Reegan hated cheerleading. It wasn't so much the tumbling, the cartwheels, the human pyramids, the dance routines that Reegan despised. No, Reegan couldn't stand the miniskirts, the teeny tiny sweater tops that left nothing to the imagination, the perky hairstyles that attempted to tame her wild curls, the pompoms, the glitter that covered her cheeks and eyelids and most of all, the girls. Maybe she was a traitor to her gender, but Reegan preferred to be at least 50 feet away from any and all girls. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what part of the feminine mystique made her cringe but for some strange reason, Reegan felt more comfortable hanging out with her brother and his friends at his all-boys school than practicing rooting for the football team with her fellow cheerleaders.

The question, then, was why Reegan was not only on the cheerleading team, but head cheerleader. Why she was dating the captain of the football team. Why she had been elected to the homecoming court and had gone to prom as a freshman and a sophomore. The easy answer was that she was popular. The actual answer was much more complicated. She needed to fit in. She needed to be popular. She needed to hide. It was so much easier to hide in plain sight than it was to avoid the spotlight. After all, that's what happened to her brother. He tried to be himself and got punished for it. Reegan constantly tried to figure out who was the luckier of the two and almost always chose her brother as the victor.

And so, here Reegan was, at the so-called "big" football game, watching her school's boys lose to the one team who, until that night, had yet to actually win a game that season with the unforeseen strategy of dancing to Beyonce. Her eyes were glued to the slight kicker as he shimmied away his team's losing streak. She watched his teammates hoist him on their shoulders as he produced a princess wave to all of his adoring fans. Reegan couldn't stop the tears beginning to well up in her eyes. She would later tell her teammates that she was upset that their boys lost but she was well aware of the real reason of her sadness. She envied that boy. He was allowed to be himself and his school celebrated because of it. Reegan would have done anything to have switched places with him. Anything.

XXXXXX

More than a week later, Reegan woke up in a hospital bed with a plastic tube down her throat and bandages encompassing her wrists. Without thinking, she yanked the tube out, coughing profusely and feeling like she was about to vomit.

"Reegan?" The girl looked around and saw her brother sitting in a comfy chair with a textbook in his lap. "What are you…nurse!" He rose quickly, allowing the book to fall to the ground.

"Goober," Reegan's voice was all but a croak. "What's going on?"

"Wait, I'll get the nurse."

"No, Blaine! Sit down and tell me what happened!"

Blaine sighed and plopped back down in the chair. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Reegan concentrated. She thought back to her last memory. She was at home cleaning. Wait, no, she was drinking and cleaning. Her parents were away and her brother was at rehearsal. She was supposed to be alone all night. And then she remembered –
"I broke a plate," she said quietly to herself.

"What was that?"

Reegan looked up, looked into her brother's eyes, mirrors of her own, "I broke a plate. I was putting the dishes away and I dropped a plate and I cut my finger when I picked it up and then I thought…" she trailed off, deep in thought.

"Thought what?"

"How easy it would be just to…you know…" Reegan could barely get the words out, "end it. But how did I end up here?"

"Rehearsal was cancelled. I got home just in time, or at least that's what the paramedics said. The doctors said that even if you hadn't, you know, hurt yourself, you drank so much and…mom's Xanax? Really? Well, they said that if I'd gotten there later, you'd still be in this mess." Blaine pulled the chair closer to the bed. "Why, Prez?"

"Why what?"

"Why'd you do it?"

Reegan sighed, "You wouldn't understand. I hardly understand. I just know that I can't do this anymore and I just don't see how to get out."

"Do what? Get out of what? I mean look at you. I would kill to have your life. You strut around school like you're the cock of the walk. Guys fall over each other just to be near you. Mom and Dad probably wish I was more like you."

"That's funny. I would do anything to be more like you."

"What are you talking about?"

Reegan looked at her brother and sighed again. "Goober, what do you want me to say? It was bound to happen sooner or later. Was I planning it? Not consciously, no, but…something was building. I just couldn't…I couldn't be that girl anymore. I was so tired, so tired, so tired of watching how I walked, how I spoke, how I reacted, so afraid that people would know I was living a lie. And what if they found out? What would happen to me? Where would I go? I wouldn't be able to stay there, subjected to their torment, disapproving eyes examining. We learned that the hard way, didn't we?"

