12
Blockers

“Katie,” my Mom said, walking into my room in the afternoon. ”Have you thought about what we talked about yesterday?”

“Yes,” I said, nodding. “I think I do want to go to the doctor to discuss blockers.”

“Cute photo,” Mom said suddenly, picking up the pictures we took at the photo booth. “You seriously went along with that pose?”

“Mom!” I said, getting up and grabbing the photo from her. “That was not meant for your eyes.”

“You looked so adorable though,” she said, laughing. “God, that pose is cute.”

“I just went along with it because they told me to!” I said, trying to justify myself.

“I never doubted that honey,” she said, tousling my hair. “I just think it’s cute.”

“Sure,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Okay, so about the doctor,” she said, changing the topic back as suddenly as it was changed in the first place. “I already booked an appointment for tomorrow yesterday, since I assumed you would want to go.”

“Okay,” I said, hesitantly. “So what will happen there?”

“Well, we’re going to a gender clinic, so they’ll probably ask a few questions relating to your gender identity and such. We should be able to get you some blockers there though.”

“Okay,” I said. I slowly stood up, feeling worried about what I was about to do. I walked up to my mom and hugged her tight, catching her by surprise. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Oh, that was an unexpected surprise,” she said, hugging me back. “You haven’t done that in a long while.”

“I guess I haven’t shown as much appreciation as I should have,” I said.

“Maybe not, but you’re still my precious child,” she said. “I’m just doing what a good mother should.”

“Just, thank you,” I said, stepping back and smiling at her. “For everything.”

“Of course,” she said. “For today, do you want me to teach you some more makeup?”

“Yes!” I said, excited to learn more.

***

“Okay, so eyeliner is going to be a challenge for you,” Mom said, handing me an eyeliner pen. “You’re going to have to do this a few times before you learn how to do it well.”

“I mean, it can’t be too hard, right?” I asked, picking up the pen.

“Sure,” Mom said, laughing. “Try and we’ll see.”

“Okay,” I replied. I tried to apply the eyeliner on my right eye but ended up shaking too much and poking myself in the eye. “Ow!”

“I told you it wouldn’t be easy,” Mom said, using some eye makeup remover to get rid of the streak of eyeliner around my eye. “Come on, try again.”

I tried a couple of times, before finally getting a decent bit of eyeliner above my eye. It was a little too thick, and still a little shaky, but unless you were looking close, it would look fine. “I did it,” I said, proud of myself.

“Time for the other eye,” Mom said, laughing at my enthusiasm when I wasn’t even halfway through.

“Darn,” I said, picking up the eyeliner pen again.

***

“Oh my, aren’t you just the cutest,” Mom said, handing me over a mirror. “You look great, Katie, and you did this all on your own too!”

“I guess I did an okay job,” I said, looking at my makeup in the mirror. It was still far from when Mom did it for me, but it didn’t look half bad.

“You’ll get better too over time,” she said, smiling. “Maybe I won’t have to wake up early anymore to do your makeup for you.”

“No!” I said, scared that she would leave me on my own from now on. “What if I forget, I still need you.”

“I know, I know,” she said, gently laughing. “I’ll still do it for you until you have it down pat.”

“Thanks,” I said, looking at myself in the mirror even more. “This was all kind of a waste though.”

“Why is it a waste?” she asked, peeking over my shoulder. “You learned a lot. Or is this you telling me you want to go shopping.”

“The latter,” I said, awkwardly looking up at her with a smile.

“How can I resist that face,” Mom said, sighing. “Fine, let’s get going.”

***

“Mom, look at how cute this is!” I said, walking up to a dress on display. It had cream-colored sleeves while the rest of it was a slightly checkered brown. “Can I try it on?”

“Sure, let’s get the store employee here,” Mom said, looking around. She called out to the one girl working, asking if I could put on the dress. I scurried into the changing room with the dress. I took off the dress I was wearing to put it on when I noticed myself in the mirror.

I had a rather slim figure, but there was a definite lack of feminine features. My hips weren’t all that wide, and I had no boobs to speak of. I frowned, I did want my body to be more defined. I also reminded myself to change from boxers. I shook my head, not wanting to worry about my body at the moment, and quickly put on the dress.

“Mom, I want to buy this,” I said, walking up to her.

