her, Alex urges. Ask her now.
‘About Crockett,’ I begin. ‘He’s a solicitor. I went to see him because…’
She freezes. She’s stopped breathing.
‘I need a birth certificate,’ I say.
Her mouth draws back from her teeth as if she’s tasting something bad.
‘That says I am a girl,’ I finish.
Her hands curl into fists. ‘You’re just not going to let it go, are you?’
I put my arms around my knees and stare at the television. You know what she could do at a time like this? Take a deep breath. Chill out.
‘No, Mum, I’m not going to let it go. This is who I am. Why are you so fixed on me being something else?’
‘And you’ve always felt this way?’ she asks me. The tears are welling up in her eyes. Her hand shakes slightly in front of her mouth. A tremor. It’s weird, as though she’s stifling a yawn. But maybe she is really asking me to tell her how I am feeling. Maybe just for a moment it could not be about her.
I cover my face with my hands. ‘Sometimes I don’t know what I am. But what I would like to be on the outside—what I want other people to see—is a girl. I’drather be a strong-looking girl than a, kind of, girlielooking boy.’
Now she’s crying. ‘Do they pick on you? For being smaller? Or more feminine? Is that why you left your old school?’
I sit up. ‘Of course they did! I’m a freak, Mum.’
‘Don’t you dare say that! Miss Sunshine,’ she hisses.
That’s new, Alex notes.
‘You’re not a freak. You’re different. Special.’
Alex pulls a face. ‘Schpeshaw.’
She lurches forward. ‘Don’t you dare!’ I think for a moment she’s going to hit me, but she doesn’t. A tear spills down her cheek.
‘We should have just asked you. We should have waited and asked you.’ She shakes her head. ‘It seems so simple now. I am a bad mother. I am a terrible mother. Why didn’t we just ASK you?’ Her voice is getting higher and screechier. She wipes her face with her sleeve. ‘Why didn’t anyone tell us this would happen? Nobody told us. No one said this was an option. We spent all this time trying to guess.’
What the hell is she talking about? Alex asks.
I don’t even know. I get off the couch and head up the stairs.
‘Why do you always walk away from me? It’s torture!’ she wails. ‘Alex? We’re talking about something here. Alex! It hurts me!’
I turn around and march back down the stairs. I grabmy mother’s hand and I lead her into the little nook where her computer is. I find the page I am looking for on YouTube and I click play. Then I go back up the stairs, because I don’t want to watch it again. Two seconds later I can hear her screaming and crying. She sounds like she’s having an asthma attack.
She runs up the stairs and she hammers on my door so hard it makes the books rattle right off the shelf.
You know the dying of embarrassment thing, which happened at my old school, that I was talking about before? Well, I totally understand why people take huge drugs. Like heroin, or cocaine. I can understand why you would want to be literally out of your own head, because being inside your own head is unbearable. In fact, the reason I haven’t taken drugs like that is because I know that it would be so good to be out of my head that I wouldn’t be able to stop.
Besides, I don’t know where you go to buy them.
I put my headphones on and practise my very fast clapping. I’m totally in the zone.
28
I TURN UP at Crockett’s at nine. He is burrowed so deep into his paperwork that I wonder if he slept in it.
‘Hey, Alex. Nice to see you,’ he says, emerging from over the top. ‘Just, um, help yourself.’ He waves his pen towards some drop sheets in the corner. Then he frowns and looks at his paperwork again.
There are a few paint cans, a roller and a brush in a tray. A ladder leans against the wall. I start by moving piles of things into the middle of the room, and then I put the sheets over the top.
I have pulled my hair
‘About Crockett,’ I begin. ‘He’s a solicitor. I went to see him because…’
She freezes. She’s stopped breathing.
‘I need a birth certificate,’ I say.
Her mouth draws back from her teeth as if she’s tasting something bad.
‘That says I am a girl,’ I finish.
Her hands curl into fists. ‘You’re just not going to let it go, are you?’
I put my arms around my knees and stare at the television. You know what she could do at a time like this? Take a deep breath. Chill out.
‘No, Mum, I’m not going to let it go. This is who I am. Why are you so fixed on me being something else?’
‘And you’ve always felt this way?’ she asks me. The tears are welling up in her eyes. Her hand shakes slightly in front of her mouth. A tremor. It’s weird, as though she’s stifling a yawn. But maybe she is really asking me to tell her how I am feeling. Maybe just for a moment it could not be about her.
I cover my face with my hands. ‘Sometimes I don’t know what I am. But what I would like to be on the outside—what I want other people to see—is a girl. I’drather be a strong-looking girl than a, kind of, girlielooking boy.’
Now she’s crying. ‘Do they pick on you? For being smaller? Or more feminine? Is that why you left your old school?’
I sit up. ‘Of course they did! I’m a freak, Mum.’
‘Don’t you dare say that! Miss Sunshine,’ she hisses.
That’s new, Alex notes.
‘You’re not a freak. You’re different. Special.’
Alex pulls a face. ‘Schpeshaw.’
She lurches forward. ‘Don’t you dare!’ I think for a moment she’s going to hit me, but she doesn’t. A tear spills down her cheek.
‘We should have just asked you. We should have waited and asked you.’ She shakes her head. ‘It seems so simple now. I am a bad mother. I am a terrible mother. Why didn’t we just ASK you?’ Her voice is getting higher and screechier. She wipes her face with her sleeve. ‘Why didn’t anyone tell us this would happen? Nobody told us. No one said this was an option. We spent all this time trying to guess.’
What the hell is she talking about? Alex asks.
I don’t even know. I get off the couch and head up the stairs.
‘Why do you always walk away from me? It’s torture!’ she wails. ‘Alex? We’re talking about something here. Alex! It hurts me!’
I turn around and march back down the stairs. I grabmy mother’s hand and I lead her into the little nook where her computer is. I find the page I am looking for on YouTube and I click play. Then I go back up the stairs, because I don’t want to watch it again. Two seconds later I can hear her screaming and crying. She sounds like she’s having an asthma attack.
She runs up the stairs and she hammers on my door so hard it makes the books rattle right off the shelf.
You know the dying of embarrassment thing, which happened at my old school, that I was talking about before? Well, I totally understand why people take huge drugs. Like heroin, or cocaine. I can understand why you would want to be literally out of your own head, because being inside your own head is unbearable. In fact, the reason I haven’t taken drugs like that is because I know that it would be so good to be out of my head that I wouldn’t be able to stop.
Besides, I don’t know where you go to buy them.
I put my headphones on and practise my very fast clapping. I’m totally in the zone.
28
I TURN UP at Crockett’s at nine. He is burrowed so deep into his paperwork that I wonder if he slept in it.
‘Hey, Alex. Nice to see you,’ he says, emerging from over the top. ‘Just, um, help yourself.’ He waves his pen towards some drop sheets in the corner. Then he frowns and looks at his paperwork again.
There are a few paint cans, a roller and a brush in a tray. A ladder leans against the wall. I start by moving piles of things into the middle of the room, and then I put the sheets over the top.
I have pulled my hair
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