Friday, September 20
My feet hadn't hit the curb at school when Madison cornered me like a hungry puppy. Madison's nice to me, but never THIS nice. "So, are you more like a Barbie or an American Girl?"
"Huh? What?" I said.
"Doll, Chris, or Christy, or whatever. Are you a Barbie Doll or an American Girl Doll?"
"Madison, my love, and I do love you, but have you been eating the wrong mushrooms? I told you to watch out for that shit..."
"Christy... can I call you that in public? Anyway, Brianne facetimed me last night and told me all about it. She tried to get the Emmas but apparently they were both on some kind of study restriction or maybe Emma Brunette was with Eric. I dunno. Anyway, apparently now you're our dress-up doll and we need to make you look like an actual girl, although, let's admit it, it's not going to be a challenge. I with a little makeup and a skirt, I could have you fooling your own mother by lunchtime."
"Mom already knows, and anyway, what the f are you doing taking a life-altering decision of mine, right in the middle of 9th grade I might add, the worst year of all of our lives, and reducing it to whether I'm wearing a skirt or not?"
"Yeah, you're right, you'd look better in a dress, not a skirt. My bad."
"MADISON!!!" I yelled and a bunch of sophomores near us looked up like I was the problem du jour. "This is not a joking matter. I really do not see myself growing up as a boy. Don't get me wrong, I LIKE boys, I just don't want to BE one!"
"OK, I'll be cool. I get it. I'm just... you're the first real live G-D Tranny I ever met in person, so I'm actually kinda excited."
"Well, Madison, volunteer doll dresser, let's get a few things straight up front. First, I'm still learning all of this myself, and all I know is when I'm in girl mode' I'm a lot more comfie in my skin than I am in boy mode'. Second, I'm learning that they don't like the word `tranny'. It's apparently like the N-word for them..... er... us. Third, no, I'm probably not the first one you've met. I'm learning that they're... we're... a lot more prevalent than you know, just most of them.... Us... do a better job of blending in. Remember the woman who used to cut our hair a couple of years ago in the shop down by the Safeway?"
"Her? What was her name... the one with the really long fingers. She was really nice, but built like a football player."
"Yeah. I'm betting she used to BE a football player. So anyway, you go run off to whatever you do at first period..."
"Speaking of period... will you be getting them?"
"Jeez, Madison... you are flunking biology, right?"
"Yeah... how did you know? Anyway, I'll see you at lunch. Try not to grow boobies until I get there."
"Biology, Madison... not that easy."
Sigh... so the day progressed as normal. I headed for Algebra (Madison is in "general math") and plopped down next to my problem-solving buddy, Brianne.
"What did you tell her????"
"What you told me. That Chris is about to blossom into full flower and all her glory as Christy, and it is our solemn duty as her friends and caregivers to carry her over the threshold into womanhood. Or something like that."
"Somehow, you took a huge life changing even of mine and reduced it to a choice between Barbie' and American Girl Doll'. Am I missing something?"
"Christy, you know how on some web sites they have ELI5' requests, for explain it like I'm a 5th grader? That's Madison. Up. Down. Black. White. She needs simple instructions. We're going to be taking care of her for a long time."
"Gotcha, Brianne, but let's stay focused. This is less about me picking prom dresses and more about me refocusing MY ENTIRE FUCKING LIFE away from being a boy to being a girl. You get it?"
At that point, Ms. Westbury looked up from her IPad and said, "Christy? Brianne? Are you having a problem?"
"No, Ma'am" we sang in unison.
"Well please keep your voices down. You're distracting the other students." Of course, she was ignoring the fact that she was distracting them w-a-a-a-a-y more than us, but that's kinda beside the point, right?
Anyway, we meandered thru classes, and then headed for our normal table at lunch. Any dreams I had of quietly enjoying my turkey-and-bacon wrap died an ugly death when the estrogen brigade descended on me. "Spill bitch" was Emma--red's way of saying `hi'.
"I'm doing OK, Emma. Thanks for asking. A bit stressed. Maybe going to go do something prurient and anti-social later today. How about you?"
Emma-Brunette, always the charmer, asked, "Are you still peeing in the boys room?"
