A French Twist
Mom went back for her own plate and we started in. Before long, she sat down, smiling at us mischievously.
“I have great news!”
“What’s that, Mom?” Carly playfully challenged her through a mouthful of garlic bread.
“We’re going to Paris for the last two weeks of July!”
Mom clapped her hands together and beamed across the table. Carly and I went silent. I stared at Mom as I digested the news, my fork frozen on its way to my mouth.
“Well, don’t all cheer at once!” She gibed, as her furrowing brow betrayed a taint of hurt.
A FRENCH TWIST
Chapter 1 — Home — June 2009
I stared in the mirror at the faint scar across the bridge of my nose, wondering if I would ever overcome my fear. The events behind that scar had taken place five states away, and yet they haunted me as though they had happened in my own front yard.
I looked out my window at the half a dozen kids chasing each other on their rollerblades, shouting, laughing and enjoying the start of summer vacation. They were free from school, but more importantly, they were free from fear — and I had yearned for their freedom every day of my life.
“Chrissy! Dinner’s ready!”
“Coming, Mom!”
I walked across my bedroom to my aquarium full of angel fish and gave them their dinner before I headed downstairs for mine. For a moment, I watched the fish swim around, transfixed by the effortless grace of their movements. I identified with the limitation of their existence, but at the same time, I envied the fish the safety of their world, a world free of hate.
Shaking my head to bring myself back to reality, I turned and headed downstairs.
“You look pretty, Chrissy!”
“Thanks, Carly!”
I smiled at Carly as I sat down at the table. Carly was a pretty cool little sister and she was only two years younger. We got along nicely. Mom brought us steaming plates full of spaghetti and garlic bread and placed them next to our salads. She had an impish grin on her face and a twinkle in her eye.
Hmmm. Something’s up. I just know it!
“Go ahead and start, you two.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Carly kidded.
“That’s our Carly.” I joked.
Carly merely smiled at me.
Mom went back for her own plate and we started in. Before long, she sat down, smiling at us mischievously.
“I have great news!”
“What’s that, Mom?” Carly playfully challenged her through a mouthful of garlic bread.
“We’re going to Paris for the last two weeks of July!”
Mom clapped her hands together and beamed across the table. Carly and I went silent. I stared at Mom as I digested the news, my fork frozen on its way to my mouth.
“Well, don’t all cheer at once!” She gibed, as her furrowing brow betrayed a taint of hurt.
“Um, Mom? That’s great news and all, but, who will take care of Frankie?” Carly asked on behalf of her beloved cat.
“Emma’s coming to house sit for us. She will take very good care of Frankie,” Mom turned to me, “and your angel fish, too, Chrissy.”
Carly and Mom excitedly chattered about the trip. I, on the other hand, was silent. I unconsciously fingered the little scar on the bridge of my nose as a thousand pressing concerns invaded my mind.
Emma was my mother’s best friend and Carly and I loved her like an aunt. Unfortunately, Emma knew me as Christopher. She had no idea that Chrissy existed.
I pictured the svelte platinum blonde walking into my room, uttering a startled gasp and staring in disgust at my female belongings. Like every other girl, I had dresses, skirts and blouses in my closet and my dresser was crowded with cosmetics, jewelry and hair supplies. I had a couple of stuffed animals resting in front of my pillows. On my nightstand was a small vase with a flower that I kept there because I liked what it did for me. My mind was fraught with images of Emma flipping out, running from the house, and screaming to anyone who would listen that a freak lived there.
I realized that I was going to have to remove every expression of my true self from my own room unless I wanted to come out to Emma.
I felt my teeth grind as I thought about having to “sanitize” my room for Emma. It wasn’t fair! Carly didn’t have to “sanitize” her room!
Frustration throbbed within me like electricity in a live power line as I realized that I would have to travel to Paris as a boy and remain a boy the entire time. My passport and driver’s license still said I was male — not that it mattered, because I was too terrified to dress as a girl in public. I was so tormented by my own demons that I could not find it in me to show my true self — no matter how badly I wanted to. That meant I would have to be a boy in Paris if I wanted to see any of the sights. I was so filled with angst that I wanted to cry.
Tears stung the inner corners of my eyes, but I held myself together because Mom was proud that she could offer us this trip. She wasn’t made of money and I knew she must have worked hard for it. I was very grateful for everything Mom had done for us. I knew that I should be jumping for joy like Carly and thanking my mother profusely, but my life was such a mess that all I could do was gawp at her. I felt like such an ungrateful bitch.
I was still wordlessly staring at Mom across the table with the corners of my mouth twitching when she finally noticed the expression on my face.
“Chrissy? What’s the matter, honey?”
I looked down at my plate as I felt darkness fill my soul.
“Everything’s the matter.”
I slowly looked back at my mother with a very apologetic look on my face. She looked at me with empathy and reached over to gently touch my cheek.
“Oh, honey, I know that life is difficult for you right now — and this trip will be no exception - but I don’t want you to have to miss out on all of the wonderful things in life. You shouldn’t have to miss out because of who you are or because of what you’ve been through. It’s only two weeks and then you can come straight home and be a girl again — at least for a while before school starts.”
She might as well have said, “You’ll only have a red-hot poker jammed up your ass for two weeks. No biggie.”
Carly was quiet as she listened to all of this. She was probably nervous that Mom would scrap the trip because of me and my problems.
“Don’t worry, I’ll go as a boy.” I assured them, with a hitch in my voice. “I’ll pack up my female things while we’re gone so Emma won’t see them.”
“Oh, God, I didn’t even think of that — and that means extra packing, you poor girl. Well, I’ll help you pack, how about that?”
“Okay.” I smiled weakly at Mom.
“You sure are a good sport.”
Carly and Mom hugged me at the same time.
“Thanks, Chrissy!”
“You’re welcome.”
I spent the rest of the meal trying to convince myself that seeing Paris would be worth it, even if I had to spend the entire trip pretending to be a boy who never existed.
After dinner, I stood before my mirror again, staring at my scar, this time in tears. I felt a million emotions at once and I had an awful need to vent my frustrations. I had to do something before I exploded.
I had started swimming when we moved into that house. It had a pool in the backyard and swimming turned out to be just what I needed to stay sane. Whenever things felt overwhelming I could have a swim and it helped me vent my buildup of emotion. I knew it would help with my current frustration as well.
I changed into my purple one-piece swimsuit and headed out to the backyard to swim.
While I walked toward the pool, my mind was gripped with the image of walking out my front door dressed as a boy and looking back at my house, where my true self was packed in a suitcase and hidden away. My tears flowed as I stepped into the pool. I spent so many years knowing I’m a girl and being unable to do anything about it. I finally came out to my family during my spring break this year and I finally got to be myself — at least around the house — and now I have to give myself up for two weeks to go to Paris! I feel so frustrated that I can’t just be myself in the world! I hate that I can’t go back to school as the girl I am and be happy! My therapist even says it’s okay, but I still can’t do it because I’m too fucking afraid to dress as a girl anywhere outside my house ever since I was attacked! Fuck, it’s been close to two years and I’m still too afraid! It’s so fucking ridiculous but I still can’t help it!
I could not handle my own emotions any longer and I wept bitterly. I wiped my tears by dunking my head in the water. I felt a wave of anger wash over me and I launched myself into a fierce breast stroke to vent.
Chapter 2 — Missouri - Halloween 2007
Author's note: This chapter contains some violence. If you'd rather not read violence then you should skip to Chapter 3.
It was hard to come up with a costume that would allow me to dress as a girl without anyone knowing it. An androgynous costume wasn’t good enough. It had to look like a male costume.
We lived in Missouri, in the kind of town where the only acceptable rainbows were the ones in the sky - and even those were jeered at. I feared for my safety if anyone knew I was dressing as a girl.
I decided I would be a rock star. I could be a female rock star but tell everyone that I was a male rock star. There were plenty of straight male rock stars who had long hair and wore some face makeup. It would be easy to pull it off!
I dressed myself in a white cotton t-shirt with the sleeves torn off, black jeans, a red studded leather belt, and black sneakers. I wore my hair long and tousled and added a dab of black eyeliner, a touch of black mascara and bit of black lipstick to complete the look.
I headed into the kitchen to have breakfast and sat down at the table with a bowl of my favorite cereal doused with fresh milk. Carly giggled at my costume.
“Cool costume!” She approved.
“Thanks, sis! I love your Hillary Clinton costume. That’ll scare the shit out of people around here!”
“Yup!” Carly giggled again, and Mom just shook her head at me and rolled her eyes.
I laughed with Carly, but inwardly, I felt nervous about looking too much like a girl. What if…
“I don’t look like a girl or anything, do I?” I blurted.
Carly looked at me for a moment.
“Nah. Lots of male rock stars dress like that. It’s just part of the rebellious look.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want to get beaten up.”
“You won’t.”
“Thanks, sis.”
“No worries.”
As I ate, I checked the newspaper for the day’s weather forecast. The paper informed me that the daytime high would be 41F/5C. Aw, shit! How can I be a fucking rock star if I need a fucking coat? Rock stars don’t wear parkas! If I wear a heavy coat I’ll get laughed at. Hell, I get laughed at if I sneeze wrong! Fucking hick town with its fucking hick school! I smirked at myself. At least I’ve got the language right for a rock star!
I thought about it for a moment and decided I would only be exposed to the cold during the walk to and from school. Screw it! I went back to my room and grabbed a black Metallica sweatshirt. I threw it on over my outfit, grabbed my backpack, and headed for school.
The day passed with nothing worse than a few cruel words from the usual homophobic troglodytes — but that was nothing I couldn’t live with. It was when I walked home that things took a dire turn.
I walked home along a street where the houses on one side had backyards abutting an expansive stretch of woods. As I passed a red house with white trim, I looked up at the sky and I could tell it would rain soon. The newspaper didn’t say anything about rain, the fucking useless rag!
While I was looking up at the sky, Logan and Tadd, my infernal twin nemeses, stepped out from behind the red house. Oh shit. I stopped in my tracks.
Tadd and Logan always had the meanest things to say to me. They gave me the hardest time at school. I consoled myself with the knowledge that they never went past words. This would be irritating — and it might hurt, but it would be over soon.
Assholes.
“Well, check this shit out!” Logan spat, making it clear that he was referring to me.
Logan and Tadd were dressed up as Spanish Inquisition priests and I couldn’t resist a gentle jibe at them.
“Cute dresses, ladies. Burn any witches today?”
“Oooh! Look who’s getting sassy!” Tadd retorted. “Did you play with dolls today?”
Logan laughed as I stared at Tadd in fear.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t you like dolls, Chrissy?”
Suddenly I felt cold. They know. Oh, my God, they know!!
“Are you a girl, Chrissy?”
“Yeah, is that why you’re wearing makeup, Chrissy?”
“No! I’m dressed as a rock star. Lots of them wear makeup. Guys, too!”
“Only the fag-ass queer-baked ones!”
“Yeah, Chrissy!”
I took an involuntary step back.
“So when’re you getting your balls cut off, Chrissy?” Tadd jeered at me, eliciting a roar of laughter from Logan.
I swallowed harshly.
“Shut the fuck up and leave me alone!” I tried to push my way past them and head for home.
“What do you think, Tadd? Trick or Treat?”
“Trick!”
They both started laughing and before I knew what the hell they were talking about, they grabbed me, causing me to drop my backpack.
“What are you doing! Let go!”
I struggled, but they were far stronger than I was. Tadd clamped his meaty hand over my mouth and they dragged me behind the houses and into the woods.
“Get his backpack!”
“You mean her backpack!”
Logan picked up my backpack and threw it deep into a cluster of bushes while Tadd continued to drag me into the woods. Logan grabbed a coil of nylon clothesline from somebody’s backyard along the way, making my eyes open wide. What the hell were they going to do to me?
They brought me out to a clearing with a tree in the middle, where we were out of earshot of the houses. They backed me up against the tree and Tadd pulled my arms around the tree behind me. He held my arms while Logan bound my wrists together.
“What the fuck are you doing? Let me go!”
When he was done, he wrapped the rest of the rope around my waist and my chest and tied it off behind the tree. I was securely tied to the tree. Try as I might, I could not free myself. Tadd and Logan had taken things to an entirely new level - and I had a very bad feeling. My mouth went dry.
“What are you going to do to me?”
They answered by laughing at me. Logan struggled to keep a straight face as he abruptly pointed at me.
“Confess your sins before God!” He ordered.
“What?? What sins? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“God made you a man but you act like a girl!”
“Me?? You’re the ones wearing dresses!!”
“Silence, sinner!” Logan barked. “Confess your sins before God so that we can save your soul!”
Tadd loudly cackled at that.
“B-but God loves me the way I am! I haven’t done anything wrong!” I trembled.
“May God have mercy!” Logan growled, and they both cracked up.
To my horror, they both picked up rocks. Oh fuck!! I frantically tried to free myself but it was no use.
“Oh shit! Please don’t! Please-”
They threw their rocks at me and both scored direct hits against my chest.
“Ow!! Jesus!!” I started to lose it and tried to reason with them. “Okay, look, you’ve had your fun!! You win!! You’re scaring the shit out of me!! You win, okay?? Now let me go!!”
At that moment, I felt tears leak from my eyes. Shit!! Oh shit!! Not tears!! Not now!! Their response was to pick up more rocks and hurl them at me. One banged into my stomach. A jagged rock nailed me between the eyes and I felt blood drip down my nose.
“Ow, shit!! That hurts!! Please stop!! Please!!”
A rounded rock smashed me in the mouth and chipped a tooth, drawing more blood as it pressed my lip against the broken tooth. Now I all-out panicked, tears running down my face, the assholes still laughing at me — and still throwing rocks.
“Help!! Police!! Somebody help me!!”
Logan picked up a larger rock and winged it at my crotch. I couldn’t move out of the way and it nailed me right where Logan intended it to. I couldn’t even yelp in pain it hurt so badly. I began to feel nauseous.
At that moment, it began to rain lightly. I hoped and prayed that the rain would end their onslaught. Please, God!
