Sleep is restless. Several times throughout the night I wake up with a start, surfacing from dreams I don’t remember. But every single time, Pearl is there, snuggled against me, my arm around her stomach. And she is sleeping and her breathing is even and there’s just something about this scene of innocence that helps me calm down and drift back to sleep.

But Pearl can’t stay forever. Come morning, Mum comes in and wakes her and she wriggles out of my embrace. I move to get up, too, but Mum tells me that I can stay home today if I’m not feeling up to the task of returning to school. So I stay because I really don’t.

I try to go back to sleep and I think I succeed for some time. But then I get restless.

Alex’s words have worn out their meaning through hours of silent repetition. Maybe it’s the adrenaline that has finally worn off.

Doubts are starting to creep in. I know it is stupid to question his words not even a day after he’s uttered them and still I can’t help it.

Because Claire wasn’t that far off, was she? That’s the worst about it.

I get up and head for my closet. The doors open easily and for a moment I stare at the neat stacks of clothes. Girl’s clothes.

You’re not a woman, you’re not a trans woman. You are nothing, Timothy.

The thought of putting on anything remotely girly makes me feel sick.

The thought that she was the one to make me like these things. It so easily became a part of me.

Because you’re nothing, Timothy.

With a shiver, I grab for a pair of loose jeans and a plain black T-shirt.

I don’t look at the mirror as I put on new underwear and clothes, don’t even dare look down my body.

Ignore it.

I let go of the T-shirt, leaving it dangling around my neck and hectically scan my room for my headphones.

Where?

There, on the nightstand.

Put them in. Connect them to my phone. Open Spotify. Anything. Just sound. Noise. Turn up the volume. Louder. Louder. Until I don’t hear the voice.

Pictures.

Claire laughing hysterically, rolling around the mud.

Close eyes. Concentrate. Sing along in my head.

Better.

I know Reyna was right. I shouldn’t let myself be alone right now, but who’s there to be around?

Pearl didn’t look like she wanted to leave my side, but she didn’t have a choice. Mum and Dad have to work, Alex is taking care of his own problems. His own problems I created.

So who’s there to be around?

I turn on my phone. Several unread messages. I swipe them away without looking who they’re from. It’s not Alex.

For a moment I scroll around my contact list, earnestly considering going to Reyna and just sitting next to her as she works. But then I open Whatsapp to ask her and see the picture Shay sent me and it barely takes me a second to decide. I’m still wearing the bracelet, its weight comfortingly heavy around my wrist.

Hey, I know this must sound weird but… Can I come over?

Yo, hi

Didn’t expect to hear from you again

What happened?

Long story… I just can’t be alone rn.

Need someone to be there and

Keep the blades out of reach mby.

Oh fuck

Yeah, sure, come.

You should know that I’m trash at making people feel better tho

Not exactly my forte

There’s just a flicker of warmth in my chest, then there’s laughter in my ears and I have to close my eyes and sing along several lines of Chester Bennington screaming into my ears that he won’t be ignored.

Don’t worry, you can only do better than me.

Aight. Cu in a bit then

I don’t brush my teeth before leaving the house, I don’t eat. I’m not hungry anyway.

I don’t leave immediately, though. I stop at the bottom end of the stairs and turn right instead of left, towards Mum’s office.

I knock on the door and only then take out the headphones. Even holding them at arm’s length, the music is still clearly audible.

Back to old habits, I guess.

“Yes?” Mum’s voice calls from inside and I open the door.

“I’m heading out,” I say a bit lamely. “To a friend’s…”

She’s turned around in her desk chair, her worried expression eerily familiar. Did she use to look at me like that and I was just too used to it to realise?

“Will you be back for dinner?”

I shrug. “Dunno. I’ll text you, though.”

“Okay, sweetie. I love you.”

I only hum in reply, then turn and close the door behind me.

-

The bus drive takes too long. By the end my ears hurt and my wrist is sore because I kept hooking fingers into the bracelet to pull. The links are smooth but still metal.

Shay doesn’t take long to answer the door. They’re wearing joggers and a loose tank and raise an eyebrow when they see me.

“Wow. You look even worse than last time I saw you.”

“Feel worse, too,” I say drily, kicking off my shoes by the shoe rack.

“Gotta say, I’m a bit surprised to have you,” they say as they’re leisurely heading over to the open kitchen. “Wouldn’t people usually seek out close friends in situations like these?”

So we’re friends? Huh. Interesting.

I shrug. “It’s a long story.” With a sigh, I let myself fall into the couch I woke up on just a few days ago. “Why’s everybody always saying that it’s a great idea to share your trauma?”

They give me a sympathetic look. “Probably because it helps. You don’t have to talk about to me, of course. I mean, you barely know me right, but-”

I wave it off. “I should. I mean… if you’ll listen?”

They nod. “Of course.” They open one of the cabinets and hold a cup out for me to see. “Tea? Coffee?”

I nod. “Tea would be great.” Being awake isn’t the problem.

They turn on the kettle, then stop short and turn.

“Had breakfast yet?”

I shake my head glumly. “Not hungry.”

