“Randall, honey, if something is wrong, you can just tell us, you know,” Lily’s mother said as she sat down. Her father was still hanging up their coats, but making affirmative ‘hmm’ and ‘m-hm’ noises. Lily tried to ignore them as she pulled the meatloaf out of the oven, but mothers are historically difficult to tune out. Besides, she did have to focus. She’d timed the food to be ready when her parents arrived, but she’d timed it a little too well and she would rather be a little impolite than burn the food, especially something this finicky. 

“Yeah, it’s only been, what, three weeks since the last time we saw each other?”

Mother and Father exchanged the kind of glance only parents could exchange. “Four, dear,” her mom said. “And that’s so quick, we can only assume there has to be some kind of emergency, can’t we?” The worst part about their teasing, of course, is that they were right. Not that Lily disliked her parents (not really), but she did enjoy the quiet, the fact that she was not accountable to her family the way she had been. Perhaps most importantly, she simply never felt the urge to reach out to her parents, which amused her father and drove her mother to frustration. 

She forced a smile onto her face as she put the food on the table. “I’m okay, Mom,” Lily said. “I just wanted to see you and… you know… talk.” Lily worried she’d hesitated a little too much on those last few words, and another meaningful glance was shared between her parents. Sometimes she worried the two were psychically connected. Nobody’s parents were supposed to get along this well. At her age, everyone’s parents were, if not divorced, then at least quietly resentful of one another. 

“Uh-huh,” Dad said. “I love talking. Speaking of talking, where’s that roommate of yours? I would have loved to meet her.” He looked around as if Rachel was going to pop out from behind the furniture with a party popper to shower them in confetti. 

“Rachel’s not feeling good,” Lily said. “I think she’s asleep.” She put the orzo and the home-made pesto out and glanced at the door. What she’d said was mostly true. After Lily had come home, Rachel had clearly been in a bad way, worried she’d done something unforgivable. When Lily had walked in, Rachel had rushed over to hug her, pretended like she hadn’t been crying, and had then rushed back to her room. She’d only left it a handful of times in the past few days. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lily’s mom said. “Tell her we hope she feels better soon.” Lily just nodded as she put the salad bowl on the table, and finally a bottle of red wine she knew her mother would approve of and her father would grumble at. “Is that everything?” Lily’s mom asked. With a heavy sigh, Lily nodded. “Good,” Mom said, stood up, and pulled her child in for a hug. 

“You can’t escape your mother’s hugs forever, Randall,” her father said. “Hold on, is this a pinot noir?” Lily untangled herself from her mother, and both of them sat down.

“Oh, hush, dear,” Lily’s mom said. “I’m sure it’ll be just lovely.” Lily deliberately didn’t look at either of them, focusing instead on carving the meatloaf, and serving it to the outstretched plates. She wasn’t in the mood for a lecture, and the more she let her father air his culinary grievances, the faster he’d be done. Although maybe she preferred him doing this instead of probing into her life. There was going to be more than enough of that later.

“I’m sure,” Dad said, “but I like to think we both know we raised him better than this. Bordeaux is much more reliable than something like this.” He looked at the label. “Not familiar with Macrostie, but…” he paused and looked at Lily for a moment, “I’m going to trust your judgement.” Well, that was something, at least. But the way he’d said it was a little bit weird. Maybe they really did suspect something was up? 

It wasn’t like Lily could really hide it. Between Rachel’s clearly spiking anxiety and her own incessant internal screaming, she’d had a lot to deal with. She dealt herself food as she once again went over how to even broach the subject. After the conversation with Amelia, it had been hard to sleep. It had been hard to think. She was, apparently, a girl? And she was supposed to just carry on with her life after that kind of a revelation, like her entire self-image hadn’t been shattered like a glass swan unceremoniously yote out of a fifth-story window. 

At least Amelia had been a great help, directing her to links for therapists, online communities and, most importantly, gender affirming clothing that was liable to both fit and look cute. Not that Lily had made any attempts to approach any of them — which Amelia had reassured her was more than okay — because there was so much to figure out, still. So much she didn’t understand. But she understood that she was Lily, and that was the most important part. At least for now. She poured the wine for the three of them. 

They ate in silence while thoughts raced through Lily’s head like high-speed bullet trains, flashing past the station fast enough to almost knock her off her feet, but not slow enough to actually get on board and get some thinking done. 

