Author's NoteHey its been awhile, well at least awhile for new original content from me, the Whateley stuff doesn't count because that's not my universe. This is a story that I came up with out of pure boredom one day. So when I sat down to write it, I wasn't really sure where it was going to go beyond the initial idea I had. I call it a Slice of Life tale because honestly, there really isn't much more to it than that. The chapters are on the short side and the story probably won't go beyond fifteen chapters. I'm not even sure how contained it will be at this point. I'm literally making it up as I go along :D.

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1.

BUMP.

I groaned, nearly dropping my book. Cursing, I turned to the window. Just how many bumps were on this road anyway? I tried to look but of course I saw nothing. In a car, everything zoomed past. I tried my best not to look. It always made me queasy. I always got a little shit in cars, especially when the driver refused to go the speed limit. That was Uncle Frank. He was impatient in everything. If you weren’t going at his pace, he’d run you over. Never in a car of course but I saw him push a little old lady to the ground once. No joke. It didn’t help that he had this innate gift to find EVERY pothole in the road either. I turned away from the window and held my stomach, closing my eyes for a second. I was trying to keep down breakfast. I hated long car rides. Dad did too. It was one of the few things he and I had in common. It was something insignificant before but now…

Now it didn’t matter.

Sighing, I tried to go back to my reading. I got a few more lines into the paragraph when…

BUMP!

I cursed.

This time I did drop my book, I was also being glared at from the front seat. Mom was riding shotgun, doing her best to read as well. My swearing drew her attention and her ire. I could have apologized but what was the point. She was cursing twenty minutes ago.

“Frank, every one!”

My uncle grunted. “This car handles like a piece of shit...”

“It's not the car, Franklin,” snapped my mother.

The two of them started bickering.

It was almost as if they were siblings; oh wait, they were.

I tried to tune it out. It wasn’t easy. They’d been going at it nonstop since we left Arizona. We should have flown. Unfortunately we didn’t have the money for that. Mom tried to sell us on the genuine road trip experience for days. I wasn’t happy about leaving home but I was at least trying to be supportive. I couldn’t say the same for my very own sibling. Thankfully the backseat was wide enough that the two of us could actually put a few things between us. Not that it helped much. Allison was bit high maintenance. I think calling my sister “superficial” would be nice. I know what I wanted to call her most of the time but I would get grounded if I tried. Instead, I tried my hardest to speak to her as little as possible.

Most of the time it worked.

“Ally, can you get my book,” I asked, realizing that in the justle of dropping it it slid to her side of the car, out of my reach.

She couldn’t hear me though.

She was currently plugged into her phone, like usual. I tried raising my voice but her music was loud enough that I could hear it. Groaning, I did the only thing I could think of and smacked her. She snapped and glared at me.

“What the fuck, dweeb!”

“Allison language!”

“Mike hit me!”

Mom sounded bored.“Madison, stop hitting your sister.”

“I dropped my book at that last pothole and it rolled under Ally’s feet.”

Mom sighed. “Allison, get you brother’s book."

She rolled her eyes at me, reached forward and grabbed it. Then she whipped it at my head. I’m just glad I didn’t have the window open anymore. All our windows were shut now and the heat was even on. I couldn’t remember the last time we had heat on in the car. But we weren’t in the southwest anymore. A fact that my sister kept reminding us over and over again. When we left Arizona three days ago, she was bitching about the heat, like usual. When we left the motel in Pennsylvania this morning, Mom told us to dress warmer. It was January in the Northeast. There was actual snow on the ground. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw it in person. Well my sister didn’t listen and kept wearing the same short shorts. Of course she didn’t start complaining about the cold until we were in the middle of nowhere.

Now it was too hot.

At least the trip was finally almost over.

We were in New York now, the last leg of our trip.

Home sweet home.

Well at least for Mom and Uncle Frank anyway.

My family was native to a little town in Western NY called Duncan, it was so small most people didn’t know about it. It’d like to say it was one of those famous places that no one ever heard of but it wasn’t. There was nothing interesting about it at all. Unless you liked cows. There were A LOT of cows there. We lived there until I was in second grade when we moved to a suburb outside of Phoenix. That was eight years ago. It was home, a home we never expected to leave. No one expected Dad to get sick. They didn’t catch it in time and the last two years of our lives were a living hell. That was three months ago. We tried to make it work but all of us were miserable. That was when Mom finally decided we needed a change of scenery. Grandpa Phil passed away last year and Grandma Karen was all alone in a big house.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out.

So Mom quit her job, we sold the house.

Uncle Frank hopped on a plane and agreed to make the trip back “home” with us.

Of course Allison wasn’t happy. It was her senior year. She tried to talk Mom into letting her stay with friends but Mom didn’t want to leave her eighteen year old alone. So the two of them were barely on speaking terms at the moment. Except to fight of course. That was nothing new though. All Mom and Ally did was fight. It slowed down when Dad got sick but that just meant they did it quieter. Me, I did my best to keep my head down and soldier on. It's what I always did. As long as I had a book, I was good. It's how I coped. Books helped me get through life. They were definitely there to help me through the dark times. Even when I didn’t feel like reading and all I wanted to do was cry, they were still there.

They were my escape.

Eventually I had to come back to reality though.

The thing is, I’m not a fan of the world as it is now or how it was before.

Especially the people in it.

People always disappointed.

At nearly sixteen years old, I was short. Shorter than most boys. I had delicate features and a soft voice. It got me into a lot of problems. Dad tried his best to help. He tried to get me to do things with him that he and his Dad did. We played catch, attempted to lift weights in the garage. None of it really worked. Dad tried to get me to play hockey when I was younger once. I found a passion for ice skating but not the sport Dad wanted.It was Dad’s thing. He played professionally. First in Quebec then in Buffalo. It was the reason we moved to Phoenix actually. Dad was traded there to finish out his career. He retired about a year before he got sick. We thought it was just because he was getting older and slowing down but it was actually the cancer.

I didn’t stop trying Dad’s things though.

I tried to the end.

I thought maybe if I kept trying, it would help him get better.

It didn’t.

Another disappointment.

So it was back to my books.

A smack on my shoulder broke me from my thoughts. I turned and Allison was holding something.

“You dropped this too”.

It was an old photo that I used as a bookmark.

Taking it, I looked and smiled.

I only ever truly had one friend in my life. His name was Charlie. He was the closest thing to a best friend that I had. We only met that summer before we moved but it felt like I knew him for years. We were inseparable. He was probably the coolest kid I knew. He was everything I wasn’t which only made him cooler. Charlie was that kind of kid who was into everything, not just sports either. He was rough and got into fights. He would spit and curse. If it was raining, he’d jump into the first puddle he could find. If there was mud, it was all over him. If Allison gave us crap, he gave it right back to her. He was fearless too. I used to idolize the hell out of him. When we had to move away, I cried for days. It wasn’t something a boy should do but I didn’t care. We had that kind of bond and it was shattered in an instant. It took me a long time to get over it but I never forgot about him. We kept in touch for a while. We were on Facebook and emailing every day. We even video chatted when we could. Then the messages stopped coming and the emails were less and less. By the time middle school started, our friendship faded away. It was hard to keep a long distance friendship, at least that’s what I kept telling myself.

Charlie was my first disappointment.

“That’s your little boyfriend, right?” asked my sister with a laugh.

I rolled my eyes. “Haha, you’re a riot.”

I stuck the picture into the back of my book.

She didn’t stop though.

“Maddie and Charlie, you were so cute together!”

She started making kissing faces.

I fought back the urge to punch her.

Instead, I turned away from her back toward the window.

It was weird. I hadn’t actually thought about him in a long time. I found the picture when I was packing last week. It was stuffed in one of my old yearbooks. I gasped when I found it. Everything had been so bad and depressing at that point, for a very long time. I think it all started with him, with leaving him. But I was going back now. I could see him again. That excited me. It also scared me a bit too. I was pretty certain I knew why he stopped talking to me. He got a life after I was gone, he got new friends.

The thing was, would he even remember me?

The ride into New York was fairly uneventful.

Or would have been if Ally had a bigger bladder. The first rest stop sign we passed, she started complaining about having to pee. She and Mom went back and forth about it for nearly ten minutes, ultimately it was Uncle Frank who made the decision. So here we were again, making more delays. It was just as well though, I had to pee too. Not that I was going to say anything. I liked ribbing her and for the last five of those ten minutes, I teased her with various water related facts. If she could have gotten away with it, she probably would have slugged me. As it was, she was glaring fiercely.

“Well I suppose we could all use a quick stretch of our legs...”

We were pulling into the rest stop now. As soon as the vehicle stopped, Uncle Frank was out the door. He made a mad dash for a small area near a gas station, a second later he was lighting up. Mom wouldn’t let him smoke in the car and the man had been twitchy for a while now. I gave him another ten second glance before I rummaged in my pack for a rubber band. I finally managed to find one. I was starting to pull my hair back into a ponytail when it snapped. I cursed. Shit, it was my last one too. I usually didn’t care if my hair was loose but not in public.

“Hey mom, you have a rubber band?”

Please say yes, please say yes.

Mom looked in her purse for less than a minute and shook her head. “Sorry sweetie, borrow one of your sister’s things.”

I turned to Ally and she had that evil grin. “I’m not letting him put one of my things in his hair!”

“Allison”.

Mom was turned around in her seat and glaring now.

My sister rolled her eyes. She made an attempt to “search” her bag before giving me an overexaggerated shrug. “I think they’re in my other bag”.

Sure they were.

“Convenient,” I said and that grin of hers took evil to a whole new level.

So that’s how it's going to be.

“It's fine,” I sighed and got out of the car.

I pulled up my hood, doing my best to get most of my hair inside. The last thing I needed was for some idiot to see it and make a comment. I generally kept it long. I’m not going to lie, it was mostly out of spite. Mom and Dad used to send Allison and I to a swanky private school. It was where a lot of the players on Dad’s team sent their kids. To Ally it was a paradise, being one of the in-crowd was her thing. I was never a fan of conformity. Thankfully the dress code didn’t dictate hair length. I kept it past my shoulders because most of the boys my age kept it short. Ninety percent of them were dicks and I didn’t want to be like them. Like their parents, all they ever really cared about were sports. I learned early on if I kept my mouth shut and my head down, I was left alone mostly.

The thing was, it wasn’t my hair that made them notice me.

It was my face.

I looked like Mom.

I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, I loved my mother. The problem is, she was gorgeous. I know most kids think their mother is gorgeous but mine really was. She was a bit famous too. As a teenager, she used to be a figure skater. She won various competitions, even went to the Olympics. For a time, she was a household name. Then she gave it all up to go to college. It caused a bit of a rift between her and Grandma for a few years. A rift that was healed when Allison was born. When I was born a few years after that, their bitterness was all but gone. Things were still tense with them from time to time but time heals all wounds they say. Alas, Allison turned out to be a disappointment to Grandma. When her attempts to turn Ally into another Mom failed, she shifted her focus to me.

It helped that I liked to skate.

I felt free when I was on the ice. Unfortunately, it wasn't the same. I was a boy after all. Grandma tried to rope me into competitions but I was never interested. Mom taught me everything she knew though. Most of it was for girls but I didn’t care. Like I said, I was dainty and a bit on the small side. It was perfect for me to do a lot of the things that she used to do. The thing was, I knew she regretted some of it too. I once overheard her talking to Dad about me, said she wished “...Maddie was a girl too. He’s got such talent, he could go far...” It was around that time that I stopped skating too. I loved my parents but I was tired of them trying to turn me into a clone of them all the time.

So I decided to just be me.

A me that didn’t care what others thought of him.

Well, most of the time.

Like I said, I didn’t like the attention.

Walking from the car toward the rest stop building, I could already feel several eyes watching me. There were quite a few cars in the parking lot. I know they were all empty but being around this many people made me jumpy. Most people might think it was because I was afraid. In a way, I was but not for the reason one might think. I wasn’t a target for bullies. Hell, I think I would have welcomed some guys trying to beat the crap out of me. Yeah, it sounds crazy wishing to be beaten up but it was better than the alternative….

There was a group of them standing near the entrance. They were college age, standing around smoking. They were laughing amongst themselves. I noticed them when we first pulled up but I was hoping they’d be gone by now. No such luck. I took a quick glance their way as I was walking just to gauge what I might be up against. They were taller than me, well most boys were. They were all dressed for winter: heavy coats, gloves. If I had to guess, they were probably on their way back to college after break. I kept my head down and attempted to push past them.

“Hey, check this one out”.

Shit.

“Wow, a real cutie” said another.

“Way hotter than the first one.”

The first one they were no doubt talking about was Allison. My sister was cute in her own right. A lot of the boys liked her. Then they started to talk to her and found out that being pretty didn’t mean being nice. She had a horrible personality and treated people like dirt. I often told her if she kept it up she’d be old and alone in her later years. Then she’d get mad and hit me. She liked the attention though. I can only imagine that she tried her best to get them to notice her.

