Ethan made his way downstairs for dinner, taking in the warm scent of tomato sauce and melted cheese. As he reached the dining room, he hesitated for a moment before sitting across from the woman at the table. His plate was empty, but the woman quickly filled it.

"Chicken parm," she said with a smile. "I know it's your favorite."

Ethan paused. Is it? he thought to himself. He forced a smile anyway. "Oh, thanks!" he said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

The woman placed a serving onto his plate and sat down. As they started eating, she looked up at him. "So, what are the kids at Bremerton like? Are they friendly?"

Ethan chewed slowly, considering his response. If his plan was going to work, he needed to start acting like he thought Olivia would. He smiled and nodded. "Yeah, they're friendly! Especially this one girl, Tiffany. She's really nice."

He took another bite, the chicken parm tasted like... just chicken parm. Definitely not anything special.

"I think Tiffany and I could become really good friends!" he added, trying to sound excited and bubbly.

The woman beamed. "That's great to hear. I know a big move like this can be tough, especially for a teenage girl, but having a friend will make all the difference."

Ethan reassured her with a bright smile. "I think it's going to be alright. I have a good feeling about Tiffany."

They ate in silence for a few moments before the woman's gaze drifted to his chest. "Did you go to school without a bra again?" she asked, her tone firm. "You know I don't like it when you do things like that. I know you young girls are all about that now, but I don't care what you think—it is just not classy."

Ethan's stomach twisted. A bra? Of course. It hadn't even crossed his mind when he got dressed that morning. He scrambled to respond in a way Olivia might. "Whatever," he said. "It's really not that deep."

The woman shook her head disapprovingly but said nothing more. The atmosphere remained tense, so Ethan quickly changed the subject. "Do we have any plans this weekend?"

"Why do you ask?" she asked, eyeing him curiously. "Are you making plans with Tiffany already?"

"Oh... no, no!" he said quickly. "I was just curious."

The woman smiled. "Well, I was going to wait to tell you but since you're asking, I booked us a mani-pedi Saturday morning to celebrate our first week in Washington. I thought a nice little mother-daughter outing is what we'll need after this week."

Ethan's stomach sank. That was the last thing he wanted to do. But, once again, he forced himself to react how he thought Olivia would. "Oh my gosh, that sounds amazing!" he gushed.

The woman smiled approvingly as they finished dinner.

Afterward, she motioned toward his plate. "Rinse that and put it in the dishwasher. Just because we're in a new house doesn't mean your chores have changed. You still have to turn on the dishwasher, empty it, and clean the upstairs bathroom. And don't forget to shower before nine—I don't want the noise keeping me up."

Good to know, Ethan thought as he followed her instructions.

He thanked her for dinner and headed back to Olivia's room. As soon as he shut the door, his posture sagged. Dropping onto his bed, he reflected on what he had learned about Olivia: chicken parm was apparently her favorite, she was responsible for the dishes and bathroom, and—oh yeah—she is supposed to wear a bra but sometimes doesn't as some kind of feminist statement or something.

The thought of keeping track of all these details made his head spin. If he slipped up, it could ruin everything. He needed a system. His eyes landed on Olivia's diary, and an idea clicked into place. If he wrote everything down, he wouldn't forget.

He grabbed the diary and flipped to a new page.

Dear Diary,

Today was my first day at Bremerton, and it was... interesting. The kids seem nice, especially a girl named Tiffany. I think we could become good friends. I think she's the kind of person who makes things feel easier.

Mom got mad at me again for not wearing a bra to school. I don't think it's a big deal, but she said it's "not classy." Whatever, she's just too old to understand.

Oh, and chores! Just because we moved doesn't mean I get out of them. I still have to handle the dishes, clean the bathroom, and shower before nine. Like duh mom! I wasn't born yesterday. You don't have to tell me again!

But anyways, she made chicken parm for dinner. Obv my fav. She also planned a mani-pedi for Saturday as a treat for our first week here. Looking forward to that... so I guess I'll forgive her.

See you again tomorrow!

xoxo

Ethan closed the diary and slid it back into the nightstand. "Perfect," he thought. "If anyone reads that, they won't suspect a thing."

He exhaled, rubbing his face. The day had drained him. Every conversation, every detail he had to remember—it was exhausting. And tomorrow would be more of the same.

His gaze drifted to the dresser. Getting dressed that morning had been a disaster. He hadn't even considered what Olivia might normally wear. Maybe now was the time to figure things out before tomorrow.

He pulled open each drawer, laying out the clothes neatly across the floor—shirts, sweaters, jeans, skirts. The sheer amount of options made his head spin. Girls had so many choices. Too many choices. He tried to remember what other girls at school were wearing. Tiffany had been wearing—blue jeans and a white top. Simple. Doable.

He sifted through the clothes, finding the baggiest jeans he could and a random white top. But before he could try them on, his eyes landed on something else... the bras.

His stomach knotted as he reached for one, turning it over in his hands. He had no idea how it worked—it all looked unnecessarily complicated. He hesitated before attempting to put it on, fumbling for a minute before finally figuring out a trick—clasp it at the front, twist it around, then pull the straps up. He exhaled, relieved.

Once dressed, he checked his reflection. He looked like every girl at school. He wouldn't stick out. That was the goal.



A glance at the clock told him he should probably get in the shower while he still had time.

Grab the pajamas he woke up in and a robe hanging on the door, he headed to the bathroom. The moment he caught his reflection in the mirror, he hesitated. The face staring back at him— the fuller lips, the softer features—it was still strange, still unfamiliar. He sighed and turned away, not wanting to dwell on it.

The shower shelf was lined with bottles—shampoo, conditioner, body wash. And two pink razors.

Right. How could he forget. Girls shave their legs. Another thing he has to remember about being a girl.

He sighed as he stepped under the warm water. Everything about this felt wrong. The weight of his longer hair as water soaked through it, the smoothness of his skin, the odd sensation of his boobs as he moved around. He tried to ignore it as he reached for the shampoo.

Then came the shaving. He hesitated before lathering up his legs, dragging the razor carefully over his skin. It was a lot harder to ignore his feminine body while awkwardly trying to reach every part of his legs. He did best to focus on the task.

Although, when he got out of the shower, he caught another glimpse of his naked body in the mirror. The image didn't sit right with him. It was hard to look at the girl staring back at him. It felt wrong. Like he was seeing something he wasn't supposed to.

By the time he was finished drying off, nearly an hour had passed since starting his shower.

Ethan let out a weary sigh. "Being a girl is already so much more work... and it's only been one day."