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Author's Note: This is another shorter chapter. Every time I try to write longer ones, I just find the perfect spot to end the chapter. I'm sorry this is slow going and I'm afraid to say, its not getting any faster. Even now, I'm still stuck at only a pages into Ch.5. I know where I want to go with it but just don't have the push to get there. I'm seriously debating just pulling the whole thing but I need some impact. I've been told by a couple of people that this is my best story yet but I'm not sure I can keep it up :(.

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3.

The blaring of the alarm woke me up.

Groaning, I rolled over to take a swat at it, only to find it not in its usual spot.

Hey, who moved…

Oh right, I wasn’t home anymore.

Grumbling, I pushed myself up, ignoring the pink bedspread and flat sheet and stumbled across my bed. It was Mom’s idea to put the alarm far away. She told me this year I was going to get up on time from now on. Only a few days into 2019 and Mom was already making New Year’s resolutions for more. More grumbling got me out of bed and over to the far side of the room where the accursed thing sat on the desk. Shutting it off, I debated stumbling back to bed. It was six am after all, and my mother was a demon for setting the alarm that early, especially on a weekend. She wanted me to get used to getting up early again, though. My vacation waking habits were not to her liking.

With the dreaded morning invader silenced, I went about trying to sort out the rest of my morning.

My first order of business was taking a shower.

I found my desk light, turned it on, then stumbled toward the bedroom door, still half asleep. I was almost out of it when I remembered the room had its own bathroom. Turning around, I stumbled some more, this time over to the door I mistook as another closet yesterday. I nearly tripped over a box on my way, cursing. It was going to take some getting used to, especially navigating this place half awake. I hoped it would be easier with some of these boxes gone. The moving truck arrived late yesterday afternoon. Most of our stuff ended in the barn, but there were a few things that we needed. For me, it was my books. Allie couldn’t live without her computer. She had it set up before the movers even finished. She had taken to vlogging a couple of years ago and had quite the following. Personally, I thought most of her stuff was bitchy, but I guess she had a brain-dead audience.

Her last several videos had been about the move and how unhappy she was.

There was a lot of sympathy.

I’m not sure if people actually cared or if it was because she flashed her mostly male viewer-base her boobs whenever she could.

Yep, she was that KIND of vlogger.

Mom wasn’t thrilled about it, but at least she was happy that Allie had some kind of hobby. I think my lack of anything bothered Mom a lot. She tried everything to get me more active. It started after we moved to Arizona. At first it was to try and help get over losing Charlie. I think Mom thought if I got active in something and made new friends fast, I’d get over the one I left behind. That’s when Dad tried to insert himself into things too. Whereas Dad’s plan failed time and time again, Mom was making progress. She got me to take up skating again. In Duncan, Charlie and I used to go skating every weekend. They had this indoor ice arena that was really popular with all the local kids. I was happy to find out it was still there and still just as popular.

Mom found me a similar one after the move.

It worked for a while until she pushed it too far. Mom would never openly admit she missed skating because she didn’t want to prove Grandma right. So instead of pining over what she lost, she tried to substitute it. Allie was never interested. That meant Mom’s only hope was me. Unlike my sister, I showed some real talent for it. I used to love it when I was little, but as I got older and the boys started to realize I wasn’t a girl, things changed. It was never a problem here in Duncan, but in Phoenix, a boy figure skater was blood in the water. I stopped in sixth grade. Middle school was bad enough without the guys knowing you twirled around on the ice. When I stopped skating, the bullying stopped too. I went back to my books and the boys found something else to interest them.

By eighth grade, that interest shifted back toward me.

Hormones were starting to run high, and those guys who knew I was a boy, began to think they were mistaken, and, well, the insults started to turn into pick-up lines.

I figured dodging compliments was better than dodging fists, so I let it happen.

After a while, after so many rejections, it became a matter of pride for them.

All of them wanted to try and melt the “Ice Queen” as they called me.

Ironically, it's actually what they called me when they used to pick on me about figure skating.

Strange how that works.

It didn’t work out for them.

Just as trying to get me focused on something else didn’t work for Mom either.

