And so in the next few weeks it became my new normal.

Spending my afternoons either at school with Joey  or hanging out with Sarah, or at ones of theirs's houses. Any alone time maybe at a movie or something. Zero desire to be in that household - evident by my nights of being harangued by my folk. You’d think with all the meals I was skipping I’d manage to lose a few pounds though - guess I’m just destined to be a big guy forever. And then late at night, I would act out again. Right back in middle school playing with mommy's things, reading those weird comics outta nostalgia. Although in the scifi-ish one it looks like almost half the cast has come out as some kind of gay or trans - that’s nice. Art’s much better too.

I guess you could say then that the cycle was a bit my fault - maybe they’d finally blow over the whole Joey situation if I’d just buckled down with my shit. Of course you can’t just change things about your appearance and expect no one to notice. Ma was happy to see the beard go and that I was ‘taking care of myself again’. Dad just joked about Sarah transforming me into some ‘metrosexual loser’. You’d think the way they were talking about her constantly, it was as if we were in some awful sitcom and I was some whipped dipshit. Or even, like, actually dating - they’ve just assumed the second I mentioned her. I mean, yeah, I do actually have a crush. And I did bait them into thinking that. But like, good god, their reactions almost make me ashamed of that! 

Thank god above that it’s fall too - on impulse I shaved away all the hair on my arms and legs, and I’d be left out to dry had it not been pants season. I already know I pushed things too far with the polish - to go from a kid who loudly talks about how uncomfortable socks are to suddenly wearing them all the time must have been a little too suspicious with the old man. He goes and rips them off my feet when we’re watching some shitty movie together, joking that they were ‘too dirty to leave on’ (I probably could have worn cleaner ones…), only to have the color drain from his face-to-face with my red toesies. Had to convince him it was a bet with some schoolkid that I couldn’t ‘do something embarrassing and hide it for a week’ before he would lay off me. A few days later he apologized, said he got too heated and it wouldn't happen again, and then made me promise to stop taking bets. Joked that I was as good at gambling as anything else. It didn't really matter. He sounded remorseful. My split lip at least looked fine under mom’s lipstick. 

But, yeah. Because of, just, all that, at least it gave me an excuse to spend more time with Sarah getting to know her. In fact, we’d become almost inseparable since we’d met. Her dad really was a total sweetheart, cool with his daughter’s friends dropping by literally whenever, and pretty friendly with me when he was home. Sarah said that he spent a lot of time volunteering with the church so he was gone pretty often - funny though, for such a supposedly devout man his house really didn’t look it. But it did give us pretty much free reign of her home most days. Which usually amounted to us watching Hot Bench or some other daytime tv trash in her living room. Which I’m half doing now, half desperately not thinking about the dumb fuckin’ thing I’m going to be doing in a few hours.

“So, Liam. The bonfire tonight - are we still going in those costumes? You do know it’s entirely ok to bail on it.” 

You see, our little town always does this huge bonfire every Halloween (or, well, the weekend closest to Halloween). It’s technically for little kids whose parents are too frightened by myths of razors in apples to let them trick or treat still enjoy the holiday - but honestly it’s mostly twenty-somethings getting piss drunk and dancing like any other party. My dumb ass, probably too high off myself fuckin’ around at nights, called Sarah’s bluff on the Valley Girl stuff. Somehow that led to us mucking around in a St. Vinnie’s buying secondhand clothes, which led to one Veronica Sawyer and one Jason Dean outfit spread out on her bed. I was so confident that it’d be so funny when we bought the good god damned things, but now that it’s come time to actually wear it something is tearing me apart  - my late night toying around has me all fucked up. Having everyone see this hulking mess in all that cute stuff doesn’t feel like laughing with me anymore.

“I… Sarah, can I be honest with you? I actually so want to ditch the plan and just watch bad creature features all night with you. But I kinda think I, like, have to do this? For me. To prove to myself that, like, uh. You know! I’m not… or I can…” I’m floundering, Sarah is just looking at me with that sparkling pity in her eyes - I need to recenter myself now. Deep breath Liam. “Sarah, trust me. I’m not letting my anxiety get to me tonight. I made a promise to you that we’re going to have fun, and I’m keeping it.” I try to sell it with a smile. 

“OK then. Let’s actually go get ready now then - I got some things that’ll take that costume from good to great, valley girl~”

I’m sitting on her bed, her rummaging in her closet for those ‘extra goodies’ she promised, a chair set up right across from where I’m sitting. Her room is actually pretty huge, but with almost nothing in the center of it - everything’s pushed off to the sides with a wide blank area in the middle. And hanging on her door is that extra large coat, gray blouse, gray skirt, and blue tights.

