“Y’know, you’re going to have to start learning to do this stuff yourself if you’re going to keep leading a double life,” Maggie replied in a deadpan tone when I showed her Rebecca’s picture on my phone.

“Hey, this isn’t a permanent thing!” I retorted, failing to hide the flush of frustration rising in my cheeks. “I just gotta work up the courage to tell Emily that I’m really a guy named Michael.”

“Uh-huh. And what if she tells you she prefers Lauren? What are you going to do then?” Maggie asked, locking eyes with me. “Are you going to give up on her or try to keep up the act?”

I shifted around in my stool at the kitchen island, bouncing my phone in my hand as I did so. “That’s just it. Lauren is an act. If Emily doesn’t like me for the real me, then that’s that,” I grumbled.

My eyes tracked Maggie’s hand as she reached across the island counter and positioned her hand in front of my face. Her middle finger bent down and her thumb crossed in front of it.

*FLICK*

“Ow! What the hell was that for?” I exclaimed, covering my forehead with my hand.

“Because somehow your skull is thicker than plate armor!” Maggie retorted, returning to her seat. “Sometimes I wonder how you got into college with such a low Insight skill. Honestly, your Wisdom modifier must be negative.”

As I continued to nurse the sore spot on my forehead, my annoyance won out. “What are you talking about, you absolute nerd? Put it simply so your words can penetrate my ‘thick skull,’” I snapped.

She huffed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I have a suspicion,” she said ominously. “But if I tell you what it is, you’ll get all defensive and completely block me out. So instead,” she continued, her voice taking on a coy tone, “I have a proposal.”

I had a sinking feeling I knew what she was going to suggest, but I decided to play along. “Oh, and what is this proposal?” I asked, drawing out the word.

“I want you to live as ‘Lauren’ for a full week, even at home, work, and school,” my sister said with a smug grin. “And if you don’t feel genuinely happier after that time, I will do all the chores for three months. If you do feel happier, you have to talk to a therapist about your gender identity.”

I fucking knew it. “Okay, for starters, I don’t have any gender identity issues, okay? I’ve never even thought about my gender identity until this stupid cross-dressing bet with Jeff. And can you imagine how much that’s going to mess things up for me at school and work? Especially school?!” I asked, practically shouting.

“My dude, you go to community college. Do you know how many gay and trans kids are there? And if anyone actually asks you about it, just say it’s a bet with your sister. Really, you’re just making up excuses at this point,” she replied calmly. “Now get your fragile masculinity in check and stop yelling at me. Geez.”

I winced. “Sorry. It’s just… I dunno. I feel like everyone’s trying to force me into this, and all I really want is to be normal. Normal guy. Doing normal things. Normally.” I’m not sure if the fatigue from the recent drama had made its way into my voice, but I was definitely feeling tired of pretty much everything and I think Maggie could see that.

“Okay, okay. I getcha. And I’m not going to push anything, but I thought I’d give you an ‘out’ by having the wager as an excuse,” she said. “Plus you could hang out with your girlfriend more spontaneously!” She put kind of a whiny emphasis on the world girlfriend that made me want to pick her up and put her in the trash can. I resisted. Barely. “But the big question I have for my big brother is this: Are you more uncomfortable with being seen as a girl, or with being seen as abnormal?”

“Huh?” I asked, genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that being a woman, even a trans woman, is normal. So what are you really afraid of, here? Are you afraid to be seen as trans? Or do you think people see you as some kind of deviant cross-dresser?”

I flopped over on the kitchen island, my forehead bouncing off the counter and aggravating the site where Maggie had flicked me. “Mags, normal people don’t dress up as the opposite gender to go out on day dates with the person they have a crush on,” I mumbled into the formica surface. “I’m totally a deviant cross-dresser.” I could almost feel my soul leaving my body in shame. Interestingly, it was at that moment that my phone, still in my hand, began vibrating. 

“You might want to answer that. It’s the person you have a crush on,” Maggie said in her usual deadpan. “Maybe that will help you decide how normal you care about being.”

Resignedly, I lifted my head and slid my thumb over the glass surface of my budget phone to answer it without looking at the display. “Hello?” I asked.

