Marc/Mary: A Walk on the Beach

Following the transformation, there was the usual fuss and chaos of helping others with their own transition, imparting whatever information and guidance we could, making connections -- you never know who it is going to help to know or what you can do for someone else.

We hadn't really left the Inn much in days except for practical purposes, when on one of our last evenings there, John asked if I would like to take a walk with him on the beach.

I was a little taken aback. I don't know why, other than I was in practical-problem-solving mode, talking to one of the new transformees about some difficulty he/she was having. I think John read my flustered response as rejection and seemed a little sullen, retreating to our room.

I hurriedly ended the conversation and followed after. He explained it felt like I was avoiding him, throwing myself into the role of "Inn spirit guide" and not really focusing on what was going on with us. I supposed that was true, but I felt like as the person who has been to the Inn the most times (and there were some returning people in the group as well) I felt a little bit called to a leadership position, I supposed, and I felt like he and I... we had stability, and lots of time to figure it out, compared to the ticking clock when all of these transformed people would go on their ways.

He stood and put his hands on my upper arms -- whether he's doing this consciously or not, it feels like it underscores the "He man, me woman" dynamic between us, when I have to look up to him and feel his comparatively hands on my comparatively small person -- and sighed, saying he supposed he was just a little eager to figure out where we stood. "You know, you say we're not married, but you did willingly become my wife..."

I agreed it's complicated, and then upon giving it more thought, a walk and some "us time" sounded nice. The only problem, I pointed out, was that my hair was a rat's nest and I'd been wearing grimy sweats for the past three days, as I hadn't quite let my sartorial style catch up to my physical transformation.

"I saw a lovely dress in your luggage," he said with a suggestive eyebrow.

Deep breath, in and out. I haven't lived as a woman for several years, but it's nothing new, and it's exactly what I knew was coming.

I found the dress, a colorful zigzag pattern ankle length summer dress. Spaghetti straps, low neckline, presenting my very moderate cleavage (this -- being relatively slim and modest-chested -- is different from my earlier, curvier experience of womanhood.) I was about to disrobe, when I instructed John to go wait in the hall.

"Excuse me? Do you think I haven't--"

"Not on my, you haven't. Just... humor me, okay?"

He took a beat, then snapped his fingers, "You got it," and complied.

I slipped my sweats off, took the opportunity to slip on a fresh set of underwear (Mary -- now Iris -- and I had bought some fresh ones that could just be mine, in advance of our trip) and stepped into the dress.

I went to the mirror to check myself out and... well. It's funny how, when you've been at this a while, your brain doesn't  quite reject the idea of a new person in your reflection, because I liked the way I looked. In fact, I took the time to dab on a little bit of make-up (I'm pretty out-of-practice but can still do something with a brush) and put in a pair of earrings. God, I thought as I struggled with the backings, I must really be diving in with both feet. But hey, I've been a guy for a few years, and I made the choice to become a woman. Why shouldn't I let myself get pretty?

I came out to meet him at the front of the Inn, and he gave a low, approving whistle, which tickled me a bit. I was handsome as Dustin, and as Koti John never let me forget it, but this feels a little more intentional, if that makes sense. He placed his hands on my hips and embraced me, attempting to get a kiss -- I turned my cheek for him to kiss me there. I just wasn't ready to go full-couple.

With a purse dangling from my arm, we went toward the beach and walked just near the surf.

"Are you excited?" he asked, "to get to this next phase?'

"Excited isn't quite the word," I said bashfully, "It wasn't exactly Christmas morning, waking up like this. It's more like starting a new job. There's nerves, fears, hope, and yes, a little bit of excitement. Things feel fresh, and... possible."

"I like that," he said in his warm, manly voice. 

We held hands.

"You're not wearing the ring," he noted, flatly. I'm sure he meant it to come off neutrally, but I could tell there was disappointment in his tone.

"It's... not really mine to wear," I said. "It would be part of a costume, and I respect Mary too much to take it from her."

He let out a deep, half-frustrated exhale. "You're really going to keep me in limbo, huh? I'll get you your own ring, if that's what you want."