Not even the therapist could break through to me.

Therapy was a different thing altogether though.

I shook my head, trying to dislodge those thoughts.

I was fairly awake now.

Wandering into the small bathroom, I found a sink, a toilet, and a shower. It wasn’t much to look at, but it was better than having to share with my sister. Back home, we only had two bathrooms. One was meant for my parents only. The other, I had to share with Allie. Say what you will about my sister, but she was a slob. She made a mess of every room she entered. She left her hair products and make-up lying about, never put her clothes in the hamper, left wet towels lying where she dropped them. She even left her feminine hygiene stuff sitting on the counter. That last bit really angered Mom. I couldn’t remember how many times she would yell at her for it. Allie would just shrug and say, “I keep forgetting Maddie’s not a girl,” which only angered Mom more.

I sighed in relief when I looked in the mirror.

I smiled a bit too.

This place was all mine.

I stared at myself in the mirror for a few moments. Most boys my age would be unhappy to see what I saw, but I wasn’t one of them. My face wasn’t manly, but everyone was different. I learned long ago to accept it and move on with my life. Was I envious of manlier men like my father? Sure. Did I want to be like them? Not really. Being like that seemed like a lot of hard work to me. They kept striving to impress people all the time, it must have been exhausting. Being me was easier as far as I was concerned. The only thing I had to deal with on a daily basis was people mistaking my gender. I didn’t go out of my way to hide it and generally ignored it when it happened. Like I said, most of them were harmless. Only a few wouldn’t take no for an answer, and sure, sometimes they pushed it, but they eventually gave up too. Something that a lot of men seem to forget is that women hold a lot of power. Not physically, but if a woman doesn’t want something, she generally wins. Sure there are plenty of men who can’t accept that, but unless they get violent, there isn’t a lot they can do about it. I’m not a woman, but given my circumstances, I felt like a kindred spirit to them in that way.

I might be small and girly, but I was in control.

I took that control to finish my morning routine.

After peeing and brushing my teeth, I got into the shower. Back home, I had to rush it because Allie was always up my ass to shower faster. Here, I could relax and take my time. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore my lack of muscles as I scrubbed myself down. Mom bought us all new products, and this body wash was amazing. It made my skin feel so soft and smooth. I showered for twenty minutes, then stepped out, grabbing a new towel. I wrapped it around my waist, then used another towel to take care of my hair. Having long hair might be a pain, but I wasn’t going to cut it. I know it caused me a great deal of unwanted attention, but hoods were an option at Duncan High.

I made sure it was fully dry before stepping back into the room.

My room.

Well, at least for a while anyway.

I found some fresh clothes in one of my boxes. I attempted to unpack it last night after the moving truck arrived, but I kept getting sidetracked. Besides, it's not like I had much room for clothes. Most of Mom’s old stuff was still in her drawers. When I told Grandma about it, she apologized. Mom also agreed she’d pack them away and store them in the attic with everything else. Of course mentioning the attic over dinner last night hadn’t sat well with Allie. She got pissed off and tried to convince me to swap rooms with her. Grandma reminded her that she was adamant that the “larger” room was to be hers and this was not open for debate any longer. She also winked at me when she did so.

Smirking at the thought of Allie’s temper tantrum, I finished getting dressed.

It wasn’t until I got my shoes on that I realized something was wrong with my pants. Sighing, I realized they were Allie’s. This wasn’t the first time. Though my sister was a couple of inches taller, she had short legs. Her body was all torso, which always pissed her off. Because of this reason though, we pretty much could fit into each other’s pants. Well, not that she ever made that mistake, but I did. All the time. It was a pretty easy mistake to do. We both liked straight-legged skinny jeans. Allie could usually tell mine from hers because she only wore designer labels. Me, I generally just wore whatever Mom bought me and left on my bed to put away. Thus why I never even bothered to look at the jeans.

I shrugged.

I already had my sneakers on, it was too late to change now.

Besides, Allie’s jeans were always more comfortable than mine.