“Shit, it’s raining too hard. Come on, let’s go,” Logan urged.
“Hang on. I just want to get in one more good shot.”
“Okay, fine. Hurry up!”
Logan looked around, making sure nobody was around. At that moment, Tadd picked up a baseball-sized rock and hefted it in his hand.
Hoooooly Jesus, Mary, Mother of God!
Tadd threw the rock at my face - hard. I tried to dodge the rock, but it still glanced heavily off of one side of my head. I felt blood spilling down my face and my neck and I was extremely dizzy. Everything went black and as I faded out, I heard Logan barking at Tadd.
“You fucking idiot! You killed him!”
“Oh shit! Let’s get out of here!”
I had just enough time to wonder if I really was dying.
And that was it.
A short time later, I awoke to find myself shivering amid a cold, heavy downpour. Logan and Tadd were gone. My head hurt terribly — along with the rest of me — and I was still tied to the tree. I was soaked to the bone and my cotton clothing kept the cold moisture against my skin. I tried to free myself, but my effort was in vain. The more I tried, the dizzier I got until I passed out again.
I awoke again to a frigid breeze in my face and the sound of voices. As I opened my eyes, I saw that it was dark and I was alone. The light of a full moon glinted from moisture clinging to trees and puddles in leafs on the ground. I heard someone stepping through twigs and mud, coming around from behind me.
In the moonlight, I caught a glimpse of a solitary figure. I saw an angel! She had blue eyes that sparkled in the moonlight and curly, strawberry blonde hair that blew gently in the breeze. Her face glowed a ghostly white. She even had small white wings. She looked very concerned.
“Can you hear me? Are you okay?”
I moaned and I blacked out again.
I had another brief moment of consciousness during which I found myself lying on the ground a few feet from the tree, the ropes lying on the ground, tangled around its trunk. The angel was gone.
I heaved myself to my feet and tried to walk home, but I only managed two steps before I collapsed and passed out again.
I came to in the back of an ambulance. My mother was with me, holding my hand and looking concerned. The sirens on the roof chirped intermittently and I felt the motions as the ambulance made its way through traffic. My wet clothes had been removed and I was wrapped in an electric blanket.
“Chrissy? Sweetie? Can you hear me?”
“Oh, good, you’re awake,” the medic observed as he checked my vital signs.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Oh, thank God! How are you feeling?”
“I hurt. Everywhere.”
“You’re going to be okay. I promise you that. Can you tell me what happened?” The medic inquired.
I slowly rolled my eyes to look at the medic.
“Th-they tied me to a tree.” I paused to take a break. “They th-threw rocks at me.”
“My God!” Mom gasped.
“Did one of those rocks hit you in the head?”
“Three of them. One big one.”
“Did the big one hit you on the side of the head?”
“Yeah.”
“And another one hit you in the mouth?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Well, don’t worry. We’ll fix you up.”
“Thank you.”
“Just doing my job.” The medic shrugged as the sirens chirped again.
I looked back at my Mom.
“Mom?”
“Yes, honey?”
“I s-saw an… angel. I th-think she untied me.”
“You saw an angel?”
“Yeah. An angel.”
The medic looked very concerned.
“The police found you on the ground near that tree and you were alone. They told us that you freed yourself and tried to walk home.”
“I s-saw her.”
“Well, you were probably hallucinating. You’ve got moderate hypothermia and probably a concussion and these things can sometimes make our minds play tricks on us.”
“Oh.”
She was just a hallucination? That was it? I began to feel depressed. Then I felt dizzy again. Just before I passed out, I heard the medic tell my mother that I was very lucky. The outdoor temperature had dropped near freezing when the rain came in. If I had been out there much longer, I would probably not have survived the exposure.
That attack changed everything. My mother pulled me out of school immediately. Then she pulled Carly out of her school. She intended to relocate her children to a safer place. After doing some research, she decided to move us near San Francisco.
That was not the only consequence of the attack. I had always fantasized about buying my own female clothing. Before the attack, I had managed to acquire a skirt, top and shoes and I was working up the nerve to take a walk in them. After the attack, I threw the clothes away because I had become too terribly afraid to be myself in public.
Chapter 3 — Leaving for Paris — July 2009
My packing was done and we were due to catch a plane in just under three hours. The taxi would arrive soon, but I was still dressed in a camisole top under an open button front shirt and a denim skirt. I had long since decided that I would remain a girl until the last possible moment — which was rapidly approaching.
I looked into my mirror, studying the faint scar across the bridge of my nose where the rock had hit me. I wondered how much that scar had to do with my fear of dressing as a girl in public. I never could look at it without remembering. I softly sighed as I looked around the room, now sterilized of any personal expression, and felt as empty as the room looked. I glanced at the outfit of boys’ clothes I had laid out on my bed, awaiting the dreaded change back to boyhood. I hadn’t touched my boys’ clothing since school let out and I really hated to have to put it back on.
On either side of the outfit were two open suitcases that my mother had bought me to pack my clothes in when we moved near San Francisco after I was attacked.
The suitcases were identical, save for their contents. One of them now contained all of my female clothing, cosmetics, jewelry and hair supplies. It wasn’t an extensive collection. I only had enough to keep me going as a girl around the house for the summer.
The other suitcase contained my boy clothes for the trip to Paris. I looked at that suitcase with dread, as though it were full of straitjackets. I wished that I could throw it out the window, never to look at it again.
“Chrissy?”
“Yeah, Mom!”
“The taxi will be here any minute and it’s late so be ready to go the second it arrives, please!”
“Okay, I will!”
I sighed as I removed my female clothes, put them in the suitcase with the rest of my female belongings and dressed myself in the boys’ clothes. I had picked out a khaki pair of cargo shorts, a peach colored t-shirt and a white pair of unisex sneakers because they were the most androgynous boys’ clothes I owned. I looked at myself in my mirror and hated what I saw. I was only five feet tall and boys clothes were always big on me. I looked stupid!
I felt empty as I closed up each suitcase and locked each one with a small padlock. I put both suitcases on the floor side by side and went to use the bathroom.
It was when I came back that I realized that I had forgotten which suitcase was which. I heard a car pull up outside and I knew I was out of time.
“Chrissy, the taxi is here and we’re late for our flight! You need to come down right away! Come on!”
Oh shit!
I had to open up a suitcase to make sure I got the right one. I reached for the zipper on one suitcase but before I could grasp it, I heard my mother’s voice again.
“Chrissy! Come on, honey! Quickly!”
Shit! Time for a split second decision. Okay. I think I put the girls’ clothes down on the… left.
I picked up the suitcase on the left and put it at the back of my closet. Then I grabbed the remaining suitcase — and my carry-on - and hustled downstairs.
“Hurry up and get in the taxi, sweetheart!”
“Okay, Mom!”
I hauled my suitcase out to the cab and headed for the trunk. The driver took my suitcase from me and put it inside next to Carly’s. Carly was already in the car and I got in next to her. Seconds later, Mom climbed in the front seat and we were off.
Chapter 4 — Arrival in Paris — July 2009
The bellboy opened the door to our room for us and brought in our luggage, setting each suitcase on a collapsible luggage stand. Before he was done, a second bellboy rolled in a cot and set it up. Mom tipped both of them and closed the door.
I was quite happy with the room. It was very clean and fairly spacious, with nice furniture and a partial view of the city.
“Well, here we are! I don’t know about you two, but I’m going to do some unpacking and then we’ll have dinner. Sound good?”
“Sure, Mom!” Carly enthused.
“Yeah. Sounds good.” I tried to be congenial.
I seemed to be the only one who wasn’t in a great mood despite the journey. Mom gave me an apologetic look, a wink and a smile before attending to her unpacking.
I opened my suitcase to unpack and froze where I stood. The suitcase was full of my female clothing! I had brought the wrong suitcase! Oh my God!
“Chrissy? What’s wrong?” Carly wondered aloud, noticing the look on my face.
“I don’t know whether to be upset or… thrilled.”
“Huh?? What are you talking about?” Carly followed my gaze and looked at my suitcase.
“Oh, Chrissy.”
“What’s going on, you two?” Mom inquired pleasantly as she carefully removed some of her clothing from her suitcase.
I grabbed the outfit I’d been wearing right before we left the house and, since I had been wearing panties beneath the boys’ clothes, I changed where I stood. Then I tucked the boys’ clothes into an empty drawer in the dresser.
“You guys?”
Mom turned around, not hearing an answer to her question. When she saw me she stared at me and I sighed miserably.
“I brought the wrong suitcase. I brought my girls’ clothes.” I started rambling. “I put the suitcases down next to my bed and I went to use the bathroom and when I got back I forgot which was which and the taxi arrived and I had to leave and I thought I put the girls clothes down on the left so I grabbed that one and I stuck it in my closet and brought the other one and it’s the wrong one. I’m really sorry. I honestly did not do that on purpose.” I managed in one breath.
Mom gently put an affectionate hand on my shoulder.
“Oh, honey, I know you didn’t do it on purpose. You’re still too afraid to be a girl in public — oh, shoot!” Mom thought for a moment. “What are you going to do tomorrow? Are you going to be able to come sightseeing with us?”
I hung my head miserably.
“I don’t think I can, Mom,” I said, almost whispering. “I’m sorry.”
A couple of tears leaked from my eyes and Mom hugged me tightly.
“Don’t be sorry, honey. It isn’t your fault. Any of it. You didn’t ask to be born transsexual and you didn’t ask to be attacked.”
I smiled pitifully at Mom.
“We can get you some boys’ things to wear. Paris is great for shopping, you know!”
“Boys’ things?”
“Well, yeah, if that’s what you need for now. I don’t want you to miss out, honey.”
I thought for a moment.
“I don’t want to wear boys’ things anymore. I would really rather just stay around here where I can at least be myself. I just… I can’t go back to being a boy. Even on the plane I could only do it because people thought I was a girl anyway. I’m sorry, Mom. I’m really sorry. I just… can’t…”
And I burst into tears. Mom hugged me again and Carly joined in, making it a group hug.
“You don’t have to apologize, honey. I’ll tell you what. Let’s have something to eat, huh? Maybe we’ll have a yummy desert, too! We’ll all feel better.”
I smiled weakly at my Mom.
“Sounds good to me.”
Chapter 5 — Paris: Day One — July 2009
I awoke to the sound of running water and mother-daughter chatter. As I opened my eyes, I realized that I was the last one to crawl out of bed. I was in a so-so mood as I stood up and stretched, picked an outfit for the day and headed for the bathroom. The door was closed, so I knocked.
“Can I come in?”
“No, not yet! I’m still changing!” Carly answered.
“We’ll be done in a minute, sweetie!”
“Okay.”
Good thing I showered last night.
I disrobed and slipped on a padded bra and fresh panties. I followed them with a denim skirt and tank top. I finished my look with my favorite strappy sandals, and dug in my suitcase for a brush. I stood before the mirror over the dresser brushing out my hair and pulled part of it back with a hair claw. My family came out of the bathroom just before I finished.
“Good morning, sweetie. You sure look cute today!”
“Yeah, Chrissy, I like your outfit.”
I smiled pleasantly at them.
“Thanks, you two.”
“We called room service before you got up. I ordered you a Belgian waffle. I hope that’s okay.”
“Yeah, that’s great!” I salivated. I loved Belgian waffles!
“Chrissy are you going to come sightseeing with us? We’re going to the Louvre!”
I knew that Carly was only trying to help, but she had inadvertently made me jealous and my mood plummeted. I was really hoping to see the Mona Lisa and the Birth of Venus and now I was missing my chance.
“I wish I could, Carly. I really do. But I just don’t think I can.”
My family hugged me, and it felt wonderful, but I was still plunged into depression.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry you’re having such a difficult time. We’ll all have dinner together okay?”
“Okay. I’ll just stay around here and read. I’m going to try to make myself swim, too. Let’s hope for the best.”
“Yeah, let’s hope.” Mom squeezed my shoulder and then our chat was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“That’s probably our breakfast.” Mom stood and answered the door.
The waiter brought a table into the room and began setting it up. I could smell my waffle and suddenly I was ravenous.
My family was at the Louvre and I was alone in the room. I stood at our window and looked out over the view, absently fingering the scar on my nose and feeling sorry for myself because I couldn’t face being in public the way I was dressed. With a sigh, I grabbed my book and sat in a chair to read for a few hours.
When lunch time came around, I looked through the room service menu and ordered a club sandwich and a lemonade. It wasn’t until I heard the knock at the door that my heart started pounding. I hadn’t felt nervous when breakfast arrived, but I wasn’t alone and I didn’t have to say anything. Now, I had to answer the door and be pleasant.
“I’m coming!”
I put my book down, took a deep breath and opened the door. I recognized the same waiter from that morning and felt some relief. He had already seen me and showed no signs of knowing about me. After he placed the small tray with my sandwich and drink on the table, I signed the bill with a smile and gave him a twenty percent tip. Then he was gone.
Lunch was bittersweet. It tasted wonderful, but I spent the time looking out the window at what little of Paris I could see, wishing I was out there seeing it closer up with Mom and Carly.
When I finished eating, I went back to my book, but after an hour, I heard the sound of a vacuum cleaner and sat bolt upright. The housekeeping staff was in the hallway! They were cleaning the rooms on our hall! I put my book down and paced, trying to figure out what to do. I couldn’t make up my mind until the housekeeping staff did it for me by knocking on the door.
“Housekeeping!”
Shit! Damn it! Well, I guess I’m going swimming!
I grabbed my one piece swimsuit and my room key and headed for the door.
“Hi. Go on in.”
“Thank you.”
The housekeeper smiled as though she had no idea about me. I smiled in return, then turned my back, and headed for the elevators.
The elevator lobby was deserted, much to my relief. My hand trembled as I pressed the UP button. I tried to reassure myself that I was very unlikely to suffer another attack inside a hotel. There were way too many witnesses within earshot if not within sight. It would be okay. The waiter didn’t seem to know that I was trans. Neither did the housekeeper. Maybe nobody would. Besides, I really needed to feel my tension melt away into the cool water of the swimming pool as it flowed around my body.
