“Ugh,” I moan as my phone’s alarm wakes me from a mercifully dreamless slumber on yet another Monday morning. Of course, the fact that it’s the start of August means that all weekdays seem to blend into one, even Mondays- though over the last few months, that’s been truer than ever, regardless of the summer break.

Mere days after Will and I ‘consummated' our relationship, the entire world turned upside down, all thanks to three words uttered by the Prime Minister- ‘stay at home’- and the one word on everyone’s lips, in many cases literally- coronavirus. I’d seen the reports on television about how case numbers were rising, and how the virus could be potentially deadly to anyone of all ages, but none of it seemed real until my life- everyone’s lives- came to a screeching halt.

The first, most obvious change to my life was that college closed. Literally. We still did our summer performance, but it was over Zoom, with the stage being replaced by our bedrooms and our costumes and make-up replaced by whatever we happened to be wearing that day. Though even this cloud had a silver lining- no college meant no exams, with our tutors deciding our final grade instead, and this combined with my performance was enough to guarantee my place at university starting next month- assuming I’m actually allowed to go to the campus, of course.

Of course, lockdown also meant I couldn’t have any physical contact with Will- which for the first few weeks, was almost unbearable. The saying ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ may be a cliché, but only being able to speak over a screen for the first few weeks nearly made me tear my hair out with frustration. However, it also made me realise that the more I felt this way about Will, the more I wanted to be with him. When we were finally able to reunite at the end of June, we wasted no time in ‘picking up from where we left off’, which confirmed to me that his feelings for me were just as strong as mine were- are- for him.

And the same applies for the Excellent Eight as well. If I thought Priya being hundreds of miles away was bad enough, the rest of my friends being relatively within arm’s reach but just as inaccessible was much worse. However, the worse things got, the more we were there for each other. And things got particularly bad for me over lockdown- not because of missing Will, or my friends, or college, or even the fact that my SRS has been indefinitely postponed- but because I had nowhere to run, nowhere to escape to from the letter.

Every day I wake up, the letter is the first thing on my mind, and it’s the last thing I think about before I go to bed at night. I’ve written and rewritten it a hundred times, and each time I’m unhappy with some of it, or more often, all of it. Words alone seem inadequate to describe how much Robert has ruined my life, and how much I’m determined to succeed despite him- and how much I have already succeeded despite him. Which is why tomorrow, I shall be reading the letter to him face-to-face.

Not in person, of course- even if I wanted to, lockdown restrictions mean I wouldn’t be allowed to (another ‘silver lining’ of covid), and as my counsellor has reminded me, I don’t need to read it to him at all- the letter was for my benefit, not his. But I want to read it to him. I want him to hear from my lips just what a terrible father and human being he is. I want him to hear how much better a job Sean is doing than he ever did. I want him to hear how I have a boyfriend who I adore. I want him to hear that I am a woman, and I always will be. And I want him to hear that he has no say in my life, and never will.

I should feel strong. I WANT to feel strong, and the evidence backing me up is undisputable- being represented by one of the UK’s biggest agencies, getting a place in one of the UK’s biggest performing arts universities and already earning good money from both agency work and my social media channels is proof that I am (if you’ll pardon the cliché) living my best life. But the prospect of merely seeing him on a video screen is terrifying. However, I’ll only have to see him once. And when that’s over and done with, I’ll have the rest of my life to be the woman I was always destined to be. The woman I already AM.

“Morning,” mum says softly as I pad down the stairs and into the living room, covered only in my lightweight summer dressing gown. “Sleep well?”

“Meh,” I reply with a shrug. “Too hot to sleep ‘well’, but I did at least sleep, heh. Doubt I will tonight…”

“I know,” mum whispers, giving me a gentle hug as I sit down with my coffee and my cereal. “But you’ll have everyone- literally everyone supporting you tomorrow. Never forget that.”

“I won’t,” I whisper back. “Speaking of, where are dad and Lily?”

“Sean’s gone into the garage,” mum replies. “Some of us still have to work even in the pandemic, heh. Your sister’s in her bedroom, I think your friend Nikki is doing another of her dance workouts?” Nikki? I think to myself, before smiling and nodding.

“Ah- Nicole’s video workout, right,” I reply. “I keep losing track of what day it is, heh.”

“Yeah, that used to happen to me during summer holidays,” mum chuckles. “Both as a girl and as a mum, heh!”

“Bet you never had a summer holiday like THIS one when you were a girl, though,” I retort.

“That’s for certain,” mum sighs sadly. “Nothing even comes close. Though I am proud of how you’re coping with this, you and Lily. I was just telling your grandmother the other day that isolation like this would’ve been hell when I was your age, before iPads and smartphones were a thing. The only way I’d have been able to do a dance workout like Lily would be to wait for an advert to appear in a magazine I read, then I’d have to fill it in, cut it out, post it off and if I was really lucky, get a VHS tape in the post several weeks later.”

“I do love your tales from medieval times,” I tease, smirking as my mother rolls her eyes at me.

“You know, it’s not impossible that you’ll be a mum one day,” my mother reminds me. “Hopefully your daughter WILL have as smart a mouth as you!”

“Any daughter of mine would be the coolest girl ever,” I retort.

“I guarantee she wouldn’t think the same about her mother!” Mum says, smiling smugly as I roll my eyes.

“Meh, I think my mother’s okay,” I say with a warm smile that my mother mirrors. “I doubt I could’ve had a better one. Most mothers wouldn’t have asked their 11-year-old son the question that changed their life, heh.”

“And I couldn’t have asked for a better daughter, mouth or no mouth,” mum says, leaning in for another hug as a tear slowly trickles from my eye.

“Thanks,” I whisper as I finish my breakfast.

After showering, brushing my hair and dressing for the day in a loose (but still very cute) summer dress I go to head downstairs, before smirking at the sound of gentle piano music coming from my sister’s bedroom- accompanied by a loud voice, the owner of which I’ve known for almost seven years.

“Sweep your back leg behind you, like you’re drawing a circle with the point of your foot,” Nicole says, performing the instruction on Lily’s laptop screen as my sister mimics her. “Now bring your foot up in a retiré and stretch it out to your side. Remember- don’t overextend your muscles, only stretch as far as you’re comfortable stretching for now. But if you keep up your exercises, I guarantee you WILL get stronger. Now turn your hips into an arabesque, keeping your back leg as high as you can manage.” I grin as Lily turns her hips, only to roll her eyes as she sees me standing in the doorway with a wide grin on my face. My grin widens as her forward hand momentarily extends its middle finger at me, before returning to its usual elegant shape.

“Very ladylike, very balletic,” I tease as Lily follows Nicole’s instructions for another few minutes, before sitting down on her bed as my friend announces a quick break. As Lily works out, I can’t help but muse on how it feels like just yesterday that Nicole- and, for that matter, I- attended dance classes like Lily’s, learning the same steps that she's almost effortlessly mastered. Today, though, Nicole’s the one leading the class, and not just this class, but several other exercise classes over Zoom. And even Lily is almost two years older than I was when I began dancing- and began my journey toward being the woman I am today.

“What do you want, Laura?” Lily asks with a sigh as I sit down next to her, while she ties her stiff, shiny pointe shoes to her feet.

“I could’ve sworn you said you were thinking about dropping ballet?” I ask, smirking as the thirteen-year-old girl rolls her eyes again.

“I was THINKING about it,” Lily replies. “I talked about it a bit with Molly, and we both agreed we still like it, so- yeah. Plus, dad bought me these pointe shoes literally two lessons before Ms. Fullerton’s school closed due to lockdown, so- yeah. Think he’ll be pissed off if he doesn’t get his money’s worth, like.”

“Yeah, Sean really doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d get pissed off THAT easily,” I retort, earning a smirk from my sister. “And on that note, didn’t he also get you, like, two new leotards for your birthday?” I smirk as I gesture to the very grown-up looking crop top and tight shorts that my sister is wearing- another reminder, as if one was needed, of her (and indeed, all of us) getting older.

“Yeah, kinda the wrong month for smothering my crotch in five layers of nylon,” Lily replies, gesturing to the BTS calendar on her wall- another ‘reminder’. “Wrong TIME of the month as well…” And ‘reminders’ don’t come any stronger than that one, I think to myself as I give Lily a sympathetic smile.

