Author's Note: You may have seen this story posted on another account, KR Peters, but I've decided to upload it to this account instead so that my followers might enjoy it. I assure you, the other account belongs to me as well. I'd never steal work from someone else!

Also I haven't fallen off the face of the Earth, I swear! Work has been brutal lately and I've recently moved in with my fiance. He's very distracting!

Enjoy the story! I found it in an old folder and felt like ressurecting it.

Simply Rexene

One

"Don't bitch at me, Aqua, you brought this on yourself," Dad's grip tightened on my wrist as he dragged me through the front door of the local salon. "One haircut," he grunted to the stylist at the front desk, "Last name Canon, first name Aqua."

She threw me a look of pity as I jerked my arm away from him and straightened myself out. "We'll be right over here, Aqua."

My heart started to race as I sat down in her chair, the black cape feeling way too tight around my throat as she buttoned it.

"Same as last time, hun? About an inch off the bottom with a long layer?"

My eyes snapped to my reflection in the mirror as I swallowed the urge to vomit, taking in the sight of my long blue hair one last time before I choked out, "No... We need to go short..."

"Oh," she frowned slightly, her fingers playing through my soft waves, "How short were you thinking?"

Suddenly my father appeared behind us wearing his signature scowl as he leaned back against the wall and folded his arms across his chest, "Short."

Her eyes darted between us and she nodded, her own purple tipped hair bouncing slightly, "Maybe you could pick a look from one of our books?"

He all but snatched the book she held out to him right out of her hands, flipping through it for less than a minute before he slammed it down on her station, "That one."

I felt my gut wrench when he pointed directly at a picture of a young man with one of those shaggy skater boy cuts, but I had no choice. "Right... That one looks good," I forced the words out, fighting tears out of my eyes.

"Sweetheart, are you sure? We'd be taking at least twelve inches off..." she seemed reluctant.

My father's lip twitched, "She's lucky I didn't take my own clippers and give her a military buzz."

The stylist paused for a moment, making eye contact with me in the mirror before grabbing her shears and a comb.

"Exactly like the picture," he warned her, gluing himself to his spot on the wall as if he was determined to survey her every cut.

I couldn't watch as my hair began to fall to the floor. If I looked, I knew I would cry. But I did find my father's eyes in the mirror at one point, silently damning him for doing this to me.

"Okay... How's that look for you, hun?"

I was unaware of how tightly I was clenching my eyes shut until I opened them, pain rushing through my temples as the light blinded me. When I saw myself, my breath hitched up in my throat and I once again supressed the tears threatening to spill forth. "You did a wonderful job... thank you."

"Good enough," Dad pushed himself forward from the wall and marching up to the front desk.

After she took the cape off of me, I found myself glued to the seat. I couldn't stop staring at myself in the mirror... I looked like a boy. I had hoped that I could maybe pull off a cute pixie cut look, but nothing about it seemed feminine at all.

"Are you okay, hun?" she placed a hand on my shoulder in a failed attempt to comfort me.

"'m fine..." I mumbled, standing up too fast and sliding in a pile of my hair on the ground. My hair... It's not as if I was so vain that I thought I needed my long hair, but after 17 years, it had become a security blanket to me. With this haircut, I felt so ...exposed. My neck was completely bare, and an uncomfortable breeze from the air conditioning was spreading goosebumps along my skin.

"Aqua!" Dad barked, tapping the counter impatiently as we made our way to the front.

My stylist quickly brought up the account, "That'll be twelve dollars, sir."

He slapped down twelve dollars exactly and snaked his hand back around my wrist, promptly dragging me out the door.

"You could have at least tipped her, Dad... You were breathing down her neck like a creep the whole time," I growled at him, allowing him to shove me into the car.

"With what money, huh? The money I now have to waste on tuition as some fancy-ass school because you got yourself expelled?" he snapped, pulling out of the parking lot furiously.

I fell silent for a moment, shrinking down in my seat. "I'm sorry..."

"I don't understand. I just don't get it. How could you flood the gym, Aqua? How did you even pull it off?"