I was waiting for them to try to block the door but they didn’t.

I sighed in relief myself and pushed my way inside.

I stopped shaking as soon as I was far enough away.

I found a spot away from the entrance to catch my breath. Thankfully, that was a lot tamer than usual. Some guys just didn’t know when to quit. It didn’t matter how many times I told them I wasn’t interested. I tried telling them I’m not a girl too. That used to work when I was younger but as I got older, words like that only caused problems. Most either didn't believe me and those that did, just got really angry. I found that eventually trying to deny them was futile so I just tried to avoid them whenever possible. Most of the time it worked, other times…

“Hey wait up!”

Double shit.

There was ALWAYS one.

I cringed.

I thought about ignoring him but that never worked. So instead, I pretended not to hear him and made my way toward the restrooms. It wasn’t a lie, I really needed to pee. I could have blown his mind and went into the men’s room but that would have meant he could follow. That’s the last thing I wanted. The thing is, I did not want to go into the ladies’ room. I groaned. I was trapped and there was nothing I could do but wait and see what this guy wanted. Taking a deep breath, I slowed down a bit so he could catch me. There was no point trying to run anyway, I wasn’t that fast.

So I decided to turn and face him.

He was tall. He had rugged good looks too, sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. I was right to say he was older than me too, probably only by a couple of years though. There was something else about him too, something that I couldn’t place. It was almost as if we’d met before but I couldn’t figure out where. Which was crazy of course because I hadn’t been in New York in what seven or eight years.

He smiled, rubbing the back of his head. “Hey sorry about that. Those guys are idiots.”

Well at least one of them wasn’t.

“It's fine,” I said, willing to say anything to get rid of him.

This was embarrassing.

“I’m Steve by the way,” he said, flashing that award winning smile.

Wow, his teeth were so white.

This was usually the point where I burst the guy’s bubble. They would come on strong and all flirty, tell me their name and hope to have a chance. I usually felt bad afterward but it's not my fault I look the way I do. I tried cutting my hair once but people kept complaining at me for doing so, “why would such a pretty girl have hair that short” was a big one, so I just stopped. There was no point in trying. I was pretty much numb to all of it nowadays. If someone said, “oh you’re so pretty”, I took the compliment and moved on. If a guy flirted with me, I turned him down. I was always careful too. I started to read people in a way. I think I had a pretty good idea who was who and who might react badly to the truth.

Steve seemed like a nice guy.

What the hell? It's not like I’ll ever see him again anyway.

“I’m Maddie”.

“Well it's nice to meet you Maddie, I hope you have a nice trip.”

He then turned and started to walk away.

Wait, that was it?

Wow.

He got about five feet away before stopping and turning around.

“I’m sorry if this sounds weird but have we met before?”

“What?”

He was giving me a strange look. “It's just you look awfully familiar but I can’t quite place it...”

Ok, so that was a new line. I’d been hit on a lot lately and guys tried lots of different tactics. Feigning some kind of connection to me, a connection that was clearly fabricated, that was a new one. The thing was though, Steve seemed awfully familiar to me too. Maybe it was because he just had one of those looks. He looked like a typical All-American college student. He also looked like he could be on the cover of a magazine. I’m not going to lie either, he made me a bit jealous too. Steve was definitely the type of son that would make a father proud.

“Sorry, I’m just passing through, never been here before,” I lied.

I didn’t want a complete stranger to know where I lived or where I was going to live.

He nodded. “Must have one of those faces I suppose...”

“I get that a lot,” I lied again.

“I’d ask if you wanted to get something at the snack bar with me but this is awkward enough as it is, so I’ll just leave you to it.”

Good, because my bladder was about to burst.

He finally left but didn’t stop staring.

Now, that I was familiar with.

I watched him until he retreated back to wherever his friends were. As soon as he was completely gone, I made a mad dash for the restrooms. I was almost into the men’s room when a little old lady leaving the ladies’ room stopped me.

“Sweetie, that’s the boy’s loo,” she said with a friendly smile.

“Oh, I guess it is,” I said, thanking her as I went into the girls’ room.

I rolled my eyes as soon as I stepped inside.

I would be ashamed if this was my first time in the ladies’ room. It sadly wasn’t. I was all too familiar with places like this these days. This one had a peach colored décor and smelled like lilacs. I’m not going to lie, ladies’ restrooms always smelled a lot nicer than the mens’. I went into a stall and quickly peed. I didn’t want to spend anymore time in here than I had to. At the sink, I washed my hands as quickly as possible. In the mirror, I saw my reflection and groaned. Staring back at me was Maddie The Girl. Even with the hood and part of my hair spilling out of it, I still looked like a girl.

There was a flush behind me and a girl around my age approached the sink next to me.

“Girl, you need some color.”

“I’ll get right on that,” I said a bit rudely before leaving.

I was done being nice.

Walking out of the restroom, my phone buzzed.

It was a text from Ally:

YOU FALL IN?

I groaned and typed a response:

OMW.

Thankfully, Steve and his friends were no longer hanging around the entrance. I sighed in relief before making my way out of the building. Ally was standing outside near the car, looking annoyed. She huffed at me as we both got inside. I’m not sure what her problem was, she could have gotten in without me. A few minutes later, we were on the road again. I found my book but I couldn’t get back into it. Every time I tried, I kept getting distracted thinking about Steve.

“He was cute,” said my sister out of the blue.

“What?”

Could she read my mind?

“The guy, you have good taste.”

There wasn’t a mocking tone to her voice either.

“Shut up!” I said and slugged her arm.

“Mom!”

“Madison!”

I sighed and apologized.

Now that I was thinking about it anymore but why was he sticking with me when no one else ever did?

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. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF

Author's NoteMeant to post this last week, couldn't get it edited in time. This chapter is shorter than the last. I also changed the spelling of the sister's nickname, it works better this way.

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2.

We arrived in Duncan a little after one in the afternoon.

Compared to Phoenix, the place felt tiny. Ok, so technically, we didn’t live in Phoenix, but we were only a twenty-minute car ride away. You could officially call this place the country. There was nothing but farms for miles. The city proper was centered around one main road with several smaller ones branching off it. Most of the important things - city hall, a couple of churches, the school - they all branched off from that road. In order to get to Grandma’s place, we had to drive straight through the city. Looking out the window as we passed all the Mom and Pop stores, I couldn’t help but feel a bit of nostalgia. The last time I was here, I was barely nine years old.

“Wow, they still have that old theater?”

Frank scoffed. “The city council tried to tear it down to build a more modern one, but the historical society stopped them.”

It was no secret that Uncle Frank was all about progress. He spent a good portion of the ride bitching about how Duncan was not willing to take a step into the 21st Century. In fact, according to him, they were barely into the 20th Century. Looking out at all the buildings as we passed them, it was clear that he wasn’t far off. Most of them looked like they were built in the fifties and had the chipped paint and fading signs to prove it. If I remembered correctly, the city’s economy was built around farming. Most of those farms were going under now though due to modern advances. The city was dying and from the looks of things, it was practically a corpse already.

It was kinda sad really.

It was getting sadder every day too.

“Jack Carson is the only one who makes sense around here,” my uncle continued as we drove.

Carson?

Charlie’s Dad?

If I remembered correctly, Charlie’s dad was a big-time real estate guy. Before I moved, he was in the process of working some kind of land contract just outside the city. I wasn’t really interested at the time because, well, I was eight. I read something about it before moving here. I liked to be informed now. According to the article I read online, Carson Estates was a huge development outside the city. Mr. Carson was now trying to bring in new business, starting with a strip mall and a lucrative development deal with one of the tech moguls. This area was a prime location for computer server farms. The problem was the locals. Carson was buying up a lot of farmland and converting it into viable property for future development. People were fighting it and from what I could tell, losing.

My grandparents opposed it. Their opposition was gaining steam until Grandpa’s heart attack. With Grandpa gone, no one had the audacity to fight Jack Carson. Grandpa’s law firm was left in limbo. It nearly closed its doors before Mom agreed to move back home. Things hadn’t been easy though. Grandpa was a civil rights attorney and Mom studied contract law. Back in Phoenix, she was just a cog in a very large machine. Now she was going to be her own boss. If I remembered correctly, Grandpa only had one partner. A partner who was struggling to keep things going. He was happy for Mom’s help. Things weren’t going well with him, either. Especially with people like Uncle Frank fighting against him. Driving up here, my mother and her brother barely spoke to one another.

“I’m not getting into this again,” Mom said, and the subject was dropped.

They had argued about it on and off over the last couple of days.

I, for one, would be glad to finally leave this car.

My wish came about ten minutes later as we finally arrived at Grandma’s farm.

The farm in question had been in my grandmother’s family for a few generations. It was passed to her by her father, who received it from his father. It would officially pass to Uncle Frank when Grandma passed, though that was up for debate. Everyone in the family knew what Frank intended to do with the land. He kept trying to convince Grandma it was time to let things go and move on. Being a Madison meant very little to my uncle. The fact that the Madison homestead sat on several acres was the only thing he saw. Well that, and future dollar signs. It was no secret that Carson wanted the land and that Frank was already making a deal to sell it.

Us being here was a hindrance to said plan.

Grandma wasn’t a moron though.

Mom was the oldest by two years, but per her parents’ will, she inherited the law firm. Frank was the one who inherited the farm. As it was now, Grandma was already in the process of drawing up a new will. She intended to leave everything to Mom. Something that Frank didn’t know for sure but more than likely suspected. To say he was pissed was putting it mildly.

Pulling up in front of the large farm house, Grandma was waiting with a smile.

It was easy to see she and Mom were related. They both had the same dark hair and green eyes, like me. They were both short too, like me. The only thing the three us didn’t have in common was our gender. Though to many, that was up for debate.

“Oh, my babies!”

She was hugging Allie as soon as she got out of the car. For an old woman, she was pretty fast. My sister didn’t even have time to react to the ambush. I suppressed a laugh, because as soon as my sister managed to get away, I was next. Unlike Allie who looked annoyed, I welcomed Grandma’s hug. It was warm and comforting. Not that my mother didn’t have comforting hugs, there was just something about a grandma’s hug that made everything all better. I got lost in it, even going so far as putting my head on her shoulder. A gesture made possible by the fact that I was only an inch or so taller than her five foot three height.

Yep, I was that short.

Sigh.

Grandma finally let me go and looked me straight in the eyes almost.

Double sigh.

“Well, aren’t you as cute as button, just like your Mom.”

Great, just what every boy wants to hear.

She even booped my nose with a gleeful giggle.

“Mom, stop teasing, you’re going to bruise his male ego.”

Mom was out of the car now, Uncle Frank was too.

I think I heard him scoff at Mom’s comment.

Yeah, well, Fuck You, Frank.

Grandma moved on from me to Mom, hugging her just a bit longer than us. There was a hidden meaning in that hug that was understandable to sadly a lot. Two women sharing their grief, roughly a year apart. The hug lasted only a minute or so and when she let Mom go, she glared at my uncle.

“Franklin, stop being an ass, and get the bags.”

Uncle Frank grumbled as he opened the back of the SUV. I watched as he started taking out the suitcases there. We traveled fairly light. Most of our belongings we put into a moving truck and one of those storage pod things. Most of our furniture would go into the barn while we stayed here. Mom had a plan. We would live with grandma for a month or two then find our own place somewhere. Grandma was happy to have us and told Mom to take her time but it was clear she liked living alone too. Mom had other plans. She wanted to make sure everything was ok. Mom’s cousin Maggie called her last month about Grandma. There were some health concerns that the family was worried about. Mom didn’t let on she knew about those concerns, but like I said, Grandma wasn’t a fool.

She emailed me shortly after Mom told her we were coming. The woman was pretty clever when she wanted to be. I guess it helped that she used to be a mathematics professor. She caught onto Mom’s scheme pretty quick, but she told me she’d let my mother have her moment. Even now as she berated Frank for his thoughtlessness, she looked past him to wink at me. I gave her a smile back, the two of us sharing our own secret.

“Maddie, why don’t you help Frank with those bags?”

I knew Mom was trying to boost my ego after Grandma’s demasculinization from a few moments ago but we both knew there wasn’t much I could do to help. I wasn’t Dad after all. My arms were like pipe cleaners. I wouldn’t be able to move those cases an inch. I should know, I tried to move them out of the house when we packed the car back in Arizona. After some not so playful teasing from Frank, he unloaded the car by himself.

Mom looked at me strangely for a moment before she realized her blunder.

She gave me a sad smile before going to get a case herself.

Yep, even my own mother could lift one.

I was a failure as a man.

Ok, so I didn’t really care.

Well not much anyway.