“Well, I’m glad you’re still enjoying it,” I say. “God knows how much I owe Ms. Fullerton for everything she did for me when I was your age- heh, younger, even.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Lily says, stretching out her feet before standing up and preparing for my friend’s imminent return to the screen.

“Okay,” Nicole says in her usual ebullient voice as she returns to the screen decked out in her own shiny pointe shoes. “Let’s start with a few simple stretches, just plie down, as low as you can go, and slowly back up again. Those of you wearing pointe shoes, don't do this exercise en pointe until the fifth repetition. Don’t push yourself any further than you can go, especially if you’re en pointe- believe me, the results WON’T be pretty.” As I know second hand and you know first-hand, I think to myself as I remember back to when Nicole and I- along with Megan, Harriet, Priya and Suri- first learned to dance en pointe.

However, my enduring memory of that incident isn’t about the dancing or even the sound Nicole’s ankle made when it snapped (a sound that still makes me sick to this day). It’s the fact that mere days before, Nicole had (in my mind, at least) stolen my boyfriend and openly rubbed my face in it. Back then, of course, I didn’t know that Nicole had been diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome, and in all likelihood, I probably wouldn’t have cared. All I know is that in that moment, I absolutely despised her. And yet today, I can’t imagine my life without her as part of it- and the same goes for more people than just her.

All throughout my first year at school, nobody- with the obvious exception of Robert- made my life more miserable than Harriet did. No matter where I went or what I did, she made it her job to torment me, to provoke me until all I wanted to do was scream at her- or worse. And yet I soon came to realise that she was just as much a victim as I was, and for the same reason. Her own bigoted father all but forced her, threatened her even to be my bully, and yet she herself was hiding a similar ‘secret’ to me- that she was gay. Now, almost seven years later, Harriet is one of my biggest allies, if not my biggest ally outright. Her hatred for homophobes and transphobes, especially TERFs, is almost incandescent, but so is her love and acceptance of those who want to be allies, not to mention her love and acceptance of me. Even if she does openly consider it to be a ‘pity’ that I’m straight- not that she doesn’t love her own girlfriend, of course. Another girl whose entry into my life was comparable to Harriet’s own- I attended school with Mia for three years and barely exchanged five words with her, and even those were said with a sneer on her part. And then Sam Reid joined the school, giving Mia a choice- she could double down on her bullying and be one of the ‘popular’ kids, or hear my side of the story and become the eighth member of the ‘Excellent Eight’. Every day of my life, I’m glad she chose the latter option. Our group may not have been popular with the wider school population, especially not when it comes to the likes of Sam Reid, but our love and friendship for each other is genuine. And while it may be true that you can never have too many friends, I’d rather have seven best friends than seven hundred fake friends.

…Something that’s proved true roughly twenty minutes later when Lily’s ‘lesson’ ends and I switch on my laptop, immediately getting drawn into a group video chat.

“Hello ‘Miss Wyatt’!” I tease my dancewear-clad friend, who rolls her eyes before letting out a genuine giggle.

“Hey girlies!” Nicole replies with another giggle. “I take it you were all watching?”

“Of course,” Ashley says, giggling as she stretches her leg high to show her foot clad in her own shiny pointe shoe. “Cassie and Dorothy kinda wouldn’t forgive me if I didn’t dance along with them, heh.”

“And, of course, you love it really, don’t you?” Mia teases my fellow trans girl, who blushes and giggles.

“Well, duh!” Ashley replies, earning more giggles from all of us- myself included. “Though it would’ve been Bryony’s turn today if she hadn’t got up early and gone out with Sabrina somewhere.”

“Ugh, Sabrina’s always doing that whenever I’m streaming,” Nicole sighs. “Think she’s afraid I’ll force her to join in and demonstrate. And in fairness, she’s probably right, hehe! I miss the days when I could boss her around, heh.”

“How old is Sabrina now, anyway?” Suri asks.

“Fourteen,” Nicole replies. “Fifteen next month, she and Bryony are starting their GCSEs, which is a good way to make me feel REALLY old, heh.” Welcome to the club, I think to myself with a smile.

“You starting a full-time job isn’t enough to do that, then?” Harriet asks with a smirk.

“If the gym ever reopens,” Nicole sighs. “IF. I mean, sure, when you’re talking about a virus that spreads through fluids, somewhere that’s filled with sweat will literally be a death trap, but- yeah. At least I’ve got my Twitch channel, heh! I mean, I’m no Joe Wicks, but at least I’m-“

“Cuter?” Megan teases, giggling as Nicole blushes, before grinning and nodding.

“And stealing his audience?” Ashley teases. “Not to mention Ms. Fullerton’s!”

“Ah- now she gave me explicit permission to do these livestreams,” Nicole retorts. “She’s too busy with doing her summer intensive classes over livestream, anyway.”

“I wondered where Allie and Diana were,” Suri mused. “And have we invited Phoebe and Rachel to the chat too?”

“I have, but they haven’t answered yet,” Megan replies, making me smile- even though Megan only knows Rachel & Phoebe through me and Suri, and they’ve never been at the same school or college together, she still considers them to be just as much her friends as I do.

“Looks like it’s just the Excellent Eight today, then!” Suri giggles. “Or will be when my sister finally gets her arse online.”

“Nah, she already is,” Nicole says with a smug grin. “Unless you can think of another ‘P Malik’ who’s also a dancing queen?” I bite my lip to keep myself from shrieking with laughter as, right on cue, Priya joins the call- her damp hair and casual clothing betraying the fact that she’s clearly only just got out of the shower.

“Hey girlies!” The nineteen-year-old girl says in her soft Indian accent. “What’s the goss today?”

“Fitness instructors and dancing queens,” Suri replies with a grin. “And sometimes people who fit into both categories, hehe!”

“Yes, yes, alright,” Nicole says with false modesty- not that I can blame her for being smug. “Ahh… not that we’d be allowed to, because of you-know-what, but I miss the old days, you know, the eight of us at Ms. Fullerton’s class every Tuesday and Friday?”

“Yeah, me too,” Ashley sighs. “I mean, I DON’T miss school- well, except our old table, anyway- and I much prefer being seventeen to being fourteen, but- you know?”

“You’re not a big fan of change,” Mia muses.

“Well… I like SOME changes,” Ashley replies with a giggle and a wink that I mirror.

“The fact that we’re talking over a screen rather than face-to-face is one change I definitely DON’T like, though,” I sigh sadly.

“So’s not being allowed to hug anyone,” Mia mumbles. “And we WERE meant to be spending the summer all sprawled out on a beach somewhere, together…”

“And we will,” Megan says firmly. “If not this year, then next year. If not next year, then in 2022. Or 2023, 24, however long it takes.”

“Our head girl has spoken,” Harriet says, smirking as Megan rolls her eyes.

“I’m not wrong, though,” Megan says.

“And at least none of you are on my back anymore about going to Durham when none of us can meet face to face,” Priya says, blushing as six of us playfully jeer her, while the seventh- Suri- disappears from her screen, only to reappear seconds later on Priya’s screen, leaping on her back and wrapping her in a tight hug!

“Maybe not, like, metaphorically on your back, anyway,” Suri says, giggling as her sister struggles in vain to shake her off.

“Do NOT take this as an excuse for the two of you to go all PDA on us!” Nicole says, and while I can’t see who she’s pointing at on her screen, it’s pretty clear she’s addressing Harriet and Mia.

“Ugh, like that’s even an option,” Harriet sighs.

“Even with lockdown ‘easing’ my parents are being a pain about letting us see each other,” Mia sighs. “They say it’s because of covid, but I doubt they’d have the same problem if I had a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend.”

“Ugh,” I spit. “Will’s parents are kinda the same way, but- heh, and this applies to the both of you as well, we’re all adults- technically, anyway- so it should be up to us what we do, right?”

“Well- yes and no,” Harriet replies. “Mum’s still all ‘my roof, my rules’. Though God knows it’s an improvement on what dad would’ve been like. ANYTHING’s an improvement over that.”

“I hear you,” I whisper, earning a sympathetic smile from my bully-turned-friend.

“Thanks,” Harriet whispers. “Though as you DID just mention your boyfriend’s name…” I sigh and roll my eyes as my friends all playfully jeer, prompting me to slide off my bed, only to return to the screen a few seconds later with a lightweight pair of tights covering the top of my head.

“Seriously, when are we getting rid of this forfeit?” I ask, trying not to think about how much my forehead already itches in the August heat.

“Never,” Mia, Harriet and Ashley all say simultaneously, making me roll my eyes before giggling.

