recasting the psychologist as the villain from the first James Bond movie.
Chris laughed, but it was a sharp sound. “As well as you’d expect.”
“How’s that?”
“Lousy. He’s no good. There’s no way he’s going to help.” His voice was a low monotone.
“Come on, you don’t know until you try,” she suggested, trying not to let her disappointment show in her voice. Life would be so much simpler if this was something Chris could solve in therapy.
“He just wanted me to talk about how angry I am and if Dad ever beat me. He thinks I’m an abused kid with a bunch of pent- up rage.”
“You are kind of angry,” Claire ventured. He didn’t show it often, but there were times she could feel Chris’s body vibrate with tightly held frustration.
“Yeah,” he said. “But now you know why.”
“True.” She sighed.
She wondered if she could get her mom to send her to a therapist for a bit. Maybe she could find one who did know what to do about a teen who thought they were transsexual. Even just having someone confidentially to talk to felt like a good idea, but then she’d have to talk about her own life too and her feelings about her father leaving and all of that. She didn’t want to go digging around in there until it was time to write her memoir.
“Hey.” Chris’s voice brightened. “Want to go to a movie in Minneapolis on Saturday?”
“Why not just go to one out here?” Claire loved going into the Cities for any reason, but she didn’t want to show her excitement too soon. Since she was always the one pushing for a field trip, the fact that Chris brought it up meant that he had something planned, and she wanted to know what that was before she got her hopes up.
“We’re meeting a friend. From my support group online,” he said.
“A transsexual? Really?”
“Claire!”
“What?” She tried to sound innocent, though she was a little embarrassed by her own outburst. Still, she’d never met a real transsexual before and she was curious.
“That’s kind of…reductive,” Chris said. “We’re more than a one-word label, you know, and I think Natalie would rather be called a girl.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” She paused and wondered if she should apologize more, or if that was enough. “Okay, movie on Saturday.”
They hung up and she stood and looked at the phone as if it was going to ring again and answer all the questions still chasing each other around her brain.
Chris talked about everything so naturally: being a girl, meeting another transsexual girl in the Cities, but it felt so alien to Claire and vaguely disgusting. She tried to imagine Chris with long hair and breasts and in her mind it looked so wrong.
Mom was out in the living room watching TV, so Claire dropped onto the couch with her. She’d learned long ago that if she maintained a certain amount of Mom-time every week, she could get away with just about anything. Her mom acted younger than Chris’s parents, even though she was a little bit older, and often Claire felt like she had more of a big sister than a parent. That bugged her in junior high when life was tougher and she wanted a parent she could ask for help, but now she appreciated how she had so much more freedom than other kids at her school.
“I’m going to the city with Chris on Saturday,” she said.
“Are you having sex with him?” Mom asked.
“Whoa, where’d that come from? No,” she protested.
“Honestly, Claire, I want you to tell me if you are.”
For a moment she considered what would happen if she said “Mom, he thinks he’s a girl” but Chris would kill her.
“No, Mom, we’re not having sex. We fool around and stuff, but I don’t want to get pregnant or anything, that would be a real mess. Besides, I might turn out to be a lesbian.”
Mom rolled her eyes. “I swear, Claire, you make this stuff up just to torment me.”
“I thought that was my job,” Claire replied automatically, but she was thinking about how her
Chris laughed, but it was a sharp sound. “As well as you’d expect.”
“How’s that?”
“Lousy. He’s no good. There’s no way he’s going to help.” His voice was a low monotone.
“Come on, you don’t know until you try,” she suggested, trying not to let her disappointment show in her voice. Life would be so much simpler if this was something Chris could solve in therapy.
“He just wanted me to talk about how angry I am and if Dad ever beat me. He thinks I’m an abused kid with a bunch of pent- up rage.”
“You are kind of angry,” Claire ventured. He didn’t show it often, but there were times she could feel Chris’s body vibrate with tightly held frustration.
“Yeah,” he said. “But now you know why.”
“True.” She sighed.
She wondered if she could get her mom to send her to a therapist for a bit. Maybe she could find one who did know what to do about a teen who thought they were transsexual. Even just having someone confidentially to talk to felt like a good idea, but then she’d have to talk about her own life too and her feelings about her father leaving and all of that. She didn’t want to go digging around in there until it was time to write her memoir.
“Hey.” Chris’s voice brightened. “Want to go to a movie in Minneapolis on Saturday?”
“Why not just go to one out here?” Claire loved going into the Cities for any reason, but she didn’t want to show her excitement too soon. Since she was always the one pushing for a field trip, the fact that Chris brought it up meant that he had something planned, and she wanted to know what that was before she got her hopes up.
“We’re meeting a friend. From my support group online,” he said.
“A transsexual? Really?”
“Claire!”
“What?” She tried to sound innocent, though she was a little embarrassed by her own outburst. Still, she’d never met a real transsexual before and she was curious.
“That’s kind of…reductive,” Chris said. “We’re more than a one-word label, you know, and I think Natalie would rather be called a girl.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” She paused and wondered if she should apologize more, or if that was enough. “Okay, movie on Saturday.”
They hung up and she stood and looked at the phone as if it was going to ring again and answer all the questions still chasing each other around her brain.
Chris talked about everything so naturally: being a girl, meeting another transsexual girl in the Cities, but it felt so alien to Claire and vaguely disgusting. She tried to imagine Chris with long hair and breasts and in her mind it looked so wrong.
Mom was out in the living room watching TV, so Claire dropped onto the couch with her. She’d learned long ago that if she maintained a certain amount of Mom-time every week, she could get away with just about anything. Her mom acted younger than Chris’s parents, even though she was a little bit older, and often Claire felt like she had more of a big sister than a parent. That bugged her in junior high when life was tougher and she wanted a parent she could ask for help, but now she appreciated how she had so much more freedom than other kids at her school.
“I’m going to the city with Chris on Saturday,” she said.
“Are you having sex with him?” Mom asked.
“Whoa, where’d that come from? No,” she protested.
“Honestly, Claire, I want you to tell me if you are.”
For a moment she considered what would happen if she said “Mom, he thinks he’s a girl” but Chris would kill her.
“No, Mom, we’re not having sex. We fool around and stuff, but I don’t want to get pregnant or anything, that would be a real mess. Besides, I might turn out to be a lesbian.”
Mom rolled her eyes. “I swear, Claire, you make this stuff up just to torment me.”
“I thought that was my job,” Claire replied automatically, but she was thinking about how her
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