"I'd been begging for them to put in a pool all year and they wouldn't listen... So I gave them one," I muttered, staring out the window as he sped down the street. There was no way he was going the speed limit.

His fists tightened on the steering wheel, "Your obsession with water is disturbing."

"You're the one that named me Aqua," I shrugged, not giving two shits how disturbing he thought I was.

"No, that was your bitch mother."

My jaw tensed and I held back the words I wanted to let spill forth. "Mom wouldn't have forced me to go to an all boy's school."

"I told you not to bitch about it anymore, Aqua. You brought it on yourself."

"Where are we going?" I asked as he turned down a street I didn't recognize.

He smirked, "We need to pick up your uniform."

"I have to wear a uniform?!" I whined like a brat, slamming my hands onto the dashboard.

"Of course. All the boys at your new school wear them."

"I hate you," I groused, huffing and crossing my arms as I sank down in my seat.

His nostrils flared and I could tell he was holding something back. "Hate me all you want. I had to call in every favor I've ever earned at the firm to get you into this school and you're going to attend. If I hear about you so much as skipping one second of class, I'll-"

"Yeah, yeah... I get the riot act, Dad."

His hands wrung around the steering wheel and I could tell he was on edge with me. He hated it when I interrupted him, and even moreso when I did it with attitude. But attitude seemed like all I had lately.

I didn't allow him to drag me into the store; I tried to keep as much dignity as I had by walking a few steps ahead of him through the sliding doors.

"You have Crest Academy uniforms here, right?" he badgered one of the workers as I took off towards the makeup aisle. Maybe a new shade of lipstick would help me feel like a girl again.

But my dreams were crushed as a tight grip on my shoulder steered me towards a rack of solid red suit jackets and black pants.

"You've got to be kidding me..." I muttered, reaching out to feel how scratchy the polyester would be on my skin.

"We'll get you two jackets and four pairs of pants for now. I think six dress shirts should tide you over until my next paycheck... And you only need a couple ties," he talked more to himself than to me as he started ripping items off the rack. "You'll need black dress shoes as well, and tall socks."

I grimaced as he shoved the clothes into my arms, "Go try these on and see if they fit."

"Fine..." I grumbled, heading for the dressing room in the back.

"Wait, one more thing!" he called, hurling a piece of black spandex at me.

I stared at it, "What the fuck is this?"

"It's a compression vest. Female atheletes use them to keep their... area... contained," he skirted around the word, a light blush hitting his cheeks.

"You mean it'll keep my tits in check," I deadpanned, checking the size. "Dad, you know I'm not an extra small."

He shrugged, "You need them as flat as possible."

"This will literally suffocate me," I grimaced, the idea of having my boobs shoved into my throat sounding very unappealing.

"Just put it on," he grit through clenched teeth, throwing himself down on one of the chairs outside the dressing room.

I sighed, yanking open one of the curtains to change. I shed my outfit; a simple pair of blue jeans and a black tshirt with my standard blue Converse hi-tops. It was really the ony thing I felt comfortable in anymore.

My comfort was replaced by a pair of shapeless black dress pants that scratched at my sensitive skin in all the wrong places. They would work if I wore a belt; any smaller and they'd be able to see the feminine curves of my hips. I eyeballed the compression vest, every fibre of my being wanting to tear it to shreds. But I slipped the fabric over my head and yanked it down with an intense amount of force, finally getting it over my C-cups and marveling as they disappeared beneath the black spandex. ...Where were they hiding? Under my armpits?

Spinning around as I watched myself in the mirror, I really couldn't discern what had happened to my breasts. They'd somehow just been sucked back into my body or something. I felt like I was being suffocated with a pillow, but I pulled on the white dress shirt and buttoned it up to the very top before expertly tying a black necktie under the collar. I hated that I knew how to do that... that I used to tie Daddy's tie every day for him before work. ...Before he became the asshole he was today.

As if I wasn't already struggling to breathe, I slipped on the red jacket and buttoned the two buttons in the middle. It seemed like way too much fabric to wear on a daily basis.

When I emerged from the dressing room to show Dad, I was instead faced with a pair of ugly black dress shoes. "Try these on too."

