Chapter 5

I arise from my deep, peaceful slumber, stirring slightly under the covers. Next to me was my best friend, snoring so incredibly loud that I could hear my parents in their bedroom, which was next to mine, snickering to themselves. We left the door open last night because it always got so hot in my room."Jess, what time is it?" I mumble, shoving him lightly until he finally budges and almost falls off the bed. He rolls over to find that he had been sleeping on top of his phone, murmuring something under his breath. It's probably about me.

"It's 7:14," he groans.

"I don't wanna go to school. It's my birthday. I might be late for the bus, anyway. I forgot to set my alarm."

"Don't worry." he so generously replies. "I can give you a ride."

"Such a gentleman," I reply sarcastically as I get up from the bed, putting on my fuzzy blue slippers. I make my way into the bathroom, trying my best to be quiet so my parents don't notice me. They always insist on making me a huge birthday breakfast, and singing to me as I blow out the candle they stick in a stack of waffles, since I don't like pancakes. I usually succeed in avoiding them until I'm ready to come downstairs and eat. Usually, I would be rushing to get my clothes on, wetting my hair and skipping taking a shower, and shoveling a granola bar in my mouth before leaving the house to get on the bus, which always came at 7:30. I was thankful that I had a friend who was old enough to drive. But unfortunately, he leaves in two days. Though his car is nice, I suppose I'll miss my childhood best friend as well. But we did promise each other we would never go this long without talking ever again.

I returned to my bedroom, where Jesse was finishing getting dressed. He had on a pastel green shirt that was oversized on his skinny body and baggy blue jeans. "I wish your school didn't require uniforms. I picked out this outfit, thought it would look super adorable on you, and nearly asked if you wanted to borrow it, or even keep it."

"I guess, but I don't know. You can pull off just about anything, Jess. From overalls, to dresses, to a suit and tie. I don't know how to separate my fashion taste from my gender and the fact that I have to hide it from pretty much everyone."

"Well, that's what's so great about clothes. Hasn't anyone taught you that clothes have no gender?"

I let out a sigh. I didn't mean it like that. "I know that. That's not what I meant. But what if I continue dressing in feminine clothes if/when I'm fully out?" I whisper. "I'm not cutting my hair, Jess."

"So? There's no rule that says that trans boys have to cut their hair. Are you still hung up on 'not looking trans enough'?' All that matters is that you're dressing how you want to. Not how others want you, too."

I motion for him to turn the opposite way before undressing and first putting on my skirt. He was always right. I need to wear what makes me happy. And if someone asks about it, run the opposite way! "Alright, Jess. You're good. Are you ready to have birthday waffles and chocolate milk for breakfast?"

"Your parents are the best, Luc- um, Luis XIV! Did you know he was the longest reigning monarch?"

"What? Yeah, I thought everyone- oh! Interesting. We're learning about him right now in school," I reply, continuing to babble on about history until my parents are out of the hallway. "Damn, that was close. Tonight, we won't have to worry about that, though."

A month ago, or, maybe even a week ago, I never would have thought that I would ever feel comfortable enough to flatten my chest and wear my binder under my school uniform, and instead change into a pair of pants instead of a skirt before I left for school. Jesse was absolutely right. Clothes and gender aren't the same thing, and it shouldn't matter what color or type of clothing somebody wears. But, it's hard for me to wear something other than feminine clothes out of the house, because I had spent my entire life being told what to wear by my parents. When they gave me the freedom to pick out my own things, I went straight for the dresses, and that was the same even after realization kicked in. I just thought that it would be too risky to wear something even slightly masculine. At first, it was because I didn't want to believe I was different. It was a scary thing to think about. The whole process of telling people you want a whole different name, and wear different clothes, and get shots that make your voice deep and grow more hair, and smell worse. But then, I grew even more paranoid. Starting last year, I noticed that I wasn't even the least bit happy with my appearance, or my voice, or anything.

It was like waking up in a stranger's body. One of the hardest things for me to endure personally was the first week back at school. New teachers had to learn our names, and I heard the name "Atarah" so many times that day, and I ignored it at first every single time. The hardest thing for me was when my name stopped feeling like my name.

It never really did, I guess. I loved the name, so I felt guilty. But I didn't love it at the same time. I once told my mom that I wished I was given a Romanian name, like my dad wanted, and we had a huge argument that carried on and on for weeks. I continued to argue simply because I was scared to throw out a new idea out there. What I was really thinking was that the reason I didn't like my name was because it was a girl's name.

