Settling back into sleep wasn’t easy to do. Jen sat on the edge of the bed, holding me. I never wanted her to let go.

“You’ll be alright, Kat. I’m not going anywhere,” she repeated, reassuring me for the dozenth time tonight. “Boy, girl, either, neither, I’ll always love you, okay?” She stroked my head soothingly, rocking me gently. 

When sleep finally found me, it was in her arms, and mercifully dreamless.

==========

“Are you sure you’re feeling up to going back, Kat? You know I won’t make you, and even the Bureau agreed that after what happened yesterday, delaying attendance seemed like a good idea…”

“I’ll be okay.” I zipped up my skirt, buttoned my blouse, and started on the necktie. “I’ve been through worse. I’ll be okay.” If I told myself I’d be okay enough times, I was sure it would be true. It’d worked in the past, right? 

Jen bit her lip for a moment, frowning deeply. “If you’re certain, honey. I’ll go make something quick for breakfast. What are you hungry for?”

“I’m not really hungry,” I pulled my blazer on, checking myself in the mirror. Looks good. Pretty. Cute. All the world was ever going to see me as ever again. A girl, a woman… something to be hunted down and taken.

I shuddered violently at that. The idea of what those guys could have done to me… what any guy could do to me…

“Kat, honey…” Jen put a hand on my shoulder, and wiped my eyes with a tissue. When did I start crying?

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m… I’ll be fine, I promise. I just.. I just need to be distracted.” 

“There’s other distractions besides forcing yourself to go to school, Kat. I know that a good mo-- guardian is supposed to make sure you go every day, but… I think this counts as extenuating circumstances.”

I met her eyes for a moment. Warm, caring, concerned. “Okay…”

“We never did go shopping for more clothes for you yesterday. Did you still want to do that? We could make a day out of it!” Jen forced a cheerful tone that didn’t do much to mask how worried she must be.

I don’t want to worry her even more… not after she still accepted me here after I ran away.

“Sure,” I nodded. “I um… I could use some stuff… the ones you loaned me are too tight.” It was true… the underwear and bra she’d given me were pinching my skin and it was really uncomfortable.

“Yeah, yeah… rub it in that my daughter has bigger boobs than me, why don’tcha?” Jen laughed.

Her daughter. My stomach did some kind of swirly loop-de-loop, and a little flicker of warmth crept to my cheeks. She called me her daughter. Why did that make me so happy?

I’d go back to being a boy tomorrow at midnight. Right? Then I couldn’t be her daughter anymore. I’d be her son. I recoiled from that thought. Sons were broken things. Wrong. Bad.

I wanted to be good.

==========

I really shouldn’t be here. This place is for women, not me. I struggled, arms bent at weird angles behind my back, fumbling with the clasps on this stupid bra. It looked so cute when the attendant brought it. Why was it so freaking difficult to put on?!

“Kat, are you OK?” Jen asked from outside the changing room.

“Y-yeah, I’m okay,” HAH! Got it! I beamed at my reflection and basked in my victory over the damnable bra hooky thingies. Now came the more awkward part. ‘Adjusting’ everything into the cups. It felt weird to grab a handful of my chest and re-situate it in the soft cup, but here I was, doing it anyway.

I looked back at the mirror. There was a very pretty girl in a black bra and underwear. The little white cat pattern didn’t escape me. Kat. Cat. It was cute.

I realized the girl in the mirror was smiling. I’m smiling. I like being cute.

Crap…

“I… I think I’ll get these,” I said, holding out the pile of my choices from the overall selection I’d been brought. “Um, these are the tags for the ones I’m wearing. I took them off, like you said.”

Jen took the pile, and the tags. “Good girl, Let’s go pay for the ones you’re wearing. Then we can go look for some guy stuff, sound good?”

I blushed. Those two words had hit hard. Good girl. Why did they feel so… good? Ugh, I’m so lame. They’re just words. Not even particularly clever words. It sounded like she was praising a pet instead of a person. I’m not really a cat, you know?!

