Casey

by Cameron James

  "So, a year of chastity?" He asked, his eyes bouncing around my face as he said it.

  "Well there's nothing to say I can't be on the bottom." I replied and his eyes widened, along with the gasp.

  "Intriguing." He murmured.

  "Be quiet." I said then moved towards him, snaking my arm up his chest to rest in his hair, "or are you too freaked out to make out?" I asked, he laughed, a short bark of a sound.

  "Who are you kidding? I've got some stories to tell you, if you think that'd be a cold shower." He said then kissed me before I got a chance to question him, he kissed me, pulling me closer to him as I took a hold of his hair.

  ⚫⚫⚫

  I did not want to go to this mandatory family party. I did not want to go. No I did not. I was still however forced to.

  “Oh, you could at least dress nicely.” Mum commented, as she intruded my room. I fastened my jeans.

  “What do you suggest?”

  “Anything but a t-shirt.” She said, I turned to my drawers, looking through them until I picked out a purple polo shirt. “That’ll do.” She said, it almost amused me.

  “I’m eighteen, why do I have to go?” I queried, she sighed. “It would be fine if it was your family but it’s not, it’s Dad’s.” I stated.

  “I know, I know Casey but we have to make an appearance.” She said, I pouted. “Your Dad needs us to go.”

  “Why doesn’t he not go? We could all have Pizza Hut?” I said, she laughed quite sympathetically, “it’s bad enough that we’re going home, but for the Wicked Stepmother’s party.” I stated but acknowledged the warning look I was given.

  I wasn’t wrong however, it was my Dad’s Stepmother’s seventieth birthday, she didn’t really like any of us – especially me. She asked on regular occasions if I was so boyish because I was a lesbian and when I came out to my family as a collective, she scoffed and said ‘puberty’. I didn’t like her and she didn’t like me – it was a neutral agreement.

  “Okay. You will do as you’re told young man, you will attend, smile and drink.” She said, I laughed.

  “Drink?”

  “Yes. Not too much but if it stops your whining.” She declared, I agreed with her then put my Vans on and followed her down the stairs to where Dad was stood with Abi, who was in a light blue summer dress.

  “Are we ready family?” He asked, only Abi showed some interest. “Wow! This is going to go well.” He said then ordered us out and into the car.

  Casey: SAVE ME!

  Mickey: I’ll be right there, just got to find my cape :P

  I grinned at my phone as we parked on the street. The party was full and it was mostly relatives, there were a few that understood, accepted and respected my coming out, there were a few old dears in the back who didn’t really question or know me for that matter. And then there was my Dad’s Stepmother, who I decided to avoid at all costs, so instead I went and spoke to my gay cousin, Elliot.

  “I don’t know why I’ve been forced here!” He said as we both searched the ice bucket for a drink, “I’m twenty one and I’ve been forced here. AND I couldn’t even bring Karl.” He ranted, I stopped him.

  “Karl?” I queried.

  “Boyfriend.” He replied, “it apparently wouldn’t go well if I brought him.” He moaned then opened his chosen beer with his keys, he then did the same to mine. “I swear, no more family parties.” He stated then shook his head. “Anyway, how are you doing Case?” He asked, so I frowned, I wasn’t really sure if he meant personally, mentally or in my transition.

  “Was that a hard question?”

  “It was you know; it really was.” I said, he smiled at me.

  “Mum said something about you getting ‘the op’.” He said, quotation marks and all, I rolled my eyes.

  “Which ‘the op’? There’s more than just one and if there is just one, sign me the fuck up now.” I said, he laughed briefly.

  “I don’t know, she just said you were getting it.” He stated, I drank more beer.

  “I also have a boyfriend.” I said, deciding I didn’t want to talk ‘op’ today.

  “Oh go you!” Elliot said, I laughed.

  We were soon pulled apart, and made to socialise, apparently Elliot’s mum had someone he just had to meet, so I reconnected with my parents.

  “See, it’s not too bad.” Dad said, I scowled him lightly, “I forgot you weren’t an optimistic” He murmured, I laughed.