“Ok, first and probably most straightforward: tada!” She pulls out a blue striped croquet mallet and honestly, it’s so very. Exactly what I need to pull the whole thing together! “Ok, next - put this on~” and she throws a bra my direction. It’s… wow.

“Is this new? I don’t think I should be wearing your undies, no offense. And, like, what then? Do you wanna have me stuff some socks down my shirt?” 

“Ok first off dumdum, of course it’s new - we’re not even close to the same size. And second off, check out these bad boys!” And she slaps something down hard on her dresser top. “My old chicken cutlets from before I grew my own! Man, what was I thinking with that size? I must have looked like Dolly Parton in those things~ They should be perfect for your frame, though!” 

“You’re going to have me strap raw chicken to my chest? Did I walk into the nuthouse?” She just giggled and waved me off.

“They’re fake breasts, plastic and rubber. It’s a nickname since they look so much like them!” Oh. Looking them over - yeah, they actually do look a lot like skinless chicken meat. I don’t know what I was expecting them to look like. Like, all those stories online talked about the ‘realistic human skin’ and these goofy fake nipples on top. I mean, I guess those stories did seem both pretty horny and not entirely realistic to say the least... 

“Do you want me to get out of the room so you can get dressed? Or do you want me to help you get these on first?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. That’d be nice, I’m a little lost.” I pull off my shirt and throw the bra on - it’s not one of those clothy ones but one with a little more shape to it. I imagine that helps sell the illusion. Just a little adjusting the straps to the largest setting and getting my arms around...

“Wow, Liam. That’s pretty impressive - I wasn’t expecting you to get it right away! I had this whole ‘clip in the front spin around’ spiel that I was gonna bust out for ya~”

“I mean, it’s a little bit of elastic and some hooks in the back, it’s pretty intuitive stuff. I seriously don’t get why guys act like it’s nuclear fission. Plus, I mean, I was twelve once you know. Everyone’s got that ‘play in mommy’s closet’ phase, not exactly my first rodeo here.” She just gives me one of those patented Sarah looks and helps me adjust it proper, throwing in the silicone bits before throwing the rest of the outfit at me and heading out, waiting for me to scramble into it and call her back in. 

Just before I call her back in though, I take a glance at myself in the mirror, and my heart sinks. I look bloated and janky. An utter joke. I just stare at my reflection for a while. I really don’t know what I was expecting here, though. Wasn’t that the fun of the whole exercise? To show off how this clearly wasn’t meant for me? It’s supposed to be funny...

“Liam? It’s been twenty minutes. Are you ok in there?” Oh shit, really? That long? I forgot to call her in. I clear the mistiness out of my eyes and clear my throat. Maybe we can have that giggle and then just go plainclothes? Do I even want her to see me like this? “Hey, I’m coming in ok?”

“It’s horrible, isn’t it?” I can’t help but immediately dump my worries out before she’s even past the doorline. “This was a mistake, look how lumpy everything is! And the shirt is way too small on me. I’m… just not supposed to be in this stu...”

“No. First off: don’t. Second: you look fine, you’re just wearing some of the things wrong. Don’t button that up to the very top, leave some room for your sternum to breath. And sweetie, you’re wearing the skirt around your hips, not your waist. The band goes above your belly button.” She hikes up the skirt on me and I watch as the weird lumps and the awkward shirt crop magically go away. Oh. Well, that’s embarrassing. It’s a cool comfort though for the clothes to look ok when the rest of me still looks so...

“Ok then, one last thing I want to do. Will you let me do your hair and makeup? It’ll pull the whole thing together!” Well, there’s the million dollar question answered - we’re doing a full makeover here, huh.

I wait a pause, trying to steel myself back into the mood to go forward. “I mean... why not. In for a penny, in for a pound. Did you buy a wig for me too?”

“Oh, there’s no need for that~ You’ve already got such pretty hair, you just hide it. A little brushing and teasing and you’ll look right out of the movie.” I’m not too proud to say that comment brought some heat to my face. I’ve never considered my hair pretty - sure it was kinda long, but it was stringy and shaggy and always in knots. Still, I let her play around with it, spraying and brushing it this way and that. It was honestly a little horrible when she hit any of the snags, but once it got to be just brushing through it was almost soothing.

