His Fair Lady by Kimberly Gardner

there and go home and let Kyle baby her.
    “You should have that looked at. It may need stitches.” Kierra tore several more paper towels from the dispenser and began cleaning the blood from the sink.
    “It’s okay. Look, the bleeding stopped already.” Cautiously Josie removed the paper towels and held her hand up to the light. A wave of faintness swept over her, then was gone.
    “Hmm, I’d feel better if you went to the infirmary. I can drive you. It’s not out of my way.”
    She did not want to go to the infirmary. But she couldn’t think how to refuse gracefully, so she lied.
    “Actually, I’m meeting my roommate at the library. He’ll drive me over there.”
    Kierra gave her a long steady look. “Are you sure?”
    “I’m sure. I’ll help you clean up your office, then—”
    “Don’t worry about my office.”
    “But—”
    “It’s just some broken glass and a little spill. I’ll take care of it. You go and get that cut looked at, and I’ll see you later at rehearsal.”
    Once the ladies’ room door had closed behind Dr. Feni, Josie leaned against the counter and tried to make sense of what had just happened. Did her advisor know or suspect she was trans? If so, how had she guessed? Was it that old adage, takes one to know one?
    Turning to face the mirror, Josie studied her reflection, trying to see what Kierra saw when she looked at her.
    She and Kierra were both taller than most women outside the world of fashion, where heights of five-nine and taller were not uncommon. Her shoulders were broad but not overly developed. Lots of girls had wide shoulders, especially swimmers, so that wasn’t overly freakish.
    Next Josie examined her hands and feet. They weren’t small, but neither was the rest of her. Kierra had both large hands and feet, though she didn’t seem self-conscious about them.
    Josie swallowed, making her Adam’s apple bob. Although it didn’t stick out too much, it was the one feature that caused her the most anxiety. Almost all her necklines were cut to draw attention away from her throat, but she had some that were not.
    All in all she thought she passed pretty well. So how had Kierra Feni guessed?
    Josie shook her head. It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t let it matter, because as nice as it would be to have an older transwoman to act as mentor and role model, she simply wasn’t ready to be “out and proud,” as they said. She wasn’t sure she ever would be.
    She could feel the steady thud, thud, thud of her pulse, a consistent stinging ache in her cut hand. Gingerly she peered at it, but no blood was visible. She would call Kyle and have him pick her up. But when she reached for her phone, she realized all her stuff—jacket, bag, phone—were still in Kierra’s office. She would have to go back and get them before she could call Kyle. But first she had to pee.
    Josie crossed to the row of stalls, chose one at random, went inside, and closed the door. The latch hung slightly askew, and she spent several seconds jiggling it before it caught.
    Up came her skirt and down went her tights and underwear. As she finished doing her business, she heard the door to the ladies’ room open. Footsteps crossed the tile, and a woman’s voice echoed off the walls.
    “I told him it wasn’t going to happen.” Pause. “No, there’s no way.”
    Whoever she was, she was on the phone.
    Josie stood, reached back, and flushed. Still half-turned to the side, she began to tuck herself away. But as she reached for her tights and underwear, the door to the stall burst open.
    Josie and the other woman both squealed in surprise. Josie gave the intruder her back and jerked her skirt down to cover herself.
    “Whoops! Sorry.”
    The door slammed shut, and the woman hurried down the row of stalls to the farthest one.
    Shaken, Josie sat down on the toilet and waited until she was once again alone in the bathroom.
    What had she seen? Maybe nothing. It had been awfully quick, and the woman had seemed