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“It’s perfectly normal, bubbie. You’re just getting older. Your body is maturing into an adult.”
Kyle fidgeted with his hands, sinking lower into his bed in shame.
“But I’m not an adult! I’m only thirteen!” he exclaimed to his mother, still refusing to make eye contact. “Why is this happening?”
The red-haired woman raised an eyebrow. “They didn’t teach you in school?”
Kyle shook his head, confused as ever. The education system when it came to sex ed was never the best. He had recalled learning about periods, but it was never properly explained how it worked and his own biology. It was all about STDs and abstinence.
“Well,” started Sheila, “once a month, your body releases an egg to be fertilized by a man and make a baby. If it’s not fertilized, the blood build up for the baby is disposed of through the vagina.”
Kyle shuddered, recoiling. “Ugh! Don’t say that word!”
His mother rolled her eyes. “Be mature, Kyle. Anyways, it’s what’s called a menstrual cycle. Does that make sense?”
Kyle wrinkled his nose. Gross. What if he didn’t want to give birth to a kid? And for a week each month? What was the point? He shrugged.
Sheila sighed, rubbing the boy’s back in comfort. The scrawny boy still trembled a little, still taken aback by what was happening to him. “You see, Kyle,” Sheila began steadily, “it’s something every… every…” She trailed off, searching for better wording.
Kyle perked his head up, eyes widening with concern, “Every what?”
“— Every female born person experiences. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
There it was again. A reminder. Of the stupid body that was given to him by God. The curse of femininity that he couldn’t erase no matter how hard he tried. He could cut his hair, layer sports bras under his orange jacket, deepen his voice and yet, while it did help ease his dysphoria significantly, he’d still bleed. Both his uterus and heart. If anything, that was scarier than the first sight of blood in the school bathroom earlier that day.
Kyle groaned, burying his sunspot dappled face in his arms, another pang of nausea twisting in his abdomen.
Ugh, shit. How long is this gonna last?
“I think I’m just gonna… lay down for a bit,” the boy grumbled as he pulled the plush comforter over his head. Sheila nodded, ruffling Kyle’s red curls sympathetically.
“Sure,” she replied, “I’m going to go make you some hot tea. It’ll help soothe the cramps.”
Kyle smiled weakly, “thanks mom.”
When she shut the door behind her, the ginger boy’s grin fell, being replaced by a sour grimace as the twisting in his gut made him want to vomit, his head feeling lighter. He rolled onto his back, cringing as the small movement made more warm blood flow out of him.
Kyle clutched his stomach and squeezed his thighs together as tears pricked his eyes.
Holy fuck. This was the worst.
~~~
Stan pursed his lips as he rang the doorbell. Something must have been really wrong if Kyle left school early. Was he hurt? The question plagued his mind until suddenly, Sheila opened the door. She looked down and smiled, being met with the boy, who carried a large gift basket filled to brim with boxes of sanitary products, among other things.
“Can I help you?”
”Um, hi, Ms. Broflovski. Is Kyle home?”
Sheila glanced back for a moment, before returning her gaze to Stan. “Yes,” she replied, “he’s upstairs resting right now, though.”
Stan’s eyes brightened. Good, so he was okay. “Can I see him?”
Sheila bit her bottom lip. “I wouldn’t right now if I were you.”
”Please?” Stan pleaded, “can you at least just give this to him and say it’s from me?” He held up the basket.
Sheila exhaled. “Okay, fine. But I’m not sure if he’s in the mood for visitors.”
She stepped aside, letting the boy in. Stan made his way up the stairs, being cautious with his footing due to the heavy basket, Sheila following. Once they made it to Kyle’s door, Sheila knocked.
“Kyle,” she called gently, “your little friend is here to see you.”
Kyle weakly lifted his head from his pillow. “Who?” he muttered groggily.
“It’s your friend, Stan.”
“Tell him to go away.”
Sheila frowned, crossing her arms. “That’s not very nice,” she scolded, “he even brought something for you.” Turning her head to Stan, she nodded, signaling for him to go in anyway. Stan have a half smile in return, pushing open the door quietly.