"Life is complicated," I reasoned. "And so are we. I'm not looking for a ring just yet. I want proof that this is what we really want with the rest of our lives."

"Fine," he said gamely, "I like a challenge."

One of us suggested we find some place for dinner, and there was a little seafood place we managed to get a table. I will say, eating a good meal with someone else's tongue is a highly underrated part of this experience. Something about Mary's palate is a lot more sophisticated than Dustin's. It's interesting to inherit those sensory pathways, whether it's something natural or that comes with age.

After dinner, we went walking again, until my legs got tired and we got a ride home. The driver was playing music: Fleetwood Mac. I quietly sang along, "Thunder always happens when it's raining..."

"I didn't know you liked this song," John noted.

"Sure, who doesn't like this song?"

"I introduced Mary to Fleetwood Mac when we met. She was young, the only thing she liked was pop."

"Hm..." I simply said. Was this going to be the future, him looking at my new face and being reminded of his... ex?

We got back to the Inn. Some of the others had initiated a card game -- nice to see people coping -- and John was keen to join, since I had indicated that this night wasn't going to end with anything overly physical. I walked toward our room. On my way past, I heard a noise coming from Mary's room.

Sobbing.

I knocked and called in. She didn't answer so I entered. She was sitting on the bed, crumpled tissues around.

"Honey, are you okay?" I asked, feeling a pang in my heart for her.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she sniffled. I immediately felt self-conscious. Was I the last person she wanted to see right now? Was it my fault?

"If you want to talk, if you're having regrets..." I said, struck with guilt.

"No, no, nothing like that," she said, collecting herself. "Sometimes it just hits you, you know? I literally just gave up my life and everything I knew. And it's just crazy that I was willing to do that. I wonder if I didn't appreciate what I had... not with John, but with everything else in life. Or was my life just not fitting me anymore?"

She went on, "It's got me all messed up, but it has nothing to do with you, or John. I did what I did for you, happily. I want you to have this. Even if you end up killing each other, at least you'll know."

She laughed a bit, slightly bitterly, "Watching you guys try to dance around each other for a few more years just sounded like too much of a nightmare."

That made me laugh, and relieved me. We talked a little longer -- not about heavy issues, just about the past few days, and what I had to look forward to as her, and other stuff. Fleetwood Mac.

And that was that, I guess.

More to come...

-Marc "Should I just start signing these as Mary?" Green

Ellie: Cutting in

I never thought it could be good.

For a long while, up to and including coming out to Iris, I was just resigned to the idea that my life was shit. That I had inherited a bunch of anxiety problems from Ellie, and my sexuality - or her sexuality, or our sexuality - compounded those. I felt awful all the time, didn't sleep well, stressed out and broke down time and again over stupid shit, shit that I know in the long run doesn't mean anything, but... yeah. It got to me. It was practically neverending, and trust me, the last thing I wanted to be was a fucking sob story.

Things didn't change after I came out. There was still finals, and graduation, and the vague feeling that people knew and judged me. I asked Emily if people were talking, and she said no. I asked if she had any plans, and she said yeah: she was going back to the Inn.

That hurt a bit. When I was a guy, she was my girlfriend, and I never really got over the guilt of letting her come to Maine with me. What's more, even though we haven't really seen eye to eye all the time since we transformed, I've still relied on her as a friend and confidante. Our relationship has been strained though, because after I admitted to the blog that I was into girls, she took it to mean that I still had feelings for her, and she went out of her way to make it clear that was not in the cards. I didn't say that's what I wanted, and I guess I'd be lying if I said I never imagined... but no, that wouldn't work anyway.

I questioned her decision to go back to the inn, rolling the dice to get a new body, and give Emily's body to someone else, and she reasoned that it was the perfect opportunity. She did the legwork of finishing high school for Emily, and now whoever got the body next wouldn't be tied to any place or life decision. Independence. I had to admit, it was a smart call. And then she said something that made me think twice.

"Do you want to be Emily?"

She's going to the Inn on the last week of the summer, basically leaving Emily's body in limbo all winter. Imagine that. This time next year I could be her. There are certain upsides to that. Emily is more conventionally attractive than Ellie, I would say (though I think I look fine.) Her family still has money, and seems to love and support her. There's also that freedom she was mentioning. And there's the nice big bonus of: she's straight, with no anxiety problems that I know about. I could have such an easy time as her.

