Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Growing Up Girl ❯ Chapter 4

Summer eventually ended, and I returned to school. I stopped seeing Heero for our lessons, afraid of what it might do to my body. I avoided him in the halls when we saw each other. He always let his eyes follow me, a strange look in them. I didn't dare look directly at those eyes for fear of what I might see. Would there be anger? Disappointment? Just plain curiosity as to why I hadn't said a word to him since our return to school? That was asking too much.

He finally confronted me on a Saturday. Quatre was out of the room. I was wearing girls' clothes and make-up again, just staring at myself in the mirror. A fist pounded on the door-not angry, just insistent. I had no idea who it was, and told them to wait as I hurriedly tried to change my clothes and wipe off the make-up. I learned that mascara is nearly impossible to remove when you're in a rush.

The problem with that school was that there were no locks on the doors. If it weren't for that, it would have never happened. Heero spoke to me through the door. "I don't care if you're naked or what. It's not like I've never seen it before. I gotta talk to you."

Once again, I told him to just give me a minute and slid the pants off. That's when the door opened. I immediately burst into tears, knowing I'd been caught. I didn't even have to look at him. "God, Duo... what're you doing?" I sobbed and continued to pull the pants off of my legs. Then I slumped heavily on the floor and curled my knees up to my chest, staring at the floor. I couldn't hide the panties or the smeared make-up or the girly shirt I was still wearing.

I knew he hadn't really wanted to know the answer to his question; he already knew. But I tried to explain myself anyway. "You could never understand what it's like for me. It's like something's wrong and this is the only way to make it right." I tried to keep my voice steady in between sobs. I still couldn't look at him. I was ashamed. I'd learned long ago to be ashamed.

"So that's why you haven't spoken to me? Because you really are like everyone says?"

I didn't know what he meant. I nodded. It was a long time before he spoke. When he did, I expected anger, and curled in on myself. "I was raised to be pretty accepting of people, no matter what, but this is just weird." And then he left the room. I knew that, had it been someone else, I would have gotten a harsh beating. I had been lucky. But this had to stop, and I knew it.

I didn't indulge myself in such habits for months. Over the summer, when I went home, only when I was locked in my room did I wear the clothes I loved so much. It had been such a long time, that they were getting small on me.

I was twelve. Puberty had arrived. I noticed it the first morning, that something was different. It was a habit of mine, to check my genitals as soon as I woke up, and hope they were gone, replaced by wonderful female parts. It was a childish dream that I refused to let go of as I got older. But something was different that morning. Things seemed slightly bigger. Hair was beginning to appear. I nearly screamed in dismay and fear. I checked my entire body for more betrayal. There was some on my stomach, some dark hairs. They were under my arms. I don't know if I just hadn't noticed it before, or if it really did just happen overnight. The hair on my legs was getting thicker and darker, I thought.

Scared out of my mind, I jumped into the shower and picked up my mother's razor. A pink plastic lady Bic. I didn't know how to shave, I just knew people did it. Without using shaving cream or even soap, I scraped it along the skin of my legs, under my arms, the small amount that appeared on my stomach-girls didn't have that, did they? I didn't want to shave my face. My father shaved his face. That was something that men did. Besides, nothing had appeared there, yet.

The idea of that happening made me shiver. I knew I didn't want to shave it, but if I didn't, would I grow a beard? I felt light-headed and scared. It was at this point that I realized something had to be done. I knew I couldn't live in constant fear of what was happening with my body and my mind.

I had taken science classes and health classes at school. They were required. I knew why boys changed into men and girls changed into women. It all came back to one thing: hormones. Estrogen would give me the results I wanted, wouldn't it?

There was a women's health clinic in town. Without making an appointment, I dressed up like a girl and went up there, my first time leaving the house as a girl in a year. I told the receptionist I needed to go on birth control. Didn't that contain estrogen? I thought it did. She looked me up and down. I knew I was going to have some trouble doing this.

It took a while, and I had to convince them that I was a girl, but I just wasn't ready to have a pap smear, I was too embarrassed and too young. In the end, I left the office with three months' worth of birth control, for free. I started to take them every day. I had no idea what it would do to my body, or what it wouldn't do. All I had right then was hope.

Puberty continued, despite the estrogen. Male puberty. I went back to school. I'd made sure to get more birth control before leaving, but the limit that they could provide me with was three months' worth. It ran out. I cried on the day of the last pill. Broke down into sobs and curled up underneath the desk in my room. For six months, I'd had nothing but hope. That hope was gone with the last pill, and the only thing I had accomplished was a bit of breast growth. I didn't know, back then, that it could have been caused by the male puberty I was experiencing. It happens to some men, gynecomastia.

The loss I'd experienced with my last pill soon turned to desperation. I had been saving up the money my parents sent me, even though they sent it to me less and less these days. I had 350 dollars. Surely I could do something with that. The question was what could I do? Our school had computers and the internet. Back then, it was still relatively new. There weren't websites on every subject you could imagine, but I went online and found a very basic webpage. They sold hormones. Without a prescription. I took this as a sign that something was going right in my life. I'd been raised slightly Catholic (a Catholic who never really went to church, but still knew the basic rules), so I took this as a sign from God. On the web site, I read about antiandrogens. This was a new concept. They were said to stop testosterone production. I was giddy with excitement. In the end, I ordered as much of the estrogen and antiandrogens as I could afford-six months' supply. It arrived a week later. I pulled the bottles out of the box and lovingly held them. For thirty minutes, I just held them and cried in joy. This would really work. I knew it. This would make things right.

I took them that night. In the morning, everything was the same. It was very anti-climactic.