Being masculine and the strongest was not my thing. Dad wanted it to be, though. He did everything he could to make me like him. It wasn’t just the “trying to get me to play hockey stuff” either. He tried to fully immerse me in all things “guy”, but it never really worked out the way he wanted. Hockey had led me to figure skating, weight lifting had led me to Pilates and sports games had led me to, well, HATING sports games. Dad didn’t stop trying to relate to me though. He encouraged me in everything I did, even if he didn’t like or even understand it. He did like it when Charlie was around though. We used to do a lot of boy things together, something I think made Dad extremely happy. Dad smiled every time I came home covered in mud. When we moved away, I think he was just as sad as I was to lose Charlie. I fell back into my old habits quickly, and it only got worse, according to his thinking. It didn’t help that I didn’t really have a lot in common with most boys my age after Charlie. My only real friend back home was Leon, his family was from South Korea, and the two of us became friends through a science fair in the 4th grade.

I use the term “friends” very loosely though.

Most of the time we hung out, we studied.

When we actually did talk to one another, it was usually about school work.

The rest of the time we sat in either his room or mine, reading in total silence.

Fun times.

Leon kept me sane though.

He also finally helped me get over Charlie.

In a weird sorta way.

“You ok, honey bun?” asked Grandma as she sidled up next to me.

I was still standing at the back of the SUV, all of our bags unloaded now.

I blinked, not realizing I was lost in thought again.

“I’m good, just thinking.”

She smiled, bumping my shoulder with hers. “Well, let’s get inside, I’ll show you to your room. I think you’re going to like it!”

I did my best to smile.

Grandma’s house was huge.

It was built by her great-great grandfather at the turn of the last century. By the standards of the day, it was considered fairly large. It had had three remodels and expansions since then, the last circa 2002ish, shortly after Allie was born. Walking into the foyer and the large living area, you could see where old met new. Especially with the furniture and electronics. My grandfather tried to stay as up-to-date and as modern as he could with those kinds of things. The 50-inch 4K TV being a big example of that. I felt a twinge of sadness staring at that TV, because Dad would have loved it for his “game nights” as he called them. Back home, he had converted our den into a sports area for him and his old teammates to watch the games. That TV would have made their day.

Looking beyond the room, my eyes were drawn to the large staircase leading to the second floor. Beyond that, I knew the hall led to the kitchen, dining, and sunrooms. There was a guest bedroom on the first floor as well. It had been one of the later additions.

“I’ve set you up down there, Debra, there’s all new linens and the walls have recently been painted.”

“Mom, you didn’t have to do that!”

“Don’t be silly!”

That’s the kind of person my Grandma was. She took a moment to lead Mom down the hall, while Allie and I waited patiently in the living room. Grandma had this way about her. Sure, my sister and I could have gone storming up the stairs to find our own way, but it would have upset her. Grandma liked to personally make sure everyone had their place and she got satisfaction out of showing each of us said place. Thus, only a minute or so later, she returned down the hall, smiling.

“Right this way, kids!” she said, leading us toward the stairs herself.

The second-floor landing was wide enough for all three of us but we only stood on it for a few seconds before she led us down the hall. The first door was on the right; it was the bathroom. It was an old holdover from the pre-2000 renovation, because all the rooms had ensuites now. There was also a bathroom downstairs, for guests. That one had been the original bathroom before the renovations when my mother and Frank were kids. I remember Mom talking about how hard it had been sharing a bathroom with him. The new bathroom and the ensuites were added when they were teenagers.

The first bedroom was right after the bathroom.

“This was Frank’s room, I thought I’d put Madison in here,” said Grandma, opening the door.

We all took a peek inside.

I knew from the last time I was here, that Uncle Frank had the largest room in the house. At one time it was decorated with a bunch of his childhood crap. Now all of that crap was gone, replaced with a dull gray décor and some nice prints on the wall. I could see myself in this room. It wasn’t too overdone or flashy. There was a desk too, and if I asked, I’d probably be able to get some shelves in here for my books.

“Wait, you’re going to put me in Mom’s old room, then?” asked my sister.

“That was the plan.” said grandma with a reassuring smile.

Allie shook her head. “The smaller room? I don’t think so!”

She pushed past us, slamming her shoulder into me as she marched into the room.

She went to the king-size bed that dominated most of the room, and dropped herself upon it.

“THIS is MY room.”

I rolled my eyes.

Of course she’d make a powerplay, it was typical Allison.

“Allison dear, this is a fine room, but your mother’s room...”

“Is Madison’s now.” finished my sister, with a smug determination.

I sighed. “It’s fine, Grandma, there’s no point arguing with the spoiled brat.”

Allie glared at me for the remark but said nothing.

My grandmother stood in the doorway and stared at Allie for a moment. “Allison, we will discuss this later.”

My sister’s glare evaporated instantly. Allie might not have been afraid of being a bitch with Mom, but I think Grandma scared her. I couldn’t help but smirk to see the color drain from her face. She didn’t even attempt to hide it either, which was all the more satisfying.

We left her to her fear and started further down the hall.

My mother’s old bedroom was the next door but on the opposite side of the hallway. I’d seen it before so I knew what to expect. When Grandma opened the door, I noticed nothing had changed since the last time. The room still had a pale pink décor; it still had that canopy bed and all the stuffed animals. There were two dressers, a nightstand, and a desk. On the walls were various posters, some of pop stars, but most were famous figure skaters my mother idolized. There were skating trophies everywhere. But, the focus of the room was a display case over my mother’s bed. It was where she kept her important medals. Chief among them were the two Silvers and the Gold from the Olympics.

Mom still got stopped and asked for autographs every once in a while.

Allie thought it was embarrassing, but I thought it was the coolest thing ever.

“I’m sorry that your sister took the other room,” said Grandma, with a frown, clearly expecting me to complain about the girliness of this one.
I shook my head. “A room is a room.”

In truth, I was happier to be in this one. Whenever we used to visit Grandma before, I had slept in this room. I’m not sure why, but it made me feel closer to my mother. Smiling, I walked further into the room. I found myself sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at the bookcase on the far wall, next to the closet door. Mom was a reader like me. She didn’t just read some best sellers either. I knew from our personal library back home, that Mom liked classic literature. It was apparently a hobby she had in childhood too, because I saw a lot of really good books. I smiled at the prospect of reading some of my favorites again.

“Your sister doesn’t know what she gave up.” said grandma as she went over to the closet, opening the door. “This is a walk-in. Something I was hoping to show her before she got selfish.”

I stood up and walked over.

Sure enough, the closet was huge. A lot of my mother's old clothes were still there. It was like a 90s flashback, one I couldn’t help but smirk at. Lots of bright colors that most people wouldn’t be caught dead wearing today. In the back of the closet, beyond the flashback, were her skating outfits. I was actually surprised to see them there. I thought for sure they’d be somewhere more official. I started to reach for the sleeve of one of her practice jackets when I stopped myself. The last thing I needed was for Grandma to think I was weird.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” she asked, I nodded. “Well, there is this too.”

Grandma pulled a little step stool forward, then reached up toward the ceiling. I followed her hand and saw a hatch with a chain. A second later, she was pulling on the chain and the hatch opened, a ladder folded down.

Mom’s room had an attic!

The ladder fully fit in the space of the closet. Grandma led the way up; I followed. I was surprised how spacious it was up here. There was enough room for me to stand. It wasn’t dusty either, which told me my Grandmother cleaned it often. There were a lot of boxes, but I also noticed a couple of trunks, a sewing table, and a dress dummy. The table and the dummy really surprised me.

“You sewed Mom’s outfits?”

“At first, but eventually your mother did most of it.”

I was shocked.

“I didn’t know Mom could sew?”

Grandma chuckled. “Before going to school for law, your mother wanted to be a fashion designer. She used to spend hours up here designing outfits. She even managed to make a few.”

I wasn’t expecting any of that. Mom told me a lot about her past, but she never mentioned ever wanting to be a fashion designer. It was kind of sad really. It sounded like my mother had a passion and a dream, and she gave it up. I made a mental note to find a time and place to ask her about it. Maybe it would finally help me figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Sure I was only a freshman in high school, but it was never too early to think about it. In three more years, I’d be going to college too. I didn’t want to start it without knowing what I wanted to do.

“Now then, I’ll have Frank bring your cases to this room. Why don’t we go get your sister and have some lunch.”

I smiled.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had a good, home-cooked meal.

Mom was many things, but a chef was not one of them.

“That sounds great."

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. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated. Thanks in advance...EOF

Author's Note: This is another shorter chapter. Every time I try to write longer ones, I just find the perfect spot to end the chapter. I'm sorry this is slow going and I'm afraid to say, its not getting any faster. Even now, I'm still stuck at only a pages into Ch.5. I know where I want to go with it but just don't have the push to get there. I'm seriously debating just pulling the whole thing but I need some impact. I've been told by a couple of people that this is my best story yet but I'm not sure I can keep it up :(.

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3.

The blaring of the alarm woke me up.

Groaning, I rolled over to take a swat at it, only to find it not in its usual spot.

Hey, who moved…

Oh right, I wasn’t home anymore.

Grumbling, I pushed myself up, ignoring the pink bedspread and flat sheet and stumbled across my bed. It was Mom’s idea to put the alarm far away. She told me this year I was going to get up on time from now on. Only a few days into 2019 and Mom was already making New Year’s resolutions for more. More grumbling got me out of bed and over to the far side of the room where the accursed thing sat on the desk. Shutting it off, I debated stumbling back to bed. It was six am after all, and my mother was a demon for setting the alarm that early, especially on a weekend. She wanted me to get used to getting up early again, though. My vacation waking habits were not to her liking.

With the dreaded morning invader silenced, I went about trying to sort out the rest of my morning.

My first order of business was taking a shower.

I found my desk light, turned it on, then stumbled toward the bedroom door, still half asleep. I was almost out of it when I remembered the room had its own bathroom. Turning around, I stumbled some more, this time over to the door I mistook as another closet yesterday. I nearly tripped over a box on my way, cursing. It was going to take some getting used to, especially navigating this place half awake. I hoped it would be easier with some of these boxes gone. The moving truck arrived late yesterday afternoon. Most of our stuff ended in the barn, but there were a few things that we needed. For me, it was my books. Allie couldn’t live without her computer. She had it set up before the movers even finished. She had taken to vlogging a couple of years ago and had quite the following. Personally, I thought most of her stuff was bitchy, but I guess she had a brain-dead audience.

Her last several videos had been about the move and how unhappy she was.

There was a lot of sympathy.

I’m not sure if people actually cared or if it was because she flashed her mostly male viewer-base her boobs whenever she could.

Yep, she was that KIND of vlogger.

Mom wasn’t thrilled about it, but at least she was happy that Allie had some kind of hobby. I think my lack of anything bothered Mom a lot. She tried everything to get me more active. It started after we moved to Arizona. At first it was to try and help get over losing Charlie. I think Mom thought if I got active in something and made new friends fast, I’d get over the one I left behind. That’s when Dad tried to insert himself into things too. Whereas Dad’s plan failed time and time again, Mom was making progress. She got me to take up skating again. In Duncan, Charlie and I used to go skating every weekend. They had this indoor ice arena that was really popular with all the local kids. I was happy to find out it was still there and still just as popular.

Mom found me a similar one after the move.

It worked for a while until she pushed it too far. Mom would never openly admit she missed skating because she didn’t want to prove Grandma right. So instead of pining over what she lost, she tried to substitute it. Allie was never interested. That meant Mom’s only hope was me. Unlike my sister, I showed some real talent for it. I used to love it when I was little, but as I got older and the boys started to realize I wasn’t a girl, things changed. It was never a problem here in Duncan, but in Phoenix, a boy figure skater was blood in the water. I stopped in sixth grade. Middle school was bad enough without the guys knowing you twirled around on the ice. When I stopped skating, the bullying stopped too. I went back to my books and the boys found something else to interest them.

By eighth grade, that interest shifted back toward me.

Hormones were starting to run high, and those guys who knew I was a boy, began to think they were mistaken, and, well, the insults started to turn into pick-up lines.

I figured dodging compliments was better than dodging fists, so I let it happen.

After a while, after so many rejections, it became a matter of pride for them.

All of them wanted to try and melt the “Ice Queen” as they called me.

Ironically, it's actually what they called me when they used to pick on me about figure skating.

Strange how that works.

It didn’t work out for them.

Just as trying to get me focused on something else didn’t work for Mom either.

Not even the therapist could break through to me.

Therapy was a different thing altogether though.

I shook my head, trying to dislodge those thoughts.

I was fairly awake now.

Wandering into the small bathroom, I found a sink, a toilet, and a shower. It wasn’t much to look at, but it was better than having to share with my sister. Back home, we only had two bathrooms. One was meant for my parents only. The other, I had to share with Allie. Say what you will about my sister, but she was a slob. She made a mess of every room she entered. She left her hair products and make-up lying about, never put her clothes in the hamper, left wet towels lying where she dropped them. She even left her feminine hygiene stuff sitting on the counter. That last bit really angered Mom. I couldn’t remember how many times she would yell at her for it. Allie would just shrug and say, “I keep forgetting Maddie’s not a girl,” which only angered Mom more.

