Be a girl

I was just about to get into bed, when I heard a quiet knocking on my door. I shuffled over to the door and opened it, revealing my brother standing on the other side. He looked up at me, dejected. A worrying sight, but I had sadly gotten used to it now. Him knocking on my door at this time – over an hour after his bedtime – was highly unusual, however.

“What’s wrong?” I asked cautiously.

He sighed deeply, staring down at the floor. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Highly unusual indeed. “Of course.” I moved out of his way to let him through before shutting the door. James hopped into my bed and pulled the sheets over his body tightly. I followed him, laying down beside him, pulling the sheets over myself as well. It was rather squished – I only had a single bed – but James didn’t seem to mind.

We laid in the bed together silently for a while, our heads resting on the pillow, staring at each other.

“What’s the matter, James?” I asked finally.

He sighed sombrely and rolled over to look away from me. “I don’t want to go to mum’s tomorrow.”

It was my turn to sigh now. Poor kid. I placed a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it gently with my fingers. “I know, James,” I said. It was hardly the reassurance he needed, but I was hardly any good at this sort of thing. I couldn’t blame him for his feelings. Mum’s treatment of him had worn him down severely over the months, and I saw no sign of his mood improving. Sure, mum no longer forced him to wear dresses while over at her place, but did that really matter anymore? He was forced to wear a dress the other five days of the week when he was at school anyway. Not to mention that the outfits mum allowed James to wear on the weekends were still particularly feminine.

I noted the length of his hair, it now reaching down to his ears. Mum wouldn’t have ever allowed it to be so long before, but now she was insisting that it be far far longer. Now that James was a ‘girl’, she always styled his hair for him, making it much more feminine than it otherwise would have been. He was looking less and less like a boy each day, even while here at dad’s place where he was allowed to be himself, all because of mum’s influence. Of course, dad couldn’t go and take James to a hairdresser to get a short, masculine haircut because mum would freak out. Who knows what she’d do if that were to happen. It wouldn’t be good; I knew that much.

Mum didn’t let me start growing my hair out until I was a teenager, and even then, I was still severely limited by my old school’s rules. My own hair was now the longest it had ever been as well, now that I was no longer restricted. I didn’t see myself cutting it anytime soon. I wanted to grow it out; a desire I’d always had. I wanted to style my hair femininely, just like mum was forcing James to do, but I knew that would never happen.

I wished that James and I could swap places, to be in each other’s shoes, even though I knew this twisted desire was wrong. Every single time James was made to be miserable, it pained me. Not just because my little brother was being hurt, but also because I wished it could have happened to me instead. The feelings that I wanted what was happening to him to happen to me only exacerbated the terrible pit in my stomach.

I wanted to wear all the cute clothes mum made James wear, to style my hair femininely, to be a pretty girl. I wanted mum to treat me like her daughter. I wanted everyone to treat me like the girl I always wanted to be.

But that couldn’t happen. Because life just was not fair.

“I asked dad if I could stay here tomorrow,” James whispered. He looked down gloomily. “He said no.”

“It’s not up to him,” I said. “If dad doesn’t let mum get her way… she might do something even more horrible than she’s already doing.”

“It’s not fair!” James shouted, right in my ear. I winced from his outburst and clamped my hands over my ears instinctively. James took note of my discomfort and took it as a signal to quiet his voice, allowing me to uncover my ears. “It’s not fair,” he whispered.

“I know,” I sighed, “But that’s how it is.”

“I hate it,” he pouted.

“So do I.”

“Is there anything I can do to not have to go to mum’s?”

I thought for a moment. What could he do? There wouldn’t be much, I knew that. I thought back to a few weeks ago, not long after the school year started. Dad took James and me to Claire’s cricket game. Perhaps something along those lines could work.

“You could ask to go to a friend’s house?” I suggested.

“I don’t have any friends.”

Oh. So, that idea was a bust. I should have expected that. I had a distinct feeling that at school, James insisted to the other kids that he was really a boy, and they likely thought he was weird because of it. Of course they wouldn’t want to associate with anyone like that. There was not a chance in the world my friends would have accepted me if I went on and on about wanting to be a girl.

“Perhaps I could convince mum to let me go to a friend’s house tomorrow, and have you tag along as well.”

James mulled my suggestion over for a moment. It wasn’t the best idea in the world, but my options were rather limited. It wouldn’t actually prevent James from going over to mum’s place, but it would mean that he wouldn’t have to spend as much time with her. He’d have more time as himself. Of course, the only real solution to James’ predicament was to convince mum to stop treating him like a girl, but I sincerely doubted that would happen. She was far too stubborn and set in her ways to have her mind changed.

