Becoming Robin By Zoe Taylor The Truth -/- Kelly Has a Se-cret!   I smiled a little. “Thanks Margie. Maybe we can talk when you get back?” She smiled as she leaned down to kiss my forehead. “Absolutely. If you want you can invite Allison over.” “I think Allison hates me,” I quipped. “What? Where did that come from?” She had walked halfway across the room at this point, but she came right back to my side and sat on the edge of the sofa beside me. “Why wouldn’t she? I scared everyone half to death. On the ambulance ride she wouldn’t say anything.”

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Chapter 5 - The Truth Shall Set You Free
The sun shone brightly through the window of my hospital room as I slowly came back to the land of the living. I somehow managed to sleep right through whatever had transpired last night, with only faint memories of being awakened once or twice to answer a question or two groggily. I just wanted to sleep!

I winced as I tried to sit up. My face felt strange, and I instinctively reached up to touch it. Soft, fresh bandages covered my cheek. I realized I was wearing purple fingernail polish, and suddenly, the events of the previous day all came crashing down on me. I panicked as I realized where I was, and peeked under the blanket to see that I was indeed wearing a hospital gown. Eep!

I slowly looked around the room, trying to take stock of my surroundings. I had a nice, private room at least. A well worn leather chair sat to my right, with a familiar-looking purse hanging off the side. ‘Margie must be here somewhere’, I thought.

I was more surprised by what waited to my left, though. Someone had been to the hospital gift shop, as an adorable little teddy bear holding a red ‘Get Well’ heart pillow rested beside a flower arrangement.

I strained to read the card, but from the angle I was laying I couldn’t make out the handwriting. ‘Probably Margie’ I guessed, and laid my head back down again, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

“Hey kiddo. Glad to see you’re still with us.” My sister’s tone carried a calm sense of relief as she stepped inside. The strong aroma of black coffee assaulted my nostrils.

I looked over at her, smiling meekly as she stepped closer, placing her coffee on the bedside table a moment and leaned in to hug me. I put my arms around her as best my IV tube would allow.

“Margie, I am so, so sorry.” I began, but she just put a finger to my lips and shook her head.

“No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you go off alone like that. But we can talk about that later. How are you feeling?”

I shrugged a little. “My face feels like I went ten rounds with a tree, and my ankle hurts.”

“You were very lucky. They said it’s just a mild sprain. They also ran some tests to be sure you didn’t give yourself a concussion when you fell, and so far everything’s come back clear. We’ll have to watch you for the next week or so just to be safe though. They said something like that won’t always be immediately obvious.”

“I really screwed up.” I responded flatly.

“Everybody makes mistakes. Don’t beat yourself up over it. Just be more careful in the future.” Her tone was so gentle. At least she understood that I didn’t mean to run away, though that wasn’t what I was talking about.

“That’s not what I mean Margie.” I was on the verge of tears again. “The paramedics, Allison, the doctors… They all know.”

“You mean…?”

I nodded.

“Yes, some of them know, but it’s okay. Allison doesn’t know yet to my knowledge, and Lisa and your doctors are sworn to confidentiality. I pulled Lisa aside while they loaded you into the ambulance.”

“So that’s why she rode to the hospital with me?” I asked.

She nodded. “Hey, that reminds me, those are for you.” She pointed toward the bedside stand, moving to pick up the bear and set it on my bed as she handed me the card.

“Thanks, Margie,” I said softly.

“You’re welcome, but the bear isn’t from me.”

I blinked at her, looking down at the card she handed me.

‘Robin, hope you feel better soon. XOXO, Ally’ was written in purple ink, and she’d dotted the ‘i’ in ‘Robin’ with a little heart. I heaved a sigh as I picked up the bear and slowly traced a fingertip across its little heart-shaped pillow-message… thing.

“I have to tell her.” I exhaled those words as simply, as rhythmically as breathing, but the truth is, I figured I couldn’t possibly make things any worse, so what did it matter anymore? At least this way I could have a clear conscience. Shifting in bed, I glanced up at Margie.

“So when can I leave?” I asked rather half-heartedly.

“Today, I think. They kept you overnight for observation to make sure you didn’t suffer any serious internal injuries or from hypothermia, but so far everything’s checked out. You basically got by with a scrape and a sore ankle.”

“Wow,” I said softly. “That’s the first piece of good news I’ve had all week.”

“Now for the bad news,” She began.

I was expecting this. ‘Grounded’, I thought, ‘and not allowed out of my room.’ I flinched, but Margie squeezed by hand to get my attention.

She held up the mud-stained dress I had been wearing. It was shredded at an angle where I fell, and one of the shoulder straps had snapped, to say nothing of being cut in half by a pair of scissors at some point after I arrived at the hospital.