I sighed in relief when I looked in the mirror.

I smiled a bit too.

This place was all mine.

I stared at myself in the mirror for a few moments. Most boys my age would be unhappy to see what I saw, but I wasn’t one of them. My face wasn’t manly, but everyone was different. I learned long ago to accept it and move on with my life. Was I envious of manlier men like my father? Sure. Did I want to be like them? Not really. Being like that seemed like a lot of hard work to me. They kept striving to impress people all the time, it must have been exhausting. Being me was easier as far as I was concerned. The only thing I had to deal with on a daily basis was people mistaking my gender. I didn’t go out of my way to hide it and generally ignored it when it happened. Like I said, most of them were harmless. Only a few wouldn’t take no for an answer, and sure, sometimes they pushed it, but they eventually gave up too. Something that a lot of men seem to forget is that women hold a lot of power. Not physically, but if a woman doesn’t want something, she generally wins. Sure there are plenty of men who can’t accept that, but unless they get violent, there isn’t a lot they can do about it. I’m not a woman, but given my circumstances, I felt like a kindred spirit to them in that way.

I might be small and girly, but I was in control.

I took that control to finish my morning routine.

After peeing and brushing my teeth, I got into the shower. Back home, I had to rush it because Allie was always up my ass to shower faster. Here, I could relax and take my time. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore my lack of muscles as I scrubbed myself down. Mom bought us all new products, and this body wash was amazing. It made my skin feel so soft and smooth. I showered for twenty minutes, then stepped out, grabbing a new towel. I wrapped it around my waist, then used another towel to take care of my hair. Having long hair might be a pain, but I wasn’t going to cut it. I know it caused me a great deal of unwanted attention, but hoods were an option at Duncan High.

I made sure it was fully dry before stepping back into the room.

My room.

Well, at least for a while anyway.

I found some fresh clothes in one of my boxes. I attempted to unpack it last night after the moving truck arrived, but I kept getting sidetracked. Besides, it's not like I had much room for clothes. Most of Mom’s old stuff was still in her drawers. When I told Grandma about it, she apologized. Mom also agreed she’d pack them away and store them in the attic with everything else. Of course mentioning the attic over dinner last night hadn’t sat well with Allie. She got pissed off and tried to convince me to swap rooms with her. Grandma reminded her that she was adamant that the “larger” room was to be hers and this was not open for debate any longer. She also winked at me when she did so.

Smirking at the thought of Allie’s temper tantrum, I finished getting dressed.

It wasn’t until I got my shoes on that I realized something was wrong with my pants. Sighing, I realized they were Allie’s. This wasn’t the first time. Though my sister was a couple of inches taller, she had short legs. Her body was all torso, which always pissed her off. Because of this reason though, we pretty much could fit into each other’s pants. Well, not that she ever made that mistake, but I did. All the time. It was a pretty easy mistake to do. We both liked straight-legged skinny jeans. Allie could usually tell mine from hers because she only wore designer labels. Me, I generally just wore whatever Mom bought me and left on my bed to put away. Thus why I never even bothered to look at the jeans.

I shrugged.

I already had my sneakers on, it was too late to change now.

Besides, Allie’s jeans were always more comfortable than mine.

I left the room, pulling my hair into a ponytail with a new hair thing. At the bottom of the stairs, I made a quick turn down the hall and found my mother and grandmother sitting at the kitchen table. Grandma’s kitchen was large; it had a great big bay window that let in loads of sun that matched well with its bright color scheme. All the appliances were new and shiny and the countertops looked brand-new, probably refinished in the last year or so. Grandma once told me she didn’t like to stand on tradition much. If something started to look out of date, she made sure to update it as quickly as possible. It's the reason why the house had gone through at least two renovations since she and Grandpa moved in here. My Great-Grandmother Ruth---Grandma’s mom---had done a fair share of updating too.

“Morning,” I said, trying to sound more chipper than I felt.

I was still not fully awake, even after the shower.

Mom and Grandma were nursing cups of coffee.

“You young things these days, all this internet and video games, it's no wonder you don’t get up before noon.”

“Oh, Maddie doesn’t play those games, Mom,” said my mother with a proud smile.

Grandma raised an eyebrow.

“It’s true,” I said, taking some milk out of the fridge.

I poured myself a glass, fixed myself a plate of breakfast and found an empty seat.

By habit, I pulled my legs underneath in the chair.

Mom playfully flipped my ponytail. “Don’t you usually wear it lower than that?”

Lower?

I reached up and touched it and shrugged. Apparently in my grogginess, I pulled my hair high on my head. More like a cheerleader than a rock star. I think I might have done it subconsciously. Yesterday, after lunch and getting myself sorted a a bit, I spent some time exploring Mom’s room. I noticed that in a lot of her pictures she wore her hair just like this. I did it without thinking.

“Well, I think it’s adorable,” said Grandma. “Just like his Mom.”

“Yes, something that every boy likes to hear,” said my mother, not happy with Grandma’s attempt at a compliment.

“I don’t mind,” I said quickly, trying to cut off the argument before it started.

Thankfully, we were interrupted by some commotion and the Morning Zombie came stumbling into the kitchen. She was groaning and everything. I watched as my sister barely registered us as she stumbled over to the counter and got some food. Allie was never a morning person and this morning was no different. She clearly decided food was more important than showering. Her hair was a mess, she was still wearing her typical shirt and short-shorts bed combo and I couldn’t remember the last time I saw her without makeup.

“Morning sweetie,” Grandma said, trying to engage her.

Allie said nothing as she dropped into a chair next to me.

“It’s no use Mom, Allison isn’t going to respond until she’s awake.”

Grandma raised an eyebrow. “She’s not awake now?”

“No,” Mom and I said at the same time.

It took my sister a bit, but eventually she acknowledged. Strangely, I all but predicted the first words out of her mouth:

“Are those my pants?”

I shrugged.

Mom looked and sighed. “Maddie, why didn’t you say anything?”

I shrugged again. “Pants are pants. Does it really matter?”

“Yes!” snapped my sister.

She grumbled through the rest of our morning meal, glaring at me whenever she could. I did my best to ignore the stares, not just from her either. Mom was giving me a strange one this morning. I knew what she was thinking because we’d been here before. Mom was concerned for me. She wasn’t a bigot, just a concerned parent. She was afraid for me. She was afraid of how people reacted when they saw me dressed the way I wasand looking the way I did. I don’t think Mom really grasped the situation though. The boys didn’t bully me. I tried to explain that to her. When I told her they asked me out all the time instead, I think she got concerned even more.

I knew that’s exactly what she was thinking about now.

I didn’t look like her son.

Especially this morning.

“You want me to change?” I finally asked, tired of the staring.

It took her a moment to reply. “Only if that’s what you want.”

I knew what she was doing.

It was shrink talk.

As soon as puberty started a year or so ago, Mom thought it might be a good idea for me to see a therapist. She tried to make it sound like it was no big deal, but it was. It wasn’t for me either. Sure, she tried to say it was for me to help me deal with things, but it was really for her benefit. It didn’t help that she sent me there under false pretenses too. She said she was concerned about my lack of social life. She was afraid I was depressed and wanted someone to help me work through my issues. In truth, what she was really afraid of is if I was depressed for other reasons. Mom thought she was being subtle about it but I knew what she really wanted to know. She thought I might be gay and was trying to go about asking in her own kind of way.

The therapist caught onto it really quick.

We had two sessions but after that all he wanted to do was speak to my mother.

It was clear that Mom needed to work through her issues more than I needed to work through mine.

It was also clear she needed more sessions.

“It’s fine, Mom. Like I said, clothes are just clothes. I’m not trying to make a statement. They were the first pants I picked up. I didn’t notice they were Allie’s until I had my shoes on...”

“Well, I for one can barely tell the difference,” interjected Grandma, coming to my defense. “All you kids these days wear your things so tight, it's a wonder that more boys don’t wear their sister’s pants.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Grandma.”

Mom and Allie sighed together.

“Well, you’re washing them after,” snapped my sister.

I shrugged.

I ended up washing most of her clothes anyway.

And so, the tone of the room shifted. The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. I wanted to say something, but when my mother and sister got like this, there was nothing I could do. Dad could always diffuse the situation; he was good at that kind of thing. He tended to reign in Mom and keep Allie from being such a bitch too. Sure, Dad wasn’t any happier about the way I looked, and sometimes accidentally dressed, but he didn’t make comments about it either. He respected me. He told me so a number of times. It was a strange thing with Dad. Sure, he wanted me to be his son and do father-and-son things with him, but he also told me if I wanted something else, then that was fine too. All that he ultimately cared about was that I was happy.

Grandma finally decided to end it.

“Well then,” she said, deciding a change of subject might be better. “What do you kids plan on doing today?”

I shrugged. “I have some more unpacking to do.”

“I was thinking about heading to the mall,” said my sister.

Of course she was.

“Now that sounds like a fantastic idea,” said Grandma cheerfully. “You don’t want to go too, Madison?”

I scoffed. “Not really my thing.”

It wasn’t either.

“Well, there are other things in town besides the mall you know, like the skating rink.”

Skating rink. I didn’t realize they still had one of those.

“I don’t skate anymore.”

Grandma frowned before shooting a glance at my mother.

Mom sighed. “The kids used to bully him...”

It took Grandma a moment before she responded again. “Well how about the library then?”

I perked up at that.

She smiled. “I thought that might grab your interest.”

Even Mom got in on it. “That works out well, too. I need to head to the office. It’s right near the library. I can drop Allie off at the mall, then leave Madison at the library, we can meet back up at the mall for lunch later. How does that sound?”

Allie scoffed. “Lame actually. I was hoping to take the car.”

Mom shook her head. “Sorry sweetie, I need it to run errands all morning.”

Grandma tried to help. “You could use your grandfather’s old pick up, that is, if you can drive stick?”

I laughed. “She can’t.”

Allie glared at me.

Dad tried to teach her to drive stick once with his truck, it was a disaster.

“Well then, it looks like I’m your chauffeur for the day. Take it or leave it?”

Allie scoffed and crossed her arms. “Fine.”

“Good,” Mom said with a smile. “We’ll leave as soon as we’re done here.”

The drive from the farm to the city took only fifteen minutes or so, especially without any traffic. The old country road we drove on was framed by trees on one side and grazing land on the other. I don’t think I’d ever seen that many cows in one spot before. Well, at least not for a long time. The only thing I didn’t like was the smell, especially since my sister insisted we drive with her window open. The fact that it was forty degrees outside and snowing didn’t bother her in the slightest. Me, I was in the back seat shivering. It was going to take me some time to get used to this weather.

“Weren’t you the one complaining about the cold, yesterday?”

She ignored me of course.

Thankfully the window wasn’t open for long.

Carson Galleria wasn’t exactly in Duncan, but just outside of it. According to Uncle Frank, it finished last year. Built on some of the farmland that Charlie’s father acquired. Much like the development we would eventually move into. Mr. Carson had the right idea, I guess. As much as I didn’t care for Uncle Frank, he made a lot of sense. The town did seem to be stuck in the past, and breathing new life back into it wasn’t a bad thing. I think the problem that my grandfather and other landowners had with it, was that Mr. Carson was buying up all the land. Land that had been in their families for centuries. He was bulldozing history and replacing it with large steel and glass structures that looked pretty but took away what made Duncan so great in the first place.

I looked out the window at the mall.

It was large and looked impressive. There were a lot of cars in the parking lot too.

The place was thriving.

I could see how my grandfather had been fighting a losing battle.

Mom didn’t bother pulling into a parking spot, instead dropping Allie off out front.

“Your brother and I will be back here by no later than two, meet us in the food court.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said my sister, waving us off.

Mom sighed as we watched her rush inside. “Sometimes I wonder about that girl.”

“Can I get into the front seat now?”

I didn’t wait for Mom to say yes before hopping out of the back and running around to the passenger seat. As soon as I got in, I rolled up the window.

Allie was crazy.

Mom turned the SUV around and drove us back to the city.

It didn’t take very long.

Like I mentioned before, Duncan wasn’t much of a city; if you could even call it that. Most anything of importance branched off from a main street which was central to the town. There were a few parks, a couple of churches and a lot of small, self-owned businesses. Most of those were, sadly, closed or going out of business thanks to the mall. It was sad to drive down the street and see all those signs. I tried to piece together this version of Duncan with the one from my memory, and it was hard. The only things that were the same to me were the larger buildings like the town hall, the library, and of course, the ice rink. Even that looked newer. Grandma told us last night it had recently had a remodel. The old building had been torn down, replaced with another large steel and glass structure, the central point of which was the large dome.

It was impressive to look at, especially in the center of town.