Kyle laid on his side, fatigue making his body grow heavy. Stan gently shut the door behind him, stepping near Kyle's bedside, to which he responded by pulling his blanket over his head.
"Kyle?" Stan said, "I... uh, just wanted to check on you. I got worried when you left class early."
Kyle groaned, irritation lacing his tone. "Great! Thanks! Bye!"
"I started to freak out when Cartman told me that he saw blood on your pants at recess. He laughed and said that you had gotten your per--"
Kyle's stomach flipped with horror. "Oh, God! He saw?" he cried, eyes wide with terror, "and he laughed?!"
Stan shrugged, glancing down at the floor, uncomfortable. "I mean, Cartman's a dick. But, like, I wouldn't be too upset, dude." He smirked, "You gotta admit, it's a little funny--"
On his last nerve, Kyle shot up, wincing as the sudden movement make his abdomen contract once more. He glared at his best friend with a rage as Stan stared doe-eyed and dumb. "IT'S NOT FUCKING FUNNY, JACKASS!" he snapped, trying to restrain the tears pooling in his eyes, making his voice crack. Kyle couldn't tell if it was the serge of hormones or genuine frustration that made him want to cry, but either way, he didn't want to. Kyle had never been one to cry in front of people. He had always kept it to himself. Part of it was how he was raised. Another reason why nobody had known that he was transgender, not even his own friends. But he had never felt so vulnerable.
Stan put his hands up, taking a small step back. "Woah, calm down. I didn't mean it like that. Look, I get that it's embarrassing, but it's not the end of the world! Remember when Kenny laughed so hard he pissed himself in second grade? Or the amount of times I've puked on Wendy? I'm just saying--"
"You couldn't POSSIBLY understand, Stan!" Kyle snarled, hugging his knees that he brought to his chest, "you don't know what my life is like! What this means for me!"
"But I do know you!" Stan argued, "I have since diapers!"
Pain bubbled to the surface, and with a hot face and venom in his voice, Kyle hissed, "you didn't know I was a TRANNY, though, didn't you?!" His lip quivered, and he finally let a quiet sob escape him. His whole body trembled with shame. He hadn't meant to say that. Stan titled his head like an innocent puppy, his gaze softening. It still didn't register, but he knew something was wrong beyond the bleeding.
"You're a... what?" he asked.
"I'm a girl, Stan! I-I'm... I'm transgender."
Stan's eyebrows raised, not expecting the information just given.
"Oh!"
That was all he could respond.
He blinked, then shook his head, struggling to process what Kyle had meant. "Wait, so are you a girl or a boy?"
It was a hard question to answer. Kyle wasn't entirely sure. He was a boy. He knew that for sure. But his body presented different answers, to his dismay. "I was born female, but I feel like a boy. You've just always known me that way."
Stan looked Kyle in his bloodshot, glassy green eyes. "Jeez, I had no idea!" he began, placing a hand on the boy's arm. Kyle was warm. Or his hands were cold. He couldn't tell.
Kyle hung his head in between his knees, his thick locks of curly, red hair bobbing. "That was kinda the point." he mumbled, "and nobody was supposed to know. Not even you. But now everybody knows and Cartman fucking knows and now everybody is going to make fun of me!"
"Well, I've always seen you as a guy," said Stan, "so you're still a boy to me. And if that fatass says anything, we can kick his ass."
Kyle wiped away some of the wetness staining his freckled cheeks and fogging up his glasses. "So... you're cool with it?"
"Why wouldn't I be? You're my best friend. I wouldn't care if you're a boy or a girl. You're you. And I..." A small dusting of pink warmed Stan's cheeks, "I like you."
Kyle smiled, and for a brief moment, he cramping in his stomach was replaced by butterflies as his heart swelled. "Thanks..." he stammered, "I'm sorry I got so angry. Hormones, y'know?" He gave a pathetic chuckle. Stan leaned in, embracing his friend. He could feel Kyle's heartbeat grow faster in sync with his own.
When Stan pulled away, he raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Wait, what does you being born a girl have to do with you getting your period?"