  Dad was a middle child, he had two older siblings and two younger Step-siblings, his oldest sister was Elliot’s Mum, after that they all had babies quite late so they’re all around Abi’s age, needless to say she was having a ball.

  “How long until we can leave?” I queried; Dad handed me another beer that meant a while.

  “This is abuse.” I decided, they both laughed.

  “On what grounds?” Mum asked.

  “Holding me against my will.” I suggested, they hummed.

  “Fair point.” Dad said, “I’ll get us a lawyer.” He added to Mum.

  “Great.” She said, “we’ll see you in court Casey.” She said, I laughed.

  “Yes! We made him smile.” Dad said, they high-fived.

  “Oh my God, you’re just so cool, I need to walk away.” I said and did so, weaving myself amongst family until I was stopped, it was like those old western films, everything went sepia, our fingers twitched and we stared into each other’s eyes.

  “Angela.” I said.

  “Oh, call me Grandma, sweetie.” She said, I scowled but looked down.

  “No thank you.” I replied, because my Dad would curse me if I wasn’t polite. “Happy Birthday.” I added, because I was too damn polite.

  “Oh thank you.” She said, I nodded, “Cassie.” She added, I looked up.

  “What?!” I stated, she smiled, extra sweet.

  “I’m simply thanking your politeness Cassie.” She said.

  “That’s not my name!” I said then swallowed, “anymore.”

  “Are you going by a new nickname now? Honestly I think Cassandra is a lovely name as it is.” She said, I cracked.

  “Shut up!” I said, “shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” I repeated then I pushed past her, finding an empty room and barricading myself in.

  My parents changed my name legally on my fifteenth birthday, before I started my exams so all my certificates had the correct name on them. It was one of the best days of my life because my birth name hurt, every time I heard it, it felt like a thousand knives all flying through me at once, it made me feel physically sick.

  I changed my name when I was ten, I remember proposing ‘Casey’ to Mum as another nickname, by thirteen I had declared it my full name. Everyone willingly called me Casey, there was no problem with that, except for just one person.

  I remember being nine and being worried that I’d offend my Aunt Cassie who I was named after, she was who I talked to about changing my name first, she told me to stop being an idiot and called me Casey from then on, she was also the first to start using male pronouns with me. I loved Aunt Cassie, she is my Mum’s youngest sister, but now she’d moved to Australia with her husband, so I hardly got to see her. I needed her now, and I almost got her.

  “Casey!” Mum, she managed to push past my chair barricade. “Casey, what happened?” She asked then came and sat on the bed next to me, lifting my chin and looking at my face. “Talk to me.” She said, I sniffed.

  “I bumped into Angela, she…” I said then pushed my chin out of her hand.

  “She called you your birth name?” She asked, I nodded then coughed.

  “I hate her.” I stated, “because she knows, she knows my name and she knows how much that name hurts me.” I stated, “I told you I didn’t want to come, I told you.”

  “Casey!” She stated, so I looked at her, “calm down. Okay. I know she isn’t your favourite person but you need to calm down. I know how much your birth name hurts you, I know and I know it wasn’t fair her calling you it.”

  “I want to
go home.” I said, “otherwise, I’ll drink.” I said, and it wasn’t a threat, she knew it wasn’t a threat, I was simply stating a fact. “I want to go home.” I repeated. “Now.” I finished, she sighed.

  “Let me go and talk to your dad.” She said, I nodded, almost a compromise. “Don’t move.” She added, so I shook my head, telling her I wouldn’t. She wasn’t gone too long and she returned with my Dad.

  “Let’s get going.” He said.

  “Really?” I asked, he nodded.

  “It’ll be midnight by the time we get home anyway, it’s a good time to leave.” He said, and I appreciated it, I really did.

  “I’ll go and kidnap Abi.” Mum said, Dad sat beside me on the bed.

  “I’m sorry I made you come.” He said, I shrugged.

  “It’s not your fault.” I said, “it’s mine for talking to her.” I added, he nodded slightly.

