“See you tomorrow!” Melissa giggles as she gives me, Cameron, Petra and Lydia a hug each as we head out of school and into the car park. Cameron takes her goodbye hugs next, then Petra, and finally Lydia turns to me with a devilish grin and gives me a long, soft kiss on my lips, which attracts a lot of attention and good-natured jeering from nearby students and a lot of disapproving stares from nearby teachers!

“And I’ll see YOU later!” Lydia giggles, giving me another kiss before skipping off to her parents’ car. I grin and wave as her father drives her away, before happily heading to my own father’s car, where Bryony is already waiting on the back seat.

“You took your time,” my twelve-year-old sister snorts as I sit down on the front passenger seat, straightening my short grey skirt before fastening my seatbelt.

“Good day at school, then?” Dad asks.

“Meh, it was okay,” I shrug as I get my phone out of my pocket and switch it back on.

“Well, try to enjoy them while you can,” dad advises. “Six weeks from now, they’ll be all over bar your exams.”

“Umm, I AM going to sixth form college?” I remind my father. “That’s basically school, only with no uniform, no detentions, no boring subjects… Why would I treasure school over that?”

“Lydia?” Bryony asks, making dad laugh and me roll my eyes.

“She’s going to the same college I am in September,” I remind my sister. “Probably.”

“I know you think you’ll enjoy college more,” dad says, “but trust me, you’ll be really nostalgic for your school days when you’re older. Not least because, well, you know…”

“It was where I first became who I really am?” I ask, smiling as dad nods. “Yeah, I guess there is THAT.” And it is true- the first time I presented ‘girl Ashley’ to the world, it was wearing a school uniform. And while the reaction to ‘girl Ashley’ may not have been entirely positive, the fact is that I’m still sat here wearing the same blouse, skirt and tights as every other girl in the school. However, it’s also a fact that me being able to wear this uniform at all, let alone in public, is thanks to friends who aren’t at this school anymore- friends I’ll no doubt remember more fondly than Melissa, Cameron or Petra- or even more fondly than Lydia…

Not that I’ve had the chance to make any fond memories over the last two months, though. Ever since we started dating, nearly every free second I’ve had has been spent either chatting with Lydia online, on the phone or face-to-face, and in the latter case we rarely do much ‘chatting’ as our mouths are usually too preoccupied to do any talking. We hung out with Melissa, Cameron and Petra a lot as well, of course, especially at Lydia’s birthday party two weeks ago, but we spent just as much time, if not more, by ourselves- such as after Lydia’s birthday party. The only time I hung out with the rest of Excellent Eight at all was at the end of February when Lydia was ill with the flu and even then, I felt like I didn’t fit in with them- though this could well be due to me missing both Harriet and Nicole's birthday parties to spend time with Lydia. And yet, rarely does a day, or even an hour go by when I don’t think of the girls, how they're doing, what they're doing… They barely even include me in their Facebook group chats anymore.

Though with all that being said, it’s not just my personal life that’s been busy, as dad implied just now. School coming to an end also means that my exams are just around the corner, and I’m spending every second I can studying and revising- well, every second that Lydia can spare me, anyway. When I’m not revising (or even sometimes, while I’m revising), I’m also working on my physical flexibility, as this is the time of year that girls of 15 or 16- which includes me- audition for a place in Ms Fullerton’s elite ballet class, and the name ‘elite’ is not an exaggeration. Last year, Laura, Suri, Mia and Nicole all auditioned, and none of them passed, so I doubt I’ll have any chance either, but like my great-grandmother Hazel often says, you won’t know if you don’t try. That said, though, I haven’t officially put my name forward for an audition yet, not least because auditions are always held in front of the rest of the class. Nonetheless, being extra-flexible isn't a bad thing- Lydia definitely approves, for starters!

Something that’s proved when I open up Facebook messenger on my phone to discover that despite the fact we only saw each other a few minutes ago, Lydia has already sent me a barrage of ‘kissing’ emojis.

‘Hey babe!’ I reply, along with several ‘kissing’ emojis of my own. ‘Long time no talk lol!’

‘Too long,’ Lydia replies with a ‘hugging’ emoji. ‘What you got planned tonight?’

‘Studying, studying and maybe some studying too,’ I reply with a ‘yawning’ emoji that earns a ‘giggling’ one in reply from my girlfriend.

‘I know the feeling,’ Lydia replies. ‘Gonna be SO awesome when exams are done and we can have the whole summer to ourselves!’

‘Yep!’ I type. ‘But there’s always this weekend…’ The ‘winking’ emoji I use to punctuate my message gets another ‘giggling’ one in response.

‘Can’t wait!’ Lydia types. ‘And can’t wait for FriYAY either!’

‘Me too!’ I reply with a ‘cheering’ emoji.

‘But only because I get to see you in a cheerleader uniform,’ Lydia types with a ‘winking’ emoji that makes me giggle and squirm excitedly in my seat- for the first time ever, I'm more excited by the prospect of someone seeing me in my uniform than I am by the uniform itself.

‘You should come to ballet class,’ I type. ‘Then you’ll get to see me in a leotard as well!’

‘Tease,’ Lydia types with a ‘sticking out tongue’ emoji. A few seconds later, dad’s car pulls into the primary school of my two younger sisters, who both giggle excitedly as they pile onto the back seat of the car- the reason for their excitement being the same as Lydia’s just now!

“Ballet night! Ballet night!” Cassie and Dorothy both cheer as they fasten their seatbelts.

“Yes, okay, girls!” Dad says, trying futilely to settle the young girls down as we set off. “You don’t want to wear yourselves out before you even get to your dance class, do you?”

“Like that’s ever going to happen?” Bryony asks, rolling her eyes as Cassie sticks her tongue out at her.

“Is your friend Daisy’s mum picking you up tonight?” Dad asks.

“Yep!” Cassie squeaks in reply. “And she’ll be bringing us back too. Miss Fullerton says me and Daisy might get a good role in the Daft Punk ballet over summer, and she says we might join the intermediate class a year early, not just because we’re both born in October but because we’re both really good at ballet too!”

“MS Fullerton,” I remind my sister, who giggles and sighs. “She’s been married almost a year now.”

“Will you be Ms Moore when you marry Lydia, Ashley?” Dorothy innocently asks, making me sigh happily both at the thought of my girlfriend and at the knowledge that at the age of six, Dorothy is still too innocent to know about what me and Lydia get up to. Though she does at least know all about and unquestioningly accept the idea of same-sex marriage- something that puts her ahead a lot of many so-called adults.

“We’ll have to see about that,” I reply, earning a smirk from dad and Bryony as we head back home.

Once we’re home, Cassie and Dorothy waste no time in racing upstairs to change into their ballet uniform, while Bryony and I head up to our bedroom to change out of our uniforms.

“Just think, my sister,” I tease as I hang up my school skirt and blazer. “One day, all of this will be yours!”

“Yay, can’t wait,” Bryony sarcastically snorts. “Nothing like your sister’s old uniform to make you popular at school.”

“…Especially when that sister used to be a brother?” I ask hesitantly, biting my lip as Bryony frowns- the last thing I want to do is make her feel guilty.

“You know I don’t think THAT,” Bryony snorts.

“I know, I know,” I whisper. “It’s just that, you know, Sabrina wears her sister’s old uniform, doesn’t she?”

“…I think so,” Bryony mumbles. “Ah- and so does Lily, and as her sister is Laura that means-“

“Yes, yes, I know,” I chuckle. “How- how about Lucy’s sister?”

“I dunno,” Bryony shrugs. “Maybe. It’s not something we really talk about that much.”

“Meh, I get that,” I say as I pull on a comfortable long-sleeved top, a short denim skirt and a pair of warm black leggings. “What do you girls talk about, I mean, at your table at break and lunch?”

“Why do you care?” Bryony asks with a sneer that makes me frown.

“I’m just interested, that’s all,” I reply. “Want to make sure our old table’s being properly looked after, I have a lot of good memories that involve that table.”

“And…?” Bryony asks, making me frown even deeper. Why does she have to be so intelligent? I think to myself.

“…And I still don’t know why Lucy was kicked out of our group,” I sigh. “And ‘cause she sits with you now at break and lunch, I thought-“

“Yeah, well, we don’t know either,” Bryony says. “I even asked Jo, like you wanted, but she has no idea. Maybe she looked at your boss Melissa’s boyfriend funny or something.”

“Melissa’s not my ‘boss’, she’s my friend,” I retort.

“Yeah, sure she is,” Bryony scoffs, making me frown yet again. “Still, at least she won’t be mad at you wanting to steal her boyfriend, heh.”

“Well, that’s true,” I shrug as we head back downstairs. Though god knows that even though I don't have to worry about that, there are still thousands of other things I have to worry about when I'm around Melissa...

After dinner, I retreat back to my bedroom to revise, though I’m continually interrupted by my phone. Not because of any incoming notifications, but because I’m constantly checking it to relax whenever it feels like my brain is about to explode. With Lydia being in the same position as me when it comes to studying, she unsurprisingly remains quiet all night, which I knew about in advance, but I still check my phone for new messages anyway. It takes a while before I realise that what I’m waiting for isn’t a message from Lydia, but from Laura, Suri or the rest of the excellent eight.

At the start of year 11, even though (or maybe because) they were no longer at the same school as me, or the same college as each other, all of the girls would have a long group chat in the evening to catch up, to which I’d always be invited, even though I was rarely able to get a word in edgeways. Since Christmas, these invitations have been less and less frequent, and when I check messenger, I see that the last time I spoke to any of the girls was over a week ago. Though I can’t say I blame them for not inviting me to the chat- it’s not like they’d have any reason to chat with me, seeing how I've missed two birthday parties and counting so far. Even though I may not be a member of the excellent eight anymore, I doubt I'll ever not miss them- after all, they were the first to accept me for who I truly am…

My phone’s alarm wakes me and Bryony up at 7am the following morning, and like clockwork, I and my sisters go through our morning routines of eating breakfast, brushing our teeth and getting dressed in our uniforms. After we each give Eddy and Felicity a kiss goodbye, the four of us head out to dad’s car and we’re soon en route to our schools- though at least one of my sisters has her mind on a different kind of school.

“What will you be doing tonight at ballet, Ashley?” Cassie excitedly asks me. “Will you be rehearsing for the recital?”

“You were literally at your ballet class what, twelve hours ago?” I retort. “You didn’t get enough of it last night? Never mind, silly question.”

“Yep!” Cassie says with a smug grin. “So…?”

“…I’m not sure yet, probably rehearsals,” I reply.

