I’m dying to ask who they mean, but I don’t. I’m positive it’s Nance.
Derek first told me about the surgery plans a few weeks into the semester. Now that it’s officially scheduled for this summer, we’ve been talking about it more and more. I’m actually pretty impressed Derek doesn’t talk about it every second of every day. That’s what I’d do.
I can’t imagine it, though. Top surgery is basically a double mastectomy. Afterward they reconstruct your chest to look like a guy’s. A cis guy’s.
It sounds so freeing. Not having to deal with binders. Not having all this extra stuff you don’t need hanging around on your chest.
Sometimes when I think about it, though, the idea freaks me out. Surgery. Getting cut open. Getting part of you cut off. Gone, forever.
There’s no turning back. No in-between. You get that done and you’re a guy. Poof.
Maybe that would be wonderful. Or maybe...
“Er, T?” Derek says. “You look kind of freaked.”
“Sorry.” I shake my head. “Just, you know. Thinking.”
Derek nods. “Being at a party like this will do that to you.”
I shrug.
Derek’s been certain about wanting surgery from day one. Since they were way younger than I am now.
Does that mean I’m not really trans, if I don’t have that same certainty? I want to try male pronouns. I think I do anyway. Maybe I shouldn’t, though. Not if I’m not 100 percent positive I really want to live as a guy forever and always.
The thing is, I know for certain that I don’t want people to see me as a girl. Shouldn’t I want to fix my body to match that? Shouldn’t I be sure?
Derek’s sure. Eli’s sure. Everyone but me seems to have everything figured out.
“So, do you want to go on testosterone, too?” Derek asks.
I knew that question was coming, but it’s still scary to hear it. I hate getting shots, but I guess it would be worth it if I really wanted hormones. If I was positive I wanted to do what Eli’s doing.
I give Derek my previously prepared nonanswer. “My parents pay for my health insurance. They see my doctor bills.”
“So do mine, but that doesn’t have to be a problem if you know how to work the system,” Derek says. “I can get you in to see my doctor. He’s a great therapist—he gave me T, plus he put me on some SSRIs that are way better than what I was taking before—you know, if you need those, which, hey, maybe you don’t. But the best part is, his office will help with the billing. That’s how I’m getting the top surgery this summer. I’m using the inheritance my great-grandfather left me. My doctor’s office will make sure my parents never see a single bill.”
This conversation is moving way too fast. Drugs. Surgery. It’s all so...official.
“I don’t know if I want to—um. Do anything. Physically, I mean,” I say. “For now, at least. I just had this idea for next summer, about the pronouns.”
“Like a test run.” Derek grins.
“Yeah.” Maybe I shouldn’t have brought this up. Derek seems awfully excited. “Maybe.”
“Uh-huh.” Derek coughs again. “You know, you don’t have to wait until summer to use the pronouns if you don’t want to. You could start by telling some people here in the States to start using them.”
Yeah, right.
“I think it’ll be easier to deal with in a different setting,” I say.
“Maybe. Also, this way you get out of having to discuss it with anyone close to you in your regular life.” Derek quirks an eyebrow.
“Stop analyzing,” I say. “I still haven’t completely made up my mind I want to do this at all. Besides, everyone close to me in my regular life already knows I’m trans. I mean, gender nonconforming. On the trans spectrum.”
“Really? Everyone?” They raise an eyebrow.
“Yeah.” I hate it when Derek doesn’t believe me. I’ve never once lied about any of this. “I’m just not that close to many people. Besides you guys, it’s only Gretchen. Oh, and my friend Chris at Yale. I haven’t told Chris yet, but I will. Soon.”
“You didn’t tell your other high school friends?” Derek asks.
I shake my head. “There was no one else I really wanted to tell.”
“It must’ve been weird, being trans and going to an all-girl school,” Derek says. “Being surrounded by hugely reinforced feminine gender norms.”
I shrug. “It didn’t really bother me. I mean, I’d never gone to a coed school at all until I came here, so I didn’t know any different. Maybe it, like, affected me subconsciously.”
Derek grins. “A subconscious devotion to blue plaid.”
“God, save me.” I grin back.
Derek nods, looking serious again. “I guess it goes without saying that no one in your family knows?”
“Oh, hell no. I’d be perfectly happy if my mother went to the grave without finding out, and now that I’m out of the house, I’m sure my dad’s forgotten I exist. Until it’s time to sign the next tuition check.”
“What about your sister? How old is she, again?”