“I’m sorry, Robin. It was a total loss.” She sounded so genuinely concerned that I had to laugh. I felt so relieved. “I love you, sis.”

She smiled and hugged me. “Love you too, ‘sis’.” She winked. I smiled faintly. That did raise a good point in my mind though. I couldn’t very well wear a hospital gown home.

“Um, Margie? I need a favor.”

“I wasn’t sure what you’d want to wear, so I just grabbed both your suitcases, since it looked like you hadn’t unpacked much yet.”

I smiled. She thought of everything.

“Listen, Robin, you and I still need to have a serious discussion when we get home, but I just want to remind you right now that you’re not in any trouble, okay?”

That caught me off-guard. I wasn’t in trouble? I’d take whatever victories I could though.

I was about to thank her, when the door to my room opened. An elderly woman in hospital scrubs and a white lab coat stepped inside. Her hair, more silver than gray, seemed to shimmer in the ambient light.

She gave Margie a kind smile then turned her attention to me.

“Well, you gave your friends and family quite a scare last night, young lady.” Despite her words, I could tell by her tone that she didn’t mean anything by it. She had a wonderful bedside manner.

“My name is Dr. Brown, but you may call me Sylvia.”

“Nice to meet you,” I offered quietly. Despite mostly sleeping through whatever tests they ran on me, I still felt kind of weak. The one meal over the course of two days probably didn’t help.

“The paramedics filled us in on your… special case before we took over, and I just wanted to let you know that you have nothing to worry about to that end.

"I will, however, be giving your sister the name of a colleague who specializes in child and teen psychology, should either of you feel that you need or want to talk to someone.”

I know she was only trying to help, but the thought of seeing a ‘specialist’ about wanting to be a girl freaked me right out. She didn’t press the matter any further though, so I certainly wouldn’t.

“Now, I’m sure your sister already informed you, but you’re going to need to stay off that ankle for a day or so. It’s only a mild sprain, and you might even be able to walk on it already, but try not to exert yourself. As far as your other injuries, you took a pretty hard spill, but you should heal up just fine as long as you keep the wound clean.

“If you start feeling dizzy, any nausea, disorientation or confusion, or a sudden, unexplained headache, let your sister or another adult know immediately so they can get you to a doctor as it may be a sign of a concussion. No swimming.” She paused, glancing at the foot of my bed, where my feet poked up under the hospital bedding, and gave a wry smile afterward, “… and use this antibiotic ointment three times a day.”

I hadn’t even noticed that she’d reached into her pocket to retrieve a tube of medicine. She handed it to Margie across my bed.

I was still fighting a giggle at the ‘No swimming’ crack, given I didn’t even own a swimsuit, to say nothing of my ankle.

“Well, with that out of the way, are you ready to go home, or do you want to stay and sample the breakfast menu?”

I cringed. “Home.” I was starving, but not quite that desperate yet.

Both Margie and Sylvia laughed then the doctor stood and took me by the hand where the paramedics had inserted my IV.

“You may wish to close your eyes, dear. I’ll try and be as painless as I can.”

I shut my eyes tight as she removed the needle, and within a few seconds I had a Barbie band-aid placed over the wound.

I couldn’t help smiling a little. Sylvia wasn’t without a sense of humor, but I couldn’t take it personally. It was a sweet gesture on her part.

“Ms. Evans, I just need you to fill out some paperwork at the nurse’s station, and then you’ll be free to go.”

Margie left with Dr. Brown, leaving me alone for a moment to contemplate my situation. I slid to the edge of the hospital bed.

I carefully planted my right foot on the ground, tenderly holding my left aloft while picking up the suitcase, then bringing it, along with my sore ankle, back up onto the bed.

They had wrapped my ankle in a thick, padded bandage held together with a safety pin, so keeping my foot still was easy enough, but the sudden and rapid changes in elevation made me flinch. I definitely wouldn’t be walking anywhere today.

By the time Margie returned, one of the nurses pushing a wheelchair not far behind her, I was already dressed; a pale yellow top under a simple navy knee-length jumper looked the most comfortable, and the most casual, of my options that hadn’t already been placed in my new closet.

I was just about to slide my feet into a pair of flat Mary Jane-styled casual shoes when Margie came around to help. My sandals were ruined, and everything else had a slight heel to it, which I just didn’t feel like dealing with today. If by some divine miracle I’d get to be Robin awhile longer, I’d need to go shopping.

“I was going to suggest a dress or skirt myself,” Margie advised as she oh-so-gingerly held my left foot, “Trying to work a sore ankle through a pair of jeans or sweats is torture of a high magnitude.”

