It was over.

It was all over.

My sister Lena would tell my parents. It would get out. Everyone would know. Everyone would hate me. I would…

“Xander! Xander, stop, you’re going to hurt yourself!”

Almost distantly, I felt my sister grab my wrists, and I realised I’d been rubbing my eyes like mad, trying to get the make-up off; I’d only succeeded in smearing it all over my face, however. I tried to pull my arms away, and almost succeeded, throwing Lena off-balance; she quickly recovered, and tightened her grip. I started wailing.

“What the hell, bro! What’s wrong?” Lena asked, but that only made me cry louder. Then she said, “Xander, stop! Mom and dad will hear us!”

That shut me up. The thought of my parents seeing me in that condition was just unbearable.

I looked up at Lena, tears in my eyes. She had a look of extreme concern on her face.

“Don’t...” I tried to say. What came out, however, was halfway between a whisper and a sob.

“Shhhhhh,” she whispered. “Calm down. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Gathering all my willpower, I managed to force out: “Don’t tell mom and dad. Please.”

Lena’s expression was undecipherable, a mixture of too many feelings. She’d never seen me like this. I’d always been the strong big brother, who would take care of her (even though we were just a year apart in age). But now…

She slowly let go of my arms, almost as if she was afraid I would bolt away the moment she released her grip, then put her hand on my shoulder. “Come on,” she said, gently steering me towards the bathroom we shared. “Let’s get that stuff off your face.”

After turning on the light she made me sit down on the toilet, while she opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of remover and a few cotton pads. She shook the bottle vigorously, squirted some of the substance on a pad, and crouched in front of me.

“Hey,” she said, still quietly and with kindness in her voice. “Look at me.”

I realised I’d been staring at the floor. Almost in a daze, I looked up into her hazel eyes.

“It’s okay,” she said, smiling. “I won’t tell. Really.”

I looked at her for a couple seconds, then whispered, “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” she replied. “Now, close your eyes, this stuff’s not too harsh but it’s still best not to get it into them.” I complied, and she gently wiped my make-up away.

“All done,” Lena said. I opened my eyes again: she was still smiling her kind smile. Without thinking, I reached forward and hugged her tight. She let out a yelp of surprise, but quickly reciprocated the gesture.

“Thank you,” I whispered again.

After we’d pulled away from the embrace she placed her hands on my shoulders, and looked right into my eyes. Her kind face turned serious.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked.

Weirdly, despite everything I’d been through that night, I did want to talk about it. We moved to her room and sat on the bed, and she listened intently while I recounted the events that had led to me standing in front of her with a face-full of make-up. As I kept talking, her face turned dark and sombre; when I concluded my story, she looked at me for a few seconds, then extended her hand towards me, palm up.

“Keys,” she said.

“What?” I asked, puzzled.

“Your car keys. Give them here.”

“What for?”

“What do you think?” she replied. “We’re going back there. I’ve got some choice words to say to that bitch Molly.”

There was a dangerous edge in her voice. The only time I’d heard her use that tone was when she found out her boyfriend was cheating on her. It didn’t end well for the guy.

“Lena,” I said. “It’s past midnight. Service is over. Even if we leave now, we won’t get there before everyone has left.”

She looked at me, deep in thought. “Alright,” she nodded. “When’s the next time you and Molly have a shift together?”

“Lena, please. Don’t blame Molly, she did nothing wrong. It was me who--”

“Nothing wrong?” Lena almost shouted, and I mentally thanked whoever had built our house for making the walls extra thick, and for putting the master bedroom on the ground floor, way at the back; otherwise, our parents would have surely been woken up by my sister’s voice.

“Nothing wrong!” she repeated, throwing her hands up. “Fucking hell! I don’t even know how you can say that with a straight face!”

She looked me in the eyes. “I mean, what was she thinking? You don’t dress someone up on a lark like that, especially not someone like--”

She cut off, catching herself, but it was too late. I stared at her.