“So, we’re going to be having Zoom calls when we’re all old and grey with tights on our perms, are we?” I ask.

“I hope so,” Ashley says with a shrug- and it’s hard to argue with her.

“...Yeah, so do I,” I whisper, smiling happily as the conversation continues and I’m reminded how lucky I am to have such amazing friends.

If I hadn’t met Nicole, Suri and Harriet on my first day of school- my first hour of school, even- I genuinely don’t know what I’d have done. Sure, I’d still have worn the uniform, I’d still have done netball and gymnastics classes instead of rugby or cricket, I’d still have been prescribed anti-androgens and eventually oestrogen, but I wouldn’t have been the same Laura I am today. I probably wouldn’t have taken dance classes (I only started studying ballet thanks to Priya and Suri’s influence), I wouldn't have been a prefect- hell, I might not even have joined the drama club. And I wouldn’t have had the support of the most amazing friends any girl could ever hope for to pick me back up after the worst experience of my life. Support I’ll probably need tomorrow afternoon- but that I know I can count on whenever and wherever I need it.

That being said, though, there is one girl whose love and friendship I knew I’d be able to count on even if the ‘Excellent Eight’ had never been formed- the same girl who I’ve been proud to call my friend for fully two-thirds of my life, and the same girl who remains on the call after the other six leave.

“…I think you can take the tights off your head now,” Megan says with a giggle that I share as I remove the clingy undergarment and let my long blonde hair shake free.

“Is that your way of saying you approve of me talking about Will?” I ask in a teasing voice.

“Only if you approve of me talking about George,” Megan replies with a stuck-out tongue.

“Well, I highly approve of you going out with him, so on this occasion I’ll let it slide,” I retort, grinning as my BFF smiles happily at the thought of her tall boyfriend. “His birthday’s in October, isn’t it?”

“Yep,” Megan replies. “Why are you asking, exactly?”

“Just that it’s a coincidence that even though he’s in the school year below us, he’ll be eighteen just in time to go all the big student parties with you,” I say, grinning even wider as Megan rolls her eyes.

“One: big assumption we’ll be allowed to have any parties by October, student or otherwise,” Megan reminds me. “Two: me and George aren’t really, like, the big party type. And three… it won’t be the same without all eight of us there.”

“Oh- don’t make me cry, for god’s sake,” I moan as Megan smiles sadly.

“Yeah, it’s true, though,” Megan sighs. “End of an era- another era, heh.”

“Harriet and Mia will be at the University of London next year as well, won’t they?” I ask.

“Yeah, but Harriet’s studying creative writing and Mia’s studying politics, while I’m studying sociology,” Megan sighs. “We’ll be lucky if we even see each other at any point over the next 3 years. At least you and Suri are on the same course.”

“And we are all at least staying in London,” I say with a smile. “We’ll just have to throw our own parties. And, of course, invite all the new friends we make over the next three years!”

“Shall we hire Charlotte Hutchinson’s house for all of these parties, then?” Megan asks, giggling as I roll my eyes.

“Yeah, I wish I had THAT much influence with the Angels,” I snort.

“Give it five years, they’ll all be wishing they had that much influence with you!” Megan retorts, making me giggle. “Heh, long way from Miss Fletcher’s year 2 class, isn’t it?”

“God, and how,” I sigh. “I haven’t thought about that in years- then again, I tend not to, you know, think about primary school that much.”

“Would that be different if you’d worn the same gingham dresses and red cardigans that I and the other girls wore?” Megan asks sympathetically, smiling as I nod. “You know, it’s odd, but in my memories of primary school, I genuinely remember you as a girl back then. We actually did a few classes on this last year at college, it’s called, like, the ‘Mandela Effect’, ‘cause some people have distinct memories of Nelson Mandela dying in prison in the 80s or the 90s, when in reality, he was released, became president of South Africa and lived into his nineties.”

“And you have distinct memories of me going to primary school in a gingham dress and a red cardigan?” I ask.

“Yep,” Megan says. “Which is even weirder because I also have distinct memories of the last year of primary school, of wondering what it’d be like if ‘Leon’ was my boyfriend, heh.”

“I guarantee I’d have been the worst boyfriend ever,” I say stoically, before sharing another giggle with my BFF. “Mainly because I’d have been hopeless at the first syllable of ‘boyfriend’, heh.”

“…You being awesome at the second syllable of ‘boyfriend’ might have offset it a bit,” Megan says, making me bite my lip to keep tears from forming in my eyes.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have said that when I started hitting on every other guy in sight,” I retort, earning a genuine giggle from my best friend.

“You never thought about, you know, going down the ‘Ashley’ route when it came to, like, having girlfriends?” Megan asks.

“…Bit of a sensitive question, but as you’re my BFF I’ll let you off,” I reply with a wink as the bespectacled girl blushes. “And to answer your question, not really, I mean, I started transitioning when I was eleven. Sex wasn’t exactly high on my priorities list back then. But as for my, like, ‘orientation’… meh. I guess it’s the same as everyone else, I’m straight because I am. Girls are friends, boys are, like, boyfriends.”

“Gender identity really doesn’t have anything to do with orientation and vice versa,” Megan says, smiling as I nod. “Yeah, sometimes it can be, like, hard to remember that, you know?”

“I get it,” I say softly. “It’s kinda, like, hard to wrap your head around things that don’t impact you personally.”

“I wouldn’t say they don’t impact me personally,” Megan says, before grinning. “I’m serious! Would I have had the chance to do even 1 percent of the stuff I did as a kid if I wasn’t friends with you? Would I have had the chance to be a ballerina, to hang out with celebrities, or- hell, I only made friends with Nicole, Harriet, Priya and Suri because they were your friends first. Not to mention no you means no Ashley, which means no George, so- nuh-uh. It is a serious privilege to be your best friend, Laura.”

“Ugh, well, thank god I’m not wearing too much mascara,” I say, earning a giggle from my best friend. “And the same goes for you, really. Sisters for life?”

“Sisters forEVER,” Megan says.

“That definitely works for me,” I whisper. “…So, you’re confident you’d still have been head girl if we weren’t friends?”

“No, ‘cause I still say that should’ve been you!” Megan insists. “Seriously, Laura, you were, like, the face of the school for pretty much the whole time you were there.”

“For better or worse,” I snort.

“Definitely for better, as far as I’m concerned,” Megan says. “Okay, so there are idiots like the Reids in the school, there always will be. But screw them, right? They never beat us, they never won- WE did.”

“There’s one guy who nearly did win, though,” I mumble, barely suppressing a shudder.

“Yeah, well, fuck him,” Megan scoffs. “And as he’s still in prison- where he belongs- I mean that literally.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that only happens on TV,” I sigh. “I- I’ve got my video call with him tomorrow.”

“I still don’t know why you’re going through with it,” Megan says. “Like you said your counsellor told you, that letter’s meant to be for you and you alone.”

“Meh, I dunno,” I shrug. “I guess I- I just need him to see me. To see who I’ve become. He won’t be proud- heh. He doesn’t deserve to be proud. But- yeah. I guess I just want closure? I dunno.”

“I get it,” Megan says softly. “Just as long as you know that this is NOT the end of your story, not by a long way. And we’ll be here for you if you need us afterward. All of us.”

“Sisters forever?” I ask.

“Always,” Megan says with a giggle that I share, before letting out a happy sigh.

After plugging my laptop in to charge (it’s seen a lot of use over the last four and a half months, after all), I head downstairs for a quick lunch with my family, before sitting down with Lily in front of my PlayStation 4. Even though I’m not much of a gamer, the console is still technically mine (having received it from Ricky for my sixteenth birthday), and much like my laptop, it’s seen much more regular use since the start of lockdown. However, while Lily uses it for playing Minecraft and Lego Harry Potter, I use it more to chill out watching Netflix and playing more story-based games like Life is Strange. Mostly, though, it also provides the perfect opportunity to catch up with some friends who aren't as active on Zoom as the Excellent Eight.

“Hey Laura!” The familiar voice of Nikki Phillips-Thomas says as I log in to the voice chat room. “Didn’t think we’d be seeing you today?”

“Not like I’ve got anything else on right now,” I say with a sigh. “Not that I don’t enjoy spending time with you guys, but- yeah.”

“Yeah, I think we all know that feeling,” Nikki sighs. “Got any preferences over what game you want to play?”

