“Mr. Henry, You can’t!” I yell at the young man opposite me as he brandishes his gun.

“This man betrayed my family, left us for dead,” the man says. “He deserves no better than to die like the dog he is.”

“But he’s my father!” I plead.

“Then you are the daughter of a traitor,” the young man coldly says, pulling the trigger. A loud ‘pop’ and a flash of light fills the room, and the man standing next to me falls to the floor, clutching his chest.

“No! Father!” I yell, spreading my long, elaborate dress beneath me as I kneel down beside the stricken man.

“Tell your mother…” The older man whispers in a weak voice. “Tell her… I love you both… Henrietta…” I cry into the man’s chest as he lets out a weak death rattle and his body goes limp in my arms. Almost immediately, the lights in the theatre lower and the audience let out a rapturous round of applause. Under the cover of darkness, ‘father’ and I both stand up and exit the stage as the stagehands swap around the scenery for the next act of the play.

“Wonderful work,” Mrs. Ingram says, clapping as enthusiastically as the audience. “You were great out there Laura, you too, Craig!”

“Thanks, Mrs. Ingram,” Craig says, taking off the wig and jacket that make up ‘father’s costume. The two of us, our work done for the evening, watch the rest of the play from the wings, applauding with the rest of the audience as it reaches its conclusion when Phil- the boy playing Mr. Henry- delivers a strong, flawless monologue, before his character is beheaded for the murder of ‘my father’.

“If he’d shot my ‘real’ father I’d probably have kissed him,” I giggle as Craig and I repair our hair and costumes for the curtain call.

“Well, he’s still got that pistol,” the 15 year old boy laughs, before taking my hand and leading me out onto the stage, where- with my other hand linked with Phil’s- I and the rest of the cast take our bows before a standing ovation. I grin as I see my mother and grandmother in the audience, applauding harder than anyone.

After Mrs. Ingram makes a quick speech to the audience, thanking them all for attending, I head backstage to change out of my hot, heavy dress. It being a school production, I of course have to change by myself, away from either the boy’s or girl’s changing rooms, but I do at least have Nicole and Harriet helping me out.

“Oh my god,” Nicole gushes. “You were So COOL out there!”

“You were!” Harriet squeaks as she hands me my plain, knee-length blue dress that I pull over my head and smooth over my black tights. “I’d probably have frozen up out there…”

“No,” I say warmly. “You’re a great actress! And besides, once you’re in the costume, you forget all about who you used to be…” I sigh as I play with the hem of my dress, realising that what I said about acting applies just as much to my real life- the only difference being, of course, that I’m not ACTING at being a girl… I AM a girl. I smile a wicked smile as Harriet prepares to hang up the dress.

“Want to try it on?” I ask the ginger-haired girl, who giggles and gasps, before stripping out of her top and her jeans and- with mine and Nicole’s help- pulls on the voluminous gown, happily swishing it around her legs as I’d done hundreds of times in dress rehearsals, before reluctantly taking it off and changing back into her street clothes.

“My little megastar!” Mum greets me with a massive hug as I exit the disabled toilet in which I’d changed back into my dress. “You were so amazing out there!” Grandma also gives me a tight hug, which I accept a bit more, but my cheeks still burn with embarrassment as I hear Nicole and Harriet giggling good-naturedly behind my back.

“Watch out, Keira Knightley, there’s a new superstar actress in town!” Grandma chuckles. “Already got your Oscar acceptance speech written?”

“It’s just a school play…” I futilely whine as mum and Grandma hand me a small bouquet of flowers, which I cradle as they insist on taking what feels like a thousand photographs of me.

“Can I have your autograph?” Nicole giggles as she hands me a pen and a copy of the play’s programme. I giggles embarrassedly as I sign not only Nicole’s, but Harriet’s, mum’s and grandma’s programmes as well.

“Better get used to that, megastar!” Mum teases. The five of us start to head out of the theatre, when we’re interrupted by a call from behind us.

“Laura!” Phil’s familiar voice calls. “Hey, Laura!” I turn around and immediately grin goofily as Phil comes running up to me with a very familiar-looking older girl- his sister, perhaps- in tow.

“Hi Phil!” I say, my cheeks starting to redden as Nicole and Harriet’s giggling intensifies. “You were really, really good!”

“Thanks,” Phil says, blushing slightly. “Was, um, was that your first play?”

“Yeah,” I reply. “Um, was- was that yours?”

“Um, it was my second,” the dark-haired boy says, before his companion coughs expectantly. “Oh, um, sorry, um, this- this is my sister, Victoria…”

“Oh. My. God!” Nicole squeaks, immediately rushing forward and shaking the dark-haired girl’s hand. “I KNEW I recognised you! You- you’re Viks Brooks!”

“Hi, yes, yes, I am!” Victoria laughs tiredly.

“I can’t believe I’m shaking the hand of an Angel!” Nicole continues, her voice’s pitch creeping higher and higher.

“We study ballet with one of the Angels!” I laugh, but Nicole’s fanatical behaviour only intensifies.

“I know, I know, but this is so cool! I love you so much!” Nicole squeaks as Victoria looks more and more weary from the attention.

“Nicole!” Mum playfully reprimands, before herself shaking Victoria’s hand. “Hi, I’m Michelle White, Laura’s mum.”

“You’ve got a very talented daughter, Mrs. White,” Victoria says, making me blush even more as Nicole and Harriet giggle harder and harder. “I was planning on taking Phil out for dinner, to celebrate a job well done. You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like?”