With a shake of their head, they open the fridge and put a plate with what looks like a large piece of lasagne into the microwave. “You’re eating at least half of this,” they say then, placing the steaming plate before me.

I frown. “Why do you care?”

They wave it off and return to preparing the teacups. “Been there, done that. Doesn’t end well.

You’re eating or I swear to God I’m gonna annoy the living shit out of you about it.”

Another flicker of warmth. I should probably eat, right? The feeling of sickness never leaves you if you just refuse to eat, I’ve learned that very early on in my childhood.

So I pick up knife and fork, cut off a piece and blow on it. When I deem it cool enough, I put it into my mouth, chew and swallow.

The smile Shay gives me is small and short-lived, but real nevertheless. “There’s a good girl.”

Not much later, two steaming cups of tea ornate the table and Shay takes their place in the armchair not far from me.

And I begin talking. I tell the whole story, barely leaving out any details. I don’t cry, though.

Throughout the story, I feel myself growing ever more numb, like when I was talking to the policewoman in Reyna’s car.

Shay doesn’t interrupt me once. They sit cross-legged in their chair, occasionally sipping their cup of tea but always keeping their eyes on me, even when I’m not looking back at them.

By the end of it, the plate before me is empty and so are both the cups. My throat is a little dry and I feel empty all over.

I look down and find I have hooked two fingers under the metal bracelet, pulling it, playing with it.
“Wow,” Shay says eventually. “That sucks.”

I shrug. What am I supposed to add to that?

For a moment, they just stare at the table, their hand slowly clenching and unclenching.

“Fuck, I hate the world sometimes,” they spit then, passionately.

“It’s like…” Their fingers have clenched the empty cup in their hands. “How is it fair that you of all people have to go through this? On top of everything you’ve got to handle anyway.” They shrug. “Okay, to be fair, you’re also a fucking moron, but I don’t need to tell you that, do I?” They finally put the cup back onto the table before they can break it on accident. “I mean, seriously? Going into the car with Claire? Accusing Alex of that? The best part about it is that I feel like I have the responsibility to shout at you for it because he’s not going to, is he?”

I can’t meet their eyes. “No, probably not.”

“God, you’re like… Like a fucking lilly or something. So beautiful but also so fucking easy to kill. I feel like I’ve got to adopt you just because you clearly can’t be trusted taking care of yourself and your friends seem too nice to tell you.”

I look up, finally, and they freeze for just a second.

“Sorry,” they say then, their tone softening. “Not my place, I guess. Told ya I’m terrible at making people feel better.” They shrug again and give me a weird look when a small smile creeps onto my lips.

“No, it’s… alright, I guess.” And it’s not really, but what is, anyway? “I deserved that. And you’re probably right. If you’d been there to shout at me earlier…”

They give me a lopsided smirk in return. “My point is… Yes, you’re naive and dumb and a bloody idiot, but that’s it, alright? Nothing that Claire said is true, okay? And her arguments are even dumber than you.”

I can’t help but giggle at that. The situation is so absurd, somehow.

“No, but really, think about it. How is anybody’s identity created? Exactly, it’s formed by their surroundings. I dyed my hair because I saw it online and thought it’d look cool and because there was the possibility to do it in the first place. I’m certainly not the first human being to have changed my pronouns, Alex wasn’t the first to play league and get his friend to play with him. And you, little Lilly, are not the first trans woman to have blindly run past beauty and happiness for so long. In fact, there are loads of eggs that crack only much later. Yeah, you might not have known you’re a girl since the age of four, but you’re ahead comparatively.”

“What’s an egg?” I ask into the breathing pause they make and their face falls.

“WHAT?” they scream almost.

I shrink back a little. “What’s an… egg?” I repeat, blushing deeply. Am I supposed to know this?

Shay breaks into laughter. It’s loud and sounds weird, like a cackling giraffe, maybe? “Right, I could’ve anticipated that,” they wheeze then, once they’ve gotten a hold of themselves again.

“How’re you supposed to know some of the most important lingo of your whole fucking culture, after all.”

“So what is it, then?”

“Egg? An egg’s a person that hasn’t realised they’re trans yet. It’s because their ‘real’ self still has to ‘hatch’, I guess?”

I’m about to reply when my phone buzzes on the table.

I hesitate to pick up, but Shay says, “Take it. Could be important.” so I pick up the phone and look at the displayed name. Isa. My stomach turns. I totally forgot about her. I didn’t tell her anything about all this. Another huge fuck up. Had I told her even a few words, she’d have told me how stupid I was being.

I swipe at the green icon and put the phone to my ear.

“Hey,” I say, already trying to come up with a good way to break the news to her.

But the answer makes me stop short. “Where are you?”

My eyes flicker around the room for a moment, trying to make sense of her words. “At a friend’s,” I reply then. “Why?”

“Because I’m standing in your room right now and you aren’t home. And I’m worried, Selena. Please send me your location, I’m coming over.”

I look at Shay who’s giving me a quizzical look but I only shrug in reply.

