Becoming Robin By Zoe Taylor Angry Psychology -/- Enter Nicole   “Have a seat, Robert.” It wasn’t a suggestion. I reluctantly seated myself, trying as best I could to situate myself with the unbelievably uncomfortable chair: how I wish I'd worn jeans! The hard old leather kept causing my skirt to ride up uncomfortably. He had by now sat across from me, staring down at me and my discomfort with mild irritation. “There’s no need for that. You don’t have to put on a show for me, Robert.” “I don’t know what you mean, sir. And can you please call me Robin?” I asked softly.

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Chapter 7 - Angry Psychology
Steam billowed around the peach-hued shower curtain. I stood in the combination shower/bathtub as hot water cascaded over me, shutting my eyes as I reflected on the events of the past week.

My long, raven tresses were tucked safely under a shower cap, as there was just no way I’d have time to dry it and make myself presentable too, according to Margie.

Saturday had come far too soon for my tastes, and it would be a big day on several levels. For starters, Allison’s sister Kelly would be coming home today, so I’d get to find out how Mom was from someone I knew wouldn’t sugar coat it, but there was also knowing the truth about her past, and that kindred connection we seemed to share now.

‘It’s what’s between your ears that counts, Robin.’ Those words, Allison’s sweet, soft tone rang out in my mind again. I had begun to wonder if, perhaps, she was right. That didn’t help me feel any less terrified of my doctor’s appointment today, though.

That was the other reason this was to be a big day for me. Margie and Allison coaxed me into agreeing to see the therapist Doctor Brown recommended regarding my need, bordering on an obsession in my mind, to dress like and be treated as a girl.

I had even begun wearing a night gown to bed! I thought I was going to cry when Margie brought me some of her old sleepwear. ‘It’s time I engaged you in that oldest and noblest of sisterly traditions — hand-me-downs!’ She’d announced with a giggle.

“Robin, hurry up! We still need to do something with your hair!” Margie’s voice snapped me back to reality. I sighed reluctantly, calling back, “Almost done!”

I ran a hand over my silky-smooth legs with a quiet smile as I shut off the water. I’ve never shaved my face before, as I just hadn’t needed to yet. Mom was always trying to reassure me that late-growth facial hair was perfectly normal in some boys, joking that her first boyfriend in high school didn’t even sprout peach fuzz until he was sixteen. She often promised, much to my inwardly cringing in retrospect, that I’d sprout hair soon enough.

My legs, on the other hand, I’d been shaving since I was thirteen. I never wore shorts so no one ever really caught on, and as I’ve said before, my mom and I only had so much time in a day, so it was a simple task to keep her in the dark as well.

After retrieving a white terrycloth towel from the metal towel rack hanging by the bathtub, I stepped out onto the bath mat and began drying myself. My ankle was feeling a lot better, though still a little tender and the scrapes on my face where I’d had a run-in with a tree were healing wonderfully thanks to that antibiotic ointment.

I spent two hours the night before agonizing over what I should wear today. Margie finally helped me decide, suggesting that I wear something conservative, but something a girl my age would normally wear too.

Ultimately I decided on the green silk top I had been wearing the night I received the phone call about my mom’s accident that I pared with a knee-length white floral skirt.

I ended up borrowing a pair of half-inch heeled white sandals from Allison for the occasion. My feet were a half-size larger than hers, but the open-toed style still made them a comfortable fit, and they added a touch of casual.

After taking my hair down out of the shower cap and dressing, I stepped out of the bathroom. “Margie?” I called from the top of the stairs.

“Down here sweetheart.” She responded. I’ve mentioned before that this house is pretty far from soundproof, so I wasn’t entirely surprised to find, on reaching the bottom step that she wasn’t there. I walked into the kitchen to find her sitting at the small oak dining table, romance novel in one hand and a glass of iced tea in the other. Assorted brushes and combs had been haphazardly arranged in front of the next chair over.

As I stepped closer, I gave her a nervous smile. She peeked over the top of her book and smiled back at me, setting it aside. “Oh, Robin, you look beautiful.”

I blushed intensely as she moved around behind me, gently moving me by my shoulders into the chair. As far as my hair was concerned, I was in completely unfamiliar territory. I’d been letting it grow for about two years, and I tried to take care of it, but was never brave enough to find someone to cut or style it. Margie certainly had her work cut out for her, I thought.

“Have you heard anything from Kelly?” I asked, as she set to work.

“Nothing yet, but Carol dropped by this morning while you were in the shower to let me know she’d be arriving around ten, barring airport delays. We’ll still be in New Haven, but you’ll be able to call her after we leave the therapist’s.

“I’m just going to try and keep it simple for now.” She offered, as she brushed my hair out with a wooden-handled brush. I felt a gentle tug at the top of my head, then several more, followed by a strange sensation across there. I started to reach for the hand mirror lying to the side, but she reached out, placing her hand on my arm to stop me, which caused me to give her a quizzical stare.

“Not yet.” She smiled knowingly then stepped away for a moment, returning with a small tube. I practically giggled.

“You’re letting me wear makeup?”

“Why not? Anything worth doing is worth doing right, and anyway, I think this color suits you.” She smiled while she worked. When she finished, she set the tube aside and picked up a small bottle. “Your face has healed up enough that a little makeup should cover that scrape right up. I’m just thankful you didn’t need stitches.” A few moments later she handed me the mirror.

I couldn’t believe the difference. If people mistook me for a girl before, they’d never believe I wasn’t born one now. Margie had applied a light coat of pale pink lip gloss, and the strange sensation on top of my head was a simple yet elegant headband in a near identical shade of green as my top, keeping my hair in a feminine shape that just added to the total package.

I stood and hugged Margie tightly. “Thank you so much. I just hope the doctor doesn’t find it too weird.” I said quietly as Margie hugged me back.

“Don’t worry so much. Remember, you’re not the first person to have these kinds of feelings. Tell you what: if you feel up to it I’ll take you shopping after your appointment: my treat. Since you’ve decided you want to stay Robin for awhile, you’re going to need to expand your wardrobe anyway.”

I smiled and hugged her again. Finally things were starting to look up for me. If I had only known what was in store, I would’ve run straight to my room, locked the door, and never come out again.

My appointment was in New Haven, an hour’s drive away. We didn’t talk much on the drive in, as it was taking every ounce of strength within me not to be sick all over Margie’s floorboard. I opted to skip breakfast because of this, and I could already feel the toll. As unladylike as it would be, I began plotting getting my slender fingers around a double-cheeseburger deluxe the second we were out of there.

Margie checked me in promptly at ten and spent the next few minutes chatting with the overworked receptionist. She was kind of attractive, for an older woman, with silky brown hair in a short bob, wearing a conservative cream top and slacks.