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly…” Mum says, but Victoria only smiles even wider.

“I have several very large realty TV pay cheques burning a hole in my pocket,” Victoria says warmly. “I can more than afford one meal! Besides, it looks like Phil and Laura are hitting it off well…” I blush as the young woman teases me, making my friends- and family- giggle even more.

“Who am I to stand in the way of young love?” Mum laughs.

“Mum!” I say. “Stop embarrassing me!”

“Viks!” Phil hisses at the same time.

“Laura’s got a boyfriend…” Nicole teases in a sing-song voice as the seven of us head to dinner.

After a delicious, filling meal (that mum insisted on paying for part of) I find myself deep in conversation with Phil, whilst Nicole and Harriet listen intently to Victoria’s tales of her celebrity lifestyle.

“…And my parents don’t even know I was in the play at all,” Phil explains. “Hence why I’m here with Viks. My dad… He doesn’t really approve of anything that isn’t a 9-5 office job in the centre of the city.”

“How did he react when he found out his daughter was a reality TV star?” I giggle.

“He thinks it’s just a side job whilst Viks finishes her last year of uni,” Phil says. “My dad can be such an arsehole at times…”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I know the feeling…”

“Are- are you, um, not close to your dad?” Phil asks, sensing that he’s touching on a sensitive subject.

“Not really,” I say, nervously playing with my medium-length blonde hair. “He, um, doesn’t approve of me either…”

“Because of your acting?” Phil asks. “You also said you study ballet at Krystie’s school, I take it he doesn’t approve of that either?”

“I’m SURE he wouldn’t if he found out,” I laugh. “No, he, um…” I stammer as I try to finish my sentence. Over the last seven months, I’ve become so used to my ‘secret’ not actually being secret that I expected my reputation to precede me that I’d never have to reveal it to anyone… Especially not anyone as nice as Phil…

“Um,” I stutter. “You, um, you know the Angels, right?”

“One of them IS my sister,” Phil giggles.

“You, um, you know Jamie-Lee Burke?” I ask, and Phil nods. “Well, um, kinda that…”

“Oh my god,” Phil gasps, before a wide smile creeps over his face. “That’s so cool!”

“It’s not as cool as you think,” I sigh. “Especially not when you’re at school with people who disagree with you…” I quickly glance back at Harriet, who is now one of my best friends, but was for months one of my worst enemies.

“Yeah, but you know,” Phil stutters. “You and you’re friends, you- you’re like-“

“DON’T say ‘Little Angels’!” I say, making both myself and Phil giggle.

“No, but, um,” Phil stammers. “Do- do you have Facebook?”

“Yeah, yeah I do,” I say. “Can- can I add you when I get home?”

“Yeah, that’d be cool,” Phil says.

“Phil!” Victoria shouts, snapping the two of us back to attention. “Come on, you’ve got school tomorrow…”

“So have you three girls,” mum says firmly. I sigh and smile one last time at Phil as he leaves with his sister, whilst I pile onto the back seat of mum’s car with Nicole and Harriet.

“’Laura’s got a boyfriend’…” Nicole teases, making me cringe and Harriet giggle.

“I do not have a boyfriend!” I plead.

“Too right you don’t, you’re only twelve!” Grandma says.

“Boys are… Yucky, anyway,” Harriet laughs.

“Heh, you won’t be saying that in a few years’ time, young lady!” Grandma laughs- but I can’t help but remember that less than twelve months ago, anyone looking at me would’ve thought I’d grow up to have a girlfriend, and I happen to know for a fact that Harriet’s started puberty…

After dropping Nicole, Harriet and grandma at their respective homes, mum and I arrive home shortly after 9pm, and with the last term of the school year starting tomorrow, I head straight to bed (after secretly nibbling at one of my Easter Eggs, of course!).

The following morning, I wake up at 7:30am, and, as usual, wash, take my boy-blocker, eat breakfast and dress in my trusty white blouse, grey tights and pleated grey school skirt. The first time I put this uniform on, it was exciting, a first step into a new, unknown world… But now, it’s different. It’s normal, everyday… Sometimes it’s even boring to wear a skirt to school. However, I know I’d never be comfortable in anything else, a feeling that’s reinforced as I arrive at the school gate to be greeted by my five friends, who are all also dressed in white blouses, grey tights and grey skirts.

“Hi Laura!” Suriya squeaks. “Or should I say ‘superstar’?” I blush as the six of us head into school, my cheeks only getting redder as Nicole speaks up.

“I’m sure PHIL thinks she’s a superstar!” The brown-haired girl teases.

“Who’s ‘Phil’?” Priya asks with a sly grin. “Is he Laura’s boyfriend?”

“No,” I say.

“Yes,” Harriet and Nicole say at the same time as me, giggling loudly.

“He’s the guy who played Mr. Henry,” Nicole explains. “Goes to a school a couple of miles away. AND may or may not be the little brother of one Miss Victoria Brooks of ‘The Angels’ fame…”

“Oh my god, that’s so cool!” Priya squeaks, giving me a tight squeeze. “Are we going to see our little Laura popping up in the tabloids in a few months’ time then?”

“NO,” I say firmly. “We’re just friends…”

“For now…” Harriet giggles. With the pressure and nerves of the play out of the way, the school day passes quickly. As it’s the first day of the new term, we’re starting work on new topics, meaning that the workload (and, thankfully, the homework) is relatively light, so at lunch we’re all in good spirits as we eat our meals- all of us except one, anyway.