I huffed softly and followed her to the registers to pay. 

“Woah, I love your contacts,” the cashier girl said, staring at me in awe.

“Oh, um… thanks? I uh… I like your earrings,” I mumbled, admiring the line of hoops trailing from the top of her left ear down to the lobe, each connected by a thin chain. It looked really pretty. I knew I couldn’t have anything like that, though. I’d get totally distracted playing with the shiny dangly bit of the chain hanging from the last piercing. The way the light caught it was just so… 

I shook my head, realizing I had been staring at her earring like a weirdo. Had cashier-girl even said anything back? I didn’t catch it, if so.

“C’mon, Kat,” Jen said cheerfully as she took my hand, leading me out of the store.

“Seems like you’re getting the hang of trading compliments with other girls,” Jen teased playfully as we walked through the mall.

“I wasn’t! I just… she said something nice and I thought I should say something nice too.”

“So you were trading compliments with another girl,” Jen teased again, nudging me.

“I… I guess I was.” I blushed, watching my feet now instead of where I was walking.

“Hey, it’s okay. You did fine. I was just thinking it was cute.”

I nodded. Cute. Another cute thing about me. 

“Did you still want to get some guys’ clothing, Kat?”

I nodded. “Y-yeah, I do.”

“Alright… let’s head to menswear then!” Jen smiled, taking the lead.

==========

Somehow, I feel even more out of place here than I did in the lingerie store.

There’s a few guys milling around the racks, and I can feel their eyes on me every time they try to disguise ‘checking me out’ as ‘investigating some article of clothing.’ You aren’t subtle, guys. No pair of pants is that interesting.

“How about these?” Jen asks, holding up a baggy looking pair of men’s carpenter jeans.

“Uh, sure,” I mumble, not really looking at them.

“Would you prefer these instead?” Jen asks, swapping the carpenter jeans for a simpler, less baggy cut.

“Sure, yeah,” I mumble again.

“Kat… are you alright?” She frowns, hanging the second pair of jeans back on the rack.

“Yeah… yeah, totally fine,” I lied.

“Come on, sweetheart. I can tell something is wrong.”

“I just… I don’t feel like I belong here,” I sighed heavily, trying to avert my eyes from all the boyish clothing around me.

“You know… female bodied people can wear boy’s clothes, too.” 

I nodded. I’d seen some homeless girls before wearing men’s clothing. Whatever keeps you warm…

She let the silence drag for a minute while I shifted uncomfortably. “Do you at least want to try anything on, see how you feel then?”

“Well I guess it can’t hurt, right?” 

“Right,” Jen nodded, leading the way back to the changing rooms. Along the way she collected a few pairs of jeans and a couple different shirts. “I’ll wait outside the dressing rooms if you want to show me each outfit?” 

“Sure,” I nod and step away into the changing room stall, being sure to lock the door behind me. It feels weird to disrobe now that I have feminine underwear beneath my clothing.

I shake my head and pull on the first pair of jeans. It takes a good bit of wiggling to get them up over my butt, and even then they feel uncomfortably tight in the butt, hips, and thighs. The only place they aren’t too tight is the crotch, in which there’s just this empty void that reminds me of what I once had. This feels wrong. I grab one of the t-shirts and pull it on. It hangs completely shapelessly off my frame, except where it’s hugging tightly across my chest.

I take a deep breath and look at my reflection in the mirror again. All I can see is a very uncomfortable looking girl in ill-fitting mens clothing. Something about this just feels… wrong. The rough fabric against my skin, the way it hangs off of me in places while crushing me in others. It looks awful. I quickly undress and change back into the clothes I wore here. The girls jeans and t-shirt fit me so much better. I take a look at my reflection and smile. Wait, why do I feel so much more comfortable in girls clothes than in guys? I… aren’t I supposed to be a guy?

I shove that thought down, and bundle up the other outfits, completely untested. Jen raises a brow as I step back out moments later.

“Something wrong hon?”

“I don’t like them,” I said honestly. “They… feel wrong.” That was the best way I could explain it. 