  “Oh thanks for agreeing.” I said, he squeezed my knee.

  “Come on, I’ll stop for some food on the way home.” He said then stood with me and led me out of the room, back through the party and to our car.

  “You wanted to talk Casey?” George asked, I lifted my head to look at him, seeing him with a dressing gown on, I almost smiled instead I lowered my head again.

  “I thought about drinking tonight.” I said, he didn’t make a noise, “we had to go to my Step-Grandmother’s birthday.” I said then leant my chin on my hands, he nodded, “and she called me my birth name. I’d had, I’ve had two beers, so I told my Mum I wanted to leave otherwise I’d continue to drink.”

  “It’s good that you told your Mum.” He said quietly, I shook my head, “Casey.”

  “I hate that I’m scared of her. I hate that she made me feel that way.” I said, “I’ve come on a lot. I know that, I don’t drink as much or as often. I’d been pretty much dry since I got here which I suppose isn’t that much of an achievement.”

  “Casey, that is a massive achievement.”

  “No, I’ve been here what? Four months?”

  “You’ve been there over New Year’s, over Christmas. That is an amazing achievement Casey. Four months is brilliant and two drinks in four months is also acceptable, especially as you are eighteen years old.” He said, I just looked at him for a little while.

  George had always allowed me and I presume his other patients, to call him out of hours. He always said he was our therapist, which meant he was our therapist all the time not for just one hour a week, he used to tell me to call him if I felt like getting drunk or if I had drank more than enough, he told me he’d always pick up and he did. Although, sometimes I didn’t call him until the hangover had cleared the morning after.

  When I’d moved George ensured I knew he was still available for me to call whenever I needed to, I hadn’t used his lifeline since moving here, not until tonight.

  “Was it as bad as before?” He asked, I sighed.

  “No.” I murmured.

  “That’s progress too Casey.” He said, I put my head in my hands again. I’d drank a lot when I was fifteen before I went on testosterone, it was easier than thinking about dysphoria or even talking about it.

  It took getting far too drunk and being admitted into hospital because I’d fell and split my knee open to finally talk to someone about the fact I was drinking myself into numbness five nights out of seven.

  I’d expected George to shout at me, he didn’t, he was very empathetic, which was almost worse. My Dad shouted, my Mum told him off, but I needed to be shouted at, I was sick of being told ‘it was okay’ and ‘it’s perfectly normal for a trans teen to go through this’, the shouting was what made me want to stop.

  The first time I drank after it was my eighteenth birthday, we cracked open a bottle of wine and toasted to me. They told me that they were proud, all of them, my parents, George, everyone, they were proud that I got myself through it.

  “Casey.” George said, I looked up. “Are you okay?”

  “I will be.” I replied, he nodded slowly. “I was just upset. Did I wake you up?” I asked, he smiled.

  “Yes but I’m not going to hold it against you. I’ve booked my train to come and see you before your operation.” He said.

  “Oh good, thank you.”

  “I’ll be there the day before then I’ll stay for the week, okay?”

  “Okay George.” I said.

  “Still excited?”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe. Nervous, extremely so but excited yes.”

  “That’s good.” He said smiling, I nodded.

  “Thank you George, but I think I’ll go to bed now.” I said, he nodded.

  “We’ll talk on Thursday okay?”

  “Okay.” I said nodding to him, he smiled at me, so I waved then we hung up.

  I didn't even knock upon entry of Mr Elliot's room, it struck me as rude the moment I walked through the door and I debated for a good while whether to go back out and knock.

  "Take a seat." Mr Elliot said, I looked towards his voice. "You're obviously eager to see me."

  "I'm sorry I didn't knock." I said, he shook his head whilst smiling.

  "You came in more politely than most students. Take a seat Casey." He said, I did.

  The room felt more familiar this time around, I didn't spend as much time examining the walls. Instead, I spent it examining Mr Elliot, I read from his teacher pass that his first name was William, I looked for any signs of 'William' in his posture, his face, I soon decided that the name William suited him. He was young, but he also wasn't, he was definitely a man, I however could not pinpoint an age, I settled on early thirties when he decided to speak.

