The next few days were something of a blur. I was too busy floating about on cloud nine, wiggling with glee whenever I had time to really process much of it. Not that there was much time to celebrate or enjoy Hannah’s company. It was still a boot camp, after all. Meals were about the only time to do anything off of the curriculum.
Still, those fleeting meal breaks gave us enough time to lean against one another. To talk about nothing in particular. It was a gentle peace between the chaos of various lessons. The exhaustion that came from all the constant physical training. Hannah’s smile was such a wonderful break from all of the stress.
Standing outside the gym area, the group had warmed up, but we were apparently not heading in to lift weights. We were starting to get a little confused, and the instructor was clearly enjoying our uncertainty.
“We’re doing some slightly unconventional weight training today, ladies,” she announced, after having waited long enough to savour the drama to her satisfaction. “Instead of dumbbells, we’re practicing ‘girlfriend lifting’.”
There were a few murmurs of surprise from all of us.
“The most reliable way to pick up a girl is generally with your knees, after all,” the instructor said, laughing at her own joke while the rest of us tried not to groan. “There’s a few main techniques. Bridal carry is the most romantic and conventional, but piggy backs and firefighter lifts are both good for longer carries. Now, I know some of you have already found partners here, so partner up with your—well, partner. If you haven’t started dating anyone, find someone about your size to team up with.”
Hannah and I quickly paired up. I found myself feeling glad that the height difference between us wasn’t actually that large. Three or four centimetres at most. That left me hoping that she might be able to lift me... it surprised me how much the possibility she might not be able to was being seized upon by dysphoria. I had sworn I had had that reasonably under control.
Yet here it was, rearing its ugly head in my subconscious as soon as it had anything to feed on. Trying to push it back down to the ugly shadow in the back of my brain where it had been lurking ended up distracting me slightly from the lesson being given. Enough that I let out a yelp of surprise to suddenly have Hannah picking me up in a bridal carry.
“I’m going to want to work out a bit more to make this easier, but hey. I managed it,” she said, straining somewhat, but succeeding in holding me.
My cheeks grew hot and I was certain I was blushing furiously as she put me down. The pure euphoria of it all... my brain was barely forming full sentences as a result.
“Oh my, that’s quite the blush,” she said, leaning and making me even more flustered.
“I—well, it’s...”
“So cute!” Hannah added, leaving me even more frazzled. “Adorable even!”
The effects were predictable. How was I supposed to keep my composure when my girlfriend was saying something like that?
“Trans girls are delightful,” she said, leaning in to give me a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re working so much on being dashing and strong, yet you’ve got such an adorable weak point.”
“M—maybe so,” I replied, before doing my best to regain composure, “but let’s see how well you do.”
With that, I then shifted my footing to slide in and scoop her up into my arms. The results weren’t quite as strong as they were for me, but it did a good job of wiping her smugness away. My arms strained more than I’d hoped, but I was able to hold her up long enough to give her a kiss.
After setting her back down on the ground the group were then instructed to shift over to a piggy back carry. The added weight was used to make a walk across the nearby field rather more of a struggle.
An enjoyable struggle, though. Both for the proximity with Hannah and the knowledge of how much it was working my leg muscles. Something I needed to balance my overall build. Build those thighs to make up for a lack of hips.
The physical proximity was also delightful, and left me wishing we had more free time to enjoy together.
The next morning led to another new class: archery.
A range had been set up in the middle of the main field and we headed towards it after breakfast. The bows were somewhat less complex than some of the more intimidating modern bows I had occasionally seen people go off hunting with, with all their pulleys and whatnot. They were still obviously modern, though. Probably aluminum or something. And with strutting and a curve that seemed aerodynamic. They were quite light when we were allowed to pick them up.
“Got to wonder,” the woman beside me said as we started lining up, “how are swords too dainty, but bows are just fine?”
“Try drawing it all the way,” the nearest instructor said, a smug grin on her face.
“Ok?” the other girl replied, starting to pull it back and soon making an expression of strain as she pulled it closer to the full draw.
“Archery takes far more strength than most media likes to make you think,” the instructor explained. “It also uses muscles most people don’t work out much. A good way to build up your back.”
The woman gave a small nod, letting the bow go slack again. She also mumbled something about back muscles that I did not catch the entirety of, but suspected I agreed with. A well toned back was a thing of beauty.
It turned out I was not great at aiming. Most of my arrows reach the target’s distance, but only three of them hit a target... one of which hitting the target beside the one I’d been aiming for. Still, it was my first time picking up a bow and a few of the other girls were about as bad as I was.
“I’m sure you’ll be a proper Robin Hood by the end of the camp, though, don’t worry,” Hannah said as we waited in line for lunch, trying to hold back some giggling.