“Oh,” Jen smiled understandingly and put the clothes on the ‘return’ rack next to the dressing room. “No problem, Kat. Do you want to head out, or keep looking?”

“Let’s just go,” I mumble, hooking my thumbs into the almost nonexistent pockets of my jeans. Stupid lack of real pockets. 

“Alright hon.” She smiles and leads the way out of the store, freeing me from the weird looks the guys there are giving me, and the feeling of wrongness that pervades the place.

On our way out towards the exit, we pass by a storefront that looks particularly girly. Part of me wants to ask Jen to stop, but I don’t. It’s not like I want to…

Oh... well, I mean… that’s kind of pretty. There’s a simple black dress hanging on one of the display mannequins. There’s a pair of heels at the foot of the mannequin. Those look cute too. I wonder how they’d look on— No! Nope nope nope. I can feel my face flush, and Jen laughs beside me.

“Wanna see if they have one in your size to try on?” she asks.

“I… I…” I swallow the lump in my throat, “....yes…”

Jen beams and pulls me into the store. It doesn’t take us terribly long to find the rack of those dresses, and find one in my size. Then it’s over to get the shoes. Before long I’m standing in the dressing room, staring at the hangar on the hook on the back of the door, the dress looming like an intimidating spectre. Well, Kat, you got yourself in here…

I pull off my outfit, laying it on the bench in the corner of the stall, then grab the dress. How does this even go on? There’s a zipper in the back… okay, so I guess I unzip that. Check. Then… pull it up over my body? Okay. Done… now I just have to get it zipped. 

I am way more flexible than I used to be. I basically fold my arm behind my back to grab the zipper and bring it up. Okay. That’s done and… wow. My reflection looks great. I look great. I do a little turn, checking out how the fabric clings to my upper body, and flares out a bit around my hips, coming to an end at about mid thigh. Swish swish swish. I smile and watch the fabric sway for a moment. Hm, I wonder how it’ll look with the shoes?

I fiddle with the straps for a moment, finally figuring out how to get my feet in, then I buckle them again. Standing up is… interesting. I have a moment where I feel like I’m wobbly and I’m going to fall, but suddenly my sense of balance kicks in and I feel fine. Well, fine for standing still at least. Walking is going to be a challenge, if the two steps over to the mirror are any indication.

But wow. I can’t help but blush a bit when I see my reflection with the dress and the shoes. 

“How’s it going in there, hon?” Jen asks from outside the curtain.

“Great! Er, I mean good. Good.” Smooth.

“Come out and show me!” Jen says eagerly.

I take a deep, calming breath, and brace myself to step out. Jen’s eyes go wide and she stares at me.

“Um… does it look okay?” I ask, one arm across my back, holding the other hanging at my side. I know that it pushes my chest out a bit, and I hope that helps me look more feminine. Wait. Do I hope that? … Yeah… Crap, yeah I do.

“You look great!” Jen gushed, circling me slightly. She made little comments like “Oh my god…” and “Wow…” as she made her lap. I felt more and more self conscious. 

“W-well this was ridiculous. I’ll go change so we can leave. I still have homework to do…” I fidget with the dress a little.

“Do you like how it looks on you?” Jen asks.

I… I really do. I nod. 

“Do you want to get it?”

I nod again.

“Well then,” she smiles, “go change back into your street clothes and we’ll take that to the register. Heaven help whoever gives you a reason to wear that out. You’ll knock them dead.”

I hurry back into the dressing room to change, my face on fire. Thanks a lot, Jen… now I’m going to be imagining situations that might let me wear that. A quick change later and we’re on our way out of the store with a new dress and shoes for ‘fancy’ occasions.

I glance down at the watch on my wrist. Do I even want to know what percentage it’s at? No. Not really. Besides, I think I’ve got to accept that, despite everything that’s happened, I kind of… don’t want to go back anymore.

Oh. Wow. Yeah… I don’t actually want to go back.

I think… I think I’m really happy being Kat.