“Hey Megan,” I say to the frowning, bespectacled girl as Nicole entertains Priya, Suriya and Harriet with tales of her close encounter with an Angel. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Megan sighs, but I can immediately tell that she’s lying.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask, making Megan sigh again and lower her head.

“Just need to use the loo,” Megan says. I immediately recognise the hint and stand up at the same time as my friend.

“Laura, are you allowed to go into the girls’ toilets?” Priya asks.

“Oh, who’s going to notice?” I shrug, following Megan into the clean light orange room. Much to my relief, despite it being lunch, there are no other girls around who might report my ‘trespassing’.

“So,” I ask Megan, “what’s up?”

“You’re going to think I’m silly,” Megan moans as she washes her hands.

“Megan, you’re my oldest friend!” I giggle. “You know if something’s wrong, you can tell me, right?”

“I just… Feel like I don’t belong with you guys,” Megan sighs, making me frown with concern.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Well you’re this big actress now with a celebrity boyfriend,” Megan says, continuing before I have a chance to interrupt. “You spend most of your time hanging out with Nicole and Suriya at drama club, Priya’s not even in our year, and Harriet…”

“What about Harriet?” I ask.

“I don’t trust her,” Megan says in an ashamed voice. “I don’t know why you do.”

“She’s changed,” I say. “You saw what her dad was like, you’ve met her mum…”

“I just… I don’t know,” Megan sighs. “I just feel like you guys are leaving me out, that’s all.”

“You’re talking to ME about feeling left out?” I giggle. “Remember who you’re talking to?” I smile as Megan lets out a small giggle.

“Yeah, I guess…” Megan says.

“And if you feel left out,” I say, “then we’ll have to do more to make you feel like you’re part of the group!”

“Um, how, exactly?” Megan asks as I lead her back to the lunch table (checking first that no one noticed us exiting the toilets).

“We’ll think of something,” I say smugly as I sit down at the table, where Nicole is STILL going on about the Angels…

As I head to class with Nicole, Suriya and Harriet, I tell them about the conversation with Megan- and all three girls immediately agree that we need to do something to cheer her up.

“Why does she feel so left out?” Suriya asks. “Is it because she’s in a different class?”

“So’s your sister,” Nicole says. “Has she said anything about feeling left out?”

“Nothing to me,” Suriya says.

“I don’t mean anything nasty by this,” I say cautiously, “but why DOES Priya hang out with us when she’s in year 8?”

“Ugh,” Suriya sighs. “She… She had a hard time fitting in here last year.”

“You’re not the only Indian kids in school though,” Harriet points out.

“True,” Suriya says. “But Priya… She kinda had a hard time fitting in with the other kids in her year, attracted the attention of a few bullies… I think she was counting down the days until I started and she had someone to hang around with.” I look at Harriet as Suriya makes mention of her sister being bullied, and it’s clear from the ginger girl’s face that the words are having an impact on her.

“Was Megan picked on much at primary school?” Nicole asks me.

“Not really,” I say. “Me and her are the only girls from our ‘gang’ who came here, though, so that probably doesn’t help.”

“I can’t have helped either,” Harriet sighs. “When I picked on you… I used to pick on her as well.” I can immediately tell from Harriet’s eyes just how much shame she feels for her actions.

“That- that was your dad…” Suriya mumbles, clearly uncomfortable with Harriet’s ‘confession’.

“Subject change!” Nicole says. “Everyone ready for ballet tomorrow AND Thursday?”

“I can’t believe I got my mum to agree to let me go twice a week!” I giggle.

“Or I got my mum to agree to let me go at all!” Harriet laughs- but I can tell that her laugh is disguising how she really feels about having been our tormentor for the past few months. I can well understand where Megan’s coming from when she says she doesn’t trust Harriet. I’ve forgiven her, but I’ve not forgotten what she said and what she did, and I doubt I ever will. And if she’s been picking on Megan… As an only child, Megan’s always felt isolated, and seeing me, Nicole and Suriya hanging out with Harriet like we’ve always been friends can only rub it in further.

All throughout my final lesson of the day- English- I can’t help but worry about Megan, and when I leave school at the end of the day, I make a point of walking with her to her mum’s car.

“I can’t wait for it to be June so I don’t have to wear tights to school,” I giggle as I straighten my stretchy grey legwear.

“This time last year you’d have given anything to be able to wear tights to school!” Megan giggles.

“Very true!” I say. “Megan… Are you okay?” My insides start to sink as I see Megan gaze over at Harriet getting in her mum’s car.

“I’ll be okay,” Megan sighs. “See you tomorrow, Laura.” I sigh sadly as I get in my mum’s car, unconsciously smoothing my skirt underneath me as I sit down.

“Everything okay?” Mum asks as we head home.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Well… Megan’s kinda unhappy at the moment.”

“What’s up with her?” Mum asks with genuine concern.

“I dunno,” I reply. “I think she’s still a bit unhappy that we’ve let Harriet back into the group, she used to pick on Megan as much as she picked on me, and because she’s in a different form she feels we’re excluding her…”

“She still goes to ballet with you, doesn’t she?” Mum asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “But that’s like, only two hours a week.”

“Megan’s a bright girl,” Mum muses. “VERY bright.”

“She’s also very sensitive,” I sigh. “I want to do something, something special for Megan to show her how much she means to me, to all of us. She’s my oldest friend, I hardly saw her over Easter…”

“That’s because you were rehearsing for your play,” mum chuckles. “And it WAS her birthday last month, you can’t throw her a party every month now, can you?”

