I'm Not Okay ((FtM Wirt-- OTGW))

       I sighed, looking down at my body. Hot shower water ran down my bare skin, as I looked down at my chest. I couldn't smile. I was me.

       Music from my speaker pounded, making it loud enough to drown my own thoughs. It was on the sink, so I could sing while I shower. I tell that to Greg. I honestly just cry in the shower.

       I hate what I look like. I hate this. I hate me. I hate everything. But mostly my body. I don't want these lovely curves. I don't want these breasts. I don't want these slender legs. I don't want this.

       I'm different. Girls around my age want curves. They want slender legs and breasts. I want everything they don't want. Broad shoulders, handsome jaw.

       Thinking about these things make me feel wrong. Different. Bad? I know some people understand how I'm feeling. I went to that LGBT+ club a few weeks ago. Not my thing.

       I finish with my shower. I turn shut it off, and step out of the shower. My body was freezing, as I waddled to my clothes. I turned off the music. It felt like silence entered the room. The worst thing. The scariest thing. Silence.

       I felt like I had no ability to do anything. I wrap my towel around my waist, and lean against the wall. I close my eyes.

       "Anna!" A familiar voice called. Greg.

       "C-Coming out Greg! Hold on! Gah--" I slipped on the wet water from my shower, tumbling to the cold tiles. I shout of pain, arching up. It was one of those moments where if you do one painful thing, you cry and cry. It didn't even hurt. It hurt inside.

       I tried not to be loud. I sniffled and sniffled, pulling on my clothes. I was simply wearing a red hoodie, jeans, and a beanie. I tucked my glasses away into my jeans pocket. I wiped the wet water from the ground, and opened the door.

       Greg stood in front of me. His chocolate brown hair swept to the side. I gave him a smile. "Hey Greg."

       "Hi Anna," He said, shoving me out of his way and into the bathroom. I pulled my hair into a tight bun before tucking it in my beanie. I pulled my backpack over me, and headed out the door. Greg's class didn't start until another hour.

       I listened to my music as I walked down the roads. I always have to be listening to something or doing something. It can get annoying, but I manage. Whether it's tapping my pencil or drumming my fingers along the desk, it has to be something.

       I enter school. It's flooded with students. I wanted to leave. My head hurts. I wanted to cry or die.

------------------------

       School was okay. After school was LGBT+ club. I had no homework or plans after school, so why not go?

       I was easily greeted by the members. They were nice. Different, but nice. I felt out of place. They knew what different sexualities and genders were out there. To be honest, I had options. Gay, straight, bi. Boy, girl. That's it.

       I sat down in the corner of the glassroom. I remember Jason Funderburker was talking about how everyone in the club were "weird" and "creepy". I didn't know how to respond, so I shrugged and nodded. God, I hated that boy.

       The "captain" of the club was at the front of the room. He had blond short hair that was gelled to the side. He had light green eyes, and a nice smile. He was pretty cute.

       We played jepordy. Well, they did. I watched. I listened. I took note of the different sexualities and genders possible.

       "What's when you feel like a boy, but your sex is female? And they haven't actually transitioned?" He asked. I felt like he was called for me. My heart skipped a beat. I shot my head up at the captain. He looked at me. His scerene eyes were beautiful. I think he knew.

       "Transsexual!" A girl shouted. She was also beautiful. She had beautiful dark brown hair, pulled in a messy bun. She had light blue eyes, like a bluebird. She had pale skin, and rosey red cheeks. She had red lipstick. She was elegant.

       "Yeah!" The captain said, chucking a candy at her. Transsexual?

       I raise my hand. The captain looked at me. "You're..."

       "Anna," I introduced. "Wait, I don't get transsexual?" I ask. I was hoping for more description. Talk less, listen more.

       "Oh!" He said. He walked closer to me. He smelled of weed. "Transsexual is basically when you feel like you should be in the opposite sex's body. You know? When I was a female, I was transsexual before I made my transition. I wanted to be a boy. Do you?" He asked.

       My heart pounded. I felt my eyes stinging. Do you?

       "I-I.." I began. "I mean,"

       The boy smiled at me. "I'm Ray." He said. He headed back to the front of the room.

       "What is pansexuality?" He called, continuing the game.

