Chapter 11
"We're all different somehow. Fuck what they say! I used to get made fun of for my height. It just shows that all high schoolers are that insecure."
"You did? But that's such a... normal thing." I take one of the cookies that didn't crumble from the force and take a bite. "Wow," I say with my mouth full. "So good!"
"I got called a giant nearly every day in elementary school. I've been this height since the fifth grade. Kids will look for just about anything to make fun of."
He tries making me feel better, but I can't get him to understand my situation if I don't come clean. The only thing was, I would need a push, and since Jesse isn't here anymore, there's no use even trying. Sebastian is a lot of handsome, sexy, brilliant things, but pushy isn't one of them. "You may be tall, or, compared to me, even a giant. But you know what I think? You're a gentle giant. What you see isn't what you get."
"Exactly. You get so much more. And, whatever it is that earned you that nickname is just a part of you that is unique. You're so much more than what people may criticize you for. Your name means 'crown,' right? You're like a princess."
"It's more like this: if you're a gentle giant, then I'm a melancholy monster," I reply, giving him a half smile, trying to show him I'd rather keep this conversation lighthearted.
"Whatever you want to be called," he shrugs. "I personally think of you as a tiger. You know that people spend their lives hunting those like you, who are different? But you're going to be one of the few that make it out alive. And I'll gladly protect you, always."
"I would say that's just about the cheesiest thing I've ever heard," I laugh. "But tigers are one of my favorite animals."
"I know," he replies, getting us each a glass of milk.
"You do? How?"
"Remember when all the schools in our area went to the zoo in middle school?"
"Oh, right! You were there too." Now I remembered. We pretty much spent all day together. Of course, that was before I got to know him better.
"And since you were only eleven and I was thirteen, I got assigned as your 'buddy' so you would behave."
I let out a laugh, and he quickly joined in, knowing exactly where I was going with this. "Didn't you end up trying to jump in one of the ponds that same afternoon?"
"Okay, I suppose I wasn't the best buddy, and you barely even talked to me. But I watched you, and saw how much you loved the tigers."
"And then you cut our time there short so we could go see the aquarium," I replied unenthusiastically.
"Listen though! I'm actually going somewhere with this. When I hear your name, I think of tigers, and not just because they're your favorite. But maybe you see the appeal in them because you can relate. Or, I don't know. Let me know if this even makes sense. You stay up late at night, and you love playing and swimming in the water during the summer-"
"Seb, no offense. But you sound like your drunk self right now," I interrupt.
"Hey!" He playfully nudges me, bumping into my side. "How would you even know that?"
"New Year's Eve! When we all had some beers, remember?"
"Oh. I actually didn't drink. I think I was the only one who didn't," Sebastian admits before taking a sip of milk.
"Well, now you're making me feel like a bad person! I hope you know I don't usually drink."
"No, I know. And I'm not usually one to pretend I'm drunk."
"What, you didn't want to be different? You wanted to act like a drunken idiot, on purpose?"
"No, no! I don't want you to think I take that sort of thing lightly. I personally think that no teens should drink, but some don't agree with that. I guess I had one motive. You know how drunk teens act stupid? That's me, all the time. If I did something stupid, I wanted to have an excuse."
"What do you mean by that? How stupid? Reckless? Or just plain dumb, like Stefan dumb?" I wanted to predict how this conversation was going to end. Where it was going. And why there were butterflies in my stomach all of a sudden.
"Depends. What if I didn't just want money that night?"
"You have to be more specific."
"Greg knew from the beginning that I needed money. I turned him down before we got to your house. I told him I couldn't do that to you. But as we spent more time together, I figured that kissing you wouldn't be so bad," he explains.
"But, you're gay. But you still wanted to kiss me?" Nobody else was at his house, so we could talk freely. But I still lowered my voice as I asked this.
"You're something special, Tarah. You wrack my brain. That's the best way I can put it. Let's just leave it at that."
"Well you just plain hurt my brain sometimes. In a good way, but frustrating."
"Cause I'm so poetic?" He teases.
"Actually, yes. To the point I can't understand you sometimes. How did that saying with the tiger go again?"
"Not all tigers are even born cut out to survive. But even some tigers are special. As special as you," Sebastian explains. He leans over, folding his arms and resting them on the counter, next to me.
"You never have anything bad to say about me, do you?"
"Nope, not really. I guess I'm the one that causes all the chaos." His voice changes, and as I look to my right and notice his expression, I knew something was wrong.