When the elevator arrived, there was a forty-something man in it with his two preteen girls. I had read somewhere that girls that age were the best at spotting girls like me!
Shiiiiiiiiiit!
I tried to smile as I stepped into the elevator, praying that they couldn’t hear my heart hammering against my ribs. As the elevator rose, I thought about how I wanted to handle things when we got off. But then the elevator stopped two floors up and the family got off. They weren’t going to the pool after all!
Thank God!
I breathed a huge sigh of relief after the elevator doors closed and the elevator resumed its ascent to the rooftop pool. God, I’m a mess! Well, it will be better once I’m in the pool.
When the doors opened at the roof, I was greeted with a blast of sunshine and a gust of warm, humid outdoor air. It was nice weather for a swim. The pool was empty, much to my delight.
With trepidation, I approached the attendant, who sat behind a tall counter in front of a veritable wall of towels wearing a name tag reading Jean-Pierre.
“Could I have a towel please?” I squeaked.
“Of course,” Jean-Pierre flashed me a big, goofy smile as he answered with his French accent.
Wait a second. Is he… flirting with me? Gawd, I hope not!! He’s like thirty — and I like girls!!
When he handed me the towel he also handed me a key to a locker.
“The girls’ room is right over there,” he pointed to a door at the other side of the pool, as he gave me another big smile.
I froze as I realized that I had a problem. Jean-Pierre was expecting me to walk right into the girls’ locker room!
Oh shit! I should have known I would need a place to change! I guess I wasn’t thinking when I ran out of my room. What do I do now? I can’t go in the women’s locker room… can I? Well, Jean-Pierre seems as clueless as he does horny, so… maybe I can do it if I’m quick. Besides, if I don’t, he’ll know something’s up.
“Mademoiselle? You are okay?” He asked.
What is it with Jean-Pierre and his big, shit-eating smile? Okay, Chrissy. Smile. Now.
“Uh, y-yes, I’m okay, thank you.” I smiled crookedly at him.
I turned around and headed for the girls’ locker room. I had never been inside the girls’ locker room and I wondered what would happen. I hoped that Jean-Pierre wouldn’t hear a whole bunch of screams coming through the door in a minute.
I took a silent breath before I pushed open the door to the girls’ locker room and found… an empty locker room. As the door shushed closed behind me, I looked around at the bathroom without urinals, the tampon dispenser, and the makeup lighting around the mirrors. The pastel color scheme was very unlikely to be seen in a boys’ locker room… but I loved it. I noticed that the locker room featured a sauna. Nice touch, I thought.
For a moment, I stood in the middle of the room, as a cautious smile spread across my face. I felt comfortable in there — of course, that might change the moment another girl walked in. Speaking of which, I decided to hurry up and change.
I quickly stripped and slid on my swimsuit, adjusting it until it was comfortable, and hung my street clothes in my locker. I grabbed my towel, my room key and my locker key and headed for the door.
Walking out of the locker room, I felt a mixture of self-consciousness about my flat chest and relief that it was covered. Suddenly I was very glad that I had brought my female clothes to Paris. If not for that, I would be topless and I was no longer comfortable being topless.
I quickly placed my things on a lounge chair and hopped into the pool. It felt wonderful to have a swim and ease my troubles. I realized that I’d skipped my swim the previous day and I really needed to exercise.
I finished my third lap and came up for air to find an older man of perhaps sixty years getting a towel from Jean-Pierre. Jean-Pierre’s goofy smile must have been contagious because the older man was imitating it. Oh, please! Not both of them! Well, welcome to girlhood, I guess.
I realized that I was being treated as a girl and I shyly dunked my head underwater as I smiled so Jean-Pierre and the older guest wouldn’t think I was flirting with them. While I was underwater, I launched myself into my fourth lap.
As I came up for air, I saw the older guest looking at me a lot. I might have reminded him of his granddaughter or something, but I didn’t think a man his age should be looking at a girl my age quite that way!
Men!
I decided enough was enough when I finished my twenty-third lap and the older guest was still looking at me. I had already done a bit more than my usual twenty laps - and I had enough of being stared at by an older man. I hopped out of the pool, and wrapped my towel around me with my back to the two men, hoping to hide my flat chest from them. I grabbed my two keys and headed for my locker.
Safely inside the locker room, I sat down on a bench near the lockers for a moment. I thought about how I had felt being stared at. I wondered if every girl had to deal with such behavior from men and I knew that they did.
I had had my first taste of what it was like to be a girl outside the safety of home. I didn’t like what I’d experienced, but I realized that it didn’t matter. I was still a girl.
Being a girl had its downside, but I felt I could live with the downside of being a girl because I could be myself while dealing with it.
Digesting what I had learned, I showered, changed into my street clothes, and headed for the room.
I had been reading my book for a couple of hours, when my family arrived back at the room. Carly was chattering about the Louvre. I felt jealousy flaring within me, but I silently reminded myself that my predicament was not her fault.
“Carly, honey, do you mind if we have room service tonight?”
Carly paused for a moment.
“Oooooh! Not room service. We’re in one of the most beautiful cities in the world! Can’t we please go out to a restaurant? What do you think, Chrissy? Nobody would have any idea about you. Really!”
I felt another knot in my stomach.
“Oh, I-I don’t know. I don’t think I can walk into a restaurant. I went up to the pool, but there was only one other person there and-”
Mom’s face lit up.
“You did go to the pool? Well, good for you! You deserve to be wined and dined this evening. Are you sure you don’t feel up to it?”
I sighed again as I felt the familiar black clouds gathering over my head, ready to downpour into my soul.
“Yes. I’m sure. I’m sorry.”
“Aw, Chrissy, why don’t you come out and be a girl tonight? You are a girl, girl! You can’t hide forever. Christ, it’s been almost two years now!”
I felt chagrin and guilt flood my being, almost to the point of tears.
“I know, Carly! I know! Believe me, nobody wants me to walk out of this hotel as a girl more than I do!”
At this point, Mom took on her referee-Mom role.
“Carly, please try to understand Chrissy’s position. She came with an inch of her life because of a medical condition that is not her fault.”
“What medical condition?” Carly asked perplexedly.
“Honey, being transsexual is a medical condition. I did the reading on it and there is evidence that something goes wrong during the pregnancy. Something causes a hormone imbalance that in turn causes someone to be born with a mind of one gender and a body of the other. None of this is Chrissy’s fault and I’m sure it’s not fun to have to deal with that.”
“Well, it is her fault that she brought the wrong clothes!”
“Even if she had brought boys’ clothes, she’d be miserable wearing them. Maybe if I dress you up as a boy and march you down Avenue des Champs-Elysées you will understand!”
Carly was silent for a moment as she digested that thought. Mom continued right on talking as though I weren’t there.
“Well, that’s how Chrissy feels about it, too!”
Carly’s face clouded over.
“Mom, I don’t mean it like that! I just… I love having a big sister and I don’t want to have to leave her at home all the time.”
“Neither do I sweetie.”
Mom gave her a hug and then gave me one.
“But tonight, Chrissy’s not ready to be a girl in public-”
“You know, I am right here, Mom.”
Mom chuckled.
“Sorry. I know. Can we all agree to have room service at least for tonight?”
“Okay. Sorry, Chrissy.”
Carly gave me a hug and I embraced her in return.
“It’s okay. I know that I’m not the only one dealing with this.”
Mom smiled at her girls as she dug out the room service menu.
Chapter 6 — Paris: Day Two — July 2009
Our second day in Paris began like the first one. We had breakfast together in the room, and they headed out while I stayed behind. It was when I entered the girls’ locker room at the pool that my day took an unexpected turn.
After I signed for a towel and a key, complete with Jean-Pierre’s signature goofball smile, I walked into the girls’ locker room to find another girl in there. She was perhaps five years older than me. She was right in the middle of changing into her street clothes — and she was clearly not shy about her body! She made no attempt to cover up.
Oh, this could be bad!
I glided over to one of the shower stalls to change, hoping this would be considered normal for a girl who was self-conscious of her body. When I finished, I walked over to my locker — which, I found, was only four lockers away from hers. I smiled and went about my business — but she was the social type.
“Bonjour,” she said.
“Bonjour,” I replied, smiling sheepishly at my terrible accent.
Okay, this is not comfortable, but just stay calm. At least she has her underwear on now!
“You are, eh, American?” She asked with her French accent.
I looked both ways and brought my extended index finger to my lips.
“Shhhhh!” I kidded.
The unfamiliar girl laughed at me.
“That is okay. I do not hate Americans.”
“Oh, good!”
She giggled at me.
“What is your name?”
“Chrissy.”
“Like Christine?”
Christine. That’s pretty!
“Eh, yeah.” I smiled.
“My name is Ludivigne.”
Ludivigne extended her hand and I shook it - carefully.
“I like your name. It’s very pretty.”
“Thank you very much.”
I smiled quietly as I fastened the lock on my locker. This is fun — as long as she doesn’t catch on!
“What part of the US do you live in?”
“I live in San Rafael. It’s in California, near San Francisco.”
“Very nice!”
“What part of France do you live in?”
“I live in Toulouse, in the south of France. Smaller city. Not too small, but not big like Paris.”
“Very nice.”
“You are on vacation?”
“Yes. You?”
“I am also on vacation.”
Okay. This is fun, but I’m giving her an awful lot of time to look me over. I should really go before she figures it out.
“Well, my family will be back soon, so I have to go.”
“Okay. Nice to talk to you, Christine.”
“Nice to talk to you, too, Ludivigne. Bye!”
“Bye!”
We exchanged a last smile as I headed out the door. When I got outside the locker room, I exhaled with relief. It had gone well, but the potential for problems had never left the room. Then again, maybe she figured it out, and accepted me as a girl.
I had a good swim, changed in the now empty locker room, and headed back to the room. We had room service again, but this time Carly didn’t complain.
Chapter 7 — Paris: Day Three — July 2009
It was time for a swim and I headed up to the rooftop pool. When I walked into the locker room, I saw two thirty-something women in there, wearing only towels as they hung their clothes in their lockers.
Oh, crap. I’d better head for the shower stall again.
I headed straight there and changed into my swimsuit. The two women were on their way to the sauna when I walked out of the stall toward my locker. I stashed my clothes in my locker and left the locker room, breathing a sigh of relief, and headed for the pool.
I had finished my exercise for the day and was slowly swimming the length of the pool underwater when I heard someone else dive into the pool. Shit. Sounded too energetic to be that older man. I wonder who it is.
I came up for air and looked around to see a very pretty girl looking back at me. Her straight, light brown hair nicely framed her large, blue eyes. She was somewhere around my age and she had a big smile on her face. I felt myself lose track of everything in the universe other than her face and I had to silently prod myself back to reality.
“Hello! Do you speak English?” She asked hopefully.
“Yes, I do. I’m American.” I tried to smile. “My name’s Chrissy. What’s yours?”
“I’m Samantha.”
“Good to meet you, Samantha.”
“You too! I’m glad I’m not the only American here!”
She swam closer to me, still smiling.
“So where are you from?” She asked.
“I’m from San Rafael. It’s maybe fifteen minutes from San Francisco.”
“Cool!”
“Yeah. How about you? Where are you from?”
“I’m from Peabody, about half an hour from Boston.”
Boston?? Boston, Massachusetts?? Clear on the other side of the country Boston?? Damn it!!
“Oh, cool.”
“Yeah.”
The disappointment I felt in my heart was reflected in Samantha’s face.
“I hear Boston and San Francisco are a lot alike.” She bantered.
“Really? I’ve never been to Boston.”
“I’ve never been to San Francisco, either, but apparently they’re about the same size and they’re both on the ocean and stuff.”
“Oh, I see. Neat! Well, I’d love to see Boston sometime. I’ll be out of high school in two years and I know there are lots of good colleges out there.”
“Yeah there are.” Samantha’s face brightened. “Hey, I’ll be done with high school in two years, too. I’m sixteen, how about you?”
We’re even the same age? Aw, man!!
“I’m sixteen too.” I smiled at her, probably showing a touch of my sinking heart on my face.
“Cool!” She smiled, but then her smile dimmed.
I bet I know what you’re thinking.
“So how come you’re hanging around here instead of seeing Paris?”
I froze, having absolutely no idea how to answer that question. Fortunately, she continued right on talking.
“My mother’s attending the convention here. I came along because she thought she’d have time to see some of the sights with me, but then when we got here and she was handed her schedule it was booked solid until dinner every day. She won’t let me go by myself, so that means I’m stuck here at the hotel. At least there’s a pool and some decent sun, huh?”
“Yeah, at least there’s that.” I smiled at her again.
“So how about you? How come you’re stuck here?”
I took a deep breath as I looked around to see who else was in earshot. I saw the older man from the previous day getting a towel from Jean-Pierre and received another patented Jean-Pierre grin — from both of them.
Time to do what girls do — and hope Samantha doesn’t shoot me when I give her the honest answer to her question.
“Can we talk in the bathroom for a sec?”
Samantha’s eyebrows rose.
“Yeah. Of course.”
We hopped out of the pool, grabbed our towels and met at the door to the girls’ room.
The locker room was empty, but I took a quick look below all the stall doors to make sure. Samantha looked at me quizzically as we sat down on the bench near one bank of lockers.
“Sorry about all the cloak and dagger stuff,” I couldn’t help giggling nervously, “but it’s necessary for my safety.”
Samantha’s eyebrows rose higher.
“Who are you?” She giggled nervously.
I smiled ruefully.
“I’m nobody. I, um… the reason I need this privacy is that… well…” My mouth went dry. “I’m trans and-”
“Trans? What’s that?”
“Transsexual.”
“Oh! Is that all?” Samantha seemed relieved as she smiled at me. “Well, you don’t have to worry about me. My mother’s a doctor and she’s worked with several people like you. She’s also a firm believer in treating everyone equally and, well, so am I.”
I smiled cautiously back at Samantha, glad that she didn’t have a problem with talking to a girl like me while sitting in a girls’ locker room.