But is that what I want for myself? Listen, whoever you are. reading this, I assume you're comfortable in your life. You know it could always be better, but you would think twice before taking that deal, wouldn't you?

In the end, it's not about being gay or straight, it's about taking a way out. I've been with girls, I've been with guys, I've been on both sides. At one point in my life as Ellie I probably would've loved to simplify it again. I remember Fletcher telling me that he had gone back and forth so many times that his sexuality was just a big blur. I'm not at that point and I don't know that I would ever be. There's been points, as Ellie, when I thought I would never be with anyone again. If being Emily meant I could go back and feel something familiar, I would really, truly consider it.

But that's not the whole story.

It was prom night. I convinced Iris to go, even though she's not the most social creature. I spent the whole night keeping her company, and I didn't mind. We're pals. I've spent a lot of time wrapped up in my own shit that it was good to get out and enjoy things, and to have her with me.

We went to an after party, there were drinks. Iris is kind of a lightweight, and before long she was feeling ill, so I walked her home. I had my arm threaded through hers to keep her steady. We got to her house, and she said, "My parents aren't home, mind coming in for a sec?" Sure, of course.

We got in the door. She removed her heels and wrapped her arm around me, gave me a big hug, and said "Ellie... there's something..."

And she didn't finish the thought. She just began kissing me, first on the cheek, then on the lips. It took me a second to get over the shock and pull away.

She seemed confused. "What do you... you... you like girls, don't you?"

"I do, I do," I reminded her, "But I just... I never thought of... doing that."

"I have," she said. "When I first thought maybe you were into girls, I thought maybe... I mean, I hoped it meant you were thinking about it. Then when you told me, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since."

"You're gay?" I said in shock.

"Yes!" she said, drunkenly slurring her words, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you then, I thought... I thought maybe you knew and that's why you were telling me. I couldn't handle it if you rejected me, though."

The idea had never crossed my mind. I guess I need to work on my gaydar.

She looked like she was going to cry, so I sat next to her and said "Just give me a minute, okay, this really surprised me."

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have done anything, forget it, you don't have to..."

"No, Iris, just wait," I said. "You're my best friend. And I just had no idea."

"If you don't want to ruin the friendship, I understand."

"Well," I said, "What's done is done..."

Then I wrapped my arm around her and pressed my lips to hers. I haven't kissed someone, really kissed them, in a very long time, especially not someone I liked that much. It was like a light went on, I swear.We kissed, then took a break, then kissed some more, then fell asleep on the couch in each others' arms.

When she woke up, she rolled over and looked at me. "I never thought I'd actually lose my virginity on prom night."

I laughed and kissed her, "You hardly lost your virginity."

"Well, when does a lesbian lose her virginity then?"

"I don't know," I admitted, "Guess we have a lot to learn."

"Well, I look forward to it."

Since then, I've wondered if maybe it was a mistake. Maybe, as much as I liked Iris as a friend, maybe certain other aspects of our personalities might prove incompatable. I don't know, maybe I'm overthinking it... but we took this leap and I intend to see it out. I'm tired to stifling myself.

It's just that sometimes I forget that Iris and I aren't really the same age. Whenever I find myself giving in and having fun with her, I remember that my experience is way, way, way beyond hers. Hell, even my experience in this life, let alone the past, is more significant. I can't expect her to live up to my, well, expectations, and I feel bad trying to lay all my baggage and needs at her feet.

So I'm just trying to go along and enjoy what we do have, and worry about the rest later. It's been a really nice month. That's something that I don't say often.

Ellie: Venting

Sometimes I'm a bad friend. I guess, knowing what you people know about me, it shouldn't be surprising that I get caught up in my own shit from time to time. In the last decade or so, I went from being a preteen girl, to a grown woman, to a man, to a teenage girl who likes girls. I don't even know how to be "me" sometimes. The only person I can really talk to about it is my "father," who is sympathetic... but I hate relying on him, because besides being in this together, we don't get along all that well. I don't get along so great with my "mother," either, who was putting a lot of pressure on me to finally graduate this year and get "my life" on track. Well, it is going to be my life for a long time, so I guess I should.

