“So, let’s make sure I’ve got this right,” Gina says, “In exchange for letting them hang around you, Alex agreed to help you get a date with me. Does that sum it up?”

I nod. I can’t meet her gaze. I've probably wrecked whatever friendship we were building, but I had to tell her. How could I base a friendship on a lie?

“Why didn’t you just ask me?”

That’s an excellent question. I don’t have an answer that doesn’t make things worse, so I shrug.

“She had a confidence problem,” Alex chimes in. “The whole ‘being trans and closeted and it’s too late for me’ thing was really doing a number on her head.”

For a second, I get the burst of happiness at ‘she,’ then the rest of what they just said sinks in. I turn to glare at them. “Seriously, Alex? Do you think that’s helping?”

“Yes.”

Of course they do.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I really thought it would work, or anything. It’s just, I was annoyed at them. I didn’t want to just give them what they were asking for. And they couldn’t do what I first asked for, and, I don’t know. It was dumb. I’m sorry.”

“What was the first thing you asked for?”

I hesitate. I’m not sure why. I’ve already told her that I’m trans. Why would she have a problem with me  asking a god to give me the obvious?

“She—” Alex begins.

I cut them off. “I asked them for an instant transition.”

“Oh, yeah.That makes sense,” Gina says. “But you’re better now, right?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“So?” she says, expectantly.

My mind races. I don’t know what she’s asking. I try to replay the conversation in my head. It takes a minute, but I get it.

“Um, so, Gina,” I pause. This is hard. “Would you like to go out sometime?”

She gives me a huge smile. “Yes, Maggie, I would.”

📎 📎 📎

It’s eight o’clock when I get home.

Gina and Alex and I hung out at the park until it got dark, then hung out a while longer. I’m sure they could both tell that I didn’t want to go home, and stuck around to keep me company.

I couldn’t stay away forever, though. It’s time to face the music.

I’m standing at the front door when I realize that I didn’t see Mom’s car. Worry and relief fight for my attention over that. I go inside.

“Hey, Maggie.”

Dad is sitting in his chair in the living room.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I think about that before I answer. “I think so,” I say. “Where’s Mom?”

“She’s taking a little time. She’s staying with a friend tonight.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

He gets up and wraps his arms around me.

“But I made her leave.”

“You didn’t make her do anything. She told me what happened.”

Oh, no. I can imagine what her version of this afternoon would sound like. But, I haven’t even told him my version, and he’s still not mad at me.

“You’re not mad at me?”

“Your mother brought someone over to tell you that you’re a bad person, and you stood up for yourself. How could I be mad at you for that?”

“You don’t even need to hear my side?”

He releases me from the hug.

“I’d like to, if you’re willing, but, no. I don’t need to,” he pauses. “But I am curious, did you scream profanities?”

He seems amused at the idea, not upset.

“I did say that I don’t give a fuck about her god. Twice.”

He mostly suppresses a grin.

“That was somewhat impolitic, but I’m guessing it was justified.”

“It felt like it.”

We sit down on the sofa, next to each other.

“Maggie, I love you, and you have my full support on this. You’re not going to let this affect your decisions, are you?”

“No. I actually told my friend Gina this afternoon.”

“That’s great! She took it well?”

I nod.

“I’m proud of you, and happy for you.”

He gives me a light side hug there on the sofa.

“I’m sorry that your mother is having so much trouble with this,” he continues. “I’m going to keep talking to her and try to get her to see how good this is for you.”

“Do you think it will help?”

“I don’t know. I’m not giving up, though. Not yet.”

“I love you, Dad,”

“You, too, Maggie.”

My stomach growls.

“Let’s find you something to eat,” he says.

We head for the kitchen.

📎 📎 📎

Monday morning is rough, because I didn’t sleep well. I alternated feeling guilty about Mom, feeling excited about transitioning and going out with Gina, and being terrified of transitioning. Even when I did fall asleep, my brain wouldn’t let me out of the loop. I don’t remember exactly what I dreamed, but I woke up anxious several times.

I make it to school alive, despite all that. When I get a decent parking space, I mutter a quick thanks. I know she can’t get me the best one every day.

It’s a little chilly out, but Gina and I eat outside anyway. Most of the picnic tables are open, so it’s a kind of privacy. Alex doesn’t join us. They’re off doing god things, I guess.

“This Friday?” Gina asks.

“That’s when I have the appointment,” I reply. “I don’t know if they’ll prescribe HRT right away, or if they’ll have a waiting period.”

“Are you excited?”

I nod. “And terrified,” I say.

“It’s a big step.”

We talk a lot. She asks a lot of questions.

Do I have any clothes? No, other than one pair of jeans.

When will I come out at school? I have no idea. Maybe I won’t. I could just boymode until graduation.

Do I have a middle name picked out? No.

I eventually get the topic turned away from me, and we talk about books until it’s time to go back inside for class. We haven’t picked a time to hangout after school yet, but we’re going to talk tonight and figure something out.

📎 📎 📎

I spend most of my shift at the animal shelter with my earbud in, chatting with Gina, while I clean cages and occasionally glare at Alex when it’s clear that they’re listening in. I don’t really mind, but I’m sure they’ve done something lately to earn a glare or two. It wouldn’t kill them to help with the cages, for instance.

“I can’t,” they say.

“Hold on, Gina, Alex is being Alex again,” I say, then to Alex. “Can’t what?”

“Can’t help you clean out the cages. Or anything with your job.”

They have sworn multiple times that they can’t read my mind, and yet . . .

“Why not?”

“You’re being paid, right?”

“But you wouldn’t get the money.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’ve bought me lunches, and otherwise spent money on me. Some of that money comes from this job . . .”

“Okay, I get it. I guess.”

“What were they saying?” Gina asks.

“They were explaining why they won’t lower themself to clean cages for me.”

“That’s not—” Alex starts.

“Not really,” I interrupt, “They were explaining why it would violate their bet.”

I relay Alex’s portion of the conversation to her.

Gina and I make plans to watch a movie at her house Wednesday night. We talk about which ones we might pick until I’m done, and it’s time to clock out.

“Want a ride?” I ask Alex. They’ve been sitting in the corner doing homework for the past half hour.

“Sure. Thanks.”

Once we’re settled in the car, I have a question for them.

“You haven’t been hanging around me as much lately. Did something change?”

“Yeah,” they say.

I wait for them to elaborate.

“Care to tell me what?”

“I’ve been hanging around with Gina, some.”

“And?”

“You’re very convincing.”

“You’re very confusing.”

“She believes you, so she believes in me.”

I do not drive into oncoming traffic. The honks I get are completely unnecessary.

“Wait, really?”

They don’t answer that. They don’t have to. I know they’re telling the truth. I have no idea how to feel about this. I should feel good about it, shouldn’t I? It’s less pressure on me. Maybe it will help Alex in some way to have more believers. What are the downsides?

“You okay?” They ask.

“Yeah. Of course.”

We don’t really talk anymore until we say our goodbyes outside the office supply store.