“Bryony…?” Cassie asks, making me smirk as my sister audibly rolls her eyes.

“If Ash doesn’t know, I’m not going to, am I?” Bryony sighs.

“I’m still going to ask anyway,” Cassie says in a teasingly sweet voice, unfazed by our sister’s irritation.

Fortunately for Bryony’s frustration levels, the car arrives at Cassie and Dorothy’s primary school a short while later, and a few minutes later, the two of us are dropped off to start the final day of the school week. As usual, none of the girls greet me at the school gate- not even Lydia, but I am greeted by the one friend who's been a constant presence in my life.

“Alright, mate?” George asks with an oddly wide grin on his face as we head to form.

“Yeah, you?” I reply with a confused look.

“Yep!” George chuckles. “Just, you know, looking forward to tomorrow?”

“What, Saturday?” I chuckle. “Who isn’t?”

“No, the party?” George asks, clearly confused that I don’t know what he’s referring to.

“Umm, what party?” I ask. “Who’s holding it?”

“…Meg,” George says, not just confused, but concerned that I didn't know. “You know, her birthday?”

“It- it’s her birthday tomorrow?” I ask. How have I forgotten about that? Even worse, why did I never hear about the party until now?

“Umm, no, it was her birthday on Tuesday,” George replies. “Did- didn’t you know this?”

“Yeah, of course,” I blatantly lie as it suddenly starts to dawn on me that it’s not just the nightly chats that the excellent eight are excluding me from. Even though I didn’t go to Harriet or Nicole’s parties, I was still invited to them. For Megan to not invite me to hers, especially when I’m best friends with her boyfriend, makes my mind race and my heart break. Do they think I wouldn’t want to come to the party? Have they just forgotten about me? Do they think that because I’m still fifteen, I’m too young to attend? Or worst of all, do they simply hate me…

“…You okay?” George asks, frowning with confusion and concern.

“Hmm?” I say as my train of thought derails. “Oh, umm, yeah, just- you know, hormones…”

“I thought you couldn’t have those until you were sixteen?” George asks.

“Well- the hormone blockers, then,” I sigh. “Either way, a lack of testosterone sort of thing.”

“Huh, okay,” George shrugs as we take our seats and wait for Mr Jackson to start the day.

The first two lessons of the day pass by quickly, and once the bell rings to signify the start of break, I head straight to our spot next to the sports hall. However, my route takes me past my old table, the table I shared for years with the rest of the excellent eight, and I can’t help but feel guilty. This time last year, the eight of us- well, seven, as Priya had already left school by that point- would’ve been deep in discussion about Megan’s party. Today, though, the table belongs to my sister and her friends, and while I don’t know what they’ll be talking about, it’s a safe bet they won’t be talking about Megan’s birthday. Lucy certainly won't, judging by the angry glare she shoots me as I pass the table en route to the sports hall.

Fortunately, when I arrive at my usual spot, my mood immediately improves when Lydia gives me a long kiss and a playful pinch of my backside!

“Hey babe!” Lydia coos, giving me a kiss and my backside a stealthy pinch before I sit down.

“Hey girls!” I giggle, before fidgeting in my seat to get comfortable so that my next question sounds as genuine as possible. “Ahh… Everyone looking forward to the weekend, then?”

“Duh!” Cameron replies, triggering a giggle from all of us. “Even if it is my stupid little sister’s birthday so my parents are making me stay in for that.”

“Oh, poor you,” I tease. “Only having to do that once per year instead of five times!” As always, when I make a joke in this group, I find myself biting my lip, hoping that this didn’t cause too much offence. After a brief pause, though, I let out a quiet sigh of relief when Melissa giggles and Cameron rolls her eyes at me.

“Yes, yes, OKAY,” Cameron sighs, before giggling herself. “Just because you two are gonna spend all weekend glued to each other!”

“Yep!” Lydia says with a smug grin as she links her fingers with mine. “Just the two of us, hehe!” I grin along with my girlfriend, even though inside, I feel even more conflicted. It should go without saying that the reason I didn’t go to Nicole's party is because Lydia didn’t want us to go- or rather, didn’t want ME to go. And as flattering as it is to have an attractive girl want me all to herself, it’s causing me a lot of stress I really don’t need right now…

“It’s also, umm, Megan’s birthday at the weekend,” I say, once again biting my lip, though this time, it looks like I HAVE caused offence. “Umm, Megan… Cartman? You know, umm, head girl last year…” I bite my lip and try not to blush as the other girls all sneer at me- Melissa isn’t shy about her opinion of prefects, particularly heard boys and girls- or, for that matter, anyone given a position that she perceives as somehow above her.

“Ugh, HER,” Melissa eventually spits. “Yeah, ‘Cartman’s the right surname for her.”

“Respect her head girl autoritahhhh!” Cameron sarcastically snorts. “What a total waste, George Dixon going out with someone like HER.”

“Though he’s hardly any better,” Melissa snorts as I start to feel VERY uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, Ash, I know he’s your friend, but- ugh.”

“Umm… Okay…” I mumble, frowning as Lydia’s fingers slowly unlink from mine.

"You don't actually LIKE him, do you?" My girlfriend asks with a sneer, making it clear that there is only one right answer to the question

“I mean, for starters, he is a TOTAL nerd,” Cameron says.

“Does he not play basketball on the team?” Petra asks.

“Don’t let that fool you,” Melissa scoffs. “Total nerd. I mean, he’s a PREFECT, for god’s sake. And- get this- he used to go to ballet class.”

“Umm, so do we?” Petra asks.

“Yeah, but we’re girls,” Melissa shrugs. “And yes, Ashley, that includes you, I know you went too, back when you were a boy, but that was ‘cause, you know, you wanted to be a girl back then, right?”

“Yeah,” I say, trying not to frown at the half-truth- getting to hang out with Laura and the other girls was another major reason I went.

“And I mean, George never has, has he?” Melissa asks. “Wanted to be a girl, I mean?”

“Eww!” Lydia sneers. “Thanks for putting me off my lunch with THAT thought, Mel!”

“Sorry,” Melissa shrugs, before continuing to stare at me, obviously expecting an answer to my question.

“…He’s never said anything,” I mumble. “Well- not to me, anyway…” Way to implicate your best friend, I think to myself.

“Never even wanted to wear one of your skirts?” Cameron asks, making my heart start to race as I remember the one time Megan and I coerced George into trying on our clothes- and the fact that a pair of tights somehow went missing immediately afterwards...

“…No,” I lie. “You’re kind- kinda making me a bit uncomfortable, talking about George?”

“Okay, fine, be like that,” Melissa sneers dismissively as the topic of conversation thankfully moves on to something completely unrelated.

However, I can’t help but frown for the rest of break as the five of us gossip- I know consciously that George isn’t the coolest boy in school, far from it, but to hear the girls slag him off like that makes me cringe- that could very easily be me if I ever say or do anything wrong. Sometimes I wonder if I have any real friends at all…

As I head to my next lesson, however, I am at least given one glimmer of hope when Petra walks up alongside me.

“For what it’s worth,” the raven-haired Polish girl says, “I think George is okay.” I smile at my friend as she heads off to her next lesson, and I can’t help but wonder how different things would be if the rest of the Excellent Eight had got to know her as well as I have.

Thankfully, when lunch rolls around there’s no opportunity to be mean about George, or anyone else for that matter, as I (along with Melissa, Cameron and Petra) change into our cheerleader uniforms and spend the entire 45 minutes dancing and whooping for our school teams. Naturally, Lydia shows up to watch, and as I rehearse the dances, I make sure to maintain eye contact with her, letting her know that the cheers are as much for her as they are for the football or cricket teams. And, of course, that I can’t wait for the day to end and the weekend to start- even if I am still conflicted about my friend’s party…

As it’s Friday afternoon, though, and despite my exertions over lunch, the last lesson of the day takes what feels like forever. Eventually, though, the day (and the week) comes to an end and I head out to dad’s waiting car- though not before giving Lydia her traditional goodbye kiss, of course!

“Afternoon,” dad says as I slide onto the passenger seat of the car and immediately get my phone out of my bag. “Hi dad, nice to see you…”

“Hi,” I say, earning an eye roll from dad and a snort of laughter from Bryony on the seat behind me.

“What time will you be going round to your girlfriend’s tomorrow?” Dad asks. “I am right in assuming that’s where you’ll be spending most of the weekend?” Well- that IS the question, I think to myself.

“Haven’t decided yet,” I shrug. Haven’t even decided IF I’m going to Lydia’s, I think to myself self-pityingly.

“Fair enough then,” dad sighs. “I’m sure you remember, but just in case-“

“Yeah, I know,” I say. “No having Lydia at our house if any of my siblings are around.”

“And even then, not in our bedroom,” Bryony snorts.

“Either way, kinda difficult with Felicity only being a few months old, but okay,” I shrug.

“Yes,” dad says in a smug voice that makes me roll my eyes. “Yes it is.” I sigh and shake my head at my dad’s attitude- he’s not shy (and neither is mum) about the fact that he doesn’t approve of Lydia, and he especially doesn’t approve of my spending time alone with her. Then again, he had the same attitude about the excellent eight- at first, anyway, and he eventually relented there, and is slowly coming around about Melissa and the rest of her gang as well. After today, though, I can’t help but wonder whether or not dad has a point about them…

After picking up Cassie and Dorothy, we head straight home, where after a quick dinner, Bryony and I head upstairs to change into the pink tights and black leotards that we’re required to wear for the evening ahead. A short while later, we’re back in dad’s car, and soon after that we’re pulling up outside the Krystie Fullerton School of Dance. When I head inside, I immediately seek out Melissa, but when I spot her in her usual corner, I'm surprised to see that she's not alone.

“Hey babe!” Lydia coos, standing up and giving me a long, deep kiss that attracts a lot of attention from the other students (and a lot of disapproving stares from their parents).

“Hey you!” I reply with an excited squeak. “What are you doing here?”

“What, I need an excuse to watch my sexy girlfriend wrapped in skin-tight lycra?” I giggle and left out a quiet yelp as Lydia gives my right buttock a stealthy pinch, though this makes the nearby parents scowl even more- and attracts even more unwanted attention.

“Miss Moore,” Ms Fullerton says with a disapproving look in her eyes but a slight smirk on her lips. “You DO remember the school’s policy on public displays of affection, don’t you?”

“Ah, I- umm, yeah,” I mumble, my cheeks flushing as Lydia gives my buttock another pinch. “Sorry…”

“Just make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Ms Fullerton giggles before extending a hand to my girlfriend. “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met, I’m Krystie Fullerton.”

