She sat on the floor in the middle of the room. Books were piled, notes were checked and double-checked, and her hair was tied up in a knot, but strands were escaping, trailing, and waving. Glasses on her nose, lost in a deeper understanding of things the rest of us couldn’t even begin to unscramble.
Discarded coffee mugs piled, snacks, energy bars, and wrappers in organized chaos away from the important: the books and the notes.
I sat at the desk. One book at a time, one exam at a time. Enough to excel, not obsess.
That was the difference.
Alice chased perfection. She dissected, absorbed, and rewired the world until it bent to her understanding. I stayed in my lane. I knew what I was good at and what I needed to know, and I nailed it—just enough, never more, never less.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses?” I smiled.
They looked at ease on her as if they belonged somehow.
She snapped out of something and looked at me.
“Only when my eyes bleed, babe.”
She stretched, slow and deliberate. I wasn’t sure if it was to tease or out of pure need.
“I don’t give a fuck what you say,” she said, “Once that final exam is done… I’m getting high. With you.”
There it was—the conversation we hadn’t had.
She had been good—not pulling, testing, or asking—but now she declared it.
Admittedly, Alice wasn’t entirely Alice without the weed.
And I…
I wasn’t entirely me without the memories that lingered under my skin.
“Nakedness?” I asked.
She didn’t even look up from her book. Just smirked.
“Is there any other way?”
Then, as if it had already been decided, she drifted back into her notes.
The long silence. Just her breathing. The soft rustle of pages. The scratch of her head. The way she ticked through facts, theories, and equations—checking boxes only she could see.
In between, sprinkled half-sentences.
“Of course, how could I forget?”
“Well, that’s stating the obvious.”
“Indeed.”
Another pause. Comfortable.
Then—
Tender and proud, she took her glasses off, squinted at me, and smirked.
“I heard you shredded Mr. Stephens in class the other day. Stuff of legends.”
I blinked.
“Huh?”
She smirked, tilting her head just enough to ensure I saw the pride beneath it.
“Your fucking discussion group on women’s rights. The right to own our own body. Abortion?”
I blushed. Because it’d had been a complete fuck-up. There was no David in that discussion group.
“Old men clawing at relevance on their way to extinction shouldn’t be allowed to forge the rules for girls and women with their lives ahead of them.” I had argued.
“You’re doubting the democracy?” Mr. Stephens parried.
“Democracy?” I spat, “Are you referring to the system you’ve tried to imprint on us for the last four years, Mr. Stephens? The one so utterly broken and rigged in favor of the 1% who doesn’t have to live in it? Democracy, you say, when the voices of those affected aren’t even tried to be heard?”
“It’s a sin.” He said. As if laying down the final, unbreakable argument.
“Religion? That’s exactly why the system is broken, Mr. Stephens. Men like you are bringing religion into politics, science, and women’s health. Only a broken God would bring children into the suffering you’re proposing. Is this what we’re debating? How broken your God is?”
The room had fallen into silence. Then, the stares, waiting for the aftermath.
Mr. Stephens cleared his throat.
Allison stared, mouth agape. She was a cute girl.
Tonya held back a laugh—the one she didn’t want Mr. Stephens to hear. Tonya wasn’t cute. She was hot as fuck.
A piece of wrinkled, curled paper hit the back of my head and echoed through the entire room as it hit the floor.
I picked it up and looked at it. Un-crumpled it, reading it.
“Fucktard” it said. Tony’s handwriting.
I sighed deeply as only women sigh.
“Men, raised to sign meaningless papers behind our backs because their minds are too fragile, their voices too weak, to make any kind of difference. The kind your system grows, Mr. Stephens.”
I looked at Tony.
“You dropped this.”
Alice’s stare lingered.
“I wish I could have been there, babe.”
“It was stupid,” I tried, but pride bubbled through. “Out of character, I’m sure my voice cracked into mine. I might have pulled my hair behind my ear.”
“But you were right.”
She smiled.
“Besides, Allison’s crush on you grew out of proportion, and even Tonya’s got the hots for you.”
She stretched, deliberate this time, wanting me to see the excitement on her chest.
“Aww, don’t worry, babe. David is the talk in the girl’s room. It’s juicy, but it’s David.”
Then she disappeared into her books again.
***
We sat, waiting for the bus, watching everyone scuttle by.
Allison stood at the corner, waiting for Tonya. Tonya arrived, and the two of them skipped down the street, the weight of the English exam already forgotten.
“What do you think?” Alice smirked.
“What?” I asked, never sure exactly where her mind was.
She nodded toward them.
“They’ve been friends forever but share nothing in common, do they?”
I looked at her, still not following. But her nose twitched in the sun, her curls rustled in the wind, and she was already off somewhere else.
“The innocent virgin and the… in lack of a better word, wanton whore. What do they have in common?”
“What do we?” I asked.
She turned, that sharp little grin forming at the corner of her lips.
“Same as them,” she said. “One hiding, the other knowing.”
I frowned. “What, Allison?”
“Queer for sure. At least bi. She just doesn’t know it yet.”
I stared at her. “How do you just see things like that, babe?”
Alice stretched out her legs, adjusting her skirt, her voice smooth, certain.
“Thing is… Tonya’s game if Allison just pushed a little harder. Dared. Why else would she stay?”
The in-between. The cracks.
Her eyes had left them, landing on Stacey and Devonne. Stacey was slender and small, always bubbling with laughter. Devonne was taller, curvier, and full of assessment. Both were dark as night, beautiful in their own way.
“Oh…to be caught between those thighs,” she whispered.