Eventually, I noticed things beginning to change. My arms and legs, which had been steadily growing more muscular, simply stopped. They slowly began to shrink back down. My hips widened. My nipples became painful and then began to grow. It got to the point that I would walk around with my arms crossed over my chest during school, hoping that no one would notice. I began to layer up my clothes. Three shirts a day to hide myself and the body that was so perfect for me. My penis shrank. I was happy with this.

I took showers only very late at night. I would set my alarm for 1am to wake up and sneak in there. I was even more afraid of being caught naked, now. I knew that, though this body was right for me, it was wrong for a boy. If I was caught, if the other boys noticed growing breasts, that would be the end of me.

I couldn't hide any more, after five months. My breasts were steadily growing. Shirts no longer hid them, no matter how many I wore.

I went to my classes in fear. In the hall, Heero noticed me once again. I was incredibly surprised that word of me hadn't gotten around. I fully expected him to tell all of his friends. I was grateful to him for that, but I shied away from his eyes, trying to walk past as quickly as I could. He caught up with me. "Duo, what's wrong with you?"

What a vague question. There were so many answers, and they were all sitting right in front of him, ready for the taking. What was wrong with me? Even I didn't know, really. "What do you mean?" My voice had never reached the point of dropping. Thirteen years old, and it was still high-pitched and not cracking.

"You look different... like a girl, or something." I looked away, tightening my arms over my chest. He squinted at me. He had noticed the uncomfortable shift. "What are you hiding?" He pulled at my arms.

I panicked and jerked away in fear. That had been a bad decision. Right in the middle of the hall, my arms were pulled away from my chest, leaving me exposed. I couldn't hide the soft lumps under my clothes. Everyone who had been standing around turned to stare at me as Heero screamed, "what the hell?!" and I shrieked in return.

His hands went limp. I pulled away from him and covered my chest again. But people had seen. They had all seen. A few people started laughing. "He's a damn girl!" someone screamed. I backed up against the wall in fear. A few of the boys came over and began grabbing at me. They painfully latched onto my chest, squeezing the sensitive mounds, hard. Roaming hands went down to my groin, felt that I had "tucked." They didn't feel the telltale sign of maleness, and that meant that, to them, I didn't have a male body. A rough hand grabbed the front of my shirt and ripped it open. Buttons flew everywhere. I screamed. Everyone laughed. "We should have known you were a girl, with that long hair." More hands grabbed at me. My shirts were ripped. People were pulling at my pants. I was surprised they hadn't been ripped off, too.

A teacher was the only thing to save me. He stepped out in the hall and yelled at everyone to get to class. They scattered. I fell against the wall again, incredibly ashamed and frightened. I could only thank the fact that we had been in a public place. What would have happened in private? Would I even still be alive?

Heero was still there. He stared at me. It was a few minutes before I noticed him and dared to look up. His face was blank. I slowly stood up, knowing that I had to get out of there. I'd lived in safety from the real world for a long time. But this wasn't even real safety, was it? Now it was even more dangerous, because people knew. My backpack fell to the floor. I didn't bother to close my shirt or cover my obvious chest. I simply walked away, to my room. Heero didn't say a word.

I packed up my things and walked off campus, having no idea where I would go. I had eighty-six dollars, a two months' supply of hormones, and a few clothes. I came to a gas station and called home. My mother answered. I told her what had happened. Sorta. "I was kicked out, mom."

She sighed. Then she got angry. I should damn well know better. Why did I have to be so weird? Why couldn't I just get my act together? They had put me in that school so that I could learn to be a man. It was two hours before she came to pick me up. By then, I'd had the sense of mind to close up my shirt. I kept my arms crossed over my chest. I immediately went and took a long bath. I stared at my body under the water, wondering what was going to happen to me. I was back home. My parents had no reason to send me money anymore. How would I afford the hormones I needed so badly?

Maybe it was time to tell them.

I spent the day locked in my room. When my father came home, I went out in the living room, asking my mother to come with me. I sat down. They stared at me. "We need to talk."

My father muted the tv, but still seemed interested in the show.

I'd worked this all through in my mind, how I would tell them. Now, sitting in front of them, my mind had gone blank. I tried to remember how I'd started off in my imagination. "My whole life... I knew there was something wrong with me."

My father broke in. "Well I coulda told you that."

I ignored him. "It's probably not something that you'll understand. At least, not yet. I hope that one day you will, though. I'm really scared and really alone and I just want your help in this."

My mother sat quietly, giving me a blank stare. My father was getting impatient. "What the hell is it, Duo?"

I took a deep breath. "I'm... not a boy. I'm a girl in a boy's body."

My father glared. My mother looked shocked.

"I've been taking hormones to try and make it right. But now that I'm not at school, I have no way to afford it. I'm going to need your help."

They left the room. I don't remember if my father left first, my mother simply following, or if they were both just too disgusted with me. I sat staring at the floor for a long time, tears running down my face. It wasn't crying, so much as releasing emotions through my eyes. I was overwhelmed and overflowing.

At eleven o'clock, my father came out of the bedroom. I looked up at him hopefully as he approached. He didn't look angry. Hovering over me, he reached into his pocket and took out a wad of money. He tossed it on the coffee table. I stared at it, confused. "I never wanted a son to begin with. And I certainly didn't want a faggot for a son. Pack your stuff and get the hell out of my house. Tonight."

I cried, then.

With only a backpack filled with some clothes and the wad of money my father had given me, I left the house. I didn't know where to go. I went to Hilde's and tapped on her window. She welcomed me into her room and into her arms and we fell asleep in her bed, together, her arms wrapped around me as I cried and soaked her shirt. "It's okay, Duo. It's gonna be okay."

She didn't know. She was trying to reassure me, but the more she said that, the more I had to think: would it really be okay?