The last time I had to sit in a waiting room was because my mom was in surgery for hours. I tried to lose myself in one of the old magazines strewn about the table in front of me while Margie filled out some sort of chart or other, but I just couldn’t focus, so I set it aside and began fidgeting with the hem of my skirt. Something about hospitals and clinics now made me feel unbelievably uncomfortable.

“Well aren’t you a pretty thing?” An older woman with graying black hair smiled down at me. I looked up at her, offering a nervous smile. “Thank you ma’am.”

“So polite, too. I wish my granddaughter was more like you!” She grinned, and I felt Margie squeeze my hand, as if to say ‘See?’ as the woman continued out. A moment later, I suddenly wanted to sink into the chair and disappear.

“Robert Smith?” An older male voice called from the doorway. He looked right past me several times before I finally, slowly raised my hand. I glanced at Margie, who shot him an icy glare.

She whispered to me, “I signed you in as Robin, I swear.”

I reluctantly stood as Margie approached the man. He looked an anachronism in this modern office, dressed in a three-piece suit and tie that I was sure had to be as old as its style suggested by all the lint. Had he never heard of dry-cleaning?

“Actually, I’d like to speak with Robert alone,” he admonished my sister in what I decided was not a neutral tone. She frowned. No, she glowered, as she returned to her chair, and I found myself being led into an adjoining hall, to a small office. The office it seemed fit the man. An old desk with a high-backed chair across from a much shorter leather chair on the other side dominated the room.

“Have a seat, Robert.” It wasn’t a suggestion. I reluctantly seated myself, trying as best I could to situate myself with the unbelievably uncomfortable chair: how I wish I'd worn jeans!

The hard old leather kept causing my skirt to ride up uncomfortably. He had by now sat across from me, staring down at me and my discomfort with mild irritation.

“There’s no need for that. You don’t have to put on a show for me, Robert.”

What was he talking about? I wasn’t putting on a show. I was genuinely uncomfortable and growing more so by the minute.

“I don’t know what you mean, sir. And can you please call me Robin?” I asked softly. I was already furious with him for embarrassing me in front of everyone out in the waiting room like that, but mistakenly decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“I’ve studied children like you before, Robert, and I believe that there is usually a root cause for this sort of acting out. Tell me about your father.” Again, it wasn’t a suggestion.

I heaved a sigh, and told him about how my dad had divorced Mom when I was little, and I never saw him again. For his part, he just nodded, stroking his neatly trimmed whiskers. When I finished, he sat forward, picking up a pen and a notepad and jotting something.

“Mmhmm. And how long have you been dressing like this, Robert?”

“Since I was four or five I guess.”

“Robert, you don’t have any brothers, do you?”

I shook my head.

“So it’s just your sister and mother then. Have they ever sexually abused you?”

At this point, I had had enough. I stood up, but he scowled. “Young man, please sit down and answer my question.” He sat his notepad down, staring me down as though I were a charging bull.

I meekly sat again, and shook my head.

“Well, it is my professional opinion that you obviously are lacking a positive male role model in your life, causing you to seek compensation by emulating your mother and your sister. I strongly suspect your sister had a hand in dressing you up like this.”

That was all I could stand.

“Now wait just a minute!”

“Young man, calm down.” He snapped.

“No! I’ve sat here and listened to you berate me and my family from the start. You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said. My mother’s lying in a hospital bed on the other side of the country right now, possibly dying and all you can do is insult the two people who’ve been nothing but nice to me!”

He opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted him again, “Look, this is nobody’s ‘fault’. Nobody forced me to do this. Nobody’s ever abused me, and I refuse to listen to you try and accuse me or anyone else otherwise. I’m leaving!”

I stood up to storm out, furious. I probably overreacted, but everything had built up, and his embarrassing me in front of a waiting room full of patients, then acting like my poor mother had something to do with this when she didn’t even know, was just too much for me to handle.

He stood to stop me, but I stormed right past him very nearly stomping his foot as I went, and slamming the door behind me. He came running up behind me as I burst into the waiting room sobbing.

Margie tossed her magazine aside as she stood and threw her arms around me.

He started to speak, but looking between my furious sister, the scowling receptionist, and a little boy whose mother promptly grabbed his hand and led him out after the way the doctor had burst in after me, he threw up his hands and slunk out of the room in defeat.

As we stood waiting for the elevator, the receptionist approached us. I immediately moved closer to my sister, letting her put her arms around me protectively, but the other woman held up her hands in a gesture of peace.

“I just wanted to apologize on Doctor Rosen’s behalf. You won’t be charged for the session since it was so short.” I kind of felt insulted by that comment.

“How can someone like him still be allowed to practice?” I squeaked out, trying my best not to start sobbing again.

The receptionist didn’t answer, but she did offer a sympathetic smile. “You do look very pretty.” She offered, turning to walk away.

As we stepped into the elevator, Margie pressed ‘one’, then stood behind me, squeezing my shoulders. “She wasn’t lying about that part, you know. She couldn’t believe you were the ‘cross-dressing boy’ the doctor had mentioned to expect, to use her words.”

I turned around, burying myself in her hug. “Is that what I am? Margie, I don’t want to go back to being Robert again!” I couldn’t believe I just said that out loud. Even if it was what I had been thinking ever since Allison first dragged me off into her wonderful little Wonderland.

I didn’t mention the part about him insulting her or Mom. I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly, and felt more than a little embarrassed by my behavior too, but he started it!

She smiled as she stroked my hair. The whirr of the elevator was the only sound for a long, awkward moment prior to the doors opening, and the older woman that complimented me earlier stepped inside.

She immediately turned her gaze toward me, offering a positively grandmother-like smile. I never knew my grandparents on either side of my family, but if I had, I’d have hoped they had this woman’s demeanor.

“Whatever is the matter dear?” She asked, placing her hand gently on my back. I looked up at her hesitantly. Maybe it was her caring smile, or the fact that she reminded me of Doctor Brown, but I swallowed my pride and proceeded to explain how the extremely short session had gone.

Margie looked like she was ready to go back up there and punch his lights out when I mentioned that he thought Mom, and then she, were doing this to me.

The older woman sighed, shaking her head. “That man…” I wondered if they had some sort of pre-existing relationship. Perhaps she worked here? She glanced between the two of us briefly then offered her hand.

“I apologize for not introducing myself sooner. My name is Barbara Ketzowski - Doctor Ketz to my patients. And if you hadn’t told me you weren’t a girl, I’d never believe it.”

I reluctantly took her hand, as the elevator doors opened onto the first floor. She glanced at the open door, then at Margie and me, stepping out as we did.

“This is highly unorthodox, but I’ve had a patient cancel his appointment today. Unlike Philip, I treat cases of gender identity on a case by case basis if you’d like to try this again?