“So why are you hanging around the hotel? I couldn’t tell at all!”
“Thanks.” My smile broadened.
“You’re welcome.”
God, I like her!
“Well, I can’t deal with dressing as a boy anymore and I’m too scared to dress as a girl in public.”
“The pool isn’t in public?”
“Not really. There are only three other people up here, so it’s pretty private.”
“Well, yeah, I guess there is a difference between being here and walking down Avenue des Champs-Elysées.”
“Yeah. Anyway, that’s why I’m not out seeing the sights with my mother and my sister. I’m still just too afraid. I was afraid to come up here, too, but the maid showed up at our room and… I needed the exercise.”
Samantha was silent for a moment.
“Wow. Well, that must be hard to deal with.”
“Yeah, it is.” I watched my hands play with one corner of my towel as I felt my emotions swelling. “I am so frustrated that I can’t be myself and enjoy my life. I could be out there right now, seeing Paris with my family but instead I’m cowering and hiding at our hotel. We’ve even been having room service instead of going to restaurants at night. My therapist has even given me a green light to go back to school as a girl if I’m ready. I could be myself full-time and never have to dress like a boy again but I can’t because I’m too afraid. I hate being so afraid!”
I was struggling to hold my tears in, but I was a girl talking to another girl, in girls-only territory, and for the first time in my life, I let my tears flow unrepressed. To my surprise — and my delight — Samantha reached over to me and took me in her arms.
God, I really like her!
I gratefully wrapped my arms around her as I let myself vent for a few minutes.
“It is okay if I ask why you’re afraid?”
I sniffled and wiped a tear from one eye. Samantha and I continued holding onto one another.
“Yeah, of course.” I sniffled again. “It’s all because of what happened to me almost two years ago.” I paused as I gathered my thoughts and my memories.
“Wow, it’s been almost two years and you’re still feeling so afraid?”
I nodded.
“Well, whatever happened must have been awful!”
“Yeah, it was.”
Samantha gently squeezed me, sending shivers up and down my spine.
“What happened to you?”
I looked into her pretty eyes, amazed at the empathy I saw in them.
“I was attacked… and I almost died.”
Samantha’s eyes went wide as I told her about being grabbed, tied to a tree and stoned before being left for dead with hypothermia and a concussion. Suddenly Samantha was completely stunned.
“This was in Missouri?”
“Yeah.”
“And it was Halloween?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“A-and you were w-wearing a M-Metallica sweatshirt?” She stammered.
My jaw dropped. I had told her about the black sweatshirt, but I never mentioned that it said Metallica.
“How the hell did you-” I gasped in astonishment. “B-but you could only know that if… you were there!”
“I think I was!”
Oh my God, the angel!! But her hair was different.
“What did your hair look like two years ago? Was it strawberry blonde and curly by any chance?”
“Yes, it was!”
“And you were dressed up like an angel, complete with small wings and white face makeup?”
“Yes! I was!” She gasped. “Oh, my God!”
“You were the angel I saw! You untied me!”
“Yes!”
“While I was in the ambulance I told my mother that I had seen an angel. The paramedic said that the police found me alone on the ground, that I had tried to free myself and walk home, and that I had hallucinated the angel because of my condition. But I didn’t! You were really there!” I embraced her tightly.
“Yeah, I was there!” I felt her arms tighten around me.
“How did you know where to find me, anyway? I was pretty far out into the woods.”
“As I was walking home, I saw two other kids wearing scary masks with their street clothes. They must have been the same guys who were dressed as priests before because they were whispering something about making sure someone was dead. One of them said it was the other one’s fault for throwing a big ass rock at his head like a moron and now they had to make sure or they could go to jail. I followed them into the woods to see what they were talking about but stayed well out of sight. Then I saw you tied to the tree. You looked dead. One of them poked you and you didn’t move. Then the shorter one said, ‘He’s dead. Come on, let’s get out of here!’ Then they ran.”
“That was why I heard voices right before I saw you!”
“Yeah! Anyway, then they left, and I went up to you and asked if you were okay. You moaned, but you didn’t move or open your eyes. I went behind you and tried to untie you. At first I couldn’t see much because it was dark, but the moon came out from behind the clouds and that helped. Then I heard you moan again. I came around in front of you and your eyes opened for a second and I asked if you were okay. I knew you were alive, so I finished untying you and laid you down and then I ran for help. I’ll never forget that. It was really cold that day and you were soaking wet. You felt like an ice cube.”
“Yeah, I was hypothermic. The paramedics said that with a head injury and hypothermia setting in I would have died out there if someone hadn’t found me. Samantha, you saved my life. You are an angel.” I hugged her again. “Thank you for saving my life.”
“Well, you’re welcome, of course, but I was only doing what anyone else would have — or at least I hope anyone else would have — except maybe those two shits who did that to you. I wish I could have gotten them arrested, but I couldn’t identify them.”
“Yeah, we told the police who did it but it was their word against mine and there were two of them. Oh well, I survived so it’s okay.”
“Bullshit it’s okay! What happened to you was awful and unfair. You should not have to worry about being attacked like that. You are in Paris, one of the most beautiful cities on this planet, and you have every right to be out there like everyone else.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
Samantha fell silent for a moment.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here with me. At least I have a friend to talk to while I’m stuck at this hotel.”
“I’m glad I’m here, too.”
There’s got to be some way we can do better than hanging around this fucking hotel. I can’t go on hiding from life. I have to overcome my fears and be myself in the world. Besides, Samantha came a really long way to be here, only to have her dreams dashed. She saved my life and I owe it to her to take her sightseeing. It’s the least I can do.
“Samantha?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think your mother would let you come sightseeing with me?” Her eyes lit up cautiously. “I mean… you have dreamed of seeing Paris and I have dreamed of being a normal girl in the world and, well, maybe we can make each other’s dreams come true. Besides, you saved my life and it’s the least I can do to thank you.”
Samantha’s whole face lit up and I could tell she had been hoping we could go sightseeing somehow.
“Well, if you’re sure you’re comfortable leaving the hotel, then I would love to come sightseeing with you and your family.”
Except I meant just the two of us. Damn it! Well, I’ll think of something.
“I’ll be okay with that. I’m just going to have to be. I can’t keep hiding anymore.”
"Then I accept!"
Samantha embraced me again and I had an idea.
“There’s just one more thing.”
“Okay.” She smiled at me in a way that said, “Name it.”
I love the way she’s looking at me right now. I wonder if… nah. Forget it. She lives too far away anyhow.
“I really want to see the Mona Lisa and The Birth of Venus at the Louvre.”
Samantha was still smiling at me.
“I do too. What’s the problem?”
“My family already went without me. Do you think it would be okay if we went sightseeing alone?”
Samantha’s face brightened several shades.
“I’m sure it probably would… but are you more comfortable with just the two of us? I mean, you know, safety in numbers and all.”
“Well, actually, we’ll attract a lot less attention if it’s just the two of us. My mother really sticks out.” I laughed. “So, I actually would be more comfortable if it’s… just us.”
Samantha’s smile brightened about a thousand watts.
“Well, I’m sure it would be more fun if we went alone.”
“I think so, too,” I returned her smile. “We’ll have to ask our parents and see what they say.”
“Yes, we will! Let’s exchange room numbers while we’re thinking about it.”
“Okay! We’re in 416. How about you?”
“We’re in 515.”
“Cool. I can remember that.”
“Yeah. I can’t wait to hear what my Mom says.”
“Me either. Well, we have a while before my mother gets back with my sister and-”
Here comes a mother and two daughters!! I looked back at Samantha.
“-maybe we should finish our swim, huh?”
“Yeah, let’s go swimming!”
As we went to stand up, I noticed that we still had our arms around each other and I couldn’t help but smile.
God, I like her!!!
“Come on!” She held out her hand to me and I happily took it as we walked out of the locker room side by side.
My mother’s face was full of surprise as I told her about Samantha and asked if we could go sightseeing alone together.
“Well, I’d like to meet Samantha and her mother first, but if I feel comfortable with them then the two of you can go sightseeing together. Fair enough?”
“Sure!” I smiled at my mother. “I’ll call Samantha and then you and her mother can-”
The phone started ringing and I felt butterflies within me as I went to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Chrissy. It’s me, Samantha.” She sounded apologetic.
Uh oh! Something’s wrong!
“Hi Samantha! Did you talk to your Mom?”
“Yeah, I sure did. She is willing to let me come sightseeing with you but she wants to meet your mother and she thought it would be fun for both of our families to have dinner together. She has reservations tonight that she made a couple of days in advance for this restaurant a few blocks from the hotel. I hope that’s okay?”
Dinner out? Oh shit! I was frozen for a moment. Oh shit. She didn’t tell her mother about me. She couldn’t have!
“Chrissy? Are you there?”
Damn it! Well, I am not going to ruin this for Samantha!
“Y-Yeah, I’m here.” I stammered. “I’m sorry. P-Please tell your mother that d-dinner out sounds nice and th-thank you.” I looked at my family questioningly.
Carly and Mom looked at me with their eyebrows raised in surprise. Mom smiled at me cautiously and nodded while Carly silently jumped up and down, clapping her hands quietly together.
“Okay, I’ll tell her! Can you meet us in the lobby at seven?”
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll see you at seven o’clock in the lobby.”
“Great! See you soon!”
“Yeah, see you soon!”
I hung up and turned to my family with a very nervous smile on my face. “Samantha tells me her mother has reservations at a restaurant a few blocks from the hotel — she made them two days ago — and anyway she has invited us to eat with her and Samantha. We’re meeting in the lobby at seven o’clock.”
“Are you sure, honey? I know how you’ve been feeling about that.”
I looked at my mother earnestly.
“Mom, Samantha has always dreamed of seeing Paris and now she’s here, but she can’t go sightseeing because her mother is here attending the convention and is busy all day long. I can make her dreams come true!” I paused. “Besides, it turns out that she’s the one who saved my life when I was attacked in Missouri. She was the one who called for help!”
Mom and Carly were astounded.
“She was there?”
“Yeah. Remember the angel I told you about?”
“Yes, why?”
“Well, it was Halloween and Samantha was dressed up as an angel when she found me. I didn’t see an angel after all. I saw Samantha!” I told them everything that Samantha had told me. “Anyway, I am not going to chicken out on her. She deserves this. It’s the least I can do!”
“Yes, she certainly does deserve it. I can’t wait to meet her and thank her.”
“Me too! I want to meet the girl who saved my big sister!” Carly enthused.
I smiled nervously and looked at myself in the mirror, knowing that I was going out to dinner as a girl for the first time in my life. I was incredibly nervous but I knew that this dinner was essential for Samantha to realize her dreams and I was determined not to ruin it for her. Samantha had saved my life!
At exactly seven o’clock, we met in the hotel lobby as planned. Samantha and I gave each other a big hug and she introduced me to her mother. Then I introduced her to my mother and my sister.
“Mom and Carly, this is Samantha.” I put my arm around Samantha and she reciprocated.
“So you’re the angel who saved my baby? Thank you so much!” My mother held out her arms to hug Samantha and I gracefully stepped out of the way.
When Mom was done, Carly hugged her, too.
“Yes, thank you very much for saving my big sister. I would have lost her forever if not for you.”
“Aw shucks.” Samantha blushed as her mother laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Honey, is there something you want to tell me?”
Samantha turned to her mother.
“Yeah, Mom. On our last Halloween night in Missouri, you were working that night and as I was walking home from school after dark…”
Samantha told the story of my attack and her rescue, leaving her mother as dumbfounded as mine had been when I told her Samantha had been there. Samantha’s mother looked at me with deep sympathy.
“My God, how awful that happened to you! Did you ever figure out why those boys attacked you that way?”
I glanced at Samantha, swallowed, and explained myself to her mother.
“Well, yes, I knew right away because they pretty much told me. Somehow, they had found out that I used to play with dolls with Carly — and that Carly always called me Chrissy when we did. I guess they didn’t like that.”
Samantha’s mother was puzzled.
“You see, at the time, I was living as a boy… because I was born a boy… or at least, my body was. I am transsexual and I was not out to anyone at the time I was attacked.”
“Oh, well that’s terrible! You should never have to live your life in fear that way!”
“You’re right, I shouldn’t.”
“Well, this is extraordinary!” Samantha’s mother continued. “You two were on opposite sides of the same horrific encounter and now you’re both here, at the same hotel in Paris, thousands of miles away!”
“That’s about the gist of it, yup,” Samantha grinned at her mother.
“Well, hell, let’s go celebrate!”
“Sounds great!” I looked at Samantha and smiled at her nervously as she took my hand.
“We’ll have a great time.” She assured me with another thousand watt smile.
With that, we headed for the front door… where I froze. Samantha leaned toward me, squeezed my hand and whispered in my ear.
“You’re safe with me. You are not alone this time, and I am going to hold your hand the whole time. Okay?” Samantha surprised me by kissing me on the ear!
God, I really, really like her!!!
I smiled warmly at Samantha as a tear slid out of my eye. I leaned toward her, and returned her gesture. Suddenly I felt a lot better — though I wasn’t going to let go of Samantha’s hand unless I had to!
I felt my legs moving again, and we left the hotel. As we stepped outside, I felt almost as though I were flying, airborne from a curious mix of fear and joy. I found it difficult not to look over my shoulder, but I worked at it and we enjoyed the walk. I couldn’t help but smile as I looked down at my hand still holding Samantha’s.
The waiter gave us a lovely table by the window. Samantha glanced at me with concern, but I moved toward the chair closest to the window and facing away from it. I directed Samantha toward the chair against the wall that would allow her to look outside. Somehow, we never let go of each other’s hands.
The dinner was delicious and none of the waiters seemed to notice anything unusual about me, apart from my being a tourist. I had hoped that Samantha's mother would get along with my family and we'd all become friends. It seemed that I was getting my wish in all respects.
After we ordered desert, my mother asked to speak with Samantha’s mother in the ladies’ room, and Samantha’s mother readily obliged. Samantha and I exchanged glances.
“You know they’re talking about you, right?” Carly smiled at us.
