Maya was in a foul mood. Or, more precisely, she was doing her best to look like she was in a foul mood. Technically, Mason was the one everyone needed to see sulking. After all, Mason had just lost his spot in woodworking one of the few electives guaranteed to keep his reputation intact. Woodworking was solid, practical, and, above all, manly. It was the kind of class where splinters and sweat were expected, and few girls ever ventured. It wasn’t quite as good for his reputation as something like metalworking or a class focused on being a mechanic, both of which were offered, but Maya couldn’t face either of those, she refused to even contemplate them.

But the schedule had been thrown into chaos when an error in the application system had been discovered, and when the dust settled, woodworking as a class was full, and not everyone who had signed up for it could be accommodated. Maya, who had signed up for it mainly as a way of protecting herself from discovery, had privately dreaded the idea of spending hours sanding planks or fumbling with chisels. Still, she hadn’t expected to be shuffled out of the class without warning. Someone, she still didn’t know who, had mentioned the little sketches she sometimes scribbled in the corners of her notebook. The doodles were never meant for anyone else’s eyes, but apparently, they’d been noticed. And with that tiny slip of information, Mason had been reassigned. To art of all places.

It was far from the best news Maya had ever had, but it was also far from the worst either, art wasn’t exactly the most manly elective, but at least it wasn’t Fashion. That thought alone was enough to keep Maya’s protests from being too convincing. Maya had felt it was her duty to complain and cause a fuss about this lest she seem too happy not to be doing something more manly. Because the truth was, when she’d heard that Fashion still had seats available, her stomach had flipped in two directions at once. Interest, sharp and undeniable, had clashed with horror. She couldn’t possibly sit in a fashion classroom without her cover shattering in the first ten minutes. Her secret, the part of herself she wasn’t ready to share, would be obvious before she’d even unzipped her bag.

Truthfully, Maya was secretly delighted to be doing art instead of spending long hours bored out of her mind in woodworking. The more she thought about it, the more excited she got, so Maya did the only thing she could. She put on a scowl, muttered complaints under her breath, and tried to look like she was truly devastated about losing woodworking. Inside, though, she knew she had been lucky. One day, she promised herself, she would be ready. She would walk into a class like Fashion without fear. She would stop hiding and let the world see her for who she was. But not yet. Not today. So with all that in mind, Maya had been forced to accept Art, more than that, she had found herself secretly embracing the chance. After all, she told her jubilant self severely, Art was far more manly than a fashion course ever could be.

******************

Walking into the art room, Maya was struck first by the quiet. Not an awkward, empty quiet, but something steadier like the stillness of a millpond, steady, dependable and full of promise and expectation. It was a chill, almost meditative calm, so unlike the loud, laddish chaos she was used to enduring in other classrooms. The air smelled faintly of paint and charcoal, and that alone felt like a promise of something better. The space itself was wide and open, the desks scattered rather than lined up in strict rows. Only a few students had claimed them, sitting far apart as though distance were part of the uniform. There was no clatter of chairs scraping, no forced conversation. Instead, there was calm and focus. Heads were bent low over sketchbooks, pencils scratching faintly, or from one or two, there was the faint murmur of quiet, calm conversation shared between friends.

Maya let her eyes wander. The group was a fairly even mix of girls and boys, but beyond that, they shared little. Some wore their hair long, others short, but more than a few had boldly dyed streaks of blue, purple, or pink. They looked like the kind of people who would stab anyone who so much as mentioned football with a stick, possibly a paintbrush. For once, Maya felt like she had walked into a place where she might not be the odd one out. She slipped quietly toward the back, choosing a seat far from the front where a teacher’s eyes might linger too long. From here, she could watch without being watched. She settled in, adjusting the strap of her bag, her gaze flicking from one student to the next.

The girl next to her immediately caught her attention. She had a crop of short spiky hair dyed a vivid blue, the kind of colour that demanded confidence. She was bent over her sketchbook, drawing with a kind of fierce concentration, as if the world outside her paper didn’t exist, but Maya could see that she wore thick black eyeliner and a fears determined look. Rings glittered on her fingers, catching the light whenever her pencil moved. The girl also wore a hoodie that read “Feelings are a scam”. From the look of the girl Maya could well believe that the hoodie was not an idle boast. She didn’t glance up when Maya sat down, but there was something in the girl’s posture, a mix of defiance and ease that made Maya wonder what it would be like to live inside her skin, even for a moment. Maya felt an unexpected pull, a curiosity that edged close to envy. This girl seemed so utterly at home in herself, in this room, in the act of creating. Maya, by contrast, still felt like an intruder and was at all times on edge, in any environment, worried that she might be showing too much of the girl she was instead of the boy she was trying to be. She sat back, trying not to stare, but her eyes kept drifting sideways. The girl, whom Maya now recognised as Bethany Thorpe, found Maya’s gaze examining her and met that gaze with her own much more fiery one. Maya felt that if a stare could cut metal, then the one that Bethany had fixed upon her certainly would have. It was a powerful, heady mix of disdain, arrogance and antagonism.

Maya tried to remain unfazed by that look, though it was harder than she would ever admit. Bethany’s gaze was the sort that made you feel seen in ways you didn’t ask for, sharp, curious, and tinged with a mischief that hinted at far too many stories that might be better left untold. Maya had never met her before, not properly, but she had heard the whispers.
Bethany wasn’t just another girl at the edge of the crowd. She had a reputation, an uneven one, shifting depending on who told the story. Some said she was wild, unstable, the sort who laughed too hard at chaos. Others spoke of her as though she were a folk hero, someone who turned disorder into a weapon when the right people deserved it.

Bethany had dated Matt, one of Maya’s teammates, for a couple of months the year before. Ryan, another teammate, had gone to middle school with her and had a dozen half-believable tales. He swore she once set a trashcan on fire behind the gym. Another time, she’d sabotaged a school play with nothing more than a can of deodorant and a lighter. Ryan recounted those stories with a smirk, half-proud to have, at the time, been in the orbit of someone so legendary.
But the thing was, most of those tales, once you peeled back the bravado, ended up sounding less like pure destruction and more like justice. The school production, for example, hadn’t been random vandalism at all. The teacher in charge had been cruel, mocking and belittling younger students. Bethany, who was only a couple of grades above them, had taken that cruelty personally. Her solution was drastic, yes, but also deliberate and decisive, she made sure the play collapsed before it could become another stage for the teacher’s meanness. Reckless, perhaps. Unfair and unilateral, definitely. Malicious? Not exactly.

Maya remembered Matt’s words about her, tossed out during one of those late practices when everyone was too tired to filter themselves. He had grinned, eyes glazed with pride, lust, infatuation or exasperation. Maya couldn’t tell which and said, “She’s still a little deranged, you know. Like, fun-deranged. But don’t stay around her too long unless you like chaos.”
Then he’d gone off on that bizarre tangent about “grippy socks, grippy…” laughing like a maniac while the rest of the boys howled along. Maya had shuddered at the sheer stupidity and masculinity of those words, the way boys revelled in their own nonsense. It wasn’t just immaturity, it was insecurity dressed up as comedy, and Maya could barely stand the memory of it.

Yet one thing Matt had said stuck with her, “Bethany’s art is legit.” That, Maya, was prepared to believe without question. Every whisper about Bethany’s work painted it as extraordinarily strange but brilliant, with a kind of rawness that made even teachers insist she was destined for some prestigious art school on the East Coast. That reputation carried weight, a counterbalance to all the chaos in her stories.

