It was January of 1993, and it was the first school day back from winter break. Snow blanketed the road as I stood on the corner waiting for the school bus. It was chilly and gloomy, and I stood in my maroon coat with my stocking-clad legs shivering. I know I shouldn’t have worn a skirt like I usually did when it was this cold out, but it was a force of habit. Oddly enough, I had been wearing skirts so often that I always felt chaffed when I tried to put on jeans. I had no idea how comfortable skirts were until I became a girl, and it was almost worth the biting cold that traveled up my legs.

  “Hey, Maya!” my friend Erin shouted as she approached the bus stop with her older brother in tow.

  I waved back.

  “Hey Erin. Ready for school?”

  “Um, no,” she replied as we shared a laugh. “I was hoping that school was going to be cancelled.”

  “No luck,” I said sadly. We began our usual chattering before the bus turned a corner and rumbled towards us through the snow. Erin and I grabbed a seat together and we were thankful that the heat was on. We brushed off flakes of snow from our laps as the bus trudged along to Hoover Middle School.

  “Do you want to come over after school?” I asked her. “We could watch TV or something.”

  “I can’t,” she replied. “Mom and I are going to the dance shop to pick up my outfit for next week.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know you were starting classes again so soon.”

  “Yeah, they’re starting early for some reason.” Erin gave me a little poke. “You know, you should ask your mom if you can join the class. It’s really fun!”

  I rolled my eyes. “I wouldn’t be very good. I’ve never done dance before.” This wasn’t the first time that Erin tried to convince me to join her class. Maybe it was a little residual discomfort from my previous life as Matthew about dancing, but I wasn’t really that interested. I was more into my electric guitar these days.

  Today, however, Erin didn’t let it go. “Oh, you should totally come to my class! I know you don’t think you’d be good, but we could practice together. Come on, ask your Mom, it’s really fun.”

  I sighed. In all honesty, I had been looking for some way to keep myself busy. Reliving my childhood as a girl due to some time-travelling fluke got kind of boring at times, and trying out things I hadn’t done as Matthew was a good way to stave off the boredom. I also knew that Erin was never going to stop pestering me; she was my absolute bestie and dance class was one of the few times we weren’t glued together.

  I threw up my hands. “Okay. Maybe I can ask my mom. But only because you won’t stop asking me!”

  Erin laughed. “Oh Maya, I know you’ll like it. Trust me!”

  As expected, Mom was thrilled when I asked if I could join the class. It seemed like every time I showed interest in girl-stuff Mom was always enthusiastic about it. In my previous life as Matthew I hardly joined any sort of club or activity, but as Maya I seemed to be trying things left and right. Mom called the dance studio the next day to register me, and asked Mrs. Burgess and Erin what I should wear.

  We bought the requisite black leotard and white tights that weekend, along with a black wrap skirt to go with it. I had worn tights before, but when I tried on the outfit I loved how it felt on me. It was like a second skin, and I really enjoyed the freedom of movement it allowed me. In fact, in the days leading up to the first class I would go into my room and strip down just to put on my leotard and tights. It just felt…exciting to wear.

  The afternoon before my first class was just like that. I had just gotten home from school and I was wearing my outfit and twirling around a little to watch my skirt float around in the mirror. I was a little shy about wearing it outside of my room, but since I was the only one home I decided to go upstairs into the kitchen and grab a snack without changing. I was sort of prancing around, making my skirt twirl, while I dug into the cabinets to get some crackers. It was while I was cutting squares of cheese that Tim came home from school, which I didn’t really register until he came into the kitchen and saw me.

  “Hey Tim,” I said as I turned to look at him, and he stood there with an odd look on his face. I kind of felt weird, and reflexively adjusted the straps of my leotard. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

  Tim frowned. “Why are you wearing that,” he asked, with a tinge of anger in his voice.

  I looked down at myself. “I’m joining a dance class with Erin, and this is just –”

  “Why are you being such a girl!?” Tim interjected. “You never did girly stuff before, and now you’re wearing dresses and acting all girly and stuff!”

  “Tim, what do you –”

  “You used to be my brother!” he shouted, with tears suddenly forming in his eyes. “We used to do fun stuff together, but now that you’re a girl you don’t want to do anything fun! And I’m just by myself now and the only boy! And Mom and Dad always let you do whatever you want, but all you want is stupid girl stuff that you never did before!”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  I was a little stunned. Words didn’t really form as I stood there, toying with my skirt and rubbing my ankle with the other foot awkwardly. I felt sort of exposed and weird, especially dressed the way I was.

  Tim frowned aggressively, with little tears running down his cheeks. “I miss when you were my brother,” he said finally, and stomped over to the couch to sit down, hunched over.

  Setting down the cheese slicer, I walked into the living room and sat next to him. His head was hung low and I set my hands in my lap. I twisted my lips, trying to think of what to say before I finally said something.

