A Proper Young Lady Read Free Page A

walks to the kitchen. She returns with a can of ginger ale and a glass of ice. “I don’t care about your sexual preferences or your gender. What concerns me is whether or not you’re making a well-informed and rational decision. Understood?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Now, then. Have you had sexual contact with anyone?”
    Heat blossoms across my face. Why didn’t I come alone? “Yes. When I was young.”
    “Did your clitoris play a part in that?”
    At the edge of my vision, Melanie gapes at me, her green eyes wide. Mine blink—a slow-motion rejection of reality. “Yes.” My shoulders slump, all my energy gone. 
    “Enough for now.” Dr. Pierson’s eyes gleam calm satisfaction.
    “Does that mean you’ll help?”
    “You’re certain you wish to proceed?”
    “I have to do this.”
    “Very well. I’ll line up a team. We’ll perform your surgery at the clinic.” She pulls a smart phone from her purse and hits a few buttons. “There’s an opening July 1st. We can always cancel if need be, but I’d like to get you on my calendar.”
    Nearly a month away. Time to prepare.
    Shouldn’t I be excited? They always promised that surgery would make me like other girls. Yet none of the intersex adults I’ve met are glad to have had their genitals modified—mutilated, some say. Not one. 
    Dr. Pierson gathers the empty glasses and carries them to the kitchen. When she returns, she hugs us both goodbye. “Come to the clinic Wednesday at one. We’ll discuss this further. I want to make sure you’re ready.”
    Hysterical laughter bounces around inside my skull. I may cut off a bit of flesh that once gave me pleasure. For Ethan. For my parents. But I’ll never be ready.

Melanie
    Dark clouds roll across the faded blue sky, threatening an afternoon shower. Palms trees dance a slow ballet in the wind. I grab Dani’s hand and rush down the driveway. The girl doesn’t even notice when we take a different route home.
    At Stanford Drive I pause long enough to get her attention. “You’re not the one who’s crazy, you know. It’s all these freaking people who think every girl has to look the same between her legs.”
    When Dani’s eyes rest on mine, I flinch at the despair flowing from them. “No one’s forcing me to do this, Melanie.”
    I grab the girl’s arms, shake her hard, and try not to scream. “What do you think all the psychologists are for? To help you decide between male and female—so you’ll remove your breasts or cut down your clitoris.” Heart thumping, face hot, I bite my lip to keep from swearing. “Didn’t any of those creeps ever tell you it’s okay to be intersex?” 
    Dani runs her fingertips down the side of my face, like she’s calming some hysterical little kid. Her eyes grow tender. “I want to be normal. All right? If that takes surgery, well then...” Pain grows in her eyes till she turns her head away.
    There’s gotta be a way to reach you. “Has Dr. Pierson ever gone back on her word?” 
    “No. Why?”
    “She promised to arrange your surgery. Isn’t there anything you’d like to do now that the gender police aren’t watching?”
    Her lips slow-morph into a smile. “Will you teach me to ride a motorbike?”
    I flash her a teasing grin. “Isn’t mine off-limits?”
    Some of the old Dani—the high-spirited tomboy I so loved—shines past the barrettes and makeup. “How much does a dirt bike cost?” 
    Motocross or not, she’d still have to drive it on the road. “Honda makes a street-legal 250. With a helmet and all—about four grand new.” 
    She purses her lips and appears to reconsider. “That’s a lot for something I’d only use for six weeks—ten at the most.” 
    “Wouldn’t you keep it?”
    Her face turns sullen. “Mum says a proper young lady doesn’t ride motorbikes.”
    Guess I’m not one then, huh? How many other things is Dani giving up in the name of being a woman? 
    We walk on in silence. When she turns to me again, the tender