“C’mon…they’re not…”
“No, they’re not, but a girl can dream, right?”
Dwight and his entourage passed us.
His look cowered in front of Alice. And he wasn’t walking up front, more hanging back.
Still cocky as fuck, though.
Still big, strong, and caught between my disgust and my lust.
Alice giggled.
“Fuck, babe! You do dare to dream!”
“Stop,” I giggled, red with embarrassment.
“Too much Veronica,” she hushed, “Bring it back a little.”
I’d forgotten entirely. Like I always did around her. Good thing I hadn’t kissed her. Even though brother and sister only on paper, it was still frowned upon in the thick of our Bible-humping Midwestern town.
As always, Alice read my mind.
“Oh, they’re not as innocent as they like to show off. There’s enough naughty going on behind closed curtains. Annie? Serving the school lunch. Apparently, her nickname is Anal-Annie…and it’s not because she’s too uptight.”
Our bus arrived with a lazy sigh.
“Sit with me, bro?” she smiled.
And all the way home, she traced lazy circles on my thigh—teasing, knowing—while the rest of her set the world on fire.
She didn’t just talk. She moved, breathed, burned.
Every shift of her body, every flick of her wrist, every tilt of her head pulled someone into her orbit. She debated, mocked, recited her exam as if it was a play, charmed those who dared not speak into speech, and challenged, her words spilling out like gasoline, ready to ignite whatever unfortunate fool dared to meet her in battle.
And through it all, her finger never stopped tracing me.
For once, I felt blessed I was small.
My favorite time of the day was shedding everything David onto the floor. Standing in front of the mirror and challenging him. My breasts, marked from being pressed and pushed the entire day, now breathed freely.
I wanted more me.
I found the pants Audry had chosen; I wanted them to hug me just the right way.
Alice sat on the bed, just watching, not saying anything.
She saw me struggle, she saw me pull, she saw me fucking stuff.
“Babe…” I said, not quite believing, “My bum won’t fit.”
“Pants…a hundred bucks. Looks…a million bucks. Seeing our girlfriend blossoming out of her pants? Priceless.”
“I have a fat ass?” I giggled.
“Fat? Hell no.”
She slid off the bed and glided across the floor.
“Round? Soft? Tempting with utter fuck?” she whispered, leaning in.
Her eyes burned.
She bit her lip.
“Make love to me,” she whispered.
Oh, how I wanted to.
Desired.
Burned.
She spilled her clothes.
She pulled me into bed.
She kissed me.
But I was still stuck in the fucking in-between.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, voice trembling.
She looked at me, still burning on the inside.
She trembled.
“I need this, Veronica.”
“I just feel so hopelessly misplaced. Like I’m stuck, neither here nor there. Just lingering somewhere in between. How can I not?” I sobbed
“Babe, you’re nothing in between. You are my fucking everything.”
She poked at her gut.
“Right here.”
I hesitated. She had pulled me through all my doubts over and over again, but of course, they lingered.
“I can never be that to you… like… him… them.”
Intending to be obvious. She had to fucking see it.
“Him? Them?” She smirked. “All of them? Wow… your slut girlfriend… is that what this is about?”
“Fuck, no. No. But when he took me… I can never be that to you.”
“Oh.”
So much lingered under that single word.
Her nose twitched. That smile—the Alice smile. The one that told me she already had the answer.
She rolled on top of me, pressed her chest against mine, and placed a soft kiss on my chin.
“You’ve never made love.”
Her breath was hot, searing.
“You’ve only ever been fucked. And you think that’s everything.”
Her hips rolled, slow, deliberate, rubbing against me.
Against it.
Soft and… stirring?
“You see… I could suck your beautiful tits. And that’d be something.”
Her fingers traced me. Not really touching—just trailing, teasing, circling.
“But this? This is what it’s really about.”
I ached. Fuck, I ached.
“See how puffy they get?” she moaned, slipping against me, wet and wanting.
She leaked all over me.
And I twitched against her.
And she felt everything.
“Oh, fuck…” she gasped. “And when I trace my fingers down your side, it doesn’t just tingle your skin, does it?”
No.
It was her setting me ablaze with something I thought I’d lost. No—something I had never felt.
“Right now? Your mind is melting, isn’t it?”
She sat up, straddling me, grinding down, pressing against me.
“You’re slipping. Wondering…”
Her breath hitched.
“What would it feel like? To slip inside me?”
She was burning. Fucking hot with something I didn’t have words for.
“She doesn’t feel useless now, does she?” Her voice was pure velvet, frayed at the edges. “She’s starting to consume you… fffuck… like she’s consuming me.”
My breath stuttered.
Because she was right.
“I fucking feel you, babe. I’m so fucking close, just by how you rub me so fucking right.”
My hands found her thighs. Held her. Pulled her onto me.
“That’s it…” she breathed.
Then—
I slipped inside her.
“Alice,” I gasped.
“What, babe? The missing condom?”
She rolled her hips, slow, deliberate, taking me deeper.
“I’m just… gonna cum now,” she moaned.
A deep, breaking moan as she arched her back.
“Alice,” I whispered, “Stop… you’re making me cum.”
She clenched around me, locked me inside her. Green eyes burning through me.
“That’s the fucking point,” she purred.
Her thighs trembled.
Her eyes squeezed shut.
She landed on me in full force.
Her hands squeezed my breasts—no more teasing. No more tenderness.
“Oh… fuck,” she moaned, “Oh my fucking fuck.”
Her breath hitched.
“Cum with me, babe,” she groaned.
Like it was a command.
Like it was a promise.
Like she knew I couldn’t resist her.
