so cool!” Nicole gushes as she, Harriet, Suriya and I head back down from the gym to the toilet block that has become our own private changing room. The teachers are still unhappy that my friends change in here with me, but they have at least acknowledged that it’s not doing any harm, and my friends’ parents have all provided written consent to the school to allow them to keep changing with me.

“Can’t believe that’ll be our last gymnastics lesson for two months,” Suriya says as she strips out of her purple leotard whilst I pull my skirt and blouse back on top of my leotard. None of us are wearing tights today as it’s too hot, but we all pull on tiny white socks before putting on our flats.

“You three are so amazing at gymnastics,” Harriet enthuses. “It’s no wonder you’ve all been selected for the school team next year.” I smile as I’m reminded of this fact- my ‘illness’ had put my hear-earned place in next year’s team in jeopardy, but I worked hard in the remaining few club meetings of the year and just about scraped back into the team- on the understanding that if I miss any more club meetings, I’ll be immediately ejected from the team.

Whilst I worked my way back onto the gymnastics team, I wasn’t so lucky with dance club, as I’m reminded when Nicole & Suriya pull on their baby blue club leotards and tight black shorts. The club was rehearsing for a routine to be performed at the final school assembly this afternoon. I missed four rehearsals in a row, therefore I was unceremoniously ejected from the troupe. It’s some consolation to know that I wasn’t the only one- one of the year 10 girls was ejected after breaking her ankle- but my ‘ejection’ was entirely my own fault… And was completely avoidable if only I’d been a little more sensible.

Nonetheless, I have a smile on my face as I sit down at our normal lunch table, a smile that only widens as I feel the rough wooden texture of the bench brush against the backs of my bare, smooth legs.

“Soooo,” Nicole says with a smile, turning to the only member of our group. “How does it feel? One year down, four to go…”

“It feels good!” Ashley says with a smile. “It’ll be good coming back next year knowing I’m not the youngest in the school any more…”

“Your birthday was May,” Suriya laughs, linking her fingers with Ashley’s. “You’re hardly the youngest in your year…”

“Unless you want us to adopt ANOTHER year 7 next year for you to ‘lord over’!” Priya giggles.

“’Lord Ashley Moore’,” Harriet chuckles. “I like it, it has a nice ring to it!”

“’Lady Ashley Moore’ is better, though,” Suriya says just quiet enough for no one outside our table to hear.

“Definitely,” Ashley sighs happily.

“Enjoy being the youngest whilst it lasts,” Priya laughs. “Next year I’m starting my GCSEs… You’ll all be choosing your subjects before too long!”

“God,” Megan sighs. “I’ve no idea what I want to do…”

“I know exactly what I’ll be doing,” Nicole says confidently. “Dance, drama, PE, English literature, Spanish, French.”

“Same here,” I say. “All six of those.”

“And here!” Suriya giggles.

“What are you doing next year?” Harriet asks the oldest girl of our group.

“Economics,” Priya replies. “Double maths...”

“Our father’s got it into his head that Priya’s going to be an accountant when she’s older,” Suriya says.

“And…” Harriet says. “What do YOU want, Priya?”

“Being an accountant would be okay,” Priya shrugs. “I’m good at maths, it’d be easy work, good money…”

“But what do you. Want. To do?” Harriet persists, making the older girl sigh.

“…I don’t know,” Priya moans. “I mean, I’m only fourteen, for god’s sake, I- I just want to have some fun…”

“’Girls just wanna have fun’…” Nicole, Suriya and I all sing simultaneously, making Priya snort loudly with laughter. After lunch, the seven of us head together to the vast sports hall for the assembly. It’s the only opportunity we have all year to walk to ‘class’ together, even if we do split off from each other shortly afterwards as Nicole and Suriya go to get changed for their routine, whilst Priya and Ashley go and sit with their own year groups. After the assembly- and the routine, which of course goes flawlessly- the seven of us meet up in the car park for the final time until September. Despite the disapproving stares of our teachers, the seven of us share a mercifully brief group hug before going our separate ways. Even though we’ll be seeing each other loads over the holidays (at ballet tomorrow night at the very latest) it’s still an emotional moment watching all my friends get into their parents’ respective cars, especially Megan- we normally hang out on Tuesday nights to help each other with homework, but with there not being any more school, there’s obviously no homework that needs doing.

“Missing them already?” Mum asks as I let out a long sigh upon climbing into her car.

“Yeah,” I sigh.

“Just wait until you get to the end of Year 11,” mum laughs. “I’ll make sure to stock up on Kleenex!”

“God,” I laugh. “I don’t even want to THINK that far ahead… Just want to get home and relax.”

“You’ve more than earned it after this year you’ve had,” mum says softly. “Which is why I’ve got a bit of a surprise waiting for you at home…” My eyebrows raise at this news, but despite my pleading, mum won’t divulge the nature of the surprise, so as I walk through my front door, I’m literally shaking with excitement. I step into the living room, expecting to see a present on the sofa, but what I instead see is very different. There, sat on the sofa in his military fatigues, is my brother Ricky. I briefly gasp with shock as he silently stares at me, before running toward him and wrapping him in as tight a hug as my tiny arms can manage.

“Careful!” Ricky laughs, gently returning my hug. “Can you try hugging me and not strangling me, please?”

“Sorry,” I giggle girlishly, releasing Ricky before sitting down next to him. “What are you doing back?”

“I’m on leave,” Ricky laughs. “It’s your summer holiday, this is when I usually take leave. It ain’t easy getting leave over summer either, especially as I don’t have any kids of my own…”

“Well it IS good to see you,” I chuckle.

“Good god, miracles will never cease!” Mum laughs. “Laura actually pleased to see her big brother!”

“After last summer…” I say, before taking a deep breath. “Yeah, you’ve pretty much got a ‘lifetime pass’ for what you did.”

“Good,” Ricky says, sitting forward. “I intend to exploit that ‘lifetime pass’ as much as I can these next few days.”

“Just don’t exploit it TOO much,” mum cautions. “What do you want for dinner tonight?”

“I thought I’d take us all out somewhere tonight,” Ricky says. “Maybe for an Indian or a Chinese. My treat.”

“You don’t need to do that,” mum says. “Besides, you’ve only just got here, take some time to make yourself comfortable, get settled in.” You especially don’t need to do it considering how fatty the food is from all the local takeaways, I think to myself.

“I’ve been settled in this house for the last ten years,” Ricky laughs. “Seriously, let me do something, at least order a takeaway in?”

“Well, okay,” mum concedes. Dammit! I think to myself. “Shall we eat around 6?”

“Sounds good,” Ricky says, before turning his attention to me. “You gonna spend the whole evening in your uniform, or are you thinking of changing at some point?”

“Gi- give me a break, I only just got home,” I moan.

“Yep,” Ricky says. “That’s usually the time you get changed, isn’t it?” I take a deep breath, immediately recognising Ricky’s line of questioning as one of the ‘tactics’ he’s always used in the past to get a rise out of me. In a way it’s comforting to know he’s as comfortable teasing me as his sister as he was teasing me as his brother, especially as in addition to being a better gender, I’m now older and just a little bit wiser to his little tricks.

“Okay,” I say, throwing my hands up in defeat. “I’ll go and change.”

“What, and just leave me alone here on the sofa?” Ricky asks, making me internally scream with frustration. In previous years, that scream would have been very much external, and would only have made Ricky laugh like an idiot. The more I screamed and cried, the more Ricky laughed. Well that’s not going to happen today!

“Yes, yes I am going to ‘just leave you alone on the sofa’,” I say with a sweet smile as I head up to my bedroom where I slip off my skirt, blouse and leotard and put them in the washing basket, chuckling yet again at how it’ll be six weeks before I wear them again. After pulling on a comfortable short-sleeved pink dress, I pause before heading downstairs, and spend a few minutes painting my fingernails a soft pink colour. After my nails have dried, I put on a light layer of pink lipstick, followed by a thick layer of mascara, before exchanging my gold studs for a pair of dangly earrings that complement my dress and make-up. Finally, I slip on a handful of my favourite bracelets and brush out my hair, giggling at the clattering sound made by the inexpensive plastic jewellery, before heading downstairs a full twenty minutes after ‘just leaving Ricky alone on the sofa’.

“Good job we’re not going out tonight,” Ricky sighs as I sit down at the opposite end of the sofa. “You’ve have spent the whole time we were eating just getting ready…” I giggle girlishly as Ricky starts ordering our dinner on his smartphone. About an hour later, several foil containers full of piping-hot oriental food arrive at our door, and mum, Ricky and I all tuck in. The one good thing about a takeaway spread like this is that there’s no pressure on me to finish my food, though I make sure to eat until I feel full, which obviously doesn’t take that long.

“Come on,” Ricky urges as I lay my chopsticks back down on my plate. “I paid good money for this, don’t let it go to waste!”

“I’m full,” I complain.

“You’ve hardly touched anything,” Ricky laughs.

“Ricky,” mum says, the tone of her voice making it clear that she was issuing a warning.

“What?” Ricky protests. “I know Laura’s had her problems the last few months, but she’s not going to get over them by shying away from them.” Mum sighs, before lowering her head.

“You have only eaten a very small amount,” mum says, making me groan internally.

“Well I AM very small,” I retort, making mum frown.

“You won’t grow if you don’t eat,” Ricky says.

“I know, I know,” I say. “I just don’t want to make myself sick…”

“I’ll hold your mouth shut while you swallow,” Ricky offers, earning another stern glare from mum that, for the first time ever, actually shuts him up. I take a deep breath before picking my chopsticks back up and gripping a piece of the sticky, fatty chicken between them. I grimace slightly as I put the food in my mouth, but after much chewing, I finally swallow it, much to the relief of my mother and brother. I ignore their proud smiles as I pick at the food for the rest of the evening, before eventually heading to bed just after 10pm, my belly bloated from the food but my mind proud that I was able to stuff so much into my abused digestive system.

I wake up the following morning just after 8:45am, still slightly sluggish from my bloated stomach but eager and ready to start my hard-earned summer holiday. After taking my boy blocker, I dress for the day- as I have ballet later today, I pull on one of my tiny thongs, followed by my training bra, a small pair of denim shorts and a pink tank top. After applying a light layer of make-up, including darker lipstick than last night, I head downstairs to find mum and Ricky already awake and waiting for me.

“Typical teenager,” Ricky snorts as I sit down, smirking as I always do when I sit down whilst wearing a thong.

“This is still about two hours earlier than you used to get up when you were thirteen!” Mum laughs. “Laura, what have you got planned for today?”

“I dunno,” I reply. “I’ll see what the girls are up to, but I’ll be seeing them tonight at ballet anyway…”

“How’s your ballet coming along?” Ricky asks. “Do you still go to that school where I disgraced myself two years ago?”

“Yep, the same one,” I say, smiling smugly at Ricky’s ‘disgrace’ even if he is making light of it.

“Can you do that trick that ballerinas do where they balance on the ends of their toes?” Ricky asks.

“Pointe work?” I reply. “Not yet, but I’m not that far off.”

“Yet more dancewear I’ll have to buy,” mum jokes, making both myself and Ricky laugh.

“Ah, you didn’t complain when you bought my army cadet gear,” Ricky jokes.

“Trust me, I did!” Mum says, earning more laughs from Ricky and myself.

“Well,” Ricky says, turning to me, “if you’re not doing anything else today, I can take you for a haircut if you want?”

“Oh- don’t start this again,” mum moans.

“My hair doesn’t need cutting,” I say firmly.

“Cutting isn’t the only thing they do during a ‘haircut’,” Ricky says smugly.

“I’m still not interested,” I say.

“How about,” Ricky says, “you agree to let me take you for a haircut, and I promise that your hair won’t be shortened by any more than an inch?”

“Doesn’t seem like there’s much point in having it cut, then,” mum says.

“Yeah, well like I said,” Ricky says. “It’s not just ‘cutting’ they’ll be doing. Anything you don’t like, you can have undone.”

“Well, okay,” I guess, making Ricky nod and smile smugly. Two years ago, the prospect of a haircut- or whatever Ricky has planned- would have chilled me to the bone, but this clearly isn’t the same obnoxious idiot from that time… As proved two hours later when I step out of the unisex hairdresser Ricky took me to. It turns out that the hairdresser he took me to see is the sister of one of his squad mates, who heard about my ordeal last summer and asked Ricky if there was anything she could do- and the answer was ‘yes’.

“This is so cool,” I laugh as the gentle breeze blows my hair around my head- hair which has had twelve-inch long extensions weaved into it.

“Glad you approve,” Ricky says. “Obviously you’ll have to remove them before you go back to school, but I figured that for the rest of the summer…”

“Thank you, thank you so much!” I squeak, giving Ricky another quick hug, much to his embarrassment.

“Yeah, you’re welcome, just not in public, okay?” My brother laughs.

“I can’t wait to show the girls this,” I laugh. “And Phil…” I grimace slightly as Ricky bristles at the mention of my boyfriend.

“Oh, whatever,” I snort. “You had girlfriends when you were thirteen, didn’t you?”

“Well- yes,” Ricky concedes. “I wouldn’t want you turning out like any of them, though! Doubt any of them were still virgins by their fifteenth birthday…”

“Yeah, well I’m more sensible than them,” I retort. “Which means I’m MORE, you know, ‘suitable’ for having a boyfriend!”

“Yeah- Laura…” Ricky sighs. “You’re still a thirteen year old girl who looks eleven, AND- and this isn’t meant as an insult, just a fact- you’re still getting used to being a girl, even though it’s been two years now. Combine that with your troubles over the past year… I AM worried about you. Has ‘Phil’ started puberty yet?”

“I think so,” I shrug. “He’s a month older than me, so he’ll be fourteen in three months’ time, his voice is certainly deeper than it was this time last year.”

“Yeah, take it from someone who’s been there and done that,” Ricky says. “He WILL pressure you into having sex before you’re ready.”

“Phil’s not like that-“ I argue, before being cut off.

“No, trust me, he WILL,” Ricky insists. “Obviously the law says you can’t have sex until you’re sixteen, but- whatever, different people are ready at different times.”

“Don’t worry, I plan on waiting until I’m sixteen,” I say, realising immediately that Ricky DOES have a point.

“Good,” Ricky says. “Your boyfriend might be so willing, especially if he’s older than you- even if it is just by a month. Have you talked to him about it?”

“Umm, not really,” I say. “Mostly we just hang out together, kiss a bit…”

“Make sure that’s all you do,” Ricky cautions. “It’s bad enough you’re wearing clothing meant for an older teenager.”

“God knows what you’ll think about me wearing a thong,” I chuckle, making Ricky roll his eyes.

“I think the word I’m looking for is ‘horrified’,” Ricky sighs, making me chuckle harder as we head home, where Ricky drops me off before going to meet with some friends. As I enter the living room, however, my smile widens as I see an unexpected figure sat on my sofa- that of the boy Ricky and I were discussing mere minutes earlier.

“Hi Laura,” Phil says nervously, greeting me with a brief kiss. “I love your hair…”

“Thanks,” I say, twirling the blonde extensions in my finger. “Have you been here long?”

“Not long,” Phil says, before pausing as mum comes out of the kitchen, stopping in her tracks as she sees my new look.

“Oh, hi Laura,” mum says, greeting me as though I were a total stranger. “Where- are they hair extensions?”

“Yep!” I say happily. “Ricky took me to have them done. Like them?”

“Aren’t you a bit young for hair extensions?” Mum asks.

“Mum!” I retort. “I’m not a little kid, loads of other girls have had them, Nicole had extensions put in over Easter…”

“Okay, fine,” mum sighs. “Just- next time tell me before you make any changes to your body, okay?”

“Am I going to have to get your permission to wear make-up now too?” I ask, earning a VERY stern stare from my mum.

“Don’t push your luck, young lady,” mum cautions, silencing me as I sit down on the sofa next to Phil.

“Well, I like your hair,” Phil whispers, making me smile as mum disappears back into the kitchen. “Has it ever been that long before?”

“Nope,” I say with a smug smile. “But it will be, eventually.” My smile disappears as Phil’s hand slowly starts to stray toward my bare thigh, and I bristle as his cold fingers touch my warm skin. No… I think to myself. Please don’t prove Ricky right…

“Do- do you want a drink?” I ask, jumping off the sofa, which clearly disappoints Phil.

“Your mum was getting me a lemonade,” Phil says. “Don’t- don’t you like-“

“It’s…” I say, shivering a little. “Your fingers are a little cold, that’s all…” Phil chuckles, before breathing on his hands and rubbing them together, warming them up. When I sit back down, I again bristle as his fingers gently stroke the exposed skin of my leg. He obviously withdraws his hand as mum returns with our drinks, but I can’t get out of my head the thought that soon, he’ll ask me for something I really won’t want to give him…

Phil sticks around for another hour before being picked up by his mother, and, obviously, giving me a kiss goodbye as he leaves. Ricky arrives home just in time for dinner (which I am again unable to finish). Afterwards, I head upstairs- whilst still getting used to my new hair- and change into my pink tights and dark blue leotard for tonight’s ballet lesson. Ricky smiles at me as I head downstairs with my hair tied back into a ponytail, giggling as the extension tickle the bare spots of my back.

“Have fun,” my brother says. “Kinda wish I could go with you, but that’s probably not a good idea…” I can’t help but feel sorry for Ricky as he sits back on the sofa, watching TV with a disappointed look on his face.

“I- I could always vouch for you…” I offer.

“You vouched for him last time,” mum says quietly to me. “And your teacher DID say she’d call the police if he showed up again…”

“That was two years ago,” I retort. “You’ve seen how much he’s changed, surely?”

“Well-“ mum sighs. “Ask your teacher tonight if he can come along tomorrow.”

“He’s going out with friends tomorrow night,” I say.

“Honestly, don’t worry on my behalf,” Ricky says.

“No,” I say defiantly. “You did something nice for me today, it’s only fair that I do something nice for you.”

“…I’ll wait in the car until you okay it with your teacher then, I guess…” Ricky says as he follows myself and mum out to her car. When I arrive at the studio, I’m greeted by my six friends, all of whom coo over my new hair- especially Ashley, for obvious reasons.

“Hey girls!” Miss Fullerton says as she lets her previous class out of the studio. “Laura, I LOVE that new hair! Keep it tied down rather than in a bun, you don’t want your extensions flying out everywhere! Before you go in, I know you’ve only been on holiday for less than a day, but I wanted to strike while the iron’s hot- I’m running a summer school this year for my intermediate and advanced classes, and with all of you only a few weeks away from pointe shoes, I figure you might be interested? It’ll be 3 extra classes a week for three weeks, and you can spread those classes over the summer so they don’t clash with your holidays.”

“I’ll have to talk to my mum about this,” Megan says, before putting Miss Fullerton’s flyer in her dance bag.

“Well I’m in!” Nicole happily exclaims.

“Me too!” Suriya squeaks. “So’s Priya!”

“Do I get a say in this, then?” Priya asks, rolling her eyes as she follows her sister and the other girls into the studio.

“Miss Fullerton,” I say, making the tall woman pause before heading to her class.

“What is it, Laura?” Miss Fullerton asks. “I know the summer classes aren’t cheap, but-“

“My- my brother’s out in the car,” I say nervously. “He wants to know if he can watch the lesson.” Miss Fullerton’s face darkens as she remembers the last time Ricky set foot in the studio- and it’s easy to understand her reluctance.

“He IS the one who rescued me last summer,” I say as the teacher remains silent. “He’s the one who got me these extensions… He really has changed, I promise.”

“I’m taking your word for it, Laura,” Miss Fullerton says. “If he misbehaves, even slightly, you BOTH leave, okay?”

“Okay!” I say with a smile, returning a few seconds later with my mother and brother in tow. True to his word, Ricky sat down in one of the chairs provided and remained silent through the whole lesson, watching me as I performed my steps. Most of the steps our class is doing right now are designed to prepare us for pointe shoes and our next exam, so there’s no real opportunity to ‘perform’, but after the lesson I sneak one of Miss Fullerton’s practice tutus out of her closet and step into it, performing a quick routine to the delight of my mother and brother… And to the delight of my teacher, who surprises me mid-routine with a cough, causing me to stumble.

“It’s not that I mind you pinching my tutus,” Miss Fullerton laughs, “it’s just that I didn’t expect you to be the least well-behaved White sibling this evening!” I blush as I step out of the tutu, and much to my surprise, Ricky blushes as well.

“Yeah,” Ricky grimaces. “I, um, I wanted to apologise for the way I acted when I was last here, I was a twat, I was inappropriate… I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Miss Fullerton says with a smug smile. “You know, my adult beginner class has a few spaces, especially for male students…”

“Ehh… Not my thing,” Ricky grimaces. “Besides, it’d be awkward as I live and work in North Yorkshire. The commute…” A smile creeps onto Ricky’s face as Miss Fullerton playfully giggles at his joke. “I could always make it up to you some other way, if you’d like?” I let out a small giggle as Miss Fullerton smiles smugly at Ricky, before turning to the tall, long-haired man who’d just walked into the studio- who I immediately recognise as her long-term boyfriend- and greeting him with a long, deep kiss.

“See you tomorrow night, girls!” Miss Fullerton says as she locks the studio behind us and gets in her boyfriend’s car.

“Wow, that was an EPIC crash and burn!” I tease Ricky.

“Shut up,” Ricky snorts, before getting into mum’s car and driving home. After doing yet more dance steps at home for Ricky, I head to bed just after 9pm to rest ahead of a busy day tomorrow.

I wake up at 8am after a dreamless sleep, and after showering- taking extra care with my new hair extensions- I pull on a clean thong and training bra, smirking at the idea that I might get to wear a thong all week if I attend Miss Fullerton’s summer school. After applying a similar amount of make-up to yesterday (and touching up my nail polish), I pull on a clean tank top and a short black denim skirt before heading downstairs to find mum alone in the kitchen.

“Oh, PLEASE tell me I’m up before Ricky,” I say.

“No, he went out early,” mum says. “What time do you want me to drop you round to Nicole’s?”

“Umm, if we go just after nine it should be okay,” I say as I finish my breakfast, actually feeling disappointed that I’m not going to get to ‘spar’ with my brother before going out. My disappointment soon vanishes, however, as I’m dropped outside Nicole’s posh house, where I’m greeted with a brief hug from the brown-haired girl herself.

“Hey Laura!” Nicole squeaks as she leads me into her living room. “I can’t wait to play with that hair… And I love that skirt!”

“Thanks!” I giggle as I plop down on Nicole’s huge sofa, whilst she gets her make-up and hair kits.

“I can’t believe your brother!” Nicole shouts. “It’s like he’s a whole new person!”

“Speaking of,” I ask, “where are your brother and sister?”

“Got rid of them,” Nicole says smugly. “Mum and dad have taken them to Legoland for the day, so the house is all mine!”

“Really?” I ask. “They don’t mind leaving you home alone?”

“Oh whatever,” Nicole snorts. “I’m thirteen, I’m not a little kid. They’re more worried about the house than about me, and so they should be!”

“Well- okay,” I say, excited but also nervous at the prospect of being alone without an adult presence. Before long, the rest of our friends arrive, and it doesn’t take long for me to realise the REAL reason Nicole got rid of her parents, as Ashley coolly strolls down the stairs wearing a short blue dress and bright pink lipstick. At least… I think that’s the real reason, as when we’re all congregated in the living room, Nicole doesn’t waste any time in letting us all know exactly how we’ll be having fun today.

“Now that all the girls are finally here,” Nicole says, making Ashley giggle, “how about a little bit of ‘heavenly’ music?” All of us giggle even harder as Nicole loads up Out of Heaven’s debut single ‘Heaven is a Place on Earth’ on her iPad, and as has become tradition, Nicole, Suriya, Megan, Harriet and I recreate the dance routine for the song, much to the delight of Priya and Ashley.

We spend the rest of the morning gossiping, listening to music and playing with Nicole’s vast make-up collection, before eating lunch at around 12pm. Just as we’re about to eat, the doorbell rings, much to the surprise of everyone except Nicole.

“I asked Jordan to come round,” Nicole explains with a shrug- but a quick look to my right reveals that this is a much bigger deal than the brown-haired girl realises.

“Nicole,” Suriya hisses quietly. “He doesn’t know about Ashley!”

“So?” Nicole asks. “We’ll just say that she’s another girl.”

“He knows Ashley from school!” I say, angry at Nicole’s disregard for Ashley’s privacy.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind changing,” Ashley says, though the tone of her voice makes it plain just how disappointed she would be if she did have to change back into ‘boy mode’.

“You wouldn’t be able to change back in time,” Suriya says. “Jordan’s already here, he’ll be suspicious as to where you’ve been this whole time.” Another ring from the doorbell sends Ashley into near-panic, before the always level-headed Priya takes control of the situation.

“Ashley, Suri, Laura, go upstairs to Nicole’s bedroom,” Priya says. “You can wait up there until Jordan leaves.” Nicole opens her mouth to protest, but shuts it again when she realises that she’s the reason we’re in this situation in the first place.

“Why do I have to go up there as well?” I ask as I follow Suriya and Ashley out of the kitchen.

“Because I’m not leaving my sister alone with her boyfriend!” Priya laughs.

“If you were that worried you’d go up here yourself,” I mutter under my breath as the three of us shut ourselves in Nicole’s extra-girly pink bedroom. In many ways, it’s similar to mine- only it’s a lot bigger. Ashley, Suriya and I entertain ourselves by reading some of Nicole’s old magazines before heading back downstairs when Jordan leaves just after 3pm- by which point all three of are starving after having skipped lunch. I in particular am in a lot of pain- any slight change to my eating pattern results in a lot of discomfort in my still-recovering digestive system, and Nicole’s enthusiastic tales of her upcoming holiday are the last thing I need to hear right now.

I eventually leave Nicole’s house about an hour later, still in a lot of stomach pain, and am given a lift home by Megan’s parents.

“Are you okay?” The bespectacled girl asks me as we speed away from Nicole’s house. “Only you skipped lunch, and you know you shouldn’t do that…”

“I’ll be fine,” I sigh, though my heavy breathing is an obvious giveaway that I’m lying.

“I can’t believe Nicole,” Megan spits. “AND Priya, she should’ve known that you can’t skip meals…”

“Oh, whatever,” I laugh. “They’re both going on holiday soon, and besides, you’re my REAL best friend anyway!” Megan giggles happily as we head home, where I try to disguise my discomfort from my mum as she makes me dinner before ballet. However, despite my hunger, I’m still unable to finish the plateful of food put in front of me, leaving me feeling tired and weak ahead of tonight’s class.

“Hey girlies!” Nicole happily squeaks as I arrive at the class with Megan and Harriet in tow. I force a smile on my face despite being tired and in pain and in no mood to deal with Nicole’s eternal optimism as I head into the dance studio. When I emerge sixty minutes later, my smile is entirely gone.

“Not long to go to pointe shoes!” Nicole happily squeaks as she pulls her flimsy dance skirt back on.

“So cool,” Priya laughs. “Can’t believe it’s taken nearly two years…”

“Just wish Ashley could join in with us,” Suriya says, lowering the tone of the conversation- but, annoyingly, not lowering Nicole’s smile.

“Well,” the brown-haired girl says smugly, “he’ll just have to tell his parents who SHE really is, won’t SHE?”

“Or she could just wait for you to nearly accidentally out her again,” I remark, earning a dark stare from Nicole.

“I’ve apologised to Ashley for that,” Nicole says firmly. “Just goes to show how much of a girl she is that sometimes I forget about her as much as I forget about you!” And my stomach… I think to myself. Once the six of us are changed, we meet up with Ashley before heading out of the studio, to be greeted by an unexpected face.

“Hi Laura, Hi Laura’s friends,” Ricky says. “Mum’s asked me to take you home today.” I initially smile, but my smiles falls as Ricky’s eyes suddenly dart toward Ashley, who’s stood at the back of our group.

“Oh hey,” Ricky says. “Didn’t realise you had boys at your class.”

“You leave him alone!” Suriya says defiantly, wrapping her arm around Ashley’s shoulders.

“Oh what, is she your girlfriend?” Ricky asks, making me cringe.

“YES,” Suriya says, planting a long kiss on Ashley’s reddening cheek.

“Oh, well done mate,” Ricky says with a tone of genuine respect. “Wish I’d known about dance classes when I was young and single… Come on, get in.” Megan, Harriet and I climb into the car, waving at our friends as Ricky drives us away.

“You’ve got to respect that,” Ricky chuckles. “Dressing like a wally to impress girls…”

“He does not look like a wally!” I protest.

“Ashley ‘impresses’ us just for being who he is,” Harriet says. “And besides, he was going out with Suriya BEFORE he started at ballet.”

“Yeah, but he does ballet to keep going out with her, right?” Ricky asks.

“No,” Megan sneers. Ricky chuckles, but remains silent as he drops my two friends off, realising he’s not going to win an argument against three teenaged girls.

“Sorry if I touched a nerve by saying that your friend looked stupid,” Ricky says. “I know that might be a bit sensitive for you, but then again, he IS a boy going to ballet, rather than a girl who used to be a boy, like you are.”

“Yeah…” I say. I open my mouth to speak further, to tell Ricky about Ashley’s ‘true self’, but after telling off Nicole for her earlier mistake, I remain silent- I don’t want to be a hypocrite, after all. An awkward silence fills the car, which is only broken by the grumbling of my still-sore stomach.

“You hungry?” Ricky asks.

“A little,” I complain. “Kinda skipped lunch today…”

“Oh for god’s sake,” Ricky sighs. “You know you’re not supposed to skip meals… I’m taking you to a drive-through, we’re going to get a McFlurry. And before you complain that you’ll gain weight, can I remind you that you’re far skinnier than either of the girls you rode home with tonight?”

“…A McFlurry would be nice,” I say, making Ricky smile as we detour to the nearest drive-through. I eat the cool treat on the way home, and whilst I don’t finish all of it, I eat more than enough to satisfy Ricky’s concern and settle my stomach. I try to forget about my falling-out with Nicole as I head to bed, quickly falling into a deep sleep.

I wake up at 8:30am and rub the tiredness out of my eyes, but I lay in bed for another half hour before eventually getting up. As much as I want to hang out with Nicole today to try to get rid of some of yesterday’s tension, I know that’s not an option- today’s the day she and her family leave for a two week holiday, as are Priya, Suriya and their family. After sending all three of them Facebook messages wishing them a good holiday, I switch off my tablet computer and swing my legs out of bed, before washing, applying my make-up and dressing for the day in a clean pair of panties, my trusty training bra and a loose, plain shirt dress.

“Yes, yes, whatever,” I say as I sit down next to Ricky at the breakfast table. “Teenager sleeping late…”

“Eh, it’s your holiday, if you want to sleep through the whole of it…” Ricky chuckles. ”What have you got planned for today? Apart from sleeping, I mean.”

“Got my counsellor’s meeting this afternoon,” I say. “Other than that, lazy day, I guess. Unless you want to take me to get even more hair extensions put in?”

“No he doesn’t,” mum says sternly as I play with my new hair. After breakfast, I head to the sofa, where I stretch out my tired body. My thoughts turn to Nicole, and how I nearly damaged that friendship a mere two days into the summer holiday, when the doorbell rings. All thoughts of Nicole- and anything else- fly out of my head when I open the door and look up at the person ringing the bell.

“Hello… Laura,” the old woman says. “May I come in?”

“Mum!” I yell, panic threatening to seep into my voice. “Mum!”

“What?” Mum asks as she rushes to the door. “Who is- oh. Hello, Caroline…”

“Hello Michelle,” the old woman says. “May I come in, please?” Mum silently nods and leads the woman into the living room, where Ricky stares at her, his mouth agape.

“G-Grandma?” Ricky asks.

“Hello Ricky!” Our grandmother says with a smile on her face. “This is so good, my whole family is here… Well, my whole family apart from my son, anyway.” Mum’s face darkens and my stomach begins to churn as my grandmother speaks. As should be obvious, the woman speaking isn’t my maternal grandmother- who’s supported my transition right from day one- but my paternal grandmother, my father’s mother, who neither Ricky nor I have seen in over a decade.

“What are you doing here, Caroline?” Mum asks, placing a protective hand on my shoulder.

“I’m here to see why my son had to be sentenced to seven years in prison,” grandma says, sitting down on the sofa with a stoic expression on her face.

“You know very well why,” Ricky says, folding his arms defiantly but still withering under the old woman’s gaze.

“Men don’t get imprisoned for doing what they feel is best for their child,” grandma argues, making my stomach tie itself in knots.

“No, they go to prison for breaking the law,” Ricky snaps. “Pretty sure that in 2014, child abduction was against the law.” Grandma remains silent as Ricky stands up to her, but she’s still clearly unhappy. She hasn’t said anything yet about what I’m wearing, though…

“I see,” grandma finally says. “Le-Laura, how old are you now?”

“Thirteen,” I answer. “Fourteen in November…”

“That’s more than old enough to make your own decisions,” grandma says. “Is it your decision to dress the way you are?”

“Of course,” I say. “I don’t ever want to dress as a boy again, not ever. I’m NOT a boy, I’m a girl!”

“Very well,” grandma says. “In that case, I must apologise for the actions of my son.” Grandma stands up and prepares to leave as mum, Ricky and I stand still, a look of near shock etched on our faces.

“Is- is that it?” Mum asks. “Caroline?”

“I visited Robert in prison last week,” grandma explains. “He explained that L- in his words, ‘Leon’ was being harmed by you forcing him – sorry, her- to live as a girl. Obviously, ‘Laura’ is still my grandchild and I still care about her wellbeing, so I had to come and see for myself.”

“The only thing that’s ‘harmed’ her over the last twelve months is Robert,” mum says. “Laura’s struggled with depression and bulimia ever since she was… Well, you know.”

“I can only apologise again,” grandma says.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Ricky says. “It’s not your fault Robert did what he did.” I wince a little as grandma glares at Ricky for using our father’s first name rather than calling him ‘dad’, but grandma’s glare quickly fades.

“Still,” grandma said. “I did raise him, I should have taught him respect for, well, ‘alternative’ people. Clearly I failed as a mother…”

“You’re a pretty good grandmother, though,” Ricky says, falling straight into grandma’s obviously guilt trap.

“That’s kind of you to say, Ricky,” grandma says with a smile.

“How long are you in London for, Caroline?” Mum asks.

“Well I live in Watford,” grandma explains. “I come into London regularly.”

“And you’ve never dropped by?” Ricky asks.

“Robert told me that you wouldn’t be interested in a visit from me,” grandma sighs. “Clearly I also raised him to be a liar…”

“I’m pretty sure being a dangerous sociopath is more nature than nurture,” Ricky said, actually making grandma laugh.

“Well you’re welcome to stay now,” mum says.

“Good,” grandma says, sitting back down. “There is actually something I want to discuss with you, Michelle. In private, if you don’t mind?”

“Laura, want to go swimming?” Ricky asks before I have a chance to argue.

“Um, with my extensions?” I ask.

“Ice skating, then,” Ricky says, leading me out of the living room and into mum’s car before I have a chance to argue.

“What- what do you suppose they’re discussing?” I ask. “What’s so important they have to get rid of us?”

“Compensation, hopefully,” Ricky says, handing me his phone. “Want to call your friends and see if they want to come skating too?”

“Sure,” I say. I start typing a number into the phone, and I actually surprise myself when the first phone number that springs to mind is Phil’s.

“Hello?” A middle-aged woman, who I instantly recognise as Phil’s mother, asks.

“Oh, hello Mrs. Brooks,” I ask. “Is Phil there, please? It’s Laura…”

“Oh, hello Laura,” Mrs. Brooks says. “I’ll just go and get him…” Before I can say ‘thank you’, Ricky grabs the phone from me and abruptly ends the call.

“What the hell?” I ask.

“I said ‘friend’, not ‘boyfriend’,” Ricky says. “I’ll supervise your friends but I’m not chaperoning a date!”

“FINE,” I sigh. “Can I at least log into Facebook on here so I can apologise for you hanging up like that?”

“Make it quick,” Ricky says in a near-growl. And here I was thinking he was accepting of me having a boyfriend…

After sending my message, I call Harriet, Megan and Ashley, but none of them are available, so I spend the next hour skating around an indoor ice rink with Ricky- who, annoyingly, is far better at ice skating than I am, frequently speeding off around the rink whilst I’m barely able to let go of the handrail at the side. Every time Ricky zips away, I feel a momentary sense of panic as I’m left all alone in the crowd- it was in exactly this type of situation that I was kidnapped this year. Fortunately, every time Ricky vanishes for a lap of the rink, he reappears mere seconds later, but I still have to fight the urge to hold his hand as we leave the rink and get back in mum’s car to head home.

Much to my surprise, when we arrive home, grandma is still there- and even more surprising, she gets in mum’s car (forcing me to get onto the back seat).

“Your grandmother will be coming with us to the meeting today,” mum announces as she also slides onto the back seat of the car.

“Umm, okay…” I say, but inside, I’m not happy- these meetings are supposed to be for my benefit, so surely I should get the final say in who does and doesn’t come along?

Nonetheless, when I enter Dr Williamson’s office, grandma accompanies us, shaking the counsellor’s hand and introducing herself as we sit down.

“I really like your hair, Laura,” Dr Williamson says with a smile as she ‘opens’ the session. “I take it that was a treat for the summer holidays?”

“Yeah, from Ricky,” I say, making my brother smile smugly.

“I’m glad to see that you’re both getting along well,” Dr Williamson says. “Support of a sibling may generally be seen as less important than support of a parent, but it really can make a difference. As can support of a grandparent… Mrs. White, may I ask why you wanted to accompany Laura today?”

“I’m sure you’re aware of the circumstances surrounding my son and my granddaughter,” grandma says.

“Yes, we’ve discussed it extensively in our sessions,” Dr Williamson confirms.

“Last week, I went to visit my son in prison,” grandma explains. “He explained his side of the story, and today I visited London to hear Laura’s side of the story. Obviously, I accept that my son was in the wrong. However, when I visited him, he did make one request- that I visit him again, but I bring Laura with me.” My stomach churns as grandma makes her request known- the thought of seeing dad again is literally making me feel sick.

“Laura,” Dr Williamson asks. “Do you want to see your father again?”

“No, never,” I say, making grandma sigh sadly.

“I don’t see that it would do any good,” Ricky says bluntly.

“He’s still your father, whether you choose to accept it or not,” grandma says, silencing my brother. “And it will do him good, force him to accept that you are his daughter, not his son.” I take a deep breath to try to calm my nerves, but every breath I take is shaky, such is my terror at the thought of seeing the man who abducted me.

“What he did was despicable,” mum argues. “He doesn’t deserve Laura’s love, or even her attention… But at the same time, there’s nothing he can do to harm her any more, not where he is.”

“Ultimately, this has to be Laura’s decision,” Dr Williamson says. “But if I were to make a recommendation… It would be to NOT go, at least not at this point in time.” I look over at grandma, and it’s clear that she doesn’t agree with the counsellor’s recommendation.

“But it IS Laura’s decision,” grandma insists.

“Laura’s recovery is at a critical phase,” Dr Williamson explains. “It’s important that she doesn’t over-exert herself emotionally. A confrontation with her father could cause a serious bout of depression, in extreme circumstances even a relapse of her bulimia. I’m quite satisfied that her ordeal last year was a main cause of her bulimia, which is why I would be extremely reluctant to let her see her father.”

“I’m… I’m going to have to think about this,” I say.

“Of course,” Dr Williamson says. “In the meantime, it’s also the summer holidays, in a few months’ time you’ll be starting Year 9- how does this make you feel?”

“Okay,” I say, before going into detail about all my hopes for the coming school year. I spend the next hour with Dr Williamson discussing the usual topics- school, my weight, my family- and end, as always, with a request for oestrogen pills, a request that is, as always, declined. The tone of Dr Williamson’s voice as we leave, though, strongly hints that my decision regarding whether or not to go and see my father will influence whether or not I get those precious pills sooner rather than later.

After a quick lunch at Subway- which I, of course, can’t finish- the four of us arrive back home. Grandma only stays another hour before heading back to her home in Watford, and Ricky leaves to go out with friends shortly afterward, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The day’s events are understandably exhausting, so I get an early night. When I wake up the following morning- after washing and dressing in a comfortable pink t-shirt and short denim skirt- I’m unsurprised to find Ricky at the breakfast table, but I am surprised when grandma- grandma White, my father’s mother- returns shortly after I finish breakfast.

“Hello Laura, Ricky,” grandma says as mum escorts her into the living room. “Have you made your decision yet, Laura?”

“Not yet,” I sigh. “I mean, I want to see him, confront him, but- I’m scared…”

“No child should be scared of their own father,” grandma tuts.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s more Robert’s fault than Laura’s,” Ricky says bluntly- and for once, grandma is forced to agree with him. “Actually,” my brother continues. “What were his exact words when he asked Laura to go and see him?”

“His exact words were ‘I want to see my son, to make sure that he’s not being turned into some kind of freak’,” grandma answers, making me feel sick to my stomach.

“Well then,” Ricky says. “Problem solved- his son WILL go and see him.”

“But I’m NOT his son,” I argue.

“No, no you’re not,” Ricky says with a smug smile. “But I am. I’ll go and see him, as his son, and tell him that he either accepts you or he can rot in prison forever.”

“He still wants to see Laura, though,” grandma says, making Ricky sigh, before his smug smile returns, wider than ever.

“Then I’ll take him along a photo album,” Ricky says. “I’ve got a camera on my phone, we’ll have a photoshoot today. Laura can wear her ballet uniform, her school uniform… We’ll make it clear to Robert that he does NOT have a say in the way she’s going to live her life.”

“Well- fine, I suppose,” grandma sighs, and it’s all I can do not to jump straight off the sofa and immediately change into the clothes Ricky mentioned. Nonetheless, I give Ricky a long, tight hug, deeply embarrassing the young man as he tries to push me away from him.

“Um, thanks, but no thanks,” Ricky laughs as I finally release him. “What was that for?”

“For getting me off the hook,” I laugh.

A short while later, after enhancing my make-up, of course, I change into virtually every outfit in my wardrobe one by one so that Ricky can photograph me for his ‘album’. I start with my freshly-washed school uniform, complete with hot, thick grey tights (that go straight back in the wash, much to mum’s dismay), followed by my gymnastics leotard, my ballet uniform (in which I perform a few steps, much to grandma’s amusement), my school swimming costume, some of the costumes I’ve worn at drama and some of my best dresses, finishing with the dress I wore to my ‘first date’ with Phil in February. I go to sit back down, exhausted from the ‘photoshoot’, before an idea pops into my head.

“Ricky,” I say, “can we go for a drive? I’ve thought of something else for your ‘album’…” Ricky looks at me quizzically, but agrees to take me out for a drive- though his face falls when he realises that I’m directing him to Phil’s house.

“Ugh,” Ricky moans as we pull up outside the posh residence. “Even I don’t want to see this…”

“Isn’t the whole point of the album to piss off dad?” I ask.

“It’s to try to bring him back to reality,” Ricky says.

“Yeah, well the reality is, Phil is my boyfriend,” I say. “I love him…”

“No, no you don’t,” Ricky says. “You’re thirteen, you haven’t even started puberty yet. Yes, I know that isn’t your fault, but don’t go throwing the ‘love’ word around until you’re older and you know what it means.” I snort and spend the rest of the trip in silence, but as we pull up outside Phil’s house, my heart begins to flutter at the thought of seeing the handsome young man and my hands begin to tremble. So much for not knowing what love means…

“Oh- hi Laura!” Phil says as he answers the front door. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing here?” I ask with a giggle. “I’m here to see you…”

“Umm, my sister and her fiancé are here,” Phil says. “And you’re wearing your ‘date dress’… I can’t really get away right now, I’m afraid…”

“This won’t take long,” I say, taking Phil’s hand and leading him to Ricky’s car, where my brother reluctantly shakes Phil’s hand.

“I’m sorry I hung up the phone on you yesterday,” Ricky says. “Ricky White, Laura’s older brother, and your worst nightmare if Laura ever comes to me cry-“

“Ricky!” I say, silencing my brother. “Phil, you know about… Well, about me and my dad, right?”

“Yes, of course,” Phil says. “What’s happened?”

“His mother- my grandmother- wants me to go and visit him in prison,” I explain, making Phil’s eyes go wide with concern.

“You’re not actually going, are you?” Phil asks.

“No, Ricky’s going in my place,” I say. “But he’s going to take along a photo album of me, well, ‘being a girl’. And that wouldn’t be complete with one of these pictures…” I lean in to Phil and give him a long, soft kiss, before looking at Ricky, who can barely stand to look at me.

“That’s your cue to take a photo,” I say to Ricky, who sighs and points his camera at myself and Phil as we kiss again. My knees begin to quiver as my lips part and Phil’s tongue enters my mouth. Once Ricky has his photos, I withdraw from Phil’s mouth, but I give the handsome boy another quick kiss before getting back in the car with Ricky.

We arrive home a short while later, only to discover yet another surprise waiting on my sofa- my other grandmother, my mother’s mother.

“Hello Laura!” Grandma Clarke (my mother’s mother) says, giving me a long hug. “Hello Ricky! I hope your sister’s not using you as a taxi during your leave!”

“No, I’m getting used as a wallet as well,” Ricky sighs, earning a playful whack from our grandmother.

“I understand you’re putting together a photo album of Laura, is that right?” Grandma Clarke asks.

“Yep,” Ricky says. “Got it on my phone if you want to have a look?”

“I’d love to,” Grandma Clarke says, “but we’re about to head out for lunch, all five of us.” Rather than argue, Ricky simply nods and pulls back on the boots he’d only just taken off when he entered the house.

“And I hope you’re not planning on wearing that much make-up to lunch, young lady!” Grandma White (my father’s mother) says to me, backed up by a stern stare from Grandma Clarke.

“…I’ll go and wash it off,” I mumble, slinking upstairs where I remove all but a very light layer of make-up, before returning and once again climbing into mum’s car. Lunch goes better than I expected, as both of my grandmothers get on well and always have done, despite the animosity between their children. Once again, I don’t finish my meal, but it’s not for want of trying, and I have a smile on my face despite my full belly as I head home with Grandma Clarke.

“I do like your other grandmother,” Grandma Clarke says. “God only knows where your father got his foulness from. Your other grandfather- her husband- wasn’t as obnoxious as him, let me tell you!”

“What was he like?” I ask. “I think he died the year before I was born, didn’t he?”

“He died at the start of 2001, so the same year you were born,” grandma says. “I didn’t know him that well, but he always had a smile on his face. He was VERY good with Ricky when he was younger, loved helping him play with his Action Men, just like my husband did…”

“So, so Grandpa White would have…” I ask.

“Accepted you?” Grandma asks. “Of course he would, just as your Grandpa Clarke would have done. The only rotten apple in your family is your father, and he’s where he belongs- behind bars! I’m so glad you decided not to go and see him, Laura.”

“So am I,” I say. “I mean, I know I’ll have to face him eventually, they can’t keep him in prison forever…”

“As much as he deserves it,” grandma spits. “But by the time he gets out, you’ll be twenty years old, an adult- and there’ll be nothing he can do about you being the person you want to be.”

“Unless he gets early parole for good behaviour,” I sigh.

“Even then, he can only apply after half his sentence,” grandma says. “That’s three and a half years, you’ll still be sixteen, not quite an adult but not quite a child either. And you never know, your father may eventually see sense. I mean, look at your brother…”

“If he doesn’t see sense, it’s his loss,” I spit, making grandma laugh as we arrive home. After bidding Grandma White farewell with a long hug (I won’t get the chance to see her before she and Ricky go to visit dad in prison) and saying goodbye to Grandma Clarke with an even longer hug, I head upstairs to change from my fancy dress back into the same skirt and t-shirt I was wearing earlier, before returning to the living room to find Ricky already hard at work on his laptop, editing the photos her took of me earlier today. We spend the whole evening working on the ‘album’- Ricky even sends me upstairs to put more make-up on for some close-up shots- before I head to bed at 10:30pm with a smile on my face.

I wake up on Sunday morning just after 8am with my smile still firmly attached to my face- even if I do slightly burying up under a layer of pink lipstick, before dressing in a multi-coloured knee-length sundress and heading downstairs to breakfast. Ricky obviously went out last night after I went to bed as he’s still asleep after I finish eating (but, obviously, I don’t finish the food that has been prepared for me), meaning that when Harriet, Megan and Ashley arrive to hang out, we have to keep the volume down until he’s up and about.

“Wow, Laura,” Megan says after I finish telling everyone the take of what had happened since Grandma White’s return. “Your family life really is complicated, isn’t it?”

“God, you don’t know the half of it,” I sigh as Harriet and I paint Megan’s nails a pale red colour.

“Well, at least you’re NOT going to see your dad,” Harriet sighs. “I’ve only seen mine a couple of times since I started living with my mum… Arsehole still thinks I’m some sort of freak for not bullying you anymore…”

“Yeah, well like you said,” I say with a smile. “Arsehole!” The four of us giggle loudly, giggling louder as Ricky walks into the kitchen wearing a dressing gown, clearly hungover from the night before.

“Thanks for waking me up,” Ricky complains as he pours himself a cup of coffee.

“Typical adults, always sleeping in later than everyone else on Sunday mornings…” I tease.

“Shut up,” Ricky says. “Where’s the rest of your gang, anyway?”

“On holiday,” I say, before grimacing as Ricky’s eyes once again drift toward Ashley.

“Got no male friends to hang out with?” Ricky teases, earning very stern stares from Megan, Harriet and myself.

“Leave him alone,” Harriet says, placing a supportive arm around Ashley’s shoulders.

“Huh, I thought the little Indian girl was your girlfriend?” Ricky asks the embarrassed boy. “Or do they, you know, share you?”

“No,” Ashley mumbles. “I just like hanging out with the girls, that’s all…”

“You don’t have a go at me for hanging out with girls, do you?” I ask my brother.

“Well, no, because you ARE a girl,” Ricky laughs. “Stick him in a dress and I’ll stop have a go.”

“You’ll stop having a go full stop,” I say as Ashley looks more and more embarrassed. “Have you finished the photo album?”

“Just got to print it,” Ricky says. “Unless you want to get a few more photos now…”

“Actually, that could be pretty cool,” Harriet says. “You’re doing this to wind up your dad, aren’t you?”

“Not JUST to wind him up,” Ricky says, finishing his coffee. “Just give me a second to get dressed, then I’ll get my camera.”

“This’ll be so cool,” Megan laughs. “A bit like your twelfth birthday party…”

“Another reason to hate my dad, keeping me away from that,” Harriet sighs.

“Another reason to hate being a year younger!” Ashley giggles. Ricky returns a short while later with his camera phone and takes extra photos, mostly of me getting a makeover from Harriet and Megan but a few of the three of us teasing Ashley as well- the emphasis of those photos being that I’m ‘one of the girls’, something that’s never been more true than today.

The girls- including Ashley- stay for dinner, and as we review the freshly-printed photo album, I realise that I’ve never felt happier than I do at this moment in time. So happy, in fact, that I barely notice when I finish every last morsel of food on my plate for the first time in months.

The following day, Ricky takes the photo album with him when he visits dad in prison, and returns with news which I find both wonderful and terrible- dad hated the album. Hated it so much, in fact, that he went ballistically angry… In the middle of the prison, with several guards surrounding him, thereby torpedoing what little chance he ever had of an early parole. I had to giggle when Ricky said that dad was more upset about upsetting Grandma White than he was about being restrained by the prison guards. Even better was that the photo album survived the trip, and now takes pride of place on Grandma White’s bookshelf. Knowing that I have another relative who loves me less than an hour up the road- and not just another relative, but another grandmother- is a source of extreme comfort. Hopefully she’ll be a part of my future- and hopefully my so-called father will remain a part of my past.

In the meantime, I have six long weeks of summer to look forward to, relaxing with my family- new and old- my friends and my boyfriend. And, for the first time in a long while, I’m not desperate for oestrogen, either- Dr Williamson will give me those pills when she feels I’m ready for them, and they’ll cause more good than harm. My first two years as Laura provided challenges that would test anyone’s limits- but I’ve passed. As Ricky unequivocally stated: I AM a girl. And I can’t wait to see what my third year of womanhood will bring!

“Extend,” Miss Fullerton advises. “Really stretch your leg out, see how it feels.” I comply, extending my leg to its fullest as my foot stretches downward, supporting my entire weight on the tips of my toes. Nicole, Harriet, Megan, Priya and Suriya all giggle as they watch me switch to my other foot, eventually standing en pointe on both feet in the brand-new shiny satin shoes.

“These still feel a little loose around my heel,” I say, earning groans from my friends- not to mention the gaggle of parents that are accompanying us- but an understanding nod from our ballet teacher.

“These shoes need to be a PERFECT fit,” Miss Fullerton explains. “If they’re even slightly tight or loose, you risk breaking your ankle every time you dance. Trust me- I’ve seen it happen.”

“These will be, like, your seventh pair that you’ve tried on!” Nicole sighs.

“It took me twelve pairs to get mine,” Miss Fullerton says. “Of course, that WAS twelve years ago…” I slip off the shoes that I’m currently wearing, exposing my dark blue toenails underneath my baby pink tights. All of us have worn our ballet uniforms to the pointe shoe shop, though we’ve all covered it up slightly, as it is still a cold November day- Megan, Harriet and Priya are all wearing loose, light-coloured tracksuit bottoms, whilst Nicole, Suriya and I have opted for short, floaty skirts, not unlike the flimsy dance skirts I used to wear at my ballet class itself.

“Thank god your boyfriends aren’t here,” Mr. Malik teases his daughters. “They’d be bored out of their skulls!” Priya, Suriya and I all giggle at the middle-aged man’s teasing, though all three of us know that whilst Priya’s boyfriend would indeed be bored, Ashley… Would be more envious than anything.

“Try these, they’re half a size down,” Miss Fullerton says. I slip my feet into the shoes and return to the shop’s barre, where our teacher helps me extend my feet back into the pointe position so familiar to every ballerina. My feet are starting to ache slightly from standing en pointe for so long, but over the past few months, I’ve been undertaking rigorous exercise to help strengthen my feet ready to dance en pointe, and there’s no way my teacher would’ve allowed me to get these shoes if she felt that I wasn’t ready. Still, when I get home, I can’t wait to soak my feet in a warm bowl of water…

“Perfect,” I say with a smile.

“Yes!” Miss Fullerton says with a giggle. “Okay, I’ll get the manager to bag these up for you along with some ribbon and a care kit for your shoes. I hope you’re sewing’s up to scratch!”

“She’ll learn,” mum says, making the whole shop good-naturedly giggle at my expense.

“Okay, five down, one to go,” Miss Fullerton says. “Nicole, you’re up!” Nicole giggles excitedly as she all but skips up to the barre, pulling on the shoes that Miss Fullerton had picked out earlier that matched her foot measurements. Even though I’m excited to get my new pointe shoes- and I can’t wait to dance in them later in the week- as I walk past Nicole I still feel a twinge of sadness. Two months ago, the six of us (minus Priya, who is of course a year older) started our third year at secondary school, and when we returned, the height difference between us and the newly-starting first years was incredible… For everyone apart from me.

Whether it’s due to my male genetics or hormone blockers, I can’t say, but even a week before my fourteenth birthday, I STILL haven’t had my growth spurt. I have grown slightly, but not much- I can’t even fit into the dress my friends bought me for my THIRTEENTH birthday… Meanwhile, my friends are all growing, both in a sense of getting taller and in the sense of ‘growing as women’. Nicole and Megan are both 5’ 4”- the same height as my mother- Harriet and Priya are both 5’ 2” and even the naturally-petite Suriya is a tiny bit taller than I am. I still wear my ‘bralets’ most days, and whilst I’ve felt some small swelling on my chest, all of my friends now have actual defined breasts.

Even worse is that, over the last few months, Phil has dramatically changed as well. He turned fourteen last month now well over six inches taller than me, and starting to grow facial hair and body hair, and whilst I look at him and think ‘thank god I’m never going to grow facial hair’, I can tell he looks at me and thinks ‘why am I going out with a little girl?’. He doesn’t treat me as a little girl, of course- none of my friends do, which is why I love them so much- but I can tell that he looks at some of the older teenagers in our drama class and wishes that either I was one of them… Or that he was going out with one of them instead of me. In a way, it’d be easier if I didn’t like Phil so much- we’ve been going out for almost a year, and at no point during that time have I ever wanted a different boyfriend.

“Okay,” Miss Fullerton says as Nicole poses en pointe in her new shoes. “I think this is THE pair! Right, I’ve done my part, now time for your parents- or rather, their credit cards- to do their part!” The six of us all giggle as we take our new shoes- and our parents- to the counter, where the manager eagerly rings up the sale.

“I hope you realise this is part of your birthday present!” Mum says to me as she hands over her card.

“That’s okay,” I say. “Maybe I’ll put together a dance as part of your birthday next year…” Mum snorts as we leave the shop, our friends and dance teacher following shortly behind.

“Give our best to Hannah tonight!” Nicole says to our extra-tall dance teacher as she departs.

“Thanks!” Miss Fullerton laughs. “Actually got tickets to see Strictly tonight, so keep an eye out for me in the audience!”

“Will do!” Nicole giggles as the teacher gets in her car and drives away. “God, that is SO cool, I want to go and watch Strictly one day…”

“I want to be ON Strictly!” Suriya giggles. “Maybe even dance in my brand new pointe shoes…”

“Mum! Mum! Get a photo!” Nicole squeaks, dragging the six of us into a huddle where we happily pose with our new pointe shoes, our parents taking it in turns to get pictures of us. At home, mum also gets an individual photo of me holding my new shoes, before I get to work sewing the elastic and shiny ribbons to the shoes. I’m not exactly a master seamstress, but both mum and grandma have been giving me tips over the past few months, teaching me how to sew, and within half an hour, I have both shoes completed and looking utterly beautiful. They look even more beautiful after I secure them to my feet and strip down to my jet-black leotard, posing for yet more photos that will inevitably find their way into my paternal grandmother’s scrapbook.

Even though I’ve had it on my body for far longer than I ever have in the past, I still feel a twinge of regret as I peel off my dancewear and pull my skirt and jumper back on, before grabbing my tablet computer and parking myself on my sofa for the rest of the evening.

“Chatting with all the other ballerinas?” Mum laughs as I tuck my smooth, bare legs underneath me.

“Yep,” I say. “Kinda a pity Ashley couldn’t come today.”

“He’s a BOY, dear,” mum laughs. “You heard Mr. Malik, he’d have been bored out of his skull, even if he does dance with you! Well, used to dance with you, anyway.” I smile sadly as mum chuckles- one unintended side-effect of the six of us joining Miss Fullerton’s advanced/pointe class is that Ashley, who joined our class late, will have to wait an extra few months before joining us, possibly even until his thirteenth birthday, which isn’t for another six months. My smile gets even wider, and sadder as I login to Facebook and see his name online near the top of my friends list. Almost immediately as I log in, I’m invited into a group conversation with Ashley and the girls- and there’s obviously only one topic of conversation.

‘Hi pointe sister!!!’ Suriya types.

‘Hi Laura Ballerina!’ Megan types at the same time as Suriya. ‘Done any practice yet in your new shoes?’

‘Hi girlies!’ I type. ‘Maybe just a LITTLE practice, lol!’

‘Same here!’ Megan types, before attaching a photo of her in her leotard, balancing en pointe in her living room.

‘So cool,’ Ashley types, before Suriya attaches a similar photograph of herself balancing en pointe in the Maliks’ vast kitchen. ‘So cute!’

‘Hehe xxxx,’ Suriya types, undoubtedly making her boyfriend blush.

‘I’m really going to miss you girls next week,’ Ashley types, making me sigh sadly.

‘You’ll see us all week at school!’ I reply. ‘And it’s not like you’ll be gone forever…’

‘I know, I know,’ Ashley types. ‘I really, really wish I could’ve gone with you today.’

‘AND got pointe shoes of your own?’ Suriya types.

‘Of course!’ Ashley replies as Priya and Harriet join the conversation.

‘Hey fellow ballerinas!’ Priya- who is presumably in a different room to her sister- types.

‘Hey hey, dancing divas!’ Harriet types, followed by several ‘winking’ emoji.

‘I’ve shown them my photo,’ Suriya types. ‘Come on sis, don’t be shy!’

‘Lol’, Priya types, before sending over a photograph of her long, slender frame balancing en pointe in her parents’ hallway.

‘Ooh! Me next!’ Harriet types, sending her own ‘en pointe’ photo, in which she’s ‘gone the extra mile’ by applying stage make-up and tying her long ginger hair into a bun.

‘Laura…’ Megan types. ‘We haven’t seen yours yet!’

‘Lol,’ I type. ‘Mum only just took it…’

‘Mum only took mine two minutes ago!’ Harriet replies. ‘Still got my pointe shoes on, might type the rest of this convo en pointe!’ As the girls tease me about my missing picture, I open up a second, private chat window to Ashley, whose woes about his- or rather, her- own pointe shoes seem to have been forgotten since Priya and Harriet jointed the conversation.

‘Hey Ash,’ I type. ‘You okay?’

‘Sure,’ Ashley replies. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Really?’ I reply. ‘I know how much this must suck for you, seeing pictures of us with our pointe shoes. I know better than anyone what it must be like!’

‘It’s okay,’ Ashley types. ‘It’s not like it’ll NEVER happen if I want it to.’

‘Atta girl!’ I type with a smiling emoji, earning the same emoji in response from Ashley.

‘Hey girlies!’ Nicole types in the main chat window as I close the chat window with Ashley. ‘Every sharing their new ballerina pics?’

‘Everyone except Laura!’ Harriet types, making me laugh and roll my eyes.

“Mum?” I yell. “Can you forward that photo you took to me, please?”

“Ah, let me guess,” mum laughs. “Everyone comparing their photos online?”

“Yeah,” I giggle. “Well, everyone except Ash…”

“How many times,” mum laughs. “He’s a BOY. You have to be careful he’s not using those photos for, well, umm…”

“Mum!” I chastise, stifling a laugh. “Besides, Ash isn’t like that, he’s…” I pause, not wanting my mouth to run away with me- as much as I trust my mum with my life, Ash did entrust me with his secret, if I told anyone, it’d be a betrayal…

“…he’s what, exactly?” Mum asks. “You’re not planning on dumping Phil and going out with him, are you?”

“No, no no no,” I insist. “That reminds me- I should probably send this photo to Phil as well…”

“Well I’m DEFINITELY not sending you the photo now!” Mum laughs, before sighing. “Okay, there you go, sent.” I giggle as I open up the photos on my tablet, before picking the best one and dropping it into the conversation, much to the delight of all the other girls.

‘Hey Phil,’ I type into a new chat window, underneath the same photo I’d just sent to my friends. ‘Like my new shoes?’

‘So cute,’ Phil replies. ‘Um, I can’t stick around right now, Laura, about to head out with my family. Talk soon xxxx’

‘xxxx,’ I reply as Phil abruptly goes offline.

‘This going to be SO cool,’ Nicole types in the main group chat. ‘We’re all going to be super-talented, super cute ballerinas!’

‘Nearly all of us,’ Ashley types, making me sigh sadly. I go to type a response, even though I know the other five girls will also be typing the exact same thing- which is confirmed mere seconds later when Nicole, Megan, Harriet, Priya, Suriya and I all send through messages that read ‘tell your parents already’ or similar words to that effect.

‘At least talk to Miss Fullerton on Wednesday,’ I type. ‘Tell her you want to do pointe… I’m sure she’ll agree to give you extra tuition.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ Ashley types. ‘G2G now, got to help my parents with dinner, but I’ll see you all tomorrow!’

‘G2G2,’ Priya types. ‘Got to help my parents with preparations for Diwali next week, and so does Suri.’ I giggle as Suriya sends a ‘sticking out tongue’ emoji to her big sister, before the two girls also log out.

I spend the rest of the evening chatting with my friends on Facebook, watching ballet videos on YouTube and, of course, watching Strictly Come Dancing, catching a glimpse of Miss Fullerton in the audience during her friend Hannah’s dance. I eat only a light dinner, but I still just about finish it all, and even have a tiny piece of leftover Halloween chocolate before heading to bed just after 9:30pm. Whilst my weight has increased over the last few months, I’m still slightly underweight for someone my age and height. Dr Williamson has hinted that once I’m a healthy weight, I may finally get the oestrogen prescription I’ve craved for so long, but consciously gaining weight is so, so hard- especially when my friends all seem to be getting skinnier. Harriet and Megan were never ‘small’ girls, but over the last six months, even they have got skinnier as they’ve got taller, Priya and Suriya have always been skinny and Nicole has a very adult body shape for someone who’s only thirteen years old.

As I try to get to sleep, I remember some of the ‘exercises’ Dr Williamson taught me to help me not obsess about my weight. Most of these involve focussing on positives in my life- a task made easier every time I roll over in bed and see the light from outside reflecting off the shiny satin of my new pointe shoes.

I wake up on Sunday morning with a smile on my face, before showering, taking my ‘boy blocker’ and heading downstairs for breakfast in just my nightie and my thick, lilac dressing gown.

“You look happy today!” Mum laughs. “Still excited about your pointe shoes?”

“Hell yeah!” I laugh. “Can’t wait for Tuesday… Can’t wait until I can actually dance in them on stage!”

“I emailed the photo to both of your grandmothers,” mum says. “Obviously, they can’t wait to see you dance either! I take it Phil also, um, ‘liked’ the photo?”

“Yeah,” I giggle. “Mum, I know you disapprove of me having a boyfriend, but you know I like Phil…”

“It’s not ‘having a boyfriend’ I disapprove of,” mum retorts. “It’s how ‘serious’ you’re getting. You’re thirteen, you should be holding hands, kissing only very, very occasionally… Last time you saw him you had his tongue stuck practically all the way down your throat…”

“Okay, one, I’m almost fourteen,” I retort. “Two, it’s 2015, not 1945. Three… I love him.”

“I’m sure you think you do,” mum sighs. “Believe me, I’ve been where you are. I know better than anyone how seemingly nice men can turn into complete monsters.”

“Phil is not like Robert!” I retort, shivering at the mention of my ‘father’s name.

“I never said he was,” mum says. “Just… Be careful, okay? And don’t do anything, ANYTHING until you are sixteen at the very least, and even then, only if you’re absolutely 100% sure that you’re ready. I want you to promise me this, Laura, okay?”

“Sure, I promise,” I say, though I can tell from mum’s facial expression that she’s far from convinced.

After breakfast, I dress in a pair of sheer black tights, a comfy dusky pink jumper and a short black denim skirt, before pulling on a pair of flats, grabbing my new pointe shoes and heading down to mum’s car. A short while later, we pull up outside Nicole’s posh house, where I’m greeted with a hug from the tall, mousey-haired girl- even though physical contact of this kind still makes me squirm a little.

“Hey Laura!” Nicole squeaks. “You’re the first here, for once! Well, assuming you don’t count her!” I giggle as Nicole gestures to her eight year old younger sister, who’s sat on the stairs wearing a ballet uniform almost identical to the one I wore when I started Miss Fullerton’s class over two years ago.

“Hey Sabrina!” I say to the little girl. “You excited about starting Miss Fullerton’s class next week?” I giggle even harder as Sabrina nods, her already-wide grin getting somehow even more excited.

“She absolutely refuses to take off her uniform,” Nicole explains as she leads me into her living room, with her sister following closely behind. “Mum’s actually had to get her four more pairs of tights and another leotard for her to wear around the house!”

“Lucky her,” I sigh.

“Aww,” Nicole coos. “I keep forgetting that when you were eight, you never got to dress up like that… Still, the important thing is that you do now, and even better, you get to wear these!” I laugh with Nicole as she produces her own pointe shoes, along with a set of tools Miss Fullerton recommended we use to ‘break in’ the shoes. Before we get going, however, we’re interrupted by a knock on the door- which turns out to be Priya, Suriya and Ashley.

“Hey girlies and honorary girlie!” Nicole squeaks, giving hugs to all three of our friends before leading them (and, where applicable, their pointe shoes) back into the living room.

“No saris for Diwali?” I ask the two Indian girls, who giggle excitedly.

“We will when we get home!” Suriya replies, before lowering her voice to a whisper. “I’ve promised Miss Moore the opportunity to be an Indian princess for one night, after all…” I smile as Ashley blushes- clearly, with Nicole’s sister here, it means that yet again, she won’t get to be the girl she really is, but at least she’ll get some ‘girly time’ before going home.

“What’s a sari?” Sabrina asks, making us older girls all giggle at her cute innocence.

“It’s a special kind of dress from India,” Suriya explains. “It’s made out of one long, brightly-coloured piece of cloth that girls wrap around their body and over one shoulder.”

“Is it beautiful?” Sabrina asks, prompting ‘aww’s from all five of us.

“VERY beautiful,” Priya says with a smile.

“But not as beautiful as the tutus you’ll be wearing at Miss Fullerton’s class!” Suriya teases, making Sabrina giggle happily. Before long, we’re joined by Megan and Harriet and quickly set to work on our pointe shoes, moulding them to give our feet the maximum support. Of course, the six of us can’t resist posing for a few photographs in our broken-in shoes once we’re done. As I look at Sabrina and Ashley watching on with envy, I actually have a hard time telling which of the two girls is more envious of the six of us. Sabrina, obviously, will eventually graduate onto pointe shoes when she’s progressed enough in her class- possibly even getting them before she turns twelve- but as for Ashley…

Once we’re finished with our pointe shoes (for today, anyway), the eight of us collapse on Nicole’s plush sofas for an extended gossip session- one of my favourite parts of any weekend.

“Dad’s unhappy that we have to be at school all through Diwali,” Priya explains. “But as he’s on the board of governors, he can’t exactly pull us out of school for the week without getting REALLY told off…”

“What’s Diwali?” Sabrina asks, making everyone smile yet again at her innocence. “Is it like Indian Christmas?”

“A bit,” Suriya says.

“Didn’t you study it at school?” Nicole asks her younger sister, who shakes her head in response. “Huh, I definitely learned about Diwali when I was at primary school… Didn’t get to dress up in pretty saris, though!”

“That’s definitely the best part of it,” Suriya laughs.

“Don’t let dad hear you say that!” Priya says, making her younger sister laugh even harder.

“Of course our brother like the last day, the Bhai Dooj, best of all,” Suriya says.

“Isn’t your brother at university now?” Harriet asks.

“Yes, but he comes home for Diwali,” Priya says, before turning to the clearly-confused Sabrina. “The Bhai Dooj is where sisters pay tribute and generally fuss over their brothers, kinda like Mother’s Day of Father’s Day, but for brothers.”

“Do sisters get a day too?” Sabrina asks. “Because it’s not fair if only brothers get a day to themselves…”

“Too right it isn’t!” Suriya laughs, before turning to face Ashley. “And don’t you dare argue, Mr. ‘three younger sisters’!”

“Doubt my parents would agree to convert to Hinduism anyway,” Ashley says, bringing laughs from all of us.

“Why is Ash the only boy here, anyway?” Megan asks, giving Ashley a sly wink to let her know that she’s only calling her a ‘boy’ for Sabrina’s benefit. “Where’s Jordan?”

“Dumped him,” Nicole says matter-of-factly, eliciting gasps of shock from the other girls.

“What?” Harriet asks. “Why?”

“He’s such a BOY,” Nicole sighs. “Only interested in football, then he got in those two fights last term… I want a boy who’s a MAN, who’s sensitive, interested in GOOD things like dancing and drama…”

“Well you’re not having Ashley!” Suriya laughs, cuddling Ashley’s arm close to her.

“Or Phil!” I say, making Nicole giggle.

“Or Joey!” Megan laughs.

“Or Dean!” Priya says, making Nicole almost curl up in a laughing fit.

“No, no way!” Nicole laughs. “Though Harriet can have Jordan if she wants!”

“Ew, no thank you!” Harriet spits, making the girls laugh even more.

“Why haven’t you had a boyfriend yet?” Megan asks the flame-haired girl, who sighs in response. “You’re one of the popular kids, take advantage of it!”

“Ehh… Maybe some other time,” Harriet says. “In the meantime, topic change! Sabrina, when’s your ballet lessons?”

“Monday and Tuesday!” Sabrina giggles excitedly. “My Tuesday lesson will right before yours!” I giggle as Sabrina delights everyone with stories of her new adventures at ballet, but I can’t help but feel that Harriet’s hiding something by her refusal to talk about boys...

I stay for lunch at Nicole’s house but leave just before 4pm, my newly broken-in pointe shoes in tow and a happy, contented smile on my face as I climb back into mum’s car.

“Did you have fun?” Mum asks as we drive away.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m a bit tired, though, it’s always a long say when we’re at Nicole’s…”

“Better get an early night then,” mum says. “Don’t want to be falling asleep during class tomorrow, especially as you have gymnastics AND your dance club!” I giggle as mum playfully chastises me.

“Oh,” mum continues. “I almost forgot- your brother’s package arrived today. He won’t be able to come back for your birthday, but the package feels nice and heavy! I’ve also spoken to your Grandma White, she WILL be able to come to your birthday next Sunday.”

“That’s cool,” I say with a smile. As much as he can irritate me, I’m genuinely disappointed that Rick won’t be there for my birthday, but I’ll at least have both grandmothers there, not to mention all my friends and, last but not least, my awesome boyfriend!

As I arrive home, I head up to my bedroom to grab my tablet computer, logging into Facebook in a hope of finding Phil online, only to see that not only is he offline, but he hasn’t logged in since early this morning- which is unusual as his family normally attend church on Sunday mornings. I decide to think nothing more of it, instead switching off my tablet, finishing off my homework and getting an early night as mum advised.

The following morning, I wake up and go through my morning routine, including brushing my shoulder-length hair into its usual bobbed style (the hair extensions I got over summer were removed before the first day of the school year), taking my ‘boy blocker’ and pulling on the familiar white blouse, thick grey tights and knee-length pleated grey skirt that make up my school uniform. This will be the last year I wear this particular uniform, as I’m reminded when I greet my friends at the school gate and catch sight of Priya in the straight grey skirt and black tights worn by the ‘upper school’, pupils in years 10 and 11. The one advantage of the straight skirt is that it can be rolled higher so it shows off more of your legs- assuming you have any length of leg to show off, of course, as I’m reminded when I see Nicole and Megan in their skirts, which are now noticeably shorter than knee-length.

My first class of the day is German, in which I work with Suriya and Megan (some of the classes in our year are now sorted by ability, rather than by form group, so I get to work with Megan a lot). After German, I giggle as I head to the girls’ toilets adjacent to the gymnasium where I meet with Nicole, Suriya and Harriet as the four of us change into our PE kits- Harriet into her usual t-shirt and shorts, Nicole, Suriya and I into our new school leotards, spangly purple ones with dark blue flashes across our chests and arms. Our PE teacher is still unhappy with Suriya, Nicole and Harriet changing with me, but after they received permission slips from their parents, they agreed to look the other way every lesson. Some of the other girls in the school’s gymnastics team have also provided permission slips from their parents, but there are still a few who are strongly against the very idea of someone who was not born a girl being treated as a girl by the school, no matter how clear I and the school make the ‘situation’. Because I was once a boy, in their eyes, I’ll never be a ‘real’ girl. The only real concessions I’ve received since starting two years ago are that I’m now allowed to join the school’s sports teams and I can use one specific set of girls toilets (the one I change in) freely at any time- but that really is it.

Fortunately, once I’m in class, my fellow pupils treat me with much more respect than their parents. My ‘fame’ from last summer may have faded slightly, but our gang is still one of the more popular ones in our year, even with boys- one of the boys who attacked me at the beginning of year 7 actually asked me out at the start of the school year- and it was VERY satisfying to not only turn him down, but to explain it was because I already had a boyfriend!

After gymnastics- during which we’re told that the team for the inter-school competition will be announced at gymnastics club on Wednesday- the four of us change out of our uniforms before heading to meet our friends at break. Normally, of course, we would keep our leotards on underneath our uniforms, but today that’s not an option as when the bell rings an hour later to signify the start of lunch, Nicole, Suriya and I head straight back to our ‘private changing room’ and change into a different leotard- a short-sleeved blue one- and a pair of tight booty shorts before heading back up to the gymnasium for dance club. After our forty-five minutes of rehearsal are over, however, one of my friends does something that shocks and surprises me.

“Excuse me?” Nicole says to our teacher as we prepare to head downstairs and get changed. “Miss Ellison?”

“Yes?” Miss Ellison says. “What is it, Nicole?”

“Umm, if it’s okay,” Nicole says hesitantly. “I’d- I’d kinda like to drop dance club, please?”

“What?” I blurt. “Why?”

“Laura,” Miss Ellison says in a cautionary tone, silencing me. “Obviously this is your decision, Nicole, but I would like to know why, and I’m sure you know that it’ll hurt your chances of getting onto the cheerleading team next year.”

“I just want to concentrate more on acting,” Nicole explains. “And I just got my pointe shoes… I’d prefer to do just one type of dance at a time.”

“Well, okay,” Miss Ellison says. “It’s your decision, I can’t force you to come to the club, but if you do leave, you won’t be allowed to change your mind later on.”

“I understand,” Nicole says, smiling as we head downstairs to get changed.

“Really?” Suriya asks as we pull our skirts back on over our leotards. “I thought you loved dance club?”

“Yeah,” I concur. “You were great in the assembly at the end of last year, AND you told me you always wanted to be a cheerleader…”

“I’ve just got a lot on my plate, that’s all,” Nicole explains. “Between this, ballet, drama, gymnastics… Dance club was the thing I enjoyed least and was least good at, so I got rid of it!”

“Are you dropping anything else as well, like gymnastics?” Suriya asks.

“Noooo, no no no,” Nicole giggles. “Not when there are still medals and trophies to be won from it! Besides, you should be happy, it means I won’t need this-“ Nicole playfully stretches the shiny fabric of her leotard- “anymore, so Ashley can have it!”

“That really sucked that they wouldn’t let Ash join the club,” I say as I brush out my hair, which became tangled during my dancing. “I mean, she’s as good a dancer as any of us…”

“When SHE decides to tell her parents, then SHE can join the club,” Suriya says, an air of frustration creeping into her voice.

“…Is everything okay with you and Ash?” Nicole asks.