All these misunderstandings and unhappy years, all because of my uncertainty. But Jesse and Noa never once made me feel bad for being my own person. They are so incredibly accepting, unlike almost everyone else at my school and around the neighborhood. I do know there are plenty of people I can find online, and if I were to go out on the street and yell out, "I'm trans!" I would get plenty of weird looks, but there would still be some people saying, "Good for you." There's just no way of knowing who's "safe" to tell.

"Hm, look who's finally wearing those pants we bought for you! Happy birthday, sweetheart," my mother greets as I come down the stairs. Jesse follows behind, whispering curses directed at my mom. I have to keep myself from giggling. Even though he knew that she didn't know, he still thought that she should be more considerate of my feelings.

We both sat down at the table, Jesse between me and my mom. I'm sitting next to my grandmother. She doesn't really say much. She's been that way ever since Grandpa passed away, but she never seems to want to talk about him. Or move closer, even though my father has offered multiple times.

"Happy birthday, Atarah! Sweet sixteen!" My father calls out as he brings in a package of candles. I get up to pour the syrup on my waffles, and then I let Jesse to the honors of sticking in and lighting the candle. They all began to sing to me in their drowsy and tone deaf voices, and then there was my mom. She looks like she just woke up from a two year sleep, but her voice was always on point. My father always tells her she could quit her job and earn money making music.

I blow out the candle and give Jesse a wink, letting him know that I wished for something between only us two. As we both eat our breakfast, I begin to notice that Jesse is staring at my chest. Not in a weird or perverted way, but out of curiosity. He seemed surprised to see me wearing my binder. At this point, I was still scared shitless, but I was getting bored of being stuck in the same place.

After we finish eating, I try escaping upstairs to grab my things, but it's too late. My father stands up to give his annual birthday speech. This was going to be the first time that Jesse would be present for one of these, but I've told him basically how it goes every year. "I'm proud of my daughter, I didn't go wrong and raise her like them damn liberals, and oh my, you make me feel so old." Then he pretends to find a gray hair on my head and then gives me a birthday present early. This Sunday, I will be getting the rest. We always have my family come over to celebrate.

"Alright, allow me to make a birthday toast," my father begins, holding up his daily piece of toast with no butter on it. My mother laughs the same every year, like it's the funniest damn thing she's ever heard. "Atarah, you are finally sixteen. The age you'll be getting a car and a license, and will also be the year that I will be waiting with you for your date with a shotgun in my hand." My father pauses, as if expecting to have to hold for roaring applause or laughter. He says basically the same thing every year. "And, I would also like to point out how fantastic you are! You've become a very beautiful and intelligent young woman. Your mother and I raised you right, princess. We're proud of you. Now, here's to another great year of life!"

Jesse shoots me an "Are You Kidding Me" look. I just smile helplessly and nod. I check the time on my phone, which I had to walk into the livingroom to get, because whenever we are eating when Gram Gram is here, my dad wants to impress her by pretending we have rules. The time is 7:55. I have about fifteen minutes until we have to leave. I head upstairs to grab my bookbag and put on my shoes. I fixed up my hair and decided to go without makeup today. I peek into Stefan's bedroom. He is usually at basketball practice, but he's still in bed.

"Hey, you getting up?"

"No, I feel sick," Stefan tells me. We both knew that mom doesn't let us stay home unless we are severely injured. I call mom upstairs, flash him a devious grin, and head downstairs.

"That's for eating my strawberry ice cream last night," I say as I pass mom on the way down the stairs. "Stefan won't get out of bed. He says he's sick."

I rush into the kitchen, and Jesse is already ready to leave. My dad and grandma were both on their way upstairs as well. "Alright, I bought us a couple of seconds to be alone in the kitchen. So, how was your first 'dad' speech?"

"Oh my God, what was that? He does that every year?"

"Yep," I reply. "Since I was six years old. Quick, let's get out of here before I'm late, and my family starts being embarrassing again."

"Okay," Jesse laughs, opening the door for me. "And don't worry. Your family is very entertaining to me."

***I walk into the school building, feeling like everyone is staring at me. I told myself at first that it was paranoia. But then I soon realized that they all were. Leah Jameson was walking toward the bathroom when she saw me. She turns the same way I do and gets my attention by clearing her throat.