I left the room, pulling my hair into a ponytail with a new hair thing. At the bottom of the stairs, I made a quick turn down the hall and found my mother and grandmother sitting at the kitchen table. Grandma’s kitchen was large; it had a great big bay window that let in loads of sun that matched well with its bright color scheme. All the appliances were new and shiny and the countertops looked brand-new, probably refinished in the last year or so. Grandma once told me she didn’t like to stand on tradition much. If something started to look out of date, she made sure to update it as quickly as possible. It's the reason why the house had gone through at least two renovations since she and Grandpa moved in here. My Great-Grandmother Ruth---Grandma’s mom---had done a fair share of updating too.

“Morning,” I said, trying to sound more chipper than I felt.

I was still not fully awake, even after the shower.

Mom and Grandma were nursing cups of coffee.

“You young things these days, all this internet and video games, it's no wonder you don’t get up before noon.”

“Oh, Maddie doesn’t play those games, Mom,” said my mother with a proud smile.

Grandma raised an eyebrow.

“It’s true,” I said, taking some milk out of the fridge.

I poured myself a glass, fixed myself a plate of breakfast and found an empty seat.

By habit, I pulled my legs underneath in the chair.

Mom playfully flipped my ponytail. “Don’t you usually wear it lower than that?”

Lower?

I reached up and touched it and shrugged. Apparently in my grogginess, I pulled my hair high on my head. More like a cheerleader than a rock star. I think I might have done it subconsciously. Yesterday, after lunch and getting myself sorted a a bit, I spent some time exploring Mom’s room. I noticed that in a lot of her pictures she wore her hair just like this. I did it without thinking.

“Well, I think it’s adorable,” said Grandma. “Just like his Mom.”

“Yes, something that every boy likes to hear,” said my mother, not happy with Grandma’s attempt at a compliment.

“I don’t mind,” I said quickly, trying to cut off the argument before it started.

Thankfully, we were interrupted by some commotion and the Morning Zombie came stumbling into the kitchen. She was groaning and everything. I watched as my sister barely registered us as she stumbled over to the counter and got some food. Allie was never a morning person and this morning was no different. She clearly decided food was more important than showering. Her hair was a mess, she was still wearing her typical shirt and short-shorts bed combo and I couldn’t remember the last time I saw her without makeup.

“Morning sweetie,” Grandma said, trying to engage her.

Allie said nothing as she dropped into a chair next to me.

“It’s no use Mom, Allison isn’t going to respond until she’s awake.”

Grandma raised an eyebrow. “She’s not awake now?”

“No,” Mom and I said at the same time.

It took my sister a bit, but eventually she acknowledged. Strangely, I all but predicted the first words out of her mouth:

“Are those my pants?”

I shrugged.

Mom looked and sighed. “Maddie, why didn’t you say anything?”

I shrugged again. “Pants are pants. Does it really matter?”

“Yes!” snapped my sister.

She grumbled through the rest of our morning meal, glaring at me whenever she could. I did my best to ignore the stares, not just from her either. Mom was giving me a strange one this morning. I knew what she was thinking because we’d been here before. Mom was concerned for me. She wasn’t a bigot, just a concerned parent. She was afraid for me. She was afraid of how people reacted when they saw me dressed the way I wasand looking the way I did. I don’t think Mom really grasped the situation though. The boys didn’t bully me. I tried to explain that to her. When I told her they asked me out all the time instead, I think she got concerned even more.

I knew that’s exactly what she was thinking about now.

I didn’t look like her son.

Especially this morning.

“You want me to change?” I finally asked, tired of the staring.

It took her a moment to reply. “Only if that’s what you want.”

I knew what she was doing.

It was shrink talk.

As soon as puberty started a year or so ago, Mom thought it might be a good idea for me to see a therapist. She tried to make it sound like it was no big deal, but it was. It wasn’t for me either. Sure, she tried to say it was for me to help me deal with things, but it was really for her benefit. It didn’t help that she sent me there under false pretenses too. She said she was concerned about my lack of social life. She was afraid I was depressed and wanted someone to help me work through my issues. In truth, what she was really afraid of is if I was depressed for other reasons. Mom thought she was being subtle about it but I knew what she really wanted to know. She thought I might be gay and was trying to go about asking in her own kind of way.