There were a lot of cars there too, which made me think it was probably the big teen hang out spot.

A small part of me was happy about that.

Another part of me was anxious too.

“So you want to go straight to the library or...” Mom asked, seeing where I was looking.

I knew what she was trying to do.

I’ll admit, I was very tempted.

I bit my lip.

On one hand, the library was my safe place. It was something Dr. Jones and I talked about in our last session. He wasn’t the least bit concerned that I wasn’t a social person. He said there were a lot of kids my age that had trouble making friends. He also told me to take my time and find a place where I could be safe. I was safe in my books. Back home, it was easy to go to the library and hide. Especially because Phoenix was a big city, definitely a lot bigger than Duncan. Before Dad died though, I made him a promise. I told him I would try to be more social and active. He said he didn’t want me to waste my life hiding away and not trying new things. He wasn’t trying to be cruel when he said it either.

It took me a while to understand though.

He didn’t want life to pass me by.

“I think,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I think I want to walk around for a bit if that’s ok.”

Ok, so small steps.

I didn’t retreat to the library right away, but I didn’t go running into the rink either. I wanted to work my way up to that. After all, the last time I stepped into an ice rink was before Dad got sick. I’m not sure if I was ready for that right away.

Baby steps.

“I think that sounds like a really good idea. A lot about this place has changed after all.”

Mom pulled the car up to the curb in front of a diner.

“You remember where Grandpa’s office is?”

“Around the corner, right?”

Mom smiled, she moved to ruffle my hair but stopped at the last minute. It was a shame really because I used to like it when Dad did that. An awkward silence quickly followed. Mom and I were in a strange place right now. She was convinced that I was the kind of kid who didn’t want to be seen with his mother in public, and who wanted to avoid public displays of parental affection. She actually had me confused with my sister. I wanted Mom to hug me, I wanted her to tell me she loved me. I wanted to feel like her son again, the one who she used to do all of these things with. Ever since going to Dr. Jones though, Mom stopped being that type of person. I think she blamed herself for what she thought was wrong with me.

It was stupid but I had no way to convince her otherwise.

She was just going to have to find that out on her own.

I gave her a weak smile. “I’ll meet you back here before two, right?”

Mom gave me a sad smile of her own. “Sure, honey. Have a good time.”

It was clear she wanted to hug me, and I wanted her to.

In the end though, I got out of the vehicle without either of us making the attempt.

A moment later, she drove away.

I sighed.

Was it ever going to be the same again?

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. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF

Author's Note: I'm not going to lie, I originally wasn't going to post this. My mind has shifted so much in writing this story, I'm still not sure about it. I had a plan, didn't like it. I came up with a new plan, didn't like that one either. This story is like bumbling in the dark for me. Honestly, I'm not sure where its going. There is one more written chapter at this. I'd like to thank my two awesome proof readers/editors for fixing my mess.

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4.

I wandered aimlessly about the town for about an hour, doing nothing more than window shopping. Well, looking into the windows of what stores were still around. It was a lot worse than I thought. Many of the old places I remembered had “closed” signs on their doors and were empty on the inside. It was a depressing sight. The town really was starting to disappear. Those places that were still there were fighting to stay around. Most of them were restaurants. I’d made a few circuits up and down Main Street. Of the forty or so shop-fronts I passed, nine were still open. Out of those nine, four were places to eat. Of the remaining five, one was a hardware store, another was a barbershop, one sold musical instruments and one was a used clothing shop. The last shop wasn’t really a shop at all, it was a place where people could recycle bottles and cans.

All in all, very sad indeed.

On my third pass, I decided I needed something to drink.

I made my way back to Sally’s Diner.

It was one of the few places I remembered going to as a kid. Stepping through the door, a little bell dinged. It was just like I remembered. In fact, the whole place reeked of nearly-forgotten memories. Nothing about it had changed at all. It still had that vintage 1950s vibe with all its vinyl seats and kitsch décor. There was even a jukebox playing rockabilly tunes. On the wall were old black and white photos of the era, framed over each booth. I smiled. Then took a deep sniff of the food, it smelled amazing. It made my mouth water as I walked over to the counter. Slipping onto one of the stools, my feet barely touched the floor.

Yep, exactly how I remembered it.

A moment later, an older woman in a vintage diner uniform came up to me.

“What can I get you, sweetie?”

To say I was surprised was an understatement. I remembered Old Sally from when I was a kid. She was an old lady back then. Not to be rude but she had to be ancient by now. The strange thing is, besides a few more lines on her face, she looked pretty much the same.

I looked behind her at the painted menu above me. Everything was the same.

Though I did notice a new addition.

“Can I get a cherry slushie, please?”

She smiled and wandered off to the new machine in the corner.

I guess even old places like this had to change with the times. While she was doing that, I took a look around more. The place was all but empty, which brought a frown to my face. I guess like most places around here, the mall was taking its devastating toll. Before, when Frank was talking about how Grandpa had been fighting all the new, I never really understood until now. My grandfather was trying to save places like this and keep the town’s traditions alive. Seeing all those empty shops, I think I finally understood. It wasn’t just about the farmland here. It was about preserving a way of life. A way that was slowly being consumed by greed and laziness.

Sally finally brought me my slushie.

I took a sip; it was good.

“Thanks,” I said, pulling out a couple of bills.

“Nope, it's on the house,” she said with a smile before wandering off.

Wait, what?

“Well, we can’t exactly be charging little Maddie DuBois, now can we?” said a gruff and very familiar voice.

I snapped around, seeing a large barrel-chested man standing there.

I almost squealed in excitement. Even more so that he recognized or even remembered me.

“Uncle Billy!”

I jumped off the booth and hugged him.

Billy was Sally’s husband, the two of them owned and ran this place together. He wasn’t really my uncle but he was Grandpa’s best friend. This diner of theirs was one of the oldest businesses in town. Their 1950s throwback décor actually started out in the 1950s, first owned by Billy’s father. Much of the diner had remained the same; those photos were proof of that. I remember Billy once telling my Dad that he didn’t plan on changing a thing. He was a traditionalist like Grandpa. Dad told me later that it was noble but futile too. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t fight time.

Personally, I think Billy and Sally were doing a bang-up job at it.

For a couple close to 80, they were still keeping things going.

I finally let go, still smiling though.

Billy held me at arm’s length, smiling too. “Well, let me take a look at you, kid.”

I saw the man struggle for some kind of compliment, something other than the usual. In the end, he came up short.

“It's ok, Uncle Billy, we all knew I wasn’t going to take after my Dad,” I said with a laugh.

He frowned. “I was sorry to hear about your old man. He was a good one".

He gave me another hug; it was a lot more comforting than the last.

Sally came out of the kitchen and saw the hug. She gave both of us a strange look.

“What’s this now?” she asked, eyeing her husband suspiciously.

“This is Madison DuBois,” said Billy as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Sally gasped, then came rushing around the counter. She pulled me into her own hug, just as comforting as her husband’s. When she finally let go, there were actual tears in her eyes.“I thought there was something awfully familiar about you. You look just like your Mom when she was your age.”

“Sally, I’m not sure a boy wants to hear that.”

I waved it off. “Trust me, I’ve heard it many times before.”

The old couple laughed.

“Are you visiting long this time?” asked Sally as she started to wipe down the counter.

“You can say that. We moved back. Mom is taking over Grandpa’s practice.”

Sally raised an eyebrow; Billy smiled knowingly.

“Good for her. I always knew she had a good head on her shoulders. Maybe things will finally start to change around here...”

Sally huffed. “You leave that poor woman alone, William Turner.”

He raised his hands in defeat. “I wasn’t planning on pestering her with the town’s problems. I can’t say the same for the others though. It won’t be long before everyone else realizes there’s another Mitchell on the case...”

Grandpa had been well-loved. There was only one law firm in town and most of the locals were clients. When he passed away last year, there was a hole in the community. His partner did his best to fill said hole, but most people weren’t willing to trust their business with a non-Mitchell. It took Grandpa years to earn their respect and encouragement. According to Grandma, people weren’t too keen that an outsider came in and swept Greta Madison out from under them. Grandma had been a prize to be won, and Grandpa did it. Over time they learned to trust and respect Grandpa, but it wasn’t an easy battle for him. Thankfully, Uncle Billy had been there to help him win those fights.

“Is it really that bad?” I asked, waving about.

The old couple looked at one another, then Billy let out a heavy sigh. “It's not good, that’s for sure. Jack Carson is an ambitious one, just like his father.”

Sally huffed. “It's a shame he wasn’t the one who died in that horrible accident...”

“Sally, hush, that’s horrible.”

She shrugged. “Just saying. His brother was such a kind man, we lost a good soul. I know for certain he wouldn’t have cut up this town like his damn fool of a brother.”

“Hush now, woman!”

“You know you’re thinking the same.”

Thankfully, the rest of the conversation didn’t stay on dismal things. The couple shifted gears, wanting to know all about our life in Phoenix. I spent the next thirty minutes telling them everything, up to and including Dad’s battle with cancer. I got a couple more hugs. I think Sally was a bit upset when I told them I stopped skating. She told me it was a shame because I had a real talent. I waved it off for what it was. In the end, I finally finished off my slushie and bid them good-bye. Talking to them made me realize that I really did want to take a true trip down memory lane.

“Well, I think I want to check the ice rink next.”

Sally smiled. “Getting that itch again, huh?”

“I made a promise.”

She smiled and gave me another hug. “Well, don’t be a stranger, hon.”

“I promise I won’t.”

“Oh and tell that mother of yours to stop by and see us sometime,” said Uncle Billy as I started for the door.

I heard Sally start to scold him as the door shut behind me.

I chuckled, then tossed my empty slushie cup into a trash can.

Duncan Arena wasn’t the largest building in town, but it was pretty close. Not that that was saying much, especially compared to other places. Walking through the glass entrance, I was hit with nostalgia again. The large forum/lobby area brought back fond memories. Before moving, my family spent a lot of time here. I couldn’t help but think of better times. Dad was still playing hockey and was healthy, Mom was part-time teaching classes, and Allie wasn’t a bitch. I was even happy too. This was, after all, the place where I found my passion for skating.

Smiling, I walked past the ticket booth and posters.

The same advertisements graced the walls, updated for the times of course.

There was no one at the booth right now, and the large double doors leading into the rink itself were wide open. I knew from experience that that meant there was no public skate right now. It also meant there was probably some kind of practice going on. I tried to be quiet as I slipped inside. I sighed as soon as I caught sight of the ice again, and the memories came flooding back. It actually brought tears to my eyes to see it all again. Even more so when I realized there was a team on the ice, running drills. I recognized the blue and silver of their practice uniforms. They must have been from the school. I absently found myself wandering over to a spot I liked to sit and watch as a kid.

I might not have been a great hockey player like my Dad, but that didn’t mean I hated the sport. I just didn’t want to play it. The thing is, I knew how to play. It was something hard not to pick up when your father is a professional hockey player. I think that angered Dad more than anything. He spent years trying to show my sister and I how to play his game. We learned and learned well, but when it came time to actually putting what we learned to practice, we both bowed out. My sister didn’t want the hassle, and me, well, I just wasn’t competitive enough. Plus, I didn’t like the idea of putting on skates and all that gear. I saw my father slammed about enough times that it scared me a bit too.

Hockey was a rough game, and I wanted no part in it.

Watching the team now, I could see they had some talent.

They moved on from their drills and were running a scrimmage. The coach had split the team into two, one was blue, one was silver. Each of their practice jerseys had crude numbers on them. I found myself watching Number 34---Dad’s old number. Whoever the kid was, he was really good. He was fast and light on his skates, weaving in and out. He was an impressive puck handler too but not overly greedy. He was the type of player that most coaches would dream of having. The other players on the opposite team were having trouble keeping up too, which made it all the more fun to watch.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to be in here, it's a closed practice.”

Shit, I was caught.

Snapping around, I sought the source of the interruption.

Standing at the end of my bleacher was a tall redhead, about my age. He was wearing a Duncan High Hockey wind blazer and workout pants. He was holding a clipboard in one hand and his other was in a brace. Looks like he broke his wrist, probably the reason he wasn’t on the ice right now. There was something oddly familiar about this kid too.

Standing up, I quickly apologized.

The last thing I needed was to get banned from the rink.

I started to make a mad dash for the opposite end of my bleacher when…

“Maddie?”

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Why did this guy know my name?

Snapping around, I saw him start to approach me with a smile.

It was as he got closer, that I was finally able to put a name to the familiar face.

“Luke?”

The guy smiled big.

Holy crap, it was Luke. Wow. I hadn’t seen him in years. I never actually thought I’d see him in Duncan of all places either. Luke’s Dad and mine used to play for the same team back in the day. We used to sit next to one another a lot during the games. We weren’t “friends” in the normal sense because we didn’t hang out on a regular basis - he went to a different school - but we were buds I guess. He changed a lot in the last eight years too. The Luke I remember was a little on the pudgy side with a lot of freckles and glasses. The Luke before me was anything but fat, and his glasses were gone.