"May I help you?" I ask flatly.

"That guy has been dropping you off here every day this week. Who is he? I thought you didn't have a boyfriend."

"I don't," I reply, continuing to walk to my first class without looking at her. "He's my friend from Arizona."

"Oh, did he move here or something?"

"Why does it matter?" I snap back.

"I was just wondering! And I thought you would take the compliment. I thought you would appreciate that someone thought you could get a guy who wasn't just paying for sex."

"You know that's not true. Your jackass older brother was the one who paid Sebastian."

Now that I think about it, it didn't really sound much better. I mean, I was admitting that he was dared to kiss me, but I thought it was at least worth trying, convincing her that I'm not a prostitute.

"Whatever," she sighs, turning back the other way. I am about to step into the classroom, but someone pushes past me. It was Noa.

"Oh, shit, sorry! I was looking for you. I came here to give you your birthday present before class started."

"Oh, Noa, thank you! We're still on for the sleepover tonight?"

"Yep, and my moms even went to the store and bought us all matching pajamas!"

"Oh, so that's why you asked for Jesse's size. I just thought you were being a weirdo," I reply, taking the small gift bag and sitting at my desk.

"I hope you like it. I'll see you in Spanish."

Noa walks out of the classroom and across the hall to her first class. I had enough time before the first bell rang to see what was in it. Inside the bag was a box with jewelry in it. A silver ring with a tiger's eye stone on it. Ever since she picked up on my dad's tradition of gifting me rings and pendants, she's been trying to one-up him every year. There was a matching necklace with a charm made from an actual golden tiger eye stone. It was my favorite, and I had lots of tiger's eye bracelets, in red and blue colors. Tigers fascinated me ever since I was a little kid, and I saw two of them at the zoo. While the other little kids on the field trip with me rushed to see and watch the monkeys, or see the red pandas, I was admiring the majestic beauty of the tiger. What did people around school associate me with when they had to have me in their thoughts for whatever reason? "The girl in the back of the class drawing tigers in her sketchbook instead of doing math equations." In the bag was also a pair of fuzzy socks from my favorite brand. She also left me a cute note, as always. I liked to pretend that material things meant nothing to me, but I do appreciate the whole idea of those small little gestures. Getting me something that I love without even asking what I want in advance. I picked up the note and read it.

"Happy sweet 16! It was nearly twelve years ago that we met, and I am so lucky to have someone as awesome as you that never left my side. I love you like a sibling, and can't wait to celebrate every other birthday with you until we are wrinkly old people, sharing a mansion together.

-love, your bestest friend, Noa."

Reading notes gave me a feeling I am still not quite used to. I noticed that for the second year in a row, she hasn't used any gendered words and referred to me as a sibling. And I didn't use my name. Maybe I was looking too far into it. But it was almost as if she knew. Or had an idea. I have heard before that after knowing your friend for so long or being close to a family member, they can tell that you are going to come out to them before you even fully know yourself.

Either way, that note helped calm my nerves. We are going to grow old together, as best friends. Not best girlfriends. Not old ladies. Elderly sibling-like best friends. I tuck my things away carefully in my bag and put on the ring and necklace, just in time for class.

It seems that every year on my birthday when I have school, I get bored of history. I'm just waiting to get out of here, and onto my next class. Then onto the next until the day is over. Birthdays don't seem incredibly special or important to me. All I care about is spending it with Noa. This year, I'll get to spend it with Noa and Jesse. I really hope they get along, and I really think they will. I'm even in such a good mood that I let Leah borrow my pencil, even after she basically called me a prostitute to my face. I probably had a silly grin pasted onto my face during the entire lecture. I follow the herd of students down the hall and to my locker. Mine was right next to Noa's, and I knew she would stop there before her next class. I needed to thank her while I still had the chance to do it in English. Our Spanish teacher was extremely strict with us about using any other language besides Spanish in the classroom.

Noa sees me before she gets to her locker. She smiles widely as she sees the mutual expression on my face. As soon as she reaches the lockers, she wraps her arms around me in a hug. "Thank you so much, Noa. I love the ring, and I'm wearing it and the necklace now," I tell her as I make sure everyone can see the beautiful necklace over my shirt.

"I'm so glad you like it! Did you get time to read the note?"