And fuck—she was right.
It surged through me, from everywhere.
From the tips of my toes, curling, tensing, snapping through my spine, crashing into my core.
I gasped—no, I sobbed.
“My God, Alice… Alice…”
I wasn’t just unraveling.
I was being unmade.
Stripped down to nothing but this moment.
Nothing but her.
She held me through it, her body writhing against mine, her breath tangled in my hair.
“That’s it… let go, babe… let it fucking take you.”
And I did.
I came—hard.
Drenched in her.
Drowned in her.
Fucking owned by her.
And I felt…like an angel had licked me clean of sin.
She trembled softly on top of me.
“Alice,” began.
“Hush,” she moaned, “I’m not done cumming.”
She trembled and moaned into my neck.
A long, slow-burning afterglow.
Of me.
She looked at me. Soft, mellowed, but not undone and broken like he…we had left her.
“You cannot tell me you didn’t feel that,” she sighed, her voice laced with certainty, with something undeniable.
Not a question. Not even a challenge.
Just a fact—one she already knew the answer to.
Her breath still tangled in mine, her body still pressed against me, her pulse still syncing with my own.
I couldn’t tell her I didn’t feel it.
Because fuck me.
I had never felt anything like this.
I felt myself leave her…dripping of her…dripping of me.
Melted.
But not broken.
Here, and not lost.
Still tangled in her warmth, still shivering from something deeper than pleasure.
Fucking everything.
Alice?
She smirked.
“You know…the pill is pretty effective…when I remember to take it…” She fucking giggled.
“But imagine, a baby-you-and-me?”
I blinked.
She laughed, spilling curls, green tears, and the sheets beneath us.
“Relax, babe,” she whispered. “You’re safe. With me. Always.”
And I finally admitted it.
“I love you, Alice.”
She looked at me.
“Just don’t fucking forget it, babe.”
***
It turned out that the weight of exams and the release of each one finished turned Alice into a lustful little ball of horny. Either that or I was her weed substitute.
And it made it much harder to concentrate on my exams, my performance as David, and navigating the school web.
She consumed me, tickled my skin, surged inside me, making me twirl my hair, press my thighs together, and left me hot and bothered. Someone surely had to notice.
Yet, no one did. They saw that strange little kid sweating just as much as themselves over their exams.
I even survived barging into the girl’s room, even the second of hesitation of not understanding their stares. I didn’t even blush; I only managed a hollow “Sorry.”
The worst part wasn’t playing David. It had become a routine, a performance I was steadily getting worse at with ease. It was the hiding that stung.
The urge to scream, “Look at me, I’m fucking gorgeous!” against pretending to be afraid of my own shadow.
It was stressful.
So, I allowed Alice her weed.
Because I needed it.
It turns out I wasn’t a weed substitute; if anything, she melted deeper.
I tried to remember exactly when I had fallen for her so helplessly but decided it didn’t matter. She was mine.
As I was hers.
***
Poor Henry didn’t see much of his girls those weeks leading into June. He cooked, served, and watched us retreat to our room for studies.
He was still there in the morning serving breakfast and coffee but just watching us in careful glances above his newspaper.
But every look spilled pride.
He could leave the house unworried and was a better man for it. Besides, he had a crop to attend to.
“He deserves love,” I whispered as we returned to our room.
“He needs to get laid,” Alice argued.
I understood.
Henry didn’t have space for that kind of love or commitment. He had all he wanted, did all he cared for, and cared for the people already there.
“How about Annie?” I laughed.
She feigned a gasp and slapped my wrist.
“Don’t do my dad dirty!”
“Oh, don’t you see it? Henry riding Annie’s ass into the sunset? Claiming pleasure and dealing sweet pain?”
“Veronica Caldwell! Do I need to punish you?”
I trembled with delight.
“Please, Miss Caldwell. I do need a good punishment. Will there be gags and whips?”
I should have known better. I didn’t realize what Alice had hidden in those boxes under the bed.
She didn’t make love to me.
She fucked me good.
And sometimes, that’s what a girl needs.
***
The Citroën ate the miles before us but did not take the scenic route this time. The fireworks to my left was all the scenery I needed.
“Do you miss it? The weekends?” I asked.
Her nose wiggled, but only for a second.
“What do you expect me to say? It was easier. Go in, fix shit, get wasted and fucked. That was easy.”
She smiled.
“But this? This is better.”
“Better than candy?” I pleaded.
“Better than fuck, babe.”
I lingered on her face. Let me feel how she made me tingly on the inside and prickly with goosebumps on the outside.
I flipped down the sun visor and took a long look in the mirror.
“See anything you like?” she teased.
“Not really my type. I mean, sure, she’s got the looks, but…”
Why not?
“She’s more your type. Submissive and pretty.”
The nose.
Coming up empty.
“Well, fuck me,” she sighed.
“Patience. We’d be late for my appointment.”
She dropped me off at the hospital and readied herself to swing by her mother’s house.
“It’ll probably be a war zone by now. I shouldn’t have left it this long.”
“You can wait; I’ll come with you,” I said, not really wanting to.
“Nah, this is a solo mission. I’ve got this. You do you.”
Dr. Stanchovic greeted me with a smile.
“You’re making waves, Veronica.”
She hugged me. Highly unprofessional and deeply met.
“We have a new protocol at the hospital regarding trauma patients. Apparently, it’s better to help them recover than to tear them apart. Only through healing can we address the deeper issues. Who knew?”
I let it sink in. No, I tried to let it sink in.
I have a voice?
I shouldn’t have to scream like that to be heard.