I was bottling all this angst about everything and I just needed to let it out... if I was a better writer I'd do it here more, but there's only so much satisfaction I get from that because it doesn't change anything. So I was studying for finals with my friend Iris, and I just suddenly started crying, and she asked what was wrong, I told her it was nothing to worry about, nothing she could really help me with, and she said that didn't matter. She was still my friend and I had to tell her.

I told her I was upset because I just realized I can't be anything "they" want me to be, the good, smart daughter who becomes a success. I don't have it in me, I'm crumbling. I'm living a whole bunch of lies.

And she said I was smart enough, smarter than most, and that I had probably more life experience than most people in this town, which is true. And she said she knew it wasn't about school, as stressful as it is. And I said she was right.

So then I told her it's because I'm gay. And I took a huge breath and there was this long silence, like I couldn't even believe I actually said it out loud. I never use that word to refer to myself. I always get around it by thinking to myself, "I'm interested in women," or "I'm really open minded" or "I'm not about gender," but I don't think that's quite it. I am, at least here and now... a gay person, a lesbian, a girl who really only wants to date girls and have guys as friends.

And I told her all about my stupid online dating experience from earlier this yea rand how disgusted I felt with myself for being so secretive and shady about it, stooping that low just to have someone that I had all that in common with, how pathetic I felt when I didn't enjoy it because even though I like women, I didn't like that woman. I just felt like no matter what I do with my life I was never going to get anywhere and never going to be happy.

And she hugged me, and she started to cry, and she said, "I know, I know, I know... I've known for so long but I didn't want to tell you I knew. I wanted you to tell me. I just want you to know I'm here for you. I'm still your friend."

And then I bawled, and we just laughed, it felt so amazing to get all that off my chest. And then we went back to studying and I thought about really moving forward... graduating, moving away, finding people who might really understand me, growing up after all that.

And then after she left, something kinda ate away at me for a while. "What did that mean, she knew? She knew for so long?" How does she see me... how bad was I at passing, even when I had a boyfriend?

Why does this bother me?

What else does she "know" about me?

What if Iris... isn't really Iris?

I went to bed that night just trying to recapture that amazing cathartic feeling of letting that all out, and keeping my secret fears and suspicions at bay. I don't want to end up in a situation like Tori had. I don't know. Maybe it's stupid, but you can never be too careful, right?

My stomach's back to turning itself into knots. Ugh.

Ellie: I haven't forgotten.

It's been a busy summer, and now that I'm back in school, life is only getting busier. If Ellie was going through school at the normal rate, I would have graduated last spring, but thanks to her complicated life, I'm taking a delayed path through high school. Fair enough since I missed it the first time around.

I've only got two classes, science and math, then after lunch most days I work a shift at a department store. I spent all summer looking for work, but everyone was all hired up until September. This way I can save up, because I have a feeling I'm going to have to start seriously thinking about colleges. Truth is, it looks like the real Ellie is long gone and maybe never to return. I would give her her life back in a heartbeat... I don't have any particular attachment to it, obviously, but I'm comfortable here and really not comfy handing it off to someone else. I can handle being a teenage girl. Usually.

I spent a lot of this summer keeping the people I consider my friends at a distance. It started at prom, when I went with Callahan, and guilted my friend Iris into coming even though she'd be pretty much alone while I attended to my date. Iris is not the kind of person who would have a lot of fun dancing and partying, especially more or less alone. But I told her I cared about her too much to let her stay home while I was having fun. That was my mistake.

To her credit, she was game. On very short notice she got a great dress and when I asked throughout the night if she was having fun she didn't seem totally miserable. I told myself it was good for her but maybe I shouldn't have pushed so hard. I prodded her into coming along to an after-party with me and Callahan and Emily and her boyfriend. One of the jocks has really open-minded parents, so there was about 15 kids there, plenty of booze, and no adults.