"Hey, no. Don't say that. I'm sorry if I made it seem that way."
"I still feel so bad, Tarah. You keep telling me not to worry about it, but I need to know. If it's not, we can drop it. But is everyone calling you names because of me?"
"No, no! That makes zero sense, Sebastian. Every girl at my school knows who you are. And they love you. They worship you. They even praised me when they were told that you were paid to kiss me."
"Alright, then. I won't force you to tell me. I just want you to keep me updated. Let me know if things get worse."
"Actually, I don't think I'll have to worry about it."
Sebastian turns his head to look at me, and looks into my eyes with concern. "Why's that?"
"My parents are thinking about sending me to live with my aunt. Well, actually, they're getting a divorce. And, my mom sucks, my dad is being controlled by her, I hate going to this school and my home life, so yeah."
"Slow down. What? You're moving? Where does she live?"
"Five hours away."
"Fuck," he mutters under his breath, his voice changing significantly when he spoke at a normal volume again. "And this is what you want?"
"No! I mean, yes. This is the best option there is right now."
"Atarah, I am so sorry," he apologizes.
"For what? Sebastian, I-"
"No, please. Just listen to me. If I had any idea that this was going to happen, I never would have kissed you!"
"Oh my God, did you ever like me?" I take a step back.
"You know that's complicated."
"No, answer me. Are you gay, or not? Cause I'm obviously a girl. Not a guy. A princess, right? If I'm not such a monster, then kiss me, right here!" My voice raises until I'm yelling at him.
"Tarah, I'm not gonna kiss you," he says calmly as he looks the opposite way.
"Oh. I guess I have my answer."
"Look. I don't want to end things like this."
"End what? Our friendship? You know we can still text."
"Are you going to text me in all caps and blow up at me for no reason five hours away from me, like you're doing five feet from me?"
"Seb, I'm sorry. But you just confuse me. I don't know what you want!"
His eyes widened, as if I just slapped him across the face. I even saw him visibly flinch. He takes a deep breath, trying to find the right way to put whatever came out next without upsetting me further. "It sounds like we're both confused, Tarah. You should just go home. And when you're ready to talk to me, we can. And we'll say our goodbyes then."
"No, Seb, listen. You're not listening!"
"What's there to hear, Tarah? I fucked up your reputation because I'm not comfortable with my own sexuality. You've spelled it out in every possible way."
"I'm uncomfortable! I'm not happy here, and regardless of what could have happened that night, I'd still be here. But, you're right, that I should just go." I turn around, and don't even slow down as I walk out of his house. He calls for me to wait, and stay, and apologizes profusely. I just felt extra dramatic today. Jesse would be proud.
***Today is Monday. The day after I blew up at Sebastian. It felt like we just weren't on the same page, throughout the entire conversation. It felt like I was talking to an automated man's voice over the phone. The generic responses that don't clarify anything. Being mysterious or providing such little information. Like he was afraid to have a genuine conversation with me. All I wanted was to know how he felt, but he didn't even know that. What hurt the most was when he said that I too sounded confused about what I wanted.What I want is clear to me now. Focus on myself, and take care of myself. No more stress cleaning our house and breaking up my parent's fights or being tormented by the consequences of their mixed parenting styles. I won't have to worry about girls all around me assuming I'm just like them, or hating anyone who isn't just like them. I can start all over as Lucian, and leave my old life behind until I'm feeling comfortable enough to revisit it to spend time with Noa. Maybe this summer. Maybe after that. Christmas break? Whenever it is, I'll make sure that I'll be ready to tell Sebastian the truth about who I am. Regardless of where his feelings lie, it will be good to know that eventually, he will know the truth. And, I've thought a lot about what is most likely going to happen. He won't wait for me to find out if he likes me romantically. He's going to find a boyfriend, or experiment with an attractive woman, and continue without me. I guess I'm just relying on my future self being mentally stable enough to accept that he will be the one that got away.
