It doesn’t take me long to reach her office and knock on the door. Mrs. Lynn quickly says, “James, come right in.”

Opening the door, I see her gesture to the chair in front of her desk. I shut the door behind me, and then take a seat.

“Hi, James. Now, before I say anything, you need to know that you can’t ever tell anyone about what we talk about, nor about the test. If you do, you will be arrested and never see your parents again. Are we clear?”

“Of course.”

“Good,” she says, “I’m glad you understand. You’re the first to be tested this year, so if you pass the test and decide to make the change, it’ll be a little harder for you. Expect some nasty comments and/or bullying. It happens every year. Now, you don’t have to take the test, you can opt for the change if you so desire. It’s rare, but it does happen. Do you want to take this option? If you do, your family will receive an extra $1000 every single month in addition to everything else they’d normally get, and you’d receive a monthly allowance of $500 until you turn 18 or graduate college, which the government will also pay for. Is that something you’d like to do?”

At this point, I was in shock and unsure of what to say. That’s a lot of money for a 10-year-old, and while my family isn’t poor by any means, the extra money would come in handy. I’ve already said I’m not really happy as I am, and all the bonuses are a definite plus. She quietly waits while I consider the option.

Several minutes later, I came to a decision. As life-changing as it might be, as much hardship as some of the more opinionated people in school might give me about it, and as much as Mom and Dad might not like it, I tell her, “I’ll make the change.”

Mrs. Lynn told me that she would call my mother and father to explain my decision and get their decision about it. I just hope that Lucas will keep the teasing and embarrassing of me to a minimum, and keeps his word to beat up anyone that bullies me. I’m not worried about being physically assaulted when I come back to school. The law is very clear about that, and it’s an instant trip for the offender to a rehabilitation academy.

“The change is for the good of the world,” she says. “No one can force you to do this, and I hope you don’t feel pressured to agree to it. Are you sure about your decision?”

I nod. “Absolutely positive.”

She gives me a pass to go back to class, and as I’m leaving her office, she picks up her phone. I spend the rest of the day in a daze. I almost didn’t get off the school bus when I reached our stop, and if my brother wasn’t there, I probably would have been on it when the bus reached the yard.

Mom and Dad were waiting at the kitchen table when we walked in, and Mom says, “Boys, come in here and take a seat.”

Setting down our backpacks, We walk over and take a seat. Dad then starts up the conversation. “Lucas, your brother opted to make the change.” Lucas nods, and glances at me, but doesn’t say anything. Dad continues, “James, what is all this about making the change? You have to volunteer for it, they can’t make you do it.”

I merely nod in response. There’s not really much I can say about it. To me, it kind of makes sense for me to do it since, from my point of view, it’s all upside and no downside to changing, if I do.

Mom asks, “Are you totally sure that this is something you want to do?”

Again, I merely nod in response.

Dad rubs his eyes tiredly and sighs. “Alright, I’ll call Mrs. Lynn and tell her that you have our permission to do it.” He pulls out his cell phone and tells her the decision. Once he hangs up, he continues, “Well, we have an appointment to take you to the hospital tomorrow morning. Now, let’s eat dinner.”

We ate dinner and had my birthday cake, then I opened my presents. Nothing like I’d usually get since Mom and Dad got me a prepaid debit card. I wonder why and look at them questioningly.

Mom seems to get what I’m tacitly asking and says, “We didn’t want to get you anything that you wouldn’t or couldn’t use if you decided to make the change.”

A little after 9, Lucas and I were sent to bed since we have to get up early to be at the hospital at 7 in the morning.

My mom comes in and wakes me up at 5:30, then goes across the hall to wake Lucas. Anyone who has failed the test can also go. Parents are mandatory, but I’m happy to see that Lucas is coming along as well. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure if he would. Of course, this could be simply him using this as an excuse to get out of going to school. We all shower, get dressed, eat, and are ready just before 6:30. We all get into the car, and Dad drives us to the hospital. I have to say that this ride isn’t very long, but feels much longer with how quiet everyone is.

We arrive just before 7:00 and meet Mrs. Lynn at the entrance to the hospital, who introduces us to the man standing beside her. “This is Doctor Reais. His team will be handling your case.”

He shakes everyone’s hand, and we follow him back to his office. He explains that this is straightforward and a rather simple procedure as well as 100% safe. He also informs my family that they will not be allowed to visit while I’m in a coma since it can be rather traumatizing for family members to see. Once he’s given us what I am sure is a rote script, he gestures for me to stand and follow him. I give Mom and Dad a hug and tell them, “See you soon.” Then I fist bump Lucas. As I’m walking out, Lucas surprises me when he suddenly runs up, hugs me, and says, “I’ll see you when you wake up, sis.” Honestly, I get a lump in my throat from that, and I’ve never loved him more than I do right this second. Lucas can be a pain at times, but I know for a fact how many times he’s defended me.

The doctor leads me to an exam room where I change into a gown, and they check me over. Blood pressure, temperature, you know, the usual things. The doctor leaves, and a nurse then takes me to my room, has me get situated in bed, and places an IV port in each arm. I’m wondering what’s going to happen now when another doctor comes in and tells me what he will be doing. I nod, then lay my head back against the pillow as I do my best to relax. I may have chosen to do this, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not nervous.