And so, Maya sat there, facing Bethany’s knowing look, trying to quiet the shiver that threatened to betray her. The rumours had prepared her for a lunatic, a pyromaniac, a chaos agent. Now she wasn’t sure what to expect.
“Not much of a talker,” Maya ventured, more out of politeness than any real desire to start a conversation.
“Nope.” Bethany didn’t even look up. Her pencil moved across the page with quick, precise strokes, as if the world around her barely existed. The scratch of graphite was her only answer, and it said more about her focus than words ever could.
Before Maya could decide whether to try again, Mrs Williams swept into the room in a gust of perfume and jangling bracelets. She was late, of course, teachers always were, but the kind of late that seemed less like forgetfulness and more like ritual. Without pausing to catch her breath, she launched into action, clapping her hands and bustling down the rows with a stack of identical, school-issued sketchbooks.
“Here you go, here you go, fresh pages, fresh possibilities! Remember, art is about finding your truth!” she trilled, her smile too wide for the hour of the morning.
Maya accepted her sketchbook with a mumbled thanks, already suppressing a sigh. Mrs Williams, it turned out, had an uncanny ability to fill silence with words, and not the good kind. The moment the sketchbooks were all handed out, she dove headfirst into a lecture that felt less like teaching and more like a manifesto no one had asked for.
“Art must have emotional pull,” she said, pacing at the front. “Without truth in art, you may as well be copying photographs! Art is as much about skill as it is about baring your soul!”
Maya’s eyes glazed. She tried, she really did, to keep her attention from drifting. But it was like trying to hold onto water; every phrase Mrs Williams lobbed at them slipped through her grasp. Emotional pull. Truth in art. Soul-baring. And through it all, Mrs Williams droning voice was too much. What does she think we are, Maya thought miserably, tortured poets? We’re just tired teenagers who had to drag ourselves out of bed this morning.
Bethany, unsurprisingly, didn’t react at all. She just kept sketching, her pencil whispering steadily against the page like she had already tuned Mrs Williams out from the moment she’d arrived. Maya wondered, fleetingly, if that was a skill she could learn. Finally, mercifully, the lecture wound down. Mrs Williams clapped her hands again and gestured toward the table at the front, where a sad arrangement of fruit, a ceramic vase with a wilted sunflower in it, and a limp sprig of greenery sat under the harsh classroom lights.
“Your first assignment!” she declared. “A still life. Capture it as you see it, but remember make it true.”
Maya almost laughed at the absurdity, but bit her tongue. Instead, she cracked open her sketchbook, staring down at the blank page and reminded herself not for the first nor the last time that no matter what, this was a million times better than woodworking ever could have been. Around her, pencils began to scratch, erasers squeaked faintly, and the room settled into the kind of uneasy quiet that comes when everyone pretends to take something seriously. She let out a slow breath, telling herself she would at least try. Still life. Flower. Vase. Truth. Whatever that meant.

The sunflower lay limply in its chipped vase, its yellow head turned to brittle brown, bowing under its own weight. Once, the vase had been ornate, with yellow flowers ringed around the rim and base, painted patterns curling like vines. But time had battered it down, left it scarred and chipped, until it was only a relic, a cast-off destined for classrooms like this one.
Maya sketched quietly, pencil tracing out every crack in the ceramic, every bent petal. There was something about the dreary combination of wilted flower, broken vase that mirrored the way she felt most mornings, worn thin, surviving on habit. After a while, Bethany leaned over just enough to glance at her page. She gave a small, approving nod.
“That flower’s seen better days,” she murmured, lips quirking. “God knows where Mrs Williams dug it up. But hey, so have we all.”
Maya paused, her pencil still mid-line, then said softly, “Guess we’re all faking it, then.” She meant it as a conspiratorial whisper, something shared between them.
Bethany’s brow arched, and a subtle shift crossed her expression, something sharp, curious, maybe even amused. “Ha. Got me there, Mason. But seriously? You, faking it?”
Maya blinked at the sound of her last name. It landed wrong, felt jagged in this space between them. Still, she tried to keep her face neutral. Bethany didn’t stop. She leaned in a little, voice low but cutting in its certainty.
“You’re the mystery loner on the football team. Pretending? Please. You could have anyone you wanted. Football players don’t fake it; too many girls throw themselves at them. If anything, they’re more likely to… well, fuck it than fake it.”
Maya flinched. The word Mason still echoed in her head, twisted and off-key in a way she couldn’t quite control. Bethany must have seen something flicker across her face, because her eyes narrowed, sharp as a scalpel.
“Unless,” Bethany said slowly, “you’re hiding something. Maybe you don’t even like girls. Maybe there’s a boy you’ve got your eye on. Is that it? Are you gay, Mason?”
The question hung in the air, heavy, stale, impossible to answer without revealing herself. Maya froze, praying her expression didn’t betray her, her hand tightening on the pencil until the tip snapped against the page. Bethany studied her a moment longer, then leaned back, as if she’d read enough. Her voice softened.
“Or maybe not. Maybe it’s something else. Look, sorry if I crossed a line. I can get… intense. It freaks people out, I know. Just ignore me.” She bent her head back over her sketchpad, her pencil racing again, as if nothing had happened.

Maya let out a shaky breath she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding. Her chest felt too tight, her thoughts too loud. She forced herself back to the sunflower, to the chips in the vase, to the safety of lines and shapes. But all the while, Bethany’s words lingered, leaving her with the strange, unsettling sense of being seen.

As the bell rang and chairs scraped back, Maya shoved her sketchbook into her bag, eager to escape. But before she could swing the strap over her shoulder, a hand caught her arm. Firm, but not unkind. She looked down at the hand, then up, unsurprised to see Bethany watching her with that same steady, unsettling gaze.
“I really don’t mean to pry,” Bethany began, her tone softer now, stripped of the earlier edge. “And I’m sorry about before. I just…” she hesitated, searching for the right words, “I wanted to say, you draw really well. I mean, really well. But… you don’t draw like a football player.”
Maya bristled, heat rushing into her cheeks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Bethany tilted her head, studying her. “It means there’s softness in your lines. Feeling in them. It’s not rigid, not mechanical. There’s something… vulnerable there.” She paused, catching the confusion clouding Maya’s expression, and exhaled in frustration. “Ugh, I’m not saying this right. Look…” She straightened a little, her voice careful now, deliberate. “What I’m trying to say is, I get this… vibe. Effeminate, maybe. Feminine. Like someone’s hiding. And I don’t know if that’s you or just me reading too much into it, but I’m usually a great judge of character, and it’s there. I feel it.”

Maya froze, heart hammering. The words clung to her, too close, too sharp, like Bethany had peeled something back she hadn’t meant anyone to see.
Bethany finally let go of her arm and stepped toward the door. She stopped just before crossing the threshold, hovering there, her shoulders tight like she was arguing with herself. Then, with a small sigh, she turned back. Gingerly, she made her way back to Maya’s side, as if she knew that her words had been heavy and now hung in the air between thick and difficult to move through, as though she now waded back through molasses. As if she were now walking back through the emotional weight of her words, made into a physical obstacle. She walked right back to Maya’s desk and pulled a scrap of paper from her bag.
“I don’t know if I’m right,” she admitted, scribbling a number. “Maybe you’re just good at pretending. But, Mason, if you’re not, if there’s something you don’t feel like you can say right now, if you need someone to talk to who won’t freak out, call me. Really, I mean it, call me if you, like need to talk to someone about something.”
She folded the paper once and slid it into Maya’s hand, her fingers brushing against hers just briefly.
Maya stared at it dumbly, the numbers blurring before her eyes.
“Why… why would I need that?” The words tumbled out clumsily, dazed, as though she couldn’t quite catch them in time.
Bethany only shrugged, her mouth curling into the faintest hint of a smile. “Just a hunch.”
And with that, she was gone, leaving Maya clutching the slip of paper like it was far heavier than it looked, the silence around her suddenly deafening.

*****************************

Maya sat on the edge of her bed in the dark, a blue plushie shark crushed to her chest until the seams groaned. Her grip was so tight her knuckles had gone bone-white; the tiny plastic eye of the shark stared up at the ceiling like an accusation. Tears streamed in surging rivers, rivulets of searing pain cutting down her cheeks. It had been a terrible week and a terrible day to end that terrible week. Every day, she had felt like a fraud, there was no reprieve, everywhere she went, she was either a freak as a girl or a fraud as a boy. Maybe she was a fraud either way, Maya wasn’t sure anymore.

She felt hollowed out, as if whatever made her, her, had been chipped away a little more with every passing hour. Around other people, she was a performance. At school and around other people, she tried desperately to always wear the mask of the person they expected her to be, but alone, at home, the mask slipped, and the rawness and pain underneath were terrifyingly loud. Every day, she had felt like a fraud, there was no reprieve, everywhere she went, she was either a freak as a girl or a fraud as a boy. Maybe she was a fraud either way, Maya wasn’t sure anymore.

Tyler didn’t help. Tyler, with his new girlfriend, Rachel, or Randi or something, Maya still wasn’t quite sure. He announced his stories about her like trophies, crude and proud, the rest of the boys hooting along. Tyler and his friends, who mostly consisted of the rest of the football team, plus other assorted jocks, did not seem to see anything wrong with the way they were talking about the girl, but it made Maya sick just to hear it. They treated the conversation like halftime banter: disposable, meant to be laughed about and forgotten. But Maya heard every crude joke as if it were aimed at her specifically, and each joke scraped a little more paint off whatever thin shell she’d managed to keep in place.

