Chapter Twenty-Eight
“ARE YOU ready?”
“Almost,” Julian called out. He looked at himself in the mirror, the tie knot eluding him entirely. How had he studied this so much and not yet been able to perfect it? It seemed that all he did Christmas day after lunch was read books and stand in front of the bathroom mirror and wear the tie in a million different ways. He struggled to pull it through the loop, but when it ended up too loose, he sighed.
A knock on the bathroom door soon followed. “How are you doing?”
“Not good. Can you help me tie this?”
Damien stepped into the bathroom, eyeing the golden tie around Julian’s neck with a small grin. “Oh yeah. That’s easy. I can do that.”
He stepped in front of Julian and placed his hands on his shoulders first, straightening out the back of the suit. Julian wore the suit jacket from his closet but one of the new collared shirts his parents had gotten him. He had debated wearing the new sweater, but the tie seemed like the last piece of this puzzle—and part of his armor for the day.
“How are you feeling?”
“Nervous.”
“That’s normal. You’ll be fine. And you look fantastic. You were close, actually, with your last knot. Watch.”
Damien pointed to the mirror and instructed Julian out loud as he went through the motions to tie the tie. When it was done, the knot was perfect. Julian reached a finger up and touched the fabric in awe.
“Wow. That’s great.”
“You’ll get a lot of practice as you grow up. And I can impart all this knowledge to you that I thought I’d have to keep to myself.”
When Damien smiled, his eyes lit up. And Julian remembered the other side about transition—learning how to do small basic tasks, like tying this, learning different sizing for jeans and pants, and maybe even shaving one day. Julian touched his chin reflexively, and Damien noted the sudden interest.
“I can teach you shaving. When the time comes. You’ll be surprised at how long it takes until actual hair comes in.”
“I’m already behind.”
“No. Not really. I guarantee no boy in your high school has enough facial hair for a full beard. Just crumb-catchers above the lips. And no one wants that.”
Julian smirked, thinking of some of the skater kids that Aiden hung around with. A lot of them had the same kind of “pseudo-mustaches” that Julian’s father talked about.
“Then there’s how to buy presents for women,” Damien added. “And if you like girls, then I’m sure we’ll have this discussion a lot.”
“I think I like guys too.”
“Oh.” Damien seemed not to have anticipated this but rolled with it fairly easily. “Anyway, buying presents is an art. You’ll know how to deal with the attention expertly as well.”
Julian nodded. They lingered in the bathroom, Damien checking his hair to make sure it stayed down and styled to the side. He wore his typical suits, and next to one another, Julian liked how they seemed more and more like father and son.
“We’re going to need to get a picture of us,” Julian said. “Maria took one of me and her in my suit, at the party, so I have a new Facebook photo. But I think I want one of us. Mom too.”
“What about me?” Sarah asked, sticking her head inside the bathroom. She noticed Julian’s tie with a thumbs-up and then followed their gaze to the mirror. When Damien lifted an arm and signaled for her to come over, she stood by his side. And there it was, inside the mirror, the family Julian always knew he had. His mother, father standing arm in arm with matching blue colors on her necklace and his cuff links, and then Julian. A little smaller than he should be for his age, with robot-gear cuff links and a golden tie.
“We should go,” Sarah said, though she made no movement.
“Just one second,” Julian said. He took out his phone and put it on camera mode. When he snapped the image, everyone smiled without being told.
“Not the greatest,” Julian said, since he could still see himself with the camera in view. “But I think it’s probably one of the better bathroom selfies.”
“Excellent,” Damien said, approving the photo over Julian’s shoulder. “Maybe we’ll use that on a website or something. Adds some depth and personal touch to the hashtag.”
“Yes, yes,” Sarah said. “But we gotta get there first.”
“You ready?” Damien asked.
This time, Julian nodded.
THE PRESS meeting was held in one of the larger meeting rooms at City Hall in front of a bright bay window. On the stage next to a podium were Julian’s father and some people on his staff, including a nice-looking Asian woman who continually smiled at Julian and an older fifty-something guy with white hair and a sharp laugh. Those three fielded questions from the small group of press that had gathered. Julian sat in a chair off to the side of the stage, along with a couple of other people who looked like interns. Around his neck was a small badge that read Julian Gibson and then Volunteer underneath. While his father and the other two read mandates about Mark Shuman and the bathroom issues that had been circulating in some public areas for the past six months or so, Julian scanned the crowd.
There were a lot of older men with white hair and expensive suits who looked as if nothing interested them, since their faces seemed chiseled out of rock. There were also younger people wearing flashier colors (or just any color but gray or a mix of tweeds) who had cameras or notepads and scribbled hurriedly as a few people at the front of the stage answered questions. Julian noted a camera crew near the back, but it wasn’t for anyplace international or even that big. Just the local news station that sometimes also showed debates with his father. As the white-haired guy read from his cue cards (his name was Steven, Julian learned), Julian grabbed his phone to text Maria as covertly as possible.
I think I’m gonna be on TV. I don’t know if I’m scared or nervous or excited anymore.
OMG. That’s great. City Hall, right?
Yeah. Why?
I may be on my way! I’ll be on TV too!
