By the time we got home, with Chinese takeout, Dad was home. "What did the doctor say?" Dad asked. "Is John okay?"
"It's quite a story," Mom said. "Let's get everyone sitting down, and we'll tell you what we know."
As we all sat down to eat, Cait asked, "So what's up with John?"
"John has a... genetic condition, the doctor calls it. He said it's Orlando Syndrome." Mom sighed. "He said... he said that John is becoming a girl."
"A girl?" Chuck asked. "How does that happen?"
"It's this Orlando Syndrome," I replied. "For whatever reason, I've got it, and it's changing me. It's not hurting me, I can tell you that; but, if the doctor's right, I'm going to be a girl."
"Cool," Patty said, "another big sister."
"Shut up," Chuck replied.
"It's not like I asked for this to happen."
"So," Cait asked, "what do we do?"
"John has an appointment with a specialist in Eagan," Mom replied. "We'll see her in two days; after that, we'll have a better idea how to deal with this."
I knew what she meant: At some point, it would be necessary for me to start living as a girl. I looked at Cait: I would have to wear the same things that she wore. I was going to need a bra; several bras. I would need to brush my hair every day. And, of course, I would have to deal with pads and tampons.
That night, I looked at myself before putting on my pajamas. I wondered if I had changed any more than I already had; so far, I looked the same as I had in the morning.
The next morning, I found one difference: My hair was at least an inch longer.
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