Chapter 17

AGE 13, JUNE

Mom sits me down,telling me we have to talk.

"Where's Squirt?" I rush out, my voice cracking. It's been doing that a lot lately.

My chest tightens, pulse racing as I look around the kitchen, straining my ears for a familiar giggle, the chatter of television, something, anything…

But it's quiet.

He's not here.

And with that realization, comes the fear.

Dad came back. He took him.

Mom gives me a gentle smile and reaches over, clasping my hands. "It's okay. Squirt's fine. H—" Her mouth opens, but the sound gets lost as she seems to fumble for words. "Squirt's upstairs. I wanted to talk to you alone."

I frown. "What is it?"

Wetting her lips, she gives my hands a squeeze, and says, "Do you know what transgender means?"

Brows bunching, I start to shake my head, when I remember something I saw on TV once. "Wait, like someone who gets a sex change?"

Mom tips her head to the side. "Sort of."

I blink.

"It's a little more complicated than that." Sighing, she nods as if psyching herself up for something. "Your…brother…is transgender."

"Squirt?"

She nods, watching me carefully.

I search her face, and wrinkle my nose. "Squirt wants a sex change? He's six."

Mom coughs, quickly covering a laugh. She shakes her head. "No, no, it's, um…like I said, it's a little more complicated than that." She looks down and mutters. "More like a lot."

"I don't get it."

Swallowing with an audible click, Mom pulls back, sitting up straight. "When Squirt was born, the doctors determined, because of, well….anatomy" —she waves a hand—"that Squirt must be a boy." She pauses pointedly, eyes darting between mine. "But sometimes…the bodies we're born into, don't align with how we feel about ourselves."

Looking down at my lap, I try to process what she's trying to tell me.

"Squirt's one of those people. H–She was born in the body of what most people would assume was a boy. But inside—in here"—she points to my chest, over my heart, then taps my temple—"she's a girl. And she wants to live as a girl, not as a boy. She wants people to see her as the girl she really is."

"Is that why Squirt flipped out last summer? When we got haircuts…"

My mind flashes back to that day, just before the start of the new school year. Mom had taken us to the barber for a trim for me, and a big chop for my brother, since it looked like he'd never even had a trim. When brushed, it was just past his shoulders.

I thought he rocked it. Especially when he'd wear his favorite beanie—a black one with pink skulls on it that he found at the flea market not long after he came to live with us.

Now that I think about it, I remember telling him that's a girl's hat, just in case he didn't know, and he'd looked up at me with a funny expression on his face. I didn't think too much about it at the time. I just shrugged, and shoved it on his head, and paid the vendor.

As for his hair…

Well, it had a lot of dead ends. That's what Mom said. She also just assumed he'd want a cut like mine. We all did, the barber included. Because…

Because he's a boy.

Because we thought he was a boy.

Up until that moment, I'd never seen Squirt cry. But when they turned him around to see himself in the mirror, his hair cut all the way to his scalp on the sides, and left floppy on top…

I shake my head, a pang blooming in my chest. I rub the spot with my fingers.

I was scared. The way he screamed…

I thought the barber hurt him somehow.

Squirt wore his hat for months….

Until it was long enough for Mom to…to pin it back.

With barrettes.

Pink ones…

Mom blows out a breath. "Yeah."

"The clips." I nod, as all the pieces fall into place. At the time, I didn't think anything of it. So what if he liked to wear pink clips in his hair? It made him happy.

Mom goes on to explain how later that day, once Squirt had calmed down, she asked him to talk about it. Explain why he was so upset. She tells me how he told her that he looked like a boy…

"And I asked him, are you not a boy?" Mom smiles sadly.

I swallow thickly. "That was a while ago."

"Well, we wanted to talk to someone first. Get all the information we could. Play it day by day. And Squirt was okay with keeping it a secret. Pretending she was undercover still." Mom's eyes twinkle at that, and I find myself smiling.

"But now that kindergarten's out of the way, and she's getting older…"

She.

That's gonna take some getting used to.

Mom explains to me the plan, what's next, and how we go about it.

"Is she going to change her name?" I ask.

Mom smiles proudly, and I realized I just called Squirt a she for the first time. Just like that. I didn't even think about it.

Maybe…maybe it won't be so hard after all.

"Yes."

