by:

MacKenzie Hodge has lived a life of secrets and lies. Chief among them is his, it, or her true gender? Now faced with an important decision, Mac has to decide what kind of future they want. Fortunately for Mac, there's a whole summer to decide.

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Author's Note:Ok so here's a new story. I know most of you are thinking but wait he didn't finish the last one and technically the first part of Burning Bright is over. There is a second bit but I'm developing it slowly. This story will take place in the same universe as Its Just a Skirt and Its Just a Twin Thing. Skirt is over on Kindle now for those of you who didn't have a chance to read it here. I'm not going to repost it here so please don't ask. There is nothing really big connecting these stories so don't feel like you need to read the others to know what's going on here. Its more like a shared world. With that out of the way, I need to point out something different with this story. The main character in this story has a gender. That gender will not change throughout the story. What will happen however is that person's need to present themselves the way they feel they need to be presented. There will be plenty of flip flopping back and worth. I'm having fun with this story. I'm currently writing Ch.4. My plan once again is to post one chapter a week. I hope everyone enjoys Mac's fun journey.

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1.

“Prove true imagination, o prove true...”

I knew the line pretty well. Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, spoken by Viola in Act three, scene four to be exact. I always loved the great Bard’s prose and not because I was a Drama major. No there was something about his words. When I read them I was taken to a different place and a different time. I became someone different too. That last bit was the most important thing for me. Being someone different. Not that I didn’t like being me, I loved myself but sometimes I wish I was someone else too. I think the Twelfth Night summed up my life pretty well, someone pretending to be someone they’re not.

“Very good, Miss Delaney, now let’s hear from...”

Mr. Cooper, our drama teacher, looked around the room. He was scanning our faces, probably looking for someone with a blank and clueless expression. He found it a moment later when he called upon Mark Biggs. Unlike myself, Mark definitely didn’t want to be here. Whereas this was my first choice for a Ninth period elective, someone like Mark was clearly put here. It didn’t help that this was the last day of school before summer break. No one was really into class today. Except perhaps Mr. Cooper. He wanted to end things on a high note. Clearly, that meant torturing everyone with Shakespeare.

Well everyone except me.

I loved it.

Mr. Cooper knew that too. After all, I was the only one paying attention.

Mark groaned. “Its the last class of the day, Mr. C...”

“Yes and no reason to slack off because of it,” said our overzealous educator. “Now please pick up the line where Elise left off.”

Mark groaned again. “It's a chick’s part.”

Mr. C. looked crossed. “There are no true “chick” parts in Shakespeare, Mark. I’ll have you know, every part was played by a man back in the day, including the women parts. Most were in fact played by boys around your age.”

There were several groans from the rest of the class.

We’d gone through this all before.

Most of the guys in class had the same argument that Mark had as well.

Mr. Cooper often said that there “were no male and female parts in theater, only actors and their chosen role to play”.

“I still don’t want to read a stinking girl’s part” grumbled Mark.

A basketball player, Mark probably thought reading a few lines outside of his gender somehow reflected poorly on his masculinity. It was stupid if you ask me. Reading some lines in a play wasn’t going to make you a girl or even gay. If anything it was going to make you more masculine, at least in my humble opinion. I mean these lines were written for females but read by men back in the day. Men not afraid to dress up like girls in order to get paid. It was an honor to read those lines.

Ok so maybe I was over thinking it but to complain about it was just plain stupid.

Unfortunately for my opinion, a lot of the other guys were murmuring their agreement to Mark’s statement. If this had been the beginning of the year, I’m sure Mr. Cooper would have made an example out of all of it. Being the last day of school though, the man didn’t have much of a leg to stand on. Looking at him now, I saw the look of defeat on his face. All year he’d been trying to educate these very same Neanderthals and had failed at every chance. I think at this point it was safe to say that one couldn’t teach idiots new tricks.

That didn’t stop me though.

I grabbed my book, stood up and recited the rest of the line.

“That I, dear brother, be taken for you”.

Mark of course glared.

Mr. Cooper smiled.

“Thank you, Ken.”

I smiled and sat back down. Mark continued to glare at me until the bell rang. As soon as it did, whatever hatred he had for me was forgotten in his mad rush to be the first out of the room. The first to freedom for the next three months. I took my time leaving. As excited as I was for summer vacation to finally be here, I knew running like a fool wasn’t going to get me there any faster. I slowly gathered my things, putting away my notebook and folder. The rest of the class , by the time I was done.

“Mackenzie, you have a moment.”

Mr. Cooper was gathering his things too.

I nodded and slowly walked over to the desk.

I was a bit surprised that he called me by my full name though.

Not too many people did.

To be fair though, I went out of my way to make sure it didn’t happen. Not that I hated my name or anything, I loved it. It's just at school, I’ve always been “Ken”. It made things easier for me. It helped me separate my life. Helped me pretend to be the person I was not. Which person was that? Well, the one I let everyone think I was. This person. The shy kid in the oversized hoodie and baggy clothes, who generally kept to himself and avoided confrontation whenever he could. It was a masquerade I’d been using since middle school when puberty hit and well my life changed forever.

“What’s up, Mr. C?”

Mr. Cooper shuffled his papers.

Standing in front of the desk, I couldn’t help but notice how drastically different the two of us truly were.

Mr. Cooper was short with a receding hairline and a full bushy beard. I was tall, thin and in desperate need of a tan. I blamed that last bit on my mother’s Nordic and French genes. To be fair, I could almost blame everything on my mother. She was tall and thin too, part of which made her such a successful model in her youth. More on that later though. Looking at Mr. Cooper, I could see he was a man in desperate need of a vacation. He looked overworked and underpaid. A man who spent far too many years watching things happen and not enough time doing them.

I wonder if he went to the gym?

“So” he huffed, wiping a sweaty brow. “Have you give any more thought to the summer internship?”

The Internship.

I was wondering when he was going to bring that up.

Mr. C. was a strong advocate for helping students achieve their full and true potential. He always went out of his way to do so too. Like with me. He tried as hard as he could to give me a lead in all the school plays and pushed me to do my very best no matter the role. That drive even made it out of school as well. Our local theater held productions all year around. Most of them were pretty low key affairs, nothing too fancy. Over the summer though they went all out. That included internships for high school seniors---like me. Well like I was going to be next year. It looked good on a resume and definitely looked good on a college application.

“I don’t really know if its right for me...”

His frown said it all.

“You have talent, Ken,” he said, switching back to my preferred name. “I hate to see students with talent waste it when they could be doing so much more.”

I’d heard that before.

From him in fact.

I loved being an actor. I loved being on the stage, performing. I’m just not sure it was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I knew what acting and showbiz did to a person. I’d heard it first hand from my mother. I also lived a bit of it myself. Being in the lime light was not all that it was cracked up to be and there were consequences too. Sometimes very bad ones. I’m not sure I was ready for that. Especially when I was the way that I was.

“My family has plans this summer too, sir.”

His frown disappeared but he nodded.

“Just please give it some thought.”

I promised I would before wishing him a “Happy Vacation” and left the classroom.

The hall was pretty much deserted which was fine by me.

Less people was always better.

I didn’t willingly draw attention to myself but sometimes it happened. I definitely wasn’t the tallest or the most popular kid in school. Not by a long shot in fact. I was, however, one of those guys that some people judged on looks alone. Because of my fair skin and soft features, some of my more idiotic peers seemed to think I was a “queer", “sissy”, or a“fag”. You know the delightful things morons said when they were trying to be cruel. The stupidest thing about it all is that these idiots thought that because someone looked a certain way it automatically defined who they were. Stereotypes and profiling were bull shit. Long hair on a man made him either a pervert or a freak, being overweight made you a slob, wearing too much makeup made you a tramp. The list could go on and on. It was shit that this culture defined people on how they looked and not on who they really were.

I was girly looking so I must be gay.

It was stupid.

Thankfully I had none of that to deal with right now.

There wasn’t a jock or idiot in sight as I made my way to my locker.

There was, however, someone waiting for me.

I can’t say I’m surprised either.

“Hey Tess,” I said on my approach.

It was hard not to find her at my locker, I mean hers was right next to it. We were Locker Neighbors. We’d been that way for three years now. However, it wasn’t until this year that we really started talking. It was purely by accident too. One day toward the beginning of the year, I noticed her putting a small poster of Tara McGee up on the inside of her locker door. I wasn’t a huge country music fan but you’d have to be living under a rock if you didn’t know who Tara was. I will openly admit that I did find a few of her songs to be catchy and she wasn’t half bad to look at either. I let slip that I liked one of her songs and things sorta moved on from there.

Every time we met at our lockers, we started talking music.

Tess had a varied taste.

Not just the country music pop stars either.

My taste in music was strangely much like hers.

Our weird friendship grew from there.

I say “weird” because we didn’t really socialize outside of the hall and only at our lockers. Tess and I didn’t run in the same social circles. She was popular, a cheerleader. She was also dating Brian Ross, a football jackass I really despised. Hanging out is something neither of us was ever going to do. That didn’t stop us from talking though. I was even one of her multitude of friends on Facebook. She was one of mine too I guess. I rarely visited social apps these days so I’m not sure it really mattered.

“Hey Kenny,” she said with a smile.

Tess was the only one who called me “Kenny”.

I was pretty certain she thought my name was Kenneth.

I didn’t correct her.

Like I said we weren’t really friends.

"So I got you something for you,” she said, almost giddy with excitement.

Before I could ask her what, she took my hand and placed a flash drive in it.

Color me confused.

"Its my music, silly” she said, still giddy. “We’ve been talking about it all year. You know, all the stuff I like. So I figured I’d do you a solid and just rip it for you. I put my favorites on there. Now you can take a listen and hear what I’ve been talking about.”

“Thanks,” I said, a little surprised and confused.

I mean we had a purely platonic relationship. Hell, I wouldn’t even go that far to describe it. Like I said, “Not even friends” and yet here she was giving me something. Something I don’t even think I warranted having. I smiled anyway. I also felt a little awkward because I had nothing to give to her. Well, nothing as solid as a mixed playlist that’s for sure.

“I don’t really have anything to give to you.”

She shrugged it off. “I don’t want anything in return. I just thought maybe you’d like to hear what I’d been talking about all year around. It's also my way of thanking you too.”

Thanking me?

“For what?”

She smiled. “For being a guy that didn’t automatically try to hit on me the moment we started talking. It was kind of refreshing to know that there was at least one guy out there who isn’t a total pig.”

I won’t lie.

Tess was very pretty.

She had silky black hair, eyes so green they could have been emeralds and milky white skin. She was the kind of girl one might see on the cover of a magazine. There was no doubt in my mind why Brian and many others found her so attractive. She was one of those girls though. Not exactly high maintenance but one you had to go out of your way to impress. Nice clothes, nice car, lots of money. She was also dating someone. The first few things weren’t that far off for me to achieve. After all, my family wasn’t exactly poor and I could have a nice car if I wanted but I didn’t see the need to drive in the city. Everything was within walking distance. Clothes always seemed superficial to me. Dressing to impress seemed like a ridiculous concept to me and dating someone because they wore expensive clothes just seemed downright silly.

Then, of course, there was the whole dating someone else thing.

I wasn’t a cheater.

Breaking up someone’s relationship was shallow and mean-spirited.

If the person I lusted for was with someone else then it was my loss.

Brian was also complicated.

He was a type too. Not just a jock either. He was rich. His father had the majority of our city bought and paid for. I’m not sure exactly what he did but his name was everywhere. I don’t think it was anything illegal but you never could tell. Brian liked to flaunt it too. He had the expensive clothes and the nice car. He walked around like he owned the place. He acted like he was God’s gift to the world and everyone should bow to him. People like that made my blood boil. Entitled little pricks who used their parent’s wealth to make them seem important. Little people with little minds.

Some might say Brian was tailor-made for Tess.

Some also liked to say the two of them were alike.

I disagreed with that last bit though.

Tess was a nice person.

She was a bit stupid in her choice of mates but we both knew it wasn’t going to last. Brian was arm candy. When she got to college, she’d dump him quick. She’d find someone more suited for her tastes. Still probably rich but probably not as dense or beastly. Brian probably thought she was a notch on his belt when in truth, it was the other way around. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if Brian himself actually introduced her to her future husband. Someone more rich and successful than him. That’s where Tess was heading and though I didn’t agree with it, I was happy for her too.

Getting back to the now though.

“I’m not like that,” I said.

She smiled, touching my arm gently. “I know, that’s why you’re such a sweety.”

She probably thought I was gay.

Hell, maybe I was.

I didn’t really know what I wanted.

I thought she was pretty but I had no sexual attraction to her. In fact, I don’t think any girls in the school were all that appealing to me. Pretty yes but not my type. I tried not to think about the boys much. They were there but I tried not to look at any of them for a long period of time. In high school, it was blood in the water. It was also a complication. I didn’t need any of those, not right now. I could deal with it in college. Though if I was going, to be honest, Steve Wright was really…

Nope, not going there.

“So, Kenny, what are your summer plans?”

Since when did we talk about anything other than music?

I shrugged. “My family usually goes to the Caribbean.”

“That sounds nice”

I shrugged again. “I think I might skip it this year.”

“Really, why?”

I almost shrugged again.

In truth, I didn’t really have an answer. Not a solid one anyway. There were a number of reasons, chief among them was surprisingly boredom. We’d been going on elaborate summer vacations since I was about six. The cruises started when I was ten. I used to think they were fun. For the first couple of summers, I’d look for the Black Pearl at every port we stopped at. Jax and Mom always used to get a riot out of it. My enjoyment with the cruises started to dwindle when I was about thirteen or so. I still enjoyed them but they started to get tedious too.

They only started to get fun again in the last couple of years though because my little sister, Claudia, was finally getting old enough to appreciate them. Last year though, it got boring again. I don’t think it was any one factor but I remember sitting around the pool at one of the many resorts, wondering what the hell I was doing with my life and being disappointed that I didn’t have a solid answer. Now here I was three months shy of my eighteenth birthday and I still didn’t have any answers.

“I’m just not interested in cruises anymore.”

A lie but a good one.

Tess looked like someone just kicked her puppy.

“I would die for a cruise” she gushed “my family visits relatives down south every year, really boring.”

I don’t know, it sounded kind of nice actually.

I didn’t really have a lot of relatives left.

My grandfather died two years ago. He and my grandmother used to run a B&B in the town of Starlight Cove, the place where my mother grew up. After Gramps’ death, Grams sold the place to a family friend and moved into a retirement community in Vermont to be closer to her sister. I hadn’t actually seen her or my great aunt Maggie since Gramps’ funeral. Not that I really saw much of them before that. Mom and her folks didn’t really see eye to eye. Well not since the whole modeling thing. Mom got discovered in a mall when she was my age, ended up a contestant on one of those reality TV shows, Teen Model Inc. I think it was called. Anyway, she was first runner-up in the end. Though she didn’t win, she somehow found herself on the cover of Sports Illustrated that year.

Her career skyrocketed pretty quickly.

Caroline Russel became a household name after that for a while. She did print ads, commercials, some TV, even a series of teen slasher flicks. All of it came to end when she was twenty. She got pregnant with me, the pressure of being in the spotlight got too much for her to bear and she quit.

The rest, as they say, is history.

Well not really.

There was actually an incident with a stalker. Some crazed nut who thought he was my father. He kidnapped me, lead the police on a three-day wild goose chase before he ended up turning himself in. He was arrested, of course, is currently serving out his twenty-year sentence somewhere upstate. Mom’s agent freaked, hired a bodyguard for her but Mom had enough. She quit shortly thereafter. The bodyguard stayed around though. Jackson Hodge, who eventually became my stepfather about six years after that. Then my little sister Claudia arrived about three years later.

Mom’s parents didn’t really come around until Mom decided to go to school. She took her mother’s maiden name---DuBois---and disappeared into obscurity. She resurfaced after college but this time as Miss Caroline DuBois, kindergarten teacher. She’s never looked back. Now almost forty, she enjoys every day of her new life. At least that’s what she keeps telling me anyway. I think she missed it though. Every once in a while I catch her going through her old boxes, looking at her old modeling portfolios. She’d never admit it of course. She once told me it was all like a strange dream, a whirlwind roller coaster of a life that she’s not sure she ever really truly lived.

Jax had parents.

The Hodge’s were nice enough people. Claudia adored them and they adored her too. They even went out of their way to make me feel welcome too. They were my grandparents as far as marriage went I guess. I always felt like I was cheating though. Or I didn’t belong. Jax was a great father but he was still just my stepdad. Sure the man practically raised me and he was technically the only father I knew but it was different. I didn’t even call him Dad for instance. We were more like really good buddies. He loved Mom and I loved him too but I always felt like I was missing something too. Seeing him with Claudia made me a tiny bit jealous. They were blood, they fit together.

I once asked Mom about Dad.

My real father.

She didn’t have a lot to say. I accepted a long time ago that I was an accident. Mom tried to sugar coat it by calling it a “happy accident” but it was one nonetheless. She didn’t get into specifics but it was clear she was drunk. It was probably the reason she didn’t really know who my father was. At the time she just recently broke up with her current boyfriend and came home to Starlight Cove for a breather. She said she went out with BFFs, got a little drunk and woke up the next morning on her bed. She couldn’t even remember what happened. I’m not even sure if I was the product of a one night or what. She found out she was pregnant with me a little while later and quit it all. Well not right away of course but eventually.

A decision she claimed not to regret but I think she was secretly lying about.

I’m not calling myself a mistake but I think I surprised her.

The world on the other hand blamed me for it.

I know Mom’s agent did.

“I’d give you my ticket if I could” I joked.

We laughed.

“My parents would kill me.”

“I can only imagine what mine are going to say when I tell them I don’t want to go on the cruise.”

We shared another laugh.

A second later, Tess’s phone beeped. She took a moment to take a look at it then groaned.

“You would think that that boy could live one second without me at his side.”

I could sense the tension in her voice.

Perhaps things were already starting to crack between the school’s power couple.

A moment after that the phone actually rang. Really annoyed, she answered.

“Yes, babe, I’m coming” Then a second later. “What, his locker is next to mine, you know that? We were just talking.”

I looked around, wondering what was going on.

Then I saw.

Brian.

He was coming down the hall toward us, his cell pressed to his head.

Brian Ross struck an imposing figure as he sauntered down the hall. Six foot three, maybe two ten or so. Solid muscle definitely. His sandy blonde hair always slicked back in its signature doo, wearing his letter-men jacket and the usual sneer. Like a Draco Malfoy on steroids. We had our history, none of it good. Like I mentioned before, the Ross’s thought they owned the town. Back when Jax first opened his Gym, he actually outbid Charles Ross for the space. Ross senior had not been happy at all with the deal. He wanted to turn that location into another high-end boutique, in a neighborhood of people who couldn’t afford any of the clothes in it. Suffice to say, the city council sided with my stepfather. From that moment on, the Ross’s had it out for us Hodges.

My beef with Brian started back in elementary school, back when we were in intramural baseball together. I’m not really one for sports but I did it because Jax wanted me to at least try. “Try it once and if you don’t like it, you can stop.” He never said, “quit”. Quit was not a word in my stepfather’s vocabulary. Regardless, Brian and I ended up on the same team. Back then most of us were on an even playing field with one another. Well, Brian wanted to be on First Base but Coach decided I was better suited for it. Brian through a fit and his father flew in. He threw some money around and suddenly I was in the outfield. Which was fine by me, I didn’t really care where I was. Brian didn’t let it go though. He started to rub it in. During practice, he deliberately started sending balls my way too. He hit it as hard as he could whenever he could.

One of the balls caught me in the chin. Now I’m usually a pretty even tempered person. I’d been taking abuse from him for weeks up to that point. I’d had enough. I lost it and attacked Brian. He wasn’t as big as he was now. He also never saw it coming. When Jax started teaching me how to defend myself when I was five, the first rule was never to be the aggressor. That day on the field, I tossed the first rule out the window. I clocked Brian across the face with a left hook before he saw it coming. I followed it up with a kick to the gut, dropping the prick like a ton of bricks. Brian’s Dad wanted to sue, claiming I broke his son’s nose. I didn’t but that’s just how they were. The incident made it as far as a Review board. Thankfully there was a camera on the field and it caught the whole thing. The case was overturned, no one was at fault.

My intramural baseball career ended there though.

I also happily took the two months grounding for it.

Brian held a grudge for the rest of our lives though.

Looking at the giant swaggering toward us, I knew there was no way I could take him with a cheap punch like I did all those years ago. Not that I would ever engage him in an actual fight. I learned my lesson that day. Jax was right, I shouldn’t have been the aggressor. It led to a lot of unnecessary things. It also made me a lifelong enemy in Brian Ross.

“Hey babe,” he said when he finally reached us, putting his arm around her shoulder.

He sneered at me.

Tess visibly flinched under his touch.

So there were problems.

“What are you looking at, freak?”

I sized him up. “Not much.”

“Play nice, Bri, Kenny’s my friend. We were just talking that’s all. No harm, no foul.”

Brian glared daggers at me but he let it slide.

His arm moved to around her waist though.

“Have a great summer, Kenny” she said, looking like she wanted to give me a hug.

We both knew better.

“Yeah, you too.”

With that Brian turned her and led her away.

Wow, what a tool.

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF

by:

MacKenzie Hodge has lived a life of secrets and lies. Chief among them is his, it, or her true gender? Now faced with an important decision, Mac has to decide what kind of future they want. Fortunately for Mac, there's a whole summer to decide.