"I can assure you I will have a very stern word with my colleague later, in any event, and I will completely understand if you don’t want to, but I would like to help if I can.”

I looked to Margie, who just shook her head, offering in what I guessed was, under the circumstances, her best attempt at neutral. She resonated concern and unease, echoing my own feelings. “This is your decision, Robin. I can’t make it for you.”

She was right. I had to choose whether to trust this complete stranger, especially after what had just happened. It could have been worse, at least.

I’d had a fitful night of terrible dreams involving being forced into being Robert again through various means, each more terrifying than the previous, and dealing with Doctor Rosen had caused a great deal of those fears to resurface.

‘I did,’ I thought, ‘overreact, but then, so did he.’ On the other hand, Doctor Ketz seemed genuinely interested in talking and she certainly seemed nice enough.

Finally, I heaved a slow sigh. “What’ve I got to lose?” I felt Margie squeeze my hand as Doctor Ketz smiled.

“That’s the spirit. Now, Robin was it? As I said these are unusual circumstances, so how about we do this? Why don’t we go back to my office and talk for awhile. Call it an evaluation period. If you think you’d like to see me on a regular basis after that, then we can see about scheduling something more permanent for you.”

I liked her already. The way she phrased it made it sound like this was completely optional, like I had a say in things, which immediately made me feel better.

I gave her a small smile and nodded, and a few moments later we were back on the elevator. Thankfully Doctor Ketz’ office was on a different floor from Doctor Rosen’s. As far as I was concerned, I never wanted to see that grouchy old man again.

“I didn’t catch your name, by the way?” She turned to Margie as I pressed myself against the back wall. I was beginning to hate elevators.

I hadn’t eaten yet, and between the encounter with Doctor Rosen and the motion, I was feeling nauseous. At least, I HOPED it was that. Doctor Brown’s advisement echoed in my mind, and I became consciously aware. The elevator couldn’t move fast enough!

“Margie Evans.” My sister began as she offered her hand. “I’m Robin’s half-sister. Same father, different mother, but I love her with all my heart.”

Doctor Ketz smiled at that, and as the elevator doors opened, I quickly but politely rushed off the elevator. I leaned against the wall, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

“Are you alright Robin?” Doctor Ketz asked with concern.

I nodded, “I think so. I just felt nauseous for a second there. Normally I wouldn’t worry but I fell a couple of days ago, so I’ve been advised to watch for those things.”

Margie quickly moved to my side, adding, “Is it just nausea or something else?”

After a moment or two, I finally nodded, speaking in a relieved tone, “I’m okay now. I think it was just the elevator on top of everything else. I was already a nervous wreck this morning, then meeting Doctor Rosen,” I trailed off, frowning.

“I’m sorry about what happened back there. It’s just I’m really touchy about Mom, and he humiliated me in front of all those people when he called me ‘Robert’.”

Doctor Ketz frowned, but didn’t say anything. Not yet anyway. She led Margie and me past a waiting area to a much larger office with more modern furnishings. A stately oak desk dominated one corner of the room, but this time both the office chair and the set of leather chairs across from it were more evenly set.

To my surprise, Barbara only retrieved a notepad and pencil from her desk before motioning for us to follow her to the other side of the room, where a large sofa and chairs were arranged facing one another.

I smoothed my skirt as I sat down on the sofa, half-expecting another uncomfortable time ahead, with Margie sitting beside me and placing an arm around me supportively. To my surprise, it was actually quite comfy.

I leaned into her for a moment, but couldn’t help taking note that Doctor Ketz had already started writing. This didn’t sit well with me for some reason, but at least she hadn’t said anything to make me feel uneasy yet.

“Now, Robin, before we get started, is there anything you’d like to talk about?”

I looked at Margie, who just gave me a reassuring smile. There were so many things I wanted to talk about, but I couldn’t find the words.

I felt like a turtle at a zoo that had just been poked in the face with a sharp stick. I wanted to hide in my shell and stay there.

She seemed to sense my reluctance, breaking the awkward silence, “Well, I’m going to start by asking a few questions. I want you to answer as honestly as possible. I’m not here to judge, alright?”

I nodded and began fidgeting with my skirt again.

“Robin, tell me about your home life? Do you live with your sister or your parents?”

“It’s complicated. I’m living with Margie temporarily because my mom’s in the hospital, and dad … Well, he died years ago.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She offered, putting down her pencil for a moment as she locked her gaze onto my face, offering a genuinely sympathetic smile. “Tell me about your mother. Why is she in the hospital?”

That question surprised me. I guess I was expecting to be grilled about my dressing right from the start again. I explained everything, in as much detail as I could manage without breaking down, about how the past week had transpired for me.

I wanted to stop just after the part about the accident, but she’d waved a juicy carrot in front of the turtle’s nose now. I wanted to say as much as I could before the urge to hide in my shell returned.

Doctor Ketz nodded as she listened. When I had finished, she tilted her head in thought for a moment then responded, “And you said your father passed away. How old were you when he died?”

“I guess I was seven.” I turned to Margie. “Wasn’t it right before you went to college?”

Margie nodded. “Yeah. He was working in the oil fields, and there was an accident with some heavy machinery. He was never father of the year material, but he had a really big insurance policy that he left us.”

I wondered why Margie felt compelled to mention that part. I guessed she just needed to defend the guy considering he abandoned her as well.

“I see. So he wasn’t around before that point, then?”

We both nodded in unison, and I spoke up this time, “Not since I was four.” Where was she going with this? I started to squirm a little. I just knew she was going to play the blame game.

“How long have you been dressing in girls’ clothes, Robin?” She asked in a gentle tone. She had by now picked up her pencil again. I tried not to notice, turning my focus on a weird framed ink blot on the far wall.

“Um, for as long as I can remember, I’ve snuck around trying on Mom’s things.” I proceeded to relate to her how I used to play dress-up when mom wasn’t home, when I thought I could get away with it, and how on several occasions I’d had close-calls with almost being caught by Margie when she’d babysit.

Margie sat in stunned silence as she listened.

“And you never suspected anything?” Doctor Ketz turned her attention to Margie now.

Margie bit her lip, squeezing me gently, “Kind of. I mean, I’ve always known she was a little different from most boys, and,” she hesitated, turning to me.

“Linda told me she suspected you were hiding something, sweetie, but she didn’t want to push you away any more than her schedule already did. She’d planned to ask if you wanted to come stay with me for awhile so you could have someone more readily available that you could trust.”

“Her schedule?” Barbara asked gently. Margie nodded.

“Linda is a nurse at Crisis Medical back in San Francisco. I babysat for Robin a lot when she was little because Linda was working full-time plus taking night classes. She only wanted what was best for her though.”