“But how do you kno-”

“Alex gave me a call yesterday. I took the train first thing in the morning. I texted you but you didn’t read…”

I nod. That makes sense. I remember the texts I swiped away. And Alex… He must’ve been worried about me not having anybody around, so he called Isa.

I take the phone away from my ear. “Is it okay if Isa comes over?”

I feel a little bad about imposing like this but I like Shay and I don’t feel like leaving quite yet.

They shrug. “Sure. If it helps you to have me around while the two of you talk…”

So I tell Isa the address and she hangs up after telling me that she’ll be around soon.

“Anyway,” Shay says once I’ve put the phone away. “To circle back to topic, do you get what I mean? About everybody picking up influences and making them a part of their own identity?”

It takes me a second to reorganise my thoughts, then I nod. “I suppose it makes sense?”

Shay nods. “Good, that’s a start.” They get up and head for the stairs.

“Where’re you going?” I call after them.

“To get something, don’t worry, I won’t be long,” they reply with a wave and disappear into their room.

They’re back barely five seconds later, throwing a blue and white plush shark at me. Startled, I manage to catch it and give them a confused look.

“It’s yours,” they say, almost dismissively as they come back down the stairs. “Can’t have you living past trans culture like that.”

My gaze only grows more confused. “What’s this shark got to do with it?”

“It’s the bloh hai,” they reply. “Fun fact, a lot of people kinda pronounce that wrong because Swedish spelling is different and English spelling is ridiculously dumb.”

“You’re not making this any better,” I say, lightly shaking my head.

Shay stops by the kitchen counter. “It’s from Ikea. The trans community adopted it as one of their icons. So you should have it… Though you should probably give it a thorough wash before taking it to bed,” they add, wrinkling their nose.

I raise the plushy to my nose. Right, it smells like a plushy that has not just been lying in the corner looking pretty.

“Anyway,” they say, clapping their hands. “We’ve got like… half an hour? Would you like to help me bake a cake? I could certainly do with some sweetness.”

I put the shark to the side and get up. “As long as you don’t put any drugs in there…”

It was intended as a bit of a joke, but they turn dead-serious immediately. “That’s in poor taste after how we’ve met,” they say. “I never give anything like that to anybody without warning them about the effects first. And you will probably never get anything like that from me on principle.”

I raise my hands in a gesture of surrender. “Sorry.”

They give a short nod and begin gathering ingredients from the cupboards. “Just… try to be mindful. You never know what people have been through.”

-

We’ve just put the cake in the oven when the doorbell rings. I look at my phone and see a text from Isa, saying that she’s about to arrive and go to open the door as Shay finishes wiping down the kitchen counter.

Isa looks… dishevelled, to put it lightly. Her hair is loose but unkempt and there are dark rings under her eyes. She can’t have slept much last night.

When she sees me, she gives a choked gasp and rushes forward to embrace me. I stagger a little when our bodies collide, but I quickly regain my footing and God it feels so good to have her here.

“I missed you,” I whisper into her shoulder and she replies by holding me even tighter.

“I missed you too.”

She lets go of me and I step back to let her in.

“So, who’s this friend?” she asks, crouching to take off her shoes. “I haven’t met them yet, have I?”

I shake my head. “My I introduce: Shay,” I say, motioning towards them as they come closer, drying their hands with a towel.

“They/them,” Shay says with a lopsided grin and offers Isa their hands. “Glad to have some reinforcements.”

“Isa,” Isa replies.

“Just for the record, I think you were doing quite alright,” I say as we make our way to the kitchen.

“Stop being polite,” Shay replies simply, then turns to Isa.

“We made cake. It’s still going to take some time, though. Anything to drink?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Being polite, huh?”

Shay coughs, then turns their attention back to Isa. “Alright, since Selena insists, you’re very welcome to fuck off and I’m not giving you any drinks.”

For a moment, Isa looks very confused, then she decides to join in on the act. “Just as well, I don’t want your brackish tap water,” she says, raising her head to look arrogantly past her nose, then she produces a bottle from her bag and demonstratively takes a sip.

“Fuck off,” Shay says and gets a glass out of the cupboard. They fill it with water and put it on the kitchen counter where Isa can easily access it.

“Wanna move over to the couch or keep standing in the kitchen like idiots?”

So we do move over to the couch. Shay takes their usual spot, Isa sits down next to me on the couch. She’s close enough that our legs touch and that warmth is nice to feel.

“Alex told me,” she says after a moment, taking my hand in hers and staring at it absently. “That girl Claire… She was the one you told me about, wasn’t she?”

I nod silently.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there earlier, I… If I’d met her…”

“It’s not your fault,” I say when she pauses for the second time. “How should you have known that something like this would happen once I returned to school?”

“I should have insisted on more frequent contact…”

“But you didn’t and now it’s happened, okay?” Shay says with an air of annoyance.

Isa looks up like she’s about to start a fight for a moment, then she nods.

“And anyway,” I say. “You’re here now. You’re doing what you can and for that I’ll be forever grateful.” I can’t quite believe that I’m about to say this, even less that I actually mean it. “Together with all of you guys… I’ll make it.”