With the aid of Margie and the nurse, I soon found myself being wheeled toward the elevator. I had my flowers in one hand, my new teddy bear in the other, and one suitcase in my lap, while Margie carried the other.

As we reached the elevator, a boy that couldn’t have been much older than me, dressed in a black T-shirt declaring some heavy metal band or other and dark jeans stepped off the elevator.

I could hear strains of metal over his headphones as I was helplessly wheeled closer. ‘Oh my God, is he staring at me?’ I thought.

Off came the headphones as he reached his hand back, pressing it firmly against the elevator door to keep it from closing. He flashed me a smile. I could feel my cheeks burning. I tried not to make eye contact, but Margie’s giggle was contagious. I cracked a smile. ‘He’s going to think I’m flirting!’

He released the door, nodding to the two older women and replacing his headphones. The nurse chuckled, those stupid doors closing far too slowly for my taste.

“I’ll bet you get that a lot.” I could hear Margie fighting a giggle behind me as I bit my lip.

“I’m not allowed to date yet,” I lied, vehemently.

“It doesn’t hurt to look, though,” the nurse commented in response. If Margie wasn’t there, I would have been wishing that elevator would just keep falling forever.

The ride home was pretty uneventful. We stopped off at a fast food drive-through for a rather large breakfast, and while Margie tried several times to engage me in conversation, my heart just wasn’t in it.

My thoughts kept returning to how I was going to tell Allison the truth. To make things worse, for every way I could think to approach the delicate topic, my mind invented ten ways for her to react negatively.

With Margie as a human crutch, I limped into the living room, stretching out on the sofa. I didn’t see Carol’s SUV next door, so I presumed I’d get a reprieve for the moment.

Margie had disappeared into the kitchen, while I began the careful process of removing my shoes. By this point she returned with an ice pack. She unraveled the bandages enough to apply it to my ankle without freezing me then ran off again into another part of the house.

This time she came back with a pair of big, fluffy pillows in plain white satin cases. She handed one to me to lay my head on, while placing the other under my ankle.

“Alright, kiddo, I need to run into town for a minute.” She placed the TV remote on the end table beside me. Margie’s TV had nothing on the Jones’ at a ‘mere’ twenty-seven inches, but I wasn’t about to complain.

She set a bottle of water down on a coaster next to the remote, and handed me her white cordless phone, “If you need anything at all, just call me or Carol. Mr. Jones took her car to the shop for a tune-up so she’ll be home all morning. They’re number two on speed-dial.”

I smiled a little. “Thanks Margie. Maybe we can talk when you get back?”

She smiled as she leaned down to kiss my forehead. “Absolutely. If you want you can invite Allison over.”

“I think Allison hates me,” I quipped.

“What? Where did that come from?” She had walked halfway across the room at this point, but she came right back to my side and sat on the edge of the sofa beside me.

“Why wouldn’t she? I scared everyone half to death. On the ambulance ride she wouldn’t say anything.”

Margie shook her head slowly. “You realize she wouldn’t have ridden in with you if she hated you, right? You need to stop being so hard on yourself. Things really aren’t as bad as you make them seem. Give her a chance, and she might surprise you. Number two on speed-dial,” she echoed her earlier comment, giving me a look that said ‘I’m practicing on you for when I have a daughter of my own’, as she squeezed my hand and stood.

A few minutes after I heard her car pull away, I started flipping through the channels. We had cable back home, but satellite was apparently the big thing here.

Unfortunately I just wasn’t in a TV-watching mood. I switched off the TV, exchanging the remote control for the phone. I stared agonizingly at the sleek speed dial button for several minutes before finally swallowing my pride and dialing.

“You have reached the Jones residence. Please leave your name and number.” Crap. I exhaled slowly.

“Hi guys, this is R--” was as far as I got. A feedback screech of phone and answering machine interfering with one another followed, then Carol’s voice.

“Robin, I’m sorry about that dear. I didn’t know the machine was even on. How are you feeling sweetie?” I heard a faint, barely audible click mid-sentence.

“It’s okay. And I’m feeling a little better. The doctors said I just sprained my ankle, and I just need to use some antibiotic ointment on my face a few times a day. Oh, and she told me I can’t go swimming.” Someone snickered loudly.

“Sorry, Robin,” Allison chimed in, apparently having picked up another phone. “I know that’s so not funny, but she had to know you wouldn’t be swimming on that ankle.”

I actually giggled a little. “Hey Ally. Yeah, I know right? God, this morning’s turning out to be only slightly better than last night. This guy held the elevator for me, and he kept staring…”

Mrs. Jones — sorry, Carol, cleared her throat. “I’ll let you girls talk. Robin, just let Allison know if you need anything.”