“Nope, I’m basically just here to hang out anyway, so- yeah,” I reply. “Whatever you guys want to play is fine with me.”

“Well, that’s basically why I’m here too, so- yeah,” Nikki says as we share a giggle.

“Excellent, I’ll decide the game then,” Stuart says smugly, making me smirk as I hear several derisive snorts of laughter in my headset.

“BOY,” Nikki snorts. “And why are you playing with us and not looking after your daughter, anyway?”

“Because like I told Steph, Jamie’s taken Olivia out for a walk with her parents,” Stuart replies. “I’m looking after her all day tomorrow, though.”

“And then on Wednesday, ballet playdate with Krystie and the other toddlers in Charlotte’s back garden,” Steph says with an excited giggle. “Assuming my niece can pry herself away from my nephew, anyway.”

“Yep, I saw the video your brother put on Facebook,” Nikki says with a giggle.

“So did Jamie,” Stuart says. “Now we’re both seriously thinking about adopting again, despite the sleepless nights we had with Olivia.”

“Meanwhile, I’m more worried about the other side of the parent-child relationship-type thing,” I sigh.

“Ah- shit, I’m sorry, Laura, was your thing today?” Nikki asks.

“Tomorrow,” I reply. “And it’s okay, I- I kinda need to my mind off of it anyway, heh. Sorry if I brought the mood down…”

“Oh- god, don’t apologise at all,” Steph insists. “We’ve all been through shit in the pandemic, but that doesn’t mean we’re gonna, like, dismiss yours.”

“Totally,” Nikki concurs. “And if you need help taking your mind off it, then that’s what we’ll do.”

“Sorry, what is it we’re going to do?” Ian asks, having only just joined the chat.

“Slob out, play videogames and take our minds off of all the shit going on in the world right now,” Nikki replies.

“Sounds great to me,” Ian says. “Are we waiting on anyone else? Anyone from America?”

“Ehh… doubt it,” Nikki replies. “It’s only 9AM on the east coast and 8AM in Minnesota, so I think it’ll be just Brits in the call today.”

“Look at you, memorising time zones!” Stuart teases.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I had much else to do in lockdown,” Nikki sighs. “Plus, my dad’s a London cabbie, so he reckons a good memory runs in the family, like a genetic thing or something.”

“Yeah, well, trust me, genetics aren’t all they’re cracked up to be,” Ian scoffs. You said it, brother from a terrible mother, I think to myself.

“I think everyone on this call will agree with that,” Steph says as it only dawns on me that all five of us in the call had to grow up as the wrong gender- and all five of us have taken steps necessary to ‘correct’ our lives. All of us have had to deal with family members who refused to support us- or worse- and all of us know about the importance of helping others in our situation when it’s needed. Even when said ‘help’ consists of sitting in front of the PlayStation for 2 hours- though the distraction proves to be more than welcome.

Even though I got the tattoo shortly after my eighteenth birthday (which got me in a LOT of trouble with my parents at first), there’s a part of me that never felt like a ‘real’ member of what Jamie-Lee Burke dubbed ‘the Fellowship’. It might be because I don’t have an official ‘mentor’ in the same way that Nikki has Jamie or Ian has Stuart, or because the Excellent Eight are a much more ‘significant' friendship group to me. Regardless, I treasure their friendship just as much as I do Megan’s or the rest of the X8, as they know better than anyone what I’m going through. They’ve experienced a large chunk of what I’ve experienced- but with one key difference. None of them ever had to endure what Robert did to me. And while I won’t deny they’ve all endured other terrible things- especially Ian- they can’t give me the help I need, the closure I need. Though that hasn't stopped me from loving all of them like family.

After the gaming session ends and I and the rest of the family eat an early dinner, I head back to my bedroom, where I let out a sigh as I sit down with the project that I can’t distract myself from any further. After switching on my laptop, I open the file that’s been sat in the middle of my desktop for the last few weeks like an unsightly boil- the file labelled ‘robertletter.doc’.

I spend the next 45 minutes reading and re-reading the letter, adjusting various words, changing the inflection of some words and even altering the punctuation- which will be of hardly any importance when I’m reading the letter out loud, but I still want to be absolutely flawless. At the end of my editing session, I reread the letter again, sighing loudly as I realise that despite my tinkering, the letter is hardly any different than when I started. I close the document on my screen and prepare to shut my laptop down, preserving the battery charge so that it’s full for tomorrow, but before I do, I log in to Facebook to see if anyone’s available for a chat- and the smile instantly returns to my face when I see one name in particular, who I immediately call.

“Hey you,” I say with a grin as the smiling face of my boyfriend appears on screen.

“Hey you,” Will replies eagerly. “What are you up to right now?”

“Ugh, same thing we’ve all been up to for the last four months,” I snort, before grinning again as my boyfriend smiles sympathetically at me.

“I know the feeling,” Will sighs. “Just my luck I start going out with the hottest girl in the world when we’re all banned from going out full stop.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling too,” I sigh. “Well, about going out with the hottest GUY, anyway! Do you know when you’ll next be able to sneak out?”

“Tomorrow, hopefully,” Will replies. “Mum’s working and dad actually has to go into the office so won’t be working from home, and my older brother's taking my younger brother out to get a haircut, meaning I have the house to myself. Sorry- OURselves!”

“Ugh, I wish, I really do wish I could come over,” I sigh. “But tomorrow, I-“

“Oh, it- it’s your thing tomorrow,” Will interrupts. “With ‘that guy’.”

“’That guy’, yep,” I sigh.

“Are you okay?” Will asks gently, making me smile yet again- sensitive and sexy, all in one perfect package...

“I will be once it’s over,” I sigh. “And yes, I’d love to come round after the call with ‘that guy’, but we’ve made plans to go and see my grandmother afterward, so- yeah. Kinda not had many chances to see her or any of the rest of my family face-to-face since lockdown started, heh.”

“Even though you’re always telling me what a pain your brother is?” Will asks, chuckling as I roll my eyes.

“He’s manageable in small doses,” I say. “When he’s not being all ‘macho big brother stay away from my sister’-y, anyway.”

“Should I be worried?” Will asks.

“Nah, not since he got beaten up by a guy 6 inches shorter than him,” I reply with a smirk. “A trans guy six inches shorter than him, heh.”

“If the trans guy in question is your friend Ian, then that’s not too much of an ‘epic fail’,” Will says. “Didn’t you tell me he used to be an amateur boxer?”

“Umm… I don’t think he ever had any, like, ‘proper’ fights, but he definitely trained at a boxing gym,” I reply. “And I’m pretty sure I DIDN’T tell you that?”

“Huh, must’ve read it somewhere, maybe his Facebook page, I dunno,” Will replies.

“…Why are you on Ian’s Facebook page?” I ask. “I don’t think you’ve ever even met him?”

“Nah, but he’s, like, a friend of yours,” Will replies with a shrug. “I thought I should, you know, get to know your friends better, if we’re going to be together.”

“You- you DO know I’ve slept with Ian, right?” I ask nervously. “Because that’s all in the past, there’s no, like, ‘competition’ to check out?”

“Yeah, I get that,” Will says. “But your friends are important to you, so, well, they’re important to me.”

“…You are THE best boyfriend ever,” I say, blinking back tears as I blow a kiss at the screen.

“Well, I like to think so,” Will says with a very much deserved smug grin. “And besides, I don’t need to be jealous of Ian- he’s not the one who’ll be at the same university as you next year, is he?”

“Nope!” I giggle. “We’re going to have a hard time getting away with our usual type of PDA when in a lecture hall, though…”

“It might distract a few people, yep,” Will says, making me giggle again. “And with my aunt now working from home for the foreseeable future… yeah.”

“Well, at least we had one trip out there,” I say. “And there are plenty of other cool places for us to visit, even ones that are just in this country.”

“And we will,” Will says softly as I relax down onto my bed, smiling and feeling a warm sensation- one NOT caused by the heat of the summer- flood my body as we continue talking long into the night.

Eventually, though, tiredness starts to overtake us both and I reluctantly say goodbye to my boyfriend before climbing into my bed, sighing sadly as I realise that it'll be a long, long time before I share it with him. Will's mention of Ian, though, brings back memories not just of the Welsh trans man, but my other boyfriends as well- Kain, the sweet boy whose persistence finally paid off and whose heart I wish I hadn't broken; Scott, the total arsehole who I thankfully never went anywhere with; and Phil, my first 'real' boyfriend. My first kiss, my first relationship... my first experience of how men can be total pieces of shit. Thankfully, as I drift off to sleep, my thoughts aren't filled with Phil, but with the boy I'm currently with, who reminds me of just how warm, sensitive and loving some men have the potential to be. Well, those I'm not related to, anyway.