“I know,” I moan as we head home. I while away the evening doing my homework and chatting with all my friends on Facebook- all apart from Megan, that is, who doesn’t come online at any point.

The following day, after washing and dressing in my school uniform, I grin as I lay out my ballet uniform- including a brand new light blue leotard, as paid for by Harriet- on my chair, ready for tonight. It doesn’t take long before I’m stood at the school gates, being greeted by my five friends as we head into the vast building, our skirts lightly blowing around our legs in the gentle spring wind.

“Girls,” Nicole announces as we sit down at our usual form desk, “I’ve been thinking about what you said about Megan yesterday.”

“I have too,” Harriet says. “It’s my fault that she’s miserable… I can always hang out with someone else at lunch.”

“No, don’t do that!” Suriya pleads. “I like hanging out with ‘Good Harriet’!”

“Aww, thanks!” Harriet beams. “And don’t worry, ‘Evil Harriet’, like my ‘evil dad’, is gone for good!” The four of us all giggle as Mr. Sheldon arrives and gets the brief form period under way. As the day goes on, I can’t help but notice a grin start to grow on Harriet’s face, a knowing grin that undoubtedly says that she has an idea, a plan she refuses to share with the rest of us- at least, until lunch, when the four of us approach the table where Megan and Priya are already sat, eating their meal.

“Pray, Miss Cooper,” I say in my perfected ‘Miss Patrick’ voice. “Have you seen Miss Cartman anywhere? I do so miss when she’s not around…”

“Laura, what are you doing?” Megan asks, confused by my unusual behaviour.

“I believe Miss Cartman is taking lunch in the parlour,” Harriet replies in her equally theatrical voice.

“Miss Cooper, Miss White,” Nicole says, flouncing up to myself and Harriet. “Pray, who are we discussing? Is it Miss Cartman? Oh, I do miss her so…”

“Oh, stop it you guys!” Megan says, though the giggle in her voice tells me that in reality, she’s loving every second of our ‘performance’.

“Miss Malik!” I beam as Suriya flounces up to us. “Pray, have you seen Miss Cartman today at all?” Rolling her eyes, Megan stands up and address the four of us in the same overly-theatrical voice we’d been using.

“Miss White!” Megan exclaims. “Miss Wyatt, Miss Malik, Miss Cooper! What such a pleasant surprise to find you all in the parlour!” Before anyone can say another word, the five of us break down in fits of giggles, bringing our ‘performance’ to an end.

“You girls are so silly!” Priya laughs as we sit down.

“I’ll take that as a compliment!” Suriya says, playfully sticking her tongue out at her sister.

“It was meant as one,” Priya laughs.

“If that was meant to make me feel better,” Megan sighs, before giggling. “Yeah, it worked.” The entire table cheers and gives Megan a group hug, before we settle back down to eat our lunch. Almost as I finish eating, though, Megan once again calls me into the girls’ toilets with her.

“It’s clear,” Megan says as we sneak into the clean room. “Laura… I DO appreciate what you tried to do for me there. It’s just, um…” Much to my surprise, Megan then opens her school bag and produces a small, white package that is unmistakably a sanitary pad. My eyes go wide as Megan takes the small item into a toilet cubicle, emerging a minute later and- after straightening her skirt and her tights- disposing of the old one in one of the toilet’s bins.

“Oh,” I whisper as I follow Megan back to our lunch table. “Have you- have you, you know, for long?”

“Not long,” Megan whispers. “I’d- I’d prefer not to talk about it, and I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell the others, especially not Harriet…”

“Of course,” I say, smiling warmly as Megan giggles before sitting down.

“So Laura,” Nicole teases. “Have you heard anything from PHIL lately?”

“Yeah,” Megan giggles. “You’re the first of us to get a boyfriend, so spill!”

“I haven’t spoken to him since Monday,” I say, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Then get chatting!” Nicole says, before breaking into s sing-song voice. “’Laura’s got a boyfriend’…” I sigh as the rest of the table joins in teasing me- but even though the singing is attracting stares, I don’t mind it, not one bit- it just means that I’m one of the girls, just as I always dreamed of being.

I treasure the moments when I’m able to forget that I’ve ever been a boy, and those moments come more and more frequently when I’m at school, with my skirt draped over my crossed legs, just like my friends in my final lesson of the day. With my mind filled with thoughts of the work I’m doing, of hanging out with my friends, of my ballet lesson tonight- and yes, thoughts of Phil too- I’ve never felt more contented in myself, but my contentment comes crashing down when Mrs. Keller, my teacher, approached my desk with an urgent message.

“Laura,” Mrs. Keller says in a sombre voice. “You need to go to Mrs. Houghton’s office immediately. Pack your things and take your bag with you, please.”

“What’s wrong?” I ask, my brain immediately switching to panic mode. Was I spotted going into and out of the girls’ toilets with Megan? Has the school decided to stop letting me be a girl? Has someone made up a story to get me in trouble?

“I can’t say here,” Mrs. Keller says. “But you’re not in trouble.” Nodding, I pack my bag and say a quick goodbye to my friends.

My mind is a blur as I walk down the long corridor to the headteacher’s door, which I meekly knock on, my heart beating faster and faster as Mrs. Houghton takes her time before answering.

“Laura, hi,” Mrs. Houghton says in a soft, sympathetic voice. “Come in, please.” I slowly walk into the office and sit down in one of the soft leather chairs, unconsciously smoothing my skirt over my legs.