“Hey, Robin? Is it alright if I come over?” She sounded hesitant, and a little uneasy, but we both needed to talk about last night.

“Sure, Ally. I’d like that a lot.” Those were the first honest words to come out of my mouth in two days. I really did want to see her again, even if it was going to be for the last time.

“Great. I’ll be right over!” She practically squealed, a stark contrast to her unease a mere moment ago. After pressing the little End button I set the phone on the table. I closed my eyes, figuring I’d just rest a moment while waiting for Allison. I awoke to a familiar, soft hand on my forehead. Someone had brought my comforter down from my bedroom and draped it over me as well.

“Hey… Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Allison said softly as she smiled down at me. “Just checking for fever; how’s the ankle?”

I glanced down at my propped-up appendage. “The same as it was when your mom asked a few seconds ago?”

She laughed, “You’ve been out cold for over an hour.”

Looking at the clock hanging on the far wall, I groaned. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”

“You just looked so peaceful. You don’t feel dizzy or anything do you?”

“Not really, no. A little weak from not eating right the last couple of days, but I made up for that this morning. Three sausage and egg biscuits.”

She laughed. “Good grief. I don’t know how you can eat like that and keep your figure. I look at a cookie and gain two pounds!”

I chuckled quietly. “Anyway, Ally … About last night,” I tried to sit up, but she quickly put a hand on my shoulder, pushing me back down. She then plopped down on the floor with her back against the sofa in front of me. She reached up to squeeze my hand.

“I’m sorry, Ally. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t run away. I was just trying to clear my head, and I lost track of time. The last thing I remember was my foot catching on that big root, and then a face full of tree. After that I sort of blacked out.”

She smiled a little as she tilted her head back to look at me. “That’s a relief. I thought maybe that I had… overdone it.” She stared forward again before continuing, “My friends are always telling me I need to be a little less assertive. I just thought with you being in a strange new town with everything that had happened to you this week… I didn’t want you to have to go through that on top of everything else, y’know?”

“Um, Ally? About that ‘new girl’ thing…”

Without releasing my hand, she sat up and spun around to face me, patiently waiting for me to continue what I had started.

“Ally, I’m… I’m not really a girl.” There. I said it. I closed my eyes tightly, waiting for her to shriek. Not a sound, not a motion followed.

When I worked up the courage to open my eyes again, Allison had a peculiar, understanding smile on her face.

* * *
Chapter 6 - Kelly Has a Se-cret!
* * *
Several seconds of awkward silence passed. She seemed expectant of me to say something more, but what else could I say? I had just outed myself, admitting that she’d spent the entire afternoon, and then part of the evening, with a freak and a liar. She never took her eyes off me, and that curious, almost knowing smile never left her lips.

“You have a funny way of showing it.” She finally broke the silence, “Because I spent the entire afternoon with you; you let me do your nails, we talked about fashion and music, and you listened as I rambled endlessly about the girl scouts, cute boy bands, and school stuff. I don’t know any boys who would’ve made it past that first one.”

“I never said I was normal.” I moved to slide back onto my back, reaching down to straighten my dress as I did, then pulling my comforter back up over my tummy.

Allison giggled to herself as she watched, “It’s what’s between your ears that defines you, Robin, not how you were born. Besides, I’m partly to blame too.” She paused, leaning over and briefly placing her hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, with a little more guilt in her tone than perhaps she should have had, turning to sit with her back to the sofa again. I slid my hand down as she sat, returning the gesture.

“I’m sorry too,” I offered solemnly, “I’ve never had many real friends, and none that knew about my ‘condition’.”

She tilted her head back again, new concern on her face. “Condition? Are you sick?”

I flinched. Did I have to spell it out for her? “I mean my… condition. You know? The girl stuff.”

She giggled again.

I frowned. “It’s not funny.”

Allison just shook her head slowly, “It is funny to me. I’m not laughing at you though. I’m sorry Robin; it’s just that I’ve heard this all before.”

A chill ran straight to the base of my spine. I rolled over, ankle-be-damned, and stared at her.

“You remember yesterday, how I said Kelly used to be all moody and depressed all the time?” She turned to her side, leaning against the sofa as she faced me. I just nodded.

“My sister used to be my brother.”

I didn’t know how to react to that, so I just shook my head slowly. She was obviously just messing with me now. I wasn’t a complete shut-in. I knew there were some people who believed they were born the wrong body, but my exposure to that was basically limited to the cases they show in those horrible Discovery Channel documentaries about the fringe cases, like the transgendered prostitute working in Las Vegas to make ends meet.