Unsurprisingly, I’m awake the following morning long before my alarm goes off- a combination of the summer heat, the light mornings and, most significantly of all, it being the day of my videocall with Robert.

“Morning,” mum says in a subdued, almost nervous voice as I pad downstairs and sit next to my sister at the breakfast table. “Did you sleep well, Laura?”

“Meh, as well as can be expected,” I mumble in reply. “Just want to get it over and done with.”

“Are you thinking of, umm, backing out of it at all?” Mum asks.

“…Maybe,” I reply quietly. “I mean, it’s not like I get stage fright much- heh. Not since I was eleven and first, well, ‘performing for the school’.”

“Being yourself is hardly a ‘performance’ though, is it?” Lily asks, making me smile.

“No,” I whisper. “No it isn’t. But not everybody can accept that.”

“Morons can’t,” Lily snorts, making me smirk as I expect her comment to get a rebuke from my mother, only for her to remain silent and shrug.

“…What?” Mum asks. “She isn’t wrong. Anyone just needs to look at you to know- KNOW that you’re a woman, Laura.”

“While I’ve got my pants on, anyway,” I snort derisively.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like you go around everywhere without your pants on is it?” Mum asks.

“And it’s pretty insulting, actually,” Lily says. “That being a woman is defined only by what’s in your pants. Like, is that all women are meant to be, a set of reproductive organs?”

“You are going to be an AMAZING ally,” I say, making the teenage girl squirm as I give her a gentle hug. “Already are, actually!”

“Yes, yes, okay!” Lily says, wriggling free of my hug. “But it’s just silly, you know? You go up to someone wearing one of your fancy dresses and your fancy make-up, and you say ‘sorry, but something you can’t see and you’ll never see means I’m actually a man’.”

“Some people think I should be defined that way, though,” I sigh.

“Yeah, well it’s none of their business how you live your life, surely?” Lily asks.

“Yeah, well, some people clearly have nothing better to do with their lives,” I sigh. Especially when they’re in prison, I think to myself. “Meh, I dunno. I mean, if I’m going to be an actress, if I’m going to be famous, I’ve got to get used to discrimination from the saddos of the world, like the Father Ted guy, JK Rowling or anyone who voted for Donald Trump.”

“Just as long as you know you have so, so many more people who support you,” mum says softly. “And I don’t just mean your friends and family, I know how many followers you have on Instagram and TikTok.”

“And there’s a lot of support for trans people in general on social media,” Lily says. “That girl from Neighbours has a huge following, so do a lot of the actresses on Pose.”

“Which you shouldn’t be watching at your age, as you well know,” mum reminds my thirteen-year-old stepsister, who frowns and pouts in response. “But seriously, Laura, you need to know that you have a lot, a LOT of people who are on your side and always will be.”

“Yeah, I know,” I sigh happily. “And it’s not like I don’t have, like, safe spaces, but- heh. Even Jamie-Lee Burke herself says that, like, all of their regular parties are always held at Charlotte Hutchinson’s house because it’s a guaranteed safe space, and that’s something that’s sadly kinda rare right now.”

“Especially as those parties have been indefinitely cancelled thanks to covid,” Lily reminds me.

“Well, we’ll just have to make our own safe spaces then, won’t we?” Mum says. “Like later today, when we see the family. The REAL family.”

“As safe as any space with Ricky in it can be, anyway,” Lily snorts as I smile sympathetically- thanks to covid, it’s not like she can simply go to a friend’s house, meaning there’s no avoiding Ricky for her today.

“Guess I’ll just have to have your back like you’ve got mine, then,” I say, earning a smile from my sister as I finish my breakfast. Almost immediately, my stomach starts to churn as I know what’s coming next- a confrontation that I won’t be able to avoid, but unlike Lily, one I've chosen to bring on myself.

“Are you okay?” Mum asks softly, smiling as I nod.

“Just want to get this over with,” I whisper.

“Are you sure you don’t want me in the room with you?” Mum asks.

“I’m sure,” I say. “He can’t hurt me over a computer screen.” Not physically, anyway…

After showering (and barely avoiding throwing up with nerves), I brush out my long, golden blonde hair and leave it hanging loose, perfectly framing my face. I apply a light layer of foundation and bronzer, following up with a pair of my favourite false eyelashes, heavy eyeliner, dusky eyeshadow and a mix of two of my favourite lipsticks. Maybe a bit heavy for someone who isn't leaving the house, but I have a message to send today, and I need to make sure it'll be heard. Or seen. Whatever.

I smile nervously as I examine the clothes I’ve picked out for today- while they're about as casual as my outfits get, the significance of the clothes isn’t lost on me. A short denim skirt and a glittery pink t-shirt is the first outfit I ever wore as ‘Laura’ over seven years ago, and while the skirt wasn’t as (relatively) short as the one I’m wearing now, and the t-shirt was a lot less ‘clingy’ (and I wasn't wearing a bra and definitely not a thong back then), this outfit still brings back a lot of fond memories. Not to mention a feeling of true acceptance- not just by my family, but by myself. An outfit that confirms to me that I am who I want to be, who I was destined to be- who I deserve to be. And no one can take this away from me. Especially not the man who tried harder than anyone else.

I take a deep breath before logging into Zoom, and before long I’m notified of an incoming call- the caller identified as ‘Doctor R Blake’- who, unsurprisingly, wants to talk with me to make sure I’m ready for what’s about to happen.

“Good morning, Laura,” Dr Blake says as I answer the call. “How are you feeling today?”

“Nervous,” I reply instantly. “Borderline freaking out, actually.”

“That’s perfectly understandable,” Dr Blake says softly. “Just remember that you are in no danger, no threat here. I will be on the call and in charge of it the whole time, and if I think you’re in any danger to your mental state, I will remove Robert from the call- and remember that he will have a guard alongside him at all times as well.”

“I know,” I whisper. “Have- have you read the latest draft of the letter I sent you last night?”

“I have,” Dr Blake replies. “As you know, these words have to come from you alone, I can’t advise or nudge you to word it any particular way, other than to ask if you’ve said everything you want to say?”

“I think so,” I reply, my teeth starting to chatter as my nerves reach breaking point. “I’m going to have to read it from the screen as our printer’s run out of ink, but- yep.”

“Okay,” Dr Blake says. “I think we’re ready, but I want to hear it from you just once more- do you want me to bring Robert into the call?” Well, it’s now or never, I think to myself, and as appealing as ‘never’ sounds right now, I’m reminded of a saying my friend Steph (as weird as it sounds to have a national celebrity as a friend) is fond of- you only regret the things you DON’T do.

“…Let’s do this,” I say, bringing up the Word document on my screen but keeping the Zoom window open so I can see when Robert appears onscreen… which he does mere seconds later. I feel my whole body start to shake with fear and I feel myself hyperventilating before reminding myself that I’m perfectly safe- he is miles and miles away, after all, and Dr Blake has promised to pull the plug the second he looks like he’ll be stepping out of line.

“Good morning, Robert,” Dr Blake says. “As I explained to you before, this call is for Laura’s benefit only. She will be reading a prepared statement to you, and you must not interrupt her. Once she is done, and only if she agrees, will you be allowed to speak.” I bristle at the notion that Dr Blake has already spoken to Robert about today, even though she already told me that she did last week. What intrigues me more, though, is that Robert doesn’t bristle himself when Dr Blake uses the pronoun ‘she’ to describe me.

“I understand,” Robert mumbles, unable to look at the camera as he speaks- though I can’t tell whether that’s due to shame or because he can’t bear to look at me. I take a deep breath to steel myself, before looking directly at the camera.