It wasn’t just disgust at their talk. It was a sharp, ugly twist of jealousy that she hadn’t been prepared for, an unfamiliar, shame-shadowed jealousy that made her stomach clench and her chest ache. Maya fundamentally didn’t like how focused Tyler was on this new girl. It did things to Maya and made her feel things that she wasn’t ready to admit, even to herself. She felt irrational jealousy and hatred of the girl whom she had not even met. She was angry at Rachel for existing, at Tyler for being too obsessed with his new toy to spend any time with her anymore, at herself for feeling so small and wrong. The rage was fierce and biting, she wanted to hurt something, anything sometimes the thought was violent in a way that frightened her more than the boys ever did. On top of her dysphoria and feeling like a fraud, she also now had to contend with all these new feelings. Every time that girl was even mentioned, Maya felt a burning rage and need to rip the girl's head off, well, at least punch her or something, and that was just not the kind of person Maya wanted to be.
Worse, the feelings were private, a secret storm she had nowhere to dump them. There was no one she could tell without risking ridicule, betrayal, or something worse. The idea of speaking aloud about the twisting, complicated truth of her heart felt impossible. So she swallowed everything. Alone, in the dark, all her truths were laid bare before her, and they were far more than Maya could handle.

A fresh set of sobs were wrenched from Maya by that thought, and she held her plushie close to her, sobbing, pitiful agonized torment and tears into the plushie Shark affectionately named Susie. If it would have helped in any way, Maya would have even talked to the Shark about her problems, but she was sure she, as in the shark, knew all of it already and was powerless to help. So Maya instead elected to cry into Susie’s embrace and lament how utterly alone and tormented she was.

In her sadness and desperation, Maya remembered Brittany’s offer to talk and listen without judgment. Maya had dismissed that notion then, even considering telling someone made her nervous, let alone someone from school, someone who knew her as Mason. But Maya wasn’t as desperate then, she hadn’t felt so alone and pitiful then, she hadn’t felt such a need to be heard by someone, anyone, then. Right now, a non-judgmental ear felt worth the terrible risk, because Maya needed someone to talk to, someone who wouldn’t judge her, someone more than a plushie Shark. However soft and understanding Susie Shark might be.

With trembling limbs and sniffles, Maya walked towards her chest of drawers and pulled out the piece of paper with Bethany’s number on it that, for a reason that Maya had not been able to fathom when she had set it there, she had not thrown away. The number was still there, the ink slightly smudged from Maya’s fingers the day she’d accepted it. She had not called. She told herself a dozen reasons why not, it was unnecessary, it was too risky, it would change nothing. And yet the paper felt like a lifeline in her palm, and she was too broken right now to care what might happen if she opened up to someone about who she was, who she felt she was on the inside.
She turned the scrap over, smoothed it with a trembling thumb. Bethany’s words echoed, “If you need someone who won’t freak out, call me.” It wasn’t an ultimatum. It wasn’t even a promise. It was just the offer of another human voice on the line, and Maya wanted that so badly.

Maya pressed the shark against her ribs, seeking its soft comfort. For a minute, she just sat there, the phone dark on the bedside table, the number a faint script between her fingers and the humid, familiar ache in her chest. She didn’t dial, not yet. She paused for a fraction of a section, not debating what to do any longer but gathering the courage to do it. Hands trembling, Maya dialled the number and waited, clutching to Susie Shark to her chest, now not out of sadness and desperation but out of fear and anticipation.

Maya was full of nerves after the call with Brittany, the other girl had been so comforting and had just listened without judgement. A silent bastion of strength as Maya bared her soul. When Maya had been finished Bethany had been nothing but supportive and soothing. If their previous conversations in class had been stilted and faltering it was quickly proven that it was purely down to boy that Maya portrayed. With Maya unshackled from her Mason persona they quickly bonded as and began conversing with each other as two teen girls. To listen to the two of them you would have thought that the two girls had been best friends for years, certainly the peels of giggling belied the newness of their friendship.

It was arranged between the two of them that Maya would come to Bethany's house for a girls' evening next Friday. While Maya did not feel comfortable walking between the two houses as a girl, Bethany had encouraged her to at least dress mostly as a girl, even if, for the moment, Maya would be dressed as a fairly boyish girl. Maya had also begged Bethany not to call her Maya in public at school, or anywhere they might be overheard. While Bethany would not concretely promise in relation to the second point, she promised solemnly not to let Maya's identity slip out while at school. Overall, Maya was a lot happier after her call with Bethany, and she felt like she had just made her first friend, not as Mason, but as who she truly was, Maya.

Friday rolled around, and at least with someone to confide in, Maya's week had been markedly better than the one that had preceded it. Maya and Bethany found themselves speaking to one another at least once every couple of days. Maya had quickly grown to enjoy Bethany's acerbic humour and kind-hearted nature. While she could be intense at times, Bethany genuinely seemed to care about others, while she could be slightly odd in her ways, she expressed that concern, which, Maya was certain, had driven several people away from her, she was kind and considerate. Bethany's attitude seemed to have a soothing effect on Maya, the girl seemed to exude a quiet, no nonsense attitude that Maya, usually the antithesis of that, seemed to feed off of as if drawing strength from her friend’s steadfast resolves. Consequently, around Bethany, Maya seemed to be even more full of life than she usually would be.

With Bethany to help her, Maya could honestly say that she hadn't hated this week as she had the last, she hadn’t even merely tolerated it, instead, at the least for parts of her week, she had genuinely enjoyed herself. She honestly could not remember the last time that had been true and had found that happiness of enjoyment enlivening her. The freedom that feeling gave to Maya’s soul was light a bright, warm sun beam that made everything more tolerable, even the things she didn’t enjoy.

Maya had tried to obey Bethany's instructions as best as she could. Maya still did not really have an extensive feminine wardrobe yet, partly out of practicality and partly out of necessity. Maya had few places to store, at least in hiding, a more extensive wardrobe, second, even if she could store one, she had to be very careful when washing and drying clothes, otherwise her mother would soon find out. Thirdly, Maya had very little money to spend to such an ends, she had assembled what little she did have over a period of time, using birthday and Christmas money, plus some she had scraped together from odd jobs, mowing grass and the like. Even then, it had been assembled a piece at a time and using sales/bargains to her advantage.

But Maya had made the best of her extremely limited wardrobe, she had paired a cute pink top with a pair of girls’ jeans that hugged her curvy hips and accentuated her ass in just the right way. While Maya had seldom worn the jeans, she had been able to put them in her everyday wear wardrobe. The jeans had very few distinguishing features bar the cut that marked them as being girl’s jeans, thus Maya had been able to persuade her mom that they were in fact just tight-fitting men’s jeans. She had not entirely fooled her father, though, one of the only times she had dared to wear the jeans around him, he had given a loud kind of choking sniff, before telling his son to go change into some jeans that actually fit.

On Bethany's request, Maya wore a white training bra under her pink top. While it wasn't exactly cold outside, Maya took no chances, it was, however, warm enough that any jacket she did wear would not have to be very thick. Maya did not have any feminine jackets, but she was able to select a fleece that she often wore as Mason. Light blue with a fluffy, soft fleecy lining, it was light enough to not be cumbersome and yet warm enough to protect against chill winds. Maya loved her fleece with a passion, however much her father had hated it. It was just a little too big for her slight frame, and that suited Maya's purpose that afternoon perfectly.

Bethany lived in a house on the edge of town that was only a short walk from Maya’s own, therefore Maya had decided to walk it. It also meant that she did not have to alert anyone as to where exactly she was going. Despite not exactly wearing that being much different at least to the average eye than she did everyday as Mason, Maya felt somehow a lot more exposed, self-conscious and vulnerable than she usually did.

The more she walked away from the safety of her home, the more vulnerable and self-conscious she felt. Even though she knew that the fleece hoodie did a good job of hiding her appear more androgynous, Maya was painfully aware that with her now more girlish ponytail, and girlish figure, most people would consider her a girl, even when zipped up to cover her top, the fleece could only do so much. The part that disturbed Maya the most was not the sense of vulnerability that Maya reasoned any young woman must feel walking alone, but a deep private dread that while she could not possibly be mistaken for a boy anymore, she could not possibly look good as the girl that she was. Those doubts began to grow, multiplying until Maya was a nervous wreck. Maya nearly turned around more than once, but still decided to continue on.

Ironically, it was the most heart-stopping moment of Maya's adventure that gave her the strength and confidence to set her doubts and fears aside. While thus far Maya had encountered few people on her walk, suddenly, the path in front of her took her directly alongside a building that was under renovation. There, most of them shirtless, were several men, most of them young, but even they were several years older than Maya.

Maya found herself strangely drawn to their toned and muscled abs, so much so that, despite her fears, Maya found herself walking considerably slower past them than she had been before she saw them. Maya wondered what it would be like to be held close by one of them, what it would be like to trace her hands down those perfectly sculpted muscles. Maya must have been walking so slowly that she was noticed by some of the men, because she soon heard the first of several wolf whistles.

Those whistles reawakened some of Maya's fears, and she didn't stay around, she sped off quicker than she had been going before she had first seen them. Yet, when she was out of range of their shouts and whistles, peculiarly Maya found that she had a lot more confidence in herself. Those men fully believed that she was a hundred percent female, and an attractive one at that, and if they did, then she couldn't look as obvious as she had first believed. Maya found that for the rest of her walk towards Bethany’s house, she walked slower, with more confidence and more purpose.