“…No,” Suriya sighs. “She- she just frustrates me, the way she refuses to tell her parents… I know it’s wrong to say this, but I wish he- she- whatever, I wish Ash would just grow a pair…” Nicole and I nod resignedly as we finish pulling our uniforms on, grab our bags and head to our final lesson of the day, only to run into an unexpected figure immediately as we leave the toilets.

“Hi Ash!” Suriya squeaks as she sees her boyfriend, immediately grabbing her arm and giving it a tight cuddle.

“Hey!” A nearby teacher yells. “Stop that!” Suriya and Ashley both blush as the Indian girl releases the blonde ‘boy’s arm, and I can’t help but giggle internally at how Suriya instantly went from frustrated about Ashley and talking behind her back to her usual giggly, excited self the second she saw her. Then again, it’s not like I haven’t done the exact same thing with Phil…

“Did you girls have a good lunch?” Ashley asks with a sad tone to her voice.

“It would’ve been better with you there,” I say.

“MY boyfriend!” Suriya playfully chastises me. “Hands off!”

“You know what I mean,” I giggle.

“Still though,” Nicole says, “I’m going to be leaving the dance club effective immediately, so that means there IS a leotard that will be going spare…”

“Oh my god, thanks!” Ashley laughs.

“I’ll get mum to wash it, then I’ll bring it in on Thursday,” Nicole laughs, before the four of us head our separate ways to our final class of the day. By the time the bell rings to signify the end of the day I am utterly exhausted, but my day isn’t over yet as I’m reminded when I climb into mum’s car and immediately head to the counsellor’s office that’s become like a second home to me over the past two years.

“Hello Laura!” Dr Williamson says as mum and I enter her office, sitting down in her plush chairs. “Did you have a good day at school?”

“I had a tiring one,” I sigh. “Had PE today, and dance club…”

“I hope you’re not pushing yourself TOO hard,” Dr Williamson advises. “I know you enjoy your dancing and your performing arts, but it was pushing yourself too hard that saw you end up in hospital earlier in the year… On that topic, how is your appetite doing?”

“Recovering,” I say.

“Laura still doesn’t eat a lot,” mum interjects. “But her weight is slowly increasing despite the exercise that she also gets from dance and gymnastics.”

“My friend Nicole actually dropped dance club today,” I say. “I’ve… I’ve thought about doing the same, but I enjoy all my, you know, extra-curricular activities too much. Every time I pull on a leotard and go dancing or do gymnastics, it- it…”

“It helps you to feel more feminine?” Dr Williamson asks, making me nod.

“I know it sounds silly,” I sigh. “I mean, I’m wearing a skirt, I have a boyfriend, virtually everyone accepts me as a girl…”

“It’s not silly, not at all,” the counsellor. “And before you inevitably bring it up, yes, I recognise that not having oestrogen is part of this urge you have.”

“You said you’d review it by my fourteenth birthday,” I say. “This is our last session before my birthday.”

“Laura!” Mum snaps upon hearing my confrontational tone.

“I did indeed say that,” Dr Williamson concedes. “But I still have some concerns.” Mum gives me another stern look as I groan in frustration.

“Your appetite is my main concern,” Dr Williamson continues. “This ‘urge’ to join the most feminine clubs and teams available is another one, albeit very minor as you do seem to be dedicating yourself to working hard at them, rather than just ‘wearing the uniform and pretending’ as some girls in your situation end up doing. I saw from your Instagram that you got your pointe shoes at the weekend, for example.”

“Yeah,” I say. “And I’m not THAT underweight, only a couple of pounds for my height…”

I AM proud of your progress, Laura,” Dr Williamson says. “But there is more than can be done. Have you brought your food diary?”

“Yep,” I say, taking the small notebook out of my bag and handing it over to the middle-aged woman, who examines it for the next few minutes, before revisiting several techniques I’ve learned in recent weeks to help me every time I feel the need to ‘purge’ my body of food or restrict the amount I eat. It obviously works, as my stomach is growling with hunger by the time I prepare to leave the office. Before I follow mum down to her car, though, I pause.

“Mum,” I say cautiously, “I’ll see you down in reception, okay?”

“Okay,” mum says, clearly worried about why I’d want to talk to Dr Williamson without her present. “Why- why, exactly?”

“It’s just a quick thing, won’t take thirty seconds,” I say. “It’s… It’s not about me, it’s kinda private…”

“Okay, if you insist,” mum says, her worry replaced by unhappiness that I’d keep something from her.

“What it is, Laura?” Dr Williamson asks once mum is gone. “Is it about one of your friends?”

“Yes,” I say. “It’s about my friend Ashley, who’s in the school year below me.”

“Is Ashley a boy or a girl?” Dr Williamson asks.

“Well, um, ‘yes’, I suppose,” I chuckle. “She’s in the same situation as me, born male but wants to be female… She’s one of the girls for sure, but her parents don’t even know about her… I reckon she’d benefit from speaking to you.”

“She would need to be referred by her GP first,” Dr Williamson says. “Advise your friend to get booked in for an appointment, then she can get regular appointments with me or one of the other counsellors here. In the meantime, it’s important that she tells her parents as soon as possible, and that’s something YOU can help with.”

“Um, how?” I ask.

“Just be there for your friend,” Dr Williamson says. “Share your experiences, such as your coming out to your grandmother and to your brother, your first day at school, making friends as a girl, feel free to share any of the techniques we’ve discussed in our discussions. Make sure she knows that she isn’t alone, and will always have support.”

“Can do,” I say with a smile.

“I think this could be good for you as well,” Dr Williamson says. “You’ve spoken about the help you’ve got from Nikki Thomas, the way she’s occasionally ‘mentored’ you. Normally I’d be reluctant to assign you as a ‘mentor’ to another transgendered girl until we’ve resolved your own issues first, but as you’re already friends with this Ashley, I reckon it can help you see things from an alternative perspective.”

“Thanks,” I giggle, before bidding my counsellor farewell and heading home with mum. After eating (and finishing) dinner, I finish off my homework before heading to bed, waking up the following morning with a smile on my face that remains as I stroll up to the school gate, the gentle wind making my skirt fluttering around my nylon-covered legs.

In this school year, our drama club meets during Tuesday lunchtime, so after our third lesson of the day, I head there along with Nicole, Suriya, Harriet and Ashley, where we’re handed out copies of the latest revision of our script. As promised, this year, we’re rehearsing for Romeo and Juliet, only it’s going to be with a modern ‘twist’ in that instead of being members of rival gangs, ‘our’ Romeo and Juliet will be members of rival schools caught up in an inter-school rivalry. It’s also going to be only for pupils from years 7-9 (the older kids will have a play of their own), meaning all the main roles will be played by people in my year… And yes, I have already put my name down for playing Juliet!

“Do you suppose the ‘Romeo’ in this story is named after Romeo Beckham?” Suriya giggles as we read our scripts.

“Now HE is cute,” Nicole says. “Reckon he’d be interested in a tall, slender actress, gymnast and dancer with long brown hair?”

“Assuming he wouldn’t prefer a cute, freckled ginger-haired girl!” Suriya teases Harriet as the flame-girl blushes.

“Assuming the cute, freckled ginger girl would even be interested in him!” Harriet snorts.

“Romeo Beckham, Romeo Beckham, wherefore art thou, Romeo Beckham?” I say, making everyone laugh before we get down to the serious business of rehearsing for the play.

“You know,” Harriet muses. “For a supposed romantic play, there really aren’t that many roles for girls, there Juliet, her guardian… That’s about it, really.”

“I take it everyone’s auditioning for Juliet?” Nicole asks.

“Of course!” I giggle. “Especially as Phil is auditioning for Romeo!”

“Phil Brooks, Phil Brooks, wherefore art thou, Phil Brooks?” Harriet teases, before mock-fainting in mine and Nicole’s arms.

“It’d be so appropriate too,” Nicole sighs happily. “A girl from one school and a boy from the other, just like in the play…”

“…I might audition for Romeo,” Ashley says.

“Umm, I think they want year nines only for the lead roles,” Nicole says, lowering Ashley’s smile.

“Oh whatever,” Suriya snorts, cuddling Ashley’s arm. “If you’re good enough, you’re old enough!”

“Just… Don’t get your hopes up TOO high!” Nicole chuckles.

“Same goes for you, wannabe Juliet!” I tease, making the five of us all giggle as we head to our last lesson of the day.

After school, as always, I head home and eat dinner, but I feel a tremble of excitement after I finish eating as I head upstairs and strip off my uniform, exchanging my panties for one of my thongs before pulling on a pair of soft pink tights and my favourite black tank leotard. After tying my hair back and securing it with hairpins, I grab my dance bag- containing my new, precious pointe shoes- and head downstairs to mum’s car, which ferries me to the dance studio which has quickly become another ‘second home’ to me.

“Hey ballerina buddy!” Nicole squeaks, giving me a quick hug. “Excited about your first pointe lesson?”

“Not as excited as you obviously are!” I giggle as the brown-haired girl literally bounces up and down, before launching herself at Megan as the other brown-haired girl arrives at the studio.

“Hey ballerina buddy!” Nicole squeaks to Megan.

“Hey, ballerinicole!” Megan laughs as she adjusts her leotard.

“Sooo…” Nicole teases. “Did you get your ‘box’ tonight?”

“No, not tonight,” Megan sighs, before briefly glancing in my direction.

“No, it’s okay, I don’t mind,” I laugh. “Though you’d better not let the boys hear us talking about ‘boxes’…”

“Hehe, Laura! You’re so rude!” Nicole giggles as Megan also nearly collapses in a fit of giggles. The ‘box’ Megan and Nicole are actually referring to is a new product being launched by the Angels (the modelling clique our dance teacher and my boyfriend’s sister belong to). For £15 a month, they send you a box full of various cosmetics, fashion & beauty products, each of which is personally approved by one or more members of the ‘clique’. Nicole was one of the first subscribers, as were Megan, Harriet and Priya and Suriya (who share their box). I, on the other hand, am not a subscriber. My mum doesn’t nearly as much as Nicole’s or Suriya’s parents, and between my acting, my gymnastics and my ballet, I’m stretching my her finances pretty thin. I did ask for the box, of course, and sulked for a whole evening when I was told no, but I quickly got over it by remember some of Dr Williamson’s advice- I’m inevitably going to face disappointment in my life, and compared to what I’ve gone through in the past two years, not getting a box full of cheap make-up once a month really isn’t that big a deal… Especially when there are others, like Ashley, who don’t have anything at all.

“Hey girls!” Miss Fullerton says. “Did I hear you talking about ‘boxes’?”

“Yeah,” Nicole says. “We haven’t got ours yet…”

“Eh, I’m sure it’ll come,” Miss Fullerton says. “I know for a fact they were sent out last Friday! In the meantime, you DO all have the boxes in your brand-new, broken-in shiny pointe shoes, right?”

“Of course!” I giggle as the three of us produce our special footwear for our teacher to inspect.

“Ooh,” Miss Fullerton coos. “Nice stitching, all three of you! Though the shoes will look better once they’re on your feet!” The four of us all giggle as we wait for the arrival of the other three girls, and once they arrive (and Miss Fullerton has had a chance to compliment their needlework) our teacher takes us to one side to explain what will happen in the lesson.

“As you girls are new to pointe shoes,” Miss Fullerton explains, “I’ll be working with you for most of the night. You won’t be actually dancing in the shoes yet, not until you’ve had enough lessons to get used to them, and that’ll be sometime around the New Year. You’ll just be doing exercises for now to strengthen your feet and leg muscles. I need to stress again: DO NOT attempt to dance, or even walk in these shoes without my permission and supervision. I’ve seen the photos you all put on Instagram, and that’s okay as long as it’s a one-off, but these shoes are NOT toys, and there is a very real chance that you can hurt yourself if you push yourself too hard too fast or, even worse, mess around in the shoes. I need to make sure that you all understand this, okay?”

“Yes, Miss Fullerton,” the six of us say in unison, bringing a smile to the tall woman’s face.

“Great!” Miss Fullerton beams. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the other ballerinas!” The six of us smile as we enter the studio, and already it’s a very different atmosphere than what we’re used to in the beginner or intermediate classes- there are about fifteen other girls who are aged between thirteen and seventeen, all of whom are wearing the same black leotards and pink tights as me and my friends and have their hair scraped back into severe, tight buns. And the girls are BEAUTIFUL- tall, slender and elegant, each one immaculately made-up, even the younger teenagers… Even though I want more than anything to be a part of this group, I immediately feel out of place with my 4’ 11” pre-pubescent body.

I take a deep breath and remember Dr Williamson’s words of wisdom as I step into the studio- I’m surrounded by friends, the best friends I- or any girl- have ever had. Even though they’re taller than me, even though they are ‘genetically’ a girl, they’ll support me no matter what, just as I’ll always support them. And indeed, as the lesson passes the halfway mark and we pull on our pointe shoes for the first ‘real’ time, I’ve completely forgotten all about my anxieties, especially as I rise en pointe for the first time as Miss Fullerton (aided by two very friendly older teenagers named Georgie and Brooke) corrects our posture. By the end of the lesson, even though my feet are aching and my toes are sore, I find myself desperate for just a few more minutes of dancing- though I heed Miss Fullerton’s earlier caution and- after posing for a photo en pointe with Megan, Nicole, Harriet, Priya and Suriya- I remove my pointe shoes, stretching and cooling down my toes before pulling my flats back on.

“So, girls,” Miss Fullerton giggles. “Regretting the ballerina life yet?”

“Not a second of it!” Megan laughs as she pulls her own flats back on. “I SO wish I’d started earlier, I’d love to do this professionally…”

“The class puts on performances all the time,” Miss Fullerton says. “Maybe not EXACTLY professional quality, but once you’re up to speed you’ll all be welcome to audition for parts. Or rather, encouraged to audition!” The six of us giggle as Miss Fullerton starts to head to her office, but I manage to intercept her before she enters.

“What’s up, Laura?” Miss Fullerton asks. “Are you having a problem with your shoes that you don’t want the other girls to know about? Because you looked REALLY good out there, I’ve taught other transgendered girls and just like them you can’t tell the difference…”

“I’M okay,” I say. “It… It’s Ashley.”

“Ah, you’re missing him,” Miss Fullerton laughs. “He’ll be in this class soon enough, he’s really devoted to his ballet…”

“He’s, um,” I say hesitantly, wary about ‘stepping on Ashley’s toes’, “he’s sort-of asked me to ask you if he could… Maybe… Take pointe lessons?”

“Huh,” Miss Fullerton says, clearly surprised by the news. “Well, it’s unusual but hardly unheard of for boys to do pointe, I’m sure I could teach him… I’ll talk it over with him tomorrow. Thanks for letting me know, Laura. See you on Friday!”

“See you Friday!” I giggle, before heading outside and climbing into Priya & Suriya’s father’s car to be driven home, where I immediately head upstairs to switch on my tablet computer. I grin as I login to Facebook and see the name at the top of the ‘online’ list.

‘Hey Phil xxxx,’ I type to my boyfriend.

‘Hey Laura xxxx,’ Phil instantly replies. ‘How was ballet?’

‘It was so awesome,’ I reply. ‘Miss F took some photos, I’ll forward them to you once they’re uploaded x.’

‘Cool,’ Phil types with a smiling emoji.

‘What time you coming over on Sunday for my b-day?’ I type.

‘Not sure yet, will have to check with my dad,’ Phil types.

‘You’d better have got me something nice,’ I type with an evil grin on my face. ‘Something I enjoy as much as you enjoyed my present last month!’

‘I still liked the voucher for 100 free kisses best,’ Phil types, to which I reply with a winking emoji. ‘Can’t stay online long, dad’s yelling at me to finish my homework.’

‘Poor you,’ I type with a frowning emoji. ‘I haven’t even talked to my mum since I got home, lol. Talk soon xxxx.’

‘See you babe xxxx,’ Phil types before logging out. After switching off my tablet, I head downstairs to be confronted by a VERY disapproving stare from my mother.

“It would’ve been nice if you’d said ‘hi’ before immediately going upstairs and chatting with your friends on Facebook,” mum sighs.

“’Hi’,” I say. “And I wasn’t talking to friends, I was talking to my boyfriend…”

“Ah, even better,” mum says sarcastically. “What time’s he coming over on Sunday?”

“He’s gonna check with my dad and let me know,” I say.

“Okay,” mum says, nodding her head as the smile slowly returns to her face. “More importantly, how was ballet?”

“It was a-ma-zing!” I giggle. “Even if my feet are kinda sore now…”

“Well, better get used to that, Darcey Bussell!” Mum says, making me laugh happily. I spend the rest of the night finishing homework, not stripping off my ballet uniform despite mum’s protests that she needs to wash it ahead of my second lesson of the week on Friday. I go to bed with a wide grin on my face, which is even wider when I wake up on Wednesday and head to school, wearing a thong underneath my uniform due to it being gymnastics club this afternoon.

As I stretch my long-sleeved leotard over my body in my ‘private changing room’, I sigh happily, especially as I turn my head to see Nicole and Suriya either side of me changing into their leotards. The sound of four more members of the gymnastics team stood behind me, also changing into their leotards, makes me almost indescribably happy and content.

“Okay, come on!” Chloe- a tiny year 11 girl who’s the captain of the gymnastics team- says once she’s tied her long brown hair back with a sparkly scrunchie. “Mrs. Hall’s announcing the squad for the inter-school competition today!” The seven of us in the ‘private changing room’ all giggle as we head up to the gymnasium, where we begin practising our routines. My specialisation is rhythmic gymnastics, my favourite discipline being with the ribbon, and after I demonstrate my routine for the rest of the class I receive a standing ovation from all of my leotard-clad teammates.

“Brilliant, Laura,” Mrs. Hall says. “Okay, Nicole, you’re next.” I take a seat, giggling at the feel of the cold wooden floor against my bare thighs, as Nicole performs her routine. Whilst last year, Nicole did rhythmic gymnastics like myself and Suriya, this year, for some reason, she’s switched to artistic gymnastics and is performing a floor routine with twists, turns and tumbles, and whilst she’s very good at it, even I can see she’s not quite a match for the year 10 and 11 girls, and as the age categories are split into ‘under 13’ and ‘under 16’, it’s that age group against whom Nicole will be competing for a place on the team. Nonetheless, all the girls (myself included, of course) give the brown-haired girl a standing ovation at the completion of her routine.

“Okay,” Mrs. Hall says after the applause dies down. “I’ll announce the under 13 team next week after they’ve had a chance to audition, but I’ll tell you the under-16 team now. Artistic- Vault: Sophie. Artistic- Uneven bars and Balance beam: Daphne. Artistic- Floor: Naomi. Rhythmic- Ball and Hoop: Jodie. Rhythmic- Ribbon: Laura. Rhythmic- clubs: Sally-Jo. Rhythmic- Team: Jodie, Laura and Suriya. Well done to everyone who made the team, and to those who didn’t: don’t give up, work hard and improve and I’m sure you’ll get a chance next time.” I gasp as my name is called for not one, but two events- yet another sign of the faith the school has in me not just as a girl, but as a representative of the school. A quick look to my left, however, tells me that one of my friends isn’t at all happy about the announcements.

“I’m sure you’ll get in the team for the summer competition,” I say to Nicole, who simply grins and shrugs off the rejection.

“It was always going to be hard switching from one to another,” Nicole sighs as we head down to the ‘private changing room’. “We can’t all be short like you two!” I force myself to keep smiling, despite Nicole somehow turning her rejection into a dig at my lack of ‘development’.

“Hey you two!” Jodie- a girl in the year above and mine and Suriya’s new teammate- suddenly squeaks as she gives myself and the small Indian girl a quick hug. “This is gonna be so cool, you two are so talented at gymnastics! Even if I DID want the ribbon competition as well…”

“Sorry,” I say with a sarcastic shrug, making Jodie and Suriya giggle.

“Oh, I guess I’m gonna have to be even more polite to your sister now,” Jodie says to Suriya. “She’s in most of my classes…”

“Don’t bother, I’m never polite to her!” Suriya says, making the older girl snort with laughter.

“Even in my year, you girls are seen as ‘the cool ones’,” Jodie says, making me glow internally with pride.

“Now that you’re on our ‘team’, you can hang out with us if you want,” I say as I pull my skirt and my tights back on over my leotard.

“Aww, thanks!” Jodie giggles. “May have to take you up on that offer, especially as we have practice we need to do!” Suriya and I both smile as Jodie finished changing and heads off to her final lesson of the day, whilst Suriya, Nicole and I head to ours.

Once our school day is finished, I head out to my mum’s car as usual, but as today is Wednesday, I don’t go home alone. As with year 8, I save one night a week to spend with Megan- my closest friend- and in year 9, that night is tonight. As the tall, long-haired girl sits down next to me on the back seat of mum’s car, I can’t help but be continually amazed by her transformation.

I first met Megan at the start of junior school six years ago. I was an awkward seven year old boy who didn’t understand why the girls were reluctant to play with me, and Megan was the awkward seven year old girl with long, bushy hair, thick glasses and who was (as bad as it is for me to say) slightly overweight. Obviously, we quickly became friends, the ‘outcasts’ that the popular kids ignored, and we both felt comfortable in that role, though we did get a few more friends before we left primary school. Even at the start of secondary school, we settled into the role of ‘outcasts’- though that was obviously more due to me than anything Megan- or any of our other gang- did.

Then, after the start of year 8 and my ‘rise to fame’, things changed. Our gang went from being the ‘losers’ to some of the most popular kids in the whole school. Suddenly, I- the transgendered girl- and Megan- who was still bushy-haired, bespectacled and a little overweight- were getting smiles from the other kids instead of sneers. Whilst it felt awkward at first, we both gradually grew very comfortable with our popularity. My hair started to grow back, I experimented more with fashion and make-up and, most significantly, I got a boyfriend. Whilst Megan was concerned at first with my ‘change’, she soon embraced the change too- her hair grew more ‘styled’ and less ‘wild’, she started to wear more make-up, her glasses changed from cheap frames to designer ones, she grew taller and more slender, and she also got a boyfriend- though it took a LOT of persistence from Joey and a lot of persuasion from her friends before Megan finally agreed to go out with him! The difference between the shy, awkward girl from the start of year 8 and the cool, confident girl now, at the start of year 9, is remarkable- and one mum always comments on every Wednesday night after Megan’s mother comes to pick her up.

After a quick dinner (which I make a point of finishing every bite of), the two of us head up to my bedroom to do our homework, though the instant my door is shut, we instantly forget about homework and fall into a gossip session.

“Oh my god,” Megan gasps. “That was SO cool at ballet last night!”

“I know!” I squeak excitedly. “Especially you, miss extra-taller ballerina! Can you believe that two years ago, I actually had to try to persuade you to join the class?”

“I’m so glad you did,” Megan giggles. “My feet are KILLING me, though…”

“Tell me about it,” I say, removing my shoes and my tights and flexing my sore toes. “You know, neither of us have PE tomorrow or Friday…” Megan giggles excitedly and removes her own shoes and tights as I take a wad of cotton wool and a bottle of dark blue nail polish from my dressing table, and we spend the next twenty minutes carefully painting each other’s toenails.

“I can’t believe Nicole didn’t get on the gymnastics team,” I sigh. “Has she seemed a little ‘off’ to you lately?”

“Maybe a little,” Megan shrugs. “Can’t believe she didn’t tell us about Jordan, that boy was absolutely devoted to her. As he should be, of course…”

“As devoted as Joey is to you?” I ask, making Megan giggle.

“Maybe not,” Megan laughs. “Or as devoted as Phil is to you!”

“Ugh, whenever I talk to him,” I sigh.

“Well he’s at a different school,” Megan says. “It’s not like you get to see him day in, day out like I do with Joey…”

“Yeah, I guess,” I say. “He could still make more of an effort, though. At least I’ll get to see him tomorrow at rehearsals!”

“Aww, the real-life Romeo and Juliet,” Megan teases. “Do you get to do an on-stage kiss?”

“Maybe,” I say coyly, making Megan gasp and giggle.

“Oh, that is going to be SO cool,” Megan sighs. “Assuming you get Juliet and Phil gets Romeo, of course…”

“Why d’you think I’m growing my nails?” I ask. “Any girl other than me gets to kiss Phil, I’ll claw their eyes out…”

“Hehe, you go girl!” Megan laughs as we finish our nails and pull our tights back on. Megan leaves about an hour later after doing a little bit of homework, leaving me by myself. I switch my tablet computer on and login to Facebook hoping to catch Phil online, only to find that his status is set to ‘unavailable’. I leave him a quick message anyway- with a whole string of ‘x’s on the end, of course- before switching off my tablet and getting ready for bed. As I sleep, though, the smile I’ve worn over the past two days starts to fade. My talk with Megan has highlighted one thing- I put a hell of a lot more into my relationship with Phil than he does…

Nonetheless, I still have a smile on my face when I meet my six friends at the school gate on Thursday morning, and as we sit around our usual table for lunch. Between dance club on Monday, drama on Tuesday and gymnastics yesterday, we don’t get a lot of opportunities for all seven of us to hang out, so we always make sure to make the most of what time we do get.

“What time do you want us to come over on Sunday, Miss soon-to-be-fourteen?” Harriet asks me, making me blush shyly.

“Any time after 11’s fine,” I say. “Sucks that it’s a Sunday so we can’t stay up late…”

“We’ll just have to make the most of it, then!” Priya giggles. “Pity you couldn’t come over for the Diwali celebrations last night, the fireworks were so beautiful…”

“Maybe next year,” Nicole says. “Sooo… Who got their boxes last night?”

“Me!” Suriya laughs. “Dad nearly threw a fit when I went to the firework display wearing glittery silver eye shadow as well as my sari!”

“You mean ‘us’,” Priya chastises her younger sister. “You owe me for that eye shadow!” I force a smile on my face as the girls all discuss the treats they got through the post yesterday, even though I know I’m not going to be receiving said treats anytime soon. As we leave the dinner table though, my feeling sorry for myself about the box eases slightly as Suriya and I walk to our next class alongside Ashley- who must feel at least a hundred times worse than I do right now.

“Hey Ash,” I say. “You were quiet during lunch…”

“So were you, and it’s your birthday on Sunday!” Ashley retorts, making Suriya and I both giggle.

“Yeah,” Suriya says. “Is- is it about the box?”

“Yeah- no- ugh, maybe a little…” I sigh. “I know it sounds lame…”

“No, not at all,” Suriya says softly. “Sometimes I forget how well off my family is…”

“I mean it sounds lame,” I say, “because of how well off I am next to, you know…”

“Next to me,” Ashley sighs. “It’s okay, I don’t mind…”

“You SHOULD mind,” I say. “For me it’s just a stupid box, for you, it’s your whole life…”

“Less of the ‘stupid’ when describing the box, please!” Suriya says, making all three of us giggle as we head to our final classes of the day. After the bell rings to signify the end of the school day, Suriya, Nicole, Harriet, Ashley and I all pile into the back of Mr. Malik’s people carrier (Priya gets a lift home from her mum), and soon we’re outside the school where we’ll be rehearsing for this year’s play- and more importantly, the school attended by my boyfriend!

“Hey boo,” I say as I approach Phil from behind and playfully cover his eyes with my hands.

“Hey, Laura,” Phil says, giving me a quick, awkward kiss whilst nobody’s looking. I can kinda understand his awkwardness- I look young for my age, whilst he and his 5’ 8” body look older than his fourteen years- but it’s still a bit frustrating when Phil acts like this around me.

“Put your name down for Romeo yet, Romeo?” I giggle, making Phil chuckle awkwardly.

“Umm, yeah…” Phil says, scratching his head and grimacing. “Laura… There’s- there’s something I kinda need to say…”

“What is it?” I ask, only for the two of us to be suddenly interrupted.

“Hey guys!” Nicole squeaks happily, before turning to Phil. “Hey boo!” I watch on in horror as Nicole leans into my boyfriend- MY boyfriend- and gives him a long, soft kiss on his lips.

“What the hell are you doing!?” I squeak, inadvertently drawing attention to our corner of the room.

“Laura…” Phil stutters. “I, um, I think we shouldn’t see each other anymore…”

“Is this a joke?” I screech.

“Laura?” Harriet asks. “Wh-what’s happening?” I open my mouth to talk, but can only babble incoherently, my emotions scrambling even further as Nicole links her fingers with my now ex-boyfriend’s and rolls her eyes at me.

“Oh- get over yourself,” Nicole sighs. “Jordan’s free, you’re welcome to him if you want…”

“You…” Harriet snarls in a tone far angrier than I’ve ever heard anyone use.

“Laura,” Phil stammers as he wilts under Harriet’s glare. “I- I wanted to wait until I could talk to you face to face, I didn’t want to, you know, um, by text or Facebook…”

“Oh, and that makes it so much better does it?” Harriet sneers in a sarcastic tone. “Don’t take a single step closer to me or Laura, or I’ll rip off your balls and scratch out your eyes!”

“What’s going on here?” Mr. Easton angrily asks as tears begin to stream down my face. My boyfriend and my best friend… How could they? How DARE they? “Laura, are you alright?” All I manage to do is shake my head as Harriet places a comforting arm around my shoulders and leads me out of the large hall and into the nearby girl’s toilets, where I break down in floods of tears.

“Why?” I whine as Harriet keeps me supplied with tissues. “Why did they do this?”

“Because he’s a stupid boy and she’s a selfish bitch,” Harriet sneers.

“But Nicole!” I moan. “Of all people…”

“I am SO glad I have zero interest in boys,” Harriet says as I take several deep breaths. As my mind calms down, however, my stomach doesn’t, and I loudly retch, startling Harriet.

“Oh god, Laura…” Harriet moans. “No, please no, please try to keep it down…” Despite my friend’s pleas, my stomach creases once again and I rush into the nearest toilet cubicle, loudly vomiting into the bowl.

“I’m sorry,” I weakly as I wipe my mouth.

“Please tell me this isn’t happening again…” Harriet whines. “I don’t want to have to watch you get driven away in an ambulance again…”

“I’m okay,” I whisper. “I’m- I’m not going to throw up again…”

“I’m calling your mum,” Harriet announces, taking her phone out of her bag.

“No,” I whisper, my body suddenly gripped by panic. If mum finds out that I’ve been sick…

“She needs to know,” Harriet says. “About the break-up, if not the throw-up… Do you really want to stay here?” I open my mouth to answer, but am soon interrupted by a third person entering the ‘facilities’.

“Hey Laura,” Suriya says quietly. “Mr. Easton sent me in to see how you are… They’re about to start rehearsals, um, he says that if you don’t rehearse today, you won’t get the role of Juliet…”

“How is that fair?” Harriet spits. “Laura’s obviously unwell!”

“Still, that’s what he said,” Suriya grimaces.

“…I just want to go home,” I moan, “Nicole can have Juliet, I don’t care anymore…”

“Okay,” Suriya whispers, clearly as worried as Harriet is.

“I’m going to go with you,” Harriet says firmly.

“…That might cost you a part in the play as well,” Suriya whispers.

“I don’t care,” Harriet says. “If I even SEE Nicole I’ll claw her eyes out…” I sigh and sit down on the toilet as Harriet presses one of the speed dial numbers on her phone.

“Hi,” Harriet says into her phone. “Is that Mrs. White? Hi, it’s Harriet Cooper, Laura’s friend… She’s feeling a little unwell, can you come and pick her up? …Yes, yes she has, but only once.” I grimace as Harriet pauses- obviously mum just asked if I was sick, and even though I never vomited THAT much when I was struggling with bulimia, even once is too many times…

Twenty minutes later, mum arrives and immediately wraps me in a tight, loving hug as Harriet watches on, Suriya having long since returned to rehearsals.

“Are you okay? What’s happened?” Mum asks.

“It- it’s Phil,” I sniffle. “He dumped me… he dumped me for Nicole!” I sob as mum sighs and gives me yet another hug- as recently as two months ago, this sort of contact would’ve had me squirming with memories of my ordeal at my father’s hands, but now, all I want to do is stay in the hug for as long as I can.

“Of all the ‘firsts’ I wanted to watch you have,” mum says, “’first broken heart’ was NOT on that list. How- how’s your stomach feeling?”

“It’s okay,” I half-lie.

“Can you face food?” Mum asks, before frowning and hugging me again as I shake my head. “You know you need to be careful about this, you can’t afford to be throwing up everywhere…”

“I only threw up once,” I say defensively. “I can eat tomorrow, I just- I just want to go home and go to bed…”

“Okay, okay,” mum says, leading me out to her car. “Thank you for calling, Harriet- you’re a good friend. Do you need a lift home?”

“Please,” Harriet says, climbing into the car next to me and watching over me as I cry all the way home. Even though it’s barely 7:30 by the time I arrive home, I immediately strip off my clothes and climb into bed, crying myself to sleep as the level of betrayal sinks in. Nicole was the first friend I ever made ‘as Laura’, she was the one who accepted me before anyone… How could she do this to me?

I wake up the following morning just after 6am with tears still slowly falling from my eyes, and I lay awake in bed until my alarm forces me to get up, even though I barely have enough energy to walk downstairs.

“Hey Laura,” mum says softly, giving me a gentle hug as I sit down at the kitchen table. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrible,” I sigh. “I- I really can’t face Nicole today, not after what she did…”

“I can’t imagine how that must feel,” mum sighs. “Your supposed best friend stealing your boyfriend…”

“It’s obviously been going on for a while, it didn’t ‘just happen’,” I sob. “That [b***h] has been lying to my face for weeks… How? How could she do this?” Mum sighs and gives me another hug as I once again break down in tears.

“Funny you’re only blaming Nicole,” mum muses. “Phil didn’t HAVE to, you know…”

“He was a useless boyfriend anyway,” I sigh. “Never came to see me in the Spring whilst I was, you know, ‘recovering’, never made any time for me…”

“And yet you’re still torn up over him,” mum sighs.

“I loved him,” I sob, breaking down in tears yet again. “He was the first guy I ever ‘liked’…”

“I know, I know,” mum sighs, giving me yet another hug. “Can you face some breakfast? Maybe a little toast?”

“…Maybe a little,” I mumble. “Mum, I- I really can’t face going into school today…”

“I’ll call in, tell them that you’re sick,” mum says. “But you’re going back on Monday no matter what, and I’m NOT calling in for you for any future break-ups, okay?”

“Okay,” I nod as the sweet-smelling toast is pushed underneath my face, and immediately I start to feel ill again. I force the toast down my throat, but once it’s in my stomach it feels like an entire extra-large pizza is churning around inside me. One thing I’d forgotten after last night was just how good it felt to have an empty stomach… And right now it’s taking all of my willpower to fight the urge to ‘empty’ myself.

After mum makes her phone call, I head to the sofa- still clad in just my nightie and my dressing gown- and huddle under the cushions as the strains of daytime TV flow in one ear and out the other as I slowly try to rationalise why Nicole- and Phil- would do what they did. Nicole’s always been ‘trendy’, even more obsessed with fashion and make-up than I am, so it’d make sense that she’d want to go out with the younger brother of a celebrity, and Phil’s grown increasingly uncomfortable with ‘us’ since he had his growth spurt and I haven’t... But for them to just thoughtlessly discard me, the way Nicole said ‘get over yourself’… REAL friends don’t ever do that to each other.

After a few hours of television, I’ve calmed down enough- or my brain has been sufficiently numbed by the TV- that I’ve stopped crying and am beginning to feel better. Shortly after breakfast, mum headed up to my room and handed me a large wad of notes I’ve made during my meetings with Dr Williamson, and they have been a great help in settling my mood and helping me see the whole situation rationally. One thing that was proven by Harriet’s actions last night is that my friends are going to stand by me- and, more importantly, against Nicole. I briefly consider cancelling my birthday party this coming Sunday, but that would probably do more harm than good- what I need to do now is surround myself with the people who really matter, not push them away.

Just after midday, a genuine smile returns to my face as a knock comes at the door and my grandmother (Grandma Clarke, my mother’s mother) comes into the house and gives me another long, tight hug.

“I hear someone got their heart broken by a stupid boy who isn’t nearly good enough for them, is this right?” Grandma asks, making me giggle and nod. “Well you just forget about that idiot. You’re only fourteen- well, almost fourteen- you’re too young for boys anyway!”

“I really, really liked him, though,” I sigh. “And he dum- he dumped me for my best friend… Well, one of them, anyway…”

“You don’t need friends like that,” grandma sneers, making me laugh even more. “You’ve still got plenty of REAL friends, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” I giggle.

“And I trust they’ll all be coming over on Sunday to help you celebrate your birthday?” Grandma asks.

“…Yes,” I say with a smile.

“Well then,” grandma says with a satisfied grin. “Seems like you’re in far too good a place to be laid on this sofa feeling sorry for yourself!” I laugh at grandma’s stern, but playful command, but sigh as I remember what else happened last night.

“I- I was kinda sick last night,” I say, noticeably darkening grandma’s mood.

“’Kinda’ sick?” Grandma asks.

“I threw up,” I whisper. “Because of the stress…”

“Well you don’t seem as stressed now,” grandma says. “You won’t be throwing up again, will you?”

“No,” I say, though in the few hours since I ate breakfast, if anything my stomach has felt fuller and fuller…

“Good,” grandma says. “I’m going to make sure that by the time I leave, you’ll feel bright and happy and ready to take on the world! First things first- you go and get dressed. And for god’s sake, put some make-up on! We don’t want the world thinking that you’re a boy now, do we?” I giggle as grandma playfully chastises me, and I immediately jump off the sofa, heading upstairs and- as ordered- applying a moderate layer of make-up, before painting my fingernails the same dark blue colour as my toenails. Once my make-up is done, I pull on a clean thong (it IS a ballet night, after all) followed by a training bra, a lacy vest, a pair of translucent tights, a short black skirt and a lilac jumper. After exchanging the gold studs in my earlobes for a pair of sparkling hoops and brushing out my hair, I look in the mirror and grin at the cute teenaged girl smiling back at me- though the only thing I can think of is ‘Phil doesn’t know what he’s missing’…

“What a beautiful young woman!” Grandma exclaims as I re-enter the living room. “Even if you are wearing too much make-up and your skirt is too short… I think I can ignore that just this one time!” I giggle as I sit down next to grandma and she fusses with my hair a little more.

“You really are beautiful, Laura,” mum says as grandma takes a brush from her handbag and starts brushing my hair.

“It’s a wonder you haven’t turned the head of every young man at your school!” Grandma says.

“Oh, our Laura has had more than her fair share of admirers,” mum giggles. “Didn’t you tell me that you get asked out every week by one boy after another?”

“Maybe not EVERY week,” I say.

“AND she’s in either the top or second set for every class she takes,” mum continues. “AND she’s in the dance squad, the gymnastics team, she’s an actress and a ballerina…”

“Sounds like any boy would give their right arm to be Laura’s boyfriend,” grandma comments. “NOT that you should immediately find another boy to go out with! And you must certainly must not get back together with that ‘Phil’ idiot if he decides he’s bored of your ex-friend a few months down the line!”

“No danger of that,” I say with a smile as grandma finishes brushing my hair. “I’m taking a long, long break from BOYS!”

“Good girl,” grandma laughs, before standing up. “I know exactly what Laura needs right now!”

“I’ve already got the ingredients laid out and ready,” mum says with a chuckle.

“…Ingredients?” I ask.

“For my patented pink pudding!” Grandma laughs. “Guaranteed to cure everything that’s wrong with you, including heartbreak!”

“What’s in this pudding?” I ask cautiously.

“Jelly, blancmange, strawberries, a little bit of chocolate… All the best things in the world!” Grandma says, beaming with pride.

“You’ve eaten it before, on your eighth birthday, remember?” Mum asks. “You loved it back then…” Yes, back when I WASN’T recovering from an obsession with my weight…

“I made it for your mother after she broke up with her first boyfriend,” grandma explains as she heads into the kitchen and starts mixing ingredients together. “Got to keep the family tradition alive, after all!”

“And to be fair, I was devastated for DAYS after I broke up with him,” mum laughs as she helps grandma mix the fattening-looking dessert. Not long later, I have a bowl of the sickening-looking dark pink confection shoved in front of my face and handed a spoon. I gulp slightly as mum and grandma look on expectantly, before plunging my spoon into the dessert, digging out a small blob and putting in my mouth. Grandma wasn’t lying when she said it was one of the best things in the world- I’ve never had much of a sweet tooth but it tastes amazing, like every piece of candy I’ve ever eaten all rolled into one… With all the calories of every piece of candy I’ve ever eaten all rolled into one. It takes me a while, but I finish the bowl and sit back on the sofa, my stomach feeling fuller than ever.

“There, now,” grandma says as she takes away my bowl. “Don’t you feel better?”

“A little,” I sigh as I adjust the waistband of my tights to try to ease the feeling of bloating.

“The sweetest dessert in the world for the sweetest girl in the world!” Mum laughs.

“I, um, I’m just going to go upstairs,” I say, earning concerned stares from mum and grandma. “I’m going to get my tablet… Going to remove Phil from my Facebook…”

“Okay,” mum says, her voice betraying the fact that she doesn’t fully believe me- and she may be right not to do so, as with every step I take up the stairs, my stomach churns more and more, and facing me when I reach the top of the stairs is our bathroom, and more importantly, our toilet.

The last seven months since I received my bulimia diagnosis have been hard, but I’ve been able to remain strong every time I got the urge to ‘purge’- and there have been more than just a few urges. Every time I felt the ‘urge’, I would do one of Dr Williamson’s relaxation techniques, or chat to my friends by phone or on Facebook… Or talk to Phil…

Over the months, the urges got less and less severe, but right now, with my heart ripped in two and my stomach the size of a beach ball, the urge to empty myself is almost uncontrollable. Choking back tears, I enter the bathroom and lock the door, before crouching down in front of the toilet. If I throw up once, it won’t count as a relapse, surely? And I was sick last night, I could always say it was a stomach bug or something…

I clench my ring and pinkie fingers on my right hand, keeping my index and middle fingers extended. With my hand shaking with fear, I place the two fingers on my tongue and slowly start sliding them back, whilst tears start to stream down my face…

“No,” I gasp, pulling my fingers out of my mouth and taking several deep breaths as I try to compose myself. “It’s just food, it’ll work its way through naturally, it’s just food, just food…” I lower the lid onto the toilet and flush it, before opening the bathroom door and gasping as I see mum and grandma staring at me with very disapproving looks on their faces.

“Please tell me you didn’t just do what I think you did,” mum says, her voice a hoarse whisper.

“I didn’t, I swear,” I plead.

“I wish I could believe you,” mum says, making my heart break once more. “Let me smell your breath.” I open my mouth and exhale into mum’s face, who breathes a sigh of relief and smiles.

“Strawberries,” mum says. “Doesn’t smell like vomit at all.” Grandma also breathes a sigh of relief at the news and smiles as I head into my bedroom, as promised, and emerge a few seconds later with my tablet computer. I shed a single tear as I scroll to Phil’s profile on Facebook and unceremoniously tap ‘delete’, before shedding even more tears as I scroll to Nicole’s to tap ‘delete’. Once I’ve unfriended her, though, I’m surprised to see that she and I share very few mutual friends- and a quick check shows that Nicole has also been removed from Harriet’s, Priya’s and Suriya’s friend lists. She’s still on Megan’s and Ashley’s friends lists, but I’m confident that she’ll be removed eventually, a confidence that’s strengthened when a knock comes on my door just after 3:30pm to reveal all five of my friends’ smiling faces.

“Hey Laura!” Megan squeaks happily. “We missed you at school today… Can we come in?”

“Mum?” I ask expectantly.

“Oh, go on,” mum laughs, making Megan, Harriet, Priya, Suriya and Ashley all cheer as they pile into the house, which also makes grandma laugh.

“Hello Mrs. Clarke,” Priya says.

“Hello girls and boy,” grandma says, before turning to Ashley. “Lucky you, hanging out with five friendly, good-looking girls at your age!”

“Thanks,” Ashley laughs nervously.

“I’ll take this as my cue to leave,” grandma chuckles. “Don’t want your old grandmother getting in the way… You’ve Sunday to look forward to for that!”

“Heh, see you, grandma,” I say, giving the older woman another quick hug as she leaves.

“Your grandmother’s so cool,” Suriya says.

“Yeah, she is,” I say, before taking a deep, awkward breath. “What did I miss at school today?”

“Nicole being told where she can shove it!” Harriet says with an almost evil-sounding laugh.

“Seriously,” Suriya sighs. “She honestly thought it was no big deal, thought we’d just carry on as usual.”

“I- I just… Thanks,” I say, triggering a group hug. “You’re the cool ones, all five of you.”

“Nicole’s eyes are intact though, aren’t they?” I ask, making Harriet giggle.

“It was a close thing, but yes,” the ginger-haired girl laughs. “I’m sure a month or two of sitting by herself at lunch will make her apologise… God knows it worked for me…”

“I hope so,” I say. “I liked her… She’s welcome to Phil though, the dirty little rat…”

“Yeah,” Harriet laughs. “Boys suck!”

“No offence, Ashley,” Megan giggles.

“None taken,” Ashley laughs, before checking to see that he’s alone. “Because I’m not a boy!”

“Damn right,” I say with a supportive smile.

“And,” Megan announces in a grand voice, “we may have brought you something, sort-of an early birthday present…” I gasp happily as Megan pulls a pink cardboard box out of her school bag, a box I instantly recognise as the Angels’ mystery box.

“Oh my god!” I squeak. “For me!?!?”

“We’ve kinda each put in one item we didn’t want,” Priya says. “So it’s not a full box, but it is a box, and it is a mystery what’s in it!”

“This is so cool, you didn’t have to do this…” I sigh happily.

“Just open it!” Suriya giggles. I obey, cutting over the sellotaped-shut box to find a bottle of glittery red nail polish, a small tube of mascara and a set of promotional photocards with images of the Angels on them- but even this manages to make me feel sad when I flick to the photocards with pictures of Phil’s sister on them.

“I told you we should have torn those out,” Priya chastises her younger sister.

“Sorry,” Suriya grimaces, before smiling again as she addresses me. “We were going to paint your nails with that polish now, but that blue is far too good to get rid of!”

“Thanks!” I giggle, splaying my fingers for my friends to inspect. “God, even this is making me remember the first time I had my nails done, when we went round to Nicole’s place…”

“Forget about that bitch!” Harriet sneers.

“I wouldn’t be TOO harsh,” Priya says. “I know her little brother is autistic, Nicole herself might be, you know…”

“I don’t care,” Megan says. “You DON’T do that to a friend.”

“Are you coming to ballet tonight?” Suriya asks. “You don’t look, you know, ‘sick’ any more…”

“God, I dunno,” I sigh. “I mean, I LOVE ballet, but she’ll be there…”

“You’ll have to face her sooner or later,” Priya says. “Better do it when you’ve got all your friends backing you up.”

"AND it's your last lesson before your birthday," Suriya says. "You know Miss Fullerton always likes to make a fuss..."

"...Okay then," I laugh, making my friends all cheer. The five of them leave about twenty minutes later, heading back to their homes for dinner. Despite my earlier 'close call', I just about manage to finish all of the light meal mum prepares for me, before heading up to my bedroom to change into my regulation pink tights and black leotard ahead of tonight's lesson.

"You know, you don't HAVE to go tonight," mum says as I head downstairs, my blonde hair pinned tightly to my head and my body covered in a flimsy black skirt and a soft pink cardigan.

"No, I promised the girls I would," I sigh. "Besides, I've only just got my pointe shoes, can't really afford to let my practice slip now..."

"Okay," mum says with clear worry in her voice. "But I'm staying to watch you, okay?"

"You really, really don't have to," I say, cringing at the thought of mum embarrassing me in front of the other, older girls.

"No, but I'm going to anyway," mum says. "I'm sure that if I'm there, Nicole will know better than to cause a scene."

"Well- okay, I guess," I say, though the look mum gives me as we get in the car tells me that it's much more likely that she's coming to prevent ME from causing a scene.

As usual, I'm the last to arrive at the dance studio, and when I arrive, I'm gratified to see Megan, Harriet, Priya and Suriya all talking with each other, with Nicole sat on the other side of the waiting area- just as my friends had promised. However, the mere sight of the brown-haired girl makes me grimace. The last time I saw her, she was kissing my boyfriend- my EX-boyfriend...

"Hey girlies!" I squeak to my four friends, who all greet me with hugs.

"Hey Laura!" Miss Fullerton says with a smile. "So, last lesson as a thirteen year old..." I giggle and blush at Miss Fullerton's teasing, before her facial expression turns into one of confusion. "Why is Nicole sat over there and not over here? Has then been a fight or something?"

"Ugh," I spit. "If- when you see Viks, Victoria, can you please ask her to tell her brother that he's a complete arsehole?"

"What- nooo, really?" Miss Fullerton asks, before sighing. "And Nicole? That- god... Don't worry, I'll make sure your message is passed on. And I'll make sure you and Nicole don't have any contact tonight, I'll switch around the order so that you're not working together for the foreseeable future. And just before your birthday, too..."

"Thanks," I say with a smile as we- and the rest of the students- head into the studio. I grimace slightly as I see my mum sit down in one of the chairs to the side of the studio, but she's far enough away that it doesn't affect my concentration too much- and more importantly, so is Nicole. Even as we change into our pointe shoes halfway through the lesson and she sits mere feet away from me, I don't let her get to me, but as the lesson finishes and she reaches into her bag for her phone, I feel my anger start to rise. When she starts sending a text message and giggling at the response, I literally start shaking with rage- that text could only have been for Phil.

"Don't let her get to you," Megan whispers to me as she sees my face scrunch up into a frown. She really, really isn't worth it." Despite the advice of my best friend, one more giggle from Nicole proves to be the final straw, and before I know it, I'm stood face to face with the surprised girl.

"I'm waiting," I say through gritted teeth.

"For what?" Nicole snorts, making my hands clench into fists.

"For my apology," I spit.

"Apology for what?" Nicole giggles. "Phillykins wants to go out with ME, not YOU."

"Could you have found a way of letting me know that that didn't involve you being a total bitch?" I ask.

"Laura, we should go," mum says, approaching me and trying to separate me from my former friend.

"Oh get over yourself already!" Nicole snorts. "I already told you you can have Jordan if you want."

"You-" I snap, before taking a deep breath. "You were a lying bitch to him as well over the last few weeks, then?"

"I never lied," Nicole sighs. "If you'd asked me if I was going out with Phil, I'd have said yes!"

"How the hell does that make it better?" I retort. By now, the entire studio has fallen silent as our argument continues to increase in volume.

"Laura, Nicole, enough," Miss Fullerton says as she steps between us.

"What. Ever," Nicole snorts. "Obviously Phil just wanted a- a-" I bristle as Nicole struggles to finish her sentence. If you say 'real girl', I think to myself, I swear I will KILL you...

"A what?" I growl.

"A girl who's less than a foot shorter than him," Nicole says, rising en pointe to drive her argument home. My frown subsides, as much as I hate her right now- and as much as she obviously hates me- she didn't go down the 'obvious' route, so hopefully there is SOME chance we can be friends again in the future. I snort and roll my eyes as Nicole walks off en pointe, but before Nicole even take two steps, I- and the rest of the class- watch in horror as she suddenly wobbles, before pitching sideways and landing hard on the polished wooden floor, her foot making a loud, sickening crack as it twists in a highly unnatural manner.

"Oh my god, Nicole!" Miss Fullerton exclaims as Nicole takes several deep breaths before moaning in pure agony. "Someone get me my phone and the first aid kit from my office!"

"Owww... Goddddd..." Nicole moans as she clutches her ankle, which is already starting to swell. Right now, there's a part of me that wants nothing more than to go over and stomp on her ankle... But looking at her, all I feel is guilt. I'm the one who started the fight, it's my fault that Nicole's in pain right now... And whatever she did, she didn't deserve a broken ankle in response.

I keep my distance as Nicole is driven away in an ambulance, but as I climb into mum's car to go home (accompanied by Megan and Harriet), I immediately moan in frustration at the situation.

"What's wrong?" Harriet asks. "Nicole had it coming for what she did to you."

"AND Miss Fullerton specifically warned us not to show off in pointe shoes," Megan says. "Nicole wasn't just having a go at you, she was ignoring her..."

"Still though," I sigh. "Doesn't mean she deserved THAT..."

"Wonder if Phil will still be interested in her if she hobbles around everywhere for the next six months?" Harriet asks, making Megan giggle and me cringe.

"Can we talk about something else, please?" I ask, silencing my two friends. All the way home, I'm consumed by guilt about starting the argument- out of all of us, Nicole was the one who was most excited about getting her pointe shoes, now she won't be able to dance in them again for months, and may never be able to dance in them again...

I immediately strip off my dancewear when I get home and change back into the skirt and jumper I was wearing earlier, before diving into the weekend's homework in an attempt to distract me from my guilt, but it soon gets the better of me, causing me to reach for my tablet computer and log into Facebook. I quickly browse to Nicole's profile, and after briefly pausing, tap the 'add friend' button. Even though I don't want to be her friend, this will be the easiest way to keep in touch with her, to see how she is...

Unsurprisingly, Nicole doesn't come online for the rest of the night, leaving me still wracked with guilt as I head to bed and as I wake up the following morning. Even though it's a Saturday, I'm unable to relax in bed, so I get up just after 8am and head downstairs, obviously surprising my mother.

"Your birthday's not until tomorrow," mum laughs as I sit down at the breakfast table. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Couldn't sleep," I sigh. "Feel really bad about Nicole..."

"You shouldn't," mum says. "Whilst I don't agree with your friends that she 'had it coming', she was warned by your teacher not to misuse her pointe shoes, and she still chose to do exactly that."

"But she wouldn't have if I hadn’t gone over to her," I sigh.

"She made her own choices," mum says. "It's not going to do you or anyone else any good by dwelling on it, especially not as it's your special day tomorrow."

"Okay," I say. "I'll- I'll stop feeling sorry for myself about it, I promise."

"Good girl," mum says with a smile. "What do you have planned for today?"

"Think we're all going to Ashley's today," I say.

"Now I do like THAT boy," mum says. "He'd be a much better boyfriend for you than Phil."

"I guess," I say. "But, well, one, he's taken..." Two, he's not really a boy, three, I'm not attracted to girls...

"...And two?" Mum asks, making me inwardly curse my choice of words.

"...I'm not really attracted to him," I say with a shrug. "He's nice, yeah, but as a friend, not a BOYfriend..."

"Huh," mum says. "Well, you are only fourteen- well, thirteen years and three hundred and sixty-four days- no need to rush into getting a new boyfriend just yet!"

"Yep!" I giggle. "Done with boys for the time being!"

"Good girl," mum says yet again. "Now get some breakfast down you and go and get changed, don't want to keep your not-boyfriend waiting!" I smile as I eat my small breakfast, before heading upstairs and changing into a cute knee-length purple dress and a pair of black tights. I also fold up my old ballet leotard- which is no longer needed since my 'promotion' to Miss Fullerton's advanced class- and stuff it into a bag, ready to hand it over to a girl who needs it more than I do.

"Aww," Ashley says later as I hand her the package in the privacy of her bedroom. "You didn't need to, it's your birthday tomorrow, I should be the one giving you a present!"

"Hehe," I giggle. "Well, it's less a 'gift' and more 'recycling'!"

"Still though, thanks," Ashley says with a shy smile that begins to make me see what mum was talking about- Ashley is a really nice boy- when that's what she's being forced to be- but as much as I hate being single, there's no way I could do to Suriya what Nicole did to me. And besides, like I told mum: I'm not into girls!

The rest of our gang- our new-look gang, minus Nicole- arrive a short while later, and I giggle as Suriya immediately grabs Ashley's arm and cuddles it close to her body as she's grown so fond of doing. We spend the rest of the morning and afternoon talking about clothes and make-up, and pretending not to do that whenever Ashley's parents- or his really cute little sister Cassie- poke their head around the door. For the first time in almost 48 hours, I allow myself to relax and forget all about Phil, Nicole or my waistline. I'm with friends- true friends- and regardless of whether I'm single, gaining weight or whatever, true friends will always be the best thing in the entire world.

...As I'm reminded when I wake up the following morning at 7am, not because of guilt, or anxiety, but because of excitement and a desire to celebrate the fourteenth anniversary of my birth. I head downstairs as quickly as I can to find mum sitting on her sofa with a wide grin on her face and a huge pile of presents next to her. After giving her a long, tight hug, I quickly unwrap the presents- there's the usual cosmetics and perfume sets, hair accessories, a new dress, two new skirts, a new long-sleeved ballet leotard and a very fancy pair of shoes with a chunky 3" platform heel that I instantly slip on my feet and parade around the house in, much to my mother's amusement.

My best present, however, is a brand-new mobile phone. All of my friends have their own phones- some of them very expensive iPhones- and mum obviously saw how left out I was feeling, so got me my own phone. It may not be as expensive or as fancy as an iPhone, but it still sends text messages, makes calls, and most important, can access Facebook.

"You get £10 of credit per month," mum explains. "If you use it all up, you have to wait for the next month to be able to use it again- unless, of course, you want to earn your own money!"

"Thank you thank you!" I giggle, hugging my mum with my new phone held firmly in hand.

"Of course, I'll probably never have a face to face conversation with you ever again," mum laughs as I switch on the already-charged phone and start adding contact numbers to it from my school notebook. After connecting to the house's Wi-Fi, I also log into Facebook, only to receive an unexpected notification- 'Nicole Wyatt has accepted your friend request'. However, when I scroll down all the 'happy birthday' notifications on my wall, her name isn't on there anywhere. I open up a new chat window to Nicole and start to type a message- just to say 'hi'- but I pause before sending it. I can forgive Nicole eventually... But not immediately.

After a quick breakfast, I get dressed, opting for my new dress with thin black tights underneath (and a moderate layer of my new make-up and perfume, of course). Grandma White- my paternal grandmother- arrives shortly afterward to give me a long, tight hug and an armful of presents. As this is the first time in eleven years we've had contact on my birthday, she's gone all out in 'making up for lost time', giving me yet another new dress, ornaments for my room, ballet books and DVDS and four bottles of expensive-looking perfume. My friends are next, carrying armfuls of cards along with gifts of special fashion magazines and vouchers to my favourite clothing stores, and last but not least is Grandma Clarke, whose gift may be the best of the lot.

"I remember you telling me how you felt left out at times," Grandma says, handing me a folded piece of A4 paper. "So I went on the internet and got you this." I unfold the piece of paper and instantly gasp, tears welling in my eyes- there, printed on the paper, is confirmation of a one year subscription to the Angels' secret box in my name.

"Oh my god, thank you so much!" I squeak, launching myself at grandma and giving her the tightest hug I can manage.

"Oh, and I almost forgot this," mum says, producing a medium-sized box from behind the sofa. "From your brother. Come on, open it!" I giggle as I tear open the box to find all manner of feminine goodness inside, from girly magazines to CDs and DVDs of bands like One Direction or Out of Heaven to several multi-coloured lipsticks.

"This has been the best birthday ever," I say with tears in my eyes.

"Until the next one, anyway!" Megan laughs as I- and the people I love most of all- spend the rest of the morning and afternoon together, laughing, eating (including a gooey chocolate cake that I devour without a second thought) and generally having fun. As my friends leave later in the evening, however, I feel a brief pang of regret that I have one fewer friend than I had at this time last week, and that pang intensifies when I arrive at school the following day and am greeted by my five friends. When I arrive at form, accompanied by Harriet and Suriya, I bristle as I see Nicole sat in her usual seat, but my anger toward her instantly fades when I see the trousers on her legs in place of her usual skirt- and the thick pink plaster cast attached to her right foot.

"Come on, we'll sit somewhere else," Harriet whispers.

"No, it's okay," I say, sitting down next to Nicole, who is barely able to look at me. "Hi," I say to the brown-haired girl, who briefly meets my gaze before looking away again.

"Hey," Nicole mumbles. "Did- did you have a good birthday?"

"It was okay," I say.

"Thanks, umm, for re-adding me on Facebook," Nicole says. "I- I'm sorry..."

"Apology accepted," I whisper, trying not to give away the fact that I don't entirely mean what I said. "How- how long have you-"

"Not long," Nicole mumbles. "A couple of weeks... Phil was going to tell you before your birthday, that's why I assumed he had on Thursday."

"Does- does it hurt?" I ask, hurriedly changing the subject. "Your foot, I mean..."

"Hurts like hell," Nicole moans. "Didn't even want to come back to school today but doctors say it'll be okay as long as I don't put any weight on my foot... I'm going to be in a cast until the New Year at the very earliest."

"That sucks," I mumble. "Know when you'll be back at ballet?"

"About a month after that," Nicole says. "If I'm lucky and if my ankle heals quickly enough... Parents are furious at me since they only just splashed out for the pointe shoes."

"I hope- I hope we can be friends again someday," I say.

"I'd like that too," Nicole says as our teacher arrives to begin the form session. I don't speak to Nicole for the rest of the day- obviously she doesn't take part in our gymnastics lesson or go to the dance club, nor do the other girls allow her to sit with us during break- but as I climb into mum's car at the end of the day, I give a little wave to her as she struggles into her mother's car, her ankle obviously causing her tremendous pain.

"You two back on speaking terms then?" Mum asks.

"Barely," I sigh.

"Well, like I said, concentrate on the friends you DO have," mum says. "No point in moping, especially not when we're going to see Dr Williamson!"

"She'll have a field day with the week I've had," I moan, making mum laugh as we drive to our regular appointment.

"Hello Laura, hello Michelle!" Dr Williamson says as we enter her office. "Did you have a good birthday?"

"It was good," I say, sighing as the counsellor instantly sees through my half-truth.

"I saw your update on Facebook," Dr Williamson says softly. "Showing that you're now single... Phil was your first boyfriend, wasn't he?"

"Yeah," I sigh. "And now he's going out with one of my former best friends..."

"I'm not going to insult you by asking how that feels, because the answer to that question is obvious," Dr Williamson says. "What I want to know is how you reacted to the news?"

"Panic, confusion, anxiety, stress," I moan. "Actually took the next day off school sick, I was that messed up..."

"Laura... Laura was nearly sick," mum whispers, making me cringe as I await the inevitable next question.

"Did- did you make yourself sick?" Dr Williamson asks.

"Almost," I whisper. "But I- I didn't, I couldn't... I don't want to go down that road again. And I've spoken to my former friend... We kinda- kinda had a near-fight at ballet on Friday."

"Physical, or just words?" Dr Williamson asks.

"Just words," I say. "I was angry, I confronted her... It was stupid. Then she started showing off, ended up breaking her ankle in the process..."

"How did that make you feel, seeing her hurt?" Dr Williamson asks.

"Guilty," I sigh. "Like it was my fault for starting the argument. I didn't want to hurt her, I just wanted her to explain, to apologise... This morning, she did."

"That's a very mature attitude, Laura," Dr Williamson says. "I'm proud of you. That's certainly more mature than a lot of fourteen year olds I know!"

"Thanks," I say with a smile.

"As such," Dr Williamson says, "I feel it's time I give you a 'late birthday present'." I stare at the doctor with confusion as she hands me a small slip of paper.

"This," the doctor explains with a smile, "is a prescription for a course of oestrogen tablets." My eyes go wide and mum gasps as I stare at the slip- but it is precisely what the doctor says it is.

"It's not a full dose," Dr Williamson says. "You won't get that until you're sixteen. But it will enable your body to start developing fully feminine characteristics, and yes, it will trigger your growth spurt as well. Understand, Laura, that I'm only prescribing this to you now as your mental state has improved dramatically over the last few months- as your maturity regarding your break-up has proved- and I feel withholding it will do more harm than good, but you need to keep proving to me that you’re ready to be taking these pills as I will withhold the prescription if I see you backsliding, do you understand?"

"Yes, yes, thank you so much!" I squeak excitedly.

"You've come a long way, Laura," Dr Williamson says with pride. "You're not the shy little eleven year old I first saw so many months ago. You're a strong, mature young woman and it's only fair that you get the chance to be precisely that, to 'have the body to match' for want of a better way of putting it."

"And you're sure Laura's ready for this?" Mum asks with clear concern in her voice.

"Beyond reasonable doubt," Dr Williamson says. "I will still need you to keep your food diary and a record of your weight, Laura. If you had had a relapse of your bulimia, I would have withheld the prescription without a second thought, and the same goes for any future relapses."

"I won't relapse, I swear," I say.

"I believe you," Dr Williamson says. "At least, I believe that you believe you won't, and for now, that's good enough for me. But it's not something you can get over quickly, as you well know, but with the strength of character that you've shown, I'm sure you'll beat it eventually."

"Thank you," I whisper as we continue our session. My mind, however, is focussed only on the slip of paper I delicately hold in my fingers.

Three days later, after drama rehearsals- in which Suriya is announced as having earned the role of 'Juliet'- I stand in my living room with all my friends- ALL of my friends, including Nicole and her crutches- my mother and both of my grandmothers. I have a glass of water in one hand, and the tablet I've craved for so long in the other. My hands actually start to shake as I pop the tablet on my tongue and swallow it with a mouthful of water, before showing my empty mouth to my delighted friends and family. These pills won't turn me into a girl overnight, but several months from now, by my fifteenth birthday, I've been assured that they should see me finally become the girl I always wanted to be. So what if I'm still single by then, or if I've lost a few friends and gained others- I'll always have people around me who love me for who I am, and who I want to be.

And most importantly, for the first time in a long time, I'm starting to love myself for who I am too.

“Laura…” Mum sighs as I head toward the front door.

“What?” I ask with mock-innocence, before sighing as mum simply stares at me.

“You know what…” Mum says, and I can’t help but roll my eyes as I tug down the hem of my short, straight grey skirt. “ALL the way.”

“Oh- come on,” I moan. “What am I, a nun?”

“No,” mum replies. “You’re a fourteen year old girl.”

“Exactly,” I plead, before rolling my eyes again and tugging my skirt down to its ‘proper’ length, the hem coming to a couple of inches above my knees, which- like the rest of my legs- are covered in thick black tights. “I bet Nicole’s skirt won’t be this long…”

“What Nicole does is her problem,” mum says. “Your skirt can at least cover SOME of your legs.”

“…Yes, mum,” I say, trying not to sigh either of my words.

“And besides,” mum says as the two of us get into her boyfriend’s car, “you’ve got an example to set!” I smile as I sit down next to Lily- mum’s new boyfriend’s daughter- who, as always, greets me with an enthusiastic wave.

“Morning, Laura!” Sean- mum’s boyfriend- says with a warm grin. “First day of your GCSEs today, hope you’re not too anxious?”

“As if I don’t have enough in my life to be anxious about,” I snort. “But yeah, I’ll be fine, they’re all subjects I enjoy and I know I can do, I should be fine.”

“Heh, I remember how anxious you were three years ago, when you started secondary school,” mum laughs. “Things have REALLY changed since then…” Have they ever, I think to myself- and most of the changes have come over the course of the last ten months, ever since Dr Williamson gave me my first dose of oestrogen.

Before I took that first hormone pill, I was, mentally and physically, a little girl, but now, I am very much a young woman. As promised, I had my growth spurt, so I now stand 5’ 6” tall- taller even than my mother. All of my clothes come from the ‘women’s section of shops or catalogues, as opposed to the ‘girl’s section (and, gratifyingly, all my clothes have either an ‘8’ or a ‘10’ on the label). My training bras have been replaced by actual bras to support my (currently) A-cup breasts, and my golden blonde hair now reaches down to the middle of my back. It’s not just in a physical sense that I’ve changed, either- it’s hard to explain, but deep inside, I feel like a completely different person- a better person. Of course, I’m still obsessed with dancing and acting- and, of course, boys- but I feel more grown up, more at ease with who I am, and more importantly, who I want to be.

My friends have all seen similar changes, of course. Megan in particular has changed a lot- she’s changed from a short, chubby pre-teen girl into a curvy 5’ 8” beauty queen. Priya and Nicole both look very grown up when compared to the little girls I met three years ago, and Harriet and Suriya, whilst still looking very youthful, are both gradually growing into mature young women. The biggest change, however, has been to Ashley- and not in a good way.

I’d hoped that when I started year 10, I’d go into school to see Ashley (who’s starting year 9) stood there wearing the same grey tights and pleated skirt I’d worn over the past three years- though circumstances conspired to keep her away from the life she wanted to lead… And I’m partially to blame for that. The details are complicated, but thanks to my loose tongue- and my arsehole ex-boyfriend- Ashley was outed before she was ready, which resulted in her father rejection her coming out and Ashley falling into a deep depression, which she emerged from months later with a deep voice, broad shoulders and all the masculine characteristics I’d been fortunate to avoid. To help keep up the pretense, I agreed to be her- or rather, at the time, his- girlfriend, though even this didn’t last long, leaving poor Ashley in a state of limbo until she can get booked in with a counsellor who can properly diagnose her with gender dysphoria and prevent her from turning into the man she doesn’t want to be.

That’s not to say I haven’t had karma ‘punish’ me for what I did to Ashley- the months when I pretended to be her girlfriend have been only the only time over the past few years when I was in any kind of relationship. Priya, Suriya, Megan and Nicole all have boyfriends (though thankfully, the latter’s boyfriend ISN’T the arsehole who unceremoniously dumped me just before my birthday, hence why we're friends again), whilst Harriet came out as gay earlier in the year, and whilst she’s still single, it doesn’t help my angst- especially as it’s plainly obvious why no boy will go near me, despite the fact that I’m virtually indistinguishable from any other girl- well, while clothed anyway.

Actually, even in my underwear or any other skin-tight clothing I’m just like any other girl, I’ve become so good at ‘tucking’ (and helped by the fact I have very little to ‘tuck’). Over the past year I’ve attended ballet twice a week and gymnastics club twice a week, and nothing’s ‘shown’ through any of my leotards. I’ve danced on stage in dance recitals wearing both utterly gorgeous tutus and more modern costumes, such as skin-tight catsuits, and I’ve even competed in inter-school gymnastics competitions and won medals, and in none of the photos or videos of these events is it even remotely possible to tell that I was ever anything other than 100% female. The only bulges that show through my clothing are on my chest- but even this isn’t good enough for some people. I’ll forever be the transsexual, the ‘ladyboy’- and with just a year and two months until the date on which I can legally have sex, that’s never more apparent.

It wouldn’t be so bad if my ‘unwanted bulge’ was the only part of my body I was unsatisfied with, but over the past ten months, I’ve found myself constantly struggling to keep my weight at the level I want it to be. As I’ve grown taller, I’ve also, obviously, grown outward as well- and whilst I’m still skinny (as those ‘8’s in my clothing prove), every additional inch to my waist brought with it an anxiety I’d hoped I’d put long behind me- and the nearly uncontrollable urge to ‘purge’ my body. Fortunately, Dr Williamson was always on hand to keep my meals down in my stomach, where they belong- though the threat of withdrawing my oestrogen pills was just as effective as any of her other coping strategies.

What also helped was that, in addition to Ashley, I’ve gained another sort-of ‘little sister’. Earlier in the year, mum began seeing a guy called Sean, and whilst at first it only added to my stress- mum having a boyfriend when I don’t- I began to grow fond of Sean, especially when he introduced me to his nine year old daughter Lily, who instantly looked up to me as the big sister she never had. My grandmother was wary of Sean at first, as she’s very aware of the old stereotype concerning ‘evil stepparents’, but Sean’s a really nice guy, accepts me fully for who I am and who I want to be (and is very open about me with Lily too, which is refreshing) and actively encourages Lily to see me as a role model. Ricky, however, still isn’t convinced by Sean, even though he’s only met the guy twice- and even worse, Lily seems legitimately scared of my brother.

Ricky’s still living in Yorkshire with the Army, obviously, though he comes home on leave whenever he can (he came home for his birthday in June, and will also be back for my birthday in November). Neither he nor I have seen our ‘father’ since the last time Ricky went with my photo album, and neither of us want to, either- Sean’s already more of a father to me than Robert ever was. Both my grandmother still live relatively nearby, and I see both of them whenever I can (they both make a point of attending all of my plays and dance recitals). I’ve not met Sean’s mother yet, though he assures me that she’ll be accepting of a transgendered granddaughter- and the prospect of the support of a third grandmother seems almost too good to be true.

In the meantime, though, I have the final two years of school to get through first, which begins, as always, with several wide grins and a group hug when I meet the other six girls (I consider Ashley to be one of the girls, despite her ‘legal’ status) at the school gates.

“Hey girlies!” I squeak as I stealthily hike my skirt back up to the height that got me in trouble with my mother.

“You got told off too?” Megan asks, whose skirt has also been lifted to show off more of her enviable legs.

“Whatever,” I say. “They can’t tell us off while we’re at school, can they?”

“I can tell you off for how jealous you’re making me,” Ashley says with a chuckle, earning her another group hug.

“It’ll only be another few weeks,” I reassure the outwardly-male teenager. “You’ve got the uniform already…”

“Yeah,” Suriya giggles as she does a twirl in her own straight skirt. “Doesn’t seem fair that all six of us get to wear new uniforms today but you don’t…”

“All six?” I ask. “Umm, Priya, aren’t you wearing the same uniform you wore last year?”

“With one important difference!” Suriya giggles as she points to a badge on Priya’s blazer that has the word ‘PREFECT’ printed on it in big, bold letters. “Say hello to the school’s newest Priyafect!”

“You are not calling me ‘Priyafect’!” Priya protests, before sighing loudly. “Fine, then. And as prefect, it’s my job to tell you all to get to your forms!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Suriya giggles as we all head to our respective form groups. As always, in our form group, Harriet, Nicole, Suriya and I all sit together, though as we look around at the other faces in the class, one stands out as being unfamiliar.

“Hey,” Nicole whispers, “I think we’ve got a new girl in class!”

“Oh, how cool!” I giggle, trying not to stare at the strawberry blonde girl who’s sat by herself.

“We should invite her into the group,” Suriya says.

“Yeah,” Harriet concurs. “You can never have too many friends…” Our conversation is cut short when our form tutor begins the session, and as we might have predicted, his attention immediately turns to the new girl in the class.

“Good morning everyone,” Mr. Sheldon says. “I hope you all enjoyed your holidays. I’m sure you’ve noticed that we have a new face in our form group today. Samantha, would you like to introduce yourself?”

“Umm, hi,” the new girl says with obvious and understandable nerves. “I’m Samantha, Samantha Reid, I’m originally from Southend, but my parents just moved here for work… Um, hi everyone, I guess!” The class giggles good-naturedly as Samantha sits down- she’s clearly shy and nervous, which is something I can relate to all too well.

“I trust you’ll all make Samantha very welcome here,” Mr. Sheldon says. “In the meantime, your timetables for this year have been published, so please spend the rest of the time familiarising yourselves with them before heading to your first lesson.” The four of us at our table do just this, before heading to our first lesson of the day, which is Maths. After Maths is Spanish, which Nicole, Suriya and I are all taking- and much to our delight, so is Samantha.

“She’s sitting on her own again,” I whisper as I watch Samantha take her seat.

“Not for long,” Suriya says smugly, before whispering toward the new girl. “Hey! Hey, Samantha!” The new girl’s eyes go wide with surprise as we address her, before nervously approaching our table.

“Umm, hi,” Samantha says cautiously.

“Would you like to sit with us?” I ask, grinning happily as Samantha grabs her bags and parks herself next to Nicole. “I’m Laura, by the way, Laura White.”

“I’m Sam,” Samantha says.

“Nicole Wyatt,” Nicole introduces herself.

“Suriya Malik, but you can call me Suri!” Suriya giggles excitedly.

“Okay… Suri!” Sam giggles. “I’ve got to tell you, I was REALLY nervous about today, starting a new school…”

“Ugh, been there, done that!” I giggle.

“Oh- were you a transfer too?” Sam asks.

“Well…” I say with a sly grin. “Kinda yes, kinda not, hehe!” I try not to giggle at the confusion in Sam’s face- she must surely know, or at the very least, her parents have to know that there’s a transgendered child in the school, and if she hasn’t figured out it’s me, then clearly something’s working!

After the lesson, the four of us head to our usual table for break, though with nine of us- the ‘magnificent seven’, Ashley’s best friend and Megan’s boyfriend George and now Sam- it’s a bit of a squeeze!

“Harriet, Megan, Priyafect, boys,” Suri says (whilst flashing a wink at Ashley when she says ‘boys’), “meet Sam!”

“Hi everyone!” Sam nervously says. “Thanks for making me feel so welcome… So, um, are you two sisters?”

“’Fraid so,” Priya says, earning a playful elbow from Suriya. “You got any brothers or sisters, Sam?”

“Two older brothers,” Sam says. “One’s in the Army, the other one actually started year 11 today.”

“Oh cool,” Priya says with a grin. “He might be in some of my classes then, what’s his name?”

“Ryan,” Sam answers. “He’s big into rugby so he’s hoping to be on the school team.”

“Cool,” Nicole giggles. “You into any sports, Sam?”

“Ehh… Not really,” Sam replies. “Did athletics at school. I’m really more into dancing than sport…” As one, the girls at the table (well, the six of us who are allowed to be girls, anyway) all giggle and stand up, pulling a dramatic pose that shocks our new friend.

“What the f-“ Sam giggles.

“You’re sat at a table full of dancers!” Nicole laughs. “Even the boys.”

“Really?” Sam asks. “So cool… I do Latin, ballet and tap, you?”

“Six ballerinas at this table!” Suriya giggles. “Laura, Nicole and I are starting Latin later this month. And, of course, we’re trying out for the school’s world-famous cheerleading squad on Wednesday…”

“Oh, SO cool,” Sam sighs. “Guess I’m trying out too!” The nine of us spend what little remains of our break talking about dancing and cheerleading, before heading to our third lesson of the day with wide smiles on our faces.

“Sam is SO cool,” I gush as I head to chemistry class with Suriya and Harriet. “You know, Nikki Thomas met her fiancée after she transferred schools at the start of year 10…”

“Umm… I thought you weren’t into girls?” Harriet asks.

“Oh, I’m not,” I say. “I was just thinking for Ashley, you know, turn the ‘magnificent seven’ into the ‘excellent eight’ or something.”

“Huh, okay,” Harriet shrugs. “Well if Ashley doesn’t want her, and she’s into ginger girls, I’ll happily go out with her!” The four of us giggle as we head into our classroom, before making a beeline for our table the second the bell rings to signify the start of our lunchtime. However, when we get there, our ‘guest of honour’ is conspicuous by her absence.

“Where’s Sam?” Suriya asks as she sits down.

“Not seen her,” Megan shrugs.