"Ahhh... right to the point, E-B. Right to the point. How charming. Yes, as far as the school is concerned, I'm still a boy. I still pee standing up at a urinal, because, unless you've seen one, you wouldn't believe the condition of a toilet in the boys room. So yes, I still pee in the boys room. When I pee, which come to think of it, I haven't done since I got here today."
The conversation picked up a bit from its gutter-level beginning, but generally resembled a scene from Law and Order SVU. Does my Mom know? (Yes). Does the school know? (No). Am I on hormones yet? (A surprisingly intelligent question from Madison, and No). Do I dress as a girl at home? (Yes). Do I wear makeup out? (Yes, sometimes). How many people know (Right now about 8). Do I have a boyfriend (Huh? What the f-k does that have to do with anything, and NO).
Finally, Brianne hit the nail squarely on the head. "Are you going to the school dance next week as a boy or as a girl?"
"I dunno. I don't know. I do not know." I took a long pause, and thankfully, everyone read the room right. "This is all happening way too fast for me. Mom and my Aunt Lilly and her son Jason have been super good friends about all of this, and encouraging me and helping me with my wardrobe and I'm seeing a doctor and... shit... I dunno..."
There was a really, really, long pause, and finally Brianne spoke up and said, "Christy.... Can we all call you that now? Christy?" I nodded. "We're here for you. We're your friends. Maybe your best friends. You're not going to go thru this alone."
And Madison spoke up and said, "And if anyone gives you crap, I will personally kick their ass, girl or boy. Maybe particularly boy." And I believed her.
And I started to cry, and suddenly everyone was crying and Emma--red said, quit crying everyone. Christy's ruining MY makeup and SHE'S not even wearing any. It's not fair!"
And we all started laughing.
I finished school that day with a shit-ton load of homework for the weekend. Who gives homework on the weekend? My teachers are nazi's. My book bag already weights more than I do. I am truly not going to survive 9th grade.
Mom picked me up and said, "I got a call from Dr. Preston today. He's got your lab results, and said that on Monday, he wants you coming to his office in your preferred gender. If you are a girl, then he said he doesn't care if you have to change in a gas station rest room, he wants to see a girl in the examining room."
"Oh great. Just one more thing to think about." Then I told her about how my gaggle of friends now think of me as their pet project and the question about the school dance next week, and she just nodded.
"Maybe," she said, sorta thinking out loud, "we should take Ms. Weston into our confidence. What do you think?"
Like i said, nothing good ever comes from the headmistress's office. Nothing. But I could see that eventually, Ms. Weston was going to find out. I said, "OK. Maybe Monday morning we can tell her. You can tell her. I'm not sure I could handle it."
We had barely pulled away from the school when my phone buzzed from Brie (still labeled `Brie' in my contacts, in case she decides to change it again).
"Movie?"
"Dunno. W8 1"
"Mom, am I up for a movie with Brie?"
"What movie? Nothing with Jennifer Lawrence. You cry at Jennifer Lawrence movies."
"Mom, I LOVE Jennifer Lawrence. I want to BE Jennifer Lawrence. That's why there's a Katniss poster in my bedroom."
I texted, "Mom sez whut movie?"
"Tall Girl. You'll like it. Tell her it's a rom--com".
"When?"
"7:30. We can go to mall first."
"I'll ask. My Mom can drive us maybe."
"My parental units aren't home. Wear a skirt."
Oh s--t.
"Mom. Brie says it's a rom-com called Tall Girl. We can go to the mall first. You pick her up? Her Mom and Dad aren't home. She says I need to go in girl mode."
Mom caught her breath. "You haven't been out of the house yet dressed as a girl without me. Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Mom. I'll be safe."
"Tell you what. I'll go, too."
"MOM!!!!"
"I'll stay out of sight and you won't know I'm there. I have some shopping to do anyway.
I texted, "Mom sez OK. She's going to hang at mall. May sit in the back of theater. Pick u up... 5?"
"5. K."
Three-thirty until 5 went like nothing. I tried on a dozen different combinations of the few girl clothes I owned. I finally settled on a yellow little sundress and a pale grey t--shirt underneath. Brianne's about my height, so I wore flats and let Mom fuss about my makeup. Brianne is rapidly becoming a makeup hound, and so I needed to up my `Friday Night' game. Mom showed me a trick about blowing out my hair even when it was dry to give it more bounce. We left about 4:30 to handle the traffic from our house to Brie's.
