“Hey Max?” I heard Gabe say.

“Mhm.” I responded.

There was a pause. “Max?” The view from the window was nice, the suburbs morphing into rural sprawl represented as a sea of tiny yellow-white lights, slowly dwindling into the horizon. “You good man?”

“Mhmm.”

The concern in his voice was evident. “Do… do you want to talk about it?”

I shrugged. I could feel my teeth grinding against each other. “Not right now.”

I could feel his eyes on my back. “Ok man, take your time. The ball drops in five, just so you know.” Footsteps, as he retreated to the doorway.

“Cool.” I looked down, closing my eyes. “I’ll be there in just a minute.”

Gabe closed the door behind me. Eventually, glacially, I turned my face from the window and sat awkwardly on the corner of the bed. Whose bed was this? Did I know anyone who actually lived here? I looked down at my costume, with its coat-tails and bowtie and snappy pocket square. The murder mystery role card stuck out of my pants pocket. I shrugged. I went to these almost every year and I was usually killed off pretty early on. Though the theme was never twenties gangsters before, so at least I got to have fun with the outfits this time.

Huh. My brothers always teased me about how much care I put into clothes. I guess I would tease myself about it too. It didn’t really make sense anyways. They never seemed to fit right. Take this suit. Pants from the tuxedo my parents bought me for my brother’s wedding, mixed and matched with a coat borrowed from a theater-major friend. It was a costume. All for show.

I pulled out the murder mystery card. You’re Sergeant Pazzo, (it said) “crooked” cop and secret double agent. You’re here to bust this whole rig wide open, and once you get the name of who killed the heiress, you can get the whole Corleone family behind bars. Don’t let anyone know your real intentions, or you’ll be full of lead before the night is up!

The writing smudged slightly, and I blinked to see several tear drops running the ink through the paper. I crumpled it in my hand. It didn’t matter, the game was over. Sergeant Pazzo was killed, as mentioned, and the Don got away with his scheme to steal the actress’ money. I didn’t mind, I never came to these things to win.

I dropped the paper to the ground and fumbled my way out of the suit coat. I could feel my breaths getting choppier, and I knew the tears wouldn’t stop anytime soon. So, in my tie and dress shirt, I fell back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. None of these clothes felt right, why didn’t any of them feel right? Somehow too tight and too loose simultaneously, how was that possible? As I felt the sheets underneath my head wet from my tears, I ran my hand through my hair. Why was it that short? Was it always that short? It felt like there was nothing there. Had I really had the same haircut my entire life? Why would I care so much about that, I thought. It’s just hair. The tears tried, and failed, to stop.

The ambient lights of almost-midnight coming through the window weren’t enough to illuminate the ceiling at all, so all I stared at was a neutral shadow.

They must have been talking about me, downstairs in the living room. I knew my friends, I knew they cared about me, and Gabe had sounded worried. I cracked an ironic smile. He should have been. It wouldn’t have taken a genius to tell that things were not okay. I should have probably stood up and walked down there, better than to leave them guessing and worried. But what would I have said, if I did that? Don’t mind your good old friend Max bursting into tears just before New Year’s, it’s just a normal, run-of-the-mill, masculine existential crisis! Nothing to be concerned about.

I took in a deep breath, and felt the muscles across my body relax. It felt less like I had no more tears, but instead had run out of energy to shed them with. Five more minutes or so. I didn’t want to miss the ball dropping anyways, then I could drive home, and move forward with things. I blotted my face with my sleeve and slipped my arms, one at a time, into my suit coat again. It fit all wrong. The sleeves were too wide and the shoulders too tight. God damn it things were not okay.

The din of conversation picked up as I walked back down the stairs. The house was large, with dramatic ceilings in the entryway and living room, and I had disappeared into the furthest corner of the second floor where the noise of the party had completely diminished. Back in the living room, twenty or so people were gathered on the various couches before a frankly too-large plasma screen, watching the Times Square celebration. I knew about half of them. There were half-eaten bowls of popcorn and other snacks scattered as far as the eye could see, and a stereotypically large number of red solo cups littered about as well. One of those was probably mine, and I thought about looking for it to throw away, so that the host wouldn’t have had to, but I looked around at this four-story suburban McMansion with floor-to-ceiling windows and decided that I didn’t really care that much. This kid’s parents were probably lawyers or something.

“Max!” Gabe waved me over to where he and my other friends were sitting. The din of the party from when I’d left was at this point reduced to a mere hum, the energy of reckless college students dissipating into a gentler buzz.

I saw the look on Gabe’s face. It was awful of me to just abandon them like that, wasn’t it? They didn’t deserve that. But what do I tell them now? There was no way in hell that I was telling them what was going through my mind. I wasn’t even sure I understood it yet.

“Well, dummy? Are you going to sit down?” I heard a voice from beneath me.