“Yeah, I- I know who you are!” Lydia says, almost bouncing up and down with excitement. “I LOVE your show, hehe! I’ve got all your DVDs, I follow all your Instagrams…”

“Thanks,” Ms Fullerton replies with a professional-looking smile. “Always nice to meet a fan, heh. Though tonight I’m less ‘Angel’ and more ‘teacher’, so I’d better get the class started- unless you’re here because you want to pull on a pair of pink tights as well?”

“Ah- no,” Lydia replies. “I mean, I’d LOVE to, really, but I did ballet until I was thirteen, and my doctor says I have, like, bad bone density or something so-“

“So they won’t let you dance en pointe,” Ms Fullerton says sympathetically. “That is a pity. Still, I’m sure Ashley will appreciate a cheerleader today.”

“Well, I owe her after lunch today,” Lydia replies as we share a private giggle over the 'cheer' Melissa, Cameron, Petra and I performed for Lydia after cheer club (which, naturally, excluded Lucy and poor Allie Gresham).

“I- I’m sure I don’t want to know anything more,” Ms Fullerton says with a chuckle. “Just take a seat by the side of the class and turn your phone either to silent or off, please.”

“Okay,” Lydia says, taking her phone out of her bag and preparing to switch it to silent, before an excited look spreads across her face.

“…Yes, you can have a selfie,” Ms Fullerton says, posing with my girlfriend for the photo before ushering me and the rest of the class into the studio and to the barre, where we begin our warm-ups.

As I warm up, I can’t help but glance over at Lydia, who’s engrossed in her phone- no doubt editing and uploading her selfie with Ms Fullerton. I can’t help but feel slightly jealous that Lydia seemingly forgets all about me when she meets a celebrity, though under the circumstances, I can’t say I blame her. I’m reminded of when I first made friends with Melissa, though, and the feeling- that hasn't gone away- that she sees herself more as 'friend of a friend of Jamie-Lee Burke' than 'friend of Ashley Moore'. I’m sure, though, that if Lydia was only cared about meeting Angels, she wouldn’t be so touchy-feely with me. I hope this is the case, anyway…

After our warm-ups are over, we’re split into two groups, with me and the other 15-16-year olds in one group and the younger girls in the other. While the other group practises their arabesques, our group is instructed to change our soft ballet slippers for pointe shoes, and a quick glance at the corner of the room reveals the reason for this departure from the norm- namely two very lean, strong young men in form-fitting dancewear. Needless to say, this makes a lot of my fellow students VERY excited.

“Ooh, it’s pas de deux day!” Melissa excitedly squeaks as she drinks in the sight of the two male dancers. “Makes sense, it IS a big part of the elite audition, after all.”

“Yeah,” I say. I should explain that the two male dancers are themselves from the elite class- our 'advanced' class currently has no regular male dancers. And I should know- I was one of the last ones...

“Oh- come on…” Melissa sighs. “I know YOU don’t like it, but some of us like being handled by fit boys, you know?”

“I never said I hated it,” I retort. “Where would be the problem if I liked it, anyway? Girls dance with boys all the time, don’t they?”

“Well- if you say so,” Melissa shrugs. What does she mean by this? I think to myself. “Come on, don’t want to keep the other boys waiting, hehe!” And what does she mean by THAT? I think to myself as I also can’t help but also notice that Melissa is extremely eager to dance with the two young men, when earlier today, she was mocking George for 'dancing while male'…

“Okay,” Ms Fullerton says as she further splits our group. “First we’ll practice fouettes. Jennifer- you dance with Jack. Ashley- you dance with Thomas.” I nod as I step toward my partner and balance en pointe as he places his hands on my hips. As he spins me around and I elegantly kick my leg out to the side, I can't help but be distracted by Melissa's words. As natural as it is for a girl to dance with a boy, what I'm doing now still feels awkward to me- not least when we perform a few more steps from the audition routine, steps that involve Thomas holding me aloft for several seconds at a time.

What got the most about what Melissa said was the way she said ‘other’ boys. ‘Other’. Maybe it was a slip of the tongue- god knows I’ve had to put up with a few of those from my parents or my sisters. I always put those down to the fact that I never changed my name when I started transitioning- ‘Ashley’ is as much a girl’s name as it is a boy’s name, if not more so, and I do definitely want to keep to the ‘theme naming’ my parents have for me and my siblings. Maybe it’s the same for Melissa too, but something about this particular ‘slip of the tongue’ makes me feel uncomfortable. Though 'feeling uncomfortable' is par for the course when you're friends with someone like Melissa.

“Okay, that was good!” Thomas says as he places me back down on my feet. “You’re really well-balanced, but you need to watch your arm placement a bit more, you were getting a bit, you know, squirmy toward the end.”

“Thanks,” I reply with a giggle as I straighten my leotard, before being gripped with a feeling of awkwardness- I sometimes forget that when a girl giggles at a boy, it can sometimes- well, more often than not be taken the wrong way. I bite my lip as I glance over at Lydia in the audience, but much to my surprise, she doesn’t have a look of jealousy in her eyes- if anything, she seems more aroused than usual at the sight of me dancing with a boy. Either that or she’s looking at Thomas…

As I head to the back of the ‘queue’, I rack my brains trying to figure out why exactly I’m feeling so paranoid today. Melissa and Lydia both like me, after all. Neither of them have any problems with me being a girl, or having me in their home- certainly not Lydia, anyway. So why am I so uncomfortable around them, and has this feeling only worsened since I started seeing Lydia?

Fortunately, the rest of the lesson keeps me on my toes- literally- enough to take my mind off of things, and once it’s ended, I and the other girls head back to the changing room, where I waste no time in freeing my aching toes from my pointe shoes and pulling my comfy pink converse trainers back on. As I’m lacing up the shoes, I sense a familiar slender blonde-haired girl sit down next to me, though when I turn to face her, I discover to my surprise that it’s not my girlfriend, but rather my sister.

“Oh- umm, hi Bryony,” I say.

“Hi Ash,” Bryony replies as she begins untying her own pointe shoes.

“Why aren’t you sitting with Sabrina and the others?” I ask.

“Yeah, it’s nice sitting with you too for a change,” Bryony snorts. “Ash… A- a couple of the girls were, umm, they overheard something that- umm, that you might, well, not like…” I stare at my sister in confusion as her cheeks start to redden- she’s not normally this evasive when she’s talking to me, quite the opposite, usually.

“…Which is?” I ask.

“They said that- that Lydia and Melissa were talking about you,” Bryony says. “Behind your back. They weren’t saying nice things.” I blink as I try to process what Bryony’s saying- she’s never been fond of Lydia, same as my other sisters, but it just wouldn’t be like her to make something like this up. But Melissa wouldn’t slag me off behind my back, and Lydia certainly wouldn’t… So why am I having a hard time disbelieving my sister?

As I open my mouth to reply, I can’t help but picture Lucy's current situation. Ostracised for god knows what reason and Melissa’s favourite verbal punching bag when less than 24 hours beforehand she was one of her best friends. From what I can tell, the same applies for Allie as well, and could just as easily happen to me if I ever so much as put a word wrong… But then again, Melissa IS the most popular girl in school, she’s effectively entitled to choose who she wants to be friends with. Well, for the next six weeks, anyway, until we leave school. But she CHOSE to be friends with me. Lydia CHOSE to be my girlfriend. Why would they now slag me off behind my back if they’re supposed to be my friends? Even if we do spend a lot of our free time slagging off half of the school- including George…

Melissa and her gang do seem to spend a lot of their time- most of OUR time- slagging off the other kids in school they- WE- consider less cool than us. And while we weren’t above the odd bit of gossip, the Excellent Eight were never as nasty as we were to George today. I shouldn’t really complain, though- before being part of Melissa’s gang god knows I was on the receiving end of it more often than not. I’m more than overdue my ‘turn’ as the cool kid in school, and I’m definitely more than overdue a real girlfriend too. Considering the things Lydia has said- and done- to me in private, I refuse to believe she’d slag me off behind my back, especially to one of my best friends. My sister is mistaken- or straight-up lying. Melissa IS my friend. I think so, anyway...

Bryony DID say, though, that she didn’t hear them herself, that it was someone else who told her what they heard, so this information isn’t just second-hand, it’s third hand. No doubt some other younger kid trying to wind me and Bryony up just for their own twisted fun.

“They’re probably just taking the piss,” I snort.

“What, Melissa and Lydia?” Bryony asks.

“Uh- no,” I reply in an unintentionally condescending tone that makes my sister frown. “Whoever told you that. You didn’t hear it yourself, did you?”

“Well-, no,” Bryony mumbles, her cheeks reddening with shame. “It- it was Sabrina who told me.” Bryony’s best friend, who also happens to be the younger sister of one of my closest friends too. Well, sister of a fellow member of the Excellent Eight. Assuming I even count as a member anymore…

“Well- well Sabrina’s probably just playing a prank on you,” I shrug, making Bryony look even more miserable at the prospect of Sabrina treating her- well, treating her like Melissa supposedly treats me… “Come on. I’ll show you.” I smile confidently as I finish lacing up my trainers and pull back on the short purple dress I wore to dance class today, before heading over to where Melissa is sat in her usual corner, chatting away with my girlfriend. Both girls grin as I approach, which should settle my nerves about Bryony’s lies, but for some reason makes me feel even more tense…

“Hey Ash!” Lydia purrs as she leaves up and gives me a kiss (as well as giving my backside a playful pinch). “You looked SO hot out there!”

“What, even when I was being thrown around by the boys?” I ask, remembering my girlfriend’s odd look from earlier.

“ESPECIALLY then,” Lydia giggles. “Even if I was jealous.”

“Who of, me or Thomas?” I ask, earning a confused look from my girlfriend.

“Umm, Thomas, of course,” Lydia replies. “What’s this all about, anyway?”

“It- ugh, this’ll sound silly,” I chuckle. “My- my sister says someone told her they overheard you and Melissa- well, having a go at me… I know, it sounds stupid, right?” Much to my dismay, rather than laughing it off, Lydia suddenly gets defensive.

“We- we were talking about the other transgendered girl,” Lydia says. “Laura or whatever her name is.”

“Yeah,” Melissa concurs, shooting an angry look at my sister that makes both Bryony and me squirm. “We were just saying how you were a much better dancer than her.” Which I’m not, but okay, I think to myself.

“Yeah,” Lydia says. “Like, she TOTALLY sucks. Literally, too. Like, my brother’s girlfriend goes to the same college as her, and ever since she split from her boyfriend, she’s, like, shagged ALL the boys in the college.”

