I heard the door open behind me, and turned in my chair to look at it. “Hi, Mom!” I said brightly, upon seeing her enter the office.

She gave me a glance that was almost a glare, taking in my unkempt hair, my ruffled hoodie, and the large bandage that covered my cheek, then she turned to the principal. “What is it this time?” she asked.

“Come in, Mrs. Wilson,” the principal, Mr. Carlson, replied, waving her inside. “Take a seat.”

My mother sighed, walked in, and shut the door, then sat down facing the principal, without looking at me. “So?”

“I’m afraid this young man here has been fighting again,” he said. “According to witnesses, he was in a scuffle with three other students, and then when the teachers tried to intervene he said, quote, ‘Fuck off and mind your own business’ to them.”

I thought I saw the barest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of Mom’s lips, but then she nodded. “I see. And who were the other three students?”

“Unfortunately, they have yet to be identified,” Mr. Carlson answered. “They ran away as soon as they saw the teachers approach, and your son is refusing to say who they were.”

“None of your goddamn business,” I said casually. “This is between me and them, there’s no need for y’all to intervene.”

He looked at me, narrowing his eyes, and then back at my mom. “See what I mean? No respect for authority.” He paused. “To be honest, the only reason he hasn’t been suspended yet is that he’s an honours student, despite his attitude. I’d hate to ruin his future prospects, but if this goes on, I will have to.”

“Who gives a shit about that,” I said. “This school is terrible anyway.”

The principal turned to me again, and raised his finger in warning. “Now listen here--”

“Mr. Carlson, do you mind if I have a couple words with my son?” Mom interrupted him. “In private,” she added, when he turned back to her.

“Of course,” he said. He stood up from his chair and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Mom turned to me, and her stern expression softened. “Sorry about calling you my son. I had to.” She licked her thumb and rubbed at something I apparently had on my forehead.

I sighed. “I know, Mom,” I said. “And sorry about this.”

“You don’t need to use your boy voice now,” she said with a smile. “So what really happened?”

I concentrated on moving the muscle in my throat just so, and slipped into my girl voice. “I did fight with those guys, that much is true. But they were harassing a group of freshies, trying to get their lunch money, so what was I supposed to do?”

She tilted her head to the side. “Call a teacher?”

“By the time someone got there, they would’ve been gone,” I said, shaking my head. “The only way I could be useful was to beat them up. So I did.”

“And got hit in the face for your trouble,” she said. She raised her hand and touched the bandage that covered my cheek, and I grimaced and flinched back a bit: it hurt. “You need to be more careful about this, Emily, you don’t want to get a scar or something like that.”

“Oh, I am careful. It was just three of them, I knew I could take ‘em,” I replied confidently. “Self-defence lessons are coming in handy.”

She smiled again. “That they are. So, who were they?”

“Just three of Troy McPearson’s cronies. That’s why it’s no use telling the teachers about it,” I answered with a wave of my hand. “After all, he has Daddy Superintendent to cover his ass. Best to let sleeping dogs lie.”

“I get it,” she nodded. There was a brief moment of silence, then she continued, “So, I’ll see you this afternoon. Your appointment is at five, if I’m not mistaken.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be home at about three, so I’ll have time to change and take the car there.”

“Okay.” She gave me a brief hug, then she stood up, walked to the door, and opened it. “We’re done,” she told the principal.

“Good. So?” he asked in return.

“Grounded for a week. Maybe two, depending.”

His eyebrows rose. “Depending on what?”

“If I get any more lip at home.”

“Alright,” he nodded, and shook Mom’s hand. “I hope next time I’ll see you it’ll be under better circumstances.” Then he turned to me. “Go along now, Mr. Wilson. And let this be the last time you get sent to my office, young man.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, my voice deep and gruff again, as I stood up and left the office.

I waved goodbye to Mom and started walking along the corridor, towards the cafeteria. It was quite late, most students were already done with their lunch and were milling aimlessly in the corridors; hopefully there would be something left.

As I was rounding a corner, I bumped into someone.

“What the fuck! Watch where you’re going!”

I knew that voice. “Oh, hello there, Woody. What’s up?”

The blonde-haired boy glared at me. “It’s Woods, Wilson. Or Mr. Woods to you.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” I replied. “Howdy howdy howdy.”

“I hate you, you know,” he said, still glaring.

“The feeling is mutual.”