“Her brother was in my last class,” Priya says. “I think I saw her meet him at the start of lunch.”

“Huh,” I say. “Well, that’s fair enough, I guess…”

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Priya continues as she stands up, “duty calls!”

“Priyafect!” Suriya teases as her sister leaves the table. Moments later, our new friend approaches our table with a tall blond boy- presumably her brother- in tow.

“Hey Sam!” The seven of us still at the table cheer.

“Hey everyone,” Sam says with an unusually smug grin. “So, which one of you is the ladyboy?”

“Wh-what?” Suriya asks, shocked by Sam’s use of the insulting term.

“If you mean ‘which one of us is transgendered’,” I reply, trying to keep a lid on my anger, “then the answer is me. Not that it should matter. Because it DOESN’T.”

“Sure,” Sam snorts. “You keep believing that, LADYBOY!”

“Oh- just piss off!” I snort, turning my back to the blonde girl, who simply laughs at me.

“With pleasure,” Sam sneers. “Look at you all, making out you’re the cool kids, when in fact all you are is a ladyboy, a dyke, an ogre, a spastic and two pakis!”

“Better that than some small-brained Britain First moron!” Suriya yells, Sam’s final comment having clearly cut deep. “And for your information my sister and I were born in England, we’re just as British as you!” Sam merely laughs at Suriya’s defiance, before walking away with her brother.

“Fuck her anyway!” Nicole growls.

“God,” George sighs. “How- how can someone go from being cool to being, you know, THAT over the course of a lesson?”

“It’s easy if she’s got someone whispering in her ear,” Harriet mumbles as memories of the time she addressed our table in the same manner as Sam come flooding back to me- and undoubtedly come flooding back to her as well.

“Her brother, maybe?” Suriya asks. “She didn’t have a problem with the colour of my skin when she sat with us in form…”

“One thing’s for sure, though,” Nicole says. “We should steer well clear of her.”

“And DEFINITELY don’t let on to her about Ashley,” I whisper, giving the 13 year old’s hand a supportive squeeze.

“God,” Megan sighs. “You’d have thought we’d be beyond this by now…”

“Bigotry and prejudice?” Suriya snorts. “’Fraid not. Dad’s told us plenty of horror stories about when he first moved to the UK. As long as there are people who think they’re better than everyone else, then they’ll also think that anyone who isn’t like them is worse than everyone else.”

“Well WE know that they’re not, right?” Nicole asks.

“Right!” I cheer along with everyone else, though deep down I’m disappointed- I’d genuinely hoped that Sam would be a new friend, but as I’ve learned often over these last three years, some people just aren’t able to look past their prejudices. What I’ve also learned, though, is that these people aren’t worth a single second of my time, and sometimes- as proved by the ginger-haired girl sitting opposite me- they can end up becoming one of your best friends anyway.

That doesn’t mean that every unkind word I hear doesn’t cut deep, though. But I have enough positives in my life that I can afford to drown out the negatives.

“Afternoon, growing young woman!” Mum laughs as I climb onto the passenger seat of her car and fasten my seatbelt. “Good first day? Not too stressed out about exams, I hope…”

“It was okay,” I say. “There’s a new girl in our class… She already hates me.”

“Well you-“ mum says, before I cut her off.

“Yes, yes, I know,” I sigh. “I just ignore her, don’t let her get to me… God knows I’ve had enough practice there over the last three years.”

“I was going to say,” mum says, clearly offended by my interruption, “you need to show her exactly what she’s missing by being an enemy instead of a friend. I assume your real friends all stuck up for you, right?”

“Of course,” I say.

“Well then this new girl has seven enemies instead of one,” mum says. “I don’t care how tough she thinks she is, every bully backs down from odds of 7-1.”

“Her older brother’s in year 11,” I say. “She’s got him for backup.”

“What’s he going to do?” Mum snorts. “In my day if any boy laid a finger on any girl he was kicked out faster than you can say ‘wimp’. Doubt it’s any different now. And before you bring up Ashley, he- sorry, SHE will get her gender dysphoria diagnosis soon. That skirt you’re wearing can sometimes be a shield, you know.”

“You’re right,” I say.

“And there you were, thinking that parents are only there to embarrass you,” mum says, making me roll my eyes.

“Well, not ‘only’,” I reply.

“And on that note,” mum says, “by the time we get home, your skirt had better have been lowered to its proper height!” I sigh, but let out a small giggle as I wiggle about in my seat, returning the hem of my skirt to where it was at the start of the school day.

After an evening of homework, TV and chatting on Facebook with my friends- with Sam obviously being the main topic of conversation- I change into my soft cotton nightdress and climb into bed, trying as hard as I can to put my new tormentor out of my head. I fall asleep focussing on the words of my mum- that my real friends will always stand by me- and Harriet’s parting message on Facebook.

‘One day,’ Harriet typed before going offline, ‘she’ll look back on what she said and she’ll be so guilty she’ll literally cry. Take it from someone who knows.’

As usual, when my alarm rings on my phone, I get up, shower, take my hormone tablets and get dressed, pulling on a thong underneath my black tights as it’s ballet tonight. I can help but fidget, though, as we head to school- the last time I was this nervous about going to school was before my first ever day, and back then it was because of the uncertainty of what would be waiting for me. Today, I’m nervous precisely I AM certain of what’s waiting for me…

“Hey, fellow black-legged girlie!” Suriya giggles as she greets me at the front gate, giggling as I (of course) hike my skirt just a tiny bit higher than it was when I was in mum’s car.

“Hey girlies!” I squeak. “No sign of ‘she who must not be named’?”

“Don’t waste ANY energy today thinking about that bitch,” Suriya sneers. “If she wants to be a bigot, that’s her problem.”

“Kinda harsh, don’t you think?” Priya asks as we head toward form. “I mean, people can change…”

“And you don’t know if anyone’s making her say the things she said,” Harriet whispers.

“No one’s making her,” Suriya spits. “Think about it- friendly at break, evil at lunch. Are we meant to believe her dad came into school during the third period and threatened her without anyone noticing? Sam isn’t you, Harriet. She’s doing this because she’s an evil bitch. Simple as.”

“No one’s so bad they can’t be redeemed,” I say, though as I turn the corner, I see a sight that immediately changes my mind.

There, in the middle of the corridor, is Sam- and in the front of her school skirt is a very noticeable bulge. Surrounding her is a bunch of giggling girls who I’d previously considered to be cool- not friends as such, but not enemies either. All of them, however, are clearly having a good laugh at my expense.

“Oh, hi, Laura!” Sam coos in a voice typically reserved for speaking to little children- even though I’m both slightly taller and slightly older than the girl.

“Oh, bye, Sam!” I retort, turning my back on my wannabe nemesis.

“What’s the matter?” Sam asks. “I thought that if I had a huge bulge in my pants, it’d help me get to know you a little better?”

“Yeah, well she may have a penis now,” Harriet retorts before I have the chance to speak, “but at least she won’t be a cunt her whole life!” I bite my lip to keep myself from giggling too loud at the ‘ooh’s Harriet’s insult gets from both our group and Sam’s.

“You can talk, you fucking dyke,” Sam sneers to more ‘ooh’s.

“Yes I can,” Harriet says smugly, “because, as a lesbian, allow me to say I wouldn’t even LOOK at you, even if you were the last girl on Earth!”

“Whatever,” Sam sneers, removing the bulge (a thick pair of socks) from her tights and heading to form- which, sadly, is where I’m also headed, though I get a sense of satisfaction when I arrive at form and see her sat by herself, while I’m sat with Harriet, Nicole and Suriya as usual.

Fortunately, our first two lessons of the day go smoothly- Sam obviously knows better than to try to disrupt a class- but when the bell rings to signal the start of our first break, we’re greeted an unwelcome- but not entirely unexpected- surprise when we head out to our table.

“Oh, hi Laura!” Sam once again says in her babyish voice. “Sorry, this table is GIRLS ONLY!”

“Looks more like the table is bitches only,” I immediately retort, smirking as Sam’s patronising smile immediately turns into a frown. “Come on, girlies!” I keep the smile on my face as I walk away from our hangout of the last few years, though when we reach our new spot, a set of benches far away from Sam and her cronies, a tear starts to trickle from my eye.

“Oh- god, Laura…” Suriya sighs, giving me a tight hug.

“What the fuck is her problem?” I moan. “What did I do to her?”

“Some people will always be scum,” Harriet sneers.

“…I liked that spot,” I sniffle as I try to compose myself.

“We all did,” Megan sighs. “Guess we’ll just have to make this our spot for the new two years!”

“And if we get forced out of here too?” I ask.

“Then I’ll just hair to tear every hair out of her stupid blonde head!” Harriet says defiantly. I force the smile back on my face and try to agree, though I’m far from convinced, and Nicole’s silence- not to mention her obsession with being popular- puts a thought in my head that I really wish I wasn’t thinking.

Our next lesson is PE, so as usual, I get changed alongside Nicole and Suriya in the girls’ toilets that make up my ‘private changing room’- and this gives me the perfect opportunity to raise my concerns.

“Nicole…” I whisper as I pull on my shorts and t-shirt (we haven’t been issued our team leotards yet). “You were kinda quiet at break…”

“I- I’m fine,” Nicole mumbles, though she’s clearly far from fine, and it’s obvious why.

Nicole remains silent all throughout lunch- which is spent at our ‘new spot’- and our final lesson, and by the time I slump down in mum’s car at the end of the day, I’m utterly exhausted.

“Another bad day?” Mum asks, sighing sadly as I nod. “That pathetic girl still pestering you?”

“’Bullying’,” I correct my mother. “The word you’re looking for is ‘bullying’.”

“Then tell someone about it,” mum says. “Tell a teacher, or your head of year. Hell, tell Mr. Malik, he’s on the board of governors at the school.”

“That’ll only make things worse,” I moan. “Today she was walking around with a sock bulging through the front of her skirt…”

“Right,” mum says determinedly. “Well if you aren’t going to tell anyone, I will.”

“No- no please, please don’t…” I weakly moan.

“Laura,” mum sighs. “These things need to be stopped now before they get any worse. It’s a sad fact of life that there are people who get off on making others miserable. I know that better than anyone else.”

“…You were bullied at school?” I ask.

“No,” mum whispers. “I was a bully.” My jaw drops at my mother’s revelation- I have a million questions, but mum keeps talking before I have the chance to ask them.

“There was this one girl at school,” mum explains. “She was shorter than everyone else all the way through school, even into fifth form- what you now call year 11. She wasn’t a midget, she was just small… When she was fifteen, she looked like she was ten, that sort of thing.”

“I know the feeling,” I say, remembering how small I felt before my own hormone-triggered growth spurt.

“So we’d always pick on her,” mum said, her voice filled with shame. “Call her ‘shrimpy’, that sort of thing… One day, she didn’t show up to school.”

“Oh my god,” I whisper. “Did- did she-“

“She was taken into hospital,” mum says. “She didn’t try anything, if that’s what you were asking. It turns out she had some kind of kidney disease that prevented her from developing properly. She was on dialysis for months, had to take her exams in the hospital. First thing I did when I left school for the summer was I went straight to the hospital to see if I could act as a kidney donor.”

“And- and were you?” I ask.

“No,” mum says. “Wasn’t a match. In a way I was kinda relieved- I didn’t want to have the surgery, after all- but I was kinda disappointed. I’d made the girl’s life a living hell, giving her a kidney seemed like the least I could do.”

“I see,” I say. “If you’re trying to make me have any sympathy for-“

“No, never sympathy,” mum says. “Pity, on the other hand… It why I always came down so hard on Ricky when you two were growing up. I’m just glad you’re growing up to be a more understanding, tolerant young woman.”

“Not got much choice but to be tolerant!” I say, making mum giggle as we head home. After dinner, I head up to my bedroom, where I strip off my uniform and pull on the pink tights and black leotard that have been a part of my Tuesday and Friday nights for the past year. After ensuring the leotard is smooth over my body, I inspect the crotch area of the skin-tight garment, and find it just as smooth as it is on any of my friends- or any other girl's body, despite what Sam and her cronies might think.

I have a grin on my face as I arrive at the dance studio to be greeted by my identically-clothed friends (apart from Ashley, of course, who’s wearing her boy’s leggings and t-shirt), though my smile soon fades when my friends try to steer me toward a different part of the reception area from where we normally sit.

“Umm… Have we been kicked out of ANOTHER spot?” I ask as I sit down with my knees pressed tightly together.

“You… You don’t wanna know,” Megan sighs.

“Ugh,” I spit. “No, you know what? I DO want to know. This is the only ‘safe space’ I have left apart from my home. And I am NOT letting anyone take it away from me.” I immediately march over to our old ‘spot’ in the reception area, where, to my dismay, one of the girls from school- a girl in our year called Mia- is stood, with a very noticeable bulge in the crotch of her leotard.

“Oh, hey Laura!” Mia says, before doubling over with laughter.

“You planning on dancing with that in your leo all night?” I ask, grinning with anticipation at the inevitable response.

“Are you planning on dancing with THAT in your leo all night?” Mia asks, pointing at my crotch.

“I don’t see why not,” I retort smugly. “It’s not stopped me from being a hundred times better dancer than you are!”

“What’s going on here?” Miss Fullerton asks as she approaches our group, before sighing as she sees the bulge in Mia’s leotard. “I’m not looking at someone making fun of someone else for being transgendered, am I?”

“Umm… No,” Mia mumbles, hastily covering the bulge.

“Good,” Miss Fullerton says. “Because as I’m sure you know, one of my oldest and best friends is transgendered. As is another one of my best friends. As is Mademoiselle Renou’s partner. And her two other flat mates. And my fiancé’s best man at our upcoming wedding. So if I did discover that someone was being discriminated against for being transgender- or, for that matter, being gay, non-white or a member of any other minority- the person doing the discriminating wouldn’t be dancing in this studio anymore. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Miss Fullerton,” Mia mumbles as she tries to stealthily remove the bulge (a thick, pink legwarmer).

“I also want to hear an apology,” Miss Fullerton says sternly.

“Sorry, Laura,” Mia mumbles.

“Apology accepted,” I mumble back.

“Good girls,” Miss Fullerton says. “Laura, can I have a word with you, please?”

“Umm, okay,” I say nervously as I follow the tall teacher to her office.

“Don’t worry, you’re not in any trouble,” Miss Fullerton says. “I just wanted to give you details for that Latin class you've been asking about. Also, I’ve had a few of the girls sending me referrals today for a new girl who started at your school. She’s practically jumped to the top of the queue already, but none of your group have referred her, so I just wanted to check to see if you knew her.”

“Oh no,” I moan, immediately sensing where the conversation is going. “Is- is her name Sam Reid?”

“Samantha Reid, yeah, why?” Miss Fullerton asks, before sighing. “Let me guess- she was copying Mia at school today?”

“More like Mia was copying her,” I spit.

“Well,” Miss Fullerton says smugly. “That’s one referral that’s getting rejected, isn’t it? I’ll just have to find someone else to take Abbey-Gayle and Ella’s places. And yes, I am holding a space for Ashley whenever he- sorry, whenever SHE wants it!” I giggle as I rejoin the rest of the girls and follow Miss Fullerton into the dance studio, emerging an hour later tired but exhilarated as always.

As I pull on my dance skirt and cardigan to go home, however, my eyes are drawn to the other side of the room, where Mia is exchanging her pointe shoes for a pair of black flats. We’ve never exactly been friends- she’s not in my form or any of my classes- but for her to suddenly act like I’m a freak… There has to be SOME kind of explanation, and I need to know what it is.

“Mia,” I say softly as I stand over the black-haired girl.

“What do you want?” Mia asks, clearly uncomfortable at having to talk to me.

“I want to know why you felt that I deserve to be bullied,” I say bluntly, inwardly smirking as Mia isn’t able to return my gaze. “Do you actually hate me, Mia? Is that it? What have I ever done to you?”

“You want to know?” Mia asks angrily.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” I reply.

“Girls,” Miss Fullerton says sternly. “Stop this. Both of you. Now.” Mia and I take a deep breath before backing away from each other and getting into our respective lifts home. Once I’m in the car, though, I immediately get out my phone and log onto Facebook messenger- Mia’s been a friend of mine on there since year 8, and unsurprisingly, she’s already online.

‘Hi,’ I type.

‘Hi,’ Mia immediately responds.

‘I still want to know what your problem is with me,’ I type, smirking at how blunt the plain text sounds.

‘You really want to know?’ Mia replies.

‘Yes,’ I answer.

‘Everyone- literally everyone- in school hates you,’ Mia types, making me bite my lip to stop myself from crying.

‘Then everyone needs to get over what I keep in my panties,’ I reply.

‘People don’t hate you because you’re a boy, or were a boy, or whatever,’ Mia types. ‘They hate you because you’re such a stuck-up cow. You and your whole group are. You always keep to yourselves, you’re always hogging the best clubs, you’re in the dance squad, the plays, you’ll probably hog the cheer team too.’

‘WTF!?’ I type. ‘You think WE’RE the cool kids? Don’t make me laugh, we’re the outcasts. We always have been, you know that and you know exactly why.’

‘Oh please,’ Mia replies. ‘Outcasts don’t get to go and watch Star Wars with celebrities.’

‘OMG, you’re jealous!’ I type. ‘If you wanted to hang out with us, you only needed to ask. Assuming you can stand to sit with- and I quote- a ladyboy, a dyke, an ogre, a spastic and two pakis.’

‘Yeah that was pretty shitty of Sam to say that,’ Mia types. ‘I think she really does hate you just because you’re transgendered. Actually said she’d beat you up if you ever went into any of the girls’ toilets, even the ones you’re allowed in. Think she uses them deliberately just to see if she can run into you.’

‘So immature,’ I type. ‘And you really want to be her friend?’

‘Better than being yours,’ Mia responds, making me snort derisively.

‘How would you know if you’ve never been our friend?’ I ask, smiling as Mia takes her time before responding.

‘Like you’d ever let anyone else sit with you,’ Mia types.

‘We let Ashley sit with us,’ I retort. ‘George sits with us.’ I take a deep breath before continuing my message. ‘We sit on the benches near the music block. Come sit with us at break if you want.’

‘How do you know I won’t bring Sam and the rest of the girls with me, now that I know where you are?’ Mia asks.

‘Well that’s up to you,’ I type. ‘Whether you’d rather sit with the words I typed earlier or someone who’s got no problem with calling other people those words.’

‘Whatever,’ Mia types, before going offline. I smile as we arrive home, though, when I see that she hasn’t blocked me on Facebook, or even unfriended me.

After changing into my nightdress ahead of going to bed, I grab my tablet computer and open messenger back up to discover a group chat already in progress.

‘OMG can you believe Mia?’ Harriet types.

‘Can’t believe she did that!’ Priya types. ‘If she did that at school she’d get suspended for sure! I’ve already told my head of year about Sam’s P-word comment, wouldn’t be surprised if she’s in isolation for the rest of the week just based on that alone.’

‘Way to make yourself known on your first week at a new school,’ Megan types.

‘I actually talked to Mia on the way home,’ I typed.

‘OMG even after Miss Fullerton told you not to?’ Megan asks.

‘On FB,’ I clarify. ‘Seems like she hates Sam as much as we do… She reckons we’re all stuck up because we sometimes get to hang out with the Angels. Reckon she’s just jealous.’

‘Who wouldn’t be jealous of us?’ Nicole types. ‘I mean, we ARE cool. Cool people don’t go around getting themselves banned from ballet studios.’ I grin as I read Nicole’s reply- that answers any questions I may have had about her ‘loyalty’.

‘LOL Sam will be pissed when she hears that!’ Suriya types.

‘Mia reckons that she is just a bigot,’ I type. ‘I kinda invited Mia to sit with us tomorrow break.’

‘OMG!!!’ Suriya types. ‘Guess we’ll have to find somewhere else, then!’

‘Nice going, Laura!’ Nicole types.

‘Oh come on,’ I type. ‘They can’t be in two places at once…’

‘Uh, yeah, they can,’ Priya types. ‘There’s enough of them.’

‘…Fine,’ I type. ‘But if Mia turns out to be the eighth member of the ‘excellent eight’, I expect an apology!’

‘If that happens, I’ll eat my pointe shoes,’ Suriya types.

‘Oh leave it out,’ Harriet types. ‘Everyone deserves a second chance, don’t they?’

‘Well I guess,’ Suriya types. ‘G2G now, need to do homework before bed.’

‘Same here,’ I type, before saying my goodbyes, closing down the messenger app, finishing my homework and climbing into bed.

The following morning, I arrive at school to be greeted by all my friends as usual, and unsurprisingly, Mia isn’t amongst the group, but even more surprisingly, she isn’t in Sam’s group either- largely as Sam herself is nowhere to be seen.

“Looks like Priya was right about Sam going into isolation,” Suriya says with a smug grin.

“Yeah,” Harriet laughs. “Doubt she’s learned her lesson, though…”

“Well- we’ll see,” I say as I take my seat and the form session begins. “It’s not like she can stay in isolation forever…”

With Sam absent, the first two lessons of the day go super smoothly, and when the bell rings to signify the start of break, I grin when I head outside to see our usual table completely empty. Suriya, Nicole, Megan and Harriet waste no time in parking themselves in the usual spots, but as I go to sit down, I remember the girl I’d promised our friendship to last night. I can’t see our ‘new spot’ from our usual table- which is why we chose that spot- so I excuse myself and wander around the music block, where I let out a little gasp as I see the black-haired girl sat staring into the middle distance.

“Hi…” I say nervously.

“Hi Laura,” Mia says, obviously relieved to see me. “Thought you were going to leave me sat here all break… Wouldn’t have blamed you after last night.”

“That’s not the type of person I am,” I say with a proud grin. “Come on, we’re sat at our usual table.” Mia smiles wearily as she stands up and follows me back to our table, where Suriya dramatically sighs and slumps forward onto the table.

“She lost a bet,” I say to Mia, who laughs nervously before sitting down.

“Do you know any good recipes for pointe shoes?” Megan asks, making everyone- Mia included- giggle.

“If Sam were here she’d say ‘curry’,” Suriya spits as she sits up.

“She probably would,” Mia snorts. “Guess you’ve figured out she’s in isolation for the rest of the week. Only just avoided that myself.”

“At least you’re ashamed of what you did,” Harriet says.

“Yeah, it wasn’t cool,” Mia mumbles. “Everyone- everyone reckons you guys are, you know, cliquey, that you think you’re better than everyone ‘cause you hang out with the Angels, you’re in all the school productions…”

“It’s not that at all,” Nicole says.

“If anything, we keep to ourselves because- and I’m only speaking for myself- I think everyone thinks I’m WORSE than everyone,” Harriet says, earning consoling hugs from Megan and Suriya.

“You’re not worse than ANYONE,” I say.

“Oh really?” Harriet asks. “My parents are divorced, I’m not- and never will be- skinny, I sleep in an attic, I have ginger hair, and- oh yes- I’m gay. Top that.”

“My parents are also divorced,” I retort. “My father’s in prison, I’ve actually been hospitalised thanks to my obsession with being thin. My bedroom’s the size of a broom cupboard, and- oh yes- I used to be a boy.”

“Girls,” Megan sighs. “Let’s call this a draw, okay?”

“I- I always thought, you know…” Mia mumbles. “I always thought I was the only insecure girl in the school. Everyone I hang out with is so confident, but you- you girls are really open with each other. And with me! Like, I’ve only been sat here three minutes…”

“I guess we’ve known each other a long time,” I shrug.

“Nah,” Mia says. “More like everyone else is SO fake…”

“Well you’re welcome to hang out with us whenever you want a dose of ‘reality’,” Harriet giggles. “And trust me, you have nothing to be insecure about. You are HOT!”

“Thanks,” Mia giggles. “I’m kinda… Only straight, though.”

“Meh, no one’s perfect,” Harriet says, prompting a group giggle as the break period comes to an end.

After another quiet, uneventful lesson, I meet up with Nicole and Suriya to collect this year’s team leotards from our gymnastics teacher, before giggling with excitement as we head to the school gymnasium to sign up for another team- a team the three of us have been dying to get on ever since we started secondary school three years ago.

“Oh my god oh my god!” Nicole squeaks. “I can’t believe we’re actually gonna be cheerleaders!”

“I know!” I squeak. “This is like something out of a movie!”

“Hi girls!” Miss Ellison says as we approach the front of the queue. “Laura, Suriya, as you were in dance club last year, you automatically get into the squad, so here are your uniforms!” Suriya and I both squeak with excitement as we’re handed the gorgeous-looking uniforms, which are almost exactly like the uniforms I’ve seen so often in American films and television.

The uniform is made up of three pieces- the ‘base’ is a 3/4 sleeve dark red leotard, on top of which goes a sparkling white tank top with the school’s initials embroidered on the front, and a very floaty white pleated skirt that barely covers the bottom of the wearer. Completing the outfit are red and white (the colours of our school) socks, white and red sneakers, a red and white scrunchie to hold our hair back and, last but not least, red and white pom poms that make an unbelievably loud noise when Suriya and I put them in our bags!

“Oh, I am SO jealous already!” Nicole sighs. “I don’t get why any girl wouldn’t want to be a cheerleader…”

“Well,” Miss Ellison says with a grin, “the squad size is twelve, we never get more than about twenty girls wanting to sign up and I know you’ll do well in the tryouts- which will be tomorrow lunchtime, incidentally.”

“Can- can we come along to the tryouts too?” Suriya asks. “You know, to ‘cheer’ on our friend?”

“Of course!” Miss Ellison says with a smile. “The more, the merrier!” The three of us giggle as we head out of the gymnasium, though as we leave, a face appears in the doorway that makes us gasp.

“What?” Mia asks with a smug grin as she heads toward the signup sheet. “You thought that just because you were trying out, it meant that I wouldn’t be?”

“Oh, this is SO COOL!” Nicole squeaks excitedly. “Four of us on the squad! Eeeee!”

“Assuming we get through the tryouts, anyway!” Mia laughs.

“Are you kidding?” I ask. “You two are SUCH great dancers, you’ll be fine!”

“Us two?” Mia asks.

“Us two who have to try out rather than getting an automatic spot,” Nicole snorts with a good-natured smile, which prompts myself and Suriya to get out our pom-poms and excitedly shake them in the air.

“Oh, that’s so awesome!” Mia coos. “Especially for you, Laura! I LOVED High School Musical when I was growing up… I’m guessing you didn’t get to watch it much?”

“Not nearly as much as I’d have liked,” I sigh. “My brother was in charge of the remote when I was younger so it was always motor sports or shows about cops or soldiers.”

“Ugh,” Mia spits. “Yeah, my brothers were the same. Is your brother in the Army?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Yours too?”

“My eldest, yeah,” Mia says with a smile. “Think he always wanted me to be a tomboy, join him in the Army… He’d probably have a fit if he saw me dressed as a cheerleader, hehe!”

“…I think mine’s only just about got used to the idea!” I giggle.

“My brother knows I’m a girly girl and he’d still have a heart attack!” Suriya giggles.

“Girly girls rule!” I giggle, joining Suriya in a mock-curtsey.

“They- sorry, WE do!” Mia laughs. “It’s just so cool that you used to be a boy, but now, you’re, like, the girliest girl in the school!”

“I’d have to disagree that it was cool that I was EVER a boy,” I say with a warm smile. “But you’re right about the second part!”

“So,” Suriya asks cautiously as we head to our regular table. “If someone was a boy, but wanted to be a girl, you’d think that was cool?”

“Who wouldn’t want to be a girl?” Mia asks.

“Says the girl with a legwarmer stuffed in the crotch of her leotard?” Priya asks, making Mia cringe.

“Ugh,” the pale-skinned girl spits. “I am SO sorry about that… Shows that I needed to pick my friends better, huh? Wish I’d hung out with you guys earlier, you really are cool, all of you.”

“We all make mistakes,” I shrug as I glance over at Ashley. “God knows I’ve made a few in my past… But for the rest of the week, at least, I can pretend that Sam simply does not exist!”

“Yeah!” The table cheers- Suriya literally so as she still has her pom-poms in her hands- before we get down to the task of eating our lunch.

After another quiet, uneventful lesson to end the day, I climb into mum’s car with a smile on my face, which immediately puts a smile onto my mother’s face.

“I take it you had a good day, then?” Mum asks.

“Yep!” I giggle. “Sam’s in isolation, and I may have yet ANOTHER uniform for you to wash every week…”

“Aww,” mum coos. “Is my little girl now a proper cheerleader?”

“I stopped being your ‘little girl’ when I started to be taller than you,” I retort, making my mother snort with laughter. “But yes, Suri and I are on the team automatically ‘cause we were in dance club last year, Nicole and Mia are going to try out tomorrow.”

“…Who’s ‘Mia’?” Mum asks.

“Oh, she was one of the girls who was picking on me,” I explain. “But she apologised so we’re friends now. She’s in my ballet class, pale skin, long, black hair?”

“Oh- yeah, I think I know her,” mum says with a concerned expression. “So… She was bullying you, and less than 24 hours later, you’re friends?”

“Well- not ‘bullying’, really,” I say. “She was just following what Sam was doing. Mia’s cool, really, now that we’ve got to know each other a bit better.”

“24 hours is obviously a long time when you’re fourteen,” mum sighs. “Make sure you talk about her- and especially about Sam- with Dr Williamson, okay?”

“Okay,” I shrug as we arrive at the clinic, inside which is the counsellor who’s been helping me over the last three years.

“Hello Laura, Michelle,” Dr Williamson says as mum and I step into her office. “Big week this week, start of your GCSEs… How’ve you been coping?”

“The actual GCSEs themselves aren’t too much of a problem,” I say. “They’re all subjects I enjoy, and I’m on the cheerleading squad too.”

“Oh, very cool!” Dr Williamson laughs. “Didn’t realise that was a thing in Britain.”

“Maybe not as big as it is in America,” I say. “It’s basically just the same as dance club from years 8 and 9, only with a proper uniform, the skirt, the trainers, the pom-poms…”

“Well, make sure you don’t overwork yourself,” Dr Williamson says. “You do so many extra-curricular activities, and all of them are physical as well. On that note, food diary, please.” I let out a tired sigh as I hand the well-worn notebook over to my counsellor, who flicks through it before nodding with satisfaction.

“Good,” Dr Williamson says. “Your weight’s steady, it could probably do with going up a couple of pounds but I’m satisfied that it’s within healthy bounds.”

“Tell her about Sam and Mia, Laura,” mum says, making me grimace.

“Who are Sam and Mia?” Dr Williamson asks. “New friends?”

“Yes- well, no- well, kinda,” I sigh. “Sam started school this week, transferred from a different school… She started bullying me almost the second she knew I was transgendered.”

“Sadly, that’s just a fact of life,” Dr Williamson says with a soft voice. “You’ll always find people who are unwilling to look past their prejudices, and high school is a hotbed for bullying. Did you say there was a second girl?”

“Yeah, Mia,” I say. “She was picking on me too, but I confronted her, she backed down… She explained that I- that me and my friends, we- we’re not that popular at school…”

“The one worry of the teenaged girl,” Dr Williamson says in a sympathetic voice. “Believe me when I saw that everyone in your position goes through what you’re going through. Even teenagers who aren’t transgendered. You need to keep focussing on the positive aspects in your life. What happened after Mia backed down?”

“Well, we got talking,” I say. “We- we’re kinda friends now.”

“Sounds to me that you’re gonna end this week with one more friend than when you started it,” Dr Williamson says.

“Well- yeah, I guess,” I say. “Just because everyone gets bullied, it doesn’t mean it’s right.”

“No, it most definitely doesn’t,” Dr Williamson concurs. “No one chooses to be bullied, but you can choose how you respond to the bullying. Talking is a good start.”

“But we tried that with Sam,” I moan. “We actually invited her to be part of the group, then she went away after break and came back at lunch and she was just a total- well, you know…”

“Then it shows that she was never willing to be your friend, and you shouldn’t waste any of your time worrying about her or even thinking about her,” Dr Williamson says in a soft, calming voice.

“You’re right,” I whisper with a smile.

“I know the old cliché of ‘ignore a bully and they’ll go away’ isn’t always the best advice,” Dr Williamson says, “but confronting them can often do more harm than good. In the case of your new friend Mia, you were lucky and you were able to reason with them. If what you say about Sam- that she just ‘turned’- is true, then it’s unlikely that the same approach will work with her.”

“So… Just keep my distance and hope for the best?” I ask.

“For now,” Dr Williamson says. “I know two years seems like a long time, but it really will be over before you know it. I will give you this one additional piece of advice, though- virtually all transgendered people go through what you’re going through, and many of them developed coping strategies that they’ll be willing to share with you.” I nod and make a mental note at Dr Williamson’s hint.

Immediately upon returning home, I head upstairs to change out of my uniform and into a comfortable denim skirt and long-sleeved top, but the instant I’ve pulled the stretchy garment over my head, I reach for my tablet computer and log in to Facebook. This is hardly out of the ordinary for me, obviously, but this evening there’s a specific name I’m looking for, which I’m relieved to see is on the ‘online’ list- the name in question being Nikki Thomas.

‘Hi,’ I type, my fingers shaking slightly with nerves. ‘Are you free for a chat?’

‘Hey Laura,’ the reply comes almost instantly. ‘Sure, I can talk, I’m just chilling this evening.’

‘How are you feeling?’ I type, wanting to appear polite rather than immediately unloading my problems onto Nikki.

‘Fine,’ Nikki replies. ‘A lot better than this time last month. Stitches are all gone, swelling’s going down. Back at work next week too!’

‘Heh,’ I type with a smiling emoji. ‘So jealous… Really can’t wait to get my SRS.’

‘It did feel weird at first,’ Nikki types. ‘But every day I wake up with ‘it’ it feels more and more normal, like it was meant to be.’

‘It WAS meant to be!’ I type, earning a smiling emoji from Nikki.

‘Is everything okay, Laura?’ Nikki types. ‘I doubt you messaged me just to talk about my vagina…’

‘Lol,’ I reply, before taking another deep breath. ‘I started back at school this week.’

‘Ah, of course, it’s September,’ Nikki types. ‘When you start working full-time you don’t get the luxury of a six week holiday in summer, lol. You’re in year 10 now, aren’t you?’

‘Yeah,’ I type. ‘There was a new girl in class today.’

‘Aw, I remember there being a new girl in MY class at the start of year 10…’ Nikki types, obviously referring to her fiancée.

‘Yeah,’ I type. ‘Well this doesn’t look like it’s going to be a love story. Pretty much the second she found out that I was transgendered she started having a go at me… Even had a go at my friends too, was racist and everything.’

‘Ugh, bigots,’ Nikki types with a frowning emoji. ‘I’m not going to tell you to ‘just ignore it’ as that’s always been stupid advice. All I will say is that you are a much, much better person than they are.’

‘You’ve not met them,’ I retort.

‘Don’t need to,’ Nikki types. ‘I’ve met more than enough people just like her. People who assume that because you were born with a [d**k], you’re some sort of freak or monster for wanting to wear a skirt.’ I pause before typing my next message, shuddering at the very personal nature of the query.

‘Were you ever bullied?’ I type, before hastily adding to my message. ‘Don’t respond if you don’t want to, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked such a personal question.’

‘It’s okay,’ Nikki types. ‘Us T-girls must stick together, heh.’

‘I guess,’ I type.

‘To answer your question,’ Nikki types, ‘I don’t think there’s a single transgendered person in the world who hasn’t faced some form of bullying from their peers- myself included. I was comparatively lucky- I left school as a boy and then started fashion college as a girl, the only person from my school who went to my college was Sarah so I was able to start with a clean slate, and the girls I met on my first day all accepted me. The ‘friends’ I left behind at the old school, on the other hand, after I announced it on FB…’

‘I can kinda see why you waited until you were done with school before transitioning,’ I type.

‘Every day, I wish I hadn’t waited so long,’ Nikki types. ‘But I know the reaction from the kids at school… Well, you know better than anyone.’

‘Yep,’ I type with a ‘sad’ emoji.

‘I won’t tell you that the next two years will be easy,’ Nikki continues, ‘you can’t simply delete people from real life the way you can on Facebook. But once you reach sixteen, you get your full oestrogen dosage and you leave school, you’ll be able to live your life by your terms only, and you’ll be able to cut out all the tumours from your life like this new girl at your school.’

‘Yeah, I guess,’ I reply.

‘Besides,’ Nikki types, ‘at the end of your school you’ll get to go to your prom, and I mean PROPERLY go. Sarah and I never did.’

‘Kinda need a boyfriend for that first!’ I type.

‘Two years when you’re a dancer, a gymnast and now a cheerleader?’ Nikki types with a winking emoji. ‘Yeah, I saw your status update. You’ll be beating off boys with a stick within SECONDS of putting that uniform on, trust me!’

‘Lol, I wish,’ I type as the smell of dinner begins wafting up the stairs. ‘G2G, dinner’s ready.’

‘Talk soon,’ Nikki types. ‘And Laura- take care of yourself, okay?’

‘Will do,’ I type before logging off Facebook and heading downstairs, where much to my delight, I discover that mum and I aren’t alone for dinner tonight.

“Hi Laura!” Lily says happily as her father watches on with a smile on her face.

“Hi Lily!” I giggle. “Hi Sean!”

“Hi Laura,” my mother’s boyfriend says with a smile. “Good day at school?”

“Better than Monday or Tuesday,” I shrug.

“Laura,” Lily coos, “Michelle says you’re going to be a cheerleader, is that right?”

“Well,” I say with a cheeky grin, “why don’t you ask these?” I laugh as I reach into my school bag and retrieve my pom-poms, shaking them near Lily’s head and making her giggle excitedly. “Would you like a go with them?” I giggle as Lily’s tiny eyes light up and she grabs the pom-poms from me, dancing around the room and waving them in my and her father’s faces.

“Ah, looks like Laura’s not going to be the only cheerleader in the house!” Mum laughs as she serves dinner.

“Give it five years, and you can get pom-poms of your own, Lily!” I giggle as the small girl hands the loud, rustly accessories back to me. “Just a pity I have to give the uniform back when I’m done with it, really. Would be nice to have someone to hand clothes down to. Well, other than Ashley, and she’s already almost as tall as I am.”

“I’ll have any of your clothes that you don’t want!” Lily immediately volunteers, making me giggle again.

“…It would save on the bills,” Sean laughs as he tucks into his meal.

“Laura’s clothes are so cool,” Lily sighs. “If I wore cool clothes, maybe more people at school will think I’m cool.”

“You ARE cool,” I assure the nine year old girl. “What’s important is who you are on the inside, not what clothes you wear.” I bite my lip once the last word passes my lips- my eleven-year old self would probably disagree with what I’m saying, and a quick glance up at mum shows that she knows exactly what I’m thinking- even if she’s in total agreement with me.

“Like Ashley, you mean?” Lily asks. “I mean, he’s a girl on the inside, but wears boy’s clothes, so that makes him really a girl?”

“Exactly,” I say.

“So if you wore boy’s clothes, would you still really be a girl?” Lily asks me, and I bite my lip again as I remember the last time I ever wore boy’s clothes, when I was in the care- or, to use a more appropriate word, custody- of my so-called father.

“Always,” I say with a confident grin. “I’ll always be a girl. No matter what anyone else says. And you’ll always be cool, no matter what anyone else says.”

“I guess,” Lily says. “Some of the kids at school used to tease me a lot. They were making fun of me because my mum and dad weren’t together.”

“But they don’t say that anymore, do they?” Sean asks, giving his daughter a comforting hug. “Because even though we’re not together anymore, your mum and I will always love YOU, and that’s the important thing.”

“I know,” Lily says, the smile returning to her face.

“And I’ll always be a big sister for you, whenever you need one,” I say, making Lily smile even wider.

“And I’ll always be a little sister for you if you need one of those!” Lily laughs.

“That will ALWAYS be appreciated,” I say as I study Lily’s smiling face.

I don’t know how bad she had it at school, of course, but it’d just be pure ego to assume that I’m having it any worse than her. Bullying really does happen to people of all ages and of all genders, for any reason a bully can find. Some people just thrive on being pathetic- and I refuse to let them thrive at my expense. I have a loving family and friends I care about- and I’ve added new members to both those groups in recent months. I don’t need to live in fear- though I know that when I see Sam again, despite my best efforts, I’ll feel just like the terrified four year old she treats me like.

…Though when I arrive at school the following day, my resolve is strengthened when Mr. Sheldon takes me to one side and privately tells me that Sam has been moved to a different form group on a permanent basis, and reiterates what Mrs. Houghton told me when I started at the school three years ago- that discrimination of any kind will not be tolerated under any circumstances.

That's not to say that I don't still feel the stares of my classmates boring holes into my body on a daily basis, of course, but the knowledge that the 'safety net' provided by the school is still there- and in Priya, I have a friend more than willing to use it- makes life so much easier. Nikki's right- I can't erase people from real life the way I can from Facebook, but I can concentrate on the positives I do have, like my new friend Mia- who, with Nicole, will be joining myself and Suriya on the cheerleading squad after a successful pair of auditions!

By the time the bell rings to signify the end of the school day, I've all but put Sam out of my mind. Sure, I know I'll eventually have to face her again, but I know one simple fact- I'll never have to face her alone. I feel sorry for all the transgendered girls across the UK who aren't as lucky as I am to have such amazing friends. I've had it hard, but so, so many have it harder- I just wish there was a way I could help them the way Nikki has helped me this week.

What I can do, though, is be there for my friends when they need me. If it wasn't for their support, I don't know that I'd have made it through a single confrontation with Sam, and as I'm laid on my bed at home after school, I make sure that all of them- even my newest friend- know just how important they are to me.

With the strength they and my family give me, the story of Laura Jade White won't be over for a long, long time!

"Aww..." Suriya coos, playfully leaning her head onto my shoulder. "SO pretty..."

"So GORGEOUS, more like!" Harriet giggles as she adjusts her tight black leotard. "Not that I'm interested, of course- I was talking about the tutu, not Priya!"

"I'll tell her you said that!" Suriya teases, sticking a tongue out at Harriet as the tutu-clad Priya finishes her minute-long solo routine and dips into a graceful ballerina's curtsey, earning a standing ovation from everyone in the dance studio, much like I did when I danced the same routine in the same tutu two and a half weeks ago.

The reason Priya is dancing in the tutu is also the same- well, almost. Two and a half weeks ago marked the fifteenth anniversary of my birth, and as is tradition, Miss Fullerton makes all 'birthday girls' dance a special routine in a special costume. Today is, obviously, Priya's birthday... But today she's turning SIXteen, rather than FIFteen, and there's a part of me that can't help but feel jealous of that fact.

However, today is a day for celebration, and it's not like Priya's birthday is the only reason I've had to celebrate over the past two weeks, as I'm reminded when Priya, I and five of my other friends leave the dance studio to find our eighth friend stood in the cold December air, wearing a smart knee-length dress, a pair of thick black tights and her favourite ballerina flats.

"Hey, MISS Moore!" I say with a giggle as I give Ashley a gentle cuddle. "Sucks so much that you couldn't watch THE dance..."

"Fortunately, you have about a hundred different videos to choose from!" Suriya laughs, teasing her sister as the four of us- Suriya, Priya, Ashley and myself- climb into Ashley's mother's car to be taken to the sisters' house. As I watch Ashley smooth her dress over her lap, I smile happily at the knowledge that she is FINALLY being allowed to live the life she always wanted, with the support of her parents (even if her father is still reluctant to accept Ashley as his daughter). However, Ashley's success didn't come free, as I'm reminded when she fiddles with the bandage above her eye.

A week ago, Ashley walked into school wearing the same blouse, skirt and tights I had worn during my first three years of school. Unlike my first day, however, hers did not go smoothly at all. Whether it's because the kids in her year are all morons or because they're so used to 'boy Ashley', I couldn't say, but the poor girl was almost in tears by the end of her first day... And then on her second day, this Monday just gone, none other than Samantha Reid took it upon herself to bring a high-heeled shoe into school and smash it into Ashley's face, opening up a wound that she tells me will leave a noticeable scar for years to come.

Samantha didn't go unpunished for this, of course- she and her brother (who had beaten up Ashley's best male friend last Friday) have both been permanently excluded from the school, which is especially bad as they only started three months ago. Sam's parents were apparently livid about the situation... Though whether they were angry at the children's behaviour or angry at me and Ashley for 'provoking' them, I don't know. And frankly, I don't want to know. All I do know is that from now on, school should hopefully be a lot quieter and a lot safer for both myself and Ashley.

Sam also received extra 'punishment' from, of all people, Harriet. The second she attacked Ashley, Harriet was on her, pummelling Sam like a wild animal and causing a LOT more damage than Sam caused to Ashley. At one point, it looked like Harriet would expelled from school as well as Sam- though that was eventually reduced to a week-long suspension. However, that also included a week-long grounding from her mother, meaning that only seven of our 'excellent eight' are present when Priya opens her front door and is greeted by a loud cheer from her parents and her brother.

"Welcome home, my special princess!" Mr. Malik says, giving Priya a tight hug as the newly sixteen year old girl surveys the room, which has been decorated with balloons, streamers and a huge banner with the words 'happy birthday', the number '16' and some words in Bengali that I don't recognise.

"Oh my god!" Priya gasps, barely able to contain her emotions. "Thank you so much..."

"It's not every day that your princess turns sixteen!" Mr. Malik chuckles.

"It's not the last day that that'll happen, either!" Suriya says, earning a playful shove from her older sister. "Are our outfits ready for us?"

"Of course," Mr. Malik laughs. "Ready for all seven of you!" Suriya giggles as she and Priya lead us up to the older girl's bedroom, where there are seven folded lengths of fabric on her bed that I instantly recognise.

All seven of us giggle as we strip off our dancewear (or, in Ashley's case, her dress) and we help each other wrap ourselves the beautiful saris. My sari is made of a beautiful, shimmering purple fabric with gold embroidery, and shows off my fledgling curves magnificently once it's wrapped around my body and the end is draped over my left arm.

Priya's sari, of course, is the most beautiful of the lot- the fabric is gold and red and seems to sparkle with every step the sixteen year old takes. Once we're all dressed, Suriya sits her sister down in front of her dresser, wraps a cape around her and enhances her make-up, making her look like a true Bollywood star. Much to my surprise, Priya then removes a brown-coloured stud from her left nostril and replaces it with a bright gold stud.

"When- when did you get THAT done?" Nicole asks.

"Are you even allowed to have a nose piercing at school?" Megan asks.

"You are if it's culturally appropriate," Priya replies. "And nose piercings are common in India, and I'm Indian, so I figured 'why not'? As long as it's not conspicuous the school's okay with it."

"I'm getting mine done next summer!" Suriya giggles as she attaches an elaborate golden head-dress to her sister's hair, before taking a photo of her with her smartphone. "Rajakumari Priya!"

"India is SO cool," Nicole gushes as the rest of us also take pictures of Priya in her elaborate attire.

"It is!" Mia giggles as she dances around in her sari. "I've never worn anything this amazing before..."

"God, I remember the first time I wore a sari like this," I say. "Think it was my second week of year seven, just after I..." I don't finish the sentence, which would have ended with the words 'was assaulted', as I feel Ashley's presence behind me.

"I remember too," Megan said, defusing the tension. "Back when I WASN'T a giant!" My bespectacled best friend giggles as she does a twirl in her sari, showing off all 5' 10" of her slender body.

"Back when I wasn't even taking boy blockers," I say, shooting a sympathetic look at Ashley before playfully cupping my breasts.

"We've all changed a lot," Nicole muses. "But the important thing is that we're all friends, right?"

"Duh, of course!" Suriya giggles. "Now come on, don't want to keep daddy waiting!" The seven of us all giggle as we follow the birthday girl downstairs, where she earns another gentle hug and a kiss on her forehead from her father.

"My beautiful girl," Mr. Malik says, almost crying with pride. "No- from now on, I should say: my beautiful young woman." I feel another twinge of jealousy as a young man- who I recognise as Priya's boyfriend- gives the birthday girl a kiss on her cheek, before Mr. Malik leads him, Priya and Suriya and their brother to the head of the room where the proud father toasts the blushing birthday girl.

I barely pay any attention to what's being said, though, as my thoughts are focussed on Priya and her boyfriend, both of whom are now sixteen, which means that they can buy a lottery ticket, they can ride a moped, they can live away from home... And most importantly of all, they can both legally have sex.

I don't even know why I feel so jealous of Priya. I don't even have a boyfriend at this time, and I'm not the odd one out there as neither do Mia or Nicole. And yet, every time I look at Priya giggling with her boyfriend, I'm reminded that there are certain things denied to me, not just because of my age... But because Priya and I have VERY different things between our legs.

I suppose I shouldn't be so angsty- it's not like there aren't 'other ways' available to me, and once I turn eighteen, I can (and will) book my full sex change operation, which I'm told will make me a 'functional' woman, or so close that you can't tell the difference. And it's not like there aren't boys at school who fancy me, or who think I'm cute... Genetics aside, years of dancing, gymnastics and now cheerleading have given me an EXTREMELY hot body, even if I do say so myself! But if I do get a boyfriend, then legally, I won't be able to 'do' anything with him for another eleven and a half months- and that's assuming that he's the same age as or older than me.

The party guests (apart from the birthday girl and her sister, of course) all leave Priya's house just after 9:30pm, with myself and the rest of my friends allowed to wear our saris back home (they're effectively a 'goody bag' from the party). I smile as I pass a familiar car parked on the driveway outside my house- my mum won't be the only person waiting for me inside.

"Hi everyone!" I say as I walk into the living room and do an elegant twirl, showing off my sari to mum, her boyfriend and- most importantly- Lily, who (like her father) is staying over tonight.

"Beautiful!" Mum giggles as I pose like a fashion model.

"What kind of dress is THAT?" Lily gushes as she rushes over to stroke the delicate fabric.

"It'd called a sari," I say. "It's a special kind of dress from India, where Priya and her sister's family are from. I can show you how to put one on, if you'd like?"

"Maybe tomorrow," Sean laughs as he takes his reluctant daughter's hand. "Think you've stayed up too late already!"

"Aww," Lily pouts as her father leads her up the stairs to get ready for bed (Lily stays in Ricky's old room whenever she and her father stay over).

"Take it you had a good night, then?" Mum asks.

"The BEST," I gush. "You saw the Facebook pics, right?"

"Not yet, but I'll have a look before I go to bed," mum laughs, before brushing a long, stray hair away from my face. "You really are growing up fast, aren't you? Only seems like a minute since you were Lily's age..."

"...Yeah," I laugh. "We're the only people in the room and still you manage to embarrass me!"

"Oh- shut it, you," mum snorts, giving my hair a playful flick. "I don't need another Ricky, you know!"

"Sorry," I giggle. "I should probably get ready for bed, too."

"Just before you do," mum says, getting her phone out of her pocket, "I know your grandmothers will LOVE seeing you dressed like this!" I giggle as I pose for mum's photo, before heading to my room, where I carefully unwrap the sari from around me and place it in my wardrobe, before changing into a soft, long nightdress and climbing into bed.

I smile as I feel the strong pair of hands gently cup my face, before opening my mouth and allowing the stranger's tongue to probe deeply into mine, savouring the taste of his mouth as he probes further, deeper...

I awake with a quiet gasp and take several deep breaths as I lay still, trying to get rid of the tingling feeling that's filling my body.

"God damn it," I whisper as my heart rate slowly returns to normal. "That's all I need now, sexy dreams..." I sigh as I lay my head back down on my pillow to try to get back to sleep, but as hard as I try, I stay awake until the first slivers of sunlight poke between my curtains.

With a heavy sigh, I get out of bed and take a quick shower, before returning to my room and pulling on a bra, a thong and a pair of cute, patterned black tights, followed by a warm red turtleneck and a pleated black miniskirt. After putting on a little make-up (with it being Saturday, it'll get done more thoroughly later on by my friends) I head downstairs, where mum, Sean and Lily are already awake and eating breakfast.

"Call the press!" Sean laughs. "Teenaged girl awake before 9am on a Saturday in December!"

"Hysterical," I sarcastically retort, making Sean laugh even more.

"Do you want a lift to Priya and Suriya's, or is someone coming to pick you up?" Mum asks as she slides me my morning cup of coffee.

"I'm getting a lift with Ashley's mum," I reply.

"It's weird to think that just under a year from now, you'll be the one turning sixteen," mum muses. "I'll always wish that I'd had more time with my little girl when she was a little girl."

"...Yeah," I sigh. "I SHOULD tell you off for embarrassing me AGAIN, but... I do kinda agree with you, you know?"

"Good," mum says. "So hopefully, when you DO turn sixteen, you won't be in any rush to go out and buy a moped, or get your nose pierced..."

"Or any of the other 'things' sixteen year olds are legally allowed to do," Sean says quietly, trying not to provoke a reaction from his very young daughter.

"But the point is," I retort, "I will legally be allowed to do them. All of them, if I want."

"Oh great, I HAVE got another Ricky," mum sighs, snorting with laughter as I mime another sarcastic laugh at her. "Seriously, though, Laura, don't be in too much of a hurry to grow up, okay?"

"Okay," I say, though by the time I'm out of mum's sight and in the back of Ashley's mother's car, I've already hiked my skirt higher and teased my hair to add more volume to it.

"Hi Laura!" Ashley giggles, straightening her own knee-length denim skirt as she gets out to let me in her car.

"Hi, PRINCESS Ashley!" I reply, making the thirteen year old girl giggle happily.

"Rajakumari Ashley," Megan- who's sat on the back seat next to me- corrects.

"Ahh, of course!" I giggle. "So... Did you like your sari, Ashley?"

"I kept it on for the rest of the night," Ashley giggles. "Just a pity my sisters were all in bed when I got home, they'd have loved to have seen it, especially Cassie."

"She'd have loved it, yeah," I laugh.

"She'd probably believe she WAS an Indian princess, despite being white and blonde," Ashley laughs. "God knows I did, last night..."

"Well," I say, "like me, being white and blonde is the only 'princess thing' you DON'T have going for you, RAJKUMARI Ashley!" Megan, Ashley and I all giggle excitedly as the car pulls up outside the sisters' house, and when we enter, Priya, Suriya, Nicole and Mia are already deep in our traditional Saturday makeover session.

"Still no Harriet?" Ashley asks as she sits down, her knees pressed tightly together.

"Still grounded," Suriya sighs. "It was for a week, and that week started on Monday, so that's that."

"Sucks so much," Mia sighs as Priya uses her brand-new eyelash curlers on her. "I mean, if she HADN'T done what she did, Ashley would've..."

"If she was just defending Ashley, then maybe," Priya sighs, before handing Mia a mirror, making the pale-skinned girl grin widely.

"Awesome," Mia giggles, playfully batting her eyelids. "I know what I'm adding to my Christmas list, hehe!"

"Okay, Nicole, you next," Priya says, putting the mirror down and giving me a good view of her nostril, which still has its gold stud firmly in place.

"You're still 'going gold', then?" I ask, making the sixteen year old grin.

"It was a birthday present," Priya shrugs. "Want to get my use out of it."

"You know," Nicole says as Priya and Suriya fix her make-up, "I actually googled 'Indian nose piercings' when I got home. There were some really beautiful looks on there, especially with that chain thing they- sorry, you use."

"Ah, you mean this?" Suriya giggles as she holds out a dainty gold chain, on the end of which is a clip-on nose ring. "I've cleaned it, if you want to try it on? It's a clip-on, so it shouldn't hurt..."

"Ehh... HATE having things in my nose," Nicole grimaces. "Umm... Sorry..."

"S'okay," Suriya says, clipping the ring to her own nostril before weaving the other end of the chain to her hair. "This is just costume jewellery anyway."

"Yeah," Priya says, taking another chain from the small jewellery box on the kitchen table and affixing it in the same way as her sister. I can't help but giggle at the sight of Priya wearing her traditional- albeit fake- chain. Yesterday, in her sari, it wouldn't have looked out of place, but given that she's wearing shorts, tights and a turtleneck, it does look a little odd!

"Though in Hindu tradition," Priya continues, "brides wear them on the wedding night as a symbol of virginity, and when the groom removes it, it means, well, you know."

"Cool," I say as I'm handed another chain, which I happily affix to my face. "So it's a bit like lifting a bride's veil in England?"

"Or the bride wearing white?" Mia asks.

"A little," Suriya shrugs. "Like any English bride is a virgin on her wedding night, heh!"

"Not that we should be thinking about any of these things," Mia playfully giggles. "Well, those of us who AREN'T legally allowed, anyway..."

"Oh- shut up," Priya moans as she applies Nicole's eyeshadow.

"You know," Megan- who has also donned a nose chain- teases, "if you take that off, it'll symbolise that you're not a virgin, won't it?"

"No," Priya spits," it'll symbolise that I've got tired of wearing it, so just leave me alone, okay?"

"O- okay," Megan says, taken aback by Priya's sudden hostility.

"Ugh, I'm sorry, Megan," Priya sighs. "It- it's just, you know, private? Just because I'm the oldest, just because I'm now sixteen, doesn't mean I want to rush into being the first of us to lose their virginity..."

"You- you kinda wouldn't be, anyway..." Nicole mumbles, earning shocked gasps from all of us.

"Seriously!?" Megan squeaks at the mousey-haired girl, whose cheeks have turned bright red.

"It was over summer," Nicole mumbles. "We went on holiday, made friends with this family who had a son, I told him I was sixteen... Yeah."

"What- what was it like?" Suriya whispers, earning a shove from her sister. "What? I'm just curious, that's all..."

"Hurt like HELL," Nicole moans. "I am in NO rush to do it again."

"But do- do you regret, you know, doing it at all?" Mia asks.

"A little," Nicole shrugs. "But it's not like I can undo it, I guess..." The entire room falls quiet as we all silently nod- everyone else is clearly having as much trouble as I am digesting Nicole's story.

"...We should probably have told Ashley to cover her ears, hehe!" Suriya giggles, breaking the awkward silence.

"I'm always going to get teased for being the youngest, aren't I?" Ashley sighs as she takes Nicole's place in the make-up chair.

"It's only fair, you ARE the oldest of your sisters," Suriya giggles. "And better you than me!"

"Says the girl who was wearing thongs when she was thirteen," Priya teases her sister.

"Ahh..." Nicole laughs. "Now we DEFINITELY should've covered Ashley's ears there, don't want her getting in trouble with her parents, do we?"

"We put the idea in her head," Suriya retorts. "We don't want US getting in trouble with her parents!" I laugh along with the rest of the girls as we finish our makeover and settle into our usual weekend routine of gossiping, listening to (and dancing to) music and swapping fashion and make-up ideas, but all throughout the day, my attention is drawn to Nicole and how distant she seems.

It was clearly a big deal for her to reveal what she did to the rest of us, and while she does have a history of not being entirely truthful, it's obvious that she was being sincere when she told us her tale about her holiday, and the second I get home from Priya and Suriya's house, I head up to my bedroom to grab my tablet computer, logging onto Facebook and immediately composing a message to the girl whose revelation stunned the entire group.

'Hi Nicole,' I type.

'Hi Laura,' Nicole replies. 'I know what you're going to ask. Yes, I was telling the truth. Sorry if I made you think that it was Phil.'

'Eww,' I type as I'm reminded of my cheating ex-boyfriend.

'Lol,' Nicole replies. 'I'm not proud of what I did. I am done with boys!' I reply with a smiling emoji, before typing a longer message.

'What about when you turn 16?' I ask.

'Why are you so interested in sex all of a sudden?' Nicole asks, making my chest tighten with anxiety. 'I don't want to be nasty Laura but how would you even have sex with a guy anyway?'

'There are other ways,' I reply.

'Eww,' Nicole replies, making me giggle. 'TMI! Though you're not wrong, though technically if there's no penetration, it doesn't count as sex.'

'So it wouldn't be illegal for 15 year olds?' I reply.

'I dunno,' Nicole types. 'I don't think so. G2G now Laura, see you Monday!'

'See you!' I type with a smiling emoji, before opening up a chat window to another one of my friends.

'Hi Priya,' I type. 'Thanks for today, your house is always so cool!'

'Lol you've never Facebooked me to thank me before!' The Indian girl replies. 'What do you want... ?’

'Lol busted,' I type, earning a 'crying with laughter' emoji from my friend. 'You've said before that there are boys in your year who fancy me, right?'

'There are boys in EVERY year who fancy you,' Priya replies, bringing a smug smile to my face. 'Whyyyyyy?'

'I,' I type, before pausing and deleting the single letter I typed. 'Kinda fed up of being single. Want a nice boy to cuddle up to.'

''Nice boy' lmao,' Priya replies.

'You have a nice boyfriend,' I retort with a sticking-out tongue smiley. 'Not that I want HIM, of course.'

'What about that Kain kid in your form?' Priya asks. 'Suri says he has a real thing for you, he's tall, he does sports, right?'

'His hair's almost as long as mine and his face is covered in acne,' I reply.

'Earth to Laura: most teenaged boys have acne,' Priya replies. 'Mohan says it's something to do with testosterone or something. Most Y11 boys I set you up with will have spots. Even I have a few!'

'Few is okay, lots is bad,' I type. 'If you can't think of anyone that's okay.'

'There's one guy,' Priya types. 'Scott McIntosh, think he's on the school's football team.'

'Good start,' I type with a smiling emoji. 'He on your fb?'

'Yeah,' Priya replies as I browse to her profile and shoot off a friend request to Scott. 'Try to be careful though, make sure you don't come on TOO strong.'

'I'll be fine,' I reply with a smiling emoji. 'You heard any more about Thursday yet?'

'Yes, every second of every day from my sister!!!!' Priya replies with a 'frustrated' emoji. 'Honestly you'd think she was dancing the lead, not a two-minute solo.'

'It IS a big deal,' I reply.

'Comes from the other one of my friends to have a solo part!' Priya replies, making me giggle and reply with a winking emoji.

'Though I guess the two of you do want to be performers when you're older,' Priya types. 'I'm happy just being one of the background dancers.'

'And once the performance is done,' I type, 'Miss Fullerton has promised she'll get Ashley onto pointes and write a dance for all eight of us. Hope she can do that before you leave school in May. Gonna be weird not having you there.'

'I am NOT looking forward to being the only girl in college,' Priya replies. 'Well, not the only girl, but- you know what I mean.'

'Do I ever,' I reply with a smiling emoji that I'm hoping is coming across as sympathetic.

'Well you settled in and found a cool set of friends,' Priya types. 'So did Ashley. I'm sure I'll be okay. And we'll always be the excellent eight, right?'

'Always!' I type, followed by a string of emojis with wide, toothy grins.

'G2G,' Priya types. 'Dad wants a hand downstairs. Now I'm sixteen I actually have to earn my allowance, lol.'

'Ttyl,' I type, before switching off my tablet computer as Priya logs out. After watching Strictly and the X Factor, I head to bed, and am in no rush to wake up the following morning.

Eventually, though, I do drag my tired body out of bed to shower, before tying my hair back into a lazy braid and pulling on a comfortable, warm floral-patterned long-sleeved and long-legged jumpsuit that I got for my birthday three weeks ago. Even though, from the outside, the garment may look like trousers, the cut of the whole thing is so cute and feminine that I've been dying to wear it ever since I got it.

I spend the whole day doing homework, browsing the internet and generally relaxing, not thinking much about yesterday's discussions with Nicole and Priya, but just after finishing dinner, my phone beeps to inform me of a new notification- and when I read it, I nearly drop the phone in shock.

'Scott McIntosh has accepted your friend request,' the notification reads, making my heart start to beat faster. Mere seconds later, my phone beeps again to inform me of a new Facebook message.

'Hey Laura,' the message- which is, of course, from Scott- reads.

'Hey Scott,' I reply as I head up to my bedroom.

"Going somewhere?" Mum asks, making me roll my eyes.

"Just going to chat in private?" I reply, barely pausing my typing.

'Thx for the friend request,' Scott replies.

'Yw,' I reply with a smiling emoji, before waiting for Scott's next message.

'What u up to?' Scott types.

'Nothing much, homework,' I reply with a yawning emoji. 'U?'

'Same lol,' Scott replies. 'You're friends with Priya Malik right?'

'Yeah,' I reply. 'Her sister's in my form and we hang out a lot.'

'Yeah,' Scott types. 'Girls in my year talk about your gang a lot.'

'Good things, I hope?' I type.

'Not really,' Scott replies, making me frown. 'They all reckon you're snobs, which is stupid 'cause they're all snobs too. Think they're jealous.'

'Lol,' I type. 'Jealous of what?'

'Jealous of you being cuter than them when you weren't always a girl,' Scott types, making me giggle excitedly. I reply with a winking emoji, but after a few seconds I follow up with a 'kissing' emoji. Scott pauses before typing his next message, which makes me worry for a second that I'm being a little TOO forward.

'Lol,' Scott types with a smiling emoji. Obviously, a kiss is too much to hope for in return- he is a boy, after all. 'U got a bf?'

'Nope,' I reply with a 'sad' emoji, before carefully typing the next message. 'Think some boys are weird about me being trans. Losers.'

'Yeah,' Scott types, making me smile happily. 'You wanna hang out some time?'

'Sure,' I type with another kissing emoji as it suddenly dawns on me that as of right now, I do indeed have a boyfriend. 'Kinda busy a lot though, got ballet THREE times next week, and my counsellor too...'

'Is the counsellor for your trans thing?' Scott asks, making me bristle slightly- though 'trans thing' is hardly the worst way he could have worded it.

'Yeah,' I type. 'Had a lot to talk about the last few weeks.'

'Ryan fucking Reid, right?' Scott types, making me giggle.

'Everyone else thought he was a dickhead too?' I ask.

'Lol like we'd say it to his face,' Scott types, making me giggle even more. 'He was an arsehole, spent most classes baked off his head.'

'His sister was a cunt too,' I type.

'Lol,' Scott replies. 'Are girls supposed to say that word about other girls?'

'About Sam fucking Reid, yes,' I reply, earning a 'laughing' emoji from Scott.

'Lol,' Scott types. 'She's not as cute as you, either.' I reply with another 'kissing' emoji, which earns another smiling emoji from Scott.

'Thx,' I type.

'G2G mum's shouting,' Scott types. 'See you tomorrow Laura!'

'See you!' I reply with another kissing emoji, giggling happily as Scott logs out before heading back downstairs to a VERY stern stare from mum.

"Who were you talking to?" Mum asks stoically.

"My boyfriend," I reply with a smug grin that only gets wider as mum sighs with frustration.

"You have a boyfriend now?" Mum asks, sighing again as I nod. "Laura... We are going to have to have a talk at some point."

"Mum!" I protest. "This is, like, my first boyfriend since Phil, and he was over a year ago! And no, Ashley DOESN'T count for reasons that should be obvious."

"Just because everyone else has a boyfriend, doesn't mean you should fling yourself at the first boy that comes along," mum cautions, making me roll my eyes.

"No one's 'flinging' anything," I retort. "I think Scott's cute, he thinks I'm cute, what's the problem?"

"The 'problem' is obvious," mum says. "One of your friends just had a significant birthday that you haven't had yet and you're a big ball of teenage angst that wants to compensate for it."

"No I'm not," I retort.

"Laura," mum sighs, "you're being the most stereotypical teenager in the entire world right now. I get it. I've been there. You're fifteen, and you wish you were eighteen. First- enjoy having no responsibilities while it lasts, because it really won't last long. And second... It WILL happen."

"There are people out there who are determined to prevent 'it' from happening," I mumble, making mum sigh sadly.

"Their opinions don't count," mum says softly. "Especially the sperm donor who's currently rotting in prison."

"...Reckon he'd have a heart attack if he saw me now?" I ask, making mum giggle.

"If he didn't accept you for the beautiful young woman that you are, he deserves to," mum says, making me laugh happily.

I have a smile on my face as I head to bed, and it's still there when I get up the following morning and pull on the white blouse, opaque black tights and straight grey skirt that make up my school uniform. Naturally, with mum's disapproving stare burning a hole in the back of my head, I keep my skirt lowered to where it should be, but by the time I've greeted my friends at the school entrance, I've hiked it up to where it REALLY should be- especially as there's a very good chance I'll have a run-in with Scott at some point today!

"Hey girlies!" I squeak excitedly, giving each of my friends a quick hug.

"Someone seems happy today..." Suriya teases. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the hot year 11 boy my sister gave you the details of, would it?"

"...Maybe," I say with a smug grin, earning giggles and 'ooh's from my friends. Before any further questions can be asked, though, we're interrupted by one final figure approaching our group, whom we all greet with tight, happy hugs.

"Hey girlies," Harriet says with a tired laugh. “Guess who’s now officially ungrounded?”

“Yay!” Everyone cheers, myself included (even if I do feel a bit peeved that my good news has been pushed aside).

“Sooo…” Harriet says. “What have I missed? Apart from the most awesome birthday party yet, of course?”

“I wouldn’t call it THE most awesome,” Priya says bashfully.

“Oh, I don’t know…” Suriya giggles as she takes a sari out of her bag and hands it to the very excited Harriet. “RAJKUMARI Priya!”

“I don’t know that my party is more exciting than Laura having a new boyfriend,” Priya says smugly, making me blush even as I grin at the group’s attention turning back to me.

“Oooh,” Harriet squeaks. “Go on…”

“…His name’s Scott McIntosh, he’s in year 11 and he is HOT,” I say with a smug grin.

“He’s in year 11?” Harriet asks cautiously.

“Yes…” I reply. “Meaning we’re both fifteen… It’s not like I’m dating a college guy, hehe!”

“No, but-“ Harriet says, before sighing. “Snogged him yet?” I blush again as the group lets out another loud ‘ooh’ that threatens to get the attention of a nearby teacher.

“No,” I reply. “Not YET!” I have a wide, satisfied grin on my face as Suriya, Nicole, Harriet and I all head to form, where I’m probed about Scott right up until our form tutor arrives.

Throughout the first three lessons and first break period of the day, I’m constantly bombarded with questions about my new relationship, questions I’m barely able to answer myself thanks to how little I’ve spoken with my ‘new boyfriend’. All of that changes at lunch, however, when after just a few minutes of our usual chat, Priya points over my shoulder with a smug smile on her face, and I find myself looking up and straight into the smiling face of Scott McIntosh himself.

“H- hey, Laura,” Scott says nervously.

“Hey,” I reply with a breathless giggle. “Umm… Hi!”

“Hi,” Scott says as I examine his athletic body- despite being only fifteen, he is VERY fit- even under his uniform I can clearly tell that there are plenty of muscles on his 5’ 10” body. “You- you busy?”

“Just eating lunch,” I giggle in response.

“Cool,” Scott laughs, clearly uncomfortable about having eight pairs of female eyes trained on his body. “I, um, I like your hair.”

“Thanks,” I giggle as I toss my long blonde tresses from one side to the other.

“I, um, I’ll, uh, see you later,” Scott says, making me pout with disappointment. “My, um, friends are over there…” The second Scott leaves, my entire face goes reds as all of my friends let out a loud, high-pitched ‘oooh’ at my expense.

“He is H-A-W-T!” Nicole giggles as I subconsciously rub my nylon-covered thighs together.

“Just remember: sisters BEFORE misters!” Harriet says, before the entire table launches into a round of ‘Laura’s got a boyfriend’- a song that I’m only too happy to join in with!

Gossip about my ‘love life’ occupies the rest of lunch and the final lesson of the day, and by the time the school bell rings, I actually breathe a sigh of relief- though my relief is short-lived as when I head toward the main entrance of the school, I find a familiar tall, male figure waiting for me.

“Hey,” Scott says with a nervous giggle as I all but skip over to him.

“Hey,” I giggle in response. “You’ll be happy to hear my friends ‘approve’ of you, hehe!”

“Same here,” Scott says, making me smile warmly.

“Even because of the, ‘you know’?” I ask cautiously.

“You’re still a girl,” Scott shrugs. “You’re way more girl than boy, most of the boys in my year think that actually, it was only Ryan Reid who didn’t. And you’re, you know, cute.”

“I AM cute,” I say smugly. “And most of the girls in MY year think that you’re HOT!” I bite my lip as Scott nervously scratches his head, before slowly, hesitantly leaning in toward me. My heart beats faster as it’s obvious what he has in mind, and I find myself going up onto my tiptoes to meet Scott’s incoming lips.

The kiss only lasts for a few seconds before a ‘hey’ from a nearby teacher separates us, but it’s enough to make my heart race and my knees turn to jelly.

“Um, uh,” Scott says, breathing so fast he’s almost hyperventilating.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I half-say, half-pant, before heading to my mum’s car, where my best friend is already sat on the back seat.

“Hey Laura,” Megan says cautiously.

“Hi Megan!” I squeak excitedly. “Hi mum!”

“I take it that he was your boyfriend, then?” Mum asks with a voice full of disapproval.

“I don’t go around snogging ANYONE,” I retort, making mum snort with frustration. “Scott’s nice, he’s friendly, and he is HOT!”

“And in year 11!” Megan protests, earning an angry glare from me.

“He’s older than you?” Mum asks.

“Only a bit,” I shrug. “If I was three months older I’D be in year 11.”

“Still, though…” Mum says, the concern obvious in her voice as we head back to my home, where Megan and I head straight up to my bedroom to make a start on our homework.

“Admit it,” I say smugly as I sit cross-legged on my bed. “Scott IS hot. Maybe that could be his nickname, ‘Hot Scott’.”

“And maybe yours can be ‘Shallow Laura’,” Megan snorts.

“What- just- what is THAT supposed to mean?” I snarl. “I’m not ‘shallow’!”

“Laura,” Megan sighs. “You just threw yourself down the throat of a boy you’ve spoken to twice. Other people would use words worse than ‘shallow’.”

“It’s the fact that my best friend is using the word ‘shallow’ that hurts!” I protest. “So I fancy tall, hunky guys. Whatever!”

“And there’s the age difference,” Megan says, making me roll my eyes.

“There’s just as big an age difference between you and your boyfriend,” I retort.

“Yes,” Megan concedes, “but I’m the older one! Laura… I’m just looking out for you, you know? Don’t want to see you get hurt. AGAIN. You’ve already been through more than anyone should have to deal with.”

“Exactly,” I say. “So it’s about time I had something good in my life, you know?”

“You don’t know that Scott will be that,” Megan says, making me groan with frustration.

“Here’s what I know,” I say. “For the first time ever, a really, really hot guy has come up to me, said I’m ‘cute’ and kissed me. There’s no weirdness about me being trans, no pointing of fingers from his friends- but there is from my friends! You know… When I was 12, when I’d only just started being Laura… There were days when I wondered whether or not I’d EVER be accepted the way I am right now.”

“…I’ve never been called cute,” Megan mumbles. “I went from being ‘that short, fat girl’ to being ‘that tall, butch girl’.”

“…I wouldn’t say ‘butch’,” I mumble, the wind having been taken out of my sails. “You’ve got long hair, you wear skirts all the time…”

“I’m 5’ 10” and got broad shoulders,” Megan moans. “If you put the two of us together and asked a stranger ‘guess which girl’s transgendered’, 99 times out of 100 they’d go for me.”

“But people know you’re not transgendered,” I say in a voice barely louder than a mumble. “Everyone knows I am, and I’ll always have that hanging over me. So sue me if I’m going to enjoy having a boyfriend who thinks I’m cute. Besides, George thinks you’re hot.”

“George isn’t the star player of the school football team,” Megan says. “Then again, I’m not a cheerleader, I’m not on the school’s rhythmic gymnastics team, I’m not a prima ballerina…”

“Okay, okay, point taken,” I say. “Christ, Megan! I don’t get why you’re so insecure, you actually ARE a girl!”

“And so are you, Laura,” Megan says. “You’re probably more of a girl than I am.”

“Yeah, we both know that’s not true and never will be,” I sigh. “Can- can we just do our homework, please?”

“Fine,” Megan sighs, tossing me my maths exercise book. “I tried…” I frown as I finish off my homework with Megan, both from the offence she caused me and how guilty I feel, because Megan IS right… I’ve tried so hard to be a girl, immersed myself so deeply in femininity that sometimes I forget just how over the top I’ve gone… But when I think of the alternative- the alternative I was very nearly forced to live by my ‘father’- I can’t help but shudder.

I still give Megan a hug as I bid her farewell, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling terrible as I crash down on the sofa, shrinking under my mother’s withering gaze.

“…You and I clearly NEED to have a talk,” mum says, making me groan.

“Mum!” I protest. “I just kissed him, I’m not going to jump into bed with him…”

“Good, and not just because you’re still eleven months underage,” mum says. “I’m not sure I like the thought of you having a boyfriend, Laura.”

“…Seriously?” I retort. “You liked Phil…”

“You and Phil were a sweet, innocent young couple,” mum says. “I still have the photo of that dress you wore on your first date with him. You wouldn’t be seen dead in that dress now.”

“It was a kid’s dress,” I snort.

“Newsflash, Laura: you’re fifteen,” mum retorts. “You are still, technically, a kid.”

“I’m taller than you,” I feebly retort.

“And Megan’s taller than you,” mum says, “So are Ashley and his- sorry, her friend.”

“Your point?” I ask.

“Same point you’re making,” mum replies. “Whatever that is, because right now? I have no idea. My OTHER point is that you’ve basically flung yourself at a tall, clearly post-puberty boy who’s going to be filled with hormones, will take one look at you and have only one thing on his mind.”

“He’s also fifteen,” I shrug. “Not like he can do anything either.”

“That never stopped some teenaged boys I could name,” mum says in a dark voice. “I only want to keep you safe, Laura.”

“More like you want to wrap me in bubble wrap,” I snort.

“No,” mum says, clearly at the limit of her patience. “I want you to be safe AND happy. It is possible to find a middle ground, you know?”

“I know,” I mumble as mum lets out a long sigh.

“When you started transitioning,” mum says softly, “I genuinely did hope that you’d become a beautiful, popular young woman. I guess I also wished that you wouldn’t realise it as much as you do, heh.” I can’t help but smile as mum grins at me, and as much as I hate to admit it, she DOES have a point- again. If Scott does want ‘more’, there’s only so long he’ll be willing to wait… But then again, as Nicole said, if there's no penetration, then it's not technically sex...

The following morning, I arrive at the school gate with a smile on my face despite the concerned look on my so-called best friend’s face as she greets me with her usual hug. Naturally, yesterday’s kiss is the hot topic of conversation, both on the way to form and even after Harriet, Suriya, Nicole and I arrive at form.