I haul the ladder from our storage closet and position it in my room in front of my bookshelf. I toss them one by one onto my bed behind me, until I would no longer need the ladder to assist me. I grab the few plushies that had gathered dust on top of their heads, just sitting on the very top of my shelf for years now. I toss them onto the floor, watching in disgust as some of the dust particles and even some dust bunnies float about until they reach the floor. The last one, hidden in the corner, was a frog plushie that was holding a heart, saying to get better soon. This was from the summer before I got my tonsils removed, when I had an ear infection and a scratchy throat that lasted nearly a week. Jesse has always given people stuffed animals when they didn't feel well. It's something his grandpa would always do for him. I thought it was sweet. A lot of things in my bedroom would probably be kept here, in totes in the basement, or the extra bedroom. My dad was actually currently looking for empty boxes in that room we could use for my things. I finish clearing the shelf and wiping it down before setting out to find my father.
I go down the hall to the far right hallway, and then enter the third door on the left. The storage room. "Dad?" I called out a couple times, making sure he wasn't crouched down behind some of the boxes. I then tried the attic, the game room that Stefan used more than any of us, the second kitchen we never used, and then finally the basement.
"Dad, there you are. I've been looking all over."
"Oh, sorry kiddo," my dad laughs. He holds up a stack of polaroid photos he was looking at. "I'm guessing you won't miss the house?"
I shrug before crouching down next to him. He had a single light shining at the concrete wall to provide light in the darker corner of the basement. "Not really. I never really loved it."
"I guess we don't even use half the rooms, huh? But, your mom did inherit it from her father. All she had to pay for was to get the kitchens fixed."
"Even though we only ever use the one. Our family is so small. Doesn't aunt Maria have like nine children? I suppose it's a nice house, but we don't get much use out of it. It's more like an excuse to avoid each other. It's lonely."
"So, you're saying that you weren't happy here, even before all of this?"
"Well, kind of. I love you, and mom, and Stefan. But it seems like none of us were really that close, and even still now. We could all go to a different floor of the house if we were mad at each other. We have so much space."
"Too much," my dad sighs, standing up. "I'm so sorry that I couldn't have been a better father."
"Dad, you did the best you could. And I'm fine! If anyone's in the wrong here, it's mom."
"This isn't fine. You have to move in with your aunt because we chose to raise you here."
"Didn't you want to move back to Arizona after you and mom got married?" I ask cautiously.
"But she loved it here, so we stayed."
"That's because it's easy for people like her.. She didn't want to think that she wouldn't have a picture perfect family in the end."
"You're so smart. I guess I did something right after all. I wouldn't blame you if you stopped talking to your mom after you moved, but please forgive her at some point. for yourself at least, if not for her."
I found it odd that he was standing up for her, but not for himself, and not being more strong about it. Me leaving. "Of course. Of course. And I'll call you three times a week as promised, and text you every day. And listen, don't beat yourself up, dad. You're the best, really. Find yourself someone that makes you happy, or find happiness by finding yourself. Don't regret how you raised me." It's funny. Now I'm the one giving him the pep talks. "I hate to have to say this, but mom has a way with manipulating people. You did the best you could in this situation. I love you."
"I love you too, kiddo. Thank you so much for that. I want you to do the same. Find happiness by finding out who you are."
I take a step closer and tilt my head to the side. "So, what are you looking at? I thought you were looking for boxes."
"I got sidetracked when I was looking for a tote down here to put Stefan's old toys in. We're just one or two boxes short." He holds up a few pictures of me on my first day of preschool.
"Oh, wow. Look at me! And look at you!"
"I remember how badly you wanted that blue bookbag, even when all the other girls had pink ones. I didn't even think that kind of thing mattered until your mom brought it up. I actually still have the pink one down here somewhere. I went back to the store the next day to get you the one you wanted."
"I was so excited to be different that day. I wanted to stand out, even at that age."
"But then, you reached middle school," he finishes.
"Yep."
"I hope your last years of high school treat you well. You deserve it after all you've been through, Lucian."
"You're still calling me that?" I smile softly at him, appreciating that I didn't even have to ask.
"Oh, my bad. Have you chosen a different name? I suppose you were only nine, or ten. You know, I actually saved some of your gaming videos on my computer before you deleted them."
"No, no. I still like the name. I guess I'm just surprised. I really thought that you didn't support... people like me." I... didn't know he watched those.
"To be honest, I didn't understand Lora, and why she would transition to a woman. It's true I didn't contact her until recently. But I started thinking about it a lot more once I had a hunch about you. It hurt too much to think about, so I tried to convince myself that I was against it, and especially for your mom. I should have been more open with my feelings."
"Dad, I get it. Fake it 'til you make it. Now that you're being honest, and you're letting go, you've made it. Let's just worry about moving forward. I'll get my life back on track, same with yours, and I'll visit during the summers. And I may even come back permanently. I'm not sure yet."