But…I have a voice.
And as my face was fried, I came to a realization.
If I have a voice, I’m obligated to use it. And college seemed like a good idea.
***
I stood in the warm sun and waited. Should I walk? I dreaded thinking what an utter mess Clair’s house must have been since it had taken her that long.
Finally, the pale blue Citroën pulled up in front of me.
I sat in, and she smiled at me.
“Sorry,” she said, “It took a bit longer than expected.”
“That bad?”
She looked at me.
“Not really. She’s gone.”
“I’m so sorry,” I began.
“Don’t be. She looked…almost human. I played my part; she played hers. It’s…not a relief…just one less thing to think about.”
I didn’t know what to say. So, I thought about my own mother. I hadn’t done that in weeks or even months, not since the last time I cowered in front of that house waiting for the bus.
Alice hadn’t let her mother win. She returned every week to let her know she had a choice. What if mother died? I wouldn’t even know.
Alice chose to know. She decided to let it unfold as the universe intended, not by her hands or from the lack of.
“I…should have been there for you.” I whispered.
“No, you’d just be in my way with your feelings and shit,” she said under a laugh, “It’s ok. I always knew it would end like this. That’s why I came back. Because her death? It’s another thing I won’t let her define in me.”
It made sense. Her sterile room. Nothing to collect once it ended. No memories to walk through.
“I phoned 911, they took care of shit. I phoned my aunt, she said she’d take care of the rest.”
She sighed. Deep, from her gut.
“I phoned Dad. He’s the one with the memories. They had a few good years back in the day. And memories like that linger.”
She swerved the car around and hit the road.
I decided to let silence be our companion. Unless she objected.
She didn’t.
Not until we hit the corner leading to our street.
“That’s one of the things I love the most about you, babe. Not having to talk to you.”
Then, she stole a kiss.
And I took it back.
Making out and fingering your girl in her dad’s car in the driveway?
That’s what high school is all about.
***
One pill makes you larger
And one pill makes you small
And the ones that mother gives you
Don’t do anything at all
It faded eerily through the speakers as Alice exhaled. It had been such an excellent Sunday, and the books piled on the floor remained untouched.
“Yeah…” she sighed as she stretched, “That’s why I don’t do pills or mushrooms or any other shit. It fucks with your head.”
I traced her chest.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, smoke drifting hazily from her lips.
“Counting freckles,” I whispered.
“Stop it. It makes me horny.”
“They make me horny,” I teased.
She handed me the joint and sat up.
“Dad’s going to knock on that door any minute, and I’m going to be leaking myself onto my bed…and I’ll have to shake the hot in my voice and answer him sweetly.”
“Only counting freckles, babe.”
She moaned.
“That’s not a freckle, you cheat!”
“My bad,” I whispered, pinching softly.
I inhaled deeply, leaned in, and kissed her, cupping her breasts in a smoky embrace.
“Your left tit is only slightly smaller, babe, but I feel you.”
“Of course you do. You’re high.”
“But she hardens quicker and with more intent. I think she’s the bright one.”
I looked at her.
“They’re both beautiful.”
She looked at me, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes.
“You have seventy-two freckles on your face before summer,” I whispered, “But now…I’ve lost count. And no matter how many more you get, they can’t compete with the stars in your eyes.”
She blushed.
Alice Caldwell blushed.
“What?”
“You treat me like a girl…and I love it…and hate you for it.”
“It’s your fault.”
“How is this my fault,” she questioned.
“You won’t let me see Titanic, and I think it’s because you’re afraid you might cry.”
She smiled.
“That’s ruthless, Veronica, using my own weapons against me.”
“I’m not forcing anything on you, babe,” I whispered, “I’m giving you a choice.”
I traced my finger down her tummy.
“Either we watch Titanic…” I let it linger as my lips brushed hers, “Or, you’ll have to deal with me fingering you when Henry comes.”
She sighed.
Twice.
Twitched her nose. On fucking purpose.
“Haven’t you learned anything, babe?” she whispered, “I’ll take both.”
There’s something undeniably dirty in being caught by your girlfriend’s father, and Alice wasn’t the one blushing when he knocked on the door.
She was never shy.
“Yeah, Dad?” she yelled while I was still knuckle-deep in her.
She smirked as I pulled out and wiped my hand on the sheets, just in time before he cracked the door open.
“You girls hungry?”
“Mmhmmm,” she nodded.
“Oh…good, I just ordered pizza. We could sit out back and…”
“Sounds lovely, Dad,” she said, voice thick with longing.
“Oh…you guys…”
“See you, Dad.”
“Christ, Alice,” he muttered and closed the door.
She turned to me with those eyes.
“Get back to work. You have fifteen minutes.”
Losing is part of learning to win. But to win, you must want it.
I wasn’t ready for that just yet.
***
It truly was a stunning May afternoon.
Pizza was a perfect choice, and cuddling into Alice felt right.
Poor Henry had struggled with the unspoken throughout the meal, distracted, fumbling with the words.
“Beers?” he asked before realizing we never had the talk.
He caught himself.
“Clair,” he said, “I wish you’d known her then. She wasn’t ready for you, and neither was I, but you made me adapt. You became everything. She wasn’t done with partying.”
He twisted the cap off his bottle and drank.
“She had some control still, back then, but when she moved out…there was no one to…she had no one to be in control for. I blamed myself…until I didn’t.”
He looked at us.
“I loved your mother. You were created out of pure love, Alice. Never doubt that.”
He rubbed his hands and buried his face in them.