“W- wait, Laura’s split from Kain?” I ask.

“Probably only the gay boys,” Melissa snorts, which suddenly makes me feel VERY uncomfortable. Was Bryony right after all?

“Wh- what d’you mean by that?” I ask, my body trembling with anxiety- and fear at how Melissa will react, whether or not she’ll see my question as a challenge. But why should I feel this anxious at arguing with someone I literally only just described as one of my best friends?

“What I mean is that Laura SUCKS,” Melissa sneers. “So do all the other losers you used to hang around with, the two dykes, the two Pakis, that spaz and-“

“Hey!” Sabrina protests, having suddenly appeared out of nowhere. “That ‘spaz’ is my sister!”

“Ugh, go away, little girl,” Melissa sneers dismissively.

“That goes for you too,” Lydia snorts at my sister, suddenly making me feel VERY uncomfortable, not to mention confused at the sudden attitude change of the two girls.

Except, the more I think about it, the more I realise that Lydia and Melissa's attitudes HAVEN’T changed. This IS who they are. This is who they’ve been the whole time, and who they’ve spent the last few months trying to make me into. Why they’re being so open about it now, I couldn’t say. Maybe they think they’ve got me so wrapped around their little finger, that Lydia thinks I love her so much I’ll ignore her being a bitch about my friends and Melissa thinks I’m so scared of her that I’ll just laugh at anything she says, no matter how awful it is. Did they ever even think that I am a girl?

Melissa’s forgotten one thing, though- being the most popular girl in school doesn’t matter one tiny bit when you’re not in school anymore. And in six weeks’ time, we won’t be. Next September I’ll be going to the same further education college as Nicole, Megan, Harriet and Mia, four REAL friends. Which is something Melissa, Cameron, Lucy and maybe even Petra never were. As for Lydia, well, maybe she is attracted to me in some way. Maybe she’s just getting with me to help Melissa keep me ‘sweet’. I don’t know. All I know is that no one talks this way about my friends. And absolutely NO ONE talks to my sister like this.

“Hey! Leave Bryony out of this,” I say, earning angry sneers from both Lydia and Melissa.

“Don’t talk to ME like that!” Lydia spits, the look of lust that was in her eyes suddenly replaced by a look of pure disgust. “I was going to ask if you wanted to ride home with me, rather than the LITTLE kids, but I think I’ll not bother now, little BOY!” I bite my lip as all of my earlier suspicions are all confirmed. My blood starts to boil as I'm filled with a rage I haven't felt in a long time, and as much as I want to shove Melissa's words down her throat, I know that's the last thing I should do right now.

“Good,” I sneer, before turning my back and walking away from the two girls… And right into Ms Fullerton.

“Ashley,” the blonde-haired teacher says with a concerned look on her face. “What’s going on? I heard raised voices?” Before I can open my mouth to reply, my sister replies.

“Melissa and Lydia were slagging Ashley off behind her back,” Bryony says. “And Lydia called Ashley a boy.” Unsurprisingly, this makes our teacher sigh VERY angrily.

“Ugh,” Ms Fullerton spits. “I- I’m sorry you had to go through that, Ash, especially from your girlfriend.”

“EX-girlfriend,” I say. “And why are you sorry? There’s nothing you could’ve done about it…”

“Maybe not,” Ms Fullerton says. “But there’s damn well something I can do now. See you on Tuesday, Ash.”

“Come on, dad will be waiting,” Bryony says, making me follow her even though I really want to see Melissa and Lydia get their just desserts…

On the car ride home, though, it suddenly dawns on me that I am now once again single. But even worse, not only do I no longer have a girlfriend, the more I think about it, the more I realise I never had one to begin with. Much like when Suri and Laura would pretend to be my girlfriend, so was Lydia. The only difference was that Suri and Laura were pretending to help me, while Lydia was only interested in helping herself. Which sucks, as despite her attitude, she was cute. She was funny, she was really attractive, and she- well, I thought she accepted me for who I was. How wrong could I have been? One thing’s for certain, though- I’m better off single than with her. Better to wait for a genuine, loving girlfriend than a fake one like her. Even if, because of who I am, I may be waiting a long time…

As we approach home another unpleasant thought dawns on me- that not only do I no longer have a girlfriend, I don’t have any friends either. Like Allie and Lucy, I’m going to be ostracised at school, bullied, made fun of- and god knows they don’t need any extra reason to do that to me. On the one hand, though, it will only last for another six weeks before my exams start. On the other hand, it’ll be a long six weeks…

…And as I’m reminded when I arrive home, I DO have friends at school, the reminder coming in the form of a tight hug from my sister as I try to remove my dress.

“Umm, what is this for?” I ask as I pry Bryony’s arms off me.

“For being a cool big sister,” Bryony replies with a shrug. “And finally opening your eyes about Lydia. AND Melissa.”

“Yeah, I- I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” I mumble, my own cheeks starting to redden.

“It’s okay,” Bryony shrugs.

“Yeah, but it- it really isn’t,” I say, returning my sister’s hug until she eventually wriggles free. “You were trying to help and I just, you know, had a go at you… That wasn’t on.”

“Meh, I’m okay,” Bryony mumbles, though even though she has her back to me, I can tell she’s crying.

“Nah, you’re not,” I sigh, before smiling sadly as my sister and I share another hug.

“I meant it when I said you’re a cool big sister,” Bryony chuckled tiredly.

“Yeah, well I’m about to be the single LEAST cool person in school,” I snort. “I am NOT looking forward to Monday.”

“Meh, it’s only gonna be another six weeks for you,” Bryony shrugs. “But then I suppose you could say ‘why didn’t you pretend to be Melissa and Lydia’s friend for another six weeks?’” Good question, sis, I think to myself as I’m forced to concede that there really is only one answer to that question.

“…Tomorrow,” I reply with a smile.

“What’s tomorrow?” Bryony asks.

“Megan’s birthday party,” I reply. “You know Megan, tall girl with glasses who I used to hang out with?”

“Yeah, I know her, she was cool,” Bryony says. “Couldn’t you have just pretended to be ill or something to get out of being with Lydia, and then gone to the party anyway?” I really, really wish I had your brains, I think to myself.

“…I suppose I COULD have,” I reply, “But this way, you know, I’m not sneaking around, not hiding anything and I- I actually feel relieved, you know? Like by telling Melissa where to shove it, all the stress has just- gone, you know?”

“Why, ‘cause the worst-case scenario has actually come true?” Bryony asks.

“Thanks, sis,” I snort.

“You’re welcome,” Bryony says in a sickeningly sweet voice. “So d’you want to tell dad about the party tomorrow? Or will one of your friends’ parents give you a lift there? Actually, ‘cause they’re all seventeen now, can any of them give you a lift?”

“Ah, that- that’s a good point,” I grimace.

Because as much as I want to go to the party tomorrow, there’s no guarantee that I’d be welcomed there. I wasn’t invited, after all, I wasn’t included in the chat on Megan’s actual birthday on Tuesday and the only reason I even found out about it was George assuming I was invited. I grimace again as I realise that George is likely going to pay the price for my decision next week as well- and god knows my conscience couldn't take a repeat of what happened with him and Ryan Reid...

It might well be that the Excellent Eight have decided that they’re better as a ‘super seven’ after all. They may well decide that they don’t want the obnoxious fifteen year old getting in the way of their fun, that I’ve burned my bridges with them and they want even less to do with me than I want with Melissa and Lydia. Bryony may well be right- I’d have had an easier time of it if I’d kept up the pretence with Melissa and Lydia for six more weeks and then decided whether or not to ditch them. But the fact of the matter is that I’d rather have the potential of friendship with genuine girls like the excellent eight than the guarantee of fake friendship with girls like Melissa. And the excellent eight did like me for who I was in the past… I hope.

Twenty hours later, I stand outside Megan’s front door, taking deep breaths to stop my legs from quivering. On the outside, I am the picture of feminine beauty. My hair is long and glossy, styled into my usual side bang to hide my scar- though the thick layer of make-up I'm wearing, including bronzer, thick eyeliner and heavy eyelashes do that job just as well, and if it doesn't my dark pink lipstick (and matching nail polish) certainly will. My slender body is covered in a stylish patterned knee-length dress, my hairless legs are covered in light black tights and on my feet I have a pair of fashionable pumps with a 2-inch heel. On the inside, however, I feel like I’m five years old, begging to be allowed to play with the big girls. The one consolation is that these ‘big girls’ will at least not question the fact that I AM a girl…

“Oh- oh, hi Ash!” Megan says as she answers the door. “I, umm, I didn’t know you’d be coming today…”

“Yeah,” I whisper nervously. “Umm, do- do you have room for one more?” My question is answered immediately when the tall girl leans in to give me a hug that I eagerly reciprocate, tears trickling down my cheeks as I realise that I truly am among friends.

As I’m led into the home, however, I realise that Megan accepting me means I’m just one down, and six to go when I enter the living room and the rest of the Excellent Eight immediately stop talking and stare straight at me.

“I found this on the doorstep,” Megan says as I nervously bite my lip.

“Umm, hi everyone!” I say with a nervous wave.

“Hey Ash,” Laura says stoically as my whole body once again starts to tremble nervously.

“Why are you here?” Mia asks. “Shouldn’t you be out with your girlfriend today?”

“I- I don’t have a girlfriend anymore,” I reply.

“Why not?” Priya asks, making me start to wilt under her accusing stare. Of all the Excellent Eight, Priya’s the one who’s always been the most wary of me, and while I doubt any answer will satisfy her, I only have one answer I can give- the truth.

“…Because she was keeping me away from all of you,” I say, before slowly weeping as the girls all rise from their seats to encircle me in a long, genuinely loving group hug.

I spend the next twenty minutes explaining the situation to the girls, detailing everything that’s happened since January with Lydia, with Melissa, Lucy and the rest of the gang, despite my constant efforts to try to change the subject to something a bit more fun (it is Megan’s party, after all). As I talk, I can’t help but muse on how natural it is to be talking to the girls again, almost like we were picking up a conversation from yesterday, rather than several weeks ago. There’s no need to pretend with them, no need to put on a 'mask'- I can be myself. A 100%, undeniable girly girl.

“Ugh, this Melissa girl sounds like a NIGHTMARE,” Harriet spits.

“Trust me, she is,” Suri snorts (Suri having had a lot of contact with Melissa in cheer club last year). “TOTALLY up herself, thinks she’s, like, the queen of Earth or something, right Ash?”

