Theo (Boyxboy)(Trans)

Chapter Eight

I especially hate the length of my hair. It tickles my chin and neck slightly with every movement and when I get hot and sweaty it sticks to the back of my neck. Male or not, I personally just think short hair is more attractive and convenient.

There's so much about me that I'm forced to work on to appear as feminine as my mother thinks a girl should be, but I hate it. I hate the lacy bras and underwear she buys me. I hate the sheer blouses that show cleavage and the heels that make my legs look longer and make my hips and butt stand out more. I hate the make up that gets in my eyes, and the hair curlers that I almost always burn myself on. I exhaust myself trying to create an image that doesn't even make me happy! I'm so damn tired of it. Why can't I be attractive and loved and still be the person I really want? Look the way I want; clothed and naked.

Just... why?

Feeling slightly bitter, I decide to turn off the main light of the bathroom, leaving only the in-shower light on so that I'm forced to just shower and get out without staring at and hating my reflection. I scrub at my too soft, pale, skin with disgustingly sweet scented body wash. Honestly, I prefer simple scents; clean and subtle.

My stomach sinks slightly when I wash over my breasts, imagining how much better it'd feel if my chest were flat, and even more so as my hand reaches lower, forcing me to face the physical form I am trapped in despite my eyes squeezing shut to avoid seeing what I detest.

I must have taken too long, as I snap out of it, realizing I'm sat in the bottom of the shower, letting the spray rain over me, a hard knocking making me jump. "Hurry up! What are you even doing?"

I shake my head, hurrying to turn off the water and grab for my towel, "N-Nothing! Shut up, brat! I'll be out in a minute."

Without stopping to think about hat just happened in the shower, and possibly break down over it, I hurry to towel dry my hair and tug on the dark grey sweat pants, a white long sleeve, and a plain black hoodie over top for warmth and so I can avoid wearing a bra today. I do, however, swipe on a little eye-liner and mascara just in case mother does happen to somehow catch word, I can I didn't go out looking like complete a mess.

That's the difficult part. If I'm not going out dressed entirely as Theo--which I certainly can't with my little brother with me-- then I have to at least somewhat resemble the girl my mother raised. I call this a fair combination. Not an annoying amount of makeup and the clothes could be passed off as me wanting to be comfy because aunt flow came to visit.

With a shrug, I grab some cash and shove it in my sweats pocket and hurry downstairs, "Alright, you ready to go?"

"Are you?" Liam asks in exasperation, trudging over to the door.

I roll my eyes, pulling on the pair of chucks laying there, and shove him out the door. We take the city bus mostly to avoid being seen and because I'm entirely-- shamelessly--lazy. The ice cream parloris actually one of my favourite places ever. It's an adorable fifties themed place, and they sell other food items, but they pride themselves on their icecream and milkshakes.

I let Liam order himself a banana split and I get myself a vanilla shake in the old fashion glasses with cream on top, and we make or way over to the cheesy, blue booths and start eating in silence.

"So... where'd you go?" He asks, mumbling through icecream.

I smirk at his chocolate covered lip, "Here and there."

"Jerk," He grumbles. "You're lucky I didn't tell mom."

"Like you would. You know I'd kick your ass if you ratted me out. Besides, you knew full well if you didn't blackmail me, you wouldn't get something out of it. If anyone's the jerk, it's you," I say back, sticking my tongue out.