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“What the fuck am I supposed to say? ‘By the way, I’m a girl and if you don’t like that, too bad?’”
“That would certainly clue her in fast.”
Chloe groaned as she laid herself back on her pillow. “You,” she said with an accusatory point of her finger, “are not helpful.”
Rachel shrugged, staying too composed for Chloe’s liking. “I can’t tell you what to say. I’m just a stand-in to help you practice.”
“Okay, Miss Stand-In,” Chloe began with a roll of her eyes. “How about this one: Hey mom, sorry to be the one to tell you this, but somewhere in the womb you scrambled me.”
“That’s not how that works.” Rachel giggled despite being faced with blatant scientific inaccuracy.
“Hello mother dearest, you might’ve noticed that recently I’ve been dressing more like a lesbian- there’s a reason for that!”
Rachel laughed again and leaned down to press a kiss to Chloe’s forehead. “If nothing else, you’ll charm her with your wit.”
“So, birthgiver, what if I told you…” Chloe trailed off as a sudden wave of unease rolled over her, stopping to tie knots in her stomach.
“Out of quips already?” Rachel asked in an amused tone. “I thought you’d at least have a few more.”
“Listen, even the best comedians have duds sometimes.” Chloe swallowed the thick feeling in her throat and hoped her nerves wouldn’t betray her now.
No such luck. “You don’t have to do this yet,” Rachel reminded her. “You waited long enough already, right? What’s a few more days?”
“I’m not waiting,” Chloe insisted. She pressed her palms into her eyes, trying to preemptively wipe any tears away before they could fall. “That’s my mom, Rach. I need to know how she feels about this.”
She’d already explained her sudden impatience earlier, through the panicked texts that brought Rachel to her house. Now she couldn’t recall exactly what she’d typed, but knew it was a paragraph that boiled down to, “if I don’t do this today, it might kill me.”
“I know.” Rachel didn’t push further. She simply nodded and assured, “I’ll be right upstairs. And if things go south or she tells David, we’ll just get in your truck and leave.”
“Is that how we get to LA, oh wise one?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Just someplace where no one will ever know you as anyone but Chloe.”
“Sounds like a dream.”
* * *
“Mom?”
Joyce looked up from her paper, a surprise smile crossing her face as she said, “Oh, I didn’t hear you come downstairs! What’re you and Rachel up to today?”
“Not much.” Chloe stared out the window behind her mother, at the dreary Oregon sky. She wished she could look back and see Rachel waiting at the top of the stairs, but whoever had built this house clearly had it out for her with this wall placement.
Joyce didn’t seem to notice the lack of eye contact. “Lasagna’s in the oven. I assume Rachel will be staying to eat with us?”
“Probably.”
Joyce began to look confused. “Is everything alright?” she asked as she scanned Chloe’s face.
“Uh, yeah. I’m fine.”
If Chloe didn’t start now, she’d clam up and they’d end up going back and forth about this for the rest of the day. She couldn’t stand here and keep saying she was fine when she was sweating bullets and her stomach was turning like it was on a rinse cycle. Certainly not when her mother was staring at her as if she might explode. She took one quick breath in and blurted, “Actually, I need to talk to you. About something important.”
Joyce’s shoulders stiffened. “That’s a bit unusual.” Her brow suddenly furrowed with concern. “Is this about you and Rachel?”
“Nope.” Chloe held back a groan. She should’ve seen that assumption coming. Joyce had probably been waiting for the day she’d have to pull out the handbook of relationship advice all parents seemed to own a copy of.
“Really?”
“We didn't break up, we didn’t do anything illegal, and she’s not pregnant. Did I cover everything you’re paranoid about?”
Joyce let out a deep breath. “Yes, and thank the lord for that. You kids are going to be the death of me, you know?” She pushed her newspaper to the side and gestured towards the chairs across from herself. “Come sit down then.”
Chloe sat down directly across from Joyce and stared down at her hands resting on the table, specifically the chipped black polish on her nails. The first time she’d painted them, she’d come home with blue nails, courtesy of a bottle from Rachel’s collection. Joyce had noticed right away, but backed off when Chloe mumbled something about how having colors on her nails wasn’t a crime. She was a lot easier to ward off than David, who could never let any change go without a thousand questions and a lecture.
Chloe wondered now if Joyce would look back on that day and think it was a sign.
“First, can you promise me one thing?” she asked, keeping her eyes fixed on her hands.
“I don’t see why not,” Joyce replied cautiously. “Sweetheart, you’re scaring me a little.”
“Sorry,” Chloe mumbled, unsure of how else to respond. She took another breath and stated her request. “Don’t tell David. He doesn’t need to know this right now.”
The air in the room seemed to grow thicker. Or the silence Chloe received in return just made it harder to inhale. Maybe she should’ve suggested they go outside, gray skies be damned.
“You’re gay, aren’t you?”
Now Chloe was considering climbing out the window and walking in a random direction until she reached any body of water.