The therapist caught onto it really quick.

We had two sessions but after that all he wanted to do was speak to my mother.

It was clear that Mom needed to work through her issues more than I needed to work through mine.

It was also clear she needed more sessions.

“It’s fine, Mom. Like I said, clothes are just clothes. I’m not trying to make a statement. They were the first pants I picked up. I didn’t notice they were Allie’s until I had my shoes on...”

“Well, I for one can barely tell the difference,” interjected Grandma, coming to my defense. “All you kids these days wear your things so tight, it's a wonder that more boys don’t wear their sister’s pants.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Grandma.”

Mom and Allie sighed together.

“Well, you’re washing them after,” snapped my sister.

I shrugged.

I ended up washing most of her clothes anyway.

And so, the tone of the room shifted. The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. I wanted to say something, but when my mother and sister got like this, there was nothing I could do. Dad could always diffuse the situation; he was good at that kind of thing. He tended to reign in Mom and keep Allie from being such a bitch too. Sure, Dad wasn’t any happier about the way I looked, and sometimes accidentally dressed, but he didn’t make comments about it either. He respected me. He told me so a number of times. It was a strange thing with Dad. Sure, he wanted me to be his son and do father-and-son things with him, but he also told me if I wanted something else, then that was fine too. All that he ultimately cared about was that I was happy.

Grandma finally decided to end it.

“Well then,” she said, deciding a change of subject might be better. “What do you kids plan on doing today?”

I shrugged. “I have some more unpacking to do.”

“I was thinking about heading to the mall,” said my sister.

Of course she was.

“Now that sounds like a fantastic idea,” said Grandma cheerfully. “You don’t want to go too, Madison?”

I scoffed. “Not really my thing.”

It wasn’t either.

“Well, there are other things in town besides the mall you know, like the skating rink.”

Skating rink. I didn’t realize they still had one of those.

“I don’t skate anymore.”

Grandma frowned before shooting a glance at my mother.

Mom sighed. “The kids used to bully him...”

It took Grandma a moment before she responded again. “Well how about the library then?”

I perked up at that.

She smiled. “I thought that might grab your interest.”

Even Mom got in on it. “That works out well, too. I need to head to the office. It’s right near the library. I can drop Allie off at the mall, then leave Madison at the library, we can meet back up at the mall for lunch later. How does that sound?”

Allie scoffed. “Lame actually. I was hoping to take the car.”

Mom shook her head. “Sorry sweetie, I need it to run errands all morning.”

Grandma tried to help. “You could use your grandfather’s old pick up, that is, if you can drive stick?”

I laughed. “She can’t.”

Allie glared at me.

Dad tried to teach her to drive stick once with his truck, it was a disaster.

“Well then, it looks like I’m your chauffeur for the day. Take it or leave it?”

Allie scoffed and crossed her arms. “Fine.”

“Good,” Mom said with a smile. “We’ll leave as soon as we’re done here.”

The drive from the farm to the city took only fifteen minutes or so, especially without any traffic. The old country road we drove on was framed by trees on one side and grazing land on the other. I don’t think I’d ever seen that many cows in one spot before. Well, at least not for a long time. The only thing I didn’t like was the smell, especially since my sister insisted we drive with her window open. The fact that it was forty degrees outside and snowing didn’t bother her in the slightest. Me, I was in the back seat shivering. It was going to take me some time to get used to this weather.

“Weren’t you the one complaining about the cold, yesterday?”

She ignored me of course.

Thankfully the window wasn’t open for long.

Carson Galleria wasn’t exactly in Duncan, but just outside of it. According to Uncle Frank, it finished last year. Built on some of the farmland that Charlie’s father acquired. Much like the development we would eventually move into. Mr. Carson had the right idea, I guess. As much as I didn’t care for Uncle Frank, he made a lot of sense. The town did seem to be stuck in the past, and breathing new life back into it wasn’t a bad thing. I think the problem that my grandfather and other landowners had with it, was that Mr. Carson was buying up all the land. Land that had been in their families for centuries. He was bulldozing history and replacing it with large steel and glass structures that looked pretty but took away what made Duncan so great in the first place.