“Yes, I know.” I kidded my sister.
“My money’s on you two going sightseeing in the morning.” Carly declared.
I looked at Samantha.
“Somehow, I think she’s right.”
“I know she’s right.”
We continued chatting as our desserts were served. Samantha and I split an order of chocolate mousse while Carly had some French Vanilla ice cream.
Before long, the mothers returned from the ladies room, with smiles on their faces.
“Well, you two,” my mother addressed Samantha and I. “We had a nice chat in the ladies’ room-”
“Duh.” Carly chided through a mouthful of ice cream, eliciting a laugh from our whole table.
“Yes, Carly, duh.” Mom chuckled. “Anyway, we decided that we think you two should go out and see the sights tomorrow.”
“I knew it!” Samantha squealed.
“We all knew it!” I agreed.
Samantha and I hugged each other and exchanged bright smiles.
“Thanks for letting us!” I glanced at the two mothers and looked back at Samantha.
“Well, I guess your dreams are about to come true.”
“And yours already are.”
Samantha’s face was inches away from mine, and I felt a powerful temptation to kiss her hard right there in the restaurant. However, I doubted that either of us wanted to have our families around to watch us kiss. I knew I’d have to content myself with a different move.
“What do you say we have breakfast tomorrow?” I smiled at her.
“Breakfast sounds wonderful.” She smiled back.
Chapter 8 — Paris: Day Four — July 2009
“What do you think, Carly? Should I wear this camisole top with jeans or my peasant skirt?”
“Nah, don’t wear jeans on your first date!”
I looked at Carly with my eyebrows raised and Carly giggled at me.
“First date? What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about that girl likes you!”
A smile spread across my face.
“She likes me? You really think so?”
“Yeah, I do!”
“So do I.” Mom nodded at me. “It’s pretty obvious.”
“Wow! Well, it’s too bad she lives in Boston.”
“That is unfortunate. Now, don’t just stand there. Get dressed!” Mom gently prodded.
“Yeah, good idea. I’m going to wear the peasant skirt. I want to look my prettiest!”
“’Atta girl!” Carly grinned.
As I dressed myself, Carly’s revelation echoed through my mind. I’m talking about that girl likes you! I smiled at myself in the mirror as I brushed my hair. Samantha is one special girl. If she likes me then I am truly lucky. I have to look pretty today!
I fished in my suitcase for my cosmetics and got out my lip gloss and mascara. I studied my reflection as I put my face on and smiled when I was done.
“Very cute!”
“Thanks, Carly! Well I guess I’d better-” The phone rang, interrupting that thought. “Or maybe she’ll call me!” I joked.
“That is so classic!” Carly giggled.
I ran over to the phone and snatched up the receiver, wishing my family weren’t crowded into the room and eavesdropping.
“Hello?”
“Good morning, Chrissy. I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
“Oh no. I’m just, um, finishing up getting dressed. How about you?”
“Same here. I’m just brushing my hair and stuff. Anyway, my mother is already gone to her next event at the convention, so I thought I’d ask if you’d like to have breakfast up here in my room.”
Breakfast alone with Samantha? Let me th–
“That sounds nice! I’d be glad to! Room 515, right?”
“Yup, that’s the one!”
“Cool. Do you want to give me a call when you’re ready for me?”
“Actually, I’m ready now, so come on up!”
“Okay. Here I come! See you soon!”
“Yup, see you soon!”
I hung up and turned to face my family.
“We’re having breakfast up in her room. Her mother’s already gone for the day, so-”
“You’re having breakfast alone together? Yeah, she likes you alright.” Carly smiled slyly at me.
“And Chrissy, the fact that she’s comfortable being alone with you in her hotel room means that you have her trust. A woman’s trust is a very precious gift.”
“I know. I am a woman, remember?”
Carly burst out laughing.
“Er, well, yeah. You just treat her right!” Mom chuckled, trying to be serious.
Carly and I exchanged glances and rolled our eyeballs at our mother.
“Mom, of course I will treat her right. When I have ever mistreated a girl?”
“Never. Okay, good point.” Mom chuckled. “But you see what I mean?”
“Yes, I do — and trust is extremely important to me. Don’t worry, I’ll be good to her.”
“Okay, honey-”
“Chrissy, she’s waiting! Get your ass upstairs!” Carly stood with her hands on her hips, tapping her foot impatiently on the floor.
“Gawd, you’re right! I’ve got to go!”
With that, I grabbed my room key, put it in my handbag, kissed Carly, kissed Mom, and hurried out the door.
“Good morning, Chrissy!” Samantha hugged me.
“Bonjour, Mademoiselle!” I showed off my limited French as I hugged her back.
“You look really cute!”
“Thank you,” I beamed, “So do you!”
Samantha was dressed in a tiered, floral skirt with a white tank top and she looked beautiful.
“Come on in and sit down.”
“Sure!”
She closed the door and we sat on either side of a small table by her window.
“Oh wow, you can see the Eiffel Tower from here!”
“Yeah, we sure can. Nice, huh?”
“Yeah, very.”
We decided what we wanted and Samantha placed the call. While we waited for our breakfast to arrive, we talked about what sights we wanted to see.
“Chrissy, why don’t we start out with something close to the hotel?”
“Okay. What do you have in mind?”
“Frankly, I need some film for my camera, so I thought maybe we could walk to a nearby supermarket and see how that goes. I mean, I know they probably sell film downstairs, but this might be a good first step. It won’t take long and we’re not far from the hotel if things start to feel overwhelming.”
Aww, how sweet that she’s so considerate to me! God, I reeeeeeeeally like this girl!
“That sounds like a good plan.” I smiled at her. “I left my camera in California in the back of my closet where it’s super-useful!” I chuckled. “Hopefully they’ll have a disposable one at the supermarket.”
“They probably will.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, cool. So that’s where we’ll go first.”
We heard a knock on the door and opened the door for the waiter. Samantha signed for the bill and tipped the waiter. Alone again, we sat down to eat. I had a Belgian waffle and Samantha had a delicious-looking omelet. We had a wonderful time chatting and glancing at the Eiffel Tower. I couldn’t imagine a nicer way to have breakfast!
After breakfast, Samantha picked up her bag, and I grabbed mine. She took my hand, and we headed for the door. As Samantha opened the door to the room, I thought about walking around in broad daylight as a girl. My nerves kicked into high gear and Samantha noticed right away.
“Are you okay, Chrissy?”
“Yeah. Just a little nervous.”
“Okay, let’s close the door for a second.”
“Okay.”
Samantha closed the door, took my hands and looked me in the eyes.
“Chrissy, you will be safe with me. The assholes who attacked you are on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, thousands of miles away - almost the other side of the world. They’re not here to hurt you, okay?”
“I know.” I glanced sheepishly at the floor.
“I promise you that if someone even looks at you funny we will turn right around and hang out here or at the pool.”
Awww! She better be careful or she’s going to make me fall in love with her.
“Okay. Thank you for being so understanding.” I gave her a big hug which she readily returned.
“It’s my pleasure.”
I felt safe with Samantha. Maybe it was because she had saved my life, but I did.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
Samantha took my hand and we walked out of the room.
The supermarket was not much different from the ones at home and it didn’t take long to find the film and disposable camera we were looking for. I had no problems — and it didn’t hurt that Samantha was still holding my hand.
As we walked back onto the street, Samantha smiled at me.
“You’re doing great so far. Where do you want to go next?”
“Well, a couple of years back, I remember seeing a bunch of stuff on TV about the tenth anniversary of Princess Diana’s death.”
“Oh yeah, I saw some of that too! That car accident took place around here somewhere.”
“Yeah. It’s right near here. I thought it might be interesting to visit.”
“I was kind of thinking I’d like to visit there, too. Do you know where it is more exactly?”
“My Mom said it was in the tunnel just on the other side of Pont De L’Alma. I guess we’ll have to ask someone where that is.”
“Yeah.”
As we reached the corner of Avenue Bosquet, we spotted a man waiting for a traffic light and asked for Pont De L’Alma. The person pointed northward along Avenue Bosquet and that was all we understood. We thanked him and walked up Avenue Bosquet until we reached a bridge, which we soon learned was Pont De L’Alma.
We paused along the bridge to take a few pictures and resumed our walk. When we reached the other bank of the river, we spotted the tunnel we were looking for. We made our way to the far side of the tunnel and turned right, walking down Cours Albert 1er. We stopped when we reached the ramp from Cours Albert 1er to Voie Georges Pompidou.
“I think this is the ramp where they said somebody waited for Diana’s Mercedes before following her through the tunnel. Then, somewhere in the tunnel, they got in front of the Mercedes and there was a bright flash — somewhere in there the Mercedes hit a small white car - and then the Mercedes hit the 13th pillar in the tunnel.”
“Yeah. Something like that.”
We moved to the very end of a low, black metal fence and peered toward the right into the tunnel, counting to the 13th pillar, imagining the scene unfolding before us. We took pictures of each other standing there near the tunnel and took a few more of the tunnel itself. Samantha was able to zoom her camera in on the 13th pillar.
“Well, I know that she was pretty much before our time, but she did a lot of good things for a lot of charities.”
“Yeah, I think her campaign against land mines even won a Nobel Peace Prize.”*
“Well, I’m glad we came here.”
“So am I.”
For several moments we stood there, arm in arm, silently honoring Diana and her life as traffic whizzed in and out of the tunnel, seemingly unaware of what had transpired there.
We took a break for lunch at the hotel, this time eating in the hotel’s dining room. I was still a bit nervous about being in public, but the delicious food and Samantha’s company made it more than with it. As we paid the bill, we decided it was time to visit the Eiffel Tower.
Fifteen minutes later, we stood at the base of the Eiffel Tower, looking up the side along Avenue Gustave Eiffel. Samantha beamed up at the tower, ostensibly drinking in the moment as her dreams came true. I felt very glad that I came sightseeing with her.
She dug her camera out of her bag and placed it around her neck. I giggled at the sight.
“You look like a tourist.”
“I am a tourist. So there!” She stuck her tongue out at me, making us both laugh.
“Shall we head up to the top?”
“Definitely - in a minute. Come on!”
Still holding my hand, she led me across Avenue Gustave Eiffel and a short ways down Avenue Pierre Loti on one side of Parc Du Champs De Mars.
“Picture time!” She handed me her camera with a big smile on her face.
“Oui, Madame!” I smiled back and accepted her camera, reluctantly letting go of her hand.
We snapped several pictures together, including a few silly ones, just for fun, before we rejoined hands and headed for the tower.
Getting to the top of the Eiffel Tower was more of an effort than one might think. It wasn’t one long ride up in a single elevator. It was necessary to switch elevators along the way and there were lines to wait through.
The view, however, was worth it. We stepped off of the last elevator and found a sweeping view of the city surrounding us. The observation deck was closed in with a kind of wire mesh, presumably to prevent suicidal people from jumping from the tower, but the mesh easily admitted the viewer’s head to look at the view unobstructed.
Samantha and I took pictures of each other and found a willing volunteer to take pictures of us together, on both of our cameras.
That done, we stood before the view, talking and getting to know one other. We had a great deal in common and we bonded quite nicely as we stood there. The wind and other visitors’ voices made it a bit difficult to hear each other and we leaned in close to each other to chat.
Soon, the afternoon shadows grew long and we decided it was time to head back to the hotel for a swim.
Chapter 9 — Paris: Day Five — July 2009
The sun shone in a cloudless sky as Samantha and I climbed out of the Charles de Gaulle — Etoile Metro station. As we stepped up to street level, we found what we were looking for. The Arc De Triomphe stood proudly in the center of Place Charles de Gaulle, surrounded by the bustle of traffic that circled around the monument. Samantha smiled as she placed her camera around her neck.
“Wow. It’s a lot bigger than it looks in pictures.”
“Yeah, it is! It sure is beautiful! San Francisco has some beautiful things in it, but nothing like this!”
“Yeah! Well, picture time! Come on!”
She grabbed my hand and off we went. We walked around the base of the monument, snapping pictures as we went, and took the elevator to the observation deck on top, where we enjoyed another view of Paris for a while. When we had our fill, we went back down the elevator and took the pedestrian underpass to Avenue des Champs-Elysées. Our plan was to walk all the way down Avenue des Champs-Elysées to the Place De La Concorde and go from there.
A short ways down Avenue des Champs-Elysées was a genuine McDonalds! Samantha and I couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of a McDonalds on such a beautiful, cultural street. We refused to eat there, since we could eat at McDonalds at home, but we had to snap a few pictures.
We spent a good while window shopping and went into a few shops like Cartier and Louis Vuitton. I had a wonderful time looking at the beautiful clothes and accessories and Samantha remarked that I really must be a girl!
Our appetites grew as we walked and we had lunch at Café Georges V. It was a nice little place and we began to wonder if one could find bad food in Paris — except, maybe at the McDonalds.
As we continued our walk down Avenue des Champs-Elysées, I noticed that I was becoming more comfortable being myself in public. I smiled at my coming alive — and I hoped it would last.
Along the way, we found a GAP and a Disney store, of all things. Once we got out of the shopping district, we walked by the Grand Palais and the Petit Palais, two museums on Avenue Winston Churchill. We took a few pictures and decided to come back for a better look later.
After a very enjoyable day of walking the streets of Paris, we arrived at Place De La Concorde. We took a few pictures there and walked to the nearby Jardin Des Tuileries — which we decided to visit again.
Soon, we decided we’d done enough for one day. We hopped on the Metro at Concorde station and headed back to the hotel.
Chapter 10 - Paris: Days Six through Ten — July 2009
Samantha and I spent the next few days seeing everything we could. We spent a full day visiting the Grand Palais and Petit Palais museums and finished up with another visit to Jardin Des Tuileries.
We took the opportunity to visit Centre Georges Pompidou and we went to the Musée National d'Art Moderne inside. The Centre Georges Pompidou had very unusual architecture. The ventilation ducts, pipes, and other utilities were all visible on the outside of the building — as well as escalators and other structural elements.