-----------------

       I sat on my bed. It was 7. I couldn't get that girl out of my mind. She was so elegant and beautiful. No words described less. She seemed harsh, but in a good way. She was brilliant.

       I look up transsexual and female to male transitioning. I did research.

       I'm pretty sure I was transsexual.

-----------------

       The next day at school, I saw Ray. I walked closer to him. "Ray," I said. My hair was in a low pony tail.

       "Hm?"

       "I-I think I.." My lip quivered. I looked down at my converse. I didn't know how to say it. I even recited my lines. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap.

       "Transsexual?" Ray asked. He had a nice smile.

       "Yes," I said weakly.

       "Come to the club. We'll talk. I have to go to class." He winked I smiled. We left.

---------------

       I showed up, just like what he wanted. I sat down where I regularly sat. This time, the beautiful lady was next to me. Her hair was still in that lazy, beautiful bun. She turned to me.

       "You're Anna, right?"

       "Me? Yeah, I'm Anna."

       "I'm Beatrice."

       Beatrice.

       "Hello."

       "Ray told me." She said.

       "What?"

       "He told me you wanted to transition."

       "Oh."    

       We were quiet. I looked down at my lap. She looked down at hers. She looked at me. I didn't look back.

       We talked more about transitioning, and tips. Ray told us that if we wanted to hide our breasts, we could get a secure binder, or even a sports bra. My breasts weren't big; they weren't an issue.

       "Anna," Beatrice said.

       I turned my head to her.

       "Let me cut your hair after school." She said.

       My face lit up. "O-Okay."

----------------

       She went over my house after the club. She wore a long skirt, and a tight shirt. She looked amazing.

       Greg was stil at school. My parents were at work. It was just her and I. We walked to my bedroom. I had scissors in my room already.

       "Anna, are you sure about this?" Beatrice asked. We sat in the bathroom. I sat on the toilet seat, and she stood between my legs.

       "Wait," I said. I stood up. We were so close. "I have to play music. It calms me down." I said. I walked over to the radio, and plugged in my iPod.

       Music played gently. She held the scissors, as she brought them closer to my hair. I close my eyes, and sighed. She knew what was happening. I trusted Beatrice.

----------------

       I stood in front of the mirror. It was short. I looked more masculine. I smiled.

       "I love it."

       "I know you do." She said.

------------------

       We sat on my bed.

       "Do you want to continue with the transition, or take--"

       "Beatrice..." I said. "I want to continue. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care." I said, my voice getting louder.

       "Anna, calm down!" Beatrice called. She grabbed my shoulder. My eyes stung. "Anna, we'll make you a boy. Calm down."

       I began to cry. I brought my knees to my chin and cried. "I'm scared," I said. Crying was painful. It was worse when someone was next to you.

       "Anna, It's okay," Beatrice said. "Don't--"

       "Beatrice, what if they don't accept me?"

       "Then punch them in the fucking ass." She shot. She wiped my eyes. Her face was so close to mine. I felt her breath.

       The radio was still playing in the other room.

       "Wirt."

       "Wirt?"

       "Call me Wirt." I said. My voice was shaking. I liked it. It was simple. Wirt.

       "Wirt." Beatrice repeated. "I can get used to that. Wirt."

       We sat on my bed reapeating Wirt. I liked it. I felt nice. I felt like Wirt.

--------------

       I emailed my teachers. They were okay with it. My parents were okay with it too, after hours of explaining. Greg still has to get used to it, but it was okay.

       It was okay. It was really okay.

       I felt okay.

----------------

       I went to LGBT+ club every week now. It's been five months since my transition. People were still getting used to it. It was a hot summer day. I saw Ray.

       "Hey Ray,"

       "Hey Wirt,"

       "See you at LGBT."

       "You too, man." He slapped me on the back. I smiled. Things were okay. They were.

       I also talked to Beatrice more. We texted almost every night. We got personal at times. We were okay.

------------------

       School is out for the summer. Next year is senior year. Mom promised that if I get good grades all next year, I can get testosterone if I want. It was okay.

       I confessed to Beatrice. It was a summer night. We were by a tree. The sky was ink blue, and stars covered the sky. She kissed me. I held her waist, and she wrapped her arms around my neck. We laughed in the kiss. I loved her. She loved me. She accepted me. We were okay.

-----------------

I was more than okay.

I was happy.