Kyle sighed. "Only females get periods, dumbass."
"OHHH!" Stan exclaimed, "that's why you... oh, shit." He facepalmed. "I feel so stupid. No wonder I hadn't gotten mine yet!"
Kyle snickered, rolling his eyes. "Surprised you even knew what it was."
"I have a sister, you know. I'm not an idiot. Which reminds me..."
Stan bent down and lifted the huge basket onto Kyle's bed, pulling out boxes of pads, tampons, and packets of Midol one by one. "I wasn't sure which ones you used, so I brought everything I could find. I stole them from Shelley."
He pulled a tampon out from one of the boxes, unwrapping it then examining it, staring at the blue applicator with bewilderment. He held it up and gave it a puzzled glance.
"Not even sure what you do with this, but thought you might want it."
Kyle gave a nervous grin. He didn't want to tell Stan that he was afraid of tampons. At least he meant well. That was the most important thing. It was kinda cute, actually.
"You know Shelley's gonna kill you, right?"
Stan shrugged. "Whatever. That's not important right now." Suddenly, he perked up.
"Oh, and one more thing!"
Stan reached into the basket and pulled out a heart-shaped box of chocolates. He rubbed the back of his neck as the red-headed boy took the box. Kyle's freckled face heated.
"Wendy had told me once that when she's on her period, she likes chocolate. I found this in my closet from valentines day that I never ate, so I guess you can have it. Sorry if it's a little stale."
Kyle opened the box and bit into a square, caramel chocolate. Definitely stale. But he didn't care. Instead, he smiled warmly in appreciation. "Thanks, Stan," he giggled, "I feel better already." Stan beamed, eyes sparkling. "Really?" he asked. Kyle nodded. Silence passed for a few moments. Then, Stan suddenly spoke.
"I have so many questions," he said.
Kyle glanced over, not meeting Stan's, which was aimed at his feet. "What do you mean?"
"Like, what's it like? With... er, you know?" he muttered shyly.
"Oh," Kyle responded, understanding what his friend had meant. He didn't know whether to feel disappointed or flattered for him wanting to learn more about his biology.
Taking note of Kyle's tone, Stan frantically waved his hands. "Of course, you don't have to tell me! I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything!"
"No, no. It's okay. I mean," Kyle started, "it's not really fun. Period wise, it hurts."
"Then what does it feel like? Does the bleeding hurt like a cut?"
"No, the bleeding itself doesn't hurt, but the cramps do." Kyle made a twisting motion with his hands. "Imagine your insides being wrung out like a wet towel."
"Oh. That, uh, sounds bad."
"Yeah."
The room fell quiet once more, only to be interrupted by Stan again.
"I still can't believe I didn't know. Like, you look so much like a boy."
Kyle shifted, apprehensive at how to respond. "Um, thanks?'
"How do you do it?"
"Well, I've dressed masculine for most of my life. I knew at around three years old. I only started to express it to my parents when I was about five. They weren't sure at first, but they took me to see a psychologist. I layer sports bras to flatten my chest. It's not really comfortable, but it works well enough. My mom said she ordered a binder for me and I'm going to go on hormone blockers soon." Kyle paused. "It doesn't make it any less hard, though. I don't hate myself. But no matter how hard I try, no matter how well I pass, I still see myself as someone I don't want to be. Someone I'm not. I hate my body, Stan. I have to shower with the lights off. I have to cover the bathroom mirror with a towel. It's hard to explain to someone else. It's just always been 'you're blossoming into a woman!' and all that shit and I can't help but feel like... what if I'm wrong? God made me female for a purpose, right? Aren't I 'destined' to be a woman? To carry children? To be a mother? It's just all so confusing!"
Stan inched closer, stroking Kyle's back sympathetically. "That... actually makes a lot of sense." He thought for a moment, then turned to Kyle. His eyes were wide and clear, a sense of realization crashing into him like a great wave. He felt a sense of deja vu. While not exact, he understood a lot of what Kyle had felt. It gave Stan comfort in knowing he wasn't completely alone in this.
"I... get it."