Mom pulled up out front and I ran to the door. Brie must have been waiting for me at the door. She looked me over, up and down, shaking her head, and said, "Who are you, bitch? Where's my little gay friend Chris? Spit him the fuck out now or I will kick your ass!"
I couldn't help laughing and Mom probably thought I was crazy as she walked up to the front door. Brie just looked up and said, "Hi Ms. Dancer. I love what you've done with her. I don't think anyone can tell there used to be a boy buried in there."
Brie's standard non-school wardrobe was jean shorts in the summer, or jeans in the winter, and a t-shirt with her fav musician of the week (lately, Billie Eillish. Last week, Jack White. Go figure.). Tonite, to `blend in' with her orders I wear a skirt, she's wearing a plaid mini skater skirt and a surprisingly cute looking button up top with a Peter Pan collar. It's almost like she wants to go to Sunday School. Maybe she's trying to get some use out of those clothes before the outgrows them.
Brie locked up her house and we giggled running to the car. She grabbed the back seat and said, "Ms D, I haven't eaten. Maybe Chris... oh Gawd... I need to get used to Christy... Maybe Christy and I can grab sushi at the mall?"
Mom said, "That's a wonderful idea, Brianne. I know the place. I'll be right around the corner at Macy's trying on some clothes. Do either of you need some money?"
Brie said, "No, Ma'am. My parents are out of town and left me with some money for delivery stuff and grub-hub."
Mom thought for a minute. "You know, Brie, we have a spare bedroom and you are more than welcome to spend the weekend at our house. Would your mother mind?"
Brie had spent the night at my house before. Her parents knew I was basically harmless, and for that matter treated me like one of the girls. I wonder if they know how close to the truth they were.
Brie said, "I'll text Mom and see if she's cool with that." After a couple of minutes, she said, "I texted my Mom and she's fine with that, as long as I remember to mist her orchids. Can we swing back by my house on the way and I'll grab some things and be sure to mist the orchids?"
Mom said, "That's just great, Brie, and be sure to bring a bathing suit. We haven't closed the pool yet for the season, and I understand it's going to be warm this weekend."
"Yes, Ma'am," Brie said. That sounds huge."
We futzed around at the mall and Brie bought some really cute ear hoops, but I can't buy anything yet because I'm only a week into these studs. A couple of older boys tried flirting with us at the Sushi place, and we just died giggling. I think if Madison had been along, she would have flirted back and got us in a world of trouble, but no such danger with my protective angel, Brie. We went into Victoria's Secret and looked at bras, and I felt really like I was doing something dirty but Brianne shopped there like she was at a candy store. She even played around with a half-bra, and mockingly tried it on over her blouse and struck a pose and stuck out her tongue in a Kardashian look. If I'd laughed any harder, I'd pee myself. I looked at panties and remembered what we'd paid at Target. I know my Mom is pretty well off, but I'm starting to wonder just how much this transformation is going to cost me (her).
The movie was kind of a tear jerker. Tall Girl was about a high school girl who was unusually tall and got a lot of s--t for it. She aims for the tall boy (a Swedish exchange student) but in the end gets the short boy and lives happily ever after. The end. I cried.
Fun fact. The Dutch are the tallest people in the world, on average. Who knew.
Anyway, we ran by her place to spritz the flowers and grab some of her things. I never knew one girl could own so many pair of jeans. We were back at my house by 10:30 and Brie threw her things in the spare bedroom. We grabbed some diet cokes, changed into shorts and t-shirts, and headed for the basement. With some music on the sound system (again, Billie Eilish) to drown us out, Brie began her massive cross examination until the wee hours of the morning. A bucket of popcorn, countless diet cokes, and a raid on Mom's chocolate stash later, I hadn't really told her anymore than I already had. She was super excited that the girl-club was going to get an official (rather than honorary) member, and I really felt like I was becoming a REAL part of the sorority.
We grabbed some blankets from the closet and fell asleep with some meaningless crap on the TV.
(Note to self -- I actually didn't type this until Saturday morning, with a terrible Diet Coke headache. Is it possible to get a hangover from diet soda?)