Becoming Her (Trans)

Chapter 18

"You're back!" Darlene exclaims. I smile at her as I step inside the Fox Hole. She comes out of the bar section, a drink with a mini umbrella in hand. Looking down at my feet, she adds, "And you brought your heels, too!"

I nod. "Yep!" I resist the urge to look at the pumps. Before I drove here, I took the time to practice walking around them. Mom had taken Kelly out to God-knows-where, so I was perfectly safe from getting caught. 

"I see you're proud of them," Darlene says, grinning. "Are you planning to get a dress to go with them?" She takes a sip as she waits for my answer. 

"Well, um," I start. "I don't really know where I can find one, what with my build," I finish lamely. Really, Mom might find out--probably from a friend of hers that saw me at the mall--and demand why I got a dress. Somehow, Darlene can tell I'm holding back the real reason.

Taking another sip, Darlene starts speaking. "I know a store that can attend to your needs. Some of the employees there are even transgender themselves, so they'll definitely help you."

My ears perk up. "Really?" I ask. She nods. "Wow. That's . . . awesome. Where would I find it?" Immediately, Darlene grabs a napkin from the bar counter. Whipping out a pen, she writes down the name of the store and directions on how to get there from the club. She hands it over to me after she's done.

"Tell one of them I sent you," she suggests. "They'll be more than happy if you do."

I don't ask questions when I put the napkin safely in my pocket. Instead, I thank her. 

"It's no problem, Miya," Darlene says. She leads me to one of those tall tables I usually see in bar scenes from movies, the ones where you can be comfortable sitting or standing. "Now, I haven't had the chance to ask you last time," she starts. 

I watch her stir her drink with the umbrella. "Um, yes. What would you like to ask me?" 

"I'm wondering about how you knew you were in the wrong body." If anyone else have asked me this, I would have bristled at how insensitive it sounds. From Darlene however, she seems pretty curious. 

So, I tell her about admiring myself in the mirror, hiding Miya from my family, even Mom yelling at me about the make-up, etc. Darlene doesn't say a word whatsoever; she only listens. By the time I'm finished, another song is playing and more people have come into the club. I now have to make sure I'm not bumping into anyone around me. 

Darlene appears thoughtful as she finishes her drink. "As much as I love your courage from when you were a child, I'm disappointed by how your father had treated you. Your mother, too. Isn't the most common phrase from parents when they meet their children for the first time, 'They're perfect. I wouldn't trade them for anyone else'?" 

I've never thought of that. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see two girls arguing. If Josh was here with me, we'd be playing the game where we try to interpret what they're talking about. 

"I don't care what alien brainwashed you into microwaving a pan," Josh would say, using a high-pitched voice for the Asian girl. "He totally stole that awesome Dora poster and used it as a skateboard." (Let me clarify that Josh gets more frivolous when he gets into the game, sometimes a little too far.)

After I'd laugh really hard, I'd reply in my normal voice for the blonde, "You know what? You can have the dancing chicken on the Target sign--"

"Whoa whoa whoa, what?" Josh would interrupt, laughing harder. "That doesn't even make sense!"

"Oh, but an alien does?" I'd shoot back. 

Darlene gives me a concerned look, making me get back into reality. "What are you laughing at?" she asks. I haven't realized I was snickering.

"Sorry," I apologize. "I was playing a scene in my head."

"Ah." The girls are now hugging, the fight obviously over. The Asian proceeds to kiss the blonde on the lips. "Well, at least those girls aren't breaking up this time."

Pretending to notice them for the first time, I ask, "Do you know them?"

Darlene scoffs. "Are you kidding me?" she responds. "More than half of the people here know them. We call them the Drama Royals. Behind their backs, of course." She hides a smile as she asks the nearby waitress to get her another drink.

I smile, too. "They do this all the time?" 

"Honey, I'm pretty sure they're the reason most of us come here." As if on cue, the Drama Royals leave the club through the back. A few people groan, and they also leave shortly after.  

"They should be hired as comedians or something," I say to fill up the gap in our conversation.

Darlene slaps the table top as she lets out a deep laugh. "That would bring half the world here if they did," she says. Several people turn to stare at her, confusion written on their faces. She eventually calms down, especially after she chugs down her freshly made drink the waitress brought. "But I agree with you. It would be interesting, indeed."

Someone bumps into me. I turn my head to a wasted girl. She grabs a hold of my arm and slurs, "Hey, you're fucking cute." At least, I hope that's what she said. The other version I heard would make things extremely awkward between us. 

I carefully get her hands off me. "Thanks for the compliment," I say. I then turn her around. The girl wobbles towards the direction, turning her head back towards me a couple times for a wink. I shudder and distract myself by looking at my phone for the time.

"Do you have to go, Miya?" Darlene asks. I nod, showing her the time. "Wow. I haven't realized how late it's gotten."

"To be honest, me neither," I respond. I start to put my phone away, but Darlene holds out her hand to stop me.

"Why don't I put my number in your contacts, in case you want to talk sometime?" she suggests. I think about it, and hand it over. She types her number down, and gives it back to me. "You can call or text me any time."

Putting the phone back in my pocket, I say, "I'll keep that in mind, Darlene." I flash my smile. "Thank you for talking to me tonight." 

"No problem, hon."