Be a girl

The next day at school, I asked Claire how she was doing after last night’s fiasco. She responded with a non-committal “fine”. She looked away from me, which all but told me that she was not, in fact, fine, but that I shouldn’t push the issue. I was worried this might happen, but there was nothing I could do, so I let her be.

Oscar was absent at recess, as I expected. I pulled Rachel aside and explained the events from the previous night, to which she did not take too kindly. She frowned but didn’t interrupt me. Once I was done, she stormed off in search of Oscar, to do whatever it was she thought was necessary to have the boy see some sense. Chew him out, I suspected. She was good at that.

I didn’t see her for the rest of recess.

The three of us that remained – Izzy, Claire, and I – stayed quiet all through recess. We sat on the grass and watched as the clouds drifted slowly in the wind, without a word shared between us. The mood was too sombre.

Rachel returned to the friend group at lunchtime, but there was still no Oscar. He was being mopey again, Rachel explained. As if it weren’t his own fault. She said that she tried talking some sense into him, but all her attempts had failed. The boy was too stubborn, and failed to see how he was doing this all to himself. She eventually gave up.

Rachel did give Claire a hug, knowing that she was the one most affected by Oscar’s actions. She shouldn’t have to go through all this, but what could we do? We’d all tried our best, but Oscar refused to budge. He was throwing away his friendship with Claire – no, all of us – and for what? I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Whatever. His loss.

Claire informed me that she would not be walking home with me that night, as she would be signing up for the school softball team with Rachel. I wished her the best and made my way home. That night wasn’t very eventful. The mood was depressing, but there was nothing to be done about that. Same as usual. The only notable thing really was that I messaged Oscar saying “I hope you’re happy” before immediately closing the app so that I wouldn’t see his reply. If he even did reply.

***

I was surprised to find Claire especially cheery when I entered homeroom the next day. A bright smile was on her face, and she enthusiastically waved me over to my desk. It was a stark contrast to the day before, where she was all doom and gloom. Something about her current cheeriness didn’t sit right with me. She’d just lost her friend a couple of days ago; she couldn’t have gotten over that already.

“Hi Ben!” she beamed as I sat down beside her, waving her hand vigorously.

“Um, hi?” I replied, still confused by her sudden enthusiasm.

“It’s such a lovely day, isn’t it?” Claire asked a little too excitedly.

I didn’t agree with her at all. These past few days had been positively awful. And that was just for me. She had it far far worse than me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Her smile was so unusually bright that it was uncanny. Her voice was extra ecstatic, to the point where it felt fake.

Like she was putting on a mask. To convince herself and others that everything was fine, and nothing was wrong, even when the entire world was bearing down on her. Like she had every day before I’d transformed her, when she was in the depths of despair.

The last time I saw this level of enthusiasm was right before she’d been transformed. When she was very much still pretending like the world was sunshine and daisies, when in reality, she was more depressed than ever. I had just shunted her away from me, in a futile attempt at preventing her from discovering my secrets – secrets which she’d known for far longer than I had anticipated. She had acted like nothing had happened at all.

And right now, she was back to that fake excitement. Something bad had happened. Something on top of Oscar leaving the friend group. I didn’t know what, but whatever it was, it clearly stuck a nasty blow to her mood.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, lacing my voice with as much concern as I could. She stared at me, her smile faker than I’d ever seen it. It was eery. Uncanny. I didn’t like it one bit.

“Nothing’s wrong!” she exclaimed, the excitement in her voice wavering. I just stared at her. “I’m as happy as can be!” she continued. I had never heard a more obvious lie from her.

I pursed my lips. While I wanted to know what was troubling her, I doubted that she’d divulge anything no matter how hard I tried. Not in her current state. Deny everything and act like you’re on top of the world. It was a losing battle.

When we met up with Izzy at recess, Claire was still wearing the same overly jovial mask. She gave the both of us an ecstatic greeting, with an enthusiastic wave and a grin from ear to ear. It was as unnerving as in homeroom. So much so that it shocked Izzy.

She stood before our tall friend, wide-eyed and unspeaking. She must have known that something was up as well. We both knew that Claire should be depressed, just as she was the day before. And yet she was beaming at the both of us.

“You seem awfully chipper today,” Izzy noted.

“Mhmm,” Claire nodded cheerfully, “I feel better than ever!”

“Even after how Oscar has treated you?”

Claire waved her hand dismissively at Izzy and scoffed. “That’s yesterday’s news. I’m over it. That boy can do whatever he wants. I don’t care.”

Izzy raised a finger as if to rebut her friend, but soon lowered it and furrowed her brow. I knew for sure that Claire was lying. She cared about all of her friends ever so deeply. It was obvious, even to an outsider. She absolutely could not have gotten over the loss of Oscar so quickly. I didn’t believe it.

“Um, Claire,” Izzy said, notably softer than before. The tall girl tilted her head. “Are you ok?”

“Of course!” Claire exclaimed loudly. “I’m as radiant as a rainbow!”

I ignored her pretend merriment, and instead focused on the mysterious lack of Rachel. She wouldn’t be off trying to talk sense into Oscar; she’d already tried that and failed. She knew her friend would be struggling with loss right now, so she should be here, consoling her, helping her through the tough times. She wouldn’t just abandon Claire to have a chat with some other students at the school.

And yet she was absent.

“Hey, um, where’s Rachel,” I piped up. Both girls turned to stare at me.

“That is an excellent question,” Izzy replied.

“She’s probably just sick or something, I’m sure she’s fine,” Claire shrugged.

“You sure? She seemed fine yesterday,” Izzy said. “You also seem sure that she’s not at school today, rather than her being off doing something else.” I agreed with this assessment. While still plausible, it seemed highly unlike that Rachel would have contracted an illness overnight. And that still didn’t explain why Claire was acting so strangely.