From what little I knew of Allison’s sister Kelly, she seemed a well-adjusted, perfectly normal, successful woman. We even talked briefly at the hospital. She was nothing like I expected someone who wasn’t born female to be. She was an all-American girl with a heart of gold, to my mind.

“I’m completely serious,” she insisted. “I’ll show you her old yearbooks the next time you come over. You’ll have to come over this weekend and say ‘Hi’, too.”

With last night’s experiences I’d completely forgotten she mentioned her sister’s coming home this weekend.

This was all so overwhelming. My stomach rolled and fluttered, and my heart rate increased. For a moment I thought it would burst through my ribcage. A few seconds later, Allison was shaking me.

“Robin? Are you okay?”

I blinked, staring half-dazed at her. Was it all a dream?

“You fainted.” She was now standing over me, her brow furrowed in concern.

“I did? So I didn’t just dream it?” I asked hopefully.

“About my sister? No, you didn’t just dream it. Kelly used to be Kevin,” she quipped matter-of-factly as she sat back down again.

I had so many questions I wanted to ask at this point. I struggled with this for so long, thinking I was alone, that I was the only one, and now to learn that there were others like me? This was all too much. I started feeling faint again and reached for the water bottle on the nearby end table. I gave it a squeeze, squirting some of the refreshing spring water into my mouth as Allison continued.

“When she was younger, she was picked on a lot and always in trouble at school. She always seemed unhappy, and when I was born, things just seemed to get worse. The first few years of my life were hell: the parts I can remember anyway. When she was my age someone called her a bad name at school, and she completely lost it. She put him in a hospital for six weeks, and the folks decided they’d had enough.”

I cringed. I was never violent, but I could sure empathize with the rest of it, especially the bad names. Nothing warms the heart like your ex-girlfriend laughing with her girl friends about using you to make some jock see red.

“What happened?” I asked, prodding her to continue.

“Well, you have to understand something. Daddy is ex-Marine Corps, honorably discharged. He figured military school was the answer. When they sat her down to talk about it though, she had a breakdown like you wouldn’t believe. She just started bawling and babbling about how they’d rape and kill her there.”

Her expression soured as awkward silence settled over the both of us. I think neither of us felt particularly comfortable with hearing that word spoken out loud.

I had to wonder how her dad reacted to the breakdown though. I’d gathered that my own father, when he was still alive, was no Father of the Year candidate, though Mom and Margie didn’t talk about him much, and before the divorce, he was hardly ever around for me to develop an opinion. Besides, I was only three or four.

“They took her to see a therapist, who sent her to another therapist who specializes in gender dysphoria,” she finally continued.

“Gen-what-now?” I blurted. I admit it surprised me how comfortable she was with fielding these questions.

She laughed, but good-naturedly, “Gender dysphoria. It’s a term used to describe when someone is unhappy with or uncomfortable because of their birth gender, or in some cases, societal gender role. It’s next-level stuff that’s way over my head. My parents or Kelly could explain it way better.”

“So your dad was okay with this?”

“Not initially. At first he thought it was just a trick to get out of military school until the therapist sat down with them, and flat out told them that if they forced her to go, she’d threatened to kill herself.”

I visibly shivered. Allison sat up long enough to give me a reassuring hug causing me to smile a little. I loved being close to her, both emotionally and physically. Was this what it meant to be in a real relationship, or did all girls have this kind of deep, personal bond with their close friends?

“At that point, he was ready to do whatever he had to do to save her life. The therapist started meeting with her a few times a week, where a lot of her personal demons were brought out into the open. I was too young to really understand at the time. I mean, I was, like, four or something. I just knew big brother wasn’t being scary anymore, and in time we actually grew a lot closer.”

“What about wanting to be a girl though?” I asked, at this point completely abandoning any sense of respect of the Jones’ privacy, though in my own defense, Allison’s fingerprints were all over Pandora’s Box too.

“Well that was the tricky part. The school expelled her for fighting. The other kid got in trouble for starting it, but because it happened so often, she got the harsher punishment. After several sessions with the therapist it was decided that it would be in her best interest to transition over the summer while doing a homeschooling program, and return to regular school as Kelly the next year.

“She transferred to a new school, arrangements were made with school administrative staff and teachers to ensure her safety, and a few minor incidents aside, she was pretty well accepted by her peers. It helped that no one knew she wasn’t born as ‘Kelly’ at the new school, and she only entrusted a few select friends with that knowledge. Nobody else needed to know because, frankly, she IS a woman. She just had a minor birth defect.”