Maya still knew very little about Bethany’s family while she and Bethany had bonded fast over the last few days, that was something that had not come up. In some ways, it seemed strange to Maya how short a time she and Bethany had been friends, it felt, when they were talking together, as if they had been best friends for ages, yet in actuality, it had only been a few days.

Bethany’s house was, Maya was surprised to learn, slightly larger than Maya's and the outside was adorned with brightly coloured potted plants, this was all Maya could determine by a brief look around. Nervously, she hesitated on the step for a moment or two, unsure what exactly she was afraid of. Overcoming this, Maya gave a couple of light taps on the door, seeking admittance. To her surprise, Maya found the door instantly opened by a woman with blonde hair, a bright smile and endless energy.

"Hello, come in, come in. You must be Maya, Bethany told me you would stop by. I’m Hannah, Bethany's mom, forgive me if I seem overeager, Bethany doesn't often invite friends over."

Maya found Hannah to be a delightful host and as good company as her daughter, though a tad bit more outgoing and easy going than Bethany. As per Bethany’s instructions, and as much as it galled Maya not to be entirely truthful, Maya answered all Bethany's Mom's questions truthfully and honestly, but crucially without mentioning or in any way hinting at Maya's Manson origin and identity. Bethany had been quite insistent that her mother only be told of Maya, the girl, to Bethany’s mom, there could be no question that Maya was and had always been that which she appeared to be, a girl the same age as Bethany, who went to school alongside Bethany.

After a few minutes of delicate answering to Hannah’s probing questions, Maya was directed upstairs towards Bethany's room, she was also carrying a plate of newly baked cookies and those may have featured into Bethany's decision to open the door as fast as she did, Hannah had cooked them only an hour or so ago so the cookies were still lovely and warm.

Maya examined Bethany's room critically, it was, after all, the first time she had been in another girl’s bedroom, and it was a great example of how, contrary to most fiction, not all girls have rooms that look like a well-organised multi-coloured unicorn threw up all over them. While Bethany's room was fairly clean and organised, it was what could be generously called organised chaos. The room was fairly big, with a queen-size bed as the main focus, to the side nearest the window, there was a small desk. Around the desk were scattered various art supplies, this scatter really encompassed the whole room, but seemed to be most concentrated around the desk.

After several minutes of talking, Bethany went to a draw in bed side cabinet and pulled out several tubes, dishes, brushes and powders that made up her supply of makeup. Holding what appeared to be a lipstick in between her finger and her thumb, and waving it theatrically.

"Do you still want to do this, you don't have to, you know."

"I have tried before and everything, but I guess I have never had someone to show me how before. I think I'm nervous because no one has ever seen me made up like this before, I can't help but think I feel like I will look like a circus freak or something."

"You won't." Bethany told her with certainty and sincerity.

"Just promise you won't laugh if I do, ok."

"I promise." Bethany agreed, pulling the other girl into a much-needed hug.

That settled, the pair took a while to prepare, Bethany went down to make a couple of cups of tea and then they sat talking for a few minutes eating the cookies and getting and getting mentally prepared, at least Maya was, the idea of looking unnatural or like some sort of freak to a degree that she even drove Bethany away was a fear deeply ingrained.

They sat on two brightly coloured beany bags, as Bethany got to work. Once they got into it, Maya was fascinated by all the different varying compounds and techniques. Bethany took her time and explained, showed and taught Maya as much as possible, figuring that this needed to be as much as anything else a learning experience for the woefully in experienced Maya.

Despite that, when it was all done, thanks mostly to Bethany's skill, Maya could not believe the results. She held the mirror up and could scarcely believe it. The girl staring back at her was soft and natural looking, she looked like herself, but more so.

“Wow, I look hot.” Maya breathed.

“You said it, girl.” Bethany agreed with a laugh.

“Though if you need to prove it to yourself, you could always go find those workmen you told me about.” Bethany added with a suggestive look.

“No, I’m not ready for that anyway, they wouldn’t be interested after they knew.” Maya told her loudly and firmly.

“Maybe, don’t knock yourself, given how hot you look, many of them might not be as put off as you might think."

"Regardless, it doesn't matter, I mean, I don't even know if I like boys or girls. Though those men really did help my confidence considerable even though they did scare me a bit! It's strange and slightly disturbing that their approval boosted confidence like that. Isn't it like, masochistic and degrading, why would I like that? Is this a whole thing?"

“More than you know, girl! There is a certain power in how we affect potential sexual partners, usually men. There is also power in control and how that is given and taken. Part of that is feeling confident and maybe even excited by their reactions, even if those reactions are a little degrading.”

There was silence between the two for a minute or two, then something changed in Bethany’s expression and the atmosphere between the two friends. Bethany moved like a predator, in an almost stalking fashion, until, whilst still mostly on her bean bag, part of her legs and thighs rested on Maya's, brushing experimentally yet confidently against Maya’s legs. Maya's shy gaze met Bethany's self-assured and confident one, and a fire was blazing between them.

Maya's breath hitched, turning coarse in her throat, she let out an involuntary moan as she felt Bethany's breath on her neck to Bethany’s sly smile only grew as she rested her right hand on Maya's upper thigh. Then, just as suddenly as she had moved towards Maya, she moved both hands to grab both Maya's arms and pin them to Maya’s sides, firmly but gently. Persistence and forceful, but not to a harmful extent, just enough to make Maya's heart skip a beat.

Maya knew that she should be thinking, should say something, she wasn't ready for anything like this and well, Bethany was her only friend who knew her secret, she couldn't risk messing that up, could she? But already she was too overcome by lust and the powerful pull that seemed to be drawing her towards Bethany like a magnet. Maya's body was already rushing forward, her lips ready to greet Bethany's. Bethany hesitated for a moment, and then she pulled back. In seconds, she was sat, on her bean bag, a small but significant distance across from Maya, just as she had been at the start. Bethany let out a small laugh, not sharp but cheerful, and she was sweet. That laugh, so breathless and soft, burst what had been between the two of them like the bursting of a soap bubble.

Maya was momentarily stunned and dazed her eyes wide and searching about her as if she had been in a dream.

"See," Bethany chortled lightly. “I answered two of your questions in one there. I showed you the power of control, dominance and a little of what it means to give up that control, and I also answered your question of whether you like boys or girls. At least from your reaction there, I can say with certainty that you definitely like girls, even if we can't answer the question of boys. "

Maya found herself rolling her eyes at her newfound friend, not trusting herself to speak yet. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, one of which was that she would dearly love to whip that sardonic smirk off Bethany's face right now, but she really could not decide on how.

Despite the recent tone shift between them and Maya’s initial reluctance to speak, the energy that had recently existed between them was once again gone, and it did not take long for the two friends to go back to animated conversation. With the tension gone, Maya was happy to feel them both shifting back into the usual pattern of their friendship. They discussed Tyler and how his new relationship was making Maya feel, and throughout, Bethany stayed most unusually silent, often with a knowing smirk on her face, content to let her friend vent her frustrations. Maya noticed Bethany's unusual silence but wasn't sure what, if anything, that silence signified and didn't want to read too much into it.

The pair also discussed further get-togethers and activities. Bethany wanted to go to the mall with her new friend, something Maya was deeply opposed to. Maya was opposed to the idea primarily as the mall was not far away from where the majority of the school’s students lived, and consequently was seen as a well-known hang out location. Maya knew that if she were to venture there, she was liable to encounter numerous people who knew her as Mason or at least knew of her as Mason. Maya knew that there was a high chance of recognition there, one she was no eager to encounter. Finally, and rather crucially for Maya, who was rapidly losing the argument, the two girls were called down for dinner by Bethany's mom before a final decision could be reached. Ending the conversation prematurely.

"Psst... have you heard about Benny's party? It's going to be next week."

"Yes," Maya giggled quietly. "But obviously I won't be attending.”

Benny's parties were legendary among the students, Maya had of course, gone to several of them in the past. Maya had always gone performing a role and only at Tyler's behest. She had gone as Mason, the star football player, even if she preferred to stay out of the limelight, Mason was still one of the centres of attention and somewhat a celebrity at such occasions. Thus, Maya had tried to avoid all such occasions, it just felt so wrong to her going there as Mason, the football star. It just felt to Maya that she was lying to everyone, and that was one thing that Maya hated the idea of.