“I’ve had a phone call from your mother,” Mrs. Houghton explains. “It’s your grandmother… She was rushed to hospital this morning. I’m very sorry, Laura, your mum’s on her way to pick you up now.” My jaw drops and I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach as I’m told the news. With the exception of my mum, no one’s been more supportive of my ‘change’ than grandma... I can’t lose her now, just as she’s getting to know her granddaughter…

I give my mum- who’s obviously been crying- a big hug as I get in her car and she drives me straight to the hospital. We don’t exchange a word until we step onto the word where grandma is being treated, where we both breathe a sigh of relief when we see that the old woman is conscious and aware- albeit with a LOT of tubes sticking out of her.

“Oh, mum,” my mum whispers in a quivering voice as we sit down at grandma’s bedside.

“Hello Michelle,” grandma says in a weak, croaky voice. “Hi Laura! I hope… I hope they didn’t get you out of school…”

“Don’t try to talk too much,” mum says, making grandma let out a tired, annoyed grunt that makes me smile- despite her current state, she’s still the same old grandma.

“Are you Michelle White?” A man in a white coat- obviously a doctor- asks my mum.

“Yes,” mum says expectantly. “What’s happened to my mum?”

“’Your mum’ is laying right here and can talk for herself!” Grandma insists, though the weakness of her voice suggests otherwise.

“Please, Mrs. White, you need to rest,” the Doctor says to grandma, who simply grunts again.

“Mrs. White collapsed whilst out shopping,” the doctor explains. “An ambulance was called, and we found that she’s suffered a mild cardiac incident. We’ve put her on a nutrient drip, though it will be a good few days before she’s strong enough to be discharged.”

“She had a heart attack?” Mum asks with clear panic in her voice.

“’Cardiac incident’!” Grandma snaps. “I haven’t had a heart attack!”

“Regardless, you need to rest,” the Doctor tells grandma, who nods her head. “You’re not going to get better constantly arguing with everyone!”

“Yes, yes,” grandma tiredly concedes. “Doesn’t mean my daughter and granddaughter can’t tell me about their days, though! Laura, was it your ballet class yesterday?”

“Actually it’s today,” I say, smiling as grandma’s usual character starts shining through the mass of tubes attached to her- it’s almost as if her strength has doubled merely by having mum and myself in the same room.

“And you’re making her miss it to come here?” Grandma admonishes mum.

“Well, um, I-“ Mum stammers.

“I don’t mind,” I say. “I can miss the odd one or two. This is more important.”

“Well you’re not missing it on my account!” Grandma states firmly. “Do a couple of steps for me now!” This time, it’s my turn to stammer.

“Oh- um, here, in the hospital, in front of everyone?” I say nervously.

“I’m not asking for the whole of Swan Lake, just a couple of steps!” Grandma says, a cheeky smile creeping across her thin, cracked lips. Shaking nervously, I stand up and take off my school blazer, before raising my arms above my head and stretching my legs into a perfect fifth position. I do a couple of steps, making grandma weakly clap her hands with delight. Relieved, I take this as my cue to sit back down.

“Very good!” Grandma says warmly. “You are a talented ballerina!” I blush slightly as grandma compliments me and open my mouth to talk, before I’m interrupted by a loud, rude voice from behind.

“Why is that BOY wearing a skirt?” An old woman in a bed opposite grandma’s shouts, attracting the attention of everyone on the ward. I look at my mum, whose eyes have gone wide, but neither of us know how to respond.

“You! Boy! Answer me!” The old woman persists, her voice getting angrier and angrier. “Why are you wearing a skirt?” I turn round to look at the shouting woman, only for her eyes to instantly lock with mine.

“Yes! You!” The old woman snaps. “Why are you wearing a skirt?”

“I- I’m a girl,” I meekly reply, withering under the fierce old woman’s gaze.

“Don’t be stupid, you’re obviously a boy!” The old woman spits. “Now go and change into some trousers! Go on, change! Now!” I shudder under the verbal barrage from the old woman and look to grandma for support, but much to my dismay, she’s fallen asleep- most likely due to the drugs she’s being pumped full of.

“We should go,” mum says.

“That’s right!” The old woman snaps. “Take the BOY out of here until he learns how to dress properly!” Tears well in my eyes as we walk back through the hospital, and I finally break down once I get back in the car, prompting mum to give me a big hug.

“Come on, let it out,” mum advises.

“Why do people have to be so nasty?” I sob. “What’s it got to do with that old bat what I wear?”

“Some people just think they’re more important than they actually are,” mum sighs. “You know I’ll always love you and be on your side, so will your grandma.”

“For as long as she’s alive,” I whimper, making mum hug me tighter and shed a couple of tears herself.

Even though we arrive back at home with just enough time for me to change for ballet, I opt not to go- my heart really isn’t in it, what with grandma being in hospital and my latest encounter with the bigots of Great Britain. After doing what little homework I can manage, I climb into bed and quickly fall into a dreamless sleep.

The following morning I wake up and pull on my school uniform as usual, but as my skirt swishes around my tights-covered legs, I don’t feel the usual sense of excitement I get at the start of a school day, instead I feel very, very self-conscious. Even as I’m greeted by my identically-dressed friends at the school gate, I feel out of place. Consciously, I know that I blend in with the other girls, easily disappearing into the crowd, but subconsciously, it’s harder than ever to forget that underneath my skirt, underneath my tights and girls’ panties… I’m very, very different to them.