“I haven’t always been able to be…the father you deserved. I don’t understand all the rules or restrictions, and I look at you and wonder, how did you turn out so strong? So righteous, so…without all the rules I was supposed to enforce?”
“Dad,” she whispered, “I just mimicked you. Everything I am comes from you.”
She twirled her fingers.
“And I will have that beer. There’s only one way to find out how hard her ghost lingers, right?”
No chugging, no mischief. Just a girl sipping her beer in her backyard.
“Remind me to put that on the list for when Child Services comes knocking,” he said. Half joking, mainly deflecting.
We watched the sunset, and Henry lit a fire and found blankets to keep us warm.
“Summer won’t settle in the air this year,” he said, half-distantly, “But the two of you haven’t noticed, have you? Staying warm in that room…studying.”
He threw another log into the fire and sat down with a sigh.
“I’m not going to pretend to understand what this is,” pointing his bottle at us, “but I see that it’s lovely, and I’m spellbound. It’s been a rocky ride…I haven’t enjoyed all the turns…but…”
He hesitated and breathed, trying to squeeze into the role of fatherhood.
“Just…I hope you’re careful, that’s all.”
Alice smirked.
“You’re afraid we’ll have a furball to fuck things up?”
Alice didn’t need beer or weed to stay unfiltered.
“Something like that,” he smiled.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “We’ve got this.”
I sat up, took her bottle, and finished it.
Then, I looked her dead in the eye.
“Is that a dare, babe?”
It wouldn’t be half bad somewhere in the future.
A mini-me-and-her.
After we un-fuck the world.
***
Before the un-fucking could start, we had to finish our exams. Math was ok, biology was a different story.
Not only was I a biological contradiction, I ached to get out of David’s clothes. They didn’t fit me anymore.
It wasn’t even that I didn’t know the answers. I couldn’t concentrate. My mind drifted out the window. There was a slight drizzle that came warm, humid, and clinging.
The fuckery of it all? There were the textbook answers, and then there was everything else.
Explain the process of sexual differentiation in human embryos, including the role of hormones such as testosterone and estrogen.
Well, fuck me raw with a baseball bat.
That wasn’t in the textbook, but that’s what my initial thought was.
Testosterone? It wasn’t just a word; it was a fucking math problem.
The initial flood divided by X milligrams of blockers, multiplied by every dose of estrogen I swallowed like gospel.
And what was the answer?
Me.
A biological contradiction that wouldn’t fit on their fucking test.
Describe the role of X and Y chromosomes in determining biological sex.
A cruel joke. The entire fucking world was built on X or Y.
Not X and Y.
Not something in between.
Just two letters, deciding your fate before you ever got to fucking breathe.
X or Y, you fuckers. You made sure there was no space in between.
Define homeostasis and provide an example of how the endocrine system maintains balance in the human body.
Balance. Right.
My system wasn’t maintaining shit. It was rejecting, absorbing, shifting, and changing.
A perfect storm inside my bloodstream, tides crashing against each other, waiting for something to settle.
Did this even apply to me?
Or was I always meant to be the exception?
Compare and contrast primary and secondary sex characteristics in human development.
Oh, now it’s a fucking circus.
Step right up! See the freak show!
The secondary sex characteristics that I was growing out of spite.
The Adam’s apple that refused to show.
The hips that still needed time.
The voice only cracked when I was pretending to be him.
I’m growing tits just to spite you!
Fuck you!
Explain the reproductive system’s role in human survival.
No.
Fuck you.
I stared at it, letting the clock run down.
Some questions don’t deserve an answer.
Some systems aren’t worth preserving.
Some bodies should have been made differently.
Because biology wasn’t a science, it was a cruel joke.
Not even funny.
I was done with letting this one define me.
I walked out of that room owning victory but had no idea what or how I’d answer.
Alice sat on the grass by the bus stop, hands full of snacks. She handed me a bagel that had been sitting in the sun for too long. Of course, she had aced her exam in record time.
“Hey, babe. Rough one?”
“I might have fucked up everything,” I sighed, “I knew what they wanted me to answer, but I have no idea what I wrote.”
“So? That’s your first book, then.”
Casual. Relaxing. Looking at the boy in front of her with too baggy clothes, too many curves, and the resentment of a thousand years of women before her.
“Take a look at the sign behind me, baby. Don’t hate on the institution. When you’re the best-selling author of the year, remember this place because in spite of it all, this is where it started.”
A red, fiery halo, green glinting eyes, a nose that wouldn’t stop twitching, and a smile that refused to fade.
I wanted to kiss her.
And she saw the temptation on me and teased just a little more. She stretched her figure into the sun and curved her back just right to enhance her figure.
And the juniors behind me whispering too loud.
“Fucking hot.”
She motioned for me to sit beside her.
“We take our fucking sweet time, babe. We cherish this. One more week, 7 days, with a weekend in between? Tonya? She’ll get fucked on the weekend, Allison will sit at home worrying about what’s after. Dwight will have his final days as group leader, then fade into history as the class of ’25 bully.”
She lay down and stared at the sky.
“You and me? This isn’t even the beginning.”
“I don’t even know where to start believing in that,” I whispered.
She looked at me.
Too tender, too revealing.
But it mattered to her.
“And that’s why we take our sweet fucking time.”
Her voice reminded me of surviving her mother’s death without regret.
Of dismantling the hospital staff in rage.
About the book already forming in my head.
I sighed.
Twisted uncomfortably.
“Can we at least rush to get home, babe?”
She closed her eyes, crossed her legs one boot over the other, and straightened her purple skirt with a lazy hand.
“Aye, we can hurry like fuck. After.”