---

 
 

Author's Note:Ch.2. I decided instead of posting on Sundays, I'll post on Mondays. There might be a week off or so coming up though. I fell a bit behind on the writing this week. I had a bit of insomnia -_-. I'm still very committed to this story though. Mac's tale is an interesting and fun one. Like I said before, its different too. How different you ask? Well you'll find out in this chapter. Another short chapter too, sorry about that. Originally this one and the first chapter were one big chapter but it didn't flow right. Ch.3 is a bit longer, I hope you enjoy :).

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2.

I barely managed to catch the bus going home.

“Cutting it close today, kid” said the driver as I slipped in just as the door was shutting.

"Got held up, Harry.”

Unlike most schools, because mine was in the city, there were no yellow school buses. Instead, most either walked or took a city bus. Our brownstone was ten blocks away. I suppose I could have walked it but Mom felt the city wasn’t safe enough for that. So she insisted I take a bus to and from school every day. It never used to be, that way. Growing up I went to St. Anthony’s, the private school that Mom worked at. The very same school my sister, Claudia, attended. Unfortunately, St. Anthony’s only went up to Middle school. Besides, when I was ready for high school, I insisted I be able to go to a public one. Not that I had any problems with private ones, it just felt wrong somehow. Too much Gossip Girl for me.

Well, that wasn’t the only reason.

The other didn’t appeal to me.

“So you going home or the Gym?”

"Home” I said, zipping my pass and finding a seat close to the front.

Harry the driver and I were old friends now. It was one of those strange friendships that grew out of location and convenience. He’d been driving this route for fifteen years without incident. The first day of my freshman year, some guys started hassling me for sitting in the wrong spot. Harry actually stopped the bus and threw them off, telling them he didn’t take too kindly to bullies. Then he asked me to sit up front from then on. Over fifty, he wasn’t exactly the kind of person a teenager might call a “friend” but I liked talking to him. Before being a bus driver, for instance, he used to work as a mechanic at the airport. Before that, he was in the military. He had a lot of stories. He reminded me a bit of Jax in that respect. My stepfather was in the military too for a short time. Jax and Harry both enlisted straight out of high school but unlike Jax, Harry stayed with it. Jax did his tour then retired into the private sector. Harry drove caravans for about a decade then left to spend more time with the family. After getting laid off from the airport, he took a job as a bus driver to put his kids through college. Now he was expecting his first grandchild and couldn’t be happier.

Like I said we talked a lot.

“So last day of being an underclassman, how does it feel?”

I shrugged. “The same as last year.”

He chuckled. “It might feel like that right now but wait until September comes, you’ll notice a difference. You’ll be a Senior then, the whole school will be your oyster.”

“We’ll see about that.”

He chuckled again. “Mark my words.”

Our conversation stopped there which seemed to suit us both fine. Not that I was tired of talking with him, I would never tire of that. I just wanted to take a look at Tess’s music before I forgot. Holding up my phone to indicate what I was doing, Harry smiled and nodded. Then I removed the drive from my pocket and fished through my backpack for my laptop. Most kids had one these days. Mine was a newer model, smaller than most. Just so I didn’t have to get one of those cumbersome carrier bags too. I plugged in the flash drive after booting up then went about uploading the music. I was surprised at how much was on there. At least thirty songs and of varying types and styles.

She really was a musicphile.

I was impressed.

I quickly transferred them to my smartphone before shutting down the laptop and putting it away. Plugging in my headphones, I queued up a Tara song and listened to it the rest of the way home.

Ok, so something real quick here.

I will always only refer to home as “the city”. It might be New York, it might be Boston. I’m never going to say. It's on the east coast and it's large. There’s brownstones, lots of traffic and many rude and disgusting people. That’s as far as I’m ever going to go to describe it though. I don’t want people trying to find out where I live and come dropping by. My mother had those problems, it didn’t end well. Hell I got kidnapped because of it. So I’m being purposefully vague so as not to fall into the same situation. Maybe one day I’ll say more but right now just be happy to know that I loved my city.

Harry dropped me off in front of the house.

“Here ya go, kiddo” he said with a happy smile.

“Thanks, Harry.”

I hopped off and quickly made my way up the front steps to the door.

I entered the security code, opened the door and stepped inside.

We owned the building.

I think at one time it might have been a multiple family homes but no longer. After Mom retired from modeling, she used her considerable wealth and bought the place. After my parents married, they bought the townhouse next to us as well. It took nearly a year to renovate and combine the two. It was actually pretty impressive when you thought about it. I mean how many kids can admit to having their own foyer complete with chandelier and winding staircase. Not that it was anything fancy but it was ours. It was also the only sign that my parents used to show their wealth. They were pretty modest people and lived their lives as such. They didn’t drive fancy cars or hire nannies to take care of us. The only other sign of wealth was the vacations and those only happened in the summer.

There were three stories, seven bedrooms, two and a half baths, a large dining area and kitchen.

Of course, only four of the bedrooms were actually bedrooms. One for each of us then the guest room. The rest of the bedrooms were converted into other things. One was an office, one was an entertainment room and the last one was a small workout area.

“I’m home” I shouted, not expecting a response.

It wasn’t quite three yet, which meant Mom and Claudia were still at school and Jax was still at the Gym. Smiling at having the house to myself, I quickly climbed the stairs to the second floor. My parents had the house laid out with visitors in mind. The first floor was for entertaining purposes, i.e. for when we had friends over. Its where the entertainment and workout room was. There was a guest bathroom down there as well. The second floor was for our “living”. The office was there along with my parents’ bathroom, the kitchen, dining area, and the living room. Most of our TV watching though was either done in the bedrooms or the, entertainment room downstairs. Speaking of bedrooms, they were on the third floor, along with the bathroom that Claudia and I shared.

Wandering into the kitchen, I quickly set about making myself a sandwich.

I was almost done with it when I heard the front door open.

“Kenzie!”

“In the kitchen!” I shouted.

The great and weird thing about being named MacKenzie were all the names people could get away with calling you. In school, I was only “Ken”. At home, my mother always called me Kenzie and Jax usually called me “Mac”. Claudia called me Mackie usually. Out of all of them, I preferred Mac the most. It was a name that seemed to sum me pretty well.

“I want one of those” said a voice behind me.

I turned and found Claudia trudging into the kitchen, dragging her backpack behind her.

It was hard to believe that she and I were siblings. No, it wasn’t because her father was African American either. Claudia was a bit of a girly girl. Her favorite color was pink, she wore dresses and skirts constantly and had been taking ballet lessons for the last four years. She was graceful and sweet and short. That last part she could do nothing about, not right anyway. She was nine after all. Though from what I understood, she was the tallest in her class. She probably would be too. Given the combined genes of both Jax and Mom, Claudia might even be taller than me when she was grown up. She was definitely going to be looker. I didn’t envy Jax when she started noticing boys.

Turning around, I placed her PB&J on the kitchen island.

“That’s why I made you one.”

I only just managed to cut it in half before Claudia started to eat.

I rolled my eyes.

She might have been a girly girl but she had an appetite like a truck driver.

“Why am I not surprised you’re eating,” said my mother as she walked into the kitchen.

“Its good”.

“Honey, don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Mom and I laughed.

I couldn’t help but smile at the both of them. The two most important women in my life. Sweet, frilly Claudia with her pink backpack and her mouth full of s, sandwich, and my mother looking as beautiful as ever. Looking at Mom, you would never be able to tell she was nearly forty. She took good care of herself. She and Jax worked out for two hours every morning, which also included a jog around the block. She ate healthily and still had that eternal youthful glow. Save for a few lines and maybe a couple of stray grays, she still looked as beautiful as ever. One could clearly see how she’d been a supermodel.

When we were together, no one could ever not mistake me for her kid.

We shared the same pale skin, same light blonde hair. We were even the same height. The only thing different about me was my eyes. Whereas hers were blue, mine were green. We even looked very similar, features wise. Which is blood in the water when it comes to high school. Being a boy with feminine looks was not easy. Hell, being a boy, in general, was never easy. As far as I knew, I looked everything like Mom and nothing like my Non-existent father. Well, maybe the eyes. That was only a guess though. I knew nothing about him and it bothered me. I was almost eighteen after all.

“Is your father home yet?”

“You’re kidding right?”

She sighed. “I swear to God that man would sleep in that Gym if he could.”

He has actually.

Not on purpose though.

Whereas Mom made decent money being a teacher and still had quite a bit of a nest egg from her modeling days, the Gym was our real bread and butter. Jax was Mom’s bodyguard for about five years or so before he quit. He said his heart had never really been in it. He technically stopped being her bodyguard about a year after he was hired. He stuck around because he’d fallen in love with her. He also ended up in our lives. He quickly became the father I never had and cared for my mother in a way that no man ever had. He was warm and kind and protective. It was no wonder they fell in love. The Gym was a dream of Jax’s. His uncle used to own a Gym when he was growing up. Its where he learned to box. He didn’t get into the Mixed Martial Arts stuff until the military. Well just after actually.

When he beat out Ross, he wanted to give something back to the community. He knew how important his uncle’s place was to the youth in his neighborhood growing up. He wanted to do the same. He wanted to make sure kids had an outlet outside of the drugs and violence. They also needed a place to blow off steam and settle differences. It started out with just boxing. The martial arts stuff didn’t come in until much later. I was about seven when I started to pick it up. First the boxing then later Aikido and more recently a bit of Krav Maga. Jax learned the latter in the SEALS but refused to teach me until I was a bit older.

So I was no slouch in a fight.

I just wasn’t getting in line to have one.

“You want me to go and get him?”

“You don’t mind?”

I shrugged.

To be honest, I was itching to leave already. Don’t get me wrong I loved both of them to death. My mother was awesome and my sister was the most precious thing in the world to me. I just didn’t like to be around them when they were together. Mom always wanted to have that little girl to pamper and do all the Mother-Daughter things with that she could never do with me. I think she’d all but given up hope after she had me. I was nearly nine when they had Claudia. Mom finally got her little princess. Not that I was upset or jealous. In fact, what nine-year-old boy wants to spend time with his mother. I had baseball and my fighting lessons with Jax. By the time Claudia started walking and talking, I was ready to be the Man of the House or at least one in training.

Ironic.

“You two do your whatever thing...I don’t mind.”

Mom frowned. “You know...”

I cut her off. “I’m good Mom.”

I left the room after that. I wasn’t in the mood for what she was about to say. I’d heard it before. I thought about making a beeline for the third floor and my bedroom but gave it a second thought. If I went there, I’d probably end up on the computer, stuck in one of my senseless games. I had the whole summer for that. Instead, I turned and went back down. On the main floor, I quickly made a mad dash for the outside. I heard my mother call me but I was already out the door and couldn’t hear anyway. Just as well, I’m sure she was going to try scolding me again. Ok so not scold me but try to have another conversation that I was unwilling to have. The same conversation that she’d been trying to have with me for well over a year now.

The elephant in the room as they call it.

I shook off the thought as I made my way down the street. I pulled out my phone, making sure the headphones were plugged in before I started some music. The soulful sounds of Tara filled my ears, drowning out my worries. I smiled as I walked. Of course, the first song on Tess’ list would have to be Tara. Tara was her favorite after all. I know I dumped on the girl before but what’s not to like about her. She had a great voice and she was one of those wholesome Country blondes. She was young too, around my age. She reminded me a bit of my Mom in that respect. Discovered young, spent most of her life in the spotlight. I couldn’t help but wonder if Tara had someplace to go when she couldn’t take it anymore?

Mine, that one was easy.

The Gym.

I’d been in and out of gyms since five years old. At first, it was just to follow Jax, to be more like him. Then he started me on a training regiment. It was slow at first but built in intensity as I got older and stronger. I was ten when he finally purchased his own place. The neighborhood where we lived was actually very similar to the one that Jax grew up in. Though not considered the best place to live, it had a great sense of community. Part of that was Mal’s Gym. Mal’s---according to Jax---was a stable for many years. Mal sadly passed away right before Jax graduated high school. The Gym fell into limbo. With no Will and no family, the gym ended up with the bank. They tried to get someone to purchase it but no one was interested in a place in that part of town. Until of course Charles Ross. Ross didn’t have the community’s best interest at heart. That’s why Jax stepped in. Looking for a new start and an outlet, he made an offer. The city had a dozen or so high-end clothing stores, what they didn’t have was a place for the young people to go and unwind.

It was an easy sell.

Our townhouse was only a few blocks away.

I used to feel a little out of place around here. When we moved here, I was the only white kid on the block. Most people didn’t know how to react. It didn’t help that I was the son of a rich, white supermodel. The money meant very little to my mother though. When she bought our building, converting the property into a home, she never tried to make it look as if she was above everyone else. When Mr. Crawford down the street needed a loan to keep his store open, she gave him one. When Mrs. Cowell needed help getting her daughter braces, Mom worked out a payment deal with her. Mom was a member of the PTA, the Neighborhood Watch, went to all the city council meetings, donated what free time she had at the soup kitchen and donated to a few choice charities.

She said it was to help make amends.

She apparently lived a “wild” life back in the day.

I stopped at the Newsstand on the corner. I always felt bad for Mr. Johnson. Very people ever stopped at his stand anymore. Most people got their news from the internet these days. Magazines and newspaper were a dying breed. I always liked to do my part. I made a habit out of stopping by here every morning before school to grab a paper and a candy bar. My parents usually did too. My sister got all her pre-teen magazines from him too. The only thing we didn’t get here was the Starlight Gazette, the local Starlight Cove paper. Mom subscribed to it to see what was new in her hometown.

“Evening, Mr. J,” I said, smiling at the older man.

I grabbed a couple of Snickers.

“Mac,” he said, taking the time to shake my hand as always. “Going to see your Dad?”

“Yes sir,” I said, paying for the candy bars.

“Oh tell your sister that I have the latest issue for her.”

I smiled. “Will do.”

I said my goodbyes and walked around the corner.

Mal’s was at the end of this current street. Once the city had been smaller and this area was little shops and the like. Though there was still a few of them around, most were gone and buildings left empty. When Mal’s closed, people thought it was the end of an era. Jax buying it and reopening it brought a sense of pride back to the downtrodden. Ok so that’s a little hammy. The point I’m trying to make is that the street and the blocks surrounding it went through a little renaissance in the last decade or so. People were starting to buy up the old abandoned places and making something of them again. Who knows what this area might look like in another ten or even twenty years?

When I approached the Gym, one of Jax’s regulars was outside sweeping the walk.

“Hey Donnie,” I said as I approached.

Donnie Clarke graduated last year. He was a basketball player but not good enough for a scholarship. Sadly his family couldn’t afford college so, like most of the kids around here, he worked a few small jobs to make ends meet. Donnie worked here and at one of the mechanic shop a few blocks away. Jax did what he could and wanted to do more but some people---like Donnie---refused the help. A small part of me respected that. The rest of me thought it was plain stupid. I had no problem asking for help if I needed it. Pride was a nasty thing to have when you couldn’t afford anything else.

“Hey Mac,” he said, smiling down at me.

Donnie was tall, nearly six five. Being around him made me feel real short.

“He still in there?”

“What do you think?”

We shared a laugh. I passed over one of my candy bars before he could refuse. He took it sheepishly, opened his mouth to say something but I slipped inside before he could.

The bell above the door announced my arrival.

Not that anyone noticed.

It was pretty quiet today.

The place had its lull in customers. Most of the high schoolers usually didn’t start to trickle in on the weekdays until after dinner or before school. The middle schoolers favored comic book shops and the skate park. The elementary school kids had lessons on the weekend. I taught a few of those when I could. It was an easy way to put some quick cash in my pocket. I liked little kids too. I was also the only one who would do it. Jax had four employees, including Donnie. Most were older and ex-military. Most were there for reasons of their own and most didn’t like to bother. They were good guys but they didn’t like to be “babysitters”.

None of them were here today it seemed.

I took a moment to take in the place.

The smell of leather and sweat assaulted my nose immediately. “Blood, sweat and tears”, Jax always joked about it. I couldn’t help but smile at it. I smiled at the place too. There was a large boxing ring in the center, practice areas surrounding it. In the far left corner was the weight area, the far right was the bathrooms and locker rooms. There was even a fighter’s cage for the MMA types. Toward the back was the office, though it was mainly used for storage now. There was also a pro shop but we didn’t get a lot of sales from the local crowd. At least not during the week. On Sunday evenings though, some of the higher class clientele liked to pretend they were “fit and cool”. You could convince them to buy anything and they’d pay whatever price for it. I’m not saying we conned them but hey we had to make a living somehow.

The only sound in the room I noticed was the heavy rhythm of fists.

Well more specifically, fists on leather.

I smiled.

Jax was unwinding.

Walking into the room, I made my way slowly over to one of the practice areas. Sure enough, there was my giant of a stepfather pounding away on a poor defenseless bag. I smirked at the analogy. I felt bad for the bag too. Jax was a giant of a man. Tall and thick with muscle, a menacing figure if one were to look at him. He was a gentle and kind man though. A man who’d been in my life for as long as I could remember. It was one of those strange and yet familiar modern day circumstances. It still unsettled some but I ignored all that crap. As far as I was concerned, this man was my father, the only one I’d ever had. He was there when I needed him, let me cry on his shoulder when I was sad, let me punch it out when I was angry. He never pushed me to do anything I didn’t want but always told me to do my best at the things I did.

The kind of man a father should be.

I came up behind the bag, waiting for the opportunity to grab it.

Spotting him, I held the bag in place.

It also let him know he wasn’t alone.

“Thanks, hun.”

Hun?

“Ummm….Jax….”

He stopped punching.

He peeked around the bag, a look of pure embarrassment on his face.

“Oh shit, Mac, sorry kiddo. For a second there I thought you were your mother.”

It wasn’t the first time.

It wouldn’t be the last either.

Mom and I had similar builds after all. We were the same height, had the same relative shape. We had the same colored skin, the same white blonde hair. We even carried ourselves the same. It was easy to mistake me for her if not paying too much attention. Like I said, it happened before. More than once. I used to get annoyed about it. I used to get angry in fact. Bitter and full of vinegar, snapping at anyone who mistook the two of us. After a while, though I just learned to accept it. I even saw it as a compliment sometimes. Strange I know but there it was. It was still offsetting too.

I mean what teenage boy wants to mistaken for his mother.

Then again who said I was a boy.

Yep All Girl Here.

“You done here?” I asked, letting my deeper, more masculine sounding voice slide away.

“Almost sweetie,” he said, wiping his sweaty brow. “Give me a few and then I’ll the hit the showers.”

I wrinkled my nose from the stench. “You need it.”

Jax rolled his eyes.

I left him to his workout.

Wandering over to the bench, I stripped off my hoodie and my shirts. Sighing in relief, I finally let my “girls” out to breath. Spending seven hours or so a day with them crammed up like that, buried under shirts and a hoodie, it was horrible. They weren’t very big and when they first appeared, I’d been downright horrified. I had no idea what was going on. I tried hiding them for a while but finally, the truth came out. Mom never even batted an eye. She called Jax and they both sat me down. How do you tell your eleven-year-old that the life he always thought was true was a lie?

Ambiguous genitalia.

Thinking about it now, I smirked.

Looking down at my double As in their sports bra, I sighed. I grabbed some boxing tape off the bench, wrapped my hands slowly. Most people in my school were clueless. They saw what they wanted to see and that was enough for them. There were still the assholes though, like Brian and Mark. What they thought was a sissy fag boy was actually just a girl trying to hide. After my parents told me the truth, how I’d never really been a boy, I was angry. I lashed out, tried to deny it. I ended up in counseling for a while. Even then I tried my hardest to be the boy I always thought I was. It didn’t work.

We made arrangements though.

In school I was to remain as I always was. That was my decision. Back in the “dark ages”, they never gave children a choice. Usually, conditions like mine were corrected at birth, without the child ever knowing. It was discovered that doing things like that could be damaging to a child’s psyche. So it was decided in this modern age, to let the child decide. The thing was, I really wasn’t ready. My parents and the doctors respected my decision. There was a compromise though. I could continue to live like I’d always been but at the age of eighteen, I needed to make a choice one way or the other.

Grunting, I started pounding furiously on the speed bag. All the pent-up frustration of the day pouring out of me in one burst. Ok, several fast, rapid bursts.

So here I was in my masquerade. The perfect actor.

A boy pretending to be a girl pretending to be a boy?

Confusing.

Maybe.

I just still wasn’t sure yet though.

Boy?

Girl?

Both?

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF

by:

MacKenzie Hodge has lived a life of secrets and lies. Chief among them is his, it, or her true gender? Now faced with an important decision, Mac has to decide what kind of future they want. Fortunately for Mac, there's a whole summer to decide.

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Author's Note:And here's Ch.3. This chapter will explain a bit more about what's really going on with Mac and what her true gender really is. Those of you looking for some kind of confrontation with Brian will not be disappointed with this chapter either. This story is progressing slowly and I'm sorry for that. I didn't plan for it to be as drawn out as it is. I'm hoping to speed things along soon.

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3.

“I wish you’d grow your hair out more?”

I sighed.

We were in my bedroom, sitting in front of my mirror. Mom was trying once again to brush my hair. She was trying to hide the frown. We’d been here before. Many times. The mirror and the vanity were recent additions, taking the place of a small study desk I used to have. I never used the desk anyway. I did most of my homework at the kitchen table. The vanity was also a compromise. If she bought the vanity, she’d also buy me a new computer. It was a win for me and her. Not that I ever used the vanity though. It sat there gathering dust, just like all the makeup she’d bought me.