Barbara nodded, “I understand. Please continue.”

I held up a hand for Margie to wait, and both women turned their gaze to me.

“So… Mom knew?”

“She knew something was bothering you pretty deeply. She thought that coming out to Alpine Springs for a few weeks would do you some good to just get away for awhile. If she knew what, specifically, it was, she didn’t say, but in retrospect sweetie, I can kind of see it now.”

I nodded softly to indicate that that was all I wanted to know, and waited for her to continue.

“Anyway, when I came home that first day, Carol Jones, my next door neighbor, came over to talk to me. She told me how her daughter Allison had brought ‘my sister’ over.

"It would’ve been a little awkward since I’d told Carol my brother might be coming to stay for the summer with me, except that Carol’s eldest daughter whom I went to college with, is also like Robin, only she fully transitioned when she turned eighteen.”

I smiled a little, “Margie and Kelly, Allison’s sister, went to college together, and I think Mom might’ve had a hand in getting her in on the hospital’s transition certification thing.”

Margie gave a confirming nod. “Joe, Kelly’s dad, helped me get my clothing business off the ground by cosigning on a small business loan last year, so it was the least I could do to ask Linda if she’d help Kelly out in return.”

Barbara nodded slowly as she sat back in her chair. She glanced between the two of us for a moment. “Tell me about your life growing up, Robin. You said your sister went off to college when you were seven, but what about before that?”

“Before that? Margie was like a second mom. I mean, she was so much more than just a babysitter, and sometimes more than just a sister.”

“How so?”

“Well, I mean, like, we had little rituals that meant a lot to me. After bath time, the same time every night, she’d either pop some popcorn or pour us a bowl of chips or something, and we’d watch a movie together, then we’d play a couple of rounds of some board game or other before she tucked me in.”

“Beauty and the Beast, usually,” Margie added, causing me to blush a few shades of red as I smiled, offering a confirming nod.

She gave me a playful squeeze. “Hey, I enjoyed it too. It’s like I told Allison the other day, you’ve always sort of been my awesome baby sister. I just never fully realized it until now.”

“I’d like to touch on your mother’s accident again for just a moment. Do you feel comfortable talking about it?”

“I guess so,” I responded uneasily. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, let’s start with her condition. It must be serious for you to just uproot and move across the country like this?” Her tone was very gentle, despite the probing question. She was getting at something though.

I nodded softly, “The accident left her in a coma. The doctors did what they could to save her life, but they said she could be out for awhile.”

“I see. Robin, did they tell you how severe her injuries were?”

I reclined my head back slightly, closing my eyes as I tried to replay my brief conversation with Kelly, then turned to Margie. “I’m sorry, I never really asked. Margie, you talked to her doctors didn’t you?”

Margie gave me a hesitant nod. “It’s pretty bad. She was still in critical condition even after coming out of surgery. They wanted to wait until they got her stabilized before performing any serious tests.”

Doctor Ketz nodded silently.

“She’s going to be okay. I know she is. She has to be,” I said softly.

“How did it happen?”

Margie picked up this line of questioning as well. “She fell asleep at the wheel. She was wearing her seatbelt, but something …” Margie trailed off.

Doctor Ketz reached over to hand her a tissue, which she promptly accepted, dabbing at her eyes. Margie wasn’t my mom’s daughter, but they were close friends because of me. It never occurred to me how much this must have hurt for her too.

“I’m sorry,” she offered, then glanced at me, “Robin, I don’t know if you want to hear this or not. You can step out for a second if you want?”

I shook my head. “No, I-I wanna know what happened.”

She breathed a slow sigh, nodding. “When I spoke to her doctors, they told me that something in her car, possibly even part of the steering wheel, but they were waiting for the investigative report to be filed to be sure, broke loose and struck her.

"She drove one of those little older model compact cars, and when it hit the tree it crumpled like a soda can,”

I immediately cringed, burying my face in her shoulder. “I really wish I hadn’t asked that. But she IS going to be okay right?” Silence. “… Right?!”

Doctor Ketz leaned forward, gently placing her hand on my knee. “Robin, it’s important for you to understand that your mother’s condition is very serious, but I also don’t want you to give up hope.

"This is a traumatic experience for any young person, and you have to go through it in the middle of what may very well be a life-changing experience for you.

"If it’s alright, I’d like to change the topic for a moment, but I mean absolutely no disrespect toward your mother in doing so. Is that alright?”

I nodded meekly.

“How do you feel when you’re dressed like this, Robin? Remember to answer honestly, dear. And take your time if you need.” I couldn't help wondering if the sudden topic shift was more for my benefit, to let what we had just discussed better sink in without causing me a breakdown in the process.

I silently pondered her question. No one had ever asked me that before, though it was certainly something I gave a lot of thought. I closed my eyes, inhaled slowly, and answered.

“In a way, I don’t feel anything.”

“How so?” She responded almost immediately, but in that same gentle tone I’d come to love about her today.

“I mean, as Robert, I have trouble focusing because I’m always thinking about or wishing I could dress like and be treated as a girl. Like this, as Robin, I don’t have that constantly in the back of my mind. I feel … ‘right’, like this is how I always want to be.”

“How would you feel if you had to go back to being Robert?” That question should have sent me running right the heck out of there, but somehow, either the way she phrased it, her tone, or the fact that I was nuzzled pretty closely into Margie’s side, gave me the reassurance I needed to answer honestly.

“I don’t think I could. I’ve spent the last three days as Robin and I don’t think I would’ve made it as Robert, on top of everything else. I mean, I would probably have still gone off and gotten lost in the woods, but I wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun spending time with Allison.

"To be honest the idea of going back to being Robert already makes me physically ill.” I hesitated, biting my lip. Doctor Ketz patiently watched for me to continue.

“I wish I had been born a girl, honestly.” I couldn’t believe I just said that.

Doctor Ketz nodded indifferently and jotted something down.

Margie added a moment later, “Tell her about what happened at school, sweetheart.”

“You had trouble at school?” She injected. I nodded. I'd never told Margie, but I guessed Mom had.

“I was always the butt of people’s jokes, but one girl used me to make her ex-boyfriend jealous, and after he beat me up, “winning” her back, I got called a wimp for not fighting back.”

“Why didn’t you fight back? Remember, There is no judging here. I’m only curious.”

“I just wanted to be out of the situation and not have to deal with it anymore, but I also still cared about her enough to not want her to hate me even more for getting the other guy in trouble either. I mean, she wasn’t always like that. I guess I thought, pretty stupidly, that she might see that someday.”

“I see." She paused in thought a moment, "Did people mistake you for a girl when you were dressed as Robert?” She deflected the subject again. I wondered if she could see how uncomfortable I was with the current trail of thought.

