I woke up way before my alarm, blinking in the sunlight streaming into my room. I tended to wake up early when I was anxious about something, so it wasn’t too much of a surprise.

    My mom wasn’t going to be there for hours, so I had some time to kill. I brushed my teeth and packed up my remaining toiletries and whatnot. I thought of messaging someone, but most of my friends (online or not) were probably still asleep.

I ended up heading down to the dining hall, mainly out of boredom. I wasn’t even really hungry, but I figured I could go get a hot caffeinated drink or something.

Not surprisingly, the dining hall was pretty much deserted. I certainly didn’t mind, I wasn’t really in a mood to be around other people. I ended up getting myself some black tea (with a little slice of lemon) from one of the drink areas.

I looked around a bit at the food options. I didn’t really want the gross-looking scrambled eggs or pale ham, so I ended up getting some bacon and some toast.

I sat there thinking for a while, slowly drinking my tea and nibbling at my toast. A lot had happened over the last few months. I started college! I got a girlfriend! I probably passed all my classes (fingers crossed). And I was beginning to feel like maybe I didn’t hate myself that much.

I felt pretty happy for a little bit, until I remembered what was happening in the near future. I checked my phone, and Mom’s ETA was about 2 hours away now. My tea was ice cold now, too.

    I decided I was done sitting in the dining hall for the day, and went back up to my room. I successfully dodged Kevin along the way, who was slowed down by the big suitcase he was dragging through the lobby. I hadn’t really talked to him since Halloween and I wasn’t gonna start now.

    I sat down in front of my desk (which for the first time in months didn’t have any random papers on it) and perused my phone. I ended up texting Kate a bit, making some plans to hang out over the break. Knowing her, we would probably just end up going to the mall. Well, it would definitely be funner than being at home with my dad.

    The remaining time flew by, and before I really felt ready Mom was calling to tell me she had arrived. I lugged my backpack and a bag downstairs and over to where she had parked. Fortunately it was pretty close, so it could have been worse.

    Upon seeing me, she got out of the minivan and gave me a hug. She said, “Hi honey, it’s so nice to see you.”

    I hugged her back and said, “It’s good to see you too,” though that wasn’t completely true.

    She opened up the back and we loaded my stuff in. We had to make another trip upstairs to get the rest of my luggage, and along the way she gave me little updates about my hometown. (Like, “You know where that car wash on Grand used to be? Well, it’s a Burger King now,” and whatnot.)

    We made our way back down, and along the way I politely nodded as she continued to talk. We loaded up the rest of it, got in the car, and we were on our way.

    The first hour or so was pretty uneventful. She asked me some questions about my classes, and I answered them (not one-word answers either). Everything felt weirdly normal, even though the back of my mind thought I was driving to my doom.

    Once she ran out of school-related questions, there was a lull in the conversation. I cycled through radio stations for a bit, eventually settling on a random NPR station playing Radiolab.

    After a while, Mom cleared her throat and said, “So Sam, I wanted to talk to you about your father.”

    I said, “Ok,” glumly, the pit of my stomach dropping. Here came some bad news.

    She continued on, “I’ve been talking to him, and we even went to a therapist together. He’s still not, um, happy that you’re transgender but I think he’s starting to come around to the idea.”

    I straightened up, surprised. That was not what I had been expecting.

    I asked, “So he doesn’t hate me? He’s not gonna insist that I should be a manly man?”

    “Oh honey, he never hated you. He’s just, uh, bad at dealing with change. And if he says anything rude to you I can talk to him.”

    Well, that was something, anyway. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as bad as I thought.

    I leaned over and gave Mom a hug (well, as much of a hug as I could manage while we were both in a car with seatbelts on).

---

After another hour or so, my mom pulled the minivan into a spot by a Mexican restaurant. We strolled over towards the low-slung brick building and made our way inside through the double doors.

Inside, a sign with a sombrero precariously perched on top informed us that we should wait to be seated. I sat on one of the wooden chairs lined up against the wall, staring at a little potted cactus across the way.

After a bit, a man came over and enthusiastically greeted us (well, it was definitely fake enthusiasm though). He led us over to a table and gave us some menus, then asked if we wanted anything to drink. We both just got water.

Mom looked around at the tacky decor and said, “Now, isn’t this fun?”

I said, “Sure, Mom.” 

I looked over the big plasticky menu. Whoever designed it really loved Copperplate Gothic Bold (ugh). The enchiladas sounded alright, so I decided to go for those.

After going through the whole menu and commenting on several of the food pics, Mom finally decided. Shortly after, the waiter returned to take our orders.

He said, “What will you be having, ma’am?” and my mom said, “I think I’ll get the Olé Chicken Burrito with a side of rice.” He nodded and asked, “And for you, miss?”

I muttered, “Um, can I get the shredded beef enchiladas?” He said “Absolutely,” jotted that down, and was on his way.

I said to Mom, “I’m gonna go use the bathroom.”

She said, “Ok. Do you want me to come with you? Just in case?”

I replied, “No, I think it’ll be fine,” and got up. I scootched my chair in and walked over towards the back of the restaurant. I knew I was in the right place when I saw signs saying, “Cowboys” and “Cowgirls”. (I kinda hate when places do that, please just label your bathrooms normally. Or even better, have gender-neutral ones.)

I headed over into “Cowgirls.” There was a picture of a horse on the wall, for some reason, but it was at least pretty clean. I went about my business in a stall, then went to wash my hands.

I saw myself in the mirror, and I looked pretty cute. My hair was looking gently wavy and soft and you could tell I had boobs, even in the jacket I was wearing. Nice.

I finished up and walked back towards our table. On the way, I was remembering how the waiter called me “miss.” I hadn’t really thought about it at the time, it just felt kinda normal now.

I sat back down and made some small talk with Mom. I was feeling pretty cheerful, for once in my life. It probably wouldn’t last, though.

After a little while, our food arrived. My enchilada was absolutely smothered in cheese, which I thought was unnecessary, but overall it was all right. Mom seemed to enjoy her meal a lot, so that was good.

We finished eating, and Mom called the waiter over to settle the check. I glanced at my phone for a bit, but not much was going on.

We got back in the car, and a few minutes later we were back on the road. In a couple hours I would be home again, and at the moment that didn’t seem so bad.