Almost Perfect - Brian Katcher [51]
Sage shot me her full-force wiry smile. I think she was as touched that I’d called her a girl as I was that she’d called my trailer a house.
“Then can we go in there?” She pointed to the shed.
The outbuilding was wooden, and not too cold inside. I sat on an oil drum. Sage perched on my weight bench. She removed her jacket, revealing her bare, freckled arms. I’d never noticed how well defined her biceps were. Did they look like a man’s arms, or the arms of a girl who was in excellent shape? It was the same with the bulges in the front of her tight sweater. They looked real but must have been a padded bra or something.
“Sage, when did you tell your dad that I was ‘in the know’?” Even after our heart-to-heart, I still couldn’t come right out and say you’re secretly a boy.
“Right after the basketball game. Rob accidentally let it slip that I’d been out with a guy. Dad was all ready to yank me out of school, so I lied and told him that you knew. That we were just friends.”
“But I didn’t know!” I sniped. “And your dad thinks we were doing more than hanging out.”
Sage glowered, and for a second I thought she was irritated with me. Then she spoke.
“Dad always tries to think the worst about me whenever possible. Tammi spent New Year’s Eve alone with Rob, and that was okay. But I go for a ride with you, and he calls me a …” She didn’t speak for a while. “It’s always been like that. For the past four years, it’s like everything I do is about gender issues. When I first told him—” She suddenly stopped. “Sorry. Let’s talk about something else.”
I could have changed the subject. Told Sage about the time Laura had locked me in this shed when I was eight. Or speculated about what Tim and Dawn had been doing after the comedy show. But that would have been kind of chickenshit of me. Sage wanted to talk about her family problems. Either I could let her know I didn’t want to hear about them, or I could listen.
“No, you can tell me.” I almost sounded totally sincere.
Sage braced her elbows on her knees and placed her chin in her hands. “Seriously? I don’t want to freak you out.”
“Way too late for that.” I shrugged. “Look, you told me earlier that you hoped I’d understand. Well, I’m trying.”
Sage didn’t smile, but she had such a warm look in her eyes, I had to remind myself that she was a boy. How come real girls never looked at me like that?
“You’ve never met a transgendered person, have you?”
“No.” Growing up in Boyer, I’d also never met a homosexual, a Muslim, a Jew, a Communist, or a New Yorker. Up until this year, people like Sage were just perverts who appeared on talk shows. And now I was friends with one, and she wasn’t even as perverted as Jack.
“I guess it started when Tammi was born. I had just turned three. I was so excited about having a little sister. She was so cute. Mom dressed her up like a little baby doll, in these little pink dresses, and bows, and the most adorable—”
“This is thrilling, Sage, but we’re not talking infant fashion here.”
“Right. So it wasn’t long before I started asking Mom and Dad why I couldn’t wear dresses and be pretty. They thought I was jealous, so they bought me new toys, new clothes. Mostly sports stuff.” She gagged. “But I wasn’t jealous of Tammi. I just wanted to be beautiful like her.” She looked at me. “I didn’t think you’d be so shocked already.”
I realized how surprised I was. “Sorry. I guess I assumed you were a lot older when you decided you wanted to be a girl.”
Sage’s forehead wrinkled. “It wasn’t a decision, Logan. Tammi was what showed me that there was a difference between boys and girls. I realized I was a girl. I told Tammi I was her big sister. Told Mom and Dad that I was going to grow up to be a princess. That didn’t go over well, especially with Dad.”
“I can imagine.” I couldn’t imagine that at all. Mr. Hendricks seemed like the type of guy who’d explode if he caught one of his children smoking or staying out past curfew. Having a son who wanted to be Cinderella? I was surprised he didn’t have a stroke.
“Well, the more