"Good," I say, nodding. "But I'm still calling hi–her Squirt."

Scratch that.

Wincing, I shake my head, angry with myself for already messing this up.

Mom grabs my hands again, and leans forward, arms resting on her thighs. "It's okay. She only decided last week she's done pretending to be a boy. It's going to take us all some time to adjust, but we'll get there."

I grit my teeth and nod.

"So you're okay with this?" Mom says, her forehead scrunching.

I make a face. "Why wouldn't I be? It's not h-her fault that the doctors or God or whoever screwed up."

She snorts at that.

I shrug. "I just want Squirt happy."

Mom reaches for me, pulling me into a tight hug. "You're a good kid, Mase. Smart too."

"Mom," I whine, laughing and squirming in her hold.

Easing back, she levels me with a serious look. "Not everyone will be okay with this."

I scowl. "Why not? It's none of their business."

"Yeah, well, some people just can't seem to mind it, can they?" Her gaze drifts past me as she says this, growing distant.

"You…you think Dad would not be okay with this?"

Her eyes refocus on mine, and I don't miss the worry tightening them at the corner. Her mouth thins and she shakes her head. "I doubt it."

"What if…what if he comes back?"

Mom flashes a smile that doesn't meet her eyes. "I'll handle it."

Jaw tight, I nod.

She arches a knowing brow. "I will handle it, Mason."

I roll my eyes, and tell her, "Fine. Whatever."

She ruffles my hair, and pushes up from her chair. "Now go check on your sister. I'm gonna start dinner."

Mom moves toward the fridge, and I sit here, frozen, struck silent by her words.

Sister,I mouth slowly.

My gaze snaps up, and I find Mom looking over her shoulder. She winks, and I find myself grinning.

Upstairs, Squirt's exactly where Mom said she'd be—in her room, an old storage room we cleaned out and made all hers. Looking around, I find myself smiling at not only the mess, but at the randomness of it all.

Where my room at her age was all superhero stuff—Avengers in particular—Squirt's got a little bit of everything: a Finding Nemo comforter set, space-themed curtains we found at the dollar store. Stuffies, some of my old action figures, Hot Wheels, and green army men. There are Barbies too…

And dolls.

I don't remember Squirt getting those, making me think Mom bought them in the last year or so.

Did she hide them from me like I hid my action figures from Dad?

I frown at the thought.

No more.

No more hiding.

There are other little things I didn't really notice or think too much on until now, like the clips. A pink blanket balled up in the corner. A baton with frilly, sparkly pink ribbon laying on the floor by her dresser.

Pink's always been Squirt's favorite color, and I just figured, Why the heck not? It's just a color.

"Crush!"

A tornado of limbs and wild blond hair launch themselves at me.

"Did she tell you, did she tell you?" h–she rushes out in a single breath, gray-blue eyes wider than I think I've ever seen them.

She. She. Of course she's a she.

Staring into Squirt's eyes, I don't know how I didn't see it sooner. This is my little sister.

I nod, smiling. "She did."

Squirt bites her lip, and I lift her up, swing her around in a hug. "You're still my Squirt."

Tiny arms strangle my neck. "And you're my Crush."

"Always."

Later that night,I sneak down to the living room and power on the computer to bring up AIM.

It takes forever. Our internet is so slow out here in the boonies. But at least we finally got rid of the dial-up.

Once on, I sign in and find the person I'm looking for. Grinning as I always do when I see his username. I helped him come up with it. It's so much cooler than mine. I made it years ago, and just never felt like changing it.

He's away right now, but I message him anyway.

Why I don't tell Izzy first, I don't know. And I don't really question it. Jeremy's the only one I've been dying to tell all night, ever since we all talked at dinner about who's allowed to know, before we basically have to trick the entire town.

CaptMase92:

Hey guess wut

His away messagepops up immediately—song lyrics to a Hawthorne Heights song.

With a sigh, I pull up MySpace and mess around with my profile a bit as I wait.

It's a while before he answers, but I'm not surprised. It's a Sunday night. It's late. But usually his parents aren't too strict about it, especially now that it's summer break. Even for him.

When I hear the beeps indicating I got a message, I bring up our conversation.

xXjerthewickedXx:

What?

I grin,and carefully type out my response.

CaptMase92:

We both have little sisters now