I laughed. I genuinely laughed. “Constantly, ever since I started letting my hair grow a couple of years ago,” I said emphatically.

She chuckled, “Does that bother you?”

“It used to. I mean, it did, but it didn’t. On some level I reveled in it. What bothered me was having to pretend to be offended all the time, pretending to be ‘male’.”

“So you’re saying you liked being mistaken for a girl, even when you weren’t trying to present as one?”

I nodded.

“Let me ask you something, Robin. Are you familiar with the term gender dysphoria?”

“My friend Allison talked about it a little.”

“Hm. I see. So how much did Allison tell you?”

“Just that people with gender dysphoria are unhappy or uncomfortable with their birth sex. She said it was way over her head, but that she was okay with it.”

“That is an oversimplified definition, yes. I would like very much to continue to meet with you on a regular basis because I believe you are sincere in your desire to remain as Robin, and I strongly suspect you to be transgender. I assume that you’re familiar with the term ‘transexual’?”

I visibly cringed. I was familiar with the word, but it had a pretty bad connotation for me.

“It’s okay to be uneasy about that word. Modern media, and the attitudes of people such as Doctor Rosen do not help, but it doesn’t mean you are a bad person, or even that there’s anything wrong with you. It just means you’re a unique young lady.

“I’d like to meet with you again on a regular basis so we can discuss that further as well as helping you to cope with the trauma surrounding your mother’s accident if you feel comfortable with it. If not, I can give you a list of therapists I trust that you can cross-reference with your friend Allison’s sister, if she grew up in this area during her transition.”

I smiled as much as I could, “I’d like to meet with you again. You actually listen, and you’re easy to talk to.” I responded.

She smiled and turned a page in her notebook, but I couldn’t see what she’d written. A moment later she’d jotted something else down, tearing out the page and handing it to Margie.

“I’d like to meet this Tuesday, and again next Saturday, if at all possible. If you can’t make it, just call that number and let my secretary know. Robin, I’m going to give you my private number as well. If you ever feel the need to talk to someone, day or night, give me a call.

"I don’t normally do this for patients after just one session, but you remind me of precisely why I became a therapist.”

She smiled, handing me a separate sheet of paper with her contact information. “You said you’ve been living as Robin for a few days now. I’d like for you to continue to do so.

"You have at least one friend who knows you as Robin, and your sister supports you completely. I believe that denying this part of you would be detrimental to your mental health.”

I blinked at her. Was she serious? I practically leapt off the sofa as she stood, throwing my arms around her. “Thank you!” I was overjoyed. I could continue being Robin, and what’s more, I had a doctor’s permission to do so!

When we left the doctor’s offices to find something to eat, I couldn’t help but find a new, small spring in my step. Doctor Ketz had made me painfully aware of Mom’s condition, and Doctor Rosen was a grade-A jerk of the worst caliber of closed-minded quack, as far as I was concerned, but Doctor Ketz herself seemed an angel sent from Heaven.

As I sat in the car, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed.

“Hello?” Allison answered. Thank God she was home.

“Hey Ally,” I tried to sound cheerful. I mean, I had incredible news to share, “Guess what?”

“Oh, hey Robin! What’s up?”

“I get to continue being Robin - doctor’s orders!”

She squealed. “That’s great! Hey, are you on your way back? I’ve got someone who wants to talk to you here.”

“Margie’s taking me shopping, but I should be back this afternoon. Is Kelly there?”

“You are so lucky. Do me a favor?” She asked in the sweetest tone she could muster. I knew she was up to something.

“Um, I’ll try?”

She giggled, “You’d better. If you go to the mall, look for a place called Claire’s. TRUST me, you’ll thank me later!”

“Claire’s?” I responded. Margie’s eyes lit up as she looked at me.

“Um, Ally? I think I’ve gotta go. Margie’s grinning like a fiend and I’m starting to get scared.”

“Heehee! Have fun! To answer your question, Kelly says ‘Hi’. She made me promise not to say anything else though.” I could hear someone giving raspberries in the background, and couldn’t help laughing to myself as I pressed the ‘End’ button on my phone.

As we sat at the traffic light, I couldn’t help but wonder why Allison’s sister wouldn’t let her say anything else. Was it news about Mom? I resolved not to try and get Kelly on the phone though.

I knew how close I came to losing it in Doctor Ketz’ office, when Margie explained just how serious things were. I did not need to have another breakdown if something was wrong.

What was a Claire’s, though? The name sounded familiar somehow.

* * *
Chapter 8 - Enter Nicole
* * *
Shopping as a girl, especially with my big sister picking up the tab, was an experience like nothing else. I felt incredibly self-conscious initially. Even if I was dressed as a girl and apparently passing well, I still had trouble getting past the notion of a boy in a dress in the girls’ department, trying on clothes.

It was different when it was just a small group of people like at home or the doctor’s, but this was a very public place, and what’s more, I could still hear Doctor Rosen’s stern voice deflecting Margie, insisting he ‘Speak with Robert alone’.

An older girl — I’d guess about seventeen pretty handily shattered my reluctance as I came out of the dressing room to get Margie’s opinion on a pale pink three-quarter sleeve top.

“Oh wow! That is really pretty! Where on earth did you find that top?”

I giggled, pointing to the nearby rack. “Over there. Does it look okay? I had to wear this skirt for my doctor’s appointment so it’s hard to tell.”

“It looks totally fab. Actually it compliments your skirt nicely. It’s a little conservative, but it’s still cute,” she spoke as she searched through the clothing rack.

“Score! It’s in my size too!” She excitedly bounded into the other changing room, leaving me a little bewildered, but feeling a lot better about myself.

Several stores, and several shopping bags later, we arrived at our last stop, the elusive Claire’s. I had no words! They had everything a teen girl could ever want and more.

As I perused the hair accessories, I suddenly felt as though someone was standing behind me. I turned find an older girl — a senior I guessed, smiling warmly at me. Her pretty blue eyes sparkled, and her rich chestnut hair was cut in a shoulder-length summer style that framed her face perfectly.

“Finding everything okay?” She asked. I gave her a nervous smile as I nodded, “My friend Ally told me I should come check this place out. I… um… I’m sort of coming out of a tomboy phase?” I lied. Well, I half-lied.

I could see that the gears in her head were turning as she grinned. “Ohhh, so that’s why you’re not pierced, huh?”

I blinked at her. “Pierced?”

“Your ears, silly! Most girls at least get the lobes done by now. My cousin has two sets plus uppers,” She motioned to a point on the upper part of her ear, “But there’s a limit to what I’ll do in the name of fashion.” She laughed.

“You know we are doing a special today. If you spend twenty dollars I can pierce them for free.”

I looked down at the small hand basket holding bracelets, rings, hair pins and scrunchies. I had already easily spent thirty.