"Yes, I did. You are so sweet. I always look forward to your notes."

"I can't wait until the sleepover!" She exclaims as we walk to our second class.

"We picked some of your favorite movies, and we can also do karaoke if you're up for it!"

"Karaoke? Do you have a karaoke machine?"

"Yeah," Noa sighs. "You know how my moms are at garage sales."

***The day seemed to drag on for weeks. Nothing really happened. Girls were still talking about me behind my back, and only one person at school told me happy birthday, and that was Noa. Oh, wait. And Miss Will. But when it was time to get picked up, everyone's eyes were on me. Admiring me. No, wait, not me. Jesse. But I think Jesse could see it on my face that my day wasn't too fantastic with all the girls, and the rumors. So, when he gets out of the car, he wraps an arm around my waist and gives me a kiss on the cheek, with no hesitation. At first, I just froze. But then, I notice some of the girls with their mouths hanging open. Maybe now the focus on me will be positive, until they inevitably forget about me in a couple more weeks? I really don't care about being popular. I prefer being in the shadows, but I found myself returning the kiss, and getting into the car, pretending to be Jesse's girlfriend. As soon as he starts driving home, I immediately apologize.

"I am so sorry, Jesse. I-"

"Why? I kissed you, silly. I heard some kids in the parking lot saying stuff like how they think you might be a lesbian or if people got paid on the spot to kiss you. So, boom. I'm your fake boyfriend."

