The next morning, Kelly Anne lends me a skirt and crop top to wear. We eat breakfast and hang out for a while before I leave. At home, I announce myself, and Mom comes rushing into the foyer and holds me close as she says, “Thank the Lord, you’re alright. Where have you been?”
Rather than answer her, I ask, “Where’s Dad?”
“He’s gone to the store to deal with some problems.”
“Good,” I reply and sigh in relief. “I don’t want to have another argument, and to answer your question, I stayed with Kelly Anne. And to answer your unasked question, no, I didn’t. When I left here, I went straight to Kelly Anne’s.”
Her shoulders rex visibly, and her eyes soften as she gives me a small smile. “I’m gd. I was worried you’d do something really dumb in the heat of the moment.”
I respond, “I’d never do something like that. I used that to try to wake him up. To stop me because he actually cares about me, but as usual, it was solely about his wants and needs. That is all that mattered in the end.”
She sighs, looking defeated and sad. “Baby, I know. I was there, remember?”
I nod, feeling a sudden wave of empathy for my mom. “I know, Mom. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you.”
She embraces me again, and this time I hug her back with all my heart. She is not at fault for any of this. She has done everything in her power to make Dad see the truth and understand, but he stubbornly refuses to acknowledge anything that goes against his beliefs.
As my head is lying against her shoulder, I ask, “What did Aunt Scarlett say?”
“She said she’ll take you in, but it’ll have to wait until the school year is over.”
I lean back and frown as my heart feels like it sinks down to my toes. We have 7 months until summer break. 7 months of living under the same roof as him, enduring the fights, disapproving gres, and nasty comments. I’m not sure I can handle it.
“Maybe... maybe I could stay with Kelly Anne until then?” I suggest hesitantly, knowing it's a long shot. “Mrs. Moore said I could stay with them if things get out of hand, and they will if I have to stay here until summer.”
Mom’s face tightens, her brow furrowing as she considers my suggestion. I can see the conflict in her eyes, torn between wanting to protect me and not wanting to let me go. “Baby, I don’t know,” she says slowly. “That's a big ask.”
“It isn’t an ask if they said they’d be happy to have me. What other option do we have? I can’t stay here; you don’t want me to live with Kelly Anne. I dunno…” I pause, thinking hard, then remember something I overheard in css from a girl who was into modeling. “We could always consider another option. I’d have to look up the name, but there’s a boarding school I heard mentioned in css. As a kicker, they also offer csses in etiquette and modeling, and I’d benefit from those.”
I offer a wry smile. “Let’s face it, I may dress girly, but I don’t have a clue on how to present as a proper girl. Sitting, standing, walking, mannerisms, and especially speech. I mean it. Look at Kelly Anne and then me. Other than clothes, we’re day and night.” I pause and look into her eyes for ten or fifteen seconds. “Staying here means risking another violent outburst from Dad. You were there when he tried to hit me st night. Yeah, part of that is my fault, but it’ll happen again if I don’t leave.”
Her shoulders slump, and she rubs her temples, a gesture I’ve seen her make countless times when she’s overwhelmed. “I hear you. I do, and you're right; what happened st night was beyond just unacceptable.” She takes a deep breath, her eyes glistening with tears. “But a boarding school? That’s... I’d rarely see you.”
I feel a pang of guilt, but I push on. “Just how often do you think you’ll see me when I move to Aunt Scarlett’s? That’s beside the point, though. I’ll miss you too, but boarding school is better than me being beaten and Dad ending up in jail.” A cute smile graces my lips for a moment as I parody a modeling pose. “Plus, what mother wouldn’t love to see her daughter own a runway?”
Her lips quirk in amusement before she replies, “You have a point.” She looks away and sighs softly. “Alright… Find out what their name is, and then I’ll work on getting you enrolled.” Her lips quirk again as her eyes light up. “A model, huh?”
I shake my head and ugh. “Probably not, but maybe they can make me as graceful as one.”