I've already lived through some pretty wild stuff, honestly. These kids, getting their first taste of freedom, going a bit nuts, I understand. I really didn't expect Iris to take to it, though, but she really did dive in and start drinking. Until she started throwing up. I spent the last few hours of the night taking care of her in the bathroom. Between retching, she kept apologizing for making me take care of her like this and saying how pathetic she felt but I kept trying to tell her it's okay, she's young - I mean we're young. She fell asleep curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor, I slept in the bathtub. It was nice in a kind of weird sister-caretaker kind of way. But it seems like she was pretty embarrassed because she didn't talk to me much before going on vacation for most of the summer.

Meanwhile, there was Callahan, who I wasn't clicking with the way I thought I might. He was mainly interested in the physical aspect of being in a relationship. And don't get me wrong, he was handsome and I have needs, but when he holds me, I can't help but feel how much younger he is than me, how inexperienced. If I am going to be Ellie forever then I might have to stay alone for a while because the difference between me and everyone around me is too glaring, even after a year. I don't understand how Emily puts herself through it.

The good news is, if I wanted to know, I can ask. Emily obviously has the same spotty educational record as Ellie, so she's still here with me, while her boyfriend is off at University of Michigan, and Callahan is at University of Miami. I don't even know what she thinks of all this.

For now, the plan is just to soldier on, take it day by day as Ellie, year by year if necessary. It's depressing sometimes, to be stuck here, but I guess that's what being a teenager is.

Ellie: What I know

Now that the school year is winding down, I can finally de-stress and pay a little attention to this blog. It's always in the back of my head, because from a certain angle thinking about the Inn and my life (and Ellie's and Emily's and everybody else) is way more important than whether I got my homework done. But in the moment, it's easy to get caught up in the day to day facts of being this girl at this point in her life (and mine.)

I never went to high school. I graduated finished the eighth grade, took a vacation with my dad, and woke up one morning in a "real world" where I was a grown woman. It was a mixed blessing because every teenager craves freedom, but hates responsibility. And I didn't have the proper amount of time to grow into myself. Sometimes I hear about people "my age" (whatever age that is) who lost their parents or have had to be self-sufficient for any reason, and I want to tell them I know exactly how they feel, but as Ellie, I'm not supposed to. In my life, this high school chunk was the missing piece of my life experience. It may seem like hell to a lot of the people here, but it works, when you're 16 or 17 to ease you into life on your own. Knowing the alternative, which I lived, I would have gladly gone through this from the beginning.

Which is why I kind of gravitated toward Callahan, when I started learning more about him. It started out as a curiosity, when Iris first mentioned it. A sort of reminder that I'm still a girl in a school half-full of boys, who may want to look t me or get to know me. And even though I didn't consider myself available, that didn't mean I couldn't get lonely. I've spent the bulk of my "adult" life with members of the opposite sex, whichever sex that happened to be. As Ellie I've been both "alone at last" and lonely.

I got myself into situations where I could talk to him. Saying "Hi" in the hallway, later asking about his life. It helped to mend fences between me and Emily. I think she always thought I was bitter because she started flirting and dating almost from the get-go, and maybe I had lingering feelings. I don't know what to say about any of that, but suddenly we related a lot better. If there's anything that brings teenage girls together, it's a crush.

This wasn't a crush, but I maybe tried to make it one. I thought if I was going to like any of the guys at school it would probably be him, and the more I got to know him, the more I liked him. But there's a limit on that. There's nothing special about him. He's not overly funny or smart, but he's not a bad guy. I just find him less annoying than the other boys around here.

And I thought for a little while that was good enough. It was a high school relationship, not some deep romance. If I wanted to hang around with a guy, I could text him and see if he wanted to watch a movie or something. He got the message pretty quickly and we're set to go to Prom together this weekend.

Except I can't help but feel wrong about this. This is my first prom ever, I've got this nice dress, and my date is just some guy "I can put up with." I don't know what he's expecting afterward but even though I've done plenty with worse guys, I can't help but feel like going through with "prom night stuff" would be too wrong, but leading him on, more than I already have, would feel even worse. This situation is very new to me.