Josh Woods. One year younger than me (I was a junior while he was a sophomore), he’d transferred into our school near the end of the previous year, and had tried to set himself up as top dog right from the start. And we’d immediately butted heads. I didn’t want anyone to encroach into my territory, because in the almost two years since starting high school I’d managed to find a delicate balance with Troy McPearson and his gang: I left Troy alone, and he did the same in turn, and didn’t complain when I beat up some of his friends.

And then Josh came in and upset that balance. Ever since school had started up again four months before, it had been almost a free-for-all: Troy trying to secure himself again at the top of the food chain – he could tolerate one person defying him, but two was absolutely out of the question – while Josh and I kept our heads down and tried to avoid trouble. Unless trouble came looking for us, of course, or if fighting was unavoidable, as it had been earlier that day.

While I had a grudging respect for Josh – as far as I knew he’d never started a fight, and had never bullied someone weaker than himself – we also cordially hated each other. It was a wonder we hadn’t come to blows yet, but it would probably happen soon enough: when two headstrong boys are trying to establish dominance, that’s the only way it can end.

Well, a boy and a deeply closeted trans girl. Same difference.

Josh tilted his head to the side and looked at me, narrowing his eyes. “What’s with the bandage? You been in a fight?”

“Just three idiots, nothing I couldn’t handle,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand. “Why? Are you worried about my health?”

“No, I’m worried about someone taking you down before I can do it myself.”

I flashed him a cheeky grin. “I would really like to see you try, you know. I’m betting it will be fun, sitting on top of you while you beg for mercy.”

“Well unfortunately I’m not gay, so I don’t think I’d enjoy that,” he replied. “How about you?”

“I’m not gay either,” I answered truthfully, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

Josh shrugged. “Shame. You’re kinda cute, I bet you’d be a hit with the boys.”

I felt the tips of my ears start to burn in embarrassment; luckily my longish hair covered them, so Josh didn’t notice.

“There’s nothing wrong with boys liking other boys, you know,” I said.

“Never said there was.” He took a step back and raised his hands. “Perish the thought. Love is love.”

I blinked. “Wait, you serious?”

“As a heart attack, Wilson. ‘slong as everyone is consenting, everything’s fine. Girls with boys, boys with girls, girls with girls, boys with boys…” He paused, and then grinned. “Me with your mom…”

I felt blood rise to my head. “Why you little…” I said, stepping forward and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “Ya wanna go? Wanna take this outside?”

“Maybe some other time,” he chuckled. “As for right now, I’m just happy I got a rise out of you.”

He glanced around, and I looked around too; everyone had stopped, and was looking at us, including a teacher, who was approaching us at a half jog.

“Alright, what’s this then?” the teacher said. “Is there some kind of trouble?”

Josh raised his hands again. “No trouble at all, teach. None whatsoever.”

The teacher nodded, and turned to me. “Wilson?”

“…No trouble,” I said, letting go of Josh’s shirt.

“Alright. Don’t let me catch you fighting again.”

“Oh, don’t worry, you won’t, teach,” Josh replied.

“No, wait, hold on a second,” the teacher said. “You mean you won’t fight again, or I won’t catch you fighting again?”

“Who can say?” Josh said, turning around and walking down the corridor. “Guess we’ll see. Have a nice day, Wilson!” he continued, in a singsong voice, before turning a corner and disappearing.

God, did I hate him.

-----

I looked at my watch as I walked up the driveway to the front door: three oh five. Very slightly later than planned, but school buses are seldom precise in their schedule.

I opened the front door, walked inside, slipped into my girl voice, and loudly announced: “I’m home!”

And I braced myself.

A red-haired blur ran out of the kitchen and flung himself at me, knocking the breath out of my lungs and almost tackling me to the ground.

“Emily! Hi!” my little brother exclaimed, hugging me tight.

“Hi yourself, Tony,” I replied, smiling and mussing his hair. “It’s nice to see you this full of energy. Did you have fun at preschool?”

“I did!” he said. “I ran and played and read and even coloured!”

“Mmhmm, that’s nice.”

“Was high school fun?”

“Ehhhh, nothing really important happened today,” I replied.

“She was in a fight again!” my mother shouted from the kitchen.

“Hey! No snitching!” I shouted back, then turned back to Tony, who was looking at me wide-eyed.

“Were you really?” he asked.

I sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I was.”