“We missed you at ballet last night,” Nicole says as we sit down in form. “Is everything okay?”

“My grandma’s in hospital,” I moan.

“Oh no,” Suriya says, giving me a quick hug. “Is- is she okay?”

“She has a problem with her heart,” I say. “The doctors say she’ll be okay, but…”

“Then believe the doctors!” Nicole says.

“Are you and your grandma close?” Harriet asks cautiously.

“She’s the only person other than my mum who’s supported my change,” I sigh.

“Excuse me?” Nicole says, pointing at herself, Harriet and Suriya. “Not the ONLY person by a long way!” I giggle happily as Mr. Sheldon arrives to start the lesson, and as the day progresses, my friends go out of their way to make me feel better, just as we’d done for Megan yesterday. My five friends even dance an impromptu ballet routine at lunch- which I of course get roped into joining! What makes me smile most isn’t the dancing, though, but the fact that all five of my friends are getting on like they’d be friends their whole lives, with none of the tension that usually exists between Megan, Priya and Harriet threatening to ruin the moment.

By the time the bell rings to signal the end of the school day, my smile is back on my face… Though I still feel self-conscious as I climb into my mum’s car.

“Are we going to see grandma before or after dinner?” I ask, silently dreading another confrontation with the old woman who’d tormented me yesterday.

“We’re not going today,” mum says. “Your grandmother said- quite specifically- that you’re not to miss any more ballet lessons, and also said- and I quote- ‘you’re to change into your leotard the second you finish eating’. I told her you wouldn’t need much persuading- am I right?”

“Yep!” I say with a happy smile. “Is she feeling better, then?”

“Yes,” mum says in a relieved voice. “She says she feels stronger every hour, and the doctors are taking her off her drip tomorrow.”

“Thank god,” I sigh.

“Though…” Mum says. “She feels really, really bad about that old woman who said those nasty things about you yesterday.”

“Why should she feel bad? She’s not the one who said them,” I say.

“That’s what I told her,” mum says. “But still, she feels she could’ve done more to stick up for you…”

“She’s ill,” I say. “She should concentrate on getting better first.”

“Have you ever tried arguing with your grandma?” Mum asks, making us both giggle happily as we drive home. As ordered, the second I finish my dinner I head upstairs and change into my ballet uniform, which had lain untouched since I left it out yesterday morning. As I stretch the snug blue leotard over my body, I feel more self-conscious than ever about my undeniably male body, but when I look in the mirror, all I see is a pre-teen girl, the same as all the other girls who I’ll see at class this evening.

Once I arrive at class, I’m immediately greeted by my teacher, who has a concerned look on her face.

“Hi Laura,” Miss Fullerton says. “I noticed you weren’t at class yesterday, your friends have told me that your grandmother’s unwell, is that right?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “She was rushed into hospital yesterday after a mild heart attack.”

“Oh no,” my teacher says with genuine concern. “Is she going to be okay? I’ll totally understand if you’d rather be there than here.”

“No, she’s recovering,” I say. “She actually insisted that I come to class tonight and threatened me with a telling-off if I didn’t!” I giggle as Miss Fullerton throws her head back and lets out a long, loud laugh at my tale.

“Your gran sounds awesome!” Miss Fullerton giggles. “Come on, let’s get into class, you’ve got a bit of catching up to do!” I smile and nod as I follow my teacher into the studio and take my place at the barre alongside my friends, all of whom greet me as ‘Laura the girl’- as do the other girls in the class. Not ‘Laura the girl who used to be a boy’, or ‘Laura the girl who is really a boy’, just ‘Laura the girl’. Miss Fullerton’s right- my grandmother IS awesome, but so are all my friends.

When I arrive home I’m tired from the evening’s dancing, too tired to even change, but I find enough time to switch on my tablet computer, and I smile as I see a message I’d been waiting for- ‘Phil Brooks accepted your friend request’- and he’s already sent me a few messages too!

‘Hi Laura,’ the first message reads, making me smile a goofy grin.

‘Hi Phil,’ I reply. ‘How’s you?’

‘Good, thanks,’ Phil replies. ‘Hey, um, do you watch Jeremy Kyle?’ I frown at the unusual question- the answer to which should be obvious.

‘Umm, no,’ I reply. ‘9:25 I’m in school, same as you!’

‘Yeah, I know,’ Phil types. ‘But, um, there was a guest on today who I think you might be interested in. Do you have iPlayer?’

‘Yeah,’ I reply. ‘What’s so interesting about this guest?’

‘You’ll see,’ Phil types.

After chatting with Phil a little more, he finally insists that I watch the show, so I close down my Facebook app and open up the ITV catch-up app, loading the episode from this morning.

“Welcome to the show,” the presenter says after the opening credits have finished rolling. “My first guest today says her grandparents have disowned her because- get this- they refuse to accept that she’s transgendered and insist that she goes back to living as a boy! Nikki’s on the Jeremy Kyle Show!” I watch as the terrified looking girl walks out onto the stage and coolly sits down in the fancy leather chair. In her tight top- showing off obvious breasts- and black skirt, there's no way I would've thought that she was ever a boy. No doubt that old woman at the hospital would've, though...

After Jeremy chats with Nikki for a bit, her father comes on stage and, much to my surprise, gives Nikki a loving, fatherly hug before sitting down next to her. When I look at the pride in Chris's (Nikki's father's) eyes, I can't help but blink back tears when I remember the look in the eyes of my own father the last time he looked upon me, and the tears start to flow as Chris starts talking about how proud he is of his daughter. When Steven- Nikki's grandfather- walks out on stage, I actually feel sorry for the man as he encounters a shower of boos, but when he turns his back on his child and grandchild, I feel nothing but anger for him.