Julian’s gaze darted around the room again, trying to find Maria. His mother was in the second row, and she waved at him before making a hand signal that was probably supposed to be “Pay attention.” Julian slid his phone away and tried to focus on what the Asian woman, named Annie, was saying, but his eyes continuously flitted to the doorway at the back. Beyond that entrance was where the bathrooms were located. Damien had prepped him that after the dog-and-pony show was done, Julian would be the one to take the plaque and put it on the doorway. The most fanfare would be then, since everyone wanted the clips for the news or photos for the local paper. He wasn’t expected to provide a sound bite, only stand in silence—for which Julian was relieved. Being seen was still a very big deal and something he was getting used to.
“How do you expect the current system to change because of this new addition?” a woman in red in the front row asked. “Will all the bathrooms be accessible to anyone?”
“The system will change, of course, but only slowly,” Annie said. “You know, when I first started at City Hall, there were half as many bathrooms for women as there were for men. And fifty years before that, none at all. Why would they need them, if no one of the female gender came in? Times change, and so do our systems. They’re always in motion. This new adjustment is a tiny, tiny fraction of a larger change we’re currently seeing.”
“Frankly,” Damien added, “it’s taken long enough.”
A few people clapped, but others murmured. Julian could sense the unease in the room right away. A middle-aged woman stood and raised her hand.
“Yes?” Steve said.
“How do you plan on protecting women from men in the bathroom? I feel like all of this will lead to complete ruin if we keep going down this road. What’s next?”
“I understand and hear your concern,” Annie said. “But the rates of attack in bathrooms are exceedingly low. Most often, though, it is transgender individuals who are attacked in p
ublic bathrooms.”
The woman tittered a bit but eventually sat down. When no more questions seemed to be going to come from the floor, Damien stepped up again. Annie and Steve backed away, giving more space to Damien and signaling to Julian that his time was about to occur.
“Thank you for all your attention. This may seem like a small change, but like Annie said, it’s a step in the right direction. Of course, everyone is worried about safety. Of course. But I’ve realized, more and more, that our fear comes from when we don’t talk about issues. I’m glad we’re raising concerns and moving forward, because it means people do not have to be afraid. The hashtag movement we spent some time discussing earlier is entitled ‘I Just Want To Pee.’ That really says it all, right? We just want space, privacy, and safety. But we can’t only think about ourselves and our abilities; we must also project outward. That’s what helping this city is all about, so this is our way. This gender neutral bathroom stall will help others who don’t know where to go.”
Damien paused and waited for more applause. Julian had never really seen his dad like this before and could suddenly appreciate how theatrical and articulate he was. He found himself clapping along with everyone else, until Damien’s gaze fell on Julian.
“Now, my son here has the new marker for the bathroom. I think it’s a good idea if we put it on so we can start things again.”
Damien gestured for Julian to stand. As soon as he did, more chairs scraped against the hardwood floors. Flashes of cameras displayed across his vision. His stomach quaked, and he worried, for a moment, that he would fall over and completely embarrass himself. But he put one foot in front of the other, and he was okay. By the time he reached his father’s side, the nerves were at bay.
“Here you are, Julian,” Damien announced, handing him the door sign. “Will you lead the way?”
Julian nodded. As he stepped down the stage stairs, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He scanned the entrance of City Hall and spotted Maria’s dark brown hair, Josie’s massive curls, and Davis’s baseball cap. As soon as Julian stepped out of the small meeting room and into the foyer, Josie saw him and waved. Maria turned around and waved as well, then blew him a big kiss.
Sorry we’re late, she seemed to mouth from across the room. But you look great.
She followed this up with her thumb in the air, and Julian could only nod in response. When he got to the bathroom door, the camera crew and his father were by his side. Steve and Annie held back, making Julian feel as if it were only himself and his father in the room.
“Go on, Julian,” Damien said. There were already nails in place that would hold the plaque, then a worker close by who would secure it. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Julian placed the plaque on the door. More flashes, more clapping, and a couple of peals of laughter from his friends hidden in the crowd. Damien’s hand came down on his shoulder, and the two of them posed for more pictures.
And then that was it. A small step forward, Julian thought, but forward. Always go forward.
“YOU LOOKED so cute today,” Maria said into the phone.
Julian lay on his bed, once again in his pajamas, and groaned while wanting to hide his face under the blanket.
“I’m serious,” Maria said. “I just wish we could have stayed longer and talked more this afternoon. I had no idea if you were still in trouble or what’s going on there. But man, you looked adorable, and I just wanted to squeeze your face.”
“Is that something you do to adorable things?”
“Yes, actually. Josie told me it’s called Cute Aggression. It’s actually a thing. When something is so wonderful, we just want to destroy it.” Maria let out a loud belt of laughter. “Of course I don’t want to destroy you, but you get the point. I kind of want to jump you.”
Julian bit his lip, his body reacting to Maria’s words, though he was still in the middle of trying to soothe his cramps. He sighed on the phone and informed Maria of his situation.
“Oh, sweetie. I would totally rub your back if I was there. Or get you a hot-water bottle. But that’s not gonna last for much longer, is it?”