“Umm, I guess,” I say as I fidget uncomfortably. “Can- can we not talk about Melissa, please? I just want to completely forget about her while I can.”

“Meh, nothing wrong with bitching about- well, a bitch,” Laura shrugs.

“Yeah, I- I get that,” I retort. “But- but all Melissa and her gang do is bitch about everyone else. I don’t- I don’t really want to be THAT type of girl.”

“And you’re absolutely right,” Priya says with a warm smile that warms my heart.

“You still could’ve told us what was going on, though,” Mia says. “You SHOULD’VE told us. I felt like I was losing a friend, and I- I hate that feeling.”

“I- heh,” I chuckle. “Not always easy to get a word in edgeways in the chats, heh!”

“Well- that’s true, I guess,” Nicole chuckles. “Mainly because SOME PEOPLE won’t stop kissing in the chat?”

“What, us?” Harriet protests in a mock innocent voice, before leaning in to give her girlfriend a long, tender kiss. And while I feel jealous, as I am newly single, after all, there’s nowhere else I’d be right now. Especially because of what’s coming when the weekend ends…

“I take it you’re not looking forward to Monday, then?” Laura asks with a sympathetic smile.

“Ugh,” I spit, not needing to say anything more as the other seven girls all start chuckling. “I’m not looking forward to COLLEGE, either.”

“Aww, why not?” Nicole asks.

‘”Cause I got really, really lucky when I became friends with the seven of you,” I reply with a sad smile. “And I know I’m never gonna have THAT kind of luck again.”

“Don’t say that!” Harriet admonishes me. “You’ll have us, and Nicole and Megan next year, right?”

“Right!” Nicole and Megan reply simultaneously.

“For the first year,” I sigh. “Then I’ll be right back to-“

“Stop being so negative!” Megan interrupts, before sighing. “I was going to say ‘especially at my party’ but I kinda agree there should be a ‘no-bitch’ rule today. Ash, any girl would be lucky to be your friend, honestly.”

“We all think so,” Suri says. “Bound to be some girls there who’d love to be your friend. Hell, maybe even some boys- though I know you’re not into THAT, heh!”

“And don’t worry about being the only trans girl at the college,” Laura says reassuringly. “Been there, done that, and if I can land on my feet, you definitely can, heh!”

“Thanks,” I say as I start to blush. “As for boys, meh, my best friend at school’s a boy. Where is George, anyway?”

“Oh, he’ll be here,” Megan giggles. “He’s just, you know ‘warming up’.” I frown as the other girl share a collective giggle, obviously aware of something that I’m not.

“…Should I ask?” I say.

A short while later, George arrives, and I quickly become aware of what Megan meant when she said ‘warming up’. Megan’s party has an unofficial ‘Dirty Dancing’ theme to it, and after we’ve eaten a special dinner prepared by Megan’s parents, we head out to the garden where a special area has been set up for us to ballroom dance. The original plan was for Megan to dance with George while the other six girls dance with each other, but obviously my presence means there’s now an odd number. Fortunately, Megan’s younger brother is around and he’s press-ganged in to dance with Suri (the shortest of the eight of us) while Nicole dances with Priya (Suri’s original partner), Mia obviously dances with Harriet and I dance with Laura (who was originally meant to dance with Nicole). Needless to say, both Laura and I have a great time dancing with each other- not least because we both take it in turns being the 'girl'!

As the evening draws on and our feet get more and more tired (dancing in heels isn’t as big a pain as dancing in pointe shoes, but it still aches a lot), we gradually retreat to the sides to rest and get refreshment. Eventually, 'Time of Our Life' starts playing over the stereo, and the eight of us, including Megan’s brother, much to his relief, clear off of the dancefloor to allow George and Megan to dance by themselves. Even though he hasn’t danced in ages (or at the very least, hasn’t taken any ballet classes in ages), George doesn’t put a foot wrong as he leads Megan around, and it’s very clear from the look in their eyes that they are truly besotted with each other- a look I thought I saw in Lydia’s eyes, but the more I come to think about it, the more I realise just how phoney she really was.

Eventually, the dance reaches its climax as George lifts Megan high over his head, holding her aloft and making it look like the tall girl is flying- which she undoubtedly believes she is. The seven of us let out long, loud cheers and applause as the music ends and George sets Megan down on the ground.

“So cool!” Suri squeaks while George stands aside to let us embrace Megan in a tight, loving group hug. “SO wish I’d thought of this for my birthday…”

“So wish I had a boyfriend who could lift me like that!” Laura sighs as I make another mental note to ask her what happened between her and Kain.

“Well- I can spare him for ONE lift, I suppose,” Megan giggles.

“Wh- really?” Laura asks as Megan looks pleadingly at George, who lets out a reluctant-sounding sigh and nods.

“Go on,” George chuckles tiredly. Laura doesn’t need any further invitation and immediately heads to the far end of the dancefloor, before running up and being lifted above George’s head, just as Megan had been a few moments earlier. “Anyone else?” Needless to say, all of the other girls raise their hands at George’s invitation- myself included, much to my own surprise.

I let the other girls take their turns first, and when my turn comes, I head to the edge of the dancefloor and take several deep, nervous breaths before running up to George, who unhesitatingly places his hands on my hips and lifts me high above his head, just as Thomas did last night at ballet. Unlike yesterday, though, there is no awkwardness, no worrying that I don’t belong here- because I do. I am a girl, being lifted by a boy just as the other girls had just been. Never mind the fact that the boy in question is my best friend, never mind the fact that he knew ‘boy Ashley’ better than anyone else including the rest of the excellent eight. It feels almost like when I went up in the air, the last lingering trace of ‘boy Ashley’ was washed away, and the person that came back down was 100% girl- no matter what Melissa, Lydia or anyone else says or even thinks.

“Oh- eurgh,” George moans as I give him a playful kiss on his cheek, an action that would’ve been unthinkable even 24 hours ago, but now feels perfectly natural.

“Thanks,” I whisper softly.

“For what, chucking you over my head?” George asks.

“For EVERYTHING,” I retort. “Everything you’ve done over the last five years, the support… Everything.”

“You- you’re not getting gay on me, are you?” George asks, making me snort and roll my eyes.

“No,” I reply, “because I already AM gay. I’m a girl, and I only fancy girls.”

“…My mistake,” George chuckles as I hand him back to his girlfriend.

The party only lasts for another hour before we all head home, with me getting a lift from Priya along with Suri and Laura, all of us still on a high following the party- not to mention George’s lift!

“Ah…” Laura chuckles as she stretches out alongside me on the back seat of the car. “That was an AWESOME party, hehe!”

“And the next one’s only three weeks away!” Suri squeaks excitedly. “And yes, ALL of us will be invited.”

“Thanks,” I say with a tired, happy chuckle. “And thanks again for, you know, not kicking me out when I gate-crashed.”

“You were never a gate crasher,” Priya reassures me. “We’re the Excellent EIGHT. Can’t use that name if there are only seven of us, can we?”

“Even if she is off to university in just a few months,” Suri pouts.

“Do you know where you’re going yet?” I ask.

“…Almost certainly going to be Durham,” Priya mumbles in reply as Suri moans unhappily.

“Durham?” I ask. “Isn’t that way up north?”

“It’s basically the Arctic Circle,” Suri snorts.

“I’m in line for a scholarship,” Priya explains. “I was looking at Oxford or Cambridge, but Durham’s still a really good uni, and the chance of getting all of it for free… Can’t pass up an opportunity like that.”

“Even if we will be down to seven after all?” I sigh.

“I’ll still technically live in London,” Priya retorts. “I’ll come home for holidays, and we’re all still having that beach trip this year, aren’t we?”

“Hell yeah we are!” Laura giggles.

“Assuming someone learns to drive by then, anyway,” Suri says. “Looking at the only other person in this car who’s over seventeen.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Laura sighs. “Haven’t even taken my theory test yet…”

“Meh, well we can always get the train,” I shrug. “Heh, at least you’ll be waiting a while for me to pass my test!”

“Oh- yeah, I forgot you’re not even sixteen yet,” Suri says. “When’s your birthday again?”

“May 12th,” I reply. “Also the last day of school before study break, so THAT will be fun…”

“They- they wouldn’t dare do anything to you, Ash,” Laura reassures me. “Take it from someone with some experience?”

“Yeah, well, I have experience that both of us have been on the receiving end in the past,” I sigh as I lift my hair to show the fading but still-visible scar above my left eye. “Remember Sam Reid? I’m sure George still remembers her brother.”

“I remember them being expelled hours after that, too,” Priya says. “They wouldn’t want to risk it this close to their exams, surely?”

“You don’t know Melissa,” I moan. “In her world, she’s the princess who can do no wrong, everything she does is justified, sort of thing.”

“Well, she’s going to get a shock when she goes from her world into the real world,” Priya snorts.

“You will too, Ash, but in a good way,” Laura reassures me. “Working for the coffee shop has taught me that the real world is a hell of a lot more tolerant than school. School actually sucks for girls like us. The good news is that it does end. And you’re still going to have seven AWESOME friends waiting for you once you leave.”

“Right!” Suri and Priya both cheer from the front of the car.

“One thing I’d also say, though,” Laura says, her mood suddenly darkening. “You might want to delete Melissa and all the others off your Facebook.”

“WAY ahead of you,” I snort. “I’ve deleted pretty much everyone from school, apart from George and Petra, and Bryony and her friends. I’ve protected all my social media as well, so no one can, like, follow me just to hurl abuse. Doubt that’ll stop them trying, though.”

“Well- it’s something, at least,” Laura shrugs.

“And I hate having to hide myself away like this as well,” I moan. “I mean, tomorrow of all days, right?”

“Well- yeah,” Laura sighs sadly.

“What’s tomorrow?” Suri asks. “March 31st?”

“The international transgender day of visibility,” Laura replies. “A day for- well, it kinda speaks for itself, right?”

“And I’m making myself INvisible in preparation,” I sigh.

“Well it’s hardly your fault you go to school with a load of shitheads, is it?” Priya asks.

“I’m sorry,” Suri teases. “Did Priya Malik REALLY just use the word shitheads?”

“Can you think of any better words?” Priya asks, before rolling her eyes. “Never mind, don’t answer that!”

“I know it’ll be a tough few weeks,” Laura says as she gives my hand a supportive squeeze. “But no matter what happens, you’ll ALWAYS have friends in us. ALWAYS.”

“24/7,” Suri says. “If you ever need to chat, just chat. Even if we’re in a group chat, you can drop us a private message as well.”