“I’m assuming I’m paying,” Mom said, looking at the price tag on the back. “For your 120-dollar dress.”

“I would appreciate it?” I said, looking up at her with pleading eyes.

“Fine, but you better wear this,” Mom said, looking through her purse. “I don’t want to buy this and have you not wear it.”

“I’ll wear it tons, I promise,” I said. “Even in the worst-case scenario, I have to go to Rosewood for another semester. That’s like four whole months to wear it.”

“Fine,” she said, sighing. “I have to really learn not to just buy you things when you act cute. I guess I’m just not used to you doing that.”

“I don’t mean to act cute,” I said. “I just… am?”

“That’s a bold declaration,” Mom said, laughing. “So none of this is you acting cute?”

“No,” I said, putting my index fingers on my cheeks again. “Totally not.”

“Oh, sure,” Mom said, laughing at my display. “That’s not you trying to act charming in the least?”

“Nooo,” I said, trying to act as cute as I could.

“You’ve become a real adorable ball of sunshine lately, has anyone told you that,” Mom said, shaking her head. “Come on, let’s go buy your little dress.”

***

Mom and I circled the mall a few times, and I bought a lot of clothes. Mom often sighed, saying I bought enough, and that we should go now, but a bit of begging and cuteness quickly swayed her over.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Mom said as we walked out of the mall. It was still quite sunny out, which felt odd since we had been in the mall for ages. “We have to get you a blood test.”

“A blood test?” I said, gulping. I was never a fan of needles, and even my yearly flu shot had me deathly afraid. “Do we have to?”

“If you want to get on blockers, and possibly estrogen in the future, yes,” Mom said, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll get it.”

“Good,” Mom said. “Consider it a gift to me in exchange for all the clothes I got you today.”

***

“Tyler Lee?” the nurse said, calling out to us. “Tyler Lee, please make your way to room three.”

“This is Tyler Lee?” the nurse asked, raising her eyebrows as we walked into room three. She took a glance at the file she had on hand and looked back at my face.

“Umm, that’s me,” I said awkwardly. “I prefer Katie.”

“Okay,” she said, writing something down. I peeked over to see what it was, and it said ‘Patient is transgender, Katie.’

“I’m a little scared of needles,” I said, flinching as the nurse brought out a clean syringe. “Can you make sure it’s not too painful?”

“I’ll do my best,” she said, tying a rubber rope around my arm and slapping at it. “Okay, I found a vein. Close your eyes, and it’ll be done in a second, okay?”

“Okay,” I muttered, a bead of sweat rolling down my forehead. I closed my eyes as I felt a cold alcohol rubbing pad being rubbed around my arm. Then there was a sudden pinch. I winced a little but made sure not to make any sudden movements. Then, the pain was gone as fast as it had come.

“Good job, Katie,” the nurse said, applying a pink bandage on my arm. “Thanks for being such a good girl today.”

“Thanks,” I said, immediately melting at the mention of good girl.

***

“Katie Lee, that’s what you would prefer to be called, right?” Doctor Hall said, checking his notes.

“Yes,” I said, nodding. “That’s the name I feel most comfortable with, for now at least.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’m just going to ask you a few questions, then we can discuss your prescription.”

“Sure,” I said, nodding. “You can ask me anything.”

“What makes you think you have Gender Dysphoria?” the man asked, looking up from his notes.

“Well, I had to dress up like a girl due to some unforeseen event,” I said, careful not to mention Rosewood. “Since then, I’ve realized I’m just much more comfortable and happy like this. I already said this to someone else, but it’s like this fog that covered my brain for my entire life is finally gone.”

“Got it,” he said, writing down more notes. We went through a few more questions, which I answered as honestly as possible. After a while, he took off his glasses and set them down on the table. “Since you already have your blood test in order, I can give you the prescription for cyproterone acetate,” he said, writing something down on a prescription pad.

“Just like that?” I asked, confused. I seriously expected more.

“Just like that,” he said. “You have parental permission, everything is in order, and you show clear signs of gender dysphoria.”

“Oh,” I said, awkwardly taking the prescription in my hand. “Wow, thank you.”

“Of course, Katie,” he said, nodding. “Good luck on your journey.”

“Thank you so much Doctor Hall,” my Mom said, taking the prescription from me.