My best friend, Iris, is going to be there too, without a date. I kind of goaded her into it because I agreed to go and didn't want to "just" be with him and Emily, I wanted someone I really like there. I also wanted her to have fun, because, aside from going to the Inn you're only young once and I don't like seeing her waste it.

What I've learned is that I'm still going to be here next year. My "father" made the decision that since we don't know what happened to the real Ellie, Emily and Mr. McClay, it would be a bad idea to return to the inn especially since we don't have "real" bodies to return to. This is something that still keeps me up nights sometimes. I'm not much of an investigator. I had some leads back in the fall but the trail went cold and... well, I got distracted. It's not easy leading a double life. I'll talk more about it, hopefully, when I get some time this summer.

Ellie: Keeping on

There are things you learn without knowing it. A really obvious example of this is math. Since my tutoring sessions started with Iris, I've been getting 70's rather than 40's.

I think I just benefit from the environment. I think I mentally check out when I'm in a classroom, but with someone sitting down and explaining the principles to me, I can follow along and retain it. Everything's a bit more clear. Iris is a very good tutor, although she's still sometimes awkward socially.

Before she was hired to be my tutor, I'd seen her around the school a bit. She didn't look like someone I wanted to know. It bothers me that I can be this superficial, but she's the textbook high school outcast who might grow into a beautiful woman but for now, is stuck with glasses and acne and an underdeveloped body. She's shy and doesn't have a great sense of conversation, but is also clearly unnerved by silences, leading her to ask every so often "So what's new? Seen any good movies?" I try to humor her.

I ran into her at the mall on the weekend. I hate how often I go, but there's not a lot to do in this town. I go by myself, I window shop and eat mall food. I watch the teenagers a bit, trying to figure them out. I wish I could've had a time in my life to be young and stupid. Well, I did end up being young and stupid, but in my own way.

I saw her across the food court. She smiled and waved and I nodded back and she took that as an invitation to come over. "Hey, how are you? How about that math test?"

I told her how well I did, how good she was as a tutor and she got a bit embarrassed. "It's not hard really. It's just my way of helping. What are you doing here today?"

I tell her I'm just here to hang out. She gets a bit disappointed, I guess because she thinks I'm about to shoo her away. She asks who I'm with.

"Nobody," I tell her. "I'm just here by myself."

"Really?" The idea seems completely impossible to her, that I could be alone willingly. "I thought you were friends with Emily and all them."

"It's... complicated. I'm friendly with them, but I'm not friends with them."

"Do you hate them?"

"No, they're good people, just not the kind of people I'd wanna spend a Saturday with."

"What kind of people would you wanna spend a Saturday with?"

"I like being alone," I tell her.

She admits to me, "I hate being alone. I'm alone all the time. If people wanted to be friends with me, I'd be near them all the time."

I don't tell her she sounds desperate. That the "cool" people don't cling to others so desperately. But I'm not one to pass judgment, because I was pretty needy in my youth.

"With the right people, you know exactly how much time to spend together," I tell her, seriously sugarcoating things.

"So you don't wanna date anyone?"

"I'm not really the dating type," I tell her. I've learned my lesson, especially in the hormonal tiger trap of high school, when you're a Trading Post person, relationships are... practically impossible.

"Is that why you didn't wanna date James Callahan?"

I nearly choke on my soda. James Callahan is a tall, all-American looking boy in our grade. I've had almost zero interaction with him. I've never heard my name mentioned in the same breath as his. After a moment I realize this is probably referring to something from before my time as Ellie. But I later found out it was still "current" enough that Iris had recently heard about it.

I didn't really know what to say, so I said "Not everybody always wants to date everybody else." This is the hard lesson I've learned lately, and perhaps the most blunt thing I've said to this naive young girl.

To my surprise she understands this. "Life would be so much easier if they did."

By the end of the meal, I think I could stand to spend a bit more time with this girl, so we ended up going around the mall together. When I was Sam, I was sort of a fashionista. I treated my first "new" body like a Barbie doll. Even when I was Max, I would go shopping with Tanya and Melanie and help them pick outfits. It changed when I was with Emily, though. I became less interested in the appearance and more interested in the girl herself. I became kind of a guy cliche of "Yeah, she's dragging me along shoe shopping." Even since I've been Ellie, I'm the least girliest I've ever been. I dress in tomboy clothes, jeans and tees and don't think twice about it, even though Ellie's got an impressive wardrobe for a 17-year-old, because I'm not interested in playing the game, not interested in putting myself on display, not interested in showing off this body. I feel strong.

