CHAPTER 1 I stared at myself in the mirror, but it didn’t feel like I was staring back. It was the same me, same long, blond hair that I had just finished curling, the same freckles splattered across my nose. The same piercing, greenish-blue sea glass eyes. The same legs, long and toned from years of dance. The same me, only it wasn’t me. I was wearing the same thing I wore almost every day, a black pleated skirt with a blouse, the heart locket my mom gave me, and black flats, but it all felt wrong. Like…. like I looked too much like a girl. I’m so confused. What’s wrong with me? I’m always the girliest kid in school. I mean, my room alone would definitely prove it. My walls are light pink, and there is a pink shag rug in the middle of the room. A canopy bed, complete with pink sheets and throw pillows, and pink armchairs in the corner by the window. A white dresser along one wall, with a large circular mirror above it. A desk opposite the dresser, with my backpack hanging off the chair. I have the perfect life. I have a perfect family, me, my mom Stephanie, my dad Harry, my seven year old sister Sophia, and my Golden Retriever Marlow. We live in a mansion in upstate New York, and we have acres of land full of forests and orchards and animals. I go to the best private school in the county, and I have a group of amazing friends. Josie, Aria and Rylee. My best friends. I’ve known them since we were in diapers. We have almost every class together, and we tell each other everything. Josie is tall, with medium brown skin and short dark brown hair. She’s on the school basketball team, and she’s the star player. She loves to joke around and is always up to prank her brothers. Aria has olive skin and brown eyes. She’s super smart, and she’s on the debate team. She’s the best to work with on group projects, and always helps me with my math homework. Rylee and I are the closest. She plays soccer, and has long, dirty blond hair. She practically lives in her jersey and cleats, and while it’s not a good idea to cross her, she can be super loveable and caring. I still don’t know what’s wrong with me though. I looked back at the mirror, and then to the clock sitting on my dresser. I only had three minutes until I had to leave. I had to fix this somehow. I quickly pulled open my drawer and grabbed a pair of jeans. I slipped out of my flats and then pulled down my skirt and stepped out of it. I yanked the jeans on, and then stared back at the mirror. That felt better, but I still needed to fix something. I pulled on socks and sneakers and started to lace them up. I grabbed a hair tie off of my desk and put my hair into a messy bun. I stared at myself in the mirror. I looked pretty good, but how would everyone else react? I was supposed to be the girly girl, supposed to be the one dressed in pink and nice clothes. My mom would flip out. “Madison, honey, we have to leave!” My mom called from downstairs. Speak of the devil. I thought to myself, and then yelled, “Coming Mom, one second!” I took one last look at myself in the mirror, grabbed my backpack off my chair and ran downstairs. I snatched my coat off the hook in the breezeway and ran out to the car that was sitting in the circular driveway. My mom looked me up and down as I climbed in the car. “What on earth are you wearing?” She looked like she was about to explode. I had to think quickly. I couldn’t tell her the truth because… what was the truth? “Um, we have gym today, and Coach said I’m not allowed to wear skirts on gym days.” She frowned. “Fine. Now buckle up. We’re going to be late.” I didn’t want to go in. The door was an opening to a room of awkward questions and uncomfortableness. I had walked into my first period science class just minutes before, so happy I was practically floating on air. I didn’t know why, but I felt really confident in my outfit. More than usual. I got some weird looks from the other students, and especially my friends. My teacher took one look at me and wrote me a pass to the guidance counselor's office. And now here I stand, having a staring contest with the door. I had to do this. Otherwise, they might call my mom. I couldn’t let that happen. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. I stepped into a small waiting room. It only had two chairs, and one was already occupied by a girl. She was tall, probably taller than me. She had short blond hair and was wearing a black jean jacket, gray shirt, black leggings, and super cool combat boots. Her jacket had a blue, purple and pink rainbow pin on it. I sat down next to her and looked around the room. To call it a waiting room would be a stretch. It was more like a closet with a door leading off into the guidance counselor's office. CONTINUED BELOW
I turned to face the girl. “Hey! I’m Madison. What’s your name?” The girl, who was picking at her blue painted nails looked up at me. “Oh!” She said cheerfully, “I’m Kia. My pronouns are they/them.” I stared at her, confused. “Pronouns? What does that mean?” She smiled. “I don’t identify as a boy or a girl. Instead I identify as non-binary. Rather than being called he or she, I like to be called they. So if you wanted to say ‘she is sitting next to me’, you would say ‘they are sitting next to me. Make sense?” I thought for a second. “Yeah I guess it does. So what are you in here for?” They groaned. “It’s my 4th time this week. The teachers here hate it when you express yourself. This time it’s for my pin. It’s the bisexual flag colors.” They added quickly, seeing I was confused. “It means I like girls and boys. I’m non-binary and bisexual. What about you? I think I’ve seen you around school before, and you usually look much different. What changed?” I looked at them. I felt like I could tell them anything. The truth. “Well, I’m not sure. This morning I just didn’t feel right wearing a skirt and well, feminine clothes. I don’t know why. It just felt like it wasn’t me.” They nodded. “Do you have a phone?” They said, pulling theirs out of their pocket. I said yes, and gave them my number. They quickly texted ‘Hi!’ before turning off their phone and slipping it back into their pocket. It was just in time too, because the door to the guidance counselor's room banged open and Lilliana Wilson ran out, followed by a girl I had only seen a few times. She looked like she had been crying. Lilliana was notorious for being the mean girl. She would pick on you for anything. Her boyfriend Joshua Davis wasn’t any better. He was the captain of the football team. A certified jerk. The counselor stood in the doorway to her office looking exhausted. No doubt Lilliana put up a fight in there. “Madison?” She called. “Please come in.” I stood up, my hands shaking, and walked towards the counselor. We stepped into the room and she closed the door. I looked around. The walls were painted pale blue. There was a gray couch along one wall, a chair sitting opposite it, and a desk in the corner. I could see pictures of the counselor and a man on the desk. On the wall above the couch was a line of diplomas and certificates. “Have a seat Madison.” The guidance counselor said warmly, gesturing to the couch. “My name is Mrs. Roy. Now why don’t we talk about this little situation we have here.”