“I guess, if you think it’ll work,” James replied.

“I can’t make any guarantees, nor will it be for the whole weekend. But a few extra hours as a boy is still good, right?”

“Mhmm.”

“Now, why don’t we get some sleep and deal with tomorrow when it comes?”

“Ok,” he nodded, his voice barely above a whisper.

***

I barely got any sleep last night. Not because I was anxious or because my thoughts were racing. No, it was because James slept in my bed with me, and that made it exceptionally difficult for me to get some rest.

I did spend some of that time pondering exactly to whose house we should go. Which didn’t take long, admittedly. The obvious choice was Claire. Of all my friends she would definitely be the most understanding of James’ predicament, as someone whom I had also transformed. Not to mention she would be eager to help in whatever way she could.

The rest of the time I spent contemplating what I would say to mum to try and convince her to allow both James and me to spend the day at Claire’s house. Unfortunately, it did mean I would have to lie, which I was worried she might see right through. I didn’t feel so bad about lying to mum, not anymore. But I sucked at lying. I always did my best to layer it with as much truth as I could to be more convincing. The fewer lies, the fewer chances for mum to see through my ruse.

We both refrained from telling dad about our plan, deciding it best to not bring him into it for his own sake. Dad not being involved meant mum couldn’t blame him for anything, if it came to that (which I hoped it wouldn’t).

When dad dropped us off at mum and Miranda’s house, I didn’t immediately ask her for permission to go to Claire’s. Instead, I texted Claire if it was ok if I showed up at hers, emphasising that there was no guarantee that I would. She replied that I was always welcome, even if I showed up completely unannounced.

With that all done, I set about performing the difficult task: convincing mum. My plan was thus: mum had already met Claire, and she knew that I’d transformed her. At that time, she commented that Claire was doing a far better job than ‘Chloe’ at embracing her newfound femininity. So, I told mum that Claire wanted to talk to ‘Chloe’, and maybe help ‘her’ come to terms with being a girl now.

Mum was… sceptical, to say the least. When she didn’t buy my bullshit story, I pivoted, claiming that it would also be good for Claire to talk to someone in a similar situation to her; someone who had also been transformed by me. And also that I had missed many opportunities to go to a friend’s house in the past few years owing to the fact that I hadn’t had any friends while attending my old school, so I needed to make up for that. Thankfully, she agreed.

I texted Claire on the way over to tell her to refer to James as ‘Chloe’ while in the presence of my mother, to which I received an “Ok” and a “Why”. I didn’t respond, preferring to explain that to her in person.

“Hi Ben, hi Chloe, hi Mrs. Ashford,” Claire said at the door to her house. She was wearing tight jeans and a white tshirt underneath an unbuttoned flannelette shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Not exactly what I would call feminine attire, but I had to admit it did look good on her. At least she wasn’t wearing ugg boots.

Her hair was hanging loosely, tickling her shoulders – as it usually did – the soft curls giving it just a little bit of bounce. I noted that there was no hint of makeup on her face. I had yet to see her wear makeup, so it wasn’t too surprising. It did not bode well for convincing mum that Claire had adjusted to her newfound femininity however.

“Ben insisted that you could help my daughter adjust to being a girl,” Mum said, getting straight to the point. “Are you sure?”

Claire glanced over at me for guidance. I made a subtle nod, hoping that she understood that I wanted her to go along with what my mum was saying. “Of course,” Claire grinned. It was the kind of fake grin she put on whilst she was still going by ‘Jaxon’. The kind that seemed real to an outside observer, but anyone in the know could instantly tell that it was all an act. It was, in a word, overcompensation. “Who better to teach her than someone in the same situation?”

Mum pursed her lips, not seeming so convinced. I couldn’t possibly see why. It wasn’t like Claire was wearing an outfit that was unfeminine in any way. Or the fact that she wasn’t wearing makeup. Surely not.

This was such a dumb idea. It was never going to work.

“Have you even adjusted to being a girl now?” mum asked accusatorily.

Claire blinked in surprise, her fake smile disappearing from her face. “Um, yeah. I love being a girl.”

Mum mulled it over for a brief period. Looking the girl up and down, staring at her intently. “Well, I don’t see the harm in at least trying,” mum finally said, sounding wistful almost. Wait, it actually worked? “I’ll be back later to pick you two up. Have fun.”

