by Arin Andrews
The one and only time I met some of the new people in her life, she invited me to play paintball on campus. She picked me up at my house and introduced me to the two guys in her car, Mark and Justin.
“What’s up?” I said. They mumbled hello.
Katie had to sneak me onto the campus, since only students were allowed to participate in the game. I was nervous, but she reassured me.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “You look old enough. Look at all your facial hair!”
I was happy she’d noticed that even more had grown in recently, but then I heard one of the guys mutter from the backseat: “You’ve got the kind of face that I hate.”
“What?” I asked, turning around.
“Nothing,” Justin said, refusing to meet my eye.
I looked at Katie, but she just stared straight ahead, pretending to concentrate on the road. We were silent for the rest of the ride, but as soon as we parked and the two guys walked a few feet ahead of us, I pounced.
“What the hell was that all about?” I asked.
“What?” she asked.
“That remark about my face. Why didn’t you stick up for me?”
“Oh, that’s just his personality,” she said. “Ignore it. Besides, you could have stuck up for yourself.”
The rest of the day got worse from there. I felt uncomfortable around all the older college kids, who ignored me. I played a pretty lackluster game of paintball, and Katie drove me home after. She never asked me back to campus.
I mentioned to my friend Jon from CAP that I wasn’t getting to spend as much time with Katie, and he offered to take both of us flying. I was psyched, but when Katie arrived at Jones Riverside, a small-craft airport that offers rentals to anyone with a pilot’s license, she was in a foul mood and barely spoke.
We climbed into a white Cessna 172 with red stripes on the nose and tail. I sat in the backseat with Katie, and we took off down the runway. I held her hand and kept trying to make eye contact to smile at her, but she just stared out the window, so I gave up and did the same. The Arkansas River glistened and snaked below us as we reached five thousand feet, and Jon banked sharply and headed toward downtown Tulsa. We did a quick cruise by the Bank of Oklahoma Center before heading back out toward the open countryside.
The sun was starting to inch down closer to the horizon line as we landed, and the plane’s wingtips lit up with orange and red streaks, like feathers on a phoenix. When we all got out, Katie thanked Jon, gave me a perfunctory hug, and left.
“See?” I said as she walked away.
“Yeah, she’s acting weird,” he said. “But college is tough. Give her some more time to get settled.”
It had been almost two months. How much more time did she need?
As Katie seemed to slip out of my life, someone else suddenly stepped back in. Out of nowhere I got a text from Andi.
Can we talk? I really miss you.
I waited a while before answering. I honestly didn’t know if I wanted to hear anything she had to say. Her dismissal of me still stung, and if she had been willing to drop me just because I had said I was bi, what was she going to think of me being trans? But when I told Mom, she said that Andi already knew. It turned out that her mom and mine had kept in touch this whole time.
“And Kelli is okay with me?” I asked, surprised.
“I think they’ve both come a long way,” Mom said. “Give Andi a chance.”
So I invited her over to go for a hike. It was unseasonably warm, and I was shocked when I opened the front door after the doorbell rang. It hadn’t occurred to me that Andi would have changed—I guess I still expected to see the young-girl version of her, with long sleeves that she’d tug nervously around her hands to cover the skin, high-necked shirts, and shoulder-length hair that covered her face. Her hair was longer, and she wore it in a ponytail, revealing her sweet smile, and she was about three inches taller. But most shocking was her outfit—she was wearing denim shorts and a scoop neck T-shirt. Not deep enough to show cleavage or anything, but it was more skin than I’d ever seen on her. She looked like a totally normal teenage girl, full of confidence.
I realized that she was taking me in as well.
“You look great,” she finally said.
“You too.” I shut the door behind me and led her out back and onto the paths down into the woods. I still didn’t know where this was going to go, and I wasn’t ready to have her inside my house.
We scrambled onto the rocks and sat facing each other.
“Cool cabin,” she said, pointing. “When did you build that?”
“Last year,” I said, but inside I thought, You should have been there with us.
“Em . . . I mean Arin . . . ,” she began, but stopped, embarrassed about almost calling me my birth name. I waited for her to recover.
“I never should have turned my back on you,” she finally said.
“So why did you?” I asked.
“I saw things differently back then. I think it turns out we both did,” she said with a smile.
I couldn’t really argue with that, but I wasn’t ready to give in.
“No, really. What made you change your mind? Do you still think I’m going to hell?”
She shook her head. “Hell isn’t what religion should be about,” she said. “It took me a while to figure it out, but I did. I really miss you. And I’m really, really proud of you for becoming who you are.”
It meant everything to hear those words from her, but the rejection still weighed so heavily in my mind. I suppose it was because I finally had a real support system in place, and seeing her was a reminder of the really dark days when I hadn’t. I knew that I needed to forgive her, but I also still needed a little time. And so that’s what I told her.
I lasted about three days before I called her. “Don’t ever ditch me again,” I said.
“I won’t,” she promised. “I admit it—hearing about your becoming Arin confused me at first. A lot. But the more I thought about it, the more I think I always knew on some level. Even seeing you for the first time the other day, it was like looking at this ghost that I always sort of saw hovering over you when we were kids. Does that sound crazy?”