“Stop being so coy!” Nicole probes as I blush. “You can at least tell us how good a kisser he is.”

“I could…” I say. “But I’d rather get a bit more ‘evidence’ first, hehe!” Our table- even Harriet, who of course has zero interest in boys- descends into a fit of giggles, a fit that only gets louder as a figure nervously approaches the four of us.

“Oh, hey Kain!” Suriya says as the spotty, straggly-haired boy walks up to us.

“H- hi,” Kain says nervously. “Umm, hi, Laura.”

“Hi, Kain,” I say with a smug grin as the nervous boy looks so scared that I’m afraid he’s about to wet himself. “What’s up?”

“I, um,” Kain says, fidgeting nervously. “I was just wondering if you, you know, fancied, umm, hanging out some time…” I bite my lip as the entire class- not just our table- let’s out a loud ‘ooh’ that makes the teenager’s whole face turn bright red.

“Aww,” I say, desperately not wanting to crush the poor kid’s heart whilst simultaneously loving the attention being paid to me. “Normally I’d love to, but I kinda already have a boyfriend, Kain.”

“Oh, um, okay,” Kain mumbles, slinking back to his desk with a look of utter heartbreak on his face.

“Poor Kain,” Nicole sighs. “You know, if he didn’t have so many spots he’d actually be kinda cute.”

“Meh, I guess,” I shrug. “But why would I want ‘kinda cute’ when I already have ‘smoking hot’?” Our table giggles yet again, before quickly shutting up as our form tutor arrives.

The first two lessons of the day go smoothly- well, when Nicole and Suriya aren’t teasing me about Scott, anyway- and by the time we get to break, it’s almost as if the group has moved on from me and Scott as their preferred gossip topic. As we’re heading to the girls’ toilets for my next lesson, however, who should emerge from the adjacent boy’s toilets but Scott himself, grinning widely as he sees his new girlfriend.

“Hey,” Scott says, his demeanour far more confident than it was when he approached me and my friends yesterday at lunch.

“Hey,” I giggle, leading to an awkward, nervous silence.

“You, um, you free at lunch?” Scott asks. “Or do you, you know, would you prefer to hang around with your friends-“

“It’s drama club at lunch,” I grimace. “Though, umm, if you want to watch-“

“Ehh, I’ll… I’ll think about it,” Scott says, leading to another awkward silence. With a wicked smile on my face, I lean into Scott and- after making sure there are no teachers around- give him a quick kiss, before playfully waving goodbye as I head into the girls’ toilets with my friends.

“Bet he’d be interested in watching you tomorrow lunchtime, when you’re wearing one of these,” Suriya says as she takes her stretchy gymnastics leotard out of her bag.

“Assuming that Laura doesn’t put on a ‘private show’ for him, of course!” Nicole giggles, before biting her own lip in embarrassment. “Umm, not that you should, of course, I-“

“Enough,” I sigh as I strip off my uniform and stretch my long-sleeved leotard over my body. “No ‘private shows’, we’ve only been going out a couple of days… Haven’t even technically gone ‘out’ yet.”

“Why are you being so shy all of a sudden?” Harriet laughs. “One second you’re jumping down his throat, the next you’re all ‘ooh we haven’t even gone out yet’…”

“We’re just, you know, hanging out?” I retort. “…Okay, and kissing. Hopefully kissing a LOT.” My grin widens as my friends all let out a loud ‘ooh’.

“Laura and Scott, sitting in a tree,” my three friends all sing as we head up to the gymnasium. “K-I-S-S-S-S-S-S-I-N-G!”

“The extra ‘S’s are for the extra-long, extra-deep songs!” Suriya explains, earning a playful shove as we warm up ahead of our lesson.

Despite what he said, Scott doesn’t show up during or after drama club, which leaves me disappointed for the final lesson of the day, though my disappointment is lessened slightly at the end of the school day, when I see him once again waiting for me at the exit of the school.

“Hey,” Scott says with a grin as he sees me approach.

“Hey again,” I say with an excited giggle.

“Yeah… Sorry I couldn’t see you at lunch,” Scott grimaces.

“S’okay,” I shrug.

“I kinda get nervous, you know, when I’m in a room with strangers…” Scott mumbles.

“Hey,” I giggle. “I said it was okay… Okay?”

“Okay,” Scott laughs, glancing out into the car park before leaning in to give me a long, deep kiss that puts yesterday’s to shame. By Suriya’s standards, this one has at least five ‘S’s, and makes my heart flutter even more as Scott’s left hand slowly starts to cup my right buttock…

“Hey!” A teacher yells from across the hall, snapping me and my boyfriend out of our trance-like state.

“I’ll, umm, see you tomorrow,” Scott says, his face plastered with a beautiful, lop-sided grin as he heads off toward the bike sheds.

“Yeah,” I giggle, waving after him before getting into my mum’s car, where I am yet again greeted by a disapproving stare.

“Good day, I take it?” Mum asks in a clipped voice.

“I enjoyed it,” I shrug.

“Yes, I could tell,” mum says in a voice that’s almost a growl.

“…So we kissed?” I protest. “Boyfriends and girlfriends do tend to do that, you know? Of ALL ages.”

“It’s not the kissing I object to,” mum snarls. “It’s the fact that he apparently can’t keep his hands off you!”

“So he gave my bum a squeeze,” I shrug. “I’m wearing a leotard, a pair of tights and a skirt, it’s a wonder he could feel anything through all that.”

“It’s still not right,” mum sighs. “Especially not at your age.”

“If you got to know Scott, I reckon you’d like him,” I say, frowning as a smug grin creeps across mum’s face.

“…Challenge accepted,” mum says. “Bring him round tomorrow, then I’ll see whether or not he’s what you say he is.” I cringe internally at the thought of Scott meeting with mum, especially as Sean and Lily will also be staying over tomorrow, but if it gets mum off my back…

“Deal,” I say stoically.

Mum and I both remain silent for the rest of the ride home and throughout a quick dinner, after which I head upstairs to exchange my school uniform for a comfortable (and, more importantly, skin-tight) pair of pink tights and a black spaghetti-strapped leotard, before tying my hair into a strict bun, grabbing my dance bag and heading downstairs to where Mia’s mother is ready and waiting to transport me to the Krystie Fullerton school of dance.

“Hey, man-eater!” Mia teases as I slide onto the backseat next to her and Harriet.

“Thanks, I needed that!” I sarcastically reply. “Already had my mum all over my back about the whole Scott ‘thing’…”

“You ARE going pretty fast with him,” Mia laughs. “Next thing you’ll be taking him home to meet your mum…” The black-haired girl sighs as I remain silent, my cheeks starting to flush.

“Never knew you were psychic, Mia,” Harriet giggles as she straightens her own pink dance tights.

“It goes with the black hair and the pale skin,” Mia giggles as my cheeks get redder. It’s a relief when we arrive at the dance studio a short while later, though the smug grins on Nicole and Suriya’s faces just cause my cheeks to flush again.

“Wonder how SCOTT would react if he saw his girlfriend dressed in skin-tight dancewear…” Suriya teases, giggling as I playfully shove her out of the way to get to a seat.

“The same way your boyfriend would react,” I retort.

“I dunno,” Suriya giggles. “My boyfriend probably wouldn’t grab a huge handful of my bum!”

“Don’t see why not,” Nicole shrugs. “It is a very, very nice bum.” I’m forced to giggle as Suriya playfully wiggles her leotard-clad backside, before tying her soft ballet slippers to her feet.

“We ALL have very nice bums,” Harriet giggles as she approaches us, also wiggling her backside. Within seconds, all seven of us- including Megan and Priya, who had previously remained silent whilst we were gossiping about Scott- are wiggling our backsides as we get ourselves ready for our class.

“New on BBC1 this December: Strictly Bum Dancing!” Priya giggles, before our ‘wiggling’ is stopped by a stern glare from Mademoiselle Renou.

“I do not remember THAT being one of the steps in Le Soixante-Troisieme Papillon,” The French dance teacher says sternly, making us all grimace as we’re ushered into the studio to begin our stretches.

After an hour and a half of rehearsing our roles for the upcoming performance- which leaves my feet in agony as most of my steps were en pointe- the seven of us return to the changing room, where I breathe a long, loud sigh of relief.

“Don’t see why you’re so nervous,” Priya says as she unties her bun and lets her long, black hair fall free. “You looked AWESOME out there.”

“Yeah,” Harriet says. “You were FLAWLESS!”

“Gorgeous, girly ballerina!” Nicole giggles, giving me a gentle hug.

“…I don’t think THAT’s why Laura’s nervous,” Mia says with a smug grin.

“I’m not ‘nervous’,” I protest.

“It’s okay if you are,” Priya says. “I was the first time I took my boyfriend home to meet my parents. Then again, we WERE going out longer than a few days…”

“You’re the one who set me up with Scott,” I snort.

“I expected you to get chatting with him before going straight to bum groping,” Priya says, making me groan with frustration.

“I’ve been single for over a year,” I retort. “Need to make up for lost time.”

“You’re still only fifteen,” Priya says. “You have nothing to make up time for.”

“Easy to say when you can lose your virginity whenever you want,” I snort, before my jaw drops as Priya gets a VERY guilty look on my face. “P- Priya?”

“Oh my god,” Suriya gasps as her sister slumps down onto a chair. “Pri?”

“…Sunday night,” Priya mumbles. “When I went over to Christian's.”

“I thought you were having dinner with him and his parents?” Suriya asks.

“We were,” Priya sighs. “But then his parents went out for a walk… Think they knew what was going to happen. God knows we both did.”

“And- and was it-“ Nicole hesitantly asks.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Priya mumbles, before pulling her short denim shorts back on and leaving with her sister, which leaves the rest of us sat in a state of shock.

“…Okay then,” I say, pulling on a pink dance cardigan to cover up before heading out to Mia’s mother’s car for my lift home.

The second I get home, I head up to my bedroom, where I switch on my tablet computer and log into Facebook. Unsurprisingly, neither Priya nor her sister are online, but the other ‘deflowered’ member of our group is, so I waste no time in shooting off a message.

‘Hey Nicole,’ I type.

‘OMG can you believe Priya!?’ The mousey-haired girl replies, making me roll her eyes at her hypocrisy.

‘We had a hard time believing you,’ I reply, before feeling guilty as Nicole replies with a ‘frowning’ smiley.

‘Be honest, though,’ Nicole types. ‘You’d never have thought Priya, though…’

‘Lol, you’d have thought I would before Priya,’ I type, deliberately trying to elicit a reaction from my friend.

‘I dunno,’ Nicole types. ‘Guess it depends on what you call ‘sex’.’

‘If there’s no penetration, it doesn’t count, right?’ I ask.

‘Right,’ Nicole replies. ‘There’s nothing wrong with just messing around with a boy, having a little fun, as long you don’t, you know.’ I reply with a smiling emoji that nicely matches the actual smile I have on my face.

‘And ‘hand on bum’ is ‘fun’, right?’ I ask.

‘You tell me,’ Nicole replies with a winking emoji. ‘G2G, my little brother’s having another tantrum, mum needs my help with him.’

‘CU tomorrow,’ I type as Nicole logs out of Facebook. I prepare to logout myself, but before I can do, I notice a name on the ‘online’ list that brings a smile to my face, and before I can have second thoughts, I fire off another message.

‘Hey you,’ I type.

‘Hey me,’ Scott almost immediately responds, making me giggle excitedly. ‘How was ballet?’

‘Tiring, lol,’ I type, my heart fluttering at the fact that Scott remembered that I did ballet on Tuesday nights. ‘Got our big show on Thursday night. REALLY nervous, lol!’

‘Lol,’ Scott replies. ‘Can I come watch?’

‘Sold out ages ago,’ I reply with a frowning emoji. ‘And you want to come and watch a load of girls dancing?’ Scott responds to my winking emoji with a ‘sticking out tongue’ emoji of his own.

‘Want to see how much cuter you’d look in a tutu,’ Scott replies, earning another winking emoji.

‘Cuter than this?’ I ask, before taking a photo in my full-length mirror of me in my leotard.

‘Cuuuuuuuuuuute!’ Scott types, which earns a ‘blushing’ emoji from me.

‘Lol,’ I reply. ‘Come to ballet and you’ll see thirty other cute girls dressed like this!’

‘Pass,’ Scott replies with a ‘sticking out tongue’ emoji. ‘Seeing you in private will do me.’ I reply with a winking emoji, even as Scott’s mention of ‘seeing me in private’ causes a wave of nerves to wash over me. But like me, he’s only fifteen, he couldn’t have already, could he? And worse, I still have a question I need to ask Scott, and better sooner rather than later…

‘Wanna come over tomorrow?’ I type, before immediately composing a follow-up message. ‘Mum kinda wants to meet you, I’m the youngest to she’s REALLY overprotective lol.’ Though her being overprotective IS understandable when I have been taken away from her in the past, I think to myself as my nerves are replaced by guilt.

‘Sure,’ Scott types, making me giggle nervously. ‘Straight after school?’

‘Got my counsellor straight after school,’ I reply with a frowning smiley. ‘5:30pm good for you?’

‘Suits me,’ Scott types with a smiling emoji. ‘See you tomorrow!’

‘See you!’ I reply with several kissing emojis, before logging out with a wide, satisfied grin on my face.

After a quick snack (ballet is VERY draining), I finish off my homework for tomorrow before climbing into bed, my mind filled with thoughts of all the ‘fun’ I could potentially have with Scott- and worry that all my friends are losing their virginity, whilst there’s a very good chance I’m going to be left behind, unwanted and unloved, all because I’m not like the other girls. But Scott… Scott thinks I’m cute despite my being ‘different’. I don’t know if I’ll ever meet another boy again who’s as open-minded- and, just as importantly, as hot- as he is.

I wake up the following morning with butterflies in my stomach about tonight’s confrontation- with ‘confrontation’ inevitably being the most appropriate word for it- though I still manage to keep a smile on my face as I pull on my school uniform, my smile widening as I’m greeted by my seven friends at the school gate.

“Hey girlies!” I squeak excitedly, giving my friends a quick hug each before heading to form. “Hey Priya… Are- are you feeling better today?”

“A little,” the sixteen year old says with a happy sigh. “You know, I’m actually glad I got it off my chest, the last few days… It was more stressful NOT telling you guys.”

“…Not telling us what?” Ashley asks, making the rest of us- especially Priya- blush and try vainly to suppress fits of giggles. “Come on…”

“Sorry, Ashley,” Suriya giggles, giving the young girl a quick hug. “We’re not deliberately keeping you in the dark… It’s just, you know…”

“When you get some black tights on your legs, THEN we’ll tell you!” Mia laughs, making Ashley roll her eyes as she heads to her form.

“Ahh…” I sigh sadly as I watch the thirteen year old girl walk away. “Hate, you know, excluding her like that…”

“Meh, she’s only a year younger than us,” Nicole shrugs. “This time next year…”

“This time next year she’ll have her 11 year old sister with her, and so will you!” Mia reminds Nicole with a loud giggle. “And besides, it’s not like we exclude Ashley from other girl talks… She actually asked me about periods the other day, you know?”

“Umm… Why?” I ask. “It’s not like she’ll ever, you know, ‘bleed’… Kinda like me…”

“No,” Mia concedes, “but as I just said, she has a younger sister. Hell, she has THREE younger sisters, all of which will ‘bleed’ eventually and will need a big sister to help them the first time it happens. God knows I wish I had a big sister…”

“You’ll have to be there for your stepsister when it happens to her, Laura,” Harriet says, momentarily startling me.

“…Give me a break, she’s only nine!” I protest as Mia, Megan and Priya head to their respective forms. “There’s no guarantee mum and Sean will still be together when Lily, umm, you know…”

“Nah,” Nicole giggles. “You’ll always be her big sister!”

“And if nothing else,” Suriya teases as we enter our form room, “she’ll have the PERFECT teacher to help her find a hot, hunky guy!” I rolls my eyes and giggle as I sit down at my usual desk, though my smile does fade when I see Kain skulk into his normal chair, trying his hardest to avoid making eye contact with me.

The first three lessons of the day go quickly- I don’t even see Scott at break- and by the time lunchtime rolls around, I’m almost feeling relaxed about tonight’s ‘confrontation’. As Suriya, Nicole and I head toward the toilets to get changed for gymnastics club, however, I sigh and roll my eyes as for the second day in a row, the three of us run into my boyfriend coming out of the boys’ toilets.

“We need to stop meeting like this,” I giggle as Scott laugh nervously.

“Yeah…” Scott laughs. “I, um, just had PE… Football.”

“Just going to gymnastics club,” I laugh, gesturing to my school bag and the spangled leotard within it.

“Get a room!” Suriya teases, making myself and my boyfriend grimace.

“I’ll, um, I’ll let you get to club,” Scott says, letting me and my friends past.

“…’Get a room’!?” I hiss at Suriya as we arrive in our ‘private changing room’ and start changing into our leotards.

“Sorry, sorry,” Suriya grimaces. “But you two are so shy around each other, it’s just so cute!”

“You ARE cute,” Nicole says. “BOTH of you.”

“You know,” Suriya muses as she ties her long black hair back with a spangled scrunchie, “when you got with Scott, the rest of us in the group weren’t all convinced it was THAT good an idea.”

“Even though it was your sister who set us up?” I retort.

“You messaged her practically demanding a year 11 boy, what was she gonna do?” Suriya retorts as I snort with derision.

“Hardly ‘demanded’,” I say. “I just- gah, I dunno. You know how the boys in school are around me. When I asked Priya to set me up with a boy she knew that the most important thing was ‘must not be weird about me’.” I smile as Nicole and Suriya both nod with guilty expressions on their faces.

“All teenage boys are weird,” Suriya eventually says.

“True,” I say as I make sure my leotard is smooth, before following my friends up to the gymnasium. “But I’d rather that Scott was obsessed with football than obsessed with- well, you know.” Suriya and Nicole both nod silently as we begin our warm-ups.

Both girls are considered among the most attractive girls in our year (Ashley’s said on occasion that his male friends think that Suriya is THE most attractive) so neither of them would have trouble getting a boyfriend, even a year 11 boyfriend. I, on the other hand… Three years of boy blockers and twelve months of oestrogen has gone a long way toward hiding what some narrow-minded people would call ‘the truth’. And sure, I can go everywhere in short skirts, and spend an inordinate amount of time wearing skin-tight leotards underneath which everything is ‘tucked’ so as not to show through, and sure, I might have long blonde hair, long, slender legs, a narrow waist (though it could stand to be a little narrower) and even small (but growing) boobs. But everywhere I go, especially in school, I have this black cloud over my head that says ‘transgendered’, ‘used to be a boy’, ‘has a penis’. That sort of thing is impossible for some people to ignore, especially boys… But as I gently suckle on Scott’s lips for the third day in a row before getting in mum’s car, I’m glad there are SOME boys in the school who are better than knuckle-draggers like Ryan Reid.

“Your boyfriend looks nice, Laura,” Lily says as I slide onto the back seat of the car next to her.

“He is,” I say with a smug grin. “He’ll actually be coming over to have dinner with us later, so you’ll get to meet him!”

“Yay!” Lily cheers, making me giggle even as mum frowns.

“Don’t forget you’ve got your counsellor first,” mum says in a very cautionary tone of voice. “Lily, do you have homework to do whilst Laura’s speaking to Dr Williamson?”

“A bit,” Lily shrugs. “I can read my silent reading book.”

“Good girl,” mum says proudly. “Can’t remember the last time Laura even TOUCHED a book…”

“Mum!” I protest. “We’re reading Great Expectations for English Lit.”

“Yes,” mum retorts, “and you wouldn’t even have pretended that that book even existed if you weren’t forced to read it by the school.” Mum chuckles as I snort with frustration, and before long, our car pulls up outside the office that has been a sanctuary to me for the past three years.

“Hi Dr Williamson,” I say as I enter the room, lowering my school skirt to its ‘proper’ length (I always do that when I’m meeting Dr Williamson, for some reason) before sitting down and crossing one black-coloured leg over the other.

“Make sure you tell her about Scott,” mum says, making me roll my eyes before she leaves me alone with my counsellor. “And Priya’s birthday!”

“Yes, mum,” I sigh, before smiling as mum closes the door behind her.

“…Sounds like we have a lot to discuss this week!” Dr Williamson says with a sympathetic smile. “Do you have your food and mood journals?”

“Yep,” I say, handing the two small notebooks over to the middle-aged woman.

“I note you’re still falling out with your mother,” Dr Williamson says as she examines my journal entries.

“We’re not ‘falling out’,” I retort, trying hard to keep my voice respectful and polite. “It’s just- I dunno. She’s just so frustrating at times. She doesn’t want to face the fact that I AM growing up, whether she likes it or not.”

“’Growing’, yes, ‘grown’… Not quite,” Dr Williamson says. “There’s still a lot you have to learn, Laura. Your mum’s the best person to help teach you this.”

“I know,” I sigh. “I just- sometimes I wish I had an older sister, you know? I mean, there’s my brother, but he’s a meathead, a macho man, and he’s away with the army most of the time anyway. And now I’VE got to be the big sister…”

“Do you resent that?” Dr Williamson asks. “Part of growing up involves having responsibilities as well as privileges.”

“…No,” I say. “I love Lily, she’s really cool, and she accepted me for who I am without any problems. If I have to have a little sister, I’m glad it’s her.”

“I’m glad,” Dr Williamson says with a proud smile. “Things seem to be stabilising for you, Laura, and I’m seeing good progress in both of your journals as well. So… Who is ‘Scott’?”

“…My boyfriend,” I sigh. “Well, I SAY boyfriend, we only started seeing each other on Sunday, and even then, we only really talk on Facebook. We’ve kissed a lot, though.”

“How old is this boy?” Dr Williamson asks.

“Fifteen, same as me,” I reply.

“In your year at school?” My counsellor probes further.

“…The year above,” I mumble. “But like I said, he’s fifteen.”

“But he’ll be sixteen a lot sooner than you will?” Dr Williamson asks, smiling sympathetically as I nod. “Your mum mentioned that one of your friends had a birthday recently, was that also a sixteenth birthday?”

“Yes,” I sigh. “And yes, that got me thinking about ‘you know what’. Just found out a couple of days ago that two of my friends have already lost their virginity…”

“And that makes you feel anxious?” Dr Williamson asks, smiling again as I nod. “I don’t think there’s a single fifteen year old anywhere in the country who doesn’t feel that way at some point. Obviously I can quote the law at you, but I’m not going to patronise you by pretending that underage sex doesn’t happen. What I will say is that the law is there because virtually everybody under the age of sixteen simply isn’t capable of handling the emotional impact of sex. Many people over sixteen aren’t, either.”

“…It’s not like I’d get pregnant,” I mumble.

“Nor would a same-sex couple,” Dr Williamson says. “But the law says sixteen for them as well, and for the same reason. Laura… I know you. I’ve known you for three years, through the good times and the bad, and I can give you this advice with confidence- DO NOT engage in any sexual activity with your boyfriend. You may have been on oestrogen for over a year but your body is still adjusting to it. You still have a lot of maturing to do, both emotionally and physically, and if it were up to me, I’d prefer you not to have a boyfriend at all… But I recognise that it IS your choice. I take it Scott knows that you’re transgendered?”

“Yeah,” I say, trying not to take offence at Dr William’s ‘advice’. “He’s cool with it. A lot of the kids in my year and above are, actually.”

“That’s good,” Dr Williamson says. “Though your physical appearance likely has a lot to do with that. Teenage boys see an attractive young woman and typically only have one thing on their mind.”

“I know,” I say. “I’ll be good, I promise.” And besides, I think to myself, if there's no penetration, it's not really sex.

The rest of the session is spent discussing the usual topics of school, family, and I get a few tips about combatting stage fright ahead of my performance tomorrow. I leave the office feeling happy and confident as always, but by the time we arrive back home, I get a sudden shock when I realise that the clock reads 4:50pm- giving me virtually no time at all to prepare for Scott’s arrival.

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god,” I say, flapping my hands in a panic as I hurry upstairs to my bedroom.

“Oh for the love of god,” mum sighs. “Get a grip! You’ve got forty minutes, for crying out loud…”

“I know, I know, that’s the problem!” I breathe, ignoring Lily’s giggles before pulling open all the drawers on my dresser and sorting out my make-up.

Naturally, my make-up is thick, but still subtle- I opt for thick mascara, moderate eyeliner and a delicate metallic pink eyeshadow, followed by one of my favourite red lipsticks. Obviously, I’m not going to wear my school uniform for the meal, but I don’t want to be too ‘formal’- and yet, at the same time, I can’t simply show up in jeans and a sweatshirt, especially not when I’m wearing this much make-up…

I grin as I spot one of my favourite skirts in my wardrobe- it’s a knee-length, very slender black pencil skirt with a thin mesh hem. It’s very fashionable and very grown-up, and when coupled with a pair of light translucent tights, looks perfect on my lower body. On top, I opt for a clingy (but not skin-tight) long-sleeved khaki top that’s made out of a thick enough material to be both warm and not too ‘sexy’. As I’m at school tomorrow, I don’t paint my fingernails, but as I don’t have PE and/or gym club again this week, I apply a coat of bright red nail polish to my toenails before pulling on my tights.

“I’m ready,” I say as I coolly stride down the stairs, earning an excited look from Lily and concerned looks from Sean and my mum.

“You look… Very grown-up,” mum says, trying (and failing) to hide her disapproval.

“Thanks!” I giggle as I do a twirl, much to my mother’s chagrin. “You know, the modelling agency Miss Fullerton works for is always looking for-“

“No,” mum says firmly, making me sigh with frustration. “You need parental consent for that, and I’m not giving that until you’re sixteen at the very earliest!”

“It’s not like I’d be modelling underwear,” I pout. “Most models my age start out by modelling kid’s clothes, school uniform. It’d be no different than when they take my school photo.”

“Still no,” mum says, making me frown.

“…Can I be a model?” Lily asks, earning me a VERY angry stare from my mother than makes me wince. Fortunately, before either my mother of Lily’s father can answer, a knock comes from the front door that makes my heart skip a beat.

“…Go and answer it, then,” mum says with a tired, resigned smile. I giggle as I almost bounce over to the front door, grinning like a fool as I open it and stare into the face of my boyfriend.

“H-hi,” Scott says nervously.

“Hi,” I say giddily. “You- you look cool…” And Scott does- in his smart sweater and black jeans, he could easily pass for older, maybe even eighteen.

“Thanks,” Scott chuckles. “I, um, I biked over here…”

“Don’t leave him out in the cold for god’s sake!” Sean yells from the living room, making me cringe.

“Come in,” I whisper, giggling as Scott grips my hand before following me into the living room, where mum fixes Scott with a very firm stare.

“Everyone, this is Scott,” I say with a smug grin. “Scott, this is my mum, this is Sean, my sort-of stepfather, and this is Lily, my stepsister.”

“Hi everyone,” Scott says nervously before sitting down next to me, our hands still linked together.

“Hello,” Scott says in a small, quiet voice. “Umm… Dinner smells good.”

“It’s pork,” mum says stoically. “You’re not Jewish or Muslim, are you?”

“Umm, nope, Church of England,” Scott laughs.

“You go often?” Sean asks as every passing question makes me shrink more and more into my sofa.

“Uhh… Not really,” Scott says, cringing almost as much as I am as Sean fixes him with an angry stare. He’s never been THAT big into religion…

“…Relax!” Sean says, making both myself and my boyfriend breathe a sigh of relief. “You’ve come in here and haven’t sworn at us or thrown your weight around, so you’ve passed the first test, right Michelle?”

“For now,” mum says stoically. “I’ll go and check on the meal.” Another awkward silence fills the room after mum leaves.

“So, Scott,” Sean says, startling the nervous young man. “Which team d’you support?”

“Uhh… Chelsea,” Sean replies, earning a huge grin from Sean.

“Good man!” Sean laughs, making Scott laugh happily. "How d'you reckon David Luiz has got on since he's been back?"

“Ugh, football,” I say, playfully rolling my eyes to Lily who giggles and also rolls hers.

The meal lasts an hour and a half, by the end of which time Scott has almost completely relaxed, both around me and the rest of my family. Eventually, Scott announces that he needs to leave, and for the first time since he arrived, I frown as I see him to the door.

“I actually really enjoyed tonight,” Scott says as we retreat into the privacy of the hall. “Your parents are cool.”

“Sean’s not my father,” I correct. “…Though he’s MUCH better than my so-called real father, heh. And mum’s just so embarrassing… Half expected her to hook you up to a lie detector or something.”

“So she’s overprotective,” Scott shrugs. “Everyone at school knows what happened to you two years ago.”

“You are SO cool,” I laugh, before leaning in to give Scott a goodbye kiss. However, rather than a simple ‘peck’, this kiss lasts a lot longer, and I feel my knees begin to quiver as Scott’s tongue gently pushes past my painted lips and into my mouth, delicately sampling the taste of my own tongue as our fingers interlink.

The kiss lasts for what feels like an eternity, yet when it ends, I’m desperate for even a second more, so when Scott opens the front door, I immediately formulate a plan. I surprise Scott by placing my finger on his lips, silencing him, before opening and closing the front door. A wide grin creeps across Scott’s face as he realises what I have in mind.

“I’m just going to get changed,” I shout in the direction of the living room before heading upstairs with my boyfriend, our footsteps synchronised to hide the fact that he hasn’t left.

Once we arrive in my bedroom, I immediately launch myself at Scott, giving him another long, deep kiss, exploring his mouth with my tongue just as thoroughly as he'd explored mine. I'm so forceful, in fact, that the young man is momentarily taken aback.

"Umm, Laura," Scott whispers. "We- we aren't going to-"

"Nothing we aren't legally allowed to do," I reply with a giggle. "And besides, it's not legally 'sex' if nothing gets penetrated... So I'm up for a little 'fun' if you are...?" Much to my delight, Scott grind widely and gives me another kiss as we sit down on my bed together, my body tingling from the attention I'm getting from the attractive young man.

Tentatively, I reach a hand underneath Scott's sweater, smiling at the firmness of his abdomen and his chest muscles. I give his pecs a gentle squeeze as we continue kissing, which makes Scott shiver, though seconds later, it's my turn to shiver as Scott gently squeezes my nylon-covered thigh, nervously sliding his hand underneath my skirt (though he is still miles away from my crotch). As Scott slides one hand underneath my tight top, I decide to 'help him out' by removing the clingy garment, kneeling before him in my bed with only my bra to preserve my modesty. I help Scott to remove his sweater, and he shivers slightly in the cold, before shivering in the good way as I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my lace-covered breasts into his bare chest as we kiss deeply yet again. I allow myself to become lost in his embrace, so lost, in fact, that I barely notice the sound of my bedroom door opening...

“LAURA!” Mum bellows as my bedroom door flies open, making me yelp and freeze in shock. “What the hell are you doing!?”

“Mum!” I gasp as I cover up my chest and scramble to put my top back on, whilst Scott hurriedly pulls his sweater back on and rushes out of the room.

“I, um, I should go,” Scott says, his face just as flushed as mine. “See you tomorrow, Laura!” My bottom lip begins to tremble with fear as my boyfriend abandons me to my mother’s angry stare.

“Umm, we weren’t doing anything, I swear,” I plead.

“Save it!” Mum snaps. “I don’t think I have ever been as disappointed in anyone as I am in you right now!”

“But mum-“ I say.

“Don’t you ‘but mum’ me!” Mum growls. “First you deceive me, then you bring a boy up to your room when I specifically warned you about this, and worst of all, you do this when Lily’s in the house and you’re meant to be setting a good example for her!”

“Mum-“ I babble.

“Consider yourself grounded for a week, Laura, and that’s just the start of it!” Mum snaps.

“That’s so unfair!” I retort, inwardly cringing as mum somehow becomes even angrier.

“I’ll happily ground you until the new year, if you’d prefer,” mum spits in my direction.

“We weren’t even having sex!” I say. “We were just having some fun-“

“You could ‘have fun’ with your top on!” Mum snaps. “As far as you’re concerned, anything that’s more than kissing is sex!”

“But- but it's not even sex at all if there's no penetration, not really!” I plead.

“Oh yes it is,” mum snorts. “Who told you that, anyway?”

“…Nicole,” I mumble.

“Someone even younger than you?” Mum asks, frowning as I meekly nod. “Good source of advice, then…”

“…I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“You’d better be,” mum spits. “You’ve really, really let me down, Laura. I thought I could trust you. Obviously I was wrong.” I blink back tears as mum leaves me in the darkness of my room, before my control fails me and I break down completely, wailing into my pillow and screaming with frustration.

I stay in my room for the whole of the rest of the night, completely alone except for when mum briefly returns to confiscate my phone and my tablet computer. Even then, I can’t bring myself to look my mother in the eye, keeping my face buried in my pillow as it gets more and more soaked with my tears.

How could I have been so stupid? What made me think I’d even get away with hiding Scott in my room? Was it even worth feeling as bad as I feel now, was it worth losing the respect of my mother, possibly forever? God only knows how grandma will react when mum tells her… Was I really THAT desperate to be a ‘big girl’ like Priya and Nicole?

Even after changing into my nightdress and climbing into bed, my emotions are so scrambled that I’m not able to get any sleep throughout the night. When I slink down to breakfast the following morning, I’m so ashamed that I’m not able to look anyone in the eye- especially not Lily, who’s eating her breakfast as though nothing happened. I grab my morning coffee and bowl of corn flakes and start eating in silence, though I barely have any appetite, and every bite I take makes me feel more and more sick…

“Big night tonight,” Sean says, breaking the awkward silence that had filled the room. “…The ballet recital?” Despite myself, I groan as I’m reminded that despite my misery, I’m going to have to force a smile onto my face tonight in front of hundreds of strangers.

“Aren’t you looking forward to dancing, Laura?” Lily asks me, making me cringe as mum fixes me with an angry stare.

“…It’s a long story,” I mumble as I choke down my cereal.

“I’d be really excited if it was me,” Lily says quietly. “Getting to wear a beautiful tutu, dancing in front of a huge crowd, getting a round of applause…”

“It’s also making me pretty nervous,” I half-lie. “I mean, what if I make a mistake? Like, a really, really big one…”

“…Nah,” Lily says, confidently shaking her head. “You’d never make a mistake, you’re awesome!” I grimace as I briefly lock eyes with my mum, whose look is a mixture of shame and ‘I told you so’.

“Will Scott be coming tonight?” Lily asks, making mum and I sigh simultaneously.

“He couldn’t get a ticket, it, um, sold out too fast,” I half-lie.

“Pity,” Lily says. “He seems really nice. Even if he is too obsessed with football.”

“No more obsessed than Laura is with gymnastics and dancing!” Sean- who obviously knows about my punishment- says, trying (and failing) to cheer both of us up.

“Yeah,” Lily laughs. “I’d like to be a gymnast when I’m older. AND a ballerina.”

“So basically,” Sean teases his daughter, “you want to be Laura when you’re older?”

“…Yeah,” Lily says with a smug grin. “That’d be cool.” I gaze over at mum again, expecting yet more shame, only to see sympathy in her eyes.

After dropping Lily off at primary school, though, I realise that what little sympathy mum has is vastly outweighed by her anger.

“Let’s get something straight,” mum says in the stern tone that nearly tore me apart last night. “The only reason you’re going to this recital tonight is because you’d let a lot of people down if you didn’t.”

“Yes, mum,” I mumble.

“I expect you to do your dance, then we’re heading straight home,” mum continues.

“Yes, mum,” I mumble.

“Obviously I can’t stop you from hanging out with your friends at school,” mum says. “But if I see you kissing that boy gain as you leave, that’ll be another week you’re grounded. Clear?”

“Yes, mum,” I mumble, sniffing back tears.

“Laura…” Mum sighs. “I’m not punishing you because I enjoy doing it. I want you to realise just how seriously you’ve messed up. If Lily had seen what you were doing last night-“

“Lily know how to knock,” I interrupt mum, grimacing as I immediately regret my petulance.

“DON’T- ugh,” mum spits. “You’re not getting it, are you?”

“Have you really forgotten what it was like to be a teenaged girl?” I ask, making mum sigh sadly.

“…I know it looks that way,” mum says. “But believe me when I say that if your grandmother had caught me doing what I caught you doing, I’d probably have been shipped off to a nunnery or something.”

“Those nuns would get a hell of a shock if I showed up there and they ever saw me naked,” I retort, eliciting an actual laugh from my mother.

“…Probably,” mum concedes as we pull up at my school gate. “Go on, have fun. It’s not like I can stop THAT, heh.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, sliding out of the car and tugging the hem of my skirt down to its ‘proper’ length. “Just one question…”

“Go on,” mum says.

“If Scott and I had both been sixteen…” I begin.

“Yes, you’d be punished as severely as you are now,” mum says. “It’s the fact that you deceived me that hurts the most, Laura. When you’re sixteen, and you have a boyfriend who’s also sixteen… If you both want privacy, ask and I’ll give it to you. If I think that you’re mature enough to be trusted alone with him, okay? You’ll have a chance to prove that over this next week.”

“I understand,” I whisper, before walking toward the school entrance, where my seven friends greet me with excited hugs- though their excitement fades when they see the sombre look on my face.

“Oh- Laura, what’s up?” Suriya asks. “Thought you’d be all excited about tonight… You’re not THAT nervous, are you?”

“Last night was the WORST night of my life,” I moan, earning more hugs from my friends. “Scott came round to meet my mum, and Sean and Lily… Ugh. Dis-as-ter.”

“They didn’t like him?” Priya asks.

“No, the actual meal went fine,” I say, before realising the severity of what I’m about to confess. “It’s just afterward, umm… I kinda… Kinda took Scott up to my bedroom…”

“Oh my god!” Megan gasps, her jaw dropping.

“You- you did- please tell me you didn’t…” Harriet whispers.

“We didn’t ‘do’ anything,” I say, my cheeks burning with shame. “We just had a bit of fun… Maybe with our tops off…”

“Oh god, Laura…” Nicole moans, giving me a tight hug as I sniff back tears. “Did Scott-“

“He didn’t do anything,” I say. “He was okay the whole way through, didn’t force anything… But then mum walked in-“

“Ugh,” Suriya sighs, taking over from Nicole on ‘hug duty’. “Grounded?”

“For a week,” I sigh. “And I’m lucky that it’s just that. Feel like I’ve let everyone down…”

“Laura…” Priya whispers, pointing to the side where a familiar tall, attractive young man is walking up to our group.

“S-Scott?” I ask, smiling at the sight of the boy I haven’t had any contact with since he ran off last night.

“H-hi, Laura,” Scott whispers.

“I am SO sorry about last night,” I babble. “I didn’t know that mum would walk in on us like that, I didn’t-“

“Please, let me speak,” Scott says, clearly nervous about what he has to say. “Laura, I- I don’t think we should be boyfriend and girlfriend anymore.”

“Wh-what!?” I squeak.

“Last- last night-“ Scott stammers. “It, um, I don’t, um, feel comfortable going out with you. Sorry, Laura.”

“But- but- are you serious?” I say as my chest feels like it’s about to be crushed.

“It’s not you, it’s me,” Scott babbles. “I’m not comfortable with a transgendered girl, um, bye, Laura.”

“You have precisely five second to get out of here with your balls intact,” Harriet snarls as she steps in front of me protectively. “Five. Four.” Knowing better than to stick around, Scott immediately slinks away as I feel bile start to rise in my throat. Harriet immediately takes charge and leads me to the nearest girls toilet- even though it’s one I’m not technically allowed in- where I empty my stomach into a toilet bowl.

“…Thanks,” I sob, before bawling my eyes out as Harriet gives me a tight hug.

“We- we should get to form,” Harriet whispers. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” I whisper.

“Please tell me that’s the first time you’ve thrown up recently,” Harriet sighs. “And the ONLY time.”

“It is,” I say with a smile, even though the feeling of emptiness in my stomach feels just as good as it ever did…

“Sorry we’re late, Mr. Sheldon,” Harriet says as we walk into form, and are confronted by several staring pairs of eyes. “Laura was, um, sick…” I grimace as my classmates’ stares intensify- all of them are well aware of my earlier battle with bulimia.

“Oh dear,” Mr. Sheldon says. “Are you okay to be here today, Laura?”

“I should be fine,” I whisper as Harriet and I take our seats next to Nicole and Suriya.

In truth, though, I’m not fine, and for the first two lessons of the day, I barely keep it together, and by the time break rolls around, it’s a relief to be able to slump forward on our usual table and bawl my eyes out while my friends take turns comforting me. Just when I think things can’t get any worse, my crying is interrupted by the arrival of Priya, fresh from prefect duty- and the look on her face tells me that she does NOT have good news for me.

“H- hi, Laura,” the Indian girl whispers as she sits down. “I think you should know- not that I’m saying that I believe the rumour, or that I’m helping to spread it-“

“Just say it,” I sob.

“Scott, he-“ Priya says, before audibly gulping. “Scott’s saying… Scott’s saying that you and he, umm, ‘went all the way’ last night. That he, you know, took your virginity-“

“I WILL RIP HIS BALLS OFF!” Harriet screeches, startling the entire table. “That dirty bastard!” Whilst I’m just as angry as Harriet- and would be quite happy to see Scott lose his balls- all Priya’s news does is send my head back down onto the table as yet more tears flow from my eyes.

Somehow, I hold myself together for my third lesson of the day, though by the time lunch rolls around, I feel so weak that I can barely go on with anything, let alone the rest of the school day- especially as instead of relaxing during lunch and trying to compose myself, I’m going to have to pull on a skimpy cheerleader’s uniform and dance in front of loads of my fellow students.

“We’ll tell Miss Ellison that you’re unwell,” Mia says as we (along with Nicole and Suriya) change into our uniforms in our ‘private changing room’.

“The school already knows that you’ve been unwell today,” Nicole says. “It won’t matter if you miss one practice session.”

“No,” I whisper as I pull on the sparkly white tank top and tie my hair back using a multi-coloured scrunchie. “I can’t let myself be beaten like this. Besides, I want to be an actress when I’m older… Might as well get in practice now.”

“…Good luck,” Nicole whispers as the four of us head out into the cold winter air to join the rest of the cheerleading team. Rather than practise in a gymnasium or a classroom, cheer practice is always done out on the playing field where we’d normally cheer on our sports teams. The stated reason for this is so that the rest of the school can join in with the school spirit that we’re promoting, but many of the girls on the team (myself included) reckon it’s just because the male teachers enjoy staring at 14 to 16 year old girls in skimpy outfits.

Of course, it’s not just the teachers who enjoy doing that- Thursday cheer practice always sees a lot of the students coming along to watch, and whilst some, like the rest of our ‘gang’, are here to ‘cheer on the cheerleaders’, a lot undoubtedly come along just to ogle us. I’m unsurprised when I stare out at the crowd and see Suriya’s boyfriend paying close attention to the tiny Indian girl as she dances with the rest of us, but it doesn’t take long for me to realise that Scott will now NEVER come to watch me dance. In fact, a quick glance over at the nearby playing field shows him playing football with his friends, just as though nothing had ever happened…

“Eek!” I squeak as my distraction causes me to stumble mid-step, and I barely avoid falling flat on my backside in front of the whole school. “Sorry, sorry…”

“It’s okay,” Miss Ellison says. “That’s why we have these practice sessions, to work out any errors.”

“Laura’s not been well today,” Suriya hastily says, earning a stern stare from me. “She was sick earlier today.”

“Is this true, Laura?” Miss Ellison asks me, sighing as I nod. “Would you rather sit out the rest of the session? You don’t want to make yourself more ill…”

“I-“ I being replying, before gazing out into the crowd. Naturally, Priya, Harriet, Megan and Ashley are all stood nearby with concerned expressions on their faces, but just to the side of them is a face I’ve never noticed before- that of Kain, whose facial expression is just as concerned as those of my friends’.

“…I’ll be fine,” I whisper. “Just another ten minutes to go, anyway.”

“That’s the spirit!” Miss Ellison says with a warm smile, before I return to the line-up with the other girls and finish the practice session without another flaw.

It’s a relief when the school day finally ends and I’m able to put it behind me, leaving the building as fast as possible so as to avoid any potential run-in with my now ex-boyfriend (who, thankfully, is nowhere to be seen).

“Good day?” Mum asks stoically as I slump down hard onto her car’s passenger seat, not even bothering to smooth my skirt first.

“No,” I moan. “Scott dumped me.”

“Oh god,” mum gasps, the shame in her voice being replaced by genuine sympathy. “What happened?”

“I dunno,” I shrug, checking over my shoulder to make sure that Lily isn’t in the car. “Maybe he got frightened by my family or something.”

“Don’t push it,” mum snarls, before sighing. “…Are you still okay for tonight?”

“I’ll be okay,” I whisper. “Not the first time my heart’s been broken. Probably won’t be the last, either.”

“I am really, really sorry, Laura,” mum says softly. “You’re still grounded, of course.”

“Yeah, I figured,” I sigh. “I’m sorry too.”

“I believe you,” mum whispers, obviously close to tears herself. “So no more boys for a while, then?”

“HELL no!” I say, making mum giggle.

“Good,” mum says. “Behaviour aside, you’re far too precious to just throw yourself at the first boy who comes along. Never forget that, Laura.”

“I won’t,” I whisper as we head back home.

After a mercifully small dinner, we- along with Sean and Lily- immediately head to the small theatre that Miss Fullerton has hired for tonight’s performance, and it’s only as I’m ushered in the performer’s entrance that my nerves finally start to kick in.

“Laura, this way,” Miss Fullerton says, intercepting me before I’ve taken two steps inside the theatre. “Please tell me you’ve got your pointes with you…”

“As if I’d forget them,” I retort, making the tall dance teacher giggle. “God, I can’t believe how nervous I am…”

“Trust me, EVERYONE gets nervous every time they go on stage,” Miss Fullerton says, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Hell, I’ve been the star of a reality TV show for the last three years, and even I get stage fright sometimes.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, “but I’ve been on stage before… This is different, it- it’s kinda personal.”

“Oh no, what’s happened?” Miss Fullerton asks.

“…I got dumped,” I say, making Miss Fullerton sigh sympathetically. “Just this morning, actually.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Miss Fullerton sighs. “Stupid BOY, can’t appreciate an awesome girlfriend when she’s literally right under his nose. Were you going out long?”

“Four days,” I say with a snort of laughter.

“…Christ, I AM getting old,” Miss Fullerton laughs as I arrive at the main dressing room, where the other soloists (including Suriya) greet me as they’re changing into their tutus.

“Hey Laura,” Suriya- who is already wearing her make-up and her tutu- says, giving me a gentle hug. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” I say confidently. “I know this dance backwards, I’ll be okay.”

“I wasn’t asking about the dance,” Suriya says as I strip down to my underwear and pull on my pale orange coloured dance tights, before sitting down and allowing the theatre’s professional make-up artist to work on my face.

“…It’s getting better,” I whisper. “Slowly… God, what was I thinking? Just demanding some random year 11 boy like that… And I let myself get REALLY close to him as well. NEVER making that mistake again.”

“Good,” Suriya says softly. “Because you looked really, REALLY hurt today. I was actually worried for you. More worried than when you told us you got together with Scott, heh.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, giving Suriya a gentle hug before allowing her to lace my tutu closed. The costume really is gorgeous- unlike Suriya’s bell skirt, my tutu is stiff, sticking out several inches from my waist and is adorned with delicate patterned stitching all over. The production’s name is ‘Le Soixante-Troisieme Papillon’, which means ‘the sixty-third butterfly’, so I also have a pair of wings on my back that unfurl throughout my dance, as my solo is supposed to represent the emergence of the butterfly from her chrysalis. On my head is a delicate silver tiara, adorned with fake orange and black jewels- the colours of the eponymous butterfly.

“Gorgeous,” Suriya- whose own tutu is pretty amazing- says as she takes a photo of me with her phone.

“Stupid boys can’t appreciate awesome girlfriends whilst they’re right underneath their noses,” I say with a smug grin as I join the other soloists in the centre of the room ahead of an ‘inspection’ by our teachers.

“Beautiful, all of you!” Miss Fullerton says, happily clapping her hands as Mademoiselle Renou hands us all a small jewellery box each. “As this is the very first performance of the very first ballet that Mademoiselle Renou and I have written from scratch, we felt it was only appropriate to give you all a little gift, as a token of our gratitude for bringing Le Soixante-Troisieme Papillon to life.” I and the other girls open our boxes, and as one, we all gasp at what’s inside- a small pendant in the shape of a pointe shoe, with the phrase ‘ballerinas are the athletes of god’ inscribed on the side.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, before returning the dainty jewellery to its box.

“It is also true,” Mademoiselle Renou says with a smug grin. “Tonight, you are all true ballerinas, and that makes you greater than any ordinary person. You are immortal, and nobody may raise a hand or speak ill to an athlete of god.” Tell that to my mum… Or to my ex, I think to myself as I follow the other ballerinas to the stage wings. As we wait, Miss Fullerton and Mademoiselle Renou introduce themselves and the performance to the crowd- and the sound of the applause they get tells me that there are a LOT of people in audience.

“Oooooh boy,” Suriya says, nervously fanning herself with her hands as the first performers take their positions on stage. “This is it, this is it…”

“Do not be nervous!” Mademoiselle Renou chastises us. “You all passed auditions. If we did not think that you could not dance, we would not have given you the chance.”

“Mademoiselle Renou is right,” Miss Fullerton says. “We know you’ll all make us proud tonight.” If only mum could hear you, I self-pityingly think to myself as I try not to fidget in my tutu. “Laura, can I have a word?” My eyes go wide as Miss Fullerton singles me out and gestures to a small, private space away from the rest of the crowd.

“Umm, okay,” I say as I hesitantly follow the blonde woman. “Am- am I-“

“In trouble?” Miss Fullerton asks. “Hardly. I just thought I should tell you that there are a few press here tonight, mostly for me but I did overhear a few talking about the ‘transgendered ballerina’ in the show, so they may seek you out after the performance.”

“Heh, assuming mum will let me stick around after the performance,” I snort.

“Why wouldn’t she?” Miss Fullerton asks. “I know it’s a school night, but still…”

“Because I- I’m kinda grounded,” I sigh. “That so-called boyfriend I told you about? We… We kinda fooled about a little, last night. Mum walked in on us and kinda went nuclear.”

“Ugh, been there!” Miss Fullerton laughs. “I don’t need to know the details, especially as you’re underage, but trust me when I say you’re not the only girl to have been caught by her mum like that. Not even close.”

“…You?” I ask, gasping as the tall woman blushes and nods.

“I’d just turned fifteen, too,” Miss Fullerton says. “It was my sister who ratted me out to my mum, the fu- the swot…”

“…Was he worth it?” I ask, giggling as Miss Fullerton grins at me.

“SHE was,” the tall woman replies, making my jaw drops. “She was my best friend at school, but I’d always had the hots for her, and she fancied me too… One thing led to another and- well, not the person I’d imagined losing my virginity to, but… Yeah. In a way, I’m kinda glad I did. I learned a LOT. The most important thing I learned was ‘there are some things you can’t undo’.” And, I think to myself, that saying 'if there's no penetration then it's not sex' is apparently a load of crap.

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“Your mum will get over it,” Miss Fullerton says. “She’s probably in shock at the thought of her little girl turning into a young woman. Especially considering your past, heh. I know your mum, she’s pretty open-minded, but if you told her five years ago that her little boy would be bringing another boy home the day before dressing in a big, frilly tutu…”

“Like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly,” I say, making my teacher grin widely.

“Exactly,” Miss Fullerton says, before checking her watch and taking a deep breath. “Speaking of which, it’s just about time for you to get out there and do your thing!”

“I guess!” I breathe excitedly. “Thanks, Miss Fullerton.”

“After this talk? You can call me Krystie,” Miss Fullerton says. “Just don’t try taking first name privileges with Mademoiselle Renou!”

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan to!” I giggle, before taking a deep breath and stepping out on stage, bowing to the politely applauding audience (none of whom I can see due to the stage lights, thankfully) before heading to my starting position and waiting for the music to start. The memory of my stumble during cheer practice this afternoon weighs heavily in my mind as I prepare to dance, but Miss Fullerton’s and Mademoiselle Renou’s advice and encouragement resonates with me, and when the first bars of the music plays, I rise en pointe and prepare to dance.

My dance goes flawlessly. Every step I make was perfect, my body is making all the right shapes, right down to my fingertips, and in my face I convey the emotion of the butterfly emerging from its chrysalis- the excitement at growing up, becoming an adult- but also the fear at leaving behind a childhood that I only barely got the chance to experience. By the end of the dance, I’m almost in tears myself- and by the time I reach the backstage area, I AM in tears, tears that only get faster as Suriya (who has long since completed her solo dance) gives me a tight hug.

“You are beautiful,” Suriya says to me, trying to calm me down. “You are gorgeous, you are elegant, you are girly and you are AWESOME!”

“You are,” an unexpected voice says- the voice of my mother. Without thinking, I free myself from my friend’s embrace and rush toward my mother, allowing her to wrap me in a tight hug. “Okay, you’ve made a few mistakes. We all have. But I am so, so proud that I can say that you are my daughter.”

“Thank you,” I sniff, before giggling as mum fastens my new pendant around my neck.

“You’re still grounded, of course,” mum says, making me laugh and roll my eyes. “…But I think you deserve to have tonight.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, before Suriya leads me back to where the very proud Miss Fullerton and Mademoiselle Renou are waiting.

“Just one more solo, then the curtain call,” Miss Fullerton squeaks excitedly. “Soak it up, because you girls were AMAZING out there.”

“Beautiful angels,” Mademoiselle Renou gushes as the final bars of the music plays, and the entire audience roars with cheering and applause.

On cue, I and the other soloists follow Miss Fullerton and Mademoiselle Renou out onto the stage where we take our bows, before we’re joined by all the other dancers in the production, including our other six friends, all of whom had a part tonight, no matter how small. I feel almost embarrassed as I, like the other soloists, am handed a large bouquet of flowers, before we all have our photographs taken by Miss Fullerton’s photographer (a very friendly older girl named Katie) and by some press photographers.

I’m stood in my tutu and pointe shoes for another forty-five minutes as I’m photographed over and over, often posing en pointe for the camera despite the pain in my feet. I’m repeatedly praised by my friends and by my family- especially Lily, who now wants to be a professional ballerina! As the attention is lavished on me, one thought occupies my mind- ‘I wish that Scott was here’. It’s a thought that’s occupied my mind since before I stepped on stage, since before I even arrived at the theatre, in fact.

However, the meaning behind the thought has changed. As I arrived at the theatre my only thought was ‘I wish Scott was here, I miss him’. Now, the thought is ‘I wish Scott was here so he can see what he’s missing’. I AM gorgeous, and beautiful, and feminine, and elegant and graceful. All this despite having what some might consider the ultimate handicap- at least, the ultimate handicap when it comes to living life as a girl. If Scott REALLY dumped me for being transgendered, or if any boy ever rejects me for the way I was born, then it’s his loss- and he’ll be the biggest loser of them all.

I actually have tears in my eyes- again- as I remove my pointe shoes and my beautiful tutu and change back into the short black skirt I wore to the theatre, which feels almost like a baggy pair of jeans when compared to the gorgeous concoction I just danced in.

“Back to reality, eh?” Miss Fullerton asks, giggling as I nod. “Don’t worry, I have a feeling that’s not going to be the last tutu you ever dance in, hehe!”

“Yeah,” I laugh as I replace my dance tights with a pair of thick black tights. “Even if it is just playing dress-up with Lily, heh.”

“Oh, I see tutus and pointe shoes in her future too,” Miss Fullerton teases. “You take care of yourself, Laura. Don’t let any stupid BOY get you down!”

“Oh, I won’t,” I say smugly. “As far as I’m concerned, boys can form a line!”

“Atta girl!” Miss Fullerton says with a proud grin.

“Miss Fullerton…” I say cautiously. “That- that girl you told me about, that girl that…”

“…Yes?” Miss Fullerton replies.

“Do- do you still, you know,” I mumble. “Do you keep in touch with her?”

“I see her on Facebook every now and again,” Miss Fullerton shrugs. “She’s cool… But I have much, much better friends now!”

“The Angels,” I whisper with a smile.

“Like your little Angels,” Miss Fullerton says, giggling as I grimace. “Sorry, I know you don’t like that name… Though it is accurate.”

“Yeah, because we’re all super-famous and have our own reality TV show,” I snort.

“No, because you’re all true friends who’d do anything for each other,” Miss Fullerton retorts. “One thing I’ve learned over the last twenty-four years of life is that lovers come and go, and sure, you may eventually find ‘the one’… But when you find a girl who is a true friend, you cling onto them for dear life. And if you’re lucky enough to find as many as we both have… It doesn’t get any better than that, Laura.”

"You're right," I say with a happy, satisfied grin.

The following day, I go into school with my skirt hiked as high as I think I can get away with, not to attract any boys, but because I want to. And because last night, my legs carried me to a critically acclaimed ballet performance, and they deserve some attention!

Even for a Friday, the whole school day is relaxed. Last night's recital is the only topic of conversation at our table, to the extent that it's as if Scott (or any other boys, for that matter) never existed- and this is more than fine by me.

As much as it hurt, and as much as I suffered punishment from it, in a way I'm glad I went through what I went through with Scott. I've learned a lot over the last few days- to trust my mother's judgement over that of my friends, to value what I have... And that sometimes having what you want isn't as good as wanting what you have.

I'll find a boyfriend soon. I may even find 'the one', as Miss Fullerton puts it. But I don't need to hurry. I'm only fifteen, and I'm not going to be sixteen for another eleven months. Plenty of time to find someone who I really want to be with. And then, when we're both sixteen, and I feel the time is right... Well, that's a topic for another time.

And as I leave school for the final time this week, I'm reminded that not all teenage boys are the sex-obsessed, knuckle-dragging morons that they're supposed to be.

"Laura!" A familiar shy male voice calls as I head toward the school exit.

"Oh, hey Kain!" I say with a sympathetic smile. "Look, I, um, I'm sorry about earlier in the week, when I-"

"No, I knew you had a boyfriend, I was the dumb one," Kain sighs. "I just, um, I'm sorry about you and Scott."

"S'okay," I say with a grin. "Look, I, uh, I'm still not kinda ready, I'm afraid, I, um, I just want to be single for a while, if that's okay?"

"Oh, um, okay," Kain says, clearly disappointed.

"But when I'm ready, you'll be the first to know, okay?" I ask.

"Oh, um, okay!" Kain says, perking up as we reach the car park. Knowing full well that mum will be watching me like a hawk, I grin wickedly, before standing on my tiptoes (Kain's at least six inches taller than me) and giving the young man a gentle kiss on his cheek. I have a wide grin on my face as I get into my mum's car, even as she fixes me with an angry glare.

"What did I say about kissing boys?" Mum asks, keeping her temper in check so as not to upset Lily (who's sat on the back seat).

"You said 'don't kiss Scott'," I retort. "That's not Scott, that's Kain, a boy from my class, who is nothing like Scott. And no, he's not my boyfriend, I just think he's cool, that's all. And I kissed him on the cheek, not the lips, so it's not technically a kiss in the manner you were thinking of."

"...So you only use your mouth nowadays for kissing boys and being smart with me?" Mum asks.

"Not 'only'," I say. "Just, you know, 'mostly'." I try not to smirk as Lily giggles and mum sighs.

"Well fortunately, you have a nice, big weekend of chores to look forward to," mum says, wiping the smirk off my face. "Starting tonight, as your ballet class is taking the night off."

"Yes, mum," I sigh.

"Does that mean you'll be able to play with me all weekend?" Lily asks, bringing smiles to both my face and my mother's.

"That depends," I say with a knowing grin. "Would you like to dress up in a real Indian sari?"

Lily's enthusiastic reaction tells me all I need to know- and reminds me of how truly, truly blessed I am.

“Ahh…” I sigh happily as I slide my sweat-stained pink tights off my smooth, glistening legs. “That feels SO much better…”

“Ugh, I hear you,” Ashley sighs as she does likewise. “Never thought I’d EVER get sick of wearing tights…”

“Oh trust me,” I giggle, “come October, you will be BEGGING to be allowed to wear them!”

“What else is new?” Mia teases the blonde girl, who blushes as she covers her spaghetti-strapped leotard with a loose summer dress.

“Come on,” Suri urges as she unties her severe ballerina’s bun and lets her long black hair cascade over her shoulders. “Don’t want to keep daddy waiting.”

“Sure,” I say, hastily untying my bun into a loose, blonde ponytail and pulling on the short, flared denim skirt that I’d worn to class. “Still weird, not having to squash up on the back seat of your dad’s car…”

“Yeah,” Suri sighs sadly as we slide into Mr. Malik’s people carrier. “Still, Priya was never into ballet as the rest of us, and she’s got college to look forward to, and her part-time job now…”

“It was Priya who got us in the class in the first place!” Nicole giggles, before letting out a sad sigh. “Well, you and Priya, anyway. Can’t believe that a year from now, we’ll all have left school too… Kinda wish things didn’t have to change.”

“I dunno,” I muse as I adjust the top of my leotard, staring at the two soft mounds contained within. “Some changes ARE good…”

It’s a good job that I’m comfortable with change, as a lot has changed over the last six months, things that make Priya leaving school (and ballet class) seem like nothing.

Probably the most significant change came in March, when mum and I moved house for the first time since I was a toddler. I adjusted quickly to the change of location, of course- it wasn’t THAT far from where we used to live (certainly close enough that I didn’t have to move school, thank god), and I definitely love having a larger bedroom (and much larger wardrobe space, hehe!). What DID take getting used to, however, was waking up each morning and being greeted not just by mum, but by Sean and Lily as well.

In April, whilst the four of us were out at a restaurant celebrating Sean’s birthday, he shocked everyone by getting down on one knee and proposing to my mum. Unsurprisingly, mum said yes, and shortly afterward, the four of us all moved in together. The wedding won’t be for at least another year, though mum has said she wants it to be before I’m eighteen for two reasons- firstly, it’ll be before I go away for university (assuming I leave London), and secondly, as I’m mum’s maid of honour, I WON’T be able to drink alcohol on the hen night! Lily is obviously excited by the wedding as well (especially as she’ll also be a bridesmaid), but my brother… Well, it’s safe to say he isn’t. He’s never got along with Sean, which is a shame as Sean’s been far more of a father to me than my ‘actual’ father ever has. It’s not a case of Ricky hoping that mum will get back with Robert, as he hates him almost as much as I do, but it’s still causing a rift in our new family… Which will only get worse when we all gather tomorrow to celebrate Ricky’s 24th birthday.

A celebration to which Ricky will apparently be bringing a date (who we’re all eager to meet)… But I, of course, won’t. Ever since my ‘thing’ with Scott, I’ve been kinda off boys. Well, not ‘off’ them as such- I still fancy boys, of course- but I’ve not been nearly as eager to hook up with a guy as I was just after my fifteenth birthday. It ‘helps’ that most of my free time is dominated with studying for my GCSEs. And ballet class (especially as Miss Fullerton says she may advance me and Suri into her elite class). And gymnastics, and cheerleading, and most excitingly of all, my acting. I’ve consistently impressed my drama teachers with my performances in school plays, and they’ve said that they’ll write letters of recommendation for me to talent agencies if I want, which may lead to work in commercials, or even on a proper TV show. I’ve even done some modelling work in the last few months, modelling dancewear for a company Miss Fullerton’s associated with.

Of course, whilst all this has resulted in me having less time for boys, it’s resulted in them having a LOT more time for me. Sometimes I laugh that four years ago, when I started school, I was seen as a ‘freak’ or a ‘loser’ and bullied by what seemed like everyone outside my close circle of friends. Now, at the end of year 10, I turn the heads of a LOT of the boys in both my year and the year above. Of course, it helps that I have long, slender legs, a mercifully narrow waist and, of course, my B-cup breasts, whereas back in years 7 and 8, I really was (physically speaking, anyway) just a boy wearing a skirt. I sometimes wonder, though, whether Scott's lie about the two of us is helping or hindering this. As with all school rumours, it fizzled out after just a few weeks (helped by the fact that it was in the run-up to Christmas, which kinda dominated everyone's thoughts), and nowadays the most persistent rumour is one I'm only too willing to encourage- the 'fact' that I'm about to become a national celebrity, all thanks to a photoshoot Ashley and I did a few months ago with a group of celebrities, including Jamie-Lee from the Angels and Stephanie from Out of Heaven.

Naturally, this fame only resulted in me becoming even more popular with the boys at school and elsewhere. At the photoshoot, I met a 17 year old transman named Ian who clearly had the hots for me. Well, I say 'met', in actuality I've known him for a while, as he used to attend my ballet class as a girl named Kayleigh-Ann- but he is much, MUCH cuter as a guy! He may not have had the courage to ask me out, but that hasn't stopped many of the boys from school. Kain in particular has ‘persisted’, and even asked me out a few times in the last few months. He’s such a sweet boy that I very, very nearly said yes more than once! Whenever I think about my ‘appeal’ to boys, though, I actually find myself feeling sorry for Ashley, having to go through the rest of school as a girl but having already started puberty as a boy… But the confidence she gets from her skirt, not to mention how much happier she seems now that she can be the REAL her. Just like I’ve been the REAL me for the last four years. Well, apart from those few days three years ago, anyway…

Sometimes, though, I wonder what Robert- I refuse to call him ‘dad’- would think if he saw me kissing a boy. I can picture him now, sat in his prison cell, his face getting ever redder as he imagines me with my mouth wrapped around a boy’s tongue- or may even another part of his anatomy. After all, my sixteenth birthday is only five months away…

As I arrive back home, though, I remember that even if I was sixteen, I’d still have to ‘behave’ myself if I brought a boy home- not least because of who greets me when I enter the living room.

“Hi Laura!” Lily says as she sits cross-legged on the floor, playing on Sean’s Xbox. “How was ballet?”

“It was cool,” I say, dramatically flopping onto the sofa just as mum comes through from the kitchen.

“Oh that’s right, you just sit there whilst we wait on you hand and foot,” mum sighs.

“When my feet look like this?” I ask, kicking off my flat to show mum the bruises and welts caused by an hour of dancing en pointe. “Still want to get pointe shoes, Lily?”

“…Maybe,” Lily replies, before returning to her game.

“As for you, Darcey Bussell,” mum says, “you’ve got homework to do, AND you need to wrap your brother’s presents for tomorrow!”

“Yes, mum,” I sigh, before heading upstairs to, as advised, finish what little homework I have left, before wrapping up Ricky’s presents of a t-shirt and a CD of one of his favourite bands (as I rely on mum for pocket money, I can’t exactly splash out on him).

Of course, the rest of the evening is spent chatting with my friends on Facebook and Snapchat. Even though we go over the same topics we’ve gone over hundreds of times before- fashion, celebrities, dance, school and, of course, boys- I’m still just as engrossed in the chat as I was the first time I sat down to gossip with the other girls.

The following morning, I groan loudly as my alarm wakes me from a dreamless slumber. It’s already bright and sunny outside despite it only being 7am, and downstairs, I can hear the sound of people moving around. In past years, I used to dread my brother’s birthday, as he’d always insist I waited on him hand and foot and treat him like a king. He never demanded this of mum, of course- and never even dared to act entitled around grandma- but I was always the favourite toy he got to play with on his birthday. When my birthday rolled around, of course, he was usually away somewhere with the Army. At least nowadays, we don’t live together anymore, meaning I’ll only have to put up with him for a few hours tonight before he heads back to his Army base in Yorkshire.

And beforehand, I have a full day of school to get through, which I prepare for by following my usual ritual of getting washed, applying what little make-up I can get away with at school, brushing my hair and tying it into a high ponytail and pulling on my uniform. After zipping up my grey knee-length skirt, I can’t help but let out a little giggle as I pull on my tiny black flats over my bare feet. As it’s June, we no longer have to wear tights with skirts, which is an immense relief for all the girls in the school. On June 1st this year, I and the other girls- which for the first time, included Ashley- took part in an unofficial school ritual where we went into school wearing our tights, only to strip them all off and throw them in the bin before the start of the first lesson. It’s weird to think that this time next year, I’ll have already started my study leave, meaning I won’t get to perform that ritual ever again…

“Morning, eventually!” Sean teases as I sit down at the kitchen table, crossing one leg tightly over the other.

“I’m not THAT late up,” I retort, before taking a deep breath. “…Ricky rung yet?”

“Not yet,” mum whispers. “You know him, he’ll probably text about ten minutes before he arrives, heh.”

“Yeah,” I chuckle, before sighing as Sean gives his daughter’s hand a supportive squeeze.

“It’ll only be for one night,” Sean says to the 10 year old girl. “Then he’ll go back to his army base in the north.”

“I know,” Lily sighs as I feel a pang of guilt flow my body. Whilst Ricky isn’t a fan of our new stepfather, he does like our new stepsister… But the feeling isn’t mutual. All the teasing, all the practical jokes, all the mental anguish I endured as a child is now being directed straight at Lily. I still take my fair share of it as well, of course, but now that I’m older than I was when Ricky lived with us full time, I can usually give as good as I get. Lily, however, is still young, and every time she overreacts to Ricky’s teasing, I feel sad for Lily, angry at my brother… And guilty that it at least isn’t happening to me anymore, and moreover, that it would’ve happened to me regardless of whether I was a boy or a girl.

Obviously, I always defend Lily against Ricky’s teasing, like an older sibling SHOULD. However, that’s going to be especially difficult tonight- Ricky’s never been afraid to play the ‘it’s my birthday’ card in the past to get away with some utterly evil behaviour, and there’s no reason he’s going to stop now…

“Come on, eat up,” mum says. “Don’t want to be late. Either of you!”

“Yes, mum,” I sigh as I wolf down the remainder of my breakfast. “Can you, umm…”

“Yes, I’ll text you when I hear from your brother,” mum says. “Now come on, move!” I playfully roll my eyes as I finish the rest of my breakfast, before following mum out to her car. A short while later, I’m being greeted by my six (remaining) friends at the school gate- all of whom are, of course, dressed identically to me in their knee-length skirts and bare legs.

“Hey girlies!” I squeak as usual as I exchange hugs with the other girls, before the seven of us head to our respective form groups.

After an intense first two lessons (with our GCSE exams less than twelve months away, we’re working harder than ever in our classes), I head outside for our first break of the day. As it’s summer, pupils are allowed to spend breaktimes playing a relaxing on the playing fields, so rather than head to our usual table, I head to the tree at the perimeter of the playing field that the seven of us have claimed as ‘our tree’. As always, I have a smile on my face when I sit down next to my friends and I feel the soft grass tickle the backs of my bare, smooth legs.

“Hey Laura!” Mia says with a giggle. “How was Maths?”

“Ugh, boring as always,” I sigh, prompting giggles from all of my friends. “So… What’s the topic for today?”

“How Constellation are total wannabes,” Mia replies, making me giggle.

“Ugh, I don’t even know why they’re still bothering,” Suriya snorts.

“Yeah,” Megan laughs. “It’s, like, The Grand Tour and Joey’s Top Gear all over again.” I have to suppress a giggle as the rest of us all stare at the tall girl with looks of disapproval in our eyes. “…What? So I like The Grand Tour, big deal.”

“Clarkson’s a misogynist, homophobic ape,” Harriet- ever the feminist- spits. “They all are.”

“That’s half the fun!” Megan protests, making me giggle.

“So what have Constellation been up to now?” I ask in an effort to diffuse the tension.

“It was Dannii Samson’s birthday yesterday,” Mia explains. “She threw herself this big, fancy party with loads of celebrities, and it is OBVIOUS that they all HATE her.”

“Hehe!” Suriya giggles as Mia shows us the photos on her phone of the party.

“Ugh,” I sigh as I’m given an unwelcome reminder of what- or rather, who- is waiting for me when I get home tonight. “Everything’s bloody ‘birthdays’ today…”

“Umm, Laura?” Nicole asks with a giggle. “Something wrong?”

“No,” I sigh as I run my fingers through my long blonde hair. “Maybe. I dunno. It- it’s my brother’s birthday today, which means I’m going to have to put up with him all evening…”

“Ugh,” Ashley spits. “And I say that as someone who’s met your brother.”

“Didn’t he- wasn’t he the one who, umm…” Mia mumbles.

“Rescued me from my dad?” I reply. “Yeah, yeah he was. And he hasn’t let me forget ever since.”

“…It was kinda a big deal, though,” Harriet says.

“Oh, I know, and I get that, really,” I say. “It’s just- gah, I dunno. When I was four, we went to the beach, and- ugh, I can’t believe I’m telling you all this…”

“Go on…” Suriya urges as my cheeks start to redden.

“We went to the beach,” I sigh. “And- and I went in a paddling pool. I mean, it really was a paddling pool, barely six inches deep, but- but I slipped, went face-first into the pool, and before I could pick myself up, Ricky had jumped in and hauled me out of the pool.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Nicole sighed, making me snort derisively.

“What wasn’t sweet was the fact that he kept boasting about it for literally years afterward,” I spat. “Literally brought it up every time he had a girl around and he was trying to impress her.”

“Ooh, six inches of water, SO impressive!” Harriet snorts sarcastically.

“The way he tells it you’d think it was fifty feet deep and full of sharks,” I snort. “But he’s always been like that… And I DO owe him my life. Ugh, and I guess it’ll only be for one evening, then he’ll head back up north with his Army buddies for the next month or so.”

“And tomorrow night,” Suriya squeaks excitedly, “you get to be a hot, spicy Latina!”

“Oh yes, the extra dancing lessons,” Ashley giggles with a twinge of jealousy in her voice. “So… When do we get to see you strutting your stuff?”

“When we’re a little better at it!” I giggle. “We’ve only been going a few months… It IS really, REALLY fun, though!”

“We’ve been learning Argentine Tango all month,” Suriya squeaks. “Like they do on Strictly, with all the leg flicking...”

“So cool,” Nicole sighs. “Wish my parents would let me go, but they’ll barely let me do ballet anymore, ever since my ankle…”

“I’ll dance with you,” Mia shrugs, making Nicole giggle as she hauled her to her feet and entertained us for the rest of break by pretending to Argentine Tango with her- which unsurprisingly excites many of the younger boys watching, and more importantly, takes my mind off of tonight’s ‘birthday party’.

Eventually, the bell rings to signify the start of the next lesson, and just over an hour later, it rings again to signify the lesson’s end and the start of lunch. As today is Wednesday, rather than head to our tree to relax, I instead head to my ‘private changing room’, where I meet up with Nicole, Suriya and Ashley, all of whom are in the process of stripping off their uniforms and pulling on their stretchy gymnastics leotards. As it’s summer, competitions are over for the year, meaning that we had to hand back the gorgeous long-sleeved leotards we were issued at the start of the year, which means that we all change into plain red tank leotards instead. Not that we’re complaining, of course- our own leotards breathe MUCH better than the team ones. They’re just as tight and feminine as the team ones, though, which definitely brings a big smile to mine and Ashley’s faces!

“It still sucks that they won’t let you into competitions,” I say to my fellow transgendered girl as I re-tie my hair with a sparkling red scrunchie. “If Miss Edwards reckons you’re good enough for the club…”

“Meh, I’ll live,” Ashley shrugs. “Still feel kinda self-conscious, you know, in the team…”

“Well you SHOULDN’T,” Suriya says. “You’re as much a girl as the rest of us.”

“Take it from someone who knows,” I say as I pull a feminine pose in my leotard, which earns playful wolf whistles from the other girls.

“You’re as much a gorgeous, girly, gymnastics girl as the rest of us!” Nicole cheers, pulling a pose of her own.

“Thanks, girlies!” Ashley giggles with a happy sigh. “Sometimes I kinda need to hear that, you know…”

“Oh trust me, I know,” I chuckle. “Sometimes I wonder whether or not I do all the girliest things possible just to, you know, ‘prove something’.”

“I do all the same girly things as you, what’s my excuse?” Suriya retorts, making me and Ashley giggle.

“…Point taken,” I laugh. “That’s something my- sorry, OUR counsellor’s said a lot as well.”

“Yeah, Dr Williamson’s said that to me too,” Ashley sighs. “Reminds me that enjoying feminine activities just reinforces the fact that I want to be a girl rather than the other way round.”

“Umm, excuse me?” Nicole asks. “’Want to be’ a girl? Looks to me from where I’m standing that you already ARE a girl! Both of you!”

“Girl life forever!” Ashley and I cheer, making Nicole and Suri cheer as we head up to the vast gymnasium.

Half an hour later, with our bodies slick with sweat following a strenuous practice session, the four of us return to our ‘private changing room’ to change ahead of our final lesson of the day. Ordinarily, we’d leave our leotards on underneath our uniforms, but with it being VERY hot outside, the leotards have become a bit too sweaty to still be considered comfortable, so off they come- leading to sighs of relief from all four of us!

“Just one more lesson to go, then it’s the big birthday party!” Ashley teases, earning a playful shove as we walk toward our next lessons.

“Shut up,” I mumble, before sighing as I see a familiar tall figure in the corridor ahead of us.

“Maybe if you took Kain to the party, it’d shut your brother up a bit?” Ashley asks, making me groan and roll my eyes.

“For the last time, he is NOT my boyfriend,” I growl, momentarily silencing the 14 year old girl.

“…Nor was I,” Ashley says. “Didn’t stop you from-“

“Goodbye, Ashley!” I sigh, bidding the younger girl farewell with an extravagant wave. “See you tomorrow!” I let out another sigh as Ashley mirrors my wave, before heading to her next lesson with a giggle.

Naturally, I’m not able to concentrate nearly as well in my final lesson as I was in the first few lessons of the day, and by the time the bell rings to signify the end of the school day, I’m downright anxious about tonight. I try to relax by listening to music on my phone (Out of Heaven, naturally) as I head down to mum’s car, but even that doesn’t help much.

“Good day?” Mum asks as I elegantly slide onto the passenger seat of her car.

“Not bad,” I shrug. “Heard from-“

“Your brother will be coming round just after 5pm,” mum says, interrupting my question before I have the chance to finish it. “You don’t need to look THAT upset, your grandmother will be there too, you know she won’t let Ricky get away with picking on you. Either of you. Birthday or not.”

“Yeah, but he’ll be trying to impress his new girlfriend,” I retort.

“Well let’s just hope she’s a girl who doesn’t fall for his childish stunts,” mum says.