It must have been strange for the others passing by, watching David look at his stepsister so tenderly.
Perhaps they shrugged it off as post-exam relief.
Perhaps they accepted the freak crushing on his stepsister.
All I know.
I had zero fucks to offer them.
I had so little fucks left for the world I didn’t notice the cruiser coming to a halt behind me.
“David!”
A whispered yell.
It brought me back.
I turned around to see Adam motioning me closer.
My heart sank and rose at the same time. Why’d he and Anthony look me up at school?
“Exams?” he asked.
“Yeah. Last one. Fucking biology.”
He laughed.
“Everything good?”
“I’m alive. It’s been…fuckery, but I’m alive.”
“No, Veronica,” he whispered, “You’re living.”
Anthony nodded and smiled at me.
Then, a slight shift. Official business.
“So…Henry’s case has been transferred locally, which is good. Alice is eighteen; that’s not their issue. But they came, saw, and needed a scapegoat. Henry Caldwell? I’m not even sure they know who they’re up against. As long as you guys stay out of trouble, our guy can keep it buried…until it fades away. But you need to stay out of trouble.”
I couldn’t resist. I leaked honey.
“Trouble, officer? Oh, why even make such an assumption?”
He sighed.
“Just call me next time,” he said, motioning for Anthony to take off.
***
My deepest, darkest secret? The one I hid from even her?
Staring into the mirror still ghosted me. He was still there. Shimmering. I argued with him, telling him to leave me be, but he insisted.
You’re the one bringing me back every day.
And he was right. And that’s where the pain came from. David being fucking right.
You’re the one holding on. There must be a reason.
Some days, he grew stronger, grounded only in the shards of his upbringing.
Peter replied, ‘Man, I don’t know what you’re talking about!’
Just as he was speaking, the rooster crowed.
The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter.
And Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him:
‘Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times.’
And he went outside and wept bitterly.
“You’re not fucking Jesus,” I whispered.
So, why do you treat me like one?
It was his name in the school records.
He was the one graduating.
Should I tell him?
He wasn’t graduating. He was attending his own wake.
I decided to let him linger in the mirror. I had better things to do.
The final fucking exam. Check!
Still legally David.
But all their documents of fuckery signed.
Biology, my ass.
Veronica Caldwell was attending college.
David?
He had a week to finish his final dance.
***
Those days between the final exam and graduation? After four years of getting to that point, the vacuum of confusion lingered on everyone. No more studying, no more tests, but also…rushing to fulfill all those things they had meant to do in high school.
To kiss the wrong people before it was too late.
To stay up all night and sleep through every class.
The mandatory bullshit of having to attend.
Of being kids for one final week.
Alice couldn’t care less and wrapped herself in nakedness, weed, and fuck ya’ll.
Me?
I was drawn to it. Like a fucking sociology study.
I could, like Alice had for four years, indulge in observation.
My eyes could linger on Stacey and Devonne. I could observe their beauty, their movements, finding something to adopt for myself. If they saw me, I dared to smile because they, too, were lost in the same limbo everyone else found themselves in.
And fuck me, if my desire had been strong for chocolate before? Yeah, Alice, I’d melt between those thighs.
I could watch Allison skip a step behind Tonya, chasing her shadow, but now…now I could see what Alice had seen.
Every time Tonya looked at Allison, there was a tender plea, “Just say it.”
Because Tonya didn’t know how to pull like Alice.
Even the guys were scattered; the small groups of shared identity crumbled beneath them. They realized they had to start walking on their own two feet into the next chapter.
Identities forged under four years of trying, failing, and getting up again. Shattered.
My breasts ached under the layers of lies.
I was warm, suffocating from hiding.
I was horny because all the girls decided to fuck the dress code, and all the guys looked…hot.
And I loved hiding under David for all of it.
Until it became too much.
The little girl’s room down in the basement, where Alice had cautioned my sexy and grounded me with weed and herself.
The rush of locking the door behind me—what if someone sees—and un-layering myself, letting them spring free. Rubbing them, sore and tired from being trapped and bound. Listening for the door.
Masturbation hadn’t really been a thing for him, but for me…fuck.
That stolen moment. Rubbing. Pulling. Twisting. Poking.
And the door opening…heart racing.
Stall next to mine.
So fucking close.
A slight slip? A thin moan?
Rushing through my thighs.
So fucking close.
Oh fuck!
Oh fuck!
Flush! Flush!
Spilling myself on the floor.
Finally…finally…the flush.
And a mind-blowing rush.
The faucet running.
My heart racing.
Not a sound.
Pumping the soap dispenser.
Breathing too loud. Too heavy.
Rinsing.
Still dripping myself onto the floor.
Shutting the water off.
Too fucking quiet.
One paper tissue.
Two paper tissues.
Three paper tissues.
How much drying does anyone need?
Footsteps.
Wastebasket.
Door.
Slamming shut.
Oh, my fucking God!
The painstaking process of layering myself back up without Alice’s hands. Still at every risk of being caught in the girl’s room.
My spillage on the floor.
No time.
Listening for footsteps that never came.
Sneaking out in the hallway, my hands were still sticky.
Dirty Veronica.
Dirty, wonderful Veronica.
Every stare in the hallway felt like, “We know what you did.”
Finding my tray in the cafeteria.
Still flustered.
Finding my spot at Allison’s and Tonya’s table with rosy cheeks and the pressure gone.
Finding my shy smile.
Tonya and Allison. It had become a habit. They could have girls talk without worry because David was cool—not stupid, like the other guys.
“So, David, know what the next chapter is? I bet you found a way to ace your exams!”