“R- Robert,” I say, my voice quivering despite my best efforts. “I want to start this letter by telling you that I’m doing okay. Great, in fact- I’m starting university in September, I’m making good money modelling and from social media, on which I have thousands of followers and supporters. I have many close friends, including a boyfriend whom I adore. And I have a loving family- I have a brother, a sister, a grandmother, a mother and most especially a father. My father’s name is Sean.” I pause, expecting an angry reaction from Robert, but when his facial expression doesn’t change, I continue. “He’s only been in my life a few years, but he has been the father I always wanted to have. He’s patient, he’s mild-mannered, and he accepts me unconditionally as the woman that I am- in fact, he did so from day one without prejudice. Prejudice that I face on a daily basis simply for the quote-unquote ‘crime’ of being the person- the WOMAN that I am. But no amount of prejudice will be as bad as the crime you committed against me. Whether or not you believe you were helping me is irrelevant. My life is my own, and it was six years ago as well. Your actions caused only damage, and continue to do so. I did not, and do not need ‘fixing’. Being who I am is not an illness, it is not a disease, it is not a mental disability. Being a woman has made me happier than I have ever been in my life, and you tried to destroy my happiness and destroy my life. I will never forgive you for what you did, and you will never be my father again- and in many ways, you never were to begin with. All I want from you is for you to stay out of my life forever. No calls, no letters, no Christmas or birthday cards, nothing. What you choose to do with Ricky is entirely between you and him. But I don’t want you in my life anymore. And… that’s it, I’ve said all I need to say. If you want to say anything, it’s now or never.”

“Well- okay,” Robert says in a much more subdued voice than I was expecting. “You’re right when you say that you’re an adult now and you can do whatever with your life. But six years ago, you were a child. You were MY child. If you saw your child being hurt, what would you do?”

“Not hurt them more,” I reply, momentarily silencing the middle-aged man.

“…I saw my son being dressed as a girl,” Robert says, clearly struggling to remain calm. “What am I supposed to do in that situation?”

“Ask your child if that’s what they really want?” I answer. “Not ‘kidnap them, take them hundreds of miles away and abuse them’.”

“I- I never, EVER abused you,” Robert says, his calm demeanour almost immediately cracking.

“Nearly breaking my hand with your phone?” I retort.

“I- I was just trying to toughen you up a little,” Robert mumbles.

“Oh yeah?” I ask. “Did Ricky or anyone else tell you that as a result of your ‘toughening me up’, I’ve fought against bulimia for the last 6 years? That simply seeing you at grandma’s funeral the Christmas before last sent me so far off the deep end that I went around sleeping with any guy I could get my hooks into?”

“Are you-“ Robert snarls, before taking a deep breath to try to calm himself. “Are you trying to make me angry?”

“…Maybe I am,” I concede, before sighing. “Why- why did you send me the card for my 18th birthday?”

“Because I’m your father,” Robert replies bluntly. “By blood if nothing else anymore. And I- I do still love you.” I bite my lip as I hear the words I secretly longed to hear for so many years- though deep down, I know- or at the very least, I have to believe- that his love is solely for ‘Leon’ and not ‘Laura’.

“The feeling isn’t mutual,” I say. “Please, please stay out of my life from this point onward. Permanently.”

“If that’s what you want,” Robert says. “Goodbye, Laura.” I quietly nod as Robert is removed from the conversation, before slumping back onto my bed as tears slowly trickle from my eyes.

“Laura?” Dr Blake asks. “Are- are you still there?”

“Ugh, yeah, yeah, I’m here,” I moan as I sit back up and face the camera, grimacing as I can see that the few tears I've shed have already ruined my make-up.

“You did very well, Laura,” Dr Blake says softly. “I know that was difficult, but it’s done now.”

“Well- true, I guess,” I say, before sighing. “Ah, shit, I forgot to mention SRS to him- meh, whatever. THAT’s none of his business either.”

“Exactly,” Dr Blake concurs. “His opinions, his feelings are none of your concern. What’s important is how YOU feel going forward. And how are you feeling now that the letter is behind you?”

“…Like I’ve finally got some closure,” I reply. “I’ve said what I needed to say, he listened- miraculously- and- well, it’s like I’m finally free. Free of him and all the shit he caused me, I can, I suppose, just get on with my life.”

“And what is it you want to do now?” Dr Blake asks. “Discounting the current global situation, if you could do any one thing right now, what would it be?”

“…Hang out with my friends,” I reply with a sad smile.

“Is that the same thing you would’ve wanted to do if you hadn’t spoken to Robert today?” Dr Blake asks.

“The same, yep,” I whisper. “I’m probably going to call them after this meeting, so- yeah. But I- I do feel much better, honestly.”

“That’s very good to hear,” Dr Blake says as I start to relax. “Have you thought anymore about the second letter I asked you to write?”

“A bit,” I reply with a sad smile as my counsellor sits back and listens intently.

The meeting lasts for another 45 minutes, and the second I end the call and my status ticks back to ‘available’, another group chat request appears on my screen- the names already in the chat immediately making me smile. After hastily fixing my makeup, I click on ‘answer’ and giggle as seven familiar faces appear on my screen.

“Hey girlies!” I squeak happily.

“Hey Laura!” My friends all eagerly shout simultaneously.

“How- how did it go today?” Megan asks nervously.

“It- it went great,” I reply. “Seriously, I’m fine. But much happier to be talking to all of you now, hehe!”

“X8 for life?” Suri asks, crossing her arms across her chest with her thumbs tucked inward, the ‘X8 salute’ we all agreed upon ages ago, but it feels like we haven’t ‘performed’ in months. However, I’m only too happy to ‘salute’ my friends today- the seven girls who are more family than friends, and who shall remain my friends for the rest of my life.

The chat only lasts a few minutes, though, before I have to reluctantly tear myself away. After touching up my make-up a little more, I slip my feet into a pair of cute sandals with a 2” cork wedge heel and exchange my t-shirt for a tight crop top and my favourite lightweight summer overshirt, tying it off so my that flat (and very cute) belly is on show. A quick spritz of my favourite perfume later, and I’m following my family down to Sean’s car, where we make the short trip to my grandmother’s bungalow on the outskirts of Lewisham, where she's waiting for us in her back garden.

“Ah, hello!” Grandma enthuses as we approach. “Obviously, I would normally hug you all, but-“

“It- it’s okay, we get it,” mum chuckles as we sit down opposite the elderly woman. “How’ve you been keeping, mum?”

“As well as can be expected,” Grandma replies. “Which is easier now that things are starting to reopen. Are you all staying safe?”

“Yep,” Sean replies. “Everyone at work is really on it when it comes to washing hands and keeping things like tools and parts sterile, so- yep.”

“Laura?” Grandma asks. “I know it must be tempting, what with this being your big summer break before university, but are you staying safe as well?”

“Well- from covid, I am,” I reply. “I- heh. I kinda had my video call this morning with, umm, with Robert.”

“I see,” Grandma says, her demeanour darkening at the mention of that man’s name before the smile returns to her face. “Well, at least it’s over and done with now, isn’t it?”

“Yep!” I say with a smile. “Honestly, I- I’m glad it’s behind me. I’ve got all the family I need right here.”

“Charming,” I hear a familiar soft Yorkshire accent say, making me roll my eyes as he enters the back garden hand-in-hand with his copper-haired girlfriend.

“…And you too, I suppose,” earning a snort of laughter from Lily as our brother rolls his eyes before holding his arms out as though he was waiting for a hug.

“Come on, air hugs,” Ricky says expectantly.

“How- how would that even work?” I ask, snorting derisively as Ricky gives up and lowers his arms.

“Hi everyone,” Alice says with a wide grin. “How is everyone, then? Keeping safe, I hope?”

“Oh, it’s not like there’s much else for us to do nowadays anyway,” Grandma replies. “I hope you’ve been keeping safe, I heard what happened to your friend Stephanie?”

“How- how do you know about Steph getting covid?” I ask.

“She’s your friend and she’s Alice’s friend,” Grandma replies with a shrug. “That means she’s important to the both of you, which means she’s important to me.” Needless to say, this makes me smile and bite my lip as tears start to form in my eyes. THIS is what true unconditional love and acceptance looks like.

“Aww, thanks Margaret!” Alice giggles, clearly getting emotional herself. “Yeah, pretty much everything I’ve done over the last four months has been over Zoom, whether it’s TV spots or promotions for Instagram or whatever. But I’m not staying cooped up inside in this weather, heh!”

“And we’re both covid-free, which is what you actually asked,” Ricky says, smirking as his girlfriend and our grandmother roll their eyes before directing his attention toward me and the rest of my household. “You guys okay?”

“Not bad, all things considered,” mum replies. “These two are making the most of summer, or trying to, anyway.”

“Glad to hear it,” Ricky says, before turning to Lily and making the young girl flinch. “So, Lily, have you got a boyfriend yet?” And THIS brings back memories, I think to myself as I give my sister’s hand a gentle supportive squeeze.