“I like it short,” I said, trying to dodge the brush.

“It would just be so much prettier.”

“Mom, stop!”

I’ve had this conversation with her a hundred times before. I also had a perfectly good reason to deny her wish. I like my hair shorter, it was easier to manage. Long hair seemed to be a real pain in the ass. I’d worn a wig or two, besides being incredibly itchy, it was also just too much. Not just because of the length either. I won’t lie. Being a girl scared the hell out of me. I knew I was one, apparently my whole life. But when you’re raised a boy for eleven of your nearly eighteen years, it's not something to get used too.

There was another reason I had short hair.

Punishment.

Call me a spiteful, horrible child but after I found out about my condition, I was angry. Rightly so. Even more so when I found out that Mom knew all about it. I accused her of some nasty things afterward including her hiding it from me for her own selfish means. It was stupid at the time but I really believed it. After all, she used to tell me how much she wanted a little girl and secretly she had one all along. She apparently had a plan in place for the whole thing. When I was old enough, she and Jax were going to reveal the truth to me. She just never thought puberty would beat her too it. So when I started to grow my little booblets, it became clear that there was no way to hide it from me anymore.

So making sure my hair was short started as an act of rebellion.

It was strange really. I never was a horrible child. Though finding out your parents were liars, it hurt. A lot. So I became bound and determined to prove to them I wasn’t a girl like they thought. Contrary to what medical science told them and me. I was a boy. I was going to remain a boy. That was then though. This was now. Things didn’t turn out how I wanted. The medical professionals laid it all out for me. I didn’t have a penis, I never had a penis. I didn’t have testes. I had the full reproductive system of any other woman. I just had a rare birth defect that gave me a larger than normal clitoris. One that for a long time resembled a young boy’s penis. They were willing to do the surgery right then and there. I fought it.

That’s where the counseling came in.

My shrink---Dr. Martin---agreed with me. Though she agreed that at some point in my life I would have some important decisions to make, she convinced my parents that it should be my decision. I was a perfectly healthy young woman after all. I menstruated normally. My body was developing the way it should, albeit a bit slower than normal. I was healthy mentally too. Just a little angry. Also, a child who was raised as one gender all “his” life. I refused to use female pronouns for a long time. I was a boy after all.

Dr. Martin helped with all that.

She also helped with something else.

We made a deal with my parents. I was to remain as my boy self all throughout my schooling. I didn’t want the kids to think I was some kind of freak. Well, more than they already did. I could handle the bullying, what little there was. I just didn’t want to be fully ostracized. You could tell people one thing but most people were simple and single-minded. If they saw a boy, they thought boy. It didn’t matter to them if you had a rare medical condition or not. We worked it out with the school board and the principal. I was exempt from gym class and the locker rooms. I was also tasked with using the school’s unisex bathroom. All things that seemed fairly ok to me. Though my teachers weren’t informed of my true gender, they were told I had a medical condition that allowed me these privileges.

No one questioned it.

Life was good.

School was good.

Like I said though, it was a compromise. One that was slowly coming to an end. I was going to be a senior next year. I was also going to be eighteen in three months. This time next year, I promised everyone I would make my ultimate decision. I knew I couldn’t live as a boy my whole life while still being a girl physically. There were options.

“I’m sorry honey,” Mom said, putting the brush down.

Interrupting my thoughts.

I sighed, grabbed her hand as she started to stand up.

“I know this is hard, Mom, not just for me either” I was sincere. “I’m just not ready for that stuff.”

She touched my cheek. “You promise to tell me when you are?”

I smiled and nodded.

“That’s my girl,” she said, giving me a hug. “My pretty girl.”

I groaned, she laughed.

“Now go, I need to get ready for my lessons.”

Mom tried again.

“Just a tiny bit of lip gloss.”

“Out!”

She laughed as she quickly left the room.

I couldn’t help but laugh a bit too. She meant well. She was trying to help me see what she thought I was clearly missing. I could see it all very clear though. Standing up, I quickly stripped down to my sports bra and boy short panties. Taking a step back, I saw it all. Tall and thin, the girl staring at me in the mirror had boyish proportions. A narrow waist, barely little hip, and small breasts. Just like my mother. Also like my mother was the lean muscle tone. Washboard abs and a tiny six-pack, products of a strict morning workout and exercise regiment. I think the word I was looking for was “athletically toned”. Not overly grotesque like female bodybuilders but not weak and dainty looking either.

It was the kind of body that some girls might dream for.

It was the kind that I worked hard to maintain.

Staring at myself for a few more minutes, I finally put on some clothes. I donned my usual workout outfit, consisting of a fresh sports bra, stretchy workout pants and a skin tight workout tank. A couple of years ago it would have bothered the hell out of me. All this tight and form-fitting gear. Now I just shrugged it off. I stopped trying to deny that part of my life. They were just clothes after all. I had no problem with that. Sure I’d never be caught dead in a dress or skirt but wearing tight things didn’t bother me anymore. I couldn’t deny that I was a girl. I just wasn’t ready to embrace it though. The boy in me was just too strong to succumb to the subtle and deadly pull of all things feminine.

There were already cracks in my armor though.

The other day I caught myself absently watching a chick flick with my mother. Then tearing up at the end when the girl found her Mr. Right. Then a month ago, Claudia was playing around with some nail polish. Mom let her wear it but only on the weekends. She was sitting at the kitchen table, doing her nails like usual. I was reading something for school and didn’t even blink when she started painting my nails. When I finally discovered what she did, I didn't freak like I usually did either. I smirked and caught myself admiring them for a second. It scared me. Not as bad as what happened the other day though.

Admiration.

I caught myself staring.

Not at a girl either.

I was taking my usual jog around the city. I did it every morning when I could. I was running through the park when I noticed a couple of the guys from school playing a basketball game. I never really bothered to stop and take a look before but it was a Shirts vs. Skins game. Tommy Fucking Duncan. They were in process of picking teams when I went by and Tommy stripped off his shirt, exposing a rather toned and muscled torso. I nearly tripped over staring. They were amazing. He was amazing. I’d always been so careful about staring but I just couldn’t help it. I was mesmerized. Thankfully that spell was broken when the guys noticed and started cat calling me. I was wearing my tight pants after all. I was just lucky I was wearing a hoodie and my face was concealed. As it was I nearly died of embarrassment.

I couldn’t stop blushing just thinking about it.

Biting my lip, I put on the rest of my clothes.

I usually covered my workout stuff with sweats. Today it was a sweatpants, t-shirt, and the usual hoodie combo. Androgynous and boy-like. Just like usual. My masquerade. It hid my workout gear quite nicely too. I didn’t want to run into anyone I knew while wearing something like that. Most people thought I was a boy after all. I could only imagine how someone might react if they found out the truth about me. As it was, there were already too many people who knew. Like the school officials and the people who worked at the Gym. I hated that Donnie knew. I mean it was hard for him not too after all. I taught my lessons wearing my gear, I couldn’t exactly hide it.

He was surprisingly cool about it.

He also swore to keep my secret.

I think part of that was fear. He was at the gym every day, he saw what I could do.

I quickly finished getting ready. I usually carried a workout bag with me. A spare set of clothes, a towel, a bottle of water and some energy bars. My usual kit. On Mom’s insistence, I also kept a brush in there. Not that I ever used it though. Ok, I did because I’m not a slob but I didn’t try to go out of my way to make myself pretty. If you ask Mom, I was pretty anyway. Yeah right.

I found Mom in the kitchen after I left my room.

“You’re wearing that?”

I rolled my eyes. “My stuff is on under this.”

I don’t think Mom and I were ever going to see eye to eye on things. She respected my decision but I don’t think she ever really liked it. Not that she would ever try to force me to do something I hated but I knew what she wanted. She wanted her daughter. I wasn’t denying her that. I was her daughter after all. I just wasn’t quite ready to let everyone else know that. And it's not like I didn’t try. A part of the arrangement I made with my parents is that while in school I could be whoever I wanted to be. Over the summer though---on vacation---I had to at least try to be myself. No amount of explaining to them that “I was me” seemed to sway them. So I wore the clothes Mom picked out for me. I did the things with her that she wanted me to do. I was her daughter. I’m not going to say I liked it but I wasn’t overly miserable about it either.

Well, at least not at first.

I remember the first girly bathing suit.

Shudder.

“Tell me you’re not going to spend all day in the gym, you have some more packing to do after all.”

I nodded.

“I’ll be home as soon as my lessons are done.”

Packing though.

Yuck.

And I still hadn’t told her my plans.

How I didn’t want to go on vacation with them this year. A couple of days ago, it had just been a stray thought. Now after a few days of thinking about it, I was determined. I needed to take my own vacation. Now I just needed to convince my parents. I knew Jax was an easy sell. He was a softy. All I had to do was bat my eyes, put on the innocent sweet girl act and he was putty in my hands. There were some advantages to being a girl. It didn’t take me long to figure that out. Claudia quickly learned them too. We could both easily manipulate Jax. Mom was a different story. I already knew how she was going to act to my decision. She was always very overprotective of me. She had a reason to be. I was kidnapped once after all. That was a long long time ago though and I knew how to defend myself now. I wasn’t a pushover.
I also wasn’t a little girl anymore either.

And I wasn’t her.

I knew she’d try to use that against me. I was ready for it. Mom was my age when she started modeling. She was also my age when she started to let her life get out of control. The pull of it all was too much for her. But she didn’t really have a solid foundation to fall back on like I do. Her parents all but abandoned her when she went on that reality show. She let herself fall into that rampant lifestyle. Mom and Jax were different. I was different too. It's how that worked. Parents make the mistakes so that they’re children don’t. Mom raised me better. She knew the risks and told me about them every day. So I was a better person.

I planned on using that against her.

Not in a cruel way but in a way that showcased that I wasn’t going to be stupid like she was.

My hope is that it might sway her to my side of things.

Fingers crossed.

I opened my mouth to say it. To tell her my plans. To rebel against family vacation.

And I’m a chicken.

Nothing.

Shit.

Instead, I gave her my usual hug and the “See ya later” line before heading out the door.

A yellow bellied coward.

Damn.

“Thank you, Miss Kenzie!”

All of my students thanked me at once, bowing their heads as they did so. Just like they’d been taught to do. I smiled at each of them, thanking each in turn. Its what we did at the end of every lesson. Then they stood at attention, waiting to be dismissed. I didn’t make them wait long. They quickly dispersed, running off to the locker rooms to change. I watched them go before grabbing my towel off the bench and wiping my sweat-drenched brow. I couldn’t help but smile. Children at that age were precious. They pulled at my heartstrings. They also melted my false manly armor. I could pretend to be a guy as long as I wanted but when it came to kids, I was all girl. I blame Claudia. I put up with my tough boy act up until the first time she called me her sister. As soon as she did, I was done. I crumbled under the pressure. I’m still convinced Mom put her up to it but it didn’t matter.

She was right.

We were sisters.

Up to that point, I’d just been too much of an idiot to accept it.

There was something else about kids that I didn’t want to admit. Something biological. I was a fully functioning woman after all. I had a period once a month and was able to have children if I wanted. Nothing like that really seemed all that important to me until I started teaching these classes about a year ago. Up until that point, I struggled with who I was and what I wanted. I still struggle with it. Kids were a weakness though. Deep down inside I knew I wanted one, even if it meant giving birth to him or her. I knew what all of that meant too. I just wasn’t ready for that kind of thing. I don’t think I ever would be. I know what my body wanted but my mind, it was still pretty much set in guy mode. Kids were cute and great but they were something else too. Something final.

When all my kids were away, I wandered over to the office to get dressed.

I didn’t want to undress in front of any of my students.

Didn’t want to confuse them.

Though I kept most of myself pretty well hidden, there was always that chance.

What I once would have called “Little Macky” was pretty small though. It was strange to look at now because clearly, it looked nothing at all like a penis. To a young kid though, I had no idea. It was the only penis I’d ever seen and it looked pretty normal to me. My parents didn’t let me watch movies where there was nudity and of course I didn’t look at naked pics on the Internet. So as far as I was concerned, it was what every other boy had. It wasn’t until later that I found out I was wrong. For one thing, it was very small. If it had been a true penis, it would have been one that a six or seven-year-old possessed. It was more like an elongated clitoris, penis-shaped but definitely not one. It should have caused me more concern but it wasn’t until I started to grow breasts did I begin to question everything.

I remember being scared out of my mind.

Thinking about it now didn’t bring back any good memories.

I forced those thoughts from my mind as I stripped out of my sweat-soaked workout clothes. I changed into a fresh bra and panty set then put on my sweats and t-shirt again. Sticking my sweaty clothes in my gym bag, I wandered back out of the office. Most of my kids were already leaving. One boy was idling standing by with his mother, looking pretty awkward. I smiled at the pair, they waved before leaving. I think his name was Jared, he was one of my newer ones. Like most, he was eager to learn. I was eager to teach too. While not exactly martial arts, I taught my students a blend of techniques to help defend themselves in case someone tried to harm them. I’m not talking about playground scuffles either. I’m talking more along the lines of “Stranger Danger” scenarios. I wanted to make sure that if anyone ever tried to make off with one of my “kids”, they’d get a serious hurting for doing so.

Elementary school children weren’t my only students. I taught a Middle School level class as well. Usually on Sunday nights. I also taught Self Defense to Women for a period of a couple of weeks in the Fall. Most of my students in that class were middle-aged housewives. They wanted to be able to defend themselves in case of a mugging or worse, rape. I was more than happy to oblige. I taught those women how to really defend themselves. I wanted them to kick the shit out of their attacker. I felt like I owed it to women everywhere to make them total badasses.

“You done for the day?” asked Donnie, who was currently emptying the trash cans.

I nodded. “Yep, the rest of the weekend is mine to be lazy.”

I didn’t have any classes tomorrow.

In fact, I was done with classes for two months.

Usually, during our vacation time, someone else took over classes. Jax usually left one of his old SEAL buddies, Mick, in charge of things. Who he assigned to take over, I didn’t know. I just knew when I got back from my time off, my students were still primed and ready to go. Even the middle schoolers. Whoever took over did a damn good job of whipping my little disciples into shape.
"You look better when you’re not pretending to be something you’re not.”

His compliment caught me off guard.

I blushed. “Thanks.”

I left before things got any more awkward.

I almost started to head home when I remembered I used all the bread up the other day. I tried to eat a sandwich every afternoon. It was part of my balanced diet. I went through a lot of bread. I usually went out of my way to replace it too. Checking my watch, it was just going on noon. Claudia didn’t get out of her ballet lesson until one so I had plenty of time to get home before the carpool dropped her off. Mom of course never had work on the weekends. Today though, she was spending the afternoon with an old college friend. Mom and Patty got together at least once or twice a month. With Jax busy with pro shop inventory today, it was my job to babysit Claudia for the afternoon.

I had plenty of time to make it to Gruber’s Market a few blocks away.

Gruber’s wasn’t one of those little corner grocery stores. It was a free-standing building with its own parking lot and everything. I think it was probably the last one like that in the city. Most were connected to other places, like everything else around here. Because it was its own place, it had a larger inventory of things. Most people didn’t bother with it though so it wasn’t as popular as some of the corner store places. The city was all about getting in and out of places fast. I liked the slower pace of shopping without knowing what I wanted.

Walking into the store, I smiled at old man Gruber before getting what I came for. I took a moment to look for anything else as well. Browsing the aisles, I managed to score myself a large package of AirHeads too.

My candy of choice.

The store was pretty quiet today. There was no one in line when I went to pay for my purchases.

“Have a good day, Miss!” said Randy, the cashier.

Shit, my hood was down.

I smiled, thanked him and left.

As soon as I stepped outside, I pulled my hood back up. Randy had been my age but thankfully not from my school. It was just as well, he blushed when he rang me out. I didn’t want to have that complication come Fall. People had been blushing at me a lot lately. Not just Randy. It was strange that it was only guys though? It was almost as if they thought I was pretty or something? I knew that couldn’t be though, I didn’t wear any makeup and I definitely didn’t go out of the way to make myself desirable to anyone. Yet all the blushing was starting to disturb me. It made me question my disguise too. Maybe I would have to kick things up another notch or two just to be on the safe side?
Trying not to think about it, I started down the sidewalk toward the house.

I checked my watch, there was plenty of time left.

Or there might have been.

“Brian, I said No.”

That voice.

Tess.

Looking around, I spotted them. They were in the parking lot behind Gruber’s. Brian had Tess pressed up against the wall, trying and failing to kiss her. She didn’t look too happy. Shit. A small part of me wanted to just leave, forget I saw anything and go about my day. After all, it wasn’t any of my business. I said a small part because the rest of me was screaming, “GO HELP THAT GIRL”. Double Shit. I cursed my conscience and quickly stuffed my purchases into my gym bag. No reason to damage them if I didn’t have too. Then taking a deep breath, I stepped into the parking lot.

“C’mon babe, you’re just overreacting a bit.”

“I’m not overreacting anything. I said we’re through and I meant it.”

She tried to get away but he had her firmly pressed against the wall, both his arms on either side of her. The kind of gesture that told me she definitely didn’t want to be there. It also told me that Brian didn’t want her getting away. It was just the right bit of information I needed to finally say what I was thinking:

“What’s going on here?”

Tess looked at me.

I saw the relief on her face.

“Kenny!”

Brian growled, turning his head.

“Fuck off, Hodge, this doesn’t concern you!”

` I could of and should have taken his advice.

I knew what happened when you disagreed with a Ross.

Then again, I just couldn’t leave Tess.

“I think Tess disagrees.”

I dropped my bag on the ground, slowly moving it behind me with a foot.

I had no intention of engaging Brian in a fight. He was bigger and stronger than I was. Sure I probably could take him but it would be long and drawn out. He had a size and reach advantage too. A couple of direct hits from him would probably hurt pretty bad. I would worry about that if it came though. My first order of business here was to get him away from her. Now there were a few ways to do it. The most direct approach would be just to insult him. That would only make him angry though and an angry Brian in this situation spelled disaster.

No, I had to outsmart him.

I pulled out my cell, holding it up.

“I already called the cops,” I said then pointed the phone at him, clicking a pic. “And I have some pretty damning evidence of you trying to force yourself on her.”

He was after all still pinning her to the wall.

Brian smirked. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“No, I’m not” she snapped, “we broke up two days ago.”

“The lady seems to disagree.”

“She doesn’t know what she wants,” said Brian, licking his lips.

Brian lowered one of his arms. Tess took the opportunity. I had to give her credit, she was faster than I thought. She quickly bolted, running right toward me. Brian didn’t have time to react before she was safe and sound behind me. Now I held all the cards. Hopefully, it was enough. Then Tess touched me. It wasn’t a tender or affectionate touch. It was a simple hand on my side, a safe and secure gesture on her part.
“It's him isn’t it,” said Brian, his eyes narrowing. “You left me for the fucking freak!”

Shit.

There it was.

The situation I didn’t want.

Brian’s nostrils flared and he came at me. I was right, he was fast. His fist went right for my head, stupid rookie mistake. Punching someone in the head was hard to do because it was a small target and the swing---if someone was prepared---was easy to dodge. Which is what I did. It only seemed to anger him more. He took another swing, once again aiming for my head. It probably would have connected if I wasn’t a skilled fighter. Aikido was all about using your opponent’s strengths against him. A charging fool was easy to dodge and easier to manipulate into tiring himself out. It helped that Brian was a big and strong guy too. He spent more energy in his lunges and swings.

Trying and failing to hit me time and again.

I dodged and weaved around him, turning him to face where I wanted.

Making him move where I wasn’t.

What I didn’t anticipate was him backing me into the wall.

Shit.

He took another punch, aiming straight on for my face.

Double shit.

I had no choice.

I snapped my head to the side quickly, turning my body so that I literally pulled his body into the full force of the punch. All of which happened in seconds. There was a loud crack as his fist connected with the wall. A split second later, another sound followed---Brian screaming. He’d clearly put a lot into that one because his hand and maybe even his wrist were definitely broken.

“You son of a bitch!”

He swung wildly around, swinging his other hand toward me.

It wasn’t a punch at all. Just a mad gesture in hopes of tagging me.

He failed.

He staggered, spitting.

“Brian back off,” I said calmly, stepping away. “Your hand is broken. It's over. Let me call an ambulance.”

"Fuck off!”

“Brian, maybe you should listen to him.”

Tess was somewhere behind me, actual concern in her voice.

“BITCH!”

Brian turned like a raging bull, all fury and nothing else. He made a dash for her. He didn’t get very far. He stumbled over his own feet, staggering forward like a drunken fool. I didn’t even have to help this one. He was on his knees a moment later. Panting and gasping. I tried reaching for him, hoping to help him up. He smacked my arm away. He tried to get up himself but he staggered again then collapsed.

He stopped moving a second later.

“Is...he...he...dead?”

I sighed. “He just broke his hand. Flailing around like that afterward wasn’t very smart. The shock finally kicked in. He’s fine, he’s just not going to be getting up for a while.”

A moment or so later, Randy came running out of the grocery store.

Just great.

Looking around, I noticed a CC camera on the wall, just above the back door.

“The cameras caught it all. The police are already on their way” he said, panting and staring in awe, first at Brian then at me. “You’re...that was amazing!”

Great, just great.

I shrugged. “I told him to stop.”