“HE is not a girl,” the old man yells. “HE never will be, and HE needs to stop prancing around like a-" The end of Steven's sentence is censored by a loud beep, but whatever it was, it can't have been complimentary, and to say that about his own granddaughter- a defenseless seventeen year old girl...

Even after Steven is given the chance to put his side across- that all he wants is his grandson back- I feel no sympathy for him, but I do feel blessed that I've received the support that I have from my own grandparent. Eventually, the three family members start to talk as the family that they are, and Steven even apologises to Nikki, but I can't help but feel that their story isn't headed for a happy ending.

After Nikki, her dad and her granddad leave the stage, I close down the episode as I don’t really need (or want!) to watch the rest of it. I feel sorry for the 17 year old girl, the way she was spoken to by her grandfather, but at the same time, the way her father unconditionally accepted her… I am envious, deeply envious that she’s so close to the man who should- and, in fairness, clearly does- support her the most. Blinking tears out of my eyes, I head downstairs and sit down next to mum on her sofa, giving her a big hug.

“Whoa!” Mum laughs, returning my hug. “What’s this for?”

“For always being there for me,” I say. “I know how lucky I am, to have you and grandma… Not all girls like me are as lucky.”

“What’s prompted this?” Mum asks, and I smile with embarrassment as I load up the segment from the Jeremy Kyle Show that I’d just watched.

“Poor girl,” mum says after I close the iPlayer app. “I hope you’ll have more sense than to ever air your dirty laundry on national TV! Still though, at least it tells you what Doctor Williamson’s told you all along: You. Are. Not. Alone.”

“Do you reckon Dr Williamson knows this Nikki girl? I think she said she was from London…” I muse.

“It’s still a thousand-to-one shot,” mum says. “Why, planning on writing her a fan letter?”

“I-“ I say, before giggling as I realise I have no answer to my mum’s question. “I dunno. I should do my homework…”

“Go on,” mum says, laughing as I skip back upstairs in my leotard. After homework, I reluctantly strip out of my ballet uniform and climb into bed, quickly falling into a deep sleep.

“Laura’s on the Jeremy Kyle Show!” The TV presenter announces, and I nervously walk out onto the stage, only to be bombarded with a shower of boos from the audience, all of whom are either old women looking at me with disapproval, or my father, shouting obscenities at me. I sit down in the leather chair and suddenly I feel very small, shrinking further into myself as the chair grows and threatens to consume me…

I wake with a yell and take several deep breaths to calm myself down, before laying back onto my sweat-stained sheets. I briefly fall asleep again as I’m woken up by my alarm clock shortly after 7:30. After breakfast & my boy-blocker, I pull on my school uniform for the final time this week, this time feeling a LOT more confident in my skin despite my nightmare’s best efforts.

“Hi Laura!” Nicole squeaks happily, greeting me at the school gates with a quick hug. “How’s your grandma doing?”

“Much better, thanks,” I say with a smile. “We’re going to visit her tonight…”

“You don’t sound too happy about that,” Suriya says with a confused giggle.

“Ugh,” I spit as we enter the form room. “It’s… She’s on a ward full of old women, and you know how they are, instantly able to realise there’s something ‘wrong’ with me…”

“There is nothing ‘wrong’ with you!” Nicole insists, giving me another quick hug.

“Try telling that to the old bags on grandma’s ward!” I snort.

“Bring us along when you see your grandmother and we will!” Harriet says. I giggle, but the look in her eyes tells me that she- along with Nicole and Suriya- are deadly serious about their offer.

“Umm,” I say. “That… That might get a little crowded…” The four of us descend into a fit of giggles that only stops when Mr. Sheldon gets the lesson underway. Even though it’s Friday and everyone is visibly winding down after a long week, I still put maximum effort into my work, and by lunchtime, I’m all but completely exhausted, and barely able to pay attention to Nicole’s detailed analysis of every article in the latest issue of Teen Globe magazine- which I’d read myself anyway. I briefly think about talking about yesterday’s Jeremy Kyle Show with the girls, but none of them are likely to have watched it- and I don’t want any reminders of last night’s nightmare- so I sit back and listen to Nicole as she moves on from Teen Globe and starts talking about her latest adventures on the school’s gymnastics team- making me envious as I’m reminded that no matter how good I might be at any sport (and I’m not bad at any of them), I’ll never be allowed to join any of the school’s teams.

After lunch and the final lesson of the day, I slump my weary body down in the passenger seat of mum’s car, chuckling as mum smiles at me.

“We’re going to head straight to see grandma, is that okay?” Mum says as we drive away.

“Okay,” I sigh. “I mean, obviously I want to see her, but I’m really tired, and…”

“…You don’t want to have to deal with any nasty people,” mum says. “I know, I really do… But I’ll be there, and grandma will be there too. You have NOTHING to worry about. And you definitely won’t have to change out of your skirt!”

“Believe it or not, my friends actually offered to come along to back me up,” I laugh. “Should’ve taken them up on their offer…”

“Your grandmother had a heart attack,” mum says with a chuckle. “Last thing she needs is six excitable pre-teen girls crowding around her!” I giggle as we drive into the centre of the city, and toward the hospital where grandma is being treated.

When I arrive on grandma’s ward, I smile widely when I see her sitting up in bed, freed of most of the tubes that had been sticking into her on Wednesday.

