Chapter 1

A raucous burst of laughter erupted from the class, including Jake himself. He'd felt it bubble up from his stomach and had done nothing to stop it, instead letting it join those of his classmates.
A girl had just walked into the class, head up and trying to ignore the taunts of her fellow students, and had tripped on someone's bag, letting loose her textbook and binder, which she then joined on the floor. The sight would've been hilarious no matter who had tripped, but the fact that it was her made it that much funnier.
She stood, straightening her clothes and retrieving her fallen book, and made her way over to her desk. Said desk was in the back corner of the class, where she sat alone. No one wanted to sit near her, let alone right next to her. She'd been the laughing stalk of the entire grade ever since she'd transferred there last year.
With her masculine figure and too-short hair, her awkward gait and the fact that she didn't swing her arms when she walked, it wasn't long before the other students began to take notice of her insecurities and use them against her. And she was easily manipulated and self-conscious to boot.
Jake watched as she sat down, jaw set and cheeks aflame, feeling no pity but rather a twisted enjoyment. At least it wasn't him, right?
He settled back into his own chair as class started.
The teacher told them to pull out their homework, and called on the girl to answer question one. Every face in the class turned to look at her. Her cheeks relit and she stuttered out a meek, "Uh... T-twenty--twenty-seven..." Her voice cracked, and the students stifled their laughter behind sweater sleeves and open palms. "Now, class," was all the teacher said before moving to the next question.
By the time class let out, most students were wiping tears from their eyes as they filed out through the door, textbooks in hand.
The girl trailed behind the rest of the students, but when she saw a gap in the sea of them, she pumped her legs faster, passing them all.
Jake stifled a yawn as his friend nudged him, pointing to Jake's girlfriend a little way's down the hall. He split off from the group to join her, and they walked home hand-in-hand. When Jake finally arrived at his own house, he was much too tired to keep his eyes open, so he slumped in his desk chair and let them droop slowly closed, feeling the gentle tug of sleep take him out of his own body.
When he awoke it was to a knee in the back, and he let out a small cry of pain. Who had kneed him? Why was anyone in his room? Groggily he opened his eyes and saw only darkness. Had he slept that long? Jake lifted his head and turned to see someone moving beside him, under unfamiliar blankets. Whose bed was he in and how had he gotten there? He blinked a few times and his eyes adjusted to the darkness.
He tried to ask, "Who are you?" but all that came out was a low groan.
"Sorry," a voice replied, "but you're in my spot."
His confusion only grew, and now he was no longer groggy, he was wide awake. He was panicked. He didn't know where he was, he didn't know what time it was and he didn't know with whom he was. He stood up on shaky legs and made his way over to the person who was now mostly asleep.
He leaned in and squinted to make out the face, but realized their hair was draped across their nose, rendering it impossible to see their face. He saw their mouth crack into a small smile and suddenly they were reaching out to him, petting his head and under his chin.
"What is it?" they asked, rubbing his ear. "Go to sleep." They withdrew their hand and used it to brush their hair behind them.
Jake took a few hurried steps backwards. Oh no. Oh hell no. This had to be a dream, he could not actually be at this girl's house, in her bed, with her petting him.
He leapt off the bed and ran to the door, the fact that he was a lot smaller than the door not registering as he clawed desperately at the wood, a thin whine escaping his throat.
Jake heard the soft shush of feet on carpet and then he was being lifted into the air, brought to her chest and stroked. "What's the matter? Why are you crying? Come sleep, baby." She walked back to her bed and deposited him on the pillow next to her. She'd called him baby and they weren't even dating! They'd never even spoken!
The spinning of his mind and whirring of his brain eventually tired him out again, and within minutes he had fallen back to sleep, her arm draped over him protectively.

He woke with a start as the lights suddenly turned on. Music was playing softly from a record player on a small table in the corner of the room. The bed on which he lay was soft and warm and oh so inviting, he never wanted to leave it. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face under his arm, trying to block out the light.