I felt a rush of love for her. “I’ve heard you say crazier things,” I said, laughing. “I’ve really missed you.”
• • •
The Inside Edition episode about Katie and me aired at the very end of October, and Andi came over to watch it with me. I thought the show was okay. It was a Disney version of us, for sure, but that was fine. They put such a flowers-and-rainbows spin on our lives that it relaxed me. There we were, cavorting around the yard and making moony eyes at each other. I guess I believed the hype. I didn’t see Katie as much, but there we were on television, happy and in love. And in my mind that equaled our current state as well. It was still frustrating, though, to see all the images of us on the lake together, with her in a bikini and me totally covered up in a big shirt to hide my binder.
For some reason it hadn’t really occurred to me that anyone would actually watch the show, but I got a flood of Facebook friend requests and messages after it aired. I was also nervous at school—no one came right up to me directly, but I thought I saw people staring at me more in the hallways. I kept my usual low profile, and at home I tried to answer everyone who wrote me, but there were so many new messages coming in that it got sort of overwhelming. But I continued to write back, remembering how much Skylarkeleven had helped me.
A few days later a bunch of blogs started to pick up the story. America’s First Teen Trans Couple! one blared.
Well, that’s just not true at all, I thought. I’d seen plenty of others at OYP and the Equality Center.
One night I was going through my Facebook messages, and I saw one from someone named Jamie. He introduced himself as a trans guy who hadn’t started transitioning yet, and he wondered if I could suggest any good gender therapists in the Tulsa area. I checked out his profile and saw that he went to a
high school the next town over!
I wrote him back immediately and told him that we should meet up, and that I could point him in the direction of lots of resources.
We agreed to meet after school on a Friday, at a coffee shop that was in between our two schools. I waited outside for about fifteen minutes and was just starting to wonder if I’d been stood up, when I noticed a tall, skinny guy standing a few feet away from me, with long curly brown hair that hung in his face.
“Jamie?” I asked.
“Hey,” he said meekly.
He looked so nervous, and I felt an immediate connection to him. I’d been where he was now. I pictured how happy I would have been if Skylarkeleven had magically jumped out of the computer screen and personally guided me through my own transition, and I became determined to help Jamie in any way I could.
“Let’s go inside and talk,” I said.
He was painfully shy at first, and would barely look me in the eye. Getting any information from him was hard, but I managed to learn that he was a senior and headed to college in Tennessee the following year, and he wanted to enter transitioned.
I told him all about Taylor Burns and gave Jamie his number, along with mine.
“Call me any time you need to talk,” I said. “I know how hard it is, but Taylor is great, and you’re going to be fine.”
We met up again about a week later at the same spot, but I didn’t recognize him when he came up to me, because he had cut all his hair off. He had a really kind smile, and freckles that I hadn’t noticed before.
“You look amazing!” I said.
“Thanks!” he said. “I made an appointment with your therapist. I’m seeing him next week!”
A friend of my family’s was throwing a huge bonfire party that weekend, and I invited Jamie to come along. He balked at first. It seemed like he didn’t want to impose, but I badgered him, and he finally agreed.
It was mid-December at this point and I’d just gotten my driver’s license, so I picked him up to bring him to the party. He was still acting really shy and quiet, no matter how many questions I asked him. On the way to the party, we had to pass through Claremore, the small town closest to Papa and Gigi. As I neared the town border, I saw a blockade set up and a bunch of cops on the corner. One of them waved me over, so I rolled down the window.
“Evening, officer,” I said. “What’s up?”
“It’s the Christmas parade,” he said. “We just shut down Main Street. You’ll need to take a detour.”
“Oh, man. We’re already really late for this thing we need to get to. Are you sure you can’t let us through? It doesn’t look like they’ve even started yet. Please?”
I pointed to a side street where I could see a bunch of floats, and people dressed as Santa’s elves scurrying around.
“Oh, let ’em through,” another cop called. “He’s right. They need a few more minutes.”
The policeman sighed and moved the barricade, waving us through. We drove about a block and turned to the center of town, where the sidewalks were packed with what looked like every single resident. As soon as they saw my car, a huge whoop went up from the crowd, and everyone started screaming and waving.
“What the hell?” Jamie said, slinking down in his seat.
“Oh, man. They think we’re the start of the parade,” I said, and laughed. “Just go with it.” I slowed to a crawl, rolled down my window, and stuck an arm out, yelling, “Merry Christmas, everyone!”
Jamie looked like he wanted to die. “Come on,” I urged him.
He sat up a little and smiled, and rolled down his window. “Merry Christmas,” he called out faintly.
“Louder!” I started honking my horn, and the crowd kept cheering.
“Meeerrry Christmaaasss!” Jamie shouted, and we both cracked up and tore out of town.
We became really close after that. We even call that night our friend anniversary. The only problem was that he didn’t like Katie. I introduced them right after Jamie and I started hanging out, and even though he denied it when I brought it up, I got the distinct vibe that he didn’t trust her. It was nothing he said—he’d just get kind of quiet whenever she was around.