David knew fuck all. But I knew.
Then, whispers.
“You’ve lived with Alice for a while…what’s her secret? How can she be so effortlessly sure…confident?”
“Effortless?” I whispered, trying to sum up Alice in something that would translate, “You think that’s effortless?”
I hesitated. Explaining Alice didn’t even feel right, and this time, it wasn’t on Alice’s terms.
“She is because everything she does is effort.”
I had to say it.
“You don’t even remember anymore, do you?”
They looked at me, confused.
I knew they’d been part of it in a past they couldn’t recollect because Alice had erased that memory.
“You don’t remember calling her names, ginger, fatty, freckles…because she erased that. And that takes fucking effort.”
They looked down. They searched their heads for the memories and found them…hidden.
“We were just kids,” Tonya whispered.
“No,” I said, “We are never just kids.”
Allison shifted, uncomfortable.
“So why is she still so cool with everything?”
I could have told them how everything had haunted her for years, how she’d been standing in front of that mirror forcing her to see differently, how she’d gone for weed to release the pressure. And when that wasn’t enough? Booze. Sex. Spiraling until she crashed.
But that wasn’t my story to tell.
“Because every day she wakes up pushing for better,” I said, closing the conversation.
They looked at each other, then me.
“Sorry, David…we didn’t know.”
They were cute. Oblivious but cute.
They apologized to me for her but never thought much of how they’d treated David in the past.
And it was okay because Alice had pushed me.
To be better.
Yes, that final week of high school was about growing into me while watching everyone else crumble. They’d be okay; they’d find their way.
It was just easy because I knew where I was going.
Even with Alice at home in her bliss and not having to anchor my very existence.
***
I walked home those days, not because the bus scared me, but because it gave me time to say goodbye to the streets that had tried to crush me, the stares that had mocked me, and to David.
My phone buzzed.
Where are you?
I smiled at the screen.
I imagined her naked on the floor, zen as fuck, barely registering time but feeling I should have been home.
Another buzz. The purest Alice-ism.
So horny
I hurried.
***
The one day even Alice couldn’t ignore dawned.
The results of four years—either shattering or blooming in one final day.
But that wasn’t even what ate me alive.
Gown fitting did.
She noticed my shift during breakfast, tugging at my pajama top. They hid nothing. My tits poked like fucking Everest.
I could tuck, push, bind—but in that gown, I had tits.
Gown fitting?
Yeah, try fitting fucking David’s gown on this body.
Alice stretched, unconcerned, casual. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m confident you did great.”
I blinked at her, barely comprehending.
“Your exams,” she laughed.
Only… I wasn’t laughing.
“Gown fitting,” I said, just to get it out there.
She could have laughed.
Could have called me ridiculous.
Could have said, “Only you, babe, would turn today into a crisis about fitting clothes.”
But she didn’t.
Because she understood.
She saw it.
“Oh,” she said, her voice quiet now. “I see.”
I swallowed. “God… this is wreckage.”
Henry peered above his newspaper.
“It’s not written in stone. It’s not mandatory to wear the gown,” he said, “but that’d be a sore thumb that could stand out even worse.”
“Fuck…what do I do?” I whispered.
Alice twitched her nose.
“Duct tape, sweaters, layers. You’d better make sure that gown doesn’t fit at all. I think they’ve got a sale on tents at Wal-Mart.”
“In this weather? I’ll scorch, burn, melt. I’ll fucking die.”
She took my hand and smiled.
“Yes. That’s the whole point.”
She had to drag me upstairs.
She cried when she helped me fit into him; at this point, she hated it more than I did.
“It feels wrong on so many levels,” she whispered.
And it dawned on me. David had been her friend.
“He’s…I’m him…at the core,” I said.
Her eyes met mine, and her smile was brave.
“I wouldn’t have cared,” she said, “Until you girlied me so bad.”
She cupped my face and kissed me.
“It has a certain poetic flair. I’m the only one left to mourn David. And ultimately, I’m the one who killed him.”
Words. There were none to dispute or even meet her in that sentiment. Because, as with everything else, she owned her own pain. And it wasn’t even a pain I could share with her.
So, I decided David’s final days should be more David and less Veronica. For her.
That’s why I cowered on the bus, that’s why I didn’t meet their eyes, and that’s why I withdrew from the conversations.
When I finally spoke, I let him talk.
Hesitant. Drawn. Stuttering.
One final performance before his funeral.
Everyone waited impatiently; you could feel a stillness in the whispered conversations and anticipation.
Of course, our school was the last analog bastion, founded on the whipping principles of the Bible. No online portal, no personal handout. A fucking bulletin board in the hall, everyone reduced to a number and a letter.
Finally, Principal Edwards strode through the hall. She marched majestically like she’d done so many previous years. She knew she held everyone’s scattered futures in her hands.
Everyone shifted, drawn towards the bulletin board, but in a strange pattern. No one wanted to be first in line.
“Class of 2025, it’s truly been a privilege,” she declared, “The final results are posted. Best of luck to you all.”
You’d expect chaos, but it lingered.
“Oh, fuck ya’ll,” Alice sighed and strode up to receive her straight A’s.
And just like that, Alice triggered chaos. It was like ants storming an intruder, and it was mayhem. And out of that crowd, marching in heavy boots, a yellow skirt with a studded leather belt, a green-leaf t-shirt, and a red halo of force.
Alice fucking Caldwell.
And she marched straight to David Sheperd.
David met her hesitantly, looking at the floor. She brushed my hand in passing.
I turned around. She leaned against the wall. Chill. As. Fuck.