"I already look like a tool, Dad..."

But a sharp glare from him had me sliding the shoes on over my worn socks.

"They fit. Can I change back now?"

He surveyed me for a moment. "Damn, you really do look like a man."

"And you look like an asshole," I snarked, disappearing behind the curtain again.

"You should dye your hair back to brown," his voice floated through.

I sneered even though he couldn't see me, "Not a chance in hell."

"Fine, we'll just wait for the Principal to tell you to do it," he countered, making me sniff in distaste. I hated school that stifled their student's creativity.

Once I'd changed back into my own clothes, I emerged from the curtain and thrust the pile of nonsense into his arms, "Just buy the shit... I'll be in the car waiting."

His eyes narrowed on me, but he didn't object so I turned and headed for the exit. Once I got outside I stared at his black SUV in disdain, really dreading the ride home with him. Before I realized what I was doing, my feet decided to take me home instead.

I'd been walking for about fifteen minutes when I heard a car slow down behind me, "Aqua, get in the car."

Hearing Dad's voice made the hair on the back of my neck stand up and instead of turning around, I just held up my middle finger and kept walking.

"Get in the damned car!" he shouted this time, sounding incredibly irritated. "Do you know how worried I was when you weren't waiting for me?!"

"Right... like you give two shits what happens to me."

He slammed on the brakes and threw the car into park, wrenching his door open and starting after me. "God damn it, Aqua, do you really think I don't care about you?"

I grit my teeth together as I felt his hand clamp down on my shoulder and stop me. I didn't feel like talking to him, but I wasn't about to run from him like a child either.

"You're my daughter," his voice softened slightly, "I love you. You know that, right?"

"You have a funny way of showing it," I muttered, shrugging him off and continuing down the sidewalk.

He growled, "Fine. Walk home."

It took me longer than I'd like to admit to finally get home, but when I reached our trailer I went straight for my room. I could care less if I had dinner or not; I didn't want to deal with him anymore.

I about tore the uniforms to shreds when I found that my rat bastard of a father had already hung them up in my closet, throwing a few of my nicer dresses onto the floor to make room. It looked like he'd also rifled through my dresser, no doubt filling it with men's socks and those stupid compression vests.

It pained me that we didn't have a bathtub in this dump, so I settled instead for a very long shower. While I couldn't exactly explain my obsession with water, I couldn't deny it either. It was where I felt the most comfortable, and where I would spend all of my time if I could.

"Aqua! Get out of the shower before you run the fucking bill through the roof again!"

My lip twitched and I slammed the faucet down, turning off the water and ripping the curtain back. "What the fuck kind of a lawyer can't even afford water?" I muttered, wrapping myself in a towel and stepping out into the hallway.

"What was that?" his voice hissed in my ear.

"Oh, fuck Dad... You reek like vodka," I coughed, swatting him away from me.

I yelped as he grabbed a fistful of my wet hair, throwing me up against the wall, "I'm sick and tired of your fucking attitude, Aqua. You're just as bad as your bitch mother was."

"Take your hands off me," I snarled, wishing he wasn't so strong.

"Who's gonna stop me?" he grinned lecherously, his eyes snapping down to my towel at it started to slide down. "Damn it, you look so much like her..."

I shrank away from him as he leaned in way too close to me, "You're such a disgusting old pervert..."

"And you're nothing but a whore," his voice dropped down low and I knew exactly what was going through his mind.

I lost my towel along the way, but I was able to slip myself down out of his grasp and run for my bedroom door. Usually when he grabbed me by the hair like that, there was a lot more for him to hang onto.

The moment I was safe, I locked my door tightly and slid the deadbolt I'd installed when Mom died shut, collapsing back on my bed and breathing heavily. I hated when he drank like that. He turned into a complete monster.

A harsh thump against the door made me jump, but after jiggling the doorknob a few times, he gave up and hopefully went to bed.

I curled up into a tight ball and sighed, dreading the fact that tomorrow I would have to put on that stupid, itchy uniform and go to a school where I had to masquerade as a man.

My life was a fucking joke. And a cruel one, at that.