“Someone like who?” I asked.

“Never mind,” she said quietly, looking away.

I was startled by her sudden switch in demeanour, but I wasn’t about to let it go so easily. “Someone like who, Lena?” I repeated.

She turned to look at me again, and was silent for a long time. There was a sadness in her eyes I’d never seen before.

“Someone like you. Someone who clearly has unresolved gender issues.”

I could almost hear the gears in my brain grinding to a halt. Did she just say that? Had she just said that? I clearly had what now?

“I clearly have what now?” I asked, my dumb mouth putting what my brain was thinking out there without any filter.

Lena sighed, long and hard. “Xander...” she began, but then she saw me flinch at that clearly masculine name; she gave me a startled look, but then realised.

“Alex,” she began again. Better. That was better. I didn’t flinch that time. “I… I’m sorry, but it’s kinda obvious. I mean,” she said, gesturing at me, “Have you taken a look in the mirror lately? Your hair is longer than most girls’, and you take good care of it. Obsessively, even. And there’s not a single hair anywhere else on your body, you’ve been shaving for quite a while now.”

“I just like long hair,” I protested. “And I have to shave, for cycling and swimming. You know that.”

“True,” Lena nodded, “But you’d started a couple years before taking up sports. Right after entering puberty, I have to say.”

“That still doesn’t prove anything,” I replied, in a plaintive voice.

“Alright then, how about all the times we played princesses together when we were younger?” she asked. “We kept that up until you were in seventh grade, and you only stopped because your friends at school found out and started teasing you about it. Or how,” she continued, “When we played superheroes, you were always Wonder Woman?”

I flashed back at my childhood. I could clearly remember everything she was talking about, it was seared in my memory. “But you were always Batman!” I said. “Who else could I--”

“Superman?” Lena replied. “Or Robin. Or Aquaman. Or The Flash. Or...” she trailed off, looking at me. I was staring at the floor again.

We were quiet for a while, then I whispered, “Is it really that obvious?”

Lena thought for a bit. “For me?” she said. “Yes. But you’re my bro-- my sibling, I’ve known you since I was born, and I spend lots of time with you. But I only realised it recently because I’ve met a couple trans girls after joining the GSA at school, and after chatting with them things just clicked. I don’t think anyone else has figured it out.”

“Not even mom and dad?”

“Ha, no,” my sister said, with a smirk. “Parents, and especially our parents, are famously oblivious to things like these. In fact,” she put her finger to her chin, deep in thought, “I have to apologise to Molly. She’s known you for what, a few weeks now? There is no way she could have realised.” She paused. “But she still shouldn’t have dressed you up. That was way out of line.”

We were silent for a long time, just thinking about everything. Then I spoke up again.

“So what should I do?” I asked.

Lena sighed. “I don’t know, Alex. I’m sorry. Maybe talking to someone will help.” She seemed to realise something. “Don’t they have a counsellor or something at your college?” she asked.

“I think so,” I replied.

“Maybe they could help?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

We were quiet for another while, then Lena said, “For the time being, I think you should just take the advice the chef gave you, and sleep on it. It’s almost one in the morning, and we both have school tomorrow. Mom and dad will be mad at us if we let our grades slip.”

I nodded, got up from Lena’s bed, and started towards the door.

“Alex,” I heard Lena call me. I turned around; she’d gotten up too, and was looking at me. “Remember, you can always count on me. Always.”

I started crying again. I don’t know if it was her words that did it, or if the stress of the night had finally broken down the floodgates, but I felt tears running down my cheeks.

My sister noticed it too. “Oh, come here, you,” she said, pulling me in a tight embrace. We stayed like that for a good five minutes, until I’d calmed down and the tears had stopped flowing, then we separated.

“Good night, Alex,” Lena said, as I closed the door to her room. I walked to my room and collapsed on the bed, without even bothering to change into my PJs; I was so tired that I fell asleep instantly.