“So?” I said, already knowing the answer.
She smirked.
“Well…aced English,” she said, “B in math and psychology. C in History.”
I couldn’t believe what she was telling me.
“A fucking C in French.”
“Hang on, you didn’t take French.”
“Nope, I didn’t. But you did. Those are your fucking results, babe.”
She hadn’t mentioned my failure. My heart dropped. This was it. The fuckery of it all. I just knew I’d fucked up.
“Biology…” I said, “That’s where I fucked up.”
“You sure fucked something, babe,” she said.
Then she did the craziest shit Alice ever did.
She kissed David Sheperd in front of everyone. But it was cool as fuck, because everyone was drowning in their own shit.
“You fucking aced it, babe. A fucking A. Stuff of legends.”
For four years, David Shepherd made it through high school without breaking down in front of everyone.
It took Alice Caldwell to break him in the best possible way.
Everyone guessed David had failed, and no one suspected anything other than Alice’s comfort.
Because they couldn’t hear the whispers.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, babe!”
I have no idea how I did it. That final exam? The paper that taunted my entire fucking existence? Sometimes, automation kicks in.
I knew the answers and wrote them down while my conscious mind unraveled at the irony.
Like fucking a familiar cock while dreaming of a different one.
Not once did I think of asking Alice how she had done.
Because why would I?
The room snuck back in.
I turned around and saw the carnage, the victories, the despair, and the delight. Allison wept; Tonya comforted.
That’s your moment, right there, Allison…
Dwight and his crew of happy sailors stood by the door, joking and scratching heads. They had all survived the war and were preparing to be assigned another mission.
Out of all the casualties, Allison’s hurt the most. I’d grown fond of her. Now, she was lost in a moment that stretched too long, too painful.
And as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t break character to comfort her.
The victories, the losses…
Not every victory was claimed fair.
Only a few of the losses felt just.
Fuck how I hated high school.
But the fuckery wasn’t over.
The bell rang.
Gown fitting.
The fucking Imperial March.
Lines forming through the corridors.
One final act of conforming kids into unity.
Fuck that shit.
I broke rank and headed for the exit.
They can mail that fucking diploma.
Twenty more steps.
Through the door.
Never to return.
Ten more steps.
The tips of my shoes.
Two more steps.
And there was Alice. Cool as fuck.
“Though I’d find you here, babe,” she said and took my hand. Reeling me in.
“You are fucking graduating with me, Veronica,” she whispered, “Besides, you need to hear my Valedictorian speech.”
She looked at me.
“I need you there, babe.”
Back in line.
But when Alice’s got you back?
You’re invincible.
Names called out.
“Caldwell, Alice!”
Not even on this last day of school would she put up with their fuckery.
Too tight.
Too big.
Too long.
“No, Mr. Stephens, this butt wasn’t meant to be hidden.”
For a second, I prepared to hear my name.
“Croydon, Bill!”
My name wasn’t Caldwell.
How many letters are there between C and S?
How many students?
Why fucking X or Y?
“Goldberg, Allison!”
You get your diploma, Allison. After summer school. You’ve got this.
Teary-eyed but thankful. And oh, so pretty.
You’ll get to wrap those legs around Tonya this summer—X markers all over that bitch.
“Yo! David! Summer school, eh? I’ll think of you while chilling on the beach!”
Tony Peterson. The last fucking fuck still trying.
“Tony Peterson,” Alice purred, “Daddy’s perfect investment plan. Which college did he pay your way into? University perhaps? How much is a free pass to Harward these days?”
But Alice never stops at destruction.
Even as she glided across the floor, Tony cowered and protected his crotch.
“Don’t make a spectacle of yourself, Tony-boy; it’s so unflattering. I just wanted to remind you that you and your family? You’re the fuck in the system. And I’m coming for you. All of you.”
“Peterson, Tony!”
Tony decided his gown fit without hesitation. He just needed to get out of there.
“You okay?” Alice whispered.
“I’m fine. Him? He can’t touch me.”
“No. Not anymore, but creeps like that? They need to be taken down.”
I looked at her; she was cute when she was angry. She had this one line between her eyes that she reserved for anger. She hid it even when she orgasmed like a river.
“So, you do give a fuck?”
The line disappeared.
“No,” she smiled, “I give them all.”
“David, Shepherd!”
The relentless machine, grinding on.
Lamb to the slaughter.
Fuckery of fucks.
Sweaty palms.
Summoning the voice.
“Here, David. Make sure it fits.”
Summoning the voice.
“Too small…”
Not the voice.
“What’s that, Shepherd?”
A glitch in the Matix, sir.
Breathe.
“It’s too small,” I said.
“Are you sure? If anything, it looks…”
“X! My size is X!”
Mr. Stephenson shrugged his shoulders, pushed a bag in my hands, and shook his head.
“Stedwell, Tonya!”
“I need out,” I breathed.
Alice knew.
Suffocating.
The air thickened, hot, and stale. The halls too small, the walls too tight.
Students crowded like chess pieces in a stalemate.
Static. Waiting. Caged.
Too close.
And I was stuck in the middle, drowning in pity and someone else’s name.
“I’m going to be sick,” I gasped.
Alice’s grip tightened.
“No, you’re not.”
Firm. Grounded. A lie.
It climbed up my throat—hot, sour, rising like panic.
My stomach clenched, twisting.
The heat. The polyester in my hands. The weight.
David’s clothes suffocating me, squeezing, pressing—
Rejecting.
No more room. No more space. No more fucking air.
I lurched forward.
The last thing David Shepherd did in high school was empty his guts in the aula.