“Hi mum!” My mum says to grandma, who smiles widely when she sees the two of us.

“Michelle! Laura! What a lovely surprise!” Grandma beams. “You’d better not be missing any more school, young lady!”

“No, and I went to ballet last night too!” I say with a smug smile that makes grandma chuckle.

“Good!” Grandma says. “Show me a few steps!” I giggle and stand with my hands and feet in first position, but before I’m able to do any steps, the same woman who’d insulted me on Wednesday speaks up again.

“Why has that BOY been let back in wearing a skirt?” The old woman crows. “Get that CROSSDRESSER off this ward!” Mum and I both open our mouths to reply, but before either of us can say a word, grandma speaks up.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO MY BEAUTIFUL GRANDDAUGHTER LIKE THAT!” Grandma bellows, stunning the entire ward into silence. “My Laura is a wonderful, talented and kind young woman, and you owe her an apology!”

“No!” The old woman shouts with an evil laugh in her voice. “He’s a boy, just look at him! I won’t stay in a hospital that allows people like him in its doors!”

“Then you had better leave, hadn’t you?” Grandma says smugly.

“No!” The other old woman stubbornly shouts. “HE should leave!”

“Mrs. Walker,” a recently-summoned nurse says to the old woman. “You need to calm down, you’re upsetting the other patients.”

“HE’s upsetting me by prancing around in a skirt!” Mrs. Walker says, pointing a wrinkled finger straight at my face.

“No she isn’t,” the nurse says, and I can’t help but grin as the kind young woman doesn’t even entertain Mrs. Walker’s prejudices by referring to me as male. “You need to get some rest, you’re just going to make yourself worse if you keep exciting yourself like this.”

“HE’s going to make me worse!” Mrs. Walker insists, but her arguments are muffled as the nurse draws the curtain around her bed, cutting her off from the rest of the ward, who all chuckle as her arguments grow more and more faint.

“Now,” grandma says with a smug face having won the argument, “I believe you were going to do some dancing for me?” I smile as I extend my arms and delight the entire ward- with the exception of Mrs. Walker- with my dancing, despite it being riddled with errors thanks to my tiredness!

“Beautiful AND graceful,” grandma says as I sit back down and straighten my tights. “Laura, I know you don’t normally watch shows like this, but yesterday on the Jeremy Kyle Show…”

“We’ve already seen it,” mum says with a smile.

“I just want you to know,” grandma says, “that if your granddad was still alive, there’s no way he would’ve behaved like that disgraceful man did yesterday. I wouldn’t have let him!” I giggle as grandma segues into tales about her younger days before she and granddad were married, which entertain my mum and myself until we’re asked to leave an hour later by the same kind nurse who’d earlier isolated Mrs. Walker.

“Thank you for what you did,” I say to the dark-skinned woman as mum and I leave.

“She was disrupting the ward,” the nurse says. “All you were doing was sitting there.”

“Take good care of my grandma, okay?” I say, making the nurse laugh and nod.

After a light takeaway meal, we arrive back home, where I change from my school uniform into a comfortable (but slouchy) long-sleeved dress and finish off the last of my homework for the week, before getting to bed early as I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Jeremy Kyle announces to a packed audience, “please welcome prima ballerina Laura White!” As the Jeremy Kyle Show studio melts into a huge theatre packed with a cheering audience, I dance onto stage in a beautiful pink tutu and shiny satin pointe shoes, performing a routine that leaves the audience in tears…

I wake with a smile on my face, not just because of the dream, but because it’s Saturday and I get to spend the whole of the day with my friends. I dress in a plain pink top, black denim skirt and translucent black tights before heading downstairs, where Mrs. Cooper picks me up a few minutes later.

“Hey Laura!” Nicole says, greeting me with a hug as I join her and Megan on the back seat of Mrs. Cooper’s car. “Did you hear? One of Miss Fullerton’s adult students was on the Jeremy Kyle Show on Thursday!”

“Really?” I ask. Is this Nikki they’re talking about? What a small world…

“Yeah,” Megan says. “Apparently, she was, you know, a, um…”

“A ‘girl like me’?” I ask. “I know, I saw, isn’t it cool? I didn’t realise she was a ballerina too…”

“ALL boys should be ballerinas!” Nicole giggles.

“Yeah, but what about me?” I ask. “I’m not a boy, I’m a GIRL!” The three of us giggle as we drive to Harriet’s house, where we meet up with Priya, Suriya and the ginger-haired girl herself for a day of dancing, listening to music and playing with clothes and make-up- the same thing I’ve done virtually every weekend since September, but I only enjoy it more and more every time I hang out with my friends like this. Even though my thoughts are preoccupied with my ailing grandmother, I’m satisfied that she’s recovering- recovering enough to tell me that under no circumstances should I interrupt my fun today to go and visit her!

As much as I treasure the support of my grandma, my mum and my friends, I know that there will always be people out there like my dad, like Mrs. Walker or Nikki’s granddad, people unable to overcome their prejudices to accept me for the girl I truly am inside. But I know now that people like that don’t matter. Their opinions aren’t important unless I choose them to be, and I’ve made the choice to ignore anyone who wants to drag me down or force me to be someone I don’t want to be. It doesn’t matter how old they are, how important they think they are or even if they’re related to me- it’s how I feel about myself that matters the most.

And right now, dressed in a cute skirt, wearing pink nail polish and a face full of make-up and dancing with my friends? I feel pretty, pretty good.