“I’ll have to ask my sister.” I said, trying my best to sound like I expected Margie to say no, when the truth was, I just wasn’t sure if I was ready for this yet.

“Tall redhead with the cute dark blue top and skinny jeans?” She asked. I nodded. “She asked me to come see if you were interested, actually.”

She what? Well, to my sister’s credit, she wasn’t forcing this on me the way Doctor Rosen seemed to believe. She was, however, facilitating. There’s a huge difference!

“Does it hurt?”

“A little, but it’s not nearly as bad as it sounds. The trick is to not watch. If you don’t see it coming, and if you can just force yourself to think about something else, it’ll be over before you know it. They will be tender for a couple of weeks so you have to be careful doing your hair, though.”

I finally gave an uneasy nod. “Okay, you talked me into it.”

“Great!” She smiled and took my free hand, leading me to another part of the store where she had me sit.

“With the gun we’ll start with a simple stud because it’s just easier. The cousin I mentioned does needle piercing, but this is perfectly safe for your lobes. Anyway, after a couple of weeks your holes should be healed and you can be more daring: hoops and dangles.” Clearly, she was enjoying this. I was too, to tell the truth.

“So, do you want a birthstone set, or something simple?”

“Birthstone would be neat. My birthday’s in February if that helps?” I offered.

“Amethyst. You’re so lucky! My birthday is in August. Whoever picked the gemstones must’ve hated August because it’s a really boring pale green. Now, close your eyes. I love your outfit by the way.”

I closed my eyes, and blushed at the compliment, at least until I felt a sharp stabbing in my right ear. I flinched, biting my tongue to keep from complaining. After another sharp stab, she declared, “Done!”

I opened my eyes again to find a small mirror held up to my face. My new amethyst-tipped studs seemed to sparkle in the store’s light. I smiled brightly and hugged her. She seemed surprised by the sudden hug, but patted my back.

“You’re, uh, welcome. Glad you like them. Here, take this too.” She placed a small bottle along with a folded piece of paper in my hand.

“Cleaning instructions and stuff to keep them from getting infected: just follow the directions and you’ll be fine. My mom made me use a sea salt solution on mine once a day too, but the solution should be enough”

“Oh those are adorable,” Margie commented as she came over. “All set?”

I nodded, holding up my basket. “Yeah. I found the cutest jelly bracelet and tons of other cool stuff to try out on my hair.”

Margie grinned as the sales girl rang up everything. As we were leaving Claire’s behind, I noticed her carrying a small shopping bag she didn’t have before “So, you did some shopping without me, hmm?” By now I was feeling a little more at ease in my feminine role, and even a little playful.

Margie laughed, “I was hoping you’d say yes to getting your ears done so I could sneak away and get something for you.” She stopped, turning to face me as she reached into the bag, producing a cute little black faux-leather purse.

“Oh Margie, I love it!” I immediately tossed it over my shoulder. Something rattled inside, so I opened it up and took a peek, to discover she’d apparently had time to toss in a few things, including a wallet, a few dollars in assorted change, a brand new makeup compact, and the tube of lip gloss from this morning.

“Just a few essentials. You’re going to need to start carrying that around with you from now on. Don’t leave it anywhere, and don’t lose it. Your purse is your life.” She advised in a serious tone. I just smiled and hugged her again. It was weird getting this kind of advice from her, but I certainly welcomed it!

We continued out to the parking lot, arriving at her car with our latest round of conquests. All told, thanks to a ‘Beginning of Summer’ mall-wide sale I came away with several new tops and blouses, skirts, jeans, casual dresses, and two more formal dresses ‘just in case’, several pairs of shoes, and now a new all-occasions purse!

We also got me some new underwear as well as padded bras to fill out my clothes better. It was nothing fancy, really, just another bump in the road to becoming a more believable girl. We had already stayed in New Haven past noon, so since we’d already gotten a bite to eat before the shopping extravaganza we decided to start heading back home.

As we pulled into the driveway, Allison came out to meet us. An unfamiliar cherry red Ford Focus sat on the street in front of the Jones’ house. I presumed it to be Allison’s sister’s, or at least a weekend rental.

“Jeeze girl. When you go shopping, you REALLY go shopping don’t you?” She commented as Margie and I began unloading packages and bags.

“Margie says my wardrobe was painfully limited.” I thought Allison’s jaw was going to fall right off her face when I turned to face her.

“OHMYGOD you got your ears pierced!” She squealed as she hugged me, causing me to nearly drop my shopping bags. I just sort of gave her a lopsided grin and nodded.

“You just had to mention Claire’s.”

Both she and Margie giggled, as they helped me carry everything inside. I had just carried the last of my new things up to my room when someone knocked at the door downstairs.

I ran downstairs to see who it was, with Allison right behind me, grinning like a shark. Margie had just opened the door as I hit the bottom step.

“Hi Margie!” Kelly exclaimed as she hugged my sister. Kelly smiled at me as she moved closer, putting her hands on my shoulders.

“It’s good to see you again, and smiling for a change! “ She said in a disarming, gentle tone then added a moment later, “Hey! Those are new!”

As she admired my new ear accessories, I just sort of smiled at her. It took actually, physically seeing Kelly for me to finally understand what everyone had been telling me. Tears rolled down my cheeks, completely ruining my makeup as I hugged her.

“Oh Kelly, I’m so glad to see you!” I started, sobbing intermittently.

She gave me a concerned look as she put her arms around me, and Margie motioned towards the living room. “Why don’t you three go sit down and I’ll make us some tea.”

Allison just nodded, as she followed Kelly, who guided me into the living room. As they sat and listened, I told them about my encounter that morning with Doctor Rosen, and the way he had treated me.

I could see the disgust on Kelly’s face. One fist was clenched, and Allison was positively scowling.

“How can someone like that still be allowed to practice?” Kelly finally snarled.

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Allison added a moment later.

“He actually thought Margie and Mom were responsible for all this. Margie didn’t even KNOW about this until you caught me the other day, Ally. Momma might have known, but if she did she never said anything. And he humiliated me in front of all those people.” I trailed off, heaving a sigh as I buried myself in Kelly’s shoulder.

Allison shook her head slowly. “Even if they had put you up to this, that’s no reason to treat you like that!” Allison seemed to be more upset than I was about the ordeal, though I at least had my time with Doctor. Ketz, plus shopping, to ease the pain.

“I can give you the names of several good therapists in New Haven if you want, Robin. I swear to you they’re not all like that crazy old man,” Kelly added. I smiled as I nodded.

“Thank you, but I have someone. We bumped into Doctor Ketzowski on our way out. She saw I was upset, and asked me what was wrong, and when I told her about Doctor Rosen, she promised to ‘have a stern word’ with him later.”