Yet another day was filled with a walk around the Sorbonne during the morning and a visit to the Musée National Du Moyen Age (the national museum of the middle ages) in the afternoon.
Naturally, we could not forget to visit the Musée Du Louvre. We saw Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa and Madonna of the Rocks as well as the Birth of Venus and many other famous works of art. One of my personal highlights was the statue known as Winged Victory, a statue of the goddess Nike of Samothrace. We could not pass up a visit to the Pyramid Inversée, below which Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code placed the final resting place of Mary Magdalene. We also took a walk outside, around the Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel. Everything was amazing!
And yet, there was more to see than Paris. Samantha and I were growing steadily closer. We bonded over every wonderful sight we came across and the chemistry between us was incredible. We were both only sixteen, but I had never been so attracted to anyone in my life — emotionally or physically. I only wished that I wouldn’t have to leave what we had in Paris forever.
Chapter 11 - Paris: Day Eleven — July 2009
Samantha and I continued our tradition of having breakfast alone in her room, but not because I was afraid of being in public any longer. We enjoyed the privacy and intimacy of being alone — and since our time together was drawing to an end, we wanted to make every second count.
After another lovely breakfast, we walked the short distance to the Bir-Hakeim Metro station and boarded a train on our way to see Cathedral Notre Dame and Sainte-Chapelle. When we got off the train at the Saint-Michel Metro station, we paused in front of a map to determine which way we should to go find Cathedral Notre Dame.
Suddenly, a scruffy looking guy bumped into Samantha, gruffly apologized, and moved away. We turned back to the map, but moments later, a scuffle began between two police officers and the guy who had bumped into Samantha. The police addressed the man as Raoul and promptly searched him.
“I wonder what that’s all about.” I murmured.
“Yeah, really. Well, let’s just go, huh?”
“Yeah, let’s get out of here.”
Hand in hand, we left the Metro station and walked over to Sainte-Chapelle. We walked around Ile de la Cité for a while and ended our tour with Cathedral Notre Dame. We had a wonderful time. We were feeling pleasantly sated with the sights of Paris when we walked out of Cathedral Notre Dame.
When we got about halfway to Pont Au Double, Samantha screamed and I turned to find Raoul attempting to steal Samantha’s purse! We fought him off together and ran, full sprint, across Pont Au Double, turned right on Quai de Montebello and followed it into Quai Sainte-Michel. Raoul wasn’t far behind us.
We recognized the area near the Saint-Michelle Metro station, where we’d first seen Raoul and the two cops and ran toward it, hoping the police officers might still be there.
The officers were gone, but we had already purchased our return fare and we went straight for a waiting train. We boarded the train and watched out the window as Raoul angrily pounded on the window.
“Thank God! We lost him.”
“Yeah!”
For a moment, we sat there catching our breaths and I silently thanked God I was in decent shape thanks to my swimming.
“Are you okay, Samantha?”
She looked at me slowly.
“Yeah, I’m okay. You?”
“I’m okay, too.”
Still, I put my arm around her and she readily reciprocated.
“Hey Samantha, that guy went to an awful lot of effort for a purse, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I do. It’s almost like he was after my specific purse for some weird reason.”
“Yeah. I wonder what he was after.”
“I don’t know.”
We rode in silence until we reached the Montparnasse-Bienvenue Metro station, where we needed to transfer from the M4 line to the M6 line to get back to the hotel. Just before we reached that station, Samantha removed her camera from around her neck and went to put it in her bag. When she opened her bag to put in the camera, she froze and I knew something was wrong.
“Oh shit.”
“What?” I stared at her nervously.
“I’ll tell you when we get off, okay?” Her face had a look on it that said, “Don’t ask questions. Just do it.”
“Okay.” I slowly nodded.
We fell silent as we waited the last few seconds for the train to stop. We were at the doors when they opened and as soon as we were off the train, Samantha grabbed my arm and steered me to one corner of the platform.
“Samantha, what’s the matter?”
“Take a look at this,” she told me as she opened her purse so that I could see inside.
I did as she suggested and spotted a sandwich-size plastic bag containing a white powder. My face turned nearly the color of the powder as I realized what it was.
“Oh shit. Is that what I think it is?” It looks like cocaine!
“Probably.” She swallowed. “Chrissy, I swear to God it’s not mine. You have to believe me.”
I smiled at her as I gently put my hand on her shoulder.
“It’s okay. I believe you. When that guy bumped into you at Sainte-Michel station, he probably slipped it into your purse so the police wouldn’t find it on him.”
“And he planned to get it back by following us and stealing my purse.”
“Yeah, exactly.”
“God!”
“Yeah. What do we do?”
“Well, we’re only going to be here for another four days until…” Samantha fell silent as she looked at me with sad, moistening eyes. I felt my own emotions well as I tried to speak.
“Yeah.” I stared at her silently for a moment.
“Well, um…” She dug around in her purse. “I’ve got some tissues here. Why don’t I just wrap that… shit… in a tissue and throw it in a trash can?”
“Sounds great to me. I don’t want it!”
“Neither do I!”
We shared a chuckle as we moved to a nearby trash can and moments later, Samantha extracted what looked like a big wad of tissue and threw it away.
That done, we looked at each other for a moment, took each other’s hands, and headed for the M6 train.
As we climbed down the stairs at the Bir-Hakeim Metro station, we joined hands again, both of us feeling the need for security.
“Well, I hope we never see that guy again.”
“Yeah, so do I. Let’s just go back to the hotel, huh?”
“Yeah, I really would rather. I wouldn’t mind a swim anyway.” She smiled at me.
“That sounds great!”
We were silent for a few minutes until we crossed Boulevard de Grenelle and started down Quai Branly.
“Are you really okay, Chrissy? That was pretty scary.”
“Yeah, it was scary. But I’m okay, I really am. I mean, it had nothing to do with my being, um…” I looked around nervously.
“Special?” She finished for me.
I stopped in front of Souvenirs De Paris and stared at her, a heartfelt smile taking over my face. At that moment, I knew I had fallen in love with Samantha. I looked at the Eiffel Tower in the background, not so very distant, and squeezed Samantha’s hand.
“Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
I smiled at her as I hurried toward the Eiffel Tower.
“Someplace special.”
“Okay.” She smiled at me.
A few minutes later, we stepped off of the elevator at the top of the Eiffel Tower and I led us close to the mesh so that we could gaze out at the view. I took both of Samantha’s hands and took a deep breath.
“Samantha, your dream of seeing Paris came true. Here you are, at the top of the Eiffel Tower.”
Samantha smiled warmly at me.
“Yes, my dreams have come true — and so have yours. Just look at you! You’re standing here being yourself without a care in the world. When we first met, you were scared to go anywhere but the pool.”
She was right! I wasn’t nearly as afraid as I used to be. Things had gone smoothly so far and I found it hard to believe that people really cared that I wasn’t born female — if they had any idea.
“Yeah. I guess we made each other’s dreams come true.” I paused. “All except one.” I moved my face an inch closer to Samantha’s — and was rewarded with her thousand-watt smile.
“Well, there is that…” She moved her face an inch closer to mine. “…but I think we can make that last one come true.”
“Good, because… I’m in love with you. That’s what I brought you up here to tell you. I know we don’t have much time left, but… I don’t care… I’m in love with you.”
Her thousand-watt smile jumped up to about ten thousand watts.
“Oh, Chrissy, I am so in love with you!”
At that, we could resist our chemistry no longer. We kissed long and hard, from the depths of our souls, with the whole of Paris at our feet.
Chapter 12 — Paris: Day Twelve — July 2009
After our encounter with Raoul, we decided to visit another part of town. We chose to visit the Palais Du Luxembourg and Saint-Sulpice. That would keep us a couple of miles away from Cathedral Notre Dame.
The part of town around the Saint-Placide Metro station was interesting to walk around. It had very little in the way of tourist destinations, but that was part of its appeal. Without mobs of tourists pouring out of busses, we felt that we could blend in better — even if Samantha did prefer to wear her camera around her neck. I couldn’t help but smile at her.
Soon, we reached the corner of Jardin du Luxembourg, the garden surrounding the Palais du Luxembourg, which housed a museum and the Paris senate. I was amazed by the fence around the garden. The fence was built of wrought iron with stone pillars at intervals. The wrought iron prongs were tipped with gold-painted arrows. The whole thing was about ten feet tall.
We walked through the Musée du Luxembourg first, slowly admiring the works of art inside. We moved on to the Palais Du Luxembourg, where we marveled at the architecture, the paintings, the sculptures and all of the details.
After taking a break for lunch, we walked over to Saint-Sulpice and spent the afternoon looking at what Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code called the Rose Line, the gnomon it led up to and various other sites in the church.
We had a wonderful day right up to the moment that Samantha glanced behind us and saw Raoul following us.
“Oh, my God! What the hell is he doing here?” She gasped.
“He’s here?”
“Yes, he’s here.”
“How did he know where to find us?”
“I don’t know.” We looked behind us. “He’s catching up, too! Run!”
We took off sprinting up Rue des Canettes, looking for a cab and not finding one.
“Chrissy! This way!” Samantha made a right turn on Rue du Four, leading me by the hand, and we found the Mabillon Metro station two and a half blocks up. We dashed down into the station, hopped a train and watched the doors close before Raoul could board. It was the second close call in two days!
Chapter 13 — Paris: Day Thirteen — July 2009
We had had two close encounters with Raoul in as many days and this time and we wanted to make damned sure we did not come across him again. This time, we went clear across town to the Montmartre area, where we visited the Basilique de Sacré Coeur. There were some lovely views in the area and of course we got many wonderful pictures of each other and both of us together.
When lunch time came around, we headed toward the Moulin Rouge, the nightclub featured in the movie of the same name. We did not go into the club, being underage even for France, but we snapped a few pictures outside.
We had lunch in a nearby restaurant called Café Brasserie and enjoyed a leisurely meal at an outdoor table where we had a lovely view of an enormous red sign that said:
SEX SHOP
Lingerie
Latex
Cuirs
Gadgets
Revues
Aphrodisiaques
We burst out laughing when we saw it and, of course, we both had to have pictures of that!
Despite the big, glaring red sign, we had a wonderful time talking and holding each others hands across the table. When we finished, I got up to use the ladies’ room. There was a line of three other ladies waiting to get in, but eventually I got my turn.
I walked back to the table eager to get back to Samantha and found our table empty. I looked around, puzzled, and wondered where Samantha was. It was then that I found the note on the table, held down by the salt shaker. I picked it up and read it and it said:
I have your friend. If you want to see her live, then you will get what I want and come to Place De La Concorde at exactly 3 o’clock today, near the obelisk. NO POLICE. If you do not do this, your friend will die. If I see one police car, your friend will die. 3 o’clock. Do not be late!
No!! NO!! He has her!! Oh, my God, he has her!! Oh my God!! Oh my God!!
I began to panic and I looked around desperately, trying to see Samantha but there was no trace of her. The only thing I saw was a white van turning right onto Rue Blanche. I wondered if Samantha was inside, scared for her life. I felt tears welling up in my eyes and spilling down my cheeks as fear gripped me.
Chrissy, get a grip on yourself! Right now! Samantha’s life is depending on you! Now clear your fucking head! Pay the bill and get your ass moving! Now!!
I jammed the note in my purse, paid the bill and asked the waitress for the nearest Metro stop. The waitress pointed down Boulevard Clichy, speaking too rapidly for me to understand. I think she was trying to ask me if I was okay, but I didn’t have time to chat. I thanked her and ran down the street to the Metro stop.
I took the Metro to the Montparnasse-Bienvenue station, where we’d thrown the drugs away. I found the trash can without any trouble. The trash can consisted of a clear, plastic trash bag fitted around a circular mouth — and it was empty! They had emptied the trash!
Oh shit! Oh SHIT! What I am going to do? What the fuck am I going to do??
My brain threatened to shut down again and my breathing was rapid and shallow. I stood there panting and trembling for several moments, trying to bring myself under control.
Okay. Okay. I’m going to have to fake the drugs. Okay. I need… plastic bags and… what… powdered sugar maybe? Okay. Okay. Where’s a supermarket? Um. Shit, where did we go to get my crappy camera and some film? Right near the hotel! What was the street name? Rue… Saint… Saint… Saint-Dominique! Yes, that was it!
I ran for a train on the M6 line and got off at La Motte-Picquet-Grenelle station where I transferred to the M8 line and took it one stop to Ecole Militaire. From there, I walked to the supermarket that Samantha had shown me.
This was the first place we went together. Oh God!
My emotions wanted to pour through my tear ducts again but I had to stay focused.
I searched the store until I found some sandwich-sized plastic bags and a small container of powdered sugar. I turned for the cashiers, but I stopped. I was overlooking something.
The white van! Of course! Raoul had to have transportation to kidnap Samantha. He couldn’t just take her on the Metro! Far too complicated! So how did he get her in the van without making a scene? There’s only one way. He told her that he had me and he’d kill me if she didn’t cooperate — and she had to believe, without question, that he was going to kill me. She believed it because… why? Because he probably showed her a gun, that’s why! Shit! I need a weapon, too.
Suddenly my mind was awash with the image of Samantha climbing into that van expecting to find me inside, injured or bound, only to find the van empty and hear the door slam shut behind her. But by then it would have been too late. Poor Samantha! My emotions roiled within me but I couldn’t stop and deal with it right then. I didn’t have time. I looked at my watch and saw that I had an hour left.
I turned around and walked across the opening to each aisle, looking for something… something that I could use to incapacitate that asshole Raoul. But what? I looked around and found myself looking at a display of sauces. Some of the bottles had small pictures of spicy peppers on them. I thought about using hot sauce, but then a much better idea occurred to me: why not go straight to the source?
I turned around and headed for the produce aisle, where I looked for small spicy peppers. I found a few varieties and wasn’t sure which, if any, would be hot enough. Well, there’s only one way to find out. I looked for a security camera, but I didn’t see one. I waited until nobody was looking, grabbed a tiny small pepper and popped it into my mouth.
Ooh, Christ, that’s hot enough! Fuck, I can barely breathe!
