“Today’s the day,” Claire grins at me as Mika and I fall in line with her. “You got everything?”
I show her my sports bag. “’Course I do.”

It’s Wednesday, several days have gone by since the sleepover and today is the day I’ll accompany my new friends to their dancing class.

The weather is cooler today, in spite of the clear sky it is just a little too cold to be out in just a T-shirt.

“Excited?” Mika asks from my other side, blinking against the sun to look in my direction.

I shrug, saying, “It’s not that special, is it?” trying very hard to not let onto the fact that I’ve been looking forward to this for several days now. I’ve looked up videos of cool dance performances on Youtube and it took me minutes to fall in love. I don’t have to be loud, I don’t have to be proud, I don’t have to compete. Just the music and I as one.

Of course, all that anticipation is pointedly overlooking my total lack of talent. But hey, a little commitment should take care of that, right?

Emma’s already standing by Claire’s car, her own, this time. Last week’s ride had been her parents’ because her own car had been in the garage. It’s a rather beaten but retro-looking Mercedes with red paint.

“Ladies,” Emma says, taking position next to the passenger door. But Mika was never going to put up a fight. Instead, she walks straight to the left door to the backseat and once Claire has unlocked the car she opens it and sits. I take my seat and soon enough, we’re off.

Claire puts on the radio and they talk about some new boy in one of the classes they have but I don’t. Claire tries describing him to me and when I can’t recall his face, she says it’s because I only have eyes for Alex and I’m probably too prude to even acknowledge other guys’ beauty. Emma turns and pulls a face as if she were about to vomit that only I can see.

Then, Claire turns the music up and it’s like last time, except that this time I’m singing along right from the beginning. It doesn’t even sound too bad.

It’s already late afternoon so we head immediately for the dance studio. Mika tells me that they used to hang out at Claire’s before dancing, back when classes allowed for it. So no hanging out at Claire’s today.

The studio is in the same town Claire lives in as well. It’s quite close to the pedestrian zone, in the same building as a large gym.

We park in a Tesco’s car park, as they apparently always do, and walk the short distance.

Several other girls are already standing in front of the closed doors, waiting to be let in. They wave when they see us closing in and ask me my name. It’s not exactly excited, but friendly.

Soon enough, a young woman arrives and introduces herself to me as Mackenzie, saying that if I ever call her ‘Miss’, she’s going to make me run laps around the building.

She and the girls seem to get along quite well. They joke on their way to the changing rooms and she changes with us, not in the separate room for instructors.

We begin the class with a long stretching session, followed by a few simpler warm-up exercises.

I think I manage? At least in most cases, I manage to complete the task to some degree of satisfaction.

Well, that the tasks are really only meant to get us into the groove, I realise very quickly as we get to the actual dancing. I’m absolutely terrible. Especially in comparison to Mika, who moves with such grace and precision that she seems like a different person entirely.

Mackenzie isn’t phased, though, and neither are the others. They all give me occasional pointers and or correct my stance, but in a friendly way and apart from that, they leave me alone, seemingly oblivious to my flailing.

I think it gets a little better? Towards the end I don’t feel like a complete disgrace to the parquet below my feet anymore, I am at least generally capable of executing some of the moves and strung together I’m sure it doesn’t look good, but it feels like a start and it’s fun because it’s not just me jumping up and down to the music. I can feel the connection forming.

-

“So, what do you think?” Mackenzie asks me as we file out of the changing rooms.

I’m absolutely beaten. My legs and shoulders hurt but in a weirdly satisfying way.

“It’s a lot harder than it looks,” I say with a grin.

“I think you were doing pretty good, considering it’s your first time doing this,” she says, giving me a warm smile.

“Oh do you?” I giggle, firmly expecting it to be a joke.

“Yup,” she says instead. “I mean, yeah, you’re not on the same level as them, but even in these two hours today you made quite the progress, don’t you think? I think that, if you keep at it, you should be able to catch up with them reasonably quickly.”

We arrive at the door to the gym and she stops.

“So, Selena, think I’ll be seeing you again?”

I shrug. “I’ll think about it. Gotta talk it through with my parents. I think I’d like to, though.” Because giving up on something after barely even having tried is stupid, if for no other reason.