Randy nodded. “I saw. The police will too. I’ll tell them everything.”

Tess put her hand on my arm. “I’ll do the same. Brian is an ass. There’s no way his Dad is going to get him out of this one.”

Shit, I’d forgotten about that.

The sound of sirens filled the air. Not just the police either. About ten minutes, two police cars and an ambulance arrived. Tess, Randy and I wandered off to the side so the paramedics weren’t hindered. Mr. Gruber came out to stand with us as well. He was a good man, kind and always welcoming. He reminded me a bit of my grandfather. Always very friendly and happy to help you if you needed it. He was a generous man too, donating all his leftover stock to the local soup kitchens and shelters. He was also the kind of man who had no love for the Ross family. A few years back, Charles Ross tried to buy out his store unsuccessfully. So there had been a slight smile on his face when he saw Brian laying there.

I couldn’t blame him.

I was inwardly smiling myself.

While the paramedics worked, I reluctantly called Mom. To say she was pissed was an understatement. First, she scolded me but when I managed to tell her all the details, she tried to hide her praise. Her relief too.

“Kenzie, sweetheart, lest you forget you’re not really a boy.”

It was Mom’s way of saying I shouldn’t be fighting.

For once I agreed.

“I’m ok,” I said, a second later. “I didn’t lay a hand on him. He did all the work all by himself. But just in case, you might want to get the lawyer ready.”

I knew how the Ross’s worked after all.

We’d been there before.

Mom sighed. “I’ll call your father and let him know. I’m sure he’ll be there soon.”

He was too. Within about five minutes. I think he ran over. Jax didn’t look happy. He gave me that look. When he saw Brian sitting in the back of the ambulance, conscious and glaring at me, Jax gave me another look. It was the “Here we go again” variety. I knew to expect a lecture from him later. I had promised him long ago never again to get involved with Brian Ross and I’d been good on my promise. Its just well, I didn’t like to see men push around women who couldn’t defend themselves. Hell, I didn’t like seeing anyone get pushed around, to be honest.

The police took our statements.

Randy verified what Tess and I said. He even added that it was all caught on film. That was going to go a long way in backing our story. Tess was able to fill in what I missed. Apparently, she came to the store alone. She was leaving when Brian confronted her in the parking lot. She didn’t even know he was there. She wasn’t even sure how he knew she was there. She just broke up with him, on the last day of school apparently. She got tired of his jealous ways and always wanting to know where she was and who she was with. So she ended it. Brian apparently didn’t see it that way. He tried to force himself on her and that’s when I arrived.

Tess held onto me the whole time she talked.

In a way that most guys would have gone head over heels for.

Me, I was uncomfortable.

I was more uncomfortable with the way she was looking at me.

I came to her rescue because she was in trouble. It had been the right thing to do. Tess knew that. Yet the way she stared at me now, it told me something else. Something I hadn’t expected. She was crushing on me. Maybe not intentionally but it was still there. I was her Rescuer and she wanted to repay my kindness. I saw it in her eyes. They were the same eyes that a lustful girl gets in movies. They bore into me, seemingly peering into my very soul. They found something too. Something that she didn’t find but I sure did. They found my stupidity. This would never have happened if I’d done the proper thing all those years ago.

Brian would never have taken a swing at a girl.

Tess would have been grateful for my rescue but she wouldn’t be staring at me like that.

Shit.

I’d been a fool.

After the police were done with the questioning, they made sure to follow the leaving ambulance. They were on their way to the hospital with some questions of their own for Brian.

I slowly detached myself from Tess.

“Can I call you later?” she asked innocently.

“Sure,” I said, giving her my cell number.

I meant to give it to her a couple of days ago anyway.

“Tess, honey,” said a voice.

Her mother. Tess gave me a quick hug before running over to her mother and throwing herself into the woman’s arms. I watched for a moment before turning away.

I still held my cell.

I texted Mom.

YOU WERE RIGHT. I’VE BEEN AN IDIOT. THIS CHARADE HAS GONE ON LONG ENOUGH.

I sighed before typing the last bit.

IF YOU WANT YOUR DAUGHTER, I’LL GIVE HER TO YOU.

My phone rang a minute or so later.

“Are you sure, honey?” she asked, surprised.

“Yes, I’m sure,” I said then took a deep breath. “On one condition...”

No chickening out this time.

I was getting my vacation whether she liked it or not.

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF

by:

MacKenzie Hodge has lived a life of secrets and lies. Chief among them is his, it, or her true gender? Now faced with an important decision, Mac has to decide what kind of future they want. Fortunately for Mac, there's a whole summer to decide.

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Author's Note: Another Monday, time for another chapter. I'm sorry about how slow this time is going. Every time I think its starting to progress, one of the chapters takes on a mind of its own. I do at some point hope to get her on her actual vacation lol. In this chapter, Mac's mother is not going to come across as likable. I was told that, well the reader told me how much they didn't like her here. Don't judge her too harshly, she's doing what she thinks is best. Don't judge Mac too harshly either. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter :).

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4.

I lied.

Though at the time I didn’t realize it was a lie. Now I definitely did. Maybe it was the stress of the situation or maybe it was because I was tired of being pushed around. Or maybe it was because I was scared of the affection that Tess was showering me with. I was used to the stares or the occasional blushing but that’s all it ever was. Guys would even try to flirt from time to time but I always ignored it. Partially because I thought they were being polite but mostly because they were strangers. It was usually when I lowered my guard too. I’d either forget to wear my hood like at the grocery store or I’d wear a normal bra that didn’t squish my girls so much. Regardless, whenever someone did notice my true gender, I dealt with it.

No one had ever actually given my masquerade any attention though.

I didn’t really have any friends.

Not real ones anyway.

I had plenty of people that I knew and talked too on a regular basis, like Tess for instance. I never really considered her a friend though. We didn’t hang out together outside of school. Even in school we didn’t sit together at lunch or meet up in the hallway outside of our brief locker conversations. We were acquaintances. I had a lot of those. Not just in real life either. In some of the games I played and the forums, I visited online. I didn’t know any of those people in real life. It was easy that way. Sometimes it was hard enough keeping my lives separate from one another, adding friends would have just complicated things more.

I used to have them though.

Before “Ken” vanished into a disguise.

They were all gone now though. Well still there but gone from my life. I couldn’t take the risk. I also didn’t want them to think I was a freak. Ok, I’ll admit it, I was afraid to lose them. So I did the only rational thing I could think of and cut them out of my life before they could do the same to me. They were bitter and confused for a while but they got over it quickly. That’s how these things worked.

What does any of that have to do with being a Liar?

Well…

“I can’t do this!”

Mom sighed.

We were sitting in front of my vanity, she was in the process of putting some light makeup on my face. After my revelation that I was tired of pretending to be a boy, Mom had been ecstatic of course. The first thing she did was take me out shopping. She was like a whirlwind crazy lady, dragging me from one store to the next. We bought more clothes than I could fit in my clothes. Definitely more than I was ever going to wear. I tried to stop her but once Mom got going on something there was no stopping her. That was a couple of days ago. She’d been building up to this moment ever since. She made a lot of strategic purposes without me too. Ones she was secretive about and refused to reveal to me unless I agreed to this very moment.

“You’re the one who wanted to do this” she reminded me.

I nodded but that was two days ago.

I’d had plenty of time to think about it since.

Let’s be honest here.

I was scared.

Being Ken was safe and easy. I’d been “Ken” all my life. People associated the disguise with me. The problem is, that’s all it was. It might have been all it ever was. I tried thinking back on my life before, back when I thought I was a boy. Save playing baseball for that tiny bit of time, I never really was much of a boy. I didn’t like to rough house, I didn’t like to get dirty, I hated doing guy things. Jax tried to get me to watch sports with him but I thought it was boring. He tried getting me to camping with him but the great outdoors was messy and smelly. The only thing we actually ever truly bonded with was fighting. I loved being in the ring, learning new things. Jax once said I had an aptitude for it.
I had other non-boy like hobbies too.

Like the acting.

I’m not saying acting wasn’t masculine or anything. I’m just saying that most boys my age didn’t go out of their way to do it. I loved it though. I loved putting on a costume and pretending to be someone I wasn’t. Pretending. I was really good at that. When puberty hit and my body started to change in ways I never expected, I decided to still pretend. Pretend to be a boy. I was good at it. Apparently, I’d been doing it for nearly eleven years of my life. Being a boy was easy for me. It was all about the way I walked, what I wore, how I kept my hair. When my voice didn’t change, I changed it. When my breasts started to grow and my hips widened, I hid them.

I did a really good job too.

There were some things I couldn’t hide though.

For one, my laugh.

I had a really girly laugh.

I hated it.

But I am a girl after all. I’m supposed to have a girl’s laugh. It's just when you’re supposed to be a boy and you laugh like a girl, it gets noticed. So I tried to not laugh around others. It wasn’t easy. It was also the least of my problems. The other one was boys. I could deny it all I wanted it but I loved boys. I loved the way they looked and the way they smelled. A particularly gorgeous one made me weak in the knees. I was a puddle of goo when they smiled at me. I wanted to be with them, I wanted to be held by them, I wanted to be kissed by them. They made me hot and bothered and at first, I tried to hide it. I thought I was turning gay. But girls were supposed to like boys. Not that a girl liking a girl is wrong its just well I wasn’t that kind of girl apparently.

Dr. Martin and I had a lot of conversations about it.

She told me that these feelings were natural. They might have been but not for me. I was trying to be a boy after all. I couldn’t let other boys see me staring at them or else they’d think I was gay. Blood in the water. The names were bad enough but if they actually confronted me about it, tried to fight me, I’d either get exposed as a girl or expelled for beating the shit out of them. Neither scenario was beneficial to me. So I tried to ignore my feelings. It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t doctor approved either. I loved Dr. Martin, she was great. She just didn’t understand how difficult things were for me.

No one truly did.

“Honey its just makeup” said, Mom, after I didn’t respond for some time.

“It's not just makeup” I hissed finally.

Mom set down the eyeliner pencil she was holding.

Looking in the mirror, seeing what she’d done so far, yeah it definitely wasn’t just makeup.

There was a girl in that mirror.

A pretty girl.

I think I’d been in denial for far too long. Everyone kept telling me how much I looked like my mother. It's something that most kids expect to hear. “Oh, you look like your Mom or your Dad”, typical stuff. The problem is I was a daughter that looked like her mother. Mom was a model, a supermodel. I’d seen plenty of photos of her when she was my age. I saw those really bad Butcher Beach movies she was in too. I knew what Mom looked like when she was younger. Looking in the mirror now---with just the subtlest hints of makeup---I looked like her. I was Caroline Russell 2.0 and it scared the hell out of me.

I wasn’t supposed to be pretty.

I was Ken Hodge.

Ok so never really Ken but I was trying to be.

Ken was not supposed to be pretty.

I started to tear up, I couldn’t help it.

Mom put a gentle on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, it was too much, too fast.”

She understood.

“I just...”

“Say no more,” she said, wrapping me in a tight hug.

I couldn’t remember the last time Mom hugged me like that. I found myself wrapping my arms around her too. It was nice. Is this what mothers and daughters did? Did they hug all the time? Cried on one another's shoulder? Is this what I would have to look forward too from now on?

No not from now on.

Until September.

I was still bound and determined to finish school as “Ken”. I made that abundantly clear to my mother when I told her my decision. I was just going to take this opportunity to explore things more this summer. In the past, I only ever dressed as a girl on vacation. It really wasn’t all that different than dressing as a boy, to be honest. The clothes were cut different, some of them tighter on my body of course. They were still shorts and tees though. I never let her put makeup on me and I hated heels. I knew how to walk in them of course but I refused to wear them. Just like skirts and dresses. I could never wear bikinis either. Not that I would if I could but my condition didn’t really allow it. My protrusion down below was too small to tuck like transgender boys could do and it was noticeable enough in a bikini bottom to draw attention. So I resorted to wearing a one piece with a wrap around. There were other means to try and hide it but I didn’t want to go that far.

Though Mom tried, she didn’t press the issue.

There was something I didn’t tell her though. It was smaller now. Like I said, it was like the size of a five-year-old's penis. Or least it used to be. I’m not sure how something like this worked but as I got older, it seemed to get smaller. Dr. Crane---my specialist---told me that it might be a possibility. Though it would never revert to a normal size without corrective measures, it could be small enough to pass as a normal girl. It started to get smaller about a year ago. Still not small enough for a bikini but small enough that it could pass for a large camel toe. Ok, so I’ll admit I never actually tried the bikini thing, at least not for some time. Mom tried a few years back but we saw it wouldn’t work so we didn’t try again.

It's the reason I wasn’t telling her about the shrinkage.

I knew how she worked.

“So” she said, after our very long and awkward silence. “We have all afternoon, what do you want to do?”

What did I want to do?

It had been a couple of days since my run-in with Brian. After getting over the initial shock of it all, my parents and I had a long talk. That’s when I dropped the whole vacation bombshell on them. Of course, Mom freaked. She tried to use the “you’re a seventeen-year-old girl and there’s no way I’m letting you” excuse/argument. Like I suspected Jax was on my side. I didn’t even have to rope him into it either. He fought my case, using responsibility, maturity and a “need to find herself” as his argument. It took some convincing but Jax and I were able to finally win Mom over. It was all pretty anti-climatic actually. Mom quickly came around to the idea, she even saw some merit in it. Though she did give me “rules” I had to follow:

1.I wasn’t allowed to leave the country.
2. I wasn’t allowed to throw any parties.
3.No Drugs or Alcohol of ANY kind.
4.No One was allowed into the house unless I got permission first
5. NO BOY MODE

The first three were pretty obvious and nothing she had to worry about from me. I had no intention of leaving the county for starters. The state sure but not the country. I didn’t let her know about that though. I figured I’d fill them in as soon as I was on my way. Rules 2 and 3 went together. Also a No Brainer for me, I mean I had no friends for starters. There was no one to invite to a party or into the house for that matter. I guess Rule 4 could be folded into that as well. Rule 3 was easy. I’d never actually touched any drugs or alcohol of any kind. I wouldn’t even know where to get drugs, well the illegal kind. Alcohol I had to be twenty-one. None of my fake IDs were for over the age of eighteen. Yes, I had a few fake ones. Basically so I didn’t raise questions if I was out in “boy mode”.

Speaking of Boy Mode, that last rule wasn’t fair.

I was running scared.

I’ll admit it.

My mother clearly figured it out too because she wanted me to stick to my guns.

I opened my mouth to answer her question, she stopped me.

“Before you say something, need I remind you that laying around on your butt all day is not a good enough answer.”

I sighed. “So then what’s the right answer?”

Mom smiled.

Oh God, I hated that smile.

The mall.

The bane of my existence.

My mother’s mecca.

Ok, so I’m over exaggerating a bit on that last part but not by much. I think my mother and my sister spent more time here then they did at home. I never really could understand the pull. Maybe its because I spent the first eleven years of my life being a “boy” or maybe it was because I didn’t really care to shop. Most of the time I would go to the store, get what I want and leave. My mother called it a “Man’s way to shop”. It was one of the reason that she hated taking me shopping. Her complaining about the way I liked to shop was the chief reason I hated going shopping with her.

And yet here I was.

Not by choice that’s for sure.

“You wanted to torture me, didn’t you?”

We just pulled into the parking garage, Mom finally found a spot toward the top. She rolled her eyes as she shut the engine off.

“Stop being so overdramatic.”

I wasn’t.

“What are we doing here, again?”

“You need some more outfits,” she said as she got out of the car. “Plus I think a quick salon visit might be nice.”

“Salon, you said nothing about a salon!”

I got out of the car quickly. Mom was already making her way toward the elevators. For a woman wearing high heeled boots, she was moving remarkably fast. I actually had to run a bit to catch her. She was already at the elevator, stepping inside. I barely got in myself before the door closed.

The parking garage was five stories, whereas the mall itself was only three. We had to park at the top, so the ride down to the third floor was pretty quiet. There wasn’t even any of that annoying elevator music to keep us company. Just as well. I passed the time thinking about how crazy my mother was. When I told her I wanted to try this whole girl thing, I never thought she’d take it this far. I mean sure I was a girl but Mom was going all out full girly mode. I wasn’t expecting that. I should have, considering how girly Claudia was. I just thought maybe Mom might keep it a little more low key for me. She knew I was new to all of this and I wasn’t exactly the most feminine thing around. When she did some clothes shopping for me the other day though, she went a little overboard.

Lots of little shorts, tight jeans and tiny tank tops.

Clothes that showed off my figure.

Clothes that screamed “GIRL!”.

I knew what she was trying to do. She was trying to throw me headfirst into the deep end. You gotta sink to swim. She was trying to overwhelm me with all things super girly so that I could get the full immersion. It was a nasty and cruel thing to do. She justified it all by telling me, “you’ve been denying yourself for too long, you have a lot of catching up to do.” When I’d done the whole girl thing during vacations, I usually just went very low key with things. Some unisex shirts and shorts. The bare minimum as it were. Mom wasn’t going to let me do that this time.

We entered the mall proper after the very short elevator ride.

I was always flabbergasted by the mall, especially this early in the day. It wasn’t even noon and it was already jam-packed with people. Lake View Galleria wasn’t the only mall in the city but it was definitely the largest and most popular. Three floors, a crap ton of stores and far too many kids my own age. Some of them might even be classmates. I suddenly felt really naked. I pulled my hood as far down over my head as I could and tried unsuccessfully to pull on the bottoms of the tiny shorts Mom got me to wear. I hated shorts, they showed off my bony, chalk white chicken legs.

Plus Mom made me shave this morning.

My legs were all smooth and they creeped me out.

Mom looped her arm through mine, smacking at hands.

“I think we need to hit the shops first,” she said, leading me to my doom. “Then lunch before we hit the salon.”

I groaned.

I tried digging my heels into the floor but the damn thing was marble or something.

As it was, my new girly flip flops had very little traction anyway.

When we got to our first teen girl-oriented shop, I tuned out. Mom took charge and started picking out things she liked. I had tunnel vision the whole time. She kept holding things up to me and putting them in the chart after asking me what I thought. I didn’t even get a chance to say anything before she moved onto the next article of clothing. I hated that. I just couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t protesting. I mean she was taking charge of my life and I was a silent passenger to the whole thing. The strange thing was, Mom had great fashion sense. I guess having a former supermodel for a mother was a blessing in that respect. I still couldn’t help but wonder who she was really shopping for?

“Go try these on," she said, pointing to all the things currently overflowing our cart.

“All of it?”

“Is something wrong, sweetie?”

This was it, my moment.

I opened my mouth to say something and…

Fucking chicken again.

“No Mom, I’m fine.”

Dammit.

Why was it so hard for me to tell her No?

I mean I stood up and took charge of my vacation, why couldn’t I take charge of this? Was I that much of a pushover and a coward or was it something else? Was I scared of my mother? Or was I really scared of myself? This had been my decision after all---deciding to try being a girl---and yet so far I’d done nothing to embrace it. Well, at least nothing on my own. As soon as I made the decision, Mom took charge of it. I let her too. The last few days it had been the Mom Show. She went shopping for me. She made me shave my legs. She made me wear these stupid clothes. She made me sit in front of that mirror with that makeup. Never once did she ask Me what I wanted.

And I was letting her do it.

Sighing, I looked at the cart full of clothes.

Clothes I hated.

Clothes I wanted to burn.

“Something wrong, honey?”

Yes.

“No,” I said, defeated. “Its just a lot.”

Mom laughed. “We’re not buying all of this. We just need to see what fits and what looks good on you. You’ll see.”

Mom was using “You” in that sentence but there was a lot of “We” as well. I couldn’t help but wonder as I looked from her to the clothes and back again if this was really about me at all? When I told Mom I wanted to give being a girl a shot, she said she'd help. I’d been here before though. The last few summers like I mentioned. It had always been a small, low key thing though. I would wear some clothes on a boat for a few weeks then I’d come home and they’d go away. I never fully committed to it though. It was almost as if I was a cross-dressing boy and not a real girl. Mom tried to be supportive but it visually pained her too. At the end of the summer, all those clothes went away and I was back to being Me again.

I didn’t have that option here.

I made that decision.

I made that promise.

Taking an armful of the offending garments, I trudged off to the changing rooms. I stripped to my skivvies quickly, trying not to think about it. I also tried to put my mind somewhere else. Then I smiled. A play. It was simple enough that I was surprised I’d never thought of it before. I was an actor after all. I’d been so wrapped up in all this emotional drama and things, I’d almost forgotten that. Clothes were nothing more than a costume right? Maybe I could make the Girl Me a costume as well? I’d done it before. Every summer in fact. I would put on the clothes, make a small effort and “play the girl” for my mother. I knew it wasn’t supposed to be acting but it really was. I didn’t know how to be a girl, a real one I mean.

I would often use the word masquerade when describing my “Ken mode” at school but was it really? Wasn’t Kenzie really the masquerade?

Taking a deep breath, I put on the first outfit.

I stepped out of the changing room and let my mother gush over me.

I rolled my eyes.

Be Kenzie.

Play the Role.

I smiled. “I’m not sure I like this one,” I said, dropping the masculine in my voice.

Mom didn’t even blink when she spoke, “That’s why we have so much honey, we need to find out what fits you.”

There’s that “We” bit again.

I went back into the changing room.

` The montage began.

