AN: Beta-read by
Carbohydratos,
Did I?,
Gaia,
Linedoffice,
Zephyrosis, and
Mizu.
Chapter 111: The Times They Are A-Changin'
We never did get around to unlocking my Aura. But speaking 'different types of magic'…
Only a few days after Christmas, I'd just returned from one of Rita's lessons via the front door, and had been making my way towards the kitchen for a snack before snatching a few hours of sleep when Homura called out to me as I walked by her office. "Heads up, Cass: magic changed."
"What?" I doubled back to stick my head through the doorway in alarm. "When? How?"
She didn't look up from her laptop. "A few hours ago, and not much. It's nearly the same as what would have happened without us, just a few years later than it would've in the normal course of things."
"Oh. That's… good?"
"It's progress."
"Towards… magic becoming public?"
"Yes."
"Not a disaster, then."
Homura cleared her throat, possibly to hide a laugh. "No, not a disaster."
"Okay. Good." I took a deep breath, then pushed the door open and walked all the way into the office like someone with dignity. "Do you know why?"
"I do not, but if I had to guess, the magical research going on at Moperville University went too well. There haven't been any 'incidents' to my knowledge."
"Ah. How much longer before the secret is out, do you think? If you had to guess."
"A year or two, though that
is a guess."
"Hmm." There were no other chairs in here, so I leaned against the wall by the door. "So, just to make sure I understand, magic has now more or less given up on being secret?"
"In the long term, yes."
"And the major obstacle to going public now is the danger posed by a sudden, uncontrolled proliferation of magical abilities?"
"Yes."
"So the 'year or two' time-frame is how long you expect it to take for whoever they have working at MVU to find a solution to the problem?"
"Or for the secret to get out regardless. Are you going somewhere with these questions?"
I shook my head. "No, just making sure I have it right. 'Night, Homura."
"Goodnight, Cass."
———X==X==X———
Homura had…
slightly understated the degree of change. It was, indeed, 'more or less what happened in canon', but I—in full 'this is gonna be a vacation' mindset—hadn't gone back and done the research on what that
meant. As a result, I wasn't exactly sure how much 'what happened here' differed.
It 'meant' a couple things. First, the training wheels were off: Magic, it turned out, had been offloading a lot of the work of spellcraft. This didn't mean people suddenly needed complex mathematics-adjacent ritual casting like I'd learned in
Breath of Fire, but it did mean, among other things, that spells that previously did exactly one thing were now a bit more flexible. Even one-note spells like my illusions had gained a few 'metamagic'-esque options, and more complicated spells had correspondingly more complicated possibilities.
On the other hand, many people couldn't do quite as much with their spells without Magic holding their hand, so their spells' 'options' could mean choosing a limited subset of effects where they'd previously get all of them. In my case, however, the changes were strict upgrades—possibly because I still had the magical prodigy perk active. Useful, that.
Second, Magic that had previously been nixed by past Magic Resets was now valid again. This didn't affect me or Homura, but I'm sure it caused a massive headache for the FBI's Paranormal Division. Yay for another thing not being my problem.
Third, and possibly building on that point, Magic was now 'unified'. My shape-shifting abilities were now grouped in with the spells I'd gotten from Awakening and used the same pool of magic. Homura had already called Max, so she could answer the obvious question: no, Magical beings could not all suddenly use spells. It might be slightly easier for seyunolu to Awaken than it used to be, but they still had to do so. As best we could explain it, spell-casting and 'natural Magics' like shape-shifting were still separate talents, they just now used the same resource.
Probably. It had been less than a week and everyone was still scrambling to get a grasp on what was different—or perhaps I should just say 'how things work now', because I was pretty sure they hadn't finished understanding the old system, either.
———X==X==X———
The buzzing of my phone interrupted the evening news only a couple days later, and I muted the TV with one hand while I fished the phone out of my purse with the other.
Why was Megan calling me in the middle of the night?
"Hello?"
"Cassandra?" She was panicked.
"What? What's wrong?"
Homura shot me a questioning glance when she heard the question, but I didn't know what was going on yet.
"It's Becky!" Megan yelled. "She's missing!"
Her sister was
missing? "What? Since when?"
"This afternoon!"