Allison and Kelly looked at each other and giggled. The elder sister grinned, “That’s code for ‘someone’s in for an ass-chewing of a lifetime’. I’ve seen it around Crisis Medical a few times. It’s not pretty.”

“Speaking of Crisis Medical, how’s Mom?”

Kelly visibly flinched. I guessed she knew this one was coming. She took my hand between hers before responding, “I’m afraid there hasn’t been any change in her condition yet. It’s too early to give up hope, though. It’s only been a couple of days.”

“What about the tests? She’s got to be stable enough for them right?”

Kelly nodded, “Only just. It’s been touch and go. Robin, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy, let alone my little sister’s new best friend — or my best friend’s little sister for that matter.”

Allison moved around to my other side and put an arm around me. “Robin, I’m so sorry. If there’s anything we can do…”

I just shook my head, offering them both a small smile as Margie returned carrying a battered old tin TV tray with three glasses of peach iced tea, and one steaming mug of herbal tea that she handed off to me.

“No caffeine for you, young lady. You’ve had a stressful enough day.” She teased, while passing out drinks, then took a seat on one of the nearby chairs.

“So what did Doctor Ketzo-whatever-it-was say?” Kelly asked, before practically inhaling a long, slow sip from her glass.

I giggled a little, breaking the somber mood that had taken hold of the conversation a moment ago. “Doctor Ketz said she thinks I’m gender dysphoric, and she wants to meet with me again. In the meantime I’m to continue living as Robin, as though anyone could stop me at this point.”

“Good for you,” Kelly replied with a knowing smile. “Once I started living as Kelly, there was no turning back. I won't lie to you Robin. I ... was ready to kill myself before I’d ever go back. It’s a scary place to be, and you have to understand this above all else; whatever path you ultimately choose, you have to do what YOU feel is right.”

I nestled back into the sofa, sipping my tea. I wasn’t sure how to respond. Everything was happening so fast.

“Everything is happening so fast.” I finally echoed my inner dialogue.

“I’ll bet. It’s not every day a girl finds herself and gets to be herself over the course of two days. A lot of girls like us never get that chance.” Kelly’s tone was softer now. I shifted my posture to try and read between the lines in what she meant, but she abruptly changed the subject.

“So how is the store?”

“Slow, but we’re starting to turn a profit with the new summer fashions. How’s your certification coming?” Margie replied.

Before Kelly could answer, there was another knock at the door. Margie glanced over at the three of us, and Allison and Kelly shrugged in unison. Whoever it was, they weren’t expecting anyone.

“I’ll get it.” I offered, setting my mug down and untangling myself from the other two. Don’t get me wrong, I was enjoying being so close to Kelly and Allison. They were both so unbelievably supportive, but the day had been hard on Margie too.

The whole week had been hard on her. Not only did she have to deal with everything that had happened too, but she had been trying to protect me from the truth. It was her time to relax for a minute.

Now, I had never really been into Goth girls, but I was about to have my mind changed for me on that matter, as standing on the front porch was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. Allison was attractive, but this girl left me stunned silent.

She stood a few inches taller than me, with raven hair to her shoulder. Her front bangs were dyed fuscia, and I found myself completely lost in her beautiful brown eyes, lined in just enough eyeliner at the edges to be noticeable against her pale skin, to say nothing of the perfectly applied plum lipstick, or the lace-for-spaghetti-straps black tank top that could have been tailor-made the way it clung to her figure.

“So you’re the reason I haven’t heard from Ally in like, three days.” She spoke with a soft, faint touch of Louisiana brogue that shook me from my reverie, and a sarcastic tone that made me want to shrink back.

I think she sensed my unease though because she immediately offered her hand, and an awkward smile, “Relax. I was only kidding. I’m Nicole. Mrs. Jones said Ally was here. I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

“Um… Robin.” I managed, trying to regain my composure and failing miserably. She gave me an odd sort of glance as I accepted her offered hand.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Robin.” She replied.

“Nikki!” Nicole’s black stiletto boots had no sooner touched the hardwood than we heard Allison squeal as she barreled into the foyer from the living room. I thought she was going to tackle the poor girl, but she stopped short, settling for a hug instead. Nicole returned the hug with decidedly practiced neutrality.

“Ah, and there she is.” Nicole mused. “I was just telling your new girlfriend here how I hadn’t heard from you in days. I was wondering if I should send a search party.”

Allison and I looked at each other, and I began to blush intensely. Nicole shifted her dark brown gaze between the two of us, and started laughing.

“Always knew my big mouth would get me in trouble someday. Hey, what you two do is your own business.”

This time, Allison blushed. “No no, it’s not like that. It’s a long story, and I need Robin’s permission to say anything more than that.” She smiled, deferring to me.

“Maybe we should go up to my room and talk? It’s not that I don’t want Margie and Kelly to hear anything, but I’ve been on my feet all day. I need to sit.”

Had Allison not told Jennifer, and by proxy Nicole that I was really a boy? Well, this could get interesting. I wanted to completely forget that part and start fresh, but if Allison felt comfortable talking about it, then I wouldn’t argue.

“Sure. I just came over to hang out for awhile.” Nicole responded in a casual tone. As we hit the top of the stairs, I stopped just outside, turning to the newcomer.

“Listen, Nicole, I need to warn you about something. My bedroom is a converted nursery which I had no hand whatsoever in decorating. You might want to shield your eyes.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Oh, please. It’s not like I’ve never been in Ally’s room before.”

Allison and I exchanged a ‘We tried to warn her’ glance, before I opened the door.

“Oh my God,” She exhaled under her breath as we entered. Shopping bags and shoe boxes were strewn about in disarray in addition to the sea of pink.

“I swear I will never say another foul word about your room again, Ally.” She said in a sober tone, Allison giggling quietly as she sat on the floor by my bed.

I sat with my knees together on top of my hand-me-down fluffy white comforter, picking up my pillow and hugging it to me briefly before kicking my borrowed sandals off, letting them flop to the floor beside Allison.

I rested my pillow just beneath my chin as my bare feet dangled off the edge of the bed, taking a moment to gather my thoughts before addressing what I thought was Allison’s desire to tell Nicole about me.

“So, Ally, you wanted to tell Nicole… I trust your judgment.” I finally admitted.

“What ARE you two going on about anyway?” Nicole insisted as she sat on the bed next to me.

For someone whom I had so vehemently pegged as a classic Goth girl a few minutes ago, she at least seemed kind of laid-back. There was something else though.

I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I’d sworn I saw her staring when she thought I wasn’t looking. I also couldn’t shake the feeling that something was bothering her, like her neutral attitude was being forced. Allison didn’t seem to notice.