Outfit after outfit. I stripped, dressed, faked a smile and a preen, took the bullshit compliments in stride then did it all over again. Over and over again. I lost track. I’m not sure exactly when it stopped being an act though. I think it was when I found a top and shorts that actually felt comfortably. The shorts were not tight and hugging my butt like an ass-glove and the shirt didn’t go out of its way to show the world I had boobs. Putting both on, I caught myself smiling in the mirror. Stepping out of the little room, Mom smiled at my smile.

“You like that one, don’t you?”

“I want more like this” I said, waving a hand over my body.

“Well maybe...”

“No,” I said, interrupting her. “Like this. Those other clothes are uncomfortable. I like this.”

Mom looked like she was about to protest but nodded. She took the cart with all the clothes I rejected. I smiled at her backside. So maybe I wasn’t such a pushover after all. At least when I found something that suited me. Mom came back a few minutes later, with more outfits like the one I currently had on. I tried those but didn’t really need too, she did a good job matching them all. Satisfied, I changed back into my original clothes. I then followed Mom to the register when the girl there chatted while she rang us up.

“Oh these are so cute” she gushed, like a giggling idiot. “You’ll look awesome in them!”

I smiled.

Play the Part.

Mom smiled too as she paid. We left the store. We got outside before we shared a laugh. Mom caught the bullshit too it would seem.

Hitting the other stores was much easier.

I found outfits similar to the ones I bought before. As long as I was now in control of what I wanted to wear, things with Mom went a bit smoother. I even managed a pair of jeans or two out of the deal. She tried unsuccessfully to steer me toward a skirt. She also tried a dress once but I blatantly refused. The only real contention we had was in the lingerie store. Mom insisted I try wearing a more feminine looking bra. I liked my sports bras though. They were comfortable and they had the support I liked.

“They’re ugly though,” she said, as I started grabbing what I wanted.

“No one is going to see them but me.”

Mom looked like she was going to say something then realized who she was talking too.

“You better be the only one seeing them!”

I laughed.

A moment later, a saleswoman materialized out of nowhere.

“Good afternoon ladies!”

Jesus Christ.

I nearly jumped.

She oozed right out of a clothing rack like the fucking T-1000.

She was middle-aged like my mother but unlike Mom, she didn’t take care of herself. She didn’t look old but she looked older than my mother. There was a great deal more age lines on her face and quite a bit grayer. She was shorter than us too, even with the heels. Mom in her heeled boots towered a whole head taller than this lady. I couldn’t help but smirk at that. The woman had a fake smile plastered on her face but it was clear she hated Mom. It was hard not to be jealous of the Great Caroline Russell. Ok, the Former Great Caroline Russell but she was still there even if she was only Caroline Hodge now.

“My name is Helen, I’m the Sales Manager, how may I assist you today.”

“My daughter and I are having a bra debate.”

I tuned out the rest of it.

Mom and Helen went back and forth. They tried to include me but I didn’t really care. Bra sizes were mentioned then they discussed styles and things. I put a few more sports bras into the cart.

“Honey, what do you think?”

Huh, what?

Shit.

I gave her a blank stare.

Mom sighed. “What do you think of this?”

Mom was holding up a bra.

I shrugged. “If we get a few can we leave?”

Yeah I really was done bra shopping.

Mom happily put a few into the cart.

When we got to the underwear, I wasn’t debating it. I HATED normal panties. They were just too damn girly for me. I went straight for the boy cut variety. Mom didn’t try arguing. She knew there was no way I was budging on those. I got several pairs then wandered over to the entrance while Mom went to check out. I tried looking disinterested as I looked at some bras near the door. They looked normal enough, just too girly for me to wear. I found myself absently touching one of the cups though, just to be sure.

"Those are great” said a chirpy voice behind me.

I jumped.

A perky sales girl about my age was suddenly at my elbow.

They’re all T-1000s in this place.

“They’re for girls like us,” she said then in a whisper added. “You know, with very little up top.”

I felt embarrassed and instinctively covered my chest with a hand.

She giggled. “Its nothing to be ashamed about and with one of those you don’t have too, they’re padded, you know to make us look bigger.”

Bigger?

Why in the hell would I want them to look bigger?

Thankfully Mom showed up and saved me.

She saw me looking at the bras though and smiled. I flushed red in embarrassment. I rushed out of the store before she could say anything.

We had quite a few bags now.

And I was getting hungry.

“Why don’t you go to the food court, get something to eat, I’ll take these to the car and come join you.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice.

I quickly made my way toward the elevator, navigating the throngs of people with ease.

The Food Court was on the second floor of the mall. I rode the elevator alone, staring out its glass sides at all the people. Too many people. Trying not to think about it, I entered the already packed court. I found my usual: Dave’s Hotdogs. I got my usual too, a large double cheeseburger, fries, rings and a large chocolate shake. Finding a seat near the trashcans, I started to dig in. Say what you will about me but I never did develop a dainty, girly appetite. The great thing is that I could eat what I wanted and not gain weight. I burned calories fast. That and I would work off this meal later. It was one of the perks of owning a Gym.

I was halfway through my burger when I noticed I was being watched.

I only slightly noticed them.

A couple of tables over there was a group of guys my age. They were trying to be subtle about it but I knew they were looking. At first, I thought they were gearing up to start crap until I realized how I was dressed. The tiny shorts, the girl’s hoodie. Shit. My hood was down too and though my hair was pretty unisex, Mom managed to style it a bit this morning before we left. She also managed to get some light lip gloss on my lips before I protested the whole makeup fiasco. With the clothes, the hair and the gloss, I looked like a fucking girl. Ok so I was a girl but boys didn’t usually know that.

One of them stood up. He had sandy blonde hair and dimples. Cute ones. Shit.

He came wandering over.

Double Shit.

“Hey” he said, leaning on the chair across from me.

“Hey,” I said, not sure how to respond.

“I know you?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I’ve seen you before?”

I shrugged. “I live in the city, its possible.”

It wasn’t. This guy thought he was being smooth. I’m sure it worked before. On other girls. I thankfully was not like most of them. I’ll admit he was cute but there was no way in hell I was letting some guy try to pick me up in a mall food court.

“I’m Dave.”

“That’s nice.”

Dave’s smile faded slightly but he didn’t stop trying. “My buddies and I are going to see a movie, you want to tag along?”

I looked over at his friends.

They were looking our way.

They were cute too, in their own way.

I wasn’t going there though.

“Not interested.”

“Why not?”

I sighed heavily. “Because I’m shopping with my mother.”

“Is she as cute as you?”

I groaned. I wanted to bust this guy’s nose. Instead, I looked up at him and smiled. How could I do this without making myself a target?
“You seem like a nice guy, Dave. You’re cute, you have that going for you at least but you see I’m just not that interested. I like them really butch, you know big biceps, buzzed heads and breasts bigger than your head, you understand?”

The color drained from Dave’s face.

He understood.

“Yeah, thanks anyway.”

He turned and walked back to his table. He dropped into his seat. His table was close enough so I’m sure his friends heard our conversation. They started to laugh. I couldn’t help but smirk. Dave and his buddies stayed long enough for Mom to show up. They were leaving when she was arriving. Dave, it seemed still couldn’t grasp the concept of my supposed lesbianism because he kept staring even though he knew I wasn’t interested.

“Who’s your friend?” asked Mom, watching the boys leave.

“No one” I said, feeling myself blush.

Mom gave me a knowing smile.

I ignored it.

We sat and ate lunch in relative silence. Well, I was silent anyway. Mom was talking about the rest of the day. I didn’t really like the sound of it. Instead of speaking up though, I kept my mouth shut again. Mom was a whirlwind that you couldn’t stop. I’d seen the shows on the Weather Channel, the Tornado chaser ones. I knew what happens during a tornado. So it was just best to let the whirlwind do its thing, let nature take its course and pick up the pieces afterward. It was a horrible analogy on my life at the moment but I was too much of a coward to stand in her path. So I’d hide in my little-armored vehicle and wait until she passed.

Fun times ahead for me.

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF

by:

MacKenzie Hodge has lived a life of secrets and lies. Chief among them is his, it, or her true gender? Now faced with an important decision, Mac has to decide what kind of future they want. Fortunately for Mac, there's a whole summer to decide.

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Author's Note: Its Monday, new chapter time. First things first, there's a new pic of Mac to go with this chapter. I'll probably be using this pic from now on. The chapter will explain the change. Also I know Mac has green eyes and the girl in the pic has blue, I just loved her so much and I didn't want to mess with photo shop to change them. A couple of quick things about this chapter. First, Dr. Martin finally makes an appearance. Second, don't judge Mac's mother too harshly, you'll see what I mean.

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5.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.

I wanted to punch the alarm. Pulling my pillow over my head and squeezing it tight like a comfy helmet, I tried to drown out the sound. Unfortunately, no amount of cushion could deafen the noise. My mother bought me the most annoying one. She said I had problems waking up in the morning. Me, I just liked the warmth of the covers. I would find no warmth in them today though. Groaning, I literally had the pull them off my body. Summer was arriving and with it the heat.

Sitting up, I tried hitting the alarm clock with my pillow but missed.

Putting it on the other side of the room had been Mom’s idea too. That way I would have to get up to shut it off. You know instead of hitting snooze and rolling back to sleep. She was an evil woman when she wanted to be. I’d seen that more in the past week than my whole life though.

Grunting, I slowly crawled out of bed.

The alarm shut off before I could get there. Cursing, I unplugged it from the wall instead of waiting for it to start up its cycle again. Satisfied, I made my way to the bathroom. The bathroom was smack dab in the middle of mine and Claudia’s room. Each of us had a door to access it. It was a surprisingly spacious room, with two sinks, a toilet and both a shower and bath. Claudia preferred the bathtub over the shower. I was the opposite. When we were younger, it never even occurred to me what sharing a bathroom with my little sister might be like. After I started puberty and my real gender was revealed to me, things didn’t change. Except now it didn’t smell as bad. Gone were the musky male scented deodorants and shampoo, in their place flowery fragrances and flower decals.

The decals were hers.

Walking over to the toilet, I sat to pee. I’ve always sat to pee. It was something I never really questioned until I realized I wasn’t a guy. Boys stood to pee. They had penises, that’s what they did. There were urinals in the boy’s bathroom so they could pee. Yet, I didn’t use those and always sat down. Why was that? Growing up, I thought it was perfectly normal to be a boy who sat down to pee. I convinced myself it was because my penis was too small. Puberty was a very eye-opening experience for me.

Not as eye opening as today though.

Flushing, I went to my sink to wash my hands.

The girl in the mirror was a stranger.

She was still me but I barely recognized her.

It was all my mother’s fault.

The trip to the mall had been three days ago. After shopping and eating lunch, I had really been regretting our salon appointment. I wasn’t disappointed. It was horrible. The first thing my mother asked them about was extensions. She wanted me to have nice, flowing hair. She said it would help me better adjust to being a girl. I tried to argue it and so did the stylist. I was almost in tears at one point. The stylist came to my rescue. She got me to agree to the extensions, as long as I got to approve on the length. Thinking about it now made me smirk. I couldn’t have the short mop of hair I was used too but I was able to get them to cut the hair to just past my shoulders, not quite mid-back but close. I used to have it there once. Most of the kids my age used to pick on me for it but I always thought I was Thor. Like from the movies. He had long hair like that so why couldn’t I. After I found out I was being lied too by my parents, the first thing I did was cut all the hair off. I did it myself, with a pair of scissors. I did such a chop job on it my head had to be buzzed.

Mom was furious.

I was triumphant.

I almost wanted to take Jax’s razor and shave all this shit off right now. I know it would have pissed Mom off royally. I didn’t though. It was a compromise I was willing to live with for a couple of months. That’s all it was supposed to be too, months. The extensions were to be removed before I started school in the Fall. I made that abundantly clear. I got more compromises out of the deal too. Piercings, as in plural. Two in each ear and one in my nose. Well, actually I had the one returned to my nose. I used to have my nose pierced. I did it when I was sixteen. It was supposed to make me look cool. Mom hated it. Eventually, I started to hate it too and removed it. I still had the hole though.

Now it was back.

A tiny silver ring.

It was the only thing I liked about my face right now.

They shaped my brows too, into nice feminine arches.

I looked ridiculous.

I almost had them pierce one of those too but Mom put her foot down.

Sighing, I splashed some water on my face.

“You should have fought harder,” I said softly to myself.

As usual, though, I let Mom steamroll right over the top of me and get what she wanted. Typical coward move. After the extensions and the cut, we had mani-pedis too. I won’t openly admit it but I liked that part. I didn’t like the body waxing. Especially down at the bikini line, not fun at all. If the government ever needed new Torturers, I knew where they could find some. They gave me a full makeover too, makeup and all that crap. My own living hell. I nearly ran out of the place when it was time to go. When we got home, Jax tried complimenting me until he saw how upset it made me. While I locked myself in my room to cry, my parents fought over it. I couldn’t remember the last time I heard him shout at her like that.

Claudia slept with me that night.

They were gone now.

They left for their vacation yesterday morning.

The fighting had stopped by then but they left miserable.

“Just as well,” I said once again to myself.

The girl in the mirror responded the same.

I sighed. This was going to be me for the next six to eight weeks. That’s how long the extensions were able to stay in for. Mom went all out. They were actual human hair and surprisingly close to my original hair color. It wasn’t quite right so there were some highlights done. I know I said I didn’t like this whole girl makeover and part of that was true but it wasn’t all bad. I mean it was my idea after all. The problem was that my mother didn’t stop and ask me what I wanted to do. She just went wild with it and turned me into the type of daughter she wanted me to be. The type of girl staring back at me from the mirror.

Sighing, I finished washing my hands and face then brushed my teeth.

I went through the typical morning routine every morning.

Stripping, I stepped into the shower.

I usually took a hot shower in the morning but with summer right around the corner and the temperature rising, I took a nice cold one. It helped wake me up too. Thankfully I only stayed in for about fifteen minutes or so, enough to wash my body and my brand new hair. Long hair was a pain in the ass to take care of. All the washing and brushing and other care. It was the other reason I cut off all my hair. I hated taking care of it. Personally, I think Mom gave me these extensions out of spite. Ok so not really. Mom was a bit old fashioned when it came to the type of person she thought a girl should be. Long hair, pretty face, nice clothes. Not exactly me. Well not exactly the Me I was before she gave me this makeover.

I hated her.

Not Mom.

The girl I’d become.

Leaving the bathroom, I quickly put together an outfit for today. Ugh. When did I start calling them “outfits”? Trying to ignore my new terminology, I grabbed a fresh pair of undies, a new shirt and a comfortable pair of jeans. All of them very female. As much as I hated the whole hair and face makeover, I didn’t really mind the clothes. Clothes were clothes. They didn’t make you a different person wearing them. It was all about how you presented yourself in them. I could still wear these and get away with being “me”. Sure it would take a little extra work and my old hoodie but I think I could pull it off.

I dressed slowly.

I decided to try one of Mom’s new bras.

I’m not going to lie, it was really comfortable.

Not that I was going to tell her that of course.

It also made me feel like a woman.

Queue Shania Twain.

Seriously though, it was the right blend of feminine and manageable. My breasts filled the cups properly and it didn’t pinch on the sides. The sports bras pinched. They were restricting too. Looking down, I saw breasts too. My old bras tended to flatten them against my chest a bit too much. They provided the proper support of course but they were meant to be worn for athletic things. Wearing an actual bra that fit and was designed for support, it was a new experience for me. It scared me how much I loved it. This was something of my mother’s, one of her victories. I wasn’t supposed to be enjoying it. I wanted to rebel against it. She wasn’t here anymore to force me to play along with her “Build a Daughter” construction kit. I could do what I wanted, dress how I wanted and yet here I was putting on the clothes she bought me---the clothes I hated---and I was actually enjoying them.

What the hell was wrong with me?

I grabbed at the bra, trying to pull it violently from my body.

I would have pulled it clean off if my phone didn’t beep.

Shit.

Reaching across the bed to my nightstand, I found my cell where I left it last night.

I groaned when I saw it.

Another message from Tess.

WANT 2 HANG 2 DAY.

Cursing, I dropped my phone on the bed. Ever since rescuing her from Brian, the girl had been trying nonstop to get my attention. You had to admire her determination. I was apparently her new conquest. Or rather, her attempt at a conquest because so far she had conquested nothing. And that’s how it was going to continue to be. Before puberty, girls were girls. I didn’t hate them or like them. They were just there. They wore dresses, braids in their hair and could be annoying. They were mysteries to me too. Boys my age started to like them, started to say “that one is cute” or “man I’d like to date her”. Things that meant something to me but things I didn’t feel. I was confused. Girls confused me even more. Then I found out I was one too. I was floored. I started to think of girls differently then. They were still mysterious but suddenly the mystery became something else.

Did I like them too?

I found that out when I turned thirteen.

His name was Jason.

And yes, I had a crush on him.

I tried to hide it though, tried to ignore it. I decided to shut myself off from it. To shut myself off from dating anyone. I pretended though. I started to use the words the guys used. I started to refer to girls in a certain way and pretended to like this one or that one in a sexual way. It was a lie though. It was all part of the masquerade too. It worked too well though. I might have let slip to Tess once that I thought Tara was really cute. She was but not in a sexual way. I wasn’t the least bit attracted to Tara or any other girl for that matter. Which I think is where my problem started.

Tess.

I should have let her think I was gay like everyone else.

I thought she thought I was.

Even with my “cute Tara” comment.

The last few days though---through our texting---I found out that she not only didn’t think I was gay but that she was attracted to me. She’d been attracted to me for some time now. I was sweet and sensitive and not afraid to share my feelings. Everything a stable girl was truly looking for in a prospective mate. There was only just one small problem: I wasn’t a boy. Definitely not the boy that Tess thought I was. Out of all my years pretending to be a boy, I never once thought what might happen if a girl actually fell in love with me. Now I was here and I didn’t know what to do about it. I’ll admit it, I was scared. Tess was one of the big reasons I decided to take the plunge and be myself this summer.
Brian was the other reason.

I think I was finally sick and tired of being a guy.

Maybe.

I didn’t know.

That’s what my doctor was there for.

Smiling, I picked up my cell, remembering.

Today was Friday.

SORRY TESS, I typed, CAN’T TODAY. HAVE APPT.

Her reply was quick: K with a frowny face.

I shut off my phone after that, sighed and tossed it on my bed.

This was getting very complicated.

Hopefully, Dr. Martin would be able to help.

“Well, good morning, Miss,” said Henry as I walked on the bus.

I sighed.

“Morning, Henry.”

I dropped into my usual seat, surprising the older bus driver. He stared at me for a few moments, trying to process.

Henry knew the truth about me. I decided long ago not to keep that secret from him. He was a good man and didn’t judge. The fact that he had a daughter of his own helped. He was like a surrogate father and grandfather rolled into one. Kind and supportive and a good listener. Like I said before, we talked. Not only about him and his problems. He knew all mine too. I think it was par the course for the profession. Cab drivers, bartenders, priests and bus drivers. People, I think told them everything. Henry was not just great at telling stories, he was good at hearing them too. When I told him about my true gender, he didn’t even blink. He didn’t treat me any different either.

“Mac?” he asked, I sighed and nodded. He smiled. “This is a different look for you.”

“It was my Mom’s idea.”

I quickly filled him in as we drove.

Dr. Martin’s office was quite a few blocks from our home so we had the time.

Once again he sat and listened. We made about six stops along the way, he only stopped my talking briefly to let new passengers on or current ones off. We started talking about my new look but it devolved into my life over the last week or so since I’d seen him. Ok, so one week and a day. School let out on Wednesday last week and today was the first of June. Wow, had everything only happened in a week? Let’s see I told him about Tess and the playlist, my lesson with the children, my fight with Brian. Henry had a slight, satisfied smile on his face during that story. I don’t think there was a single person in the city who had any love for the Ross family. Tess was the only one I knew and now that was over. Though I don’t think she ever loved him.

“That’s quite the decision.”

I shrugged. “I sorta fell into it. I knew it was getting there, its something I’ve been doing over the summer for the last few years or so.”
“But only sparingly, right?” he asked, I nodded. ‘This is quite a big step up from that. You sure you’re ready for it?”

“That’s what I’m gonna find out.”

He smiled then gave me a pensive look. “May I make a suggestion?”

“Of course!”

"I think you should be your own person, kiddo,” he said seriously. “Not this person your mother is attempting to turn you in to. You love your mother and want to do right by her, I get that but you can’t just let her tell you what to do and how to act, it's not right.”

“I know.”

“Remember what your Shakespeare said, To Thine Own Self Be True.”

Wow, Henry quoting Hamlet.

Never thought I’d see the day.

We shared a laugh.

The bus finally came to my stop. I got up and gave him a hug, surprising both of us I think. I’d never actually hugged him before. Henry had a big smile on his face as I stepped off, so I knew I didn’t overstep my bounds. I waved and watched as the bus disappeared into the morning traffic. I waited until it was around the corner before turning and walking into the giant building that was Dr. Martin’s office.

Ok so the whole building wasn’t hers, that would be ridiculous. Her office was just in it. Along with several other doctors and professionals. The whole block was devoted to them I think. The streets were lined with tall glass buildings on either side, each no smaller than five stories. The current one I was stepping into had six, Dr. Martin’s office was on the third floor.