“What’s wrong, Randall?” her mother asked. “You seem unusually pensive, even for you.” Lily froze. Something weird had also happened in the past few days. Things that had never really bothered her were suddenly a lot harder to come to terms with, harder to ignore. 

Like her reflection. Back before The Big Realization, she’d often spent time looking in the mirror, staring into her own eyes, trying to see the person hidden behind the glass, because her reflection had never seemed like a real person (“Dissociation or depersonalization,” Amelia had said, “I don’t remember which is which.”). That didn’t work anymore. Now, when she looked in the mirror, it was almost… no, it was painful. When she looked into her own eyes, she saw Lily, there, but hidden. Covered up by a suit of armor that was so intensely not her it brought her to tears almost every time. 

And, of course, her name. Sure, she’d already shortened it to Ran to distance herself from it even before she knew something was up, but hearing it now made her brain feel like nutmeg being ground against a grater, turning it into powder. It had never felt like her name before, but now it felt like a slap in the face, every time, and she had no way of easily explaining how something as innocent as a name felt almost like a violation of who she was. 

“Is it because of our conversation from last time?” her father asked, and then he held up his glass and pursed his lips innocently. “You know, if you’re… oh, I don’t know, gay, or something, your mother and I will always support you.” Well, his heart was in the right place at least. Lily interrupted her own train of thought. Thinking of Rachel, she realized that he was right, just not in the way he thought he was.

“Thanks, Dad,” she said, carefully cutting off a piece of potato, skewering it alongside a cherry tomato, and finally a bit of meatloaf, and chomping down. It wasn’t bad. The meatloaf could be better, she felt, but perfection was a goal that changed, never stopped moving. It could be chased but not caught. But still. At least the crust was perfectly crunchy. 

“So… um… if you want to talk…” her mother said. Where her father had all the subtlety of a sledgehammer to a glass door, Lily’s mom would be happy to have a go at it with a rhinoceros. It was hard to get the words out. As long as she didn’t say anything, she could still back out, she could still pretend like there was nothing going on but some anxiety.

“I think I would,” Lily managed to push out. Well, the first few words were out there. There was no real going back anymore now. She finished her food and put her utensils down carefully as she weighed her words carefully, tossed them out, and went through that process several more times. She didn’t know where to start. Would blurting it out be easier? Or calmly explaining her thought process? What if she said it wrong and they’d hate her, or disown her? She’d have to move out from the apartment, and drop out of college. Find a job. But if she didn’t say anything, she’d be hiding for the rest of her life. “So, I’ve been thinking,” she managed. “About a lot of stuff, lately.”

“Thinking is good,” her dad said. “Or so I’ve been told.” He chuckled, but fell silent when he caught another telepathic glare from his wife. 

“So I think you both know I’ve had… stuff going on,” she said, and looked at both her parents. They both knew their child had been an anxious mess for most of her life, although a real cause had never really been established. They nodded at her, letting her take this at her own pace. While she appreciated that, a part of her wanted them to barrage her with questions. It would make some things easier. She could be more specific in her answers that way. “And I’ve been talking to some people, and they helped me come to terms with some things. About myself.” She took a deep breath. Time to bring out the big guns. Her secret weapon, sincerity, dealt bonus damage to parents. And she needed them to understand how serious she was. “I’m worried it’ll push you away if I say something.”

“Of course not,” her mother said, reaching out and grabbing Lily’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “You’re our son, no matter what happens.” That stung, but she appreciated the gesture at least. Hopefully the sentiment would be conserved, although ideally not the words. Her father crossed his arms and closed his arms.

“Just… be honest with us, Randall.” He looked Lily in the eyes. “Are you… a libertarian?” Lily couldn’t help but laugh, and that broke the tension a bit. The three of them sat there in silence for a minute. 

“I’m… I don’t think I’m a… I think I might be transgender,” Lily finally said. A part of her knew, of course, but if she made a grand statement, maybe it would send the wrong message, that this was just something she’d jumped into instead of giving herself time to figure things out. Being diplomatic was important. Probably. 

“Like… as in… you think you’re a girl?” her mother asked. Lily had a hard time reading her face, so she just swallowed and nodded. “I think…” Mom said, and then looked at her husband, and then back at Lily, “I think… we both… always wanted a daughter.” 