Blaine shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Goober, do you have any idea how much I envy you? You were able to escape and you're, you're flourishing. Guys want to be you; girls want you to be straight. Man, it would be so much easier if I were gay. At least then I'd have an excuse for the way I am. I've tried, you know. I thought maybe I was in denial. But I'm not. And I used to think, I used to ask myself, why wasn't I born a boy? Boys make so much more sense than girls. I've always felt more comfortable being around you and being around Aaron and just being me, if that makes any sense. What I would give to be able to attend Dalton with you. It sounds like a nirvana compared to the complete chaos of feminine mystique I have to face at school every day.

"What am I, Goober? What am I? And it was all these thoughts going through my head last night and so I started drinking to make the thoughts go away but they wouldn't so I took Mom's sleeping pills but they just kept coming back and so when that plate dropped, I really did just mean to clean it up. I swear I did…"

"Reegan," Blaine tried taking his sister's hand before she quickly jerked it away.

"Don't, just don't. Goober, what's wrong with me? It would be so much easier if I were just gay. But no, I'm just…damn it! I don't know what I am. I'm obviously not a boy but I don't feel like a girl. I've never felt like a girl. These past few years I've felt like I was a boy going to school in drag. Does that make sense?"

A nurse entered the room before Blaine was able to formulate any semblance of an answer to his sister's pleadings. In many ways, Reegan was glad that her brother didn't have to voice his opinion. This was probably the first time she had ever admitted to her feelings of inadequacy and utter failings when it came to her gender. It wasn't that she didn't like being a girl. She just didn't like acting like one. She wasn't comfortable in the role that was created for her the moment her mother's obstetrician looked between her legs.

XXX

After she had been deemed "stable," Reegan was transferred to the psych ward of the hospital. At least she got a private room. The first few days, she was stuck speaking to shrinks about wanting to end her life and how long had she been depressed and had she ever tried medication. But Reegan didn't want to try medication. She didn't understand how a little pill would help her feel different. It wasn't until her third day in the ward that she finally spoke to somebody who appeared to understand her.

George wasn't a psychiatrist. He wasn't even a psychologist. He was still a grad student doing his clinical hours as painlessly as possible. And apparently, Reegan was an interesting case that would make for a good case presentation, or at least that's what she assumed. After all, she was a girl who tried killing herself because she was too popular.

"Hey, how you doing?" George asked as he entered the room. Reegan groaned and pulled her sheet over her head. "I'll take that as meaning not so good. Would you like to talk about it?"

"Do I look like I want to talk about it?" Reegan muttered from underneath her sheet. "How long's it gonna take before you guys realize I'm not a threat to myself anymore?"

George sighed, "I have no idea. I'm just here to talk. Reegan, when the doctors examined you originally, they found scars under your breasts. Tell me truthfully, were you cutting yourself on purpose to hurt yourself or for some other reason?"

"Some other reason?"

"Yes, you see, I've seen injuries like those before. And the doctors who work here, they think that you're self harming, but I have a different theory. You see, I've spoken to your brother…"

"Blaine?" Reegan pulled the sheet down.

"Yes," George took a seat in the chair next to her bed. "He told me some interesting things. He told me that you didn't want to be a girl?"

"Well, not literally."

"How so, then?"

Reegan took a deep breath and tried to explain her feelings. She told George about how she fought tooth and nail to wear pants when her mother would try to put a frilly dress on her. She never played house or with dolls and always stole her brother's trucks and cars while growing up. She kept her hair short. She played soccer and rugby and baseball and took up karate and tae kwon do and other martial arts. How she would play with the boys and never the girls. She always had more in common with her best friend Aaron than his sisters or any girls at school. Then she told George about the teasing when she entered junior high. She explained about how the other kids, the girls especially, would call her very hurtful things. They called her Reggie; they called her a carpet muncher, a lezzie, a dyke and a host of other names that brought tears to her eyes. And how she made a conscious choice at the end of 8th grade to change the way she looked and acted so she could fit in more.

