Authors: Julie Anne Peters
“I’m sorry.” My voice was raspy. That’s all I could say, I’m sorry. It sounded as hollow as I felt. I was so confused; I couldn’t reconcile my feelings. I loved my brother, but I hated this transition.
“You did what you had to do,” she said.
No, I didn’t have to. It was my choice. “I didn’t mean to leave you there with Hoyt. Not on purpose.”
“I know. I’m sorry I put you in that position. I didn’t think you’d be there after school. I wasn’t thinking. It was selfish. I’ve been expecting too much of you —”
“No.”
“Yes,” she insisted, squeezing my forearm. “Yes, Re. I’m always in here crying on your shoulder, asking your advice, taking up your time. It isn’t fair to you. All these years, I haven’t been fair to you.” She sat back on her haunches. “I’ve been so self-centered, so self-absorbed. I haven’t taken your feelings into consideration. I’ve leaned on you too hard. Depended on you too much.”
No, I wanted to argue. I wanted to say, I’m your sister. You
can
depend on me. You should. But the words wouldn’t come. I couldn’t force them out. “Why did you dress at school?” I asked her. “Why did you have to do that?”
She lowered her eyes. “You said it: I had to. I had to test myself. To see if I could go through with it. I needed to know that I had the self-confidence, the will to do it every day.”
She was going to do it every day? I’d never have a life. She didn’t get it; my feelings meant nothing to her.
Luna reached over and smoothed my messy hair back off my face. I flinched at her touch. “I’m sorry if I hurt you,” she said quietly, “or humiliated you in front of Chris. I was only doing what needs to be done. This is life or death for me, Re. If I don’t transition, I don’t want to live.”
All the blood drained from my face. How could she say that? She couldn’t mean it.
Our eyes met and understanding flowed between us. Total comprehension.
Life or death.
I got it. I finally got it. The change had to come in me. My acceptance of Luna, my support of her transition, my seeing her as a real person.
“Did Hoyt hurt you?” I asked.
Luna exhaled an irritated breath. “That moron. No, I survived.” She clenched my arm. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Re. I survived. I lived. I proved myself today. I
want
to live. I can. You did that for me. You made me stand on my own two feet, gave me the push I needed; you required me to face it alone, which is what I have to do eventually.”
My tears welled again. I hated that she had to do this alone. I hated her struggle, her battle, her war with herself, with me, with everyone in the world. This was just the beginning.
Luna stood and padded across my room to the full-length mirror. Pulling the silk-screened tee she was wearing over her head, she examined her left shoulder under her bra strap. “Oh, lovely,” she said. “I’m going to have an ugly bruise. Do you think foundation will cover this?” She twisted around to show me.
It was a huge welt, big as a fist. Hoyt had left his mark on her. I hoped he was proud of himself, beating up on a girl. Luna may have to survive this transition, I thought, but she wasn’t alone in the world. Throwing off my covers, I said, “Go get your makeup. Bring your stuff back in here. We’ll fix it so good no one will ever know.”
The mirror on the medicine cabinet was cracked down the middle. I had to bob my head around to get a full view as I braided my hair. It wasn’t as long as it used to be, and I hadn’t worn a French braid in years, and I’d forgotten how to plait it...
Liam’s hands covered mine. “Let me,” he said.
I relinquished the mess to him.
He smiled at me in the mirror. One side of his face was higher than the other, split in half. I noticed behind him by the door he’d dropped a duffel. A surge of panic rushed through me.
As if reading me, Liam said, “I won’t put you through that again. I’m not going to dress at school anymore. It’s enough to know I can. I don’t particularly relish the thought of getting pounded to a pulp every day. I’ll drop you off if you want.”
Relief flooded through my veins. I didn’t want to feel relieved. I wanted her to be herself, to know I’d support her. I wanted not to care so much about me.
Liam banded the end of my braid and added, “I’m going to the mall to buy myself a birthday present. Do you want anything? Hey, you found your other shoe.”
I followed his eyes to my feet. “Yeah.” I couldn’t smother my grin. “Chris found it.” He’d washed it off and buried it in the bottom of my purse. Inside the shoe he’d stuffed a tiny music box that played
Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.
How sweet was that?
Liam wiggled his eyebrows. “Do I hear wedding bells?”
“Shut up.” I shoved him out of the bathroom, shutting the door on his smirking face.
