Caleb doesn’t say anything else right away, he just keeps lingering beside my bed. It takes me a moment to realize he’s actually looking for an answer here.
I think on his question for a moment, though really, I think he’s asking two.
One, did I really fall down the stairs, or did something else happen?
Two, do I have a boyfriend?
Caleb doesn’t look at me, but he places my alarm clock back on the chair and reaches for one of my notebooks from last year.
“So?” he asks finally, flipping idly through my pages of math notes.
“Yes, I really fell down the stairs,” I say with a sigh. “I was at a party in a church, and I fell down the bell tower steps.”
“A party at a church?” he repeats, frowning, still not looking up at me.
“Uh, well, it was an abandoned church. It’s like the party spot.” I shrug. I don’t want to offer up any more information than that.
He nods thoughtfully, seemingly staring at a doodle of a sword in the margins of the page he’s on.
“And I don’t have a boyfriend,” I add.
His shoulders relax and he snaps the notebook shut. “I mean, I didn’t ask.”
“Sure.”
Caleb’s shit at hiding his emotions; I can tell he’s relieved. I turn back to my dresser and start digging some underwear out of it.
“And you’re sure that you’re only pretending to be a boy?”
I turn on my heel and fix him with a look that makes him squirm.
“I’m not trans, if that’s what you’re asking,” I say before turning back to the drawers. “I just need to pretend to be a boy to get through school.”
“I mean, there’s a guy in my criminal justice class,” Caleb says, “and he’s kind of—he wears, like, these chest binder things, and—”
“That’s really cool for him,” I say, cutting him short. “But I’m still very much a girl, Caleb. That hasn’t changed.” I feel my face flush. As much as my brothers can annoy me - and even bully me, it’s true—they sure seem supportive. I fully believe that if I actually was a transman they’d move right along with their lives with their little brother instead of sister. Hell, maybe they’d even prefer it.
But no such luck.
That conversation with Caleb is the end of it … especially once I mention to him that I’ve actually gotten to ride in an Aston Martin when he hasn’t so much as seen one in real life.
I spend the next couple of weeks getting relatively tortured by my brothers … especially when they find out I’m heading out for a couple days to attend a history conference. The conference itself only lasts for three days, but you’d think it lasted a lifetime from the way my brothers make fun of me about it when I come back.
Apparently pretending to be a boy is normal, but liking history is for nerds.
But still, their roughhousing is strangely nostalgic.
Caleb, Blake, and Mason are very physical. Mason’s tall and lanky, but he’s also wiry and strong. He likes to pick me up and throw me. Blake likes to hold me down so that someone else can tickle me or annoy the shit out of me. Caleb’s the same way. Spencer is more laid-back, and I’m sad when he has to leave way earlier than the other boys to go back to California.
“Can’t miss class,” he says, tugging on his UCLA sweatshirt.
My best friend in the house becomes the new dog, Taco. He’s a mutt from a shelter with floppy ears, and he’s sweet as can be. He takes to following me around and sleeping in my bed with me.
The last night before I leave, I lay in my bed with Taco snuggled up to my side and stare up at the ceiling. How are things going to be when I get back? Will they be normal?
What even is normal anymore?
I thought that I’d use this time here at the house to start to unpack the series of events that have occurred these last couple months, but instead, I’ve found myself just slipping back into the comfort and normalcy of my old life. But in truth, this isn’t normal for me anymore. This is the fantasy because, in just a few days, I’m going to have to return to Bleakwood.