"And the scars?" George asked after she finished her story.

Reegan looked into George's eyes for the first time since their meeting. "I tried to cut them off."

George nodded and leaned in to speak to Reegan more directly. "Reegan, have you ever heard of gender identity disorder?" Reegan shook her head. "Well, that's the medical term. It basically means that sometimes a person is born in the wrong body, in the wrong gender."

Reegan pulled back, "Transgendered? But I'm not gay."

"I never said you were. That's a stereotype. The truth is transgendered people are gay, straight and bisexual just like anybody else."

"But I don't think I'm a guy. I just…I'm more comfortable being like a guy, not being a guy. I don't want to be a guy."

"Reegan, gender can be fluid just like sexuality. Being transgendered doesn't mean that you're a hundred percent the opposite gender, it just means that you don't fit the gender you were assigned at birth. A lot of people take hormones, get surgery, etc. But not all do. Not all want to. Reegan, you can act and behave like a male but still be female underneath. It's completely your choice."

"But that doesn't make any sense."

George smiled, "Not many things in life do. Look, I wanted to ask you. I have a group, a therapy group for people who are or possibly could be transgendered. I think it would be good for you if you possibly came to a few sessions. It might help if you hear some people's stories. Plus, if you agree to attend, you can probably break free from this place a few days earlier, especially since you can't attend the group if you're an inpatient. Think about it, okay?"

Reegan did more than think about. She spoke at length about it with her brother. She stayed adamant that she wasn't a freak and they stayed adamant that she wasn't a freak either.

"Am I a freak?" Blaine asked.

"No," Reegan smiled, "but you're also not being told that you were born the wrong gender."

"Prez, when was the last time you were happy? I mean truly happy? I haven't seen you smile since we were in middle school. Besides, you might not be transgendered. He just asked that you come to the group, not come out."

"But what if I am? What does that make me? A gay man? What guy's going to want me, a guy stuck in a girl's body? I don't get it."

Blaine took his sister's hand, "I know of one guy who doesn't care."

"What are you talking about?"

"Aaron."

"Aaron? As in my best friend Aaron? As in the boy next door Aaron? As in my sparring partner Aaron?" Reegan scoffed in disbelief.

"Yes, Aaron. Haven't you noticed he's visited you every single day after school? And he's the only person who has? He did damage control making sure nobody knew the truth about your accident. Hell, he was the first person I called when I found you on the floor…after 911 of course. He didn't leave your side until his parents dragged him away and I promised I'd give him hourly updates. Prez, you are so oblivious. He has been in love with you since you guys were eight years old. How could you not have realized this?"

"Because he's Aaron."

Blaine hugged his sister," You know what else? You're in love with him too." Reegan swatted him in disbelief. "Reegan, you're happy when you're with him. You're yourself. I think you should take up this guy's offer and when you get home you can figure out for yourself how perfect you and Aaron are for each other, regardless if you're a boy or a girl."

"That just sounds ridiculous," but it got Reegan thinking. She had never really thought about Aaron in that way. She never really had to. How was she to know that he had any sorts of feelings for her? He never mentioned anything and he never flirted with her, not the way the guys on the football team did. He also never seemed jealous when she was dating some random guy. Of course, she tended to see less of him during those times but that's because she was with said random guy. Plus, it wasn't like Aaron was around often when he was dating somebody, which, now that Reegan thought about it, wasn't that often. When was the last time that Aaron had had a girlfriend? Reegan couldn't remember.
How did this happen? Reegan was supposed to be deciding whether or not to join a therapy group for transgendered youth and now she was thinking not-so-innocent thoughts about her best friend. Stupid Goober, getting her priorities all out of whack.

