And what do you mean ‘we don’t do any of this embarrassing others bullshit’ — isn’t that the whole point of this crossdressing day? I type, my thumbs so quick that the order of the letters gets jumbled occasionally and I have to go back to correct them.
Maybe this whole thing is less about embarrassing anybody and more about breaking gender boundaries in the safety of the collective? Penny replies almost immediately. She must be on her laptop with how quickly she’s typing. And anyway, everybody’s doing it, so even if it was, nobody would be singled out about it. And you least of all, because ain’t no way any of the boys look better than you in dresses or whatever you went with.
Speaking of which.
I knew the question was coming, but I’m in the middle of taking a bite from my toast when the message pops up. Hastily, I put the plate back down on the porch roof, wiping my hands on my shorts before picking my phone back up to reply. I ended up going with plain, light blue shorts and a marine top with white seaming and a little bow at the center of the front neckline. The top isn’t cropped, only a thin line of my stomach visible between the hem and the waist of the shorts when I move in certain ways. It’s the simplicity of the outfit that got me. I don’t want to look overly fancy for crossdressing day. I want to look normal. Like a normal girl. Shorts, a top, some clip-on earrings — even though I was tempted to let them convince me to just get my ears pierced — and a gray-blue scrunchy that matches the shorts pretty well, one that Sinéad had bought on a whim, because she caught me looking at it.
“Great taste,” she’d said, snatching it from the shelf next to the checkout, and winking at me.
That sounds lovely! Penny replies after a moment. I mean, I’d’ve gone full slut with a miniskirt and bra-top, but not everybody can be as cool as me, I suppose.
Do you think she knows? I ask, ignoring Penny’s teasing.
The ‘typing…’ sign disappears when I hit enter. Then she replies, Unlikely, I think? Is she queer herself?
No? Well, I don’t think so. She’s constantly flirting with Drew, after all. But she bought me a scrunchy when she caught me looking at it.
That could’ve just been her being nice. I think you’re being wayyyy too paranoid. I said already, cis people don’t recognize trans people. Okay, sure, you were having fun shopping with them, but that doesn’t mean you’re trans. Just that you’re not dead set on masculine identity presentation.
“Max!”
I look up at Drew, who’s currently in the middle of climbing out of his window and onto the tree.
“Drew!” I watch in mild amusement as he climbs across, moving with the usual ease.
“How was shopping, yesterday?” he asks, arriving on the roof.
We didn’t have the chance to talk yesterday. He only got back very late from the lake, and I’d already been in bed by then.
“Didn’t Sinéad tell you?”
It’s not that I expect that she told him anything, more that I want confirmation that she didn’t. She and the other girls still went to the lake after our shopping spree. They tried to convince me to come along, but by the time we were standing in the parking lot with our shopping bags, I was positively exhausted.
“She told me nothing! Said it was a secret.”
I smirk. “Then maybe I shouldn’t tell you, either?”
Drew gives a disbelieving laugh. “I mean, I expected you to find friends, but I’m surprised it went this quickly. Well, I’m glad.” He gives me a firm smile. “And if you’re talking about it like this, at least that means you didn’t have a bad time of it.”
He pauses, stretching his back. “I don’t suppose you’ll be able to tell me about your outfit?”
“That’s a surprise,” I say, raising my hands innocently. “Do you even have an outfit yet?”
Abruptly, Drew leans forward, turning towards his house.
“AMY!”
I act outraged. “Why didn’t you tell me she’s home?”
“She arrived only late yesterday,” he says shortly, right before facing the house again as the window next to his own opens and his big sister sticks her head past the curtains.
“WHAT?” she yells, scrunching up her face to look at us past the sun. Even though she has a pair of sunglasses literally in her hair.
I like Drew’s sister. She’s five years older than us and moved out for university several years ago. I only see her occasionally, but she used to babysit for us, and we actually both liked her quite a lot. She was a cool older sister. She’d let us watch TV late into the night and bribe us into baking with her by letting us eat icing and crumble topping and similar stuff during the process.
“CAN I BORROW A DRESS FROM YOU?”
“YOU CAN EAT MY ASS!” she replies, showing him the finger. Which, if you don’t know Amy, is a ‘yes’.
I lose it when their Mum yells “LANGUAGE!” from behind the house and both of them flinch slightly, grinning like they just played a prank together.
Amy gives a kindhearted laugh. “It’s called an accessory, you imbecile, and I’m about to head out.”
She waves at me when I fall over, fighting for air while laughing. “Hi, Max! Nice to see some things don’t change.”
It is all I can do to wave back limply as I catch my breath.
Amy giggles, and retreats back into her room, closing the window. She’s only been gone for a second, when Drew elbows me lightly. “Wanna go for a walk as well?”
I raise an eyebrow, finishing my toast and washing it down with orange juice. “Do you have anywhere particular in mind?”
His grin grows manic. “We could check out the waterfall? I haven’t been there yet this year.”
“Isn’t that a party spot now?”
“Last I checked, it still looked pretty nice. Like, okay, a few cigarette butts up by the rocks, but no garbage floating in the water or anything. And I haven’t heard of any parties taking place there yet.”
The waterfall used to be our spot. The walk there through the forest is too inconvenient for regular parties, but I know he made it much more popular with the crowds when he organized a gathering there a few years back.
“Sure,” I say, getting up and gathering my things. “The way I know you, you’ll probably want to go swimming, if you’re already there, right?”
“Obviously,” Drew confirms.
“’Kay. I’ll put on my swimming trunks and bring a towel. Want me to get water and sunscreen for you as well?”
“Awww, you take such good care of me.”