I still saw Katie on the weekends, but sometimes it was every other weekend. She was busy keeping her grades where they needed to be in order to stay in school. But she promised to spend the holidays with my family.
I couldn’t wait for winter break to begin. Gigi sewed Katie a stocking so she would feel included on Christmas morning. The day was so much fun, everyone laughing and tossing gifts at one another, and we stuffed our faces with ham, scalloped potatoes—and hot apple pie for dessert. Everything felt back to normal, but the day after, my mouth began to ache horribly. I tried to ignore it at first, thinking that maybe I had just been grinding my teeth at night, but the pain became so unbearable that Mom took me to the dentist.
“Your wisdom teeth are infected,” he told me after poking around in my mouth. “They need to be removed immediately.”
I couldn’t have surgery. This was my Katie time!
The doctor assured me that I’d be laid up for only a few days, but the recovery period lasted two weeks. My entire head felt like it was on fire, and I had to take painkillers. They made me groggy and cranky, and I was in a horrible mood all the time. I wanted to be outside sledding with Katie and going on dates—having the equivalent of our magic summer but in the chilly beauty of the snow. I wanted to snuggle up with her next to an outdoor fire, catch snowflakes on our tongues, and ice-skate while holding hands.
But the only thing I had the energy for was sitting in bed and staring at the television. And even though she stayed by my side, things weren’t the same between us. I was comfortable enough with her by that point to sleep without a shirt or binder on and be completely physically naked, but emotionally we were starting to disconnect. We began to get into big arguments over the stupidest little things, like the proper definition of the phrase “empty calorie.” (I was right.)
School started back up just as my mouth was starting to feel better, but I’d missed out on my chance to rekindle the magic between us. Katie disappeared back into her college world again, and I spent the rest of the winter having to be content with the occasional weekend visits. Mom knew how upset I was about missing out on my chance to spend quality time with Katie, so for spring break she offered to take us and my friends Jamie and Tim skiing in Colorado. I love to ski and hardly ever get the chance to.
Katie didn’t seem as excited about the prospect when I invited her, but I knew she was dealing with midterms, so I chalked her indifference up to distraction.
The day after her last test, we all piled into Mom’s car and drove for nine hours, with Wes in the front seat controlling the stereo and trying to impress us with his considerable belching skills.
By the time we arrived, I was desperate to get out into clean air, but we had to wait until morning to get to the top of the mountain. When we jumped off the ski lift, I pulled Katie aside and into the tree line, away from the crowds. The entire world stretched out behind her—snowcapped peaks and a sky so blue, it almost hurt my eyes. The cheers and screams of people disappearing down the slopes seemed to simply fade away, until it was just the two of us, on top of our own private mountain.
“I got you something,” I said. “I know things have been a little off between us, and I know how hard you’re working at school. I just want you to know that I’m always, always here for you.”
I pulled a ring out of my coat pocket, where I’d been clutching it nervously. It was just a simple band. I couldn’t afford silver, so I’d chosen tungsten because it’s supposed to never scratch or bend.
“It’s a promise ring. Not like in an ‘I want to marry you someday’ way, but just so you know that I promise I will always be true to you.”
She got this sad look in her eye for a split second before putting it on. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “Thank you.”
We were getting ready
to head down the first slope, when out of nowhere Katie suddenly fell and hurt her foot.
“I think I need to go back to the lodge,” she said.
I was a little bummed, but more concerned about her. “Come on. I’ll escort you down,” I told her. She could still stand and ski, so we made our way slowly down a side slope. But when we got to the bottom, she freaked out.
“You weren’t watching me at all!” she yelled. “You should have been watching out for me, and you just took off!”
I blinked. Maybe I’d gotten caught up in the thrill a couple of times, but I had always kept my eye on her to make sure she was okay. I stammered an apology and walked her back to the room, where I got her settled on the couch with the television remote and some hot chocolate.
I started to put my coat back on. “Where are you going?” she asked.
“Back out . . . ,” I said, my voice trailing off as I realized that was not the answer she wanted to hear.
“You’re not going to stay here with me?”
“I mean, we came here to ski, and your foot is okay, and it’s totally cool if you just want to hang back. . . .” I was making it worse with every word.
“Go,” she said, flipping on the TV.
“Katie . . .”
“No, just go. Have fun.”
And so I went. I can see now how it was kind of a jerk move, but we’d spent so much money to go all the way out there to ski, something I never got to do. And it wasn’t like she’d broken her leg or anything. It wasn’t even a sprain.
Those were all the things I kept telling myself on the ride back up the mountain, but a week after we got back, she told me that she wanted to break up.
16
We were hanging out at Papa and Gigi’s, just watching TV. I put a bottle of root beer in the fridge to get cold. I went to the bathroom, came back, and saw Katie drinking the soda.
“Really?” I teased. “I just put that in there for myself!”
When we got into the car to drive home, I heard her inhale deeply and then let it all out in a huge sigh.