I checked my watch; it was a quarter to midnight.
Megan was still talking. "Apparently she ran away? Or got kicked out? Dad wasn't clear. I'm calling everyone I know, but no one's seen her since this afternoon… listen, Cassandra, even if I drop everything and race back down to Strawfield, I don't know how I'd find her. I know she doesn't have her phone because Dad answered it when I called, which is the only reason I even know she's gone at all! Can you find him? It's thirty degrees outside and I'm worried she's gonna get sick."
"Absolutely." I was already on my way to the door, Homura at my heels. "I'll find her, I promise."
"Thank you. Call me as soon as you find her, okay? I don't want to send her home if she's just going to run away again. June's out at the moment but I will drive down there myself if I need to."
"Sure thing. Don't worry, I'll find her."
Megan hung up, probably to call someone else. Homura and I reached the door, and I summarized what Megan had told me as we pulled on our boots and coats.
"Is the other bedroom still a guest bedroom?" I asked. "Megan was panicking about how to get down here tonight, since she doesn't want to send Becky home if she's gonna run away again."
"It is. I don't have a use for it, so there's no problem letting her stay a night—or longer, if necessary."
"We need to find her first."
Go time. Homura tossed me her car keys and took to the skies; I dialed Jenn's number with one hand while I vaulted the railing rather than take the stairs down, slowing my fall with telekinetic flight and switching my eyes to something better adapted to darkness. My first objective was to figure out which spell(s) would work best for an impromptu game of Hot and Cold—no, wait, what was I thinking? Triangulation would be much—
I was still mid-thought when I almost landed on Becky, who was sitting on the curb beneath the landing. Embarrassingly, I was the one who yelped even though I'd dropped out of nowhere at
her. (In my defense, it was dark and her oversized hoodie made her look larger than she was.)
"Gyah! Who—Becky?"
"Uh… yeah. Hi?"
I gaped at her for a few seconds as the adrenaline in my bloodstream tried to figure out what the hell it was supposed to do now. Becky was sitting on the curb in front of the handicapped parking space, hood over head with her knees pulled towards her chest. A lumpy bundle of some sort sat trapped between her legs and stomach, and her hands moved of their own volition where they met across her shins, fingers pulling on each other in turn to relieve her tension.
Soon enough, the gaping crossed the threshold into staring, sending the girl shrinking further into her hoodie even as she mustered the courage to break the silence. "Is that you, Miss Cassandra?"
"Wha—yes, it's me." I must have been barely a silhouette in the dark alley, low-hanging clouds lit from the streetlights below the best source of illumination we had besides the faintly glowing screen of my phone. My night vision was well into superhuman at the moment and I still couldn't make out much more than the outlines of her face beneath her hood. "What are you doing here?"
"What are
you doing here?" she shot back.
"I live here?"
"In the parking lot?"
I rolled my eyes, though she probably couldn't see it. "I was looking for you, actually."
"Really? Why?"
"Megan was worried."
"Oh." Becky shifted again, hands pulling her legs in tight as they gripped their opposite elbows. "Didn't know where else to go. Sorry."
"You don't have to apologize. It's cold out here; want to come inside?"
She rocked back and forth for a moment, then shrugged and got to her feet like she didn't care one way or the other. The lump I'd noticed earlier resolved itself into a backpack as she slung it across one shoulder.
"Do you often jump off your balcony?" Becky asked as I directed her towards the base of the stairs a few parking spaces away.
I left the semantic distinction between landings and balconies for another time. "I don't make a habit of it, no. I was kind of in a rush."
"Was Megan that upset?"
"Well…"
Becky huffed. "I would'a called her if I had my phone."
Speaking of phones, I still had mine in the hand that wasn't holding the now-unnecessary car keys, so I called Homura as I led Becky to the stairs.
"Found her…. Yeah. Right on our doorstep…. Of course you were…. 'Kay. See you soon."
"Megan?" Becky asked.
"Akemi."
"Ah." The subject of my summary breathed a sigh of relief. "Uh, who?"
"My sister, the baker." I dialed Megan to tell her I'd found her sister and got her voicemail.
Probably in the middle of another call. "You've seen her once or twice."
"If she's who I'm thinking of, she does
not look like your sister."