  “I dunno, Tim,” I started, “I didn’t want this to happen. It’s like, one day everything changed, and now I’m a girl. I was angry at first, and was kind of sad for a while when it all started.”

  Tim nodded, still staring at the floor. “Yeah, it was kind of weird. You were my brother and then you weren’t.”

  I leaned back, pursing my lips in a sort of frown. “I guess there was a certain point where I decided not to fight it, and if I had to be a girl, well, I just did it.” I tilted my head towards him. “I thought you liked being the only boy.”

  Tim shrugged. “You still get everything you want, and I don’t get anything. Mom and Dad still like you more than me, especially now that you’re a girl.”

  I exhaled loudly. “Tim, they don’t ‘like me more’ or anything like that. They have been trying to help me with all of this change, and I think they felt guilty or something.” I lightly poked his arm. “Besides, you may not know but it’s been really hard adjusting to being a girl. I guess I’m at the point where I think it’s fun.”

  Tim snorted. “I don’t know how you find all that stuff fun. You never wanted to do dance or make-up and stuff before.”

  I laughed. “I didn’t think it was fun at all before. But, I don’t know, I tried it and I liked it. Maybe I like being a little girly after all.”

  “I don’t get it at all,” Tim asserted. “I would never like doing girl stuff.”

  “Well, that’s why you’re not a girl.”

  “I guess.” Tim paused for a moment. “I do miss having you as my brother, though.”

  I nodded. “I guess there are times I miss being a boy. But hey, I’m still me. Matthew didn’t die or anything, he’s still up here,” I said, poking my forehead. “Maybe I’m not your brother, but at least I’m still your sister.”

  “I hope you’re not going to say you still love me or something dumb like that.”

  I stuck out my tongue and shoved him. “Heck no. I may be a girl, but I can still take you out!”

  Tim chuckled and shoved me back. We laughed together again, and after a few minutes we decided to go downstairs and fire up the Super Nintendo we got for Christmas. It was just like we always did, each with a controller and trash talking the other like we did when we were brothers. Only difference is, well, I was wearing tights. That’s what we did until Mom and Dad got home, and I didn’t tell either of them about Tim’s blowout as they drove me to the dance studio.

  The studio itself was simple, with a wood floor and a large set of mirrors along the wall. Erin was already there in an outfit that matched mine, and there were about a dozen other girls getting ready. I wasn’t really sure what I was supposed to do, so Erin showed me how she stretched before a class and we did it together. I was surprised to find that I was very limber; I was able to touch my toes easily, something that Matthew hadn’t done for most of his life! I guess I had never tried as Maya.

  Most of the girls in the class, like Erin, had been in the class for some time, but some were new like I was. The teacher was a woman in her 20s with a pixie hair cut, and she was very spritely and energetic. She had us line up in front of the mirror where she guided us through some stretches. While I was more flexible than I thought I would be, everyone else seemed even more flexible than I was.

  Next, we were guided through something called traveling steps. I hadn’t even considered that there would be a correct way to walk while dancing. The teacher showed us ways to move across the floor called a chasse and how to pivot. She had us mimic her movements, and this part of the lesson was especially stressful. Erin and the more advanced students moved fluidly, but when it was my turn I stepped stiffly and mixed up my left and right. It didn’t help that the mirror reflected each awkward movement.

  We ended with an eight-step routine, and while it looked simple enough I had the same issues as before. I knew what the steps were, but I was in my head so much that I moved stilted and off-rhythm. By the end of class I was sweating a surprising amount, though I was still frustrated. The teacher took me aside to encourage me, which I was nice but I still feel like I wasn’t any good.

  “Don’t worry about it, Maya,” consoled Erin as we rode in the back of her mother’s car home. “When it was my first class it was tough too.”

  I appreciated what Erin was doing, but it was still raw. I just wish that I had done half as well as the other girls. Erin’s mother dropped me off at my house, and Mon was sitting in the TV room. She asked me how it was, and I mumbled, “fine” before I went downstairs to my room.

  Tim was still on the Nintendo right where I left him before my class. “How was your thing?” He asked as he paused the game.

  “It’s harder than it looks. Maybe I’m not cut out for dance.”

  Tim cocked his head. “You shouldn’t give up, Maya. No one’s good on their first day. You just have to keep going.”

  I wasn’t expecting a pep talk from my eight-year-old brother. I had to admit, he was right. It was only the first day, after all, and I shouldn’t give up so easily. Besides, if I was going to stay fit, then dance was the best option. I had plans after all.

  “Thanks, Tim. I won’t quit.”

  Tim turned his attention back to the game. “You can play with me if you want.”

  “Fine, but don’t cry when I beat you!”

  “Ha! I never quit!”

  True to his word, he didn’t quit, despite losing a dozen times. I wasn’t going to either.