“It- it’s none of your business,” Lily mumbles in reply.

“What?” Ricky protests. “I’m only asking, have you got a boyfriend yet?”

“Leave the poor girl alone,” Grandma chastises my brother, though just like throughout my childhood, I know this won’t deter him.

“It’s a straightforward enough question,” Ricky shrugs. “And I’m just interested in my little sister’s life. Have you got a boyfriend yet?” I try not to smirk as I hear Lily take a deep breath, before looking our brother square in the eye.

“No,” Lily replies firmly. “All the boys at school are too much like you, and it’s kinda put me off boys for a while.” Needless to say, everyone in the garden- with the obvious exception of Ricky- roars with laughter, and no one’s smile is wider than mine as I congratulate my sister with a high-five.

“I try to take some interest and this is the thanks I get?” Ricky pouts, even though clearly no one’s buying it.

“Richard White, you brought that on yourself!” Grandma scolds. “Very nicely put, Lily.”

“Thanks, Grandma,” Lily says with a smug grin that makes our brother scowl.

“Do either of you have anything planned for the rest of the summer?” Alice asks myself and my sister with a smile. “Obviously bearing in mind everything that’s going on, like.”

“Nope,” Lily replies. “Just hanging out, chatting with friends online, that’s it.”

“Same here,” I say. “Heh, me and the other girls had SO many plans for this summer, but- yeah. I suppose they can wait until next year. Ashley isn’t eighteen yet anyway, so it kinda works, I guess. Though I was looking forward to meeting Priya’s new friends- she’s studying at Durham University and has made a bunch of new friends that I’ve chatted with online, but not actually met face to face yet as they all live up north.”

“Yeah, I haven’t seen my family since lockdown started either,” Alice- who grew up not far from Durham- says with a sigh.

“Well, I hope we’re a good enough substitute for the time being,” Grandma says, earning a warm smile from the Angel.

“More than good enough,” Alice confirms.

“Are you looking forward to uni, Laura?” Ricky asks, his tone more subdued and less 'teasing' than when he questioned Lily.

“Definitely,” I say. “Provided I can actually GO to university and it’s not all done over Zoom, heh. Kinda tough doing a stage performance into a webcam!”

“Try teaching PE over Zoom,” Ricky retorts.

“Ooh, are you teaching full time now?” Grandma asks.

“I'm just about to start my PGCE, then I'll be teaching full time next September- so in September 2021,” my brother replies. “Of course, I won’t be making as much money as Alice, but I will at least be doing something worthwhile.”

“Are you implying that I DON’T?” Alice asks with what I know to be mock indignation.

“No, of course not,” Ricky replies, giving his girlfriend’s thigh a gentle squeeze. “Especially thanks to the virus, we need entertainment more than ever nowadays. Which, yes, includes actresses.”

“Glad you approve,” I say with a smug smile of my own.

“Well, it shouldn’t really matter if I approve or not,” Ricky shrugs. “It IS your life.” Like father, like son, I think to myself with a smirk. Except that Ricky isn’t- he’s been a jerk for virtually all of my life and thought nothing of winding me up for his own amusement, but when it came down to it, he always thought of my needs first- making him very UNlike his father. He even apologised for passing on Robert's birthday card to me, something that Robert himself failed to do in our call.

“…But you do approve, right?” I ask.

“Not of you wearing a skirt THAT short, but otherwise- yes,” Ricky replies, his own smug grin widening as I roll my eyes.

“It’s hot, and I’m cute,” I retort as our grandmother rises to her feet.

“Right, well, I’ll get the food and the drink out for you all,” Grandma announces as Ricky and I instinctively stand up as well. “And I do NOT need any help, thank you very much. I may be old, but I can still carry some plates a few feet from the kitchen to the garden.”

“If you’re sure,” I say.

“Positive,” Grandma concurs. “And covid or no covid, you had a big day today. So just sit back and let us treat you for a while.”

“Is this ‘treat’ pink and frothy by any chance?” Ricky asks.

“Good guess!” Grandma chuckles. “And as a special treat, I’ve also written up the recipe on cards for my daughter and my granddaughters- all three of them.” I have to blink back tears as Grandma looks me in the eye as she says the word ‘granddaughters’. “Seven years ago, I only had two grandsons. And while I loved- and still do love- them very much, I never thought at my age I’d have three amazing granddaughters.”

“Thanks, Grandma,” I whisper emotionally.

“Thanks Grandma,” Lily says with a proud smile.

“Thanks, Grandma,” Alice says with a wide grin as she rests her head on Ricky’s shoulder.

The seven of us spend the afternoon enjoying Grandma’s food- especially her special strawberry mousse- which is as delicious and filling as always, before relaxing and simply enjoying each other’s company. When we’ve finished eating, mum and I volunteer to do the washing up (with me using a pair of rubber gloves to protect my nails, of course), which gives me the chance I've wanted since this morning's call to speak with her privately.

“…Thanks again,” I say quietly as I dry the dishes.

“For what?” Mum asks.

“For asking the question,” I reply. “When I was eleven. I mean- it wasn’t easy for me to answer- not, like, when it comes to what the answer was, but actually saying ‘yes, I wish I was a girl’ out loud- you know?”

“I can imagine,” mum whispers.

“But, like, it must’ve been just as hard to ask the question in the first place,” I muse, biting my lip as mum pauses.

“…A little,” my mother concedes. “When you give birth to a boy, you expect them to eventually become a man. Whether that’s because of nature and biology, or because that’s what we’ve been told society says must happen, I dunno. All I know is that I’m glad I asked the question.”

“Me too,” I whisper.

“If-“ mum says, before biting her lip as she ponders her next words. “If I hadn’t asked the question, do you- do you think you’d have come out to me eventually?”

“Eventually? Maybe,” I reply with a shrug. “I know enough biology to know that if I hadn’t taken puberty blockers when I was twelve, I’d probably have ended up being as tall and muscular as Ricky, and THAT thought- eurgh.”

“Your friend Megan is taller than Ricky, isn’t she?” Mum asks.

“Well, yeah, but she-“ I say, before sighing and chuckling. “She’s got biology on her side. Well, in some of the ways that count. I dunno. Anatomically, like?”

“…You still sometimes feel ‘out of place’, don’t you?” Mum asks softly, as I bite my lip to keep tears from trickling down my cheeks.

“Sometimes?” I reply in a tiny voice. “I think every girl- well, ‘girl like me’ does sometimes. I know Ash has talked about it a lot too.”

“If it’s any consolation,” mum says, “I think everybody in the world feels like that sometimes, regardless of their- well, ‘status’.”

“Most people don’t have entire organisations dedicated to erasing their identity, though,” I mumble.

“Yeah, well, sadly there’ll always be people who let themselves be defined by who or what they hate,” mum sighs. “God knows there are enough examples of that in the world right now too, and I don’t just mean for ‘girls like you’.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Sometimes it’s hard to know how to respond to people like that, people who are so determined that their right to abuse me is more important than my right to simply exist.”

“I wish I knew too,” mum sighs. “Fortunately, you’ve got lots of friends and family to fall back on.”

“The best friends,” I say with a wide grin. “And the best family, too.”

“Now THAT’s a feeling I know all too well,” mum says with a wide grin as we carefully put away Grandma’s crockery. “Come on, knowing your brother he’s probably regrouped on Lily, heh.” I smile as I follow my mother back to the garden, where as predicted, Ricky has started teasing Lily again. Fortunately, the 13-year-old girl- who I am proud to call my sister- is once again giving just as good as she’s getting. As much as a pain as my family can be at times, I wouldn't exchange the six people in this garden for anyone.

The car ride home passes by in near-silence (thanks in large part to Ricky and Alice taking their own car home), but this gives me time to reflect on what mum and I both said. In spite of everything, I AM lucky to have lived the life I have. Lucky to have the friends and the family- the REAL family- that I do. Lucky to have had the opportunity to become an actress, a model, a dancer- and simply the opportunity to be a girl. And while I would give almost anything to not have gone through what Robert did to me, the one price I won’t pay is giving up being the woman I have become. Because I deserve to be a woman. I deserve to be a proud, to be successful- and most of all, to be happy. And I am happy. I wish that I could travel back in time and tell my 12-year-old self that it’ll be okay, that despite everything that will happen, I will come out on top. I will ‘win’. And while I can’t do that, there is something I can do- the same thing I spoke to Dr Blake about this morning.