"Well, she is." The keys went into my coat pocket so I could use both hands to text Megan that I was prepared to board Becky for a night. "Why did you sound relieved I wasn't talking to Megan?"
"I was worried she was driving all the way down here."
"She was considering it, but she didn't have any idea where to look for you. Ah, hold on—" I was getting a call from Jenn? Oh, right, I'd dialed her and then completely forgotten I was even holding my phone. "Heeey-llo."
"Cass? Did you mean to call me?"
"Yeah, I did. Where are you right now?"
"Playing
Duel Monsters with Annie in the games room," she answered. "Why?"
"Just wondering. Something came up."
"With Megan?"
"Yeah. It's resolved now, don't worry."
"That's… good? Why call me?"
"Because I thought it was going to be harder to—nevermind, problem's solved, have a good evening."
"You too? Bye."
"Was
that Megan?" Becky asked.
"No," I replied, resuming my text conversation as we climbed the stairs. Homura had magicked herself back into the apartment rather than landing somewhere and sneaking back in and was thus able to open the door for us while I finished fat-fingering the message.
The apartment lights gave me my first good look at Becky in more than a year. She looked miserable—moodwise, that is, with bags under her eyes and a blank, empty expression that said nothing good about her state of mind. At least she wasn't
terribly underdressed for the weather, though one of her preferred large, fluffy hoodies and a knit cap were nowhere near enough to stave off the nighttime chill in late December.
Becky dropped the backpack by the umbrella stand and lowered her hood, but hesitated when she reached for her hat.
"You can leave it on if you're cold," I told her.
"It's not that." She dithered a moment longer, then reached up and pulled the hat off with an air of resignation, which revealed why she'd hesitated: someone had hacked away at her hair with a pair of scissors, resulting in one of the worst haircuts I'd ever seen.
"My work," Becky said when I didn't comment.
"You okay?"
"No."
At least she was being honest.
"Can I get you some hot chocolate?" Homura asked as we guided her back towards the kitchen.
"I'm fine."
"Would you
refuse hot chocolate?"
"I don't like chocolate."
My facepalm didn't escape Becky's notice.
"What?" she demanded. "There's nothing wrong with not liking chocolate!"
"I have a new appreciation for how much of a jerk your parents are."
"Not liking chocolate isn't a sign of shitty parenting!"
"Your dad buys you a chocolate cake for your birthday every year."
Becky's irritation turned to surprise. "How did you kn—wait, of course, he buys them from you. Stupid question." She crossed her arms and let out a huff. "I didn't realize you paid that much attention."
"Let's just say your parents made an impression."
"Do you like tea?" Homura asked her.
"It's okay, I guess."
"Soup? You need
something warm to drink."
Becky rolled her eyes. "Sure, fine, whatever."
Homura turned to me. "Cassandra?"
"Yeah, on it."
"Thank you. Becky, right? Come here…"
I ducked into the pantry to retrieve a can of chicken soup, which I decanted into a bowl and warmed in the microwave while I continued texting.
Today at 11:48 pm
I found her
Took her home for the moment
Already???
She was camped out on my doorstep 🤷♀️
You know what
Not gonna question it
Since you don't want me to send her home I assume she'll be staying the night?
Shit
Lemon think
Let me^
Really?
Thank you!
I'll call you tomorrow?
I need to figure out what to do
about all this and I'm too tired to
problem solve right now
?
Oh nm
Sorry I typed n p and autocorrect got it
Lol
I've done that
Thanks again
You're a lifesaver
I hope you get a good nights sleep
Yeah wish me luck
Not like I haven't been running
around in a panic for the last
ten minutes 😑
When I finally turned around with the bowl of hot soup in hand, I almost burst out laughing; Homura had tucked Becky into the armchair with half a dozen blankets and at least one old-timey hot-water bottle.
"She's really strong," our guest complained.
"Shh," I said. "Enjoy the warmth. Have some soup."
"Not my mom," she muttered, but she ate the soup.
———X==X==X———
I waited until Becky was half-way through the bowl before I started asking questions.
"I'd been having a really bad day," she said between spoonfuls. "Well, a really bad week, 'cause Dad was… it doesn't matter what he was mad about, but he confiscated my phone and computer the moment winter break started, which is sort of like confiscating my social life, you know?
