Right, this story carries all kinds of warning flags. I’m not joking. If you have even the faintest trace of triggers don’t read this story. Otherwise it's rather sweet.
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The town where I grew up was not exactly a multicultural metropolis like New York. On the other hand, it was not a redneck backwater either. While most of us were white we had our share of other ethnicities as well. Mostly native Americans and blacks. Still, none of those blacks were as black as the new student in my high school class. She was really ebony black, not the various hues of brownish black of the “native” blacks. Native in the sense that they, and their forefathers had been in this country for at least fourscore and seven years. Rasa on the other hand was pure African. Pitch black, tall, muscular and moved like a large feline. No wonder she soon was tagged with the name “The Black Panther”.

I was turning blue standing there in the cold sea. I cursed myself for being such a coward. Standing on the beach were Mike and Steve, the two biggest jocks in my school, eagerly waiting for me to get out of the water. I was scared, really scared of what they were going to do. How could I be so stupid to come out this way? Not that anybody would be surprised. I had always come across as too feminine for a boy and everyone, including me, knew it was only a matter of time - but anyway - this was a really stupid way to do it.

I woke up to a wonderful morning. The storm and heavy rain didn’t bother me. Life was good. The day before had been remarkable. To begin with it was my first anniversary as Secretary of the Treasury. That in itself was remarkable. In my not so humble opinion I was the obvious selection based on my merits. Then there was this tiny thing that under normal circumstances would have made it impossible for me: I’m transgendered. Just for once that worked in my favor. The newly elected president needed to show how inclusive his administration was.