As I climb back into my room, I make a mental note to pack the little first aid kit I put together two years back as well. I always take it when I know Drew and I are going somewhere not so easily accessible, because more often than not, Drew will end up with cuts or scrapes from climbing stuff.
***
“I haven’t been here in over a year,” I say idly, strolling along the pathway next to Drew. Above us, the canopy rustles gently in the breeze. The air smells of bark and fir needles and dry earth. Birds are singing everywhere. They love the forest just as much as I do: my body is lighter here than out in the heat of the day. The trees give me life.
“Why’s that?” Drew asks, tilting his head to the side as he watches the branches above.
“I didn’t like the possibility of others being there.”
“But barely anybody is ever there?”
“But everybody from our year knows about it. So they could be there.”
“Oh.” His shoulders droop as the realization hits him. “Was I not supposed to tell them?”
“It’s a public space,” I mumble, avoiding his gaze. “Just me being a weirdo.”
“You’re not a weirdo,” he insists.
I roll my eyes. I’m going to say more, but right then we turn a corner and the waterfall comes into view. It falls down a cliff of twenty feet, surrounded by rocks and moss and fern. The water makes a constant rushing sound I really like – a static that is not loud enough to drown out a conversation. There isn’t a lot of water that comes down the waterfall. Even so, a pond has formed at its foot, forty feet across, large enough to swim in. Or to jump into.
“The rope is gone,” Drew says as we come closer. And indeed, the tall beech tree to the left of the waterfall is missing the rope that used to hang there. We used to swing into the water by it. Well, Drew mostly.
“They must have removed it to discourage parties,” he muses.
“Bummer.” I look around. It’s not like I need the rope to have a good time here, but I had been looking forward to the flight one final time.
“I mean, we could probably just jump off of the tree?”
“That could be fun,” I concede. “Though I’m not sure how I would get up there.”
I’ve never been a very good climber, but the lowest branches of the beech are at least seven feet off the ground — far out of my reach.
“Oh, that’s not a problem. I can lift you up.” He says it casually, without even looking at me. He’s still scrutinizing the branches that reach across the water, like he’s not even worried about the ascent.
“Okay, that’s the plan,” he says after another moment, clapping his hands twice before taking off his shirt. Almost immediately, my face goes uncomfortably hot. But I take off my shirt as well, dropping it and the bag with the water bottles and towels on the flat rocks by the shore.
By the time I’ve kicked off my shoes, Drew is already underneath the beech, reaching for the lowest branch. The muscles in his shoulders flex as he grabs it, engaging his shoulder blades before pulling himself up with obvious ease. I barely manage to avert my eyes before he turns to grin down at me.
“Your turn now,” he says, leaning down and offering me his hand.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I ask skeptically as I approach. “You could hurt yourself.”
Drew gives a gentle, low laugh. “You weigh next to nothing, Max. And I promise I’ll lift you with my legs, not my arms or back.” As if for emphasis, he engages his back and grips the branch he’s holding on to with his left hand even more tightly.
“See? Nothing that could happen. And I promise I won’t drop you.”
“Okay,” I mumble, grabbing him around the wrist as his fingers close around mine.
“Ready?”
“Yes—”
He stands up. It’s like I’m not even there, the movement seems so effortless. Suddenly, I’m dangling right next to the lowest branch, his hold still firm around my wrist. With my other hand, I grasp another branch and pull myself properly onto the tree.
“See? Piece of cake!” Drew grins, already climbing on towards the branches that reach over the pond.
I follow him, much more hesitantly, but trying to keep up nevertheless. We’re high above the ground and every step I take up here only makes me more aware of this. To add insult to injury, we have to climb further up to get to the branches that reach over the pond. They’re easily fifteen feet above the water surface.
“Wanna go first?” Drew asks, grinning back at me, casually holding on to a branch at the height of his hip.
My heartbeat quickens as I look down at the water. “How deep is the water, even?”
“Deep enough,” he assures me. “I dove down once to check. Has got to be more than ten feet.”
I shift my weight nervously. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
He hums thoughtfully. “If it helps, I could, like, drop you? From hanging below the branch, that way the fall would be a lot shorter.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And you think that’s a better idea? What if you fall?”
“I won’t,” he says confidently. “I didn’t fall earlier, I won’t fall now. And I definitely will not drop you until you want me to. I promise.”
Somehow, that makes it easier. I give a hesitant nod, then lower myself onto the branch until I’m sitting next to him. Once again, his hand takes a firm hold of my wrist, while my other hand holds on to the same branch he’s leaning on.
“Anytime you’re ready,” Drew says. His voice is calm and a little deep, and it occurs to me suddenly that this is yet another reason why I really like listening to him.
Slowly, I lean forward until my weight teeters at the edge of falling, readjust my free hand on the branch, then lower myself until I’m hanging. Drew doesn’t let go, even though I don’t technically need him yet. My weight is held completely by my other hand.
“You can let go,” he says from above. “I’ve got you.”
“Three, two, one—” I let go. There’s a short moment where my body is both swinging and falling, then Drew regains control over my weight and slows the momentum.
“See?” he says when I look up. He’s still grinning. “I’ve got you.”
Carefully, he lowers me further, until his hand is below the branch he’s crouched on.
“Want me to swing you?” he asks with a twinkle in his eyes. “I promise, I won’t go wild with it. Just a little.”
There’s a distant awareness in my mind that I should absolutely hate the idea of this, but I can’t make myself care. I just nod, grinning mutely. Drew swings me, once, twice, and then he lets go and I fly through the air, letting out a squeal of joy. The water comes closer and closer, and then I crash through the surface, cool water whirling around me in a stream of bubbles.