When in the past Maya had attended such parties, she had usually been playing the part of Tyler's wingman. It was not a role she had ever relished but one Maya had felt it was her duty as his best friend to fulfil. The only other times Maya had attended were in an attempt to spend more time with Tyler and had never left this side. Maya had enjoyed those times the most, there were no expectations, then and as much as she ever could be as Mason, she could be herself. Tyler had never left her out or made her feel out of place, making sure Maya was included in the conversations and comfortable. That was what Maya enjoyed about Tyler, he was so conscientious and caring, at least he was to Maya, but only when he wasn't distracted by one of his many girlfriends. But with Tyler focused on Randi and Maya having to attend as Mason, Maya had no intention of going to any such events.

"Really?" Bethany questioned. "I thought maybe this would be a great opportunity for you to, you know, be yourself in public."

Bethany waved down the objections Maya was already forming.

Bethany waved a piece of chalk dexterously and theatrically. The pair were sitting in their shared art class, and with the amount of talking they had been doing, all in a hushed tone, so as not to be overheard, it was a wonder either of them had been able to do any art at all.

"I know you’re not ready, but when would you be ready. Seriously, no one would make the connection. You could socialise without much risk at all, and it would give you a chance to learn how to be a girl in public."

Maya's first reaction was fear, fear of being found out, fear of others' reactions if they knew, and fear of the unknown. Yet, the more Maya thought on it, the more Bethany's words sank in and seemed to make sense. It was very tempting; Maya's only experience with such parties had been dull at best, and the idea of going to one as herself, along with Bethany, had a certain appeal. It would allow Maya to replace her dual sad memories with one that was a lot better, and with Bethany for company, Maya knew that she would have a brilliant time.

"You’re sure, no one would recognise me?" Maya fretted.

"Honestly, no, not really, despite being a member of one of the highest profile groups in the school, you are, for the most part fairy invisible. I mean, other than a couple of your teammates, most people don't know anything about you other than your name. Mason is just so invisible, most of them have never even properly met you, let alone truly seen you. If they do make any connection, they will most likely conclude that Maya is your cousin or something.”

"Maybe, can I think about it?" Maya asked, still unsure of herself.

"Yeah, but don't worry that pretty little head of yours for too long, I need to know by Friday. If you agree, we will need to shop for some outfits for it on Friday." It was then that Bethany noticed Maya's stricken look, "Don't worry, I was thinking of having Mom drive us to the other mall.”

There were two malls near where Maya and Bethany lived. Almost everyone from their school gravitated to the closer one; its convenience practically guaranteed you’d run into classmates, teachers, or the kind of kids who would stare too long and ask too many questions. The other mall was farther, quieter, older, and most importantly for Maya’s purposes, anonymous. Maya nodded and tried to refocus back on her artwork. Not an easy feat with all the emotions Bethany had just stirred up. Maya of course, eventually told Bethany yes and the two giddy girls soon found themselves at the mall trying on outfits and dresses.

The whole experience was foreign to Maya, yet extremely enjoyable. Bethany, ever the agent of mischief and spontaneity, had Maya laughing, smiling, giggling and cackling the whole time. Several outfit try-ons and multiple dresses later, So many in fact that Maya had begun to feel like a model, several times she came out of the cubicle half expecting to hear the click of cameras. Maya finally found a dress that she and Bethany agreed would be just right for her. It was a black skater dress that Bethany told her would look great paired with sheer tights. Maya's outfit would be completed with a denim jacket she had admired in Bethany's closet the other day, and Bethany agreed that it would fit the look perfectly and finish off Maya’s outfit.

**********************************

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Maya asked as she arrived at Bethany's house, right after the party.

Maya's mom still didn't know Maya was at Bethany's house, nor that Maya was planning to spend the night there, Maya did feel bad about lying to her mom like that. It was totally antithetical to Maya's nature, and she certainly wasn’t proud of all the lying. The same lie as last time was covering for her now, her mom believed that, as Maya had done multiple times before, she was at Tyler's house and was staying the night there.

Hannah, Bethany's mom, planned to drop both girls off and pick them both up again later. That was the plan at least, one that Maya had begun to doubt the sensibility of on her walk over.

"Are you ok there, Honey?” Hannah asked from the front of the car.

It took Maya a moment or two for her to realise that she was the intended recipient of that comment. Letting out a breath and trying to compose herself while expelling the sick feeling in her stomach without expelling the dinner she had just consumed, Maya hesitantly.

"Fine, thanks, just nervous." She tried to sound bright and upbeat, missing the mark slightly on the delivery.

"Don't worry, honey, you look lovely, as bright as a button, you're both bound to be the bells of the ball."

Maya's outfit, which Bethany had been keeping hidden at her house until it was needed for the party, had been finished with a borrowed set of black Leather high heeled boots that Maya was quite taken with.

As they were getting out of the car, Maya stopped suddenly to ask Bethany the question that had been playing on her mind since she had arrived at Bethany's house.

"Do you think this is a good idea?"

Bethany nodded slowly. "Honestly, you would be safer if we weren't doing this, but I think you need to do something like this. You need to prove to yourself that you can do this.”

Maya considered this and was forced to conclude that her friend was probably right.

As they stepped through the doorway, the bass was so powerful it vibrated through the soles of Maya’s shoes, rattling up her bones. Even outside the house, the beat had made the pavement hum, but inside it was a living thing. A pulsing storm. The party was exactly as Maya remembered it, though somehow louder, brighter, and infinitely more chaotic now that she wasn’t hiding behind her Mason persona. Neon lights flickered and swept across the dim interior, painting the walls and everyone in them in shifting waves of pink, blue, and electric green. The colours clung to faces and hair like liquid light, making every expression seem exaggerated, unreal. The air was hot and thick, perfumed with sweat, perfume, cheap beer, and that faint, unmistakable tang of someone vaping too close.

People moved around them like dizzy comets, ricocheting from room to room, laughing too loudly, shouting over the music, sloshing their drinks dangerously with every stumble. Red Solo cups flashed everywhere, raised in greeting, clutched like lifelines, or forgotten on surfaces.

Bethany leaned close, her breath warm on Maya’s ear, and shouted to be heard.

“Same as always, right?”

Maya nodded automatically, though nothing felt the same.

"Maya, head up, girl. You’re not pretending, you are Maya, a confident, beautiful girl, and you are going to have a good time, meet new people and generally have fun. Relax, enjoy yourself. Take deep breaths and be yourself, your real self."

Maya nodded, trying to take in Bethany's words and do as her friend suggested. It was by no means easy for her to do. Despite herself, Maya found it easier and easier to comply with Bethany's words the more time went on. The first few times she had spoken to people she had met or knew as Mason, those conversations had been stilted and uncomfortable. However, as she had more and more of those conversations and not one person made the connection, Maya became more confident.

Now more confident in being herself and less fearful of discovery, Maya happily followed Bethany around, acting as her own personal shadow. A few marked this as odd, one or two even to asked if they were a couple, but it did not seem to phase Bethany, she just laughed it off and explained that she was merely helping Maya, a friend who went to one of the two other schools in the district, find her way around the party that was full of people she had never met before. If anyone still raised an eyebrow after that, it was quietly dismissed as just another one of Bethany's odd quirks and forgotten about.

In general, Maya was a smash hit, Bethany deliberately steered Maya to groups of girls, most of which quickly accepted Maya as just another girl and many of whom seemed genuinely interested in becoming Maya's friend, Maya swapped numbers with a few of them. Bethany also attempted to steer Maya away from any large groups of boys. She was unsure if Maya was really ready for that sort of interaction yet, and didn't want to put Maya in any situations that she was not capable of handling. The aim of this evening was to boost Maya's confidence and help her learn what it was to be herself in front of other people, not to scare Maya away from ever exploring her true self.

It became obvious to Maya early on that, despite Bethany's reputation, she was well-liked. Surprisingly, she had friends or at least people she was friendly with in lots of different social groups. Despite her rebel-like reputation and her bad girl, abrasive anti people demeanour, Bethany actually was far from that in reality, and it seemed that lots more people than Maya had previously realised knew this, usually for someone with that reputation, it would be rare to have friends in so many walks of high school society. Maya had been surprised when Bethany had introduced her to several friends, all of them nerdy girls, either from the English club or the IT club, respectively, and then immediately afterwards introduced her to a couple of girls who were football cheerleaders. Maya thought she recognised them from one of the games she had played in, but obviously couldn't admit to that, although she did find out their names, Mindy and Linda. Maya had expected the cheerleaders to be stuck up and self-important, but she had actually found both Mindy and Linda to be kind and considerate and nothing like she had imagined cheerleaders to be.