As I was heading to the cafeteria for lunch, Alyson materialized at my side. “Would you give this to Liam?” She handed me a present, adding, “Or Luna, or whoever he is today.”
Had she heard about yesterday? That kind of news would have spread like an e-mail virus. I was bracing for the fallout, but so far nothing. If people were avoiding me, it’d be hard to tell.
The present was wrapped in
Rugrats
birthday paper. My gaze lifted to Aly. She didn’t look so good. Her eyes were red and bloodshot.
“It’s men’s cologne,” she stated flatly. “Tell him I would’ve gotten him perfume if I’d known. He can exchange it.” She slapped the receipt on top of the present and took off.
“Aly,” I called.
She was speeding away, halfway through the atrium before I caught up with her. I grabbed her arm. “I just want to say one thing.”
She turned, and nailed my coffin with a glare.
The entire spirit squad flounced by us, laughing and joking around. We both waited until they passed. I lowered my voice and said, “He’s still the same person you’ve always known. Just happier as a girl.”
She opened her mouth, and shut it. Shaking her head at the skylight, she said, “But I’m not the same. What does this make me? A lesbian? I don’t think so.” She broke away from me and stalked off.
I shouted at her back, “If you really loved him, it wouldn’t matter.”
She lowered her head and ducked into the nearest restroom. That was cruel, Regan, I admonished myself. How would you feel? You’re so noble.
I wanted to go after Aly, but didn’t know what else there was to say to her. And I couldn’t stand to see her cry.
My eyes dropped to the box in my hand. The receipt. Wow. She’d spent sixty-five dollars on his present. That was another factoid I’d never divulged to Aly — every bottle of men’s cologne Liam had ever received as a gift got flushed down the toilet.
Sixty-five dollars. His birthday was Saturday and I hadn’t bought him a thing.
Hmm. I could exchange this cologne for a bottle of Passion, I thought, Luna’s favorite perfume. I’d tell Liam it was from Aly, that she was beginning to come around.
No, it would only cause him more pain when he found out the truth. And he didn’t need any more hurt in his life. No more lies. I’d give him the perfume as a present from me, even if Luna already had three gallons of it stowed in her treasure chest.
Chris called that night. Shocker. He said he’d been trying to find me all day, that he’d waited at my locker before and after school and I never showed. A thrill rippled through me. He actually waited for me.
“Are you blowing me off — again?” he intoned.
“No, of course not.” Was I? Maybe. Probably. Yes. He’d seen Luna. How would he react? He’d look at me differently now. He’d see Liam as a freak.
“Were you absent?” Chris asked. “You’re not sick, are you?” He sounded worried.
Worried about me. “No.” I smiled to myself. “I didn’t go to my locker this morning. Or after school.” I didn’t stop there all day for fear of what I’d find. Messages. A mob. Clones of Hoyt. “I left right from class so I could go buy my brother a birthday present.”
Chris didn’t respond.
Was he going to ask? Make a joke about Liam? He wasn’t talking. Was he still on the line? “Hello?”
“So, um,” Chris cleared his throat, “where did you get those chemistry papers?”
I expelled the breath I’d been holding. “Don’t ask.”
“Don’t you want them? Or did you already make a copy?”
“No. I decided if I’m going down, Bruchac can kiss my ass. I’ll just repeat chemistry next year. Or take something else. Maybe genetics. I hear girls are good at reproduction.”
Chris laughed. He actually laughed. It made me laugh. Broke the tension. He said, “There’s a problem with Friday night.”
My heart stopped beating. I knew it. It was over. He couldn’t deal.
“My mom is having this rehearsal dinner and she wants me and Pam to be there.”
Good excuse. I wondered how long he’d been working on it.
“Regan?”
“Yeah. No problem,” I said quickly. Eclipse. Hang up the phone. Need to implode.
“So could we change it to Saturday?” he said. “I know it’s short notice and you probably have plans . . .”
My head was spinning. Plans? What plans? “No problem,” I said.
“Yeah? Okay, cool.” He sounded happy. Relieved. He couldn’t be as happy and relieved as me.
“What time should I pick you up?” he asked. “I was thinking we’d go to a movie. Maybe eat first.”
Eat? As in handle silverware? “You don’t want me anywhere near knives,” I told him.