“And we’ll try to slow the group chats down a bit as well,” Laura reassures me. “Make sure you’re not too ‘lost’ in them.”

“No, I- I kinda miss the fast-paced chats, heh,” I chuckle. “I’ve missed these face to face chats more, though.”

“Well, plenty more where this came from!” Suri giggles. “And don’t worry, SOME of us are planning on going to uni in London, hehe!”

“Hmm… Okay,” I muse. “I mean, you can never have too many friends, but I’d need to know first whether they were good friends.”

“Friends as good as us?” Laura asks.

“There aren’t any friends as good as you girls,” I reply, earning a hug from Laura and happy squeaks from the other girls as I head back home.

When I get home, Bryony is already in bed and asleep, so I take care not to wake her as I take off my shoes and my dress and get ready for bed myself. Before I fall asleep, though, I can’t help but check Facebook on my phone. With my new high security measures in place, there are no notifications on my page, but when I browse some of the photos of Megan’s party, I see something that makes me sigh.

One of the posts is a photo of me and Laura dancing together, in which we were both tagged. This has earned the photo several dozen ‘like’s and comments from our mutual friends, most supportive, but some obviously not. One of the comments, posted by Laura herself, simply reads ‘Melissa Jeffries- welcome to the blocked list, bitch.’ And even though I know I shouldn’t, there’s a large part of me that really, really wants to see what Melissa posted…

I must have drifted off shortly afterward, as the next thing I’m aware of is a loud knock coming from my bedroom door, waking me from my slumber. A glance over at Bryony’s bed reveals that she’s already up (she had previously said she’d be at Sabrina’s house today) so I slide out of bed and open the door to be greeted by the face of my father, who looks extremely concerned.

“Oh, hey dad,” I say. “What’s up?”

“Ash, your friends are here,” dad says, and it takes a while for my tired brain to realise who dad means.

“Oh, umm, Laura and the others?” I ask, smiling as dad nods. “Is it okay if they come over?”

“It would’ve been nice to have been asked in advance,” dad replies. “But under the circumstances, yeah, I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” I say, grabbing my fluffy silver-coloured dressing gown before realising what dad had just said. “What ‘circumstances’?”

“You dumping your girlfriend on Friday,” dad replies, the concern not leaving his face. “Something I'm only finding out about now. Ash, they’ve told me that- that school’s going to be difficult for you, over the next few weeks.”

“Yeah, well, like you said, I’ll be done in six weeks anyway,” I shrug.

“A lot can happen in six weeks,” dad says.

“Meh,” I shrug. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“I could end up being called to pick you up from A&E again,” dad replies in a dark voice.

“It’s not going to come to that,” I say, even though deep down inside, I’m far from confident.

“Your friends also told me that today is the International Day of Transgender Visibility,” dad says. “I didn’t know that until just now.”

“Well- well you’re not transgender,” I say with a shrug.

“No, but you are,” dad says, making me bite my lip to keep myself from crying. A brief moment of silence passes between us before dad speaks again. “Go on, get downstairs, your friends are waiting.”

“Thanks, dad,” I whisper before skipping down to the living room, where all seven girls immediately jump up and greet me with a tight group hug that makes me shriek with laughter.

“Hey Ash!” Laura giggles. “Fellow ‘visible girl’!”

“Yeah, well, I’m not feeling very ‘visible’ right now,” I moan, before a sly smirk spreads across my lips.

“Why not?” Mia asks, a concerned look spreading across her face.

“Umm, no make-up?” I reply, earning teasing laughs from all of my friends. “Why are you all here so early, anyway?”

“Well, we want to get as much celebrating in as possible?” Laura replies. “It’s a day for us to be open, for us to be proud about who we are.”

“Not that the other 364 days of the year should be any different,” Harriet interjects with a smirk.

“And also…” Priya says with a grimace. “We- we want to make sure you’re okay.”

“You did say you blocked all of the idiots at school,” Suri says as we all sit back down. “But we don’t know whether or not you saw some- well, on Facebook last night…”

“I- I saw Laura’s reply to Melissa,” I sigh. “I didn’t see the comment itself. I- I’m not sure I want to know…”

“It- it was a photo of you and Laura,” Nicole says. “Umm, like, photoshopped, it- in it, you and Laura had beards, and-“

“Yeah, thanks, don’t think I need to know any more,” I sigh. “Doubt I’m gonna be able to pull a sickie for six weeks, heh.”

“That’s why we’ve come up with a plan,” Nicole says with a smug grin. “For the next six weeks, while you’re at school, one of us will accompany you home.”

“Umm, I appreciate the thought,” I say, “but my dad gives me a lift home, I’m not going to be in any danger going to or from school.”

“Well- then one of us will be waiting for you every day when you get home,” Suri continues.

“That- that really won’t be necessary,” I say, before letting out a loud sigh. “Okay, it might…”

“Well- we’ll see how it goes tomorrow,” Laura says. “I’ll be here tomorrow regardless. Because we know you’d do the same for any of us, right?”

“Right!” The seven girls all simultaneously cheer, making me grin- even though I know that in recent weeks, that wouldn’t necessarily have been the case.

“…I would NOW,” I chuckle, earning sympathetic smiles from my friends.

“It still sucks that you don’t have any REAL friends in your year,” Suri sighs. “Well, apart from gorgeous George, anyway!”

“Hey, keep your eyes off him!” Megan playfully chastises the petite Indian girl.

“Ooh!” The rest of us- myself included- all coo, making the tall bespectacled girl blush.

“I will be fine at school tomorrow, honestly,” I try to reassure my friends. “I sit next to George in form. I can hang out with Bryony and her friends at lunch and break, or I can just spend it in the library studying. God knows I need to catch up a bit, heh.”

“And auditions for the elite ballet class are around now, aren’t they?” Nicole asks.

“Yeah,” I reply. “Not sure if I’m going to try out, though. And thanks for saying the ‘B’ word, that oughta get Cassie up in the next few minutes.” I smirk as all of my friends share a genuine laugh.

“Why wouldn’t you audition though?” Mia asks. “You’re a great dancer.”

“Yeah, but you need to be REALLY great to pass the audition,” I sigh. “None of you did, after all, and I’m not a patch on any of you.”

“You’re not THAT bad,” Laura says. “Take it from someone who actually danced with you yesterday, you are REALLY good, hehe!”

“Thanks,” I chuckle bashfully. “I’m still not as good as any of you, though. Heh, felt like even Megan’s brother was better than me last night!”

“Oh, thanks for reminding me,” Megan sighs. “I am going to PAY for dragging him to the party yesterday. He’s going to want me to go to his birthday party now and wait on him hand and foot, so thanks for that, Ash.” I bite my lip and start to blush as my friend’s mock chastisement (and I know Megan enough to know that she is only teasing), before remembering that I had this exact same conversation with my fake friends two days ago- and I remember the joke I said then as well.

“Oh, poor you,” I retort. “Only having ONE younger sibling hanging off you all the time…” Unlike with Cameron, all seven girls- including Megan- immediately start laughing good-naturedly at the joke. And also unlike with Cameron, I knew the girls well enough to know that I didn’t have any worries whatsoever about them being offended.

“Ahh, touché,” Megan chuckles. “Ooh, and speaking of…” The eight of us all giggle as the living room door opens and a pyjama-clad Cassie walks through, her eyes quickly widening at the sight of all of us.

“Hi Cassie!” Laura says with an excited giggle.

“Didn’t I say all you had to do is mention the word ‘ballet’ and she appears?” I tease, earning a scowl from my younger sister.

“Shut up, Ashley,” Cassie pouts at me, earning playful ‘ooh’s from all of my friends (and me as well).

“I think I preferred you when you were high on sugar all the time and dancing around everywhere,” I tease my sister, earning myself a raspberry in response.

“What year are you in at school now, Cassie?” Megan asks.

“Year 3,” Cassie replies. “Bryony says she’s already worked it out, and I’ll start secondary school just after she leaves it.”

“Okay, that’s cool,” Megan says with a nod.

“But I might be in Ms Fullerton’s pointe class at the same time as her,” Cassie continues. “Ms Fullerton says that because my birthday’s in October, me and my best friend can start in year 7 rather than year 8!”

“And that’s the important school, of course!” Laura giggles. “We were actually talking about whether your sister will get into Ms Fullerton’s elite class, too!” I sigh and roll my eyes as Laura giggles, while Cassie looks confused.

“What’s an ‘elite’?” My eight-year-old sister asks, earning ‘aww’s from my friends at her innocence.

“It’s basically Ms Fullerton’s top class,” Nicole explains. “You have to be sixteen or older to be in it.”

“So, you can only ask to be in it if you’re an older girl?” Cassie asks disappointedly.

“Well… Yes and no,” Nicole replies. “As well as being over sixteen, you have to pass a special test to get into it, which your sister’s taking in a few weeks’ time!” And thanks for telling Cassie THAT, I think to myself as my sister’s jaw drops.

“Are you taking a special ballet test, Ashley?” Cassie asks me. “Can I watch?”

“I- I’m not sure I’m taking it yet,” I say.

“But why not?” Cassie pleads. “You’re a brilliant ballerina…” Despite my sister’s whine, I can’t help but grin at her compliment.

“A lot of us took it last year,” Laura explains. “And none of us passed the test either, as it’s really hard.”

“Though when you’re sixteen, we reckon you’ll pass it with flying colours!” Suri teases my sister, who grins happily.

“So, are you all here to help Ashley practise for her test?” Cassie asks, making me roll my eyes again.

“Well… We are now!” Mia giggles.

“Can I at least get dressed first?” I protest as my friends and my sister all giggle excitedly.

Needless to say, I am allowed to get dressed and eat breakfast, but afterward, my friends take great delight in helping me practise for the elite class test while Cassie and Dorothy both watch on eagerly, especially when I put on my pointe shoes and have my body (and especially my feet) bent into shapes totally alien for any teenaged boy, but which come naturally to me. My friends leave just before lunch, though before they go, one of the girls stops behind to have one final word with me.

“Ash, before I go,” Priya says softly. “I know out of all eight of us, you and me have probably got along the least well.”

“Yeah- probably…” I grimace.

“Maybe because of our age difference, I don’t know,” Priya shrugs. “Maybe because of when you tried to come out to your dad and- well, Suri kinda got a bit hurt by what happened, and the big sister instinct- something you know all about, heh!”

“Yeah, I guess,” I chuckle.

“For what it’s worth,” Priya says with a wide, genuine grin, “Bryony, Cassie and the others are lucky to have you as a big sister. And I’m lucky to have you as a friend.”