She shrugs. “We’ll see… In the meantime, I’m going to start lunch for us,” she says, then looks pointedly at my outfit. “And I suggest you change into something a little less likely to make your father’s head explode.”
I nod in agreement, but I crack another smile. “Okay, but you have to admit, it’s seriously cute, and I’m hot.”
Mom rolls her eyes but can’t suppress a small smile. “Yes, it’s… really cute, but let’s not push our luck, hmm?”
As she heads to the kitchen, I retreat to my room. I pull open my dresser drawer, fishing out fresh lingerie, then head to my closet and pick out a blouse and a cute skirt. As I change, my mind wanders to what life at a boarding school might be like. It has to be better than my school here. No one will know me, and there, I’ll just be another girl.
Smiling at the thought, I sit down at my computer desk and open up my browser to begin looking for the name of the school. Happily, it’s as easy as searching for them nearby, and only two schools come up. One just provides etiquette csses, while the other is the boarding school, Starlight Girls Academy. According to the listing, they have high academic standards, and several of their alumni have become well-known models; a few of them were discovered while still attending the academy. I’m not too interested in becoming a model, but I’d love to be as graceful and poised as one.
This will do nicely. The only problems I foresee are my school records and that I’m listed as a boy on my birth certificate. We’ll have to get my name legally changed and a new birth certificate before we can enroll me. Thankfully, from what I’ve read about it, they’ve streamlined the process. Yet more tasks to add to the list of things we need to do.
I’m jolted from my thoughts by the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. My heart rate picks up as I run to the window to see Dad has parked haphazardly and is shuffling to the door.
“Perfect. He’s drunk,” I mutter as I quickly walk over and lock my door.
The front door sms, and I hear a thud as Dad stumbles into a wall. Followed by his plodding footsteps in the foyer. My stomach tightens as his slurred voice carries through the house. “Where’s that idiotic boy of mine? I need to talk to him!”
Though I cringe at his use of the word ‘boy,’ I press my ear to the door, listening intently. Mom's calm voice responds, “Your daughter is in her bedroom. Sit down; I'll get you some coffee and something to eat. You need it.”
There’s a moment of silence, then Dad's voice booms again. “HE! Not she! He is not a goddamn girl; get that through your head! What the fuck is wrong with both of you?!”
I flinch again as my heart climbs into my throat and does its best to choke the life out of me. This is going to be bad, like, really bad. The sound of heavy footsteps approaches my room, and I back away from the door, trembling and looking for a way to escape.
“Open this door right now!” He bellows, pounding on it. Then the doorknob rattles as he tries to open it.
“Please, leave her alone,” Mom pleads, her voice strained. “You’re drunk. You can talk to her when you’ve sobered up.”
“There's nothing to talk about!” Dad roars. “He’s my boy and not one of those hippy-dippy sissies!”
My eyes widen in fear as he throws himself against my door, and it starts to splinter. Desperately, I look around again and spot the emergency fire escape dder. I run over, throw open the bay window, rip open the package, and toss the dder over the sill as I hook it, then immediately scramble down it and run to Kelly Anne’s as if the hounds of hell were nipping at my heels.
I pound on her door as if my life depends on it, and a moment ter, Mrs. Moore opens it. She takes one look at my terrified expression and pulls me inside. She locks the door behind me and pulls me into a tight hug.
“Oh, sweetie, what’s going on?” She asks, her voice filled with concern.
I can barely speak, but I manage to choke out, “Dad... he... he’s drunk… and acting… crazy.”
She guides me to the living room couch, keeping an arm around my shoulders. “You’re safe now. Take some deep breaths and try to settle down.” She looks over her shoulder and calls out, “David!”
It takes a few seconds, but Mr. Moore comes into the living room. “I’m working. What’s up?” Then he sees me, and his eyes widen in concern. “Is she alright?”
Mrs. Moore shakes her head, her brow furrowed with worry. “It’s her father again. He’s drunk and acting out. Someone needs to check on Emma.”