"Anyway, Dad was going on about the New Year's party this year, and how Megan's not going to be there. He was
really pissed about that; he even said to me, 'Your sister's hiding up in Chicago, so you'd better not sneak off again.' I guess she told him she can't come back for one reason or another, and he thinks she's lying about it to avoid coming home? Like, on one hand, I get that 'cause I'd totally do that if I could, but on the other, she usually just goes along with what he wants 'cause it's easier than arguing, so maybe she really can't drive home? I dunno.
"Uh, so, he says that to me, and then he started talking to Mom about which dress I was going to wear like I wasn't even there. He
knows I hate dresses, he brought it up like that just to make me squirm. So I just kinda… flipped out a little? Grabbed a pair of scissors and went to town on my hair. And then I yelled, 'How's this look?' and ran to my room and shoved a bunch of clothes into my backpack and took off. Dad tried to stop me, got a fistful of my jacket, but I slipped out and ran."
"When was this?" I asked.
"I dunno. Lunchtime?" She shrugged. "I use the clock on my phone, usually."
"Did you have a plan?" Homura asked.
"Not really. I just couldn't stand it anymore—don't look at me like that, I'm not stupid!"
"No one called you stupid," I said.
"She was thinking it."
"No she wasn't."
"I was," Homura said.
Far from being insulted, Becky turned to me with triumph in her eyes. "See?"
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath because what else was I going to do about that exchange?
"So," Homura prompted, "you ran out. And…?"
"Yeah," Becky said. "I ran out. Dad yelled after me, 'If you leave now, you best not come back at all!', so I guess I'm kicked out now?"
"Do you think he meant that?" I asked. "Or was it a spur-of-the-moment attempt to get you to stay?"
She growled and glared into the empty soup bowl. "I dunno. Honestly, I kinda hope he meant it. I'd rather sleep outside than go home, so it's not like it changes much."
"That's not healthy," Homura said.
"
Home isn't healthy," Becky snapped.
"That is what I meant."
"Could you have gone to a friend's house?" I asked.
"No."
Becky didn't elaborate.
"Why not?" I asked.
"I just couldn't, okay? Lay off."
"Okay. I believe you."
She huffed, then yawned—then yawned again, so widely I feared she'd fall asleep on the spot. I coaxed her to her feet before that could happen.
"Come on, up you go," I said. "We've got a guest bedroom set up."
"Al—" Becky's response fell victim to another massive yawn. "Already?"
"You're not the first guest to need it."
"Oh. Cool…?"
Homura tidied up the dishes and blankets while I led her back 'up' the hall and into the bedroom. It was just as clean and bare as it had been before Zeke arrived, though I doubt Becky noticed in her beeline for the bed.
"Do you need some pajamas?" I asked. "Mine will be too big on you, but it might be better than nothing."
"Nah. I'll sleep in my shirt."
"If you're sure."
"I'm sure," Becky grumbled as she climbed onto the bed. "Jeez. Lemme sleep."
"Okay, okay, I'll leave you alone." I turned to leave. "Goodnight, Becky."
"Uh…"
I turned back around. "Yes?"
"Could you… not call me Becky?"
"Would you prefer I called you Rebecca?"
"Well, uh…"
She fell silent for long enough I started wondering if she'd fallen asleep midsentence.
"Actually," she said at last, "I was thinking… could you call me… Eric?"
There were a lot of things I wanted to say in that moment, but he'd long since burrowed under the covers and turned to face the wall, so I just said, "Of course. Goodnight, Eric."
"'Night."
I flipped the light off and shut the door.
———X==X==X———
Homura brought out the Go board and handed me black, and we sat down across the kitchen table for a game. Maybe for her it was relaxing, but I had to pay too much attention for it to be a 'chill' activity—but maybe the point was to distract me. If that was the case, it worked; for a long while, the only sound was the soft
tak of stones touching wood.
Eventually, though, the game began to wind down, and my attention wavered.
"Okay," I said. "So. That happened."
"To be clear," Homura said, "by 'that', do you mean the running away or the, uh, other thing?"
"Mostly the other thing."
Play continued.