“That’s it, isn’t it.” Joyce reached for Chloe’s hand, which instinctively flinched away.
Chloe watched with a twinge of regret as her mother pulled her hand back. “That’s not- I mean, I’m not into guys,” she stammered.
“It would explain some things if you were.”
“No!” Chloe snapped. “Fucking hell, can you let me speak?”
The previous feeling of guilt grew as Joyce’s expression changed to sternness. Every time they argued, Chloe could see the exact second when she had fucked up.
“Sorry.” Chloe didn’t know if having to apologize twice already meant her case was doomed, but it wasn’t looking bright. “Forget I did that.”
“It’s hard to forget when so many of our conversations go in this direction.” Joyce leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “They lied to me when they said ‘teenage boys bring less drama than girls.’”
“You used to want a daughter too,” Chloe reminded, deciding not to comment on the sexism of the previous statement. “I remember you saying that when I was little.”
“Oh, I did.” Joyce’s face softened a bit as she recalled, “I wanted at least one of each. It made sense to me.”
“And you got just me instead, huh?”
“Believe me, you and Max were so inseparable it almost made up for it.”
Chloe nodded, trying to ignore the pang that briefly stabbed through her chest at the mention of her former best friend.
“Anyway,” Joyce continued, “It doesn’t matter now. Life doesn’t always give you what you expect, and sometimes that’s better.”
“What if I was your daughter?”
The words left Chloe’s mouth so fast, it took a second for her to process that she’d said them. No going back now.
Joyce raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.” Chloe pulled at one of her bracelets so hard, she thought it would snap. “I’m transgender.”
Pushing out the last two words left her feeling exposed. It wasn’t just announcing a change in how she wanted to be addressed, it was also laying out an entire piece of her psyche.
Joyce raised her hand up to rub the bridge of her nose. “Oh my god.”
That reaction was pretty neutral in Chloe’s mind. She wasn’t being yelled at or told to leave. Besides, even most supportive parents would be surprised about their kid coming out to them.
“Are you cool with that?”
Joyce took her hand off her face, pausing for a few seconds before she carefully asked, “Are you sure?”
“Why wouldn’t I be sure?”
“I just mean…” Joyce trailed off, as if someone else was going to appear and answer for her.
“Why wouldn’t I be sure?” Chloe repeated.
“A lot of teenagers say things about who they are,” Joyce explained. “And then they realize later they were wrong.” With that tone, she might as well have been trying to convince Chloe not to smoke weed or get a tattoo.
“But you were fine when you thought I was just gay,” Chloe pointed out.
“This is different.”
“How? How is it different?” Chloe had entirely given up on keeping her voice low. “Will calling me a different name when David’s not home really kill you?”
“You’ll have a much harder life being… like this than being gay,” Joyce said, entirely ignoring the last question. “There’s a lot more people who would want to hurt you.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Chloe pushed her chair away from the table and stood up so fast, she almost hit her knees. “Trust me, people have BEEN looking at me like they want me gone! I’m surprised no one’s walked up to you at work and asked what the hell your kid’s issue is!”
“Then you can see why I’m not sure about all this.”
This just about pushed Chloe over the edge. The way Joyce could so calmly insinuate that she should go back into the box she’d worked hard to break open and crawl out of. Like it wasn’t the town’s fault for not understanding, it was Chloe’s fault for being something they didn’t understand.
Although the room around them grew silent, Chloe’s ears filled with the sound of her own blood rushing. She stared back at Joyce, waiting for her to say anything that would show some reconsideration. No such comment came.
Chloe turned and walked out of the room, ignoring her mother’s call for her to come back. She sped up when she reached the stairs, nearly stumbling back as she ran directly into Rachel at the top.
“Woah there.” Rachel stopped herself from falling due to the impact and managed to take Chloe’s hands in hers. “Come on, let’s go sit down.”
Chloe tried to shake her way out of Rachel’s grip, with no success. She resigned to letting herself be led into her room and towards the bed.
“I heard everything, by the way,” Rachel said after they’d both sat down. She put her arm around Chloe’s shoulders and started to pull her in closer.
Chloe pulled away and let Rachel’s arm fall from her back. “Great,” she grumbled. She didn’t intend to be snappy with Rachel too, but right now she didn’t want to be consoled. She wanted to break something, or run away, or dig a hole and lie down in it forever. She settled on pressing her nails into her palm, making sure not to actually draw blood.
“She’s worried about you.” Rachel was unfazed by her comfort being rejected. She even moved over a few inches to give Chloe some more space. “Which is good, she’s just going about it all wrong.”
“Whatever.” Chloe pushed her nails in harder. “This was a stupid idea.”
They sat in silence while Rachel studied Chloe’s face, as if she was trying to find the correct words for the situation. After a moment, she softly asked, “Will you be okay by yourself for a minute?”
“I’m not going to kill anybody, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Rachel stood up and strode towards the bedroom door. “I’ll be right back.” Before Chloe could question what the hell she was thinking, Rachel was already out the door and making her way downstairs.