"Whatever you decide," my dad begins, "I'll always support you, son."
My dad and I stay downstairs in the basement, reminiscing, talking about our feelings, and enjoying one of our last few days together for a while. Once my mom calls us for dinner, we both give each other a knowing look. Only a few more days of this for me. And soon, my dad will most likely be moving out as well. Neither of us knew if Stefan was going to live with dad or not. He would miss his precious game room, but if he moved in with dad, there would be less rules that made no sense, he could still go to the same school, and my mom would get what she deserves.
I practically inhaled the hamburger my mom served me, and the fries she made to go with it. Her cooking was the one thing I would truly miss about my mom. When I finish, I run back upstairs to watch my favorite movie I would always watch when I was sick, or sad. I had nearly every line memorized. When I finally pull my eyes away from the television, I realize that it is getting darker out, and I couldn't rely on natural light coming from my window. I turn on all the lights in my room, and clear the books off my bed. I found a bag that was big enough to put them all in. One of my old school bags. I work on cleaning the old stuffed animals, and keep the frog on my bed, next to my teddy bear. If I went looking, I could easily gather around fifteen little toys or plushies from Jesse he's gifted to me over the years. After debating whether or not I wanted to do any more work tonight, I decided to first do my school work. I only had a couple writing assignments left to do. It was pointless, but I wanted to at least feel like I was accomplishing something. My school still doesn't know I won't be back. My mom will be calling them tomorrow.
I really just guessed when filling out worksheets, didn't bother giving them to Noa to turn in to our teachers, and put my heart and soul into writing and English assignments. Writing has been my whole life recently. It started off as a hobby when I was younger. In the third grade, I was obsessed with writing short stories. I would present them to my teacher, Mrs. Kay, and she would display them for the class to read next to the rest of the books in the reading corner. She gave me confidence to continue. As I got older, I started to find my voice, and like most young writers, got heavily criticized for writing about controversial themes and topics. I would even fail some of my writing projects because I dared myself to break the rules, and write about what I wanted. My topics were either too gruesome, or had mention of "sensitive topics" like gay couples.
I haven't given much thought into what I want to study after high school. Being a doctor would be fun. I was raised to believe that I had to go to college, because my mom insisted both her children did. I don't hate the idea of going, but I fear that nobody will like my writing, or discourage me and say I won't amount to anything. But I would truly love to become a writer someday. A journalist. Writing my own stories, articles for the news, magazines, and stuff like that. But my mom has already prepared me for criticism, which is going to happen in any writer's life. She says that I can't just take journalism classes, or go to a two year community college. She used to be a doctor, but quit after she gave birth to me because she had married my rich father and inherited money from my grandpa. She sometimes picks up jobs now and then, but I would just say that it was a waste. All that hard work, to become that. I probably will end up studying medicine, or something dumb so I can say I've accomplished something, but all I really want is a family, a job, and meet my standards of living the dream. Publishing my work, and even being seen by just one or two people. And though medicine, or studying things like psychology would be cool, I had these other dreams that just seemed more fun, like writing. Now, they don't just seem like hobbies. It all seems possible now. Besides, Jesse is going to be a psychologist someday. He decided it when he was only ten years old.
I type away on my computer, finishing a five page persuasive essay on why we shouldn't be required to wear uniforms to school. That ended up being a total of ten pages when I was done with it. I print and staple my work, proudly laying down the essay on my desk. I gained nothing but a bit more practice at typing and using creative language. I didn't give a shit about uniforms. I mean, not enough that I would willingly choose to write about them. But everything I accomplished involving writing was something to be proud of. That's one more work closer to my goal. There are so many writers out there. I barely know any people around me that enjoy reading. But I'm doing this for myself, because I enjoy it. I'm going to continue to never fit into the mold someone made for me. Barely anyone is even happy with the fact that I'm transgender. But I didn't just wake up and say that I would be a guy for the rest of my life because I thought that people would like me better this way. Everything I do is because I want it.
And currently, I wanted to curl up with the new pile of stuffed animals I've formed on my bed today, and watch another one of my comfort movies while sucking on leftover candy canes from Christmas time in the dark. So, that's exactly what I did. I grab my phone, and take a picture of me with the plushies, in nothing but my binder and some basketball shorts because I knew he's seen me even less put together, and send it to Jesse.