I grimaced as I quickly swallowed, hoping nobody saw me. I picked three of the peppers from the same bin and headed for the cashiers.
Hang on, Samantha, I’m coming!
It was 2:55 pm when I arrived at the obelisk at Place De La Concorde. I had with me a fake bag of drugs that I had prepared in my hotel room, where I’d left the extra bags and sugar.
I looked around and saw no sign of Raoul or Samantha. Where is she?? My heart raced and my emotions refused to be controlled, but it was now or never.
I reached into my bag, grabbed the three small, spicy peppers I’d bought at the supermarket, and put all three in my mouth. I started chewing, intent on keeping it up until the peppers were as liquid as possible.
Oh shit, that’s hot! Oh, my GAWD! Ow! Ow! Ow!
The peppers were so hot that I had tears coming out of my eyes. Fortunately, I knew that Raoul would think I was crying out of fear — and maybe, partly, I was. I wanted desperately to spit out the peppers, but I needed them to disable Raoul so I could get to the van. It was the only way.
At 2:58 pm, I saw a white van park nearby that had black curtains drawn on all of its windows except for the front ones.
The white van! I was right!
As I watched, Raoul climbed out of the van — alone. I stopped chewing.
No! No, no, that’s… that’s not right! Where’s Samantha? Where is she??
I continued to watch nervously as Raoul reached into his front pocket and the van’s lights flashed. Raoul had just locked the van’s doors.
Fuck!!
Slowly, carefully, he pulled back the coat he carried over one arm and showed me a gun, before replacing the coat.
Double fuck!!
All I could do was keep my eye on Raoul as he approached me.
“Where is it?” He snarled.
I reached into my bag, grabbed the fake bag of drugs and hefted it in my hand.
Please, God. Please let this work. Please, God, for Samantha!
“Good. You are wise to do as I ask.”
Fuck you, Raoul.
I watched him carefully as he approached and when he was six feet away I threw the fake bag of drugs high into the air. He looked upward at it in shock, and at that moment, I lunged toward him and spat the chewed-up peppers into his eyes.
He shrieked in pain and immediately tried to wipe his eyes. I dodged to my right in case-
BANG! BANG!
Raoul blindly fired two shots and I pushed him over as hard as I could. When he hit the ground, he dropped the gun. I kicked the gun away and jumped on top of his thighs, reaching into his front pocket for his keys. He managed to grab my wrist but I slammed my other fist into his crotch and broke loose. He swore at me in French as I ran — and suddenly I stopped in my tracks.
What if there’s someone in there with Samantha? Someone with another gun? Shit!!
I picked up Raoul’s gun and ran for the van. I unlocked the sliding side door and readied the gun. I slid the door open, abruptly pointing the gun inside the van and found Samantha, alone, crying her eyes out, and duct-taped to one of the rear bucket seats.
“Samantha! Thank God!”
My emotional dam threatened to burst as I put the gun down and untied her immediately. As soon as she was free, we threw our arms around each other and I began crying right along with her, kissing her head as she kissed mine.
“Chrissy, thank God, thank God!! I heard the shots and I thought he killed you!”
“I thought he was going to kill you.”
We kissed each other with savage passion and clamped our arms around each other.
I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Raoul was still incapacitated — and heard more swearing in French.
Yup. Good.
Samantha still had a death grip on me, the poor girl.
“Ch-Chrissy, he said… he said he was going to deal with you and then have some fun with me.”
Suddenly, I truly knew what it meant to see red.
That fucking son of a bitch!
“He is never going to touch you again — if he ever does I’ll fucking kill him.”
I held her tightly again and comforted her. As I did, I noticed a rag on the floor in front of the seat Samantha had been sitting in and, without letting go of Samantha, I used it to wipe my fingerprints from the gun. Then I threw the gun, the rag and the keys into the front seat. I helped Samantha out of the van, locked the sliding door and slid it shut, locking the keys in the van.
“Chrissy, your breath smells like hot peppers.”
“Oh, yeah, that. That’s because I chewed up some spicy peppers and spat them in Raoul’s face.”
“Really? You did?”
“Yeah. Look at him!”
We watched him squeal and squirm for a few seconds and Samantha burst out laughing. She hugged me tightly and I responded in kind.
“We should probably get out of here before those peppers wear off.”
“Yeah, we should.”
I looked around for the nearest Metro station, and saw the entrance to Concorde station - but then I heard police sirens! Someone had called the cops! I glanced back at Raoul and I saw him get up and amble toward the van.
“Oh shit, run!”
Samantha and I ran toward Jardin des Tuileries, but stopped when we saw Raoul grab the door handle on the van, which he found locked, thanks to me. He cursed loudly in French, making Samantha and I laugh, and we watched as he grabbed a broken chunk of concrete and broke his own window. He reached into the window and grabbed the gun!
“Oh shit! Chrissy, he’s got the gun!”
“Oh Christ!”
Fortunately, he turned around and ran for the Metro station. He disappeared down the stairs moments before two police cruisers tore onto Place De La Concorde with their lights flashing. We ran toward the police cars, waving them down, and the cars screeched to a halt in front of us. Two cops got out and started speaking in rapid French.
Gee, I hope they speak English.
As I handed them the ransom note that Raoul had left for me at Café Brasserie earlier that day, Samantha and I explained everything to two of the policeman while another talked to witnesses and the fourth searched Raoul’s van.
Samantha described her encounter with Raoul at Café Brasserie near the Moulin Rouge and I found out that I had guessed correctly. Raoul had told Samantha that he had me captive and he would kill me if she didn’t cooperate. Sure enough, he had flashed her the gun to convince her.
“Okay. We drive you to your hotel now. This way, please.” The officer directed us with his heavy French accent.
“Okay.”
The officer who searched Raoul’s van handed something to the officer Samantha and I were talking to and walked away. Then the officer we were talking to and his partner led us to a police car. We got in the back while the officer and his partner climbed in the front of the car and drove us away.
Samantha and I clung to each other as we rode in the back of the police car.
“You know, Chrissy, you saved my life today. You actually took out a thug with a gun to save my life.”
“And I would do it again.”
We tightened our hug and I enjoyed just being with her. Just seeing her face again was a gift from Heaven. As I looked into her eyes, the police radio crackled and I caught something about Centre Georges Pompidou. Samantha must have seen something wrong in my eyes.
“Chrissy, what is it?”
I looked toward the police up front.
“Um, excuse me, what did they say about Centre Georges Pompidou?”
“Uh, they say that uh, they see him there.”
“What?? He’s at Centre Georges Pompidou?? My family’s there!!”
“Oh my God, Chrissy!”
The police officer riding shotgun handed me a few photos.
“Do you know these people?”
“Oh my God, it’s my mother and my sister!”
“And my mother! Where did you find these?”
“In his van. We also found this.”
The officer handed me a small paper item with the name of our hotel on it. I recognized it as the little pouch the hotel room keys originally came in.
He must have swiped it when he put the drugs in Samantha's purse!
"This is how he knew where you were staying. Then he took pictures and probably listened to your conversations to know where you were going."
“Oh my God. Is he after my family?” I asked nervously.
“It appears so.” He answered.
I clung to Samantha and she readily embraced me as the police talked on the radio to let other officers at Centre George Pompidou know what Raoul was doing there.
Soon, we pulled up in front of our hotel. The police opened the car door for us and helped us out of the car. Then they asked a hotel employee to summon Samantha’s mother. A couple of minutes later, she came running out and embraced Samantha. We filled her in on everything that had happened and she embraced me.
“Thank you for saving my baby!” She cried.
“Well, she saved my life once, so I figured I’d return the favor.”
I smiled at Samantha as she and I hugged each other.
The police radio crackled again and the police told us that my mother and sister were safe and were on their way back to the hotel. I breathed a huge sigh of relief and thanked the police.
They told us to go inside the hotel and wait in our rooms, and we did as they asked. When we got to the elevator lobby, Samantha gasped as Raoul appeared out of nowhere, stinking of peppers, pissed off and pointing his gun at us.
But they saw him at- Oh Christ, no they didn’t! They got it wrong! Raoul was never at Centre Georges Pompidou!
He grabbed Samantha and pointed the gun at her head.
“Now, my friends. We are all going up to her room.” He pointed the gun at Samantha.
Wait, he never went to Centre Georges Pompidou. He came here. That means he came in here before we did! He doesn’t know the police drove us back here!
“You better hope the drugs are there. If not, we will wait there until you,” he waved the gun at me, “get them for me.”
Suddenly, I knew what he would do to Samantha if he got them into Samantha’s room — and I was pissed!
I looked around at the faux marble panels in the elevator lobby and realized he couldn’t shoot. If he did, the report would be heard all the way to the Eiffel Tower. At the same time, the faux marble panels would be excellent for something else.
I screamed POLICE at the top of my lungs, hoping that the officers out front would hear me. Samantha and her mother joined in. Raoul cocked the gun, pointed it at Samantha’s head and ordered us to stop screaming, but stopped, realizing that he couldn’t shoot.
A moment later, the Police found us and pointed their guns at Raoul. When he looked up at the police, Samantha slammed her elbow into his crotch and wrenched free of him. The police used the opportunity to grab him and cuff him.
Ha! Up yours, Raoul!
Samantha ran to me and threw her arms around me. I gladly held her as we watched them haul Raoul away. Samantha’s mother hugged us both.
As we stood there comforting one another, Mom and Carly came running over. I hugged my family and put my arms back around Samantha.
The officers came back to let us know they had two witnesses who saw everything at Place De La Concorde and if there was nothing else, we were free to leave the following day.
Samantha and I looked at each other sadly, reminded that we would be forced to part ways soon. We held each other closely for several moments without saying anything. Our families made plans to have dinner together in the hotel dining room and we reluctantly went to our rooms to freshen up.
Dinner was somber. Most of the conversation centered on the day’s harrowing events. Samantha and I sat side by side with our arms around each other, barely eating and barely talking. We spent most of the time alternating between looking at each other and hugging… with a few kisses thrown in for good measure.
As we paid the bill, Samantha and I agreed to meet for breakfast the following morning. We exchanged a long hug and followed it with a long, deep kiss.
“I love you, Samantha.”
“I love you back, Chrissy.”
We kissed one last time and parted ways for the night.
Chapter 14 — Paris: Departure — July 2009
We met up outside the hotel dining room for breakfast. Samantha’s mother was in the room packing this time. We couldn’t spend our last breakfast alone, and we decided we’d have to settle for spending it without parents around instead.
We followed the maitre d’ to a table against one wall and we sat next to each other. We were going to the airport at the same time and decided not to talk about parting ways until then. We wanted to enjoy what little time we had left. We did enjoy our last meal together, but a cloud of dread hovered over our heads.
When we finished eating, I took Samantha’s hands in mine.
“Samantha, I have something for you. Something to remember me by. I took a little walk earlier this morning and got it for you.”
I reached into my bag and pulled out a small box. When I looked up, I saw that she’d done the same!
“I have something for you, too.”
We exchanged gifts and opened them together. She gasped when she saw the silver Eiffel Tower pendant on a small silver chain. I gasped when I saw that she’d picked out the same necklace for me!
“It’s perfect,” we said in unison and threw our arms around each other, tears leaking from both of us.
“Let’s put these on. It might ease the trip home a little bit.”
“Yeah!”
We took turns putting our necklaces on and hugged each other again.
“Let’s at least keep in touch, okay?”
“Yeah.”
I had begun to dig out a pad of paper I’d swiped from the room and a pen when I felt her hand on my forearm, stopping me. I looked up at her face and saw more tears running down her cheeks.
“You know what?”
“What?” And yet, I knew what she was going to say.
“Maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe we should just make a clean break, you know? I mean…” She sniffled as she fumbled in her bag for a tissue. “…you know how long distance relationships are. They just don’t work. If we stay in contact we’ll just be dragging things out and making it a lot more painful than it needs to be.”
I felt cold all over.
“Yeah. I think you’re right.”
Tears flowed freely from my eyes and I dug out a tissue of my own.
“Samantha, I don’t want to give you up. I love you.”
“I love you, too, and I don’t want to give you up, either. But I just don’t see how we’re meant to be together. We live way too far apart.”
“I guess.” We paused. “Well, for what it’s worth, Samantha, I’m still really glad that we got to spend these two weeks together. I wouldn’t give that up for anything.”
Samantha smiled as a tear slid from one eye.
“I wouldn’t give it up either.”
She squeezed me and we kissed again. God, I loved kissing her!
“Well… I guess we should go and pack.”
“Yeah.”
We asked for the bill, and sat there hugging each other until it arrived. We paid the bill and hugged again before heading back to our rooms, glad that we would at least travel to the airport together.
The rest of the morning was somber. I packed in complete silence. Carly and Mom tried to comfort me but it was useless. When we left the room and headed for the lobby, I didn’t know if I would be able to look at Samantha again, knowing I would still have to give her up. I knew that I would almost rather not see her again. If it had to end, why drag it out for even a few minutes? Then again, if I could have a few more minutes with Samantha, I sure as hell wasn’t going to turn it down. I took a deep breath and we went down to the lobby.
When I saw her, I was glad I hadn’t changed my mind, even though I felt overwhelming sorrow. We hugged and kissed again, holding hands as we headed out to catch a taxi. We all piled into a single cab. It was cramped, but I was glad for the extra few minutes with Samantha. As we drove, we could see the Eiffel Tower and several places that we would forever remember visiting together. As I thought about these memories — most of them joyous ones — passing into the past, I felt tears flowing from my eyes. Samantha hugged me and I could see that she, too, was in tears.
We were both a mess as we checked into our flights and afterwards, we had to go to separate gates to catch our flights. We dragged our heels and stayed close. We had a while before our flights took off, and we talked as long as we could.
“Samantha, thanks again for saving my life and for helping me overcome my fears of being myself in public. My life is forever changed for the better because of you.”
“Thank you for making my dream of seeing Paris come true — and for saving me from that drug dealer.”
Samantha shuddered.
“Well, that only happened because I was here. If not for that, you would have been safe at the hotel and you never would have come across him.”