"Well, thanks. Really. I thought people would have gotten sick of talking about me by now," I shrug. This wasn't even the first time we had kissed. We would do anything for each other. Jesse and I just had a bond like brothers. It still blew my mind that even after he moved away, he was thinking about me. So much that he came all the way to Nebraska with my grandmother a month after he had moved back. We're soulmates. Well, if I believed in soulmates. We listen to our favorite songs on the way back to my house, taking the long way so we can enjoy some time alone before he leaves on Sunday. I even find myself almost crying at one point between songs. He promises to visit every summer and maybe even during winter breaks. Knowing that he still would do almost anything for me after all these years gave me enough courage to start over with my online persona. I used to post gaming videos, and had quite a few followers. I wanted to do it this time under an anonymous account, sharing my story as I work on coming out and being honest to people about who I really am."Are you nervous about telling Noa?" Jesse asks, noticing I had gotten quiet."Actually, no. Not really. I always kind of knew this, but with the way she had treated me today, just like any other day, it clicked. She really cares, and she just wants to have her best friend that she can grow old with. Noa and I will always be best friends. It won't matter to her if I tell her I'm a guy. She will be happy that I am making these small changes and taking these steps so I can be happier." I wouldn't say my life is perfect, but it was feeling close to it today. Even with having school today. I just wish I could make things better with Sebastian. But this week, with Jesse here, I've barely even thought about the horrific pizza date since last weekend. Once we get back to my house, I sit down and take my time, having a small snack. My grandma was watching old game shows and eating green grapes and potato chips. Jesse and I joined her on the couch. We didn't understand the point of the game that the people were participating in, but Gram Gram seemed to enjoy it. She wrapped an arm around each of our shoulders. I smile contentedly as I peek over at Jesse. When we were little kids, around five years old, my grandmother found out that Jesse's father was abusive to him. His mother didn't want to believe such a thing since her husband never once treated her like that. She lived in denial, and once she began to catch on, she would drink. My grandma grew increasingly worried and offered to invite him over while I was there for the summer. That was the summer I met Jess. We had ham sandwiches and apple juice. We got to know each other, and he ended up staying the night there with us. We would invite him over, but I didn't know the true reason why until two years later, when we were seven. He opened up to me and told me what his home life was like. He said that he didn't really care if his mom stayed with his dad because out of all of that, he got a best friend. In the end, I was the reason he finally spoke up and got what he really wanted, but I didn't want to be selfish and ask. Grandma became his guardian for a year or so while his mom got her life back together. Two years went by, and everything seemed to be perfect. Back to normal, and how they should be. But then his mother nearly got back together with his father. Then, one day, I woke up, and my grandma and my parents were at the kitchen table. They told me that Jesse had to leave with his mom, to be more comfortable. But I knew Jesse, and despite what they were saying, he would not have just left without putting up a fight. Our friendship was everything."You coming?""Huh? Oh, y-yeah. Right. Coming," I reply as I get up from the couch. Jesse had been talking to me, and I wasn't really sure what he had said, but I followed him upstairs anyway. We still had plenty of time until we had to leave the house, but then I realized that I didn't even pack my bag in advance. So, Jesse offers to help me."First, turn around. I need to give this binder a break." Since it was so restricting, I had to give it a rest. But, I was considering putting it back on before we left the house. I had no reason to hide who I was if I was going to tell Noa tonight."I am so proud of you, Lucian. You may even decide to tell Sebastian. You two would be the cutest couple, and I would never forgive myself if I let him slip away from you."Jesse was always a matchmaker. He would set up all of his friends and even had people at his school back in Arizona asking him to help plan prom-posals. I knew it was his dream to help me find a date someday, but I didn't really have any interest in dating until I got close-ish with Sebastian. "I think it's too late, Jess. But I do appreciate everything you're doing for me. By the way, before you leave, I'm paying you back for all the clothes. And brunch and gas money," I insist."No, no. You seriously don't have to.""But you spent like, two hundred dollars on me, Jesse. Please!" I beg. "It all makes up for the time we spent apart, right?" I eventually give in, then he helps me pack my clothes. I picked out a dress to wear home tomorrow. It was pink with blue squiggly patterns, and kind of tight. I notice that as I grab it out of my closet, Jesse is looking at me like I've gone mad. He reaches into my closet, down to where I had a bag full of my new clothes, and picks out a button-up shirt and jeans. I return the confused look as he places the pile of clothes next to my dress in the bag. "Just in case."After the clothes were packed, I grabbed pretty much every item in the bathroom from skin care, to makeup, brushes, and items that Jesse couldn't even identify. "I thought you were only staying one night," he teases."Nah, I think this is going to be the year I run away," I snort as I return to my bedroom. We finish up gathering our things, head back downstairs, and wash our hands. We promised Gram Gram that we would help her cook. The woman could live entirely off of mini pizza bagels, chips, and angel hair pasta, and pretty much has the entire time she's been here/ But wanted to make us something special. Jesse and I used to love it when we were at her house in Arizona because she would make homemade vegetable and beef soup. It was the best Jesse and I had ever eaten. We always requested it the first night I was there for each summer. It was only 4:30, but we would have plenty of time to make it and eat, and then have Jesse help me with my two homework assignments. Then, we would stop at the grocery store and buy energy drinks for everyone so we could stay up all night at Noa's.The first step was to get out all of the ingredients, which were just vegetables, and then cut them as Gram Gram worked on the meat. Jesse and I cut up the celery, onions, carrots, potatoes, and peas. Jesse was the best at preparing the broth, so he was in charge of that as I kept an eye on the potatoes that I boiled. Once we had everything prepared, we threw everything in a pot and heated it up slowly as we went looking for my parents. The house was pretty big, but only had two stories. My dad was usually in his office. He didn't work from home. He was actually currently in between jobs, as well. He just wanted an excuse to spend time away from Mom when he needed it. I didn't blame him. My dad and I actually have a really good relationship. It's probably because we are hardly ever honest. We aren't dishonest with each other, but we just don't speak of the things we know would change our opinions about each other. If we disagree, we don't even go there. We watch TV and eat frozen pizza and bond when my mother isn't happy with us. Sometimes, he even buys me the junk food that my mom won't let us keep in the house. In his office is a mini fridge behind an old filing cabinet and some boxes, and he will store sodas and different cheeses and yogurts that I can eat if I don't like what mom makes for dinner."Hey, dad. Gram Gram, Jesse, and I made soup. Do you know where mom is?" I ask as I peek into the office. To my surprise, my dad was hunched over in his chair, had his hands folded, and looked like he was going to cry, or he already had been. "Dad, what's wrong?""Nothing, honey," he says as he straightens up and gathers the things on his desk that looked like they had been knocked over and thrown about. "How was school?""It was fine. So, where's mom?" "I don't know, kiddo," he replies as he runs his fingers through his hair. "She's... not here.""But, she doesn't just leave. Gram Gram doesn't know either.""Honey, go eat," he demands. I didn't want to argue with him. He was scary. Not when he was angry, though. When he was...this. Looking and sounding absolutely clueless and confused. When he doesn't seem mighty and strong like a dad should to their child. Happy sweet sixteen.