While Bethany had never mentioned her sexuality to Maya, it had never come up, and Maya wasn't one to push for information her friend wasn't willing to freely volunteer, Maya did hear several hints as to her friend's sexuality that night. While Maya had known that Bethany had dated one of her teammates, rapidly became obvious that boys were not the only people she had dated. Several girls made comments that made Maya think back to that moment between them in Bethany's room. The atmosphere and tension the level of possession and control Bethany had, had over her. Several girls eluded to similar things that left Maya in little doubt where Bethany honed her craft. One girl had actually thrown herself at Bethany, trying to hold and kiss her, much to Bethany’s annoyance having had to explain to the girl, why she didn't want any sort of relationship right now. Still this didn’t stop several girls trying to drape themselves over her at every opportunity they got, much to Maya's amusement and it presented her with several opportunities for eye rolling.

It was while Maya and Bethany were talking to one of these groups of girls that Maya’s heart and confidence dropped away. One minute, she was cheery and bubbly, animatedly talking to a couple of the cheerleaders; the next, Maya seemed to be experiencing the early stages of a panic attack. While the girls attempted to comfort and help Maya to gather herself. Unfortunately, for Maya, the cause of her minor panic attack which she was rapidly recovering from, was easily discerned, not just by Bethany but by several of the other girls as well.

Tyler, he was slowly making his way over to the group of girls, though he did seem to keep getting distracted by other groups and people in the way, but he was definitely headed there. While Maya's first reaction was to wish to just run away and avoided her former best friend, one look and a shake of the head from Bethany put pay to that idea.

"It will be fine, honey. Just breath that’s it. It’s Tyler, isn’t it? You like him? Well, if you won't admit to it, I will, he is hot.” One girl told Maya comfortingly.

"Yeah, cute and clueless, like most boys." Another of the girls interrupted.

Tyler, Maya was surprised to learn, had changed into a new, clean shirt. In Maya's opinion, he looked good, maybe better than she had ever seen him look. Tyler’s sleeves were rolled up in a way that Maya would agree was considerably hot. Maya felt considerable heat in her cheeks at the thought. As usual, when she saw Tyler in short sleeves or rolled up sleeves, Maya found her stomach assaulted by butterflies. Something that Maya was far from ready to consider the implications of.

Bethany pulled Maya to the side as Tyler once again got distracted by another group nearby.

"Look, you can't appear to be afraid of him; remember, you have to be fearless tonight. You need to be yourself, be Maya. Tyler may not even recognise you, multiple other people haven't."

"You're right. I wish it were as easy as all that sounds, though. I don't hold out much hope that Tyler won't recognise me immediately; he knows me really well. The people who have so far not recognised me don't really know me all that well."

"Well, you are not hiding, that's for sure. Hopefully, he won't recognise you and will move swiftly on. If it is not, then we will deal with that if and when it happens. Just be brave, and be yourself. Now come on, let's get back to the others."

With that, Bethany led Maya back to the group of girls they had most recently been talking to.

As Tyler approached the group of girls, his eyes alighted on Maya. Maya saw him tilt his head just slightly to one side, as she had so often seen him do when he was intrigued or puzzled by something. Maya had always found it cute and knew she was not the only one who found it so, multiple of Tyler's ex-girlfriends had also said so, although not directly to Maya, she had overheard them talking to others about it.

Maya pretended to have no interest in Tyler, instead, feigning interest in the party around her. Maya sipped her spiked soda and strategically viewed the crowd, looking anywhere but at Tyler, lest her emotional strength fail her. But when Maya looked up, inexorably as if they were two poles of the same magnet, Tyler was staring back at her, their eyes meeting, pulling the other deeper in. Maya let out a shaky breath, cursing silently the universe, which seemed to want to ruin her life.

"Hey," Tyler said with a grin as he sauntered up to Maya. “Have we met before? I feel like we have?"

Maya felt her heart sink and lift up all at the same time, he hadn't recognised her, which made Maya happy, hopeful and distraught all at the same time, it was a heady mix that Maya was unsure how to deal with. Maya also recognised that this gave her a few options, none of which seemed good to her. She could, Maya recognised, give up this charade and tell Tyler now, it would at least mean that she hadn't deceived Tyler, something that sat badly with her. But telling Tyler would take more courage than Maya felt she could muster right this moment. Maya had no idea how Tyler might react, and Maya knew she couldn't take any heartbreak tonight plus this room felt far too crowded for such a private declaration. Maya didn't want to risk someone overhearing and destroying her life and reputation. Maya did briefly consider doing that which she longed to do, which was to tell Tyler no and run away from him as fast as she could. However, Maya felt that this would only gain people's attention, causing aggravation and confusion. It might have been the cause of action Maya longed to take, but it was most definitely not one that she could take. Her third option was then the course she decided to take, which was to feign ignorance of any previous meetings and hope that Tyler continued not to recognise her. It was high risk as Tyler might discover her identity at any moment, but Maya reasoned that it was her only real option.

Composing herself and socialising on the perfect delivery of her Maya voice, one that was slight different and very much girlier than the way she had to speak as in Mason, Maya fervently hoped that all these many months on her own practising it would truly pay off now.

"I don't know, have we?" Her high, clear, girlish tone was coquettish and teasing in its light joviality.

"Well, it's that we haven't, then it is truly a shame and my loss to and if we have, then it is a true crime for me to have forgotten someone so charming and beautiful as yourselves. I'm Tyler." He introduced with a cheesy flattery that forced Maya, in spite of herself, to stifle a giggle.

"Maya." She enthused with a grin.

"Maya," he repeated under his breath. "Such a pretty name."

It was something about hearing her name in his voice that turned Maya's insides to jelly and started her heart spinning wildly. She could not stop the love-struck smile that invaded her lips, and Maya found herself utterly incapable of thinking of anything but the in front of her.

It was Bethany who saved Maya from the folly that was invariably liable to issue from that moment.

“Really Tyler, that’s what you are going with, those were the sleaziest insincere lines I have ever heard. Maya is hardly likely to fall for that rubbish.” She took a step forward towards the pair and folded her arms to her chest defiantly.

"Bethany", "Tyler acknowledged. "Nice to see you again." His forced politeness was icy cold and Maya did not think she had ever heard Tyler so hostile to anyone before.

"Likewise." She calmly and icily replied.

"Is Maya one of yours then, only I didn't recognise her. Most of yours go around with dog collars on their necks and scared looks in their eyes!"

"What I and mine do is no concern of yours!" Bethany barked hotly. "As for Maya, she is not my girlfriend as you seem to be insinuating. She is merely a friend who has accompanied me here tonight. Maya is perfectly capable of making her own decisions as to who to associate with, though if she wants my advice, it would not be with you. Talking of girlfriends, where is yours? Hadn't you best be getting back to her before someone makes a play for her?"

"Unlike you, I trust my girlfriends and don't treat them like property." Tyler sneered words and a belief of trust that would be proven to be unfounded in the hours ahead.

With those last words, Bethany drew off a little distance away, leaving Maya and Tyler alone again together.

"I'm sorry about that," Tyler said at length.

"I'm not usually like that I swear, she just... She just really annoys me, you know."

Maya hummed uncomfortably. She was not sure what to make of the explosive tension between her two best friends. She had never known or suspected that such animosity and anger existed between them. And now poor Maya found herself blindsided by it.

"What was all that about?" She asked quietly, not wanting to risk causing more anger from Tyler, but wishing to understand.

"That, forget about it, it is an old fight, one I don't want to think about right now. If you really want to know, you should ask her about it sometime. But it would be better if you just forgot the whole thing." Tyler declared with a series of sighs and a visible relaxation of the tension in his back and shoulders. “So, are you new here? I mean, I would definitely have remembered you if we had met before."

Maya gladly took the way out that Tyler had just offered her, trying to think that she had been a way out of this question of her and Tyler having met before.

"No, you are right, I don’t go to Eastgate.” Maya lied but not without tremendous regret.

“That explains it, there is no way that I could have missed seeing that you all year, nor that someone like you could just appear out of nowhere.”

Maya felt her cheeks growing redder and redder at this and wondered at the tension that was between them. This tension hadn't existed between them when she was Mason, at least she didn't think it had. So why was it so powerfully there now? It confounded Maya to no end, but she really wasn't in the right head space to give it the deep thoughts that it required. Maya's thoughts betrayed her as well. Oh, why did he have to be so cocky, and flirty, and look so good? Surely it was, like, a crime or something?

"You play football or something," Maya asked, not because she was that interested in leaving Tyler talk about football, she got enough of that on a daily basis already, but as a tactic to gain time and to gather herself.

"Quarterback. Guilty as charged. I won’t bore you with details, though, unless you’re a fan. Are you a fan?" Tyler laughed nervously.

Maya shrugged noncommittally. "Not really."

"Well, I'm glad I didn't bore you with those details then."

For the next few minutes, it went on like that, Tyler asking questions. Maya was evasive at first, but the more time that went on, the more Maya was drawn into answering and their dynamic as a whole.

"You know you're very different from a lot of girls."

Maya's heart sank to the floor. Did Tyler know all along?

"Good different?" She managed despite the worry that had suddenly dried her throat.