He responds about thirty minutes later. By then, I had found another movie to watch. I returned to my bed after telling my parents good night. I checked my phone, happy to see he had finally texted me back.
Jesse: <3: "You still have those?? My God, I was so extra..."
Me: "Was? Haha, honestly finding those in my room really made my day. So thank you for being such a strange child." I tossed my phone off to the side, but it didn't take long for Jesse to answer.
Jesse <3: "You're welcome! I'm glad I could put a smile on your face. Speaking of which, I didn't see one in your photo. Everything alright?"
Oh, right. The photo. Looking back at it, I looked even more disheveled and distressed than I initially thought.
Me: "Eh. I'm getting a little nervous."
Jesse <3: "About going to a new school? I've been there before, and all I can say is to just be your normal self. Don't try to act cool or like a bad boy or you'll get made fun of all year. Trust me hon, I know."
Me: "Hahaha thanks, but I'm actually not worried about school. It's growing apart from Noa, and not knowing if I'll ever have a proper ending with Seb."
Jesse <3: "So I take it you haven't made up?"
Me: "It's only been a day, but yeah, no. I don't know, my life is just a mess right now."
Jesse <3: "I'm so sorry, man. Would a picture of me in a red wig and a sparkly pink dress cheer you up?"
Me: "Um, excuse me?? HAHA"
Jesse sends me a picture of himself in front of a mirror with his two cousins, Belle and Chrissy. They were both wearing silly wigs and accessories, and pink princess dresses. Now it made sense.
Me: "Aww, you're such a good cousin, playing dress up with them!"
Jesse <3: "Yeah, I'll try. Anyways, I have to play princesses with them now, so if you need anything, you can call me. Otherwise I might not answer my phone for a while."
Me: "Alright, sounds good. Thanks for cheering me up, my teddy bear!"
He replies with a blue heart emoji. I flop down onto my bed, stretch out, then roll over to see that it's already almost ten o'clock. I had nothing to do tomorrow really besides packing some more. I pretty much just have the rest of the week off from school to transition and prepare myself for a new school, and this weekend to move in with Lora.
Only, that didn't seem to be enough time to prepare for the things I would be feeling on Saturday. After nearly six hours stuck in a car or in and out of gas station bathrooms, I was feeling even more ready to be rid of this for a while. Usually, in most cases where I had to be in a car with my family for more than twenty minutes, I would listen to music with my earbuds. But my mom wanted me to spend as much quality time with the family, and confiscated them. I was forced to sit in the back of the car with Stefan and share some of my favorite moments with the family. Thankfully, my mom fell asleep after an hour into the car ride. My dad threw my earbuds back to me, and Stefan and I listened to music together.
"Hey. You wanna listen?"
He didn't even look up from his phone at first. He's never wanted to spend time with me, and I didn't expect this time to be any different. He just shrugs. I took this as a no, but then he held out his hand. I gave the other earbud to him.
"Oh, this is a good song. I forgot about it."
"Yeah, it takes me back," I sigh. I looked out the window, though there were nothing but trees for miles ahead of us. There isn't much to look at around here along the way.
"Wasn't this the song we would dance to in your room when we were little?"
"Yeah. Don't you remember?" I ask. "Mom would sing this to cheer us up when we were sad, but when you got older, she stopped. So you kept singing it, and let me dance on your feet."
"Hey, I've done more for you than that, right?" I didn't think that he wanted an actual answer, but I could hear the curiosity in his voice.
I pause for a long moment. "I don't know. Not that I can remember right now."
"Is that bad? I mean, it sounds sad."
"Stef, I could never force you to hang out with your little sibling."
He pauses the song and looks at me. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how to find things I had in common with my little sister."
"Stef, we both used to play video games, and play with remote control cars, remember?"
"Never together, though," he points out.
"I thought you didn't want to," I responded quietly.
"Oh. I guess we just kinda... missed each other. On the same path, but the opposite side?"
"That's how I feel with all of you guys some days," I shrug.
"Hey, is this about you... wanting to be a boy?"
"Oh, so dad told you?"
"I eavesdropped the other day. I'm sorry. But, I don't know. I still love you, and I wish that I would have known sooner. I think we could have been closer."
"Me too. So, you don't have a problem with it?"
He hesitates. "I feel like I should. But, I don't. You're my sister. I mean, my brother. We'll keep in touch, right?"