When I return home, I head up to my bedroom, where I take two small photographs out of my nightstand and carefully lay them on my bed. The first photograph is of me on my last day of primary school- an image of an average-looking blond-haired eleven-year-old boy with blue eyes. The next photo was taken just a few months later and of the same person, but the context of the photo is entirely different. For starters, the plain grey jumper the ‘boy’ was wearing has been replaced by a plain white blouse, dark red blazer and a striped tie (and, even though it can’t be seen in the photo, the ‘boy’s’ plain black trousers have been replaced by a knee-length grey pleated skirt and a pair of thick grey tights). The ‘boy’s’ hair has grown, but not by much, while ‘his’ ears have been enhanced with a pair of plain gold studs and ‘his’ eyes have been enhanced with a light layer of mascara and eyeliner. Most importantly of all, though, is that the person in the second photo is unambiguously a girl- the same girl I am today.

As I wait for my laptop to boot up, I take both photos and hold them either side of my head as I look at myself in my full-length mirror. It’s almost impossible to believe that I’m the same person as the kid in the photos, but I know that I obviously am- though in many ways (and not just the ‘obvious’ ones) I’ve changed so much that the photos- especially the earlier one, of the boy- may as well be of total strangers.

Once my laptop has booted up, I open another Word file I’ve been working on for months, before placing my primary school photo on the side of the screen and taking a deep breath.

“…Leon,” I say, musing on how alien that name sounds despite it having been my name for more than half my life. “The next few years aren’t going to be easy for you. You’re going to face bullies and arseholes on an almost daily basis, people who think you deserve to be punished simply for being who you are. You’re going to struggle with your self-image, sometimes on a daily basis. And your father will commit a crime so terrible it will give you nightmares for years. But once all is said and done, you will come out on top. You’re going to be the girl you always dreamed of being. You’re going to wear skirts to school, you’re going to have sleepovers, go to dance classes, even to fancy dress parties and to a prom when you’re sixteen. You’re going to be a cheerleader, a ballerina, a gymnast, a model and all those things you dreamed of being one day. You’ll even have boyfriends- one of whom you will fall deeply in love with. There will be days when it seems like the entire world is ganging up against you, but one thing you will always have is family- and friends. Seven of the best friends any girl, trans or otherwise, could hope to have. Friends who will accept you without question and help you take giant leaps forward in your life. Friends who will enable you to be the girl you always dreamed of, and much, much more. And family who will do just the same- mum, Grandma, a stepfather, a stepsister, even Ricky will always stand by you. You will have a lot more support than you could ever have imagined. And a lot more to look forward to than you ever could have imagined, too.” Much like I do, I think to myself as I place the photos back in my nightstand, before closing my laptop and staring into my mirror.

I AM Laura Jade Ruddock. I AM a woman. I AM a cheerleader, a ballerina, a gymnast, a model and so, so much more. I am a daughter, a granddaughter, a sister and best of all, a friend. I’ve endured my hardships and I’ve come out on top. And I have so, so much more to look forward to. More than I could ever imagine…

----------

FIVE AND A HALF YEARS LATER

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Okay, I think to myself as I try not to tremble with nerves. You’ve gone through this moment a million times in your head, now it’s the real thing.

A wide smile spreads across my face as the handsome young man raises the delicate lace veil of my flowing white silk dress and looks deep into my eyes, before gently clasping his hands in mine.

“I,” the young man says in an emotional voice barely louder than a whisper. “Stuart Raymond Middleton, take y- it- it’s Milton, isn’t it?” I smile sympathetically as my co-star grimaces and lets out a long sigh.

“Okay, cut there,” the director says as we and the extras return to our marks.

“I mean, it’s LITERALLY my character’s surname,” Ross- the actor playing Stuart- moans in his native Glaswegian accent as two make-up girls touch up our make-up.

“Well, if we ever go on to play William and Kate, we’ll be fine,” I tease, laughing as Ross gives me a gentle nudge with his elbow (which causes a wardrobe boy to rush on set and smooth out any creases in my dress).

“Aye, everyone’s going to love that, aren’t they?” Ross says with a snort of laughter. “A trans man and woman playing the future king and queen? From what you were telling me about Dina and her family alone, that would NOT go down well with a lot of people.”

“Well, maybe they’ll get lucky and in the future, there’ll be an actual transgender king or queen?” I tease, making Ross giggle as our director approaches us.

“We just need to get some of the lighting re-set,” Jonathan- the director- says with a smile. “In the meantime, take ten minutes, grab some water, then we’ll go again.”

“Sure,” I say, moving carefully in my voluminous dress as I find my reserved chair and take the weight off my feet.

A lot has happened since 2020, so much so that the girl I was back then is almost as unrecognisable to me now as the girl I was in 2013 was to me then. And I don’t just mean in the physical sense- though it was a relief to finally have my SRS in the summer of 2022, once covid became a bit more ‘manageable’. What people often tell you about SRS is the amount of pain you have to endure until it finally becomes ‘normal’, and while I was prepared for that, the lack of dignity involved with the operation was a little bit worse. From having my feet up in stirrups, to barely being able to move, to being catheterised more than once, at times it felt like my ordeal would never end- but it did. And unlike the ordeal I went through exactly eight years earlier, I came through this one undeniably stronger than before. Because, like my ordeal of 2014, I had my family and friends around me.

Mum and dad made a fuss of me, as expected, but Lily truly stepped up to play nursemaid as well, and with social distancing limits a thing of the past, my friends were round on a daily basis to help me feel better- as was Will. True to his ‘Prince Charming’ reputation, he sat by my side as I convalesced, and even when I was back on my feet, he didn’t pressure me into sex until I felt completely ready for it. And just over a year later, on my 22nd birthday, no less, Will got down on one knee and asked me to be his wife. How could I say no?

While I still have just the one ring on my finger right now (well, back in my trailer at this exact second as I’m wearing a prop ring for the production), that hasn’t stopped us from planning- though our careers are taking priority right now. After graduating from university (with a first, naturally) and studying for a year at RADA, I quickly began landing roles in stage performances, both in the West End and further afield- I even did a one-week tour of Toronto with a performance I was in. All of which got me noticed by various television production companies, which directly led to my being cast in the lead role in this production- though the woman this biopic is about may have had a hand in my casting!

“Hey Laura!” The unmistakable voice of Jamie-Lee Burke says as she elegantly lowers herself onto the seat next to me. “You’re looking great out there, hehe!”

“Thanks!” I giggle, trying not to crease my dress too much. “And thanks again for recommending me for this role, I- heh. I was just talking with Ross about how trans roles are the only ones I’m ever likely to be cast in, so I imagine there were a LOT of people who went for this one.”

“Well- yeah, but only one I wanted in the role,” Jamie says softly. “Don’t think of it as you only getting the role because of, like, nepotism, though. You got it because I know how hard you’ve worked on your career. And- and because I know that what you’ve been through, it- well, most girls, even girls like us, aren’t going to be able to, like, understand.”

“Well- yeah…” I say, trying not to flinch at the thought of Robert.

“Sorry if I, like, touched a nerve there,” Jamie mumbles.

“No- no, it’s okay,” I sigh. “I haven’t even thought about him in months, heh. To give the devil- literally- his due though, he hasn’t made any attempt whatsoever to contact me since he got released from prison, so- heh. Maybe he’s learned, I dunno.”

“Well, just as long as you’re focussing on the positive things in your life,” Jamie chuckles. “Well, when not pretending to be me, anyway.”

“When not being paid to pretend to be you,” I retort, earning an eye roll and a giggle from the famous trans woman.

“Okay, okay, miss superstar actress!” Jamie teases. “Well, soon to be ‘Mrs. superstar actress’, anyway! Have you cleared your mantlepiece for all the BAFTAs and Oscars you’re going to win? I’ve heard this biopic is being thought of as award fodder…”

“Maybe,” I tease as the director calls me and the other performers back to our marks. “It’s just nice to be seen and recognised as the woman I am.”

“I couldn’t have put it better myself,” Jamie says with a grin. “And who knows? Maybe ten years from now, a young trans actress might be starring in the story of Laura Ruddock?”

“Anything's possible,” I reply with a grin as I think of how my life is solid proof of just how true that statement is. And while I may not know what the future holds, but one thing’s for certain- I can’t wait to find out!