“No offence intended by ‘childish’, Lily,” I say to the ten year old girl on the back seat. “You’re a lot more mature than Ricky is most of the time.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lily replies, making me and my mum giggle as we head back toward our new home.

Once we arrive home, I head straight up to my bedroom to change out of my uniform and into the outfit I picked out last night. The dress I chose is a very simple lilac sundress with narrow shoulder straps, a flared knee-length skirt and a neckline just low enough to hint at cleavage without actually showing any. After fixing my make-up (but not enhancing it- grandma is coming around too, after all) I open the drawers of my dresser and stares happily at the vast selection of accessories within. I eventually settle for a thin, dark purple belt that complements my dress and a selection of multi-coloured bangles and bracelets on each arm. My gold studs come out of my ears to be replaced by larger, more elaborate gold hoops, I wrap a delicate gold chain around my neck, and my ponytail comes undone, letting my platinum blonde hair cascade over my shoulders. Finally, I repaint my toenails a delicate purple colour (to match my dress), before slipping my feet into a pair of cute open-toed sandals with a chunky 2 inch heel. I pose with one hand on my hip as I take a photograph of myself in my mirror for my Instagram account (2500 followers and counting!) before heading downstairs to be greeted by smiles of approval from the rest of my family.

“Very grown up,” Sean says with a proud grin.

“Very pretty!” Lily giggles.

“Aww, thanks!” I giggle as I do a twirl in my dress. “You look very pretty too, Lily!”

“I know,” Lily says with a nervous giggle as she fidgets in her own party dress.

“You both look very beautiful,” mum says with a smile, before Lily and I both fidget as the doorbell rings.

“You haven’t given him his own key yet, then?” I ask.

“Don’t you start,” mum snorts as she gets up to answer the door. “I’m going to have enough from him tonight…” I force a smile on my face as mum opens the front door and exchanges a kiss with her oldest child. “Happy birthday!”

“Thanks,” Ricky says in his usual laid-back manner, before turning to look at me. “You’re making mum answer the door for you, then?”

“Happy birthday, Rick,” I sigh, deliberately ignoring my brother’s question.

“Where’s your lady friend?” Mum asks. “Thought you were bringing her tonight?”

“She’s just parking the car,” Ricky says as he makes himself comfortable on the sofa, wedging himself between me and Lily and making us both feel instantly uncomfortable. At least he knows better than to try to force a hug on me…

“…Wait, SHE drove?” Mum asks. “YOU actually let a woman drive YOU?”

“What’s weird about that?” Lily asks. “What’s wrong with women driving?”

“Good question,” I say, turning to my brother and smirking as a look of discomfort comes over his face. “Rick?”

“Umm, nothing,” Ricky says, squirming slightly in his seat. “Nothing at all…” A genuine grin starts to creep over my face- Ricky’s largest fault is easily his male pride, his insistence on being what he considers to be ‘chivalrous’. If a woman has driven him, rather than the other way round…

“Sprained your ankle or something?” I tease my brother, who squirms yet again. “Who is this mystery woman, anyway?” Before Ricky can answer me, we’re interrupted by Ricky’s new girlfriend making her presence known outside

“Hi, sorry I’m late,” a female voice yells from outside the front door in a north-eastern accent that sounds strangely familiar. “I HATE parking in London. Oh, hi! You must be Michelle. I’m-“

“Alice. Devry?” I ask, my jaw dropping at the sight of the tall red-haired woman.

“Hi!” The red-haired woman says, grinning as Ricky stands up, wraps his arm around the famous model and gives her a gentle kiss. “You must be Laura! We’ve actually met before at one of Krystie’s shows, dunno if you remember me or not.”

“Yeah,” I say, still in a state of shock. “Yeah, I kinda do…”

“Told you,” Ricky says with a smug grin. “You owe me a tenner. This is my future stepfather Sean, and the little one is my future stepsister Lily. Try not to sit on her, I know she’s small but-“ Ricky giggles as Alice gives him a playful elbow in the ribs, silencing him in a way I’ve never seen anyone do before.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Alice says as she sits down in one of the spare seats we’ve brought into the living room. Much to my surprise, Ricky then sits down next to her, having apparently abandoned his plan of tormenting me and Lily. As relieved as this makes me, though, it doesn’t make up for the shock of seeing my brother with his arm wrapped around a bona fide Angel.

“How- how the h-“ I ask, before being interrupted by my mother.

“So, how did the two of you meet?” Mum asks.

“Can’t I open my presents first?” Ricky protests, giggling as he earns yet another elbow from his girlfriend.

“Your grandmother isn’t here yet!” Alice chastises my brother, and while he responds with a giggle, I can’t help but notice that his protest HAS abruptly stopped…

“Oh, I like you!” Mum says, making the red-haired woman giggle as she straightens her short designer skirt.

“I did a photoshoot up in North Yorkshire, where Ricky's based,” Alice explains. “On his base, like, a publicity thing for the Angels and the Army, 'cause I'm from just up the road from his base. We got chatting- Ricky mentioned that Laura studies at Krystie's school, so we had something in common right away, and well, long story short, Ricky asked me out and, well, I thought ‘why not’?”

“But- but you could be going out with, like, a footballer, or a singer,” I say.

“Oh thanks, sis,” Ricky snorts.

“Why would I want a footballer or a singer?” Alice shrugs. “Just ‘cause I’m famous doesn’t mean I’m too good for someone, you know, ‘normal’…”

“’Normal’, thanks,” Ricky teases.

“That was meant as a compliment, ya moron!” Alice laughs in her thick Teesside accent.

“It does raise a question, though,” Sean says. “How are you making it work long-distance? I mean, I assume you’re now based in London, and Ricky lives up north-“

“Oh, I quit the Army,” Ricky says, nearly making me and mum choke on our drinks.

“You- you WHAT?” Mum asks.

“I quit,” Ricky shrugs. “I’m officially no longer a soldier.”

“Are- are you serious?” Mum asks, rolling her eyes in shock as my brother nods. “What are you doing with yourself now?”

“Mooching off of Alice,” Ricky says, giggling as yet another elbow finds its way into his ribs.

“No he isn’t,” Alice says. “Tell them, go on!” Ricky lets out a quiet chuckle, before taking a deep breath.

“I’m going to university in September,” Ricky explains. “I’ve been accepted onto a degree course at a college in London.”

“Oh, Ricky!” Mum says, her frustration immediately replaced by a look of pride. “What will you be studying?”

“It’s a teacher training course,” Ricky says. “Going to be teaching PE.”

“Not at my school, I hope,” I say with a chuckle.

“Well you shouldn’t worry about that, because I’d only be teaching boy’s PE,” Ricky clarifies. “Football, rugby, basketball, that sort of thing. This week I’ve been helping with track & field.”

“Fair enough,” I shrug.

“And you haven’t noticed me so far this week,” Ricky says, making me nearly choke on my drink.

“Wh- wh- what?” I ask, coughing twice and making Ricky laugh even more at my expense.

“I’ve been on work experience at your school since Monday,” Ricky explains. “Don’t worry, I’m only there until Friday. What? It was my old school too, obviously I’d pick there to do my work experience. You were really good at your gymnastics club today, by the way.”

“You- you saw me in my leotard!?” I hiss, before a knock comes from the front door that only slightly calms me down.

“That’ll be your grandmother!” Mum says, clearly as grateful for the distraction as I am, not that it helps to calm my scrambled mind. My brother is dating one of my favourite celebrities, someone whose social media I follow religiously, and I didn’t know it? Even worse, he’s been in my school all week, and I didn’t realise? Sure, it’s a big school, but still…

“Happy birthday young man!” Grandma says as she exchanges a hug with the much taller Ricky. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your young lady?”

“Umm, of course,” Ricky says, his bravado noticeably dented by grandma’s arrival. “Grandma, this is Alice, Alice, this is my grandmother.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Alice,” grandma says, before sitting down on the sofa next to me and Lily (Lily having scooched next to me to make room for the elderly woman).

“Likewise, Mrs. Clarke!” Alice says, clearly impressing grandma with her knowledge of her name.

“That’s a lovely accent,” grandma says. “What part of the world are you from, Alice?”

“Stockton-On-Tees,” Alice says with a proud grin. “Up in the north-east. Next to Middlesbrough, only smaller and better!”

“Can I open my presents now, please?” Ricky asks, earning a stern stare from grandma.

“After we’ve eaten, young man,” grandma says, making Ricky wither back into his seat as Alice, Lily and I giggle at his expense- though I’m still in a state of shock that he, of all people, is dating an Angel.

Frustratingly, Ricky and Alice stick around long after we’ve eaten dinner (and Ricky has opened his presents), and are still around even after Sean has put Lily to bed, the poor girl looking exhausted due to Ricky’s teasing. Grandma’s (and Alice’s presence) helped to soothe Ricky’s need for mischief at the start, but as the evening wore on, he started pushing to see how much he could get away with (his tales of applying for university winning a lot of points with grandma)- and with Lily getting increasingly tired, it didn’t take long for him to make her VERY wound up. Much to my mother’s inevitable irritation, the first thing Sean does upon returning to the living room is confront his future stepson about his behaviour.

“You know,” Sean sighs, “you could be a lot more sensitive in the way you treat your stepsister.”

“What?” Ricky protests. “I was just teasing, it’s harmless!”

“Lily was nearly in tears,” Sean protests.

“But she didn’t cry, though,” Ricky shrugs. “I used to tease Laura all the time, she was fine with it.”

“Umm, no I wasn’t?” I retort. “You pushed me to tears and way, way past tears loads of times!”

“Yeah, but you were a boy back then, and that was what was REALLY making you upset,” Ricky counters, making me clench my hands into fists as a wave of anger washes over me, an anger I only feel in the presence of my brother.

“Do NOT use that as an excuse!” I growl.

“Richard! Laura!” Grandma snaps, instantly silencing both of us. “I am sorry that you have to witness this, Alice.”

“Aye, I’ve got an older brother, I know what it’s like,” Alice sighs. “I WILL have words with him when we get home, Laura.”

“Thanks,” I whisper.

“You’ll have to get used to the teasing anyway,” Ricky says. “It’s just how boys are.”

“Yeah, I know about male ego,” I snort.

“Umm…” Sean grimaces. “There’s- there’s a big difference between teasing and what Scott did.”

“…Who’s ‘Scott’?” Ricky asks, making me screw my face up in frustration.

“Good question,” grandma asks, which makes me groan.

“He’s- he’s an ex-boyfriend,” I sigh. “Thankfully an ‘ex’.”

“What, was he ugly?” Ricky asks, visibly trying not to wince at the stares his comment earns from his girlfriend and our grandmother.

“No,” I retort. “He was fit, actually. REALLY fit. And obviously okay with being with a transgendered girlfriend… Ugh. We- we broke up because he kinda- kinda-“ I hesitate as I glance sideways at grandma- of all the people to be talking about sex in front of, she’d be bottom of the list, even below Lily…

“He spread a rumour about Laura,” mum says in a dark voice. “About, well, ‘him and Laura’.” Ricky’s eyes go wide as I feel my cheeks start to redden.

“…Oh,” Ricky says. “I see.”

“I’m older now than you were when- well, when…” I feebly retort.

“Was it just a rumour?” Ricky asks.

“Yes, honestly, it was!” I retort in a desperate voice as I glance up at grandma’s disapproving stare. All of a sudden, I feel VERY young and VERY small…

“I HATE slut-shaming,” Alice hisses. “Umm, not that I’m implying that you’re, umm, you know…”

“I know,” I whisper. “Kinda why I’ve steered clear of boys for the last few months, heh.”

“Sensible girl,” grandma says, some of the pride returning to her face. “Especially after all you’ve gone through the last few years…” I bite my lip to try to keep myself from crying- it’s obvious that grandma’s referring to my struggle with bulimia, even if she can’t say the words themselves.

“And besides,” Alice says hesitantly, breaking the silence, “surely you can have your pick of the boys, right? I mean, you’re one of Krystie’s top dancers, you’re on the school’s gymnastics team, you’re obviously VERY beautiful…”

“Thanks,” I mumble. “I… I also kinda don’t have what others girl, you know, have… Some boys just can’t look past ‘that’, heh.”

“Boys your age shouldn’t be looking at ‘that’ at all!” Grandma states firmly, clearly as uncomfortable as I am with the topic of conversation. “No matter what ‘that’ is…”

“Laura WILL be sixteen this time next year,” Ricky shrugs. “Last time I checked, that WAS the age of consent…”

“Well perhaps it shouldn’t be,” grandma says, her offended tone of voice effectively bringing the conversation to a screeching halt.

Unsurprisingly, this also means that the ‘party’ itself comes to a screeching halt a short while later, with Ricky and Alice heading off first, before grandma bids us all farewell- and for the first time ever, her farewell to me doesn’t include our usual hug. Once I’m alone with mum and Sean, I let a long-brewing groan of pure frustration.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” mum says, sitting down next to me and giving me a gentle hug. “It’s over now.”

“But it isn’t, though,” I moan. “Ricky now works at my school, for god’s sake! You know he’s going to make a point of running into me as much as he can the next two days…”

“He hasn’t for the last three days,” Sean shrugs.

“Probably because he wanted to ‘save’ it for today,” I sigh. “Bet that was my REAL birthday present to him.”

“Don’t be so harsh!” Mum chastises. “It’s good that he wants to do something else with his life. He wouldn’t have quit the Army and signed up for a university course- which as you well know, is VERY expensive- if he just wanted to play a prank on you.

“Besides,” Sean says, “like he said, he’ll only be doing boys’ PE, you’ll barely even see him.”

“I- I’m going to bed,” I sigh. “Got to be up early tomorrow for, umm, for school…”

“G’night,” mum says quietly as I take off my shoes and pad up the stairs to my bedroom.

A short while later, my face is scrubbed clean of make-up and my body is clad only in the extra-long light blue t-shirt that makes up my summer nightwear. Before I switch off my nightlight, though, I grab my tablet computer from my nightstand and open up the Angels’ app, browsing to the page of the woman who was in my house mere hours earlier. On none of her blog posts or Instagram photos is there any hint that she might be dating my brother, or any other man- then again, given her job, she might want to appear ‘available’…

After closing the Angels’ app, I open up my brother’s Facebook page, but that has even fewer clues on it- he only updates it at most a few times a year. He hasn’t even put his leaving the Army on there- then again, he never put his being in the Army on there in the first place. Frustrated and flustered by the lack of information about my brother, I get ready to switch off my tablet and try to get to sleep, but before I do, I check to see if anyone is online and on chat- and thankfully, one person is still awake, the person who obviously doesn’t need to be up for school tomorrow.

‘Hi Priya,’ I type. ‘Got a sec?’

‘Sure Laura,’ Priya types. ‘You’re up late, aren’t you?’

‘You’re technically not a prefect anymore, you can’t tell me off,’ I reply with a ‘sticking out tongue’ emoji- before giggling hard as Priya replies with a very un-Priya-like ‘middle finger’ emoji.

‘What’s up, Laura?’ Priya asks. ‘Suri told me that it was your brother’s birthday today, I’m guessing you need some sympathy?’

‘I need a new brain, lol,’ I reply. ‘That party was A-W-K-W-A-R-D. And I found out two things that are totally mind = blown.’

‘Go on…’ Priya asks.

‘Brace yourself as these are big,’ I type.

‘Bracing…’ Priya replies.

‘My brother’s doing work experience at our school,’ I type, before groaning as Priya’s only reply is a ‘laughing’ emoji. ‘It’s not funny! How would you feel if your brother started working at our school?’

‘I’d be fine with it, I don’t go there anymore,’ Priya types with a ‘sticking out tongue’ emoji that makes me roll my eyes. ‘What’s he doing at school?’

‘That’s what I’ wondering!’ I reply.

‘No,’ Priya types. ‘I mean what job is he doing?’

‘Oh, teaching boy’s PE, that’s what he says anyway,’ I reply.

‘Right, so you won’t see him, then?’ Priya asks.

‘I guess not,’ I type. ‘Though he is living in London now.’

‘Not good,’ Priya types. ‘Does he have friends in London? A girlfriend? Something that means you won’t see him as often?’

‘That’s the other thing,’ I type, briefly looking for a ‘sighing’ emoji before just sending the message anyway. ‘He’s going out with Alice Devry.’

‘What?’ Priya types, clearly as shocked as I was when I learned the news. ‘Alice Devry? THE Alice Devry?’

‘Yep,’ I type.

‘OMGWTF?’ Priya types.

‘Yep, that was my reaction,’ I type. ‘She did a publicity shoot at his base, he volunteered for it, asked her out, and now they’re in a relationship.’

‘Wow,’ Priya types.

‘Yep,’ I type. ‘Never knew Ricky even liked the Angels.’

‘Jeez,’ Priya types. ‘Do you want me to keep this to myself or can I tell Suri?’

‘She’ll find out eventually,’ I type. ‘I’m just amazed I found out by Ricky telling me rather than reading it on Alice’s blog or something. Keep expecting to wake up, think this is a bad dream or something.’

‘’Fraid not’, Priya types.

‘Ugh, I so don’t want to go to school tomorrow,’ I type. ‘It’s cheer club, I know Ricky will make a point of coming along to watch…’

‘His celebrity girlfriend approves of him watching 14-16 year old girls in skimpy cheerleader costumes?’ Priya types.

‘One, it’s a uniform, not a costume,’ I retort. ‘And 2, he’ll only come along to try to distract me. Thank god I’m always at the base of the pyramid, lol.’

‘I’ll tell Suri to wear a crash helmet tomorrow,’ Priya types with another ‘sticking out tongue’ emoji that makes me roll my eyes. ‘Try to get some sleep, Laura. Maybe you’ll feel better in the morning.’

‘I doubt it,’ I type with a long sigh. ‘Night, Priya.’

‘Night Laura!’ Priya types with a ‘smiling’ emoji before logging out of Facebook. I follow suit a few seconds later and roll over onto my side, desperately trying to will myself to sleep despite the fact that it’s been one of the most mental days of my life…

I must have eventually dozed off at some point as I’m woken up by the sound of my alarm going off, though it takes several more minutes for me to become fully, properly awake following my restless night. After showering (including shaving away a few stray leg hairs- especially important in bare leg season), I apply my ‘school level’ make-up, pull on my uniform and tie my hair into its usual high ponytail before heading downstairs, where mum is waiting with a sweet-smelling cup of coffee in her hands.

“Figured you might not have slept much last night,” mum says as she hands me the dark-coloured beverage, which I eagerly drink.

“Thanks mum,” I whisper. “It wasn’t a bad dream, then?”

“Why is Ricky going out with a celebrity a bad dream?” Lily asks.

“I think Laura’s more worried about her brother working in her school,” Sean explains.

“I really want to talk to Dr Williamson about it,” I sigh. “But we had to move the appointment to Monday, and by then, Ricky won’t be in school anymore so it’ll be kinda pointless…”

“You could always give her a call,” mum shrugs.

“Not got time,” I sigh. “Not with Latin dancing tonight and ballet tomorrow. I suppose it won’t be TOO bad, I won’t see him in any classes… I really, really don’t want to go to cheer club today, though…”

“Pull a sickie if you want,” Sean says. “But you were the one who said that if you missed any classes, it meant that you wouldn’t be in the running for club captain next year.”

“It’ll just be two more days,” mum says. “And you’ll be busy this evening and tomorrow dancing, like you said.”

“That just leaves every other evening from now until forever when he can randomly drop round, now he’s living in London,” I say, offering a sympathetic smile as Lily groans.

“All the more reason to focus on your schoolwork,” mum advises as I finish my coffee. “Your brother can’t argue that you’ll need your space to study, especially as he’ll be studying hard himself come September. And speaking of studying, you two grab your bags before you’re late for school!”

“Yes mum,” I sigh as Lily and I grab my bags and follow mum out to her car.

A short while later, I’m greeted as always at the school gate by my six friends. Today, however, there is only one topic of conversation on their lips.

“Oh. My. God!” Suri squeaks. “Priya told me last night about your brother and- Oh. My. God!”

“How is that even possible?” Ashley asks. “I thought- I thought that celebrities, you know, only date other celebrities?”

“I wish,” I snort. “They met at his camp when she did a publicity shoot for the Army, and- ugh, I guess my brother isn’t THAT bad looking…”

“Thanks!” A familiar male voice shouts from behind me, and instantly I wish that the ground would just open up and swallow me whole.

“What are- oh, just pi-“ I retort.

“Swearing at a teacher?” Ricky chuckles. “You want to spend the rest of your life in detention?”

“You’re work experience, you can’t give out detentions,” I say.

“No, but I have friends in high places,” Ricky laughs.

“Come on, Laura,” Harriet says, moving to stand between me and Ricky. “The BOY isn’t worth it!” I have to giggle at the sight of my ginger-haired friend standing up to my brother despite the ten inch height difference. My giggles intensify when Ricky actually backs down and heads to his first class of the day- though the laugh he gives as he goes tells me that it’s going to be a long two days.

Fortunately, I’m able to forget about my stresses when I reach form and sit around my usual table with Nicole, Suri and Harriet. However, my relaxation is only allowed to last a few seconds, my tension increasing yet again when I overhear a conversation on a nearby table.

“…Is a total knob,” one of the boys snorts. “You can tell he used to be in the Army.”

“He was a total prat at basketball practice,” another boy says, his voice piquing my interest- as the voice happens to belong to none other than Kain Dawson. “It was like he was playing keep away with anyone shorter than him…”

“Hey,” I say at the boys’ desk, silencing their conversation. “Who- who’s this you’re talking about?”

“Umm, there’s a new student teacher in PE,” Kain explains. “Guy called ‘Mr. White’. He- he’s not related to you, is he?”

“He’s my brother,” I say with a long, tired sigh. “And you’re right, he IS a total knob and a total prat. And much worse.”

“Yeah,” Kain laughs. “He’s almost as bad as my big brother. At least he’s never come into school, heh.”

“At least I’m a girl so I don’t have to put up with him in lessons,” I say, grinning as the boys on Kain’s table laugh, all of them clearly agreeing with my statement about my gender. “If he keeps acting like a prat, let me know.”

“Umm, what exactly can YOU do?” One of the other boys asks. “Tell your mum on him?”

“Maybe not,” I shrug. “But I can tell my grandma on him. And THAT will terrify him, hehe!” I giggle as the boys all laugh at my joke, before turning back to my friends as Mr. Sheldon arrives to start our form session.

The first three lessons pass smoothly- no prizes for guessing what everyone was talking about under the tree during break- but when the bell rings to signify the start of lunch, I suddenly feel my stomach start to churn. My nerves must be obvious, as while I change into my cheerleading uniform alongside Nicole, Suri and Mia, my three friends all have looks of concern on their faces.

“Why are you so worried, Laura?” Nicole asks as she straightened her short pleated skirt. “All our ‘actual’ cheers are done for the year, we’re only practising…”

“I think it’s more about who might be watching today,” Mia says, smiling sympathetically as I nod. “Well don’t worry about HIM. You’re talented, gorgeous and most importantly of all, GIRLY. So go out there with your head held high, okay?”

“…Okay, I guess,” I sigh as I retie my hair using the red and white scrunchie all cheerleaders are required to wear.

“Don’t ‘guess’,” Suri says. “He’s bullied you his whole life. Show him that it isn’t going to happen anymore!”

“You’re right,” I say, taking a deep breath as I straighten my skirt, lace up my trainers, grab my pom-poms and follow my friends out to the playing field where we’re due to practise.

Inevitably, though, we barely take a few steps outside when we’re ‘greeted’ by the smug, smiling face of my brother. I immediately feel myself start to shrink behind my friends, but before I’m made to feel four years old again- or even a day younger than I actually am- my friends once again leap to my defense.

“Eww!” Mia sneers at my brother. “Stop staring at my legs, pervert!”

“Yeah,” Nicole says. “Get off on staring at underage girls in cheerleader uniforms, do you?” A smug grin creeps across my face as Ricky’s grin fades, he rolls his eyes and walks away without saying a word.

“…Thanks,” I whisper as we head toward the field to begin our practice.

“Hey, that’s what sisters are for, right?” Mia asks, making me giggle.

Thankfully, Mia and Nicole’s ‘threat’ keeps Ricky away from the playing field throughout cheer practice, which goes without a hitch. After the three of us have changed back into our regular school uniforms, though, I moan with frustration when I exit my ‘private changing room’ and immediately meet the gaze of my brother, who is stood at the opposite end of the school’s vast entrance hall with one of the teachers that he’s shadowing.

“Ugh,” I spit. “There is NO escape…”

“Come on, Laura,” Suri says. I nod and prepare to follow my friends to our final class of the day, when I pause as I notice Ricky talking to another student, a student roughly the same height as him… And much to my surprise, the student just so happens to be Kain.

“Wait,” I whisper, hanging around while Ricky and Kain finish their conversation before walking toward the tall boy- who, as always, looks utterly tongue-tied at the sight of me. If Ricky wants to irritate me at school, well, two can play at that game… And there’s something that I KNOW will wind him up far more than he can wind me up…

“Oh, umm, hi Laura,” Kain mumbles, his cheeks reddening as I approach.

“Hey Kain!” I say in an overly cheerful voice, making sure everyone in the entrance hall- especially my brother- can see the wide grin in my face. “Sooo… What did ‘the moron’ want to talk to you about?”

“Oh, umm, I’ve got PE next,” Kain explains. “Umm, basketball, and your- your brother knows I’m on the team, so he just wanted to chat about it… I, umm, I should go, need to get changed…”

“Sure,” I say, playfully tossing my hair to one side and giggling girlishly as I walk away with a bounce in my step. A quick glance back at Ricky- and the stern expression on his face- lets me know that I won this ‘round’ hands down!

“You tease!” Nicole chastises me as we head to our next class. “You know Kain really, REALLY likes you, right?”

“I know,” I shrug.

“So- so you’re just going to lead him on?” Suri asks.

“I’m not ‘leading him on’,” I say. “I- I’m just flirting a bit, that’s all. And so what if I am leading him on? Maybe I like Kain. He’s tall, he’s cute…”

“His acne has REALLY cleared up the last few months,” Nicole teases.

“Exactly,” I shrug. “He’s athletic, he’s not, like, a macho jerk-“

“-Like your brother?” Mia asks.

“…Exactly,” I sigh. “Okay, maybe I’m just trying to piss my brother off. Tell me that he doesn’t deserve it?”

“Nah, I’m with you on this one,” Suri giggles. “Wonder how he’d react if you kissed Kain?”

“Maybe we’ll find out?” I tease as we head to our lessons.

Just over an hour later, the bell rings to signify that the school day is at an end, and I have a smirk on my face as I gather my books together and head down to the car park. When I reach the car park, though, my smile fades when I see a familiar tall young man waiting for me with a frown on his face.

“H- hi, Laura,” Kain mumbles, intercepting me before I can reach mum’s car. “I, umm…”

“Wh- what’s up?” I ask, confused by Kain’s attitude, which is even more reserved than usual.

“I, umm, I should go, it-“ Kain mumbles.

“Kain, wait,” I say. “You didn’t wait around for me just to say ‘I should go’, what’s happened? Is it my brother?”

“He, umm,” Kain says with a grimace as he glances over to the school’s side entrance, where my brother is stood watching the children leave- but every so often, he glances over at me and Kain with a VERY angry look on his face.

“Actually no, don’t tell me, I can guess,” I spit. “I’m so, so sorry, Kain…”

“It’s okay,” Kain mumbles, before turning to walk away. Before he can take a step, though, I reach out and grab his hand, stopping him. “…Laura?”

“Hey,” I say softly. “D’you- d’you, you know, wanna- wanna hang out sometime?” I grin as the tall boy’s jaw drops and his eyes light up. If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think that Kain had been handed a winning lottery ticket- which, in a kind of way, he has.

“Oh, um, sure!” Kain breathlessly replies. “Do you, umm, I mean, when, umm, I’ll message you! I’ll message you when we’re, umm, both free, okay? If that’s, umm, okay with you, I mean- umm…” I giggle as Kain babbles in response, before rising onto my tiptoes to give him a long, soft kiss on his cheek, which almost makes his faint- and almost makes my brother’s face turn purple with rage!

Stunned by the kiss, Kain stares off into the distance for a good long while, before seemingly returning to reality and looking deep into my eyes with a lopsided grin on his face. Slowly, he leans in toward me, and I instinctively start to pull back, before a little voice in the back of my head reminds me that Kain IS a good looking young man, there ARE plenty of girls in the school who fancy him, but I’m the one he really wants…

I smile- more for Kain’s benefit than Ricky’s, if I’m honest- as I lean in toward Kain and press my lips against his, feeling little lightning bolts leaping between our mouths with every tiny contact. My knees begin to quiver as the pressure on my lips increases and Kain gently tickles my mouth with his tongue, leaving me almost gasping with excitement, and buzzing with energy when Kain pulls back from the kiss.

“I’ll, um, I’ll see you tomorrow!” I say with a nervous giggle.

“Buh-bub-umm, bye, Laura!” Kain babbles as we walk to our respective parents’ cars with wide grins on our faces.

“…ANOTHER new boyfriend?” Mum asks as I sit down on the passenger seat of her car. “You know the rules, Laura…”

“…What do you mean by ‘another’?” I retort. “It’s been months since Scott, I like Kain, he likes me, I don’t see what the big deal is. I’m fifteen, you know? Fifteen year old girls do sometimes have boyfriends?”

“Yes,” mum sighs, clearly unhappy with my explanation. “But- never mind. Fasten your seatbelt.”

“Already done,” I say with a smug smile as the car pulls out of the car park.

Shortly after we arrive home, however, my smile fades when mum all but drags me into the kitchen- and it’s clear from her facial expression that she’s not interested in a casual chat.

“Okay, listen carefully,” mum sighs. “You will NOT be alone in this house with that boy at any time. If we go out and leave you alone in the home, he will NOT be allowed to come round here.”

“God’s sake, mum!” I protest. “So we kissed a couple of times, doesn’t mean I’m going to jump straight into bed with him! Besides, Kain’s birthday’s at the start of April, he’s younger than I am so I couldn’t ‘do’ anything even if I wanted-“

“Enough,” mum sighs. “…Okay, I remember being your age. I remember fancying boys. But it’s a little bit disturbing- and I’m not just speaking as your mother- that you’re not even sixteen yet and this is, what, your third boyfriend?”

“…Fourth if you count Ashley,” I mumble. “Which I don’t, for the record, I-“

“Three it is,” mum concedes. “…Even when you’re both sixteen, the rules still stand.”

“What?” I protest. “For god’s sake, mum! It’s not like I can pregnant, is it?”

“No, but you can catch an STD,” mum says, silencing me. “Or hurt yourself some other way… Laura, I know I’m not going to stop you forever. Sooner or later, you WILL find a way to- well…”

“Have sex?” I ask.

“…Not until you’re emotionally ready for it,” mum says firmly.

“If you had your way, I’d still be a virgin when I was fifty,” I spit.

“Better a virgin at fifty than not a virgin at fifteen,” mum retorts. “Okay, I’ve said all I want to say. Except for this- if I DO find that you and whatever his name is-“

“Kain,” I interrupt. “His name is Kain.”

“If I find out that you and HIM have been sneaking around behind my back,” mum says with a barely-concealed growl, “I may have to rope your grandmother in for babysitting duty again!” I bite my lip and remain silent- I know that this is not an idle threat. “Or maybe even your brother.” This follow-up, though, does make me chuckle, much to mum’s surprise. “What’s so funny?”

“Pretty sure that seeing me snogging a guy would me more of a punishment for him than for me,” I snort. “Especially if you saw how purple he turned when he saw me kissing Kain!”

“L-Laura,” mum says, her anger suddenly giving way for very deep concern. “You- you aren’t just going out with this boy to anger your brother, are you? Because I did NOT raise you to use people like that, and if I find-“

“No, no I didn’t,” I sigh. “Kain’s cute, and he thinks I’m cute, and it’s been, like, six months since the whole ‘Scott incident’ and I- I kinda want a boyfriend, you know? Fed up of being single. And it’s not like I can have my pick of ANY boy in the school… Kinda a miracle than even one boy fancies me…” I feel a pang of guilt in my chest as mum sighs at my speech- I always feel a little bad playing the ‘transgendered card’, but it’s not like what I’m saying is untrue, after all…

“…You know I’ll want to meet him,” mum says. “And this time, I’LL see him out.”

“Fine,” I sigh. “I’ll talk to him on Facebook, see when he’s free.”

“Good,” mum says in a voice barely louder than a mumble. “Now go upstairs and get changed, we’re paying enough for this second dance class of yours, you don’t want to miss it…” I grin as I head upstairs, where I strip off my uniform and pull on the plain black leggings and tank top that make up my ‘uniform’ for my other dance class- a Latin dancing class that Suri and I signed up for a few months ago.

After a quick dinner, we head to the class, where I spend the evening cha-cha-chaing and salsaing with several young men, working up a sweat- both from the activity and the young men's bodies! Before we leave, though, my petite Indian friend looks at me with a look of concern on her face.

“…I saw ‘the kiss’,” Suri says quietly as we pack away our heeled dancing shoes and slip our designer trainers back onto our feet.

“Yeah, it was a good one!” I giggle. “If I’d know how good a kisser he was, I might have started snogging him earlier!”

“I’m just worried that-“ Suri says, before being interrupted by a groan from me.

“Oh- why do you need to ‘worry’ at all?” I ask. “I’m cute, he’s cute, everyone’s cute! We live in Cute Britain, in the London Borough of Cute!”

“Jeez, okay, sorry I asked!” Suri snaps.

“Yeah, so am I,” I retort, before sighing. “Suri… I- I’m sorry, okay? Yeah, maybe I’m not head over heels for Kain like he is for me, but- but maybe I’m just fed up of being single, you know? And besides, Kain isn’t like Scott, Kain’s a lot sweeter, less up himself.”

“It’s not Kain who’s worrying me,” Suri says, making me groan again.

“Read my lips,” I sigh. “I am not- I repeat, NOT- dating Kain just to get at my brother, okay? He won’t even BE in school next week…”

“…Well, okay, I guess,” Suri says, before the smile final returns to her pretty face. “As long as you remember that is sisters before misters!”

“Always!” I giggle, exchanging a quick hug with the petite girl before heading back to her father’s people carrier.

After arriving back home, I let out a long sigh as I strip off my sweaty dancewear and change into a comfortable long t-shirt, ready for bed (even though it’s still relatively early), before switching on my tablet computer and curling up on my bed, whiling away the evening browsing my friends’ latest Facebook updates. I’m not online for long, though, when I receive a notification that makes me giggle excitedly.

‘Please confirm that you are in a relationship with Kain Dawson,’ the notification reads. He’s moving fast, I think to myself. Nonetheless, I click ‘confirm’, which automatically adds the news to my own wall. Within seconds, my post gets several likes, as well as the inevitable comments saying ‘OMG’ or similar. There’s one reaction, though, that doesn’t make me smile- a notification of a new private message from my brother. I shudder as I open up the chat window, knowing immediately that whatever Ricky’s typed, I won’t like it…

‘You shouldn’t start a relationship yet,’ Ricky types, making me roll my eyes. ‘Not while there are still rumours about you in school.’

‘What rumours?’ I reply. ‘It was six months ago. Unless you mean rumours about me being transgendered. If that’s what it is, then OMG! My life is ruined by these rumours!’ I add several ‘eye rolling’ emojis to the end of my message to make sure Ricky understands exactly where he can stick his advice.

‘I hear a lot at your school,’ Ricky types. ‘A lot of the kids reckon you’ll spread for anyone. That’s NOT a reputation you need and getting a boyfriend now will only make people think it’s true.’

‘I’ve been single for six months,’ I retort. ‘Everyone knows that. And if I’m in a relationship that just means I’m not spreading for ANYONE. Only Kain.’ I mull over adding a smiling emoji at the end of my message, but eventually send it ‘unadorned’.

‘Exactly, you’ll be dragging Kain down with you,’ Ricky types. ‘He’s a good kid and doesn’t need that sort of shit.’

‘Such a good kid that you threatened him after PE?’ I retort.

‘I didn’t threaten him,’ Ricky replies almost instantly. ‘I explained to him that you have a habit of attracting trouble and he’d be biting off more than he can chew.’

‘If he wants to ‘chew’ me, that’s his business,’ I type with a ‘sticking out tongue’ emoji.

‘This isn’t some game,’ Ricky types, the irritation clear in his words. ‘You’ve got another year at school, you don’t want to go through it being known as the school bike. You’ve got it bad enough as it is.’

‘What do you mean ‘I’ve got it bad enough as it is’?’ I reply.

‘You know full well what I mean,’ Ricky replies.

‘I want you to say it,’ I reply, typing with one hand while another clenches into a fist.

‘You’re opening yourself up to being bullied by being transgendered,’ Ricky types, making me growl with anger. ‘Whether it’s right or not is irrelevant, it’s just a plain fact that that’s how it is.’

‘People need to get over themselves,’ I type, cringing the second I send the message at how naïve I’ve managed to make myself sound.

‘Yes well that’s obviously not going to happen overnight, is it?’ Ricky types. ‘I’ve been made aware of what happened with those arsewipes earlier in the year who bullied you and your friend Ashley. I’m not saying they didn’t get what they deserved, because they did, and I’m not saying that everyone is going to be as twattish as them, but you have to be prepared for the possibility that everyone could be.’

‘And are you one of those people?’ I ask.

‘I’m insulted that you need to ask,’ Ricky types. ‘Obviously you’re not interested in good advice. I don’t want to sit back and watch you fuck your life up, but if you’d rather I do that, then fine.’

‘Good,’ I reply petulantly, my anger levels almost reaching boiling point at Ricky’s smug, superior attitude. ‘Ttyl, bro.’

‘Ttyl, sis,’ Ricky types before leaving me in peace. I take several deep breaths to calm myself down as I try to put Ricky’s ‘advice’ to the back of my mind, before checking the list of people who are currently online. A smile instantly spreads across my face when I see whose name is on top of the list.

‘Hey boo,’ I type, ending my message with a ‘winking’ and a ‘kissing’ emoji.

‘Hey babe,’ Kain responds with a ‘kissing’ emoji of his own that makes me giggle girlishly. ‘What you up to right now?’

‘Just laid on my bed,’ I reply. ‘Been Latin dancing all evening.’

‘Cool!’ Kain types. ‘Like they do on Strictly?’

‘Yep!’ I type with a ‘giggling’ emoji. ‘Been wiggling my hips and my bum all evening…’ I giggle out loud as Kain replies with a ‘drooling’ emoji.

‘Sounds fun,’ Kain types. ‘I’ve just been playing FIFA all evening, lol.’

‘Sounds relaxing,’ I type. ‘God I could use some relaxing now, just chatted with my brother online.’ I punctuate my message with an ‘angry’ emoji that earns a ‘laughing’ emoji from Kain.

‘Sorry, didn’t mean to laugh,’ Kain types with a ‘blushing’ emoji that makes me giggle.

‘It’s okay,’ I type. ‘It is kinda funny…’

‘Yeah,’ Kain replies, his ‘smiling’ emoji making me giggle even more.

‘Does everyone really think he’s a knob?’ I type. ‘At school, I mean.’

‘YES,’ Kain replies, making me shriek with laughter at his use of capitals. ‘He literally swaggers around the school like he owns it, treats everyone on the team like prisoners.’

‘Welcome to the first fifteen years of my life,’ I type with an ‘eye rolling’ emoji. ‘Got any good examples?’ I giggle out loud as Kain and I spend the next forty-five minutes discussing how much of a knob my brother is, before ending our conversation by exchanging countless ‘kissing’ emojis.

It’s so nice to have a boyfriend who isn’t afraid to express his feelings, even if it is in emoji form. And sure, I might have initially only cared about winding Ricky up, but Kain IS a really, really nice guy (which is a hell of a rarity at my school), and he IS really, really cute… I have a very good feeling about this relationship.

This feeling is reinforced the following morning when I head into school and, after greeting my friends with our usual hugs, I head into form with my arms wrapped around Kain’s long, muscular arm- and given that my boobs are pressing against his arm, it’s clear that he’s VERY happy with this arrangement too! Of course, not everyone in the class approves of the ‘arrangement’, but what’s most disappointing is that the most sneers are coming from another table of girls. When I see which girl is leading the sneers, though, I let out an involuntary sigh of frustration- just like I’ve had boyfriends before, Kain’s had girlfriends before, one of whom just so happens to be in our form…

“Got a problem with us, Madison?” I ask the black-haired girl, who just sneers at me in much the same way she’s done behind my back for the past four years.

“Yeah,” Madison replies. “I never realised that Kain was gay! I’m glad I dumped him when I did.”

“Erm, I dumped YOU,” Kain retorts.

“Yeah,” Madison sneers. “’Cause you’re GAY!” Kain and I roll our eyes as all of the girls on Madison’s table giggle at our expense. Before I open my mouth to respond, however, an unexpected- but very welcome- presence makes itself known in the argument.

“And what’s wrong with being gay?” Harriet asks, her arm folded. “Not that Kain or Laura are, are they?”

“Well- well, it ain’t right, is it?” Madison mumbles, clearly intimidated by the ginger girl, who has developed a reputation for being one of the toughest girls in school ever since her assault of Sam Reid.

“Want to say that to my face?” Harriet asks, clearly aware of and playing on her reputation. “Didn’t think so.”

“…You’re kinda scary,” Kain mumbles as we sit back down at our respective tables.

“Thank you,” Harriet says with a smug grin.

“I hope your dad escapes from prison and kidnaps you again!” Madison yells, causing my cheeks to redden with anger as Harriet silences the black-haired girl with an angry glare.

“Just ignore the stupid little girl, Laura,” Harriet sneers, before letting out a long sigh. “She- ugh. She was kinda, in year seven…”

“I get it,” I whisper, remembering back to the time when Harriet herself would treat me in much the same way as Madison- and often even worse. No doubt, during year seven, the two of them were friends, ‘allied’ against me…

“How can anyone say that about your dad?” Nicole spits.

“I’d rather no one said ANYTHING about my so-called ‘dad’,” I mumble, taking several deep breaths to calm myself. “Good OR bad.”

“…Sorry,” Nicole mumbles.

“How can anyone still be prejudiced against gay people?” Suriya snorts. “Sometimes I kinda wish that I was gay… You know it’s still illegal in India, right? I mean, how can anyone help the way they’re born?”

“Exactly,” Harriet says. “Same goes for being transgendered. Even though Laura is FAR too cute to be wasted on a boy, hehe!”

“Aww,” I giggle as my cheeks redden with embarrassment rather than anger. “…You’ve always got Ashley…”

“Who is as much as girl as Laura, and therefore as much as girl as any of us!” Suri says.

“Really,” Nicole teases. “What’s stopping you, Harriet?”

“...Maybe once her boobs have grown a bit,” Harriet giggles as Mr. Sheldon arrives to begin our form session, during which Madison and her cronies are thankfully quiet.

The threat of a Harriet beat down keeps Madison- and any other potential ‘commentators’- away throughout the whole day, during which Kain and I spend a lot of time exchanges glances- and, when we can get away with it, cuddles and even the occasional kiss! Of course, at break and lunch, Kain spends his time playing basketball with his all-male group of friends, though as I spend all of my time sat on the grass with my all-female group gossiping about boys, fashion and dancing, I’m not really in a position to complain!

By the time the bell rings to signal the end of the day- and the week- I’m on a high I haven’t felt in a long, long time, and even Ricky’s presence in the car park, stood where he was yesterday, can’t wipe the smile off of my face. I’m so happy that I barely even notice when a pair of masculine arms encircle my waist from behind…

“Aiiiiieeeee!” I shriek, my heart racing as I’m lifted off the ground, just as I was three years ago. Tears flow freely from my eyes as I desperately thrash and kick against my abductor’s grip, scratching his hands with my long fingernails until he drops me, wincing in pain and staring at me with a look of utter disbelief on his face.

“L- Laura?” Kain mumbles, cradling his bleeding hands. “What-“

“Don’t touch me!” I shriek, cowering behind the rear bumper of the nearest car as my legs give way and I sink to my knees, scratching my smooth skin against the hard tarmac.

“What the hell are you doing?” The familiar voice of my brother yells as he approaches- and it actually takes me a second to realise that he’s not yelling at me, but at Kain.

“I- I was just-“ the teenager mumbles.

“Go on, get out of here!” Ricky barks. “Get lost! NOW!” Faced with a look of utter fury, Kain quickly scurries away, not looking back once as I cower behind the car.

“R- Rick-“ I sob.

“It’s okay, Laura,” Ricky says, his face immediately softening as he helps me onto my feet. “I’ll take you home. Go and sit in my car.”

“Uh- uh-huh,” I say, before grimacing as I feel a warm liquid slowly trickle down my thigh. “I- I, um, I think I’ve wet myself…”

“There’s a towel in the boot, put that on the passenger seat before you sit down,” Ricky whispers, untucking my blouse from my skirt and letting it hang loose in an attempt to disguise any ‘patches’ that might appear. I follow my brother’s instructions and sit down on the passenger seat of his Vauxhall Astra, taking several deep breaths to calm myself before bursting into a flood of tears. Every time I think I’m making progress, every time I think I’m growing up, something always happens to set me right back to square one. Kain probably thought he was being cute, or romantic, and now he’ll probably never even look at me again, and it’s all my fault. No- it’s not my fault, there’s only one person to blame…

“FUCK ROBERT WHITE!” I screech as I almost literally spasm with anger. “FUCK HIM TO HELL!” I shriek with terror once again as I hear a gentle knock come from the window right next to my head.

“…Feel better for that?” Ricky asks, smiling as I nod. “I’ve talked to mum, she’ll expect you home in a bit. Think me and you need to have a talk first.”

“I am seriously not in the mood for talking,” I moan as Ricky sits down in the driver’s seat. “God… I’m never going to live this down…”

“Ah, good to see you’re fifteen again and not five,” Ricky chuckles. “Haven’t see you this worked up since I rescued you from that swimming pool, heh.”

“Piss off,” I moan.

“Is that any way to speak to the person who rescued you yet again?” Ricky retorts.

“’Rescued’ me?” I snort. “What, from my boyfriend?”

“Yeah, you’re going to want to rethink the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing if he doesn’t know enough to not grab you from behind like that,” Ricky says bluntly.

I remain silent during the drive home, both out of frustration at my brother’s smug attitude and out of the sheer embarrassment of having acted like a terrified infant. Naturally, once I arrive back home, I immediately change out of my stained school skirt and thong and into a looser, more comfortable summer skirt. I try to compose myself as I untie my hair and exchange my blouse for a light-coloured tank top, but the second I return to the living room and set eyes on my family, I burst into tears yet again and have to be comforted by my mother.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” mum whispers softly. “Let it out, let it all out…”

“Lily, go and get ready for ballet,” Sean says softly.

“But I-“ Lily protests.

“Give us some privacy,” Sean whispers, before joining mum and Ricky in escorting me to the sofa.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” I whisper, before sniffling and bursting into yet another flood of tears.

“No, you’re not,” mum says softly. “God, Laura… Ricky- he, umm, told us what happened.”

“I- I’m sorry,” I blub.

“No!” Mum says firmly. “Don’t you dare be sorry! It’s that piece of shit who calls himself your father that should be sorry for doing this to you!”

“I hope he burns in hell,” I growl, earning a chuckle from mum and Sean. “God… I really, really liked Kain too…”

“I’m sure if you give him the chance to apologise,” Sean shrugs. “Explain the situation…”

“Everybody in school knows what happened with me and da- with me and Robert,” I spit. “Kain’s been in my form right from the start…”

“He’s also a teenage boy,” Sean says softly. “You know as well as I do that they’re all idiots.”

“…Sean’s right,” Ricky says, earning stares of confusion from everyone in the room.

“…Seriously?” I ask. “You, of all people? I thought you were going to pull Kain’s head off…”

“Like I said last night,” Ricky says, “Kain’s a good kid. He screwed up. Everyone does from time to time. Even me, on very rare occasions.”

“…He thought you were a knob,” I say, making mum and Sean snort with laughter. “All the boys at school did.”

“Just means I’m doing my job properly then,” Ricky shrugs, utterly unfazed by the insult. “Have a chat with him on Facebook after your dance lesson, clear the air. Unless you were only kissing him just to wind me up, that is.”

“…Okay, I’ll message him when I get home,” I sigh. “I should probably get ready for class, heh.”

“Are you sure you’re up for dancing tonight?” Sean asks. “You were very shaken, you don’t want to spend all night spinning around, getting dizzy…”

“Ballerinas don’t get dizzy,” I say with a smug grin. “Besides, I have to keep up attendance if I want to get in the elite class, and get into recitals… I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll make you something light for dinner, something you can easily digest,” mum says as I head upstairs, a wide, happy grin on my face.

“Thanks, everyone,” I whisper to my three family members, before giggling and returning to the living room to give all them a kiss on their cheek.

“Thanks, mum,” I whisper as I kiss my mother.

“Thanks, bro,” I say as I kiss Ricky, who winces as my lips make contact with his cheek.

“Thanks… Dad,” I say, blinking tears out of my eyes as I give Sean his kiss.

A short while later- after a meal that was thankfully as small as mum promised- Lily and I walk through the front door of the Krystie Fullerton School of Dance, having first bid farewell to our father with a tight hug each. After sending the leotard-clad ten year old off to mingle with the rest of her class, I sit down in one of the comfortable chairs at the side of the room, a couple of seats along from the very swollen belly of the school’s owner.

“Hi Laura!” Miss Fullerton says with a grin as I sit down and straighten my pink dance tights. “Your family’s been busy this week then, I take it?”

“Ugh, I’m guessing you mean my brother?” I reply. “And yes, yes he has…”

“Yeah, THAT was a surprise when Alice showed him off to the rest of the girls,” Miss Fullerton says with a tired laugh. “Nearly went into labour then and there, heh!”

“Huh?” I ask. “Oh- god, the Alice thing…”

“Don’t tell me he’s been up to his other old tricks again?” Miss Fullerton asks.

“Only spending an entire weekend at my school on work experience,” I snort, making the tall blonde woman grimace.

“That sounds horrific,” Miss Fullerton grimaces. “My older sister’s a teacher, thank god I’d left school by the time she graduated!”

“He’s teaching PE to boys, so thankfully I didn’t encounter him in a lesson,” I say with an exasperated laugh. “And it’s hardly the worst thing to have happened at school this week…”

“Oh- god, Laura…” Miss Fullerton moans. “Please tell me you’re not being bullied again…”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” I whisper. “I- I kinda got a new boyfriend this week…”

“And- and he’s the worst thing that happened?” Miss Fullerton asks. “He sounds like a keeper…”

“Oh- don’t get me wrong,” I reply. “He’s tall, he’s sensitive, he’s funny and he’s REALLY fit… And today, he decided to give me a big, tight hug… from behind.”

“Eesh,” Miss Fullerton grimaces. “Obviously not THAT sensitive, then…”

“He’s a fifteen year old boy,” I shrug, making my teacher laugh.

“Yeah, I know a thing or two about those,” Miss Fullerton laughs. “Try having two younger brothers, THAT will teach you a thing or two about insensitivity!”

“…I’ll stick one younger sister, thanks!” I giggle.

“Good decision,” Miss Fullerton giggles as we watch Lily warm up for her class with the rest of the identically-dressed girls. “She’s really come on a lot the last few months, you know? Reckon you’re, like, her inspiration to improve.”

“Aww,” I sigh happily. “Isn’t that what big sisters are supposed to be?” Kinda like big brothers are supposed to be too… I think to myself.

"It's how I always tried to be," Miss Fullerton says softly. "Both to my brothers and to my, you know, 'sisters'. Gotta be fun, but protective at the same time... Speaking of which, are you sure you'll be okay to dance tonight? I can only imagine what that panic attack must've been like..."

"I'll be fine," I whisper. "Wouldn't be wearing a leotard if I wasn't!"

"Other than the fact that they're comfy and girly?" Miss Fullerton teases. "I'll let Mademoiselle Renou know you're feeling under the weather, see if she can go easy on you. Though as this IS Mademoiselle Renou we're talking about, I'm not making any promises!"

"...Understood," I say with a nod that makes the older woman laugh.

After half an hour filled with homework and occasional chat, I head to the school's changing room to stretch my clingy pink tights over my leotard, tie my hair back into the regulation severe bun and fasten my soft ballet slippers to my feet. By the time I finish getting ready by fixing the last few bobby pins in my hair, my friends have all started to arrive- and all of them have looks of extreme concern on their face.

"Are- are you okay, Laura?" Ashley- who is the first to arrive- asks. "We- well, I heard what happened, with you and Kain, and you weren't answer Facebook-"

"I'm fine," I sigh, interrupting the 14 year old girl.

"Are you sure?" Nicole asks. "People were REALLY concerned, and I don't just mean the six of us..."

"Really," I say softly, before my eyes dart around the room to make sure no one outside of my 'group' is listening. "Did, umm, did anyone... Did anyone see... My, umm, 'accident'?"

"'Accident’?” Ashley asks, making me breathe a sigh of relief- if anyone had scene, the entire school would've hard by now.

"...Never mind," I say, shaking my head. "Not important."

"So what are you going to do about Kain?" Megan asks, making me pause. "If you think about it, now you've got an excuse to dump him..."

"Why would I want to do that?" I retort. "Why does everyone think I'm only going out with Kain to get at my brother?"

"You, umm, you did say no to him a LOT," Megan reminds me.

"So maybe it was time I finally said 'yes'," I say, though secretly, I give Megan's suggestion serious consideration. Kain's relentless persistence has been a SERIOUS turn-off in the past, and part of me gave in just to shut him up... And as much as I hate to admit it, a part of me did agree to go out with him just to spite my brother. But there's another part of me who thinks that he's a fit, sweet, sensitive boy... But a boy insensitive enough not to realise that pretending to abduct me would be the worst idea ever. If I stay with him, the same thing could happen again, but if I dump him, especially after what happened with Scott, I could end up looking like a slut to everyone at school...

"...Enough talk of BOYS!" I snort, earning a playful cheer from Harriet. "We're here to dance, aren't we?"

"Hell yeah!" Ashley cheers, straightening her tights as we head through to the dance studio to begin our lesson.

An hour of dancing later, though, and I'm still no closer to answering my question than I was before. After arriving back home, I waste no time in stripping down to just my leotard, before grabbing my tablet computer and logging into Facebook, where I unsurprisingly have several messages waiting for me. Most of the messages are the girls asking me how I am- messages they mentioned they'd sent before ballet- but one makes my heart beat faster at the mere sight of the sender's name.

'Hey,' Kain's message reads. 'I am so so so so so so sorry about this afternoon, I completely forgot about you and your dad. I'm an idiot, and I'll understand if you didn't want to be my girlfriend anymore.' Wow, I think. Could I be any more let off the hook?

'Hey,' I reply, dithering for several minutes as I decide what to type next. My options are limitless- I could lay into him, I could ask for a break, whether it's permanent, temporary of temporary-that-becomes-permanent, I could mess with his feelings... Or I could forgive him. It WAS a genuine mistake, after all, and god knows I've made a few of my own in the past... And I'm not going to get a boyfriend as into me anytime soon. Everybody deserves a second chance...

'It's okay,' I eventually type. 'No real harm was done. Just as long as you never ever do that again.'

'I won't, I promise,' Kain types, leading to an awkward pause in the conversation. 'So what have you been doing all evening? Hope I didn't ruin what you were planning.' I roll my eyes- I guess continuing on as though nothing's happened is better than dwelling on it too much...

'No, just been at ballet,' I type, before giggling as I take a selfie of my leotard-clad body in my mirror and sending it to Kain, whose 'drooling' emoji tells me that he's still just as into me as he was 24 hours ago! 'This is look but don't touch, btw,' I type, sighing at Kain's 'embarrassed' emoji response.

'I won't, I promise,' Kain types. 'If I have to apologise for that forever, I will, I promise.'

'Like I said, no real harm was done,' I type. 'It's still a little hard for me to have physical contact with anyone, kinda why I started Latin dancing, to try to get used to it. Guess I have a lot to learn!'

'Not as much as me,' Kain types with a frowning emoji- though my response of a 'kissing' emoji quickly turns his frown upside down!

'Maybe we can learn together?' I ask, earning another grinning emoji from Kain- and another awkward pause in the conversation as Kain takes ages to type his next message.

'Are you doing anything tomorrow?' Kain types. 'Want to get a coffee?'

'Are you asking me on a date?' I reply, giggling at my teasing of the young man. 'Because the answer is yes.'

'Cool!' Kain types. 'You free at lunch?'

'Earlier suits me better,' I type. 'Around 10am. I usually hang out with my friends at the weekend.'

'Me too,' Kain types. '10am works for me. Costa near school?'

'See you there!' I type, giggling with excitement at the relationship renewed.

"Good news and bad news," I say as I walk down stairs, having covered my leotard with a short denim skirt. "The good news is that Kain and I are still boyfriend and girlfriend."

"...And the bad news?" Sean asks.

"Someone's going to have to chaperone a date tomorrow," I say with a smug grin. "Your rules, mum."

"They were," mum sighs. "But it was your idea that they patch things up, Ricky."

"Got plans with Alice," Ricky shrugs.

"At 10am?" I ask, making my brother sigh and roll his eyes.

Naturally, the date goes perfectly despite Ricky's reluctant presence. My choice of a short summer dress, 4" cork wedges and make-up to make me look a LOT older goes over extremely well with Kain- and his conscious decision to keep his hands to himself goes over extremely well with me. Well, until our extra long goodbye kiss, anyway!

...And even better than the date was the post-date discussion with my friends, all of whom are happy that I've chosen to stay with Kain. The happiest person of all, though, is me. The last week has been insane, to put it mildly- but I've come out of it in a better place than I've been for a very long time. I have a boyfriend who I know genuinely likes me for who I am. I have the best friends a girl could ever hope for. I have the best family ever- including, for the very first time, a proper father, and a little sister I would do anything for. And even though he is the biggest knob in the world, I have my big brother back in my life. And maybe even a celebrity sister-in-law if things work out!

And a few months from now, I'll turn sixteen, and I'll finally be allowed to take a full dose of oestrogen. I'll finally be a woman, and not just a girl. And while I won't be in any rush to lose my virginity immediately, I'll at least have a boyfriend who I know will wait for me. As he's almost six months younger than me, though, the question is whether or not I'll be willing and able to wait for him...

I let out a long, tired sigh as my alarm clock wakes me from a dreamless sleep. It’s been a long summer holiday, but the time has finally come to head back to school. The only difference is that today’s ‘first day of school’ will be my last ever.

As I pull on my soft cotton panties and comfortable lace-trimmed bra, followed by my opaque black tights, smooth cotton blouse and my short, stiff grey skirt, my mind is drawn back to the day four years ago when I wore this uniform. Well, not THIS uniform, as I’m over a foot taller now than I was when I started school. Not even this style of uniform, either- back when I was eleven, I wore the pleated skirt of the ‘junior’ girls, not the straight one of the ‘senior’ girls, and grey tights, not black ones. I also didn’t wear a bra either, as, like most girls, my body changed a lot between the ages of eleven and fifteen. Most teenagers’ bodies didn’t change quite as much as mine has, though…

Back in 2013, I was very much an ordinary eleven year old boy. Average height for my age, maybe a bit skinny... And very much flat-chested and, worse yet, in possession of male genitals. Sadly, I still possess those- but they are so small as to be insignificant, especially when my chest is sporting a pair of B cup breasts, my hips have a very feminine curve to them and my waist is nice and narrow thanks to years of gymnastics and dancing- and a carefully controlled diet, following my 'scare' a couple of years ago. Thankfully, ever since then, I've been able to get my 'urges' under control- though there are times when that is easier said than done.

Other than being a little taller than average (I’m just shy of 5’ 9”), I’m indistinguishable from any other girl- especially after I apply my modest make-up and tie my long blonde hair into a high ponytail. Sometimes I catch myself wondering what would have happened if my mum hadn’t come to me all those years ago and asked whether I’d rather be a boy or a girl, what my life would be like now, whether I’d ever have had the courage to come forward myself and become the girl I was always destined to be. However, there’s no sense in dwelling on what might have been- especially when what is is much, much better, and what’s to come promises to be even better than that!

Two and a bit months from now, I will turn sixteen years of age- one of the most significant birthdays of them all. For me, it’ll be significant for two important reasons- firstly, I’ll be prescribed full oestrogen, and secondly- and most significantly- I’ll legally be allowed to have sex- provided that the person I have it with is also sixteen or over, of course. And I won’t lie- it’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot over the summer.

Despite the initial ‘teething problems’, my relationship with Kain has only got stronger over the summer holiday. Every day that I didn’t spend with my friends, I spent with him, either in town, or going swimming, or seeing a movie... Naturally, all of our dates ended with a long kissing session, and toward the end of the summer, most of them started with one too! The more I get to know Kain, the more I realise what a kind, sweet and (most importantly of all) cute boy he is. Much to my surprise, my family are growing to like him as well- even Ricky, who isn’t outright hostile to Kain whenever he sees him, which is probably as much as I can expect from him!

Naturally, I have a smile on my face as I elegantly walk down the stairs to find my family eating breakfast. Four years ago, of course, I didn’t have a stepfather who’d be more of a father to me than my own so-called dad ever was, nor did I have a stepsister who worships the ground I walk on.

“Morning Laura!” Lily says with a nervous giggle.

“Hi Lily!” I say. “So… Beginning of the end, hehe! Looking forward to being the oldest in primary school?”

“A little,” Lily shrugs. “I’m really more looking forward to starting year 7 next year, though!”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “You’re gonna find it’s very different, but I reckon you’ll fit in great. The fact that the uniform’s a lot more grown-up definitely helps, hehe!”

“Speaking of which, young lady,” mum says as she hands me my morning cup of coffee, “aren’t you forgetting something on your uniform?”

“Oh yes,” I say with a smug smile, before withdrawing a shiny badge from my blazer pocket that has the letter ‘P’ inscribed on it. “Da da da-da!”

“It’s a sad day when the school decides that you’re mature enough to be a prefect,” mum teases, laughing as I respond with a very immature raspberry. “Seriously though, I AM proud of you. You’ve come a long way, these last four years. There were times when I worried, really worried that you’d end up hurt, or worse…”

“I know,” I whisper, biting my lip to try to keep tears out of my ears. “But, I turned out alright, didn’t I?”

“Certainly better than ‘Leon’ would’ve done,” mum whispers, making me giggle as I adjust my tights and brush a stray extra-long hair out of my face. “Just don’t take it easy now that the finish line is in sight. If anything, you need to work harder than ever this year.”

“I remember when I was in year 11,” Sean says. “Barely got ANY time to myself.”

“It’s not spending time by herself that I’m worried about,” mum says quietly. “After what happened last year with that Scott boy…”

“How many times do I need to apologise for that?” I sigh loudly. “I’m probably still paying the price at school for that rumour he started…”

“When you and Kain are both sixteen and you’ve shown that you can be mature about it, THEN I’ll leave it alone,” mum says, frowning as I sigh again. “And I’m pretty sure that ‘P’ stands for ‘prefect’ and not ‘pout’. Laura, you’re NOT going to have to wait forever. Just a few months. Heh, this time next year you’ll never have to wear that uniform again!”

“True,” I chuckle.

“Don’t be in too much of a hurry to grow up,” mum says, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “That goes for both of you, okay?”

“Yes, Michelle,” Lily says with a gentle giggle.

“Ah, no avoiding it, though,” Sean says. “And you never know, you might end up wearing that uniform for longer… If they bring back Waterloo Road and you’re cast in it!”

“I heard that Jamie-Lee Burke was an extra in that before she was famous,” Lily says, making us all giggle.

“…I’ll stick with Frozen for now,” I reply, before grabbing my school bag and heading down to mum’s car.

A short while later, the car pulls up outside the front gates of my school, where yet another change to the norm awaits me- instead of being greeted by the seven girls who have been my closest friends for the past few years, I’m instead greeted by eight girls- more than a couple of whom have their boyfriends hanging out nearby.

“Hey girlies!” I squeak, exchanging hugs with Ashley, Suriya, Nicole, Harriet, Mia and my best friend Megan, whose 6’ 2” form absolutely towers over the rest of us- especially the two newest members of our group. “Hi Bryony!” I say to Ashley’s nervous-looking sister, before turning to Nicole’s equally nervous-looking younger sister. “Hi Sabrina! Looking forward to your first day?”

“Yep!” Sabrina says, nervously fidgeting before following the rest of us into the school.

“You’ll be FINE,” I reassure the mousey-haired girl. “And if anyone DOES give you any problem, we’ll sort them out, right girls?”

“Too right!” Harriet cheers, before giggling as me, Suriya and Megan point to the ‘P’ badges on our lapels. “…Ah, right, you meant sort out THAT way, hehe! Teacher’s pets…” Harriet’s wink tells us that her teasing is meant good-naturedly, but she still nonetheless earns stuck out tongues from us three prefects.

“I’m surprised it’s just us three wearing these badges,” Suriya muses.

“I’m surprised you’re one of the three, the way you teased your sister about it last year!” Nicole says, giggling as Suriya once again sticks her tongue out in response.

“I’ve got a clean disciplinary record, I have good grades, why wouldn’t I want some extra privilege?” Suriya shrugs. “Okay, it’s extra responsibilities too, but Priya always said it wasn’t too much of a hassle.”

“How is she, anyway?” I ask. “First day of A-Levels, she’s got to be nervous, right?”

“It’s going to be weird without her constantly bossing us around,” Nicole giggles.

“She’ll be fine,” Suriya says. “Give her a week and she’ll be bossing all the college around, heh!” I let out a chuckle, before grinning widely as I see a familiar cute, lanky figure loom into view. I briefly excuse myself from the other girls before walking over to the tall boy and- after standing on tiptoes- give him a long, soft kiss on his lips that earns ‘oohs’ from all of my friends, especially when our lips briefly part and the tips of our tongues gently explore each other.

“I missed you,” I quietly coo.

“We only saw each other on Saturday!” Kain retorts, smiling as I place my hand in his much larger palm.

“Meh, that’s still two days too many,” I say, giggling as we head into form before pouting as we sit down at our usual desks and we’re forced to let go of each other’s hands.

“You really do fancy him, don’t you?” Nicole asks.

“I wouldn’t snog him if I didn’t,” I retort. “Just wish his birthday wasn’t until April…”

“Oh god, this again,” Suriya moans.

“What?” I protest. “So I want to lose my virginity, big deal…”

“Uhh- yeah, it kinda is!” Nicole snorts. “Take it from someone who knows…”

“And after what happened with Scott last year?” Harriet asks, making me frown.

“Scott was a mistake,” I concede. “But if we’re both sixteen, then where’s the issue?”

“The issue is with you,” Suriya says, making me roll my eyes. “You should want it because you both want it, not because you ‘want to lose your virginity’. Kain might not even be ready when he’s sixteen.”

“The law says he will be,” I retort. “The law says that if you’re fifteen years and 364 days old, you’re not ready, but sixteen years and no days, you are. And besides, it’s not like he can make me pregnant…”

“Girlies,” Harriet says forcefully. “From now on, how about this- ALL discussions inside school, the ‘S word’ is banned. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Suriya says.

“Agreed,” Nicole says, making me sigh loudly.

“…Okay, agreed,” I snort. “So what do we talk about, then?”

“Fashion,” Nicole says.

“Make-up, TV, films,” Harriet says.

“Ballet, gymnastics,” Suriya says. “The fact that SOMEONE will have to play Elsa in the school production, and someone will also have to be the captain of the cheerleading club, and I know for a fact you want both of those…”

“…Yes, yes, okay,” I say, my pout making way for a giggle.

“AND we have a prom at the end of the year,” Nicole says smugly. “I realise that might be kinda S-word related, but we can still talk about prom dresses, right?”

“Hell yeah we can!” Suriya cheers.

“You gonna wear a sari, like your sister?” Harriet asks. “She looked SO gorgeous in her prom photos…”

“I might,” Suriya shrugs. “Depends on whether I see another, cuter dress! I am going to be a PRINCESS at my prom!”

“A princess, or a rajkumari?” Nicole asks, earning a mass giggle as Mr. Sheldon arrives to start the form session.

After the extended form session, our first ‘real’ lesson of the year is PE, but as none of us have our PE kits with us (as we obviously didn’t know our timetables before today), we instead head to the gymnasium in our regular uniforms, where we sign up for the various school teams. Naturally, Suriya, Nicole and I once again sign up for the gymnastics team and are issued with our club leotards, while Mia and Megan (who would normally be in a different PE group than us but as no one has their kit today, are all in one large group) sign up for the diving and netball teams respectively.

However, virtually all of my attention is focussed on the other side of the gymnasium, where the boys are signing up for their teams, and several of them- including one very tall boy I’m very familiar with- are messing around practising their basketball skills. Naturally, Kain doesn’t interrupt his game to come over and talk to me- he is a BOY, after all- but when he sees me watching he does flash a smile that leaves me giggling uncontrollably.

“Laura…” Suriya says, an angry tone to her voice and a scowl on her face.

“What?” I protest. “You say no TALKING about boys. Didn’t say anything about not ogling them?” I smile smugly as my Indian friend dramatically rolls her eyes, before giggling and dragging me away from the boys’ basketball game. “Okay, Priya would be proud of your bossiness!”

“I’m not being bossy,” Suriya retorts. “I’m doing my job as a prefect, bringing a misbehaving girl back in line!”

“So am I,” I shrug. “I’m making sure the boys don’t misbehave.”

“Well you can do that from over here!” Suriya says between fits of giggles. “Surprised you’re not more excited by the new leotard, I mean, we’re actually getting a mesh panel in it for the first time ever! Okay, so it’s in the shoulders only, but still, you know?”

“It’s cute,” I shrug. “But Kain is cuter, hehe! Besides, I’ve worn, like, hundreds of leotards before. And don’t you dare say that I’ve had hundreds of boyfriends!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Suriya laughs. “Especially not when I’m trying to get over Laura White NOT being excited by a new leotard! You, the girl who actually spent a whole evening making a YouTube video of your entire leotard collection?”

“I said it’s cute,” I say defensively, before sighing. “…Okay, yes, three years ago, I’d have been excited by it. But- but it really has become everyday, you know? First time I wore this uniform four years ago I was excited literally all day just to be able to wear it. Now I barely even notice it.”

“Ah,” Suriya says. “So because you don’t get a ‘kick’ out of the clothes anymore, you need something even girlier, and what could be girlier than having a hot guy shove his- tongue, hehe! Down your throat?”

“Ex-actly,” I say, grinning as I dramatically straighten my skirt and my tights. “Though don’t get me wrong, I still LOVE this.”

“And this?” Suriya asks, pulling her new leotard out of her bag to show me.

“You really need to ask?” I reply with a smug grin that I maintain for all of three seconds before bursting into a fit of giggles with my friend.

The giggles last all the way into break, which we spend at our usual table- though the table has become a little cramped now that there are nine of us sat around it! The atmosphere at the table is also unusually tense as me and Suriya approach and are greeted by a stern, almost angry stare from Harriet.

“Girlies,” the ginger girl says in an authoritative voice, “from now on, the topics of BOYS is not, I repeat NOT to be discussed at this table under any circumstances! For two reasons: one, we have younger kids with us now, and two, because some of us are a little too obsessed for their own good!”

“…FINE,” I say, playfully pouting at Harriet. “Then we’re not discussing GIRLS either!”

“How can we not discuss girls when we ARE all girls?” Bryony asks, making me blush and roll my eyes as my friends all giggle at my expense.

“Ugh, FINE!” I say. “No B-words and no S-words from now on, promise!”

“Good!” The other girls- bryony and Sabrina included- all cheer.

“So…” Suriya coos. “Anyone at this table NOT following Strictly this year?”

“Well, duh!” Mia giggles. “LITERALLY the only good thing about September. You go back to school, but you get a new series of Strictly too!”

“Hey,” Sabrina protests. “September’s not THAT bad, my birthday’s in it!”

“Next week, in fact!” Nicole giggles, causing her sister to blush.

“Aww, SO cool!” Ashley sighs. “Got a big party planned?”

“Probably just having a few friends round,” Sabrina shrugs. “Nothing big.”

“Unlike the six girls at this table who’ll be turning sixteen in the next twelve months…” Ashley teases, a sly grin spreading across her face. “Starting with you, MISS White.”

“Yeah!” Mia cheers. “You’re up first- well, apart from Sabrina, hehe! So… Anything special planned for what will DEFINITELY be the sweetest sweet sixteen ever?”

“Until mine, anyway!” Harriet- whose birthday is next after mine- chuckles.

“I thought Laura wasn’t supposed to talk about boys or the S-word?” Bryony asks, making her older sister’s eyes go wide.

“And I thought you were too young to know about that?” Ashley scolds the eleven year old girl.

“We did sex education in primary school,” Bryony shrugs.

“To be fair, I’m pretty sure we did too,” I say, smiling sympathetically as Megan nods in agreement.

“So did I,” Harriet says. “And looking back I’m pretty sure it was all about heterosexual stuff, nothing-“

“Girlies,” I sigh. “I thought the ban on talking about the S-word applied to ALL of us, not just me?” I smile smugly as the other eight girls all pause, unsure how to respond.

“So, Strictly then?” Ashley asks.

“One S-word we CAN talk about, hehe!” Nicole giggles. “Reckon those sisters from Constellation will DEFINITELY get to the final.”

“Constellation must be desperate for publicity, considering how the REAL Angels are obliterating them on social media numbers,” Suriya chuckles.

“Hell, Nikki Thomas has more Instagram followers than most of them!” Ashley says as the table descends into a whirlwind of feminine gossiping and giggling- a whirlwind I struggle to peel myself away from when the bell rings to start our next lesson.

Fortunately, the next lesson is Spanish, which makes it a little easier- especially as it’s the only class I’m in that also has my tall, cute boyfriend in it!

“Hey bae!” I giggle, linking fingers with Kain as we head into the class. “Just so you know, the other GIRLS have banned me from talking about you at break and lunch, ugh.”

“…’About’ me, but not ‘to’ me?” Kain asks hesitantly, earning a giggle in response.

“That’s what they said,” I giggle, giving Kain a quick kiss before we’re forced to part and head to my usual table with Nicole. Fortunately, before I’m given yet another telling off, Mrs. Ambrose arrives to begin the lesson, and my brief liaison is soon forgotten about. Well, up until I catch my boyfriend staring at my legs, anyway!

Naturally, I treat Kain to another kiss as we leave class and begin lunch. Rather than head to my usual table, though, I head to one of the classrooms on the ground floor of the school, where I find Suriya, Megan, and 21 other pupils from my year- all of whom, like me and my friends, have badges with the letter ‘P’ on their lapels.

“Okay everyone,” Mr. McCleland, the head of year 11, says as we all take our seats in the classroom. “Think you’re all here. As you know, as we’ve done every year, we’ve selected 12 boys and 12 girls from the new year 11, all of whom we consider exceptional in one way or another, to act as prefects. In basic, your responsibility will be to act as a positive role model for the rest of the school, to ensure the safety of the younger pupils- but not at the expense of your own safety- and to assist teachers and lunchtime supervisors where necessary. It’s a lot of work, but it comes with a lot of privilege as well. When you’re applying for college or university, or even for some jobs, this is something you can put on your CV that will get you a LOT of notice. And, of course, you will be in charge of organising the school prom at the end of the year!” Naturally, this last bit creates a LOT of excitement with us girls!

“Thought that would get your attention,” Mr. McCleland says with a chuckle. “There’ll be prefect meetings every Monday afternoon in this room, but first, we need to decide who’ll be this year’s head boy and head girl, who will of course have the additional duty of chairing these meeting in case I’m not here. You’re not allowed to put yourself forward for head boy or girl, otherwise we’d have 24 candidates for each role! So now, I want you to nominate who you want for head boy and head girl. All nominations must be seconded, then we’ll vote by secret ballot.”

“I want to nominate Kai for head boy,” one of the boys, a member of the football team, says.

“Seconded,” another of the boys says.

“One nomination for head boy,” Mr. McCleland says, writing Kai’s name on the whiteboard.

“I want to nominate Laura for head BOY,” one of the other boys says with a smug voice, and it actually takes me a second to realise what he said before my jaw drops and an awkward silence fills the room.

“…Would you like to repeat that, Dean?” Mr. McCleland asks the fifteen year old boy, who suddenly looks a lot less self-confident.

“Umm…” Dean mumbles under the teacher’s fierce gaze.

“I didn’t think so,” Mr. McCleland growls. “Thank you for your time, Dean. You’re fired.”

“Wh- what?” Dean protests.

“Prefects are supposed to be the most mature, most responsible pupils in the school,” Mr. McCleland explains. “What you just said clearly shows that you’re not up to the task. Get out before I give you a detention too.” I bite my lip as the room is filled with quiet sniggers as Dean leaves. Even though I consciously know that the laughter is directed toward the disgraced boy, there’s a part of me that still feels like some of it is directed toward me, causing me heart to sink- and my stomach to churn…

“I want to nominate Laura for head GIRL,” Megan says defiantly.

“Seconded,” Suriya says.

“Seconded!” Almost a dozen other voices in the room call out, each one flashing me a sympathetic, supportive smile.

“W- wow,” I mouth. “Umm, thanks but no thanks, though.”

“Are- are you sure, Laura?” Mr. McCleland- who’s already written ‘La’ on the board- asks.

“I’m sure,” I sigh. “It- it’d just make me even more of a target than I already am, I mean, if a prefect can think it’s funny to make fun of me like that- you know?”

“If you’re sure,” Mr. McCleland says, erasing my name from the whiteboard. “We still need a nomination for head girl, though.”

“I nominate Megan,” I say, smiling supportively at my best friend.

“Seconded!” Suriya cheers.

“…Sure, why not?” Megan giggles, before mouthing a silent ‘thank you’ at me.

Sure enough, at the end of the lunch period, Megan walks out of the classroom holding a shiny gold-coloured badge with the words ‘head girl’ printed on it. Another girl was nominated, but with my ‘endorsement’, Megan won the vote almost unanimously.

“All hail Queen Megan!” Suriya teases, making our tall friend blush bright red. “Seriously, Priya is going to be SO jealous, she only made deputy head girl last year!”

“I guess,” Megan nervously laughs as she plays with her new badge. “Kinda feel bad though… This really should’ve been yours.”