"The best kind."

Maya's heart skipped a beat, and it wasn't just because she realised that Tyler hadn't figured out her identity. She knew then that she should have made more of an effort to leave this conversation before, that she should make an excuse and leave Tyler now. But Maya didn't. She couldn't. She stayed.

Tyler casually reached his arm to the side of Maya's face and carefully brushed a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. Maya's breath caught as everything around her seemed to stop and then pale into insignificance, everything and everyone except Tyler.

His lips moved slightly. "Can I...?"

Maya didn't can answer, she didn't dare, she didn't dare agree, but she couldn't bring herself to reject this. Tyler came closer and closer, but just before the inevitable kiss, Maya panicked. She violently jumped back, almost upsetting a small table in her haste.

"I... I should go, I'm sorry." Maya stammered, hyperventilating in her panicked state of anxiety as she did so.

"Did... Did I do something wrong?" Tyler asked Maya’s now hastily retreating form.

"No, look, I am really sorry, so sorry. It's not you, I promise." Maya stopped and half turned around again to offer these words before she began running again.

There was a lot for the two girls to emotionally unpack when they arrived back at Bethany’s. While it had not been Maya’s intention to tell Bethany of the thoughts and feelings she had felt for Tyler at the party, she had found herself doing just that.

Bethany, despite her animosity for Tyler, proved as good a listener and confidante in this as Maya had found her to be in the past, when she had talked to Bethany about other things. While talking everything through with Bethany didn’t help Maya to understand her own emotions all that much better than before, it did make her feel a little better. Better enough to start questioning what was behind the animosity between Bethany and Tyler that Maya had only gotten cryptic clues from both of them about.

At first, Bethany, much like Tyler, didn’t want to open up to Maya about it, but under pressure in the form of constant questioning from Maya, she relented a little.
“Look, it's a fairly old argument, about three years ago, Tyler walked in on something he had no right to see. I was with my girlfriend Linda at the time, and Tyler took issue with our relationship. Don’t worry, it wasn’t because he is anti-liberal or anything,” Bethany reassured, already seeing the direction Maya’s thoughts were taking her.
"Tyler’s issues with me and at the time with my relationship purely stemmed from what he had accidently overheard and a I guess a long-standing rivalry. I think he believes I disrespect, those I am with, that and I think often he is just jealous. Tyler especially has a problem with any girls I attempt to date as he believes I corrupt them or something. His problems though are all based around me. It really doesn’t and need not include you, Maya. Nor should you let it effect the way you see Tyler, despite his opinions of me, he is a good guy and one you sound like you have feelings for.”
Maya tried to deny that, but it only ended with Maya looking like a fool with all that she had admitted to Bethany by this point.

---

Monday morning, and Maya, drab as she could manage, was finding it more and more difficult to maintain the facade of Mason. The more time she spent as herself with Bethany, the harder maintaining Mason became. All ready that evening had, for Maya, taken on the bright light of reality and truth, while, for Maya, this life as Mason had begun to feel like a bad fever dream.

Maya and a group of her peers sat in the home room, Maya was pretending to scroll through her phone, or more accurately, pretending not to eavesdrop on conversations around her while of scrolling on her phone, she wasn’t truly sure anymore, she seemed to be devoting as much attention to one activity as the other.

Tyler’s conversation was by far the loudest and also the one that interested Maya the most. While his conversation did not involve the entire current populous of the home room, it did seem to involve a number of them. At first, it was just a general discussed about Benny’s party, most of the participants had gone and thus were happily exchanging animated accounts with one another. While that did to some degree interest Maya, she could not participate because as Mason, she had decided not to attend. Maya wasn’t ready to reveal her true self to any of them just yet, especially after what had happened, nearly happened with Tyler. So instead of participating, Maya began listening in.

Tyler had soon taken the conversation over, however, with his talk of a mystery girl he had met at the party.
“I swear, bro,” he said to Zeke and Jay.
“She was hot, like mega hot, but not like arrogant and mean with it, like some girls; she was actually really pleasant. She had this vibe… understated but really likeable. There was some serious connection between us, like an unreal connection. I have never felt anything like that before. But she dipped before I could get her number.”
“Probably ran away screaming after seeing your ugly face for more than a minute.” Jay offered with a smirk. “Oh, when will the horror ever end!" He added in a screechy high-pitched tone.
“Nah, she probably never existed in the first place. A figment of Tyler’s imagination!” Zeke mocked, then, seeing Mason nearby, added. “What do you think of Tyler’s imaginary girlfriend, Mason? Do you think she is real, or do you think he was ghosted by a dream?”

Maya tried to keep her answer short and noncommittal as though she didn’t know or didn’t care. She hoped she had disguised well enough that the fear and embarrassment that this conversation created for her. Despite this, she could not help but worry about the curious glance Tyler gave her, searching as if he were trying to figure something out. Maybe it was just Maya’s guilty conscience, but Maya was worried that it would not take Tyler as long as she had hoped to work out her secret.
“You know what I think," Zeke said conspiratorially in a slightly lowered voice, no-one answered, but he continued on regardless. “I don’t think she exists and your just making her up out of jealousy and spite for that Randi girl you were sweet on cheating on you and publicly dumping you last night. Look, we all feel sorry for you, you don’t have to make up some mystery girl though. What Randi did was not ok, we are mad at her as well for doing that to you.”

“Nice sentiment, Zeke, even if you do make it very difficult at times not to hit you. What Randi did sucks. I still can’t quite believe it. I trusted her, and all the while she was messing around with that guy, Jack, and dumping me like that in front of everyone. But I am not making this girl up; she was real.”
“Ok, ok, man, I believe you.” Jay held his hands up in mock surrender. “What was she like, this mystery girl?”
"She had long red hair and these penetrating green eyes. This silky soft voice and, man, she was hot. Apparently, she doesn’t go here; she must go to St Anne’s or something. Anyway, we talked for a bit, and man, there was something between us, you know, this chemistry, this spark. She almost kissed me and then… I don’t know, she just bailed, I guess.”
They all laughed, Maya, joining in so as not to appear to be singular in her reaction, even though her laughter was forced, coarse, and brittle. The last thing she felt like doing was laughing.

"Damn, she really got in your head,” This was from Jay.
“Maybe you did imagine her, you were drinking.” Maya added trying not to sound too hopeful.
“Dude, I wasn’t that far gone. I remember talking to her. I remember how hot she was. I even remember her name, it was Maya.” Tyler defended tersely.
Maya froze, her heart beating wildly. She went deathly pale and hoped that no one would notice. Even now, though, despite the high-risk scenario, she couldn’t help but take a moment to recognise how much she still loved how her true name sounded when he said it.
“Honestly, if I see her again, I am definitely asking her out.” Then Tyler turned to regard Mason again, this time with a scrutinising eye.
"Don’t take this the wrong way, dude, but she kind of looked a little like you, Mason. Do you have any cousins who go to St Anne’s?”
Maya’s heart nearly stopped, but she managed, barely, to choke out the words, "Not that I am aware of.”

“Oh come on, dude, even if we agree with you that she did exist, then how are you going to find her, you don’t even know for sure that she attends St Anne’s.” Zeke pointed out.
“I will find her. Just you watch.” Tyler promised.
The bell rang, saving Maya from any more of this conversation, which was all too often hitting too close to home for her liking and safety.

*****************************************

Maya let out a small sigh out of second period, as it was Friday, pretty much dead on a week since the party and yet Tyler still hadn’t let it go. It was to the point where Maya dreaded looking at her phone because there would pretty much always be a message from Tyler. There were the normal messages, most about football, most of which Maya didn’t care for but dutifully and responded to, and then there where the ones that she dreaded. Ones where Tyler looked to his best friend, Mason, for support in his ever more fanatical search for Maya.

Tyler didn’t know that the same person he was texting for support was the one he was searching for, and Maya found it more and more difficult to keep Tyler in the dark. For one thing, Maya was running out of supportive but useless things to tell him; there are only so many glib but supportive statements in the world and Maya couldn’t help but feel that by now she had used every single one of them. Secondly, Maya had begun to feel quite guilty for the continued deception. It was, after all, not an intended deception, and the last thing Maya had intended to do was to trick and hurt her best friend, yet Bethany had warned against it.

On Monday, when Maya had first realised that Tyler was not going to easily forget Maya, Maya had, after school, gone to Bethany’s house for an emergency conversation. While Maya would have liked to talk it over with Bethany several hours before that, it was simply not possible. The only class they shared was art, which was the last period for them both on a Monday, something Maya had been immensely grateful for, but even this didn’t give Maya the opportunity to talk as freely as she needed.