I instinctively looked down toward my lower half at that comment. “Um, well, see that’s one problem I have. I like being a girl. I wish I had been born a girl. I would love to just magically grow breasts and look more feminine than I already do, but I don’t know how I feel about going that far.”

The thought didn’t occur to me until several seconds later that I had just blurted out how self-aware I was that I really did have a naturally feminine ‘look’, minus the curves. To put it to words, I was a short beanpole, but not altogether unattractive.

“Like I said, I don’t really understand it all. I just know what Kelly went through, and I know that she’s never been happier. I can’t believe your sister didn’t tell you all this though.”

“Margie knows?” I asked.

“They went to college together, remember? They were like, inseparable after a couple of years.” She shrugged.

“Oh right." I rubbed my temple, causing Allison to look up at me with concern.

"Headache?"

"No, I just can't believe I forgot.”

Allison squeezed my hand as she offered a sympathetic smile, “You had a long day yesterday. It's totally understandable.

"When Kelly turned eighteen she elected to go ahead and have her surgery done. She wanted to try and start fresh somewhere entirely different, so with our parents’ blessing, she applied for the University of California. They didn’t have the same classes since Kelly was going for a different degree entirely, but they shared a dorm.”

“Dr. Brown at the hospital gave Margie the name of a child and teen psych, but...” I trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence.

Allison picked up on it and smiled. “You should look into it.”

I shook my head, “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?” she immediately quipped back. This little two-word response game was actually kind of fun. At least it eased the tension I felt at the thought of seeing a therapist, though it also distracted us from the sound of Margie’s car in the driveway.

Unfortunately, I had to break the cycle. I couldn’t think of a way to say ‘I don’t know, I’m just scared’ in two words.

“Of… I don’t know. I just am.”

“Am what?” Margie offered, causing me to jump. Allison, having been sitting on the floor opposite me saw her coming, and just grinned.

Margie had a white plastic bag with her clothing store’s logo, “Touch of Style”, printed in a calligraphy-style on the side, along with a grocery bag in-hand. “Hi Allison,” she added a moment later.

“She’s afraid to see the specialist,” Allison answered for me. I wanted to slug her and hug her at the same time. I settled for another neutral nod.

“We have nothing to fear, but fear itself. Know who said that?” Margie stated as she stepped further into the room, stopping beside us. I tilted my head toward Allison, who gave me the same uncertain stare that I’d given her.

“You girls need to pay more attention in history class,” she chastised us playfully. “Franklin D. Roosevelt said that at his inaugural speech, talking about the Great Depression. He was partially paralyzed from polio, but he’s remembered as one of the most influential politicians in modern history.”

“Sooo, you’re saying I do have a disease then.” Allison and Margie both glared at me in unison. I flinched, “It was a joke. I get the point though,” I said with a bite of sarcasm in my tone, but only a small bite. “I can’t live in fear forever, right?”

Allison clapped her hands together. “Finally, she’s listening!” she announced.

“I think she deserves a reward, don’t you?” Margie added, looking to Allison, who just grinned.

Uh oh. Even if Allison didn’t know what Margie had been doing, I still sensed I was being ganged up on. Margie plopped the Touch of Style bag on my stomach, then stepped back.

I shifted the bag around trying to find the opening, and, reaching inside, pulled out a dress that save for the straps being a little wider and flat was identical to the one that I had ruined.

“Oh my God, Margie, you didn’t have to do this!” I practically squealed as I started to cry. For the first time this week, it was for the joyous feeling welling up inside.

It wasn’t just about the dress though. In a weird way, the fact that she took money out of her own pocket to replace that dress cemented in my mind that she really was okay with ‘Robin’ staying with her.

I held it close to me for a moment before sitting up and motioning for her to step closer. The second she was in range I grabbed her in a big hug.

“You’re welcome, sweetie. It’s part of our new summer line, so now you can tell everyone who asks where they can get it.” She winked playfully, but if anyone asked I definitely would tell them!

“I also bought some herbal tea that I’d like you to try, to help with your nerves. Allison, can I make you some as well?”

Allison shook her head. “No thank you. I never could drink herbal tea. I’d love some peach iced if you have any though.”

“You know me; I always have peach iced tea mix on-hand. Kelly saw to THAT addiction.”

Allison laughed as Margie disappeared into the kitchen, leaving us alone again. Allison looked up from her momentary contemplation.

“So, now I have a really personal question for you. You don’t have to answer though.”

“We’re starting fresh, aren’t we? I learned my lesson yesterday. I don’t want to keep anything from you anymore.”

She gave a bright smile at that. “Do you like boys or girls?”

In a way that question came completely out of left field, but on the other hand, we had talked about boys very briefly the other day, and I had mentioned that guy that held the elevator for me. Finally I gave her a little shrug.