For the first time, I wondered if my presence in Samantha’s life had been a good thing. Samantha was right. We weren’t meant to be together. Samantha sighed before she addressed my point.
“Chrissy, I almost went sightseeing on my own. I could see the frigging Eiffel Tower from my room. Do you have any idea what it’s like to look out at the Eiffel Tower only a few blocks away and not be able to go and see it? I was so fucking tempted to go out and see Paris alone… and my Mother would never have known… and on the day we met, while I was in the elevator on my way up to the pool, minutes before I met you, I had decided to do it. I was going to start the next day.”
I stared at her, suddenly shaken to the bone. I knew exactly what Samantha was saying.
“Chrissy, the first time we saw that drug dealer was at the Metro station near Cathedral Notre Dame. I could just as easily have run into him on my own… and that really scares me. He wanted to rape me, Chrissy… and I could have been alone.”
“Oh, Samantha!”
I hugged her tightly.
“I know.” She paused. “But then there was you and I didn’t have to go alone.” She gently stroked my face. “You showed up right when I needed you.”
“Well, I am super glad I was here.”
“So am I.” Samantha smiled at me.
We squeezed each other warmly and kissed deeply. The lingering kiss eventually came to an end, but we kept our arms tight around each other as tears leaked from both of us. We stayed that way until it was time for our flight to take off.
We had an emotional final farewell that left us both tearful wrecks, and our families had to pry us apart. We kissed for the last time and parted ways.
I was numb as a brick all the way home. I didn’t respond to conversation and I had zero appetite. I spent the entire flight staring out the window in a daze, tears intermittently running down my cheeks. I had never been so devastated in all my life.
Epilogue — 8/2009 to 10/2011 (We have to find out what happens to Chrissy, don't we?)
I spent the next two years focusing on my transition. With my fear of dressing as a girl in public successfully banished, I started on hormones soon after I returned home from Paris. That fall, I returned to school as a girl.
I had a few problems, but mostly unkind words. I had more friends than ever before, though I did not — could not - date anyone. Still, being myself could not have been more worth it! I marveled that I ever doubted that it would be.
My remaining time in high school passed quickly, and I graduated successfully. As soon as I walked out the doors of my high school for the last time, I started looking forward to attending UCLA, my first choice college. Immediately after I graduated high school, I had my GRS, since I had turned eighteen in the spring. Since I had started the hormones during my puberty, the GRS was all I needed to complete my transition — that and changing all of my legal documents.
When I arrived at UCLA in the fall, the past was behind me, and I was enjoying life to the fullest for the first time. I had even found myself a new girlfriend. Her name was Skyler and she was a gem. We had talked about becoming an exclusive couple, but there was no rush. We were taking our time. I finally felt that my life was headed where it was supposed to. Maybe, just maybe, Skyler and I would take our budding relationship to the next level.
One crisp night in October, I walked over to Skyler’s dorm and knocked on her door to pick her up for dinner. She invited me in and we sat on her bed, hugging and kissing. I noticed that Skyler was acting funny. She was especially affectionate and she had a Mona Lisa smile plastered on her face.
I wonder what that’s all about. Wait a second! Is she up to what I think she’s up to??
Skyler stole sultry, intermittent glances at me as she finished getting ready for dinner — looking extra pretty - and we headed out for dinner.
There’s that Mona Lisa smile again! My God, I think she’s going to do it!
Skyler and I carried trays full of food as we looked for a table in one of the school’s dining halls. Skyler nudged me and looked up at me slyly.
“Oh look, a lovely table by the window just opened up! What lucky timing!” She flashed another Mona Lisa smile and I couldn’t help but smile back.
Skyler winked at someone and I looked over to see who it was. Two of Skyler’s friends, Nicole and Shauna, both had silly grins on their faces as they stood up to vacate the table by the window. Now I knew that Skyler was about to propose a committed relationship!
Then Shauna moved away from the table and directly behind her was-
Samantha!!
I gasped loudly, stopped dead in my tracks, and dropped my entire tray, making an earsplitting crash. As I stood there, staring at Samantha, everything came rushing back to me — the memories, the emotions and all of my love for Samantha. It all just inundated me.
“Chrissy, who is that girl you’re staring at?” Skyler demanded.
I felt so happy to see Samantha — but she was not alone. She was seated at a table for two with another girl.
“Chrissy, who is she? Is she an ex-girlfriend?”
I remained frozen in place, unsure what to do.
“U-um, um, I-I’m… s-s-sorry, um… um…”
My eyes were still riveted to Samantha as she looked over to see what the commotion was about, along with half of the other people in the dining hall. I watched as Samantha stared at me and slowly stood. Her facial expression suggested that she was not sure who she was looking at.
“Chrissy!! What the fuck is going on??” Skyler was upset and there I was, rooted to the floor with my gaze inextricable from Samantha’s face.
“Chrissy!! God damn it!!”
Then a tear slid down my cheek, soon followed by another, and Samantha’s face cleared up.
"Chrissy!!"
Her ten thousand watt smile flared up as she ran to me and threw her arms around me — right in front of her new girlfriend — and mine. We both started crying and stood there gripping each other passionately.
“Chrissy, who is this?? What is going on?? Chrissy, answer me!!” Skyler stamped her foot crossly.
I tried to answer, but Samantha’s girlfriend, Elly, started talking before I could form a coherent thought.
“Hey, Sam, listen, um… a blind girl could see what you two have — and our relationship was just for fun — so, I’m bowing out, okay? You two really need to be together!”
Samantha glanced apologetically at her now ex-girlfriend.
“Chrissy!!” Skyler shouted, and I finally turned to her.
“Skyler, I’m sorry. This is Samantha.” I had briefly told her about Samantha during a conversation about ex-lovers. “I-I never thought I’d see her again.”
At that, my voice broke and more tears oozed from my face. I could tell, from the look on Skyler’s face, that she knew she had no chance with me.
“I-I… I was going to propose becoming exclusive.” She blubbered, as tears ran down her face.
“Skyler, I know that this unexpected reunion has caused you pain and I do feel awful about that. I never meant for you to be hurt.” I looked back at Samantha. “I thought I’d never see her again, I… I thought it was impossible.” Tears continued leaking down my face.
“I know that, but this still hurts. I’m humiliated.” She wiped her tears. “I guess um… I guess I’m going to quit standing here like a fool and… and leave. Goodbye, Chrissy.”
“Goodbye, Skyler. I’m really sorry.”
Elly, Samantha’s ex, moved to comfort Skyler — and hit on her - and left with her to talk. On their way out, Elly hung back and turned to me.
“Chrissy, you be good to Samantha. She is one special girl. I have contented myself with fun-only relationships, and this was the one time I wanted something more. She’s that special. I guess you’re the lucky one this time.”
I looked back at Samantha and smiled brightly.
“Don’t I know it.”
Samantha and I kissed again.
Elly left with Skyler and Samantha helped me pick up the remains of my tray. She went with me back to the food line to get a new tray.
“You know, Samantha, I feel bad for Skyler, but I couldn’t be happier to be with you again. I can’t believe you’re here!”
“I can’t believe you’re here!” We kissed each other again.
Samantha smiled happily at me and playfully tugged on my arm.
“Listen, don’t feel guilty. You were only trying to find happiness. Neither of us woke up this morning knowing we were going to see each other again.”
“You’re right about that.”
We shared another wonderful hug and after I grabbed my food — again - I joined Samantha at the table vacated by Elly. We talked about everything for a long time.
“You know, Samantha, one time I missed you so badly that I started looking up the prices on plane tickets to Boston. I only stopped because we would be stuck with the same distance problem once I got home.”
“I did the same thing. I even considered going to a college in or near San Francisco and trying to find you, but then I realized that you might go for Boston and then we’d just have the same distance problem in reverse.”
“I thought of the same thing. It seemed like no matter what I tried, we’d be stuck thousands of miles apart.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“So how’d you end up here?”
I squeezed her hand excitedly.
“I decided to choose a school based on what I wanted to study and just go with it. UCLA has a school of Theater, Film and Television that really interested me and, well, here I am.”
“It was the School of Arts and Architecture that drew me here.”
We sat there long after we finished eating, just talking, crying, hugging, kissing… and falling in love all over again.
THE END
* According to Wikipedia.
Comments
Looks intriguing
Just dashing out the door, ML, but at first glance this looks good. Can't wait to get home this evening!
m
They know they can survive
Computers? Email? Duh!
A nice story and well told. It's just that I couldn't believe the separation bit. Two modern teenage girls didn't think about keeping in touch by email?
Joanne
Aaawww..
It's so sweet! I also feel so sorry for Skyler.. Silly huh!? :')
Oh well.. I guess she'll find happiness too, soon.
Thanks for the sweet story Mona Lisa.
Jo-Anne
My goodness ! Well, that
My goodness ! Well, that was exciting, wasn't it?
So many coincidences.... But the funny thing is, Real Life sometimes does that to you. My last Big Love and I found that.
Briar
Briar
E-mail
Yes but if they had, there'd have been a different story, with maybe a different ending.
OK, so I'm a soppy romantic cry-baby who can blub her way through The Simpsons at the wrong time of the month. I don't care; this was slushy, tear-jerking, 'Aaww' stuff - I loved it.
And I almost felt every one of the blows inflicted by Logan and Tadd, who deserved nothing less than a slow castration. I won't tell you what I'd have done to Raoul.
Susie
wonderful
I thought this was going to just a beginning chapter but it's so rewarding to have it whole.A little heavy on coincidences but then, what successful story isn't.
Yes, there are coincidences
But it is with a purpose that I include them. I wish to keep alive my own hope - and that of others - that wonderful things can still happen. I am a hopeless romantic, too! :)
Thanks for your wonderful comments, everyone!
Lisa
Very Touching
This is sweet and romantic, but the fear and violence is very real. To find someone so special and to just walk away is different, but understandable.
Thank you for a great story.
As always,
Dru
As always,
Dru
A love story with
a difference....And so very enjoyable.....Thank you. ML you have made this soppy romantic very happy.
Kirri
Lovely Story as Always!
You had me pulled in Mona, Just this one time I sort of wish you would have extended the ending some. I really wanted some more time with Chrissy and Samantha after they met... pooh!
=^.^= I missed your writing a lot. Welcome back dear.
Sephrena Lynn Miller
BigCloset TopShelf
TGLibrary.com
Awwwwwwwww
And that's all that needs to be said, well except Poor Skyler *hugs her*
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I know who I am, I am me, and I like me ^^
Bisexual, transsexual, gamer girl, princess, furry that writes horror stories and proud ^^
I know who I am, I am me, and I like me ^^
Transgender, Gamer, Little, Princess, Therian and proud :D
the french mistake
I knew (and so did everyone else) Chrissy would mistakenly grab the wrong bag, but that was just the start of this epic adventure. This vacation had everything. A great backstory with PTSD-type demons for our heroine to overcome, a wonderful supportive family, an angel, a tender romance, a bittersweet farewell ("We'll always have Paris"), excellent details on the locale (been over there, Mona Lisa?), humor, a thrilling adventure (the French Connection?), a nice epilogue in which Chrissy's dream was at last realized, and then the lovely reunion. maybe a lot of improbable coincidences, but they were sooooo nice. And so while I've read some great entries in this Summer Vacation Story Contest---the writing on this was extremely well polished, like you'd turned it in at the last moment because you were doing rewrites, finding just the right words for each sentence; If this was less than 3 drafts I'd be very surprised---I find myself at the last minute I've had to suddenly change my vote for favorite out of this batch, and pick A FRENCH TWIST. Something pretty spectacular would have to come along between now and midnite (or I'd have to be offered a substantial cash bribe) for me to pick something else at this point. An all around excellent story!
~~~hugs n' accolades, Laika
And remember...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ifLqzLEB3E0
I have been there, but...
...not in over twenty years. However, Google Maps is really useful. I did all of the research using that wonderful tool. I used the Streetview feature to get a good look around and plan the sightseeing etc. I could even read the names on restaurants and stores that way. There actually is a Cafe Brasserie right across from the Moulin Rouge and the Cafe actually is right across the street from a Sex Shop - that's where I got the idea. When I saw that, I thought it would be really funny.
If you ever want to plan a real vacation, Google Maps is excellent for that! It had the Metro map ready to look at, just click on the station marker for info.
Thanks so much for your comments - they're very appreciated!
Best,
Lisa
thanks
this story was lovely and i really liked reading it so thank you for your time in writing this lovely piece of work
hugs from sarav
Sweet, Mona
I thought this very delightful and enjoyed it immensely. In a way, it reminds me of the teen romance books by Tab Books that used to be sold through the school back when I was in junior high. I did feel sorry for the two girlfriends who were so percipitously dumped by Chrissie and Samantha, that was the only sour note in the story. Perhaps there is some way to make it up to them, maybe an easier letdown or something?
I Think The Idea...
...when they left together at the end was that they'd find solace, if not romance, with each other.
Eric
Tooth care needed!
And tissues! that was just so sweet and poignant!
Thanks.
the twist is wonderful....... please twist some more!
...love Ginger xx
Thank Heaven for Random solos!!!
... I just loved this. Thank You!
Dio vi benedica tutti
Con grande amore e di affetto
Andrea Lena
Love, Andrea Lena
Beautiful
Got here in my usual way -- saw a random solo, then looked at other stories by the same author.
This one was simply beautiful. (Well, mostly. The kidnapping subplot struck me as a little over-the-top.) I loved the interactions between Chrissy and Samantha and didn't mind the coincidental ways they met.
Also a random solo oldie but goody
This story pop up on my random solo box tonight. It is a true blast from the past. Remember when taking pictures required a dedicated apparatus called camera that had to be loaded with consumables called film. Afterwards said film had to be processed in a specialist shop, and then at said specialist shop you could order your pictures in various sized made from said processed film. Yeah baby, those were the good old times.
By the way, using your telephone to take pictures is just not good enough. A casual snapshot here or there might be OK. But as a multi-function device the old adage of “Jack of all trades, master of none” still holds true. Even as telephones those hand brains are just barely acceptable.