“As I live and breathe, Madison DuBois in the house.”

I rolled my eyes. “Luke Malone.”

I sat back down, he did the same.

“How the hell are you?”

“Getting busted apparently?”

He laughed. “I think for you, I’ll make an exception.”

“Good, I still have dirt on you.”

His smile vanished. “That’s not fair.”

I shrugged then laughed.

“So what brings you to this fine establishment?”

“I was going to ask you the same. The last I knew, you guys were still in Buffalo.”

He smirked. “Believe it or not, it was Dad.”

I was not expecting that.

“After Dad retired, your Dad called him out of the blue,” Luke continued. “Told him he had some connections here and he got Pop a job as the coach for the school team.”

I turned to the ice and squinted.

Wait, the coach was Luke’s Dad.

How had I missed that?

“I was sorry to hear about your Dad, we wanted to go to the funeral, but money is a bit tight right now.”

I shook my head. “It's ok, I’m sure Dad understood.”

The funeral was a bit of a madhouse anyway. There were so many people there, I’m sad to say I wouldn’t have noticed Luke even if I tried. Well over a hundred people shook my hand that day. All of them had really good things to say about Dad. I only remember some of it, most of the day was a blur. It was still numbing to think about. Dad was young, barely forty. You just can’t prepare for something like that until it happens. Even four months later...

“So what brings you back here?” asked my old friend after a slight silence.

“We moved back. Grandma is getting up there in age, and well, Mom wanted a change of scenery.”

He nodded. “I can understand that. I’m not sure I’d want...”

He trailed off, realizing it was probably a sore subject.

It might have only been a couple of months ago, but I was ok talking about it now.

Just as well, he changed topics.

“You going to try out for the team?”

I laughed. “Aren’t you guys in the middle of your season now?”

He shrugged and raised his hand. “They’re one man short; they could use the help.”

Luke knew I could play. We used to have little matches in the parking lot. A bunch of us Hockey kids participated. I was mediocre at best but Luke was really good if I remembered. He must have been if he was on the team now.

“So I don’t suppose your sister is here too?” he asked, looking around.

Oh, I forgot about that part.

Luke always had the biggest crush on Allie. She never really gave him the time of day though because, well, she was shallow even back then. I also remembered that he was her age. So given the way he looked now, Allie would definitely go for him. Not that I was going to tell him that. It wasn’t my job to play matchmaker. Besides I’m not sure I wanted to saddle Luke with her kind of responsibility. Allie was a handful. Most of her boyfriends in the past had dumped her because she was too demanding and VERY high maintenance. I pitied whatever fool she roped in.

I shook my head. “She went to the mall.”

He sighed, disappointed.

Poor guy. He still had a thing for her.

I was about to say something more about it when a whistle blew. I jumped. Turning, I saw the team start to make their way off the ice. One by one, the players started to disappear. Then Luke’s Dad looked our way and frowned. He started walking over, looking grumpy.

“This is a closed practice, Miss,” he said directly to me.

Luke laughed. “Dad, you serious? You know who this is?”

His Dad got closer and his eyes got big. He laughed. “Madison? I’m sorry, son, from back there, you looked like...”

I waved him off. “I get it all the time, sir.”

“Madison and his family have moved back to town,” interrupted Luke, hoping to change the subject.

His Dad looked at me and frowned. “I’m sorry to hear about your Dad, he was a good friend. We tried to make it to the funeral...”

“I already apologized for that, Dad.”

His Dad laughed. He continued to stare at me then chuckled with a shake of his head. “You look so much like your Mom with that hair, I thought you were one of Luke’s little fan girls. They like to sneak in here from time to time. I'm sorry again for the mistake.”

“So, Coach,” I said, hoping to get him distracted. “You’ve got a good team this year.”

He smiled. “Would be even better with a DuBois. You interested, son?”

I shook my head. “I haven’t played in years.”

He frowned. “It's a shame. I don’t suppose your sister...”

I laughed. “She’s aggressive enough, but not likely.”

“Well, it was worth a shot.” He laughed again.

Luke’s Dad looked from him to me and back again. “Well, with this one out of commission, we’re down a man. If you change your mind, let me know.”

“Sure thing, sir.”

His Dad wandered off, shaking his head.

Luke sighed. “Sorry about that, Dad usually has a one-track mind and it's usually ALL about hockey.”

I shrugged it off. “I know the feeling.”

Luke and I talked a bit more. He asked me about school and if I was going to Central, like there were any other options. He was graduating this year, just like Allie. He asked me a lot more questions about her, and I did my best. I tried to keep the conversation away from her, but it kept going back there. He was still really hung up on her. It was sad really. I’m just glad he didn’t ask me for her number. I didn’t want to deal with that. Thankfully, I was saved by the text. Specifically, it was Mom, wondering where I was.

I cursed after I got it.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

I laughed. “I told Mom I was going to be at the library.”

I texted her back quick.

AT ARENA.

Mom’s reply was not surprising.

REALLY? MEET ME OUT FRONT.

SURE.

I looked at Luke. “Mom’s here to pick me up.”

“I’ll walk with you,” he said, “I want to say Hi.”

He followed me out of the bleachers and to the front door. We waited outside on a bench for a few minutes before Mom pulled up in the SUV. When she saw Luke, she was confused for a few seconds. When he came walking over with me, Mom smiled big.

“Lucas Malone!”

“Hey, Mrs. DuBois. Long time no see.”

“Wow!” Mom said under her breath, I wasn’t sure if he heard it or not.

From his blush, it was clear that he did.

I rolled my eyes. “Well, it was nice seeing you, Luke,” I said, getting into the passenger seat.

“You too, bud. I’ll see you Monday at school?”

“Sure.”

Luke waved as we started to pull away.

Mom laughed. “Luke sure has changed.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I barely recognized him.”

Mom was nodding. “So, the arena?”

I shrugged. “I got nostalgic. Went to Sally’s then wandered over there.”

“Uh huh,” said Mom, and things went quiet for a second. “So what’s with the lipstick?”

Lipstick?

I dropped the mirror and groaned.

My lips were bright red. No wonder Luke and his Dad looked at me funny.

Shit.

“It's red slushie!”

I tried rubbing my lips, but of course it was no use.

Damn it!

Mom laughed.

“It's not funny!”

“It's a little funny, honey”

I groaned. Luke must think I’m some kind of freak. This is not the way I wanted to start my time here in Duncan.

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. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF

Author's Note: It suddenly occurred to me that I posted the last chapter of this story all the way back at the end of July, promising more but never delivering. I dragged my feet for a while about whether or not I was even going to bother posting this chapter. It was finished before I posted Ch.4 actually. The thing is, I didn't write anymore. I'll be honest, I don't plan too either. I know that's a dick thing to do but I've thought long and hard about this story and I know a lot of you really liked it. The truth is, I HATE it. Everything about writing it makes me sick to my stomach, so before it caused me anymore problems, I quit it. I just don't feel its fair knowing that there was another chapter out there that was never published.So here is the latest and probably last chapter of Wayward, enjoy.

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5.

I took a quick slug of the Jazz I was holding. It was a new energy drink, one of many that had been cropping up. It wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t great either. It was the type of morning jolt of caffeine I needed though. Sitting at the table across from me, Grandma was frowning. Allie gave me a look too, then took a sip from her mug of coffee. Mom was giving us both cross looks. She wasn’t thrilled with our morning drink habits. They were so routine now that there wasn’t much she could do to change them though. Before Dad got sick, things had been a lot different. For one, we never did this whole sit-down-at-a-table for breakfast thing,. Mom was usually up and out the door for work before either Allie or I got up. With Dad in the morning, he made us something light, like a bagel or a pop-tart. Then we usually ate going out the door.

Dad never cared what we drank either.

When Dad got sick, breakfast changed.

Mom started going to work later in the day and tried her hardest to make an effort. It wasn’t easy for any of us, but it was worse for her. She used to work a lot. The only time we saw her before Dad’s cancer was at dinner. Even then, it wasn’t much. Mom would usually order out, and trying to get us to sit together at a table was laughable. It was strange how cancer had destroyed our family but had also brought us together. After the first year, the year that Dad’s health declined for the worse, Mom took a leave of absence from work. When we weren’t in the hospital, Mom did her best to be there for us. It wasn’t easy, but eventually it started to feel semi-normal. After Dad was gone, Mom told us we needed to make some changes.

She officially quit her job, then started to make other arrangements.

That’s when cousin Maggie called her.

“That’s not a very healthy drink,” Grandma finally grumbled.

“I don’t like coffee,”. I said, after taking another sip.

“That’s not a healthy drink either,” said Grandma, shifting her focus to my sister.

Allie shrugged. “It wakes me up and keeps me going. I practically live at Starbucks these days.”

Grandma chuckled. “Not here you won’t, the nearest one is twenty miles away.”

I saw the color drain from my sister’s face.

She looked like she was going to die.

Whatever is she going to do?

Mom decided to butt in. “Do you both have everything you need?”

My sister groaned. “We’re not kids, Mom.”

Today was officially our first day back to school. As much as I was dreading it, I was happy too. It would be nice to have some normalcy again. Toward the end of Dad’s cancer battle, the school back home had excused Allie and me. They understood our need to spend what little time we had left with our father. It was the worst month of our lives. When Dad passed, and because it was so close to Winter Break, Mom decided to just keep us home. We didn’t know it at the time, but she was already making plans to move us out here. She felt it might be better for us to make a clean break, and start in a new place. Allie complained for days, but ultimately, it all fell on deaf ears. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out Mom’s reasoning for it all. Home wasn’t home without Dad. Mom lost her life partner and best friend. They met in college, were married a year after that, and stayed in Quebec for a year before Allison was born. I came along two years later, and they moved back to the US. According to Mom, Dad was her first true love. You could see how heartbreaking it was for her.

“What time did you say school started?” asked Grandma, interrupting my train of thought.

I looked up at the wall clocked and cursed.

“Madison!” Mom scolded me before seeing said clock and giving her own curse.

I raised an eyebrow, which she of course ignored.

“We have to go!”

“I’m not finished with my coffee!” whined my sister.

“We don’t have time.”

My sister huffed, leaving her mug on the table. She then stormed out of the kitchen, no doubt to beat me to the front seat. Like I cared. Instead of rushing out myself, I took the time to clear my plate and put it in the sink. Grandma smiled at me and ruffled my hair. Then I went into the living room, grabbed my backpack and followed my sister’s attempt to flee out the front door. Just as I predicted, Allie was already in the front seat. Shrugging, I went to the back. As soon as I had my seatbelt secure, I took out a book.

“Do you ever not read?”

I scoffed. “It's required.”

“Says who?”

“Duncan High’s website.”

She rolled her eyes, and I smirked.

Her loss.

The school assigned a book for the students to read over break. In fact, their website had a list of books in their Winter Readers Program, this just happened to be the only one I hadn’t read before. I think it was their attempt to make sure their students were keeping busy over the month or so they had off. I didn’t mind the reading, but Allie did everything she could to avoid work. It's probably why she was only a B student. I not only finished all the work our old school gave us after we were excused, but I was also already caught up on most of everything that I would be studying here in Duncan. I was glad to see that our old school was a bit ahead of them curriculum-wise, so most of it was a review for me. Just as well though, I didn’t want to finish out the rest of my Sophomore year behind my new peers.

“I think it's a smart idea,” said Mom, getting into the car.

“Of course you would,” scoffed my annoyed sister.

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be on par with everyone else.”

Mom and Allie argued for a bit, I tried to get lost in my book. Sadly, with their back and forth, I found that impossible. So instead, I took a look at the student handbook. It arrived in a large information packet on Saturday, but because of all the unpacking then and yesterday, I didn’t get a chance to look it over. Thumbing through it now, it all seemed to be pretty straightforward. I skimmed through the bits on Dress Code and Student Conduct; nothing about that was different, except they apparently allowed hats. The part about school security interested me though. Apparently, Duncan High was one of the first high schools in the country to implement facial recognition software as a security measure on top of the security they already had in place, i.e., security cameras and card readers.

The place was virtually Fort Knox.

I did remember reading something about that on the ride from Phoenix. It was big local news. A bunch of parents made a stink about the whole thing being unconstitutional last year when the software was installed. Personally, I thought it was a great idea. So did the state, because they ruled in favor of the school district. The district felt it was a better way to keep their students safe and secure, not just from domestic terrorism but also from child molesters and other unwanted sorts. All of that information was in a large database. It was all really cool. Most of the town hated the change. They called it another attempt of Carson’s. I didn’t really agree with the man buying up all the farms, but a lot of things he was trying to do for the town would only help it in the long run.

“He’s wearing my pants again, you know?” complained my sister.

The argument had reached a point where I was being dragged back in.