The makeup didn’t take nearly as long as I thought it would - she did spend an age and a half near my eyes though, thanks to her having to redo most of it after I rubbed one. I mean, come on! She's rubbing shit on my waterline, my eyes were wet enough already! She showed me how to wipe away tears without actually touching my eyes by running my hands under them, and then finally she was done. “Ok valley girl, time to see the final product!'' She hoists me up, gives me back my glasses, and with my heart going a million miles an hour I walk over to the full length mirror. She has me strike a pose before turning it around. And…

You know in those stories online? The ones where the protagonists get that makeover or whatever and they look in the mirror and they’re so shocked that they can’t even imagine that it’s them looking back? Gonna tell y’all right now it’s complete horseshit. This is one hundred percent still so obviously me here. This is my face looking back at me, under bright lipstick and some adorable smokey cat eyes, no beard shadow to be found. That’s my hair, manipulated to look full and lush, the waves teased out so it almost touches my shoulders, with something magical done to it to give me cute bangs instead of a huge forehead. That’s definitely all six foot three inches of my body, decked out with curves and wrapped in the kind of adorable outfit I could only dream of. That sure is my gut not hidden, but somehow working with the flared skirt to almost give me faux hips. Those are my shaking hands, one so tightly wrapped around the hilt of the mallet that the knuckles have gone bone white and the flesh around the shimmering blue nails have gone blood red, one up to my lips in pure shock. It’s horseshit for the single worst reason something can be: it removes everything good about this moment. It’s so obviously me. 

“Liam? How do you like it all?” Oh. Huh. I was finally feeling good. That’s… not a great sign, when this stuff makes you feel wonderful and then your own name…

“Hey, Sarah? Do you think we could… uh… maybe try… Can I not be Liam?” Oh my good god above what the fuck is that you just said. You’re crashing, whoever the fuck you are. Put a sentence together or so help me god! “I mean, can, I, like. Can you call me something else? It doesn’t… feel right like this…”

“Oh, baby. Of course you can try on a different name. What are you thinking?” I can’t tell if she wants to cry or not, but she’s got the stupidest smile on her face. It’s so cute I could die.

“Uh, I mean. I’m dressed like Veronica, so? Or, I mean, I guess… I guess it would be Lea would…”

“No. Not ‘what am I supposed to be’ or ‘what is the girly version of my de… my name’. What name do you want to be called? What speaks to you, what’s your heart going to.” Well, call me Dan Aykroyd because I couldn’t help it. It just popped in there. 

“Scarlett.”

And then, after all that build up, you’d think I’d have more to say about the actual bonfire. And yeah, I was practically pissing in my stockings over the fear of going out to where actual people could see me. Until I got there and didn’t recognize a single person at the event.

“Well, think about it. You said that everyone you knew except Joey went out of state for college, right? You’re basically all alone here. And even if we run into anyone you knew back in high school, not only would they not know you enough to care - how would they recognize you in the first place?”

It was pretty sound logic. Sound enough to get me out of the gas station across the way and into the actual park, at least. Not quite sound enough for me not to get fuckin’ loaded though.

And despite being a few mike’s deep and basically drunk off my ass (I have always been the lightest of weights), I think I had the greatest time of my entire life that night. We danced! We sang! We did the monster mash! We ate, like, two whole bags of kettle corn! And I don’t think one single dipshit even saw me (or even got what our costumes were - get better taste y’all). And pretty soon the night just devolved into us sitting on the outskirts of the massive bonfire, leaning on each other and laughing and drinking and talking.

“Hey valley girl… I think it’s time I headed home. I’ve got some family obligations tonight. But I’m so glad that you came out with me. I had such a wonderful time…” The light of the bonfire glinted against her brilliant eyes. God above, she was beautiful, and I didn’t want her to go!

“Noooooooooooooooo, stay with meeeeeeeee. Fuck families! What have they ever done for us!” I giggled probably a little too hard on that. “No, no, I get it. I had an amazing time. Thank you so much for tonight, I…” I realized that I was probably leaning in too hard when I could feel her breath on my face. Then I realized that I wasn’t leaning at all.

“Hey… Scarlett. I, is it ok if... I?” Had I been sober I’d be all over myself at this moment, triple, quadruple guessing myself. I just nod and close my eyes. My grip on her black denim jacket is so tight that I completely crush her dad’s pack of cigarettes she was using for the costume. She tastes like sour cherries. 

If there were justice in this world, that’s where the story would end. Great nights like that deserve to be left alone. Instead my brilliant ass pulled the galaxy brain move of stumbling back home piss drunk in the middle of the night without having texted my Ma once all day. I knew I’d never sneak in, so I figured I’d just walk in and get the reprimanding from the two of them out of the way so I can get to memorializing what… god above, that was our first date wasn’t it!

“There you are Liam! Jesus christ son, it’s midnight and you had us worried! I thought we told you to check in.” Ma sternly but teasingly calls from outside the kitchen. “Did you at least have a good time on your dat…” What? She just… stopped. She’s just… standing there, frozen. After maybe a minute like that, she just, calmly asks. “Son. What are you wearing.”