“Alright. Good luck, then.” She waves and turns and heads down the street further into the center of town.

I’m still smiling when I catch up with my friends. They’ve waited for me just out of earshot and now Emma gives me a slap on the back, saying, “You did well!” and I blush and look at the cobblestone beneath my feet.

“Mackenzie said that, too.”

Claire gives me a grin. “Of course she did. Did you have fun?”

I shrug. “I guess? I’m sure it’s a lot more fun once I get the hang of this.”

“So you’ll join us?” Mika asks hopefully.

I shrug again. “Probably? Would be kinda dumb to drop it because I’m not a pro after two hours of trying.”

She nods. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

We arrive at the car park and I move in the direction of the car, but the three girls by my side continue straight on towards the bus station at the end of the street.

“We’re taking the bus home,” Emma explains when I have to jog a few steps to catch up with them. “Wouldn’t want Claire to spend half of the night driving us.”

“Right,” I say lamely, feeling kind of dumb. I don’t even know which bus I’d have to take to get home. How did I not think of this beforehand?

Slowing down a little, I get out my phone and open Google Maps, click on my home town and select the bus icon. It takes a second to load, then I let out a groan.

“What happened?” Mika asks, turning around to look at me worriedly. “Will you have to wait long for your bus?”

I show her the display with a sigh. “All night, pretty much. Guess I’ll have Mum pick me up.”

“Or you could crash at my place,” Claire offers. “I mean, you know that I have enough spare stuff to lend you for tomorrow…”

A warm feeling spreads in my chest at how casually she puts that out there. As if it were the most normal thing in the world. Just a friend offering a friend to sleep over for convenience’s sake.

“You sure that’s okay?” I ask, my finger already hovering above Mum’s number.

Claire nods. “Definitely. I mean, today’s pretty much over anyway, right? We’ll eat, maybe watch a movie, go to sleep and get up early. Not much to it.”

Her smile is encouraging and I switch to Whatsapp and send Mum a short text, telling her that I won’t be coming home tonight.

She reacts by telling me not to drink too much, accompanied by a winking emoji. I reply with the obligatory eye roll.

“Okay, then,” I say and put my phone away again.

A bus drives past us and Mika and Emma break into a run.

“See ya tomorrow,” Mika calls and flails her arm in our direction, then the bus stops and the two disappear inside.

“And that’s them.”

Claire stops and turns and I follow her. “So, what do you wanna do with the evening?” She turns her head to look at me. “Please tell me you’re not gonna spend all this time with homework.”

I grin. I have, in fact, no plans like that. “Not much of a swot, are you?”

She shrugs. “Already done with everything.”

I stop. “WHAT?”

She shrugs. “I’m aiming to get good grades in A-levels. And anyway, having to do homework after practice is always a drag. So I just get everything done in time.”

“Fair.” I just got myself used to the thought of not having maths homework for tomorrow.
We arrive at the car and get in.

Claire doesn’t immediately start the car, though, instead typing away on her phone. She pauses, reads something and then puts the phone away.

“Hope you’re hungry?” she says, pulling out of the car park and onto the street.

I nod. “I’m exhausted and appropriately starved.”

“Great. Mum’s almost done cooking and of course she made too much.”

-

Claire’s right, of course. By the time we come through the front door and kick off our shoes in the hallway, her Mum is busily arranging plates and cutlery on the table.

“Hi girls,” she calls. “Hope you’re hungry.”

I raise my eyebrow at Claire and she giggles. Like mother like daughter.

Then Claire calls back, “Yup.” And we head into the living room.

Her father is just coming out of his office, gently closing the door behind him and nods at me.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon,” he says with a kind grin. “Which isn’t saying that it’s not a pleasant surprise, of course.”

He sounds a bit like he’s still caught up in his ‘meeting with the higher-ups’ mode.

He gestures towards a seat and I take it. Claire sits down next to me, the two of them across from us.

Again, dinner is a rather quiet affair. I don’t say much at all, Claire and her Mum discuss some event in some European country I haven’t heard about – the event, not the country – because I can’t be bothered to watch the news. Too much going on in my own life.

Like last time, I offer helping with the dishes once we’re done eating, but like last time, Claire’s Mum declines, saying that I need to be well-rested for school tomorrow.