Tony extended his hand up towards my face, rising to his tip-toes, and I bent over slightly to let him reach it easily; he placed his palm over the bandage I had on my cheek. I grimaced slightly, but did not flinch.

“Are you hurt?”

“Just a little bit,” I reassured him. “It’ll be healed by tomorrow.”

He kept looking at me for a while, then said. “You shouldn’t fight. Fighting is bad.”

I sighed again. “I know, bro, but--”

“And you’re a girl,” he cut me off. “Girls don’t fight.”

I blinked in surprise, but then smiled and wrapped him in a hug. “Girls fight too sometimes. When they have to protect someone.”

“Is that what you did today?”

“Yeah,” I replied, breaking the embrace. “At times, you have no choice.” I paused. “And then there’s people like Josh Woods.”

“I know that name,” my little brother said; and it was true, I’d mentioned Josh before in conversations with my family. “Is he a bad guy?”

I nodded. “Yes, he’s a baaaaaaaaaaad guy,” I replied, drawing out the word. “I would even say he’s… A villain.”

Tony gasped. “A villain!” He’d learned that word a few weeks prior, and it had quickly become his favourite.

“He’s my mortal enemy,” I continued. “He’s the Lex Luthor to my Superman, he’s the Joker to my Batman, he’s the Doom to my Reed Richards, he’s…” I tried to think of another example.

“He’s the Catra to your She-Ra?” Tony asked.

I blinked. Oh, right, that show we’d just started watching together the previous week, we were up to episode five or six. Well, Josh was a spiteful, sneaky little bastard, who did everything he could to get a rise out of me; he wasn’t a girl, true, but that was beside the point.

“That’s right,” I nodded again. “He’s the Catra to my She-Ra.”

“Well, if he comes for you I will protect you!” Tony said, standing tall and puffing out his chest. “I will beat him up!”

I smiled, and mussed his hair again. “Thank you, kiddo.”

Mom walked into the living room, drying her hands on her apron. “What was that about Josh?” she asked.

“Ran into him in the corridors just after you’d left,” I explained. “He was his usual self, and I lost my temper a bit.”

“You didn’t--”

“No, we didn’t fight. This time,” I said. “I can’t guarantee I won’t fight him the next time.”

She put her hand on my shoulder. “Do what you need to do, but be careful, Emily.”

I smiled. “I always am. And besides, I have Tony to protect me.”

“Yeah!” my brother cheered.

My mother smiled down at him, and then turned to me. “You better hurry along now, or you risk missing your appointment.”

I nodded. “I know, I was just about to go get changed.”

Mom nodded back at me, and after waving Tony goodbye I walked up the stairs towards my room. Along the way I passed my sister’s room and saw the door was open, so I poked my head in.

“Hi, Chloe!” I said.

She was sitting cross-legged on her chair in front of her desk, doing homework while aimlessly twirling a pen as she always did when she concentrated, but she looked up at me and pulled down her earphones when I called out to her. “Oh, hi, sis,” she replied. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much, I just came back from school and I was about to head out again. Need me to buy anything while I’m out?”

She thought about it for a bit. “New guitar strings?” she said. “The ones I have are almost completely worn out.”

“Sorry, I’m going to the clinic, the music store is too far out of my way. But I can drive you to the mall on Saturday so you can buy what you need,” I offered.

She smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Okay, see you later!”

“Bye!”

I ducked into my room, closed the door, quickly shed my hoodie-and-jeans combo, and critically looked at myself in the mirror. I really liked what I saw: the hormones had been working their magic, and after nearly a year and a half on them, I definitely had curves. Maybe not as pronounced as other girls my age would have, but my breasts were a respectable B cup, and my hips had a nice rounded shape to them.

I didn’t know how long I could keep the charade up, to be honest; while changing for gym wasn’t a problem – I had a doctor’s note that excused me from the class – sooner or later someone would notice I had boobs, even through my oversized hoodie. I already had to wear a sports bra to hide them a bit, and to keep them from distracting me by bouncing around as I went through my day.

And, to be honest, I really wanted to just fling aside my depression cocoon, and show myself to the world. To say hey, it’s me. I’m Emily. I’m a girl.

I sighed. Six more months. That was the deadline I’d given myself: in six months, Troy McPearson would graduate, and I would be rid of him for good. I could come out, and spend my senior year as a girl, before moving on to college.

Six more months.

I just had to be careful about it. To avoid anyone at school discovering who I truly was. So far, no one outside my immediate family knew, and we had to keep it that way.