"I'm not completely sure what 'the other thing' is," I continued. "I mean, I have guesses, but I want to ask him about it first."
"Him?"
"Again,
guessing, but… Eric's a pretty masculine name."
"Do you think her—sorry. Do you think his parents know?"
"I'm not sure. That might be what his Dad was angry about, or it could be completely unrelated."
I sighed.
"I'll ask him tomorrow. Or Megan, if she calls before he wakes up."
Homura raised an eyebrow a millimeter. "Are you sure she knows?"
"Not one-hundred-percent sure, but I'm not just going to come out and say it. I can be subtle."
"When you're keeping
other people's secrets, maybe."
"I resent that," I grumbled. "Yes, it's true, but I still resent it."
The game concluded after another dozen moves. I lost about as badly as I normally did, which was a pretty fair showing against an expert opponent. Homura offered me another game, and when I declined, she put the board and bowls away.
She was the one to ask the question we were both thinking.
"If 'it' is what it appears—he's transgender and his father is abusing him—what then?"
"I don't know. I want to help, but…"
"We
can help," she assured me. "If he wants our help, we'll find a way to help."
I leaned back in my chair and let go of a breath I hadn't noticed I was holding. "Thanks."
"You're welcome."
"Don't suppose you have any idea what that 'help' would be, do you?"
"You'd know better than I would," Homura said. "Maybe a haircut, to start."
I had to stifle a chuckle. "That's a little mean. I know you didn't mean it like that, but maybe don't say that to his face?"
"He knows his hair is a mess, and pretending it isn't will only come off as condescending."
I worried my lower lip with my teeth for a moment. "You might have a point there."
"We can ask him tomorrow. I'm sure I can make him presentable." She gave me a reassuring smile. "I don't think I need to tell you, but to be clear: anything you think would help, anything at all, I'll make happen. Just say the word."
"A blank check, huh?" I asked, smiling back.
"I trust you won't ask for anything I can't provide. We're not lacking for money, I don't use the second bedroom, and we have access to a lot of different kinds of magic. We'll make it work."
"Thank you." That wasn't enough, so I repeated it. "Seriously, thank you."
"This is important to you—and to him, of course."
"You were pretty mother-hen there yourself," I countered.
Homura shook her head. "I was just being thorough."
"That's what I said."
She shot me a withering glare.
———X==X==X———
If I'd had a 'normal' job, I'd have probably called in sick the next day so I could stay and fuss over Eric when he woke up. I didn't have a 'normal' job, didn't know how late he'd sleep in, and didn't have a good reason beyond my own busybody tendencies to recuse myself, so I set about my normal daily task of home- and shopkeeping.
Homura relieved me an hour into my shift.
"I can take the register for a day," she said. "He'll wake up soon, and I think you should be the one to talk to him when he does."
"Why?"
"Well, I'm sure you remember
our disastrous first meeting."
"I know you're not going to make that mistake again," I told her. "You've been nothing but sensitive about it ever since."
"Thank you. You should still be the one to greet him when he wakes up."
I was tempted to keep arguing on principle, but we both knew she was telling me to do what I wanted to do anyway.
"Thanks."
Homura patted me on the shoulder, then shooed me away from the register. I headed upstairs and changed out of my uniform—which meant taking off the apron, un-tucking my shirt, and not much else. B—
Eric wasn't stirring yet, so I called Megan.
"Hello?"
"Megan? It's Cassandra."
"Cassandra!" she yelped. "Ugh, I'm sorry. I know I said I'd call you today, but I wanted to have something to say, you know, a plan or something, and I'm at a total loss."
"That's fine," I told her. "It's not urgent—she can stay another night or two."
"I can't ask you to do that!"
"You didn't ask. I offered."
Megan stuttered a bit, then took a deep breath and murmured, "Thank you."
"It's not a problem, really. Uh, the reason I called was actually that, well… Becky mentioned a name I didn't recognize. Do you know someone named Eric?"
There was a second's delay before Megan said, "No…? I thought I knew all her friends, but that doesn't ring a bell."
"Not at all?"
"No?" She sounded confused. "Are you sure she was talking about a real person and not, like, someone's D&D character?"
"That could be it. I'll ask her when she wakes up."
"Right. Um, I know I said it before, but thank you so much for dropping everything to find her. I was really worried."