“Oh- trust me, it shouldn’t!” I laugh. “Seriously, I meant what I said in there. Four years and you’d have thought people would get used to the idea of me being a girl, but still- ugh, some people…”

“Well Dean got what he deserved,” Suriya snorts. “Love to be a fly on the wall when he tells his parents WHY he’s not a prefect anymore, heh!”

“Hell, they might agree with him,” I shrug. “Ugh, I- I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Can we just get to our next class, please?”

“Of course,” Megan whispers, leading us toward our next class. Suriya, however, isn’t so keen to follow.

“Really?” The petite Indian girl asks, her arms crossed. “You’re not going to show off that shiny gold badge to the others?”

“…Tomorrow morning,” Megan says with a confident, almost smug grin. “I haven’t been officially announced yet, and I kinda want to surprise everyone. Especially George, hehe! Though I still reckon I’m just, you know, keeping this badge warm for you.”

“Oh- no. DEFINITE no,” I reply. “I don’t want to hear any more about this. That badge is all yours, and you more than earned it! Besides, it’s not like I can’t, say, go for captain of the cheer team…”

“If you say so,” Megan shrugs. “…You utter, 100% GIRL!” The three of us all giggle happily as we head toward our last class of the day.

Naturally, on my way out of school at the end of the day, I exchange hugs with my friends and a long kiss with my boyfriend before getting in my mum’s car, but as my lips meet Kain’s, I can’t help but wonder how much of the school is laughing at me, just as Dean laughed at me this afternoon- or worse yet, how much of the school is laughing at Kain…

“Hi Laura!” Mum says as I elegantly slide onto the passenger seat of her car. “Good day?”

“…Been better, been worse,” I shrug. “Megan got made head girl today!”

“Ah, had a feeling she might!” Mum chuckles. “Kinda surprised you didn’t go for that yourself, actually, or did you, Megan and Suri have, like, a pact as to which one of you would put themselves forward?”

“No, no pact,” I reply. “And I was actually nominated for head girl, but, you know, didn’t go for it. I withdrew, like.”

“Why wouldn’t you want to be head girl, Laura?” Lily asks me from the back seat of the car, prompting a long, loud sigh from me.

“…Because immediately before I was nominated for head girl, I was nominated for head BOY,” I say, earning a scowl from my mother.

“For god’s sake,” mum snorts. “And this was by one of the prefects?”

“EX-prefects,” I clarify.

“Good,” mum says firmly. “Four years, you’d have thought they’d have got the message by now?”

“This isn’t anything I haven’t said myself,” I sigh. “It’s something I’m just going to have to deal with, I guess. I remember reading Jamie-Lee Burke’s blog earlier in the year, how that bridal shop refused to serve her, and she was SIX years into her transition. She was even three years post-op at that point.”

“That just means the bridal shop was as stupid as that boy,” Lily says, earning smiles from me and my mum.

“…Not going to tell her off for calling someone stupid?” I ask mum, who simply chuckles in response.

“Why would I?” My mother replies. “She’s not wrong, after all…”

After arriving back home and changing into a very comfortable girly t-shirt and short denim skirt, I eat my dinner, finish my homework before grabbing my tablet computer from my room and parking myself on the sofa in the living room. Mum and Sean are out on a date tonight, which means that someone has to look after Lily, and as I’m almost sixteen- and, as Sean was quick to point out, in a position of responsibility at school- I get that job. And it’s not like I mind it, after all- I like Lily, she’s not a troublemaker (especially as she spends all evening playing videogames) and most importantly of all, I get extra pocket money for it!

As Lily engrosses herself in Sonic the Hedgehog, I open up Facebook messenger on my iPad, and whilst I’m immediately drawn into a group chat with the girls- Megan’s news having quickly become widespread knowledge- I only give it a little bit of my attention as I instead scroll down to my boyfriend’s profile and start a new conversation with him.

‘Hey bae,’ I type, followed by several ‘kissing’ emojis.

‘Hey sexy,’ Kain replies. ‘What you up to tonight?’

‘Just babysitting my stepsister,’ I reply.

‘Could be worse, could be your brother babysitting,’ Kain retorts, earning a ‘laughing’ emoji in response.

‘He’s too busy with his celebrity girlfriend, fortunately,’ I reply. ‘Did you hear about Megan getting head girl?’

‘Cool,’ Kain replies, obviously not interested about my friend. ‘You didn’t want to be head girl then?’

‘Long story,’ I type with a ‘frowning’ emoji that immediately gets a ‘hugging’ one in response. ‘You know Dean Barton?’

‘Yeah, think he’s on the school cricket team,’ Kain replies.

‘He nominated me for head BOY,’ I explain. ‘Kinda put me off going for head girl, I don’t need that hassle all year.’

‘Barton’s a knobhead,’ Kain types. ‘No idea how he even became a prefect, he’s always dicking about in class, talking shit about teachers.’

‘Let me guess- he doesn’t just talk shit about teachers?’ I type- the time it took for Kain to respond was a dead giveaway that he’d typed and deleted a different message.

‘Like I said, he’s a knobhead,’ Kain replies.

‘It can’t be nice for you, though,’ I type. ‘I sometimes worry that you’re having a hard time being the boyfriend of ‘the tranny’.’

‘Whatever,’ Kain types with a smiling emoji.

‘Seriously though,’ I type. ‘If you’ve been bullied because of me, I don’t want to be kept in the dark about it.’

‘I don’t listen to what idiots say,’ Kain defiantly replies. ‘So a few people have laughed at me, called me ‘gay’. What. Ever.’

‘You shouldn’t have to go through that,’ I type.

‘You’ve gone through a million times worse,’ Kain retorts, and this time, I have no response.

‘Maybe,’ I type. ‘But that doesn’t mean that either of us should have to put up with this [s**t].’

‘I’ll always have your back,’ Kain types. ‘Well when I’m legally allowed to anyway.’ Naturally, this results in an exchange of ‘kissing’, ‘heart’ and ‘sticking out tongue’ emojis that lasts almost a minute!

‘I knew what you mean,’ I type with a ‘winking’ emoji. ‘I’ve got your back too, me and the other girls. Reckon there’ll be a lot of people jealous of one of our gang getting head girl!’

‘Might surprise you to learn a lot of the basketball team are jealous of me going out with you,’ Kain types, bringing a smug smile to my lips.

‘Really?’ I ask with another winking emoji.

‘Really,’ my boyfriend replies. ‘I mean, you’re tall, skinny, got a great body, you’re a cheerleader and a dancer. If you weren’t transgendered, every guy in the school would fancy you.’

‘Thanks, I think,’ I reply.

‘What I mean is that every guy SHOULD fancy you,’ Kain types.

‘I know what you mean,’ I reply with a ‘winking’ emoji. ‘And I agree, but that might be my overinflated ego speaking!’

‘To be fair any girl who looks like you is entitled to have an overinflated ego,’ Kain types with a ‘kissing’ emoji that I happily reciprocate. 'Fwiw pretty much everyone on the basketball team's jealous of me for going out with you.'

'Thanks bae,' I reply with several 'kissing' emojis. 'Really?'

'Seriously,' Kain types. 'Especially when you show up to games in your cheerleader costume!'

'UNIFORM!' I type, followed by several 'angry' emojis that Kain quickly replies to with a 'winking' one.

"You have to admit it is a bit costume-y,' Kain types, earning a 'rolling eyes' emoji in response.

'So's your basketball COSTUME,' I retort.

'Touché,' Kain types with another 'winking' emoji. 'If you want to see real cheerleader cost- uniforms, my dad's got tickets for the NFL game at Wembley in September, if you want to come along?'

'American football?' I type. 'Seriously? THAT's your idea of a date?'

'You took me to a chick flick over the summer,' Kain retorts with a 'sticking out tongue' emoji. 'And like I said, there'll be pro cheerleaders there, you could say you're going to get some tips?'

'Sure, suppose it could be fun,' I type. In all honesty, it DOES sound like fun, but it's not an idea I want rooted in my boyfriend's head!

'It's a date,' Kain types with a 'kissing' emoji of his own. ‘Got to go now, got to get homework done. Talk tomorrow?’

‘Of course,’ I type followed by a string of ‘kissing’ emojis that last until Kain goes offline.

With my boyfriend gone, and Lily still engrossed in her videogame, I turn my attention back to the group chat, which is naturally centred around our new head girl.

‘We should SO dress you up as a Queen for your birthday!’ Nicole types, earning a ‘blushing’ emoji from my best friend. ‘Big fancy dress, a tiara!’

‘So would we be princesses or ladies in waiting?’ I ask with a ‘winking’ emoji.

‘Ooh, look who’s FINALLY been able to drag herself away from her boyfriend!’ Harriet types with a ‘sticking out tongue’ emoji that makes me sigh. Obviously my absence was more obvious than I thought…

‘Sisters before misters!’ Ashley types, earning an ‘eye rolling’ emoji in reply.

‘So we were chatting, whatever,’ I type. ‘I’m now allowed to talk about him at school, got to get my dose of Kain goodness somehow, haven’t I?’

‘Thought you were going to OVERdose on him in PE,’ Suriya types with a ‘sticking out tongue’ emoji.

‘Bite me,’ I type with a ‘sticking out tongue’ emoji of my own. ‘If you must know, I messaged him coz of what happened in the prefect meeting with Dean. Wanted to know if people have been picking on him.’

‘And have they?’ Nicole asks.

‘Couldn’t tell,’ I type. ‘If they have he’s not saying, reckon he’s trying to act all macho and not let it get to him, that sort of thing.’

‘You know what my normal reaction would be to macho idiots,’ Harriet types. ‘But if he’s doing it for your benefit than fair enough.’

‘He IS cool,’ I type. ‘Definitely cooler than any of my other ex-boyfriends.’

‘Hey!’ Ashley protests with a ‘sticking out tongue’ emoji of her own.

‘Laura said ex BOYfriends, MISS Moore!’ Mia types, making me giggle as the two girls exchange ‘hugging’ emojis.

‘And speaking of,’ Suriya types, ‘that’s more than enough discussion of the B-word for tonight!’ I giggle and roll my eyes as the other girls reply with ‘cheering’ emojis.

‘So answer my question, then,’ I type. ‘Princesses or ladies in waiting?’

‘Princesses, duh,’ Nicole types with a ‘winking’ emoji. ‘Just our dresses won’t be as elaborate as QUEEN Megan’s!’

As with the other girls, I reply with a ‘laughing’ emoji, but as the chat goes on, I can’t help but wonder whether or not Kain really is holding anything back, whether he’s been bullied because of his association with me. Then again, in our first year at school, Megan often said she was bullied because of her association with me, and as she has just been made head girl, maybe attitudes ARE changing. It may be too little, too late, but it is at least better than nothing. And I always have the comfort of knowing that my real friends will never abandon me or turn on me- and nor will Kain.

I wake up on the second day of my final year at school with a smile on my face, which only widens when I pull on a comfortable cotton bra and thong followed by the rest of my uniform. As always, I apply just as much make-up as I think I can get away with, but today, I include a little extra lip gloss- though it’s not like my mouth needs to be made more appealing to some people!

Naturally, when we arrive at school, everyone’s attention is focussed on our new ‘Queen’, whose smug smile from yesterday has faded to be replaced by a very nervous-looking grin. Instead of form, we head to a special assembly today (before which I make sure my lip gloss is ‘put to good use’, much to my friends’ irritation) where we prefects are called up on stage and ‘presented’ to the rest of our year, Mr. McCleland explaining our responsibilities just as he had to us yesterday afternoon. At the end of the assembly, Megan and the head boy are formally presented with their special gold-coloured badges (the one she was given yesterday being just a spare badge).

Obviously, I’m beaming with pride as my best friend is honoured in this way, though I still can’t shake from my mind what Dean did yesterday- and as I gaze out at the crowd in the assembly, there are more than a few frowns that bring to mind something my newest friend told me last year. As the assembly ends and we head to our first class for the day, I make a point of seeking out the raven-haired girl.

“Hey Mia,” I say, interrupting my friend as she grabs her bag and adjusts her skirt.

“Hey, Princess Prefect!” Mia teases, earning giggles from our other non-prefect friends. “’Sup?”

“Oh- it’s umm, nothing that can’t wait until break,” I mumble, struggling to find the right way to word my question.

“Nah, we’ve got a few minutes before our next class,” Mia says. “It has to be SOMETHING, or you wouldn’t have asked, right?”

“It- gah,” I sigh. “It’s about what you said last year.”

“I said a lot of things last year,” Mia giggles.

“When we started hanging out,” I say, quickly lowering the pale-skinned girl’s mood.

“…Oh, THAT,” Mia says. “Just- just ignore that, I was jealous, I thought I could be friends with Sam…”

“Yeah, but a lot of people will have agreed with you,” I say, making my friend suddenly look VERY guilty. “And now that one of our ‘clique’ is head girl…”

“Honestly, you’re worrying about nothing,” Mia says. “The other quote-unquote cliques will just have to get over themselves.”

“I don’t really like the thought that we ARE a clique though, you know?” I say. “I mean, I meant what I said last year, that we’re just a group of girls hanging out together, you know?”

“Which is kinda also known as a ‘clique’,” Mia laughs. “Seriously, Laura, where’s this coming from anyway?”

“…Yesterday at the prefect’s meeting,” I sigh, making Mia bite her lip.

“Yeah…” the dark haired girl grimaces. “Megan kinda- kinda told us about what Dean did- which totally sucks, by the way. She also told me that if you hadn’t passed it up, YOU’D be head girl right now.”

“Getting even more angry stares from the other girls in the year?” I ask.

“What. Ever!” Mia laughs. “The people who matter like you. And before you say anything as I know you’re thinking it, no, with me it WASN’T a case of ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em’.”

“…I wasn’t thinking that,” I mumble. “Okay, maybe once or twice, but only at the start-“

“I hang out with you guys because an awesome GIRL once sent me a message saying ‘I want to be your friend, why not hang out with us?’,” Mia says, causing me to giggle and bite my lip to keep tears from forming in my eyes, before sighing loudly and giving the black-haired girl a long, tight hug. “The fact that you sometimes hang out with celebrities kinda helps too, hehe!”

“Definitely,” I giggle, before breaking the hug and heading to my first lesson of the day.

With Mia’s reassurance, I go through the morning with a newfound confidence. Sure, I’ve had four years of teasing, four years of whispers and giggles behind my back, but what my friend said was 100% true- the people who matter like me. Sometimes I need reminding of this, and I’m eternally grateful that I have friends who will remind me when necessary.

After a morning break spent supervising the younger children and a third lesson spent trying to suppress my boredom at the topic (physics), I quickly eat my lunch before heading back toward the school’s main hall for the first meeting of the year of the school’s drama club. In previous years, the club didn’t start meeting until November time, but now that we’re in year 11, we have to attend from the start of the school year, as it’s the year 11 students who’ll be playing the lead role in the annual school production!

“Let it go, let it go…” Suriya playfully sings as we walk into the sparsely-populated hall.

“Hey,” Nicole protests. “That’s Elsa’s song, not Anna’s! Unless you’ve changed your mind about who you’re auditioning for…”

“No, but ‘Let it Go’ has a billion hits on YouTube, and ‘Love is an Open Door’ doesn’t,” Suriya retorts. “Besides, as if I’d stand a chance, anyway! Doubt the world’s ready for an Indian Elsa, heh.” I start to blush as my friends start to playfully nudge me.

“But they ARE ready for a transgendered Elsa?” I ask.

“YES!” Suriya, Nicole and Harriet all cheer, making me blush.

“If you’re good enough, you’re girl enough,” Nicole says with a smug grin. “Just like you, Suri- if you’re good enough, you’re white and blonde enough!”

“Not that I’d ever want to be white and blonde!” Suriya says with a smug grin as she plays with her long, jet-black tresses. “No offence, Laura.”

“None taken,” I shrug. “Just as long as you leave Elsa to me, hehe!”

“The world will just have to settle for an Indian Anna!” Suriya giggles. “Besides, after yesterday, no one deserves the role of Elsa more than you!”

“Oh- can we PLEASE try to put that behind us?” I sigh.

“Sure, sure,” Suriya says as we grab the carefully-printed scripts from the table and begin rehearsing scenes with each other. Naturally, any and all of Elsa’s lines are performed by me, but as I say the words, I can’t help but picture myself up on stage, wearing the iconic light blue dress… And having the angry stares of everyone in my year fixated on me.

I’m no stranger to performing on stage, of course, whether it’s in a play, in a ballet recital, or even something like a gymnastics competition. I know countless tricks to avoid stage fright- but this is no ordinary case of stage fright when you KNOW that everyone staring at you disapproves of you merely existing. There’s a part of me that wonders whether or not I should audition for the part of Elsa…

Naturally, of course, my friends are not just confident, they’re certain that I’ll be playing that role come the end of the year, meaning that as we head to our final lesson, I’m serenaded with the tune of ‘Let It Go’- and even when I arrive at ballet class later in the evening, my friends are all still humming that tune, making me roll my eyes as I change into my pink ballet tights and my black tank leotard.

“Maybe we should persuade Mademoiselle Renou to do a Frozen-themed ballet performance,” Nicole teases, making me groan in frustration as my friends all giggle.

“God, I had enough of that when I went to Disneyland last month!” Ashley chuckles.

“Really?” Harriet teases as she ties her long ginger hair into a tight, severe bun. “You REALLY had too much Disney?”

“…Nah,” Ashley says, before breaking down in yet another fit of giggles.

“Well I’m DEFINITELY going for Anna if Mademoiselle Renou does put on the performance!” Suriya says confidently.

“I’ll probably have to go for Marshmallow, then!” Megan giggles, standing up straight and emphasising her thirteen inch height advantage over the Indian girl.

“Nah,” Nicole giggles. “You could play the original queen, that’d be appropriate, under the circumstances!”

“Circumstances?” Mademoiselle Renou asks as she walks past. “What ‘circumstances’ are these?” The seven of us bite our lip as the strict Frenchwoman regards us with a stern stare.

“I- I may have been made head girl at school,” Megan mumbles.

“Oh, c’est magnifique!” Mademoiselle Renou giggles. “If I had known sooner, I would have had our special birthday tutu adjusted for your fit!”

“…It’s not THAT big a deal,” Megan mumbles.

“Nonsense!” Mademoiselle Renou laughs. “My sister was the president of the girls at school and she celebrated for a week! Then again, Marie would!”

“Yeah… I’m not really a ‘centre of attention’ kind of person,” Megan grimaces. “Especially not as the school also needs to pick a captain for the cheerleading squad, the gymnastics team, AND who’s going to play the lead role in the school production!” I dramatically roll my eyes as Megan punctuates the end of her sentence by pointing her finger straight toward me.

“Okay,” I sigh. “First, Anna’s the lead role, not Elsa. Second, there’s no guarantee I’ll get the part. Third… I’m not even sure I’m going to go for it.”

“Oh- what?” Suriya spits. "Why, exactly?"

"It- ugh," I sigh. "It's gonna be really fun singing 'Let It Go' with an entire audience trying to kill you with their stares."

"Oh, get over yourself already!" Harriet moans, earning an angry stare from me. "Surely those angry stares are MORE reason to put yourself up there?"

"And I do not recall any 'angry' stares when you performed la soixante-troisieme papillon last December," Mademoiselle Renou says with a confident smile. "If there had been, I would have thrown them out by their hair!"

"Next time I see Dean I'm going to kick him in the balls, even if it's just to shut YOU up!" Suriya laughs.

"Who is 'Dean'?" Mademoiselle Renou asks, leading to yet another retelling of the story of yesterday afternoon.

"...And if that can happen from a supposed prefect," I sigh.

"You look closer at the word 'supposed'," Mademoiselle Renou says softly. "He is not your friend. We are. All of us. And if I have to buy every ticket for your production so that you will only have friendly faces in the crowd, I will!"

"...Thanks," I mumble.

"And if I have to throw people out by their hair, I will!" Harriet teases, giggling as Mademoiselle Renou gives her a playful shove.

"Now come on," the Frenchwoman urges. "Lesson starts now! Oh, but before I do, Suriya, please tell your sister that she can start our advanced adult class next week, an opening has become available!"

"Pri- Priya's joining the adult class?" Suriya asks. "I thought she dropped ballet?"

"And I thought she loved it," Mademoiselle Renou shrugs. "I spoke to her when we played football at Acton Rovers last month, she admitted she missed the class but felt too old for it, I suggested the adult class, she agreed. Especially as we will have an adult class performance next year!"

"Huh, I always thought Priya hated the idea of performing on stage," I muse as I head toward the barre.

"And I thought you loved it," Mademoiselle Renou says, briefly making me pause before we begin the lesson.

Naturally, an hour of dancing managed to ease my anxieties, especially when Miss Fullerton shows up at the end of the class with her super-cute week old daughter Maria, which we all take turns fawning over (especially Mademoiselle Renou!).

As I head home, I try to put the whole 'Dean' thing to the back of my mind, though I make a note of it in my 'mood diary' for tomorrow's meeting with Dr Williamson- it's definitely the sort of thing she'll want to hear about, and the sort of thing she'll no doubt have advice about- and if she thinks I should go for Elsa then I really won't have any reason not to- and I DO want the role. I DO want to act and sing on stage... But I always want people to love my acting and my singing...

The following day, I arrive at school as usual and am greeted by my friends (and, of course, my boyfriend), all of whom tease me by singing 'Let it Go' all through the first few lessons and first break, and even into lunch- which I begin in my 'private changing room' of the girls' toilets, where I change into my brand new gymnastics team leotard, alongside Ashley, Suriya, Nicole, and for the first time ever, Nicole's sister Sabrina.

"Looking forward to your first gymnastics club meet?" I ask the eleven year old girl as she stretches her leotard over her skinny frame.

"I was in my primary school's gymnastics team," Sabrina explains. "Which is why I'm starting the club now instead of November with the other clubs."

"Just like her big sister did!" Nicole giggles as she gives her sister a playful cuddle.

"Any chance of Bryony joining us?" I ask Ashley, who shrugs in response.

"Maybe," my fellow T-girl replies. "She's never done gymnastics seriously before- but then again, neither did I! And Bryony IS a good dancer. Maybe not as, you know, 'committed' as Cassie is, but she's still good at it."

"Mademoiselle Renou reckons me and Bryony could get our pointe shoes by March!" Sabrina exclaims. "I can't wait to dance on stage. AND take part in gymnastics competitions, hehe!"

"Well I'm sure you'll be great at both!" Suriya says, earning a giggle from the smaller girl as the five of us head up to the gymnasium in our matching uniforms.

As I watch Sabrina go through her stretches and her tumbles so that Miss Edwards can assess her strengths and weaknesses, I can't help but be impressed by her dedication to the sport, throwing herself into it without a care for what other people might think or say... As young as she is, I could maybe learn a thing or two from her. Though as I pull my uniform back on over my leotard, the 'P' badge on my blazer reminds me that maybe she should be the one learning from me, rather than the other way round.

After school ends, mum takes me straight to Dr Williamson's office, where the middle-aged counsellor greets me as always with a smile and a handshake.

"Hello Laura!" Dr Williamson says. "Big week this week, the first week of year eleven..."

"Ugh, trust me, I've noticed!" I giggle, handing over my mood diary and my food diary before sitting down and crossing one leg tightly over the other. "Already bombarded with homework, started training for this year's gymnastics competition today..."

"And I see you've got a familiar badge on your shoulder," Dr Williamson says, making me blush as I fiddle with my lapel. "I'm guessing the 'p' stands for prefect?"

"Yep!" I giggle. "My grades and my behaviour were good enough, I applied, they said yes!"

"I remember being a prefect when I was at school," Dr Williamson says with a proud grin. "That badge got me a lot of respect from my peers. I was even made head girl in sixth form- do they still have that in your school? Or because your school is only 11-16 do they-"

"No, no, they have head boy and head girl," I say, letting out a quiet sigh that immediately gets picked up on.

"I'm guessing you put yourself forward for head girl, but something happened?" Dr Williamson asks in a sympathetic voice.

"Sort of," I sigh. "The prefects had to nominate another person for head boy or girl, and one the boys- one of the boys nominated me for head BOY."

"Oh- Laura, I am so sorry to hear that," Dr Williamson says. "Obviously this has been preying on your mind since it happened?"

"Big time," I say. "I mean, I'm used to idiots at school. I've had to deal with them since day one. But this- ugh. Four years on you'd think people would be used to me by now, especially ones supposedly mature enough to be a prefect."

"I think the word you need to focus on there is-" Dr Williamson begins.

"'Supposedly', yes, I know," I interrupt. "Ugh, I mean- it's not like I CHOSE to be trans, is it?"

"Of course not, you can't help the way you were born," Dr Williamson says.

"And Dean can't help being a bigoted arsehole?" I ask.

"No, I think you'll find he CAN help that," my counsellor replies. "Laura, it's important that you don't let this affect you adversely." Here we go, I think to myself.

"I know," I sigh.

"Setbacks like this will happen in your day to day life," Dr Williamson continues. "And not just for transgendered people, they happen to everyone. But it doesn't make it right and it doesn't mean you have to accept it. What happened to the boy after he said what he did?"

"The teacher, he-" I say, before letting out a half-sigh half-laugh. "He threw him out of the class, basically fired him from being a prefect."

"So that's one person on your side," Dr Williamson says. "And your friends backed you up, I take it?"

"...Yeah," I say. "Even nominated me for head girl."

"Though- though I take it you didn't win the election, or vote, or whatever?" Dr Williamson asks softly.

"No, I- I turned down the nomination," I say. "It was right after what Dean said, and I was feeling low..."

"It's understandable," Dr Williamson says. "Wanting to run and hide is a natural reaction under the circumstances, but you mustn't let it be your default reaction. Sometimes you won't get other opportunities like that, and sure, being head girl may not be important in the grand scheme of things, but in a few years’ time, it could lead to you missing out on things like, say, a university place, or a role in a play or something like that." Decision made, then, I think to myself.

"...There is a play coming up soon," I say.

"There usually is this time of year, if I remember correctly," Dr Williamson says. "And I think I recall you saying something about it being an adaptation of Frozen, the Disney film?"

"Yep!" I say. "All my friends reckon I should audition for the part of Elsa."

"And what do you think?" Dr Williamson asks.

"I-" I say, before sighing. "I want to be an actress, I've said that loads of times... But I don't want to go up on stage and be laughed at, or booed before I've even had a chance, simply for being who I am."

"Then don't be," my counsellor advises.

"That easy, is it?" I snort.

"Let's work this through," Dr Williamson says. "The teachers at your school have known you for four years. They've known the other kids in your year for four years so they'll know not to let any potential troublemakers into the performance. The director of the performance will know this exact same thing, and wouldn't give you the part unless they were absolutely sure you were suitable for it, right?"

"That IS how directors work," I chuckle.

"I will be honest with you, Laura," Dr Williamson says. "Putting yourself out in public like this isn't something I'd recommend to kids who've had the same difficulties you have. But you're an exception. You've said all along you want to be an actress. You're looking at drama colleges for next year, and you've performed on stage for your ballet class so you do have experience of being in front of a crowd. I genuinely believe that this is something you can do."

"...Thanks," I say. "We actually sign ourselves up for auditions tomorrow after school. I know now what I'm going to do."

"Not 'let it go'?" Dr Williamson asks, laughing as I roll my eyes.

"The amount of times I've heard that song the last few days..." I say, earning yet more laughs as our session continues for the next hour.

As I grab my school bag and prepare to leave, however, Dr Williamson reveals that she has one final topic of discussion for me- and unsurprisingly, it's the one thing we've talked about during every session for the last few months.

"Are you still seeing that young man of yours?" Dr Williamson asks, making me blush.

"...Yes, I'm still going out with Kain," I say. "And no, I still have no intention of having underage sex with him."

"While I do believe you," Dr Williamson says, "the fact is that you won't be underage for that much longer."

"Yeah, mum has kinda had 'the talk' with me," I say. "I'm not going to suddenly jump into bed with him when I turn sixteen."

"...Isn't your boyfriend five months younger than you?" Dr Williamson asks, making me roll my eyes. "It's jumping into bed with him when HE turns sixteen that you need to be wary of."

"I know, I know," I say, trying not to sigh.

"The danger- and I'm not saying I think you'll do this," Dr Williamson continues, "is that when you turn sixteen you'll be tempted by another, maybe older boy."

"I won't," I say defiantly.

"Well- well it's something we can discuss next week," Dr Williamson says. "It's something we NEED to discuss sooner or later, Laura, and it's best to discuss it before it becomes an immediate issue."

"Okay," I shrug.

"Meantime, try to focus on your school work and your acting," Dr Williamson advises. "You're quite lucky in the amount of hobbies you have, and the fact that you excel at them."

"Keeps my mind off of the 'ultimate hobby'?" I ask.

"For one thing," Dr Williamson says. "It's also a reminder that you have a lot, a LOT to be confident about. Don't forget that, Laura."

"...I won't," I say with a smile as I leave the office.

The following day, during lunch at school, Nicole, Suriya, Mia and I head to the school gymnasium where we're issued with our cheerleading uniform for the year. It's very similar to last year's- trainers, a skirt, a leotard, a vest and of course, a pair of pom-poms- with just a few subtle differences in the colours and the fit. Of course, with this being the first cheer club meet of the year, there are more important things for the four of us (and the other three year 11 girls in the club) to discuss.

"Okay, girls," Miss Ellison says. "It's a new year, and I know you'll all be busy with your GCSEs, but I expect you to give it your all this year both at games and in competitions. First things first, though- one of you needs to be this year's captain!" A murmur fills the room as the seven of us look at each other, each wondering who the captain should be- but even though my friends outnumber the other girls, I still feel like everyone in the room is judging me for being transgendered, as though that somehow makes me unfit to be the captain. Never mind the fact that I'm one of the best dancers... And it doesn't help that one of 'my gang' got made head girl as well, if I was cheer captain it'd just prove that what Mia said last year was true- but that gives me and idea...

"I nominate Mia for captain," I say defiantly, earning a puzzled look from the black-haired girl.

"Laura- what are you doing?" Mia asks. "I thought you wanted to be captain?"

"Don't you want to be captain?" I ask.

"Not if you're still on about what we talked about after assembly yesterday," Mia says, before we're interrupted by an unexpected voice.

"I nominate Laura," Morgan- one of the 'other' girls in the cheer club- says.

"You- you what?" I ask.

"Laura, we heard what happened at the prefect meeting," Morgan says. "What Barton said to you sucked."

"Yeah," Sabrina (not Nicole's sister, but Morgan's friend with the same name) concurs. "Barton's an idiot. He isn't even that good at football."

"And he DOESN'T speak for us," Emily- Morgan and Sabrina's friend- says with a confident smile on her freckled face. "I nominate Laura too."

"Oh- oh my god, you girls..." I say.

"I nominate Laura too!" Suriya says.

"And me!" Nicole concurs as I feel my cheeks start to turn red.

"Well, that's four votes out of seven," Miss Ellison shrugs. "So I think I can officially announce that Laura White is our 2017-2018 cheer captain!"

"Woohoo!" The other six girls cheer, playfully waving their pom-poms in my cheering face, before lifting me off my feet and throwing me up in the air and catching me over and over again, just as we did all throughout last year at the club. Back then, I was never the 'flyer'- that was always the 5' 1" Suriya's job- but right now, I'm physically and emotionally higher than I've ever been.

It only takes one cruel word to bring your mood down- but at the same time, one gesture can lift you higher than you've ever been. It would've cost nothing for Morgan and her friends to step on me just as Dean had done three days earlier. But they didn't. They let me know that I was as much one of the girls as they were- and reminded me that just because someone isn't my friend, it doesn't mean that they can't be.

I have a great family, the best friends in the world, an amazing boyfriend, I'm a prefect at school and now I'm the captain of the cheerleading club. Any girl would be envious of all that I have- and given how much I've had to endure, I definitely feel like I've earned everything that I have. No more self-pity. I only have one year left at school. Time for everyone to see what I'm REALLY capable of!

My new-found confidence follows me into the first afterschool drama club meeting of the year, where I immediately sign my name on the list of people who will be auditioning for Elsa in the school play- and gratifyingly, it's a very short list, especially compared to the lists for Anna and Kristoff. Before I can feel too smug, though, Mrs. Ingram gets up on the stage with an announcement.

"Everyone," the head of drama says. "As only one person has put themselves down for the role of Hans, that role is hereby automatically filled. It is with great pleasure that I can tell you that the role of Prince Hans will be played by... Phil Brooks."

My stomach sinks as the name of my ex-boyfriend is called out and he walks up on the stage next to Mrs. Ingram with a smile on his face that I once found charming, but now find sickening. If I get the role, I'll be forced to interact with him virtually every day- and that's all I need right now. Even if he does turn sixteen before me...

I take a deep breath as I step out into the darkened studio. I can’t see the eyes of my teachers and my fellow students, but I know they’re watching. I don’t feel nervous, though- I feel confident, more confident than I’ve done in a very long time.

The fact that my slender body is wrapped in a voluminous tutu, my long, firm legs are encased in brilliant white tights and my feet are shod with shiny satin pointe shoes is a definite source of my confidence. The fact that my body is slender (well, apart from my widening hips and my C-cup breasts) is another major source of confidence. But the biggest source of confidence is today’s date. I was born on the 15th of November 2001, and today if the 14th of November 2017, meaning that tomorrow, my life is going to change in a very significant way.

Of course, in many ways, my life won’t change. I’ll still legally be a child, I’ll still get up and pull on the same uniform I wore to school today, I won’t be any taller, I won’t look any different… But I’ll feel different. There’s a whole host of things I can do tomorrow that I couldn’t do today- ride a moped, live independently, legally change my name... Most importantly, though, is that I’ll be able to take proper, full hormone replacement therapy… And I’ll legally be allowed to have sex.

Obviously I won't be able to have sex the way any 'normal' girl would, but that doesn't mean I won't be able to engage in some kind of sexual activity, and it most definitely doesn’t change the fact that I’ll legally be allowed to consent… Even though my current boyfriend won’t be sixteen himself for another five months. Fortunately, my counsellors say that oestrogen lowers a person’s sex drive- and I’m hoping that’s the case, as my current tiny dose of oestrogen isn’t doing anything to lessen the ‘urge’ I feel every time I look at Kain- or any other sexy young man, for that matter…

“C’est magnifique!” Mademoiselle Renou says, applauding along with the rest of the class as I finish my routine and dip into an elegant ballerina’s curtsey.

“So cool!” Nicole squeaks as she leads the rest of my friends into giving me a tight group hug- something that would’ve instilled panic in me a few years ago, after my experience with my ‘father’, but which I have now come to love.

“Very beautiful!” Mum- who was watching my class, along with Sean and Lily- says as she comes over and gives me a long, loving hug. “I can’t tell just how proud I am of you!”

“Mum!” I complain. “You don’t need to be so embarrassing…”

“Here I was thinking you turning thirteen was bad enough,” mum snorts as she releases her hug. “Then again, when you were thirteen, you were a LOT smaller! Hard to believe that was only three years ago…” I playfully sigh and roll my eyes- after almost sixteen years, I know that trying to get mum to stop embarrassing me would be wasted effort.

“Come on, we’d better get going,” Sean says. “Think your teacher will want her costume back too!”

“I shall,” Mademoiselle Renou says with a warm smile. “But I know that one of my most talented ballerinas will be wearing an even more beautiful tutu within a few months as soon as Miss Fullerton and I finish creating our next production!”

“A Daft Punk-themed ballet?” Sean asks with a grin. “Now THAT I must see!”

“I shall put you and your family down for tickets immediately!” Mademoiselle Renou says with a grin. “Now Laura, my tutu, s’il vous plait?”

“Oui, Mademoiselle Renou,” I reply with a giggle as I head into a quiet cupboard to exchange my tutu and tights for the pink tights and black leotard I wore to class- both of which, as always, fit me like a glove, and betray none of the ‘abnormalities’ that my body still possesses. After heading back to the main changing room to pull back on the warm pink hoodie and black denim skirt I wore to class- in between exchanging excited giggles with my friends, that is- I follow my family out to Sean’s car, where I’m barely in my seat five seconds before my mother starts embarrassing me again.

“I meant what I said, Laura,” mum says. “I am very, very proud of you.”

“Mum…” I moan as my cheeks redden.

“It’s just your family in the car now” Sean reminds me. “Can’t moan about being embarrassed in front of your friends! And for what it’s worth, I know I’ve only known you for a short period of time, and I can’t really claim any of the credit for your success, but I’m proud of you too, Laura.”

“Nah, you can claim SOME of the credit,” I say to my soon-to-be stepfather.

“…Now you’re making ME embarrassed,” Sean mumbles.

“Good,” I say, earning laughs from everyone in the car.

“I don’t get why it’s so embarrassing,” Lily says, making me smirk.

“Oh trust me,” I say to my soon-to-be stepsister, “you will, very, very soon! In fact, if I’ve got my maths right, you become a teenager around the same time I stop being one, right? An unbroken ‘streak’ of teenaged girls in your house…”

“Pass the Prozac,” Sean snorts.

“Well one thing’s for sure,” I say quietly. “You’re a much better job than the last person mum married.” I grimace as an awkward silence fills the car- everyone, even Lily, knows who I’m referring to, and exactly why I’m so critical of ‘him’.

“…I’d have to try very hard to do a worse job,” Sean says, trying futilely to lighten the mood. “Anyway, umm, now you’re sixteen, going to get off your arse and get a job?”

“Well let’s see,” I retort. “I’ve got acting once a week, with productions to rehearse for, ballet twice a week, with productions to rehearse for as well and the possibility of helping out with teaching there, Latin dancing once a week, meetings with my counsellor, drama, gymnastics AND cheerleading club at school and I’m a prefect as well. Oh- and stupid amounts of homework and coursework to do each night.”

“Exactly,” Sean says. “Got a couple of hours each Saturday you can spare to bring in some of your own money, right?”

“If you don’t mind me never doing any housework again, maybe,” I say.

“I’m not doing it for you,” Lily almost instantly chimes in.

“…And the teenage years start here,” Sean says with a loud, overdramatic sigh that brings laughter back to the car as we head through the crowded London streets.

Once we arrive back home, I try to busy my mind with the vast quantity of homework I still have to complete, but as hard as I try, I can’t shake off the overwhelming feeling of utter excitement about tomorrow. Five years ago, I fantasised about what my life would be like on my sixteenth birthday, but never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I’d be the person I am today- the WOMAN I am today.

When I was an eleven year old boy, I imagined that I’d grow up to be a sixteen year old boy. I’d be tall and slim like my brother (but better looking, obviously), probably on a sports team at school… And utterly miserable because I wouldn’t have any female friends, only stupid boys who were into things like football. My sixteenth birthday party would probably be spent eating pizza and playing videogames in a room that would, within minutes, stink of pure, unadulterated BOY. As would all of my clothes- especially the baggy jeans, t-shirt and trainers I’d inevitably be wearing. Megan and the other female friends I had would be at best distant acquaintances, and I most definitely wouldn’t have a girlfriend myself- I’d be too jealous of them to be able to form a proper relationship.

However, the way things have turned out, I’m still tall (well, for a girl) and slim, but I look nothing like my brother, thanks to years of anti-androgens, limited oestrogen, and most importantly of all, years of experience with make-up. I’m on a sports team at school, but it’s the gymnastics team (even if I won’t be in any competitions this year thanks to my aforementioned height), and I’m never happier than when I’m with my seven friends, all of whom are amazing and, most importantly, female. My sixteenth birthday celebration tomorrow (celebration, not party- the actual party will be on Saturday) will feature food that is sweet, delicate and entirely coloured in various shades of pink, and by the end of the evening, the smell filling the room will be a mixture of eight teenaged girls’ perfumes- one of the best smells there is. I most definitely will NOT be wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt- I’ll be wearing one of my fanciest dresses, a pair of light-coloured tights and shoes that have at least a 2 inch heel on them. And last, but definitely not least, my sexy boyfriend will be stood next to me with his arm around my narrow waist and his lips ready to kiss mine at a moment’s notice. There’s absolutely zero doubt in my mind which life I’d rather live.

Naturally, I don’t get much sleep when I eventually do go to bed, but I still need to be woken up by my alarm clock at 7am, ready for another day of school- even if today is far from ‘just another day’.

Sure enough, when I open the living room door, my jaw drops at the sight- and the sound- that greets me.

“Happy birthday!” The occupants of the room all yell, making me shriek with delight. In addition to mum, Sean and Lily, my brother is also here, as is my grandmother- my mother’s mother- who I approach first, and who I give a long, tight hug.

“Happy birthday, young lady!” Grandma chuckles. “And you are a ‘young lady’ now!”

“Thank you so much!” I excitedly squeak, before exchanging hugs with mum, Sean and Lily.

“Meh, happy birthday, I suppose,” Ricky says with a shrug, which earns himself a playful whack from our grandmother- something that earns a giggle from everyone assembled, even Ricky himself!

“Thanks,” I mumble, before giggling and giving my brother a tight hug of his own.

“You can open one present now,” mum says, handing me a brightly- coloured package, which obviously contains clothes, judging by the feel and weight. I waste no time in tearing the package open, gasping at what the package contains.

It’s a dress, unsurprisingly, but not just any dress. Unlike all of the other fancy dresses I own, this one is strapless, held up only by the tightness of the dress against my torso, and has a slender bodice and a flared knee-length skirt. The whole dress is a dark burgundy colour, and is by far the most grown-up dress I own. Never mind sixteen- if I wear this dress with the right heels (and obviously, the right hair and make-up), I could easily pass for EIGHTeen.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, leaning in to give my mum a tight hug. “Thank you so much!”

“A beautiful dress for a beautiful girl,” mum says, the rest of my family nodding approvingly. “But you’re still wearing your uniform to school today!”

“Meh, probably wouldn’t get away with this dress anyway,” I say with a giggle.

“Maybe you could wear it to your prom?” Lily says.

“Well, I COULD,” I reply, “but at occasions like that, a girl really needs to be seen in a dress she’s never been seen in before, so if I wear this tonight, then I’ll need a new dress for prom!”

“How about enjoying the dresses you do have first?” Grandma playfully chastises me, making me giggle and blush.

“I’m a sixteen year old girl,” I retort, musing on the fact that I’m not sure which part of that sentence makes me happier- ‘sixteen year old’ or ‘girl’.

“Say no more,” grandma chuckles, exchanging a glance with my mother that, much to my surprise, makes even her blush. “Now get ready for school, young lady! Work hard today and you’ll have earned tonight’s celebration!”

“Will do!” I squeak happily, literally skipping upstairs to change into the regulation white blouse, black tights, grey skirt and tiny black flats that make up my school uniform.

As a ‘birthday treat’, grandma gives me and Lily a lift to school. She also gives Ricky a lift to university, which takes away from the ‘treat’ side of it a little, but I’m still literally buzzing with excitement when I get to the school gate and my six friends are all waiting for me, all of them just as excited as I am.

“Happy birthday Laura!” The girls all squeak as they surround me in a tight group hug.

“Thanks, girlies!” I say in a voice that’s closer to a shriek than anything else. I giggle excitedly as Nicole retrieves a silver and pink sash from her bag that reads ‘birthday girl’, while Mia takes a glittery tiara out of her bag and ‘crowns’ me with it. I pose for several photos and selfies for the girls before removing the accessories (I highly doubt I’ll get away with wearing them in class) and heading to form with Harriet, Suriya and Nicole.

En route to form, however, the four of us run into the person I was most hoping to see- and judging by the smile on his face, it’s obvious that he’s remembered the importance of today as well.

“Hey Laura!” Kain says with a nervous chuckle. “Ha- happy birthday!”

“Aww, thanks babe!” I giggle, standing on tiptoes to give my tall boyfriend a long, soft kiss on his lips that turns his cheeks a deep red- and brings some colour to mine as well! “You coming round tonight?”

“Duh,” Kain says, making me giggle.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay going to a GIRL’s party?” Harriet asks, making Kain- who’s always been a little scared of the ginger girl- laugh nervously.

“…As long as that girl is Laura, then… Yeah?” Kain replies.

“Right answer,” Harriet says with a smug grin that makes my boyfriend cringe as the five of us take our seats, ready for the start of form.

I do my best to concentrate throughout the first two lessons of the day, but excitement about tonight does make me a little distracted- and it only gets worse at break when I arrive at my usual table and my sash and tiara are almost immediately placed back on me.

“So…?” Ashley asks as I sit down. “How does it feel, being sixteen?”

“Truthfully?” I reply. “It feels AWESOME. I’m not, you know, a ‘little girl’ anymore? I mean sure, I’m still wearing this uniform, I’m no taller than I was yesterday, my boobs aren’t any bigger… But, you know? I feel different, like?”

“Priya said the same thing last year,” Suriya says with a giggle. “Ugh, can’t believe I’ve got five months to wait!”

“Can’t believe I’ve got eighteen months!” Ashley retorts, sharing a giggle with the brown-skinned girl. “Ah, seriously though, Laura, happy birthday!"

“Thanks, girlie girlie!” I say, earning a squeak of happiness from my fellow transgendered girl.

“Funny you should say you’re not a ‘little girl’ anymore, though,” Megan says with a warm smile. “I remember when there was nothing else you’d rather be.”

“Well- yes, that IS true,” I reply. “But, you know? I’d rather be a woman than a girl?”

“Oh- definitely!” Harriet giggles. “But you’re still going to squeeze that hot bod of yours into a skin-tight leotard at lunch, right?”

“Duh,” I reply, making the whole table giggle yet again.

Sure enough, at lunchtime, I- along with Nicole, Suriya, Ashley and Sabrina- am stood in my ‘private changing room’, stretching my trust long-sleeved leotard over my body and tying my hair back with a sparkly red scrunchie. A part of me does wonder whether or not Harriet has a point, whether I am too old for activities like this, especially when I see Nicole’s sister getting changed into her leotard. Sabrina is twelve and tall for her age, but I’m still easily a head taller than her. Then again, just over six months from now, I’ll have set foot in this school for the last ever time. I may even have pulled on a gymnastics leotard for the last ever time. Just because I’m finally growing up, it doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy being a girl- rather than a woman- while it lasts.

“Happy birthday, Laura!” Sabrina says with a happy grin.

“Aww, thanks girlie!” I reply, making both Sabrina and her older sister grin. “We’re really missing you at our table, you know?”

“Yeah, well, I want to make friends who AREN’T Nicole,” Sabrina replies.

“You’re friends with my sister,” Ashley retorts, making Sabrina bite her lip as she’s suddenly put on the spot. “Though to be fair, she’s desperate to make friends who aren’t me as well, heh.”

“As long as we can have your table when you all leave school,” Sabrina says, making us four ‘older girls’ giggle.

“That can be arranged,” Suriya giggles. “Are you and Bryony coming round tonight?”

“Yep!” Sabrina says with a grin. “We can be the ‘terrific ten’ instead of the ‘excellent eight’, hehe!”

“Hell yeah!” I cheer.

“Sabrina’s also going to be in drama club, too,” Nicole says with a proud grin. “We might be looking at the next Keira Knightley!”

“I thought we already were?” Suriya says, posing with her hands on her hips.

“Fine, then I’ll just have to be the next Daisy Ridley, I guess!” I say, placing my hands on my hips and posing with a deep, model-like pout.

“Ah, the best Elsa and Anna since the originals!” Ashley giggles as Suriya and I exchange a quick hug.

“Ah…” Nicole sighs happily. “I would be jealous, if you didn’t have to act with that jerk who’s playing Hans…”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” I spit as I’m reminded of my- and Nicole’s- ex-boyfriend. “Almost wish I was playing Anna now, that way I get to punch him at the end!”

“I’ll do it for you,” Suriya giggles. “That’s what sisters are for, after all!”

“I always thought Phil was a jerk,” Sabrina says. “He always made fun of me and Damian whenever he came round. Maybe it’s because he’s the youngest in his family.”

“Nah, his sister’s cool,” Nicole says.

“Hi sister’s an Angel!” I laugh. “Of course she’s cool, she, like, defines cool!” The five of us all giggle as we join the rest of the gymnastics club, ready to head up to do our flips and falls.

Even despite my highly energetic lunch period, I’m still buzzing with energy throughout the final lesson of the day, and by the time I climb into mum’s car at the end of the day (having given Kain his traditional ‘kiss goodbye’, of course) I’m almost floating, I’m that excited about tonight.

“Good day, then?” Mum asks, making me giggle girlishly. “I’ll take that as a yes, heh.”

“Oh my god,” I reply, literally bouncing up and down in my seat. “I am SO excited about tonight!”

“Well, you should be,” mum chuckles. “You only turn sixteen once, and all that… God help me when you get to eighteen and twenty-one, I’m going to have a hard time topping tonight and what I’ve got planned for Saturday!”

“So awesome!” I say in a barely-coherent squeak.

“God, the last time you were this excited about a birthday was your twelfth,” mum laughs. “And that only seems like a few weeks ago, heh.”

“Well, my twelfth was kind of a big deal,” I remind my mother, before turning to face my stepsister, who has a confused look on her face. “My twelfth was my first ever birthday as a girl, Lily.”

“Oh, I see,” the ten year old girl replies.

“The fashion show you did,” mum laughs. “You know, I think I still have the DVD of that somewhere…”

“Oh- oh god, no,” I say, my eyes widening. “You are NOT showing that tonight, I’ll die of embarrassment!”

“Relax, I won’t,” mum laughs. “But only because your friends probably would as well. Besides, I’m saving that for when you get a little bit TOO big for your boots, heh!”

“You wouldn’t dare,” I say.

“You’ve known me now for sixteen years,” mum reminds me. “You know I would.” I let out a long groan as Lily giggles from the back seat, but excitement about tonight soon grips me again, especially when I arrive home to find the front door decorated with numerous balloons, all in different shades of pink, with two in particular standing out- one in the shape of a ‘1’ and the other in the shape of a ‘6’.

When I open the front door, I find that the entire hallway and living room have been similarly decorated, and in addition to balloons, there are streamers, banners, pink-coloured throws over the sofas in the room, on top of which is a massive pile of presents, and in the corner of the room is a huge, pink coloured cake with sixteen lit candles on the top. What’s most surprising, however, is the identity of the person who emerges from the kitchen to greet me.

“Happy birthday, Laura!” The elderly woman says with a smile on her face.

“G- grandma?” I ask. “Grandma White? Wh- what are you doing here?”

“Ask a silly question,” my grandmother chuckles. “It’s your sixteenth birthday, the most important one yet! Where else am I going to be?”

“It’s just- I haven’t seen you in-“ I giggle loudly, before giving the elderly woman a gentle hug. Ever since mum and Sean got together, I’d sort-of fallen out of contact with my ‘father’s side of the family, but obviously, they haven’t forgotten about me. However, this does put one anxious thought in my brain. “Does- does dad-“

“I saw him last month,” grandma explains. “I reminded him that your sixteenth was coming up… I’m sorry, Laura, he- he wouldn’t even hear me when I talked about you.”

“It’s okay,” I shrug. “If anything, I- I kinda prefer it that way.”

“Do NOT let it ruin tonight!” Grandma says firmly. “It’s your sixteenth birthday. It should be the happiest day of your life so far!”

“She’s right, Laura,” my other grandmother says. “So let’s see your smile, okay?”

“…Okay,” I say, giggling and making both of my grandmothers smile.

“Now then,” Grandma Clarke says, “are you really going to open your presents wearing your school uniform, or are you going to change into that beautiful new dress of yours?”

“Don’t really need to think about the answer to that, do I?” I excitedly squeak as my grandmothers both nod and gesture to the door leading to the stairs.

“And Laura?” Grandma Clarke asks before I head upstairs. “Wear as much make-up as you want.”

Naturally, once I reach my bedroom, I follow grandma’s advice, enhancing my facial features in the ways I’ve practised so often in the past. I even take the time to heat up my curling iron to add more bounce to my long blonde tresses, before turning my attention to my new dress, which is hanging up on my wardrobe door. I giggle as I strip down to my underwear, before taking the dress off its hanger- and spotting an immediate problem.

“Ugh,” I spit as I fiddle with my bra’s thin straps- straps that would be visible over the top of the dress once I’ve put it on. Almost in desperation, I reach into my underwear drawer, hoping to find to disguise the straps, when my fingers come into contact with the familiar feel of shiny wrapping paper. I giggle as I unwrap the package to find a flesh-coloured strapless bra in my size, which fits me like a glove once I’ve fastened it behind my back.

Not long later, my new dress is wrapped around my body, my best earrings are pushed through my lobes and my feet are in my highest heeled shoes. If it wasn’t a school night tomorrow, I’d probably have painted my nails as well, but that will just have to wait for my next birthday!

The increased commotion from downstairs is a dead giveaway that a lot of people have arrived while I’ve been getting ready, so once I’ve checked (and double checked, and triple checked) my appearance to make sure it’s flawless, I step out of my room and elegantly glide downstairs, giggling as my friends and family all yell ‘happy birthday’- in between gasping with awe at my dress, anyway!

“Happy birthday, my beautiful, brilliant daughter!” Mum says, giving me a gentle hug as I reach the bottom of the stairs. “Now come on, you’ve got a lot of presents to open!” I giggle excitedly as I exchange yet more hugs with my family and my friends (all of whom are dressed up for the occasion as well) in the hall, before heading into the living room where yet more people are waiting for me- including a few unexpected faces!

“Happy birthday, Laura!” The familiar voice of Nikki Thomas says as she gives me a gentle hug.

“Oh my god, what are you doing here?” I squeak.

“You need to ask?” Nikki giggles. “Not going to miss a day THIS important, hehe! And I brought along a few friends…” I gasp and have to physically restrain myself from bouncing up and down with excitement as I exchange hugs with (and, even more excitingly, receive presents from) Stephanie Abbott, Nikki’s friend Jacinta and, most excitingly of all, the one and only Jamie-Lee Milton!

“The ‘Fellowship’ always looks after its own,” Jamie says, giving me a sly wink as she gestures to her left shoulder blade, where I know she bears a very special tattoo. “Especially its younger sisters, hehe!"

"And you're only sixteen once," Stephanie says. "I know I'd have given anything for a day like this when I was sixteen. And as we've got the money and the influence to do this-"

"YOU might have the money and the influence," Jacinta interrupts, making me giggle excitedly. "But we want to do everything we can to make this day as special as possible."

"You're doing that just by being here!" I squeak.

"Heh," Jamie chuckles. "Ten years from now, I'll probably be the one begging you to come to my birthday party!"

"Probably two years from now in my case!" Jacinta says, causing all five of us girls to giggle excitedly.

“Stuart, Jessica and Ian also send their apologies,” Nikki explains. “Family, work and distance respectively.”

“Oh- believe me, this is MORE than amazing!” I giggle. “I am SO getting that tattoo when I turn eighteen, hehe!”

“Concentrate on turning sixteen first!” Mum says with a disapproving look, before handing me my first present from the pile, which I eagerly open.

It’s takes well over half an hour to open all my gifts- especially as I insist on thanking everyone with hugs- but by the end of it, I’m overwhelmed by the generosity that I’ve been shown by the people in my life. I have almost an entire wardrobe of new clothes, including a lot of ‘grown-up’ clothes like my new dress (and another from Nikki and her wife), several new pairs of shoes (most of which have a high heel), cosmetics, perfume, accessories (including a lot of Angel-themed accessories from Jamie and Stephanie), dancewear (including a jet black pair of pointe shoes from Miss Fullerton and Mademoiselle Renou) and two very special pieces of jewellery- the first, a dainty gold necklace from my mother that I fasten immediately, and the second is an obviously hand-made (but no less special) wooden bracelet from Kain, which earns him an extra tight hug and an extra-long kiss that gets me some disapproving stares from the older members of my family! I get a handful of ‘non-girly’ presents as well, including a PlayStation 4 from my brother, which excites Kain more than me- though Ricky did at least think to buy a game with ‘16’ on the cover, which he circled in his traditional fashion.

Eventually, the cake is cut, the celebrity guests (including Ricky’s girlfriend Alice) depart- following one last hug and a group selfie, of course- and I can finally try to relax and soak in all the love that I’ve been shown today. With my boyfriend helping my brother to set up my new PlayStation, the first person I gravitate toward is my oldest and best friend, who has hide a wide grin on her bespectacled face all evening.

“Happy birthday, girlie!” Megan giggles as we exchange a hug and sit down together, crossing one leg over the other in an identical manner. “And god, I don’t think you have ever been girlier!”

“Thank you,” I say with a smug grin. “That WAS intended as a compliment, right?”

“Duh,” Megan replies, making us both giggle yet again. “You’re probably the girliest girl in the room, heh. And probably the hottest, too! I know sometimes I even have trouble keeping George’s eyes off you…”

“Is this the same George Dixon who catches fire every time he touches anything girly?” I retort, making my best friend roll her eyes.

“You’d be surprised,” Megan says with a wink. “But seriously, Kain’s a lucky guy.”

“I know,” I say with another, smugger grin.

“In a way… I’m kinda jealous, you know?” Megan mumbles.

“Umm… Why, exactly?” I ask.

“Blonde, cute cheerleader with a supermodel body?” Megan snorts. “Every girl would be jealous, Laura. I reckon every girl IS jealous whether they want to admit it or not.”

“Yeah, this ‘supermodel body’ kinda has a ‘flaw’ to it,” I snort. “If anyone should be jealous, it’s me.”

“Yeah, well, they can correct your ‘flaw’,” Megan retorts. “They can’t correct my 6’ 2” wide-shouldered skeleton, can they?”

“You’ll always be a gorgeous, girly girl to me,” I say, leaning in to give my BFF a tight hug. “No matter what size or shape your body is, hehe!”

“Right back at you, girl!” Megan giggles. A few seconds later, the two of us are joined on the sofa by a face neither of us have seen since the weekend- but who is still, nonetheless, one of our best ever friends.

“Speaking of being jealous of you, Meg,” I tease.

“Oh- shut up,” Priya snorts as she wedges her slender 5’ 2” frame between our much taller bodies. “Might not be head girl but I’ll still always be older than both of you…”

“What a comeback!” Megan giggles.

“And thanks for coming tonight,” I say, giving a gentle hug to the Indian girl.

“Like I wouldn’t?” Priya snorts.

“You mean you’re not too busy will all the older, college girls?” Megan teases, earning an eye roll from our older friend.

“No friends I ever make will be as good as you two,” Priya giggles. “As good as you seven, hehe!”

“Don’t you mean ‘as good as us eight’?” I ask with a sly grin that my friends quickly emulate.

“X8 for life!” The three of us cheer, which attracts Nicole and Suriya, both of whom wedge themselves onto our sofa. While it’s not exactly comfortable being wedged onto a three-seat sofa with four other girls, there really is nowhere else I’d rather be right now- though a quick glance across the room reveals one other person I’d rather be ‘wedged in’ with…

“Hey!” Suriya giggles, snapping her fingers in front of my face. “Eyes off the meat!”

“What?” I shrug. “I. Like. Cute. Boys. Okay?”

“Sisters before misters,” Nicole says with a smug grin of her own. “Ah, this brings back memories, you know? Of your twelfth birthday, when it was just the five of us?”

“God, it was, wasn’t it?” I ask. “No Ashley, no Mia… No Harriet…”

“And no boys!” Priya says, giggling as my friends all cheer.

“And about eighteen inches less of height,” Megan says.

“Yeah,” I say with a tired expression on my face. “Because YOUR body’s changed the most in the last four years?” I stand up and pose with my hands on my beautifully curved hips as my friends all giggle excitedly.

“God, if you were any hotter, I’D want you, hehe!” Nicole laughs.

“…Take that as a compliment,” I giggle. “Where have the other three gone, anyway?”

“Speaking of ‘wanting girls’,” Suriya giggles. “Wouldn’t be surprised if two of them are tucked away somewhere.”

“Oh?” I ask.

“Well you know Harriet only likes girls,” Suriya explains. “So does Ashley, and Mia’s said she feels she’s bisexual… Wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a little inter-X8 romance going on…”

“As long as it isn’t an inter-X8 love triangle,” Priya snorts. “The LAST thing we need…”

“Meh, I’m hardly going to criticise anyone for being LGBT, am I?” I ask, earning giggles from my friends as I wedge myself back into the sofa. “Even if they should be here heaping praise on me rather than heaping, well…”

“Done,” Ricky suddenly announces, sliding the TV back into place and handing me a PlayStation controller. “You’re the birthday girl, you get first game!”

“Oh- I’m good, thanks,” I say.

“No, come on,” Ricky urges, making me roll my eyes. “I spend all this money…”

“Stop pestering your sister!” Grandma Clarke chastises my brother, who visibly cringes. “Just because you want the second game!”

“Oh- fine,” I sigh, grabbing the controller and wincing as my new bracelet clatters against its hard plastic shell- though this causes my eyes to lock with those of my boyfriend, who has a goofy, lopsided grin on his face as I play a few minutes of my new game (though I’d much rather continue looking at his face than at the screen).

I only play for a few minutes before handing the controller over- though, much to my brother’s chagrin, I hand it to Kain rather than to him! The ‘party’ itself dissipates a short while afterwards, with my grandparents leaving and giving lifts home to my friends. As luck would have it, the last person to leave is Kain, and with the house emptying fast, we soon find a secluded little corner, and seconds later, our tongues are in each other’s mouths. I moan happily as I wrap my arms around Kain's neck, and my whole body feels like it's about to melt as he gently places his hands on my hips. When he moves one hand up my back, so that it's touching the bare skin on my back, I feel like I'm literally floating... We’d probably be there all night, but for my mum interrupting us with a loud cough.

“I, umm, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Kain babbles as he heads toward the front door, while I try not to wither under my mother’s stern stare.

“We weren’t doing anything, only kissing,” I say, turning to show my mother my back. “See? Dress still zipped all the way up.”

“Fine,” mum says in a voice that tell me she SERIOUSLY disapproves of what Kain and I were doing.

“Oh- come on,” I plead. “We weren’t doing anything illegal, and when we’re both sixteen, you won’t be legally able to stop us from doing anything we want!”

“Oh believe me, I WILL be able to stop you,” mum threatens. “There are plenty of ways of doing that.”

“Are any of those ways fair?” I ask, defiantly crossing my arms.

“If they stop you from being hurt?” Mum retorts. “Then yes, yes they will be fair. Laura- ugh. You know I’m just trying to keep you safe, right?”

“How long have you known Kain?” I retort. “How many times has he been aggressive towards me? Or pushy? Or- and let’s face it, this IS what you’re worried about- how many times has he ever been even remotely like Robert White?”

“That doesn’t mean he won’t be in the future,” mum says.

“The same could be said of Sean,” I retort. “The same could be said of ANY man. And you’re not going to lock me in my room for the rest of my life. Sooner or later, I AM going to be physical with a boy. And you need to accept that it’s ‘sooner’ rather than ‘later’.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” mum growls. “And it definitely doesn’t mean I’m going to encourage it! Not like you need any encouragement, anyway…”

“I am not a slut!” I retort, barely keeping my anger in check. “Just because I snog one boy, it doesn’t mean I’m going to jump down the pants of every boy I see!”

“It- ugh,” mum says with a loud sigh. “I- I’m sorry, Laura, I didn’t mean to imply that. I know you really like Kain, you’ve made a promise to me that you’ll wait until you’re both of legal age, and I trust that you will.”

“…Thank you,” I mumble.

“I just look at you sometimes, and- it’s frustrating, as a mother,” mum explains. “You’re still my little girl, and seeing you dressed the way you do, showing off your legs, and your midriff…”

“I’m 5’ 9” and got a dancer’s body,” I retort. “I’m not going to hide it under a bin liner. Besides… You can’t deny I haven’t earned this body.”

“…Maybe not,” mum says.

“And it’s going to change a lot more when Dr Williamson gives me a full prescription for oestrogen next time I see her,” I say with a smug grin that makes my mother sigh.

“You know, I’d actually forgotten about that?” Mum sighs. “You’ve changed so much already. For the better, of course.”

“…Thanks,” I mumble again. “For- for everything, mum. I probably wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you…” I sniff back a tear as my mother and I exchange a gentle hug.

“Don’t ever say that,” mum whispers. “You ARE here. And you are a beautiful, talented young woman. You just maybe have a bit more growing up to do, that’s all.”

“I’m four inches taller than you, not counting my heels,” I retort, giggling as mum gives me a playful shove.

“Go on, get ready for bed,” mum orders. “Still a school day tomorrow, back to ‘normality’…”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Lucky that my ‘normality’ isn’t all that bad, eh?”

“Go on,” mum says with a warm smile as I head up to my bedroom.

I let out a tired, happy sigh as I slowly (and carefully) ease myself out of my new dress and remove my heels, before sitting down at my dressing table and removing the thick make-up I wore tonight- with the exception of my lipstick, of course, most of which was ‘removed’ by Kain before he went home! As I stare at my plain, make-up free face, though, I muse on mum’s words, that I’m still a lot younger than I’d maybe like to admit. And worse yet, every time I look at ‘Laura’s face in the mirror, I can still see ‘Leon’s.

Okay, that should be obvious- it’s not like my face magically changed shape when I started wearing a skirt, after all- like Megan said, no amount of hormones or surgery can change my skeleton, which is and always will be fully, disgustingly male- even the bones in my face. It doesn’t stop me from being cute, of course- Kain is proof enough of that- but every time I look at myself in the mirror, I’m reminded that I’m ‘different’. Fortunately, the rest of my body- especially my torso- more than makes up for that. My ribcage may be male, but the muscles and skin (not to mention ‘other things’) on top of it are absolutely 100% female. The same can even be said of my face, actually- my skin is soft and smooth, I’ve never had to shave facial hair from it, and in all likelihood, I never will.

And there’s one thing that can’t be denied- tomorrow morning, when I wake up, my body will be covered in clothes that are undeniably female, my face will be covered by a (admittedly light) layer of make-up that is unquestionably female, and when I arrive at school, the only thing people will see is someone who is, without a shadow of a doubt, a girl. Whether they choose to accept it is their problem- all I can do is be the person who I really am, deep down inside. And HER name is Laura Jade White.

And it should go without saying that Laura Jade White gets greeted by a tight group hug from HER friends when SHE arrives at school- and it’s obvious from the grins on their faces that they’re still on a high from last night.

“Hey girlies!” I squeak happily. “Ah… Back to normal today, I guess…”

“If by ‘normal’ you mean ‘being a cool, sexy, sixteen year old girlie cheerleader’, then yes, back to normal!” Ashley says, making me giggle excitedly.

“Sixteen year and a day old, anyway,” Megan teases, making me actually squeak with excitement. “That number’s going to get really old really quickly…”

“Yep,” I say with a smug grin as me and my friends head to our respective forms. “By this time next year, ‘seventeen’ will be THE number, hehe!”

Fortunately, I’m able to calm down over the course of the form period and first lessons (helped by one of them being PE), and by first break the seven of us are virtually back to normal- although that ‘normal’ is still pretty excitable at the best of times, especially when we’re looking through the photos last night on our phones! By the time lunch rolls around, however, I’m excited again, not least because I get to change into the tight leotard and tiny skirt that makes up our school’s cheerleading uniform. This is probably the most special of all my ‘uniforms’, not because it’s the cutest (although it is) and not because my uniform has a ‘C’ for captain sewn onto the shoulders, but because of where I get to change into it.

I (and my friends, even though they’re technically not supposed to) change for PE and gymnastics club in one of the girls’ toilets at the teachers’ insistence so that the other students don’t ‘feel uncomfortable with my presence’. The school have explained that it’d be impractical to send permission slips to the parents of every student in the school, and besides, it’d only take one rejection to prevent me from being allowed access to the regular changing rooms. However, there are only thirteen girls in cheer club, two of whom (including me) are transgendered, so the teachers agreed that eleven permission slips wasn’t too big a hassle- and when all of them came back positive, I literally screamed with happiness- which I have to stop myself from doing as I walk into the girls’ changing rooms and begin stripping off my uniform. A quick glance at Ashley as she enters the changing room reveals that she’s almost squeaking with excitement too!

“Hey, Captain Laura!” Morgan- one of the other girls from our year in the cheer club- says with a grin. “Saw the photos from your party last night! It looked SO cool…”

“I can’t believe you actually got two Angels AND a member of Out of Heaven to go to your party!” Sabrina- Morgan’s best friend, not Nicole’s sister- laughs. “SO jealous.”

“In fairness, they only stuck around for about half an hour,” Nicole says, making me grimace at her usual bluntness.

“And I guess I did already know them beforehand,” I concede. “From the photoshoot, and, well, you know…”

“The ‘IX’ tattoo, yeah,” Sabrina says quietly. “But that dress you wore! OMG it was so cute!”

“I know!” I giggle. “I know that Kain REALLY like the fact that it had a low back, hehe!”

“Ooh,” the other girls all coo.

“So…” Morgan teases. “Have you, you know, had him yet? Now that you’re legal, like?”

“I’m legal, he isn’t,” I sigh. “After what happened with that arsehole Scott, I’m probably NEVER going to be left alone with a boy…”

“Ugh, that sucks,” Sabrina sighs. “Still, it doesn’t count as illegal if the girl’s over sixteen and the boy’s under sixteen, does it?”

“Pretty sure it does,” Suriya says quietly. “Pretty sure it’s sixteen regardless of either gender.”

“Oops, unlucky, Emily,” Morgan giggles at the red haired girl.

“Oh?” I ask, only furthering the blushing girl’s embarrassment.

“I thought you only liked girls, anyway?” Mia asks.

“I do,” Emily mumbles. “I- I thought that, you know, if nothing ‘went in’…”

“Yeah, trust me, it still counts,” I mumble as I again remember my ‘experience’ with Scott.

“…I’m not sure we should be talking about these things in front of the year 10s, hehe!” Morgan giggles, lightening the mood in the changing room.

“Even those who are fifteen tomorrow!” Allie- one of the year 10 girls- says as she gives a playful hug to Melissa (another one of the year 10 girls).

“Ah- out of the spotlight already, Laura,” Suriya teases, making me giggle and roll my eyes.

“Meh, I’ll just have to get back in it at drama tonight, won’t I?” I giggle as I fasten the laces on my sparkly trainers, tie my hair back with a glittery scrunchie and prepare to lead MY cheer team out to the playing field to rehearse our routines.

As we run through our moves, though, I can’t help but be distracted by the other girls around me. I now know for a fact that two of them- Nicole and Emily- are not virgins, and legally or otherwise, that number is only going to increase in the coming few months as more of my friends turn sixteen. I saw in my face last night that I was still a girl, and not yet a woman, and as clichéd as it sounds, I do want to be a woman- in as much as I want someone to ‘make me a woman’. Sure, five months isn’t a huge amount of time to wait for Kain to turn sixteen, but even then, he may feel that he isn’t ready, or even worse, we might not still be together by then… Gazing over at the glances that Ashley and Mia are exchanging, they may even end up losing their virginity before I do.

I try to put these thoughts out of my mind- as captain, I have a job to do, after all, and I know consciously that sex isn’t everything. And I know I don’t need to worry about Kain, the way he ogles me as I head back into the changing rooms is more than enough to tell me that he’s not going anywhere for a while!

PE and cheer practice leaves me too tired to be anxious for the rest of the school day, though I’m still a long way from being able to completely relax- later tonight is my Latin dancing class, but first is drama practice, which I head to immediately once the bell rings to signal the end of the ‘normal’ day.

“Hi, Elsa and Anna!” Mrs. Ingram says with a giggle as Suriya and I walk into the vast main hall. “We’ve still got about twenty minutes before the students from the other school arrive, but you can run through some lines now if you’d like?”

“Sure!” I say as Suriya and I get our scripts out of our bags and begin rehearsing our scenes together.

The hall soon fills up, though, first with the kids from the lower years of our school (who will be playing background roles in the play, much like I did in previous years) then with the students of our ‘sister school’- which, as always, puts me on edge, as one of the students (and even worse, one of the stars of the play) is none other than my ex-boyfriend Phil Brooks.

“Leads, gather round please,” Mrs. Ingram says, and I try not to wince as I find myself walking side by side with the boy I once thought I loved, but now can’t stand to be in the same room with.

Fortunately, Mrs. Ingram’s instructions are able to distract me from Phil’s presence, but before too long, we’re deep into rehearsal- and much to my irritation, today we’re rehearsing the only scene that my character shares with his. Naturally, as we rehearse, I feel my whole body start to tense up- especially as the eyes of everyone in the hall are on us.

“You have to tell them to let me go,” I say, trying my best to properly emote while at the same time trying not to give Phil the ‘wrong impression’.

“I will do what I can,” Phil replies, giggling bashfully as the other students all applaud.

“Very good,” Mrs. Ingram says, joining in the applause. “Phil, I want you to work more on seeming like you’re, if you get my meaning ‘in charge’. Hans’s plan has come to fruition and he’s feeling smug, smarmy even, that needs to come across.” Shouldn’t be difficult, I think to myself. Laura, in this scene Elsa is at her most vulnerable, so you need to play up her fear- she doesn’t know what Hans is capable of, how he’ll react.

“Yes, Mrs. Ingram,” Phil and I simultaneously reply- making him giggle and me wince.

“You two go and practise,” Mrs. Ingram says. “Suriya, Lane, I want you two to run through Anna’s first meeting with Kristoff.” I force a smile on my face as I follow Phil to the side of the room, though when I get there, I let out a long sigh- and the smile on my ex-boyfriend’s face does nothing to set me at ease.

“Hey,” Phil mumbles in a soft, gentle voice. “I, umm, I saw that it was your birthday yesterday, umm, happy birthday!”

“Thanks,” I reply stoically.

“Pretty cool of Jamie and Nikki to go round to your house,” Phil says. “Though I guess with that photoshoot you guy- girls did, you and Steph, and Jacinta…” Keep trying to impress me, I think to myself.

“And Ashley,” I say, smirking as Phil winces as he remembers the last encounter he had with my younger transgendered friend, which ended with him rolling on the floor in pain. In this very room, in fact…

“Umm, yeah,” Phil mumbles. “So, umm, you- you’re sixteen now, right?”

“Yep,” I reply.

“My birthday was last month, so so am I,” Phil says with a smirk. “Not seeing anyone at the moment though.”

“Not surprised,” I say, which, much to my surprise, actually earns a giggle from the tall young man.

“…Probably deserve that,” Phil sighs. “After the whole ‘you and Nicole’ thing, yeah. My sister, like, she knows loads of sixteen year old models through her work but won’t let me near any of them, heh.”

“She is as smart as everyone says, then,” I say.

“I always thought that you two should’ve been a lot closer as friends,” Phil says candidly. “I mean, she’s not transgendered, but she’s had, you know, issues with her body image in the past, and- and you ought to be a model, you know?” Oh, you total creep, I think to myself, remaining silent and glaring at the brown-haired boy. “Umm, I mean… You- you should, like, send a CV to Joshua or something. 'Cause, you know, you're tall and blonde... You look a little like Hannah Dexter, you know? And I've known her since I was, like, three...”

“Okay,” I shrug, trying to remain cool even though what Phil’s suggesting is something I’d be REALLY interested in.

“I’ve sent in a portfolio,” Phil says, piquing my interest despite my best efforts. “I’m actually, like, a proper male model now. I can, you know, put in a good word for you if you want?”

“And what would you want in return?” I ask.

“Nothing,” Phil shrugs. “Just, you know, it’d be cool to hang out from time to time, that’s all.”

“I HAVE a boyfriend,” I remind the brown haired boy.

“I know,” Phil says. “I say the photos on your Instagram. Is he sixteen yet?” I bite my lip rather than answer Phil’s question, as it’s obvious that he knows the answer and he knows that I know that he knows the answer.

“We should be rehearsing,” I say, opening my script and turning to the page with our scene.

Fortunately, the rehearsal comes to an end shortly afterward and I can put the thought of Philip Brooks far behind me. Or at least… I try to. Because as much as I hate to admit it, I am flattered that he seems genuinely interested- and more than a little guilty, especially when mum picks me and Suriya up from school and takes me straight to my Latin dancing class, where I’m greeted with a kiss from my current boyfriend before heading to get changed.

It took some arm twisting, but Suriya and I were eventually able to persuade our boyfriends to come to dance class with us on the promise that first, they wouldn’t be the only boys there, second, we wouldn’t tell anyone at school, and third- and I have to believe that this was the ‘deal clincher’- they’d get to spend an hour each week with their hands all over our bodies. Part of the reason I started taking Latin dancing class was to help me get over my anxiety about being touched by other people- after what happened with ‘my father’- and after what happened in the school car park in the summer, Kain was also more than a little anxious about touching me in an ‘unwelcome’ way. In this class, however, physical contact is mandatory, which makes both of us very pleased- especially Kain, when he sees me walk up to him in the dance studio wearing nothing but a pair of leggings, a skin-tight crop top and my high-heeled dancing shoes.

“Hey sexy,” I whisper as my boyfriend places one hand on my hip and I place one on the bare, muscular shoulder poking out from underneath his basketball singlet.

“Hey beautiful,” Kain whispers, and I try my best to suppress a giggle as the music starts and we begin our steps.

As always, I have fun during the lesson, and gratifyingly, so does Kain. Obviously, four years of ballet, gymnastics and cheerleading give me an edge over him when it comes to dancing ability, but he’s learning fast and putting his all into it as well. However, his real reason for enjoying dancing with me becomes apparent when I untie my hair, shake it loose and approach him for another kiss, which he is only too happy to oblige.

“Umm… Sorry,” Kain says, his cheeks reddening as I lean into him and am surprised by the feel of a firm bulge pressing into my thigh.

“Trust me, don’t apologise for that!” I giggle. “I’d be kinda offended if, you now, you didn’t, hehe!”

“Heh,” Kain giggles as he shuffles toward his father’s car, his hands in his pockets. Once he’s out of sight, though, I let out a long sigh- it’s going to be a LONG five months. If it was up to me, I’d have sex with Kain right here on the studio floor, but it’s not up to me, and the unfairness of the whole thing leaves me frowning as change back into my flats and climb into my mum’s car.

“Good lesson, girls?” Mum asks as we set off for home.

“Great as always, Mrs. White!” Suriya giggles. “Our teacher even thinks we might be able to enter some competitions soon.”

“Really?” Mum asks.

“Beginner level competitions,” I clarify. “Not, like, what you see on Strictly.”