Oh. I forgot.

“Uh, it was a couple’s costume. Sarah went as JD. It’s for, Halloween?”

She replies in a demeanor I think is the calmest I’ve ever seen on her. Dad lumbers in too, probably curious about all the noise, creeps up behind her. Nope, nevermind. He’s gone. As he marches his way back to the bedroom, mom just walks over to me and grabs both of my arms softly, rubbing one gently up and down, with a, reassuring smile creeping on her face? “Liam. I’m not fucking stupid. Do you think I’m stupid?” She speaks softly, reassuringly, motherly.

“No ma’am.”

“Ok. Then don’t lie to me. This is you, right?” She quickly removes a hand to gesture up and down at me, before lightly putting it back.

“... you’re not mad. How aren’t you mad?”

“Should I be mad that a zebra has stripes? Can I scream to make a dog walk upright?” I think I’m too drunk to understand this. “No, we tried to save you. With jokes, with expectations, with beatings. There’s no saving a leopard from his spots.”

I smile a little, guarded. Mom has always been so understanding, and maybe... “Did I… what are you saying? Is it ok!?”

“Son, of course it’s not ok. You’re a faggot. A demon. I just realized, just now. That this is who you are, isn’t it. That’s what they say, you’re born this way? I can’t save you. This is you.” Oh, fuck me. This is… worse than I could have ever imagined. My perfect glass orb brain actually let me get my hopes up! Did I think this was going to go any other way? God above, here come the tears. “No no, don’t cry.” She has the fucking gall to hug me, tightly. I start weeping into her, clutching on for dear life.

“What’s going to happen?”

“It’s easy enough to answer, Liam. Tonight you’re going to leave, I don’t want anyone seeing you like that anywhere near our home. Give me a few days to collect your stuff. I’ll have it packed away for you come monday, you can come grab it all then. After that, don’t try to come back. If you see us on the street, don’t wave. You’re not my son.”

I think at this point I’m just wondering why I’m not in the middle of a panic attack. I must be too numb for it to happen.

“No, hey, Liam. Look at me." She softly grabs my chin and tilts my face up to look at hers. "This is such a hard path you’ve chosen. You’re going to face a lot of challenges out there. The world is built for love, not sin, and I’m truly sorry for what you’re going to go through. Despite you being an abomination, I can’t help it. I love you Liam, and I hope you know that I tried everything to prevent this.” She gets up and walks towards her bedroom, looking back over her shoulder for one last word. “If I were in your shoes, I would kill myself. It’s the only good I could ever do for this world. I pray you’re stronger than me.”

It’s about halfway driving to Sarah's house before I even realize I’ve gotten into the car. Three quarters of the way the hyperventilation starts. I’m lightheaded as I pound on the front door. Her dad lets me in as I’m wavering. 

“Liam! How are you doing son, what a surprise! Good to see you buddy, nice costume. I thought she was going to do it solo, but she did say another face would be here tonight. She must have finally taken my advice and invited someone important to the ceremony. She’s already gotten started in her room, just go join her!” 

I could give less than a shit that none of that made sense, I could barely think about anything. I just need to see Sarah. I need her help with this. He walks me up to her room, knocking on the door for me. “Sweetheart, Liam is here for you!”

“WHAT! DAD PLEASE...”

He opens the door mid sentence - I guess even the best dads just barge right in, huh.

And there’s Sarah. Gorgeous, wonderful Sarah. That’s her beautiful face shining at me through her horrified shock. Her gleaming eyes flickering off all the candlelight. Her gorgeous candy apple red hair swirling around her shoulders, matching the markings making up the sigil on the floor. That’s definitely all five foot eleven inches of her body, bare to the world save for ashen marks painted over every curve. That sure is her gut, taught and beautiful and slashed shallow to her hips, bleeding onto the floor. Those are her shaking hands, one tightly wrapped around the hilt of a dagger, one up to her lips in pure shock, both held firmly by gnarled black beclawed arms leading to shadowy nothing behind her.

“Scarlett!”

It’s too much. I hit the floor hard. I barely feel it.

CassieSandwich

Wash your hands three times a day
Always do what your mom and dad say
Brush your teeth in the following way
Wash your hands three times a day

Hey y’all! I just wanna thank you for giving my work a read! I also want to give a big shout out to Morri (author of the very entertaining Thaw) for keeping me sane and at least somewhat focused on writing~

If you wanna follow me anywhere else, you can find me over at my twitter @Cassie_Sandwich where you'll find me just on my bullshit 24/7. 

Thank you so much for reading, and I always crave that sweet sweet serotonin that comes with feedback, so feel free to comment below!