Besides school and the Gym, it was practically my second home. In fact, for a while, I probably spent more time here than in school. Well, at least it felt like that sometimes. I only came about once or twice a month now but in the beginning, I was here at least three times a week. I mean after finding out you were a girl when you thought you were a boy, it takes its toll. There were some pretty rough patches along the way. Not just the whole hair cutting thing. Rebellion was one thing but when you were on suicide watch for nearly a month, yeah it wasn’t anything to smile about. Just thinking about it now made me want to cry. It also made me feel weak. I’m not saying suicide was weak, I’m just saying that I was ashamed of myself to think that I ever thought about ending my life.

After it was determined I no longer wanted to kill myself, Dr. Martin made me go to a support group. It was one for transgender teens. I knew I didn’t really fit into that category but she thought if I was with children in similar circumstances as my own, it might help open my eyes. It did. I really felt for those people. I felt kindred with them in a way. All my life I thought I was a boy, I lived like a boy, was treated like a boy, thought I was going to be one the rest of my life. Then I found out it was a lie. Ok so not a lie really, a non-truth. The group helped put things into perspective for me. I met people who were struggling with their gender and identity like me but unlike me, they were in the wrong bodies.

Ok so maybe like me?

I still went to group when I could just not as frequent as before. It was usually held on Saturdays and I spent most of those in the Gym. I still participated in the online aspect of it though. We had a forum and I tried to stay up to date on there as much as I could. I made some decent friends there. People I could talk too and turn too if I needed help or comfort. Just not people I saw every day. Not without trying though. It was my choice though. I could be my true self with them and yet I was scared. Even now I was scared.

What if I liked it too much?

What if Ken went away for good?

The scariest thought of all though: What if Ken going away wasn’t such a bad thing?

I kept those thoughts in my head as I walked through the building’s lavish lobby into the elevator. I rode to the third floor, my mind flooded with questions. When the elevator stopped, those were replaced with butterflies. This was after all the first time I’d been truly out like this. I mean after Mom’s makeover. After the clothes shopping and salon, I was bound and determined to stay in the house. It was all so different and embarrassing and scary. Then my parents were fighting. I was actually a bit happy that they left. I hated feeling like that. Someone shouldn’t feel glad when their family isn’t around. Especially when said family goes off on a vacation without them. Sure it was my choice but I was a bit sad by the whole thing too. A bit angry too that they went off all feeling so miserable.

I exited the elevator, finding myself numbly walking into the waiting room.

I wandered over to the large sectional in the middle of the room, dropping down on one of the comfy leather sofas. I picked up a back issue of Teen Vogue from the little table, trying to hide behind the magazine. I felt like the room was staring at me, though the only one currently present was the receptionist, Clara. Taking a quick peek, I nearly bolted. She was staring. Not in a bad way though. She was confused. I liked Clara a lot. She was a former patient of the doctor’s. She was also the one who ran our support group now. It always boggled my mind that such a gorgeous woman had been born a boy. She was inspired by the group too. She was in her second year of college now, studying psychology. She wanted to help people like her.

She continued to stare at me until I think it finally clicked.

I saw the look of recognition on her face.

“Mac?”

“Hey Clara,” I said sheepishly.

She was still staring.

“You look...” she said, standing up and walking around the desk. She walked over to me. “Wow.”

“Is that a good wow or...”

“It's a great wow,” she said, smiling big. “Your hair looks great and I love the clothes.” She did give me a concerned look though. “I just didn’t think you were ready to go this far yet.”

“I wasn’t but something happened and well...”

A buzz from Clara’s intercom interrupted me.

Clara looked at her desk. “That’s the Doc, she probably wants to see you now. If you want to talk afterward, I’ll be here.”

I smiled, stood up and gave her a hug.

Apparently, I’m hugging everyone these days.

We pulled away then I slowly made my way toward Dr. Martin’s office. Only pausing for a moment to gently knock on the door. I heard her muffled “enter” before stepping inside.

It was a pretty spacious office with a great view. The windows were large and let in a lot of light, bathing the room in a warm and inviting glow. It helped that the decor was earthy and happy, a blend of soothing colors and comfy pillows. The chairs weren’t half bad either. The rest of the room was very modern: metal shelves, a glass top desk. There were also several modern art prints on the wall. The best feature had to be the large fish tank. We used to have fish at home but I’m horrible with pets and they all died. Claudia had a hamster---Mr. Pudge---but I never really cared for them. Claudia wanted to get a cat too until Mom told her it would probably try and eat the hamster.

I couldn’t help but smile.

“Hello MacKenzie,” said the doctor. “I’ll be right with you, I need to finish up this email.”

She was sitting at her desk, head buried in her computer.

I dropped into the large leather chair in front of her.

I was nervous today.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been nervous in her office.

Save maybe the first time.

I was a scared eleven-year-old back then. I just found out I was lied too by my parents and my whole life was a sham. I was sick of doctors at that point too. My first shrink---Dr. Paul---didn’t really work out so well. He was pretty old school in his way of thinking. He felt the best way for me to embrace my newfound girlhood was to be thrown right into it. He was pretty brutal about it. He told me I was lying to myself and that I was ridiculous to think I could still be a boy. Suffice to say, we only went to one session with him. The last I heard he wasn’t even practicing anymore. Well when you call one of your patients an “idiot”, it doesn’t really go over too well with their parents.

I was terrified Dr. Martin would be the same.

When I met her though, my fears evaporated.

She was a kind, caring woman. She didn’t call me an idiot and she told me that everything was going to be ok. That was the first thing she said to me, “everything is going to be ok”. It was too. Eventually. A small part of me envied that little eleven-year-old. Life had been more simple back then. My body was still changing and being a boy was much easier. Hiding my girlhood had been really easy. As I grew, it got harder and harder. It was so much work these days that more than once I questioned if it was even worth it.

The Doc finally looked up.

She shared Clara’s expression.

Dr. Martin was always a pretty stoic woman. Not that she was cold and emotionless, she just didn’t express herself much. Maybe a gentle smile or a warm squeeze of the hand. A professional. The type of professional behavior you expect from a middle-aged, successful psychiatrist. Not the type of look I currently saw her giving me.

Shock.

“MacKenzie,” she said surprised then quickly regained some composure before speaking again. “You look lovely.”

The way she said “lovely” though, I could read between the lines.

She was asking me if I thought I was “lovely” too.

With Dr. Martin, everything she said seemed to be a question even if she wasn’t asking one.

It was a Shrink thing.

“It was Mom’s idea.”

As soon as I said that, I saw her frown.

“Why don’t you tell me about it?”

So I did. I told her everything just like with Henry earlier. Unlike with Henry though, I told her how I felt about things. Every part of the story I inserted my feelings into the mix as well. Just like she wanted. It stopped her from asking me about them. The Doc played stoic again but I kept seeing the cracks in her armor whenever I mentioned my mother. To say my mother and Dr. Martin didn’t get along was an understatement. Both were professional when dealing with me but they had different opinions on how it should be handled. Mom was a person who liked things her way. She saw something and the way it should be, according to her. Dr. Martin was a different kind of person. She was of the opinion of allowing a person to decide what they wanted and if something was right, it should be because they thought it was so. Of course, the something I refer too is “Me”. I think if it was up to Mom, I would be her daughter 24/7. I am. Clothes don’t make the gender. Long hair and makeup don’t make the gender. I knew that so why couldn’t my mother.

And why was I so afraid to tell her that?

When I finished telling the Doc everything, she was frowning.

I sighed. “You’re angry.”

“I’m neither angry or happy,” she said, taking both sides. “I’m concerned.”

Dr. Martin was a pretty woman but not Mom pretty. Whereas Mom was a natural knock out, who stayed trim and fit to fight off the ravages of age, Dr. Martin was more practical. Still a healthy woman, she was an avid tennis player after all. There were quite a few trophies on her shelves. She was just the kind of woman who didn’t go out of her way to make herself look pretty. She wore her graying hair in a sensible bob, her glasses sensible, her suit crisp and neat. She wore minimum makeup and yet she was still very feminine as well. She was a different kind of woman from my mother. Why couldn't my mother let me be a different kind of woman too?

“You think I should have told her No?”

“What do you think?”

There she goes again. Typical Shrink Talk.

I shrugged. “I know I should and it's not like I don’t like this” I said, grabbing my hair. “It's just, she didn’t ask me if I wanted it. She wasn’t even willing to listen to my opinion on it, just like usual. She decided what was best for me and made me do it.”

Dr. Martin sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Your mother and I have talked about this at great length. She’s a complicated woman. I’m not really at liberty to discuss our private conversations but I will tell you this, she believes she’s doing the right thing for you.”

“You mean the right thing for her,” I said, getting angry.

"Is that how you truly feel?"

I shrugged.

“And what about the right thing for you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you made a very interesting first step this week. It was a very brave thing to do. Just like you stepping in to help your friend but its only the first step. You need to ask yourself if it's the proper one to take, if you should take further ones or should you take a step back?”

“You think I’m moving too fast?”

“Do you?”

I shrugged again.

I looked around the room, looking for the mirror I knew was in the corner. She used to make me stand in front of that mirror when I was little. It was supposed to help my self-confidence. Back then I was too stubborn to even admit I was a girl. Even when I saw the evidence staring back at me in the mirror. So every session she would make me stand in front of the mirror, telling me what I saw. Not what I wanted to see but what I actually saw there. It wasn’t her forcing me to admit my gender, it was her helping me try to see what only I could see. It took some time but I finally started to see the girl. She was there, hiding in the boy I always thought I was. She’d always been there, waiting in the shadows. The boy was there too, just not physically. It was the way I stood and the way I acted. As the years went on and the image in the mirror started to change with me, the girl started to make herself known more and more.

The boy was fading.

Perhaps he was never there.

Dr. Martin followed my eyes. “You want to do the Mirror Exercise?”

She stood up, stepping around the desk. Sighing, I stood up too.

I followed her over to the mirror, the click of her heels leading the way.

It was one of those tall, full body mirrors. My mother kept trying to buy me one for my bedroom but I had no need for it.

I felt like an idiot.

“I’m too old for this,” I said with a laugh.

“No one is too old to look into a mirror,” she said with a laugh of her own.

I noticed with amusement that she herself was not, in fact, standing in front of the mirror with me.

Physician, Heal Thy Self.

“Now tell me,” she said after a moment. “What do you see?”

I rolled my eyes. “Me.”

I said it without even thinking about it. I mean what else were you supposed to see in the mirror other than yourself?

“Are you sure?”

I rolled my eyes again.

Ok, I’ll play her game.

The girl in the mirror was me. She had my face, my pale skin, my green eyes, my white blonde hair…Oh. I saw it. The hair wasn’t really mine was it? It was similar, had a similar hue but it was extensions now. It covered my shoulders, almost to the small of my back. A lot longer than I wanted. My eyes were still the same but my brows made them look different, bigger maybe? I absently reached up to touch my face, noticing how much a change the shaped brows made. When I did, I noticed my nails. There was a clear coat on them and they were oval shaped now, well manicured. I had a notorious habit of biting my nails. My mother hated it. The nails on my fingers were clean and cared for, no sign of my fidgety biting.

Lowering my hands, I noticed my clothes next.

I took off my hoodie, dropping it to the floor. As soon as I did, I saw something else. Whereas the shirt was fairly unisex, the jeans weren’t. I usually bought all my clothes in the Men’s department. My shirts were usually baggy, my pants sagged. They made me feel comfortable. Now though, I could see a shape. The shirt hugged my torso, accentuating my bust. It was still small but not as squashed. It was a shape I saw most girls have. Breasts. Mine were usually well hidden. Here they were now. Looking further down, I noticed hips too. Girlish ones, not hidden by baggy pants. On display for the world to see in pants that were form fitting and I’m ashamed to admit, very comfortable. I really wanted nothing to do with clothes like this. They were girl clothes. They were things I didn’t want to wear. Because they made me look like a….

I gasped.

“So now tell me what you see?”

“A girl,” I said softly.

She nodded. “The question you now need to ask yourself, is she the girl you want to be or do you think you can be the girl you were before?”

I didn’t know.

I told her as much.

“I’m not sure what I want" I confessed.

“That’s good, that’s progress. Before you were very adamant about being Ken, do you remember?”

Oh, I remembered.

“This is the reason I wanted you to try being a girl a little bit every summer, I wanted you to get a feel for it. It's not a scary thing. Neither is wanting to be a boy. You can be either or you can be neither. There are many different kinds of people in the world. The important thing is that you be yourself and not let anyone else tell you who you are.”

I laughed. “That’s what Henry said.”

“He’s a very smart man.”

I didn’t disagree.

“Now how about we go over to the couches and discuss some other things.”

I followed her over to the two couches in the other corner of the room. Like I said, it was a pretty spacious office. Together the two of us spent the rest of my hour session discussing different things. I won’t bore you with all the details but suffice to say I came to some conclusions of my own. One, I was getting my hair cut shorter. Two, I was going to shop for myself from now on. Three, I wasn’t going to let my mother dictate my life for me. Ok so three was probably going to take a while and a lot of courage but I hoped to get there eventually.

And four, I really needed to stop dodging Tess's calls.

When my hour was up, Dr. Martin followed me out into the waiting room.

“There is one more thing,” she said, her hand on the small of my back. “I want you to have fun this summer, Mac. Try new things, don’t stay cooped up in the house the whole time.”

“I think I can do that.”

She smiled. “Then you can come back here and tell me all about it. How about right before school in August?”

I nodded. “Sounds good.”

She gave me a hug before asking for her next patient.

I watched a girl a little younger than me follow her into the office. She looked scared in her bright yellow summer dress. I gave her a gentle smile, she gave me a scared one. I watched her until the office door closed. Poor kid, I hope she’s ok.

Hell, I hoped I was going to be ok too.

“You all right?” asked Clara as she came up behind me.

I nodded. “Just realized some things.”

“Good session then?”

“Yeah, it was.”

“You, still want to have that talk, I’m about to go on break?”

I looked at her.

I really looked at her. She was happy. She was practically glowing. As much as I wanted to say yes I knew I couldn’t. I had some things I wanted to do today. Things I needed to do.

“Raincheck?”

“Sure.”

I wanted to feel that happy too.

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF

by:

MacKenzie Hodge has lived a life of secrets and lies. Chief among them is his, it, or her true gender? Now faced with an important decision, Mac has to decide what kind of future they want. Fortunately for Mac, there's a whole summer to decide.

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Author's Note:Here's Ch.6. First off, Ch.7 is sadly unfinished. I got a little caught up in life the past few weeks and haven't had much time to write. I hope to have it finished for next week though. Ok now that that unpleasantness is out of the way, I can happily say that this is a chapter that everyone has been asking me for. I hope everyone enjoys it :).

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Ch.6

“More coffee, Miss.”

“No thanks, Lance.”

Shit. I responded without thinking.

Lance Burke gave me a look. He stared at me for a few seconds, probably trying to see if he knew me. Of course, he did, we had English together. I’m such an idiot. But I was distracted. After dodging her countless text messages, I finally agreed to meet with Tess. She picked the place. It was one of the many upscale coffee houses on the East Side. Apparently, it was a favorite spot of hers, I just never expected to run into anyone else I knew. Thankfully Lance was the only one and I had a quick way to rectify my screw up.

“Do I know you?” he asked with narrowed eyes.

I pointed to his shirt. “Your name tag”.

I said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He looked down, chuckled then walked away embarrassed.

Sorry, Lance.

I watched him until he was back behind the counter then I let out the breath I’d been holding. I was nervous enough as it was. Every person who walked by made me jump and every time the door opened, let’s just say I might need anti-anxiety medication when this is all over. I’m still not sure why I decided to do it. Maybe it was because I was tired of leading her on or , it was because I didn’t like lying to her. Maybe it was about me too. I was tired of lying and needed to tell someone the truth.

Tess was the best person I could think of.

After leaving Dr. Martin’s office yesterday, I did a lot of things.

Chief among them was thinking.

What she said and seeing Clara happy made me think about making my life happy too. It was strange because I never realized how miserable I’d been. It was the little things. Not having any real friends, lying to the ones I might consider friends. Lying at all actually. It was getting harder. Not the putting on boy clothes and hiding my body, that part was easy. It was getting harder waking up every morning, looking in the mirror and seeing the truth. Then lying to myself to make me feel better. The thing was, it wasn’t making me feel better. I was actually happier when I was not pretending.

Teaching my students, running in the park, hanging out with my little sister. Those were things I could do as me. The things at school, those things were weighing heavily on me. I think its the reason why I ultimately refused the summer internship. I would have loved to do it but I would have been miserable too. They were expecting Ken, a boy, who I was actually miserable being.

Being a boy made me hate life.

Dr. Martin had been right. I need to find myself.

The first step had to be to go through with my plan. This summer, Ken had to go away completely. If I wanted to truly be happy, I needed to be MacKenzie and only MacKenzie. That meant no more hiding. I needed to confess to the world. Ok so maybe not the world. One step at a time. Tess first. If she reacted in a good way then I’d decide what to do going forward.

The door chimed again.

My heart skipped a beat as I looked.

I sighed.

Another false alarm.

The couple who walked through the door meandered over to one of the empty tables near the window. I avoided picking one of those. I was still a little self-conscious about the way I looked. I wasn’t used to being out in public as a girl. My hoodie was off, I was wearing one of my new tees and a pair of jeans like yesterday. It felt weird. It also felt strangely liberating too. I actually smiled at myself in the mirror this morning as I brushed my hair. I couldn’t remember the last time I smiled. It helped that I went back to the salon yesterday too. I got squeezed in between appointments. I also managed to get the dumb girl who put my extensions in the other day.

I wanted to get them completely removed but she talked me out of it.

So we cut them instead. To just above my shoulders. Much better than the mid-back cut my mother had forced on me earlier in the week. It made me feel more like myself when I looked in the mirror too. That was the important part. This was all about me, a journey to be the person I want to be. Take that George Lucas.

“Ummm”.

Shit, the Return of the Lance.

I turned, looking up from the coffee I was still nursing.

I was too nervous to drink.

“I do know you, you're MacKenzie right?” he said, looking sheepish.

Shit.

Wow, someone who actually knows my real name. Color me surprised and slightly impressed.

"Its Mac actually."

Double Shit.

Why did I tell him that?

“You’re in my English class right?”

Triple Shit.

So, truth or lie time.

To hell with it.

“Oh right,” I said, pretending to act embarrassed. “as soon as I said your name I thought I recognized you but I wasn’t sure. So how’s your summer been so far?”

“Work”.

That must suck.

“I’m on vacation from my family.”

“How does that work?”

I shrugged. “They went away, I stayed home.”

We shared a laugh. It was strange really. I knew Lance, if only in passing. He was one of those AV kids but not a nerd. I don’t think that term really existed in high school anymore. I mean in order to stay on sports teams, jocks had to be smart too. So calling a smart person a “nerd” or a “geek” just didn’t really apply anymore. Lance was one of the smarter ones though. Top of our class or close to it. He was pretty popular too. He had a lot of friends, was part of quite a few social circles. He also had his camera. He never went anywhere without it. Usually one of the AV kids got to follow the Seniors around for a year, documenting them.

This year that kid was Lance.

“So how’d the video go?”

He looked surprised and brightened when he spoke: “Really good. It was a pretty big hit at graduation.”

Graduation was held on the Saturday after school let out.

Then prom fell on that Sunday.

The last two school functions that the Seniors had to participate in.

Something to look forward to next year that’s for sure.

“Hey, Lance!” shouted someone from behind us. “Stop flirting and get back to work!”

We both blushed.

Lance apologized and disappeared again.

Thank God.

Not that he was a bad person, I just wasn’t used to the attention.

I was a bit scared of it too.

To say Lance surprised me was an understatement. I’d been in the same school with him for three years now. We didn’t move in the same social circles but we had classes together. We flitted about one another all the time. It was hard not to run into him, what with him being everywhere with that camera. The strange thing was, he never really seemed to bother with me before. Yet, here he was talking to me out of the blue like that? It made no sense and it confused the hell out of me.

Did he suspect?

Was that why he was talking to me? Was he going to go blabbing to all his friends now?

When school started was everyone going to be laughing at me?

I felt sick to my stomach.

I could feel the bile rising up my throat. Snapping around, I spotted two ways to go. Running outside and puking on the sidewalk was disgusting so I jumped to my feet and made a mad dash for the bathroom. Thankfully no one was there to witness my embarrassment. I charged headfirst into one of the stalls but by the time I got there, the nauseous feeling was gone. I did dry heave over the bowl a few times though. I felt like kicking myself for being such an idiot. Damn it. I was overreacting. Lance was a decent guy and I think he thought I was a girl. Hell, I am a girl. I was just being paranoid too. Call it nerves. Today was a pretty nerve-wracking day for me after all. I mean it's not every day that you expose your biggest secret to someone. Someone who could make your life a living hell if she wanted. I mean I was about to put it all on the line here. Tess seemed like a pretty nice person but for all I know she could be a vicious bitch too.

Shit.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, which is not the smartest thing to do with your head this close to a toilet bowl. Cursing and nearly gagging, I quickly left the stall. I took another moment, another short breath before wandering over to the sink. I looked in the mirror as I washed my hands. The girl staring back at me was a wreck. Her hair was a mess, there were bags under her eyes from a restless sleep the night before and her lip gloss was smeared. Yes, lip gloss. I thought it would sell the whole girl thing. Now that I looked I felt ridiculous. I felt like a joke too. Or like I was pretending to be a girl?

I groaned.

What the hell was wrong with me?

First, I’m pretending to be a boy.

Now its a girl?

I need to make up my damn mind.