“I feel the same way,” I whisper as I give the petite Indian girl a gentle hug. “Dunno I’d agree about being a great big sister, though- if I’m gonna get shit tomorrow at school, got knows what they’ll do to Bryony as well…” I shudder as I remember Melissa’s implied threat from last year. All of a sudden, I feel REALLY selfish about enjoying this weekend with my real friends…

“Well- well Bryony has real friends too,” Priya says. “They’ll look after her, just like we’ll look after you.”

“Thanks,” I whisper.

“We’ll talk soon,” Priya says, giving me a reassuring hug as she leaves the house. “VERY soon. I promise.”

“Talk soon,” I say, shutting the door behind my friend and letting out a long sigh. This weekend has been one of the best I’ve had in a long time, and I really, REALLY don’t want it to end.

And yet, when my alarm wakes me at seven o’clock the following morning, I know that it must. My heart is in my throat and my legs are shaking as I pull on my black tights, my white blouse and my short grey skirt, and even though I look no different to how I did last Friday, I feel different. After the weekend, I know for a fact that I belong in this uniform, just as much as any other girl regardless of how they were born. I have earned the right to wear this uniform, to wear gold studs in my earlobes, to wear mascara on my eyelashes and to have long, blonde hair that cascades over my shoulders. And yet, I’m nervous- terrified, even. Harriet has often said that a skirt is a symbol of strength. Today, however, it feels like a bullseye…

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Dad asks as we pull up outside the school. “If you’d prefer, I can always call in, say you’re unwell-“

“No- no, not this close to my exams,” I sigh. “And it’d just be delaying the inevitable. Even if today is April the first, of all days…”

“I’ll look after you,” Bryony says with a comforting smile as we get out of the car, though I’m far from reassured. Nonetheless, I have a confident smile on my face as I stride into school… Which immediately starts to falter as I hear the giggles and whispers from my fellow schoolmates, something I thought I’d put far behind me. As much as they hurt, though, I can choose to ignore whispers and giggles- though I can’t ignore the two tall boys from my year who suddenly block my path.

“Hey, Moore,” one of the boys, who I recognise as a member of the football team called Gavin, snorts angrily. “Where you going?” Okay, I think to myself. You want to humiliate me? Two can play at this game.

“Umm, form?” I reply. “Same place we go every morning at this time?” Don’t make them TOO angry, I think to myself.

“What’s under your skirt?” the other boy, another footballer called Rick, asks.

“Why are you so obsessed with what’s under my skirt?” I snort, barely having any time to realise my mistake as Rick roughly shoves me to the ground, causing me to drop my bag and my skirt to ride dangerously high. My heart races as Rick looms over me with an angry look on his face, before an arm comes out of nowhere and stops Rick, shoving him away from me and pinning him to a nearby wall.

“Don’t,” the owner of the arm says- who I immediately recognise as my best male friend.

“Who are you, her boyfriend?” Gavin sneers.

“No, I’m her best friend,” George says, making my heart swell with pride. “Now piss off. I mean it!” I start to tremble with fear as the two boys angrily stare at George- if they’re willing to hurt me, god knows what they’d be willing to do to him. They slowly start to circle my friend, obviously with the intention of one of them restraining him while the other beats him up, but much to my relief, they eventually back off. I let out a sigh of relief as George helps me to my feet.

“Are you okay?” My friend asks as I straighten my skirt and we continue toward our form room.

“I think so,” I reply, before sighing. “Mate, they could’ve really hurt you…”

“Doubt it,” George snorts confidently. “What? You’re not the only one with a big outside school exam coming up, over the summer I should get my shodan.”

“Showdown?” I ask.

“N- no, ‘shodan’,” George clarifies. “In judo, it means ‘1st degree black belt’. I’ve also started studying aikido, so even if they had somehow got me from behind, I could still have REALLY messed them up.”

“Yeah, but still, though,” I moan. “You’d still have got in a lot of trouble for fighting, even if it in self-defence. And it wasn’t even self-defence!”

“Yeah, well, they’d have got in more trouble for attacking a girl,” George retorts. “Besides, I’m a prefect, I have the authority to stop fights, which is all I was doing.”

“Well- if you say so,” I sigh. “You can’t be everywhere I go, though…”

“Don’t see why not,” George shrugs.

“How did it even get around school so quickly, anyway?” I moan.

“Pretty sure that was all Failbook’s doing,” George snorts. “Don’t worry about it. I WILL protect you. I owe you that much.”

“How do you owe me anything?” I ask as we take our seats. “You’re the one who’s supported me, you’re the one who’s going to get a trashed reputation because of me-“

“Why should I care about that?” George asks. “I’m only here for another six weeks, same as you. And why should I care what the girls here think about me? I’ve already got Meg, she thinks I’m great, end of story.” Before I can retort, we’re interrupted by one of the girls at a table adjacent to ours, who has an evil grin on her face.

“Hey Ashley!” The girl asks. “What razor do you use to shave your face?” I roll my eyes as this triggers a giggling fit among the other girls at the table.

“Why?” I reply. “Do you want to know which one you should use to shave yours?” I smirk as the laughter suddenly stops dead.

“Shut your face, you stupid freak!” The original girl sneers angrily as George sniggers. “You too, you fat turd!”

“Scary,” George says with a snort of laughter. “Ash, have you ever thought about being a stand-up comedian? You were even faster than Lee Mack in what you said to her and Rick.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I chuckle. Pity I don’t have a choice in that, I think to myself…

The first two lessons of the day pass mostly without incident. George accompanies me to my first lesson (despite not being in the class himself) and the walk to the second lesson isn’t far, and in the lessons themselves we’re too busy for anything to happen. At break, though, I keep my head held low as I walk to my new (and technically, old) usual spot. I know there’s no point in heading to Melissa’s spot near the sports hall, so I head to the table that used to be the hangout of the Excellent Eight, but is now used by my sister and her friends.

Naturally, Bryony has saved a space for me at the table, a space I eagerly fill, but a few moments later, it becomes apparent why there’s a space free.

“Freak,” Lucy spits in my direction as she walks past the table and in the direction of Melissa and her friends. I roll my eyes and snort at the feeble insult, and so do the rest of the girls at the table- including, much to my surprise, Lucy’s sister.

“Ugh, SO sorry about her,” Jo snorts. So much for Melissa’s threat against Bryony, I think to myself.

“I take it Princess Melissa has forgiven her, then?” I ask, smirking as Jo sighs and shakes her head.

“She is such a moron,” the blonde-haired girl says. “You can sit with us if you want, Ash, I don’t mind.” I smile as the other girls at the table all nod in agreement.

“Yeah, from what B- Bryony says, you’ll be m- much less of a p- p- pain than Lucy w- was,” one of the girls I don’t recognise says with a noticeable stutter. “I’m B- Bailey b- by the w- way.”

“Nice to meet you!” I chuckle. “Bailey would probably have been Bryony’s name if she’d- umm, if she’d been a boy…” And that’s how you make things awkward in the space of ten seconds, I think to myself.

“…Forget what I said about her being less of a pain,” my sister snorts, making her friends laugh and sparing my blushes.

“And we’re all cool about ‘you know what’ at this table,” another girl that I do recognise says.

“Ah, you- you’re Lily, aren’t you?” I ask. “Laura’s sister?”

“Stepsister, but same thing,” Lily replies. “Well- we think so, at least! She was really happy that you showed up at the party on Saturday, by the way.”

“So was Nicole,” Sabrina says.

“Yeah,” I sigh happily. “I’m happy to have some real friends again too.” Friends who welcomed me back with welcome arms- something Melissa and the rest of the girls would NEVER do. Well, with maybe one exception…

“A- Ariadna,” I say nervously, attracting the attention of the black-haired girl. “Has Petra said anything over the weekend? About, umm, about what happened, I mean?”

“Umm, no, not to me,” the Polish girl replies. “Though she does often talk about you a lot.”

“Ooh!” The other girls at the table all coo, making me and Ariadna blush.

“You literally asked for that,” Bryony says, before giggling as I give her a playful nudge.

“What do you girls usually talk about, then?” I ask.

“Just- just girl stuff, really,” Sabrina replies with a shrug.

“So you’ll fit right in,” Bryony says, making me smile as the table settles into a gossip session that ends far too quickly for my liking when the school bell rings to signal the start of the next lesson. As he’d promised, George arrives to escort me to the lesson, and once the lesson (which again passes without incident) ends, he takes me back to the table, where my new, younger friends are waiting to pick up our conversation from where we left off.

As lunch passes, I manage to relax more and more. Just like the old days, our table is its own little bubble, completely cut off from the rest of the world- which today of all days, more than suits me. With five minutes left before the bell rings to signal the end of lunch, I excuse myself from the table and head to use the toilet.

When I enter the toilet block alone, I suddenly realise my mistake.

“Eww, what are you doing in here, BOY?” A girl I don’t recognise, but who obviously recognises me, asks.

“…I’m taking a piss, what d’you think I’m doing?” I reply. This time, however, my quick wit doesn’t seem to work.

“Boys go in the boys’ toilets, you freak!” The girl shouts as three other girls flank her and start approaching me.

“Well it’s a pity that I’m a girl, isn’t it?” I retort.

“Oh yeah?” One of the girls sneers. “Prove it!”

“What, isn’t the hair, the make-up and the skirt enough proof?” I ask.

“Take your pants down and show us!” Another girl shouts as I back away, planning to hide in a cubicle until the bell goes only to find myself being backed into a wall.

“Why are you so bothered about what’s in my pants?” I ask. “Are you a lesbian?” Unfortunately, all this does is anger the girls even further, and they charge toward me, two of them restraining me while the other two try to grab my skirt and my tights. I desperately kick out to try to preserve my modesty, not even bothering if I hurt or injure the girls, when we’re interrupted by the last sound I hoped to hear.

“Hey!” Bryony’s unmistakable voice yells. “Leave her alone!” No, please god, no, I think to myself. Bryony’s tall for her age, but at least 2 years younger than the girls who are harassing me, and even together we’re both outnumbered two to one.

“Get lost, little girl,” one of the girls says, roughly shoving my sister to the ground and causing her to hit her shoulder on a sink.

All of a sudden, I find myself losing control of my actions. A feeling of pure rage fills every cell in my body and I feel ten times stronger than before, easily breaking free of the girls holding me back. I rush over to the girl who hurt my sister and grab her by the collar, clenching my right hand into a fist and raising it high…

“What’s going on here!?” Mrs Richardson, one of our teachers, yells as she enters the toilet block. All of sudden, the adrenaline in my blood thins and I unclench my fist- but not before recoiling at the look of pure terror in the eyes of the girl I was about to punch. “Ashley?”

