CHAPTER 10 -- Temper

I survived the week. I spoke to Teresa on the phone once, and texted her almost every night. I don't know what I wanted, maybe just to know that someone would talk to me and would return my texts.

I spent Saturday Christmas shopping. I went to a mall on the other side of town, to practice using the bus. It also had the advantage that I wasn't likely to see anyone from West High there. I wore the skirt with knee socks. I got called "miss" most of the time, but I ignored it. It was cold outside and, with just knee socks, my legs were numb by the time I got on the bus. Maybe tights weren't such a bad idea, after all.

I tried wearing tights the next day on my trip to Teresa's, and they were a lot warmer. I had to walk a mile from my house to the bus, wait for the bus, then walk a mile and a half to Teresa's. I was still cold, but it wasn't as bad as the day before.

When I got there, I went up to Teresa's room. We listened to music for a while, then Teresa asked me, "Martin, have you considered just living as a girl? Or at least trying it out.?"

"What do you mean?" I could feel the walls closing in on me. It seemed like everyone was calling me a girl, putting me down.

"It would be a lot easier. Maybe change schools and register as a girl. You'd still be the same person--"

I interrupted her. "What is this? Is everyone in league with the sex-change mad scientists? I'm a boy, dammit, but you and your aunt -- and the jerks in school -- you're all out to make me what I'm not. Like the guy in that story."

"Martin --" she protested, but I was really going now.

"Is that why you've been pretending to be nice to me? So you can get me to act like a girl? And maybe make fun of me then? You're trying to turn me into a giant cockroach! You and your aunt and uncle, you're all as bad as the kids at school!"

I was screaming now. And so was Teresa.

"You're awful!" she shouted. "You promised not to be mean to me and now you've broken your promise! You're just as bad as your brothers! I hate you! I never want to see you again!"

I could feel tears coming into my eyes. I grabbed my jacket and ran down the stairs and out the door. It was a lot colder, so I ran all the way to the bus stop. I only had to wait for about 10 minutes, so I didn't freeze.

By the time the bus had reached center city, my anger had cooled and I was beginning to feel like I'd been unfair. My accusations were ridiculous, I was just upset by the whole sex-change thing and had dumped it all on her. As we got closer to my stop, I was also realizing that I'd just driven away the only friend I had. By the time I reached my house, I felt like I was the one who was just as bad as the kids at school. I wanted to kill myself, I felt so bad.

In my room, I thought, well, you could at least apologize. Even if she never wants to see you again, at least you'll have done one halfway decent thing. I spent the rest of the afternoon writing a letter:

Dear Teresa,

I was wrong. I was unfair. Your suggestion was a a reasonable one, and I'm thinking it over, and even if I decide not to do it, I know you did it with the best intentions. I was just frustrated with lots of things, none of which are your fault, and I took it out on you. You've done nothing but good to me and I treated you like shit. I'm sorry. I don't deserve to have you forgive me, but I'll ask anyway. I'll do whatever you ask. But if you don't want to see me ever again, I'll understand. Whatever happens, I wish you the best. You deserve that much.

I went out and found a mailbox and mailed the letter. Then I came home and texted Teresa: "I was wrong. Please read letter."

At dinner, my dad asked Biff if he'd managed to get the boys to lay off of me.

"I tried, Dad. I really did. But they won't listen to me. Now they won't be my friends and they're harrassing me, too. I've almost gotten in a fight several times. I never realized what jerks -- total jerks -- they are. I'm not sorry for myself that they aren't my friends, but I'm sorry for Martin that I can't do anything for him."

My mom and dad got this empty look that really scared me. I think Biff and Pete were scared, too.

School was much harder to face now that I didn't have a friend in the world. I hoped Teresa would get the letter and at least know I didn't mean what I said. I didn't want to get my hopes up that she'd maybe forgive me. Monday, Tuesday went by. Wednesday night, I got a call. From Teresa.

"I got your letter," she said.

"I'm sorry I said those things to you. I was really a jerk. A total jerk."

"You were being a jerk, but I shouldn't have said what I did, either. I know you're under a lot of strain, and people who are under a lot of strain say things they don't really mean. I'll forgive you. But, please, try not to take things out on me. It really hurts when you do that."

"I promise. But I don't know how much my promise is worth now."

"It's okay. You made up for it with that letter. I have a lot of respect for a guy who'll admit he was wrong. One thing, though. You keep talking like being a girl is something horrible. But I'm a girl. Don't you think it's a little insulting to me, and my mom, and, well, all of us to act like it's the end of the world? Think about it."

I said I would.

"Now that we've got that out of the way, do you want to come over Saturday? I still need to do some Christmas shopping and would love to have company."

"I'd love to. I've taken care of my family, but I'd like to get stuff for your parents and I could use your advice."

The rest of the week of school was almost tolerable. Nothing had actually changed at school, but Teresa was back to being my friend.