***

“Apparently you have to cut these into fours,” Mom said, splitting the medicine up with a pill cutter. She handed me a quarter of the cyproterone acetate. “There we go.”

I took it in my hands, a little scared of it. This was the medicine that would change my development and life forever. I quickly put the pill in my mouth, swallowing it down with some water.

“You took it?” my mom asked.

“Yeah,” I said, smiling. “Does this mean puberty won’t hit me?”

“Yes dear,” she said. “According to this, it’s an anti-androgen. Meaning it’ll stop testosterone from developing in your body.”

“That’s good,” I said, smiling. “I wonder what estrogen would do.”

“Thinking about getting on estrogen already?” Mom asked, gently laughing. “Well, it’ll just make you go through a female puberty. Meaning you’ll get breasts, wider hips, all the things that go with being a girl.”

“Oh,” I said, a little scared of that. “I’ll have to think about that a little longer.”

“You do that, dear,” Mom said.

***

“Matthew!” I said excitedly, running up to him. “I started blockers!”

“Is that why you called me over?” he asked, laughing gently.

“Yeah,” I said, looking up at him. “I also kind of missed you.”

“Say that again?” he said, turning his ear at me. “I didn’t hear that.”

“Shut up,” I said, pushing him. “I. Missed. You. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Thanks, I can hear now, my hearing problems have left,” Matthew said, laughing.

“Screw you,” I said, although I couldn’t help but giggle at his silliness as well.

“So, what did you have in mind for today?” he asked, scratching his head.

“I don’t know,” I said, shrugging. “I just wanted to tell you I got blockers, that’s about it for my plans.”

“Katie, you’re such a dork,” he said, sighing. “Do you want me to take a look at 100 Cute Date Ideas to Really Up the Romance again?”

“No!” I yelled out, embarrassed. “We are not going on a date. It’s just hanging out.”

“Whatever, I’m looking at the article,” he said, rolling his eyes. He opened up his phone and typed something, and started scrolling down. “Do you want to take a hike?”

“I think I’m a little too dressed up for a hike,” I said, gesturing broadly at myself. I was all dressed up in full makeup and a skirt and blouse.

“Okay, scratch that,” he said, continuing to scroll on his phone. “You know, I thought this suggestion was ridiculous, but do you want to go grocery shopping together and then try and cook something together?”

“You know what, sure,” I said, smiling. To be honest, I would’ve done anything as long as I got to spend time with him.

***

We both walked into our local Whole Foods, immediately hit by the air conditioning. “Why is it so cold here?” I asked, my teeth chattering a little.

“I guess they have to keep the food cold,” Matthew replied. “I wish I brought a jacket.”

“Same,” I said, shivering. “What are we even going to make again?”

“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “Let’s just browse the aisles and see what there is to make.”

I grabbed a shopping cart and leaned on it, beginning to walk forward. Matthew walked next to me, as we browsed around the store. There wasn’t much excitement until I spotted an aisle that was completely empty.

“I want to try gliding on the shopping cart,” I said, making sure nobody was near us.

“What do you mean by gliding?” he asked.

“You know, when you like, get on it after pushing it so you can glide along,” I said.

“Ohh, that,” he said, nodding. “Sure, go on ahead.”

“Okay, save me if I fall, okay,” I said. I pushed the shopping cart so it built up speed, and then quickly got on it. I glided across the aisle before I put my feet on the ground to slow it down before I hit the end. “That was fun!”

“Looked fun,” Matthew said, laughing. “How about I sit in the shopping cart and you push me around.”

“What?” I said, embarrassed by his suggestion. “I’m not your mom!”

“Could be,” he said, laughing.

“What is that meant to imply?” I said, pushing him.

“Woah, easy there,” he said, stumbling a little from my push.

“Sorry,” I said, giggling. “I didn’t think I would be strong enough to push you any significant amount.”

“Well, usually you wouldn’t be,” he said. “But I was caught off guard. If I wasn’t I wouldn’t move a single inch.”

“Sure, just sounds like you’re intimidated by my strength,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Believe what you want to believe, Katie,” he said.

“Okay, back to the topic, shopping,” I said. “We need to find some food to cook.”

“We need to cook, Jesse,” Matthew said, laughing.

“Shut up,” I said, giggling at how dorky he was acting. “Okay let’s make a choice now. We’re either going to make spaghetti or burritos.”