"Of course, Stef."Nothing was said after that. We stay silent as my mom sleeps, and my dad drives. When we are at our last gas station stop, twenty minutes away, my dad makes sure we are all awake. We all hurry and grab a drink or use the bathroom, and then we are back on the road. It's nearly five o'clock. I had gotten Lora's phone number the other day, so I texted her to let her know how close we were.
Me: "Hey Lora! We're about 20 mins away. Can't wait to see you!"
I hadn't told Lora, and my parents didn't either. My dad wanted to give me the chance to do it myself, and connect with her right away by talking to her about it. I think the part that I didn't really think about much until today, was the fact that I was going to be transitioning. I could use my preferred name at my new school. With my dad's permission, and Lora's guidance, I could start testosterone therapy. The whole thing was scary, but also super exciting. I know it's something I want, and I don't have doubts. I just don't think I'll be fully prepared for when I actually see the changes.
Lora: "Great, can't wait! Making spaghetti tonight for dinner, do you want garlic bread to go with?"
Me: "Ooh yes please!"
Lora was so kind to let me stay, and cook for me. Didn't expect anything from me. Of course, I was going to respect her, her rules, and her house.
I think about all the things I'd be experiencing, all the new changes, everything in store for me. But I'm still not fully prepared for my life finally beginning. The life I've always wanted. It's like I'm starting over as a brand new person. Someone able to remember their past life while living their new, current one.
"Alright, we're here. Bianca, Stefan, each grab a box, please." My dad gets out of the car and meets me in front of Lora's house. It was gray, with a darker colored roof. The door was white, and there was a deck at the front. It looked to be two stories tall. I turned to face my dad, but he was already walking toward the door to knock on it. I quickly make my way up to the deck. Lora opens the door just a second later. She's smiling warmly, her long, straight, dark hair blowing around a bit in the wind. She first greets my dad, and I could tell just how happy she was, but I also detect a pained expression on her face. It isn't until she pulls away from my father's hug that she even notices me.
"Hey, hi! Oh my gosh, look at you! You look so much like your dad! It's so great to finally meet you, honey!" She extends her arms for a hug. I happily wrapped my arms around her, which even surprised me. I didn't realize I would be so happy to finally see my aunt. "Welcome, Atarah."
I look off to the side, to see what my dad is doing. Thankfully, he was struggling to get one of the bigger boxes out of the car, so he yelled for me to come help him. Lora opens the door for my mom and my brother, who were carrying a box and a tote each. I run to the car to help my struggling father, and end up carrying the box in by myself.
I was greeted by the smell of spaghetti sauce, and the sound of soft, classical music playing in the background. An orange cat trots into the dining room across from the entrance of the house, and over by my feet. I set the box down carefully and pet the cat, who seemed to like me. After seeing the other cat, who was gray and white, I assumed that he was Ray, and the orange one was Sunny. My mom and brother were already hauling in more boxes, while I was just trying to take in my surroundings. Modern furniture, with nice warm colors, and plants and crystals in front of a large window in the living room. Everything looked so cozy and welcoming.
We continue to haul everything inside and leave the box in the living room for Lora and I to deal with later. She was finishing making dinner. Once I see that there's only two bags, and a box left, I head back outside, but stop in my tracks as I hear my parents fighting.
***I'm sitting on the bathroom floor, with scissors in my hands. I was being ridiculous. If I was going to do this, I had to stand up. I finally got the courage to let go. I stand up in front of the mirror, holding Lora's green scissors I found in the cabinet.Only three minutes later, the sound of my boots echoed through the hall as I went out to the car to take care of one last thing, and bring in my very last two bags and box. I take a deep breath before opening the door, and telling my mom and dad goodbye, who nearly dropped my last two bags of clothes when they saw me. Atarah was finally saying her goodbyes, and leaving for good.
"Atarah? Is that you, hun? I'm in the kitchen!" Lora calls as I enter the house.
"It's Lucian, actually. And, yeah, it's me."
She opens her mouth in disbelief, but soon changes her expression to match mine. Lora's eyes light up with joy and pride as I step into the kitchen, in a button up shirt Jesse gifted me, and the pair of jeans Noa bought me, and my wavy hair cut above my shoulders. Her sympathetic half-smile and her head shaking in awe was all the confirmation I needed before collapsing into her arms in a hug. The pigtails I cut off remained in my hands, my lip quivering and my eyes pink and puffy, but smiling brighter than I have in six years.