We say goodnight and head upstairs. Claire closes the door to her room behind us and hands me more comfortable things to wear once I’m done showering.

The hot water feels amazing against my fatigued muscles and when I return to Claire’s room, hair wet against my back, I feel sleepy and clean and just comfortable.

She showers too and soon both of us are sitting on her bed, the blanket bunched up in our backs.

Claire gets out her laptop and turns it on, but neither of us moves to click on one of the many movies on her screen and neither of us makes suggestions.

“You know,” Claire says eventually, putting her head back onto the blanket to stare at the ceiling, “I’m really glad I picked you up.” She pauses. “You fit quite well with us crackheads, even though there’s not much of you yet.”

I furrow my brow and look at her quizzically. “What do you mean ‘there’s not much of me’?” She said it so casually, like it’s the most obvious thing to her. But I don’t even know what she’s talking about.

“You know.” Her smile stays and she tilts her head to look at me. “I feel like your personality is still developing. Like, you’re always so quiet and yeah sure, you’re shy, but I think it’s also because you’re not certain about the kinda person you want to be.”

So that’s kinda out of the blue. It takes me a good minute just to take in what she’s saying and easily another two to form an opinion on it.

I never thought about it that way, have I? But didn’t I hate who I used to be because life was passing me by? Wasn’t I scared of school because of the way I don’t defend myself but instead choose to silently endure? Wasn’t that the problem to begin with? Silently enduring instead of actively seeking help.

“No,” she says now, thoughtfully pinching her lower lip in between thumb and index finger. “I think you know what kind of person you want to be. You just don’t know how to get there.”

“Is that why you invited me to come along to dance practice?”

She shrugs. “Probably? I’m still working you out, I think. But I’m getting there.”

And suddenly I’m smiling and a pleasant warmth spreads in my chest because I’ve been in this type of situation before. She’s not the first one to understand me better than I do myself.

“You’re a lot like a good friend of mine,” I tell her and put my head back, too.

She grins. “I am?”

I nod. “Yeah. Her name is Isabella. She knew that I was trans even before I found out myself.” I giggle at the memory. I was so stupid back then. So blind. “She came here for the holidays and we became something like a couple. She found out by accident that I could change into this body and realised that I liked being this way. So she took me shopping for girls’ clothes and taught me all sorts of things and eventually realised that it wasn’t her I was in love with, but Alex. She didn’t even get mad at me when I shouted at her for suggesting I was trans. Some turbulent time that was.”

She chuckles a little, too. “Sounds like a person I’d like to meet. A person all of us have to thank, huh?”

I nod again. “Mhm.”

“By the way,” she says then, thoughtfully. “In what ways do you think you’ve already changed since you have the right body?”

A pleasant shiver runs down my back at the sound of her referring to my body not as ‘new’ or ‘beautiful’, but simply right.

“I’ve become happy, mostly. More active around family and friends. Don’t think my old self would’ve accepted the invitation to a sleepover.”

“Anything changed about your future plans?”

I shrug. “Never had much to begin with. But what I had hasn’t changed, I don’t think. I’ll just go where Alex goes and then figure things out from there.”

She laughs. “All lovey-dovey, huh?” Then she gets a little more serious. “Good thing you came along to practice today, then.”

“Why?”

“Because you need something of your own, girl! Like, isn’t everything defining about you right now in some way connected to Alex?”

I stop smiling and shrug defensively. “How is that a negative thing?”

“It isn’t, of course! I’m sure he’s a great guy. But knowing who you are and what you want and what you’re passionate about helps you so much with being more confident and… sort of at home in your identity? I don’t know, it’s hard to describe. And anyway, that’s what applies to me.” She pauses and looks at me like she worries she might’ve taken it too far. “So you might wanna take all this with a grain of salt.”

But I’ve already made up my mind. Isa was right about so many things when I couldn’t hope to understand. Sometimes, you just have to take a leap of faith and trust that other people can be capable as well. A great first step towards self-improvement, right?

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I just don’t know how I’d get there, though.”

I know what she’s about to say even before she does.

“Don’t you worry, we’ll get you there. And oh boy, the haters better hide right the fuck now because you’re gonna be amazing.”