Jake became aware of another sound, a sweet, soft sound. Someone was singing. He couldn't resist the temptation. So he peeked out from under his arm to see the girl, the same girl he had seen in his dream last night, half-naked and pulling on a pair of jeans. His eyes practically bugged out of his skull.
Why was she in his room, changing? What the actual f**k was going on here?
As his heartbeat calmed to a more regular level, he noticed two things.
One, that she was actually a lot smaller than she seemed at school; her shoulders were narrow, and when combined with her lean torso and slightly-flared hips, formed a pleasant hourglass shape. Nearly. Her waist wasn't quite as pinched in as the other girls' he had seen; it was less curvy and made her body look more square.
Two, that all her clothes, or those he could see through the open closet door, were masculine. They were the size of clothes Jake himself had bought from the men's department. He wondered why she had such clothes if she never wore them to school.
He turned his gaze back to her and accidentally met her gaze in the mirror. She smiled, and when she turned around he let out a small yelp of surprise: her chest was entirely flat and had a fair amount of hair growing on it.
"What is it, baby?" she asked him, reaching out to pet him once more. He leaned out of her reach and stared up at her in confusion. Her voice was a lot deeper than he'd originally thought. While it was mostly feminine, it had a slight husk to it, as if it were used to speaking in lower registers.
Before she could interrogate him further, a voice called, "Oliver! You're gonna be late to school!"
She flinched visibly, her brow furrowing. "Damn, eh? He just can't seem to get it right, can he?" she murmured softly, glancing down at Jake.
Had her dad just called her Oliver? Jake didn't know her name, but certainly that wasn't it?
"D****t, Harold!" an angry voice scolded, presumably her mother's. "Would you stop calling her that!"
"Honey, that's his name. It's what we wrote on his birth certificate. What else am I going to call him?"
"Try calling her by her real name: Shelley! You know that's what she wants to be called, why is it so difficult to do it?"
"Susan, that's a girl's name. I am not calling my son by a girl's name." Harold's voice was firm, cold.
"Oh, for god's sake!" Susan exclaimed. "She is a girl! Our daughter is a girl and she only wants to be accepted and loved by her only two parents! Is that so hard to understand? Is it so hard to just love her for who she is?"
"You gave birth to a son. My son. Now I don't care if he goes around at school actin' like a twink. But if he brings his damn issues into my house, that's where we got a problem. As long as he don't bring his issues here and flaunt around his queer self, we don't got any problems." He heard footsteps and assumed Harold was walking away.
When he turned to look at Shelley, Jake saw she had dissolved into tears. She had balled up the shirt she'd been holding and pressed it against her mouth, stifling her already-silent sobs. She sank to the floor and brought her knees up to her chest, pressing her forehead against them.
Jake was frozen where he lay. How had he managed to stumble into this kind of situation, one he had never fathomed before? Then he did the only thing he could think to do, and jumped off the bed to curl up next to her. She lay a shaking hand on his back, the other one still fisted in her shirt. After a few minutes she had collected herself, standing and pulling the shirt over her head. With interest Jake noted it was a more feminine shirt, with shorter sleeves and a lower neck. She reached up on both sides and grabbed something around her waist, adjusting it so it sat more comfortably against her skin. He realized she had put on a bra without his noticing.
She ran a brush through her hair, which she had probably been growing out; that explained its awkward length. Then she turned to Jake, still seated on the floor, and said, "Bye, baby. See you after school," as she ran a hand down his back.
He blinked after she had pulled on a sweater and shut the door firmly behind her, and suddenly he was back in his own room, neck aching from being at such an awkward angle all night.
Someone was pounding on his door. "Jake! You're gonna be late! It's quarter after already!"
He shot to his feet, quickly changed his shirt and smoothed down his hair. He grabbed a slice of bread out of the kitchen, managed to choke it down despite its dryness, and popped a piece of gum into his mouth.