“Hmm,” he said, putting a hand over his mouth as he thought. “I think that spaghetti would be better.”

“Great,” I said, relieved that we finally found something to make. “Let’s go over to the pasta aisle to find something.”

“Wait, we’re not going to make the pasta from scratch?” Matthew asked.

“What?” I asked. “I’m not Italian, I’m not going to bother with that”

“How about the sauce? Surely we’ll make that ourselves.”

“I’m not going to smash tomatoes on my own!” I said, indignant. “Don’t expect that from me. You’re too Italian.”

“I cook-a da meatball,” Matthew said, making the Italian hand pose with both hands.

“Shut up,” I said, giggling at how stupid he was acting. “What if there’s an Italian person, they’ll be offended.”

“They would be more offended by how you’re desecrating spaghetti,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You’re supposed to make the pasta and sauce on your own, you know.“

“Well, I’m lazy,” I said, crossing my arms. “So this is the best you’re getting.”

“Will we at least add meatballs,” Matthew asked. “What is a spaghetti dish without meatballs?”

“Fine, we’ll make meatballs.”

***

“How about we get macaroni instead,” Matthew said, picking up a box of macaroni. “It can be macaghetti.”

“What is macaghetti?” I asked, genuinely confused. “Macaroni and spaghetti?”

“Yeah, let’s just do it,” Matthew said, tossing the box of macaroni into the shopping cart. “Come on, sauce next.”

We walked over to the sauce aisle to be met by option after option for tomato sauce. “Are you going to say we should get cream sauce instead of tomato sauce now?” I asked, giggling.

“No, no, we are still making spaghetti,” he said before quickly correcting himself. “Macaghetti I mean. That requires tomato sauce”

“Okay,” I said, picking up a random glass of tomato sauce. “Let’s get some meat and breadcrumbs next, and I think everything else I already have at home.”

***

“How did you seriously convince me to get macaroni instead of spaghetti noodles?” I asked, looking disappointed at the box of macaroni.

“Well, I just did it so quickly that you just went along with it,” Matthew said, laughing.

“Let’s make the meatballs first,” I said, picking up the ground beef we had just bought. “I think that takes longer.”

“Okay,” Matthew said. He scrolled through his phone for a while before finally speaking. “Okay, we need to put the meat and breadcrumbs in a bowl with an egg and some cheese.”

“Okay,” I said, tossing the beef and a bunch of breadcrumbs into the bowl. “What next?”

“Katie!” Matthew yelled, looking at the bowl. “We’re supposed to measure it so the ratio is all correct.”

“Oh,” I said. “My bad.”

“Yeah, your bad,” he said, rushing over to the bowl to salvage what was there. “I guess this isn’t too bad, we can work with it.”

“Okay,” I replied, grabbing an egg out of the fridge. “Do I just crack it?”

“Yeah, just crack it,” he said. “Shouldn’t be too hard to crack an egg, right?”

“Of course,” I responded, cracking the egg on the counter. I must’ve put a little too much strength into it though, as it split in half, leaving the contents to fall on the floor. “Oops.”

“Katie,” Matthew said, rubbing the bridge of his nose and sighing. “Have you ever cooked before?”

“Umm,” I said, awkwardly laughing. “I cooked some spam before if that counts.”

“Okay, so no cooking experience at all,” he said.

“Hey! Does the spam not count?” I asked, looking up at him.

“Fine,” he said. “Minimal cooking experience, but only because you’re so cute.”

“Stop calling me cute,” I said, looking down at the floor and swaying from left to right in embarrassment. Why did it feel so nice to be called cute by him?

“Okay, so next,” he said, completely ignoring me. “We have to toss in some salt and pepper and then mix it.”

“Okay,” I said. I tossed in some salt and pepper while carefully supervised by Matthew. I washed my hands and then mixed the meatballs, stopping when Matthew told me to.

“Great,” Matthew said. “Now let’s roll them together, and then we’re ready to cook.”

We both rolled the meatballs together with our hands, and it was a lot more fun than I expected. Mine turned out quite lumpy though, compared to Matthew’s meatballs which turned out very smooth. “Okay, so we can bake them or put them in a frying pan and cook it that way,” Matthew said.

“Let’s fry it!” I said, excited to see fire.

“Sure,” he said, nodding. “Don’t touch anything, I don’t trust you with fire.”