“I’ll take my chances,” he said with a smile in his voice. “I’m not afraid of you. Remember, I have armor.”
“Did you a lot of good last time. Be afraid,” I warned him. “Be very afraid.”
He laughed again. So did I. It went on like that for two hours. Just stupid stuff. Jokes. Laughter. Chris didn’t mention Liam. Neither did I. The subject never came up. The time wasn’t right.
When would the time ever be right?
The answer to that one was easy. I guess I just wanted to pretend for as long as possible that it wouldn’t ever matter.
L
iam was still in the shower when I peeked out my bedroom door Saturday morning. Good. I could sneak into his room and deposit my birthday present on his mattress.
Or not. I’d changed my mind about his gift. The new box was so tiny, he might sit on it. Instead, I left the present on his treasure chest, along with the card I’d addressed to “Lunatic.” He wouldn’t miss that.
Mom was in Code Blue crisis when I got upstairs.
“What do you mean they double-booked? They can’t
do
that!” she screeched into her cell phone. My ears squinched. Even Dad put down his newspaper and frowned at her. “Well, it’s first come, first serve. What?” She listened, her chest heaving. “Dammit, Andy! Where are we going to find a place
now
for a wedding reception two weeks
away
?”
God, take another Valium, I thought.
A box of Krispy Kreme Doughnuts sat open on the counter and I helped myself. The traditional O’Neill birthday breakfast, after Mom stopped baking cakes.
“
Who
got food poisoning from our caterer?” Mom hyperventilated. “Well, my
gawd.
”
Food poisoning? I dropped the doughnut back into the box. My stomach was breeding butterflies, anyway. Eight hours and counting till Chris. What was I going to wear? I’d trolled through my closet twice already and all the clothes on my floor three times. Nothing screamed Hot Date. I needed Luna’s expertise.
Mom was still flaming about her caterer getting closed down by the health department when the door to the basement opened and my brother emerged. Rather ... my sister. “Good morning.” Luna strolled through the kitchen. Dad had his back to her, but Mom’s eyes fixed on the apparition. She shrieked, “Andy, we can’t have beans and franks!” She rotated on her chair so she was facing away from us.
Luna selected a lemon-filled doughnut and brought it to the table. Her outfit was new — a short jean skirt and yellow sweater set. She’d chosen the brown curly wig. As she slid into her seat, she began to sing softly, “Happy Birthday to Me.”
Surreal. I swallowed down my panic, for her sake. Of course this would be the next step in her transition. She had to do it sometime. Still . . .
She met my eyes and winked. Her face held a mixture of emotions: strength, defiance, fear. Make that terror.
“Happy birthday, Luna,” I said, lifting my OJ in a toast.
“Thanks,” she replied, toasting me back with her milk.
At some point Dad must’ve checked in because he turned his head and spluttered, “What the —”
“Get hold of Ellen Rosenberg and tell her we have a problem. Explain the situation. No, better yet, let me do that. You start calling around to every hotel and community room and estate we’ve ever used and find out what’s available. Call me back.” Mom punched the off button. She huffed and swiveled around to us. Her focus fell on Luna and she looked at her, through her, the way your eyes settle on an object you don’t really see. Your mind is somewhere else, anywhere else. Luna smiled at her. It was almost imperceptible, but Mom’s head shook from side to side. Her gaze lowered and she flipped open her Daytimer on the table.
Dad said, “What is this? Some kind of senior prank? You pulling a stunt this weekend?”
Luna licked her lips. Her cranberry-colored lips. Clasping her hands in her lap, she said, “Dad, I’m a transsexual.”
My breath caught. I’d never heard her say that word. It was always transgender. TG or trans. Transsexual. It took it to another level. More of an official declaration.
She added, “I’d like to change my name to Luna, with your blessing. And yours, Mom.” Luna addressed the presence at the other end of the table. What was with Mom? Back to Dad. “It’s the name I’ve chosen to represent the person I truly am.”
In response, Mom murmured to herself, “Food poisoning? Am I liable for that?” Dad threw back his head and laughed.
Luna found my eyes. And died inside.
Dad wheezed, “Good one.” He reached over and whapped Luna’s shoulder. “The joke’s on me.”
“No.” Luna’s gaze penetrated him. “This is who I am. This is who I’ve always been.”
Silence. The air in the room changed. Dad’s face sobered. Hardened. Mom flipped a page.