I looked out the window at the mall.

It was large and looked impressive. There were a lot of cars in the parking lot too.

The place was thriving.

I could see how my grandfather had been fighting a losing battle.

Mom didn’t bother pulling into a parking spot, instead dropping Allie off out front.

“Your brother and I will be back here by no later than two, meet us in the food court.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said my sister, waving us off.

Mom sighed as we watched her rush inside. “Sometimes I wonder about that girl.”

“Can I get into the front seat now?”

I didn’t wait for Mom to say yes before hopping out of the back and running around to the passenger seat. As soon as I got in, I rolled up the window.

Allie was crazy.

Mom turned the SUV around and drove us back to the city.

It didn’t take very long.

Like I mentioned before, Duncan wasn’t much of a city; if you could even call it that. Most anything of importance branched off from a main street which was central to the town. There were a few parks, a couple of churches and a lot of small, self-owned businesses. Most of those were, sadly, closed or going out of business thanks to the mall. It was sad to drive down the street and see all those signs. I tried to piece together this version of Duncan with the one from my memory, and it was hard. The only things that were the same to me were the larger buildings like the town hall, the library, and of course, the ice rink. Even that looked newer. Grandma told us last night it had recently had a remodel. The old building had been torn down, replaced with another large steel and glass structure, the central point of which was the large dome.

It was impressive to look at, especially in the center of town.

There were a lot of cars there too, which made me think it was probably the big teen hang out spot.

A small part of me was happy about that.

Another part of me was anxious too.

“So you want to go straight to the library or...” Mom asked, seeing where I was looking.

I knew what she was trying to do.

I’ll admit, I was very tempted.

I bit my lip.

On one hand, the library was my safe place. It was something Dr. Jones and I talked about in our last session. He wasn’t the least bit concerned that I wasn’t a social person. He said there were a lot of kids my age that had trouble making friends. He also told me to take my time and find a place where I could be safe. I was safe in my books. Back home, it was easy to go to the library and hide. Especially because Phoenix was a big city, definitely a lot bigger than Duncan. Before Dad died though, I made him a promise. I told him I would try to be more social and active. He said he didn’t want me to waste my life hiding away and not trying new things. He wasn’t trying to be cruel when he said it either.

It took me a while to understand though.

He didn’t want life to pass me by.

“I think,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I think I want to walk around for a bit if that’s ok.”

Ok, so small steps.

I didn’t retreat to the library right away, but I didn’t go running into the rink either. I wanted to work my way up to that. After all, the last time I stepped into an ice rink was before Dad got sick. I’m not sure if I was ready for that right away.

Baby steps.

“I think that sounds like a really good idea. A lot about this place has changed after all.”

Mom pulled the car up to the curb in front of a diner.

“You remember where Grandpa’s office is?”

“Around the corner, right?”

Mom smiled, she moved to ruffle my hair but stopped at the last minute. It was a shame really because I used to like it when Dad did that. An awkward silence quickly followed. Mom and I were in a strange place right now. She was convinced that I was the kind of kid who didn’t want to be seen with his mother in public, and who wanted to avoid public displays of parental affection. She actually had me confused with my sister. I wanted Mom to hug me, I wanted her to tell me she loved me. I wanted to feel like her son again, the one who she used to do all of these things with. Ever since going to Dr. Jones though, Mom stopped being that type of person. I think she blamed herself for what she thought was wrong with me.

It was stupid but I had no way to convince her otherwise.

She was just going to have to find that out on her own.

I gave her a weak smile. “I’ll meet you back here before two, right?”

Mom gave me a sad smile of her own. “Sure, honey. Have a good time.”

It was clear she wanted to hug me, and I wanted her to.

In the end though, I got out of the vehicle without either of us making the attempt.

A moment later, she drove away.

I sighed.

Was it ever going to be the same again?

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Anything critical you have to say, PLEASE do so in a PM. Pointing out people's flaws or mistakes in a comment is hurtful and NOT appreciated.Thanks in advance...EOF