I shut off the water and started to step away from the mirror when I changed my mind. Turning on the sink again, I vigorously started scrubbing the lip gloss off my lips. I can be a girl without it. Satisfied I smiled only to groan at my hair. Thankfully Mom bought me some hair ties the other day. Those little elastic things. I never thought I would need them until now. It was a good thing I grabbed a few just in case. Pulling my hair back, I made a nice, tight ponytail. With the shorter hair, it looked pretty gender neutral. I still looked like mess but now I at least looked like a presentable mess.

Finally satisfied, I left the bathroom.

I paused a foot from the door.

Tess was finally here.

She was sitting at one of the tables near the window, looking around. She was dressed to impress---a ruffled flower skirt, airy summer blouse and open toe heeled sandals. Hey, I might not like girly clothes but I know them all pretty well. Its one of the disadvantages of having an ex-supermodel for a mother. You could almost say that fashion is in my blood, whether I liked it or not. It also didn’t help that said mother was constantly trying to shove said fashion in your face. Not that she was trying to force me to dress like Tess but she would buy outfits like that for Claudia then stress how it might be fun to have both her daughters dress that way. She tried to guilt me into it but it never worked.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly started making my way over.

All last night I thought of several ways to tell her.

Some more disastrous than others.

In the end, I decided with something simple.

“Hey,” I said, stopping at the table.

Tess wasn’t looking at me at first but as soon as she turned to look, she smiled. It wasn’t one of recognition, more like one you gave someone to be polite. She didn’t recognize me. I think it was the hair. It was also probably the fact that she never saw me with my hood down. I made certain to keep it up in school whenever I could. Our school didn’t really have any strict dress code policies they enforced. Hoodies and hats were ok as long as they didn’t have any drug paraphernalia on them. Tess and I had very few classes together and whenever I saw her at my locker, my hood was always up.

“Tess, it's me.”

She stared, her eyes narrowed as to give me a better look.

Then I saw it.

Recognition.

“Kenny?”

I nodded. “Can I sit?”

She gave me a slow but confused nod.

I sat in the chair opposite her.

She leaned in close and whispered. “What’s going on? Why are you dressed like a girl?”

Dressed like that?

I looked down and sighed. I forgot I was wearing this.

I’d been wearing the same clothes and hoodie for as long as I could remember. The hoodie my most prized possession. It was one of the only things I had from my father, my real father. He left it behind apparently. Mom had wanted to throw it out shortly after but when I found it, I wouldn’t let her. Jax enforced my need to keep it. When I was little, I used to wear it around the house all the time. Back then it had been too big. It was still slightly too big for me. It was also pretty worn and ratty now. It might sound silly but when a ratty football hoodie was the only thing that connected you to a man you never knew, it was the most precious thing in the world to you.

Mom got me more hoodies though.

They weren’t bad and they fit a lot better but they were definitely designed for girls.

I was wearing one now.

I was also wearing a pair of my newer, more form-fitting jeans.

Looking at me, there was no way to deny I was a girl.

I bit my lip and answered softly. “Because I am a girl.”

Tess gasped. “You mean you’re one of those transgender people?”

I sighed and shook my head.

That would have been easier.

“No” I said slowly. “I wasn’t born a boy, thinking I was in the wrong body.”

Now she was confused.

I was about to say more when Lance appeared.

Great.

“Hey guys,” he said, cheery. “You ready to order now, Tess?”

She didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll have a Caramel Macchiato.”

Ugh, she was one of those girls.

Lance scribbled it on his pad and turned to me. “You ok, Mac? You rushed off so quick...”

Concern, actual concern.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, hoping it was enough to get rid of him.

Lance nodded and took the hint, leaving us along again.

“Who’s Mac?” asked Tess.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m Mac. You know short for MacKenzie.”

I was right. She really did think my name was Ken or Kenny.

Tess was still confused. “Then who’s Ken?”

“I’m Ken too.”

“I’m confused.”

And I wanted to drown myself in the largest cup of coffee in the world. This conversation was not going at all the way I planned.

“Ken is short for MacKenzie,” I said, hoping to clarify. “Just like Mac or Mackie or Kenzie.”

Wow, I never really realized how many ways I could shorten my own name.

Weird.

“And you’re not a boy?”

“Right.”

Then I saw it, the look of hurt in her eyes. The last thing I wanted to see. I considered her a friend, well at least I hoped I did. I also hoped she might consider me one too. Now that I saw that look though, I knew that hope was impossible.

She stood up. “I think I should go.”

Shit.

She started to leave before I could stop her.

Double shit.

Tess was fast, faster than I gave her credit for. She was out the door before I could even push my chair in. She was already hailing a cab too. Damn it. I rushed toward the door, hoping to catch her. When I got outside, she was crying. I made her cry. It was the last thing in the world I wanted to do.

“Tess wait.”

She turned to me, tears flowing freely. “Was this some kind of sick game to you. Get the cheerleader to fall in love with the lesbo.”

She thinks I’m gay?

“What no!” I said defensively. “If you give me a chance, I’ll explain everything.”

A cab pulled up to curb.

Tess glared. “Well, I’m waiting.”

“Not here” I said, grabbing her arm gently.

We were too exposed out here on the street. I didn’t want to tell the whole city my secret after all.

“We’ll go to my place,” I said quickly, steering her toward the yellow car.

She didn’t protest.

I opened the door for her and we both clamored inside. I rattled off the directions to the driver and sat quietly next to my “date”.

Well, this could have been better.

With traffic, the ride from the coffee bistro to home took the better part of twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of total silence. At least Tess had stopped crying. I’m not sure I enjoyed what it was replaced with though. She sat the whole time with her arms crossed, looking out the window. I guess I deserved that much. Here she thought she was going on a date with a boy she liked and now, well now I’m not sure what she thought. I tried talking to her but she wouldn’t even look at me. I deserved that too. I should have been honest with her from the beginning. Sure I didn’t owe it to her but it was the right thing to do.

“Here you are ladies,” said the driver as the cab stopped.

Tess finally spoke. “You live here?”

Was she disgusted or surprised?

Like I said before, the neighborhood needed some work. It wasn’t a bad place to live but it was a place that most people wouldn’t have suspected. We were a mixed race family after all. To be brutally honest, Mom and I were probably the only white people on the whole block. Most of the neighbors didn’t care. I say most because there were a few who caused problems from time to time. Usually, I just kept my head low and avoided them. I was friendly when I needed to be and for the most part, they let us be.

A place like this to Tess though, I couldn’t really read her.

We got out of the cab, I paid the driver and turned toward her. She wrinkled her nose, pretending to smell a smell that wasn’t there. I’ll admit it, she was a snob. I knew that before. The way she dressed, who she dated. The fact that she showed any interest in the pretend me was surprising. Tess’s parents were lawyers, they lived in the richer part of town. Coming here probably felt like slumming to her. She was a mystery though too. So was Brian in that respect. They were both very well off and yet they chose to go to a public school like me? It was surprising, to say the least. Mind you, it was a more upscale public high school but it wasn’t private. They weren’t the only wealthy students there either. I knew why I went there but I was confused as to why she did.

I started toward our building, Tess at my heels.

“This is your apartment?”

She looked around, probably expecting to get mugged.

Her bag was worth more than quite a few paychecks around here.

I rolled my eyes. “Not my apartment, my house.”

She nodded, probably thinking she offended,me.

I approached the door, typing in the code.

“You don’t buzz in?” she asked, shocked.

,I laughed. “Don’t need too, we own the building."

That surprised her.

Good.

“Wait, what?” she asked as I opened the door.

We stepped into the foyer and her jaw actually dropped. It was pretty comical.

The outside of the building didn’t compare to the inside.

It was like the TARDIS.

Except it was fancier on the inside than the out.

Tess was looking around in awe. “Your mother teaches kindergarten right?”

I nodded. “And my stepfather owns a gym”.

I couldn’t help but smile.

Tess’s mind was blown. Good. She needed to learn a little humility. Maybe then she wouldn’t judge things based on how they look. Like me. Like my neighborhood. Like my house.

“No offense but how in the hell can your family afford this!”

I laughed but didn’t say a thing.

Instead I led her toward the stairs. Tess let some of the tension leave her body as she followed. We slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor. She kept looking around, her eyes getting bigger and bigger. I guess I never realized how odd things appeared. I didn’t have many guests after all. On the outside the house looked one way, on the inside another. Like I said before my parents didn’t flaunt it but it's not like we lived like paupers either. We had a lot of stuff. State of the art appliances, nice furniture, some fancy reprints on the walls. The kind of things one might suspect in a fancy Upper East side loft. Not the kind of things you would expect to find here.

“You want a drink?” I asked, wandering into the kitchen.

Tess shook her head but followed. She sat down on one of tall, island stools.

“You’re rich?”

I sighed. I took a can of Sprite out of the fridge and popped it before speaking. “Is that all people think about? Money?”

“Sorry,” she said and actually sounded like meant it. “Its just...well...you don’t seem like Brian that’s all.”

I laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment and you’re right, I’m not like Brian” I waved my hand over my body. “He’s a guy, I’m not.”

Tess was scrutinizing me with her eyes again. “You said you were going to explain that.”

I nodded. I took a sip before I began. I told her everything. It didn’t take nearly as long as I thought it might but I didn’t leave anything out. I never really thought about how easy it was to sum up my life. I also couldn’t help but think how strange it all seemed. It was no wonder she was so reluctant to believe me or that she was angry. Suddenly pretending to be a boy felt like lying about being a boy. The hate and tears she showed before, I was starting to feel them as I spoke. What the hell kind of person am I? Shit. I was horrible. I kept the lie going and not for other people but for myself.

When I finished, Tess was silent.

Then she stood up. I flinched, ready for the slap I knew was coming. Instead, she hugged me. I flinched but not for a bad reason. I never expected a reaction like that. I was hoping she would understand, that she might be able to at least forgive me. I never actually suspected she would hug me, that she might be showing sympathy for me? In one quick moment, the shallow and snobbish Tess was gone, replaced by this compassionate and caring one? The thing was, I couldn’t tell which one was real and which was the lie?

“You are the bravest person I’ve ever known.”

What?!?

She broke the hug then crossed her arms.

“I’m still mad at you for lying though” she said, then giggled. “And I should have known you know.”

“Known what?”

She was still giggling. ‘I tried to get Brian to listen to Tara with me. He said it was chick music. For a while I thought you were gay...”

“Boys listen to Tara!’ I said, defensively.

I’m not sure why I was being so defensive about it though. I was, after all, not a boy.

Then I laughed too.

Tess gave me a look. “Oh wow, a girl’s laugh and that voice!”

Shit.

I’d been speaking normally to her without realizing it.

I stuck my tongue out at her.

She dropped back down on the stool. “So this whole time you’ve been pretending to be a boy?’ I nodded, she sighed. “Since you were eleven years old, all this time?”

I shrugged. “Not the whole time. During vacations, I promised my mother I would be a girl. Its just in school, it felt weird. I’ve been a boy all my life. I just didn’t want to show up one day wearing a school girl outfit and cause a riot.”

Mom’s school---the one I went to in elementary and middle school---had uniforms. The boys were pretty ordinary, pants, white long sleeve shirts, blazers. The girls wore the blazers too but they had skirts as well with knee-high socks and buckle shoes. I didn’t want to go one day dressed like a boy then return a few days later, wearing a skirt. It scared me. Not just because I thought kids were going to pick on me or try to kick my ass. No, it was more because it was something final. At the time I wasn’t ready to accept the truth and I think I carried that with me throughout my school career.

“I just thought I needed to be who everyone thought I was.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way but that’s just plain stupid.”

“What?”

She continued. “Who cares what others think? Everyone is different, its what makes people unique. Be who you want to be not who you think people want you to be. You want to be a boy, be a boy. You want to be a girl, be a girl. Don’t let society tell you who you are!”

Wow.

I never thought I’d hear Tess say something like that.

After her rousing declaration, Tess fell silent. We both did. The awkwardness set in, neither one of us sure what to say or do. I hadn’t really planned things out beyond this point to be honest. I told her the truth and honestly, I expected her to leave. I never expected her to be cool with it. I didn’t really know how to hang out with people. The last time I had any friends over was about seven years ago. We usually went to my room to play video games or watched TV. Things most boys did. I never had any girl friends. I didn’t even know what girls did with one another when they hung out.

“So what does your Dad think about all this?” she asked after several moments of silence.

That was a weird question.

“Jax is pretty cool about it actually.”

She gave me a look. “Not Jax, your other father.”

My other...Oh.

“I don’t know, I’ve never met him.”

I think it sounded sadder than it should have because the next thing I knew she was hugging me again.

“That sucks” she said when she pulled away, teary-eyed. “And I know the feeling.”

‘You never met your dad either?”

She wiped her eyes. “He’s gone, died before I was born. My parents met in Korea, Dad was stationed there. He died in a training exercise, there was a malfunction and the helicopter went down, everyone on board was KIA. Mom tried coping but it wasn’t easy. Dad’s sister---my aunt Julie---stepped in. She brought me to the US, adopted me shortly afterward.”

She started crying. This time I found myself hugging her. She cried for a bit and I did my best to comfort her. It was weird. I’d never comforted anyone like this before, it was nice.

She finally stopped crying, wiping her eyes again. “It wasn’t all bad though. Mom and I talk now, almost every day. She lives not too far away actually. She had some family here in the states. We have a good relationship. I love her just as much as I do my parents and my sisters. I love my father too but I would give anything to be held in the arms of my real father, just once.”

I started to tear up.

Shit.

Now she was hugging me.

What a pair we were.

When I was done with my crying, Tess had a look. She bit her lip, clearly contemplating something. When she spoke, I knew she was up to something. “You should find him!”

“What?”

“Your father,” she said excitedly. “I mean if my father was alive, I’d give anything to be able to see him. You should go look for your dad!”

"I don’t think that’s such a good...”

"Hear me out,” she said, interrupting me. “I know this may sound pushy of me and if I overstep, slap me. The thing is, you have a chance. You said so yourself, this summer is all about exploring and trying to find yourself. You’re closing a chapter in your life right?”

I couldn’t disagree so I nodded.

"Well, your Dad is part of that right?”

Shit.

I bit my lip this time. “I don’t know where he is. Hell I don’t even know who he is!”

Tess looked surprised. So I quickly filled her in on my sordid birth and all that. I left out the part about Mom’s past. I respected my mother’s privacy enough not to let that secret slip.

"That’s perfect!” she said, excitedly.

"What is?”

I was confused.

“We know where to look first!”

Huh.

She saw the dumb look I was giving and sighed. “You’re hopeless. Did your mother have a boyfriend at the time?”

Shit.

Well, she was Caroline Russel. She probably had a lot.

Though now that I thought about it….damn I was an idiot. I’d always wondered about my father for years. I kept asking and Mom refused to say. How was it that I never thought to check if she had any boyfriends back then? Tess was a damn genius. It was almost as if Fate itself put her in my life, maybe for this very reason. Ok so maybe I’m over thinking that bit but without her, I never would have thought of that. Without her, I never would have even thought about Dad. I mean sure I thought about him, probably every day. Hell, I wore his damn hoodie. It was just a thing though. Something of his that I had. Like an old sentimental keepsake of a person long gone. The thing was, Dad was out there somewhere. At least in theory. I mean I could be getting my hopes up for nothing though too. Could I end up with a tragic situation just like Tess?

The thing was, though, if I didn’t look, I’d never know.

“Let’s do it!”

“Seriously?”

I nodded, Tess squealed, jumping up and down like an idiot. She grabbed my hands, trying to pull me into her excitement. I didn’t squeal but I found myself bouncing around like an idiot too. What can I say, it was strangely contagious.

When we were finally done being morons, Tess put on her serious face.

“Ok so where do we start looking?”

“Not here,” I said with a sigh.

Mom wasn’t the type to keep things like that. She wasn’t exactly sentimental, especially about that time in her life. Sure she kept her old modeling portfolios but everything else from that life was long gone. After my kidnapping and the media frenzy that followed, Mom was done for good. She burned all her bridges, figuratively and literally. Scrapbooks, old pictures, clothes...all of it went into the fireplace. Anything that was Caroline Russel went up in smoke. I’m not sure why she kept Dad’s hoodie to be honest. A small part of me hoped and wished it was because she truly loved him?

“Your mother doesn’t have any old pictures?”

I shook my head. “She burned everything!”

“Why?”

Shit.

I’m sorry Mom but I have no choice.

I grabbed Tess’s shoulders, squeezing them gently. “What I’m about to tell you must stay between us, do you promise?”

She nodded.

“Say it!”

She gave me a strange look but nodded again. “I promise!”

Shit.

“I know where we might be able to find pics of my Mom” I sighed as I said it. “Everyone does. You see Mom is a bit famous.”

Tess’s eyes got big. She opened her mouth then closed it. Then she squinted, studying me. She looked around the room. There was a family photo on the fireplace mantle. Tess wandered over, getting close to scrutinize my mother. She stared for a long time. I watched and waited. When she finally turned around, I saw the smile. I think it took her a few minutes to process it but now I knew.

She figured out who Mom was.

It was hard not too.

Though it had been nearly twenty years, Mom hadn’t changed all that much.

Tess gave me an open mouth look.

“Your mother is Caroline Russell!" she said it softly but stared from me to the pic then back again.

“You promised not to say anything, remember!”

Tess stared at me again, the wheels in her head turning. “If she’s Caroline then that makes you….OMG, you’re Baby M!!!”

There it was.

My dreaded past.

Like the Lindbergh Baby before me, I was a bit notorious. My mother had been lucky though, she got me back. That didn’t stop the media from their circus though. I was quickly labeled Baby M. They all knew my name of course but that’s about all they really knew. After I was born, Mom fell off the radar. She kept herself fairly private. Then she disappeared altogether. She and I became a bit of a weird Urban Legend together. I’d seen the posts on social media and the numerous websites. Everyone always wanted to know what happened to Caroline Russell and her famous Baby M.

Now Tess knew the truth.

She was sitting on a literal gold mine.

“Tess” I said, tearing up again. “You can’t tell anyone, please!”

She was, hugging me again.

“Your secret is safe with me, I swear.”

She held me for a while but when I was done crying, Tess was smiling again.

“This is perfect though” she said, pulling out her phone. “Your Mom was very super famous. Her face was literally everywhere!”

She was furiously typing away.

“She was seen with a lot of guys” Tess continued.

“Don’t remind me' I said with a groan.

"One more than others though,” she said with a final smile as she stopped typing.

She turned her phone to face me.

I saw a pic of Mom from back in the day. She was still as beautiful as ever. She was laughing and smiling. She still did that but she looked really happy in that pic. I turned away from her for a second to look at the guy she was with. He was tall and handsome.

More importantly he was blonde.

Oh shit.

“Who, is he?”

Tess turned her phone back around. She started typing again but only for a second. She turned it around to face me again. The man in the previous pic was there again but older. He was wearing a very sharp and expensive business suit now. He was also in a fancy looking board room. It was a publicity photo of some sort. My attention stayed on him for a moment than on the large logo behind him: a W surrounded by a circle. I knew that logo, it was everywhere these days.

Only an idiot wouldn’t know it.

Wellington.

“This my dear girl,” she said with some satisfaction. “Is the Patrick Wellington, CEO and billionaire owner of Wellington Pharmaceutical.”

Son of a bitch.

“Mom dated him!”

Tess nodded. “According to Google, for quite a while. They broke up about...well right before you were born. There are some internet theories, the dates actually add up….”

She was still talking but I tuned her out.

The dates added up.

Shit.

Could this Patrick guy be my father???

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF

by:

MacKenzie Hodge has lived a life of secrets and lies. Chief among them is his, it, or her true gender? Now faced with an important decision, Mac has to decide what kind of future they want. Fortunately for Mac, there's a whole summer to decide.

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Author's Note: Ch.7, one more chapter in Mac's summer vacation adventure. I feel like this is where the story truly begins even though its probably at its halfway point now. I feel I dragged my feet a bit getting here. When I started this story, I knew what I wanted. The chapters leading up to this one were necessary but I think I took a bit longer getting here then I wanted lol. I've been criticized about it in the past and am trying to do better.

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7.

“I’m sorry Mr. Wellington isn’t available right now,” said the annoyingly polite woman on the phone. “I might be able to pencil you in for an interview in four months.”

Four months?

I sighed but didn’t let her hear it. Instead, I pretended to be polite too. “No, that’s all right, my project needs to be done before September. I guess I’m just going to have to find someone else.”

She thanked me for my interest in Wellington, tried offering me their typical student package. Something they apparently gave people like me doing a “school project”. I declined and hung up. Then cursed. The school project angle was Tess’s idea. It had been a pretty good one in theory. It's not like one could call up a place and say “Hey I think Mr. Wellington might be my father, do you think I can talk to him please?”. Defeated, I grunted and tossed my cell on the bed. It was another brick wall. It was also my third strike.

The first strike happened two days ago.

Tess and I tried the direct approach. We took a cab out to Wellington. We managed to get through the front door but not much further. The woman at the front desk had not been so polite in person as she had been on the phone a few minutes ago. Tess tried to press the issue. When the bitch threatened to call security on us, we bolted. I mean who the hell threatens high school students doing a project? Defeated, we headed back to my place then Tess tried calling. She pretended to be one those business magazines, looking to do an interview. It almost worked until the receptionist wanted to call the magazine to confirm a time with her editor. Tess panicked and hung up.