“I’m not sure. I love hanging out with you. Just sitting here talking has been more fun than I’ve had with anyone that wasn’t Mom or Margie in as long as I can remember. I did have a girlfriend for a couple of weeks, but it didn’t end well.”

She frowned, “What happened?”

“She flirted with me a lot at first. It took me a week just to work up the courage to ask her out though. I mean, she was a popular girl, and I was a closet-case borderline outcast.”

Allison nodded her understanding, but she didn’t respond, so I kept rambling, “We dated for a couple of weeks. We’d go to the movies or the mall, or I’d go over to her house for dinner.

“She kept me bewildered though. She said she hated PDAs, but she’d suddenly grab my hand as we walked to class then shove it away again.”

“PDAs?” She asked curiously. I suddenly remembered how she’d said she wasn’t allowed to date yet. For the first time we were in territory where I was the more experienced one, if only slightly.

“Sorry, Public Display of Affection. It’s sort of an inside joke around school. Our principal is forever harping about ‘No PDAs!’ and grabbing kids by the ear to get their attention. She’s a real prude.” We both giggled.

“So… what happened with her? Please tell me you dumped her?”

“I wish. No, I was the one that got dumped, literally. It turns out she was using me to get back at her ex boyfriend Arnold, aka The Human Bulldozer. He was the captain of the junior high wrestling team.”

She winced. I could tell she knew where this was going.

“I came away from it with a black eye and a bruised rib, but it could’ve been worse.”

“Ow. Did he get in trouble?” She asked softly, concerned.

“I let it drop. I just wanted to put it behind me rather than make it any worse for myself or for Andrea. I mean, yeah she was screwing with me, but I still had feelings for her. Of course that brought with it its own set of consequences.

"I was branded a wimp for not standing up for myself, but to be honest I just didn’t care. I was glad to be rid of her ogre stalking us.”

“Hey, that’s not fair to ogres. Shrek is awesome.” She laughed.

“You like Shrek?” I responded in surprise. I didn’t care what anyone said; Donkey was hilarious.

“Are you kidding? I went trick-or-treating as Fiona last year! I still have the dress in my closet somewhere. And before you say it, yes, I’m fifteen and I still go trick-or-treating. My friends thought it was totally childish, but I don’t care. I was the one having fun while they stayed home and watched TV, plus it got me out of the house while the folks held their annual Halloween party.”

I gave her a comforting smile, “It’s okay. I haven’t been since… Well, since Margie left for college. It just wasn’t the same without her.”

“You guys are really close, huh?” She asked. Margie answered, as she returned with a steaming mug of tea balanced on a saucer in one hand, a tall clear glass of peach iced tea in the other.

“I babysat for Robin for years, several nights a week. Her mom actually had to make me agree to take some time to do ‘normal’ teen things. I guess she’s always been my awesome baby sister like that. It’s just taken me until recently to realize it.”

I smiled as she set my tea on the end table. I sat up on my side, carefully lifting the mug to take a sip. The aroma was like nothing I’d experienced. The only ‘tea’ we kept in the house back home was of the generic iced variety.

“Wow,” I practically gasped. Margie smiled as she picked up the phone.

“I’m going to go ahead and see if we can set you up an appointment, Robin.”

I wanted to protest, but I knew she was trying to help me. I think deep down, I knew I needed help. I needed answers, and knowing about Allison’s sister had at least given me the courage to take those first proverbial steps toward them.

I was never very religious, but I knew the old adage, ‘The Lord works in mysterious ways’. Maybe God wasn’t punishing me after all.

“Hey Margie. How come you didn’t tell me about Kelly sooner?” Margie stopped in the doorway, looking back at both of us. Allison gave her a ‘should I go?’ expression, but Margie shot her a disarming smile before answering.

“You know that thing I’ve been telling you I needed to talk to you about, but didn’t want to overwhelm you? That was it.

"I wanted to tell you how you aren’t alone and how someone very close to us both went through the same thing, but with everything else, I didn't know how you'd react. I'm sorry Robin. I should've told you from the start."

Allison practically beamed, “Heck yeah you’re not alone!” She repeated.

I smiled. “It's okay. You were just looking out for me, right?”

Margie grinned as she nodded, then stepped into the kitchen with the cordless phone. As I sat up a bit more, sipping my tea, Allison continued.

“So I called Jennifer when I got home last night, and told her about you. Actually, I told her I was really scared of losing you. She told me to slow down, take a deep breath, and asked me to explain what happened.”

With a pause, she offered a sheepish smile, “She told me I was overreacting and that if you hated me, that there was no way you would’ve been trying to apologize. I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I was just so scared of losing you.”