“Hey, Lauren!” Emily’s perky voice greeted me though the tinny speaker. “You mentioned maybe wanting to hang out the day after tomorrow or Friday? I just wanted to call and see if you were still up for it.”

“Um, I’m not sure. I’m feeling a bit off. I had kind of a rough day at work and I really need to catch up a bit on my homework for a couple of my classes,” I fibbed. Truth was, I generally finished my coursework while I was still on campus because the rest of my time was usually taken up by work and hanging out with the guys. Guess I didn’t need to worry about that last part, anymore.

“Oh,” Emily replied in a genuinely disappointed tone. “I didn’t think about that. I kinda forgot you were in school, honestly. I’m sorry, I must sound like I’m being super needy.”

Hnnnnngh! Dammit. Okay. “Y’know what?” I suddenly asked. “I think I can make Wednesday work. I’m usually pretty good at chewing through the busy work at school, so maybe I can knock it out tonight and tomorrow. What did you have in mind?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to force you if you’re not up to it.”

“It’s fine, honest. I’m mostly knocking out gen eds for transfer credits since I don’t know what I want to do with my life. This kind of work shouldn’t take me too long,” I reassured her.

There was a slight pause. “Okay, but only if you feel up to it. There’s no pressure, and you can cancel if you need to,” Emily finally said. “I was thinking you could come over to my place and we could game a bit or watch movies or something, maybe order delivery? Just hang out?”

“What games did you have in mind?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

She let out a sudden laugh, a sound that made me smile despite my fatigue. “Well, I was thinking we could try playing some couch co-op! I’ve got some console games I thought could be fun,” she said as the uncertainty seemed to vanish from her voice.

I finally sat up so I could talk a bit more clearly without sounding half undead. “Okay, that sounds like a good time! Should I bring anything?”

“Just your appetite!” Emily responded.

I decided to commit. “Alright, what time should I show up?” 

“Whenever is fine, just try to make it before 5pm so we have some time to enjoy the game and dinner!” she suggested with another laugh.

I glanced at my sister, who appeared to be completing some daily quests on one of her mobile games and ignoring me. “Can you shoot me a text with your address?” 

“Sure thing! I’ll do that right now, actually.”

There was a moment of quiet on the line as I took a deep breath and tried to collect my thoughts. How long was I going to keep up this charade? Would Emily have given Michael her cell number and home address? Would she have given that information to a woman that she knew was interested in her? This was so confusing. A notification popped up, displaying the text with Emily’s address.

“I got it!” I exclaimed, perhaps laying the faux cheer on a little too thick.

“Cool cool!” replied Emily. “Okay, I’m gonna let you go so you can focus on homework and stuff. Gimme a call if anything comes up, all right?”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you later, Emily! Bye!” After she said her own goodbye, I disconnected the call. This left me sitting at the kitchen island with my obviously-eavesdropping sister. I glared at her as she began to open her mouth to speak. “Don’t say it,” I demanded.

“Say what? That you need to learn to do your own makeup? That you should bring in the rest of the cute clothes that are still sitting in the backseat of your car? Or that maybe you’re more open to the idea of changing up your gender expression to try things out?” the brat asked in a mocking tone.

“I was going to tell you not to say ‘I told you so.’ But yes, that. All of that. Every word of what you just said, I would rather you not have said.”

Maggie finally put her phone down and looked at me. “Too bad. Are you ready to start your homework?”

My brow furrowed as I tried to puzzle out what she meant. “What homework? You know I do it all at school. I was just telling Emily that because–”

Suddenly, my phone interrupted me with a ringtone I didn’t hear too often - the one for my family-only email. I glanced at the display in confusion and tapped the on-screen notification to reveal that the email was from Maggie. It was a massive list of YouTube makeup tutorials, clothing guides for tall and thin body shapes, and hair styling information. There was even a subset list of information for Rebecca at work.

“You actually have a LOT of homework for the next couple nights, don’t you?” My sister stated flatly. “I love you, Lauren, but you don’t pay me nearly enough to be your personal on-call fashion consultant,” she continued with a huge smile and expressionless eyes. She picked her phone back up, that eerie smile never leaving her face. “I accept tips via Venmo, PayPal, or Google Play gift cards.”

This felt like extortion. “Yakuza fashionista,” I muttered in annoyance.