Meeting at school

The next morning, I pull on a baggy tracksuit, a silent protest against the new body that’s been thrust upon me. The fabric swallows my curves, there's something comforting about the androgynous look it provides. It feels like a buffer between my old life and this new reality. Mum and Dad are quiet as we drive to school, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. They're trying to be supportive, but I know they're just as lost as I am.

When we arrive, the headteacher, Mrs. Smith, meets us in her office. She's a stern woman with a no-nonsense attitude, but today she seems almost... human. She looks at me with a mix of pity and curiosity. "Welcome, Kylie. We're all here to support you through this... transition." The word feels alien on her tongue, like she's trying it on for size.

The meeting is a blur of explanations and reassurances. They go over the plan to introduce me to the school as a new student, Kylie a distant cousin of mine who's come to live with us due to family issues. As for Dominic, the story is that he's dealing with a serious but temporary illness and will be out indefinitely. I nod along, trying to keep up with the lies, trying to believe them myself.

Mrs. Smith tells me that she's arranged for me to have sessions with Miss Thomas, the school counselor, to help me adjust to my new life. She says it's to help me with the 'feminine habits' I wouldn't know having grown up a boy. I swallow hard, thinking of all the things Miss Thomas might cover in those sessions. How to apply makeup, how to deal with periods, and all the other things that come with being a girl. It's overwhelming, but I know I need help. She will be the only other person to know the truth of my identity.

As the meeting comes to a close, Mrs. Smith looks at me with a firmness that tells me she's about to lay down the law. "Now, Kylie, I want to make it very clear that you will be expected to adhere to all school policies, including the uniform code. Your classes will remain the same, and you will receive no special treatment.”

I nod, feeling a bit of relief that she's not going to let me off the hook. It's like she's giving me a strange kind of validation, telling me that even though I've changed, I'm still expected to perform to the same standards. It's a bizarre feeling of relief knowing I won’t be treated as some sort of pity case.

"Now, let's get you into your uniform," Mrs. Smith says, standing up and leading me out of her office. She takes me to an empty locker room where they've prepared a uniform for me. It's the same uniform all the other girls wear: a pleated skirt with a plaid green pattern, a white button-up blouse, a tie to match the skirt, a grey v neck wool jumper with a green stripe through the collar and a grey blazer adorned with green accents and the school crest. They’ve also left me a pair of white socks and black Mary-Janes.

Mum and Dad wait outside while I awkwardly strip out of my tracksuit and into the new outfit. The skirt feels strange around my legs, the material tickling my thighs and giving a whole new dimension to the way I walk. The blouse fits, in theory, but is clearly supposed to be worn with a bra underneath, leaving my nipples visible through the white cotton. Luckily the jumper will solve that problem for the moment. I clip my tie to my collar before pulling the v-neck over my head, feeling the soft fabric brush against my skin. It's definitely smaller than any of my old clothes, fitting snugly to my new curves. The blazer is pretty similar to the male uniform one, except for the cut to accommodate my new figure.

The shoes are the final touch, and as I slip them on, I feel a weird sense of finality. This isn't a costume; this is what I'll be wearing every day from now on. The uniform feels surprisingly comfortable, like it was made for me. I look in the mirror and see Kylie staring back, looking a bit lost but also... pretty, The girl staring back at me has a delicate face with a sprinkle of freckles across the nose, full pink lips and wide, scared eyes.. The clothes suit me in a way that's eerily right.

Mrs. Smith knocks on the door. "Ready, Kylie?" she calls out. I take a deep breath and nod, stepping out of the locker room to face my parents. They both look at me with tight smiles, trying to contend with the fact this is moving too fast and being treated too casually. "Perfect," she says, nodding approvingly. "So, I expect to see you tomorrow morning where you'll be introduced as a brand new student, Kylie, Dominic's cousin."