Simply put, the art classes, where they had to worry about being overheard by their classmates or told off by their teacher, were not the right environment to discuss what Maya desperately needed to discuss.
“Maya, you can’t tell him,” Bethany began as soon as they were in the relative safety of Bethany’s room with its firmly shut door.
Maya still looked unconvinced and sceptical.
Bethany sighed, “It's not my personal animosity towards Tyler if that’s what you are thinking. You know perfectly well all the reasons telling him would be a very risky idea, you better than most.”
Maya still looked sceptical and confused.
"Oh, please stop being so obtuse. How do you think Tyler is going to react to the revelation that his dream girl is actually his best friend, whom he has known as a boy for most of his life? How is he going to react to that potential public embarrassment? Even if he could personally get over the revelation, I doubt he could stand by you with the public humiliation. The male ego is so fragile that it can only take so much. And I know you know this, you wouldn’t have survived this long as a girl mistaken for a boy in that masculine world otherwise.”

Maya sat there stunned but knowing the truth of what Bethany spoke. While Maya trusted Tyler more than most other people, more than most men yet she could not be certain of his reaction. Maya had already dismissed her hopes of telling Tyler and Tyler telling her that it didn’t matter, that he loved her regardless as a foolish, girlish fantasy. Now she had to admit to herself that Bethany was probably right, Tyler was a good guy but with peer pressure and public embracement, he probably would cave. It would also probably end the long-standing friendship that had been between them for so long, and Maya was not sure she could deal with losing him as a friend as well.
“So, what do I do?” Maya had asked after breaking the silence that had accompanied Maya’s revelations.
“For the moment, nothing,” Bethany had advised grimly. “We will hope that it all blows over, that Tyler moves on soon, once he finds he can’t find Maya.”

**********************************

The only problem with Bethany’s plan was Tyler. He did not forget about Maya, nor did he give up. Bethany’s plan did not take into account enough of Tyler’s boyish pride nor his dogged determination. At any usual time, Maya would have found qualities sweet if not cute, but not this time; this time, she found it extremely vexing.

Her worst fear was that in his attempts to find her on social media, Tyler might stumble upon her Maya page. A social media page that she had been adding to rapidly over the last couple of weeks. Bethany had suggested that Maya delete the page to solve the problem, but Maya could not bring herself to do so. Thus, while it was a terrible idea, Maya left the page alone and merely took to hoping that Tyler did not discover it.

Monday rolled around again, and Maya knew Tyler still hadn’t given up due to the constant barrage of texts she kept receiving from him about it. So, it was not a surprise when he started on that topic again as soon as Maya sat down with her tray at lunch, they were sat, Maya and Tyler surrounded by their friends, well most of them were more Tyler’s friends, but since a prerequisite of someone being Tyler’s friends was usually that they got on well with Mason, it was a distinction that had no distinction at least until recently. Several of them were teammates from the football squad, but others were just friends Tayler had made over the years.

Tyler leaned across the table.
"That Maya girl, I can’t get her out of my head. The way she looked at me, the way she spoke. I can’t find her anywhere, though.”
“You're obsessed,” Jay groaned, rolling his eyes.
“Enough with that Maya girl, its not like there is a shortage of hot girls out there, why don’t you pick one of them. Any of them, let this Maya girl go, man. Its obvious she is ghosting you.”
“I know,” Tyler said, leaning back. "It’s messed up. Maybe I messed up. But I can’t stop thinking about her.”
Maya choked out her laugher, bitter in her throat. "Wow your whipped and you didn’t even get her number. "
"Shut up, I’m being serious here. "
Maya tried desperately to clear her throat and keep her voice from shaking as she uttered the words. “You can’t really be suggesting that you are going to fall in love with a girl you met for ten minutes and might never see again?”
“I don’t know,” he offered quietly and then even more gently, softly, almost under his breath, “Maybe.”

It hit Maya full force. Those quiet words breaking her heart in two. A wave of emotions was breaking over her. So much in fact that Maya struggled to name them all let alone feel them. One of the keenest though was a sense of loss, sadness and regret. He was serious too. Tyler loved her. Was in love with her, and she couldn’t say a thing. He loved her, and she couldn’t even tell him who she was.

---

It took another round of persuading on the telephone that night for Bethany to stop Maya from outing herself to Tyler. Maya knew that Bethany was right, but it still didn’t make things any easier for Tyler, who had all but declared his love for her at lunch, and every bone in her body told her to respond in kind. It didn’t help that her feelings for Tyler had long been confused and complicated with no true analogise relationship to pin its bounds down to and confine it.

In the end, Maya hung on, despite all Tyler’s comments and attempts to find her; Maya stood firm in her resolve not to say anything. Although the whole affair had forced her to consider more widely her friendship with Tyler and the implications of the emotions he stirred up within her. While Maya was not quit ready to a consider those implications more widely, she was forced to admit that she felt more for Tyler than any best-friend reasonably ought and that she was uncomfortably possessive of him, that the idea of Tyler loving someone else filled her with a jealous rage that was only invigorated by Tyler’s unknowing and unintentional confession of his feelings for her.

Unfortunately for Maya and her possessive jealousy, as Bethany predicted, it was not long before Tyler moved on, a week later. Maya couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it. It wasn’t like she hadn’t expected it in the wake of the party, but still, it was an incredible blow. Not least because, for the last couple of weeks, Maya had foolishly begun to fantasise that this could end in some other way.

Maya found out the same way everyone else did, a social media post. She had skipped what promised to be an incredibly dull English class and was standing outside the gym building alongside Bethany when she saw it. Leah’s cutesy post of her and Tyler in matching hoodies. The rage and pain Maya felt were intolerable, as she soundlessly, wordlessly showed it to Bethany beside her.

A tear streamed down Maya’s face; it was so unfair, so painful to even think of. Maya could not help but feel that it should have been her. His arm wrapped so tightly and possessively around her waist, not Leah’s. Why not? Maya knew she had feelings for him, and he had all but admitted he was in love with her; not even Leah should have been able to stand in the way of that. But for the most unfair reason of all, that picture was of Leah, not Maya. Leah had been born a girl, and Maya had not. Maya could not get over the unfairness of that; she couldn’t even tell Tyler how she felt because she hadn’t been born female.

“I guess he finally gave up on Maya then,” Bethany said beside her, still trying to gauge Maya’s reaction.
“Yeah, I guess,” Maya replied, trying to keep the bitterness out of her tone as she took back the energy drink that they were sharing, her hands shaking as she did so.
Bethany didn’t press Maya over how she was feeling instead she wrapped the other girl in a comforting embrace.
“He is allowed to move on.” Maya tried to speak, but her voice shook, and it sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than anything else.
“My house tonight,” Bethany told her in a voice that was firm but not unkind and would back no disagreement.

---

“He is allowed to move on,” Maya said more hotly that evening once they were in the relative safety of Bethany’s room. But while more confident than it had sounded earlier in the day, it still did not sound like Maya truly believed those words.
“What?” Maya caught Bethany’s raised eyebrow.
“It’s not like I could tell him. You know that you have tried to convince me of that multiple times. It might have been a one-time thing with Leah anyway. Maybe he just wanted a hook-up. Maybe he hasn’t given up on Maya after all."
“You don’t really believe any of that, do you?” Bethany stated with a quiet perceptiveness that Maya often found infuriating at times like this.

“I can’t stand seeing them together. " Then more quietly. “I can’t stand seeing him with anyone.”
Bethany nodded sombrely and encouragingly. “I thought it was something like that.”
“Every time I see him with someone else, it's like someone took a knife, stabbed me with it an is twisting that knife in my guts.”
Bethany had a sympathetic look in her eyes as she admitted her friend. "You're in love with him.”
Maya dropped down heavily onto the bean bag, her head drooping into her hands as she did so, as if her head had suddenly grown so heavy that she couldn’t lift it up anymore.
“Yes, at least I think so, I don’t know when I started loving him, though; it seems like I have loved him for a while. Yet all of this feels so new.”
“I know,” Bethany told Maya quietly and comfortingly.
"I can’t tell him, Beth, I can’t tell anyone. Not just because of the Maya thing. He is my best friend. He is the only person who has stood by me no matter what. The only true friend I had for a long time. I can’t jeopardise that over some stupid little crush. I can’t let my feelings ruin that.”

“I get it,” Bethany seemed to be grappling with how to put something into words. “Sometimes, things are worth taking a leap of faith, for. I think now, maybe I erred when I told you not to tell Tyler. He is obviously very important to you. You need to decide whether he is worth risking everything over.”
Maya sat still for a few minutes, digesting everything Bethany had just said. Her heart was crying out in glee, but her head was rebelling and recoiling from the idea in fear.
“I’m scared.”
“I know, just don’t let it paralyse you.”
“I’m not brave like you."
"You’re a lot braver than you give yourself credit for; you showed him and everyone else who you truly are. They just didn’t recognise you.”