Now that she was alone, Chloe couldn’t just sit and stare into space. She pushed herself to stand up and cross the room to her closet. She threw open the door and kneeled down in front of it, squinting until she could see her old backpack way back in the corner. She managed to pull it out without venturing further into the crevice, aggressively dusted it off, and tossed it onto her bed.
She pulled a few items of clothing off their hangers and stuffed them into the bag before turning her attention to her desk. Her laptop and its charger were the next items to be packed up, along with her journal that she hadn’t really been keeping up with.
As Chloe scanned her desk for anything else she might need, she heard the sound of Rachel’s voice floating up the stairs from the kitchen. She strained, trying to hear exactly what was being said, but she could only pick up who was speaking. Her mother’s voice came next, for only a second, as if giving a one word answer. It was hard to pick up on tone, but Chloe could imagine that she wasn’t happy.
The next sound she heard was Rachel’s footsteps, lightly running up the staircase. Chloe didn’t bother lifting her head as the sound approached her, then stopped as Rachel appeared beside her.
“I see you started packing,” Rachel observed. She once again wrapped her arm around Chloe, who didn’t resist this time and instead let her head lean on Rachel’s shoulder.
“What was that all about?” Chloe asked, a little afraid of the answer.
“Oh, I was feigning ignorance, mostly,” Rachel replied with a shrug. “I told her that you were mad about something but wouldn’t explain, and I wanted to hear her side.”
Chloe almost laughed. “She definitely didn’t believe you, she knows I tell you everything.”
“She asked if I’d heard about people who want to live as a different gender than how they were born.”
“Is she confirming that this is a real thing and not some shit I came up with while high?”
“I think she was trying to figure out what the kids think these days.” Rachel looked at Chloe’s face and brushed a stand of hair away from her eyes. “Anyway, I said it must take a lot for someone who feels that way to be open about it and it sucks that some don’t have a good support system.”
“Shut up, you didn’t say that,” Chloe scoffed. She turned and started walking back towards her bed, throwing her bag down as she did.
“I did!” Rachel retorted as she followed. “I wanted her to think about why you got so upset.”
When they were both sitting on the bed again, Chloe asked, “What else did you guys say behind my back?”
“Oh, she changed the subject after that,” Rachel said regretfully. “I totally should’ve said more but she started asking me about school, then I told her I had to check on you.”
“Riveting.”
Before Chloe could ask what else Rachel would’ve said if given the chance, another set of footsteps started ascending the stairs. A second later, Joyce appeared in the doorway and Chloe mentally cursed Rachel for not closing the door when she came back.
“Lasagna’s out,” Joyce announced. “David’s running late, but if you want to get the food while it’s hot, come get it now.”
Rachel thanked Joyce while Chloe tried to focus on anything else. Unfortunately, her eyes still flitted back to her mother, who was looking at her expectantly.
Chloe felt like she had to say something, but all she could manage was a mumbled, “Yeah, thanks.”
“Alright.” Joyce hovered in the doorway for a few more seconds before she closed the door and left.
“Most parents would scream at their kids for keeping the door closed all the time,” Rachel observed. She turned to Chloe and asked gently, “Do you want to go grab food now?”
“I don’t know.” Chloe ran her fingers over the marks in her palm from earlier. They hurt a surprising amount. She’d have to stop doing that.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Rachel assured as she started to pull her phone out of her pocket.
A realization hit Chloe. “Hey, you didn’t say any of the shit you normally do.”
Rachel paused mid-type. “Like what?”
“The stuff you say every time something like this happens,” Chloe clumsily explained. “You always rush to tell me that I’m valid and it doesn’t matter what anyone says because only I can determine who I am.” She forced out a short laugh, hoping it covered her embarrassment of letting this bubble up.
Rachel shrugged. “All of that is true, but I’m not the one you want to hear it from right now.”
Chloe considered this for a second, then laid back on the bed. “I guess you're right.”
“Always am.”
“Smartass.” Chloe looked at her bag sitting next to the bed, its contents spilling from the opening due to being thrown. “We’re not leaving today, are we?”
“I don’t think you really want to.”
“Okay seriously, how do you do that? Is it really psychology or straight up magic?”
Rachel smiled mischievously as she laid down next to Chloe. “It can be both if you want.”
Another silence settled between them, this one lasting for only a moment before Rachel asked, “When are you actually going to tell her your name?”
“Fuck,” Chloe groaned as she put a hand to her face. “I didn’t even realize I skipped that.”
“I think she’ll listen when you do.” Rachel reached over to take Chloe’s hand in hers. “But you don’t have to do it right now.”
“Someday I’ll wake up panicking again, then I’ll have to tell her.”
“Maybe it’ll be easier next time.”
Chloe stared up at the Christmas lights hanging around her room as she thought about Rachel’s words. It was true, people could learn to do better. And despite their arguments, her mom was already one of the kindest people she knew.
She made a mental note to catch Joyce before she left for work the next day, so she could reintroduce herself as Chloe.