"It's not a problem," I insisted. "I'd be worried too if someone I knew was out all night in this weather."
"And for letting her stay over—you really went above and beyond, Cassandra. Thank you so much." Megan stopped and sighed. "Ugh. I'm really not sure what I can do to help. I'm not sure I can do
anything about it. I think… if she's lucky, Dad will have cooled off by now, and she can… fuck, I don't know. Fake an apology and tough out another two years? It sucks, but I don't have any alternatives."
"Try not to worry about it too much, okay? We'll figure something out."
"Yeah. We'll… we'll figure something out."
"I'll keep you updated," I promised.
"Mhm. Thanks."
"No problem."
"…"
"…"
"…"
"Well," I said, "uh… bye."
"Bye."
———X==X==X———
I heard Eric start moving around around noon, but he didn't stick his head out into the hallway until half past 1.
"Good morning, Eric," I called from the kitchen. "Or should I say good afternoon?"
He grunted and closed the door for a moment before emerging properly and walking over to sit down at the kitchen table, wearing the same shirt he'd slept in and what I assumed were yesterday's jeans.
"Did you sleep alright?" I asked.
Eric shrugged. "Okay," he said to his lap. "Never sleep right in a strange bed."
"Oh, yeah, I used to be the same way. Want something to eat? If you're in the mood for breakfast, I can make pancakes or eggs. Or if you want lunch—"
"'M not hungry."
"Really?"
He grunted again rather than lie outright.
"Well, let me know if you get hungry, 'kay?"
"Sure."
Thus began the waiting game. Eric stared at his lap. I looked at his haircut—probably salvageable, assuming he didn't mind cutting it short—and what I could see of his clothes—a large graphic t-shirt, badly rumpled from being slept in. Every five to ten seconds, his eyes would dart to me, then back to his lap.
After half a minute of silence, I realized I wasn't so much 'letting him go first' as I was 'leaving him in suspense'.
"Eric?"
He started. "Huh? Oh, right. Uh…" Eric did an odd sort of shiver-shrug. "That's just, you know, my D&D character, you know? I missed this week's game, and, uh… I missed it, I guess."
"So do you want me to go back to calling you what I normally call you?"
"Yeah. That's… that's fine."
"Okay," I said. "I can do that.
But, I want you to know that if you want me to call you something else, or use different pronouns, or anything like that, that's fine too. All you have to do is ask."
"Uh… no, that's—I don't—"
I raised a hand to interrupt. "Sorry, hold on. I'm not trying to accuse you of anything. I just want to make you as comfortable as possible, so all you need to do is tell me what you want, and I'll do my best to accommodate you, okay?"
Rebecca/Eric curled further into a ball of nerves.
"And if you're not comfortable saying anything, you don't have to—the only reason I want to know is so I can treat you the way you want to be treated. If you don't want anything to change, you don't have to say a word."
They took me up on that.
"Would you like a shower?" I offered.
"No—err, I mean…" She looked down at her rumpled shirt and sighed. "I could use a shower, yeah, but… no, I should…"
Rebecca(?) sat up straight and set her jaw; her arms went from hugging herself to folded in challenge. "I'm transgender," he said. "That's why I ran away, and if that's a problem, I'll leave now."
It took me a second to formulate a response.
"It's… not a problem?" I said. "Not at all. I meant it when I said it would be fine—for goodness sake, half the reason I jumped to conclusions is that I'm transgender, too."
His response was a disbelieving, "Nooo."
"Yup."
Eric very carefully kept his wide eyes pointed everywhere except at me, lest he be caught trying to clock me in light of my shocking revelation.
"Should I still call you Eric, then?" I asked.
"Yes. Uh, please."
"And your pronouns?"
"He/him," Eric said. "I mean, you probably guessed, but, well, I'm…"
He stopped and swallowed, unable to say the word.
"A boy?" I finished for him.
The challenge went out of him like a popped balloon.
"I'm not," he mumbled. "Should've been. Wanna be. But I'm not."
"Eric."
It took him half a second to remember he was supposed to respond to that name.