“Oh yeah true!” Claire said.

Izzy rubbed her chin pensively. “Unless something happened to her at softball practice last night.” She looked up at Claire. “You were there last night, right? Did anything happen to her?”

Claire burst into tears.

It was a shock to see Claire go from a wide cheery grin to a fit of tears in mere moments. Isabel immediately swooped in to comfort the sobbing girl, wrapping her up in a tight hug. The two stayed in each other’s embrace for quite a while. I remained off to the side, unsure of exactly what to do.

I wanted to comfort my friend. But I didn’t know how. I didn’t know what to do. My friend was struggling, and I simply stood off to the side, staring expressionlessly. My heart ached for her, but I didn’t know how to express that. I let Izzy console Claire. She was doing a good job already, far better than I could. She knew her better anyway.

They did eventually break apart – Claire having calmed down substantially – which made me feel less awkward. She wiped away the tears with the back of her hand and sniffled once again. She muttered a soft “thanks” to Izzy.

“Better?” Izzy said quietly, rubbing Claire’s arm gently.

Claire nodded and smiled down at her friend, her face still red and puffy from the crying. “Yeah.”

“Now, why don’t you tell us what happened,” Izzy spoke in a soft, soothing voice, intended to help calm her distressed friend.

“I wasn’t allowed to join the softball team,” Claire sniffled, looking away from Izzy and me.

“That’s awful!” Izzy exclaimed, “Do you know why?”

Claire grimaced, clenching her fists tightly. “They said I was a fucking man!” she roared before becoming instantly overwhelmed with sobs once again, covering her face with her hands. Izzy swooped in to comfort her for a second time, leaving me once again feeling awkward, not knowing how to help.

It suddenly struck me that Claire wasn’t only upset at being rejected from the softball team. Sure, being excluded from a sport team would suck, especially if one enjoyed sport. But I wouldn’t expect it to hurt more than a small sting to one’s ego.

But it definitely seemed there was more to Claire’s distress than being rejected from the team. No. She was upset because whoever was in charge thought she was a man. There was no way Claire was faking these tears. That meant she was nothing like the other people whom I’d transformed: she clearly liked being a girl. So much so that she was distraught after being considered a man.

Was she like me? Had she always secretly wanted to be a girl? I didn’t like the idea that the person who’d held out a helping hand for me was a freak like me. I wanted to expunge the thought from my mind. It was too painful. Claire was a good person. She didn’t deserve to be compared to me, a disgusting creature who should by all means just disappear. But I couldn’t. Claire was right there. The evidence was undeniable. She liked being a girl. Denying it would be disingenuous, so I couldn’t. And I didn’t know how to feel about that.

Claire and Izzy broke away from their hug, and Claire thanked the short girl for the comfort once again. Izzy forced a smile. “That’s awful,” she said. Claire just sighed in response. “But wait. Rachel was there. Surely she wouldn’t just let the coach call you a man.”

Claire bit her lip. She clearly wanted to say something but was contemplating whether she should. Eventually, she decided to spit it out. “Rachel got suspended.”

“What!?” Izzy cried while my eyes bulged out of their sockets from the sheer shock of those three words. That sounded extremely unlike Rachel.

Claire sighed and rubbed at her arm nervously. She hung her head, staring at her feet. “Rachel. She. When the coach called me a man, she punched her in the face. I restrained her so she wouldn’t hurt anyone else, but the damage was done. She was kicked off the team and got a suspension until the end of the week.”

That sounded much more like Rachel. “Holy shit,” Izzy muttered under her breath.

***

The mood for the rest of the week remained rather glum. Claire didn’t bother trying to repair her mask. Instead, she let her true depressive mood show. She, Izzy and I kept our conversations away from personal topics during our recess and lunch at school, so as to not agitate fresh wounds. Claire, the poor girl, had really had a rough first few weeks as a girl. And none of it was her fault.

Part of me felt guilty. If I hadn’t transformed her, then none of this would have happened. But I remembered my promise to dad all those months ago: not to blame myself for any of this. As difficult as it was, I reminded myself that I never meant to transform her. Not to mention that she definitely preferred her current form over her old one, as much grief as it had caused her.

Rachel came back the next Monday, looking not so much upset, as full of contempt. When Izzy asked why she punched the softball coach, she scowled and punched a fist into her open palm, explaining that she would do it again if need be. She was not messing around. Do not insult her friends.

Things returned to normal after that. Well, mostly. Oscar still refused to speak with Claire. Rachel tried talking some sense into him a couple times, but he refused to budge. This did not go over well with her, especially since she considered the online duel between Oscar and Claire to be a trivial affair. She eventually gave up.

Claire was still quite upset with her friend’s behaviour, though she did try to hide it. Her mood had mellowed out for the most part; no longer was she overcompensating with enthusiasm as a mask to hide the pain. That was unless someone mentioned Oscar, in which case she donned a silly grin and did her best to change the subject. Rachel, Izzy and I all eventually agreed to stop talking about Oscar, for Claire’s sake.

I noticed that a few people had continued to give disgusted Claire glances, as well as distasteful remarks. She did her best to ignore them, and I wished that I could do something to help her. Unfortunately, I was too much of a coward. She’d done so much for me, and yet I couldn’t return the favour.

Our maths teacher was by far the worst offender. Even after weeks, he still ‘struggled’ to get both Claire’s name and pronouns correct. Of course, he wasn’t actually struggling, that was merely his excuse. I suspected the truth was he didn’t want to gender Claire correctly, but had to at least put up a charade so that he didn’t get in trouble with the school administration. I suggested that she report his behaviour, but she brushed me off, explaining that it wasn’t worth it. Still despite everything, Claire took everything in stride. At least, she seemed to.