XXX

Eventually, Reegan opted for the outpatient therapy and group sessions. She just couldn't think inside the hospital and figured that everything would make more sense once she got home. She had to stay in the hospital one more week, due to the fact that it took that long for the doctors to convince her that starting Zoloft was a good idea. Reegan kept trying to explain that she wasn't suicidal and anti-depressants were part of the reason she was in the hospital in the first place but in the end she acquiesced.
It also took that long for Reegan to convince her parents to let her take time off from school. She had already missed several weeks due to being in the hospital, plus she would be missing a lot more due to the intensivetherapy she'd be receiving. Also, she was afraid to go back to school. She didn't want to be that perfect cheerleader anymore and she was afraid of what would happen if she came back in the middle of her identity crisis. She wasn't an idiot. She remembered what happened to her brother the year before. She was the one who found him that time and his only crime was being gay. No, going to school would be another suicide attempt. Transferring was also out of the question. Crawford Country Day was the antithesis of what she needed and while she was more comfortable in the masculine world, for all intents and purposes Reegan was still female which meant that Dalton was out of the question. And so, through great compromise, Reegan got a tutor.

"What the hell is this?" Reegan had been home less than five minutes before she noticed some major décor changes. "What happened to my door?"

A large navy blue curtain was hanging where the door to Reegan's bedroom had been. Reegan looked at her brother in disbelief.

"Yeah, Mom and Dad got a little worried that you might try to hurt yourself again," Blaine explained. "So they kind of suicide proofed the house."

"Suicide proofed?"

"Yeah, you'll notice none of your shoes have laces, your belts have all disappeared, and they added biometrics to the kitchen. You can't get in without their or my thumbprint. Oh, and they bought you an electric razor."

"They're insane." Blaine shrugged in agreement. "And where are they? You'd think they'd be here when I got home. I mean they signed me out of the hospital."

Instead of answering the question, Blaine helped Reegan carry her bag into her room. The pair hadn't even started to unpack when they heard a knock.

"Hey, what happened to your door?" Reegan recognized Aaron's voice immediately.

"You know, I think I have some homework to do," Blaine said as he inched towards the hallway. "If you need me I'll be in my room. Aaron, nice to see you again. Bye."

Reegan stood awkwardly looking at her best friend, finding herself at a loss for words. She studied him closely. She admitted to herself he was attractive. He had a surfer boy's good looks, ironic for someone who had never left Ohio, with almond colored eyes and dusty blonde hair. His figure was tall and lean, as was hers, a product of all the martial arts training the two had done together. And for some strange reason, even if the dead of the Ohio winter, his face always looked sun-kissed. Her brother's words from a week before echoed in her mind.

He's in love with you. You're in love with him too. It was absurd.

This was Aaron, her best friend. He was a practical non-entity. Well, he was always around but that was just it. He was just around. Reegan always knew that he was around and she couldn't imagine what her life would be like if he disappeared…Oh. Crap. Stupid Goober.

"I want to thank you," Reegan finally found her words, "for everything. For visiting me. For helping Blaine out. For bringing home my assignments." She sat down on her bed and motioned for Aaron to come in. He sat at her desk chair.

"Blaine said you weren't coming back to school," Aaron said with disappointment in his voice. "You know, they don't know. They think a mirror fell on you."

"Yeah, thanks for that. It's just that I've been going through a lot of crap. And I missed a lot of school and I just don't think that I can go back there. Aaron, I think I might be…"

"Gay?" Aaron interrupted, trepidation in his voice. "I mean I've heard it runs in families."

Reegan laughed, "No, not gay. At least not exactly. This is going to sound crazy but, I think I might be transgendered." She went on to explain everything that she and Blaine and George the social worker had spoken about. She talked about being uncomfortable in her own skin, feeling like she was in constant hiding in school, hating the way she looked in the mirror, not being able to relate with girls at all. "But I'm not a lesbian. I've never been attracted to girls, not the way Blaine's attracted to boys. I think I might just be a tomboy. I don't know. I have to go to this group and supposedly that'll help me figure out what I am. It's silly, trying to kill yourself over not wanting to be a cheerleader. Do I disgust you?"
Aaron wheeled the chair over to the bed and took Reegan's hands in his, "You could never disgust me. You're my best friend and you're perfect the way you are, whatever way you choose to be."

Reegan didn't know who made the first move. One moment she was looking at her best friend and the next she was kissing him. It felt, for lack of a better word, right. She pulled back after a few seconds and fell into Aaron's arms.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered into his shoulders.

"Well, you were always dating someone on the football team or on student council or…"

Reegan smiled and looked at the boy who she would always consider her first love, "They asked me out, silly. You never did."