I set my tea down and sat up, leaning forward to hug her. “Ally, wild horses couldn’t pull me away from you. You’re stuck with me now.” I grinned and gave her an innocent peck on the cheek before lying back again.

“Oh, she said to tell you she’s really looking forward to meeting you if you’re still here when she gets back from camp. She wanted to come over today, but her mom’s forcing her into some mother-daughter bonding time.”

“Hey, why aren’t you going to camp this year?” I was just making casual conversation at this point, but I was curious.

“… I really shouldn’t say.” She frowned, shifting her gaze away nervously.

“Ally? Did someone say something?”

“No, it’s nothing like that.” She continued more softly and sighed. “Okay, I have to ask you to promise you won’t get mad.”

“Why would I get mad?” I asked, bewildered.

“Promise!” she insisted.

“Okay, I promise!” I relented; it was crystal clear she wouldn’t continue if I didn’t.

“Okay, here goes. A couple of weeks ago I overheard Momma talking to your sister. I only heard a little bit of the conversation: something about inviting her brother to come stay for the summer.

"I called Kelly and asked her what she knew about you. She talked about how your mom went on and on about you, but had told her you seemed kind of depressed.”

I was by now doing my finest impression of a deer caught in headlights.

“You promised,” she insisted softly. I did promise, and I wasn’t mad. I was however, very, very confused.

“So you’ve known this whole time? And you didn’t say anything?” I tried not to sound hurt. She leaned up to put both arms around me as she rested her head on my chest.

“You were so upset that I didn’t want to make it any worse. Plus I meant every word I said. You really are pretty as a girl, and I had so much fun hanging out yesterday. And like I said, my sister went through an extended tomboy phase. It just, y’know, lasted for the first fifteen years of her life.”

She giggled as I mentally replayed our earlier conversations. It suddenly all made sense, right down to her thinking I ran away because of her assertiveness.

“Oh my God, Ally… You really did think I ran away because of you didn’t you?”

Tears began to stream down her face as she nodded, hugging me again. “I felt so awful. I just knew that I’d driven you away. The second I saw you, crying alone under that big old tree, I guess I saw Kelly in you. Her depression and sadness and everything: it made me not want to leave you alone.”

As she concluded, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close. “Ally, I’m so sorry. I had no idea…”

She sniffed a little and shrugged, “It’s okay. We both jumped to conclusions yesterday. I promise, I won’t hold anything back anymore.”

I smiled, nodding my wholehearted agreement. “Agreed. It just makes things worse.”

I thought silently for a moment then gave her a sidelong glance, “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re staying home this year, when your friends are all going away.”

She offered a wry smile as she looked up at me again, drying her eyes. “The thing is, there aren’t a lot of kids in our neighborhood our age.

"I knew if you did come, you’d be alone here too, and I guess I just couldn’t stand the thought of someone Kelly spoke so highly of not having anyone to talk to or hang out with. I mean, it’d be different if she’d said you were a total jerk or something, but you sounded really sweet.”

“You should still go,” I finally said, though she pressed her finger to my lips before I could continue.

“I know what you’re going to say, and don’t you dare say it. This was my decision, and I’m glad I made it. I have absolutely no regrets whatsoever. Besides, Nikki’s going to be home soon so you’ll have even more awesome in your life!” She grinned.

“Uh, back up. Who’s Nikki, now?” My mind was reeling, trying to keep up with her social circle. I wondered how many more people she’d told.

She laughed, “Call her Nicole when you first meet her, but other than that, she’s one of my best friends. She’s kind of going through a Goth funk, but she’s a great listener, kind of like you. I think you’ll like each other.”

Margie stepped back into the room and interrupted our conversation, “I’ve got your appointment for Saturday Robin. I need to step out again for just a little bit. Allison, you stay as long as you want dear. Just make yourself at home.”

“Thanks Margie,” Allison chimed as my sister leaned over to hug me then stepped out of the living room, heading for the front door.

“So, I guess I get to be your nurse, hm?” Allison grinned, bridging her fingertips together in her best mad scientist impression.

I stifled a laugh, “Okay, Nurse Ratchet. Can you do me a big favor and see if my sister still has a copy of ‘Beauty and the Beast’?” I nodded toward the shelf next to the TV.

“Oh, can we watch it?” She pleaded. I immediately grinned.

“Absolutely!”

She giggled, bounding across the room to check through DVD cases.

“It’s always secretly been my favorite,” I began, “For as long as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to wear a gown like Belle’s just once.” I blushed intensely as I realized what I just blurted out. Allison giggled as she glanced back at me.

“Hey, there’s always Halloween!”