Most of it up to this point I ignored because my sister was one of those people who kept shifting her stance. If she couldn’t win one way, she’d change tactics mid-fight and try it another way.

Mom looked in the rear-view. “Maddie?”

I looked down at my pants. I couldn’t tell, so I shrugged.

Mom sighed.

I still couldn’t figure out why they were getting so worked up over it?

Maybe they were Allie’s pants, maybe they weren’t? Wearing them wasn’t going to make me less of a man.

I wasn’t about to let my sister’s smug look slide though.

“So are you mad that I’m wearing your pants, or are you mad that your ass is so flat that a boy can wear said pants?”

“Mom!”

Allie was whining, which meant I won.

“Madison!”

I shrugged again and went back to reading the handbook.

Oh look, I only had to take P.E. once before I graduated.

Win for me!

Thankfully, the argument died down after Allie ran out of “fuel” for it. That, and we pulled up to the school a few minutes later. The ride from the farm to the city took about ten minutes, and getting to the school from there was about two. We pulled up in front and Allie stormed out of the car as soon as we came to a stop. Mom sighed, clearly wanting to say more. That was Allie’s way though. She thought she was this great debater because she always “won”, but she only did so because she stormed away before the argument could finish. It was something that might have worked when we were kids, but it was starting to get old and childish now. Not that either Mom or I said anything to her; there was no point.

Mom turned to me. “You have everything?”

I opened my pack and took a look before returning the handbook. “I think so,” I said, zipping it up.

If I didn’t, they wouldn’t say anything.

It was the first day back from break after all.

We said our goodbyes, still no hug.

“I can pick you up after school?”

I shook my head. “Luke said he’d drop me off.”

He texted me last night. I think he was hoping to earn some brownie points with Allie. Fat chance that was ever happening. It was nice that he was at least including me though.

I left the vehicle after that. Mom pulled away with a tiny wave before I turned and looked at the large building before me. Duncan Central was actually three schools in one. The two story building in front of me was mainly for the high school and middle school. The elementary school was the smaller, one-story building next down, a chain link separating the two campuses. They were all the same sandy-colored brick, glass, and concrete. I read on the internet last night that the high school had some recent remodeling last summer. An anonymous donation allowed them to upgrade their auditorium, add some new music rooms, and get one of those digital signs out front. Frankly, all of it was new to me.

Leaving the roadside, I followed the path up to the front of the school. A balding man in a sharp charcoal suit stood at the doors, greeting everyone who entered. He smiled at each of the students as they passed by. When I got close, he gave me a look as if he’d never seen me before. That look was quickly followed by some kind of recognition.

“Madison DuBois, I presume?”

Way to be in the know.

“That’s right,” I said, surprised this man could tell I was new.

He chuckled. “I make it my business to know everyone in this school, new and old. I’m Mr. Chambers, Vice Principal here.”

He held out a hand, I suspect for me to shake. My father once told me it was important to make a good first impression. A lot of that came down to a strong handshake. Unfortunately for me, I never had one of those. I did my best though. If Mr. Chambers noticed or even cared after I was done shaking, he didn’t say a thing.

“Generally I would lead you to the office myself, but it's my job to meet and greet.”

I waved it off. “It's ok, sir.”

“Well, through these doors and straight down this main hall, on the right; you can’t miss it.”

“Thank you, sir,”I said, and excused myself and went inside.

The first thing I noticed when I stepped into the building was the large cartoon armadillo painted on the wall directly in front of me. It looked angry, waving a flag with the school colors of red and silver. I took my time on some research last night. I found the school newspaper quick enough, it was called The Armadillo Times. While there were a lot of fluff pieces in there, most of it was devoted to sports. Made a certain bit of sense. Their Winter season was filled with some good teams. The hockey team, for instance. From what I could tell, Luke was one of their star players before his injury. They also had decent indoor soccer teams and their basketball team made the playoffs last year.

Wandering away from the giant armored warrior on the wall, I made my way toward my destination. I passed rows of lockers, a couple of doors, and lots of kids my own age - most of whom ignored me. A couple looked my way, and one boy in particular looked longer than I wanted. I was used to that though. I was just hoping I’d get myself settled here a bit more before all of that started. Trying to keep my head down, I passed quickly into the main office.

“Can I help you, sweetie?” asked the little old lady behind the counter.

I smiled at her. “I’m new here. Madison DuBois, Mr. Chambers told me to come here.”

The old woman smiled and slowly typed away at the computer to her right. It took longer than I would have liked; she kept stopping and squinting at the screen. Finally, I heard the printer behind her. She slowly got out of her chair and retrieved the printouts, handing them to me gently.

“Usually we ask one of our Student Helpers to show new students around, but students vote on them at the beginning of the new semester, and that hasn’t happened yet.”

I smiled and nodded. “It’s ok. I have a map.”

I downloaded it onto my phone last night. For such a small school and district, they were surprisingly pretty tech-savvy with this kind of thing. They had an app and everything. I couldn’t help but wonder if some of that remodeling money went into other projects too.

I pulled out my phone, holding it in one hand and my schedule in the other. The schedule was pretty straigh=forward, no surprises. I got to sign up for classes last week. I was happy to see that I was able to get into every one that I wanted. All the core subjects were there, including lunch and study hall. There were even a couple of electives. The only one from that list I really wanted was Computers. I wasn’t that keen on them, but Mom said it was a smart idea to take a basic computer class so I would know what I was doing later in life. The school offered a wide variety of electives, and because I wasn’t taking PE this year, I was allowed three in total. The last two I left it up to the school to decide.

Hmmm.

Aerobics and Dance.

Interesting choices.

I suppose I could have turned around and complained. After all, most boys my age would HATE those types of classes. The thing was, I was always a limber person. Maybe that’s why I liked ice skating so much. I was always flexible, even now. I didn’t skate anymore, but that didn’t mean I failed to keep up with exercising. Being in both aerobics and dance might be just what I needed. Though I couldn’t help but wonder if they put me in those classes because they thought I was a girl?

Sighing, I took a step into the hall.

With my head down, I didn’t see where I was going and walked right into…

“Whoa, Maddie, dude.”

Luke apparently.

What were the odds?

“Sorry, wasn’t paying attention,” I said, looking up and waving my phone at him.

He laughed. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a typical teenage girl...”

I ignored the comment. “You’ve been here a while, right?”

“Couple of years.”

“You know where Mr. Clark’s classroom is?” I asked, waving my schedule toward his face.

Luke rolled his eyes and took it from me. He quickly scanned it then gave me a strange look.

“Dude, you pick these electives?”

“The school did,” I said with a shrug.

“These are chick classes.”

So I was right.

“You should go back there and get them to change these...”

“I don’t mind.”

We were walking down the hall side by side now, doing our best to not get smushed by the growing crowd. Well, I was doing my best, most of the people seemed to be avoiding him. One of the perks of being short, small, and insignificant I guess. I was getting a lot of stares though. I didn’t have to guess what they were about either. It was like this every first day of school for me. When we first moved from Duncan, my first day at my new school, a lot of kids whispered about the “new girl”. It took them a week to stop staring and even longer for me to convince them I wasn’t a girl. By the time I accomplished that task, it was summer. Then the same thing happened the next year and every year after. Even people who knew I was a boy forgot as soon as they saw me again.

It was frustrating at first, but I grew to ignore it.

After all, I was more or less happy with who I was.

Why should I let what others think bother me?

“This is Clark’s room. Homeroom and first period.”

I was lost in thought as we were walking, barely noticing he stopped at all.

There was no one in the classroom when I looked inside. It was a fairly average school room, there was one large desk up front and several student desks in rows. At first, I thought the room was empty, but I suddenly noticed a girl sitting in the far back corner, her head down, and her nose in a book. I couldn’t really get a good look at her, but she had dark hair and black framed glasses. I couldn’t help but smile. She seemed like the type of person I might be friends with.

“Most people don’t file into the first class of the day until right before the bell rings,” Luke explained as he shut the door, clearly ignoring the girl in there.

“What about her?” I asked, gesturing toward the closed door.

He shrugged. “C’mon, most of the normal people hang out in the Quad before classes.”

He gently steered me away from the classroom and back down the hall.

I couldn’t help but look back at the classroom as we moved further and further away.

Somehow I felt I belonged there too.

“Welcome to where the Cool Kids hang out.”

Luke opened his arms wide, I’m not sure if he expected me to gasp or clap or what. Instead, I looked past his outstretched arms to “The Quad”. It turned out to be nothing more than the large courtyard that separated the high school and the elementary school. There was a large, circular walkway with benches centered around a statue with some man in a suit I probably should have known something about. I didn’t. Beyond the circle and the fountain were picnic tables shaded under large maple trees. Once again, I’m not sure how he expected me to react, but I did my best to pretend.

“Not bad.” I lied.

He nudged my shoulder. “Hey, it may not be big city swanky school life like you’re used to, but it's the coolest thing we got.”

I wonder who told him about my school life before?

I decided to put a pin in it for later.

Instead, I allowed him to lead me over to a group of kids milling by a row of hedges. They were all wearing letterman jackets like him so I assumed they must be the jock crowd. Luke’s friends. It was clear what he was trying to do. I appreciated the effort, but I wasn’t really interested in being friends with people like that. Nothing against Luke, he was a cool guy. Me and jocks never mixed well. Before, it was because they used to bully me about looking like a “fag”, and then it was because they kept trying hitting on me because they thought I was a girl. Whenever I was able to convince one of them otherwise, there was a lot of laughing and strange looks. At least they never openly bullied me again.

“Guys,” said Luke, getting the attention of his friends who were laughing about something. “This is Madison, he’s an old childhood friend of mine. Our Dads used to play together back in the day.”

There was a round of introductions but I was never going to remember all their names. Luke found us a spot and as soon as my butt was on the pavement, I was bombarded with questions. They started innocent enough, but it quickly moved into a familiar territory. It didn’t matter that Luke introduced me as a “male” friend, using the proper pronouns. It NEVER worked. As soon as they started, it was impossible to convince them otherwise. I thought maybe I could avoid it this time, but it was already starting back up again and fast. It didn’t help that Luke thought I was cool and vouched for me.

I became the center of attention instantly.

Thankfully, I was saved by the bell.

As soon as it went off, everyone got up at once and started rushing toward the doors. I did my best to keep up, but I was nearly bowled over. Seeing me struggle, Luke made sure to help me into the hall. We parted shortly after. I promised him I’d meet him again at lunch. I made my way quickly back toward Mr. Clarke’s classroom, getting inside just before the bell. I found an empty seat near the door, in the front row. A moment later, a large, balding man in a sweater stomped into the room. I say stomped because there was no other way to truly describe his gait. He wasn’t angry; he had a nice smile, but he was large, not just in girth either. He had to be well over six feet.

“Good morning, class,” he said joyfully. “How was everyone’s break?”

There was a lot of grumbling.

The man looked like he wanted to say more about it but didn’t. Instead, he got right to business. This was technically Math class, but because it was the first class of the day, it also served as homeroom. Mr. Clarke started taking attendance. I only half paid attention because there were probably no names I was going to recognize. It was years ago when I was last here, and most of the kids I went to school with were people I wouldn’t remember even if they told me who they were.

Then…

“Charlie Carson.”

Wait, what.

I snapped around, I couldn’t help.

“Here.”

I found the source of the voice and my heart skipped a beat.

There was a boy in the back row, wearing one of those jackets like Luke. He had dirty blonde hair and a bored expression. I squinted a bit. He was older, but there was no mistaking it, this was my friend.

Charlie.

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. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF

Author's Note:I'm a liar. I didn't originally plan on finishing this story. I said so in my last chapter. I got to thinking about it the other day and quite a few people asked. So I sat down and just started writing. This is ultimately what came from that. The core idea of the story is still there but I plan on changing my original idea as well. Sorry its so short but I felt this was the best place to stop it :D.

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6.

Charlie.

I spent the whole class thinking about him, distracting me from the lesson at hand. I couldn’t even tell you what anything was about. For so long I wondered about this moment. What I might say if we ever met again. What he might say. Would he even remember me? Would I even have the courage to talk to him? I know it was such a silly and stupid thing, but at one time, he meant everything to me. I know it was only a short period of time that the two of us were friends, but it had a lasting effect. He was the first and only person who didn’t care what I looked like and just wanted to be my friend, no strings attached. He was also the first person who made me realize it was ok to be whoever I wanted to be.

When the bell finally rang, I got up the courage to approach him.

The rest of my classmates were trying to push toward the door. Me, I was moving toward the back of the room.

My heart was pounding a mile a minute.

I walked up to his desk. He was busy putting away his things.

I took a deep breath and…

“Hey.”

It was a simple greeting, but it got across so much.