"Eric," I repeated, "you are whoever you want to be. If you tell me you're a boy, then you're a boy, no matter what your body looks like. That's what being transgender means. If you tell me you don't want to be a girl
or a boy, or you feel like both, or it changes day to day—then that's who you are, and I will treat you, talk about you, and talk
to you however you want me to."
"So you're fine with pretending I'm a boy? Even with…" He poked his breasts.
"It's not pretending. Your body doesn't determine your gender, no matter what people try to say. I mean, if you want it to be pretend, I'll pretend, but just because your body looks one way doesn't mean acting another way is fake."
Eric blinked and looked away, wiping at his eyes with the back of one hand as—I hoped—a little bit of tension left him.
"Uh, not that I'm not happy to see you and all," he said stiffly, "but don't you work, like, all day?"
"Akemi took my shift. Said I should be the one up here when you woke up."
"Why?"
"Couple reasons. She wants to be respectful, but she wasn't sure how to talk about things with you, well, 'respectfully'." I paused, then added, "And also because she knew I was stressing out about it and figured it would be better for me as well."
He snorted.
"Yeah, I know," I grumbled. "How are
you doing?"
"S'okay."
"Okay enough to answer a few questions?"
"Can I refuse?"
"Obviously."
Eric stood up and wandered over to the window, floating back and forth across the edges of the room. Finally, he shrugged and said, "You can ask whatever, as long as I don't have to answer."
"Does Megan know you identify as male?"
"Hmm? Oh, yeah. She does."
"Ah." I cleared my throat. "I, uh… I asked Megan if she knew an Eric, but she didn't recognize the name."
"Well, I just kind of… decided to use that one on the spot? She used to call me R.B.—the letters from ReBecca, but pronounced like, you know, the sandwich place? It's kinda masculine and flew under the radar until I screwed up." Eric sighed and poked at the blinds absentmindedly. "She kept my secret better than I did."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I yelled it at Mom during a fight about… I think it was about clothes or something? I hate dressing up, and I have no words for how much I hate
these." He waved a hand at his chest. "She threw a fit to Dad, and Dad… Dad went quiet, which is even worse than him screaming. You know?"
"I know. Believe me, I know." I gave Eric a moment, then asked, "What happened next?"
"He turned my life upside down is what. He thought my friends were the problem, so he cut me off."
"How'd he do that? I mean, I get that he can stop you from leaving the house, but he couldn't stop you from talking to them at school, could he?"
"He pulled me out of school!" he snapped. "I had to change schools right at the end of the year 'cause of him!"
"You and Megan didn't go to the same school?"
"Nah, I was having trouble in class when I was really young, so I got moved to a private school. He didn't want to pay for it, but Mom yelled at him until he gave in and sent me to school in Apoapolis."
Eric gave up looking at the blinds and returned to his seat with a heavy sigh. "So, yeah, I had to transfer schools like a month before graduation, which
sucked."
"Graduation?"
"Middle school graduation. Why'd you think I didn't have any friends as a freshman?"
"Oh."
"I tried to run away that summer—after freshman year, not, like, eighth grade—and Dad tracked me down and brought me back. I guess he still cared back then? Anyway, he offered me a deal: if I spent the next year doing my very best to be a girl and I
still wasn't happy, we'd talk about… you know. Transition stuff.
"So I did. I dressed how
he wanted, hung out with friends
he approved of, and did everything he asked for a whole damn year. I even stopped complaining, because Dad said complaining meant I wasn't giving it 'my best shot' and it'd be breaking the deal! So I put up with it all sophomore year, just like he wanted. By the time summer rolled around I wanted to die, and I told him so. I told him I could barely get up in the morning because of how much I hated living like this, and you know what he said?
"He said I was doing
so well that
obviously I should stay a girl! That I was just 'confused' and would 'get used to it' if I just kept going! He doesn't believe trans people even exist and never planned to honor the deal in the first place!"
Eric paled slightly when he realized he'd been shouting, but my reaction pushed his embarrassment out the window. "Fuck that!" I snapped. "Sorry, I mean… no, you know what? To hell with him! That's beyond cruel!"
He stared at me for a long few seconds.
"Sorry," I mumbled. "That might have been out of line."
"No, I, uh, appreciate it. I don't usually get that kind of feedback, you know?"
"Um… you're welcome?"