This whole thing was turning into a real comedy of errors.

Flopping back onto my bed, I stared at the ceiling.

It was strange to think that I might be this close to meeting my actual father. It was stranger still that he’d been in this city the whole time and I never knew. It was mind-blowing that he and I had a lot of things in common. He was blonde, he had green eyes, was left handed. I spent the whole rest of the night after Tess and I found him, looking him up on the internet. He and my mother dated for about five months. They were a pretty active celebrity couple for a while. Several news outlets thought they were going to get married. Back then there was no social media to muddle things up. Facebook wasn’t a thing yet and most of the celeb gossip was found in tabloids. Sadly their relationship sizzled right before Mom announced she was pregnant.

I couldn’t help but wonder if that was part of it?

I mean they were both pretty young at the time.

Patrick was still in college, Mom was still a model.

I could only imagine what kind of scandal it might have caused.

Patrick disappeared from the media spotlight after that. He resurfaced about ten years ago when he took over Wellington Pharmaceutical from his ailing father. By then he was a family man. He had a wife and a son my age. She was pretty enough I suppose, not quite up to my mother’s beauty though. I knew of his son too. Jason Wellington was pretty popular on social media these days. Not exactly as notorious as the Hilton sisters in their day but still pretty well known on the club scene. The fact that he was underage though, it was all pretty scandalous.
Patrick became CEO of the company only a year or so ago.

I remember reading about it.

The ringing of my cell distracted my thoughts. I absently reached over and answered it. I didn’t have to look to see who it was. The only people who had my number were my family and Tess. I’d already spoken to Mom this morning. She called every morning since they left and at least two more times during the day. I think she just wanted to make sure I wasn’t burning the place down or something.

“So how did it go?”

I made an annoying buzzer sound.

“That bad huh?”

“At least she was polite about it,” I said with a heavy sigh.

“Don’t give up yet, girl, we’ve got this!”

A few days ago, I would have flinched at being called “girl”. Maybe it was because I was spending so much time talking to her now or maybe it was because I was just starting to accept it? Ever since telling her my secret, Tess and I talked on the phone for hours. She also kept trying to drag me out to go shopping with her. It was all kind of weird though. I told her as much. I mean she had friends, lots of friends. When I told her that, she just scoffed it away and told me I should hang with them too. I wasn’t ready for that yet. Partially because all things ultra feminine kinda scared me but mostly because I didn’t want everyone in the school to know my true gender. I had no problem with Tess knowing but I couldn’t handle it if others found out.

I was already petrified that Lance knew.

I was paranoid about it too.

I kept checking Facebook to see if he blabbed. He didn’t. In fact, he barely had a social media presence. I think Lance was one of the very few teenagers who didn’t. I guess he was too busy filming people.

“So then, what’s our next step?”

“Well we tried the direct approach.”

“And that failed” I added.

She laughed. “So we take the non-direct one.”

“Which is?”

“I’m sending you a car,” she said, I could sense the mischief in her voice. “You and I need to step up our A Game.”

I groaned. I’m not sure I was going to like this.

“Stop fidgeting!”

“Stop trying to poke me in the eye then!”

“I would if you stopped fidgeting!”

Tess stopped trying to apply my eyeliner, long enough to scold me.

I’m not even sure how I let her talk me into this.

When she said we needed to “step up our A Game”, I thought she meant trying a different approach. I was half right but I never expected her different approach to entail this. Tess’s plan was simple. She did a little internet browsing. From various tweets, she discovered that every day---like clockwork---Patrick Wellington had lunch at a tiny bistro on the east side of the city.

So what did that have to do with me wearing eyeliner?

Simple.

The place was pretty upscale.

According to Tess, I never would be able to get through the door looking like a “bum”. Her words, not mine. So after getting off the phone with her earlier, she sent a car. Not a taxi either, an actual rental service car. Color me surprised. It took me directly to her upscale luxury apartment. It was all pretty fancy and modern looking but I’ll be honest, it didn’t really hold a candle to our place. Not that I’m bragging or anything but we did own the whole building. Her place was still nice though and large. I couldn’t believe how spacious it was. As soon as I arrived, she ushered me into her overly girly room and got to work.

De-bumifying me.

Her word.

“I swear, its like you’ve never worn makeup before.”

I didn’t say anything.

My silence spoke for me.

“Oh My God, you haven’t!”

That wasn’t totally a lie. I mean, this isn’t the first time someone has tried to shanghai me into it. Like Mom, Tess seemed to think there was only one kind of girl. Unlike Mom though, Tess wasn’t trying to force me into it. There were different kinds of girls out there after all. All kinds. I was just going to be the one who felt she didn’t need to wear makeup to breathe right. I was happy being the natural looking tomboyish girl.

I told Tess as much.

“Look, I’m not going to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do but every once in a while, even the Tomboy wants to look pretty.”

I didn’t have an answer for that.

Sighing, I admitted my defeat.

Tess continued her work. She told me what she was doing every step of the way. From the eyeshadow and eyeliner and everything in-between. She said she wanted to make me feel comfortable and didn’t want to do anything that was too over the top. It took longer than I thought. Apparently being beautiful is a long and arduous process. When she was finally done, I was stunned. The girl in the mirror was so far from me it was scary. Not a bad scary either. It was like waking up for the first time and seeing a sunset. Its something so serene and indescribable that all you could do was gap and stare and smile.

“I take it that’s a good thing then?”

She was Me.

I was Her.

I didn’t respond to Tess, instead, I leaned forward to get a better look. There was color on my cheeks, my lips were shiny and looked moist. Kissable even. My eyes though, they popped. I’m not really sure what she did to make them look like but I was in love. My lashes looked longer and the dark liner combined with the lightest bit of purple shadow. I was mesmerized.

“I could leave you alone with the mirror for a little longer but time is a factor here.”

She giggled.

She then grabbed my hand and gently pulled me away.

After the fabulous makeup job, I trusted her completely. On the ride over, she texted me about my measurements. The only reason I remembered them was because of the shopping trips with Mom over the last week or so. When I arrived there were already a few shopping bags in her room. I recognized the logo. I also saw the Forever21 on the way there. It was practically around the corner from her. She must have done some quick shopping while I was on my way.

“I respected your no skirt rule,” she said as she gently sat me on the bed.

Then the Dressing Began.

Tess had good taste.

She also listened to what I wanted.

Not like at all like my mother.

In the end, we decided on something pretty simple: a pair of white shorts, an off the shoulder light blue peasant top and a pair of wedged sandals. The shorts were a bit tighter than I wanted and I had to swap my usual boy cuts for something a little more practical but other than that, I liked them. They weren’t constricting toward my condition either. Most of the time I couldn’t wear tight things because of how it looked down there. These shorts were very flattering though.

“Wear this belt and this,” she said, handing me a belt and what looked like a necklace.

I put the belt on without question but the necklace, it was a little girly for me.

I didn’t dislike jewelry---I had a nose piercing after all---it was just something I didn’t go out of my way to wear. Partially because I spent most of my time in guy mode but also because my mother liked to go overboard with that too. I had a large collection of expensive and unworn jewelry back at home. My mother had a bit of a Shopaholic problem. It wasn’t just the clothes either. She went crazy for the accessories too. Whenever she saw something she just “loved” she had to have it for me. It made me feel like her real-life Barbie Doll sometimes. I knew she meant well in her own way but it pissed me off that she didn’t think I could dress myself.

“You sure about this?” I asked, still holding the necklace.

It was a covered in little flowers, definitely not me.

“It goes with the top!”

Tess was way too enthusiastic about it.

Groaning, I put it on.

“It has some matching earrings too!”

“No,” I said, pushing her hands down as she showed me them. I sighed. “I appreciate it but I’m not your doll.”

There I said it.

Now if I could only say it to Mom.

Tess frowned but nodded.

“Sorry, I get a little carried away some times” She took a deep breath. “I’m used to having willing victims.”

She did her best impression of a Mad Scientist laugh.

I smirked.

Then I sat on the edge of her bed to put on the sandals. They added an inch or two to my height. When I stood up, Tess made a disgusted noise.

I rolled my eyes.

“I hate you!” she said, staring up at me. “Tall, beautiful and thin.”

I strutted the room a bit, getting a feel for the difference. I’d worn heels before. Walking in them was easy. These sandals weren’t all that different. I just didn’t wear heels often because I hated feeling taller than I already was. Whereas most people had no problem being tall, as a girl who was five ten, a few added inches really made you stand out. I felt like a freak sometimes. I also hated the attention. Last summer on vacation, Mom wanted me to try wearing heels to dinner and the whole time everyone kept staring at me. I wanted to crawl back into our cabin and never come out. After dinner, I actually threw the damn things overboard when she wasn’t looking.

“I feel like a freak in these.”

“Trust me, honey, there is nothing freakish about you.”

We shared a laugh.

Tess scrutinized me a bit after that. She walked around me then made me twirl like an idiot.

“You need a bag!” she exclaimed a minute or so later.

She quickly started rummaging in her closet.

She had one of those massive walk-ins you would expect a girl like her to have. Just peeking inside, I could see loads of clothes. More than I’d ever seen in my life. Not just clothes either but shoes and everything else in-between. I wandered away and started glancing around her room, trying to preoccupy myself for a minute or two as she looked for the perfect bag for me. Like I said, she had an overly girly room. Light pink decor, a large queen size bed, tasteful bedding, lots of pillows. Her shelves were littered with cheer and scholastic trophies, her walls decorated with framed awards and posters of cute boys. I noticed quite a few famous male celebs, including current It Boy, Gavin Reese.

“Got it!”

She came out of the closet, literally, carrying a little white clutch.

“This is totes, you girl!”

I rolled my eyes.

Help me now.

The upscale bistro was a few blocks from Tess’s. I tried to talk her into walking but she insisted on ordering another car. It was clear to me that she was a pretty lazy girl. As much time as I spent taking taxis or on the bus, I spent more time walking. Especially if my destination wasn’t too far from home. I liked walking the city, seeing the sights. In a city this large, there was always something new and exciting to see. I was also a pretty active person. Tess it would seem, was like most. It didn’t matter if she could walk there or not, she just threw money at it and cheapened the experience.

Pulling up in front of the place, I sighed.

It was one of those places.

Tinted windows with drawn curtains, little tables out front that no one used. The bistro's name was stenciled around the front in fancy gold script, Pierre's. The place screamed rich to me. It was the kind of place I usually avoided to be honest. My parents usually did too.

“Looks nice,” said Tess as the driver opened the door for us.

She climbed out first, I quickly followed.

Both of us out the same door.

I got a weird look and a slight smile from the man.

Why would I make him do more work?

“We won’t be long, Charlie.”

“Yes, Miss Theresa.”

We left the driver and his car.

Once again, someone opened the door for us. He gave us both a curt nod but a strange look.

Stepping inside, I scanned the tables.

Everyone here was dressed like they had money. I felt a little underdressed to be honest. It was one of those places that businessmen ate lunch at too I noticed. It was all men too, most sitting together at tables designed for two. Not a single one of them were dressed casually like us. It made me feel very underdressed actually. Tess either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She acted like she belonged there. I tried to mimic her but I felt a bit awkward.

A moment later, we were approached by a matri de.

A tall man, dressed like the rest but with slicked-back hair and a thin mustache.

He stared at us strangely too.

It suddenly occurred to me that we were, in fact, the only two women present.

“Good afternoon, ladies, my name is Pierre. How may I assist you?” he said in a crisp, slightly accented voice.

Pierre, did that mean he owned the place, too?

“We were wondering if you could point us in the direction of Patrick Wellington.”

Pierre stared at us.

It was the calculating stare of a man who knew his job. I could read him like a book. There was no way that he was going to lead us to Mr. Wellington. This was the kind of place with high end clientele who valued their privacy. I looked past him at all the fancy tables and their fancy people. There was a bar off to one side, a swinging door to the kitchen and a staircase. In front of which was a roped off sign that said, PRIVATE. Clearly, if Patrick Wellington was anywhere it was up there in the private area.

Biting my lip, I put on my greatest performance.

“Pietro,” I said, mimicking a Valley girl and getting his name wrong on purpose. “So like do you want to tell him that his son knocked me up or do you like want me to shout it out right here?”

The look on Pierre’s face was priceless.

I actually thought his eyes were going to bug out of his head.

“Because” I said, raising my, voice. “I can like be really loud if I need too.”

My tiny outburst caught the attention of the men at a nearby table.

Pierre turned a shade of white.

“That won’t be necessary, Mademoiselle.”

He snapped his fingers. Immediately, a young waiter rushed to our side.

“Henry, please inform Mr. Wellington that he has a guest.”

The waiter---Henry---quickly rushed off.

Pierre turned To Tess. “If Mademoiselle would like, I can offer you a table while you wait for your friend?”

“She would like.”

He snapped his fingers again and another young waiter appeared.

“David, this young lady would like a table.”

He was tall and handsome, I saw Tess smile.

“Right this way please, Miss.”

He crooked his arm, she slipped her’s through and he slowly led her to a table. Tess started to flirt as they walked off. I could hear the giggles.

She worked fast.

I watched her for a few then snapped around when Henry returned. He was cute and young too but I was too focused to give him too much attention.

“Mr. Wellington is waiting.”

He tried to get me to take his arm but I ignored him. Giving me a strange look, he started toward the private stairs instead. I followed close on his heels. He stopped at the foot of the stairs, removing the rope and nodding. I thanked him then slowly made my way up. My heart was pounding a mile a minute. This was it, this was potentially the moment of truth time for me. I’d given it a lot of thought and I knew what I wanted. What I needed. If this man was my father, I just wanted the truth. I didn’t want him to acknowledge my existence or give me any money. I just wanted him to know that I was here and that if he wanted, I’d be willing to have a relationship with him.

Reaching the top of the tiny flight of stairs, I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

I looked around.

The private dining area was just as fancy as the one below. Unlike the one below though, the light here was all natural. There were large windows that took up the whole left wall. I could see a great view of the city street beyond. I think they were one-way glass though. Pretty swanky. Also very private. Looking away from the windows, I noticed the small bar area, a couple of tables and the lone patron.

Patrick Wellington.

The man of the hour.

I stepped forward and stopped suddenly when a large man stepped in front of me. Gray suit, shaved head, dark glasses. Private security. Like Jax but unlike Jax, this one was packing. I saw the bulge on his left side. No doubt military trained, the man studied me with searching eyes behind those shades.

“Its all right Frank”.

The man stepped aside.

He was big but I would have put up a hell of a fight.

I handed him my little clutch.

“Beware the lip gloss, its grape,” I deadpanned.

I saw a slight twitch at the corners of his mouth, a possible smile.

Other than that, Frank made no move to check my bag.

I looked from him to my target.

Patrick was fortyish, his blonde hair slicked back, his suit very expensive. He looked like he belonged in this place. Unlike the patrons below though, he had a bemused look as I approached the table.

“Before you begin,” he said, still slightly bemused. “My son Jason is in Cabo with his friends and his last girlfriend left him two months ago. She wasn’t you.”

Wow, busted that quick.

“If you knew all that then why agree to see me?”

“Because any young woman who was desperate enough to make up a lie like that, she probably has a very pressing reason to see me,” he said with a smile. “Miss...”

“Hodge,” I said, dropping into the seat across from him.

The bemused look disappeared.

“Mackenzie?” he asked, surprised.

So he knew me.

That surprised me.

Not as surprised as he was though apparently.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting this,” he said, loosening his tie a bit. “The last time I saw you, you were really little.”

I nodded. “I can’t say I ever remember meeting you.”

“It was a long time ago.”

Interesting.

“So what can I do for Carrie’s lovely daughter?”

No one called Mom that anymore, not even her own folks. It told me that the two of them had some kind of close, intimate relationship.

“You call Mom, Carrie?”

He smiled. “Your mother and I have been friends for a long time. Nearly twenty years now. You could almost say she’s my best friend. We try to have lunch almost every month you know.”

It hit me then.

Patty.

I felt like an idiot.

Mom’s friend from college.

Oh my God.

Patty was Patrick Wellington.

“You’re Patty?” I said, shocked.

He laughed. “Is your mother still calling me that!”

Carrie, Patty?

What was going on here?

Was Mom having an affair?

Patrick stopped laughing as soon as he saw my look. He was a sharp man, the wheels in his head turned just as fast as mine.

“Wait, no, you don’t think your mother and I...” He composed himself before he spoke again. "I admit to a relationship but that was a long time ago. Your mother is happily married.”

“And you’re not?”

“I didn’t say that but it's complicated.”

Complicated?

It hit me like a ton of bricks. How could I have been an idiot?

There were no women here, all the wait staff were young and attractive men. The private dining area, the one-way windows.

This was a gay restaurant.

This was a place where rich, white in-the-closet men could go and be private about said life. Downstairs, I realized that none of the men were actually alone. The tables were all set for two. The interior while expensive was also very feminine and lavish, far too lavish for a gentlemen’s only club like I originally would have guessed. It's also the reason why I kept getting strange looks. That both Tess and I were getting strange looks. I wonder if Tess knew and if she didn’t, should I tell her?

I leaned forward and lowered my voice, “You’re gay?”

I said it barely above a whisper.

“Its not common knowledge, I’d ask for discretion on your part.”

“Does my mother know?”

He nodded. “She does.”

“You’re married though!”

“Happily but it's for show, an arrangement made years ago. My father didn’t like the idea of his gay son ruining his company so measures were put in place. Gloria my wife is well compensated for her time. Before you ask, yes Jason is my son. One of the many agreements. We just never had sex to conceive him. He’s the heir the company needed and it satisfies my father.”

“Does he know?”

“My son, yes.”

Wow.

Of all the things, I never expected this.

“When you and Mom dated?”

He nodded. “I’ve known for quite some years actually. I was a teenager. I tried to hide in school but when I got to college, I started to experiment. Your mother was a good friend I met one summer in Starlight Cove when I was younger. We kept in touch. Its where the name Patty came from actually. When we got older, she agreed to be my Beard for the public. We “dated” for some time. We broke it off when she discovered she was pregnant, neither one of us wanted the scandal.”

Wait then that meant…

“You’re not him then,” I said, sadly.

“Not him?” Patrick’s eyes widened a second after he said it. “That’s why you’re here...you thought...”

I nodded, teary-eyed.

He reached forward and grabbed my hand gently. “Honey, I wish I was, I really do. I even wanted to be. I told your mother that I would take responsibility if she wanted but she refused. She didn’t want to do that to me. Of course, it didn’t stop the press from speculating. We did the whole paternity test thing and everything just to prove I wasn’t.”

I nodded, numbly.

Shit.

All of this for nothing.

I started to stand up, pulling my hand quickly from Patrick’s.

“I’m sorry that I wasted your time then” I said quickly, the tears freely flowing.

I’m such an idiot.

I made a mad dash for the stairs. Frank didn’t try to stop me. Patrick did though. He was fast, faster than I would have given him credit.

“Sweetheart, wait,” he said, grabbing my arm gently.

He spun me to face him, then pulled me into a hug.

It was surprisingly intimate.

He held me until the tears went away.

As soon as I felt I was done crying, I gently pushed from his embrace. He didn’t let me go though, he held my shoulders gently.

“I may not be your father but it doesn’t mean I don’t care,” he said, smiling. “Clearly you came here looking for answers and what kind of BFF would I be if I didn’t have any.”

He led me over to the closest table, pulled the chair out for me.

I sat.

"Your mother and I weren’t exclusive,” he said, sitting across from me. “She was a bit of a free spirit back then. Our relationship wasn’t real so she had quite a few others. Always with protection though, she was a careful girl. She was burnt out though. The job and the life was starting to get to her. So I suggested she take some time off, relax. She agreed and went back home. To Starlight Cove. It was right before Thanksgiving, November, nine months before you were born...”

Patrick was painting a picture for me.

He wanted me to fill in the blank spots.

It didn’t take me long.

“So,” I said, connecting things. “If I was looking for answers...”

He smiled. “Bright girl.”

If Patrick wasn’t my father, it meant there was someone else. Someone that Mom didn’t talk about, take photos with or even tell her best friend about. He had to be someone close to her though, someone she was willing to have sex with and not care about protection? He also had to be someone at home, her home.

Wow.

Mom and I hadn’t been there in years. It was Mom’s hometown but she left when she was seventeen for reality show stardom. After I was born, Mom straightened out her life but her parents weren’t as forgiving. They were happy that she was finally starting to fix her life but they remembered all the horrible things she put them through to get there. My grandparents never visited. I got cards at the holidays and on my Birthdays but they never came to see us. Mom and I went down there one summer though, alone. I was five. I barely remember the visit. I just remember the end of it when Mom got into a big argument with someone.

I always thought it was Grandpa.

Because it was a man...

Could it have been…

Like a light bulb, I knew what I had to do.

I smiled.

“Thank you, Patty,” I said happily, giving the man a big hug.

“Any time sweetie.”

He stood with me, giving me a hug again.

"We should do lunch, the three of us. Sometime before school starts?"

I smiled. "I'd like that."

He may not have been my father but he cared like one. I could see why my mother was friends with him.

I thanked him then quickly left the room, nodding to Frank as I did so. At the bottom of the stairs, Henry smiled. I smiled back. Tess was finishing up her light meal when I approached the table. She gave me a hopeful look but I shook my head.

“He’s not?”

“Nope,” I said with a happy sigh.

“Why are you so happy then?”

“Because I know where to look now!”

Starlight Cove.

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF