“Mom, are you home?” I called out as I walked through the front door and into the entryway.

  “Upstairs in the kitchen, honey.”

  After taking off my jacket and stowing it in the closet, I climbed the half-stairs to the upper level. My five-year-old sister Janie was eating a snack at the kitchen table, as Mom was scrubbing some dishes in the sink. “We don’t have anything going on tomorrow, do we?” I asked.

  “Mmm…no, surprisingly,” replied Mom. “Seems pretty rare that there isn’t something going on on the weekends these days.” She had a point; with cheerleading and my circle of girlfriends, not to mention my monthly catalog photo shoots and medical research check-ins, I had a busier life than I had during Matthew’s timeline. I never really got out much as Matthew during my teenage years, and mostly stayed at home playing video games. Yet another improvement that my life as a girl has been so far.

  “A friend of mine is having a birthday party at Cheap Skate, the roller skate rink, and they invited me to go tomorrow.”

  Mom turned from the sink, pulling off a yellow rubber glove. “It should be fine. Whose birthday is it? It can’t be Erin’s; hers was last week.”

  I swallowed. “Oh, it’s just a friend from school.”

  Mom looked at me, expecting me to continue speaking. “Does this friend have a name?”

  “Um, Jake. Jake Mason.”

  Mom’s eyebrows perked up. “Oh. It’s a boy!”

  I grimaced. “It’s not a big deal. I went to plenty of boy’s parties before.”

  “Well, yes. But that was before…well, before anyone knew you were a girl. Tell me about this Jake Mason.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I know what you’re thinking, but no. He’s just a friend. I don’t like him or anything! That would be weird!”

  Mom considered for a moment. “It’s wouldn’t be weird if you liked a boy, Maya. It would be perfectly normal for a girl like you to like a boy.”

  I flinched, not able to say why I was actually uncomfortable with the implication of liking a boy. “Well, I was a boy before, right? Nobody here knows except for us. So if I liked him – which I don’t! – it would be weird.”

  Janie, who by now had turned in her chair and was listening to our conversation, spoke up. “You’re not a boy, Maya.”

  I glanced over at my little sister. When I woke up at age ten in a female body, Janie had been practically a baby. In this timeline, she only knew me as Maya. Matthew didn’t exist save in the memories of the rest of my family, and even then only until my tenth birthday. He also existed in my lifetime of memories I had as him from the future. As far as the world was concerned, I was and will always be Maya, and the only one who knew otherwise was me.

  “She’s right, Maya,” continued Mom. “You’re a girl, and whether you like him or not it is perfectly fine.”

  “Good. Because I don’t like him that way.”

  Mom waved me off. “Fine, fine. So tell me about him.”

  “We’re school friends. He’s on the football team, but he is better at basketball. He’s quiet, and he likes some of the same music as me. He’s also not an idiot like most of the boys at school.”

  “I see, I see,” nodded Mom, still with a slight smile on her lips which I ignored. “Well, give me his phone number and I’ll call his mother to make arrangements.”

  I scribbled it down on a post-it note and handed it to Mom. “He also wants me to bring my guitar.”

  Mom took the post-it. “Your guitar?”

  “He said I didn’t have to get him a present, he just wanted to hear me play a song.”

  Mom gasped. “Oh my gosh, that is so adorable!”

  I growled, and stomped downstairs to my room.

  ***

  The next day Mom arranged to drop me off at Jake’s house, which was about halfway between our house and the roller skating rink. I sat in the passenger seat, trying to avoid Mom’s prying for more details about Jake. I pointedly kept my eyes out the window. My guitar and my portable amp were on the backseat as we drove through the early November cold outside. We pulled into the driveway of the address Jake’s mother gave us, and when I got out Mom did as well.

  “What are you doing, Mom?”

  She smiled innocently. “Oh, I’m just going to help you haul your amp to the door. It’s no trouble.”

  I sighed, and I went into the back seat to sling the guitar over my shoulder. Mom had already carried my amp to the front door and rang it. The very least she could have done if she was pretending to help me carry stuff was to carry the heavy stuff. I joined Mom at the front door, just as a tall blonde-haired woman answered the door.

  “Ah, you must be Mrs. Peterson!” she glanced over at me, with a similar smirk to the one Mom was wearing. “And you must be Maya. Please, come in from the cold!”

  “Thank you,” accepted Mom as we stepped inside. “And please, call me Donna.”

  “And please, Donna, call me Carol. Jake, honey!” she called behind her. “Your friend Maya is here!”

  “Hold on Mom, the race isn’t done yet,” called a voice from the other room.

  Carol took my coat to hang in the closet. “Go ahead Maya, Jake’s in the next room. Donna, would you like a cup of coffee?”

  Still embarrassed, I hoisted my guitar case and ducked into the living room, seeing Jake sitting on the floor engrossed in a game of Super Mario Kart. I knew the race track he was on, and he was nearing the finish line. I set my gear off to the side just as Jake won the match and the victory music played.

  “Hey, Maya,” said Jake, finally taking note of me. “Cool, you actually brought the guitar with you!”

  “I did,” I replied shyly. “Happy birthday!”

  “Thanks,” he nodded. “Have you ever played Mario Kart?”

  Technically, Maya hadn’t played many video games. Since I had been shunted back in time, I hadn’t really felt the need to play all of the games that I spent most of my youth playing in my previous timeline. But I had memories of playing Mario Kart for decades, even if that was mathematically impossible in 1994.

  “A little,” I answered modestly.

  “Here,” he said, handing me a controller. “You can be player one. I’m pretty good at this game, so I can show you how to play. We’ve got a while before the guys get here.”

  I nonchalantly took the controller as Jake explained which buttons did what. I was a little offended that he assumed I couldn’t play, but I played it off. Well, until the race started. I had no mercy, and I wiped the floor with him. I played innocent of course, and happily cheered when I won the third race in a row. I sensed that he was slightly flustered that I was pretty consistently beating him, but he also seemed oddly impressed. Any other boy probably would have been ticked off that a girl was annihilating him.

  “Dang, Maya, you’re pretty good! You sure you’ve only played a bit?”

  “Well, I don’t play much these days.” At least it was partially true.

  “Ha, I bet you could –” he was interrupted by some loud rapping on the front door, followed by the footsteps of Jake’s mother to answer it. “Ah,” said Jake, “my cousins are here.”

  After some bustle in the entry way, three boys entered the living room, each carrying a gift. Two of them I didn’t recognize, since they seemed to be a year or two younger than me, but the third I recognized as Pete Meyers, a student in my grade. I hated Pete; in Matthew’s timeline he was my bully and he looked exactly the way I remembered him as a kid. In my new timeline, he was an annoyance. He would occasionally try to talk to me, but I knew what a cretin he was and rarely responded. It was weird enough having my former tormentor trying to make nice with me.

  “Happy Birthday, coz,” greeted Pete as we went in for a high five with Jake. I had slipped past me that Jake and Pete were cousins. “Hey, Maya,” Pete waved coolly, “what are you doing here?”

  “Jake invited me yester--” I started.

  However, Pete had already moved on to the Nintendo. “Ah! You guys are playing Mario Kart? I’m the best at this. You wanna race me, Maya? I’ll give you a head start.”

  I shot a grin at Jake, who smirked back at me. “Sure, Pete. But go easy on me; I’m just learning how to play.”

  After a couple of merciless races, Pete was becoming visibly tense. A half-dozen well-launched turtle shells will do that to you. Halfway through our third rematch, which Pete demanded, Pete crashed into the lava for the second time, much to the amusement of Jake and his cousins. Frustrated, Pete stood up and slapped the power switch on the Nintendo.

  “Hey, why’d you do that?” the youngest cousin asked.

  Pete huffed. “Something’s wrong with my controller. Besides, I wanna play something else.”

  Pete and the other cousins dug into the cabinet of video game cartridges, unceremoniously edging me out of the way. A few minutes later they had found a new game and were engrossed in it as I was relegated to the couch. It occurred to me that this was the first time I had been in a group of boys since I was discovered to be female. I knew what it was like being a boy in a group of boys, how they would rag on each other and automatically form hierarchies. I also knew that as a girl I would automatically rank lowest, even below boys who were two years younger than me.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  At least Jake sat on the couch with me while the other boys bickered over their new game. I always appreciated that Jake treated me as just a friend. I liked having a circle of girlfriends; it was a completely alien yet fulfilling concept to me. I felt so much closer to them than I did my male friends when I was Matthew. Part of me missed being “one of the guys” though, simply sitting in a room and playing video games together without the drama that girls tend to throw out. I suppose that’s why I liked Jake; he wasn’t a girl, and didn’t look down on me because I was a girl.

  Our moms eventually poked their heads in the door, announcing it was time to head out. Mom pulled me aside to make sure I was fine heading out with a bunch of boys, and I assured her I was. She winked at me to have a good time and told me she’d pick me up later. After she left, we put on our coats and loaded into Mrs. Mason’s red minivan. She let me sit in front with her as the boys roughed around in the back, and I noted resigned tolerance on her part as they did. To his credit, Jake was sitting quietly in the middle seat.

  I couldn’t remember from my previous timeline if Cheap Skate survived COVID in the 2020s, but I remembered the classic entrance with the cartoon raccoon sign over the door and the garish colors. It was just as I remembered it from Matthew’s childhood, right back in its glory days of the early 90s. Everything was there from the flashing lights, the blue carpeting, and the noises from the arcade. There were plenty of people here today, and we waited in line to pay the admission and to pick out our skates from the rental area. The attendant handed everyone in our group a faded brown pair, with me receiving a pink pair. For a brief moment I thought I was going to be mocked by the boys, before remembering that they wouldn’t care if a girl wore pink skates.

  Jake, Pete, and the cousins ran off into the arcade, while I hung back to put on my skates. Once they were laced, I attempted to stand up and immediately crashed back onto the bench. I think I was focused so much on the nervousness of Jake and the boys that I had forgotten something crucial; I was terrible at skating. What’s more, despite dance lessons and cheerleading, my balance was unusually bad these days. It must have been the growth spurt of recent months; I was clumsier than ever!

  It was a struggle to get to my feet, but I was able to stand and make giant, unsteady steps on the carpet. Thank god I had decided to wear jeans today, because I nearly crashed to the ground before grabbing the wall. I awkwardly held the wall as I moved closer to the rink edge, feeling horribly embarrassed. I just couldn’t catch my balance for my life! I attempted to move from the wall to one of the benches next to the rink, before landing flat on my face. I heard a few kids snicker as I crawled the rest of the way and plopped down onto the bench.

  I suddenly felt very alone, questioning my logic of coming to a roller skating rink and not being able to actually skate. What’s more, I didn’t know anyone here since the boys ran off somewhere and Mrs. Mason was in line at the snack area. I glumly sat with my chin in my hands, watching people doing laps on the skating floor and wishing I hadn’t accepted Jake’s invitation. I knew I shouldn’t have, but I didn’t want to disappoint him. Plus he was so cute when he asked. Damnit, don’t think like that!

  “You’re not skating, Maya?” asked a voice from behind me. It was Mrs. Mason.

  I sat up quickly. “Oh, I…don’t really know how to skate.”

  “Oh dear, you poor thing. Hold on, where is that son of mine? Stay right here.” Not that I had a choice. A second later she marched back dragging Jake from the arcade, his skates still in his hands. “Jake, stay with your friend! You invited her, so don’t go running off with Pete and leaving her alone!”

  “Sorry, Mom. Sorry, Maya,” mumbled Jake as he sat to lace up his skates.

  “Now have fun,” said Mrs. Mason as she stood up. “I have to go talk to the desk and get the pizza ordered. I’ll see you later!”

  I leaned in as he finished his right laces. “Didn’t mean for you to get you in trouble with your Mom,” I offered. “I’m just not very good at skating.”

  “No, she’s right. I didn’t mean to ditch you.” He gave me a little smirk. “I guess you can lap me in Mario Kart, but not on a skating track.”

  I gave him a twisted smile. “Guess not.”

  “Here, take my hand,” he said as he effortlessly stood up in his skates.

  For the first time, I took a boy’s hand in mine and seemed to float up to my feet. I gave an automatic squeeze, and just as I almost lost my balance he took my other hand to help steady me. I wobbled as I tried to steady myself, with Jake holding my hands and letting me use him for balance. Encouraging me, he skated backwards as I skated forward, letting me lurch forward. We weaved a little bit on an empty section of carpet, practicing in little laps until I managed to get my bearings.

  Jake released my hands once it looked like I was stable. I had about ten seconds of steadiness before I began wobbling, and he quickly took my right hand again. Immediately, I caught my balance and gave a weak smile to Jake, who gave me one in return. We did a few more circles on the carpet, his hand in mine, before we paused.

  “Ready to try the rink?” Jake asked.

  I took a deep breath. “Sure. Not too fast, though.”

  He guided me to the edge of the rink, dodging various people coming and going from the neon lights dancing around. I stepped onto the smooth floor, with Jake keeping firm in my hand, and led me out. True to his word, he took it slow and I focused on keeping my balance as he pulled me along. Eventually I was able to shift my feet and stand up straight, and after a few laps around the rink I was gliding along with him.

  He kept my hand in his as we skated together, and though ordinarily I would have been mortified that I was holding hands with a boy in public, no one thought anything of it. It was then that I realized that I didn’t just feel like one of the guys with Jake; I distinctly felt more like a girl than ever. It was intoxicating to the point that I forgot to lose my balance as we circled the rink to the blasting pop music and neon lights.

  Some time later we saw Jake’s mom wave us off the floor because dinner had been set up. We rolled off the rink together, with Jake helping me step back up onto the carpet because my head was in the clouds. Pete and the cousins, hands full of arcade tickets, saw Jake with my hand and laughed at him. Jake, however, simply shrugged as we skated across the carpet to the food tables.

  The pizza was mediocre, and soon the table was loud and obnoxious, save for me who quietly nibbled on the oily mess of cheese being fed to me. Once the meal was devoured, we returned to the skating rink, though by now I was doing okay and I simply skated next to Jake. Part of me wished that we were still holding hands, but Jake seemed self-conscious about it and I had to admonish myself for enjoying it.

  Later, we piled back into the minivan in the late afternoon to return to Jake’s house. When we got back, Mrs. Mason pulled out an ice cream cake from the freezer and we sang happy birthday to Jake, with Pete obnoxiously going off-key. After scarfing down the cake, Jake opened a few presents while Mrs. Mason dealt with the inevitable headache that comes with a bunch of boys on a sugar buzz. It wasn’t too long before there was a knock on the door, with Pete’s mother arriving to take the cousins all home. As the boys told each other goodbye, it was a relief when the house was quiet again.

  “Hey Maya,” said Jake once his cousins were on the road, “do you want to play that song? I’m dying to hear that guitar of yours.”

  “Sure!” I said, happy to be alone with Jake, except for his mom of course. We scampered into the living room where my guitar was still sitting, and I pulled out my amp to find an electric socket to plug into. Once I did, I removed the guitar from my case and plucked the strings. I had tuned it before I left home, and it was still ready. Jake sat on the couch, watching earnestly as I set up.

  “Any requests?” I asked Jake as I pulled the guitar strap over my shoulder.

  Jake leaned back. “I dunno, something cool I guess!”

  I pondered for a moment and scratched my chin. I grinned as I decided on what to play, and wordlessly took the neck of the guitar. With a flick of the wrist, I decided to shred a metal version of the Super Mario theme song.

  I usually played in my room with a pair of headphones so as not to disturb the house, so it was a bit different to play on my amp, let alone with an audience. Jake was transfixed; he probably didn’t expect that I was able to improvise the Mario theme, never mind that it was a heavy metal version of it. It was a deceptively difficult song to play, but logic couldn't account for the fingering experience I had and I nailed every chord. I ended with a final vibration on the ending notes of the victory theme, and it took a moment before Jake closed his mouth and spoke.

  “That…that was awesome, Maya! You’re like, awesome!” he sputtered.

  I smirked modestly, fiddling with the knobs. “Thanks, Jake.”

  He requested a few more songs, and I pretty much played all of the ones I could remember. With a metal edge, of course. I even saw Mrs. Mason peek in from the hallway, though she didn’t interrupt. Jake was in awe, and I suppose I was better than I gave myself credit for. After all, I had several years of practice from my old timeline. Much more than a thirteen-year-old could possibly have.

  I finished one last song, and noticed that Mom had joined Mrs. Mason in watching my little show. I had been so engrossed in playing that I hadn’t noticed she had arrived to pick me up.

  “Donna,” piped Mrs. Mason, “you have quite a talented daughter!”

  “I certainly do,” smiled Mom. “Are you ready to go, sweetie?”

  “Sure, Mom,” I said as I unslung my guitar and started packing it back up. Jake helped me gather up my amp, chattering excitedly and gushing about me playing. Our moms were quietly chatting in the hallway, and I had a fairly shrewd idea of what they were discussing. Jake offered to carry my stuff to the car after I put on my coat and shoes, and we walked out together so that I could open the door for him. He set my guitar in the back seat, and shut the door after me. We stood for a moment in the chilly air, awkwardly facing each other.

  “Thanks for coming, Maya. You’re…really good at playing!”

  I blushed, looking away with my hands together. “Thanks, Jake. I had a fun time.”

  “So did I,” Jake said with his trademark wide smile.

  There was another smattering of moments, where I merely looked up at him and his wide grin started to shrink into an awkward smile. He leaned it, for a mere millisecond, and I think my heart skipped a bit. Oh no, I thought to myself, please don’t do what I think you will. Even though every impulse in my body wanted it.

  Thankfully, Jake cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, I guess I had better go in. Your mom’s coming this way. See you at school on Monday!”

  Thank god the moment passed; the last thing I wanted was to end the day with an awkward kiss. Well, maybe not the last thing I wanted, but I knew it shouldn’t happen for several reasons. Jake shuffled past me, and I opened the passenger door to let myself in as Mom got into the driver’s side. Jake and his mom waved to us as we pulled out of the driveway.

  “So,” pried Mom as we drove home, “did you have a good time?”

  “Uh huh,” I replied, gazing out the window.

  “Jake seemed like a very nice boy.”

  “Yeah.”

  “It was nice of him to help you with skating.”

  “Mm hmm.” I only really offered Mom monosyllabic answers, and eventually Mom quit. She still had that little smile of hers.

  I was lost in thought. It had been a fun day, for the most part. Well, the parts with Jake, of course. I don’t think I had ever had quite an experience like that, simply spending time alone – well, mostly alone – with a boy who made me feel this way. I liked the way he looked at me, and how it made me feel when he smiled. Let alone how it felt when he squeezed my hand; I had to force myself to not sigh dreamily just thinking about it.

  The other part of me told me it wasn’t right. I had over forty years of memories in my thirteen-year-old head, and I knew it was wrong to play around like this, no matter how innocent it was. I may be a girl, but I have too many adult mentalities to justify even considering any interactions like this with a boy like Jake. It wasn’t right, the voice kept repeating at me, and my stomach knotted.

  It’s fine, said a softer voice which bubbled out from another corner of my brain. We’re a girl, and he’s a boy. We aren’t doing anything illicit, why can’t we just enjoy ourselves? The first voice stopped in its tracks, as if considering. It was true; I had no desire to do anything more than just spend time with him. We were kids, and too young for anything my adult memories could come up with. And if there wasn't going to be anything inappropriate, I started thinking about what it would be like with Jake as a boyfriend, like all of my friends at school giggled about. We could hold hands and just like each other. We wouldn’t even have to kiss – maybe some day, but not any time soon.

  I resolved myself, and my doubting voice got a little quieter. I needed to accept that going forward that I was a girl, and girls had feelings about boys. I would need to consolidate my feelings with my biology, and that could simply be done by abstaining from anything physical. If I wanted to indulge physically in private…well, that’s private. But beyond that, I had to admit, I really liked Jake. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t at least be able to hold his hand every once in a while.

  I shook my head. My god, look at me, thinking about a boy. I really am a girl, aren’t I?