“Oh, yeah. Get all smug because you’re finally better than me at a camp activity,” I muttered, though I wasn’t actually all that annoyed. It was mostly just dramatics for the sake of the bit.
“I can’t help that I got hooked into dystopian fiction as a teen… and my mum thought my new interest in archery was a rare feminine trait and to be encouraged,” she replied with a smile.
Looking down at myself as I got dressed, I noticed how dramatic my farmer’s tan had gotten. It was also apparent how I was starting to bulk up. Not to a huge degree, as it had only been a couple of weeks so far, but there was still a start to it. I also suspected that the calories and protein were helping my chest fill out, but, again, it had only been a couple weeks. It would be months before I could really say anything on that front.
What definitely stood out, however, were the calluses on my hand. Calluses were something I’d dreaded getting, ever since—well, no. Even before I realised I was a girl. Because it had always been something I’d associated with masculinity. Something my dad and grandfather had always happily said would be a sign of being a proper man.
Yet now I had no reason to fear the idea. One could have callused hands and be a woman. There was nothing exclusive to manhood about being strong and capable of physical labour. I no longer had to crush myself down into a box just to be a woman. I could do whatever I wanted without compromising my femininity.
Or... maybe womanhood was the better word to use. I had been a bit too lacking in understanding of gender theory to follow the debates during meals between the other trans girls and our cis peers about how the concepts of butchness and femininity interacted...
Whatever the right word was, it wasn’t cis male masculinity, and so I felt so very liberated by it.
The second Friday we were given a proper day off. Time to relax, to mess about, and to actually get to know one another. Of course, most of the activities available to us were rather physical. Soccer, sparring, rugby, and so on.
Hannah took me off to the partial archery range that had been left out, ready to guide me through the steps. The proximity that came with her correcting my form led to my cheeks burning and a hunger in my heart. It was a reminder of just how little real physical intimacy we’d been allowed.
“Eyes on the target,” she said as I found my eyes darting towards her.
“Maybe I have a different goal in mind right now,” I whispered, letting the bow go slack.
“You do, do you?” Hannah replied, an eyebrow raised. “I—well, to be honest, I wasn’t sure how comfortable you would be with that. And... well, I’ve never slept with anyone with a—uh...”
She paused to stare at me as I felt certain my cheeks had turned incandescent, they were so hot. My eyes had no doubt also gone comically wide.
“You... weren’t talking about sex?”
“N—no. Just... I was just thinking about a kiss,” I mumbled.
“Oh. I... a kiss sounds nice,” she replied. “But... I’m also a bit wound up and I suspect a kiss would just wake up desires that I’ve not been able to act on in ages...”
“Er—well. I...” I found myself stammering. I’d had minimal experience with sex, and none with another woman. “Maybe... maybe we can wait a little while on that. Not because of you, but because I...”
Hannah gave a small nod and offered a soft smile. “I understand. Besides, the cots here aren’t very comfortable.”
“No. No they’re not,” I replied, smiling back at her before we both began to laugh.
Walking into the office that afternoon, I was slightly worried. There wasn’t any reason I could think of for being called in; I had followed the rules as best I could since the whole escape attempt.
So, I was quiet as I sat down, watching as Cam finished up a bit of paperwork (...the owner of the camp and the one who’d first picked me up... I’d finally learned her name after no longer thinking of her as a prison warden). She then spent a moment gathering her thoughts before turning to me.
“So, Madison,” she said in a concerned tone, “there’s two weeks left to being at this camp and I have to ask: have you thought about where you’re going afterwards?”
“Going...”
“Seeing how your parents sent you here due to a misunderstanding, it seems somewhat doubtful they will be happy to have you return still a woman,” she explained. “I just want to know we won’t be tossing you out to be homeless or… worse.”
“I—well, I suppose. Hannah has offered to have me stay with her, and I have my friend Maya up in Calgary,” I replied.
“That is good,” Cam said with a small nod. “Do you plan to pick your things up from your parents’ before moving out?”
“Uhh... I—I guess I have to? My car’s there.”
She gave a small nod. “Do you think that will go well?”
I was forced to grimace slightly and then shrug. “I, honestly, don’t know.”
“Would you like any help with that? A little back up can go a long way in a tense moment like that.”
“I... if it’s not too much hassle?” I replied.
Cam smiled. “Good, good. I’ll see who might be available to help you out.”
“Thank—thank you. Is... is that everything?” I asked.
“It is.”
“Oh. Good. I was worried I’d messed something up,” I replied, standing up and smiling. “Um... well, I should get back to the rest of the group.”
Cam said her goodbye and I hurried off.