“No,” Julian said. “Not if I get on testosterone. I’ve been reading this book my mom got me.”
“You know it all already. You don’t need to study anymore. When’s the other stuff gonna happen?”
Julian shrugged. When he remembered Maria couldn’t see him, he mumbled a response. “Don’t know. I see a therapist tomorrow, though.”
“Still?”
“Yeah. My parents booked it right after the whole bathroom thing, but then double-checked that they could still take me there when the trans issue came out. They can. Turns out the woman specializes in LGBT teens anyway, so it’s, like, her job to know what’s going on with me.”
“That’s good. And from there?”
“Well, we’re seeing Mr. Fisher before the appointment, to get the suspension off my record.”
“Sweetie,” Maria said, in that voice she so rarely had. Serious, yet loving. “You know what I mean. The transition stuff. What’s next?”
“I’m not going to come to school with a beard in January. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried.”
“You’re not?” Julian asked, his voice hitching. He had gotten so used to everyone seeing him as Julian in this body and being cool with it, part of him worried that when he transitioned and essentially started puberty at ground zero again, people wouldn’t like him anymore. Who really wanted to hang around with someone just starting puberty?
“Of course not!” Maria said. “I like you, Julian. I just want you to be happy.”
“Even if I get really, really bad acne?”
“Sure. We’ll get you some makeup. Boy makeup. The kind that, like, newscasters or movie stars wear. Makeup is not girly, okay?”
“Okay,” Julian said, rolling his eyes. He still really didn’t want to wear it, but at least Maria wasn’t going to be freaked out by more zits than average. “Even if my voice starts to squeak like a bad trumpet?”
“Oh. That’s precious.”
“Even if I get so much hair in really weird places? Even if I grow a crumb-duster mustache?”
“Crumb-duster?” Maria repeated, her laughter overwhelming. “Where are you getting these terms? Is that like an official trans term?”
“No,” Julian said, laughing along with her. “But you know what I’m talking about, right? I’m going to look like a really awkward guy going through puberty a few years later than everyone else. I’ll be like Davis when he was eleven.”
“Yikes,” Maria said. “But that’s not yikes at you—at Davis.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.”
Maria sighed, and Julian wondered if he had pushed too far. She likes you. Isn’t that enough? But it was like a wound he couldn’t stop poking, allowing it to heal. What if, what if, what if, he repeated with no resolve.
“I like you, Julian. How much do I have to say it?”
“I like hearing it, no doubt.”
“Well, share the ego boost, then.”
“I like you a lot, Maria. A lot.”
“Yay. Thank you.”
A pause stretched between them, one where Julian swore his own thoughts echoed in his mind, his worst fears repeated back at him twofold. “I’m just… I’m scared. I wanted to tell so many people about this, and I have. But now….”
“Now the changes are real? And you think you can’t go back?”
“Yeah. I’m just scared. Tomorrow is different. Everything is different.”
“Not everything, silly. I’m here. Josie’s here. Davis is too—like, right now, Davis is here. Pretty sure those two are making out.” Maria covered her phone with her hand, muffling some noises. Julian was pretty sure Davis groaned, then asked “What?” over the other line. “Yeah, they’re making out. Aisha and Kent probably are doing that too. And I want to do that with you.”
“Same here,” Julian said, meaning every word. He heard Maria’s smile on
the other end when he continued.
“Well, that’s good. But you know what I mean, right? We’ll all be here. We will tease you about your greasy face and joke around about everything, but we love you.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. A whole lot.”
“I love you guys too,” Julian said. His breath caught in his throat, surprised at admitting it. It felt good, and he knew—and hoped Maria did too—that it was the group he loved as much as her.
“Well good. So I think you should go to bed. I want to keep talking to you, but it’s late. And you need a lot of rest to get what you need tomorrow. Yeah?”
Julian glanced at his bedside clock. Almost eleven. His parents were going to start to lecture him about calling if he didn’t get off the phone, anyway. So he said his standard fifteen-minute-long good-bye to Maria (since inevitably, she’d remember a story she’d want to tell him and they’d talk again), but eventually she was feigning yawning.
“Well, off I go, mi novio. Sleep well, okay?”
“Yeah,” Julian said. “You too.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“WHY ARE we bringing cookies?” Julian asked.
Sarah sat in the passenger seat holding the wrapped plate of cinnamon cookies as Damien drove. He glanced back as he reversed the car from the driveway, careful to avoid the snowbank that obscured part of his vision.
“I think it’s a peace offering more than anything,” Damien answered as he drove out of their subdivision. “We’re trying to make a good impression on your principal.”
“Why? He hasn’t done anything good for us.”
“That’s true,” Damien said, surprising Julian. “Even this gender neutral bathroom he’s putting in is the least he can do, and probably should have done.”
“Yeah. Exactly. So why the cookies?”
“Because even if someone is wrong, you still have to be the better man,” Damien said. “It’s normal to want to retaliate, but you shouldn’t because it’s not right.”
Julian nodded slowly, wondering if this was a small lesson in being a man—or just an adult. When Sarah seemed to nod along, Julian decided it was both.
The Santa Hoax Page 25