  "I asked you to this meeting for my own gain, really." He said, I frowned, "I want to improve. I want to know more about you because right now, I'm feeling like a pretty lame helpline to you."

  "I already have a therapist."

  "I know." He said, "but I don't want to be useless to you." He said, I smiled slightly. "So, I'd like you to explain yourself to me." He said, I frowned, "I mean, like, I can do gay, I probably went through about ninety percent of the things they did, I can even do lesbian if I don't think too much about the details. But I've never come across a trans student, or at least, a trans student has never made themselves known to me, so I'd like your take on it. I'd like to hear about it from you rather than Wikipedia." He said then quirked an eyebrow at me, I nodded slowly.

  "You want an analogy?" I asked, and I saw him try to form a reply, "I mean to make it easier; I do have one, a weird one."

  "Well, I'm up for it." He said, I nodded to him then tilted my head at him.

  "It's a food analogy. Okay, so, we as a whole, as a species are potatoes." I said, he smiled, "from birth you're told that you are a waffle or you are a chip. You have no choice in that matter, this potato will be a chip, it's not debatable.

  When I was born, I was told I was a waffle, I was always told that I was a waffle, I was told I went with beans and egg, sometimes maybe ketchup. But you don't always have ketchup with a waffle." I said then looked at him, "right?"

  "Sure." He replied, cautiously, I smiled.

  "I however have always known I was a chip; I want to go with ketchup all the time, I want to go with salt and I don't know, vinegar. And yet I was continuously told, no, you're a waffle, but I'm a potato right, and a potato can be either. I know I went to the wrong factory; I was meant to go to the chip factory but somehow my shipping got mixed up and I ended up in the waffle factory."

  "So," he said then ran his hand over his stubble, "what you're saying is, you've always known that something was wrong ever since you were young, you've known something was out of place. It turns out, what? Eighteen years later, that the thing that was wrong was your gender?"

  "Yes." I said then hummed, "I came out around eleven, but I'll give you the eighteen years later for understanding." I said, he nodded.

  "And now you're?"

  "Going through the process to become a chip." I said, "my head knows that I
am, but my body needs to accommodate that."

  "Which is your surgery?"

  "It is." I said then nodded, "but that's in the summer, so…"

  "Of course, it's not the priority in this conversation." He said then nodded. "I think I understand." He said then shrugged. "But I also think it's new, which is why I'm struggling slightly, it's a new concept to me, so will take some getting used to." He said, "I mean that in the best way possible."

  "Of course." I said then nodded, "I understand. It's new to everyone, it was new to my Mum and Dad and it took them about eleven years to fully understand." I said.

  "Well, I've got more than enough time before I retire." He said, I smiled. "Even if you're leaving this year."

  "Oh, don't worry, I'll never be the only trans kid." I said then hummed, "like, ever."

  ⚫⚫⚫

  Everyone seemed to come in pairs to group, or at least it seemed that way to me. Kieran and Riley were boyfriends and had been boyfriends for a long time, I hadn’t quite pinpointed how long but I knew it had been a while, Ashley and Jesse were also boyfriends but they were just sixteen, coming up to their second year anniversary.

  Luke and Kaiden were best friends, known each other since they were small, so I tended to sit next to Milo who appeared to have also come alone, so when group broke off into their little talking groups after the important part of the session I mostly spoke to Milo, who was really quite interesting to me.

  “So you were Milo from the off?”

  “From the off. I think only my parents know my birth name. I struggle to remember it sometimes, you know when there’s names written on the back of a photograph, I find myself asking who I am because it’s my birth name.” He said, I smiled.

  “And your parents were good?”

  “Really good. They really didn’t care.” He said, I smiled. “What about yours?”

  “Come and go with it, they’re good, they get it and they accept it but sometimes I think I’m making them sad or at least I did before my little sister was born, now I sort of think you’ve got your girl be happy.” I said, he laughed.

  “Does she get it?”