The doctor asks, “Ready?” I nod, and he starts the IV in my right arm. Soon, I feel as if I’m floating. Within another minute, everything goes dark.

　◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇

I slowly wake up to someone calling, “James,” repeatedly. After the last “James, come on sweetheart, you need to wake up.”

Disoriented, I crack open my eyes and groggily murmur, “Where?” I don’t even recognize my voice. It’s much softer with none of the pitchiness I had before.

She softly strokes my hair and smiles reassuringly. “You’re still in the hospital, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

I yawn, stretch and finally answer, “Mmm~ Okay, I suppose,” as my mind finally catches up and reminds me of the situation. I reach down under the covers to touch between my legs to confirm the obvious. Yep, I’m a girl.

Mom hands me a package and says, “The hospital gave us this for you to wear home. Once the doctor confirms that you’re okay to go home, we’ll go shopping for your clothes.”

“Alright.”

I open the package and take a look. Sorting through the contents, I see one pair of white panties with pink lace trim, what looks to be half of a green tank top (as in, my stomach will show when I put it on), a white training bra, a pair of rather small blue jean shorts, ankle socks that are white with red-trimmed ruffles, and finally, a pair of pink and white sports shoes. Taking the items, I walk into the bathroom and undress. I look myself over in the mirror once I have.

Admittedly, I’m quite cute and look a lot like my mom did when she was my age. My features are much softer, cheekbones are more pronounced, and it seems as if my eyes are larger. All in all, I’d have to say that I’m quite pretty, a 7.5 or 8 out of 10. I also have breast buds. Not that they are much to look at right now, but they are there. Apparently, they are able to make your hair and nails grow in the time you are asleep because my wavy, red hair flows down to the middle of my back, and my nails are much longer.

After a few minutes of looking at myself, I take a quick shower, and after I dry myself off, I begin to get dressed. Surprisingly, everything fits perfectly.

Once I return, she smiles at me and says, “Sweetheart, you look very cute. Okay, we have a decision to make. You can’t go around being called James anymore. So, what do you want your new name to be?”

I draw a blank and shrug. “I don’t know. What would you like to call me?”

She smiles at me and doesn’t miss a beat to reply, “Bethany Anne. Bethany was my mother’s name, and Anne was your father’s mother’s name.”

I nod and have to admit, I like the name. “Then, Bethany Anne it is, or how about Beth as a nickname?”

Mom smiles as she leans in to hug me for a moment. Once she lets me go, she has me sit down so that she can tame my wild hair. While she does, a man comes in and asks, “Were you able to decide on a name?”

Mom gently nudges me, and I tell him, “Bethany Anne.”

He smiles and says, “That’s a cute name, and it suits you. Alright, I’ll inform them of your new name, and your new birth certificate will be mailed to you. Have a nice day.” Without waiting for a reply, he turns and leaves the room. Mom finishes brushing out my tangled hair, then puts it up in a ponytail.

Thankfully, Doctor Reias didn’t take long to get here. He performs some checks and tells me that I have to see a gynecologist before I can leave. He has a nurse come in, and she takes me down two floors. Walking a short distance, we enter an exam room, and she tells me I need to don a gown.

When the doctor comes in, she palpitates my breasts, and checks my groin, too. Thankfully, everything seems to be normal. Then she squirts some cold gel on my stomach, uses a wand-like thing, and nods to herself as she looks at the screen and moves it around. Once she finishes, she wipes off the gel as she explains that she was looking at my womb and ovaries to confirm that they formed properly, which, thankfully, they did. Then she tells me I can get dressed and says that she’ll return in a moment.

A few minutes later, I’m dressed, and she returns soon after with a syringe. Holding it up to show me, she says, “This is a combination of things to help kick start your mental transition. It also makes it much easier for you to accept your change and acclimatize to being female. You’ll have to come in once a week for a shot of this for the next month.”

Apparently, the shot has something in it that makes it easier for me to think of myself as female since the hormones that would normally accomplish it were not present until very recently. She cleans a spot on my shoulder with an alcohol wipe and gives me the shot. She smiles at me and says, “There, that wasn’t too bad, now was it? The shot will need about half an hour to reach full effect. Alright then, with that, you’re all done, and you can leave anytime you’re ready.”

I waste no time hopping off the table. Mom tells her, “Thank you,” takes my hand, and we head out to the car to go to the mall.

We have uniforms we have to wear for school, so back-to-school shopping usually takes no time at all since all that was needed were new socks and boxers. Generally, we were done shopping within fifteen minutes. I somehow seriously doubt that things will be the same this time around.

While driving to the mall, I begin to feel a bit euphoric, or maybe I should say that my perception is a bit off.

Mom glances at me and asks, “Beth, are you alright?”

Looking at her, I reply, “I feel a little… umm… strange.”

“How so?”

I shrug. “Well, it’s kind of like everything is bright and cheerful, especially colors. I don’t know how to explain it. I’m happy, though. Much happier than I’ve ever been. Of course, that might be the drugs they gave me talking.”

Mom nods as she says, “You’re probably right. When we get to the mall, we’ll get something to eat, and you can sit down for a while until things settle into place for you,” while she pats my thigh reassuringly.

“Sounds good to me.”

A few minutes later, we pull into the parking garage. Mom finds a spot and takes my hand as we head inside. She asks me what I want for lunch, and I tell her MickeyD’s. After we eat and finish our drinks, Mom asks, “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”