“Well, Robin’s had a really tough week. Her mom’s in the hospital, in a coma, back in California so she had to come stay with her sister for a little bit. She went out for a walk to clear her head a couple of days ago, and got lost in the woods. I was on one of the search and rescue teams that found her.”

Nicole listened intently as Allison explained, nodding when she finished. For my part, I was just relieved the topic had nothing to do with what led up to my getting lost. Not yet, anyway.

“Ah-ha-ha, so that’s what the giggle fits were about. I thought … never mind.” She grinned. I tilted my head to stare at her.

“What?”

Allison laughed. “She thought we were dating. You didn’t catch that ‘new girlfriend’ crack? Nikki has a wicked sense of humor.”

“Yeah, but that’s why you love me.” She added. Meanwhile, I was turning about ten shades of red.

Nicole didn’t seem to notice, mercifully. She’d lain back on my bed with her hands behind her head, staring at my ceiling. “So anyway, I might be at camp next week, figured I’d just pop in and hang out a little. Jen said you called her about a new friend you were worried about.”

She paused, tilting her head toward me, “I guess that’s you, Robin. I know we just met and all, but Ally’s a good judge of character, sooo if you ever need to talk and she’s not around just come find me, yeah?”

I smiled a little as I nodded. “Thanks. That means a lot to me. It really does. I’m still getting used to the idea of having friends I can trust.”

Nicole sat straight up and stared at me as though I were speaking a foreign language. “You’re joking right? I figured a cutie like you’d be Miss Popularity.”

I rolled my shoulders. I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the encounter with Doctor Whacko earlier, but I suddenly felt emboldened to respond to her comment, “And I thought you were going to bite my neck when I first opened the door.”

Allison stared up at both of us. I think she expected a nuclear war of words to follow. Nicole tilted her head and stared at me. She started laughing.

Allison giggled as she stood up, sitting on my bed and sandwiching me in a hug between the two of them. Nicole hesitantly returned the hug, giving me a good-natured pat on my shoulder afterwards. Maybe I was just imagining things, but there just seemed to be something off about her demeanor.

“Hey, Nicole,” I started. She interrupted me,

“Please! Call me Nikki. You earned it.” She smiled,

“Nikki, then, I don’t mean to impose, but is everything okay?”

She gave a blank stare in return then smiled. It looked forced. “I don’t know what you mean.” She glanced off again, “Well anyway I’ll see you two later,” she said in a much more serious tone as she got up to leave. Was she crying?

I looked at Allison, who gave me the same absolutely puzzled expression.

“Nikki, wait.” I moved to follow, catching her by the arm. She recoiled sharply at first, but slowly turned back to face us. “… Sorry. I… Yeah, no, I’m not okay.”

By now, Allison had risen as well, and moved to Nikki’s side. “What is it? You can talk to me, and believe me, you can trust Robin.”

“I can leave if you want?” I offered. Sure, this was my sister’s house, and my room, but if it would help a friend of a friend… Tears rolled down Nikki’s face as she stared at me.

“No, don’t you dare go anywhere. If anyone’s leaving it’ll be me. I didn’t want to make a big scene at my best friend’s new friend’s house.” She sighed, plopping down on the bed. I grabbed a box of tissues from my nightstand; Allison and I sandwiched her between us this time.

“I just broke up with my boyfriend, Jason. Actually the jerk broke up with my voice mail. Not even a reason, just, ‘Hey babe, uh, yeah, it’s over. So later.’” She buried her face in her hands as Allison hugged her. I squeezed her arm lightly with my left hand as I ran the other slowly over her hair to try and comfort her.

“I’m so sorry Nikki,” I offered softly.

“We were together for like, four months, and then just out of the blue like this… God I hate men!” I winced a little. That little guilty feeling began welling up all over again. Allison shot me a glance behind Nikki’s back. She knew me too well, already.

“… Hey, tonight’s your last night for a week, right?” I didn’t know what else to do. She needed to take her mind off her boyfriend dumping her, and I was supposed to be living as Robin, plus I needed to not think about these new feelings of abandonment that had been slowly developing since Doctor Ketz’ session. I had a crazy idea.

“Yeah, but I dunno if I’m going. My heart’s just not in it anymore.” She was one of those people who, when she cried, she did so quietly.

I could barely even tell she was still crying save for the fresh tears in her eyes when she looked up at me, searching my face for where I was going with my sentiment. Allison interrupted, though.

“Nikki… No, you’ve been looking forward to this for months! You can’t let him ruin this for you!” she pleaded.

Nicole shifted her gaze to Allison. She wanted to say something, but it took her a few seconds to find the words. “It’s not just about Jason, Ally,” she spoke nervously.

Allison didn’t respond, so I offered her as sincere a smile as I could muster, “My therapist wants me to stop suppressing my girlish tendencies,” I began. I tried my best to make it sound like I had just going through a phase. Technically I was. It’s just that it lasted my entire life up until recently.

“Girlish tendencies…?” She echoed, wrinkling her nose.

“She was a total tomboy.” Allison added flatly. To her credit, she managed to make Nicole laugh.

“Now that explains a lot. So anyway, what are you getting at?”

“Well,” I continued. God, what was I doing? But I couldn’t just let her give up. Why couldn’t I? I have no idea. I just couldn’t! “I’ve never had a real slumber party. Just, y’know, a girls’ night to have fun.”

“So,” she reached up to dry her eyes. Her beautiful brown gaze settled on my face, and I just wanted to melt right there. She was so pretty.

“What you’re saying is, you, me, and Allison should get together tonight, do each others’ hair and nails, watch some bad movies while screaming our heads off and giggling all night. Is that it?” When she put it like that…

“Sorry. It was a stupid idea,” I offered quietly as I glanced away.

She squeezed my hand, causing me to look back again just as she smiled. “I’d love to.”

“You really are a miracle-worker,” Allison mused with disbelief at what just happened.

“What makes you say that?” I responded, dumbfounded. Nicole answered for her, with a quiet chuckle.

“She’s been trying to get me to sleep over since we’ve been friends.”

“I’m glad I could help, I think,” I offered, unsure of exactly what to make of what just transpired myself, now.

Somehow I had singlehandedly prodded my new best friend’s old best friend to not only open up about what was bothering her, but also get her to agree to a sleepover for the first time since they’d been friends.

Deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole I fell. I hoped I’d never be able to find my way back out, either.

“We can use the den at my house. Daddy’s away on business again,” Allison emphasized the word ‘again’ with a certain dramatic flair that came with years of practice. Apparently Mr. Jones was a busy man. “So it’d just be us girls.”

“That sounds great. Plus, let’s be honest, you have the entertainment center of the freaking gods.” I added.

Nicole laughed. “Now you know where that expression, ‘Keeping up with the Joneses’ comes from.”