“Aww,” I said, slumping my shoulders. “Not even a little?”

“Not even a little,” he responded, turning on the fire. He put a pan on top of it, dousing the skillet with olive oil. “Now, we wait for it to heat up.”

We awkwardly stared at the fire for a minute, until it finally was hot enough to put in the meatballs. The meatballs were cooking quite well until I suddenly saw a flash of red.

“Ahh,” I screamed in a high-pitched voice as the fire flared up on the pan, making the entire kitchen light up. “What the hell?”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Matthew said. “The fire will die down in a few seconds.”

I waited for a little while, stepping back out of nervousness. The fire did die down quickly, disappearing as soon as it appeared. “Okay, that was scary,” I said, walking back up to the kitchen stove.

“Yeah, it happens sometimes,” he said, laughing. “Come on, let’s make sure nothing gets burnt on the pan.”

We flipped them, to make sure one side didn’t get burnt. “Cooking is hard,” I whined. “How does everyone do this?”

“Practice, Katie, practice,” Matthew said, rubbing his temple. “Here, let’s get started on the spaghetti too, we’re almost done with the meatballs.”

“What should I do?” I asked, excitedly looking at him.

“Umm,” Matthew said, clearly trying to think up a task for me to do. “Can you boil water?”

“Of course I can do that,” I said, scoffing. “Who doesn’t even know how to boil water?”

“You, possibly,” he said, shaking his head. “You couldn’t even crack an egg.”

“Well, I can boil water,” I said, determined to prove him wrong. I turned on the stove and put a pot on there, filling it with the amount of water Matthew told me to. I watched the water for a while, making sure nothing would catch on fire, and eventually, it began boiling. “I told you I could do it!”

“Yeah, good job,” Matthew said, clapping for me. “Toss in the macaroni now.”

We waited until the pasta was done cooking, and Matthew drained it on his own, scared that I would burn myself. He then tossed in the sauce and meatballs we prepared, stirring the whole thing around for a few minutes. “It’s done,” he declared. “The Katthew signature dish.”

“You’re also saying Katthew now?” I asked, sighing. “Whatever, let’s eat.”

I was given the important task of scooping the spaghetti out of the pot and into the bowls. Matthew watched over my shoulder as I did it though, scared that I would drop it or something. It seemed he had very little faith in me after watching what I did to the poor egg.

“I’m not sure if this is going to be edible, but let’s get eating now,” Matthew said, looking at the monstrosity we made. We both took a bite of the macaghetti.

“You know what,” I said, wiping some of the tomato sauce off my lips with a tissue. “This tastes better than I expected it to.”

“I didn’t have high expectations either,” Matthew said. “But this is surprisingly decent.”

“You didn’t trust that I would make good food?” I asked, glaring at him.

“Okay, okay,” Matthew said, trying to justify himself. “You also didn’t have high expectations and you couldn’t even crack an egg properly.”

“Well, I did my best,” I said. I looked at the floor, trying to act as pitiful as I could.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Matthew said, looking like he genuinely felt bad. “You did a good job, it doesn’t taste bad at all.”

“Got you,” I said, giggling as I looked back up at him. “I wasn’t sad in the slightest.”

“Damn,” he said, laughing as well. “I thought I fucked up, you scared me.”

“Well, it's your fault for falling for it,” I said, shrugging. “This genuinely tastes good though, I did a good job.”

“You did a good job?” he balked. “I did like almost all of the work, excuse me.”

“I did the most important parts, like boiling the water and rolling around the meatballs.”

“Now you’re just messing with me.”

“Fine, I won’t tease you anymore,” I said, taking another bite of the Katthew signature meal. “Well, I will, but just not for now.”

“Fair enough,” he responded. “You know, I probably shouldn’t have gotten macaroni instead of spaghetti.”

“Wow, Captain Obvious,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You just figured that out now?”

“Look, in my defense, it could’ve added a unique flavor to the dish.”

“Well, the flavor of this dish is unique alright,” I said, shaking my head.

We finished up the meal, occasionally bantering about this or that. Eventually, though, Matthew had to go, something that left me oddly somber.

“Bye, Matthew,” I said, waving at him as he got on his bike to leave.

“Katie, I’ll see you later, okay?” Matthew said, waving back.

“Okay,” I whispered, wishing he stayed a little longer.