Who Is Lucas Ryker O'Riley?

10. 14,000,605 POSSIBLE OUTCOMES

Once we were on the road, our parents took turns driving so we wouldn't have to stop as much for dad to take driving breaks. Instead, we could just pull over and they could switch places real quick and we could take off again. That way we would make better time and assure we arrived ahead of the moving van.

To pass the time, I have my lap desk, art pad, and a pack of 150 different shade, colored pencils. Yes, I am interested in art. I love to draw. It's something I've done for years. Drawing people is my hobby outside of football season.

Somewhere in New Mexico, we pulled over for our second fill up of the trip. We all got out to stretch, relieve ourselves, and recharge with a snack and some form of caffeinated beverage.

I offered to go in and do the shopping as long as dad was buying. After I got everyone a drink from the refrigeration unit and selected two bags of chips for us to split, I brought them to the register.

I sat everything on the counter and the clerk greeted me with, "Good afternoon Miss, did you find everything today?"

I was speechless over what the clerk had said to me. He wasn't joking or being sarcastic. He was serious, and just trying to be polite.

After delaying my response for what seemed like a lingering eternity, I snapped out of the sudden shock to my ego and simply replied, "Yes, thank you."

After the innocent mistake by the gas station clerk, my mind was awash with thoughts as I returned to the car.

Mom sensed something was wrong based on the look on my face when I approached the vehicle.

"Is everything okay," she inquired as we pulled back onto the highway.

I didn't respond. I opened my drink bottle, took a sip and began to process those thoughts.

I was now questioning myself and thinking about stuff I had, for the most part, successfully avoided until now. The questions were all crammed into the back corner of my mind where I had shoved them in an attempt to avoid them, but now I could no longer avoid thinking about who I was and questioning who I would ultimately be.

When we get to our new home in Dallas, I wondered, should I still introduce myself to our new neighbors, classmates, and teachers, as a guy, the boy I had learned to be during my first thirteen and a half years of my life? And if I did, was I going to eventually have to tell them my secret or should I just accept the inevitable reality I was trying to avoid and just introduce myself to them as the girl I unfortunately knew I was physically becoming, whether I wanted it or not?

I mean, the clerk back in the store didn't know one way or the other, but he was basically right.

Despite the fact I was raised as a boy from birth, the physical changes I was currently going through made it clear that I wasn't going to be able to continue living as one forever, or even too much longer, for that matter.

The last conversation I'd had with mom about getting my breast removed, ended with her telling me I'd have to be at least eighteen before surgery would be an option.

Starting your freshman year of high school is traumatic enough, let alone in a brand new city with no friends, but how do you go from beloved football playing stud wide receiver to a brand new scrub freshman girl with absolutely no clue how to be one?

This major dilemma was all I could think about for hours. After we stopped to stretch and switch drivers, while I continued to contemplate these thoughts, I pulled out my pad and began making a sketch of myself. I gave myself longer, wavy hair, earrings, makeup, painted nails, heels, a skirt, a hint of hips, and a mid-drift exposing top that contained ample teenage breast, just to see what I might look like.