But enough admiring myself in the mirror, I had places to be.

I quickly undressed, removing every shred of clothing I had on my body, and dressed back up in the girl clothes I kept stashed in the wardrobe in my room. For this outing I chose a black, knee-length skirt with black, thick tights (it was still winter, after all), a black, long-sleeved shirt with a red sweater on top, and a black leather jacket to complete the look.

Once again, I looked at myself, posing a bit.

Yep. I was definitely cute.

I quickly put on some make-up – practice had slowly made me perfect in applying it, though I had to work around the bandage on my cheek – then untied my ponytail and brushed out my shoulder-length hair, and left my room.

“Looking good, sis!” Chloe called from her room, giving me a thumbs-up as she saw me pass in front of her door. I smiled at her, and made my way back downstairs.

“You look really nice,” Mom said when she saw me. “All set? Got everything?”

“Yep,” I nodded, grabbing the folder with my medical records from the living room cupboard where I kept it. “I just need to put on my shoes and I’ll be ready.”

“Alright,” she nodded, and handed me the car keys – despite being seventeen, I still didn’t have my own wheels, and I had to rely on hers to get around. “Be careful on the road, and call when you get there. And when you leave to come back.”

I nodded again. “I’ll text you,” I said. I put on my shoes, and was off.

“Bye, Emily!” Tony said, waving at me.

“See ya later, kiddo!”

-----

An hour and a half later, I was sitting in the doctor’s office at the clinic, while my endocrinologist looked over the latest blood work I’d brought him.

To be honest, having to drive so far – it was a full hour’s drive to the clinic from my house – was a bit of a bother, but this doctor was the best and most knowledgeable about trans issues in the state. And besides, being so far away from my hometown meant I had an additional layer of security: there was much less risk of being spotted by someone I knew.

“Alright, Emily, these levels look good,” the doctor said, placing the sheet of paper on his desk. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, nothing unusual,” I replied.

He nodded. “That’s to be expected, you’ve been on E for nearly eighteen months. You’re well past the initial adjustment period; any side effects would’ve shown themselves by now.” He paused. “How’s the… Development? If you feel comfortable discussing it, of course.”

I shrugged. “It’s fine, really. Breasts are growing steadily, and so’s my butt.” I hesitated. “Though I do wish they were a bit quicker about that.”

“I see,” he said. He picked up the print-out again, and gave it another once-over. “Well, like I said, your levels look fine… But they could still go a bit higher, you’re still below the safety margin. And that could help in getting what you want.” He looked up at me. “Wanna try?”

I tried to keep a straight face as I replied, “Yeah, let’s try that.”

The doctor tilted his head to the side. “Oh, come on, you don’t need to pretend with me, I know you’re thrilled.”

I felt my lips draw back into a wide smile, and I chuckled. “You’re right, I’m really happy about this.”

“There we go,” he said, smiling back. “I’ll send the prescription to your pharmacy, as usual. You do another blood draw in three months to check your levels and I’ll tell you if you need to adjust the dosage again. If nothing else changes, I’ll see you in six months.”

I nodded, and stood up. “Alright. Thank you, doc.”

“You’re welcome, Emily. Be careful on your way home,” he replied, standing up too, and shaking my hand. I quickly gathered my things, and left his office.

As I walked through the clinic’s corridor towards the car park, I felt as if I was floating. Hot damn, he’d actually increased my dosage! That probably would’ve given my tits and ass the final push they needed to fill out properly. So when I finally came out, in six months, I would be hot. Super hot. Hot as fuck.

Watch out, boys, here comes Emily!

I turned a corner, and bumped into someone.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “Are you…”

I looked up, and found myself staring at my arch-nemesis Josh Woods.

I felt my blood run cold.

What the hell was Woods doing here?

Come on, Emily, straight face. Do not react. It’s not like he’s going to recognise you. Play it cool.

“Eep,” I said.

No, not like that.

Woods gave me a long hard look: from the expression on his face, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“You…” he began, but I didn’t let him finish.

“Sorry!” I shouted, quickly manoeuvred past him, and ran out of the building and into the car park.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

I got into Mom’s car, fumbled with the key a bit, and turned it on.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

Without really paying attention, I tore out of the parking lot and kept driving in a blind panic.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

Ten minutes and two miles away I pulled over to the side of the road, turned off the car, and took a deep breath.

“Fuck.”