I jumped, realizing that I had walked all the way over to them and then gotten lost in my own thoughts while standing above them. I looked down. Amber, with her cute pixie cut and acid-washed jeans, was sprawled nearly horizontally on the couch like it was a bean bag. She looked up at me with a heavy half-lidded smile. “Well?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” I said, plopping down and meeting eyes with her. “I’m going to be driving you home tonight, huh?”

She let out a laugh and then flopped even further down, nearly sliding off of the couch entirely. “No jackass I’ll walk.”

“Understood. I hope the coyotes don’t notice you.”

As she lay there giggling, I felt Gabe tap me on the shoulder. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “So you ok man?” I turned and saw him sitting there, eyes wide and looking into mine.

For the briefest moment I wanted to lay it all out. It had been building up all night. Even letting out the pressure during my little cry on the bed wasn’t enough, and I knew it. I was on borrowed time. I felt my clothes rubbing against a body that I found myself stuck in, and one that I felt so little control over as I heard myself eventually say “Yeah, I’m alright now. A little embarrassed that like everyone else changed out of their costumes though, and I didn’t.”

Gabe’s face softened slightly. Still, I could see that he wasn’t going to let this go. After, all, I did lie to him. “Oh. Well, you can go change now, if you want?”

I want to rip off these clothes and the skin that’s underneath them, I thought. I want to find out what beneath it all and why it’s in so much pain. Why it doesn’t fit right. “Eh, it’s only a minute or so until the ball drops, and I’m going home right after, so there’s no real point.”
“Ok, sure.” I went to turn back towards the television, but Gabe put a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, you know you can talk to me, right? We don’t have anything we have to hide from each other.”

Have you hated yourself since your first growth spurt, Gabe? Have you stared in the mirror and found that you don’t understand the face looking back? Have you ever looked at a girl, and just… I felt the tears threaten again. “I… Gabe I-”

“Had too much to drink?” Luis leaned forward from out of nowhere, face flushed with alcohol and the fading adrenaline of party games. “You’re a bit light, Max, we all know that. That’s why you had to wander off for a bit, go lie down? Wait!” He leaned in towards my face. “You didn’t puke anywhere, did you?”

“What, no, that wasn’t it! I’m DD anyways, remember?” I said. Have you ever looked at a girl? “No I just… listen can I talk about this later? Let me collect myself tonight, I promise I’ll explain things.”

“Ok yeah of course,” Gabe and Luis said on top of each other. Then Luis leaned a bit too far forward, slid down the back of the couch, and they ended up literally on top of each other. Gabe stuck his head out from the tangle while Luis rolled on the floor and I heard Amber cackling behind me. “You’re totally fine, dude,” Gabe said. “Do what you need to do, we’ll be here if you need.”

Have you ever stared in a mirror? The tears pushed back to the forefront, but, with the ruckus Luis was making there was far too much attention on our little group for me to start crying. I leaned back into the couch as far as I could, hugged a random throw pillow to my chest, and drew up my knees. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it. And I promise I won’t let you down.”

I felt Amber slide up next to me, still giggling. She looked at me, and I suddenly saw her expression change. “Wait wait wait,” she said. “Were you crying? Are you-”

“Yes Amber I’m fine! I already told the guys not to worry about it!”

She tilted her head, concern evident. I didn’t want to have to go through everything with her that I already did with Gabe, for god’s sake. I looked at her. I took a moment to really do so. Her face was one I knew well, an old friend. But, why was it like that? Did it have to be? What made it her face? I thought about the shapes and various angles. What made a face a face? What made a face… my face?

Someone else in the room shouted out, “Hey! They’re gonna drop the ball! We have to count down!”

Everyone snapped their attention to the television. I was glad to not have any eyes on me for a moment. Luis put an arm around my shoulder and swayed amiably as the whole room, some much more soberly than others, began to count down.

“Five!” I had good friends, but I was terrified of what might happen. What people would think.

“Four!” I wanted to curl up for a million years under a sheet a mile from anyone else. I wanted to stab out the eyes of everyone at the party so they couldn’t see me.

“Three!” Maybe I was drunker than I realized. Was it all just a delusion?

“Two!” Who betrayed Sergeant Pazzo to the Don, in the end?

“One!” No, something had to change. I couldn’t keep it up.

The whole room erupted into celebration, with poppers and noisemakers suddenly appearing out of nowhere. I hugged my pillow a little tighter to my chest.

“Happy new year, buddy,” Luis said, attempting to hand me champaign in a plastic party flute. “Let’s make sure it’s a better one than last year, eh?”

“Uhh, yep,” I said. “Listen, Luis, I can’t drink this right now. I’m ready to go.” I turned to Amber. “Are you ok with me taking you home now?”

She jumped up. “Yes, mister designated driver! Take me away in your chariot of-”

“Awesome,” I said. I walked away from the group. “Let me get my coat.”

My name was Maxwell Cuevas. And on New Year’s Eve, nine days before my twenty-first birthday, I realized that I was a girl.

R_B_Docs

Hello! I'm Docs, I hope you enjoy the story!