"Thanks." Eric broke eye contact again, staring down at the table in front of him. "After he broke his end of the deal, I said hell with it, gave up being 'committed', found some online communities. That's how I found the D&D group I'd been playing with for the last couple months, until Dad started snooping on my computer and caught me role-playing again. When I was playing Dungeons & Dragons, I could pretend I wasn't
me, you know?"
"I get it."
"Do you real—?" He cut himself off and looked up at me again for a moment.
"You said you're a trans woman?" he asked at last.
"Yeah."
"Your transition turned out great."
"I got really lucky," I said, which was one hundred percent true. "And I do 'get it'. Escapist fantasy was my lifeline in high school."
Eric nodded, accepting my empathy. "Did you transition in high school, then?"
I snorted. "I wish. I didn't even know I was trans until I was thirty."
"Seriously?" He gave me another appraising look. "You barely look thirty now."
"Thanks." I forced a small cough, then returned to the previous topic. "You said your dad went through your phone?"
"My computer. I dunno what he did, but he definitely found out I was role-playing. That's why I lost my phone and computer privileges."
"And that was last week, you said?"
"Yeah. Right at the start of Christmas Break, which is the worst."
Well, that was
sort of a segue. "So… what happened yesterday?"
Eric looked up at me, then went back to looking off to my left. "S'like I said: Dad was making a big deal out of New Year's, talking about
his daughter like I wasn't even there. Emphasizing it, even, and… honestly, I could probably deal if it wasn't for the whole dress-up thing? But that's exactly what he was rubbing in my face, and I got so fed up I just, I dunno, decided to break his stuff, I guess."
"His stuff?"
He pointed to his hair. "He thinks he owns me. Well, he can't
replace me, not like a TV or something."
"You cut off your hair to get back at him."
Eric flinched.
"Eric? You okay?"
"Yeah, sorry, just… it worked a little too well."
He stood and started wandering around the kitchen again, too restless to stand still. "I heard you dropped by one of Dad's big New Year's parties. Can you imagine what it would look like if I showed up to something like that with my hair like this? He was so mad for a moment he couldn't even speak. He turned
purple. That's when I knew I had to leave."
"Were you already planning to stay out all night?"
"I wasn't
planning anything! I just shoved a bunch of clothes—wait, where's my bag?"
"I put it in your room," I said, nodding towards the bedrooms.
"Ah. Didn't even look for it." Eric let out a small puff of amusement. "Thanks for letting me stay here, by the way."
"I'm glad I could help. How'd you end up here, anyway?"
I twisted around in my chair to stay facing him as he wandered over the kitchen counter and picked up the electric kettle to fiddle with.
"I didn't know where to go," he said. "All my friends—my
real friends—lived in Apoapolis. I headed over to the library, but they kicked me out at closing, so that didn't help much. Anyway, it was getting real cold out, and I didn't have my winter jacket 'cause I'd had to wiggle out of it to get free of Dad when he grabbed me. You seemed nice, and I know Megan likes you, so I thought, you know, maybe I could beg a cup of tea or something."
"At midnight?"
"I got here at… I dunno, like ten minutes after whenever the library closes? I didn't know how late you guys stay open, or even what time it was, but I didn't have anything better to do." Eric put the kettle back down on its stand and wandered over to the windows again, forcing me to twist the other way. "I was tired of walking, and it was cold, and I'd probably have to sleep outside anyway, so… I figured it was as good a place as any. Out of the wind, at least. Kinda dozed off until you jumped out at me."
"Not a bad choice," I said. "Made you easy to find."
"I guess." He turned to face me again, though he was still looking off to my left rather than meeting my eyes. "So, uh, what happens now?"
"Well, since you're asking me…" I stood up and walked over the refrigerator. "
I think you should have breakfast. Did you have lunch or dinner yesterday?"
"I had soup, didn't I? I'm all right."
Eric's stomach growled in contradiction.
"Eggs or pancakes?" I asked, already rifling through the fridge.
"Pancakes sound nice," he mumbled.
"Great." I pulled out the milk and eggs and set them on the counter. "How about you take that shower while I make pancakes?"
Eric looked down at his rumpled shirt and sighed.
"Yeah, I guess I do need a shower."
———X==X==X———