He nods solemnly, his gaze never leaving mine. “I’ll call the police and then go check on her.”
He walks away, pulling out his phone, leaving me in the comforting embrace of Mrs. Moore. The warmth is a welcome repcement for the stark terror that had been coursing through my veins moments ago.
As I try to regain my composure, she asks. “What happened?”
Between shaky breaths, I rete an abbreviated version of what happened. She listens intently, her grip on my hand tightening slightly as I do. When I finish, she sighs heavily and strokes my hair. “I’m so sorry, darling,” she whispers. “You needn’t worry, David, and I won’t allow anything to happen to you.”
I nod as I rest my head against her shoulder, feeling a bit of the tension in my body ease. As the minutes tick by, Mr. Moore comes back into the room, his expression tight. “The police are on their way, and I’m going over to check on your mom now. Neither of you is to leave this house until I return.”
Mrs. Moore nods. “Be careful, David.”
After he leaves, I feel a fresh wave of panic wash over me. Mr. Moore is rger than him, but my dad isn’t a small man. “What if my dad hurts him?” I ask, my voice trembling.
Mrs. Moore squeezes my hand and smiles reassuringly. “Honey, I’m more worried about David accidentally hurting your father. He’s more than capable of handling himself, alright?”
We sit in tense silence, and every little sound makes me jump. It feels like hours, but according to the clock on the wall, it’s only been about ten minutes when Mr. Moore comes back, followed by a policewoman. My heart leaps into my throat as I see them enter. Mr. Moore is frowning, but he doesn't appear to be injured.
The policewoman walks directly to me, then kneels down. “Hello, I’m Officer Martinez,” she says, her voice calm and gentle yet professional. “Are you alright?”
I nod, my mouth suddenly dry. “Y-yes, ma’am.”
“What’s your name?”
“Jackie.”
“Okay, Jackie, can you tell me what happened?”
I swallow hard, my eyes darting between Officer Martinez and the Moores. Mrs. Moore gives me an encouraging nod, her hand still firmly grasping mine. “Is my mom okay?”
She nods. “She’s upset, but she’s just fine.”
“Good,” I say, my voice cracking. I clear my throat before continuing. “I was in my room when my dad came home drunk and began shouting again. I... uh, I’m trans. I finally came out to my parents a couple of days ago, and that’s what this is about.”
She nods, her pen pausing over her notepad. “What happened next?”
“My mom tried to calm him down, but he wouldn’t, and then he tried to break into my bedroom. I used the emergency dder to get out and ran over here because I was afraid he was going to hurt me.”
Officer Martinez nods, jotting down notes. “You did the right thing. Can you tell me if your father has ever been physically abusive before?”
I hesitate as my stomach churns. Finally, I nod slightly. “He tried to punch me yesterday, but I was able to dodge, but that’s the only time he’s ever done anything like that.”
Her expression remains neutral, but I notice a slight tightening around her eyes. She writes something down before looking back at me. “Thank you.”
“What’s going to happen?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
She stands up, tucking her notepad away. “Your father has been arrested. He’ll be held overnight to cool off and sober up, and then he’ll see a judge in the morning for a bail hearing.”
I close my eyes and breathe, “So he’ll be back tomorrow and ten times more pissed off.” I open my eyes and continue. “Great, that’s just awesome,” I mutter sarcastically.
She shakes her head and replies, “That’s unlikely. When family violence is involved, the judge normally issues a no-contact order as a condition for bail, so he’ll have to find a pce to stay until a judge allows him to return.”
“And how long will that be?”
She shrugs. "Two weeks, a month maybe. It all depends on the courts and how backed up they are. In the meantime, if you see him hanging around, then call us. We’ll take him in, and they’ll hold him for vioting his bail conditions.” She pces a hand on my shoulder. “Jackie, I’m sorry we can’t do more, but for now, you’re safe.”