He looked up at me. At first, he stared. He stared for a long time. For what seemed like an eternity he stared. Then he smiled. A weird feeling washed over me just then. I didn’t realize it until that moment, but I missed that smile. I longed for that smile. This was the smile of my best friend in the whole world. A smile that used to greet me every morning. A smile that I dreamed about every night. Yet now there was something different about it too. It was an older smile, dare I say a more confident smile. There was something else about it too, something that I couldn’t quite place.

“Hey yourself,” he said, finishing putting his stuff away and standing up. “I’m Charlie. You’re new, right?”

I almost let out a sigh.

So he didn’t recognize me.

Well of course he didn’t, it was years ago.

“Yes and no,” I said, absently brushing a stray bit of hair behind my ear. “I used to live here before...”

“No kidding,” he said, and I found myself walking beside him.

“Yeah,” I said, nervous. “We used to be friends...”

There, I said it.

The ball was now in his court.

Would it finally click or…

“No kidding? Well shit, now I feel like an idiot that I don’t remember.”

There it was.

He didn’t remember.

Damn.

“Well that’s ok,” I said, defeated. “It was a long time ago.”

I felt like someone punched me in the gut. All this time I was wondering how he might react if we met again, and the sad truth is, he didn’t know me. I’m not going to lie, it hurt. A lot. Someone who meant so much to me and he forgot me so easily. I was now an ant walking beside an elephant. The height difference was not lost on me. Puberty had been VERY kind to him. Much like how much Luke had changed since we were kids, Charlie was a man now. He had to be close to a foot taller than me, which was scary. Walking beside him, I could actually feel the draft his body was making. I almost shivered. Instead, I hid it behind adjusting my bag straps.

“So did you know me from basketball or…?”

Basketball.

Sure, of course he played basketball.

He was tall enough.

I shook my head. “We just hung out. It was only one summer, before I moved away. We moved back. We’re living with my grandmother. It's...”

I’m rambling and he’s staring.

We fell into an awkward silence after that. I continued to walk next to him down the crowded hall. People were staring. I barely noticed. Finally we stopped at another classroom.

“This is my stop,” he said with a half smile.

I nodded. “Sure.”

“Well, it was nice not remembering you,” he said with a chuckle then walked into the room.

There it was, my great reunion with Charlie.

It was a total bust.

I felt like such a spaz.

I stood by for a long time, watching the empty doorway of his classroom. I saw him sit in the back, turn and start talking to the girl next to him. They laughed at some shared joke, and I was forgotten. Sighing, I turned and headed down the hall. I was pretty bummed. I know it was a long time ago, but I was certain he would remember me if I reminded him. It was sad to think that he made more of an impact on me than I did him. Especially because we were so close. I suppose it explained why he cut contact with me. The thought of it stung pretty hard.

I think I was still numb.

Thankfully, the bell ringing broke me from my paralysis.

Shit.

I ran through the hall, looking for my next class. Thankfully for me, it was just around the corner. When I stumbled into the room, a few minutes late, all eyes were on me. I was so embarrassed. I quickly apologized before finding the nearest seat. As soon as I sat, I noticed one girl in particular staring at me. I couldn’t help but stare a bit myself. Her hair was cut short, I think they called it a pixie cut. It was semi-long in the front, and shaved on one side. That’s not what kept me staring though. Her hair was at least three different colors: mostly blue, but she had dark purple fringe and the buzzed portion was blonde maybe.

She gave me a slight smile and a nod.

Like she recognized me.

I was really confused.

As soon as class officially started, I was too focused to stare anymore.

It wasn’t until class ended that…

“Hey,” said the girl as she stood at my desk.

I was still as confused as ever.

“Hey yourself,” I said, trying to be friendly.

“You’re Madison, right?”

I nodded, not sure how this girl knew my name.

I looked her up and down. I definitely didn’t recognize her from my early days here. Which of course wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. I didn’t really know many kids back then, besides Charlie. Even that was only for a summer. The kids at school when I was younger all but ignored me. This girl definitely didn’t look like the type I would have hung out with back then. She wore skinny jeans with distressed knees, her Converses were scuffed and dirty and there were band-aids on a couple of her fingers. The thing that distanced her from me even more was her sweatshirt. It bore the school mascot on the front of it. She was a jock. I suppose that explained the fingers.

“Luke introduced you this morning,” she said, finally helping me with my blank stare.

Wait, yeah, she was there.

She was in the back, sitting quietly with a book.

The reason I didn’t recognize her was because she was wearing the hood of her hoodie up.

Looking closer at her sweatshirt, I realized I’d actually met her way before that.

There was a tiny number 34 on her left breast side.

The kid from the rink.

He was actually a she.

“I’m Trix, by the way, well Beatrix, but that name makes me sound like I’m from the 1600s or something.”

She laughed.

I found myself walking out of the room with her.

“I guess you can call me Maddie then.”

I’m not sure why I told her that. I promised myself last night that I was going to introduce myself to new people as “Mark”.

“You were at the rink yesterday, right?”

“Guilty as charged.”

She giggled. It was weird because she didn’t look like the type to giggle. “Luke said you’re really good?”

I shrugged. “Out of practice, I’m afraid. I stopped caring about hockey a long time ago.”

“Bummer, with Luke out, we could really use someone else.”

She tried to convince me for about a minute more, but when she realized that she was failing, she switched gears to talk about the team itself. She kept the conversation going until our next class. Apparently we shared this one too. Our discussion ended as soon as the bell rang to start and picked up right after the bell rang to end. Trix liked to talk, which was fine by me because I was a quiet person.

“You have lunch next, right?”

We were standing in a part of the hallway that opened up into a foyer. I quickly pulled out my schedule and confirmed her question with a “Yep”.

She kept the conversation going the whole walk to the cafeteria and continued to keep it going while we were in the lunch line. The food looked edible, but that wasn’t saying much. I smiled and politely thanked the woman, who replied with a grunt. Hey, you can’t please everyone. Walking from the line into the main cafeteria proper, I was surprised it was so big and that there were so many kids there. My old school had lunch in shifts. According to Trix, every grade ate at the same time. What surprised me even more though was that this place had two floors.

“The popular kids sit up there,” she said, pointing to the second floor. “Us plebs are down here.”

We started meandering our way through the throngs of scattered tables and people.

I looked up toward the second floor. I quickly caught sight of my sister, no big surprise there. But I saw Luke too. Then I saw Charlie. Of course he was one of the popular ones. I stared at him for a few moments, until Trix waved a hand in front of my face.

“Earth to Maddie, you still there?”

I blinked. “Yeah sorry, I know him...”

Trix looked up and scoffed. “Charlie Carson, who doesn’t?”

The way she said his name, there was a lot of disdain.

That definitely didn’t sound like the Charlie I once knew.

“He was my friend,” I said, trying to explain.

“Well, your friend is one of the most popular guys in school. He’s a bit of a man about campus, and trust me, he doesn’t let anyone forget it.”

That definitely didn’t sound like the Charlie I knew.

I continued to stare up at Charlie for a few more seconds. He was sitting with a group of overly pretty people. There were several girls flocked around him. They were all laughing. I sighed. I guess he really was a different person?

“C’mon,” said Trix, nudging me with her shoulder. “I usually sit over here.”

She led me over to a table in one of the corners, near a large window. As I sat down, I noticed it looked out toward what I’m guessing was a soccer field. I stared out the window for about a minute before gathering my thoughts. I was curious about Charlie still. I couldn’t help myself. He’d been this enigma to me for years. I couldn’t help but always wonder why he stopped talking to me. Yet now that I was so close to him and the answers, I never felt farther away.

“Do you know Charlie well…?”

She shrugged, taking a bit of her sandwich. “As well as anyone else I suppose,” she said while she chewed. “He’s a basketball jock, I’m a hockey jock. We should run in the same circles, but it's...well...complicated.”

I was about to ask her how when we were interrupted by two trays slapping down on the table. The sound made me jump. Looking up, I noticed we were no longer alone. There was a boy and a girl our age attached to those trays. Their curly dark hair and tan complexions told me they were of Hispanic origin. The boy smiled at the sight of me, sizing me up with those green eyes of his. The girl looked shy and didn’t make eye contact with me.

“Fresh meat!” said the boy enthusiastically.

Here we go.

“Not interested, Carlos,” groaned Trix, clearly used to his antics.

“Hey, you don’t know that!” said the boy, turning his full attention to me. “I’m Carlos, and this wallflower next to me is my twin, Elena. If I’m not mistaken, you’re Madison, right?”

I ignored him completely. “Nice to meet you., I said, looking directly at his sister.

She finally looked up so our eyes met. They were green like her brother’s.

Wow, she was really cute.

Trix smirked. “See, what did I tell ya.”

If Carlos was disappointed, he didn’t show it. Instead, he pushed on without even blinking. “So, you’re new right? Where ya from? What do you think of our little dust ball of a town? You bored with it yet? You have any plans for this weekend by chance?”

Wow, he was fast and incorrigible .

I decided to answer all his questions in one go. “No, I’m not new. I’m from Phoenix but not originally, I grew up here actually. My family moved when I was eight and we just moved back.”

“Why would you ever do that?”

“My Dad died.”

“Open mouth, insert foot,” snapped Trix.

“Ouch, sorry,” said Carlos and probably meant it.

I sighed. “Thanks. It wasn’t easy, but I’m better now.”

“How does it feel to be back?” asked his sister, surprising me by how sultry her voice sounded.

“Weird. I had a friend I was hoping to reconnect with but he turned into someone I don’t recognize anymore.”

“Boy friend?”

“He’s a boy, yes, but we were too young to be anything other than friends.”

Trix laughed. “It's Charlie, Carlos.”

“Shit.”

The two girls laughed.

Carlos was visibly crushed but only for a few seconds.

“You’re not together though, you’re just friends,” he licked his lips. “So that means...”

I sighed and quickly interrupted him. “Sorry, I’m not interested in guys.”

Elena seemed surprised, Trix looked intrigued.

“Damn, why is it always the cute ones...”

I inwardly cursed.

There it was again. Looking at the three of them, it was clear they thought I was a girl too. I suspected Carlos thought it as soon as he saw me. Most guys did. I was surprised by Trix though. She made no indication she thought I was a girl. Then again, she never let on she thought I was a boy either. I didn’t want to keep up the charade though, I wanted to be honest. If that meant I was about to lose three potential friends, then so be it…

I chuckled. “I don’t like girls because I’m a lesbian, I like girls because I’m a boy.”

You could almost hear a pin drop.

All three of them stared.

Carlos looked dumbstruck. Elena blinked a few times then smiled.

Trix looked disappointed.

It took a few seconds before anyone said anything until:

“No shit.”

Trix.

I sighed. “Sorry...”

I started to get up, fighting back tears. She was fast. She stood and gently grabbed my wrists. She shook her head.

“We’re not mad, just surprised. You look so much like a girl, it's...”

I nodded. “I know. I can’t help it.”

I was tearing up, I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, hoping they didn’t notice. None of them said anything.

“So, are you trans...?” asked Elena.

The T question. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t heard that more than once too.

“Nope, just girly. Been like this forever. No idea why. We had plans to look into it and then Dad got sick. Suddenly none of us found it important.”.

We never really brought it up as a family again. I wanted answers though. I was just waiting for the right time to broach the subject with Mom again. After all, something like this wasn’t normal. There had to be some kind of answer, and I was hoping we could figure it out soon. I was getting really tired of all the confusion and anger.

“So you’re a dude?” asked Carlos slowly, finally finding his voice again.

It was clear by the look on his face he was a bit disgusted because only seconds ago, he'd been openly flirting with me.

“Yep, sorry.”

He was quiet again, squinted his eyes and blurted out: “You know you’re wearing chick jeans, right?”

Trix and Elena smacked him from both sides.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

The three of them started laughing too.

I sat back down, followed by Trix. It was the icebreaker we needed.

From there, Trix and Carlos took turns asking me questions. They were curious, and I wasn’t expecting that. Most people either thought I was lying or they wanted nothing to do with me. I’d never met anyone who actually still wanted to be my friend after the truth came out. It was a new experience for me. The whole time they asked questions, I couldn’t help but notice that Elena was quiet. Well, she’d only uttered a few words since meeting me, but she spent the whole time they talked pretending to stare at me without me noticing. Unfortunately for her, I was pretty astute when it came to people watching me. It was hard not to be. The thing is, there was no malice in her stares. It was almost as if she was trying to decide if I was telling the truth or not.

Again, she wasn’t the first person to think this.

She was the first one that didn’t ask questions about it though.

It was refreshing.

The bell finally rang, saving me from the “mini-interview”.

“So, any more questions?” I asked, finally glad to be free of it all.

I was standing up, leaving the table with my tray.

The others fell in line with me.

“Just one,” said Carlos with a nervous laugh. “You never said if you had plans this weekend or not?”

Trix and Elena smacked him again.

I laughed.

I came to this school hoping to reconnect with Charlie but never imagined making other friends in the process. It's funny how things worked out.

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. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF