“Why Rachel?” It’s the first question that pops in my mind. I don’t know why that’s the first place my mind went.

Rachel, as I should get used to calling her today, shrugs. “I said it was my name when they asked, I can’t exactly change it now.”

“Fair enough. Still though, why Rachel?” And what’s with the voice? Are my clothes magic?

“Well, you know. I was named Richard because it’s my dad’s middle name. And Rachel was my mom’s. So I just-” she chokes up, and sits down on her bed. I sit besides her, and this time she hugs me and starts sobbing. Afterwards, she’s dropped back to her normal speaking voice: “I just took her name without asking. Without even thinking about how it’d make dad feel. It’s disrespectful, I should-”

“It’s not.” I cut her spiraling off and hug her a bit tighter. “You’re not making fun of her, you’re just. I don’t know. Paying tribute, I guess?” I honestly don’t know. But what I do know is that if she’s this broken up about it, she's definitely taking it seriously. I just don’t know what that means. She’s been dead for longer then either of us remember and Rachel's never really been too sad about it, but maybe it’s a grief thing?

She loosens her grip on me and swallows, switching back to the subtly higher voice. “You think so?”

I have no clue. “Yes, absolutely.”

She hugs me tight again, then lets go. “Thanks. I’ve just been so worried, you know? I know I’m the one that didn’t want to come clean, but I still don’t like lying. I don’t know,” she drops back onto the bed, “maybe I shouldn’t go after all.”

“No way! You wanted to go so badly that you hatched this entire scheme, you can’t give up now. If it feels that wrong, you could just go in your own clothes after all.”

Rachel makes a disgusted noise. “Heck no. You’re right, I want to go. I’m just scared.” She sits back up, fidgeting with her hands in her lap. “What if people notice what I really am and they get angry?”

I pause. On one hand, that’s not going to happen. She looks so much like any other girl that I’ve had no difficulty mentally making the switch, even knowing the truth. On the other hand, she’s been bullied before. So have I, but at least mine never got physical. It only happened a few times before Brad intervened, putting a stop to that, but it still left a mark on her. I pull her into a sidehug. “If I thought that might happen, I wouldn’t let you go out. You trust me, right?” She nods. “Then trust me when I say that you’ll be fine.”

Rachel closes her eyes and sighs. “Yeah, I know. It’s just kind of scary. And maybe a little bit exciting?” I raise an eyebrow at that. “No, like, how often do people get a chance to see what it’s like for the ‘other side’ like this? Ooh, maybe I could use these experiences in my next story!”

She launches into an excited rant about possible story ideas, and I listen along for a bit before I remember we need to catch a bus if we want to be on time. I tell Rachel to fix her makeup while I run home to grab my stuff, and we can meet at the bus stop.

---

The walk back home felt colder then the walk from home had felt. It was probably a degree or two warmer in objective measurements, but this time not only was I aware that I’d forgotten my coat, but I also didn’t have anger heating me up from the inside that I did this morning. I wasn’t looking forward to a second confrontation with my mom, but I was distracted by thoughts of Rachel. She’d sure seemed to like my clothes, if her smiles were anything to go by. Then again, she’d frowned as much as she’d smiled, but maybe that was just because she was still nervous? That, and we’d talked about her mom, which is one of the surefire ways to get her in a funk.

What I was even less sure about was how I felt about this whole thing. On one hand, we were attempting to trick people into believing Rachel’s a real girl. On the other, we weren’t doing so for any reason I could actually tell was bad, so I’m not sure why it would be. Ricky, from what he’d said when I teased him about the idea, didn’t spy on the other guys when changing despite feeling some attraction there, so I didn’t believe Rachel would do anything like that, either, even if she’d get the opportunity. Of course, he also seemed more embarrassed about his attraction to guys than to girls, and that’s not even mentioning what might’ve happened if he’d gotten caught, but that was all besides the point. Ricky, or Rachel, whichever she goes by, is my friend, and wouldn’t do that. It’s just not who they are.

Of course, just because I can’t tell something’s bad, doesn’t mean it’s not. I’ve got no clue why having your elbows on the table was bad, but my mom assured me it was a grave sin. Maybe this is the same? Like they’d said, that this was a failure in ‘manning up’? No, that doesn’t make sense either. After all, gender equality is a good thing, so a boy wearing cute clothes can’t be any worse than a girl doing so. Maybe it’s just bad to pretend to be something you’re not? That seems the most likely, but I’m still not sure why. It seems like a white lie, and those aren’t bad.

Of course, I’ve never been sure why those aren’t bad when other lies are, either.

I ponder the morality of lying for a bit more before I reach my house. I didn’t even bring my keys, so I ring the doorbell. My mom opens the door, and I prepare myself for another fight, but instead she sounds relieved and wraps me into a hug. “There you are! I was so worried something was going to happen to you! Don’t you ever storm off like that again!”

“Mom? I’m fine. I was just at Ricky’s house.” I was only gone for like an hour? Why is she being so emotional?

“Oh, I know. Your father said that’d be the case, but. First I was mad that you’d stormed off, but then I noticed you’d left your phone behind, and I just started worrying,” she half-cries, finally letting me go.

“Well, you don’t have to. I can take care of myself. And I’m taking all that stuff with me now, so I’ll be fine,” I say as I step past her to collect my things.

“You’re leaving again?”

“Yes? We still need to go to the mall, and Ricky’s waiting at the bus stop for me.” Well, really Rachel is, but my mom doesn’t have to know that.

“Oh, yes you mentioned that. Still, I’d feel better if I saw you a bit longer. Maybe I can pick up Ricky at the bus stop and I’ll drop you two off at the mall.” Shit. Mom really can’t see Rachel, she’d ask way too many questions. But I can’t tell her why, either. Quick, what would my mom accept as an excu- Oh!

“Well, the thing is that we’re actually meeting up with some new friends. Can’t let them see us being dropped off by my mom, you know. That’d be totally lame.” Of course, I don’t actually care either way who’d see that, and normally would have gladly accepted her offer. Heck, we’re meeting inside, they wouldn’t see her anyway. Still, she eats it right up.

“Oh, you’re right! I’m sorry honey, I keep forgetting you’re older now. You need your independence. If you promise to always have your phone with you from now on, you can go on your own.”

I wasn’t planning on forgetting my phone more often, so I hastily agree and go inside to collect my things, saying hi to dad on the way. Unlike mom’s earlier worries, he seems mostly glad I’m back so that mom calms down. After grabbing my things, saying goodbye and promising to be back by dinner, I leave for the bus stop.

Rachel’s there by the time I get to the stop, having added the coat and a backpack to her outfit and looking incredibly nervous. I call out to her: “Hi Rachel!”

She turns towards me, looking incredibly happy. She must have been really nervous alone. “Hey Lynne! It’s good to see you!”

I laugh. “It’s been like fifteen minutes, you dork!”

Rachel blushes and kicks at the ground. “Well, I feel more secure with you around. Especially today.” She must be pretty worried.

“Gosh, you sweetie. Don’t worry, I’ll stick by you, okay?”

She smiles and gives me a quick hug, whatever barrier had been erected between us the past few years shattered thoroughly by now. It was nice. We stood side by side while waiting for the bus, glad to have each other.

yd12k

Hi everyone! I didn't expect to be releasing another chapter this fast, but the next few chapters are flowing out of my fingers with relative ease now that I've passed the paragraphs giving me trouble. Happy stuff really is a lot easier to write in my opinion.