If Lily had been a pudding, she would have deflated, turning into a puddle of goop on her chair. She realized she’d been subconsciously holding her breath the entire time, and letting it all out at once, all of the feelings she’d kept a stranglehold on this entire time flowed out with it. She was ugly-crying before she even realized what had happened. Her parents on either side of her, helping her stand up so she could cry while they held her. “Lily,” she mumbled into her dad’s chest when there was a lull in the sobbing. 

After that, dinner seemed to be mostly forgotten. Her parents helped her clean things up, putting aside a plate for the roommate and taking the leftovers for themselves. They had more questions, and Lily did her best to answer them, but everything was going by in a blur. They offered to stay the rest of the day, help her figure things out, but she declined. To say she was overwhelmed was an understatement. When they finally left, there was more hugging and crying. 

“I’m — We are so proud of you,” her mom said, holding her face in her hands and giving her a kiss on her forehead before pulling her in for another hug. “And I’m not just saying that because I always wanted a daughter to go shopping with.

“That’s just a bonus,” Dad said. “You’ll never get away from her now, Ra— Lily. Sorry.” With a few final waves and farewells, they walked out the door, and Lily closed the door behind them. She stood in the room for a minute, not sure of what to do, and then made a decision. She walked over to the plate she’d prepared, and brought it to Rachel’s room, knocking once. 

“Yeah,” the answer came from inside. Carefully, Lily pushed the door open, peeking her head through the gap. The lights were out, and she saw Rachel sitting on her bed, arms wrapped around her knees. She had her hair up, and smiled apologetically. “I didn’t want to disturb dinner with your parents. Did — did it go well?”

“It did,” Lily said quietly as she walked in and held the food up. “Saved you a plate.” 

“Thank you,” Rachel said, and tears started to roll down her face. 

“Hey, hey,” Lily said, hurrying in and putting the plate aside, sitting down on the bed next to Rachel. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry!” Rachel bawled. “I messed up and I hurt you and I don’t know what I did wrong and you didn’t want to talk to me about it and I didn’t want to make you hate me and now you’re being nice to me and I don’t deserve —”

“Hey!” Lily said, cutting through what she was more than adept at recognizing as an emotional spiral. “You’re fine. It’s okay.” Rachel seemed to calm down a bit and, hesitating, Lily put her hand on Rachel’s back. “You didn’t… well, you were a bit clueless, but you didn’t do anything wrong that you could have… known.” 

“What — what do you mean?”

Lily looked Rachel in the eyes for a second. Gosh, she was really close. Their shoulders were touching, and Lily realized she’d never really sat that close to her before. She tried desperately not to stare at Rachel’s face. For some reason, when Lily opened her mouth, the words came easily. 

“I’m transgender,” she said. “Amelia helped me figure it out.” As realization dawned on Rachel, so her expression shifted from anxiety, to realization, to shock.

“Oh my god… and I asked… ohmygodI’msosorry.”

“It’s fine,” Lily said with a smile. “My name is Lily. I’m a woman.” It was weird, the confidence with which she was able to declare it. She was just… stating facts. “It’s going to take me a bit, but I think I know where I’m going.”

“That’s amazing!” Rachel exclaimed and she wrapped her arms around Lily with so much force it knocked them both back on the bed, looking at the ceiling.

“It is!” Lily said, giggling at Rachel’s excitement. “I get to be a girl!”

“You get to be a girl!” Rachel said. “You’re going to love it!” 

“I know! And I get to be gay!” Lily chuckled, and then turned her head, her nose almost touching Rachel’s. Rachel wasn’t laughing. They really were very close together. 

“You’re going to love that too,” Rachel said, and moved her head just a little bit closer. Lily felt a pang in her chest. This wasn’t real, was it? Could this really be happening? She closed her eyes and the distance between them. 

Rachel’s soft lips pressed against hers, and any future thoughts and worries were going to have to wait. Lily was otherwise occupied.

Elamimax

:blush_emoji:

The story is finished and available to read right now for Patrons, who will also have exclusive content and chapters (like a smut chapter after the main one for this story), so consider checking out my Patreon, along with a lot of other as-of-yet unpublished stuff (like an entire secret in-progress story!), and even some exclusive chapters. It's not expensive, and it really does help me out a lot!

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Heck,

Ela