“But we’d still get to wear the proper costumes!” Suriya says. “Not sure Owen would be happy walking around in an open shirt, though…”

“I know Kain wouldn’t, heh!” I chuckle- though a wave of guilt immediately washes over me as I wonder whether or not Phil would be happy wearing something like that…

When I arrive back home, I eat a quick dinner of cottage pie (I always have a ready meal on Thursdays due to getting home so late) before finishing off my homework and, before going to bed, switching on my iPad- and sighing when I see that one of my notifications is a new Facebook message from Phil.

‘Hey Laura,’ the message reads. ‘It was good to talk to you again today.’ Rather than dignify the message with a response, I go to delete it- but something makes me pause before I do so.

Sure, Phil was a complete jerk, but that was two years ago. Two years ago, I was a lot less mature than I am now- though I remember part of the reason we broke up was that I was also a lot less physically mature. At the age of sixteen, I could easily pass for eighteen, but when I was fourteen, I could easily pass for ten, and I know that Phil was embarrassed to be seen with me. There’d definitely be no such embarrassment now- and I know that Phil would never be embarrassed about being seen with a transgendered girl. He wouldn’t dare, considering who his sister’s friends are. And he IS sixteen, so if he 'bulged' like Kain did, there’d be literally nothing stopping us from ‘acting on it’…

‘Thanks,’ I type in reply, before closing the chat window. Before I switch off my iPad, however, my eyes flit over to the list of online users, and I’m reminded of something else Phil said when I see that one of the names online is ‘Nikki Phillips-Thomas’.

‘Hi Nikki,’ I type with a smiling emoji. ‘Thanks again for coming yesterday.’

‘Anything for my ‘little sister’,’ Nikki replies with a winking emoji. ‘Aren’t you up late for a school night?’ I giggle as I respond with a ‘sticking out tongue’ emoji, which earns a ‘grinning’ one in response.

‘Just about to head to bed,’ I reply. ‘Anyway it’s Friday tomorrow so whatever.’

‘Lol,’ Nikki types with a ‘winking’ emoji. ‘What can I do for you, Laura? You wouldn’t have messaged me this late if you didn’t want something.’

‘Am I that obvious?’ I reply with a ‘crying’ emoji, which earns a ‘hugging’ one in response. ‘I did actually want something, though.’

‘Shoot,’ Nikki types with a ‘smiling’ emoji.

‘You know people at Heavenly Talent, right?’ I ask.

‘I’ve worked there for three years, I kinda should!’ Nikki replies. ‘You looking for a job?’

‘Actually I kinda am,’ I type. ‘I’m 5’ 9”, I’ve got an athletic body, I reckon I’d be a great model. I’ve already done some work modelling dancewear for Miss Fullerton this summer.’

‘And you want to go pro?’ Nikki types. ‘I reckon you could be a great model, and obviously I’m going to recommend HT as the best agency in the world, but- and I don’t mean anything by this- they don’t really hire amateurs, not anymore.’

‘Oh,’ I type as I feel my body start to deflate.

‘I can put your name forward if you want,’ Nikki types, ‘but it’ll probably be rejected immediately due to lack of experience. Not that you should take that as a ‘permanent’ no- it took me three goes before I was hired and even then it was as part of a group.’

‘It’s okay,’ I type, biting my lip to keep myself from either crying or screaming with frustration.

‘What I can do is put some work your way to try to build up your portfolio,’ Nikki types with a ‘smiling’ emoji. ‘Sarah and her friends Lauren and Ophelia are always looking for models for their assignments and whenever they put something for sale on their website. It’ll be good experience and will get you a little extra pocket money too. And you’ll get to wear loads of beautiful dresses!’ Nikki’s winking emoji makes me giggle, but I can’t help but notice that her offer pales in comparison to Phil’s…

‘I’ll think about it,’ I type.

‘The offer will always be on the table if you want it,’ Nikki types. ‘Same goes for Ashley too, though she’d need permission from her parents, but as you’re sixteen, I don’t think you will anymore.’

‘Thanks,’ I type.

‘G2G now,’ Nikki types. ‘Got to let you get to bed, and me and Sarah have got a Skype chat with our friends in America in a bit. Ttyl!’ I reply with a ‘smiling’ emoji, but inside, I’m deeply disappointed at Nikki’s ‘offer’- the Heavenly Talent ‘family’ is extremely close-knit, as I know from what Phil said and the stories I’ve heard from Ricky’s girlfriend. I thought I was considered a part of this family, what with all the time I’ve been invited to ‘events’ like the Sunday Globe photoshoot, or to one of Miss Fullerton’s private ballet lessons, but obviously I’m not. But that doesn’t mean I can’t ‘jump to the front of the queue’. And after all, all Phil wants is to talk to me, to be friends again. Well, for now, anyway…

I keep my ‘dilemma’ to myself throughout Friday, which is thankfully quieter than the rest of the week with no lunchtime clubs or after-school clubs. As I go to leave school at the end of the day, though, I catch myself unconsciously hiking my skirt higher before meeting up with Kain for our traditional ‘goodbye kiss’- and his firm grab of my left buttock as I head to mum’s car does nothing to solve my dilemma.

“Big day tomorrow!” Mum says as I slide onto the passenger seat of her car. “Your big ‘sweet sixteen’, hehe!”

“Yep!” I say, trying my best to sound enthusiastic.

“Ah…” Mum sighs tiredly. “I know THAT voice… What’s wrong, Laura?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” I lie. “Just tired, you know? Been a long week…”

“Is everything okay with Kain?” Mum asks.

“Sure,” I shrug. “Would you prefer there to be a problem there?”

“No, no I wouldn’t,” mum responds, anger seeping into her voice. “You said yourself that Kain’s a decent boy, and he is, even if he is a bit… ‘Touchy’.”

“I have a body that boys like to touch,” I shrug. “And the only boy who isn’t going to be ‘touchy’ like that is one with no arms!”

“Well- yes, that is true,” mum concedes. “And I will admit, there are much worse options. That little shit who broke your heart two years ago, for starters.” God above, do you read minds? I think to myself, stealthily rolling my eyes.

“Yep,” I say. “Kain’s utterly devoted to me, so no danger there!”

“Just as long as you don’t take advantage of that devotion and break HIS heart,” mum says.

“As if I would,” I mumble as we head to Lily’s school to pick her up before heading home.

After a quick dinner, I head upstairs to strip off my school uniform for the last time this week before tying my hair back into a severe bun and changing into the pink tights and skin-tight black leotard that make up my ballet uniform. Naturally, I have a grin on my face as I greet my six fellow ballerinas at the dance studio, and I try my hardest as always (even if I do sometimes have to remember that I’m not salsaing tonight), and I offer a round of applause for Melissa as she performs her ‘birthday routine’ for the class. All throughout the evening, however, I’m distracted by the dilemma that faces me- and when I head into the changing rooms after the lesson, it becomes immediately apparent that I’m not going to get any rest from the dilemma.

“Hey Laura,” Nicole says cautiously as I sit down next to her. “Saw you talking to Phil last night…”

“Yep, unfortunately,” I sigh.

“’Cause you- you seemed to be talking a lot,” Nicole mumbles. “When Mrs. Ingram sent you off to talk to him…”

“Oh- seriously, we were only rehearsing, nothing more,” I say. “You don’t want him back, do you?”

“Eww, no way!” Nicole sneers. “He’s a creep! I just- I just, you know, hope you don’t want him back either…”

“Trust me, she doesn’t,” Suriya says with a giggle as she unties her jet black bun. “You obviously didn’t see Laura’s face while she was rehearsing with Phil. I thought she was going to skin him with her eyes alone!”

“…I definitely tried,” I say, exchanging a giggle with my two friends.

“And you should’ve seen her face when she was dancing with Kain at Latin class!” The Indian girl squeaks excitedly. “Though I’ll be honest, Kain’s face was a lot more excited… As was another part of his anatomy, hehe!”

“Oh, you two are SO going to be glued together when he turns sixteen!” Nicole teases as my cheeks start to redden.

“Can we change the topic, please?” I plead. “Everyone looking forward to tomorrow?”

“A day of pampering, girliness and fun?” Mia giggles. “Who ISN’T looking forward to it?”

“I know I am!” Ashley giggles, sighing as she removes her pointe shoes. “PLEASE tell me we’ll be getting pedicures tomorrow?”

“Mum says we’ll be getting pampered literally from our head to our toes,” I explain. “So yeah, I’d say we are!”

“Just as long as your lipstick doesn’t all get rubbed off on Kain’s mouth!” Harriet teases, making me roll my eyes.

“Better Kain’s mouth than any other part of his body!” Suriya says with a devilish wink.

“Better Kain’s mouth than anyone else’s mouth!” Nicole teases, giggling as I give her a playful shove.

The teasing continues unabated, and it actually comes as a relief when mum arrives to take me home, though my relief is short-lived when I switch on my iPad to find a notification from the last person I was hoping to see.

‘Hi Laura,’ the message- from Phil, obviously- reads. ‘You doing anything tonight?’

‘Was at ballet,’ I reply as I sit down cross-legged on my bed.

‘Cool,’ Phil immediately replies, making me cringe- I’m obviously not going to get out of this conversation quickly and politely, and I want to stay polite to Phil if I have any chance of taking him up on his Heavenly Talent offer…

‘You been up to much?’ I type.

‘Just finishing homework,’ Phil replies. ‘My sister’s asked me to babysit tonight as she’s going on a traditional Angels night out.’

‘Asked YOU to babysit?’ I reply with a devilish smirk. ‘Isn’t babysitting usually a ‘girl’ thing?’ I hesitate before sending the message, debating whether or not to add a ‘winking’ emoji- but in the end, I add the emoji, which earns a ‘laughing’ one from Phil in return.

‘It’s actually my parents who are babysitting,’ Phil types with an ‘embarrassed’ emoji. ‘I’m on nappy duty for a bit of extra pocket money.’

‘Elbow deep in shit?’ I type. ‘Serves you right!’ Fortunately, my ‘sticking out tongue’ emoji gets a ‘laughing’ one in reply.

‘I’m also on cuddle duty,’ Phil types, attaching a selfie of himself with the tiny giggling baby in his other arm.

‘Destiny is SO cute,’ I type. ‘How old is she?’

‘Eight months,’ Phil replies. ‘Viks is still a nervous wreck every time she leaves her lol.’

‘Where’s her dad, then?’ I ask.

‘Busy working,’ Phil replies. ‘Her dad’s the manager of Heavenly Talent! Told you I was connected.’ I roll my eyes at Phil’s ‘winking’ emoji, but I inadvertently end up letting out a giggle anyway.

‘Her dad is where she gets her skin colour from?’ I ask.

‘Yep,’ Phil replies. ‘Thought you knew the history of the Benedict family? I’m sure you met Jon while we were going out…’

‘That was a long time ago,’ I remind the sixteen year old boy. ‘Just took a while to put it together in my head. And her dark skin makes her even cuter!’

‘I think so too,’ Phil types with a ‘smiling’ emoji. ‘You say you just got back from ballet? Is Krystie back yet?’

‘Miss Fullerton?’ I ask with a ‘sticking out tongue’ emoji. ‘Think she’s back in January. Mademoiselle Renou’s been doing all the classes though she has some help sometimes.’

‘You know she’s engaged to a transgendered woman?’ Phil asks, making me roll my eyes again. If he’s trying to impress me, he’s not succeeding…

‘Yes, I’ve met Miss Briggs,’ I type. ‘She’s helped out a few times in class. Did YOU know that she’s never taken any female hormones, but is girly and gorgeous anyway?’

‘She can’t look too good in her leotard then,’ Phil retorts.

‘She’s not ‘obvious’ if that’s what you mean,’ I type.

‘I bet you look better,’ Phil types, making me giggle girlishly as I slip off my bed and head over to my mirror to take a selfie.

‘Judge for yourself,’ I type, attaching the selfie. Naturally, I’m almost buzzing with excitement when Phil’s reply is a ‘drooling’ emoji, but before I can type another message, a voice in the back of my head reminds me of a simple fact that I’d somehow forgotten- that I have a boyfriend, and that boyfriend most definitely is NOT Phil Brooks.

“Oh- oh shit,” I whisper aloud.

‘You’re looking hottttttttt!’ Phil types with a ‘sunglasses’ emoji that actually makes me groan.

‘Thanks,’ I type. ‘G2G now, long day tomorrow.’

‘Okay,’ Phil types. ‘Talk soon? I can still put in that word to Jon if you want.’

‘Sure,’ I type. ‘Bye!’

‘Ttyl!’ Phil types with a smiling emoji that makes me sigh as I log out of Facebook and switch off my iPad. I try to control my churning stomach as I lay back on my bed and silently curse myself over how easily I fell for Phil’s charms, how easily I was seduced- almost literally- by the sixteen year old boy.

But the fact remains, though, that he obviously likes me, he can ‘connect’ me to people who would give my dreams of being an actress a MASSIVE boost, he’s good-looking- he’s literally a male model, for god’s sake- he’s very self-confident, he’s gentle, as the picture of him with his niece proves… He’s, in many ways, ‘superior’ to my current boyfriend. And he’s already sixteen, so there’s nothing holding us back from being physical with each other- not even my ‘genetics’. And yet, if I did dump Kain, I know he’d never forgive me, nor would my friends, or my family… And I have to admit, I’d never be able to forgive myself either.

I put all thoughts of boys out of my mind- which takes a hell of a lot of doing at the best of times- as I climb into bed, getting an early night ahead of tomorrow’s festivities. Fortunately, when I wake up, my head is a lot clearer- and when I step outside my bedroom to see the landing lined with neon pink balloons, all my anxieties suddenly disappear.

“There’s the birthday girl!” Mum giggles as I walk downstairs, my cheeks starting to redden. “Well, birthday plus three days, anyway!”

“Wednesday was always the worst day of the week to have a birthday,” Sean chuckles. “Especially one like your sixteenth! Fortunately, this Saturday will more than make up for it, heh!”

“So get your breakfast down you quick,” mum says, shoving two slices of toast and a cup of sweet-smelling coffee under my nose. “Your brother will be arriving to take you to the salon in half an hour!”

“Okay, I- wait, Ricky’s taking me to the salon?” I ask.

“Yep,” mum says with a proud smile.

“…RICKY,” I repeat. “Is taking ME, to the SALON?”

“Told you,” Sean says with a smug grin, making me roll my eyes. “Ricky will be driving you, but technically the salon visit is on his girlfriend.”

“A- Alice?” I ask, as a light bulb suddenly switches on in my brain. Phil isn’t the only person with a family member- well, sort-of, anyway- who has an ‘in’ with Heavenly Talent…

“Yep!” Mum says proudly. “The salon’s owned by her boss, so we can get friend and family rates.”

“AND jump the queue on a Saturday!” Sean chuckles. “So go on, get dressed, something casual. We’ll bring your outfit to change into once they’ve done your hair and make-up.”

“Wait- I’m changing at the salon?” I ask. “Why, exactly?”

“You’ll see,” mum says with a smug grin. “Now go, on, get dressed!” I nod my head and do as mum says, pulling on a plain long-sleeved top, a pair of black tights and a denim miniskirt, before heading down to Sean’s car.

My jaw drops when we arrive at the beauty salon and I see exactly what mum and Sean- and Ricky and Alice, of course- have lined up for me today. Unlike the salons I’ve been to in the past, this one is like a palace, with lots of bright, shiny fittings and decorations lining the wall, and a marble-like floor- and, most importantly, photos of the Angels and Out of Heaven (and other Heavenly Talent acts) on each wall. All around me, my seven friends are already receiving manicures, pedicures and numerous other luxury beauty treatments, and I giggle nervously as I’m directed toward my plush chair and the grinning beautician who’s stood beside it.

“Hi!” The short girl- whose blonde hair contrasts sharply with her over-tanned skin- says with exaggerated enthusiasm. “I’m Georgie, and I’ll be working with you today!”

“Hi!” I say with a nervous giggle as I sit down and the beautician immediately starts washing my long blonde tresses.

“So, you’re the birthday girl, eh?” Georgie asks with a giggle.

“Well- three days ago, but yeah!” I chuckle. “This place looks SO amazing.”

“OMG it totally is!” Georgie squeaks, making me frown with confusion as she says the acronym out loud. “Like, I started working here in September after I finished college, which was just SO boring, but my boyfriend’s sister is one of the Angels, so she spoke to the manager, and now here I am!”

“You- you’re going out with one of the Angels’ brothers?” I ask, immediately wondering whether or not Phil is up to his old tricks.

“Uh- uh-huh,” Georgie says. “Krystie Fullerton’s little brother. Well, he’s not ‘little’, if you get what I mean, hehe!” Seriously? I think to myself. When you know I’m under eighteen?

“Right…” I say.

“’Cause he’s, like, six foot three,” Georgie clarifies, making me breathe a sigh of relief. THAT was something I did NOT want to chat about with a beautician, of all people…

“So, like, Marl- that’s his name, Marley- spoke to Krystie, who spoke to Josh Benedict, and, like, here I am?” Georgie continues.

“That easy?” I ask, genuinely interested in Georgie’s story.

“Uh- uh-huh,” Georgie says. “I mean, like, I’d LOVE to be a model, but, like, it’s SO much work, and, like, I’ve got this qualify-ation thingy so, like, I might as well use it, right?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Like, if you’ve got a connection to someone rich and famous, you use that too?”

“Uh- uh-huh!” Georgie giggles. Sweet, I think to myself. I can ask Alice, get my ‘in’ and I won’t ever have to talk to Phil bloody Brooks ever again…

After my hair is washed, shortened by a few inches (but not TOO many) and styled into a fashionable, flowing wave, I’m given a full pedicure followed by a manicure, with my long, tapered nails being reshaped and coated in a deep red polish. Last but not least is my make-up. My face is covered in a glossy foundation, and thick, heavy fake eyelashes are weaved into my real ones. Dark eyeliner comes next, followed by a glittery bronze eyeshadow and a very deep red lipstick that leaves me looking as girly and glamorous as any of the Angels and celebrities whose images adorn the wall of the salon. Georgie is just putting the finishing touches on my lips when one of the women from the pictures enters the salon and makes a beeline straight for me.

“Aww,” Alice giggles in her thick north-eastern accent. “You look SO gorgeous, hehe!”

“Thanks!” I giggle, trying my hardest not to get too emotional and therefore ruin my expensive make-up. “Thank you SO much for this, this is SO cool!”

“Ah, anything for my little sister, hehe!” Alice giggles. “And besides, I kinda get mates’ rates!”

“Do- do you two know each other?” Georgie asks.

“I should do,” Alice says. “I’ve been going out with her brother for the last six months!”

“OMG that is so cool!” Georgie squeaks. “Like, Alice can set you up with Josh Benedict too!”

“Yeah, if only it was THAT easy, heh,” Alice chuckles nervously as I feel my heart sink. “I mean, I can ASK, like, but- ehh… If you had a little more experience you’d be in a better position to, like, get a modelling contract- that is what you were talking about, right?”

“Umm, kinda,” I mumble.

“…Well it’s not like you can’t get the experience,” Alice shrugs. “When you get home I’ll fish out a few contacts for you, there’s loads of work for amateur models in London if you know where to look for it, and lucky for you, your big sister does, hehe! I know Nikki’s wife and her uni mates have been looking for models for their projects recently, maybe you could hook up with them?”

“Maybe,” I say, wondering whether or not the universe is desperate for me to get back together with Phil- and how truthful he was being about his 'in' with Heavenly Talent...

“But today,” Alice says with a giggle, “you can stop worrying about work, and start thinking about fun, hehe! So come on, we’ve cleared out the back room for you to get changed.”

“Why am I getting changed again?” I ask as I’m led to the storage room, where my friends are already stripping off their clothes and placing them in plastic bags that have been supplied for us. At Alice’s urging, I do the same, and much to my surprise, so does she, before reaching into a garment bag and producing a truly stunning-looking gold-coloured evening-style dress.

“That dress is GORGEOUS,” Megan gushes as Alice steps into it and I help zip it shut.

“Aye, it is,” Alice giggles. “Now look in your bags.” The eight of us do as we’re told, before all simultaneously gasping as we discover equally beautiful dresses in our garment bags, along with gorgeous (and somewhat painful-looking) high-heeled shoes and designer handbags to match each dress.

“Oh my god!” Nicole squeaks as she holds her dark red dress against her body. “Thank you so much!”

“Now just so you know,” Alice says, “these are rentals, just for today. I kinda nicked them from the Heavenly Talent offices and they will be expecting them back in one piece- the shoes too, I’m afraid. Well, apart from mine of course, heh!”

“Oh- okay,” Ashley mumbles.

“And apart from yours, birthday girl!” Alice giggles, giving me a tight hug as I inspect my new dress, my hands shaking with excitement.

The dress is made of a very soft, shimmering bronze-coloured fabric that feels amazing against my fingers and will no doubt feel even more incredible against my skin. The skirt is floor-length, but has a high slit up one side that will show off a lot of leg, and is low-cut enough to show off just the tiniest bit of cleavage, while the thin straps of the dress will show off virtually all of my smooth, slender arms once I’ve got it on- and naturally, I waste no time in doing just that, giggling as I’m also helped into my fancy high-heeled shoes that elevate me to almost the same height as Megan!

“Wow,” I breathe as I do a twirl in my new dress to the delight of my friends. “This is AMAZING. Thank you so, so much!”

“Don’t thank me just yet,” Alice says with a sly grin. “Amazing is just getting started, hehe! Now come on, don’t want to keep them waiting!”

“What- in these dresses?” Megan asks nervously.

“You didn’t get a makeover and a new dress just to hide away in a cupboard!” Alice laughs. “We’re gorgeous women, we’ve got to show the world that!” Nervously- thanks both to the height of my heels and stepping outside in such a ‘grown-up’ dress- I follow Alice back through the salon and out the front entrance, where, much to my shock and delight, two very fancy black limousines are waiting for us.

“Oh my god!” Priya exclaims. “It’s just like prom!”

“It’s LIKE prom,” Alice says as a smartly-dressed man jumps out of the limousine and holds the door open for us. “But it’s much, much better!” Trembling with excitement, I climb into the back seat of the limo and am soon joined by Megan, Ashley and finally Alice, who surprises the three of us by taking four champagne glasses and a glass bottle from the limo’s fridge.

“…You DO know we’re, like, not eighteen yet?” Megan asks. “Ashley’s not even FIFteen yet!”

“Thanks,” my fellow transgendered girl says to my blushing BFF.

“That’s why this is lemonade instead of champagne,” Alice giggles. “I’m going out with your brother, Laura, don’t want your mum pissed off at me, do I? I especially don’t want that from either of your grandmas!”

“…It’ll do,” I giggle, clinking my glass of fizzy drink with my friends as the limo moves away.

Unsurprisingly, the limo’s destination is my home, but what is surprising is the décor when we arrive- the balloons are streamers are back on the front gate, but leading up to it is a long, fancy red carpet, and the second I step onto the carpet, I’m ambushed by the flashbulbs of numerous ‘paparazzi’- though one of the camerawomen does look familiar.

“Come on, give us a pose!” Jacinta giggles as she takes her pictures, and I happily oblige, alternating between smiling and pouting as I place one hand on my hip and clutch my tiny handbag in the other.

Hundreds and hundreds of photos are taken of me as I coolly and (despite my extra-high heels) elegantly stride down the carpet, before arriving at a cardboard backdrop, similar to the ones you find at celebrity functions or award ceremonies, covered in the logos of various ‘sponsors’. These ‘sponsors’, though, are merely the logos of Heavenly Talent, the Angels, out of Heaven… And a specially designed logo featuring an ‘X’ and an ‘8’.

“Welcome to the sweetest sweet sixteen of all time!” Mum says, making me blush as she photographs me in front of the ‘sponsor board’.

“Thanks,” I mumble.

“Couldn’t think of anything more appropriate than a ‘celebrity’ theme for my superstar daughter!” Mum giggles. “Though you will have to thank your brother and his girlfriend as well!”

“Oh- believe me, I will!” I giggle as I turn to allow mum to photograph every angle of my beautiful dress- and, as I’m quickly reminded, my beautiful face!

Eventually, I step aside to make way for Alice and the rest of my ‘excellent eight’, as well as my family (including a very excited-looking Lily), and I’m about to head into my house when, much to my surprise, a third limo pulls up, and several very familiar, very smartly-dressed young men step out, each one looking increasingly uncomfortable as they’re photographed by the ‘paparazzi’. I bite my lip and giggle excitedly as one of the young men approaches me and gives me a soft, gentle kiss on my lips.

“Hey,” Kain whispers, seemingly ignoring my giggle that my heels have made me the same height as him!

“Hi,” I coo. “You look HOT!”

“Yeah, it is a bit warm,” Kain says, before chuckling with embarrassment. “…Thanks. You look REALLY beautiful, Laura.”

“Thanks,” I reply quietly, giving Kain another kiss- that the ‘paparazzi’ eagerly photograph- before linking my fingers with him and heading into our living room, which has been turned into an impromptu ‘reception room’ with tables filled with drinks and trays of finger food dotting the sides.

Naturally, I hang off of Kain for most of the ‘party’, even though I do make a point of mingling and speaking with everyone. Well, mostly the girls, and by ‘speaking’ I of course mean ‘comparing dresses’! Eventually, though, we’re ushered out of the room temporarily while the boys set up some chairs, and when we return, the ‘reception room’ has turned into a mini-cinema with rows of seats and a projector pointed at the front of the room. Obviously, I take a seat on the front row of chairs, alongside Kain and the rest of my family, while mum stands at the front- and even before she’s opened her mouth, I start to cringe, knowing what’s coming next.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,” mum announces. “Sixteen years- and three days- ago, I gave birth to a beautiful little baby.”

“You gave this speech three days ago,” I moan, earning giggles from the crowd and a playful sigh from my mother.

“Not THIS one, I didn’t,” mum retorts, chuckling as I playfully roll my made-up eyes. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, sixteen years ago I gave birth to a beautiful blue-eyed baby. If you’d told me then what she’d be like when she turned sixteen, well, for obvious reasons, I would have had my doubts.” THAT’S as subtle as you could make it? I think to myself. “However,” mum continues, “if you were to tell me that she would have such an amazing group of friends, and be such a talented, intelligent and- on rare occasion- mature young woman, then I would have considered my job as a mother to have been a success.”

“Definitely more successful than your first kid,” I say, giggling as I feel a hard kick in the back of my chair from my brother!

“So here’s to you, my brilliant daughter,” mum says. “Normally at this point, I’d show a slideshow of photos from throughout Laura’s life, but as I’m sure you can all appreciate, photos from when Laura was at primary school wouldn’t really be appropriate. But that’s okay, because I’ve had the chance to take several over the last four years!”

I immediately bury my face in my hands and squeal with embarrassment as photos of my younger self appear on the screen- photos of me after my first ballet class, the first photo taken of me in my secondary school uniform, photos of me in school plays, in gymnastics competitions, at dance recitals… And, worst of all, the photo taken of me in my dress before my first date at Phil’s house. Obviously mum forgot the context of THAT photo. What mum hasn’t forgotten, sadly, is the video of the fashion show she held for my twelfth birthday party, and squeals of embarrassment immediately come from Priya, Suriya, Nicole and Megan as images of their younger selves appear on the screen.

Fortunately, that ritual humiliation comes to an end shortly afterward, though once the video ends, I and my friends are ushered back out to the red carpet for yet more ritual humiliation, as we’re made to stroll up and down it whilst being photographed, just as we had been four years ago.

“Ah,” Alice giggles as I stroll down the runway and, once again, pose and pout for the cameras. “Reckon we’ve got a few future supermodels among us today, hehe!” Not without professional representation, I think to myself, but I keep a smile on my face as I watch my friends take their turn on the catwalk- especially Harriet, Mia and Ashley, who weren’t at my twelfth birthday party, but will definitely be at every single one of my parties from now on.

After one final group photo of the eight of us in our fancy dresses, my friends head into my bedroom and the bathroom to change back into their street clothes, before heading outside and waiting for their lifts home. Sadly, this also includes Kain- his suit may be more practical than our fancy dresses, and as it already belongs to him, he doesn’t need to change out of it, but he’s still picked up by his parents shortly after my friends leave. Obviously, I don’t let him leave without one final kiss- and as with at our Latin class, I can quite easily ‘feel’ how excited this makes him!

“See you Monday,” I whisper to the tall boy as I wrap my arms around his neck.

“See you,” Kain replies, giving me one more kiss before getting into his parents’ car, which I wave off before heading back into the suddenly very empty house.

“That was AMAZING,” I say as I dramatically flop onto the sofa, still wearing my fancy dress and heels. “Thank you all so, so much.”

“Ah, you’re very welcome,” Sean chuckles. “Gonna have a hard time topping this for Lily’s sweet sixteen. In 2023, heh!”

“And you can always thank us by changing back into your casual clothes and giving us a hand tidying up!” Mum says, making me chuckle and playfully roll my eyes.

“With these nails?” I ask, showing off my expensive manicure.

“You’ll have to take the polish off for school on Monday,” mum retorts. “Now come on, hop to it!”

“I note Ricky didn’t stick around to help clean up,” I scoff.

“Ricky doesn’t live here,” mum retorts. “You do. Chop chop!” I chuckle as I slip my heels off and jump off the sofa, before heading up to my bedroom to change out of my beautiful, expensive dress and back into the top and skirt I wore to the salon.

Before I head downstairs, I remember to plug in my iPad to charge it up, having nearly drained the battery last night, but as I do so, an unexpected notification pops up on the screen- ‘Phil Brooks has sent you a new message’. I let out a loud groan at the sight of the notification and put my iPad back on my dresser, but as I head downstairs, I grow increasingly curious as to what the message says. By the time I’ve finished helping mum, Sean and Lily tidy everything away, it’s taking all of my willpower not to sprint back upstairs and reply to Phil’s message- which makes me feel especially guilty when I do so, only to find the message has been bumped by other notifications, with one in particular drawing my attention.

‘Jacinta Hanley tagged you in a photo album’ is what the notification says, and when I unlock it, I sigh as I see a collection of photos from today of me on the red carpet, the most prominent picture being one of me and Kain kissing each other deeply. The one consolation is that Phil is friends with Jacinta too, so he’ll have access to the photos as well- and knowing the way he’s been the past few days, ever since we chatted at rehearsals, there’s no way he won’t have seen the pictures. I have s smug smirk on my face as I log into messenger and read the message that’s been left for me.

‘Hi Laura,’ Phil’s message reads. ‘Hope today goes well. I’ve talked to Viks and asked her if she can get you an interview with Heavenly Talent and she said it’s definitely possible if you’re still interested.’ I roll my eyes at the last part of the message- before even waiting for me to message him back, he’s pushed the one button he knows will get a reaction from me. Then again, with Nikki and Alice both denying me, he IS my only way in with Heavenly Talent… But then again, if it wasn’t for him putting the idea in my head, I probably wouldn’t be as obsessed as am I right now…

‘Hi Phil,’ I type. ‘Had a great day today. Seen the pictures?’ Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take long for Phil’s reply to come through.

‘Yeah,’ the sixteen year old boy says. ‘You looked really hot today.’

‘Thanks,’ I reply, giggling out loud and immediately chastising myself for doing so.

‘The party was Alice’s idea, right?’ Phil asks.

‘Yep,’ I reply, smirking devilishly as I type my next message. Way to dig your own grave, Brooks… ‘You’re not the only one related to an Angel! And I talked to her about getting HT representation, she reckons I’d need more experience first.’

‘Alice isn’t as well connected as I am,’ Phil types.

“Ugh,” I groan aloud. “Is that bullshit I smell?”

‘She IS an Angel,’ I type.

‘My brother-in-law’s the manager of the agency,’ Phil retorts. ‘All I need to do is ask him.’ Despite my best efforts, I find myself again being tempted by his offer.

‘And YOU are really going to influence him?’ I ask.

‘I got myself a contract,’ Phil types.

‘And how much modelling work have you done?’ I ask. Now THIS is the big question…

‘I’ve done some,’ Phil types.

‘Do you have any links to any of the work you’ve done?’ I ask.

‘Not right now,’ Phil replies, making me roll my eyes.

‘It’s okay, I can wait while you find a link,’ I reply, hoping that my smugness isn’t too obvious.

‘Hang on,’ Phil types. I take a deep breath in the conversation, during which I lay back on my bed and silently groan at how easily I was taken in by Phil’s bullshit. He knows I want to be famous. He knows I idolise the Angels, and he had absolutely no problem playing on that for whatever reason. To get into my pants? I should be flattered, but instead, I’m revolted. Never mind five months, I’d rather wait five YEARS for Kain than jump straight into bed with a liar and a manipulator like Phil. Then again, if he HAS done genuine model work, and if he ISN’T lying…

I let out a long sigh as my iPad beeps to inform me of a new Facebook message, but when I check it, I see it isn’t from the wannabe Casanova- who is taking a VERY long time finding a picture to show to me- but from one of the young women who made my actual birthday three days ago so special.

‘Hi Laura!’ Nikki types with a ‘grinning’ emoji. ‘Saw the photos from today, you looked SO gorgeous! Sarah’s actually a little jealous as it’s her 21st in just over a week and she would’ve LOVED that theme. Never mind the fact that she’s been on plenty of red carpets before!’ I giggle at the ‘winking’ emoji Nikki adds to the end of her message.

‘Thanks!’ I reply. ‘Had such a great day today. And I won’t mind if Sarah wants to copy me.’ Fortunately, my own ‘winking’ emoji earns a ‘laughing’ on in response.

‘You can tell her that tomorrow, if you want,’ Nikki types, confusing me. ‘I’ve had a word with her and the other uni girls and they’d be happy to put some modelling work your way if you want. Obviously we can’t offer any underwear or swimwear work but they’ve got an armful of bespoke dresses that need someone to wear them if you’re interested.’

‘I’d love to!’ I type, barely containing my excitement. ‘What time do you want me to be there?’

‘Whenever’s convenient for you,’ Nikki types. ‘Just give me a shout and I’ll come and pick you up. Reckon the whole thing will take about 2 or 3 hours, will £40 be okay? It’s a lot higher than national minimum wage for a 16 year old.’ I giggle at Nikki’s joke, and her ‘sticking out tongue’ emoji, before replying.

‘Sounds great!’ I type. ‘Will noon be okay?’

‘I’ll let Sarah know now,’ Nikki types with a ‘happy’ emoji. I spend the next fifteen seconds literally buzzing with excitement, before being brought back down to Earth by Phil’s long-overdue reply to my request.

‘Here,’ Phil types, attaching a picture of him modelling a designer t-shirt in front of a white background. On closer examination, however, it’s very obvious that the background is in fact a bedsheet, and just visible underneath Phil is a patch of carpet, which looks suspiciously like the same carpet he has in his bedroom.

‘That’s the photo?’ I type.

‘Yep,’ Phil replies. ‘Did it for a new clothing firm a few months ago.’

‘When you were fifteen?’ I ask, sighing as I know just as well as Phil does that Heavenly Talent has a strict no under-16s policy.

‘I meant last month,’ Phil corrects himself, making me groan loudly. ‘So do you want to meet up tomorrow, maybe get a coffee, I can pass your details onto Jonathan?’

‘I’ll think about it,’ I type, before immediately composing another message. ‘I’ve thought about it. NO.’

‘I thought you wanted to be famous?’ Phil types. ‘I’m your best chance of that happening.’

‘You are so full of shit,’ I type with a smug smile on my face. ‘I’m unavailable tomorrow as I’ll be doing some actual paid modelling work, and not taking a selfie in front of a sheet in my bedroom!’

‘I AM a real model,’ Phil insists. ‘I CAN set up a meeting for you with the manager of Heavenly Talent.’

‘How many other girls have you conned by saying that?’ I type. ‘Do you even have a modelling contract with them?’

‘I have a contract with them,’ Phil types.

‘And how many actual modelling jobs have you done?’ I ask.

‘None yet,’ Phil types. His message contains a lot more words than those two, but I choose to ignore them, having learned all I need to.

‘Thought so,’ I type. ‘Goodbye, Phil.’

‘Suit yourself,’ Phil types. ‘Dunno why I’d want to go out with a fat transvestite anyway.’

‘Fuck you, cunt,’ I type before logging out of messenger and immediately blocking Phil from my account- something I should’ve done when I unfriended him two years ago. I lay back on my bed as I try to let my frustration and anger at the teenaged arsehole wash over me, but his final words stick in my mind.

‘Fat’. ‘Transvestite’. The two words that have haunted me the most over the last four years, words Phil knows hurt me far more than any swear word. The odd thing is, though, I don’t know which one hurts the most, as both of them are very obviously incorrect. When I look at my body in the mirror, the only ‘expanded’ bits are on my chest, and to a lesser extent, my hips and my bottom. My stomach is flat and taut, and I don’t own a single piece of clothing that has a size larger than ‘10’ (and even then those clothes feel baggy on me). I have a boyfriend who can barely control himself when he’s around me, and several others at school who clearly lust over me. Even Phil himself compared me to Hannah Dexter- who the lads’ mags usually put in the top 5 of their ‘world’s sexiest women’ lists- just a few days ago. I have no reason, none whatsoever, to believe that I am anything other than a fit and sexy young woman.

One thing’s for certain, though, is that I do suddenly feel a lot heavier and a lot less feminine than I have done in a very long time…

I try my hardest to put these thoughts out of my head for the rest of the evening, and especially the following day when Nikki’s car pulls up to take me to ‘my photoshoot’.

“Hey Laura!” Nikki giggles as I climb onto the back seat behind her wife.

“Hey,” I reply. “Thanks for, you know, letting me do this.”

“No, thank you!” Sarah- Nikki’s wife- giggles. “Not that I don’t already have a supremely girly and gorgeous model who usually begs me to let her wear my clothes, but she said that you were looking for a little extra work and, well, you’re 5’ 9”, as girly as it’s possible to get and you don’t have an ounce of fat anywhere on your body, so I’d be daft not to say ‘yes’!”

“Thanks,” I mumble, Sarah’s words resonating against what I was told last night. “Did- did you, you know, umm, talk to Phil Brooks?”

“Phil Brooks?” Nikki asks. “Viks’s creepy little brother?” Despite myself, I’m forced to let out a loud giggle at the unflattering- but very accurate- description.

“Don’t think I’ve ever spoken to him,” Sarah muses. “He’s the same age as you, right?”

“About a month older,” I say.

“Nope, pretty sure I’ve never really interacted with him,” Sarah says.

“Lucky you,” I snort, sighing as Sarah looks at me confusedly. “…Ex-boyfriend.”

“Say no more,” Sarah sighs. “You were a fan of the Teen Angels, weren’t you? Think I remember Nikki saying something about meeting you before?”

“We’ve met a few times before,” I reply. “Think the Sunday Globe thing was the last time. And yes, I liked the Teen Angels, and yes, I recognise you as well, heh. Though I do follow your Instagram too.”

“Ah, my sexy, famous wife!” Nikki giggles. “You’ll meet two other members of the Teen Angels today as well, Katie and Lauren.”

“The only other GOOD members,” Sarah snorts. “Trust me, you are NOT missing anything by not meeting Dannii bloody Samson!”

“Especially if the rumours are true,” Nikki clarifies. “But yeah, you’re definitely doing Sarah and the girls a favour, none of us are blonde, for starters, so we might be putting a bit more work your way soon as well!”

“Cool!” I squeak.

“It’s about time our ‘family’ had another ‘little sister’,” Nikki says, giving me a sense of great contentment. “Trust me when I say, Laura- your life is going to get a lot more fun from this point onward!”

I giggle happily at Nikki’s reassurance as the car heads back to her and her wife’s tiny flat where, as promised, I spent the afternoon trying on several gorgeous hand-made dresses while being photographed for Nikki’s wife’s website and her university dissertation. So I’m not a superstar now. Big deal. Most girls don’t become world-famous days after their sixteenth birthday anyway.

And I don’t have a sex life yet. Again- big deal. Most girls don’t lose their virginity on their sixteenth birthday. Okay, a lot of them lose it BEFORE their sixteenth birthday, but I’m not one of THOSE girls, and I’m NOT going to take advantage of my underage boyfriend, no matter how ‘ready’ he may be. He certainly likes the photos that are taken of me today, especially after Sarah insisted that I keep on his bracelet, which all of the older girls cooed over when I explained the story behind it. The more time I spend as Kain’s girlfriend, the more I realise I am lucky to be able to call myself that.

People like Phil Brooks can simply get the fuck out of my life. I have no space for them and no need for them. I have an amazing family, the best friends in the world, a cute boyfriend, great ‘mentor’-type people in Jamie, Nikki and Jacinta, I’m getting good grades in my GCSEs and I’m now even getting paid modelling work. Nikki’s right- my life WILL only get better from now on, especially as I’ll soon be in receipt of a full dose of oestrogen.

I just wish I could stop feeling so self-conscious about my body…

"My power flurries through the air into the ground," I sing as I dramatically glide across the stage, my ice blue dress flowing around me with every step I take.

"My soul is spiraling in frozen fractals all around
And one thought crystallizes like an icy blast
I'm never going back, the past is in the past..."

"Let it go, let it go," I sing, my lungs feeling like they're going to break under the strain.
"And I'll rise like the break of dawn,
Let it go, let it go,
That perfect girl is gone.
Here I stand,
In the light of day,

Let the storm rage on…” I sing, before turning to the audience with a cold smirk on my face. “The cold never bothered me anyway…” I turn my back to the audience and slam the elaborately-painted door behind me as the stage lights lower, but I allow myself a proud grin as Mrs. Ingram (the play’s director) comes up to me with a wide smile on her face.

“Bravo, Laura!” Mrs. Ingram says. “Take a breather, grab a glass of water and get ready for the fight scene against Hans and the guards.”

“Right,” I say, before giggling as Suriya- in her Anna costume- gives me a gentle hug en route to the stage.

“Well done, ‘sis’!” Suriya giggles.

“Thanks, ‘sis’!” I squeak in reply, before frowning as I see, out of the corner of my eye, Phil Brooks walking past in his ‘Hans’ costume.

“You’re doing fine,” Suriya whispers, before heading to the wings as the stage is prepared for the next scene.

And in truth, I AM doing fine. The round of applause I was given after my rendition of ‘Let It Go’ is proof of that. The facts are that I’m one of the leads in the school play, I have the best friends in the world, an amazing family, a cute boyfriend, I’m popular at school, I’m good-looking, I’m walking all of my GCSEs and I’m even earning my own money from not one but two part-time jobs, both of which could lead to promising careers. I’m even on full oestrogen and have been for three weeks, which is making my body more and more feminine with every passing day. Not bad for a girl who, on her first day at school, was pointed and laughed at and treated like a circus freak.

And yet, I still feel anxious. My counsellor tells me that this is understandable- I’m a few months away from leaving school for the last time, after all, which will be the biggest change in my life to date- possibly even bigger than the other obvious change. My acting in front of a crowd brings with it the expected amount of stage fright, as will my next ballet recital, and literally everybody ever has had anxiety about exams, regardless of how well they’re doing at school. Logically, I know this to be true, and yet I can’t help but feel that there’s something else, something I can’t put my finger on- and the sight of my arsehole ex-boyfriend just makes it worse. Which only makes matters worse when I step back out on stage for my next scene directly opposite the boy I once thought I loved.

Thankfully, both of us are mature enough that the scene- and the rest of the play, for the matter- goes without a hitch, and at the end of the play, I return to the stage for my curtain call… And try not to grimace as Phil grabs my hand for our bow. I focus on the standing ovation we have all very much earned, rather than the person gripping my hand- a task made easier when my current boyfriend comes onstage to present me with a bouquet of flowers. I and the rest of the cast stand onstage for several minutes, soaking up the adulation, before heading backstage and breathing a collective sigh of relief.

“Bravo!” Mrs. Ingram says with a wide, proud smile on her face. “Absolutely brilliant, all of you! We’re just going to get some photos for the school newsletter, then I’m sure you’re all dying to get out of your costumes, heh!” I smile and nod, though in truth, my dress is so gorgeous- it’s an exact replica of Elsa’s ice blue dress from the film, right down to the slit up one side- that I could definitely live with wearing it for a little longer!

Eventually, though, our publicity responsibilities are done and I’m released to head back to the changing room. Despite me being one of the lead actresses, though, my changing room is still the cold, lonely store room where all the costumes are kept. Suriya and Harriet are obviously okay with me changing with them, as are their parents, but there are multiple other girls in the play, and not all are from our school, meaning that I’m isolated from my cast mates once again. However, there is a silver lining to this cloud…

“All clear?” Kain whispers as he enters the store room just over a minute after I do.

“No reason why anyone else should be in here,” I shrug. “Some will probably say you shouldn’t, either.” I smile coyly as Kain slowly shuts the door behind him, a nervous, excited grin on his lips.

“Whatever,” Kain shrugs, before approaching me and giving me a long, deep kiss, his tongue exploring parts of my mouth even my own tongue can’t reach, and his hands slowly encircling my narrow waist before-

“Am I interrupting anything?” Suriya- who has changed back into her street clothes- says from the doorway, making both Kain and I yelp with surprise.

“Nope. Nothing,” Kain says hastily. “I was- I was, umm…”

“Licking the back of Laura’s throat by the looks of it,” Suriya says with an accusing stare, before breaking into a fit of giggles. “It’s okay. I’m not going to tell anyone, hehe! I’m just here to unzip Laura out of her dress. Which you are NOT invited to stick around for!”

“Spoilsport,” I say, before giggling as the petite Indian girl replies by sticking her tongue out at me. “I’ll see you later babe, okay?”

“Okay,” Kain says, giving me another hasty kiss before practically tripping over himself in his rush to get out of the room.

“Unzip me, then,” I sigh, holding my tightly-wound braid out of the way so that Suriya can free me from my tight costume.

“Half expected it to be already unzipped,” Suriya mumbles, making me roll my eyes.

“Oh- give me a break,” I snort in reply. “It wouldn’t happen if I was allowed in the proper changing room, is it? Maybe this is a good reason why I should be…”

“You’re kind-of preaching to the choir, remember?” Suriya asks. “And I like snogging boys as much as you, I just take a little more care about it. And I’d have thought you’d be a little more careful after the ‘Scott’ incident-“

“Yes, thank you ‘mum’,” I sigh. “What’s taking so long, anyway? Don’t tell me the zip’s stuck…”

“Think the dress is just a little too tight,” Suriya says, making my stomach start to churn. “There- that’s got it.”

“Thanks,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief (and to try to shake off my nauseous feeling) as I step out of my unzipped dress and pull on the tight top, black tights and denim miniskirt I wore to the play. “And for the record, the ‘Scott thing’ was different, Scott was older than me, and you saw that Kain wasn’t copping a feel-“

“Hey, I’m on your side!” Suriya protests. “If it was up to me I’d let you and Kain fuck like rabbits in here. But it’s not, and I’d rather not have to act alongside another Elsa on Thursday! As you know that WOULD have happened if it’d been a teacher who caught you.”

“Well I didn’t get caught, did I?” I reply with a smug smile, before untying my braid and letting my long, platinum blonde hair cascade over my shoulders.

“This time,” Suriya says.

“…Okay,” I say with a shrug. “Maybe you’re not my mum so much as your sister!”

“Oh- you are so dead for that!” Suriya protests, before giggling as we both leave the ‘changing room’ and meet up with our families- though my cheeks immediately start to burn with embarrassment as mum, Sean and both my grandmothers approach me with wide, proud smiles on their faces.

“You absolute star!” Mum says, giving me a gentle, motherly hug even as I squirm.

“Mum…” I moan.

“Oh now, how can you be embarrassed when you were just up on stage?” Grandma Clarke chastises before leaning in for her own hug. “Where you were absolutely brilliant. Both of you were.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Clarke!” Suriya giggles.

“Can’t wait for Thursday’s performance!” Sean says, making me roll my eyes and giggle as he leads us out to the cark park, where I bid farewell to my ‘Anna’ with a tight hug before getting into mum’s car (my grandmothers drive themselves home) and letting out a long sigh of relief.

“That tired, eh?” Sean asks.

“Umm, yeah!” I reply.

“Just remember you still have homework to do when you get home,” mum reminds me, chuckling as I roll my eyes. “Oh, to be sixteen again, heh. On that point, I notice you didn’t talk with Kain on your way out of the school, normally the two of you can’t keep away from each other…”

“I- umm, I ran into him backstage,” I mumble. “Said goodbye to him then…”

“Both fully clothed, I hope?” Mum asks, making me scrunch up my nose in disgust.

“Mum!” I protest. “Yes, we were both fully clothed. I know the law, I know the rules, I’m not going to sneak around and do anything illegal, am I?”

“I definitely hope not,” mum says in a low, quiet voice as our car heads back toward our home.

As mum predicted, the rest of the evening is spent doing homework and chatting with my friends online (all of whom were also watching or acting in the play), before ending the evening with a shorter but more ‘intimate’ chat with my boyfriend which, along with the memory of today’s kiss, leaves my whole body tingling as I change into my nightie and climb into bed.

The ‘tingles’ are gone when I wake up the following morning, but soon return when I shower, blow-dry my hair and tie it into a high ponytail before pulling on a plain pink thong, followed by a lacy white bra and the thick black tights, stiff straight skirt and crisp white blouse that make up my school uniform. Compared to the dress I wore onstage last night, of course, the uniform is about as dull and drab as it gets. My Elsa dress is unique, I’m the only girl that’ll ever get to wear it, whereas hundreds of girls at my school alone wear this uniform- but that’s the whole point. I am just an ordinary girl every time I wear this uniform- even if I would much rather be wearing my Elsa dress!

Of course, it helps that out of the hundreds of girls who wear the same uniform I do, six are my very best friends, and all of them greet me with a tight group hug when I arrive at school the following day!

“All hail Queen Elsa!” Nicole cheers as I giggle with embarrassment. “You were SO cool last night!”

“Both of you were!” Ashley squeaks. “SO cool…”

“Thanks, girlies!” I squeak excitedly. “Can’t wait until Thursday…”

“Even if means seeing ‘you know who’ again?” Harriet asks, immediately lowering my mood- and everyone else’s mood too.

“…Whatever,” I shrug, making the other girls giggle. “Besides, he IS the bad guy, isn’t he?”

“Damn right!” Nicole giggles as I adjust the waistband of my skirt. “And at least ‘you know who’ won’t be at drama club this afternoon, hehe!”

“I knew I liked the lunchtime club a lot more than the after-school one,” I say with a giggle. “And can we please not talk about ‘him’ again for the rest of the day? We all have boyfriends that are actually good now, don’t we?”

“Those of us who don’t think that boys suck, anyway!” Harriet says with a smug grin, one that only widens as Mia gives her a firm pat on her backside as she heads off to her form session.

“…You and Mia, then?” Suriya asks as we sit down at our regular form desks (with me making sure to briefly link fingers with my boyfriend as I walk past his desk, of course!).

“Yeah, I thought you two were, like, in some kind of love triangle with Ashley?” Nicole asks.

“Triangles have three sides, don’t they?” Harriet shrugs. “Me and Mia aren’t ACTUALLY going out, but, you know…” Suriya, Nicole and I all giggle as Harriet gives us a cheeky wink, before settling down as Mr. Sheldon arrives to start the school day.

The first two lessons of the day progress as usual, and as the day goes on and I settle back into the routine of being an ordinary schoolgirl, it’s almost like I didn’t spend last night being the star of a play- but the memory of that night will take a long time to fade. As, sadly, will the memory of having Phil Brooks holding onto my hand at the end of the play…

“Hey girlies!” Suriya (who was in my last class) and I squeak as we take our seats at our regular table. “Sooo… What are we gossiping about today?”

“Somebody has become obsessed with The German Angels,” Megan explains with a grin. “Ever since their show began on Amazon…”

“I’m doing German at GCSE,” Ashley mumbles. “I watch the show for homework.” Naturally, this causes the other six of us to start giggling uncontrollably- shortly followed by Ashley herself!

“And…?” Suriya asks.

“…And for entertainment,” Ashley confesses. “And for fashion and make-up tips. And all nine of them are SERIOUSLY sexy, hehe!” I smile warmly as Ashley giggles again after her confession- after the whole ‘love triangle’ thing I’d worried that she’d been a bit down, but Ashley’s smile is I need to see to confirm that she’s feeling alright.

“I’ll stick with the English Angels for now,” Nicole says with a grin.

“Only six of whom are actually English,” Suriya reminds us.

“But all of whom are cool!” Megan giggles as I relax and immerse myself in talk of celebrities, fashion and, best of all, last night’s play- and NO talk of boys. Though I do ruin this ‘order’ slightly by linking fingers again with Kain when I pass him in the corridor en route to my next lesson!

As with my first two lessons of the day, I’m sat at my desk as just a plain, ordinary schoolgirl rather than the queen of Arendelle that I feel like inside. Once the bell rings to signal the start of lunch, however, my ‘transformation’ begins. I elegantly rise from my chair and sweep out of the classroom with a dismissive flick of my hair, before striding through the halls like a supermodel before arriving at my destination.

“All hail Queen Laura!” Mrs. Ingram says as I open the door to the school hall, making me blush while she and my cast mates all give me a loud round of applause.

“Oh, don’t feel so embarrassed,” Suriya giggles, coming over to give me a tight hug. “They gave me a standing ovation too, hehe!”

“You deserved it,” I giggle.

“Everybody in this room deserves it,” Mrs. Ingram says with a proud grin. “Last night’s performance was probably the best I’ve ever seen in my time in this school and you should all be very, very proud of yourselves. But there’s another performance on Thursday, and we need to rehearse. There are a few bits that we could all do with brushing up on- even if you’re royalty!” Suriya and I both giggle as we get our scripts out of our bags and find a private part of the hall to rehearse. Before we get there, however, my jaw drops at the sight of a VERY unexpected person walking toward us.

“K- Kain?” I ask as Suriya starts giggling uncontrollably.

“Hey babe,” Kain says nervously. “There- umm, no one from the basketball team was playing at lunch, so I thought… Yeah. Do- do you want help rehearsing?”

“That’d be great,” I reply with a girlish giggle, resisting the urge to jump into the tall boy’s arms and suckle the back of his throat.

“I’ll just sit here being a third wheel, then,” Suriya shrugs. “Remind me again which of Elsa and Anna has not one but TWO love interests over the course of the film?”

“Just means Elsa needs one then, doesn’t it?” I ask, giggling as I embarrass Kain by cuddling his arm against my chest- and giggling harder as he almost immediately needs to sit down! “Maybe a tall, handsome prince from the kingdom of ‘basketbelle’…”

“Is the basketball team REALLY not practising this lunchtime?” Suriya asks, giggling as Kain blushes and I sigh happily and tighten my hug. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone. And I know Laura won’t either, hehe!”

“Too right,” I say, before releasing Kain’s arm following a loud cough and stern stare from our teacher! “Umm, think we’d better get rehearsing…”It doesn’t take long for my smile to return, though, when Kain and I both realise that he’s sat between me and Mrs. Ingram, and she can’t see that Kain’s placed his hand on my nylon-covered thigh…

“Are you here to help us rehearse, or help yourself to your girlfriend?” Suriya asks, making my boyfriend giggle bashfully.

“Sorry,” Kain giggles, but before he can move his hand, I firmly clamp it to my leg and shoot him a look that he correctly interprets to mean ‘don’t you dare remove it’.

“…Fine,” Suriya giggles. “Remind me to guilt Tommy into rehearsing with us sometime.”

“Will do,” Kain says, making me giggle as he gives my thigh another squeeze. “Which role am I playing again?”

“You’re a troll,” I reply, smiling as I lean my head against Kain’s shoulder as he starts to speak.

“Pity this couldn’t be a dress rehearsal,” my boyfriend says, making Suriya giggle.

“Why, like dressing up as a troll?” The petite Indian girl asks.

“I think- I HOPE- Kain’s thinking about seeing me in my gorgeous blue dress, right?” I ask, playfully fluttering my eyelashes at my boyfriend.

“Yes, of course,” Kain chuckles, making me squeak with excitement. “Especially see how tight it- ow!”

“Keep your mind on the play!” Suriya says, making my boyfriend sigh as he rubs his sore shin and begins reading his line, even as I try to ignore his comment about the tightness of the dress.

Fortunately, the presence of Kain’s hand on my leg throughout the lunchtime rehearsal session keeps me in a VERY good mood, and while Mrs. Ingram isn’t looking, I steal a kiss from him before heading with Suriya to my final lesson of the day.

“Sooo…” The tiny Indian girl teases. “Should I get myself measured for a bridesmaid’s dress?”

“Oh- shut up,” I retort as I adjust the waistband of my skirt. “So I like him, whatever.”

“And you can barely keep your hands off of each other,” Suriya says with a sly grin. “I’m amazed his hand didn’t disappear under your skirt…”

“…He’d kinda be surprised if it did,” I say, making Suriya grimace.

“Would he, though?” My friend asks. “It’s been five years. You’re not ‘the transgendered girl’ anymore, Laura. You’re ‘the girl who just happens to be transgendered’. Sure, Kain doesn’t fancy you BECAUSE of that, but, you know? You are DAMNED sexy! You’ve got the legs, the boobs, the curves… So what if there’s ‘something else’?”

“…Yeah,” I say with a giggle as I stare down at the two soft mounds protruding from my chest. “You really think people have got used to it? It’d be typical, just as I’m about to leave the school…”

“Probably,” Suriya shrugs. “And even if they haven’t, your friends and your boyfriend have, and that’s what matters, right? I genuinely forgot for a second there that you weren’t ‘like me’. Not helped by the fact that you’re going to be wearing a leotard tonight that’s ‘completely smooth’, hehe!”

“Yep!” I say with a smug grin.

“How can that be comfortable, anyway?” Suriya asks. “I know I’ve asked you this before, but, like- you spend half your life in a leotard when you weren’t, you know, ‘built’ for it…”

“It’s more comfortable than you might think,” I say with a grin. “Everything’s ‘tucked away’, and god knows I’ve had practice at THAT, and what helps the most is that I know I look GOOD in it!”

“It really shows off your body, hehe!” Suriya giggles as we take our seats in our final class of the day. For better or worse… I think to myself.

As Suriya predicted, after the school day ends and after I’ve eaten dinner at home, I head up to my bedroom where I tie my long blonde hair into a tight bun, before swapping my school uniform for a pair of softy, silky pink tights, a pair of soft canvas ballet slippers and my favourite black tank leotard. As I stretch the clingy garment over my body, I’m reminded of my earlier talk with Suriya, how I wasn’t exactly ‘built’ with leotards in mind. However, it isn’t the bottom part of the leotard where I feel uncomfortable, but the waistline. The stretchy garment clings tightly to every part of my body, and although I know that's what it's supposed to do- it clings to every other girl's body, after all- every time I feel it stretch over me, it's like it's taunting me, telling me that I'll never be as petite as I want to be. I have to remind myself that four years ago, I actually craved these feelings...

My anxieties don’t affect my dancing, however, and if anything, the sight of my long, slender legs balancing en pointe actually gives me pride in my dancer’s body, but once the lesson is over and I remove my pointe shoes, my body worries return- and I don’t just mean my bruised, aching toes.

“So, girlies,” Nicole asks with a smug grin. “What’s everyone doing for the big day tomorrow?”

“Those of us who have someone to celebrate with, anyway,” Ashley pouts, before giggling as Megan and Suriya give her a tight, friendly hug.

“What’s to-“ I ask, before my eyes go wide with realisation. “Oh- oh! Valentine’s Day! God, I’d almost forgotten…”

“Really?” Mia asks with a smirk. “You, miss- sorry, MRS ‘6’ 2” captain of the basketball team’?”

“And miss ‘two part time jobs and a leading role in the school play’,” I remind the raven-haired girl. “We haven’t actually planned anything? Guess it’s because it’s on a Wednesday this year, I dunno. Got my counsellor’s meeting tomorrow as well… I’ll- I’ll Facebook him tonight, sort something out.”

“…That’s Laura sorted, then!” Nicole giggles. “Me, I’ll be snuggled up on a sofa with a nice, tall young man, hehe!”

“Different sofa, different boy, same idea,” Megan says with a giggle. “Think George is going all out to spoil me this year…”

“I may have heard something similar,” Ashley- who is in the same form as Megan’s boyfriend- says with a smug grin. “I know it’s bad to say this, but I think George is just surprised he’s got a girlfriend at all, heh.”

“Umm, hello?” Megan asks, gesturing to her extra-tall frame. “Dancing hippo here? Minor miracle any boy would ever look at ME…” I bite my lip as I gaze down at my slender, feminine torso- Megan’s not exactly fat, far from it and but she is large-framed- and a lot more so than me. All of a sudden, I feel VERY selfish for my recent worries…

“Shut. Up,” Harriet chastises my oldest friend. “You are NOT a ‘dancing hippo’, you are a gorgeous, sexy, girly girl and George is right to spoil you and treat you like a gorgeous princess because that’s exactly what you are.”

“We ALL are,” Mia says confidently. “And as for my V-Day plans…” I suppress a giggle as Mia and Harriet suddenly stand up and give each other a very deep, very loud kiss! I briefly glance across at Ashley during the kiss, to make sure that she's alright, but if anything, she's giggling louder than anyone!

“Hey!” Miss Fullerton says, rolling her eyes as she approaches the public display of affection. “Be a bit more discreet, please? Mademoiselle Renou could probably hear that from the south of France!”

“Sorry, Miss Fullerton,” Harriet and Mia say simultaneously in exaggerated, child-like voices- though to our teacher’s credit, all this does is make her laugh.

“…Next time I hear you talk like that, I’m putting you in the 5 year olds’ class,” the tall blonde teacher teases. “Next time I hear you snog like that- you don’t even want to know what I’m going to do! But you’re not the only person who should watch their tongue… Isn’t that right, Miss Cartman?”

“Wh- what, me?” Megan protests. “What did I say?”

“Something about being- and I quote- a ‘dancing hippo’?” Miss Fullerton asks as my BFF’s cheeks start to redden. “I may be blowing my own trumpet here but I always thought I was a good teacher, certainly good enough to turn an already elegant and graceful girl into more than a ‘dancing hippo’, right?”

“Sorry,” Megan mumbles, her eyes fixed on the floor.

“Oh, Megan…” Miss Fullerton sighs, sitting down next to the bespectacled girl. “Okay, so you’re taller than most girls. You’re not skinny as a rake. Doesn’t stop you from being a ballerina. Know how I know?”

“Go on,” Megan asks.

“Because you ARE a ballerina,” Miss Fullerton insists. “You’ve put in the time and the hard work. So what if your body’s a bit different from other people’s?”

“There are two other people sat in this room who could say the same thing,” Ashley says, which really causes Megan’s cheeks to redden- and mine, too. “Our bodies are even more different, but we’re still wearing the same leotards, tights and pointe shoes, aren’t we?”

“Hell yeah, you are!” Suriya giggles.

“You ALL are,” Miss Fullerton says with a proud smile. “And Megan? Don’t ever let anyone tell you any different. ESPECIALLY not yourself.”

“I won’t,” Megan says with a grin, before pulling her tracksuit bottoms and hoodie back on and untying her tight bun.

I allow myself a weak smile as I pull on the short denim skirt and pink dance school hoodie I wore to the studio, but I can’t help but feel slightly guilty as I head out into the car park- guilt that only intensifies when Megan approaches me and Ashley with a very apologetic look on her face.

“Hey you two,” Megan says quietly. “I- I feel I kinda owe you both an apology for what I said in there… Self-pity isn’t cool, heh.”

“Oh- I’ll definitely agree with you there,” Ashley says, giving the tall girl a tight hug. “But you don’t need to apologise, you really don’t.”

“If anything,” I say with a heavy sigh, “I should be apologising to you. I’ve kinda been a bit, you know, ‘self-pity’ lately…”

“You- bu- oh,” Megan says, her face falling as she realises what I mean by ‘self-pity’. Megan was the one who wanted to come with me in the ambulance when my eating disorder caused me to pass out in the middle of class, and even though she hasn’t talked about it since, I know that deep down, she was very traumatised by the event.

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“What’s- have I missed something?” Ashley asks, before her eyes go wide with realisation. “Oh, the, umm- yeah…”

“Yeah,” I whisper as my cheeks start to burn.

“Have you told your mum about this?” Megan asks. “Or- or your counsellor?”

“I- I can’t tell my mum, she’d go mental!” I moan. “You know how weird she is about it…”

“It’s not the sort of thing you should keep to yourself,” Megan says. “If you’re feeling this way, you need to do something about it. And I DON’T mean starve yourself or take diet pills.”

“I know, I know,” I sigh.

“What triggered this, anyway?” Ashley asks. “You don’t look like you’ve gained any weight, if anything, your waist looks smaller than ever.”

“Thanks,” I say with a snort of laughter. “It- ugh, I dunno. Maybe when we were in rehearsals with Phil… I- I talked to him over Facebook. He- he called me a ‘fat transvestite’…”

“Ugh,” Megan spits, a look of pure disgust creeping across her face. “Did you tell your counsellor about this?”

“What can she do?” I protest. “She can’t sew Phil’s lips closed…”

“No, but she can tell you how to deal with bullying like that,” Ashley says softly. “We go to the same counsellor, remember? We- we talked a LOT after the whole ‘Sam Reid’ incident…”

“Yeah,” I whisper, my cheeks continuing to flush even as mum approaches from her car.

“You three going to gossip all night?” Mum asks, smirking as I roll my eyes.

“See you two tomorrow,” I say as I take a couple of deep breaths to clear my head before sliding onto the passenger seat of mum’s car.

“What were you three talking about?” Mum asks.

“Oh- umm, just the usual stuff,” I mumble, sighing as I’m immediately caught out in my lie.

“Laura…” Mum says sternly. “I saw the looks on your faces, that wasn’t any ordinary gossip, Megan looked as white as a sheet!”

“…It’s cold,” I shrug.

“What’s going on?” Mum asks firmly. “What is it you’re not telling me? Are you in trouble at school? Have- have you and Kain done something you shouldn’t have?” I let out a loud sigh and roll my eyes, which only deepens mum’s frown- then again, if her first instinct is to think the worst of me…

“Nothing, honestly,” I say. There’s no point in worrying her unnecessarily about my ‘problems’ anyway. “We- we were talking about tomorrow.”

“Wednesday?” Mum asks, before realising. “Oh, right, Valentine’s day! Knew there was a reason we asked Lily’s grandparents to babysit instead of you. I take it you’ll be seeing Kain in the evening?”

“Yep,” I reply. “Though… We- we kinda haven’t made any plans yet…”

“Hence the stress, I suppose,” mum says, though she looks far from convinced. “Get on Facebook when you get home and arrange something with him.”

“Thanks, mum!” I say with a forced smile. I’ll talk to Dr Williamson tomorrow about my weight worries- she’ll be able to offer more help than mum can, anyway.

When I get home, I follow mum’s advice and get straight onto Facebook, messaging Kain and (in between exchanging several hundred ‘kissing’ emojis) arranging a date at Kain’s house tomorrow night- albeit one chaperoned by Kain’s mother. As we get ready to end our conversation, however, Kain sends a message that gives me pause.

‘Were you at ballet tonight?’ My boyfriend asks, making me giggle.

‘Yep!’ I reply with a ‘grinning’ emoji. ‘So don’t be surprised if you spend tomorrow giving me foot rubs lol!’

‘It’s okay, you have sexy feet,’ Kain replies with a ‘winking’ emoji. ‘Still wearing your ballet uniform?’

‘Yep!’ I reply, before rolling my eyes. ‘Let me guess- picture, right?’ I grin widely as Kain’s response is a picture of himself in his basketball uniform, which- being just a pair of shorts and a tank top- greatly shows off his firm, lean muscles. I instantly strip off my skirt and my hoodie and take a selfie in my full-length mirror, but before I send it, I pause.

For a quick selfie, it’s not a bad picture- the lighting’s good and my whole body’s in shot- but that’s the problem. My WHOLE body is in shot, giving me the chance to examine it thoroughly for the first time in a while. My hips are wider than I remember, my backside’s larger… Sure, Ashley is right when she says that my waist is narrower than before, noticeably narrow in fact, but still, my body is far from how I would want it to be…

I spend the next five minutes taking and re-taking selfies in my bedroom mirror, but no matter what I try, none of them look as good as I would want them to be. Eventually, and with my boyfriend growing impatient, I send over the best of the bunch, a picture of me with one hand on my hip and my opposite leg raised onto tiptoes like an elegant ballerina. Of course, even this flawed picture gets a reply from Kain consisting of an emoji with bulging love hearts in place of eyes.

‘Can’t wait to see what you’re wearing tomorrow,’ Kain types.

‘Maybe I’ll wear my uniform?’ I reply with a ‘winking’ emoji.

‘You’ll still be the sexiest girl ever,’ my boyfriend retorts with a ‘kissing’ emoji.

Several more ‘kissing’ emojis are exchanged before I eventually change out of my dancewear and into my plain cotton nightie, and each one I receive builds my confidence more and more, but inside, I still feel the familiar pang of self-doubt. Consciously, I know that Kain means every word when he says that I’m the sexiest girl who ever lived. He’s always had a crush on me, and that crush only seems to have got bigger since we started going out. Often, when we kiss, I can feel a tell-tale bulge that tells me that he's struggling to control ‘himself’, and he wasn’t still only fifteen, I’m certain we’d have acted on those impulses by now.

And Kain isn’t even the only boy in school who fancies me. When I started school, four and a half years ago, the stares I got from the boys in my year were ones of confusion, shock, horror and disgust. How dare I- a BOY, just like them- parade around school in a skirt? Nowadays, though, the looks I get from the boys are ones of desire and lust. There are still plenty of transphobes at school, of course, but as the boys grew up with me- and the changes to my body made it clear that I was NOT one of them- the vast majority of them became increasingly comfortable seeing me as a girl. However, there are a few whose stares, laughter and pointed fingers always remind me that I’m not like the other girls in my year. Sometimes I wonder what it must be like for Kain, whether or not he receives the same level of bullying I did for being the boyfriend of a transgendered girl. I know Ashley’s best (male) friend George often gets harassed for his association with Ashley- as does Ashley herself- and they aren’t even going out.

I am definitely VERY grateful that I have such a wonderful boyfriend in Kain- especially considering my recent interactions with Phil bloody Brooks. I know That Kain likes me for who I am- ‘squishy bits’ and all. I just wish I could like me for who I am…

When I wake up the next morning, though, I do my best to put any self-pitying thoughts out of my mind as I pull on my trusty uniform, tie my hair back into its usual high ponytail and head down to my mum’s car.

“So, then,” mum asks as I sit down in the passenger seat and straighten my short grey skirt. “What are the plans for tonight, then?”

“What’s happening tonight?” Lily asks from the back seat of the car.

“It’s the best day of the year for girls who have boyfriends!” I reply with an excited giggle. “You’ll understand when you’re a little older.”

“Oh, Valentine’s Day?” Lily asks.

“Yep,” mum replies. “That’s why you’re spending tonight at your grandparents’ house. Question is, what’s my other daughter doing tonight?”

“I spo-“ I begin, before being immediately interrupted.

“Note I said ‘doing’ rather than ‘sleeping’ as said daughter and her boyfriend are still legally children,” mum says with a semi-serious stare.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I sigh. “Kain’s expecting me about 6-ish, we’ll be eating at his house. And before you ask, as you inevitably will, yes, his mum will be in the house too.”

“Good,” mum says. “So you’ll be eating there?” I bite my lip before responding- I hope it’s just my imagination that mum seemed to put an emphasis on the word ‘eating’…

“Yes, we’re getting a take-out,” I reply. “Probably Chinese, we both like Chinese…”

“Okay,” mum says. “Hope you’ll have enough time to get ready after your meeting with Dr Williamson.”

“Isn’t Laura normally home before 4:30 when she sees her?” Lily asks. “That’s, like, an hour and a half, isn’t it?”

“Exactly,” mum says with a smug smile as I roll my eyes. “That’ll barely be enough time to do one of her hairs…”

Fortunately, I only have to endure mum’s ‘sense of humour’ until I arrive at the entrance to my school, where I’m greeted by my six best friends- though instead of the usual giggles and hugs, today I’m greeted by concerned looks- and I immediately figure out both why this is the case and who’s to blame.

“Hi Laura,” Megan says quietly, before letting out a soft sigh.

“Did- ugh, you told them, didn’t you?” I spit.

“Yes, she told us!” Suriya says, looking like she’s close to tears. “Told us to be ready for you passing out at ballet again!”

“Ugh, that- that’s not going to happen!” I sigh. “Honestly. Tell someone something in confidence…”

“What were we meant to do?” Ashley asks. “Watch you mess yourself up again?”

“I told you that privately,” I snarl. “How would you have felt if me and Suriya had told everyone about the real you back when we were the only people who knew?”

“Probably angry at first,” Ashley concedes.

“Exactly,” I say.

“But I’d ultimately have been happier,” Ashley says, making me roll my eyes. “I’m serious. I only got here, wearing this, because I trusted all of you, that you all had my back. So trust us. Please.”

“I knew what you were going through,” I say. “None of you kno-“ I pause before finishing my sentence as I realise just how inaccurate it is. All of my friends know exactly what it’s like to feel singled out for being who they are- Megan for her size, Harriet and Mia for their sexual orientation, Suriya and her sister for their ethnicity, Nicole for her Asperger’s and Ashley- nobody knows what I’m going through better than Ashley. “…I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Nicole says as she leads me and the other girls in a long, tight group hug.

“Apology not necessary in the first place!” Suriya says with a giggle.

“Thanks,” I say, sniffing back a tear that’s suddenly appeared in the corner of my eye. “But I really, really don’t want to talk about this, okay? If I need help, I- I promise I’ll ask for it. But I’m okay for now.”

“Just as long as you DO ask,” Megan says firmly. “You can never have too many friends, remember? And we’re not just here to, you know, have fun with. We’re here if you NEED us too.”

“Thanks,” I sniffle, tears now freely flowing from my eyes. “But seriously, topic change, please?”

“Can do!” Suriya giggles.

“We’ve got better things to talk about at break anyway,” Nicole says with a devilish grin.

“The photos from Jamie-Lee Burke’s daughter’s birthday party yesterday?” Ashley asks with a mock-innocent pout.

“…Got to admit, they were REALLY cute,” Megan giggles. “But tonight will be even cuter, hehe!”

“Hell yeah it will!” I say with a confident smirk as I and my friends head to our form rooms, where, as always, I link fingers with my boyfriend before sitting down at my usual desk.

The first two lessons of the day pass uneventfully, and despite the ‘confrontation’ at the start of the day, I feel my excitement levels rising as I approach my regular table for break- even if it seems a little emptier than usual.

“Hey girlies!” I squeak, sweeping my short skirt beneath me as I sit down. “Where are Harriet and Mia?” I frown with confusion as my question elicits girlish giggles from everyone else at the table. “…What’s happened?”

“If rumours are to be believed,” Nicole says, “they’re in detention.”

“For kissing in class!” Megan giggles. “Obviously, as head girl, I can’t condone such disgraceful behaviour.”

“But as their friend…?” Ashley asks.

“…Go team Harria!” Megan cheers, making the rest of us giggle loudly. “Ah… No prizes for guessing what they’re going to be doing tonight, hehe!” I smile sympathetically as I glance over at Ashley- the third ‘side’ in the recent love triangle- to make sure that she’s okay with this, but her continuing smile tells me that she’s got no problem with the idea of ‘Harria’- and obviously, neither does anyone else sat at the table, least of all me. Even though both girls have flat-out bullied me in the past, I now consider them both to be close friends.

"I don't know that I could ever go out with a girl," Suriya says. "Umm, no offence, Ashley."

"For what?" Ashley replies. "For saying 'no thanks' to lesbianism or because we actually used to go out?"

"...Both," Suriya says with an embarrassed giggle. "Ahh... Happy that I'm going out with a REAL boy now, hehe!"

"DEFINITELY no offence taken there!" My fellow transgendered girl giggles as she plays with her shoulder-length hair. "And I'll be okay, you know, 'skipping' V-Day this year. I'm babysitting tonight anyway..."

"Isn't it Cassie's ballet class tonight?" Nicole asks. "I would NOT want to be the one to tell her she's not dancing tonight..."

"It's tomorrow night, thank god," Ashley replies. "My parents were crapping themselves when Miss Fullerton reworked the timetable, hehe!"

"I'm just glad our classes didn't move!" I say with a giggle. "Would NOT have been happy if it'd clashed with tonight..."

"Or if the play had!" Suriya teases.

"Oh yes!" Megan giggles. "Going to be wearing your Elsa dress tonight?"

"If only!" I reply with a giggle. "Nah, going to wear that sparkly blue one I got for Christmas from Nikki and her wife."

"Ooh," Nicole coos. "Is that the one where if the skirt was any shorter, it'd technically be a top?"

"Umm, yeah!" I reply, triggering a mass giggle. "Thinking of pairing it with a pair of black tights and those black heels I got in the Boxing Day sales."

"The ones with the four inch heels that you promised to let me borrow at some point?" Ashley asks with a pout.

"The same," I say with a smug smile. "Hey, Kain's almost six inches taller than me, it'll be easier for us to snog this way."

"And it will be just, you know, snogging, right?" Megan asks, making me groan with frustration.

"Ugh, yes, MUM," I say, before frowning. "...Sorry. But you don't give Harriet and Mia such a hard time about this, and one of them's sixteen while the other's fifteen..."

"Oh- I will, don't worry about that," Megan says. "And yes, I will practise what I preach and not jump on George until he's sixteen too. Even though I'd probably end up flattening him..." I bite my lip as the mood at the table suddenly drops- and even though it was Megan whose words caused the change in mood, I can't help but feel partially responsible, the way I've felt the last few days.

"Are we, or are we not all gorgeous, girly girls with amazing bodies that would make any BOY drown in his own drool?" I ask.

"Hell yeah we are!" Nicole cheers. "ALL of us are. Even if SOME of us would rather boys didn't look OR touch!"

"Oh, boys can look all they want," Ashley says with a grin. "Kinda hard to keep attention away when you've only got a thin layer of nylon covering your legs..." I giggle as Ashley conspicuously plays with her opaque black tights.

"You could, you know, always wear trousers..." Suriya cautiously teases.

"Uh- ew!" Ashley replies, triggering a mass giggle.

"That's my girl," I say with a proud smile.

"You know it'll be even harder to hide your body in your gymnastics leotard, right?" Nicole asks, lowering the mood at the table again as we all realise that what Nicole said doesn't just apply to Ashley...