“…Nothing,” I mumble, before helping my sister back to her feet.

“Well if I had to guess,” Mrs Richardson says, turning to face my four tormentors, “you four were in here trying to cause trouble for Ashley- who is as entitled to use these toilets as any other girl- Bryony here tried to stop you, you pushed her to the ground and Ashley was trying to defend her. Am I right?” I bite my lip as the four girls all nod. “I thought so. My office. NOW!” I try my hardest not to tremble as the girls all skulk off, though I need several deep breaths to calm myself as the teacher turns to address me. “Ashley, I’m sure when I saw you with your fist raised, you were only defending your sister, right?”

“I- I don’t know,” I moan, before breaking down in tears.

“…I think you two had better come to my office too,” Mrs Richardson says softly. “What lessons do you have next?”

“Umm, science, Mr Cox,” Bryony replies. “I don’t know what Ash has next.”

“I’ll let Mr Cox know you won’t be in the lesson,” Mrs Richardson says. “Ashley… There’s no need to be upset. I didn’t see you punch or hit that girl, you’re not going to get into trouble.” I nod and try to contain my emotions, but the truth is that I’m not upset about getting into trouble- I’m upset because the girls were right all along.

I was in an impossible position, and my first instinct was to resort to violence. If Mrs Richardson hadn’t shown up when she did, I would have punched that girl, just like the violent thugs this morning nearly did to George. I can wear the clothes, the make-up, even go to dance class, but the truth is that I’m no better than them. I can never change who I truly am inside.

After we’ve been taken to the office (passing my four tormentors, who all have their faces to the wall outside) and I have the chance to calm down, I try to explain my feelings to Bryony, who has one very blunt response.

“What a load of complete bull- poop,” Bryony says, conscious of the fact that there’s still a teacher in the room.

“It’s true, though,” I sigh. “I was going to punch that girl.”

“I’ll keep pretending I didn’t hear that,” Mrs Richardson says.

“Ash, for god’s sake,” Bryony sighs. “Yes, you’re my big sister, but I’m a big sister too. What d’you think I’d do if I saw a girl from my year threatening Cassie?”

“Ugh, I- I dunno…” I moan.

“I’d hit them,” Bryony says bluntly.

“And I’ll pretend I didn’t hear THAT either,” Mrs Richardson says, before sighing. “But your sister isn’t wrong, Ashley. I don’t know exactly what’s been going on with you and the other girls in school, but I know that you ARE a girl, and anyone who says or acts otherwise is wrong, and WILL be punished. I will be speaking to Mrs Houghton about this- don’t worry, you’re not going to be in any trouble- and we’re going to make sure this NEVER happens again.”

“Why bother?” I snort. “I’m leaving in six weeks anyway…”

“Even if you were leaving tomorrow, we would still do this,” Mrs Richardson says. “We would NEED to do this, and not just to show that we’re taking this seriously, but because it’s not fair for you to be treated like this, Ashley.”

“Melissa Jeffries has a LOT to answer for,” Bryony sneers.

“And that’s another person I’ll obviously need to have a word with,” Mrs Richardson says as a sly grin spreads across my sister’s face, as she’s once again used her brain to figure out a way of dropping Melissa in it without actually saying anything. “First, though, I’ll give your parents a call and get them to pick you up early.”

“Thanks,” I whisper as I’m left alone in the office with my sister, who I immediately give a long, tight hug that she’s only too happy to reciprocate. “And thank YOU. Are- are you okay?”

“Meh, I’m fine,” Bryony shrugs. “And you’re welcome, after all, what are big sisters for?”

Dad comes to pick us up a short while later, and it takes the entire car ride home and then some to reassure him that we're both okay- even though deep down inside, I'm still far from okay. Despite Bryony's reassurances, I still can't shake the sight of the fear in the girl's eyes as I was about to hit her. No matter what I thought at the time, all she saw was someone she saw as male about to assault her- an image no woman should ever have to see.

And yet, it was the exact same thing I saw this morning before form. If it wasn't for George showing up when he did, god knows what Rick and Gavin would've done to me. I don't know what the solution is- all I know is that I'm sick of violence of any and all kinds- and I'm sick of school too. I don't know why everyone turned against me so quickly- maybe pent-up frustration about not being able to touch me for the last six months, out of fear of offending Melissa, maybe Melissa herself has put some kind of 'bounty' on me, I don't know.

Fortunately, about half an hour after we arrive home, I'm able to forget all about my fake ex-friend when one of my oldest real friends drops round and gives me a long, friendly hug.

"Hey Ash..." Laura sighs. "I heard you had a really, really shitty day?"

"Umm... How, exactly?" I ask, before sighing as I look at my younger sister, who simply shrugs.

"Me, Sabrina, Nicole, Laura," Bryony explains, and I don't need to be told that it was a chain of text messages between the four girls that led to the hug I received when I opened the door.

"Well, this is day one of a very, very small number," Laura sighs as we sit down. "Pretty soon, that place will be done with. Gone. You can move on with your life and everyone who still cares about how 'cool' they were at school can stay stuck in the past. And yes, I know that's easy for me to say when I still hang out with the same girls I hung out with while I was at school, heh."

"Me included," I remind my friend, who smiles warmly.

"But I never cared about whether or not you were cool when I hung out with you," Laura insists. "That might not have come out right..."

"No, I- I get what you're saying," I sigh. "And I feel the same way. But it would've been nice to have, you know, more friends..."

"If it helps, I've not really made many at college," Laura sighs. "Only two girls that me and Suri hang out with at lunch time, that's about it, really."

"...Doesn't help as much as you'd think," I say, earning a chuckle from my friend. "And- and it's not just school I'm worried about. I'm worried about me, too."

"You!?" Laura asks. "Umm... Why, exactly?"

"At school today, I-" I begin, before sighing. "I was being confronted in the loos by a gang of girls, Bryony tried to intervene, she got shoved to the ground, and I- I nearly punched one of the girls."

"...And?" Laura asks with a shrug. "Other than Bryony proving she's not nearly as smart as she thinks she is by taking on a gang of girls by herself?"

"Hey!" My sister protests.

"I- Laura, I nearly punched a girl in the face," I say. "The way she looked, she was- she was TERRIFIED of me."

"Good, if she was picking on your sister," Laura says. "If anyone hurt Lily I'd rip all their hair out."

"Yeah, but, I- ugh," I spit. "I can't get that look of fear the girl had out of my mind."

"Well, that just shows what a good person you are inside, doesn't it?" Laura says with a supportive smile.

"Told you," Bryony says, making me roll my eyes.

"...You do remember I was once suspended from school for a day for punching your ex-boyfriend in the stomach?" I ask. "I don't feel particularly guilty about THAT, even though he was technically telling the truth..."

"Yeah," Laura grimaces. "I kinda- kinda feel a bit guilty there too, heh. But- I dunno. Everyone has a 'dark side', I guess. When are you next seeing Dr Williamson?"

"Umm, Wednesday," I reply. "Yes, I'll mention it to her too."

"It might also be worth mentioning something else," Laura says. "You know my brother, right?"

"Yeah," I reply with an exasperated sigh that makes Laura giggle- her brother is more than a little tiring.

"Once, he picked me up from ballet," Laura continues. "And he- he actually raised a fist to Ms Fullerton when she got on his nerves."

"Jeez," I grimace. "And he- he's now actually going out with another Angel as well?"

"Yep," Laura says proudly. "Because he realised he'd crossed a line. He sought out counselling, got it, and is a much better person than he was before."

"...That just means he must have been an unbearable arsehole beforehand if this is the 'improved' Ricky," I say with a frown. "I'm sorry, I- I'm not sure that story really helped me."

"Meh, fair enough," Laura shrugs. "Just thought it might. But- everyone gets angry from time to time. Doesn't make you any less of a girl just because you lost your temper when you saw your little sister getting hurt."

"And as I've already said," Bryony interjects, "if anyone ever hurts Cassie, or Dorothy, Eddy or Felicity, god help them."

"Atta girl!" Laura giggles, making my sister grin and blush. "And that goes for you too, Ash. It's gonna be hard the next few weeks, that's for sure. But we're here for you, because that's what friends- no, that's what sisters do."

"...You can never have too many friends?" I ask, echoing the catchphrase of the transgender woman who is an icon and role model to myself, Laura and countless other transgender girls around the country.

"You can never have too many TRUE friends," Laura says, getting up and giving me another hug that I'm only too happy to reciprocate.

The following day, school goes a lot quietly than it had before. The whole year was brought in for a special assembly to reiterate that any transphobic behaviour would result in an instant suspension, and repeated behaviour would result in expulsion- and with exams just around the corner, no one is willing to risk that. It turned out that yesterday's targeted harassment was a result of Melissa texting around her 'minions' and offering a reward for the first person who took a photograph of me with my genitals showing. Needless to say, that text got back to Mrs Houghton, who decided that Melissa needed to stay away from school for the rest of the week- something I certainly didn't argue with, especially as the Easter holidays started the following week, meaning I had a full month with no Melissa in it! With the 'bounty' no longer a thing, my tormenting and teasing quickly died down, almost as though the fact that I was transgender had no effect on anyone else- which it, of course, doesn't.

Later that night, I went to ballet class, only to discover that Melissa's presence was no longer welcome there, either- and thanks also to what she said on Friday, that absence would prove to be permanent. In her desperation to prove that she was the 'alpha bitch', Melissa ended up destroying any chance she had of ingratiating herself with Heavenly Talent, the Angels or anyone else she admired- and I can't say I have any sympathy for her whatsoever. At Ms Fullerton (not to mention the rest of the Excellent Eight)'s urging, I did eventually audition for the dance school's elite class, and while I didn't pass, I wasn't far off- Ms Fullerton said that if a passing score was 100, I was around an 85, which was enough to put a smile on my face. So I'll never be a professional dancer- it doesn't make me any less of a girl, just like one flash of anger doesn't either.

Of course, Melissa would eventually return to school after the Easter break, and the teasing would resume- but not for long, as study break would quickly appear on the horizon. And while I did miss having a girlfriend- or, in Lydia's case, sort-of girlfriend- I was given hope by a text message that appeared on my phone on the Friday before the start of the Easter break.

'Not everyone at school thinks you're a freak,' the text message read. 'I still think you're cool. Petra xx.'

Maybe there will be something I miss about school after all...