Iris is someone who clearly doesn't know the first thing about the girly stuff, but what surprised me was that she seemed interested. This girl who dresses in corduroys and Converse shoes was eyeballing sundresses and even glancing in the lingerie store. I bit my tongue. I didn't want to say "You should try that on" because I don't want to make her into a project, I don't want to give her a makeover, I don't want to give her the idea that her entire identity is tied to her appearance.

See, that's the other thing you can learn without knowing you learned. I realized, when I was a guy, how much women do to look good for guys. Some of it's for themselves, and sometimes it's to get attention because the attention feels good.

I thought I was escaping. I thought I was invisible at school. But if Callahan has still been asking about me to Emily (and Emily to Iris, hence how she knows) it means I'm still visible, and that the tomboy thing isn't keeping the boys away.

On Monday, I saw Callahan in the hallway. I didn't talk to him, I acted like I didn't know anything about him. But knowing what I knew, I really looked at him. Handsome. Good body. I don't know anything about his personality, but I had him written off as a dumb jock and now I'm not sure. He could obviously date if he wanted to, so it's his bad luck if he's hung up on me... because I'm really not sure what to make of this.

Ellie: The female Ferris Bueller

I took today off from school. "Dad" will probably be mad at me but I know he doesn't have any real power. "Mom" is really forgiving, always going on about how it's best for me not to exert myself. I know it's probably a good idea for people Ellie's age to stay in school but I can't bring myself to do it. I can't face those freaking people and I can't pretend I'm even trying to keep up with schoolwork.

I try not to overdo it, but every so often I feel the need to slag off and spend a day roaming the house in my PJ's, eating ice cream for lunch and watching The Wire on DVD.

I met up with Emily for coffee on Saturday. It sucked. She's dating some guy who totally is in love with her. She doesn't see anything wrong with stringing him along. The whole back-to-high school concept washes better with her than it did for me, I guess since I never really went. It's shown me an uglier side of her, because I see her connecting with the vapid bimbos at school and I just think "What's the point?" I thought she had more character.

We talked about the Inn and whether we'd be going back. I said I was completely certain at this point that if I could get back, I would, whether we ever find the real Ellie and Emily or not. Emily was squirming. "Maybe we should just let it be, we can't find them for a reason, it's not very practical, etc etc."

This put me in a bad mood for my first Saturday night study session with my new tutor, Iris. That's right, Saturday night, cracking the books, with some strange girl in my room.

I hate to be judgmental, but Ellie must've left me some kinda residual "mean girl" genes, because when I first saw her at my door I thought she looked like a wreck. Visually, she's not the queen of high school, you can tell. She's a skinny little nothing, with matted blonde hair and loose clothes, thick glasses and acne. Okay, 90% of the people I've met since I've been here have been acne-prone teenagers, but this girl seemed to have a bad case.

I hate that I'm telling you this. I hate that I think that reflects on her as a person. I think it's given her some aggression because she took it out on me hard when I simply could not "get" the math she was helping me with. At first she seemed pleasant, instructing me on the algebraic formula and order of operations and stuff, but the more questions I asked, the more exhausted she seemed and the more I wanted to tell her "Hey, shut the fuck up, I didn't ask to learn math after all this time of being on my own!" I felt a panic attack coming on, but luckily she called it a night early. I think she doesn't like me. Or she doesn't like the person she thinks I am. I'm not sure what I think about her.

It's almost a lost cause, this math stuff. If I made it this far without using it, I doubt I'll need it wherever I end up. Ellie's doomed to stay in high school at least another year even though she should be graduating. Me trying to learn math, that feels like rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic. Unfortunately, that's the one point "Dad" has managed to win over mom, that their little girl needs to at least graduate high school.

Wherever the real Ellie is, I hope it's better than high school.