"...Whatever," I shrug. "They're supposed to be a tight. And I know I look GOOD in a leotard. Honestly... HONESTLY. I know I look good." Well, I say I know I look good, anyway...

"Damn right you do!" Megan says with a warm smile.

However, after the next lesson, I still find myself feeling self-conscious as I strip off my blouse, my skirt and my tights and step into my long-sleeved team leotard- not least because I know the eyes of all my friends are on me as I do so.

"You can stop staring," I sigh. "I'm fine. HONESTLY. How many times do I have to say it?"

"You can say it as many times as you want," Ashley says quietly. "But what Nicole said is true. These things really don't give any place to, you know, 'hide'..." I frown as Ashley walks closer to me with a concerned look on her face- though oddly, it's not me that she's concerned about. "And just between you and me? You're not the only one who's worried..." I follow Ashley's eye line to the corner of our 'private changing room', where two other younger girls are stretching their leotards over their much smaller bodies.

"What, Bryony?" I ask. "What's she got to feel self-conscious about?"

"Uh- she's in Year 7, barely knows anyone in her year yet and kinda has a best friend who makes all her decisions for her," Ashley replies. "She's flat out told me she wouldn't be in this club if Sabrina wasn't."

"She's not THAT bad," I shrug. "She's actually pretty good at the rhythmic stuff, wouldn't be surprised if she makes a team next year. And one other thing- she isn't fat! She's practically skin and bones..."

"That's another reason why I'm worried," Ashley whispers, making me frown.

"...And so am I, right?" I mumble.

"I'd hope not," Ashley says, making my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "The others all hope that too." I frown as I finish adjusting my leotard and stare at my reflection in one of the toilet's mirrors. I certainly have more meat on my bones than either of the younger girls in our group. More than Suriya as well, for that matter. But I'm skinnier than Nicole, and I'm skinnier (and, paradoxically, curvier) than Ashley too. I DO have a girl's body, and that's never more obvious than when I'm wearing what I'm wearing now. Nicole's right- there's nowhere to 'hide' when wearing a leotard. But it's not like I have anything to 'hide' that I'm not proud of- and that isn't already safely 'tucked away', anyway...

Fortunately, no more comments are made throughout the gymnastics session- in fact, I'm complimented on my form by Miss Edwards- though I am glad to be pulling on my uniform again once the session comes to an end, and even more glad once the bell rings to signify the end of the school day. However, my relief soon makes way for nerves, thanks to the two 'dates' I have lined up for me. The second one is one I'm definitely looking forward to- the first one, not so much.

"Hi Laura!" Dr Williamson says as I plop myself down on the sofa opposite her. "Good day at school?"

"Yep!" I say. "Well, not bad, it's getting close to exam time so... Yeah."

"Ugh, I can definitely sympathise with you there!" My counsellor says with a quiet chuckle. "I hated exams when I was at school. I did usually get straight 'A's, but that didn't mean that I actually liked any of it, the revising... It all paid off in the end, though."

"Yeah, I know," I say with a smile.

"Though I imagine it's more what happened on Monday and what will be happening tomorrow that you're more interested in," Dr Williamson says with a smile.

"Oh, the- the play?" I ask. "Yeah, kinda, heh."

"How did it go on Monday?" Dr Williamson asks. "I already have your signature on some forms, should I be asking for a signed photo?"

"...It's a little early for THAT," I mumble as my cheeks start to flush. Every second spent talking about the play is a second spent not talking about my latest 'wobble' about my weight- and I'm not sure whether that's a good or bad thing, whether I should be relieved or frustrated.

"Laura, are you- is everything okay?" Dr Williamson asks. "Was there a problem with the play?"

"No, none at all," I reply, before letting out a pained sigh. "Well... One. Sort of. Kinda."

"Go on," my counsellor asked.

"My dress, my costume..." I say, before biting my lip as I feel tears form in the corners of my eyes. "It- it felt a little tight at times..."

"You've been having problems with your body image again," Dr Williamson says softly, smiling as I nod and my cheeks turn bright red. "It's okay, Laura. We both knew your bulimia wasn't just going to go away overnight. Have- have you been, you know, taking 'steps'-"

"No, absolutely not!" I say, before letting out a long sigh. "I haven't. I promise. I- I've thought about it, though. Sometimes thought about it a lot..."

"I hope- I hope I'm not the first person you're talking to about this," Dr Williamson says quietly. "I hope you're not just bottling this up, Laura. Have you told your mum?" I frown and blush even more as I shake my head.

"I don't want to worry her," I mumble.

"That's part of what mums are for," Dr Williamson says softly. "You should tell her. If you're only in the 'worrying' stage then we can do something about it. Before things go too far."

"What if telling her makes me stress out and- well, you know..." I mumble.

"I have a feeling it won't," Dr Williamson says softly. "Have you told any of your friends? I know how close you are to them, and I do remember being a sixteen year old girl and there are some things-"

"They- they kinda, umm, figured it out..." I mumble. "I can tell the way they look at me..."

"They're concerned for you, Laura," Dr Williamson says. "As good friends should be."

"Has- has Ashley said anything about me?" I ask. "In her sessions? I mean, I know about confidentiality, but if it's about me then-"

"Ashley hasn't said anything," Dr Williamson says. "And I won't be saying anything to her about this or anything to do with you. What happens in these sessions is between you and me alone, you know that. One thing I will say though, Laura... It is possible that your body may have changed over the last three months."

"So- so I HAVE been getting fatter!?" I moan.

"No, not fatter," Dr Williamson says. "But don't forget, you have been taking an increased dose of oestrogen since your sixteenth birthday. This dosage is designed to transform your body into a woman's body at a fairly accelerated rate. Maybe the rate is TOO accelerated."

"So- so you're taking me off oestrogen?" I ask, my mind racing as I start to panic. "But- but I-"

"I'm not taking you off of it," Dr Williamson says. "Take deep breaths, Laura, working yourself up like this isn't going to do you any good."

"O- okay," I say, trying to calm myself down.

"Taking you off of oestrogen would only do more harm than good, I'm more convinced of that with every passing day," Dr Williamson says. "But I have to be conscious of the issues you've raised today. I can't simply ignore them and carry on like nothing's happened, Laura. So I am- temporarily- reducing your dosage. And it is only temporary, I promise you. Just so you can 'catch up' with your body a bit."

"Okay," I say, letting out a pained moan.

"I know this isn't what you wanted to hear, Laura," Dr Williamson says. "But we all have setbacks. And I am pleased that you brought this to my attention before it became a major problem again. You're not the same timid little girl I first met five years ago, or even the same hot-headed teenager. You're becoming a mature, intelligent young woman. You should be proud in what you've achieved."

"...Thanks," I mumble- though I'm far from convinced.

Naturally, Dr Williamson spends the next forty minutes trying to convince me that despite my mistakes, I've had many, many successes as well- my fledgling acting & modelling careers, my exams, the play- especially the play. However, it's a tactic I've known Dr Williamson to use many times in the past- emphasising my 'wins' to disguise the fact that I've just had a major 'loss'. Two of them, in fact- my concerns over my weight, and now losing the oestrogen I'd yearned for for so long. Dr Williamson reassures me that my dosage will still be higher than the 'child's dosage I'd been taken since I was fourteen, but the fact still remains that it'll be lower than the dosage I was taking right up until today.

I have to trust that the counsellor is doing the right thing, and that she only has my best interests at heart. After all, she's never done anything to harm me in the past- which is more than can be said for me- but as I get ready to leave the office, I still somehow feel worse than I did when I entered. However, Dr Williamson manages to sneak in one question before I leave- a question that almost immediately returns the smile to my face.

"So, Laura," my counsellor asks. "Any plans for tonight?"

"T- tonight?" I ask.

"With that young man you're always talking about?" Dr Williamson asks with a sly grin. "For Valentine's Day?"

"Oh- oh!" I reply. "Yeah, we- we're having a private date at his house, yeah..."

"Sounds lovely," Dr Williamson says with a genuine smile. "I won't hold you up any longer, then- though if you do need to 'talk' after it, we can arrange a telephone session for later in the week?"

"I won't need to 'talk'," I reply. "We won't be doing anything, Kain's still only fifteen..."

"But he's in your year at school," Dr Williamson retorts. "Which means he won't be for long. Laura... It's only natural to want, well, 'more'. Sometimes I think the legal age of sixteen is a completely arbitrary cut-off point, for some people it could be younger, for some people, it should be much, much older... But sixteen IS the legal limit, and when you're both sixteen, I think we should have a talk before you, well, 'do' anything."

"Isn't this the kind of 'talk' I should be having with my mum?" I ask, making my counsellor sigh.

"Ordinarily, yes," Dr Williamson says. "But there are additional thing you should know, Laura, misconceptions that you might have heard, that sort of thing... We will talk about this, but some other time. I don't want to keep you from your young man any longer!" I smile as I leave the door, but I still allow myself a little eye roll as I head back toward mum's car. And yet, I know that Dr Williamson is right- it's not like I could have sex like a regular girl, like I know Priya and Nicole already have. Even if I have an idea of how it would 'mechanically' work, it's still a big step- and some guidance might not be a bad thing.

The guidance won't be needed tonight, though that doesn't mean I'm not going to make as much effort as possible to make Kain's eyes bug out of his skull with desire. I will confess, though, that the effort I'm about to go to is as much for my benefit as it is for his- especially after my 'double failure' today.

Fortunately, when I enter my bedroom, my mood is bolstered by the pleasant sight of my step-sister sitting cross-legged on my bed in her primary school uniform, having clearly been waiting for my return.

"Hi Lily!" I say with a grin. "Sorry, can't help you with your homework tonight, I-"

"Yes, I know you have a date!" The 11 year old girl replies. "You've been going on about it for days! Though that IS why I'm here, to help you if you want?"

"...Actually, that WOULD be nice," I say with a giggle. "Can you go and tidy up my make-up table and plug in my curling iron?"

"Sure!" Lily replies, jumping off my bed and tidying up while I strip down to my bra and thong. "Which lipsticks do you want- yow!"

"What?" I ask. "Gonna need to get used to seeing other girls in their underwear when you go to secondary school, you'll be changing together, after all."

"Doesn't mean I need to get used to seeing you in them," Lily says, before frowning and biting her lip. "Umm... Sorry, I didn't mean that because you- well, you know..."

"It's okay," I whisper. "You know I have to change by myself most of the time anyway, heh."

"Yeah," Lily says. "Bryony and Sabrina from ballet say they change with you for gymnastics club, though?"

"Probably because Bryony's sister's also 'like me'," I say. "And Sabrina's sister... Eh, it's complicated. The way I see it is 'we're all girls getting changed together despite what anyone else says'."

"Works for me," Lily shrugs. "Which lipsticks are you wearing tonight? Gonna blend them like you showed me a few months ago?"

"No, tonight is not a night I want to be experimenting!" I reply. "Tonight needs to be PERFECT. I want Kain to think of absolutely nothing apart from me for about the next month, hehe!"

"You could always lift your dress and show him your pants going up your bum," Lily replies. "Are they even comfortable, anyway?"

"You'd be surprised," I reply as I sit down and pick out a foundation and concealer for tonight. "But you won't be for the next few years, I wouldn't recommend asking mum to buy you a thong until you're at least fourteen!"

"What about dad?" Lily asks.

"...I wouldn't ask him ever, hehe!" I reply. "Dunno why it is, but parents are MUCH more protective of girls than boys."

"Is- is that part of the reason you- you know?" Lily asks, and I'm forced to pause to think. I know that boys can just as easily suffer from the body image issues that I do, and I'm forced to wonder whether or not mum would be just as panicky if it had been 'Leon' who fainted that day instead of 'Laura'... And I'm forced to concede that knowing her, she probably would have been.

"...Not really," I say, covering my face in the glossy powder and moving on to my thickest eye liner. "And I guess it depends on the parents."

"I guess," Lily shrugs. "I'm glad my dad's going to marry your mum."

"I am too," I say with a smile, knowing better than to bring up the topic of Lily's biological mother- which is a sensitive topic for the young girl. "Can you fish out my Angel brand false eyelashes? Second drawer on the left. Think I've still got a new pair in there somewhere..."

"On it," Lily replies as I move onto my eyeshadow- a glittery one in gold and mauve that will go perfect with the dress I'm wearing tonight. Naturally, with me wanting to get my look perfect, the application process takes almost twenty minutes, by which point my stepsister is starting to fidget with boredom.

"Won't be much longer," I say with a smile as I take the false eyelashes she's been dutifully holding for the last quarter of an hour and tease them onto my own lashes. "Another thing you'll learn in a few years is that getting ready for a date is sometimes as fun as the date itself, hehe!"

"Depends on the boy?" Lily asks.

"I guess," I shrug. "Pass me the Revlon lipstick, please?" I smile as Lily hands me the burgundy-coloured tube and I carefully apply it to my lips, taking care not to smear it or get any on my teeth. Tonight needs to be nothing short of PERFECT. However, I do allow myself a smile as I see my 'face' start to take shape. My friend Jessica, who I did the magazine shoot with last year, has occasionally spoken about how she likes keeping her lipstick until last so that it can be the thing to tie a look together, and she's not wrong.

With my make-up done, I take a bottle of deep red nail polish from my dresser and carefully coat each of my fingernails with it. I'll have to remove the polish before school tomorrow, of course (and especially before the play) but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy wearing it tonight! As Lily helps me dry the nails, I check on my curling iron, and decide that it's hot enough for what I have planned. I carefully wrap my long blonde hair around the hot instrument one lock at a time, until all of my hair has the necessary 'wave' to it, before tying it back and into an elaborate updo.

"You look beautiful," Lily says with an awestruck voice. "Can you show me how to do that with my hair sometime?"

"Sure!" I giggle, before reaching into my tights drawer for a translucent black pair, slowly easing them up my legs and taking care not to put any snags in them with my long fingernails.

With my underwear in place, I reach into my wardrobe for the dress I intend to wear tonight. As I hold it against my body, however, I pause. All of a sudden, the memory of everything that I've said over the past few days- and everything that's been said to me- comes flooding back. This dress IS going to be almost skin-tight once it's on my body. It will show off every curve, every crease, every lump, every imperfection... I have to question whether or not Kain will look at me in this dress and decide he'd rather not go out with me. And I have to question whether I'D want to be associated with me if I wear this dress...

"What's up?" Lily asks, snapping me out of my 'trance'. "Something wrong with the dress? Can I have it if you don't want it?"

"Umm, uh-" I stammer, before taking a deep breath. "No, the- the dress is perfect. I think..."

"Going to try it on to see?" Lily asks. I take another deep breath and nod, before unzipping the dress and slowly stepping into it, one leg at a time. "Want me to zip you up?"

"Please," I say, sucking my stomach in as Lily zips the dress shut. Once it's securely attached to my body, I take several more deep breaths to brace myself before turning to face my full-length mirror.

"Wow," Lily and I breathe at the same time as I come face to face with my reflection. There's only one conclusion I can draw from the sight of my reflection, one that Lily happily voices for me.

"You look amazing," Lily says. And despite the occasional wrinkle in my dress, despite the occasional 'lumpy' area... I'm forced to concede that she's right.

I'll never be 100% happy with the way I look. But then again, what girl does? Even the famous supermodels are airbrushed whenever they appear in magazines. Even Jamie-Lee Burke has had cosmetic surgery (beyond her SRS, of course). As much as I love my BFF, I'm forced to admit that she looks more masculine than I ever have, and yet she's never gone to the 'extremes' that I have to change the way I look, and she has a boyfriend who clearly adores her... Just as I have. And I know for a fact that when Kain sees me like this, he'll remember it for the rest of his life. It'll be the image he thinks about when he wakes up and the last thing he thinks about when he goes to bed- and that should be enough for me. It IS enough for me.

"Thanks," I say with a wide, genuine grin, before crouching down and picking my shoes out of my wardrobe. "Hey... Wanna try these on? Just for a second or two? I promise I won't tell mum or your dad..."

"Wh- really?" Lily asks as I hold the beautiful high-heels in front of her. The 11 year old girl giggles as I nod, before gingerly slipping her feet into the shoes. They're four sizes too big for her, of course, so she has trouble moving, but before long, she's strutting around my bedroom, making me giggle as she poses with one hand on her hip, the other making a 'peace' sign and her mouth pulled into the biggest model's pout I've ever seen!

"We'll make a runway model out of you yet!" I say, making my stepsister giggle as she steps out of the shoes and allows me to slip my feet into them. They fit my feet like a glove, of course, and despite the 4" heel, I have no difficulty walking elegantly in them, but it does put an idea in my head. "Hey, Lily... How tall are you again? 4' 10"?"

"Umm... 4' 8", I think," the young girl replies. "Why?"

"When you get a little taller, and you want to borrow any of my clothes, all you need to do is ask," I say with a smile.

"Wh- really?" Lily squeaks, giggling as I nod. "Oh my god, thank you so much Laura!"

"Hey, we're sisters, aren't we?" I reply. "And it's clothes and shoes only, no make-up, underwear or dancewear, okay?" I smile as my stepsister nods and immediately heads over to my wardrobe to stare at the clothing collection within, while I slip on my favourite silver bracelet and a pair of dangly earrings.

"I'll have to eat fewer cakes, your clothes are so small..." Lily sighs, making me frown. "Some of them might even fit me now, heh!"

"...Maybe," I mumble. Even 11 year old Lily can see what I apparently couldn't. "Tell you what, Friday, after ballet, we'll have a look through them, see if there are any I can live without, okay?"

"Okay!" Lily giggles as she opens my bedroom door for me. "That dress isn't going to be one of them though, is it?"

"HELL no!" I reply, giggling as I reach the bottom of the stairs, where mum and Sean's jaws drop as they see me, even though they're both dressed very smartly themselves.

"Wow," mum says, before coming over and 'inspecting' me. "Just- wow. You are a truly beautiful young woman, Laura."

"Kain had better appreciate the effort you went to!" Sean chuckles. "Even if you have decided that you don't need to cover ANY of your legs..."

"I'll make sure he does," I say with a smile. "Thanks for letting me nick a lift..."

"Oh, just part of the joys of having a grown-up child," mum laughs as she gets her phone out of her handbag. "I've GOT to get a photo of this!"

"Don't send it to Kain!" I protest. "Or post it somewhere he can see it-"

"Yes, yes, I know, I've been a sixteen year old girl before," mum says as she takes my pictures. "I'm just sending this to your grandmothers, that's all."

"Thanks," I say with a grin as the doorbell rings.

"Ah- that'll be grandma and grandpa here to look after the other gorgeous girl!" Sean chuckles, opening the door to let his parents in.

"Hi son!" Sean's father says with a grin. "Hello Michelle! Hi Laura- guess you're going out on a hot date too, then?"

"Yep!" I reply with a grin. Sean's parents, of course, know 'the truth' about me, but they're just as easy-going about it as Sean himself.

"Well you three have fun," Sean's mother says, giving all three of us a hug before sitting down on the sofa with Lily. "And you, young lady, had better not stay out too late!"

"Way ahead of you, Pat!" Mum laughs as she leads me and Sean out to the car.

A short while later, I'm dropped off outside Kain's house, where despite the cold, I spend several minutes outside the front door fussing with my appearance, making sure my dress is straight, my tights are wrinkle-free, my hair is perfect... It takes the bite of the cold February air to remind me of what I learned earlier- I'll never be 100% satisfied with my appearance, but 99% is more than enough, and should be more than enough for Kain...

"Oh, hello Laura!" Kain's mother says as she opens the door. "You look- you look nice tonight."

"Thanks," I reply as I'm led through to the living room, where I smirk as my boyfriend's jaw drops open and his eyes widen in shock.

"Umm- hi, Laura!" Kain says, stumbling as he gets up to greet me. "You- you look- you-"

"Thanks," I whisper, before giving the handsome young man a kiss on his lips that almost knocks him over!

"Come on," Mrs. Dawson says, clearly eager not to let the kiss last any longer. "Don't want dinner to get cold..."

"Thanks," I whisper as I'm led to my seat at the dinner table, which Kain gentlemanly holds out for me.

Naturally, with Kain's mother present, we don't get much opportunity to flirt and zero opportunity to have any physical contact with each other (apart from a brief game of footsie under the table). The older woman successfully dominates the dinner conversation, asking questions about the play and about my dancing, which is frustrating, but almost relieving in a way- I can tell from the way that Kain looks at me throughout the dinner that he wouldn't want to do much talking anyway!

Eventually, though, the dinner comes to an end, and I sit back in my chair, trying to ignore the sudden (and very unwelcome) bloated feeling in my stomach. Despite my discomfort, I'm encouraged by the fact that Kain hasn't taken his eyes off of me all evening, and is obviously as eager as I am for his mother to give us some privacy, judging by the occasional frustrated glance he gives toward his mother.

"...I'll clear the plates, then," Kain's mother says with a heavy sigh, removing the crockery and heading to the kitchen, causing both Kain and I to breathe a long sigh of relief.

"Thought she'd never leave," my boyfriend mumbles as we reach across the table and link fingers with each other. "You look really, really amazing tonight, Laura. You seriously do."

"Thanks," I reply with an excited grin.

"I- I'm sorry we're having our first Valentine's Day date at my house," Kain mumbles. "It wasn't what I had planned, I-"

"Hey," I say with a smile. "It was great, okay? Not like either of us could afford to go somewhere fancy anyway."

"Yeah, but, you know," Kain says. "I could've tried harder..."

"You did great, Kain," I say reassuringly. "Honestly, you did. Tonight- tonight's been perfect."

"Thanks," Kain whispers. "I, umm, I got you a gift..."

"Oh?" I ask, before following my boyfriend as he rises from his chair and heads to one of the cupboards in his living room.

"It's just- it's just a thing, really," Kain mumbles, handing me a small, carefully-wrapped package. I waste no time in removing the paper, opening it to find a small bracelet inside. It's obviously something Kain's made himself, probably even at school- it's a very plain metal chain with four wooden Scrabble tiles attached to the outside- a K and a D (for Kain Dawson) and an L and a W (for Laura White).

"It's great," I say with a smile.

"You're just saying that," Kain sighs.

"No- really, I'm not," I say, slipping the bracelet onto my wrist. And I genuinely do like the bracelet- it clearly took him a lot of time to make, and a lot of thought went into it too. So what if it only cost a few pence in actual money? Kain's heart is in the gift, and that's what's important. "I love it. Kinda wish I'd got you something now, heh..."

"You didn't need to," Kain says. "I- I'm just really lucky to even have a girlfriend like you, heh."

"Nah, trust me, I'M the lucky one," I say. "Not many boys would, you know, even look at me because of 'what' I am."

"I've told you before," Kain says. "Most of the boys in our year would give their right arm to go out with you. Especially if they could see you in that dress!"

"Really?" I ask, taking a deep breath before asking my next question. "It's not, you know... Tight? Or, you know-"

"You look perfect," Kain says, giving me a long kiss on my lips to help drive his point home. Tentatively, his hands move across my body, starting on my stomach, gently caressing it almost like he's trying to prove that I'm not even a gram overweight. Kain's hands quickly move onto my hips, sending lightning bolts of excitement through my body, before linking together behind my back, pulling my body closer to his as I wrap my arms around his neck.

The kiss feels like it lasts a lifetime, and at the same time, feels like just a couple of seconds. As I press my body into Kain's, I feel his 'obvious excitement' start to press into my thigh, and if it wasn't for a cough from Kain's mother, we'd probably have stayed in the embrace all night.

"Sorry for disturbing you," Mrs. Dawson says (even though she's very obviously not sorry). "Kain, have you giving Laura her gift?"

"He has," I say, showing off my new bracelet with a smile. "It's beautiful."

"Kain spent hours working on that," Mrs. Dawson says, making her son sigh and roll his eyes.

"Mum..." Kain moans in an embarrassed tone.

"Honestly, I love it," I say with a smile.

"I'm glad," Mrs. Dawson says with a genuine smile of her own. "Well, it's getting late now, I'd better get you home, you both have school tomorrow." Naturally, this elicits a moan from both Kain and I, though this obviously does nothing to change the older woman's mind.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I whisper, before giving another long, lingering kiss to my boyfriend. However, the kiss inevitably comes to an end, and I can't help but let out a disappointed sigh as I follow Kain's mother out to her car.

"Thanks for the dinner," I say as I elegantly slide onto the passenger seat. "And for the lift home."

"You're welcome," Mrs. Dawson says stoically. "Kain really does like you a lot, you know."

"I like him a lot too," I reply.

"Good," Mrs. Dawson says, making me fidget uncomfortably. It's not like I've never spoken to the woman before, but we've never really had a chance for a one-on-one talk. I'm beginning to suspect that this was for the best- and I'm dreading the reason why...

"Seriously, I DO like him a lot," I reiterate. "He's sweet, he's funny..."

"He's also a lot more vulnerable than he seems," Mrs. Dawson says. "And he gets very attached easily, and that means it's much more easy for him to get hurt."

"Oh- really?" I ask hesitantly. "No, really, you don't have to worry THERE. Most boys see me as 'damaged goods' anyway..."

"Really?" Mrs. Dawson asks with a tired sigh. "The captain of the cheerleading team who's also the lead in the school play and, if what Kain says is true, is doing paid modelling work?"

"The transgendered girl with the eating disorder?" I retort, silencing the older woman. "Kain sees past all that, doesn't even acknowledge it. THAT'S why I like him so much."

"...It's 2018," Mrs. Dawson says. "I'd hope he does look past all of that. I'd have hoped everyone does."

"Yeah, I'd have hoped that too," I sigh. "Doesn't mean everyone will." I bite my lip as an awkward silence fills the car. "So, umm, thanks. Again."

"For what?" Mrs. Dawson asks.

"For seeing past the 'transgendered' thing," I say. "And the, umm, 'other' thing..."

"You're welcome," Kain's mother replies with a genuine smile that lifts my confidence as we arrive back home.

Naturally, the kiss lingers on my mind for the rest of the night as I remove my make-up and nail polish and change into more comfortable clothes, though Kain's mother's words linger as well. She clearly thought that I thought I was too good for her son- which means there's a chance she thinks that I AM too good for Kain, when in fact, the larger part of me wonders of Kain's too good for me. He clearly fancies me a lot, which I can tell from more than just his words. Even in a tight dress that shows off any imperfection, he was practically drooling at me all throughout dinner. This can only mean one of two things- either than Kain likes my imperfections, or that I have fewer than I think I do. Certainly, he's demonstrated time and again that he doesn't care about my 'main' imperfection, as have my friends. If anything, the only imperfection my friends care about is the fact that I feel I have imperfections at all. Not one of them would even blink if I put on any weight. But if I started to lose weight, or worry about my weight... The events of the last couple of days have shown just how amazing my friends are. As long as I have their support, I know I don't need to worry about anything. And I know I'll ALWAYS have their support.

This is proved the following day when I arrive at school and all of my friends greet me with the usual group hug, followed by endless gossip about last night's dates, most of which ends up being about the picture of me in my dress that I eventually posted to Facebook- and all of it is complimentary, telling me how good I looked in the dress. Even my 'wider circle of friends' get in on the act- when we're changing for Cheer club, Melissa (from the year below me) actually asks if I've lost weight, and while the question worries Suriya and Ashley, it only serves to bring a smile to my face.

My smile lasts right the way through to the end of the evening, when I and the rest of the cast of the play are taking our curtain call after yet another successful performance. My dress feels just as tight as it did on Monday, but I don't care for several very good reasons- in the audience if a fifteen year old boy who's probably drowning in his own drool just looking at me, and also in the audience and on stage alongside me are the best friends I've ever had, all of whom will happily tell me how good I look in the dress.

As I'm heading back to my 'private changing room' to get changed, though, I'm reminded that not everyone I encounter is going to be on my side.

"It was a good performance, again," the rage-inducing voice of Phil Brooks says as he passes me in the corridor. "Will you be alright getting out of that dress? It looks a little tight on you..." I open my mouth to retort- which would have consisted of a very blunt 'fuck off', before seeing something out of the corner of my eye that makes me pause.

"You want to repeat that?" I ask. "Or are you implying something else?"

"Well, you know, that dress doesn't really fit you," Phil shrugs. "It's too small, or you're probably too big-"

"PHILIP JEFFREY BROOKS!" The unmistakable sound of Phil's older sister (not to mention bona fide Angel) Victoria yells, instantly silencing the sixteen year old boy and making his eyes go wider than dinner plates. "Why, exactly, are you commenting on Laura's weight when you know it's bothered her in the past?"

"It- I- it-" Phil stammers, before scampering off toward the boys' changing room.

"We are having words when we get home!" Victoria yells, before turning to me and sighing. "Sorry about that, Laura. Has- has he been saying much about- well, you know?"

"...He won't be anymore, that's the important thing," I giggle.

"I'll make sure of it," Victoria says with a warm smile. "And sorry if I brought up, you know, a sensitive topic... Believe me, I've been there."

"What, you?" I ask with a snort of laughter. "Really?"

"Seriously," Victoria says with a sympathetic smile. "I'm a size 12-14 woman hanging out with mostly size 8 supermodels, don't forget. Joshua- my boss- says he doesn't want me to lose any weight, but sometimes I can't help but feel inadequate..."

"But- but you're, like, famous," I say. "You've got over a million followers on Instagram, a husband, a daughter..."

"I could have fifty million followers, it wouldn't matter," Victoria says softly. "I think every girl goes through this at some point, Laura. Don't ever feel that you're alone, because you're not. I, umm, I'm going to need to get back to my family pretty quickly, but if you ever want to talk- even though you and Phil aren't going out anymore, and I can hardly blame you THERE, but- if you ever need to talk about this, I'm only a Facebook message away. I know Jamie's been wishing that you'd open up to her a bit more too."

"...Really?" I ask.

"I've got two younger brothers and always wanted a younger sister, really," Victoria chuckles. "Any time of day. Don't be offended if I don't reply instantly, just know that I WILL reply if you need me. And Phil WILL regret saying those things!"

"Thanks," I say with a giggle. "I'll, umm, I'll talk to you soon!"

"You'd better!" Victoria chuckles as she heads back to meet up with the rest of her family, while I grin happily. So what if one person wants to knock me down? I've got a hundred people who'll help me stand up again, even people I didn't know about. Sometimes I do love being me.

“This one’s for table six,” my colleague Saffron says to me as she places two hot cups of coffee on my tray. I take the opportunity to stealthily straighten my tight miniskirt before grabbing my tray and taking it over to the young couple at the corner table.

“Ah, thank you!” The young man says with genuine gratitude as I hand him and his girlfriend their drinks. “Can we also order a plate of chips to share, please?”

“Sure!” I enthuse. “What flavour would you like?”

“Let’s try the chilli and cheese,” the young woman says with a devilish grin.

“Coming right up!” I say with a smile as I note down their order and pass it through to the shop’s small kitchen.

On the outside, I am the very model of a professional waitress, smiling, courteous to my customers and providing a speedy service. On the inside, though, a large part of me wishes I was elsewhere- specifically, at the home of my boyfriend. However, I just need to be patient, as I’ll be heading there tonight, because today is exactly sixteen years to the day after my boyfriend was born, and tonight, we’ll be celebrating with all his family and friends. And then, at a later time, Kain and I will inevitably have some time to ourselves- and there are no longer any legal restrictions on what we can while we’re alone.

In the five months since I turned sixteen, I’ve felt increasingly frustrated by the fact that I was apparently legally able to consent, but my boyfriend was apparently not. The whole ‘aged 15 years and 364 days is wrong, but one day more’ thing seemed silly to me, and I found myself wishing and praying for Kain to hurry up and get older, but now that that day has finally come, I find myself feeling nervous, partly at the prospect of finally losing my virginity, but more at how my boyfriend will respond when he sees me naked for the first time.

I’ve been taking testosterone blockers since I was twelve, a reduced dose of oestrogen since I was fourteen and an adult dose since I was sixteen, all of which has given me a body that, when covered with clothes, is unmistakably female. Hell, even when I’m wearing just my underwear, or form-fitting clothes such as swimwear or a leotard, nothing really ‘shows’ thanks to the hormones that have ‘corrected’ my body. However, hormones can only go so far- and while my ‘birth defect’ is certainly very, very small, the fact is that it’s still attached to my body, whether I like it or not. Of course, when I turn eighteen, I’ll have the option of correcting even that (and that’s an option I intend to take at my earliest opportunity), but that’s still two years away, and I know that neither Kain nor I will be willing to wait that long.

Of course, it’s hardly a secret that I have my ‘birth defect’- Kain’s known about it for as long as he’s known me, and fancied me for the same amount of time, so it’s possible that he’ll be perfectly okay with it. Or, he’ll pretend that it doesn’t exist and that I’m just an ordinary girl- which, in fairness, is how I view ‘it’. Or the worst case scenario could happen, and Kain could take one look at my ‘birth defect’ and run away, or even worse, react violently, or humiliate me in front of the school. Logically, I know that shouldn’t happen, as every time Kain and I kiss, his ‘excitement’ at being with me couldn’t be more obvious. But there’s still no telling for sure how he’ll react…

“Hey!” Saffron says in a friendly, teasing way, snapping me out of my ‘trance’. “Earth to Laura?”

“Hmm?” I reply. “Oh, umm, sorry?”

“Two coffees for table 7?” Saffron chuckles. “Lost in thought?”

“Eh, a little,” I sigh. “It’s my boyfriend’s birthday today, there’s a big party tonight, that sort of thing.”

“Ooh, exciting!” Saffron says with a giggle. “A big birthday?”

“His sixteenth,” I reply. “And ‘cause I’m sixteen too…”

“And ‘law-abiding’?” Saffron asks. “It’s okay, I get it. Think every girl who ever lived does, heh.”

“Yeah, but it’s not quite that simple for me,” I sigh.

“Well, THAT all depends on how cool your boyfriend is,” Saffron advises. “Now go on, table 7!” I smirk as I take the drinks over to our customers as I realise that Saffron is right. If Kain does react the way I fear he will, then he wouldn’t be the boy I think he is- and certainly wouldn’t be worthy of going out with a girl like me. On the other hand, if he- a guy who very obviously fancies the pants off me- rejects me for being pre-op, then I’ll have no chance of ever finding a boyfriend who’d be willing to be ‘intimate’ with me…

My work shift comes to an end just after 4pm, and I let out a sigh of relief as I head into the back to grab my jacket and my handbag, not noticing that I’m not alone in the staff area.

“That was a hell of a sigh, Miss White!” The familiar androgynous northern twang of the shop’s deputy manager teases, making me cringe.

“Sorry…” I mumble.

“Nah, you’re alright,” Natalie giggles. “I know when I was sixteen I wouldn’t want to spend all Saturday at work. Definitely earned your pay today, heh!”

“Thanks,” I say with a giggle.

“And I bet you’re excited about tonight!” Natalie says with a smug grin. “Saffron told me earlier, your boyfriend’s birthday?”

“Oh- is everyone in the shop gossiping about my love life?” I moan as my supervisor tries (and fails) to control her laughter.

“I think there are a couple of customers out there who don’t know,” Natalie replies. “In fairness, you’ve kinda been, you know, ‘loud’ about it.”

“…I guess,” I shrug.

“Piece of advice?” Natalie offers. “Don’t force it. And by ‘it’ you can probably guess what I mean. Let it happen naturally and you’ll enjoy it a lot more.”

“Thanks, I think,” I say. “See you next Saturday!”

“See you,” Natalie replies. “And have fun tonight! And no, ‘fun’ isn’t a euphemism. This time.”

“Thanks,” I say flatly, before heading out of the coffee shop and breathing a sigh of relief. My tension levels rise when I get into the waiting car, however, all thanks to the person sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Afternoon!” Ricky says with his trademark smug grin. “Good day at work?”

“Meh,” I shrug, earning a giggle from the person in front of me on the passenger seat.

“Aye, I know that feeling!” Alice says in her broad north-eastern accent. “Could be worse though, my first job was in a chippy. Every day after working there I went home and showered for about an hour to try to get the smell out of grease out of my hair, heh.”

“You do know this shop sells chips, right?” I retort.

“Aye, and whose idea do you think that was?” Alice replies smugly. “The whole point of it being an ‘Angel coffee shop’ is that all of us get the chance to contribute an idea. That one was mine.”

“Thanks, I’ll know who blame when Kain kisses me and suddenly gets a craving for a plate of chips,” I snort, before grimacing as an awkward silence fills the car.

“…Yeah, thanks for reminding me that was tonight,” Ricky growls.

“You all excited for the party, then?” Alice asks. “Know what you’re gonna wear?”

“Oh, I’ve known THAT for weeks,” I reply with a grin. “Wearing that blue dress I got from Sarah a couple of weeks ago, long sleeves, short skirt, lots of leg, hehe!”

“Aye, I know the one!” Alice says. “Sarah made one for me too, helps that we’re both the same size, heh!” I grin at Alice’s statement- it’s always nice to be reminded that I’m the same dress size as a supermodel.

“I’m really excited about tonight, heh,” I say.

“I bet,” Alice teases. “Nervous, too?”

“We either change the topic of conversation now or you both walk home,” Ricky says, earning angry glares from both myself and Alice.

“We will talk about whatever we want!” The fiery redhead replies, making me smirk as my brother gets smacked down from his high horse. “Whether you like it or not, your sister’s growing up.”

“I bet you wouldn’t be so squeamish if I was still your brother,” I say, deepening Ricky’s frown.

“…Probably not,” Ricky concedes. “Which should demonstrate how much I’ve accepted you as my sister, shouldn’t it?”

“God, even when you’re being insulted you’re still trying to score points,” Alice snorts, giggling and rolling her eyes as Ricky replies with a smug grin.

“Not just ‘trying’,” my brother says. “But you can’t argue that I don’t have a point. No one wants to hear their little sister talking about THAT.”

“Yeah, well, like it or not, I’m not very ‘little’ anymore,” I retort. “And there are things I am legally allowed to do whether you like it or not.”

“Well, take it from your big sister,” Alice says with a serious look on her face. “Make absolutely 100% sure you’re ready before doing those ‘things’. You know whoever picked sixteen as the age of consent probably picked it at random. Just ‘cause you’re legal, it doesn’t mean you’re ready.” Even though I know that everything Alice says is true, I still feel my cheeks start to redden with embarrassment as my pseudo ‘big sister’ offers her advice.

“…Okay,” I sigh. “For once I agree with my brother, can we change the topic, please?”

“You’re outvoted 2 to 1,” Ricky says triumphantly. “You have a choice of sport or cars as the next topic of conversation.”

“BOY,” Alice and I say simultaneously, before sharing a genuine girlish giggle.

The three of us arrive back home a short while later, and after saying hi to mum, Sean and Lily, I head straight up to my bedroom to change out of my food smell-saturated clothes and into something a lot more exciting!

Before I pull on my dress- which is, of course, taking pride of place on a hanger in front of my wardrobe- I untie my hair from the tight high ponytail I’ve worn it in all day and brush it out, using the occasional jet of strong-smelling hairspray to maximise its volume (and mask the smell of food). Next is my make-up- thick smoky eyeshadow, heavy false eyelashes and deep red lipstick complement my features beautifully. A cloud of perfume follows next, to hopefully mask the last of the food smell from today, before I repaint my long, slender fingernails a deep red colour. Next, I slip out of the comfortable white bra and briefs I wore to work and into a considerably less comfortable black bra and thong set with very soft, sensual lace trim that feels amazing once it's on my body- particularly the thin strip of lace that's nestled between my buttocks!

With my hands trembling with excitement, I carefully ease the dress off its hanger, smiling as I hold it against my body. The dress will be form-fitting even when it’s on my skinny frame, and I’m certain it’ll have the desired ‘effect’ on my boyfriend. However, this just highlights my problem- ‘exciting’ Kain is a piece of cake when I’m wearing a dress like this. But if I’m wearing nothing at all? That still remains to be seen.

Nonetheless, I find myself pausing as I open my tights drawer- my legs are more than good enough to go uncovered tonight, but given how short my dress is, and how skimpy my thong is, I don’t want Kain to think I’m giving him an ‘invitation’. Then again, I don’t want him to think that I’m ‘shutting him out’, either…

Eventually, I reach my decision, and I have a smirk on my face as I carefully descend the stairs on my 4” heeled sandals, my smooth, hairless and, most importantly of all, bare legs on show for everyone to admire. The looks of pride on the faces of my family- with the obvious exception of Ricky, anyway- tell me that my dress is a very good choice. However, it’s my boyfriend’s approval that I’m most interested in…

“You just won’t stop growing up, will you?” Mum asks with an emotional sigh as she gives me a gentle hug. “Sometimes I just wish you’d go back to being eleven again…”

“Yeah, well, those days are in the past,” I say with a confident smirk.

“More’s the pity,” Ricky snorts, earning an elbow in the ribs from his girlfriend.

“Ignore him, Laura,” Alice says. “You look GORGEOUS. Seriously.”

“Thanks!” I giggle.

“Come on, let’s get going,” Sean says with a chuckle, rising from his seat and leading me to his car. “Don’t want to keep the birthday boy waiting, heh.”

“Yeah,” I say. “And thanks for the lift!”

“Just being a good stepfather,” Sean chuckles. “Though I hope that whatever happens tonight, you DON’T tell Lily. Don’t need her growing up as fast as you have!”

“Don’t think you’ve got any say in the matter,” I say, smiling sympathetically as my future stepfather sighs.

“No, don’t think I have,” Sean chuckles. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to protect her. AND you. Whatever happens tonight, umm, just because you and Kain are both now of a legal age-“

“Sean, I’ve had this conversation with literally everybody today,” I sigh. “I think Lily might be the only person who DOESN’T get tonight’s significance.”

“I hope she doesn’t,” Sean grumbles. “Guess I’ve got nothing else to add, heh. Except have fun, and be careful!”

“I will,” I giggle as we drive the short distance to Kain’s house.

Mere minutes later, I take a deep breath and straighten my dress as I step out of Sean’s car and walk up to Kain’s front door, smirking at the sound of my heels clicking on the pavement outside. I ring the doorbell, and seconds later the door is opened by a very good-looking, very tall young man who looks a lot like Kain and who I recognise immediately.

“Hi David,” I say to my boyfriend’s older brother.

“Hey Laura,” David says with a smirk as he ushers me into the house’s living room, where the party is already in full swing, with several of Kain’s male friends present, playing videogames, listening to music and chatting- and all of whom turn their heads and get a good long look at my legs as I stride up to my boyfriend and greet him with a long, deep kiss. The sneers on Kain’s friends’ girlfriends’ faces are also very gratifying.

“Hey babe,” I purr, tingling with excitement as Kain wraps an arm around my tiny waist. “Happy birthday!”

“Hey sexy,” Kain replies, intensifying my tingles- that choice of pet name can’t be a coincidence. “Do, umm, do you want a drink?”

“Please,” I say, grinning at the stares the two of us receive as we walk hand-in-hand to the kitchen.

“It’s soft drink only,” Kain sighs. “You know how my parents are, and Dave’s playing policeman-“

“It’s okay,” I shrug. “Lot of people here today!”

“Hey, captain of the basketball team!” Kain chuckles. “Makes me popular, you know? Reckon I’m more popular ‘cause I go out with you too, heh.”

“Yeah…” I say with a nervous chuckle. “Dunno about THAT, heh.”

“No, trust me,” Kain says. “I saw the looks the guys were giving you when you came in.”

“Yeah, I seem to remember you giving me those same looks for about a year before we started going out,” I tease, giggling as Kain’s cheeks start to redden.

“Heh, yep,” Kain half-giggles and half-mumbles. “And, you know, I’m the only guy who gets to touch as well as look…” My grin widens as Kain’s hand stealthily lowers from my hip to my backside- though I can’t help but squirm a little as this one gesture makes it very clear that Kain wants to take advantage of his new age- and, more to the point, of me. Not that I’d mind that too much, of course…

“Oh, hey Laura!” Megan says as she enters the kitchen hand-in-hand with her boyfriend. “Thought I saw you coming in here!”

“Hey Megan!” I giggle, briefly breaking away from my boyfriend to exchange a quick hug with my BFF. “Why are you here?”

“With George,” Megan replies with a grin which, like mine, gets wider when her boyfriend approaches and wraps his arm around my BFF’s waist.

“Hey Laura,” George says with a smirk.

“Hi George,” I say to the young man who’s changed a lot in the time I’ve known him. When we first met, he was Ashley’s overweight, knuckle-dragging, girl-obsessed and, worst of all, transphobic best friend. Now, however, he’s fit, very tall (over 6’ 4” in sock feet) and sensitive in a good way. Someone as smart, cool and beautiful as Megan definitely wouldn’t be going out with him if he wasn’t cool. Even if he, like every other boy, can’t keep his eyes off my legs.

“Hey man,” Kain says, handing George a drink.

“Cheers mate,” George says as Megan and I roll our eyes at the two boys. “…What?”

“BOYS,” Megan and I say, before sharing an excited giggle.

“…Nah, I dunno either, mate,” Kain shrugs as he wraps his arm back around my waist.

“Ah, you wouldn’t have it any other way, would you?” I tease.

“…Nah,” Kain replies with a wide, smug grin as we return to the living room.

I spend the next couple of hours having as much fun as I possibly can. I chat with the others at the party (Morgan and Sabrina from cheer club are also present as both of them go out with basketball players too), compare outfits and dance a little. However, most of my time is spent giving the birthday boy the attention he deserves, even if it does mean sitting on his lap for most of the evening and constantly having to adjust my dress to avoid flashing my panties to everyone!

The commotion at the party helps to distract me from my big concern about tonight- it’s not like Kain and I can do anything with a dozen other people in the room, after all. Gradually, though, the partygoers start to leave, and by the time 10:30pm rolls around, it’s just me, Megan, George, Kain and his brother left in the house, all of us tired but happy after an evening of fun.

“Ehh, my mum’s just sent me a text,” George moans as Megan rests against him the same way I’m snuggled up against my boyfriend. “Wants to know when I want picking up.”

“I’m guessing she’s not asking you if you want picking up now, she’s telling you?” Kain asks, earning a genuine giggle from myself and Megan.

“Yeah, heh,” George sighs. “Great night though, mate.”

“Cheers mate,” Kain says, before sighing as his brother pokes his head around the living room door.

“Kain? Get in here and help tidy up,” David orders, making my boyfriend roll his eyes.

“You tidy up,” Kain retorts, before sighing, unwrapping me from around him and following his brother into the kitchen.

“You want a lift home too, Laura?” George asks as the three of us are left alone in the living room.

“Assuming Laura even IS coming home,” Megan says with an accusatory stare.

“…What?” I snort. “Don’t think I like what you’re saying…”

“You’re sixteen, he’s sixteen,” Megan says. “And it’s not like you haven’t been, well, ‘open’ about wanting to, well, you know…”

“Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t,” I shrug.

“And is just coincidence that you’re wearing a dress your arse is hanging out of?” Megan asks, sighing as I start to pout. “Look, I’m not judging, it’s not like you’d be doing anything illegal, after all. It’s just- you’re kinda like my little sister, you know?”

“I’m four months older than you,” I feebly retort.

“You know what I mean,” Megan sighs. “Whatever you choose, just- just be careful, okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper as I realise that I do have a decision to make. However… It’s not like I don’t have time to think about it, as it’s not like Kain or I are going to suddenly stop being over the age of consent. It IS late, I’m feeling tired and I know that Kain is as well, and we’re not alone in the house so it’s not like we’d be able to relax and enjoy ‘it’… On the other hand, the longer I wait, the longer I’ll be stressed out about how Kain will react when he finally sees my 'birth defect'…

“Think that’s my mum’s car now,” George says as the sound of an engine suddenly comes from outside. “Laura, are- are you-?”

“I’ll be out in a bit,” I say with a tired smile. “Just want to say, umm, goodbye to Kain first…”

“Umm, okay,” George says hesitantly as he and Megan walk hand-in-hand to the front door. I take a deep breath before heading to the kitchen to say goodbye to Kain, but before I enter the room, one of the voices from inside the room makes me pause.

“…I mean, for a tranny and all,” David’s voice says- and it couldn’t be more obvious who he’s talking about.

“Mate, not cool,” Kain says. “’Tranny’ means ‘guy who pretends to be a girl’. Laura IS a girl, she was just, you know, born wrong.”

“Well- yeah, but she still used to be a boy, right?” David asks, pausing as Kain replies in a way I’m not able to hear through the door. “So there you go. But the point is, for someone who used to be a boy, she is REALLY fit.” Suddenly, the anger that’s been brewing inside me vanishes, to be replaced by a feeling of great pride- if David, an older guy who’s never seen me before, can think that way about me even knowing that I’m transgendered…

“She is,” Kain says, widening my smile.

“And she’s obviously gagging for it as well,” David says, bringing my anger right back and making me roll my eyes at the toxic masculinity on display. David would get on well with my brother…

“I guess,” Kain mumbles.

“Mate, there’s nothing stopping you now,” David advises. “You’re no less a man for waiting until you’re sixteen but now that you ARE sixteen, you need to get a move on. And don’t let anyone tell you that it doesn’t count just ‘cause you’ll have to go in her back door, because it does.” I feel my backside start to tense up at the casual mention of the ‘mechanics’ of what sex with Kain would involve. It’s not that I’m not willing, of course, but I’m just as nervous about that as I am anything else- the last thing I want is for it to hurt, or to not be enjoyable in any way. Yet another reason why I want to be ‘corrected’ as soon as possible, though even then, there’s no guarantee I’d enjoy 'natural' sex…

“I guess,” Kain mumbles again.

“I know,” David says firmly. “Don’t keep her waiting too long or she’ll just look for what she can get somewhere else.” Okay, I think to myself. That’s it. After taking a deep breath, I open the kitchen door, causing the conversation to stop dead in its tracks, before walking up to my boyfriend giving him a long, deep kiss.

“My lift’s here,” I purr. “I’ve got to go now.”

“Oh, okay,” Kain says, clearly disappointed by the news (and clearly getting ‘excited’ by my kiss). “Shall I, umm, see you again, you know, next week?”

“I’m not doing anything on Monday,” I shrug. “You?”

“Sure,” Kain shrugs. “Want me to come to your place?” I pause before answering this question- if Kain comes to my house, we won’t have any privacy, as I’ll be expected to look after Lily, and the last time I was alone in my bedroom with a boy and others were downstairs, it did NOT end well for me. Kain, however, has no younger siblings and both of his parents and his older brother work, so we’d be free to do whatever we wanted- assuming, of course, that either of us wanted to do whatever we wanted.

“…How about here?” I shrug, making Kain giggle nervously as he’s obviously had the same thought as me.

“I- I’d prefer your place,” Kain mumbles, making me sigh sadly- I know exactly what it’s like to have an older brother try to impose his views onto me, and given how shy Kain is, it must not have been fun for him growing up.

“My place it is,” I shrug, before giving Kain another kiss. “I, umm, don’t want to keep George’s parents waiting. See you Monday, babe.”

“See you,” Kain says, giving me another kiss as I leave.

If Kain and his brother continue talking after I leave the kitchen, I don’t hear it as I leave the house and climb into George’s mother’s car. A short while later, the car pulls up outside my home, and I take a deep breath and brace myself for a confrontation when I see that the lights in the living room are still on despite it being almost 11pm.

Sure enough, when I walk through the front door, the first thing I see is mum sat in her usual chair, looking at me with a mixture of concern and disappointment in her eyes.

“Did you have fun?” Mum asks stoically as I drop my bag on the sideboard and kick off my heels.

“Yeah,” I shrug. “It was fun. A lot of people there, more than I was expecting. Place was, umm, packed out.”

“Is Kain well?” Mum asks.

“Yep,” I say, before letting out a long sigh at the sheer awkwardness of the situation. This is the last conversation I'd ever want to have with my mum, but she seems determined to both have the conversation and pussyfoot around it as well. The sooner I get it over and done with... “And to answer the question you’re NOT asking, no, nothing happened, not tonight. And it wouldn’t have been a problem if it had.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, if you don’t mind,” mum retorts, scowling as I flop down onto the sofa and roll my eyes. “Like it or not Laura, you ARE still a child, I AM still responsible for you, and I most definitely do NOT want to see you getting hurt.”

“I’m not going to get hurt with Kain,” I snort. “He isn’t Scott. You’ve met him, you know how, well, ‘sensitive’ he is…”

“’Sensitive’ enough to have- in your words- a ‘packed out’ party?” Mum asks.

“…Maybe,” I mumble. "Can- can I just go to bed, please?"

“Laura, trust me when I say I’m not trying to stop you from having fun,” mum says in a calm, soothing voice. “If that was the case I wouldn’t have let you go to the party at all. Believe it or not, I do remember what it’s like to be sixteen, to have all this extra freedom… I’m not saying you haven’t earned the extra freedom, god knows you’ve accepted all the extra responsibilities like your exams, your part-time work… But you do need to be careful.”

“I AM careful,” I say. “Like I said, nothing happened tonight.”

“But it will do sooner or later,” mum says. “Probably sooner, knowing you. And I don’t want to be insensitive, Laura, but we have to face reality- when you lose your virginity, it’s not going to be like when other girls do.”

“…Yeah, I know,” I say with a tired sigh. “And yes, I’ve thought about that myself. A LOT.”

“You know,” mum says, “just because you CAN have sex, it doesn’t mean that you MUST.”

“I know that too,” I say. "I really am tired though, can I just go to be-"

“Peer pressure’s a horrible thing,” mum sighs, making me frown as I stand up only to sit right back down again. “Probably my least favourite thing about when I was at school.”

“It’s not peer pressure,” I retort. “Megan was at the party, she was in as big a flap as you are about the whole thing.”

“Okay, first, I’m not ‘in a flap’,” mum says. “Second, just because it’s not overt, doesn’t mean it’s not peer pressure. Just the fact that some of your friends are ‘active’ might be enough to convince you that you need to be as well.”

“…I know Kain’s been feeling peer pressure,” I mumble. “I overheard him talking to his brother.”

“Heh, he’s got the opposite problem to you then?” Mum chuckles. “Not that I disagree with Ricky, not this time, anyway. God knows THAT doesn’t happen very often!”

“Yeah,” I chuckle. “Look, mum, I- I’m really, really tired, can I please just go to bed?"

“Sure,” mum says with a tired smile. “When are you seeing Kain next?”

“Monday,” I say. “He’s coming round here, so nothing’ll happen then, either, not as we’ll inevitably have to babysit Lily too.”

“Okay,” mum says with a nod as I disappear upstairs to remove my dress and my make-up, before climbing into my warm single bed.

I don’t take long to drift off to sleep, though mum’s words of advice are the last thing on my mind before I do, and are still resonating in my mind when I wake up on Sunday morning.

After showering, I pull on a comfortable long-sleeved black bodysuit followed by a slender ankle-length grey skirt I’ve borrowed from Ashley at one of our regular clothes ‘swap meets’. After the dress I wore last night, covering a little more of my legs does seem like a good idea. A light layer of make-up follows before I tie my hair back into its usual high ponytail and head downstairs, where my family are all enjoying breakfast- including an unexpected guest.

“Hi grandma!” I squeak excitedly, giving the older woman a gentle hug before sitting down next to her.

“Good morning Laura!” Grandma chuckles. “That’s a very pretty skirt, did you get it recently?”

“Yep!” I reply. “Borrowed it from a friend of mine.”

“Aww,” Lily pouts. “Guess that means I can’t have it when I’m older, then?”

“Haven’t you laid claim to enough of your sister’s wardrobe, young lady?” Grandma chastises Lily, making me smirk and the younger girl blush.

“Sorry…” Lily mumbles into her breakfast, which earns her a gentle hug from my mother.

“No, you’re okay,” mum reassures the 11 year old girl. “There are times even I’m envious of Laura’s wardrobe! If only I could fit into any of it, heh.”

“I’m definitely having the dress Laura wore to her party last night,” Lily says, making me cringe as my grandmother’s attention immediately turns toward me.

“What party was this?” Grandma asks. “One of your friends’ birthdays?”

“Umm, kinda…” I grimace. “It- it was my boyfriend’s birthday, His sixteenth.”

“Oh,” grandma replies as I feel myself shrinking into my chair. “I see. Did you have fun?”

“Sure,” I shrug as the silence that’s fallen over the table grows more and more awkward. “I, umm…”

“How long can you stay today, Margaret?” Sean asks, mercifully lessening the tension in the room.

“For as long as you’ll have me!” Grandma chuckles. “Though I do want to stop off and see Ricky today, if he doesn’t drop round here first, of course.”

“Chance’d be a fine thing,” mum snorts. “He stopped round yesterday and I think that’ll be him for the month. Still, I suppose it’s inevitable that children will spread their wings…” And we’re tense again, I think to myself with a frown.

“Children don’t stay children forever,” grandma says in a quiet, emotional voice. “Nor do grandchildren. It’s hard to believe that Ricky will be 25 in a few months.”

“Trust me, I’m having a harder time believing that than you,” Mum chuckles. “About a year and a half from now I’ll have two adult children, heh.” Though I bet you still won’t acknowledge that I’m an adult even then, I think to myself.

“Ah well,” Sean sighs as he gives his daughter a gentle hug. “At least Lily will be a kid for the next forty years, right?”

“You wish,” Lily snorts, making everyone at the table chuckle as we continue talking- with the topic of conversation staying as far away from last night’s party as possible.

However, after breakfast, Lily heads out to one of her friends’ houses with Sean, while mum heads into her bedroom to do some ironing, leaving me alone in the living room with grandma- and if I thought that mum had a disapproving look on her face last night, it’s nothing compared to the glare my grandmother is giving me now.

“…Your boyfriend’s sixteenth birthday, then?” Grandma asks, making me cringe. If I didn't want to have this conversation with my mum, I DEFINITELY don't want to have it with grandma.

“Yes,” I mumble. “And yes, I’ve had ‘the talk’ with just about everyone I know several times already.”

“Good,” grandma says sternly. “Hopefully what you were told will sink in a little.”

“…I’m not going to become a nun,” I say, cringing as grandma’s stare grows sterner. “I mean, I’m not doing anything illegal…”

“And it’s not immoral either, no matter what other people might try to tell you,” grandma says, her stern expression cracking briefly. “But it’s still a much, much bigger deal than you think.”

“I dunno, I’ve been thinking a LOT about it lately,” I say, before cringing again. “I mean, about what a change it-“

“I know what you mean,” grandma says softly. “And I’m sure you don’t want to hear me of all people talk about it with you.”

“Yeah, this is kinda a really embarrassing conversation,” I say, making the older woman grin.

"It's only embarrassing if there are other people around," grandma corrects me. "And we just don’t want to see you get hurt. You’ve been through too much over these last five years, far more than you deserved to.”

“Yeah,” I whisper. A kidnapping, an eating disorder, repeated bullying from the other kids at school… I’ve had a lot of wins too, with my dancing, my acting, and of course some of the best friends a person could ever have, but I’ve had to endure a lot to earn those wins. However, that just serves to make them all the sweeter.

“The last thing you need is for some teenaged boy to make things worse,” grandma says.

“Kain’s not just ‘some boy’ though,” I say. “And he’s probably as nervous as I am. And probably getting as many of these awkward talks from his family too.”

“I doubt it,” grandma says. “After all, he’s a boy, and you’re not.”

“Yeah,” I say with a proud smile. “Take it you never had this talk with Ricky, then?”

“Oh good heavens, no!” Grandma chuckles. “Your brother never needed any help THERE, believe you me! And even if he did, he’d probably have been a hundred times more embarrassed talking about it with his grandmother than you are.”

“Hard to think of anything embarrassing him,” I snort.

“You’d be surprised,” grandma says. “Don’t forget that he grew up without any male role models, his grandfather died when he was eight, he has no older brothers, no uncles either, and the less said about his so-called ‘father’ the better.”

“I guess,” I shrug.

“His only real role models were his friends from school and his Army Cadet instructors,” grandma explains. “And he made mistakes. A lot of them. Not that he’d ever own up to any, of course.”

“Yeah, I’ve been on the receiving end of a few of his ‘mistakes’ myself,” I grumble.

“Indeed you have,” grandma says. “But there’s no sense in making any yourself if they can be avoided.”

“I guess,” I shrug. “I hope- umm, never mind…”

“No, go on,” grandma insists.

“I hope-“ I say, before smirking. “I hope you go as hard on Lily as you’re going on me when it’s her turn for this talk.”

“Oh, trust me, we’ll go even harder on her!” Grandma says with a devious smirk of her own that makes me giggle uncontrollably.

The rest of the morning and afternoon is spent relaxing watching TV, catching up on my social media accounts and working on GCSE coursework. However, Kain is a constant distraction in my mind throughout the day- and not in his usual way.

Grandma’s advice, when added to advice from Ricky, mum, Sean and others, has only helped to make me more anxious about the inevitable. I get that it’s a big deal. But afterwards, Kain and I will still be the same people we were beforehand- at least, I hope we’ll be, because as grandma’s pointed out, I know a thing or two about being changed by major life events…

“It’s 4pm, you ready to go?” Sean asks as he knocks on my bedroom door, interrupting the coursework I was trying to complete.

“Oh, umm, yeah,” I reply, putting away my laptop and pulling on a pair of cute ankle boots with a low wedge heel. “Just gimme a second…”

“You lost in thought in there?” Sean asks.

“Just busy with coursework,” I reply. “And before you make any sarcastic comments, yes, I was genuinely doing coursework, not thinking about anything else.”

“Never implied you were,” Sean says. “Besides, I think we said everything we needed to say last night. These kinds of talks are usually just as embarrassing for the parent as well.”

“I really, really doubt that,” I say as I grab my handbag and follow Sean down to his car. “It’s not your sex life being talked about.”

“Not a bad point,” Sean shrugs. “But think of it this way- I watched Lily being born, I changed thousands of her nappies, took her to Disneyland, bought her first doll… And in about five years’ time, I’m going to have to have THAT talk with her. Hell, I’m dreading the inevitable talk I’m going to have to have with her in the next couple of years.”

“Yeah,” I muse. “Sometimes I don’t know whether or not I’m lucky to have skipped that one. And surely mum can have that particular talk?”

“She could, yes,” Sean says. “But I want to have that talk as well. Lily’s my daughter, and I don’t want her ever to think I’m neglecting my responsibilities toward her. And the same goes for you. Hell, the same goes for Ricky as well, not that he’ll ever appreciate it.”

“Yeah,” I chuckle. “And thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome, I guess!” Sean laughs as we onto the busy London streets.

A short while later, the car pulls up outside the house of my BFF, who greets me with a tight hug as she answers the door.

“Hi Laura!” Megan squeaks happily. “LOVE that skirt, hehe! That a new one?”

“Kinda,” I shrug. “Borrowing it from Ash, she got my pink glittery crop top in return, you know the one, right?”

“Think so,” Megan shrugs. “So lucky, having someone who’s actually the same size as you, heh.”

“Aww,” I sigh, giving a gentle hug to the 6’ 2” girl. “Doesn’t stop you being girly and gorgeous, right?”

“Hell no it doesn’t!” Megan giggles. “Even if my shoes for prom are size 10 and have virtually no heel, heh.”

“I repeat: girly and gorgeous,” I say. “And let’s not have the whole ‘who is least happy with their body’ thing again ‘cause I think you know we’ll BOTH lose there.”

“…Yeah,” Megan giggles as she leads me up to her bedroom and puts on some music (including a teaser track from Out of Heaven’s next album).

“So,” I say as I flop into Megan’s comfy chair, “did you catch hell from your parents too for last night?”

“Not really,” Megan shrugs. “Probably would’ve done if I’d woken James up when I got in, but I didn’t, so, well, yeah.”

“Lucky you,” I snort. “I didn’t wake Lily up but I still got both barrels from mum.”

“Ouch,” Megan grimaces.

“And Sean,” I sigh. “And grandma too when she dropped round this morning.”

“Jeez,” Megan says.

“Think they reckon that the second me and Kain both turn sixteen, I’m going to turn into some kind of sexaholic or something,” I snort.

“The whole Scott thing probably didn’t help,” Megan says.

“And whose side are you on?” I ask, before grimacing as my BFF frowns. “Eesh, sorry… And I guess you’re right, I just- I just wish it wasn’t such a big deal…”

“You wish that your folks weren’t making such a big deal of it, or that it wasn’t such a big deal full stop?” Megan asks.

“…That it wasn’t such a big deal full stop,” I sigh. “I’ve, like, built it up so much in my mind…”

“Have you talked to Kain about it?” Megan asks, and I’m forced to pause as I realise that the answer to this question is actually ‘no’.

In hindsight, it’s such an obvious thing- it’s not just about me, it’s about me and Kain. He’s probably as nervous as I am about the whole thing, and his conversation with his brother last night is definitely proof of that. And as nervous as I am about him seeing me naked for the first time, there’s nothing to say that he isn’t just as naked…

“I’ll take that silence as a ‘no’, then,” Megan says smugly. “Do you guys talk at all or do you just suck each other’s tongues all the time?”

“We talk,” I reply. “Okay, we ‘suck tongue’ more, but he has a really nice tasting tongue, you know?”

“I bet,” Megan snorts. “What do you two talk about?”

“Just, you know, stuff,” I shrug. “School, family, friends, Kain talks about his basketball team, I talk about cheerleading and ballet…”

“…That it?” Megan asks, making me roll my eyes.

“Like you and George have already discussed it,” I retort.

“We have, actually,” Megan says with a smug look on her bespectacled face.

“…Really?” I ask.

“Seriously,” Megan confirms. “We talked about it, we both agreed that we should wait until a time when we’re both of legal age and we can both make it special for the other.”

“No offence,” I say hesitantly, “but George doesn’t strike me as the ‘mature conversation’ type.”

“I’ve put a look of hard work into him,” Megan says with an even smugger grin than before. “Not many guys out there who’ll be seen with a 6’ 2” broad shouldered girl.”

“Like there aren’t many guys who’ll be seen with a transgendered girl?” I ask. “Yeah, I got the hint.”

“I didn’t drop any hint,” Megan retorts. “Okay, maybe I did, but you’ve got to admit, I’ve got a point, right?”

“Okay, maybe,” I sigh. “Can we talk about something else, please?”

“Something other than how fit our boyfriends are?” Megan asks with a playful pout.

“…Okay, that IS a pretty good topic, hehe!” I giggle.

The topic of our boyfriends crops up repeatedly as Megan and I spend the evening chatting, doing the occasional bit of coursework and working on one of Megan’s side projects (she wants to study TV production at college, so has been producing a lot of YouTube videos that I’ve helped her out by acting in). Eventually, the time comes for me to head home, and eventually, to bed, where Megan’s advice has given me yet more to think about. She’s right about one thing, though- the person I need to talk to the most is Kain. Everyone else, friends and family alike, can only advise. Kain’s the only person I can talk to to actually get things done- and I’ll have that opportunity tomorrow morning.

When morning comes, I get up before 8am, despite it being the school holidays, and get ready for the day ahead. Obviously, I take care with my appearance- after showering, I apply a modest, but still full face of make-up (complete with a red lipstick that I know Kain loves) and repaint my nails a delicate pink colour. I keep my hair loose, but brushed away from my face, and make sure the rest of my body is completely hair-free as well before selecting my outfit for the day.

I start by pulling on a plain, but matching grey bra and thong set, before opening my tights drawer and sighing as I face the same dilemma I faced on Saturday night. Going bare-legged will send the same ‘signal’ I did then, but it is colder today, and with me having to babysit Lily, nothing will ever happen anyway. And my legs look good even if they are covered by tights, so in the end, I opt for a pair of translucent tights with a flirty dot pattern on them. It should go without saying that the skirt I choose to cover the tights doesn’t actually cover much of them at all, the hem sitting just above the middle of my thighs, and the top I opt for, while long-sleeved, is very clingy and has a neckline low-cut enough to show just a tiny hint of cleavage.

Finally, I select my jewellery for the day- a plain pair of silver hoop earrings, one of my lightest silver necklaces and, last but not least, Kain's 'Scrabble' bracelet he got me for Valentine's Day. A part of me still feels bad that I didn't wear it on Saturday, even if it didn't go with my dress, so I want to make sure that Kain knows how much I appreciate it.

“Good morning, Laura,” mum says, obviously suppressing a sigh as I enter the kitchen and sit down.

“Morning everyone!” I say with a grin. “When are you two heading out?”

“Once we’ve finished breakfast,” Sean says. “Thanks for agreeing to babysit Lily today.”

“There wasn’t much ‘agreeing’,” I retort, before smiling. “But I don’t mind.”

“And thanks for saying ‘baby’ sit,” Lily snorts. “I was talking to Molly last night on Facebook anyway, she says I can go round to hers this morning, so could you give me a lift round there, please?” I bite my lip as I see a look of concern spread across mum and Sean’s faces- not at the thought of Lily going to her friend’s house, of course, but at the thought of who’s coming round here later this morning.

“Umm, sure, I guess,” Sean says, earning a glare from my mother. “Go and get dressed, we’re leaving in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” Lily says with a grin as she leaves the table and heads upstairs, leaving me alone in the kitchen with two very stern glares.

“…Seriously, are we going to have this conversation every time I’m going to spend time alone with Kain?” I ask.

“You are still a child, Laura,” mum reminds me. “You are still our responsibility, and we don’t want to see you get hurt, like I’ve said so many times.”

“Then why is the age of consent sixteen and not eighteen?” I ask.

“Maybe it should be,” mum says. “Maybe I should ask Ricky to come and keep an eye on you.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” I say, fidgeting and tugging the hem of my skirt lower.

“Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn’t,” mum says, before letting out a long sigh. “And I suppose I can’t prevent the inevitable, no matter how much I want to try. But you do have a tendency to rush head-first into things without thinking them through first. At least- at least talk to your counsellor about it too. You're seeing her on Wednesday."

"We've talked plenty about it already," I say. "And maybe I'm not the only one who needs to speak to someone about it if it's getting you this worked up."

"Laura," Sean cautions in a dark voice.

"...Maybe I do," mum concedes, confusing me- I was expecting a reaction like Sean's, or worse, but for mum to actually agree with me shows how seriously she's taking the situation- that this isn't just a case of her trying to control for control's sake. "We- we need to go now, Laura. You take care, okay? And for the love of god, be careful."

"I will," I whisper, exchanging a hug with her as she, Sean and Lily head out to her car, leaving me alone in the house, and alone with my thoughts. Everybody has their own opinion of what I should and shouldn't do. Everybody seems to think I'm not mature enough to make my own decisions, despite being old enough. But everybody is genuinely concerned for me- even though I know they don't need to be- and it's obvious that they all genuinely love me, and still will regardless of what happens with Kain today. If anything, it's Kain himself who I'm most worried about...

"Finally," I whisper to myself as the front doorbell rings. I put a smile on my face as I open the door- and, obviously, that smile grows wider as the tall boy on the other side of the door greets me with a long kiss.

"Hey babe," Kain says. "Thought I'd do that now 'cause, you know, we probably won't get to with your sister around..."

"Ah, yeah," I say with a grimace. "She- she kinda went to a friend's heh. We- we've got the whole house to ourselves!" Much to my surprise, the look that spreads over Kain's face isn't one of lust, or even excitement- it can best be described as one of pure terror...

"Oh- really?" Kain asks.

"Yeah," I say as I gently take Kain's hand and sit him down on the sofa. Confusingly, despite his seeming terror, he's already clearly getting 'excited' at the mere feeling of my hand in his...

"Okay, umm, yeah..." Kain laughs as he gets increasingly flustered, causing Megan's words of advice come back to me.

"Kain," I say softly. "We- ugh, there needs to be a better way of wording this... We- we need to talk."

"Oh- oh god..." Kain moans, looking almost like he's about to cry.

"No- no, god, I didn't mean-" I say.

"Typical, I finally turn sixteen and my girlfriend dumps me," Kain whines in an extremely unattractive way.

"No, Kain..." I sigh, before grabbing his hand again and giving it a firm squeeze. "Listen. I am NOT dumping you. When I say 'we need to talk', I mean- we- we need to have A talk. We kinda don't do that all that much, you know?"

"Well- umm, I guess?" Kain asks, clearly confused by my behaviour.

"I- I heard you and your brother talking on Saturday," I begin after taking a deep breath. "Before I went home. I know what you were talking about, and why you were talking about it... And I've had about, like, a million of those 'talks' over the last few days."

"Yeah, me too," Kain chuckles. "Feels like I've talked to literally everyone I know about it, heh. Some of them aren't as, well, 'encouraging' as Dave though."

"Can probably guess," I snort.

"Some people at school still reckon I'm, like, 'technically gay' for going out with you," Kain mumbles. "Some people can't get past the whole, you know."

"It sounded like your brother was only barely past it himself," I say. "Didn't know people still used the word 'tranny'."

"Ugh, that completely sucked of him, I'm SO sorry," Kain says.

"Trust me, I know all about arsehole big brothers," I giggle. "And what you were saying about having talked to everyone about it... I can name one person you haven't talked to."

"...Who?" Kain asks, reacting with surprise as I ambush him with a kiss.

"Me, dummy!" I reply. "And it's my fault too, because I could've talked to you at any time about it as well. And should've done. Which is what I'm doing now. And that's why I say 'we need to talk'."

"Ah, so this is a good 'we need to talk' then?" Kain asks.

"Well... Depends on the outcome, I guess," I say. "Because you can probably guess that all of my family kinda went the opposite way to what your brother said."

"I figured," Kain chuckles. "That's, like, what my mum said. What I think she said, anyway, I was kinda distracted 'cause I was dying of embarrassment at the same time."

"Try talking to your grandma about it, then you'll know what embarrassment is!" I scoff, smirking as Kain chuckles with laughter. "But it's up to us when we do it, no one else's opinion matters. So... Are- are we gonna, you know?"

"I- I want to, but-" Kain says, before grimacing. "I, umm, I..."

"Go on," I say. "Whatever it is, I want to hear it." Even if it is 'I'm afraid of your penis'...

"I, umm," Kain moans. "I want the first time to be- ugh, this will sound so lame..."

"You want the first time to be something special?" I ask, smiling as Kain nods. "What's so lame about that?"

"Well, like-" Kain replies. "I'm- I'm supposed to, you know, always be up for it, all the guys say that, like, I should want it all the time... They only talk about 'fucking' girls, but I want- I want it to be more special than that, I-" Kain yelps with surprise and stops talking as I give him a long, tight hug.

"I am seriously going out with the best guy at school," I say, bringing a smile to my boyfriend's face.

"What- seriously?" Kain asks. "You're okay with this? Even after, like, Scott?"

"Me and Scott never actually had sex," I say. "I'm sure I've told you that already."

"But- well, yeah..." Kain says.

"And the other BOYS at school can get fucked," I say. "Literally, can get fucked. There's nothing wrong with being sensitive. There's a lot right about it, in fact."

"Umm, if you say so..." Kain mumbles.

"And who else's opinion matters?" I ask, smirking as a grin spreads across Kain's face.

"No one's," Kain says. "So- so you're not too upset if we, you know, wait?"

"...We should both want it," I say softly. "Even if you are 'raring to go', heh."

"Yeah..." Kain says with a grimace as he desperately tries to hide the bulge in his trousers. "Sorry..."

"Umm, it is kinda a compliment, you know?" I say. "Like you said, a lot of the morons at school still can't see me as a girl despite the obvious."

"Yeah," Kain laughs.

"Which brings me onto something else," I say with a sigh. "Whether or not you're still going to be 'raring to go' if you see me naked. I mean, like, fully naked."

"I don't see why I wouldn't," Kain says. "It's not like I don't, you know, 'know'."

"But you can pretend it's not there, right?" I say. "God knows I do most of the time."

"Well- maybe?" Kain says. "I dunno. I- I guess there's only one way to find out..."

"...If you insist," I say, slowly peeling off my top.

"Whoa- wait, I didn't- I, umm, don't want you to do this if you don't want-" Kain stammers.

"Relax!" I giggle. "I've got no problem with this. Honestly, I don't. I was kinda expecting to have to do this today anyway, heh. Feels, you know, a bit more 'natural' like this, I dunno." Kain smiles and almost starts to hyperventilate as I remove my skirt and my tights, standing before him in just my bra and my thong.

"Wow," Kain whispers, a fine sheen of sweat appearing on his face as I unclip my bra and let my breasts hang free. "I, umm, I didn't ask to see your breasts..."

"I can put them away, if you'd prefer?" I ask, giggling as Kain eagerly shakes his head. "Didn't think so. Okay... I want you to be honest, now." I grimace as I slowly roll my thong down my legs, standing naked before the young man, whose eyes are immediately drawn to my 'birth defect'. "Honest. Seriously. Please."

"I- it's not actually that big a deal," Kain says with an element of surprise to his voice. "I- I mean, I thought it'd be more of a problem, but, you know, looking at it... It isn't."

"You- you really mean that?" I ask as I hastily pull my thong back into place and refasten my bra.

"Really," Kain replies. "I mean, like, now I know what to expect, I- I'm okay with it." A quick glance at Kain's crotch confirms that he is indeed telling the truth.

"I'm glad," I whisper, before leaning in to give Kain a gentle kiss and smirking as he gasps at the feel of my lacy bra against his bare arm. "You like that, huh?"

"Oh- yes, definitely!" Kain breathlessly replies, before twitching as I take his hand and place it on one of my soft breasts. I smile as he tentatively squeezes, applying as little pressure as possible out of fear he might damage me.

"You like that, I guess?" I ask with a giggle.

"I- umm, I think I'm going to need some tissues..." Kain moans, before yelping as I grab a handful of tissues with one hand and unzip his fly with the other. "What- what are you-"

"Let me," I say. "Please?" I smile as Kain eagerly nods and lets out a long, happy sigh of relief...

Ten minutes later, both of us are again fully clothed and cuddled together on the sofa, chatting away with big grins on our faces. So what if I haven't (technically) lost my virginity today? There's more to being in a relationship than sex. And more to sex than just mindless penetration. Kain wants our first time to be special, and so do I- and what Kain and I just shared was definitely special. And private. Nothing our friends or families need to know about, and definitely not anything they need to worry about.

And I don't need to worry about Kain. Especially after what happened with Phil two months ago, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world to have a boyfriend like Kain. Eventually, we will 'properly' lose our virginity to each other. But I can wait for that day, because on that day I know I will be with the right boy- and in his eyes, I'll not just be a girl, but I'll be the right girl for him too.