I held my sigh of relief until after she’d gotten back into her car and started driving home. I’d somehow bought James a few hours away from mum; a few hours for him to be himself. Better than nothing, I supposed. But it was really just delaying the inevitable. Mum would eventually pick us back up, and not only would she expect James to act as a girl, she would expect him to be more girly than before. There was no way James would act as her precious little daughter, and I feared that mum might react especially poorly upon realising everything was all a ruse.

I suddenly regretted this whole plan. I sighed. We would have to cross that bridge once we came to it.

“So, care to explain what this is all about?” Claire asked as she shut the door behind us.

“James didn’t want to go to mum’s place this weekend,” I explained, “so I convinced her to let us come here. I umm, lied, and said you could help ‘Chloe’ ‘embrace her femininity’.” I made air quotes with my fingers.

Claire scrunched her face. “But James is a boy.”

“That’s what I keep telling her!” James exclaimed. He suddenly frowned, and his voice softened. “You’re not going to make me act like a girl, are you?” He sounded sad, but hopeful.

“Hey, of course not!” Claire reassured him, patting him on the head and ruffling his hair. She knelt down so that she was at the same level as him. “I’m sorry your mum expects you to be something that you’re not. I wish I could help you with that. But if a few hours where you can be yourself will help, then I won’t take that away from you.”

“Thanks,” James smiled.

“So tell me, James, what do you want to do that will help you feel like yourself?”

“Hmm,” my little brother said, rubbing his chin. “Well, I like playing video games.”

“Video games it is!” Claire exclaimed, standing up and pointing in the direction of her living room.

We picked out a game that all three of us could play together. James made sure to pick out a male character, while Claire and I each picked female characters.

Claire did not go easy on us, not seeming to care that James was only a little kid. Not that that really made much of a difference. She absolutely blitzed the both of us. She was in a different league.

Despite this though, James enjoyed himself. Sure, spending the day at Claire’s wasn’t much, but even these few hours away from mum, where he could be James instead of ‘Chloe’, had improved his dull mood. No doubt he’d be all depressed again when mum inevitably came by to take us back to hers, but seeing the small smile on my brother’s face for this brief period was worth it.

Claire’s sister, Emily, interrupted our play session at one point, curious as to what was going on, particularly who ‘the little kid’ was (her words). Claire, as usual, answered in my stead, explaining that he was my little brother. That only confused her, and she wondered why James was wearing girly clothes if he was my brother.

This time, I made sure to answer the question instead of Claire. I told her simply that our mother believed James to be a girl and expected him to behave as such. Emily took some time processing that information, but eventually answered with a simple “oh”. Suddenly, she was no longer curious and took her leave.

We had just finished another game when James softly spoke up, “Um Claire. You said you like being a girl, right?”

Claire looked down at him and nodded with a smile. “Mhmm.”

“How?”

“Dunno,” Claire shrugged, “It just feels right, you know?”

“You don’t hate it?”

“Not at all.”

James scrunched his face in thought. He went through a wide array of emotions before continuing. “Do you think I could like being a girl, like mum wants me to?”

“That’s not a question I can answer,” Claire replied. “A better question would be: do you want to be a girl?”

“No. But mum keeps wanting me to be a girl, but I don’t, and I hate it, but she doesn’t stop and if I can’t stop her wanting me to be a girl then maybe it’d be easier if I liked it.”

She shook her head. “That’s not how it works,” she said softly. “If you try to force it, you’ll just end up hating it more.”

“How come you can like being a girl then?”

“Because being a boy didn’t fit me. I tried for years to make it work. I thought I had to. And I didn’t understand why it wasn’t working until I realised I’m actually a girl.”

James rested his chin on his fist and looked off to the side, sighing wistfully. I felt bad for not having any reassuring words for James right now, but Claire was already trying her best to help. I felt sorry for him, once again. He just wanted to stop feeling miserable, and it seemed there was nothing he could really do to alleviate his pain. All because mum was so stubborn in her beliefs.

“What can I do then?” James asked.

“I don’t know.”

The conversation died down after that. But the silence didn’t last long, as shortly afterward, the doorbell rang. Strongly suspecting that it was my mother, I began towards the front door. I told James to at least try to pretend like Claire had spent the whole day helping him accept being a girl. He whined, but I explained that mum might get angry if she found out that I had lied to her. At that he begrudgingly agreed.

As expected, mum awaited us on the other side of the door. We gave our farewells to Claire and hopped into mum’s car. She asked us how our day was, but James was back in his sullen mood now that we were with mum again, so he only grumbled in response. So much for acting, though I supposed I couldn’t complain given my equally horrible acting skills. It did mean that the mood of the entire car was sour. I knew I was going to get a lecture once we got back to mum’s place.